BuT iM a ViRgIn! (LokixReader)
Summary: The first in a series where I write my take on my favorite fanfic clichés.
Reader is a princess of Vanaheim and she finds herself driven by curiosity and a dare to the chambers of Asgard's younger prince. In her naïveté, she's not sure what to expect from this impromptu rendezvous, but quickly discovers that she's in over her head with the experienced young man. She's in uncharted territory, but she soon realizes that the lap of Prince Loki of Asgard is exactly where she wants to be.
Author's notes: These one-shots are meant to celebrate frequently used story tropes. The intent is to add new stories bi-weekly unless life gets in the way. Please feel free to comment with your favorite fanfic clichés, and I'll add them to the list!
Pairing: Loki (Marvel) x Female Reader
Content Warning: 18+ smut ahead (Reader is of age)
“My lady, it would be my absolute honor to be the first to devour you.”
“What are you doing here?” Loki’s deep growling voice boomed with authority. He had every right to the heat he was throwing behind his words. You were trespassing in his chambers after all.
The truth was that you’d been sent there by your sisters on a dare. But there was another truth too.
“I was curious,” well, a half truth, but you were still testing the waters.
“Curious about what?”
“Curious about Asgard. Curious about court life,” there was the lie. A blatant one. You knew all about Asgard and its court. Your parents made sure you were well educated in that matter. It was their clear intention was that one of their daughters, one of the heirs to Vanaheim, marry into Asgardian royalty. It would give them prestige among the nine realms - a closeness with the Allfather not afforded elsewhere. You didn’t care much about their ambition, but you did care to converse with the enigmatic younger Asgardian prince. He’d spoken little at the welcome ceremony, and perhaps even less at dinner - a quality that made your younger sister giggle and call him “creepy” and your older sister yawn and call “boring”. But to you he was intriguing. A puzzle box. A mystery to be solved.
“Mmmm, so Vanaheim’s prettiest daughter comes into my chambers late at night out of… curiosity? I guess it would be undiplomatic to not indulge you,” it was more words than you’d ever heard him speak at one time and they came from his throat like a purr. Perhaps he had seen through your lie?
Loki turned from the semi-public foyer of his chambers towards gilded billowy drapes that separated his truly private rooms. He beckoned you to follow with only two quick waves of his fingers. You weren’t entirely naive to these matters, and frankly, you weren’t sure what you expected, coming here in the night, but you had the distinct feeling that you might be in quite over your head.
His bed chamber was full of dark mahogany with gilded trim and plush velvet upholstery. The incense burning was thick and heady, rich with berry and pitch and honey. It was so unlike the flowery, ephemeral scents of you and your sisters. It was so far off from the light and airy colors of your own decor which belied your innocence.
Loki draped himself on a low sofa in the center of the room. His long limbs dripping with black silk sat in contrast to the plush green upholstery. His form stretched from end to end, with one elbow perched delicately against an armrest allowing the top of his tunic to fall open and expose the top of his chest.
“Come, sit. Let me satisfy your… curiosity,” another purr, so dripping in innuendo that it made your head spin.
“There… there’s no room my lord. Or shall I pull up a chair?” Your courtly manners could always be counted on to kick in when your brain all but stopped working.
“Or you could sit on my lap… my lady,” his return of the courtly speech that you had volleyed at him made your stomach flip. It would be impolite to refuse a prince this simple request, wouldn’t it? Especially since your parents were so keen on having their daughters develop a certain… closeness with Odin’s sons.
You lifted your skirts, a sleeveless housecoat over your chemise, and sat yourself between his legs. His right one was propped up behind you, and his left was somewhere beneath, tucked under your knees. It wasn’t exactly scandalous for another noble to see you without the entirety of your court garments, you were completely covered after all, but tucked between Loki’s legs like this, you felt positively indecent.
Loki’s long fingers reached towards your face, taking a lock of your hair and brushing it behind your ear. You weren’t sure what to say or do in this moment. You realized that, somewhat stupidly, you believed showing up in a prince’s private quarters in the middle of the night and in a state of semi-undress would lead to quiet conversation and maybe a cup of tea. What was transpiring was somehow so much better than that, but also so much worse. You were in uncharted territory.
He brought his hand down your neck and rubbed your jawline until he had captured your chin and pulled your gaze directly toward him, “Tell me, daughter of Vanaheim, what do you want to know about Asgard and its court?”
“I… uhh,” your head was still fuzzy, unable to gain purchase on your rapidly evolving predicament, “Does Odin, sorry, the Allfather, really have two ravens that bring him the news of the Nine Realms?”
When you were done speaking Loki ran the soft pad of his thumb over your lips before replying, “Yes. He has many methods of knowing things, but Huginn and Muninn are reliable informants.”
Loki wasn’t looking at your lips anymore. He was looking at the top of your chemise, and then you were following his gaze down your arm, its silhouette visible through the slightly sheer fabric of your garment. He took your hand then, forcing you to lean closer towards him and catch yourself with your free arm wedged between his body and the furniture’s back rest.
He kissed you on your palm, softly, on the most tender part, and you thought your whole soul might escape your body with the tiny wimpier that left your mouth.
Loki smirked, satisfied, and placed your palm on his cheek, “How about a question for a question, my lady? Why did you really seek out my chambers this evening?”
“I… I wanted to get to know you… better…” there were a million cordial things you wanted to say about diplomacy, about the interests you perceived him to have, about how you tired of the same conversations that you always had with your sisters… but none of it came out. All you could think about was the heat growing in your chest and rising in your cheeks, and the feeling between your legs that you couldn’t quite place.
“Mmmm,” another growling purr that reverberated in your body, “I am delighted that of all your sisters, you’re the one who wants to get to know me better. I’d have thought you quite shy, but then there you were, half naked in my chambers…” He brought your hand to his lips again. He kissed the tender underside of your wrist, then the spot just below, and lower and lower down your arm, slowly and deliberately. All you could see was stars
“Do… Do you like to read?” If you were going to get to know him, then you were going to get to know him, reading could be a common ground, perhaps?
Loki was almost at the inside of your elbow now. He gave a funny kind of grin before saying into your skin, “Well, yes, but I -,” he stopped suddenly, pulling his face away from your arm and his ministrations there, leaving a sudden unwelcome chill, “Hang on, have you ever been bed before?”
“I have my finger on your pulse, and its quickening. I don’t need to use my gifts to know if you’re lying.”
“No,” you admitted, “This is new for me,” your reply was rushed and breathy. You were afraid of what he might do next. You were afraid he would delight in your admission and quicken his already fervent advancements, but you were more more afraid that he would reject you for your inexperience.
He dropped your hand and gently pushed your shoulders away from him, and disentangled his legs from your body.
“I am so sorry my lady. When I saw you in my chambers I made assumptions based on my own experiences. Please, I beg of you to not think ill of me or of Asgard for my inappropriate advances. If you wish genuinely for conversation, I am happy to oblige in the daylight hours, with a chaperone, so that there can be no questions of your impropriety. I am sorry to have advanced on the assumptions of something you did not seek nor want.”
Loki was standing now, and you were reeling from the sudden change of tone. Your body was still flushed, but his voice was now cold. Was he rejecting you, or respecting you? Either way you preferred the warmth of his lap over the chill of this new distance.
“No, Loki, you misunderstand. I am naive, but not unwilling. Perhaps, I had not realized what your assumptions would be, but I can’t say that I’m… disinclined,” you had felt that you were on the precipice of this decision for a while now. Experience wasn’t frowned upon, certainly you were old enough to embark on this journey, it was juts that you had never found any option particularly appealing before now.
“My lady, I should not have rushed ahead. I am more than experienced, my father might say a bit too experienced, and I assumed the same of you. I do not mean to pressure you into behavior you’re not accustomed to. I rushed ahead at much too fast a pace.”
You took a beat, to take that in, “Then maybe… Then maybe we just slow down.”
An impish, shy grin curled his lips, “There’s a way these things are done, my lady. For people like you. For people like me.”
“You didn’t seem so concerned with the way things are done but a moment ago when you were wrapped around me. In fact you seemed quite intent on indecency.”
His cheeks flushed and for the first time you saw color there, on his face. It emboldened you.
“Question for a question my lord. Do you want me?”
Loki gulped and closed his eyes for a moment longer than necessary, “It would be a lie to say that I did not find the idea of you… alluring,” he carefully clasped his hands in front of him to cover the crotch of his draped pants. You weren’t so naive as to not understand the mechanics of desire, “Do you agree to embarking on this act without any… expectations?”
You nodded, politely but in earnest. You hadn’t come to his room for proposals of marriage. You’d come because you couldn’t get the image of the raven-haired prince out of your mind since arrival. It burned an insatiable curiosity in you, a curiosity that was awakening other sensations you had.
Loki stepped forward, your face meeting him mid-chest, he brushed your hair out of your face once more, and again caught your chin to raise your gaze to his.
“Alright, we’ll go slow.”
He sat again, next to you on the green velvet that in that moment encompassed your whole world. He stroked your hair with both hands now, slowly caressing you into a warm calm. He cradled your face in his large, comforting palms, rubbing the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs. Slowly, back and forth, erasing the tension set in your face and jaw. You leaned into his touch, and catching your momentum, Loki gently brought your face towards his. Barely parted lips caught yours, and the heat of his mouth sent reassuring pleasure down your spine as your eyes gently shut.
He kissed you again, this time letting his tongue wet your lips. Then again, letting his tongue gently part them. He kissed you again, and this time you kissed him back leaning into the pressure.
As you continued he led, gently exploring your lips and mouth. When something felt particularly good your mirrored it. It was soft, and warm, and so much better than talking or tea. You hadn’t noticed him gently moving his hands down your body or deftly untying the belt of your light over coat. You were enveloped in the heady feel of his lips against yours and the heat of his breath on your mouth. It wasn’t until he bit your lower lip, a comparatively gentle nip, yet still in sharp contrast to the rest of his silky kisses, that your trance was broken. It caught you off guard and you let out another wimpier, lower, and breathier this time.
“Is that too much?” He asked, but not quite pulling away.
“No, it’s… exquisite,” you became very aware of his hands now, rested on your ribs just over your sheer chemise, and decidedly underneath the coat you’d worn for modesty. Your eyes were half-open, and as you shirked the unnecessary outer garment you watched him take your body in. The finely woven fabric of your dress draped over the swell of your hips and breasts, and the darkened color of your nipples showed ever so slightly through the white cloth.
Loki grabbed one end of the string that closed the cinched neckline of the garment, letting it fall open and show the top curvature of your breasts. He slowly moved to kiss your jaw, then down your neck, and then your collar, finally tracing a trail with his lips along the top edge of your barely-there gown. He squeezed at your waist and then looked up at you, asking for permission to proceed with his eyes.
You nodded, breathlessly, giving him the go-ahead.
With his lean fingers, Loki slipped the now loose neck of your chemise over your shoulders and down your body, letting it pool at your waist. With one hand, then the other he cupped the exposed bells of your breasts squeezing gently, then rolling your nipples under the pads of his thumbs. The sound that escaped your mouth now was akin to a sigh but with much more desperation and need. Loki captured your moan with his lips, his own groaning need escaping him. He returned his mouth down your body, taking in one nipple at a time, rolling each between his lips and tongue. He began taking gentle bites at first, then harder and harder, spurred on by the excited gasps coming from your throat.
There was a breeze coming through the window, but your whole body felt hot and sticky with warmth. You were aware, in the abstract, of the function of your own arousal, but what every governess had failed to explain was how delightfully persistent the the heat between your legs felt. It screamed to be acknowledged and yet the torture of leaving the feeling unaddressed was so exquisite.
Loki kissed the soft swells of your breasts, humming pleasure into each one. He pushed you gently back to lean against the soft green velvet and kissed wet paths of warm pleasure down your torso, across your belly, bringing his hands and mouth to rest on your still covered hips. He let his head hang there a moment, the heat of his breath penetrating the thin fabric covering your lower half. He had kissed you all over, it seemed, and you knew exactly where you waned him to put his skilled lips next.
But he stopped, leaning his cheek against your covered thigh.
“What we do tonight can’t be undone,” his breathy composure told you that it was taking all of his willpower to have this moment with you rather than forge ahead, “Are you sure you want me to proceed? I would think no less of you if this is where you desired to stop.”
Your body did not want to stop. Your body was screaming for attention in unprecedented ways. Your body was screaming for the raven-haired prince to show you things you’d never felt before.
“No. No I want you to keep going, I need,” but then the doubt crept in, remembering it wasn’t just about you, even though your pleasure felt like the entirety of the whole world, “That is… if you want to?”
Loki squeezed and kissed your thigh before speaking:
“My lady, it would be my absolute honor to be the first to devour you.”
With that he slipped off the rest of your chemise and pressed his face into the steaming apex between your legs. He moaned into you, and for the first time in your life you felt weak in a way that made you feel whole. The first lap of his tongue along your folds made your skin tingle with novel excitement. The second lap of his tongue stroked ever so gently past your clit and made you gasp. The third was more pointed, a firm attack on your pleasure that made you grasp at the velvety pile of the furniture.
Loki continued licking and nipping at the needy sensation in your groin, which much to your surprise grew in urgency, rather than dissipated at his touch. You closed your eyes and pressed your head back. You felt the distance between your brain and your core stretch as your head filled with ecstasy.
The pleasure grew in urgency. It was unyielding, like it was trying to tell you something, something important. It grew to be almost unbearable and your body clenched against it. It wasn’t until Loki slipped one long finger inside of you that you understood, you understood what your body was telling you.
Your nerves exploded like a million tiny flowers in bloom. Your legs and fists clenched, and your eyes rolled back as you felt euphoric warmth envelop your body, like your veins were replaced with mead. The noise that came from you now was a new and foreign scream, primal in its origins, and you quickly clasped your hands over your mouth from confusion and in remembering the open windows.
Loki growled a moan into your pelvis, slowing, but not stopping his tongue’s ministrations, until he was contented that whatever elation he had conjured inside of you had run its full course. It wasn’t until your muscles relaxed that he pulled his mouth off your clit, and his finger from inside of you. Your hands stayed firmly clasped over your mouth, but he rested his cheek once more against your thigh and gazed at you from hooded eyes.
“That was beautiful,” his lips glistened with what you presumed was yourself.
“That was… unexpected,” your truthful reply.
“Well a lady like you should come to expect it. Demand it. What a waste for any lover to not see you come undone by their efforts,” he was kissing you again, along your thigh, his hand still lingering close to your opening.
You realized there was more to be experienced. You were pretty sure you hadn’t yet engaged in the most basic of acts. You thought perhaps that was something only married couples did, but then reason set in telling you that couldn’t possibly be true. You moved your hands from your mouth and looked once again at the crotch of Loki’s elegant pants. The way the silk caught the warm glow of the rooms’s candle light left little to the imagination.
“Loki… my lord, I feel as though I’ve learned so much about my pleasure, and yet, so little of yours. I did say that I wanted to get to know you… better,” your brain was screaming ‘take off your pants!!!!’ but your well-bred mouth would not let those words come out in that order.
“I see, my lady is not yet satisfied,” a return to his playful purr, “The curiosity she came to my chambers with is not yet sated?” His eyes drank you in. You felt self conscious under his gaze, but too limp from your euphoria to move to conceal yourself. He’d already seen everything anyway. Now it was his turn to reveal, “Come, I do not want to take you here. Like I said, there is a way these things are done after all,” he winked, as if you hadn’t already abandoned any notion of impropriety.
He took your hands gently and guided you up off of the velvet of the sofa and over to the pillowy throws of his bed. As your chemise fell away entirely you felt both completely exposed and completely alive. Your skin prickled with excitement chill. Your limp body stiffened with anticipation, your nipples growing hard, and the persistent, wanting warmth returning to your legs.
You sat at the edge of his bed and watched him shed his silk tunic, letting fall to a puddle on the floor. He took your hand and gently kissed it again, and then placed it on his bare chest. You let your fingers gently feel the muscles he had there, taught beneath his skin. He watched your hand move over his body as he slowly untied the string holding up his pants. When the knot was loose he let those too fall freely to the floor.
You gasped, just the slightest. It looked so different to the awkward drawings you had seen in books or the flaccid appendages adorning sculptures. It looked strong, and elegant and determined. Loki was watching you, watching your reaction to his exposure. Satisfied, he took your free hand, kissing it gently again, and placed it on the shaft of his erect member. You stroked it lightly, gingerly, not knowing how much pressure it could take. It looked hard like marble, but if it was anything like your own sensitivity, you kew that a little went a long way.
Loki closed his eyes with a wanton sigh. He brought his forehead down to yours as you continued to touch and feel the shape of his shaft, the curve of the head, and down to the soft flesh that hung below. He leaned in and kissed you as you explored, getting to know the shape of the matter. You could taste yourself on his lips as he leaned you back into the mattress. Emboldened you wrapped the arm you’d had on his chest up and around his neck, bring your kisses deeper.
You began to stroke slightly faster, and without thinking you pressed your hips into him, that urgent feeling building once again, slick with anticipation, your body now knowing, having some idea of the pleasures yet to come. Loki slowly stopped kissing you, bringing his lips instead to your ear, “Are you ready?” You nodded, cheek pressed against his, “Please tell me if it hurts, I’ll stop.”
Loki leaned back, taking his cock from your hand. You lay there in slightly awkward anticipation as he took in the sight of your body. He pressed one finger into you, then two. You moaned at his touch, but they slipped in and out easily. You knew you were ready for him. He ran his slicked fingers along his shaft and slowly leaned forward, lining the tip of his cock with your eager opening.
He pushed. He entered slowly, languorously, without urgency. He pushed until he was all the way inside, your legs spread wide to accept him, another person’s body in places that had yet been unattended.
He let his head drop with a low moan. Your eyes shut with the ecstasy. Every millimeter of him entering you sent sparks of pleasure crackling along your body. You thought you knew, then, why every song, every story, every poem, every tale was about this intimacy, the junction of two bodies. You thought you understood until…
Loki pulled his hips back then snapped them forward again. If the sensation of him slowly entering was like sparks of pleasure, then this was like a thunderclap. Your whole body shook with a jolt of euphoria and you wondered, frankly, why there wasn’t more written about sex. You wondered why anyone bothered at all to engage in any activity other than this. He thrust again, and again. A moderate pace at first, each jolt sending a cascade through your body resulting in whimpering moans, and then faster and faster like an engine building speed. Soon enough your head began to spin from the repeated sensation. You weren’t sure whether he was coming in or going out, and your body became insistent again, warning you of imminent undoing. You wrapped your arms and legs around the man on top of you, pulling him close and hanging on. His thrusts felt more powerful, like each one was lighting a fire inside of you, building an inferno of bliss between your hips. All it took was one thrust to connect with your still sensitive clitoris for all of the tinder in your body to catch, and you were once again propelled into rapture and wailing in pleasure. Your body clenched once more, and you felt yourself grip the girth of his cock, fluttering around it again and again.
Loki buried his face in your shoulder, planting his lips at the base of your neck. His thrusts stuttered and he groaned into you. His hips pressed deeper and deeper into your own. You felt something new, something warm, and realization dawned on you. You had reached what many would tell you was the point of this whole exercise. The conclusion, as you understood it. Loki’s body slacked, but he rested for a moment there, tucked into you. You watched his broad, muscular back rise and fall with his breaths, and you realized you were panting too, and still clinging to him like a raft in a storm. You released him, and a few moments later he stirred, first with a kiss on the neck, then he was pulling up, away and out of you, sending another curious sensation down your spine.
He kissed your stomach, and then your knee before wandering off, returning with a cloth to wipe at his now relaxed appendage, and then to wipe up the spill coming from between your legs. When he was satisfied he lay back down beside you, propped up by one arm, and the other draped across your waist.
“Tell me, my lady, has your curiosity been satisfied?”
“Thoroughly,” you were still breathless and hot, “You have educated me on many things this evening.”
“Remind me, when do you depart to return to Vanaheim?”
“Not for several nights yet, my lord.”
“Ah, well then I have many things left to teach you my lady. Many, many things.”
If you enjoyed please comment and reblog.
You can find me on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aesir_Alchemist
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Scars that Last (Arkham!Jason Todd X Scarlet Witch! Reader) Pt.1-Deseparation
I have no self-control... Please help...
So, this is a Soulmate AU, where if your soulmate receives a scar or feels physical pain, you also receive the scar and feel their pain.
Yeah... and this is Arkhamverse!Jason Todd and Scarlet Witch!Reader... you know what that means...
⚠️ Warning ⚠️ : Violence, mentions of torture and abuse, death, heartache and mental illness
There are a rare few people in this world, destined to have someone to love and be with. However, no one ever said it would be easy to meet and fall in love someone you've never met. Hell, falling in love with someone is never easy, especially if your future lover is out there, waiting for you. Especially if you don't know where they are, who they are, what they're doing or what's happening to them.
That's what makes it dangerous...
That's what makes it so gut-wrenching...
That's what makes it so scary...
The unknown of it all. The uncertainty of how you will meet your destined one and how that relationship will go. It could end happily and things could work out well, leading to some version of that sought-after white picket-fence life. But, sometimes... it could end down in tragedy before the relationship even begins...
And those unlucky enough to lose their soulmate before they meet them... will experience the worst kind of heartache possible...
At a young age, you were told you were special. Not only did you have unexplained powers that basically made you a witch, you were gifted with the rare bond and connection of a soulmate. This extremely rare and seemingly magical condition came in many different forms and varieties. Some people can't see color until they meet their soulmate. Some have matching tattoos or can send messages to their soulmate via writing on their skin.
Yours was a little more harsh and even painful. If you or your soulmate get hurt, one of you would also get the injury and feel the pain of the other...
Yeah... not exactly encouraging... but it was a way to identify your soulmate once you meet them...
Your adoptive family of your father, Commissioner Jim Gordon, and your sister, Barbara Gordon, were supportive of your condition. As for your powers, you only told Barbara about them, who she kept it a secret as a promise to you. She discovered you had them after she caught you using them to do the dishes and cooking dinner while Dad was working late one night.
At first, the scars that appeared on you were minimal at best. A paper cut here, a scrape on the knee there and nothing more. On the more exciting days, you would feel pain in the bridge of your nose and blood would leak from your nostrils. Hell, you even woke up some mornings with a few bruises on your torso, back and legs. This lead you to believe or assume that your soulmate was a bit of a fighter and a determined one at that. But deep down, you knew that there was something more to them than that...
"Hey (Y/N)! How goes learning more about your future significant other?" Barbara asked brightly, coming into the living room before going into the kitchen to get a refill on her coffee. She had just gotten back from a nightly crusade as Batgirl, so she was trying to stay awake. You smiled lightly at her before saying, "They're a trooper, Barb. They’re so tough and resilient. But, I feel like they has a soft spot, just waiting to be uncovered..."
"They sound perfect for you, sis..." you smiled once again at Barbara's compliment. For once, you feel like things were hopeful for the future.
Oh, if only you knew how cruel fate could be…
Several months later, you woke up in the middle of the night to horrible, intense pain. It felt like your bones and muscles were destroying themselves from the inside out. Like someone was using your body as a punching bag and doing an autopsy on you at the same time. You had never experienced anything like this before, but you were certain that it had to do with your soulmate.
Something very bad… in every sense of the word…
You immediately ran to the bathroom to see what was going on. However, your legs and body screamed in protest and you had to use the walls of the apartment to get to where you needed to go.
Once in the bathroom, you frantically turned on the lights before moving to the sink and mirror. Upon seeing your reflection, you wanted to scream, but all the shriek did was create a lump in your throat. You couldn't breathe or speak, only stare at the horror looking back at you.
There were multiple cuts and bruises all over your body, your face showing the most visible damage. Many of them freely bled out and stung like a bitch due to the cold air meeting them. Your right eye socket was severely bruised and your eye was red and irritated, pained tears welling up in it. In a fit of panic, you turned on the faucet and cupped your hands under the stream of water before splashing what was collected into your face.
"(Y/N), why are you doing-Oh my God! What happened?!" Barbara came rushing into the bathroom and proceeded to take your head in her hands.
"I don't know, Barb..." you wheezed out, tears spilling past your lashes as you placed your hands on top of hers. You then continued, all the while trying to calm yourself, "I think... I think my soulmate... I think they're in danger!"
"What is going on-Oh my God, (Y/N)!" Your father exclaimed, running up to you.
"Dad, I think my soulmate's in danger!"
"Don't worry, sweetheart... I'll put out a report, using your scars as a reference, okay? I'll make sure all the officers keep their eyes peeled while on duty, too."
You had a bad feeling about your father's declaration, but you chose to believe it. While he searched for your future partner with law enforcement, you would be working to get your powers to be able to create a mental connection between you and your soulmate. That way, should the police fail in their search, you would be able to find them on your own and bring them home.
It had been a few months since your father assigned the police to the task of finding your tormented soulmate. You were still receiving scars and injuries because of the torment they were going through. He even had Batman, who seemed to have an idea as to who your mysterious partner was. Though, he wouldn't tell you or your dad... almost as if he regretted what happened to them. So far, the search was showing very little success. It wasn't long until the vigilante gave you a name... and an alter ego...
"Your soulmate... Their name is Jason Todd. He was kidnapped by the Joker. He's the second boy in my custody to take on the mantle of Robin... and I couldn't save him from getting captured." He told you in that low, gruff voice that most criminals shrieked at the sound of. But the way he spoke the last sentence was almost akin to the remorseful tone of a father figure.
"Oh my god. Do you have any idea where he could be? Any leads at all?" You asked, desperate to find Jason, now that you knew he was the one bonded to you by fate.
"I don't have any clues as where the Joker is keeping him. He could be anywhere in the city."
"Then we can't just sit around now, can we?" You then started concentrating your powers towards the one thing on your mind-Jason.
"(Y/N), what are you doing?!" Batman yelled, now having seen your hands surrounded by a flaming red glow and that you were steadily moving them towards your own head.
"I'm sorry, but I can't let him go through the torture anymore. He could die! I can't let that happen! I have to help him... in whatever way I can!" You continued to move your glowing hands towards your head.
"(Y/N), he's not going to die! I'm gonna make sure of that!"
"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT! You, me and almost everyone else in Gotham know what kind of evil that fucking Pennywise washup is capable of! No amount of medicine or therapy is gonna fix that bastard... and I'm not about to let my soulmate, my future partner, be his next victim!" With that, you pressed your fingertips into your scalp, sending the energy you conjured into your mind.
Within a split second, you saw a boy in the Robin costume screaming in agony. For help... for any kind of help...
In the background, you could hear the laughter of the Devil who had trapped him in his very own undeserved hell...
The pain became too much for you to handle and you suddenly blacked out, never getting the location of your missing soulmate, Jason Todd...
A/N: I might have this split in two routes. One where the Reader tries to save Jason, but fails, leading to Jason becoming the Arkham Knight without her knowing. The other route is when Reader finds Jason after Joker kills him (of course Y/N kicks Joker's ass and resurrects Jason) and they both go down the path of the Arkham Knight and (Y/N) becomes... actually, I'm gonna save that for Route B...
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