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ravenna-reid · 16 days
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Admirer from the past...
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TW: blood, mention of dead bodies and stalking/obsessive behaviour
An expert crime fighter. One of the youngest CEOs. A skilled detective. As good as the Bat. Maybe even better than him.
Tim often found himself conversing with police officers and other detectives that were actually qualified unlike him. Discussing the crime scene, the criminal, the victim, and the next course of action. They all respected Tim and were willing to work together.
One night Tim found himself standing amongst the chaos of the press, the solemn faces of detectives and officers and a name written in blood covering the footpath along with other gory things... The crimson letters painting the cement were a confronting display.
It was the works of a new villain, one that had only just started doing such things two weeks ago. He was one of the most psychotic men Tim had ever dealt with. And it seemed he had a nasty obsession with some poor girl, given he was constantly leaving dead bodies and flowers strewn across Gotham City dedicated to her.
Honestly, the situation twisted Tim's stomach, making him all the more adamant on finding this fucked up guy in hopes of sparing his target the fear and trauma.
Tim kept to himself as he tried to analyse the scene, picking up clues and taking his own samples. That was until the screech of tires on the road caught his attention. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw another well known detective pull up beside the crime scene and hastily get out of his car. And with him a woman. Tim quickly let his eyes glance over you. You wore a fitted suit, golden hoops and your hair thrown up into a french twist. Throwing your trench coat over your shoulders, you hurriedly followed the detective with an unimpressed look on your face.
"If you haven't even caught the assailant yet, why am I here Harry?" You asked before you fell into step with your co-worker and friend. He was almost like an older brother to you.
"Because, I need your input. Your analysis. This guy is a fucking nut and we have no idea how to predict what he's gonna do next."
Intelligence and class seemed to drip off of you, and Tim was immediately smitten interested in you. He even found himself wondering if you were seeing the man you had arrived with.
Surely not, he was old enough to be your father.
You and Harry ducked under the police tape, your hands in your pockets and eyes trained on the gruesome scene. Black roses coated in thick blood decorated the ground around your boots. You instantly grimaced.
Harry made his way over to the group and greeted Tim first.
"Red Robin." He said with a nod.
"Detective." Tim said back, eyes still trained on you.
You turned in a circle to take it all in before nearing the group. "So, do we have anything on this guy?"
"Red Robin managed to hack into one of the shops security systems. The one across the street. With the footage he retrieved, we can see this sick bastard commit the crime, but his face is obscured."
You were watching Red Robin as the officer spoke, a little taken aback to see a vigilante standing in front of you. Let alone one of the bats.
"Can I see the footage?" You asked, eyes gazing back at his.
Tim swallowed hard. Your eye contact was unwavering, and he could feel a blush begin to creep onto his face.
"Miss, are you even a detective or-"
"Of course." Tim cut the officer off, handing you the tablet that sat atop a police car.
"It's fine," Harry said with the wave of his hand, "She's with me. She knows what she's doing."
Tim watched you analyse the footage. The man was wearing a cap, and some sort of odd make-up was smeared across his face. It might have even be blood you thought. You attentively watched the criminals behaviour. His mannerisms. The odd tick in his left shoulder. The limp in his right leg.
"Anything?" Tim asked.
His voice was like wine and you couldn't help but breathe in his cologne. You might come along to see these crime scenes more often.
"There's something." You admit with the furrow of your brows. "The way he moves. I can't put my finger on it though..."
Tim observed the badge clipped to the collar of your shirt. Although he could read what your occupation was, your coat was covering your name.
"Forensic psychologist?"
What a stupid moment to be making small talk. He began to chastise himself and his lack of charisma, but you didn't seem to mind, much to his relief.
"Mhm. Know what that is?" You teased, anticipating the Red Robin's response.
Tim smirked. "No actually, never heard of it."
You gave a light laugh and Tim felt he had to keep the conversation going.
"Are you new at this?" He asked. "I haven't seen you before."
"Not really," you replied with a soft smile. "It's my second year."
"Yeah, and she beats everyone in the game." Harry called out with a chuckle. You tried to hide your blush, but your humility mixed with your attempt to hide your reaction made Tim like you even more.
But the longer you watched the footage it suddenly dawned on you. The puzzles snapped together in your head and left you a little shocked. Tim immediately took note of the change in your demeanour.
"What is it?"
You held onto the tablet tightly. "I think I know who this is. The twitch. The limp. The hunched form and what he's doing..."
"Holy shit..." Harry said as the others all gawked at the writing on the ground.
Tim ignored them, focusing his full attention onto you.
"Back when I was just a psychologist. This guy came to me, I'm sure of it." You looked back up at Tim now, but before either of you could say anything, Harry called your name.
"You better get over here."
You and Red Robin joined the group, and as you looked down at the name on the footpath, your soul immediately dropped down to your feet.
"What's wrong?" Tim asked, looking up at Harry then at you. But now that you had moved, the name on your badge was revealed to Tim.
Everyone suddenly turned to look at you. And all you could do was stare down at the red letters before you.
"That's my name."
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ravenna-reid · 20 days
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TIM DRAKE
devotion
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ADMIRER FROM THE PAST...
Part One
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ravenna-reid · 20 days
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devotion
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Timmy x Reader because I am currently going through Tim Drake brain rot
⊹✧⊹
"Tim?" His name rang through the comm like it was a warning.
"Yeah Nightwing?"
"I think you should come back to the cave. It's kinda urgent."
Tim's footsteps stilled. "What do you mean?"
Dick let out a long sigh. "It's y/n."
In that instant, it was as though someone had replaced Tim's bones with lead. He felt it weigh him down as anxiety began to pulse in his chest.
"What do you mean Dick? What happened?"
Tim already had his cellphone in his hand, but there were no missed calls or messages from you. He knew you had gone out on patrol tonight; Bruce had put you with Dick and Cass, whilst he was forced to go with the bat himself.
Prior to going on patrol, you had given Tim sweet reassurances, and as much as he hated being separated from you, he reluctantly agreed.
His finger had instinctively hooked around your pinkie. "Remember the knuckle busters I gave you." He'd said.
And you had smiled. "Of course."
Now Tim was torturing himself thinking about all of the possible things that could have happened to you on patrol.
"I don't know Tim," Dick continued, "But something happened tonight and she won't talk about it. She's gone mute."
"You better hurry up and get back replacement." Jason chimed in, the sound of the thugs he was beating hitting the ground in the background.
"Shut up Jason." Tim snapped.
Ripping his comm out, he looked over at Bruce, assuming he heard it all. Bruce could tell Tim wasn't going to take no for an answer.
"Go."
⊹✧⊹
Tim basically tore through the cave in search of you, his bo staff and mask disregarded on the ground. He immediately saw Cass sitting on the med bed and Dick standing beside her, arms crossed, and headed for them.
"Where is she?" He asked, voice eager and breathy like he'd just sprinted all the way back to the manor.
Cass glanced over at Dick, and Tim didn't miss the sorrowful look on her face.
"She's upstairs in your room-"
"What happened?" He cut Dick off.
The two exchanged glances, then Cass eyes averted to the floor and Dick's eyes went back to Tim. "The mission was going fine. Y/n was fine. Her usual self; strong, determined, hell she was taking out most of the guys herself." Dick shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Then we got separated for a few minutes-"
"What do you mean you got separated?" Tim asked, tone stern and accusatory.
Dick continued on with the story. "Cass and I couldn't find her and when we finally did, she was like a ghost..."
Tim's face was going red with anger and his expression read blame, until Cass grabbed his arm. His eyes shot over to hers. Cass raised her hand and pointed upstairs, and with the nod of his head, Tim agreed and left them without another word.
⊹✧⊹
Tim wanted to practically walk through the door to his room, but instead, he gently opened it so he wouldn't startle you. He had no idea what condition you were in, and that made it agonising. So preparing himself for the worst, he quietly crept through the door.
The room was dark, the only source of light coming from his ensuite light. "Y/n?"
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he finally looked over to the windows, and there on the window seat sat you. Staring up at the full moon. A relieved sigh fell from his lips. "Y/n."
You turned to look at him and got to your feet as he quickly rushed over to you.
"Tim." Those were the first words you had spoken in almost two hours.
Tim's hands traced down your arms, seeking any sign of injury, before his eyes skimmed over your torso and neck. Then his hands moved to cradle your face, his gaze searching your eyes for any hint of conflict or pain.
"Y/n, where are you hurt? Are you alright?"
As stupid as it was, shame began creeping up on you. "I'm ok Tim, I promise." You grabbed hold of his hands and pulled them away from your face. "Dick contacted you, didn't he?" You faked a smile.
Your not so subtle action caught Tim completely off guard as he stared back at you. It was hard to read you in the dark with only the moon and distant light aiding him, but that didn't stop him from trying.
"Yeah, y/n are you sure you're ok?"
You took a small step back. "Yeah, I promise it was nothing. I'm fine." You tried hard to mask everything with that smile of yours, but it made Tim even more uneasy. He'd thought something physically happened to you. That you were injured. Bruised and bleeding. But now he knew the hurt you were experiencing was running a lot deeper.
You took a sharp breath in. "How was patrol?"
Your voice wavered, and that coil of anxiety was beginning in Tim's chest all over again.
"Y/n..." His finger hooked your pinkie, a small habit of his. He took a step forward to close the space between you, and with the window seat behind you, you had nowhere to go. "Come on, what happened during patrol?"
You let out a deep breath, your head swimming with thoughts. "It's just, I don't know. We ended up getting separated tonight...and when I ..."
No. You instantly cut yourself short and berated yourself. A habit you had developed over the years whenever you were about to talk about how you felt. A fearful expression painted your face and it pained Tim to see it.
"Honestly, it was nothing, I swear." You waved your hand through the air. "This stuff happens on patrol Tim. We've all been through it." You shrugged, trying to brush it off. But your eyes were wide and alert and you were oh so slightly trembling.
Tim rested his hands on your elbows now, tilting his head to catch your gaze as you turned your head from him. "Y/n, something reminded you of the incident tonight, didn't it?" He asked, voice so low and understanding. His thumb stroking your arm.
You bit your lip. "Yeah, but it's fine. The past is the past." You were trying awfully hard to avoid eye contact. "I can handle it, you know."
"It's not about that y/n." Tim's hands cupped your face and now you were forced to look at him.
Usually, you would cut and run. Always at the first sign of something becoming deeper. The first sign that told you someone was getting too close and they knew too much about you. The first sign of physical contact.
And yet...and yet. You could drown it all out with Tim.
"You don't have to be tough all the time. Stoic. Unbreakable. Not with me y/n." His strokes were delicate against the skin of your face. You silently nodded, taking his words in. Tim leant in and placed a long, tender kiss on your cheek. You closed your eyes, never knowing how to act when you received such affection.
Then you subconsciously leant into his touch and Tim was more than happy to pull you closer to him. Especially given it was something you rarely did. Now with your arms around his neck and his around your waist, he moved so that his lips were near your ear as he whispered, "You don't have to tell me what happened. Just let me take care of you y/n. I swear, you'll always be ok."
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ravenna-reid · 20 days
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LEON KENNEDY
I MEAN NO HARM SERIES
Part One
Part Two
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ravenna-reid · 20 days
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ZUKO
The Jade Ghost
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Hanahaki
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ravenna-reid · 20 days
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JASON TODD
CRIMSON RED SERIES
Crimson Red (Pt.1)
A Bloody Price (Pt.2)
I See Red (Pt.3)
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BLACK VIXEN SERIES
Black Vixen and Ballet (Pt.1)
Kisses on Rooftops (Pt.2)
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TORTURED & TEST SUBJECT SERIES
The Tortured & the Test Subject (Pt.1)
Part 2
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Jason x Forensic Psychologist
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Whiskey, Sultry Tunes & Vigilantes
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Battle Scars
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Pretty Pretty Eyes
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Kisses, Lulls, and Incoherent Ramblings
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Sick Reader
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ravenna-reid · 29 days
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Kisses on Rooftops (Part 2)
Red Hood & Black Vixen
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You both had only just escaped the burning warehouse, bursting through the door that led to the rooftop and rolling across the hard cement as a chain of small explosions went off.
Limbs aching, hearts tracing, chests heaving for air, you suddenly let out a laugh and Jason looked over to you.
Maybe it was the rush of it all, the high. Maybe it was delirium. But you were laughing.
"That was fun to you, huh?" He asked, moving to his side and propping himself up with his elbow to look at you. You sat there, trying to regather your breath, and although your mask was hiding the bottom half of your face, he could tell you were smiling.
"That was fun."
Jason shook his head at you and you smirked. "Why Red, wasn't it for you?"
He took his helmet off, the sleek, black domino mask beneath. "Yes, I love almost being burnt to death."
You snickered back at him as you stretched your arms, "Chicken."
A playful glint flashed through his eyes, "Really? Come here."
"No!" You laughed but Jason already had your body on the ground, his on top of yours. You tried to shove him off, but he wouldn't budge. Smiling, laughing, still giddy from adrenaline, he pinned your hands down to the ground so you'd stop shoving him.
"Tell me, still having fun?" He asked, his smile ridiculously infectious.
"Get off me Hood." You tried to sound stern but your giggle betrayed you.
Fire continued to crackle behind you, the flames giving both you and Jason a warm glow, and your laugh eventually died down as you watched how he stared back at you now. The adrenaline that ran through your body had begun to soften as a new kind of buzz replaced it. Jason's head softly tilted to the side as he took you in.
"A shame about that mask." The back of his finger ran along it as he tried to imagine your lips beneath it. Your body stilled.
"I guess I'll just have to work with what I've got." He was leaning down as he said that and placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head. You closed your eyes.
You and Red Hood had been dancing along this line for months. The line that separated friendship and something more. You had been keeping all of your interactions platonic, casual, even though you both knew there was something deeper underneath. You knew things had changed that night after you had accidentally clawed him, and he let you tend to the wound and whisper apologies as he whispered back reassurances.
You knew that line was becoming thin that night at the ballet. How he spoke to you, how he looked at you...
Now weeks had passed since and you had been doing little things to show your affection. Brushing your hand over his. Tracing your finger across that symbol on his chest as you walked past. Saving his life. Jason seemed stunned every time. Taken aback that someone was willing to show him such small gestures of kindness and care. And now, you figured he was sick of acting like there was nothing between you two.
He waited for you to protest against his kiss. Took note of your body language to see if you'd show any signs of discomfort. But when you didn't, his kisses went from the top of your forehead down to between your eyebrows. Until he pulled back.
Those soft, blue-green eyes remained on you. His hand ran down your arm to your wrist and he pulled it to his lips to place another kiss there. Then he began to gently unwrap the compression bandage you had around your hands, your claws gleaming beneath the light of the fire behind him.
Jason placed another kiss in the centre of your palm. One on the back of your hand. A kiss on your clawed fingers. You heart was thumping against your chest, your head in a sweet daze. How different he was when he was with you.
He stayed on top of you, his eyes on yours. And as he came back down he said, "You know, I wish you'd buy a bulletproof suit." Then a kiss was placed on the centre of your throat and the air was snatched from your lungs. "I can get you one if you like." He mumbled against the skin of your jaw. His breath was warm. His lips were soft.
Shit, you loved what he was doing. How gentle he was being. You began to wonder if you and Jason could ever-
And then you heard it. A light snicker in the distance, and it was as though you could feel the prying eyes.
"Jason." You said softly. He'd moved to the side of your neck and was making his way up to your ear.
"Mm?" He said, too busy peppering you with kisses.
"I think your brothers are here."
Instantly, his head snapped up and he looked at you before looking over your head to the building opposite of the one you were on.
Well now, Dick could no longer contain his laughter. It rung through the air as he watched on. Tim stood beside him, pointing at you both.
"I knew it!" He yelled with no shame. "The girl from the ballet!"
Damian just stood there, arms crossed and shaking his head.
Jason's body became rigid. "I'm gonna fucking kill them."
With that, he lifted you from the ground and began to make his way over to them.
Clumsily, the three quickly left, but not before Dick shouted out to you.
"Welcome to the family Black Vixen!"
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ravenna-reid · 1 month
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I SEE RED
[ Part 3 to Crimson Red ]
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TW: swearing and violence and maybe like one suggestive line
I'm beyond glad so many of you like this series!! This one is a lil longer, so I hope ya'll don't mind. Reblogs and comments are appreciated :)
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You began to pull your arms away from Jason's waist, but not before his gloved hand quickly enveloped one of yours.
"What are you doing?" His hold was eager, his voice drowning out from the rush of the cars around you.
Rain continued to belt down onto you both, the chill settling deep into your bones.
"I'm gonna need both hands for this! Trust me!" You shouted through the helmet. Jason held onto you a second, hesitant to let go until he focused back onto weaving through the cars with his motorbike.
You and Jason had found out who that sniper was that shot your shoulder and wrecked Jason's apartment. And you both decided to pay him a visit and give him a little gift. Just a mean threat, a few bruises and broken bones here and there. That's all. Actually, you had left half-way to look at the snipers impressive collection of CD's, so you didn't really know what Red Hood did to him. You figured it would have been pretty gruesome given what the man had done to the Hood's apartment, but you didn't realise that Jason was bent on rage due to the fact that the man had shot you.
Now you were both speeding down one of the back streets of Gotham on the back of Red's motorbike. Four cars followed close behind, given the sniper had about a hundred men working for him. Too bad you could only use your abilities on two people at once.
Grabbing onto the grab handle on the back of Jason's seat, you managed to quickly flip around so that your back was against his and you were facing your pursuers. Gripping on tightly with your legs, you prayed you wouldn't fall off the motorbike as you raised your hands.
You could feel every bone. Every vein, organ and muscle. With one hand outstretched, you slowly turned the other. Then, with the slight tilt of your head, you felt the men driving the two cars closest to you struggling for air. Both of the black cars swerved, taking out one another. Two down.
You actually felt that you and Jason had the upper hand. Until you remembered the other cars and saw a man hanging out of one of them, submachine gun in hand. And before you could even raise your hands to snap his fingers, bullets began to rush towards you.
Jason immediately swerved off the road, collecting trash cans and other bits and pieces as he tore down the alley way. Usually, after a while, he'd be able to regain control of his motorbike. But with his mind on you and his arm instinctively reaching to grab you, his motorbike soon began to slide on its side before crashing into a nearby warehouse.
You and Jason sat there a second on the dilapidated motorbike, limbs aching and hearts racing. "Thank the Lord." You let out in a deep breath as you threw your helmet to the ground.
The crash wasn't that bad and you'd both experienced worse. Getting to his feet, Jason looked down at the crushed metal and torn leather and let out a long sigh.
"Fuck, I didn't mean to crash you." Jason continued staring down at it, hands on hips, as you gave him a dramatic pat on the back.
Engines revving and tires screeching. You and Hood both immediately looked down the street as the two cars raced towards you.
"Quick, get in the building." He urged.
You raced in and quickly enveloped yourselves in the darkness and waited. All there was was sound. The click of Jason loading his guns. The sound of yelling and car doors slamming outside. The drip, drip, dripping of a leak in the warehouse. You raised your hands, prepared to fight.
"Do you even know how to fight?" He asked.
You deduced that he must have night vision in his helmet.
"Yes," You hissed. "I did Krav Maga for a few years."
Jason smirked. "Think you could best me?"
"I'd certainly like to try."
The men, with their torches, knives and guns, suddenly stormed the building and your first goal was to wreck the one with the submachine gun. You effortlessly did so and he now lied on the ground writhing in pain. After dealing with a few more men you glanced over at Hood, impressed with his strength and marksman skills. But then it suddenly felt like lead was seeping into your bones and weighing you down.
There were too many men. You desperately tried the best you could. Hiding amongst the shadows and harming two at a time. But they were catching on, some of them starting to realise that you needed both your hands to perform your ability.
You took a strike to the face and doubled over. Red Hood seemed to as well, judging by the sound of his pained yell. Blood stained the cement ground around him as he held onto his ribs, a ghastly gash sitting on his skin beneath his suit. He put up a good fight, but men were kicking at him. One of the men picked up a disregarded crow bar. More were closing in on you.
Fear coursed through your veins like electricity. No, it was more like an itch running through your body. Something you'd never felt before and you couldn't explain. But you weren't about to stop and question it. Instead you closed your eyes and begged that what you were about to do would work.
You elbowed the guy that had one of your arms pinned back before quickly raising them. Slowly, they stopped in their tracks. One by one. Wincing, aching, grunting in pain. Something thick got caught in your throat, and you realised it was too much, but in that moment you didn't care. Your hands trembled as you pushed forward, performing your usual poses. The hold you had over them seemed to have a hold on you too. Because as you forced them all to their knees, you began to sink down to your knees as well.
Jason watched in disbelief and awe. The men were struggling. They were absolutely helpless. Blood began to trickle from their noses and the corner of their mouths. Some were beginning to cry. But you didn't stop until you knew Jason would be safe. Until they were all out cold. And that's exactly what happened.
Pride racked your chest as a dozen men laid before you. Silent and still. You looked over at Jason, a silly smile on your face, before crashing to the floor and hitting it hard.
"Crimson!" Although in pain, Jason made it to you in no time. He quickly pushed the wet hair clinging to your face out of the way. "Hey, you're ok. You're ok." He said, noticing the blood beginning to trickle from your nose. Something wrung his heart like a wet cloth. Hood took the leather jacket from his shoulder and threw it over you. "It's ok, you're going to be fine Crimson."
He continued gripping at you, urging you to respond. But you couldn't talk, your throat burning, so instead you went with a nod. Slowly, his figure became a haze, then a sudden blur of red and grey before
everything
went
black.
You'd woken up the next day tucked into your bed. Silk doona pulled up to your chin. Two glasses of water, headache medication and chicken soup sat on your bedside table. Your fingers raised to brush against the mask that was still on your face. He didn't removed the mask. Your playful smirk soon ended up turning into a genuine smile.
"Thanks Red."
Days went by, and once you were well enough to be out and about again, Jason was ecstatic. He explained everything to you. How he ended up calling back up, how said back up helped him with the men and looking after you.
"Don't worry, afterwards I carried you home myself." He said, assuring you that your location was kept a secret, and a small flutter began in your stomach.
You asked who he had called, but he only replied with a smart ass comment about how your Krav Maga failed you. You rolled your eyes and went about your mission, and Jason smiled beneath his helmet. He couldn't believe what you had done. How you had pushed pass limits and achieved something you didn't know you could. How you had taken those men out simply with a few simple hand movements. You were a prodigy in his eyes. And he was just happy you were ok.
One particularly late night, you sat on your bed after patrol and stared out your bedroom window, letting the moon bathe you in its light before beginning your bed time routine. Neon lights were streaming on the building across from your apartment block. Cars raced on the road down below. The stars were trying hard to be seen, but that was impossible with all the light pollution in Gotham. Your mind continued wandering as you sat there, that was until you heard a squeak from one of the windows in the lounge.
"Hey Red." You said before he even entered your bedroom.
"Hey." He said, setting his helmet down onto your desk.
Jason stood awkwardly at your door, something he'd been doing a lot lately, as he watched you lean down to untie your shoes. Pausing what you were doing, you looked over at him with furrowed brows. He watched as your hair, and that red lace, fell over your shoulder.
"You can come sit down Red."
Jason nodded, cleared his throat, then hesitantly walked over to your bed. Then he sunk into your crimson bedding and took in the warmth of your room. The scent that enveloped it.
Once you finished untying your shoes, you moved closer to Jason and suddenly all the air had been snatched from his lungs. If he had no shame, or if he could actually function, he probably would have asked if you were using your abilities on him.
"Checking on me again?" You asked. It had been the third time this week.
"Maybe." He admitted looking down with a smirk.
"I'm fine now Red, I promise."
You placed your hand on top of his and immediately, he looked up at you. Did you realise what you were doing? Was this simply a friendly gesture? That glint in your eyes said otherwise, and it had him swallowing hard. Shit, could you ever really be his?
You were leaning closer, slowly, surely. Your hand running along his abdomen where the knife cut from that night probably left a scar. Chills ran down his spine, and although he didn't realise it, he was leaning in too. Admiration was evident in Jason's eyes as you stared back, a soft and loving smile adorning your face. Different from your usual smile. A smile he'd never seen before. A smile only he could earn.
"Jason..." You whispered, and shit how he loved how you whispered his name. It was like a whole drum set was now banging and bashing inside of Jason's chest. He raised his hand, warm fingers brushing your cheek before slightly slipping under your mask.
"May I?" He asked reluctantly.
You nodded. "Mmhm."
He pulled your mask off, and once he saw you he had to take a second. He took in every little feature and came to the conclusion he already knew. You were breathtaking. But maybe it was the trust you were showing him that was really making the brutal, sarcastic Red Hood so lovesick.
"Fuck, this is what you've been hiding from me?"
You gave a breathy laugh, your cheeks becoming tinted with pink. Jason leant closer, his breath fanning your skin. Hand tightening around your own, your leg now brushing against his. Until he paused.
"Can I kiss you?"
The fact that he asked made you melt.
You smiled again. "Mmhm."
And suddenly, his lips were on yours. Gentle and tender, almost as though he wasn't sure if this was what you really wanted. After a few seconds of bliss, his doubt got the better of him and he pulled back. But when you crept forward and your hand clutched at his collar to pull him deeper into the kiss, well, then he was all in. Hand gripping your waist whilst the other went to your hair. You felt giddy. Safe. Content.
And as the sounds around you drowned out and the kiss slowly progressed, his lips began to trace your skin....
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ravenna-reid · 1 month
Text
A BLOODY PRICE
[ Part 2 to Crimson Red ]
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TW: swearing, violence (bones breaking and shooting, nothing too intense though), brief mention of attempted assault
˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁
He had her cornered.
The dim street lights were making the tears that rolled down her cheeks glisten, but no one would hear her cries or come to her aid. Not in the alley ways of Gotham City.
As she continued to tell him; "No, I don't have any money, no please," it only seemed to make him angrier. He had her by the wrists now. Rage contorted his features. She closed her eyes.
"Listen here you bitc-" He was cut off by the sound of his own bones breaking. Both of his wrists snapping forward before his hands hung low. Mock horror spread across his face as the most agonising yell left him.
As he tumbled away from the girl and fell to his knees, something else grabbed at his attention. The pair suddenly looked in the direction the slow footsteps were coming from. Heels on the wet cement. And once you stepped out of the shadows and he saw the mask. The lipstick. The lace...he realised.
"No." Weeps escaped him as he feebly attempted to get away. "No, please."
You looked over at the terrified woman as she held her wrists and watched you in anticipation. "How ironic." You scoffed, "Now he's begging. 'No, no, please.'" You mocked with a wicked smile.
"Who are you?" She asked, voice quivering.
Your eyes settled onto her and remorse began to stir in your stomach. "A friend." You said, "Now, how far away is your home?"
"It's just across the street."
"I'll watch you. Go."
She didn't hesitate, quickly moving past you and heading towards an apartment building. When the door closed behind her you looked back down at the man.
"You know, I don't think that's going to be enough to teach you a lesson." That playful glint left your eyes and was soon replaced with a deadly intent.
He began to beg again, until the sound of a gunshot split the air in two. His body hit the ground with a loud thud. Shocked, you turned, moved to the side hoping the shadows would conceal you, but another gunshot echoed through out the city as the bullet found its home in your shoulder.
In that moment, something wrapped around you and brought you down to the ground with them.
The two gunshots simmered in the air before disappearing, and everything became eerily still as Gotham continued on like nothing had happened.
"Shit." The voice said. You turned to see the Red Hood on the ground with you, arms holding on as though you were precious cargo before he quickly let go.
"Red." You breathed. A faint smile spread across your face until the pain of the gunshot began to finally kick in. You winced, and Jason began cursing himself for not reaching you in time.
"Where did he hit you?" His voice was deeper and a little robotic with his helmet on.
"My shoulder." You managed, gripping onto the upper part of your arm as if it would help with the pain. "Who-?"
"A sniper. I couldn't figure out if he was gunning for you or that pig."
You both instinctivly looked over at the man sprawled across the ground.
"Come on, can you walk?" He began to guide you up from the ground, a tender hold on your elbow and lower back.
"Yeah, my house isn't far."
Lies. And it was as though he could tell you were lying.
"I bet mine is closer. Come on, I can stitch you up."
"No, really. It's fine-" Another wince cut you short, and if Jason wasn't wearing a helmet, you'd see the concern embedded onto his face.
"You helped me," He pointed out, a little eager. "Now let me make it even."
So the Red Hood managed to convince you to go back to his place. A dark apartment filled with take-away, old books, and large windows in the lounge room, only lit up by one warm lamp.
"When I find that asshole, he's no longer going to have a spine." You said through grit teeth as he laced the stitchings through your skin.
"I wonder who it was." He said, focused on your wound. "Probably Two-Face."
You shook your head. "Sneaky son of a bitch. He knew I wouldn't be able to sense a sniper."
Suddenly, your hand flew on top of his and tightly held onto it. Jason's body stilled as his eyes darted up to you. You were squinting, until you finally let out a breath and said, "Sorry, that one had a little kick to it."
You were trying your best, but the burning sensation was beginning to get to your head. Jason nodded before apologising, his eyes on yours and his enclosed hands. You moved your hand back into your lap. Jason paused for a second before continuing on and a strange sort of silence enveloped the room.
You couldn't stop the small smirk. His hand was unexpectedly warm. And soft, even if it had a few scars on it. A blush crept onto your face and you hoped the mask was hiding it.
"I thought someone like you would handle pain a little better." He teased, cutting the string and moving to grab a bandage.
You scoffed as you stared at the bloody bullet that sat on his table.
"Well, I didn't really have to deal with pain growing up."
Jason raised a brow at you as he continued wrapping your arm.
"My sister was a healer." It was the first time you looked away from Jason, a sad, distant memory gleaming in your eyes.
"A healer and a pain inflictor?"
"Mmhm."
Watching you and how your usual confident expression melted away made him drop the topic. But his mind continued to wonder. 'My sister was a healer.' Past tense. He bit the inside of his mouth as he wondered what happened. Wondered if that was why you did what you did.
He clipped the bandage and sat back to look at his work. "All done."
You looked down and scoffed. "I didn't think I'd have to make the arms of my suit bullet proof too."
Then you looked back up at him and sent his head reeling. No snarky remarks or sarcastic comments. Jason was silent. You gazed back at one another in a comfortable silence, and he found that he really wanted to take that mask off. See who was hiding underneath. But the thought left his mind and his stomach dropped as soon as your eyes widened.
This time...you could hear a heartbeat.
As quick as a whip you were out of the chair and had your hands gripping onto his suit. Much to his shock and surprise, you were shoving Jason back, and in that split second a plethora of bullets began to shoot through the windows.
The loud gunshots mixed with the smashing and clinking sound of glass breaking as the shards scattered across the floor. You and Jason were pressed against the wall at the end of the room, your face buried into his chest and his arms around your head. The shooting continued on for what seemed like forever before coming to a sudden halt.
The floor of his apartment was nothing but glass shards and wooden splinters from the window frames. His table, chairs, and the wall opposite of the windows were decorated with deep bullet holes. It seemed the sniper had returned with a gun that had a little more kick to it. And now, he was gone.
You finally looked up at Jason as he stared back at you. You still had him pinned against the wall, your body pressed against his as you both continued to breath heavily. But the shock of what just happened wouldn't allow either one of you to move. All you could do was stare at each other before he looked over your head at his apartment and the windows.
A slither of guilt crept into your bones. Now he would have to move. You looked over your shoulder at the mess before looking back at him.
"That fucker is dead." He said, voice deadly and low.
"Seems we both have a common enemy now." You said.
Stupid enough, you felt your face become hot as you took in the position you were both in, and little did you know that Jason was thinking the same thing too. Except you had much more of an effect on Jason. Faces inches apart as you held him against the wall, your hands gripping onto the fabrics of his suit. Surprisingly enough, he found he didn't mind the position he was in. At all.
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ravenna-reid · 1 month
Text
CRIMSON RED
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Jason Todd x Pain Inflictor Reader
TW: nothing crazy, just swearing and mentions of violence
˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖
All they called you was Crimson.
Maybe because of your signature lipstick and that lace that was always in your hair.
Or maybe because of the blood you drew out of your targets without so much as raising a finger.
A telekinetic pain inflictor. The worst kind of metahuman.
But Red Hood had no reason to worry about you just yet. You tended to keep a low profile and there were bigger fish to fry. And if he was being honest, the sound of you and your abilities were kind of terrifying.
Jason's little mission all went wrong though, given his intel was missing key information. Now he was bound to a chair in a warehouse with a dripping roof. And that dripping eerily echoed as he sat and waited. Desperately keeping his fears and demons at bay.
Being tied to a chair. The looming threat of torture. It all hit a little too close to home.
Two-Face eventually sauntered into view, the rest of the warehouse behind and beside him concealed in shadows. Jason had to grimace every time he saw his face.
"You ugly bastard." Jason retorted, masking his fear with snarky insults and sarcasm. "Gotten work done recently?" He nodded towards Harvey's face with his head.
"Son of a bitch." Two-Face's face contorted with rage. "I would watch my mouth if I were you. You're finally gonna die tonight, and this time you won't be coming back."
Jason swallowed hard, pissed off that he didn't have his helmet to hide the fear-inducing anticipation on his pale face.
"But we'll let the coin decide how this is gonna play out."
So Harvey went on with his odd ritual and flipped his coin. It landed on the tarnish side, and Jason had no idea what that meant. Suddenly, Two-Face was calling out to someone behind him. Someone hidden deep within the darkness of the abandoned warehouse. Jason waited and waited, sweat dripping down the side of his face.
He expected a gruesome looking thug or some other high profile villain. Maybe Penguin, or even Harley.
The sound of heeled boots slowly echoed through out his bleak surroundings, accompanied by a laugh like velvet. You soon came into view.
Crimson mask concealing the top half of your face, the colour matching that string of lace that sat comfortably in your hair. Your usual deep red outfit hugged your body, similar to Catwoman's except for the fact that it wasn't a whole bodysuit. And of course, your stark, scarlet lips were contorted into a sinister smile.
He'd seen you around. But seeing you this close in person was a different story. Jason's breath hitched once you were right in front of him. Truthfully, he never intended to meet you. And now it was so much worse given you would be the one torturing him tonight.
Fuck this mission really went south.
"Here, the coin says you get to toy with him tonight." Two-Face said with a dismissive wave of his hand and scoff as he turned his back. "I have a deal I need to be making soon."
Jason watched as he left, muscles stiff with frustration and venom in his eyes. This was the deal Jason was supposed to be preventing.
As Jason's eyes lingered on Two-Face, your eyes were focused on him. His ivory skin and deep, jet black hair. The aggravated expression painted across his face. That muscular figure.
And that odd looking J scar on the side of his face.
"Red Hood..." Your voice lingered and shivers suddenly went down Jason's arms. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"Can't say I feel the same way." He responded harshly, avoiding eye contact and instead trying to devise an escape plan. Which would, most likely, be futile and stupid.
"Mmm, mean. It's not like you're a saint Red." You calmly pointed out, voice smooth like wine.
And then he looked up at you. "Oh, really? You're one to talk? Ms snaps someones bones and crushes their lungs with a blink of an eye."
Finally making contact, you saw the confliction swirling in those eyes, and for some odd reason something tightened your throat.
Jason didn't miss the subtle furrow of your brows as you neared him. Slowly circling him like a predator.
"Deciding what bone you're going to break first?"
You scoffed, but it was more like a laugh. As you walked behind Jason he began to feel his skin crawl, his heart beat faster. He wished you were standing in front of him again. Staring down at him the way you were.
As you went around him, you noticed the back of his shirt was slightly tugged down, revealing slithers of iridescent scars. Many, many scars.
"What are you doing?" He snapped, but you remained silent until you faced him again. And this time all you did was stare back at him, mind deep in thought. Something stirred deep in your chest. Regret? Sympathy?
"You're just a kid." The words left your mouth in a gentle whisper as you realised he was probably no older than you.
So no, he wasn't a kid. But he wasn't old enough to have his body broken by you. Sure, you butchered people with your mind all the time. But they were criminals. Enemies. Scum. They always had it coming. But him? Red Hood?
You just couldn't do it. It was ridiculous, you knew that. But you couldn't. You wondered where Two-Face was and how he'd react to your odd decision. But hell, you didn't care about ignoring Two-Face's order. Rules and regulations never stopped you before, and what was he going to do?
Jason initially wanted to get even more mad about that statement. Insulted that you just called him a boy when he was in his 20's. But he kept to himself, continuing to watch you closely.
"So what are you gonna do now huh? Cause this game is getting a little boring Crimson."
His attitude made you smirk a little. You suddenly slipped a red-blade dagger from your belt. Jason frowned, wondering why you wouldn't just use you powers, when you cut the zip ties and rope keeping him bound.
Now he was glancing up at you, eyes wide with confusion and suspicion.
"You gonna go or did you actually want me to hurt you?" You asked, brows raised. But already knowing the answer, you were turning to leave.
"Why are you doing this?" He sounded like he was accusing you of something. You turned to look back over your shoulder.
The sympathy was back, but also a few other feelings. Butterflies in your stomach and what not. Shit he was handsome.
"I don't know," you shrugged. "You're kinda cute."
He scoffed before grabbing his helmet from the floor. "Spare me."
Suddenly a sharp pain began in his knees before they turned into brittle leaves. He dropped down onto them and stayed there as the pain began to subside. Then he shot a glare up at you. You were already standing before Jason and looking down at him, that smug smile on your pretty face.
"Mm," You hummed, eyes dancing across his features as you took him in. "Very cute."
Then you turned to leave, and Jason was left blushing and speechless.
Part 2
˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖
307 notes · View notes
ravenna-reid · 1 month
Note
for the dc prompts you reblogged:
can i request jason todd x reader "someone likes being pinned down" + A flirting with B while sparring to throw them off their tracks
where reader is also a vigilante??
thank you so much 🩷
very sexy prompts thank u 😌
jason todd x gn!reader. r and robin!jay were friends, r doesn't know jason is alive/red hood but jason knows r is a vigilante. r's alias is 'nocturne' (if that's already in use oh well lmao). fighting/sparring, jason is mega in love with you as usual!!
all fics at @sanguinelibrary
****
"Still blindly following the Bat, huh?"
You land in a crouch on the rooftop, just like how Nightwing taught you. The Red Hood doesn't look at you, digging through two duffel bags. He doesn't even draw his gun, like you've seen him do with virtually every other vigilante in Gotham.
You wait, ready to spring into action. But Hood doesn't stop what he's doing. Slowly, you rise.
"What... do you mean?" you ask.
"I mean, why are you traipsing around Gotham as a bat-adjacent? Who are you s'posed to be anyway? Goth Bat? Alternative Scene Bat?"
"I'm Nocturne," you say, shoulders rising to your ears. Rude. You thought the chunky boots and star over your suit's eye mask were inspired.
Red Hood lifts a hand. "Don't get me wrong, I dig the threads. I'm just surprised B didn't have an aneurysm over the sequins. Then again, Discowing did do it first..."
Your first two meetings with the infamous Red Hood have been similar in that he's never very concerned about you stopping him (ouch), but he also isn't callous or cruel with you like he is with the other vigilantes.
Case in point: the last person who cornered Hood on a roof was Red Robin. Hood shot him in the shoulder before he could land.
In short, he's perplexing as hell.
Batman's forbidden the rest of the team to confront Hood without backup. And you're technically not supposed to be on patrol tonight. But if you can intercept Hood, that'll be a huge win.
Hood keeps on packing the duffels. You hesitate, then step forward.
"Get away from the bags," you say. "I won't ask twice."
Hood looks at you. "Nocturne's a pretty cool name, I'll admit. And I like the boots. But I still think you oughta call it quits."
He zips up the bags, stands, and kicks them to the corner of the roof.
"Because you're just that unstoppable?" you ask, hands curling into fists.
"Yeah. But mostly 'cause I know you're made for so much more than this, sweetheart."
And that is the third and perhaps most bewildering thing about your encounters with Red Hood: you've gotten the creeping feeling that he... likes you.
Which is ridiculous, and if you ever breathed a word of that to anybody, Batman would probably check you into Arkham.
You take another careful step forward. Hood leans against the railing and folds his arms.
"This the part where you apprehend and hogtie me for innocently packing a duffel bag?" he asks.
You glare. "Innocent? I know you're making a weapons delivery because I know you've been waiting for Batman to be off-planet to make it."
"Clever. Told ya you're too good for this," Hood says. "Should be in college with those smarts, not playing maid for Batman."
"Are you lecturing me?"
"I'm advising you as your friendly neighborhood drug lord. Lecturing makes me sound like a guy who's got too much money and too big of a savior complex to understand that the way he fights injustice is fundamentally flawed."
"Sounds personal."
Hood laughs. "Honey, you have no idea."
You strike.
Hood parries your first attack easily, which you expect. The truth is that whoever trained Hood cut no corners and you're still relatively new at vigilantism. It's only by the grace of God that Hood hasn't left you to bleed out on a roof.
You kick his shin, but Hood turns on the instep and blocks. You go for his shoulder, where his armor separates to give him more movement. But Hood's ready for that too, and he catches your arm.
"Gotta keep that right arm up," he says. "Surprised no one's trained that outta you yet."
You elbow Hood in the throat. He coughs and lets go.
"Like that?" you ask, muscles tense with adrenaline.
Hood makes a sound that might be a laugh, still choked from your hit. "Just like that, honeylove. Good job."
"I don't need feedback," you snap, immediately going back in for another hit.
"Sorry. I'll make this quick then. I do have a delivery."
On the next strike, you advance, using a technique Nightwing drilled into your head for bigger opponents. Hood goes down and you land atop him.
"Oh, that's a Nightwing takedown if I've ever seen one," Hood says beneath you.
You're close enough that you can hear his breathing through the decoder. Pride swells in you at taking him down. Not even Batman has managed such a thing.
Hood is warm and big. His shoulder span alone dwarfs you. When you'd seen him from afar, fighting Batman or Nightwing, you'd been terrified.
But now, perhaps stupidly, you feel comfortable. Annoyed, but safe. Something about him reminds you of home. Makes your stomach flip in a good way.
Which is terrifying.
"You're coming with me," you say, reaching for your cuffs.
"If only. Unfortunately, you've forgotten a teensy weensy detail, dearest."
Hood bucks you off, legs first. Your feet fly into the air, which allows him to flip your positions. You wince, preparing for a concussion upon impact as you go down. But Hood cushions your fall and neatly rolls you over. Your back is pressed into the concrete, hands locked over your head. Hood's weight holds down your hips and legs.
He looms over you, easily holding you down. Your face grows hot.
"How did—" You squirm in his grip. "I had you!"
"Weight distribution, sweets. Tell Al—one of the Bats to add weight to your boots. They keep you light on your feet, but you were depending on them too much to hold me down, and we ain't evenly matched there."
You thrash in his grip. "Hood, I swear to fucking—"
"Easy. Don't sweat it, sweetheart. You haven't been doing this for very long. That was a good takedown, regardless. I'm impressed."
"Screw you."
He hums. You can tell he's smiling under the helmet. "Sorry, I forgot. You don't like feedback."
Hood strokes the inside of your wrist. You aren't sure he's aware he's doing it. His grip is firm but light. He's not trying to hurt you. Your pulse is in your throat.
For a moment, you're both still. Hood seems caught in a trance, like even Superman couldn't tear him away from this moment. From you. And it's not that you're afraid, you're just... you're...
"How do you know so much about me?" you blurt, because it's puzzled the whole team. "You been spying on me?"
"'Course not. Unlike your boss, I respect privacy. No, I did research. I recognized you from when you'd hang around that second Robin. Shrimpy little guy. What'd ya even see in him?"
The grief overtakes you before you can control your mouth.
"You don't know anything about me or him," you spit. "Don't fucking talk about him. He had more skill and goodness in his pinkie than you'll have in a lifetime. And you could learn a thing from him about changing a city. He'd tell you that fear alone never works."
Hood is quiet for a long moment. Then he speaks.
"Where's your distress signal?"
"Why would I tell—"
Hood shifts over you, cutting off your reply. He pulls a ziptie around your wrists. They're not even a little tight. You could probably slip out of them if you had five minutes.
"I know you're not s'posed to be out tonight," he whispers in your ear. "'S not your patrol night. Good thing you're my favorite."
You nearly swallow your tongue. "How do you—I don't—"
"Uh-huh. So you be good from now on, yeah? Wouldn't wanna have to keep tying you up like this."
You lift your chin. "We'll switch positions soon enough."
Hood snorts. "Okay, I know you heard how that soun—"
"I heard it," you say grumpily. "Just get on with it. Jerk."
"As you wish. Distress signal?"
"Collar."
Hood presses the button under your collar. Your breath hitches as his gloved fingers graze your neck.
"Oh? Does somebody like getting pinned down?"
"In your dreams."
Hood laughs. He zipties your ankles last, then sits you upright against the railing.
"Not too tight, are they?" he asks. "I know you've got a circulation problem."
You squint. "You seem to know a lot about me. Not fair that I don't know much about you, Hood."
"'S just business, honeylove," he says, scooping up his duffel. "Now I don't wanna see you in a suit anymore, comprende?"
"Or you'll what? Shoot me?"
Hood pauses, eerily still. He turns those glowing white eyes upon you. Your heart picks up.
"No," he says, so serious it startles you. "But someone else might. And I don't want you to face the same fate as your good friend Robin."
He vaults over the railing before you can respond. Your head thunks lightly as you lean back and wonder if you're really just business to the Red Hood.
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ravenna-reid · 1 month
Text
The Tortured and the Test Subject 2
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Finally a Part 2!! Pls lmk if you like it/like where this story is heading and I might turn it into a longer series hehe
Warnings -- mentions of death and torture
"So, super strength and healing huh?"
The soft moonlight filtered through the grand windows in the hallway. You and Jason continued to silently stroll through the manor as he gave you a quick tour, his eyes attentively glued on you the entire time. Jason was trying hard to make conversation. He had made sure not to mention the fact that you knew you couldn't die. You gave a small smile in response, still feeling a little indifferent to the powers that were forced upon you.
"Yeah." You said before glancing over to where the windows sat, and suddenly you came to a halt. Then, your feet lead you over to them until you saw the manor's magnificent garden lit up by lanterns and the vast night sky outside.
The sky.
Glistening stars peppered the navy blue, a few rain clouds here and there slowly crawling across the dark sky. You had spent many nights at Cadmus thinking about those stars as you stared up at the plain white ceiling. Wondering if you would ever see them again. And now that you were here, outside, it was all too overwhelming. You were sick with relief, you were grateful, but your heart also seemed to be shattering. Mourning all of those lost years.
You put a hand to your mouth, eager to stifle an oncoming cry, and the simple action made Jason's stomach drop.
"Hey, you alright?" Jason asked sheepishly. He had to stop himself from reaching out to you.
You had kept yourself together for all those years in Cadmus, so you weren't about to lose it now. You'd wait until the boy was gone and you were in a proper bed, hidden beneath the covers.
"I'm ok." You managed, a tightening sensation in your throat. "Is there anything else you want to show me?"
Jason watched you a second too long, unconvinced, before moving towards the closest door in the hall.
"Uh, no. I can show you the rest tomorrow." He stood beside the door, hand on handle. "This is your room while you stay here."
Jason opened the door to allow you to walk in, but you stopped at the doorframe. "Where will you be?"
A little flutter began in his chest. "If you need anything, I'll be right next door." He nodded towards the door to your far right. "Just knock."
Your gaze fell back into the room onto the charcoal bedding and stack of what looked like some very old books on some shelves. The room was nice and simple, but it had so much more warmth to it compared to your cell back at Cadmus.
"Do you need anything else?" Jason asked, trying not to fiddle with his fingers.
"No, thankyou." Your voice was soft as you gave a gentle smile and went into the room.
You'd probably spend most of the night looking through every little thing in there. The drawer of clothes, the plethora of books, you will definitely be staring at the night sky and outside world for as long as you could. And you'd make sure that window stayed open. All night. You would probably do silly things like lay against the soft carpet, or run your fingers across the curtains. You also found that your mind was still a little drawn to that boy and his odd, padded outfit with the red bat across his chest.
Jason. Yes, you'd think about him for a few minutes longer than you would like to admit, as well as his odd family.
And then after all that, you would throw that horrid jumpsuit into the bin, desperately ridding the number 09714 from your mind, and throw on the clothes that sat folded on the end of the bed. Then, you knew you were going to spend some time crying and comforting yourself. As you always did.
Jason stood at the closed door before turning to leave. That's when he caught sight of the shadowy figure lurking towards the end of the hall.
"Isn't that your room?" Dick asked, and although it was dark, Jason could hear the smirk in his voice. "Or, old room?" He corrected.
Jason simply brushed past him, "Don't know what you're talking about."
𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒
Meeting you had brought up a lot of unsettling memories in Jason's mind. The abuse he can imagine you endured in Cadmus reminding him of his own time spent with the deranged Clown. The fact that you had died dragging him back to the night he had. The white streak that laced your hair...
He'd woken up, shirt drenched in sweat and limbs trembling. Again nightmares plagued his sleep, and again he was sitting in his bed on the couch desperately trying to calm himself down. When suddenly he heard a door creak open and he knew that sound all too well. His bedroom door.
Carefully, he peered down the hallway to where you stood leaning your forehead against the windows. Eyes closed, as though you're desperate to escape something.
"y/n?"
Your head snapped over in his direction, eyes wide and fearful. "Jason?"
"Yeah, yeah it's me. You ok?"
You directed your 1000 yard stare back towards what lied beyond the window. "I can't stay in the room. In the bed. I feel trapped again."
Jason understood. Hell, he understood completely.
"Do you wanna go outside?"
You nodded in response, and soon you were following Jason around the still mansion until you reached the courtyard. It was large and grand, filled with perfectly trimmed hedges and stone. It was beautiful. Sitting down on two of the most comfortable arm chairs, you breathed in the fresh air like it was your last breath, eyes close and heart full now that you were outside. The air was crisp and cool and you loved it. Jason sat beside you, carefully taking you in.
"Better?" He asked.
"Mmm." Silence settled over you both before you spoke. "I accidentally broke the tap in the ensuite."
Your eyes met.
"Sorry."
Jason let out a tired, breathy laugh. "It's fine. Bruce has enough money to fix anything you break."
You took Jason in, properly this time. Dark, damp hair fell before his bright eyes. He was dressed in a shirt that looked a bit too small for him, tracksuit pants and socks on his feet. Your eyes then fell down to the arm closest to you and the ghastly mark that run along it. It was a new wound, still red and raw.
"I don't remember doing that when I pinned you to the wall."
He flashed a look of confusion at you before following your eyes. He quickly hid his arm once he realised.
"No, you didn't do that."
Jason was so tired he had forgotten all about the graze he received on patrol earlier, given it had eventually stopped bleeding.
"Want me to fix it?"
He became more self-conscious now as he instinctively edged away from you, a bashful expression melting across his face. "No, it's ok."
"Are you sure? Cause I don't mind. Might as well use what they gave me."
The moonlight accentuated his blue-green eyes as he stared back at you. "I'm sure. It's fine."
You accepted his answer and looked back out to the view as the sun began to bleed a bright orange and deep pink into the sky, nudging the moon and stars out of the way. Jason was mentally kicking himself, but kept very quiet. You on the other hand were so content, even if some of your demons hung around at the back of your mind, that you didn't notice how he fidgeted.
"I get it you know." Jason's voice broke the silence, quiet and unsure. You glanced back over at him with furrowed brows.
"It sounds stupid. But I understand how you feel. I-"
He forced himself to gain enough courage to look at you. You, one of the most beautiful girls he had ever met. And it wasn't even your physical features. It was something else. Something deeper. Instantly, the words seemed to die on his tongue as you waited for him to continue.
"I'm sorry that happened to you, really. And I'm glad that we found you."
The words tumbled out before he got up and went back inside. Leaving you feeling both oddly warm and confused.
Part 3??
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ravenna-reid · 1 month
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MASTERLIST
༄. | ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ | .𖥔 ݁ ˖| ༄.༄. | ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ | .𖥔 ݁ ˖| ༄.༄. | ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ | .𖥔 ݁ ˖| ༄.
Jason Todd
Tim Drake
Zuko
Leon Kennedy
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ravenna-reid · 1 month
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Zuko & Hanahaki
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Hanahaki: a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from unrequited love.
There you sat. Adorned in apple red robes, carefully feeding and playing with the turtle ducks. Zuko stood concealed by the shadows of his opulent home and continued watching you. Continued watching the girl he'd first became infatuated with all those years ago before his scar. Before his banishment. And now that he was back and the new Fire Lord, you two were both able to rekindle your friendship.
Friendship. Zuko hated the word, especially when you used it. Because being back home and spending time with you once again, and not having his banishment or father or the Avatar consume his thoughts, he suddenly realised how deeply he felt for you.
Your laugh suddenly filled the air like sweet perfume, pulling Zuko's lips into a smile. Something got caught in his throat, and he figured it was another symptom of being in love. But his brows furrowed once he realised something was really stuck in his throat. He let out a small cough, and watched three pink petals from his mouth float down to the ground. He looked down in disbelief and horror.
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"What do you mean you coughed up petals?"
"I don't know how else to put it Aang. I just, they came out of my mouth. I coughed them up!"
The hum of a simple tune caught Zuko's attention. Swinging his head in the direction it was coming from he watched as you walked past, accompanied by others. Aang and Katara followed his eyes to see you.
"Hi y/n!" They both called out, and you turned to wave back before you caught sight of Zuko. "Hi Zuko." You said warmly.
He awkwardly waved back and you continued down the path through the gardens with your peers. Another cough became lodged at the back of his throat and he couldn't help but let it out. Hands clamped over his mouth, Zuko coughed a little harder than before, and he kept his hands there, afraid to look. Aang and Katara simply stared back at him with a frown.
"Zuko, did you cough up flowers again?"
Zuko shook his head.
Unconvinced, Katara folded her arms. "Zuko."
He pulled his hands away, revealing the bundle of petals in the palm of his hands.
"Oh Zuko, you know what this is? You're sick with Hanahaki." Katara exclaimed.
"I think I heard Gyatso mention it once...I didn't think he was being serious though." Aang responded, scratching his head.
"Well, what is it and how do I get rid of it?" Zuko snapped, throwing the petals out of the window.
"It's a lovelorn disease. You're sick with flower petals because y/n isn't returning the love you feel for her!"
Zuko shook it off, stating it was the craziest thing he'd ever heard and declared he had Firelord duties to attend to. So with a giggle to themselves, Katara and Aang let Zuko be.
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It only got worse. And soon, Zuko found that he had to distance himself from you so that you wouldn't find out. There were times when Zuko, the gaang and yourself would all spend time together and Zuko could feel the stir in his chest. The odd sensation in his throat and he'd quickly hurry away.
"Ha! He's coughing up those petals again-"
Katara swiftly elbowed Sokka to shut him up.
"Ow.." Sokka said, rubbing his side.
But you were too focused on Zuko's figure becoming smaller and smaller as he headed down the hall. Curiosity and concern itched at the back of your brain. Why was Zuko acting as though he couldn't stand to be around you anymore. What had changed? What did you do?
Aang came up beside you, watching on with you as Zuko disappeared around the corner. "Maybe you should talk to him."
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Of course you could imagine Zuko's dread when one of his officials and trusted advisors interrupted his quick escape. He quickly slipped his hands under the sleeves of his robe, holding onto the petals in his fist. And as they spoke to him, you can imagine his frustration when they told Zuko that he ought to organise an event at the palace in honour of him slowly bringing peace between the nations.
So the throne room was filled with generals and lady's dressed in their most expensive clothes, along with music and servants serving the most exquisite meals. Everyone was having a splendid time.
Zuko, however, was a mess. He had anticipated your arrival the entire night, but he was also worried about seeing you, given his odd disease. And so when you finally walked through those doors you instantly stole the breath from his lungs. Crimson silk robe draped over your body. A beautiful golden headpiece with red petals in your hair.
Petals. Zuko scoffed at the irony. You were already scanning the crowd for Zuko, until your eyes locked onto each other. His dark hair was up, complimented by the Firelord headpiece. He looked so handsome, so sweet as he stared back at you. That was until he quickly averted his gaze and hurried away, and that heavy feeling was back in your chest.
Zuko could barely contain it now. As he walked out to the pond where the turtle ducks lied asleep and close to their mother, handfuls of petals kept escaping him, leaving a trail behind as he coughed.
And coughed, and coughed, and coughed.
He cursed his stupid situation. This stupid disease. These stupid petals. Arms crossed, he glared out at the pond before footsteps amongst the grass caught his attention.
"Zuko?"
It was you. He half turned to see you glancing down at the cherry blossom trail on the ground. Then, with a glint of confusion passing through your eyes, you looked back at him. Zuko wanted to crawl into a hole. He wanted to crawl into the smallest hole he could find and hide in there forever.
"Zuko, what is this?"
He instinctively turned from you. "Nothing." He said, grimacing at his harsh tone.
"It's not nothing..." You said, coming closer until you were by his side. Zuko's body tensed with you being so close to him. So close, yet so far away.
"Zuko, look at me." You held onto the sleeve of his robe and turned him to face you. Shame and embarrassment quickly flooded his expression as he struggled to look you in the eye.
"I said it's nothing. I swear."
"No..." You shook your head, your heart heavy in your chest as the realisation hit you. "The gaang were telling me about this. Just the other day. Hanahaki disease. I didn't realise you had it."
Zuko scowled. Of course they couldn't keep this to themselves and felt the need to give you hints. He shook his head and turned his body away from you again.
"There's someone? A girl that isn't returning your affections?"
Zuko was silent. You let out a sad sigh, wondering who he had such fervent feelings for.
"And she hasn't noticed that you like her? What a stupid girl." You said, arms crossed over your dress.
Zuko turned to you and the words fell from his lips before he could realise what it was he was saying. "Don't call yourself stupid."
Stunned. Both of you were stunned as you stared at each other.
"Me?" You breathed.
Zuko hesitantly grabbed your hand. "Well, who else? It's only ever been you."
But you were too surprised to respond. Both surprised and ecstatic.
"You got Hanahaki because of me?" You asked, a slight smile creeping onto your face.
Zuko bashfully rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess."
Then, you did something you thought you'd never do. Still holding onto his hand, you leant in and gave him a quick, tender kiss on his lips. And in that moment, Zuko had never felt more at peace and embarrassingly enough, completely obsessed with you. Only meaning it to be quick because your shyness was getting the better of you, you were about to pull back until Zuko went back in for more. His kiss deep and passionate. Both of your hearts soared, and now nothing else mattered except for you and the relationship that was beginning to blossom.
Your kisses finally came to a stop, and your arms gently wrapped around his neck, your head resting on top of his shoulder. The thrumming in Zuko's chest was so intense he was afraid you would be able to feel it. Still, Zuko did what he'd been wanting to do for so long. He wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your hair, eager to never let you go.
You smiled to yourself as a soft giggle fell from your lips. "You taste like cherry blossoms."
Zuko gave a breathy laugh in return.
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ravenna-reid · 1 month
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Once they are in a relationship, do you think Jason would be more comfortable sleeping in a bed with reader or alone? I could imagine either for various reasons
I think for a long time, Jason would be more comfortable sleeping alone, all the while desperately wanting to physically sleep together.
At any stage in the relationship, but especially in its early stages, Jason would be deeply insecure about how his trauma and his work could affect his partner.
He'd come home at odd hours: at dawn, just before the sun rose, perhaps midday after a particularly long case, reeking of blood and gunpowder. And he'd find himself moving as quietly as he could in his own home, doing his best not to disturb you. He'd probably just collapse on the couch than risk waking you.
Then, there were the nightmares, the ones that would have him wake up with a scream still lodged in his throat, the ones that would have him rising from the bed on shaking legs, so that he could vomit in the bathroom sink.
The ones that he would do anything to hide from you.
Because while he trusts you, there is a part of him—the part that had once been Robin, the part that had been left alone to die in the dark—that is terrified you will leave when you find out just how broken he is.
I think for the most part, he'll want to sleep alone, even when he needs the comfort.
There might be days when you catch him off-guard, though. Perhaps after a particularly rough case, one that has him stumbling through the doors of your shared home, already half-asleep with exhaustion. Perhaps he'll find you reading a book in a patch of sunlight by the window. Perhaps you had just finished baking, and the house smells like coffee and freshly-risen dough.
And for a second he'll think that he doesn't want to be alone.
"Busy?" he asks in a voice so ragged with exhaustion that it doesn't even sound like him.
When you shake your head, he'll find himself sitting right next to you on the couch, still reeking of blood and gunpowder.
When you try to ask about the case, he briefly considers lying.
But when he looks at you, he finds that he doesn't want to lie. Because even through the thick leather of his gloves, your hands feel warm against his. Because you look beautiful in the honeyed light.
Because, he thinks, that maybe you will not leave him alone in the dark.
"Can I stay here?" he asks.
"Jason," you say. "this is your home, too."
Home, he thinks.
He hasn't had that since Wayne Manor burned down.
This time, he does not move quietly as he removes his helmet, his gloves. They hit the carpeted floor with a muffled thump.
This time, he does not move away.
Instead, he lays his head on your lap, and lets himself melt against the warmth of your skin. He watches the sun dance across the ceiling of the apartment, and he inhales the scent of coffee and freshly-risen dough and the sweet scent of you.
He feels your hand gently stroking his hair and he thinks: yes, this is home.
This time when he sleeps, he does not dream.
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ravenna-reid · 1 month
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Ok but hear me out.
Jason Todd and Forensic Psychologist Reader.
Imagine you caught Jason's attention when some of his guys were randomly discussing who the best forensic psychologist in Gotham City was. After that, he made it his mission to find out everything about you, and in the process he ended up becoming sick with infatuation.
So now you've been, well, you wouldn't call it dating but you'd both been seeing each other for a few months. Up in your penthouse apartment, far from the common Gotham crime. It made Jason glad, the idea of you being so high up and far away from the dark alley ways and thugs. But what really made him sleep a little easier at night was the fact that he had installed new locks onto your windows and door.
So now you both laid there, tangled in your silk sheets. Jason was whispering sweet nothings to you in between kisses.
"My little psychologist." His lips locked onto yours before you pulled away.
"Little?" He stopped looking for your lips and finally opened his eyes to take you in. Even when you were trying to look annoyed you were gorgeous.
"I meant it in an endearing way. I promise."
"Well, your little psychologist has to go to work now." You teased as you began to manoeuvre your way out of his large arms. Jason quickly tightened them around your waist.
"No wait-" He said pulling you back in. Jason accidentally let that slither of desperation show again. But you loved it. "Stay, please."
Wry smile on your lips, you began to slip back into bed. "Alright, but only because it's you..."
You initiated the kiss this time as he melted back into your touch. Hands travelling around your waist to your back. Body pressed against yours.
"My little vigilante." You laughed, and he gave a smirk in return.
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ravenna-reid · 2 months
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Black Vixen & Ballet
Jason Todd x Ex-Ballerina Vigilante Reader
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Another ballet show held in the heart of Gotham City. The opulent building was filled with the rich and conceited with their glistening jewels, glasses of alcohol and expensive clothing. You stood on the balcony that looked over the entrance and small bar that sat outside the theatre, silently judging and observing them all. Soon, all of the aristocrats that were here drinking and gossiping would file into the theatre and watch the Swan Lake, and pretend that they weren't some of the worst and most corrupt people in Gotham.
Hair cascading down your back and your fitted, satin dress the colour of the midnight sky trailing behind you, you simply held onto your untouched wine glass and watched. Someone's hand suddenly slipped between yours and your glass, smoothly taking it from your hold. Turning to see who was asking for your attention, you just managed to hide your surprised expression. That cologne, those eyes, you recognised it all instantly.
"Mm," He hummed, looking down at your nails as he took a sip from your glass. Claws is what the thugs on the streets were calling them, and it made you laugh. Black, slick and sharp, they were both pretty and lethal. Just like you. "I'd notice those nails anywhere."
His eyes flickered up to look at you, his dark raven hair hanging before them, still a little damp from his shower. He wore an impeccable suit, but it did little to hide how muscular he was.
"You're not still holding a grudge against me, are you?" You asked softly, a smirk on your lips as you took your glass back.
He cocked his head to the side, a disapproving glint passing through those ocean blue eyes.
"You scared me, what was I to do?" You reasoned, pretending to be upset and wearing your best, fake saddened expression. Jason moved behind you until he was at your other side, looking down at the bustling audience below.
"So is that what you do?" He began, "Hit first and ask questions later?"
"I guess I've been hanging around you for too long." You smiled, and he failed to suppress his own smile. Your eyes trailed down his tie to where his stomach was, and you could imagine the claw marks you had accidentally left behind.
"I did apologise." You replied, voice smooth like wine. It did something to Jason. Made him both love sick and feral. Weak at the knees and desperate.
Yes, you had apologised. You remembered that night and how he hesitantly closed the space between the both of you. How you had held your hand over the scratch marks to try and ease the pain. The look in his eyes and the thrumming in your chest. The cool breeze. The dark alley way with its broken streetlights. You had quietly explained to him what you were doing, and he gave you a curt warning to stay safe. Then he had pulled his hood back over his head and disappeared as quickly as he came.
Glasses clinking and fake laughter rippled through out the warmly lit room. He leant down on the railing and you couldn't help but take note of how close the two of you were. Just centimetres away from arms brushing against each other. So close yet so far away.
"Reminiscing?" He asked looking over at you, voice like whiskey on ice. You forgot that he knew you were once the foremost ballerina in Gotham. The night that changed it all being the night you performed as the Black Swan. Strong, elegant, skilled and striking. You were a dazzling star. Your hair was in a slicked back bun, make-up beautiful and fierce, adorned in black lace. He once mentioned how he had been there that night, much to your surprise, leaving out that he'd been forced to go by Bruce and Dick for socialising reasons. He thought you were the most stunning girl he'd seen, but soon realised you were too good for him.
You hummed in response, and he wondered how you went from an esteemed Ballerina to a feared Vigilante. From the Black Swan to being called the Black Vixen. You suddenly turned, leaning your back on the cool, gilded railing and turning to him. He watched as your silky hair moved against your shoulder. He swallowed hard, the intense fluttering continuing in his chest.
"If you're here for Dickinson..." you began, gliding closer towards him so no one else could hear you, "You better be smart about it. His thugs are everywhere."
His head instinctively moved closer to yours. How did you know about Dickinson? How did you know that was Jason's latest target? "What do you know?"
"Not enough." Your perfume flooded his senses, his eyes trailing from the end of your black dress back up to your eyes.
"You're here on a mission?"
Turning from him, you shrugged.
"Are you armed?"
"Maybe, maybe not."
Without meaning to, he grabbed hold of your arm. His grip gentle yet demanding. "Listen, you can't mess with these guys-"
You fiercely turned to face him again. "Don't you think I know that?"
You were both back in that alley way, looking at each other like you'd die for each other. So much longing. So much yearning.
"Jason!" Your eyes turned to another boy, hair dark and eyes bright like his, as he made his way over. Jason. It was nice to finally put a name to the face. The boy gave you a large smile before focusing on Jason with a sly smirk. "Well, who is this?"
Jason let go of your arm as he turned to his brother and cursed his timing under his breath. "She's a...a friend. She used to be a ballerina." Jason turned back to face you, but found an empty space instead.
"Huh," Dick chuckled. "Looks like she needed an excuse to quickly ditch you. Glad I could help her out." His laugh rang in Jason's ears, his arm falling around Jason's shoulders in a joking manner.
Jason shot his brother a cold look before searching the area for you. But you were no where to be found.
"Black Vixen...what are you up to?"
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