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I can't believe we've brewed up this little corner of the internet together—1,000 strong! Whether you've been here since the first cup or just popped in for a sip, I'm beyond grateful for every like, reblog, and laugh we've shared. To celebrate, I’m officially starting the 1k cafe event where you can order up anything you’d like. So, grab your favorite mug and get comfy.

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🫓 - Macaron (I'll make dating headcannons for the character)

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See You Again

Chapter 1: The Coffin

Jason Todd x f!Reader

You were just a teenager when you lost your best friend, Jason Todd. Years later, your life is turned upside down, and you find your way back to him. He's changed. You've changed. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

[A/N]: Me? Publishing a Red Hood fic that's been sitting in my drafts for months? It's more likely than you think. Jason is such an interesting character and there have been so many takes on him and his story that I've lost count. All I can do is hope that I do his character justice, and that I can deliver something worthy to all of the Red Hood girlies (gn) out there!

Anyways, in this fic, f!reader is a researcher at STAR Labs Los Angeles for the Polestar program, a secret research operation investigating an ancient virus revived from the permafrost of the Arctic. She gets infected with the virus while trying to keep it from falling into the wrong hands—and that's when she meets the Red Hood.

Warnings: DC-typical violence

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STAR Laboratories Los Angeles

9:43:42 PM PT

The Coffin

You hated working in the Coffin.

The Coffin, as some of your coworkers called it—a cramped bunker of a cleanroom with thick concrete walls and vault-like hatches—was practically hermetically sealed from the rest of the world, and for good reason, too. 

The Coffin, STAR Laboratories LA’s so-called Sterile Research Unit, housed world-killers. 

They were all around you, housed in huge humming floor-to–low-ceiling freezers, in vials and Petri dishes. If one of those samples got out and contaminated the outside environment, you would have a huge, messy problem on your double-gloved hands. 

Located in the basement and separated from the rest of the facility by a sizable aseptics and decontamination unit, the only living things that shared the space with you were the dormant pathogens labeled and tucked away in the Coffin’s freezers. Chatter filtered through the radio comms unit on your lab bench, which you used to relay information with the rest of the researchers, your coworkers, involved in the Polestar study. 

“L/N, how are we doing down there?” A voice crackled through the comms. It was Dr. Davis, one of the senior researchers on the Polestar program.

“Hey, Davis. I’m happy to report that the Polestar vaccine prototype seems to be well on its way,” you reply, hearing the whoosh of your breath inside the respirator you donned before entering the cleanroom. “The vaccine seems to be pretty stable right now. I’ll continue to run tests.” You heard Dr. Davis’s hum of approval through the comms.

“Great to hear, Y/N. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t d—” It was an inside joke among the Polestar researchers that the Coffin was where bad researchers who half-assed their theses in grad school went to die. The sterile bunker was indeed a daunting place to run tests, with all of its doomsday-looking decor and freezers full of deadly viruses, but you had spent enough late nights in and out of decon to make the Coffin feel more like the world’s worst bathroom stall-turned-office cubicle.

“Dr. Davis?” You finally turned your gaze to the comms unit. “Dr. Davis, do you read me?” You could hear the faint sounds of commotion filtering through the comms; cacophony that should never be heard in a laboratory. “Is anyone there?” Someone started screaming—you recognized the voice to be Dr. Lee—and your heart jumped into your throat.

The sound coming from the comms unit suggested that the radio on the other end of the line had fallen to the floor. The speaker emitted more crackly yells. 

“ Doctor—” It was Dr. Davis. He was alive, but barely. The sounds of fighting rose around him. “Doctor—dammit, Y/N, do you hear me? Stay where you are and barricade yourself in the Coffin, they’re coming for the—” Dr. Davis’s voice cut out, replaced by garbled radio feedback. Right before the radio dissolved into static, you swore you had heard him howl in pain. You stared at the comms, heart thumping in your ribcage. You were beginning to sweat in your hood and coveralls and the respirator felt heavy on your face. You tore your attention from the comms to survey the frigid lab around you. The Coffin had been reserved by the Polestar program so you could test small lab animals to observe the virus’s behavior in living organisms and develop a vaccine for it, so most of the work laid out on the benches was Polestar’s. Cages sat in neat stacks, housing the lab rodents you had been studying. You could care less about the unbelievably expensive machinery or the infected rodents that could infect humans should they escape the Coffin, though; a dip into STAR Labs and the CDC’s research grants for Polestar would replace it all. Your eyes darted around the Coffin, eyeing the huge, heavy hatches that kept you encased inside the bunker. Whoever was outside, they’d have to get through aseptics and decon, which would keep them busy for at least a few minutes as they forced their way inside. 

“Oh, no, no, no,” you muttered to yourself as you swept glass vials and syringes around on your workbench into a cluster, creating a disjointed melody of clinking glass and metal. The rats began to turn restlessly in their cages. Your breathing picked up, coming out in short, shaky breaths as you ran from countertop to countertop, stowing away glassware still full of solutions and dumping solids into the trash—you’d get back to them later, if there was even a later for you. Screw how much that stuff cost by the gram, and screw how much time you’d spent synthesizing and isolating those precipitates.

No time to think about that , you thought to yourself as you rushed back to the workbench where your radio and the vials sat. You stared at the assortment of glass vials and syringes, panicking. They can all go in the freezer, right? Or the storage vault, or…

There was no time to think. You rushed to the freezer with trays full of vaccines and viruses alike in your arms, hurriedly punching in the code and scanning your retina to open the door to the walk-in freezer. The door unlocked with a hiss, and you silently begged the automatic door to open faster as you heard the sound of a squad’s worth of footsteps stomping through decon. Squeezing through the opening, you all but shoved the tray into the nearest vacant bottom shelf and sprinted out, hammering the button to shut the freezer doors.

You heard clanking against the entrance to the coffin, one, two, three…

A blinding flash of light followed by a deafening explosion shook the Coffin, and you instinctively turned away to shield yourself. You saw tongues of flame licking the entrance to the Coffin, flooded with red light. 

Oh, shit. 

How many of the substances stored in the Coffin were flammable? You hoped the explosion that blew the enormous hatch to the Coffin off its hinges and the flames that followed hadn’t reached far enough to hit the flammable substances storage unit. 

Behind the rubble of the hatch stood a cluster of black-clad figures, outfitted with bulky body armor and gas masks. They swept the Coffin with the muzzles of their rifles before stepping over the threshold and into the Coffin. You stifled a gasp and ducked behind one of the countertops, hoping that you weren’t spotted. Maybe you could find something heavy, like a fire extinguisher, and taken one out—

“Gotcha.” 

You couldn’t help the shriek that escaped your lungs as you whipped around, grabbing the nearest thing off of the countertops—a ring stand, luckily enough, and not something more expensive or fragile—and swung it in the direction of the voice. Your eyes widened as the heavy base of the ring stand failed to meet bone—and was instead stopped in its path by a strong, gloved hand around your wrist. Your hands shook as the hand’s owner, wearing a gas mask with round, reflective discs for eyes, lowered the ring stand with one hand and aimed the barrel of a handgun at you. 

“What do you want from me,” you choked out, your mouth feeling dry as you stared down the cold black barrel of the gun. The soldier chuckled, their voice—his voice?—deep and gravelly, muffled by the mask.

“Just your cooperation.” With a jerk of his hand, he lifted the ring stand, still attached to your hand, and forced you out into the open. “You know what we’re here for.” He wrestled the ring stand from your grip and tossed it away, the heavy thunk making you wince. He took your wrist in a crushing grip, and adrenaline shot up your spine. 

“I’m just a lab aide. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied quickly, not quite confident in your skills as a thespian (or a liar).

“Oh, yeah, Dr…” Still holding the gun in front of your face, they cocked their head to check your badge. “...L/N?”

Shit.

“You know how it is…the job market’s pretty tough for Ph. D.’s these days.” You chuckled nervously. “Seriously, though, I’m just here to wash glassware.” The soldier laughed coldly.

“You seem pretty calm for somebody staring down the barrel of a gun…I bet you’re smart. Bet you know a lot about all the super secret research in this shithole, too.” You couldn’t see it, but under his mask, his gaze settled upon something on the floor. “Maybe you could tell me a little about this thing right here.” You followed his line of sight and felt your blood go cold.

How could I have—

He nudged the syringe with the toe of his boot so that it rolled right to you. It took all you had to keep yourself from lunging for it. Your eyes caught the biohazard symbol printed on the label and you felt yourself die a little inside.

The Polestar virus was on the floor. The deadly ancient virus you had resurrected was in a syringe on the fucking floor. 

“Hmm, not sure how that got there—” Your words were taken from you when the barrel of the handgun made contact with the flesh of your chin, forcing your head back.

“Enough! Tell us where the virus is and maybe the actual lab aides won’t have to mop your brains off the fucking floor.” You grimaced.

“It’s right there,” You replied through gritted teeth. “In that syringe.” Keeping the gun’s sights on you, the soldier stooped to pick up the syringe. “It’s in a liquid suspension that was supposed to be for the rats. We were running tests—” You caught yourself rambling before you could divulge anything more damning. Maybe it was the gun pointed at your head and your life on the line, but you felt like your brain was out to lunch and had thrown out all common sense before it left. “—well, the bottom line is…just don’t break that syringe. The virus inside is viable and dangerous.” The soldier laughed again, this time more arrogantly.

“I don’t c—”

“I’d listen to her if I were you.” You, the soldier—everyone in the Coffin—turned to the source of the modulated voice. A huge silhouette passed through the sanguine lights of decon. The glint of the red helmet caught your eye first, then the red bat insignia splashed across the figure’s armored chest. 

Huh.

That posture—the way the helmeted figure stood to make himself look bigger—tickled the back of your brain. Your train of thought, however, was stopped short by your captor yanking your wrist and wrapping his free arm around you in a headlock. He trained his gun at the red helmet before you, who produced a pair of his own firearms.

“Don’t shoot,” your captor barked, and you realized what was in the hand that was clutching the fabric of your PPE. You struggled to break free, but the body behind you felt like a pillar with armor for cushioning. “Or she goes with me.” The helmeted Bat slowly lowered his weapons, which earned a smug huff from your captor, whose grip loosened on your PPE. You sighed in relief and started to extract yourself from you felt his arms quickly wrap around your neck again, making you cry out.

“No!” The helmeted figure called out. You heard the crack of the gunshot and the sound of the bullet meeting flesh. You felt warm blood—not yours—splatter on your face and trickle onto your coverall and you shuddered. You felt the soldier, impossibly heavy, slump over onto your body and slide to the ground. The gunfire of his squad mates erupts around you and you see the red-helmeted newcomer duck behind a glovebox and return fire. You dive for cover, watching the soldiers drop behind you. You see the red helmet emerge again to take out the last of the soldiers, engaging in hand to hand—these fighters seemed to be highly trained—and putting the occasional bullet through the weak points of their armor. The last bullet casing fell to the floor with a resounding ping! and you heard boots moving towards you once more. 

“Are you okay?” 

It hadn’t occurred to you why the soldier had held on so tightly to your PPE—you hadn’t felt the little prick in your collarbone when the gunfire had started. Dread pooled in the pit of your stomach as you slowly lowered your gaze to where the syringe stuck out above your clavicle, only dredges of fluid left, the black-and-yellow biohazard symbol turned up to the light like a bright and deadly flower. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: We are hitting the ground running! Hope that was a good start to this fic.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

See You Again

Chapter 2: Polestar

Jason Todd x f!reader

You and the Red Hood escape the laboratory.

[A/N]: This is the second of the two chapters I had already written. I just started writing the third chapter and putting down my thoughts for the rest of the story...oops...

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STAR Laboratories Los Angeles

9:52:03 PM PT

The Coffin

“Well, that can’t be good.” You mutter to yourself, yanking out the syringe with a hiss. When your soldier had yielded, you thought you could slip away from him. But his sudden fake-out had shifted both of your positions, creating a window for the Bat to shoot him. The bullet had come so close to your face, you had thought you could feel it brush past you and embed itself in the soldier’s exposed neck. 

The bullet could have just as easily grazed you, even killed you, had you been just an inch too close. 

You shifted your gaze to the figure in the red helmet. You hadn’t gotten the chance to examine them up close—they were tall and heavily built, even with armor on, and sported a weathered brown leather jacket that covered the huge red bat symbol emblazoned on their chest plate. “You’re Red Hood, right?” 

“That’s me.”

“What are you doing in LA? Aren’t you supposed to be from Gotham?” The Red Hood let out a modulated chuckle. You thought this would go down as your weirdest day on the job, making one of Gotham’s most ruthless crime fighters chuckle.

“I wanted to check out the warm weather here in Cali.” Something in Red Hood’s tone and posture shifted. “Now, what’s going on with that syringe?”

“Ah. Well, this was supposed to be a dose of a certain virus for the lab animals we’re testing on,” you explained.

“And this virus, it’s…”

“The Polestar virus,” you sighed. “Unearthed from somewhere deep in the Arctic, inside some early human mummies who carried the virus.” You let out a weak chuckle. “We knew it had the potential to be sold on the black market as a bioweapon should it fall into the wrong hands, but we weren’t aware that the risks were so high. And now, the virus is in my system.” 

“Are you feeling anything right now? What are the virus’s symptoms? What’s its incubation period?” His modulated voice was surprisingly soft, yet urgent.

“This virus is bad news. We found that it’s pretty fast acting, and…” You spared another glance at the syringe in your hand. “...the symptoms aren’t pretty.” 

“How fast?”

“This dose is meant for a test subject that’s a fraction of my body mass. I’ll be dead in two or three hours, give or take.”

“And the symptoms?” 

“Necrosis. A new kind that we haven’t named yet. The virus consumes soft tissue and leaves behind a metallic residue. We believe it’s because the virus leaches metals and minerals from the body and aggregates it, beginning with the extremities.” The Red Hood reached forward cautiously, as if he was afraid of startling you. He gently pulled back the fabric of your coveralls that the soldier had so unceremoniously ripped open and ghosted his gloved fingers over where the needle had once been. The blood vessels around the wound had already become blackened and distended.

“We have to get you to a hospital.” You shook your head.

“We can’t. This research isn’t public knowledge.” You hoisted yourself up, tucked in your coveralls, and adjusted your respirator like nothing had happened. “I’m already a target as it is.” You stepped over the black-clad form of one of the soldiers Red Hood felled.

“Are there any treatments?” You picked your way through the Coffin to the freezers.

“They’re still in development, but the vaccine should slow it down.” You punched some numbers into the keypad and put your index finger to the scanner on the door and the freezer doors eased open automatically. You strode over to the shelf where you had hurriedly stashed the vials and syringes, the glass and metal clouded from the cold. The vaccine was crystal pink, you realized, like the color of the phenolphthalein titration you had done back in high school. You had handled both the buret and the Erlenmeyer flask because Jason couldn’t get it right, and in return, he had done all of the calculations for the lab report. Turning over the vials in your hand, you wondered why you were reminiscing about Jason during this time. The thought made your heart squeeze a little bit. 

Jason Todd had been gone for so long. The hollowness that Jason’s absence had carved out of you seemed to sigh achingly. Years on, that hollowness was still there, not as hungry as it had been at first but smaller, still present. It still gnawed on your consciousness from time to time, on his birthday or on the day the Joker took him from you.

When you returned from the freezer, Red Hood was preparing a large metal-lined briefcase that he had taken from the incapacitated—dead?—men on the ground. He had already filled it partially with devices and weapons he had taken off of the soldiers.

“Are those the virus samples?” He inquired.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Vaccines, too. They’re labeled as such, and the vaccines are pink while the virus suspension is cl—”

“Pack them up. We have to get out of here before the police come.” His request startled you.

“Are you serious? This is property of STAR Labs and the CDC—”

“That’s been compromised. Neither you nor the samples are safe here. The police will be of no help, and they’re gonna keep sending people after you and those syringes unless we get you somewhere safe.” He gestured at the tray in your hands. “You need treatment, too. Somewhere they can’t find you.” You sighed heavily, setting the tray on a countertop.

“You’re right. I’m carrying the virus right now, and I’m dangerous. STAR Labs is probably gonna terminate me and the CDC will whisk me away or something. People come after me. But I can’t compromise the Polestar program.”

“It’s already been compromised. Now pack that shit up and let’s get out of here.” You flitted around the Coffin in search of something to store the samples in. You were scooping ice into a Styrofoam case when your comms unit fizzled to life again.

“This is the LAPD, we’ve been alerted of a break-in at STAR Labs. We request that all STAR Labs employees still in the building evacuate immediately. That is an order. Repeat, that is an order.” 

“Shit, we gotta go,” Red Hood muttered. You grabbed your comms and tucked the Styrofoam case awkwardly under your arm and followed him out of the Coffin and into the ruins of decon and aseptics—you had been in the Coffin for hours, and the sight of the wreckage and your coworkers in aseptics now slumped over their devices made your stomach drop. “No time for sightseeing. Hurry up.” You pushed yourself into a full sprint, stumbling in your PPE along the concrete and corrugated steel of the basement. You followed the Red Hood into the emergency stairwell. Peering through the glass of the door to the ground floor, you saw SWAT officers milling about.

“SWAT team, start sweeping the second floor.”

“Shit—” You and Red Hood hurried up the stairs, the contents in your arms rattling in its Styrofoam case.

“Guess we aren’t leaving that way. Know any other escape routes in this building?”

The top floor—your floor. The Polestar program’s home.

You didn’t want to know what kind of destruction the soldiers had left in their wake. 

“Top floor. Only way out would be the roof,” You answered.

“Roof it is.” After climbing some more flights of stairs and monitoring your comms unit for any more activity, you decided to wrench open the door to the sixth floor, breathing laboriously—when was the last time you had done this much cardio? You led the Red Hood over to a service elevator—not accessible without clearance, you explained to him—scanned your ID, and pulled him in. Once it reached the top floor, the elevator dinged and opened its doors, the hallway blessedly clear. You and Hood skulked down the corridor, which ended with the door to the Polestar offices. Hood opened the door and swept the room for hostiles before waving you in.

Your heart sank when you saw what had become of the Polestar lab.

“No…” you whispered. The laboratory had been completely wrecked. Glass fragments and papers were strewn on the floors. Pieces of equipment were left broken and overturned, spilling their contents among the mess.

Then you saw the bodies. 

You caught sight of Dr. Davis’s crumpled form on the floor, next to the comms he had used to warn you of the impending disaster. The comms unit looked like it had been crushed underfoot, exposing wiring and circuitry among shards of its outer plastic shell. You made a step towards Dr. Davis’s body, but froze when you saw the red stain on his back and the blood pooling onto the floor. 

“They…” You felt Hood’s gloved hand on your shoulder, gently guiding you away from the destruction. “...they killed everyone.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“This is…this is horrible. Unbelievable.” Your pulse quickened with your breath. You felt the tears begin to form, and your vision grew misty. “I can’t believe it. They killed everyone.” You thought you had known grief and death. But this was different—seeing your colleagues slaughtered, their blood drying before you, made you feel faint. And yet, you felt wholly ablaze with 

“Hey…” Shouts sounded from the stairwell. Your chest felt tight and your head was turning fuzzy. “...hey, hey. We gotta move.” The hand on your shoulder was not so gentle anymore, insistently pulling you toward the gaping hole in one of the windows. He handed—more like shoved—the briefcase he was holding into one of your hands and produced a terrifying-looking grapple gun from somewhere on his utility belt. “Don’t drop it,” was all he said before he wrapped an arm around your waist. Your arms instinctively flew around his shoulders, holding onto him, your Styrofoam box and his briefcase for dear life, and then you were airborne.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you soared over the street, which had become choked with squad cars and assault vehicles. You gasped in surprise when you felt yourself change direction as Hood gently and skillfully hoisted you over the ledge of a neighboring building’s rooftop.

“The first time is always the worst.”

“That’s implying that this isn’t the last,” You heaved out. “Holy shit. Did they see us?”

“Don’t think so. We’ll wait here, I’ll…” You didn’t hear the rest of the vigilante’s statement. The adrenaline from the jump was beginning to wane and you felt the burden of the virus and the sights you had stumbled upon while escaping the laboratory coming on again. 

“Hey." Red Hood moved to catch you as you slumped over. “Hey, can you hear me?” Illuminated by the city lights, he caught sight of your badge from where it hung on your PPE. Your name was printed in neat black font next to an unmistakable portrait. 

Under his helmet, the Red Hood’s breath caught in his chest.

“...Y/N?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: That's all I've got for now. Hope you enjoyed! x

Masterlist

Because I'm multi-fandom and a mess...

Find all of my fics here and on ao3!

Detroit: Become Human

Connor:

Connor x f!reader: Baby Fever

pt. 1: Prologue

pt. 2: Baby Fever

RK900:

RK900 x gn!reader: On the Scene

Gavin Reed:

Gavin x gn!reader: Obvious

Headcanons:

Connor, Nines, Markus, Simon, Gavin x gn! reader: Getting Your Wisdom Teeth Removed

DC

Jason Todd:

Jason Todd x f!reader: See You Again

ch. 1

ch.2

ch.3

ch.4

ch.5 coming soon!

masterlist

Star Wars

Captain Rex:

Captain Rex x gn!reader: Droid-Crusher

Commander Wolffe:

Commander Wolffe x f!reader: Thank You

Commander Wolffe x f!reader: One and Only

Commander Fox:

Commander Fox x gn!reader: Partners in Crime

See You Again: Masterlist

Jason Todd x f!reader

You were just a teenager when you lost your best friend, Jason Todd. Years later, your life is turned upside down, and you find your way back to him. He's changed. You've changed. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

Reader is a researcher at STAR Labs. She reunites with Jason, whom she thought had died years ago, after trying to keep a deadly virus out of the wrong hands goes awry.

Chapter 1: The Coffin

Chapter 2: Polestar

Chapter 3: Ten Years

Chapter 4: The Waynes

Chapter 5: coming soon!

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If you would like to join the taglist for this fic, drop an @ in the replies and I'll add you!

See You Again

Chapter 3: Ten Years

Jason Todd x f!reader

Red Hood takes you to the Cave for treatment.

[A/N]: I'm so glad I gave this chapter a once-over before publishing it. I think I hammered out all 3,900-ish words of this chapter almost exclusively between the hours of 11 PM and 2 AM. I swear, this fic has me in a chokehold. Anyways, the plot thickens...and we uncover more of Jason and MC's shared history! Happy reading :)

Warnings: none

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Somewhere over Missouri

1:21:44 AM CT

“Red Hood, do you wanna tell me why you requested access to a Wayne Enterprises hangar at an R&D facility outside of San Diego?”

“Oracle, I’m in a hurry to get back to the Batcave. I need Alfred or whoever’s in the Cave to prepare the medbay for a patient with a potentially infectious virus.” 

“Hood, what’s your status?” Batman’s voice replaced Oracle’s. His voice, stern as always, carried a twinge of worry.

“I have a civilian patient with me right now. They're a target; they need to be treated under the radar.”

“I’ll have Alfred prepare a bed.” 

“Tell him that Y/N L/N’s coming back.”

A pause.

“Will do, Hood.” This time it was Oracle’s voice. “And try not to crash the experimental supersonic shuttle you just commandeered.”

“No promises.”

Red Hood turned his seat to face where you lay unconscious, strapped to one of the benches in the hold meant for military personnel. The shuttle wasn’t built for transporting incapacitated patients like yourself, so he had to improvise—something that he wished he didn’t have to do. Hell, he wished more than anything that he could have reunited with you in a different situation, one where your life wasn’t on the line, one where he didn’t have to hide behind a mask. He simply wasn’t ready for you to see him like this, not after you had gone about your life thinking that Jason Todd had died in a warehouse in the snowy outskirts of Sarajevo.

After you had passed out, he had rushed you away from the scene of the break-in, which was swarming with LAPD and government personnel, and driven out of the city with you in the backseat of the car he’d borrowed from Roy for the operation, probably breaking a few traffic laws in the process. Once he’d driven out of city limits and reached the open road, he pulled over and all but flung the backseat door open, your Styrofoam case full of vaccines and samples in his hands. He opened the case and found a mess of ice, vials, and sterile packs of syringes inside, jumbled from all of the rooftop grappling and swinging the two of you had done. 

“Vaccines are pink, viruses are clear…” He muttered to himself, picking up one of the vials and examining them under the lone streetlamp he had parked under. The vial had been labeled with the total volume and the correct dosage of the vaccine. Your penmanship, he noticed, was unmistakable, even after all of the years that had passed. Unpackaging the syringe, he dispensed the correct volume of the vaccine, flicking the syringe to dispel any air bubbles, and gingerly parted the collar of your PPE. “Shit…” The blackened, distended veins had extended further across your clavicle, tendrils crawling up your neck and around your shoulders. Grimacing, he injected the vaccine into your shoulder, packed up, and kept driving, racking his brain for the fastest way to get to the one place where he knew you could be treated. 

Now, he watched you, caught in a fever dream. You were so close to slipping away from him just as your trajectories had crossed.

“I won’t let you die, Y/N.” He whispered. “Fight it. Please. ” I can’t lose you. Not when I just got you back.

Gotham Academy

Ten Years Ago

You tapped your pencil against the thick textbook as you contemplated your last practice problem. The clock beside your dorm room bed read half past eleven, and the only light in your room came from your desk lamp, which bathed everything in a warm glow.

You were about to reach for your calculator when you heard a knock against the windowpane. You turned your head towards the sound and nearly fell out of your chair at the sight of Jason Todd waving at you through the glass. 

“What—Jason?” You hissed, rushing to open the window. “Do you know what time it is?!” Outside your window, Jason was perched atop the slanted roof, lounging as if he were sitting on a sofa rather than aging shingles. “How the hell did you get up here? You know this is the top floor, right?”

“I know. Whatcha studying for?” He replied coolly, unfazed by your scolding.

“Physics,” You answered begrudgingly, keeping your voice low. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“Physics?” Jason echoed. “So, all you gotta know is F equals MA and that’s it, right?”

“Yeah, right.” You replied jokingly. “Seriously, how did you slip away from Mr. Wayne this time?”

“He’s out of state on some business trip. Right now, it’s just me and Alfred.” 

“And does Alfred know what you’re up to?”

“...maybe.” Jason chuckled quietly. “Man, if he knows I ran off, I’m a dead man.”

“Chances are, he already knows. Guess this is the last time I’ll see you, Jailbird. Better start planning your funeral.” Jason’s grin grew wider at the nickname.

“Jailbird?”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’ll be grounded the instant you get back to Wayne Manor.” You made a show of turning away from the window, only looking back to whisper, “Farewell, Jason. I fear I may never see you again.” A beat of silence passed, and then you both collapsed into laughter, which you quickly muffled lest you both be caught by a nosy roommate or RA. After your fit had abated, Jason grasped your wrist through the open window with a warm smile.

“Seriously, though. I just wanted to see you again.” You couldn’t see the pink tint that crept onto his cheeks in the low light. You laughed softly, placing your other hand on his.

“You are one weird kid, Jason Todd.”

“Says the person who’s taking college-level physics as a sophomore.” He fired back.

“Says the person who climbed onto the roof of the girls’ dorm just to see me. You’re lucky I didn’t holler the second I saw you.” You looked past him to peer down at the scenery below. “How are you gonna get down?”

“Dunno. Same way I came up.” He answered with a shrug. “If I fall and die, I want white roses at my funeral.”

“Don’t you dare, Jason.”

Eight months. 

Eight months later, you were standing before a freshly turned plot in the Wayne family cemetery, tears streaming down your face.

“I’m very sorry, Miss L/N.” Soothed Alfred, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you collapsed upon the grass before Jason’s headstone.

“You meant the world to him, Y/N. I’m sorry.” From your blurred periphery, you saw Mr. Wayne, who was always so tall, so imposing, so confident , kneeling beside you. With his drawn expression and hunched posture, he looked defeated. He looked like the weight of Jason’s death had crushed his soul into the ground.

“White roses,” was all you could choke out in between hiccups. “He said he wanted white roses.” 

You were only fourteen when he died, already a sophomore at Gotham Academy. It was the peak of exam season. Finals, projects, and presentations crept nearer and you were constantly bombarded with the pressure to perform—the ‘gifted kid’, the star student, Gotham Academy’s promising STEM scholarship recipient—but you couldn’t ignore the hole that Jason Todd left. The feeling seemed to burrow into you, eat away at you, until there was nothing left but you and your thoughts and the shoebox of a dorm room that Jason used to sneak out of Wayne Manor to visit. Staring up at the ceiling from where you lay in your bed, you wished more than anything to hear the sound of Jason gently rapping his bruised knuckles against your windowpane and to see his grinning face again. 

Now, you were ensnared in the memory of that September night when he first appeared outside of your dorm window. You were staring at the same physics problems again, eyes swimming. The clock still read half past eleven. But this body was yours, ten years older than you were that night. 

You heard tapping on the windowpane. 

“Jason…?” You whispered, inching closer to the window. Your heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t aged a day. Your fingers quickly found the latch, but when you hoisted up the windowpane, you didn’t see fifteen-year-old Jason reaching for your hand. 

“Y/N.” Jason’s voice had become deeper and rougher, and the sound sent shocks down your spine. He was taller and stronger now; his teenage body had filled out to create a solid, muscular physique. His facial features, now decorated with scars, were more angular and weathered, and his jet-black hair bore a shock of white. And yet, he was still Jason; you could not deny it. You saw it in his smile, in the crease of his eyes. “Time to wake up.”

The Batcave

3:08:16 AM ET

The beep of the bedside monitor pierced the tense silence of the Batcave medbay. 

“How long does she have left, Alfred?”

“We’re not sure, Master Jason. The vaccine seems to have stopped the progression of the disease, but there may be some unforeseen side effects.” Jason sucked in a breath. 

“We’re looking into the documents from the Polestar program,” Bruce supplied. “Oracle was able to access CDC and STAR Labs databases to extract any relevant knowledge they might have.”

“If it helps, Y/N and her team were very thorough with their documentation of the behavior of the virus in their test subjects,” Oracle remarked through the comms. “From what I can tell, they believe the virus to have extraterrestrial origins. The most recent version of the vaccine to go through animal trials seems to function primarily by genetically modifying the vaccine to stop attacking host tissue and coexist in the body without causing further harm.” Upon hearing Oracle’s analysis, Bruce hummed.

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“Trials have shown that a side effect of the vaccine is that test subjects maintain some kind of ferromagnetic property. The animals they were testing were fairly small, so the magnetism wasn’t strong, but the researchers at STAR Labs believe that the strength of magnetism is proportional to the bodily volume of the subject.”

“Magnetic, huh?” Bruce and Alfred left for the Batcomputer while Jason remained by your bedside. Your breathing was unhurried and uninterrupted, and your expression was peaceful. Your respirator was forgotten somewhere in Jason’s borrowed car, and he had helped Alfred peel you out of your coveralls and secure you in one of the beds in the Batcave’s medbay. Watching over you, he noticed how much you had changed in the ten years that you were apart—you had changed your hairstyle, which had become disheveled from your escape in LA, and it made you look more mature. The circles under your eyes had darkened over the years, no doubt from all of the late nights you had studied until exhaustion. He felt a pang of something deep and sentimental—was it nostalgia?—when he caught sight of your beauty marks, right where he remembered them.

Knowing that you were stable reassured him slightly. Still, he couldn’t imagine the battle your body was fighting against the Polestar virus.

Then, you stirred. The tempo of the bedside monitor’s beeps started to climb.

“No, wait—” Bruce and Alfred rushed through the sliding doors of the medbay. Your heart rate continued to climb. Jason stared in shock as he saw the blackened veins underneath your skin begin to recede. “What’s going on?”

“We’ll run a diagnostic. Oracle—” Bruce was tapping away at a terminal in the medbay, attempting to analyze your vitals. 

“Cave, there seems to be an unusual reading coming from your location.” Bewildered, Jason glanced around. His gaze settled on some medical instrument—a handheld scanner of some kind—quivering atop the medbay counter. 

“Could it be…magnetism?” He picked up the scanner and examined it. The body of the tool seemed to be made primarily of steel. He stepped closer to your bedside and felt the tug of magnetism in his hand as he held the scanner closer to you. 

“Oracle, you were right. I think this virus is turning Y/N magnetic.” Bruce muttered. More and more of the steel equipment in the medbay seemed to be experiencing your magnetic pull. Meanwhile, your heart rate kept rising; one hundred and twenty, one hundred and thirty, one hundred and forty—

“We have to wake her up somehow!” Jason exclaimed. The metal machinery and structures around you groaned, straining under the pull of your magnetic field. Jason himself, covered in armor and weaponry made with magnetic alloys, felt himself being dragged towards you until the railings of the bed dug into his stomach. “She’s gonna die if this doesn’t stop!” 

“I’m searching for a way, Hood, stand by.” One hundred and fifty, one hundred and sixty beats per minute—

“Jason…” The very room seemed to shake. Then, as if an invisible fist had just released its crushing grip on the room, everything shuddered to a stop. The magnetic pull on Jason was released and he stumbled away from the hospital bed, stunned. The beep of the bedside heart monitor began to slow. “Jason, is that you?” Jason’s helmet clattered to the ground.

“It’s me, Y/N. It’s really me.” Your eyes fluttered open, and they were wet with tears. Jason tore off his domino mask and reached out to caress your face, wiping the tears that rolled down your cheeks. “I’ve got you.”

“Jason!” You cried out, shooting up to throw your arms around his neck. “Jason, I thought you were dead!” 

“Y/N…” 

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!” You shouted, pushing him back suddenly. “Jason Peter Todd, where the FUCK have you been? I spent YEARS mourning you, grieving for a part of me that I would never get back, and—” Your words dissolved into sobs, and you let Jason take you into his arms. “A-and now you’re back…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I have a lot to explain.” 

“No, we have a lot to explain.” Bruce chimed in. “Y/N, I think you should know the truth about how Jason died.”

Wayne Manor

3:33:24 AM ET

Before he let Bruce and Jason explain everything to you, Alfred insisted on taking you up to the Manor to help you decompress and process events of the past few hours. When Alfred first pushed you out of the medbay in a wheelchair, you were astonished by the majestic sight of the Batcave—a place you thought to have existed only in urban myth. The very air seemed to hum with activity; you heard the distant chatter of various radio feeds; your skin was bathed in the cold glow of dozens of screens and electronics. The Bats’ job, it seemed, was never done. Twenty-four seven, there was always a threat to be addressed or a case to be investigated, and the Batcave was the beating heart, the nerve center, from which the Bats’ network emanated. You watched on with amazement, pride even, for the protectors of Gotham City—then, your blood ran cold as you considered what your presence in the Batcave implied about Jason and Bruce.

Sitting on the bed in a guest room on one of the upper floors of Wayne Manor, you rubbed your thumb along the rim of the glass of water in your hand. Your hands had become blackened by the virus, giving them a metallic sheen and feel. Thankfully, the vaccine seemed to have neutralized the virus; you no longer felt as if the virus was leaching out your vigor and the distended veins it had once pulsed through had just about returned to normal. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the nature of your extremities—your hands and legs were utterly transformed up until your elbows and knees. You flexed your fingers experimentally and rubbed the pads of your fingers together. Your skin wasn’t quite like quicksilver—rather, it was a mysterious fabric, maintaining the flexibility, elasticity, and grippiness of normal human skin while glittering with the strength and resilience of metal. You clapped your hands; they sounded normal. You set your glass on the bedside table and swiftly knocked your knuckles on your glass, and it sang as if you had struck it with the handle of a spoon. 

The sound of someone knocking on the bedroom door drew you away from your experiments. You sat up, gathering the covers over yourself. Alfred had kindly offered you a change of comfortable sleepwear in exchange for the clothes you had been wearing under your PPE. 

“Come in,” You called out. Bruce entered, Jason trailing him. He had showered and changed out of his Red Hood armor. To you, he looked more youthful, dressed in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. He was beginning to remind you more and more of his teenage self. 

“Y/N. Are you comfortable?” Bruce asked.

“Yes,” You replied calmly.

“Are your…hands bothering you at all?”

“Not at all, actually. I was trying some things out, and—” You repeated your tests for the two, clapping your hands and then rapping your knuckles on your glass. “—I’ve had some interesting results.”

“Fascinating,” Bruce replied. “We’ll have to examine those further in the morning.” He took a seat in the armchair next to your bed, while Jason sat down on the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress and pulling the sheets with him. 

“I understand if it’s difficult for you to accept that after all of these years, Jason is alive,” Bruce began. “But there are some things we didn’t tell you.” 

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that I was Robin,” Jason answered. 

“It’s true,” Bruce affirmed. “I was—I am Batman. And he was Robin, my protégé. It’s one of the reasons why I adopted him.” He and Jason watched your expression as it turned from surprise to quiet acceptance.

“I see,” You murmured. “And Jason was in Sarajevo that night because…”

“The Joker captured my birth mother. He coerced her into baiting me into this warehouse, and—” Seeing Jason tense up, you reached out tentatively to run your fingers over his clenched fist. His shoulders relaxed, and he covered your hand with his.

“I’m sorry, Jason. You didn’t deserve to be deceived like that.”

“The Joker beat Jason to death and detonated the warehouse with him in it,” Bruce continued, his voice taut. His expression shadowed the one you saw on him the first day you visited Jason’s grave. “Jason died that night; that much is true. But something happened. Somebody stole Jason’s body and replaced it with a double when I went to recover his remains from Bosnia. They resurrected him, and he found his way back to Gotham.”

“Who was it?” You inquired.

“Ra’s Al Ghul, the Demon’s Head. I spent a few years training under his daughter, Talia Al Ghul, before returning to Gotham.” Jason’s expression darkened. “I was a different person then. I did despicable things…I hurt people.” Your metallic skin felt cool under his hands as his grasp tightened. “Back at Gotham Academy, we used to talk about the ways we could help people when we grew up. I…I feel like I broke that promise, Y/N. I’m a criminal and a vigilante. There’s so much blood on my hands.” You opened your mouth but made no motion to speak as you processed Jason’s words.

“I don’t know what Ra’s and Talia did to you. But the fact that you’re still here, still you , still healing after everything that has happened…I know I’m still struggling to come to terms with you coming back and everything you did after the fact. But I want to make up for all of the time we’ve lost. I want to be here with you, now.” Your voice quivered a little as you fought back tears. Impulsively, you slipped your hands from his and put your arms around him. You felt him tense up for a moment before relaxing into your touch—you figured he wasn’t used to your arms around him after all this time.

“I’m going to give you two some space,” Bruce announced. “You both should get some sleep.” After Bruce had shut the door behind him, you met Jason’s gaze. 

“After you came back…did you ever look for me?” You asked him, wiping stray tears from your face with the back of your hand. The texture of your skin felt odd against your cheek.

“It wasn’t hard to find your name in the scientific journals.” Jason responded with a sigh. “After Bruce took me back, he told me what you’d done after I died.”

“He funded my education. I attended Yale on his foundation’s scholarship. He supported me through grad school, too.” 

“I guess I never got to say how proud of you I am.” A small smile made its way onto Jason’s face. “I’ve met so many so-called geniuses, heroes and villains and otherwise, but the truly brilliant ones didn’t settle for their perceived intelligence. I’ll always respect you for working so hard to prove that you were more than just your intellect.”

“You know, we never got to graduate high school together,” You murmured. “I wish we could’ve. I would’ve settled for the Yale commencement, or even UCLA. Graduating from Gotham Academy felt so different without you there with me.” You shook your head. “Well, I know it would’ve been a long shot, anyways.”

“I wanted to be there for all of your achievements, but…”

“But you were an internationally wanted criminal,” You finished.

“Y’know, I tried.” Jason chuckled. “I don’t think you noticed me, though.”

“Wait.” Your eyes widened. “Brussels. You were there?” Jason’s expression turned sheepish.

“Yeah. I dyed the white streak out of my hair and got a fake ID and everything. I wasn’t expecting you to recognize me.”

“I had no idea…” You breathed. “That was my first ever biotech conference. You went to see my presentation?”

“Yeah,” Jason grinned. “You were amazing.” 

“And to think I didn’t even realize it was you…” And to think I went back to my hotel room and cried myself to sleep, thinking that your image had never stopped haunting me. You yawned, feeling your energy waning after your eventful night. “It’s late…I’m tired.” You reclined back on the bed. Your exhausted body seemed to melt into the expensive mattress.

“Get some rest, Y/N. You’ve had a long night.” Jason stood, but in a flash of panic and desperation, you caught his wrist and held on as if he was about to disappear into smoke.

“How about…could you just stay with me? Please?” Jason flushed an unexpected hue of pink. You quickly let go of him, feeling your face heat up to an equivalent shade. “I–I mean…you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

“No, I, uh—” Jason fumbled with his words. “It’s okay. I’ll stay.” He flicked off the overhead light and returned to your bedside. Sighing contentedly, you sunk further into the mattress, which dipped under Jason’s weight as he climbed onto the bed beside you.

“The last time we did this we were in tenth grade,” You whispered. “We went ice skating in downtown Gotham and then I slept over at the Manor.”

“Y’know, Bruce let me skip patrol that night so I could go ice skating with you.”

“Oh, yeah? We were out until the skating rink closed. And we were in separate rooms in the Manor, but I came over to yours because I said mine was cold,” You added. “I lied about it being drafty.”

“I knew it. You were just bored.”

“I knew you knew, Jason. If you hadn’t wanted me there, you would have called for Alfred.”

“Okay, you got me. Just go to sleep.”

“Right away, sir.” You giggled into your pillow. “Goodnight, Jason Todd.” He chuckled softly, a low rumble that struck you right in your aching, mending heart.

“Goodnight.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: aaaa hope you guys enjoyed this new chapter! I'm a little worried that it's too OC-ish for a reader insert - I had a lot of fun designing the MC's backstory since it's such a big part of her relationship with Jason. Yes, MC is a sort of STEM prodigy (which can mean a lot in the DC sense, but in this case, she's just really good at science trust me bro). I fussed a lot over continuity and age gaps (eek!) and ended up settling with Jason having skipped a grade and MC having skipped two so that they were 15 and 14 respectively and in their sophomore year when Jason died. That way, MC would graduate high school at 16 and college at 20 (I originally wrote her going to Gotham U but then switched it to Yale, which in certain comic continuities, is Bruce's alma mater, and also because I worried that Gotham U or another Gotham university would have too much of a reputation for producing PhDs who became deranged Batman rogues) and earn her UCLA doctorate (bc STAR Labs' infectious diseases lab is in LA for some reason, thanks fandom wiki) at the astonishing age of 24 (or 25). That leaves time for a few months of work on the Polestar program straight out of grad school and for Jason to train/be brainwashed by the League of Shadows, become Red Hood, and do a bunch of other stuff first (like form the Outlaws). I worried that Jason and MC being 27-28 or older just wouldn't jive with the story or the relative ages of other characters, like Bruce or Dick. It doesn't help that Jason is apparently canonically 19 in the Wayne Family Adventures webcomic (have you even seen him in that comic?! That man is 21 at least. No way he's under twenty years of age...or maybe I'm just a terrible judge of biological age). Thanks for putting up with my deranged rambling! This was a pretty dialogue heavy chapter, which I'm not really used to writing. That being said, I hope you enjoyed reading, until next time! x

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See You Again taglist:

@witchymomfrien

If you would like to join the taglist for this fic, @ me in the replies!

See You Again

Chapter 4: The Waynes

Jason Todd x f!reader

You meet (some of) the Waynes. Things start to get complicated in more ways than one, but you’ll figure something out eventually…right?

[A/N]: AEEOEOEEEUUUGHHHH I'M SO SORRY EVERYONE I'VE BEEN GONE FOR LIKE TWO MONTHS 😩 I guess you guys have seen all manners of excuses by now but I was definitely agonizing over the dialogue for each character. I wanted to showcase all the ~funny stuff~ that's happened to the reader as a side effect of this silly little virus and introduce some conflict between Jason and the reader because a reunion like this can't be all sunshine and rainbows and happy tears. There's got to be sad and angry tears and awkward moments, too (I mean, it's not every day that someone you used to know comes back from the dead, right? And then you discover that they and their whole family are the most notorious vigilantes in your home city...anyways). It doesn't help that I've been pretty busy with other things over the past few weeks. So sorry for the wait and I hope you guys like this chapter!

Warnings: a little profanity

read here on ao3 (tbh I recommend it because this chapter's like 4.8k words)

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masterlist

The Batcave

5:45:03 AM ET

True to its name, the Batcave was damp and bone-chillingly cold. 

Tim knew that it was probably because the Cave’s sensitive electronics and weaponry benefited from cooler environments and that the damp was unavoidable in the enormous cave system, but he liked to think that Bruce kept it that way because it made him feel like he was really the ‘Bat’ in ‘Batman’. 

At least the Batcave didn’t smell of guano.

The cold light of the Batcomputer burned into his tired eyes as he sifted through the computer’s files on the Batfamily’s special guest. He found scholarly articles, a few brief reports from news outlets in your hometown, and of course, the media firestorm that had just begun to pick up speed. 

“Still awake?” Tim felt a firm hand on his shoulder—Bruce’s—but made no move to meet the Bat’s gaze. “Your patrol shift ended hours ago.”

“I know,” Tim replied, fingers flying across the Batcomputer’s keyboard. He knew all of Bruce’s hotkeys and had also programmed his own to expedite his surfing through the supercomputer’s expansive resources. “It’s just…I got curious about our new case.” Standing behind Tim’s chair, Bruce hummed. 

“Yes, well…” He eased his strong but aging body into the chair next to Tim’s with a sigh. “...it is a little more personal this time.” 

“Oh, yeah? Do you know Dr. L/N?” 

“I’ve known her since she was in the seventh grade,” Bruce answered. “She and Jason met when I enrolled him in Gotham Academy. She was there on an academic scholarship—Y/N was very bright, and young for her class. Jason grew very attached to her during that time. From what I understand, she gave him a sense of normalcy in his life and kept him company when he felt isolated from their other classmates.

She took Jason’s loss very hard. Alfred and I did our best to support her, especially since Jason had died during a critical period in her academic career. She’d gained a reputation for her academics and research projects while she was a student at the Academy. There were a lot of eyes on her. She experienced significant pressure to perform. 

Jason’s death made me feel a responsibility to do right by Y/N. I opened the Manor’s doors to her, as well as my connections to Gotham’s academic circles. I helped pay for her tuition when she went to Yale, and then her doctorate at the University of California in Los Angeles. And so…having her here is another way I want to support her, for Jason’s sake.”

“I saw what happened to her. I was just getting off patrol when Jason brought her in. IT looks like he cares for her a lot…I’ve never seen him act like that.” Tim paused. The clicking of the Batcomputer’s keyboard and the white noise of the Cave’s machinery filled the air as the pair fell into a comfortable silence. Finally, Tim spoke. “How much do we know about Y/N’s case?”

“Ah, the Polestar virus. It seems like her vaccine, which was still in an early phase of testing, neutralized the virus in a way that allows it to live within the tissues without consuming it.”

“This is so niche,” Tim muttered as he read your file. “Information almost exclusive to the CDC, STAR Labs, and…the Public Health Agency of Canada?” Tim was used to being puzzled by cases with limited information. This one in particular intrigued him. “What’s Canada got to do with this case?”

“The Polestar virus was discovered by a joint US-Canada expedition into the Arctic,” Bruce answered. He reached over to type in a series of commands into the Batcomputer, which summoned a file window containing an internal government write-up about the expedition. In it were photos taken by the researchers of the remains, mummified by the ice, of three ancient humans, whose hair and nails had remained intact after millennia beneath the ice. One of the mummies—a small girl—displayed peculiar metallic spots, especially on the extremities, which the researchers noted. 

“The mummies have been exhumed from the ice and are currently being held in Canada,” Bruce read off the file. “There’s also a write-up from Canadian anthropologists about the tattoos on the bodies. Traces of the virus were found in the girl’s body, but the samples STAR Labs works with were extracted from an ice core they took from the site.” 

“Do we know why there were humans in the Arctic, thousands of years ago?” Tim asked, incredulous. “That sounds…improbable. But then…we’ve seen weirder things, haven’t we?”

“Precisely. What happened to the media coverage?”  Restings his elbows against the Batcomputer, Tim ran his hands down his face, blinking a few times to stay awake. 

“A break-in at STAR Labs is always troubling news,” Tim replied. “Anchors and analysts are beginning to speculate about the political premises of the situation, but the government’s kept quiet about the details. No one knows what’s been taken or why the break-in happened.”

“So rumors are flying.”

“They’ll die down once people realize the government isn’t going to let slip what happened. You never know what journalists might find, though. They’ve already confirmed independently that all of the surviving staff have been accounted for…except for one missing researcher.” Bruce’s eyebrows shot up.

“Interesting.”

“It might be best for Y/N’s safety if we cooked up a story about an abduction,” Tim commented as he browsed the growing collection of Polestar files. “We should find out who broke in and why they wanted to obtain the Polestar virus.” Tim’s hands stilled over the keyboard. “I wonder what’s so important about this virus. What do they know that we don’t? Why is it so important that it doesn’t leave the government’s hands?”

“Y/N almost gave her life to protect the security of this virus. I suspect she knows something we don’t.”

“She could be protecting something whose potential she doesn’t even know. Someone’s definitely out to get this virus, and she could get caught up in the meantime.” Something flashed in Bruce’s eyes. 

“Even if STAR Labs withheld that information from her, she’d find a way to get it out of them,” Bruce murmured. “She wouldn’t be satisfied with being kept in the dark. She’s relentless. That’s something…”

“I think you see a little bit of yourself in her. Is that why you stuck by her all this time?” Tim prodded in a teasing tone, which earned a small huff out of Bruce.

“Perhaps.” 

You slept deeply and without stirring. To any outside observer, you looked serene. Unbeknownst to them, though, you were caught, body and consciousness, in a bizarre dream. 

You stood under stormy skies, on a set of steps that seemed to reach for the heavens and stretch towards infinity. You could feel the cracks and imperfections of the rough stone beneath your feet; they felt as if they were worn by the beats of hundreds of footsteps that had come before you. You could feel the coming storm in the air and the wind whipped against your skin. You looked down at your hands, still blackened and stained like they were covered in burnished iron, and flexed them experimentally, astonished by your dexterity and control over your body in what you knew to be a dream.

Free me.

Your head snapped upwards. Those words kept echoing through your head, in the way that voices in dreams did, not quite heard as waves rippling through the air but also not completely within the confines of your mind’s realm. 

You stumbled up the steps. The stones dug into the soles of your bare feet. You could feel a pull leading you farther up the steps, as if you were magnetized. With every step, that magnetism became exceedingly strong; what was at first a tug that was barely there started to feel like a harsh hand dragging you. Your arms and legs grew heavier, as if weights had been strapped to your wrists and ankles, and when the burden became unbearable you collapsed on the steps, the worn edges of each stone step scraping your exposed skin. 

Grunting, you willed yourself to lift one hand, and with significant effort, the other. You could still feel the invisible power pulling your chest into the ground. When you finally raised your head, you saw Jason, as he was months before his death, standing before you on the steps. 

“Jason…” You forced through gritted teeth. To your horror, when you blinked again, that image of Jason disappeared, replaced by a crumpled form on the stone steps before you. “Jason!” You cried out. Panic flooded your body, propelling you to crawl up the steps toward where he lay. Slowly, agonizingly, you gripped his shoulder and turned him over. Your eyes widened when you saw his clear blue eyes framed by a tattered domino mask. 

It was then that you realized that he was dressed in the Robin suit you had seen in photos and blurry vigilante-chasing videos while you were in high school. Your panic and desperation peaked when you saw how his body was broken and bloodied, fresh bruises blooming all over his youthful face and the skin exposed by the tears in the Robin costume. 

“Help…me…” He croaked out, and you felt your heart split. 

“Jason, stay with me, please,” You rasped, clutching his bare hand, his gloves lost in a melee you never knew he’d fought in. You could feel the sticky, congealed blood—was it his? Or someone else’s?—coating his palm and seeping into every groove and crevice in his skin. 

Free me. 

The voice returned, compelling you to turn your gaze skywards. At the top of the stairs, which you once thought had no end, was a purple glow.

Free me!

The voice seemed to echo from there, the owner of the voice still obscured from where you were sprawled.

“Please, I can’t let you go…please…” You begged. Jason’s grip on your hand waned as your grip on his tightened. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as you screamed,

“JASON!”

Wayne Manor

10:48:39 AM ET

“JASON!” You cried out. Your arms shot forward, outstretched, and you pitched forward into a sitting position. The covers were disheveled and your pillow was on the floor. 

A strong grip caught your flailing arms as you reached out desperately, breathing heavily as your heart hammered in your chest. 

“Easy now, I’ve got you,” Jason’s warm, deep voice soothed you as he let go of your wrists to pull you closer into his arms. Your shoulders shook as he ran a comforting palm up and down your shoulder blades, yet your heart refused to slow as the world came back into focus. 

When you finally pulled back from the embrace, your heart was still thumping wildly. Pinpricks of heat rose in your cheeks and tinting your ears. 

“Jason, you…actually stayed for the whole night?” Now it was Jason’s turn to flush with embarrassment. “I thought you would…”

“Leave?” Jason interrupted. “I slept like a rock.” Truthfully, it had taken Jason at least an hour to tune out the feeling of liquid fire coursing in his veins when he lay next to you. He shifted his gaze to the bedside table, where the vintage clock read 10:48. At the base of the clock was a handwritten note in Bruce’s script.

Sleep in. BB is covering your routes. Come see me after breakfast.

—B.

Jason cracked a small half-smile at the slip of paper. He made a mental note to bring Cass some takeout the next time they went on patrol together as thanks.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words died on your tongue when Jason’s gaze returned to yours.

Odd, you thought. You thought his eyes were blue, not green.

“Are you hungry?” 

“I’m starving,” You answered. You hadn’t eaten since your lunch break back at STAR Labs, nearly twenty-four hours earlier. You’d elected to skip dinner that night so you could spend an extra-long session running tests in the Coffin, but of course, things just had to go awry.

“Come on, then,” Jason got off the bed—he’d slept on the covers, you noticed—and offered you a hand. “I’m sure Alfred’s prepared something good.”

You followed Jason out of the bedroom and down the long corridors, reaching the Manor’s grand staircase where the late morning sun was already filtering through the windows. Their curtains had been drawn by a single, faithful butler every morning without fail.

“Hey, is everything alright? I heard screaming and—wait a second!” You caught sight of a blonde stopped in her tracks at the foot of the stairs, dressed in what looked like a purple stealth suit with a flowing cape and hood. “Jason, who the hell is she?” She called out, gaping at you both.

“Steph—” Jason began, but she cut him off. 

“Oh, shit, I’m still in my gear! U-uh, don’t worry, I’m just a really dedicated cosplayer—”

“Steph, it’s okay!” Jason exclaimed. “She knows. It’s all good.”

“Oh, in that case, I’m Stephanie. I just got back from patrol, so I’m gonna go shower and I’ll join you guys for breakfast. Or is it brunch?”

“Nice to meet you, Stephanie,” You replied weakly, still wondering what Stephanie had to do with the Waynes—or the Bats. With an exasperated sigh that had no real aggression behind it, Jason led you down the stairs and into Wayne Manor’s bright and airy kitchen. The counters and cabinets were spotless and the enormous stove showed signs of frequent use but also careful maintenance. Freshly cleaned pots hung over the kitchen island where an astonishing breakfast spread was displayed.

“Sometimes I forget you guys are richer than God,” You whispered. “That looks like a week’s worth of my groceries.”

“Probably costs as much,” Jason whispered back. “Definitely took a while to get used to after growing up on Park Row.”

“We feed a large family here at Wayne Manor, Miss L/N.” Alfred materialized in the doorway, putting away a cloth he had been using to polish some silverware. “Please, help yourself.” You grinned as you set about putting together your breakfast, chasing away the stomach pangs with big bites of food.

“What did we do to deserve you, Alfred?”

“I ask myself that every day,” He replied dryly. “Enjoy, Miss L/N, Master Jason.” Alfred disappeared into the mansion, off to perform some obscure chore or aid the Bats with their operations. 

Your focus returned to the ghost sitting across from you. 

“So…what happened last night?” Jason asked. “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Something like that,” You mumbled, gluing your eyes to your breakfast plate. You didn’t dare mention that you saw him, right before his death, even though you had never witnessed it happen. “Probably a side effect of the infection.”

“What happened?” Jason asked, brows raised. “I thought the infection was done with. What did you see?” Your brow furrowed.

“Jason, why do you want to know so badly?” You replied defensively. In your peripheral vision, you could see Jason tense subtly. “I had a nightmare. I don’t remember what happened, only that I was scared and I panicked.”

Jason’s fork and knife rattled on the china.

“You’re lying.” 

“So what if I am?” The hostility in your voice rose. “What happened last night is the least of my problems right now. I don’t want to talk about it.” Jason’s stool scraped against the kitchen’s immaculate floors.

“Fine then. Keep it to yourself,” Jason stalked out of the kitchen. You stood up swiftly, disturbing some of the dishes on the countertop. 

“What—Jason, where are you going?” You shouted frustratedly at his retreating form. He didn’t turn around. You sat back down and put your head in your hands, feeling the turmoil grow inside of you. The emptiness Jason’s loss had created in your heart yawned, threatening to collapse like a sinkhole.

“I hate to intrude, but—.” You raised your gaze from behind your palms to see Stephanie, dressed in flannel bottoms and a Gotham University sweater. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I just…forget it,” You sighed. “I don’t want to keep you from your breakfast.” At that, Stephanie filled her plate and took a seat next to Jason’s forgotten breakfast. “Did you see where Jason went?”

“He probably went off to the Batcave,” Stephanie replied. “You’ve been there, right?” You nodded.

“It was the first place he took me after I got here.”

“Where are you from?” 

“Los Angeles, but I’m originally from Gotham. I grew up and went to school here.” Stephanie raised her brows.

“Is that how you met Jason?” You nodded again. “Huh. I guess that’s why we never met.”

“Are you part of the Wayne family?” 

“What? No, I’m not a Wayne. I’m just…it’s complicated.” Stephanie laughed lightly. “My name is Stephanie Brown, but you can call me Steph. I used to date Tim, y’know, one of the Wayne kids. Keyword, used to. Now, I just work with the Waynes.” Something clicked in your head.

“I haven’t told you my name; I’m Y/N L/N, by the way. Do you work with the Bats under the alias of Spoiler?”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Yeah, I’m Spoiler. Do you follow Gotham vigilante news or something?” 

“Sort of. I live and work in LA now, but I like to keep tabs on what’s going on in Gotham. Most of the stuff that comes my way ends up being updates on Batman and other vigilantes.” 

“Then…whoa, what happened to your hands?” A grin broke onto your face as Steph’s eyes widened. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice earlier,” You replied. “This is why I’m here.” 

“What the hell?” She stood up, rounding the kitchen island to inspect your skin. “What happened to you?”

“What the hell is an understatement,” You joked. “Long story short, I got sick. I got treated here at the Cave, but it left…some lasting effects.” 

“Do I even wanna know?”

“It’s so weird! My hands are like metal, but not. They feel normal, but I think they have the strength and properties of metal.” To demonstrate, you walked over to Steph’s almost-empty glass of orange juice and knocked your knuckles against the glass. 

“Wow,” Steph breathed. “Duke’s gonna be so stoked that there’s another meta at the Manor.”

“Who’s Duke?” You inquired.

“Another Wayne kid, Duke Thomas. Bruce took him in not too long ago. He works the day shift, so he’ll be back later today.” 

“Wow, Bruce has been busy collecting strays since I’ve been gone, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Steph laughed. “So, how did you get to know the Wayne family?”

“I met Jason in middle school, at Gotham Academy,” You answered. “I studied there on a STEM scholarship funded by Kane Industries. Jason and I became friends, I came over to the Manor a few times and met Mr.—I mean, Bruce. After Jason died, he paid for me to go to college and grad school.” You smiled sadly at the memory of finding a letter outside your dorm room in Bruce’s script. It was late in April of your senior year, just a few days before you were due to commit to your college of choice—and just a few days before the anniversary of Jason’s passing.

“Wow, I had no idea you went way back with the Waynes,”

“So do you, right?” You replied. “I guess we’re both, you know…bystanders to everything the Waynes have done.”

“I’d say we’re both victims of the Wayne drama. Us and Babs and probably Cass, too.” You laughed lightly, trying to mask your unease as the memory of Jason storming out of the kitchen came crashing back.

“Who’s Cass? And who’s Babs?” 

“If you’re gonna stick around the Manor, you’ll meet them eventually.” Steph collected your empty plate and her own and dropped them in the sink with the silverware and glasses. 

“Wait, let me—” Steph raised her hand, stopping you.

“It’s better if you didn’t. Alfred would never allow a guest to do the dishes in his house.” Grabbing your wrist, Steph led you out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into Bruce’s study.

“Are you taking me back into the Cave?” You asked. 

“If I’m right, Jason is down there with Bruce right now. And if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll apologize to you.” Steph turned the clock hands and the front of the clock swung open to reveal a staircase. “Come on in.”

The Batcave

11:10:44 ET

“So, what do you think?”

“I think this equipment was distributed underground, Jason,” Bruce replied. “Whoever was running this operation knew what they were getting into. But that’s not what I want to focus on right now, because we can’t figure out anything if you don’t calm down first.”

“The fuck do you mean?” Jason bristled. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You might think I’m a bad father, but don’t think I can’t tell when you’re frustrated.” Bruce leaned in over the table covered in illegally-traded weaponry and equipment Jason had taken back from the Los Angeles break-in. “Tell me, Jason. What’s on your mind?”

“Why do you care now, of all times?”

“Because something’s clearly bothering you. I’m doing this because I want you in the best possible state of mind, for the sake of everybody, including yourself.”

“You can just say that you think I’m unstable, Bruce.” 

“Just tell me, please. I want to help you fix whatever is bothering you.”

“Jason?” Jason’s eyes flitted up to a platform carved out of the formations of the Batcave. There, he spotted you and Steph.

“Y/N? Steph?” He called out. “What’s going on?”

“Jason,” You repeated, descending the steps to where he and Bruce stood. “I don’t—I can’t—I’m—” You stammered, struggling to translate your thoughts into speech. You started to fidget, not knowing where to place your hands or your gaze. “I’m sorry I was so defensive earlier. What happened last night was hard to process. I hope you can understand that Iwasn’tcomfortablenoughtotalkaboutitwithyouand—” You rambled, inhaling sharply. “—andI’msorryifImadeyoumad—”

“Y/N.” Bruce cut you off. “Breathe.” 

“I—” Jason sighed deeply, running a hand down his face and grimacing. “Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault I got mad.” 

“I feel like I’m thirteen again,” You complained. “I don’t know what to say.”

“If you’re thirteen, I must be ten. I shouldn’t have walked out on you. That’s the last thing you needed right then. I’m sorry.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen Jason apologize like that,” Steph whispered to Tim, who had floated over from the Batcomputer when you’d arrived. “Like, that’s totally different.”

“I know,” Tim hissed back. “They definitely have history.”

“Like…history?” 

“Still,” Jason pulled a swivel chair away from a nearby terminal and sat down. Nervously, you took a seat across from him. “Will you tell me what happened? All I want is to make sure you’re okay.”

“It’s complicated.”

“That’s okay. Shit, when is anything not complicated?” Jason shifted his arm, as if to reach for yours, but at the last second his arm fell away to rest on the workstation you were sitting next to. “Take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” 

The Batcave

12:34:08 PM ET

“That’s all I know about the virus. I’ve only been on the team for a few months and the project’s fairly new. I was already crossing a line when I tried to investigate its origins and behavior even further on my own.”

“Still, it helps us figure out who might be interested in it, or why it’s been kept on the down low,” Said Tim Drake, spinning around in the chair in front of the Batcomputer. He looked to be no more than six years younger than you—twenty, maybe twenty-one. His eyes were tired, as if he had been awake all night, but analytical. You could see that behind them, his mind was constantly chugging away, considering different approaches and theories. You understood the feeling—of always contemplating something; of being in constant, restless motion and never being able to stop. “Oracle and Jason are doing their best to trace who sent those guys. Is there anything else that you don’t know that we could try and find?” 

“STAR Labs has my work phone and my work computer, but…I kept all of my personal observations from my tests in a lab notebook that I kept at home. Maybe it would help if we had whatever data I managed to record in my notebook. If there’s anything else, it’ll be at STAR Labs, but I don’t think it would be a good idea for any of us to revisit that place now that it’s been…compromised.” You replied uneasily. “Speaking of which, the authorities still think I’m missing.” You raised your hands to show Tim. “And if I turn up again, they’re definitely gonna notice this.” 

“Yeah, we’re gonna have to finesse this. When you inevitably reappear, we can cover up your skin easy enough,” Tim mused. “And we can definitely get a hold of your notebook. What else has changed?”

“Bruce and Jason told me I’m magnetic now.” Tim cocked an eyebrow.

“Huh…maybe it’s time to run a few tests.”

The Batcave

1:15:56 PM ET

An MRI, a blood test, and many, many fridge magnets later, you and Tim had reached a (potentially publishable) conclusion. 

“So you are magnetic,” Said Tim. “Like, on-and-off, ‘cause this MRI is unreadable because of all the interference but it’s not like every piece of metal you walk by sticks to you.”

“Unless I really concentrate,” You added. “It’s like using the Force. Or whatever Magneto does.”

“It’s like you’re Dr. Polaris or something.” Tim muttered.

“What? Who’s that?” 

“Oh, sorry. He’s some Green Lantern villain.”

“You know Green Lantern?” You blinked owlishly at Tim.

“It’s a long story.” He sighed.

“Okay, you nerds,” Steph appeared beside you, holding what looked like pieces of body armor from her Spoiler suit. “Time for some field testing.” You followed her to the side of the Batcave where an array of training apparatuses had been set up—punching bags, weight racks and machines, life-size dummies, the works. 

“Field testing?” You echoed.

“Yup.” Falling into a fighting stance, Steph strapped on a blocking pad meant for sparring and held it in front of you. “Punch it, not me, to be clear.”

“ Punch it?” You said incredulously. “I don’t…I’ve never…” You faltered. 

“Don’t worry! Chances are, you won’t hurt me. This stuff’s built to withstand a lot. I’m already wearing my gauntlets, too.” You made a face and wound up, landing the punch half-heartedly on the cushioned, reinforced material. 

“That all you got? Punch it, hard as you can.” 

“Okay,” You replied uneasily. “Here goes.” You drew your fist back again and swung with all your might, and yelped when the impact produced a louder sound that you’d expected and made Steph stumble back.

“Y/N? You okay?” Jason called out from where he and Bruce were communicating with Oracle, who was stationed at the Belfry.

“Y/N? Why isn’t anyone asking if I’m okay?!” Steph argued, tossing aside the blocking pad. “Holy shit! I was not prepared for that. Not the first time I’ve been punched by a super. You never get used to the feeling, though.” 

“I…I had no idea I could do that.”

“Are you kidding? You’ve got fists of steel…literally. That virus definitely did something to you.” 

“We’ll know more once I get a biopsy and more scans. In the meantime, maybe try the punching bag instead of Steph.” Tim remarked, walking over to you and Steph. 

“Wait, try this first,” Steph hurried over to a corner of the Cave and returned with a piece of wood. You suspected it to be part of a crate. 

“She’s not some black belt martial arts master…” Tim grinned mischievously. “...hit it as hard as you can.” 

From across the cave, the sound of splintering wood made Bruce and Jason jump. 

“Holy shit!” You yelled.

“Are you okay? Do you have any splinters?!” Steph exclaimed, holding the crate lid, now split into two jagged pieces where you tried to smack-slash-karate-chop it. Tim grabbed one piece and raised it as if to smash it over your still-outstretched fist, and you held your hand still, bewildered. Upon impact, the wood was reduced to smithereens, only a small piece left in Tim’s hands. You had barely felt the impact on your hand.

“No! Yes! I mean, no! No, my hand’s fine!” You stared at your hand, all shiny and discolored, with wonder. “What the hell is wrong with me?” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tim approaching with a sheet of metal. “Oh, don’t you fucking dare … ”

~~~~~~~~~~I REALLY NEED A BETTER DIVIDER HELP~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason, walking past Y/N, Tim, and Steph: …what are you guys doing? Y/N, covered in fridge magnets: *peels off a magnet saying “I Beat The Riddler And All I Got Was This Stupid Magnet”* Y/N: Um…scientific experimentation?

[A/N]: LOL the ending of this chapter is so unserious I swear, I couldn't have pulled this off without all of the kind comments and support. Yall are amazing ♥️ Thanks again for reading! x

~~~~~~~~I MEAN IT THIS LOOKS SO WEIRD ON MOBILE~~~~~~~~~~

See You Again taglist:

@witchymomfrien

If you would like to join the taglist for this fic, let me know in the replies!

When you're an emotionally-constipated vigilante and your big brother knows exactly what's going on before you do.

For all his scars, Jason truly couldn’t understand how you were so adamant on calling him beautiful every day without fail.

You have been together for years, enough for him to note that you aren’t one to drop words without feeling them, however for all his brain capacity, he still couldn’t wrap his head around you looking at him; nasty J scar on almost the entirety of his left cheek or every other jagged line of terribly healed wounds gained over the years; holding his face between your hands as if he was made of glass before speaking the same set of words as every day of the last few years.

“You’re beautiful, Jason”.

He liked to think that after coming back from death and all the shit he has gone through since forever, there is a very small list of things that are still capable of surprising him but there you were, at the very top with your kind words; specially those. He sees himself in the mirror every morning before getting into the shower, there are days when the pain creeps up his back like a ghost summoned by those scars and in those instances he has to look away to avoid puking.

Then why? Why were you so hell bent on telling him that lie? Sure, he knew you didn’t consider it to be a lie per se or else you’d never say it; always honest to a fault; but how? You were the most amazing person he’d ever encountered, you were perfect in every way; fitting like a puzzle piece in his arms; so how could you in all your perfection, look at him and call him beautiful? Not handsome, beautiful. How could you choose such a word that would only begin to describe you, you were the beautiful one in his eyes, so why were you so generous by giving him a compliment that should only ever be used to describe the likes of you and not him; never a monster like him.

You on your part knew, you noticed every time how his eyes would open up just a millimeter in surprise to your words, nevermind that you had been saying them to his face for the last two years, but you couldn’t help it, he really was beautiful, those pretty green eyes full of fire and wit, a strong built that revealed him as a fighter, those scars that told a story of struggle unlike any other but that still weren’t enough to keep him down proving himself a true survivor and all that without mentioning how despite the way he went about delivering justice he had a good heart; you were well aware of the orphans he took care of and he was always so sweet to you.

He was beautiful, you just wished he could come to see it one day, but in the meantime you had no qualms on repeating it to him, maybe after a while of hearing it he’ll learn to believe it.

Do you mind doing a yandere Jason Todd with a reader who is kinda insecure about herself and thinks she isn't good enough for a relationship and that no one could ever love her? Btw, I love your work and thanks for sending me that request again, a real honor :)

Thank you for sending this request, and thank you so much for all your support. I love your work as well and thank you for doing my request, it was amazing!

Warnings: Mentions of Verbal Abuse, Angst

It is dark because I am giving background for the “no one could ever love her”.

I was somewhat stuck on what to write so hopefully you guys like it.

Flashback

“You can’t do anything right! Look at this!” Y/N’s foster dad yelled as he pointed to a single dirt spot on the floor he had made when coming into the house.

“But-“ she tried to cut in and defend herself but she got a glare that would shut anyone up.

“No buts! How are you to expect and man to love you if you keep having screw ups like this? Huh?! Answer me.”

“I clean it right away.” She said while struggling to hold her tears back.

“You better.” He growled out before leaving her in the living room with a bucket and mop.

Flashback Over

“Y/N!” She heard from behind her and she sighed quietly to herself when she recognized the voice of the boy who had been asking her out for months.

She was debating on running away, or staying where she was and would have to reject him again which resulted in jealous girls bullying her.

She chose the first option. Y/N ran down the sidewalk and quickly ran towards the direction to her home, she began to make it to an alley when she was lightly grabbed from behind and brought into the alley.

Y/N gasped in surprised and struggled against the wall she was being held to.

“Y/N! It’s okay It’s just me” Jason says as he held her against the wall but loosened his grip as she stopped struggling.

“Jason, why would you do that?” She spoke angrily as her heart was racing, it was Gotham who knows what could happen.

“I’m sorry, but you started running and then I tried catching up to you and then I panicked and yeah…” he explained looking somewhat guilty but it quickly disappeared.

“I wouldn’t have had to push her into the alley if she hadn’t ran.” He said inside his head, attempting to justify scaring her, but he looked down at the girl who was slightly glaring up at him with an adorable pout and was completely distracted.

“Y/N”

“No.”

“Will you.”

“I’m sorry no.” She spoke as she felt slightly bad for saying no so harshly but why would he keep asking out her? There were so many other, better girls.

“Go out on a…” Jason continued he knew she’d eventually say yes, but until she did he would continue asking her and attempt to make her fall for his charm. Of course he knew it wasn’t necessarily required for her to be completely in love with him before he decided to take the next step like the other Bats. Grayson had his “soulmate” as the bats called them, his fell in love with him as well so they were able to be a normal couple, other than Graysons possessive tendencies. Drake took his before they could fall in love, which resulted in many problems. Damian was still looking.

Y/N didn’t say no after him continuing on with his request so he quickly finished it and lightly grabbed her hand and held it to his lips.

“Date with me.” He spoke then kissed her hand while looking deeply into her eyes. Y/N just about melted on the spot as he lowered her hand but still held it in his.

All she could here was the shouts of her foster father who had told her day after day that no man would after date her, let alone love her. She just couldn’t understand why someone like Jason, the man everyone wanted and the son of a billionaire would want her. The girl who couldn’t do anything right.

She saw his eyes that looked like they were begging her to say yes and she was so close to saying yes before she said what was truly on her mind.

“Why would you want to date me of all people? You deserve someone you can help you and be there for you, and I- I can’t do anything right.” She repeated the words she heard so often as they were absorbed into her brain, playing like a broken record.

Jason looked at her in shock. Why wouldn’t he want to date her? He had been searching for his soulmate ever since he was 14. The day he first saw her, he knew she was perfect for him. He saw the tears that built into her eyes and he grew angry, why didn’t she believe him? Is that why she always rejected him, not because she didn’t like him in some way, but because she didn’t believe she was good enough for him? He wanted to reassure her that she was amazing, perfect even; but before he could she was running away leaving a stunned Jason behind. While he was thinking to himself, she saw his anger building and that was what lead her to running.

He turned to go after her but then he thought of a plan.

Jason went back to the manor and logged into the Bat computer and clicked on the secret file he had been making for y/n ever since he met her. It was filled with documents and pictures, even her birth certificate and her address. He was waiting until they would actually start dating to go see her house but he figured no time was better than the present and he was getting rather impatient.

He put on this red hood uniform and went to her house. Luckily her backyard had plenty of trees to hide in. Jason looked around the top floor of the house first but when he didn’t see his soulmate he checked the bottom, and luckily he did because there was yelling coming from the kitchen.

He crouched down in front of the window that was by the kitchen sink and looked into the room to see Y/N and her foster dad.

“What is this? I said I wanted filet! Not some lousy steak! Have you learned nothing?! If you can’t even do this simple task for me after I’ve spent a long day at work just to take care of you, you ungrateful child! No wonder your other parents left, I wouldn’t want you either if you didn’t get me money from the state!How are you ever going to find some unlucky man to love you?” Her father yelled and she stood in front of him slightly shaking in fear. Jason’s fists clenched and ached to grab his gun and kill the man right then and there. But, he couldn’t do that to Y/N, he wouldn’t do anything that risked hurting her.

Her foster dad finally stopped yelling at her and he sat down and ate the food she prepared. She wasn’t allowed to eat whatever food he bought for her to make. Y/N walked back up to her room with a small bowl of cereal, which was one of the only things she could eat at the house because she bought it herself.

Jason went back home and thought over what happened. No wonder she always ran away or didn’t believe him when he asked her out, not with those words drilled into her head. He knew that he needed to act fast, Jason wanted to make her feel loved.

The Next Day

Y/N walked down the halls at school like usual until she was unexpectedly pulled into a empty classroom.

She turned around to see Jason standing there with a large bouquet of her favorite flowers.

“Y/N, Will you please go out on a date with me?”

She looked into his eyes and once again saw them silently begging her to accept, and she truly did what to… but she was scared.

“Why?” Y/N couldn’t help but ask once again. To her, she wasn’t anything special, she wasn’t worthy of being in a relationship. How could she possibly say yes when she had so many doubts filling her mind.

Jason’s eyes softened and he told her everything he loved about her, from the ways her eyes shined brightly when she was happy, or the way she would lightly twist her hair when she was nervous; which she was doing as he said that making her eyes widen adorably, he told her how he loved how she tried to help everyone around her. Jason could see her shoulders rising up as if the weight of the words her father had told her were slowing disappearing, and he kept going until she was smiling shyly with slight happy tears in her eyes.

Y/N didn’t believe what she was hearing. Jason, Jason Todd, Son of Multi-Billionaire Bruce Wayne, like her. But she looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity behind them and Jason finally got the answer he wanted.

“Yes. I will go on a date with you.” Jason lightly put the flowers down on the desk then rushed to Y/N and picked her up in a hug and spun them both making her squeal slightly before laughing. Jason could hardly believe it. She finally said yes and he was happy beyond compare.

“I guess I won’t have to go with Todd’s plan.” Jason thought to himself with a smirk as he set her down on the floor and handed her the flowers and she held them to her tightly, appreciating the gesture.

“Better off this way anyway.” Jason smiled at her and she reciprocated it with one just as happy. She didn’t know she was never going to be alone again

That’s how Jason finally won over his soulmate and he was never letting her go.

Blue Collar

Jason Todd x reader

Reader: Female

Warnings: Pet death (dog), angst, sad reader, my writing cause that’s a ALWAYS a warning

Why I wrote this: Because I had to put my dog down on Saturday 25 January 2020

Jason Peter Todd wasn’t known to be a light sleeper. In fact if he did wake up early it was only because he’d had a nightmare but you would always be there to calm him down and reassure him that everything’s alright. You’d never wake him up early anyway as he nearly always came home late from patrol. He’d come home at 2am tonight.

Jason wasn’t awake, not fully at least, but awake enough to know that something was wrong. It was like a sixth sense. His brain kicked in making the sleep Jason was clinging to evaporte like mist. He opened his eyes to see you huddled over, back rising and falling erraticly. The sleep was still in his ears and he couldn’t hear anything which made him panic more.

Pushing the covers away he frantically pulled his way over to you and sat next to you on the bed. He saw the tears before his hearing finally kickstarted like an engine. His face turned to a frown and his heart broke at the sight of his beautiful girl crying.

“Baby? Y/n what’s wrong?” He questioned. She opened her mouth but no words came out just a choked sob. She grasped whatever she had in her hands tighter. Jason’s eyebrows furrowed until he made out what it was. A dogs collar.

“He’s gone Jay. “ She finally managed to utter out before the tears came back. Jason placed his arm around her shoulders and brought her closer to his chest as she sobbed staring at the collar through blurry eyes. “His kidneys were going when my parents took him they said he wouldn’t of lasted much longer anyway.” She sobbed again and Jason tightened his hold on her. “They said we did the right thing we ended his suffering earlier but why does it feel so wrong?”

“It’s because you loved him and he loved you. You didn’t do the wrong thing and it’s natural that you should feel like this. He’s never gone anyway he’s always going to be in your heart. You wouldn’t want him to hurt would you?” She shook your head “I know it’s hard babe but he’s in a better place now.”

“Yeah.” She muttered tears slowly stopping and her grip on his collar slowly loosening. Jason smiled at her and she smiled back, it was full of sadness and pain but it was a smile.

“I’ll always be here for you y/n I’ll make sure you get through this.”

“Thanks Jay.” She said wiping the tears from her eyes. He pecked her lips noting how salty they tasted.

“How about we go back to sleep yeah? I’m sure all that cryings probably made you feel wiped out.” She chuckled and it sounded like music to Jason’s ears. They both got back under the covers and she laid her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat as he traced random patterns on her. Eventually they fell asleep. Y/n still held onto his blue collar, she’d bought when she first got him, knowing that although her dog may not be here physically he’d always be with her in spirit.

Ok wow that was a shitty ending sorry. But I couldn’t write much more on this cause I was crying so much. The pictures below are of my dog Dougal. Love you so much pal I hope you’re having loads of fun in doggy heaven

I Need My Girl

Jason Todd x fem!reader/ (Slight) Garfield Logan x reader

Inspiration: Song: I Need My Girl by The National

Summary: The reader (Jason’s crush) pushes him out of the way to save him. The reader goes to hospital and while Jason’s and the rest of the Titans are waiting for any news Jason’s guilt eats him alive.

Warnings: One swear word, angst, fluff, first kiss as a couple, reader almost dies, Jason crying cause he’s my baby and I don’t want him to cry but I make him cry anyway and I should really make a happy thing with Jason but I just don’t ???

“Jason look out!” She shouted pushing him away mere seconds before she took the blast. Everything froze and Jason couldn’t hear himself scream but he felt it. The burning of his throat like he’d swallowed a wildfire slowly turned to coal that weighed in his stomach as he made his way to her. He fell to his knees and pulled her softly so that her head rested on his thighs. He just stared at her with blurry eyes that seemed to her blurrier. That’s the last thing he remembered before he was waiting in the hospital.

Dick, Rachel and Kori sat on the scratchy and uncomfortable hospital chairs. While Jason and Garfield paced around the waiting room.

"Guys could you please sit down you're making me more nervous." Rachel said as her head was in her hands.

"No we can't. Look I'm sorry Rach but I'm not going to sit down. I can't. I can't-" Garfield put a shaky hand through his green hair as he let out an even shakier breath. Kori stood up and made him sit down.

"Why is no one saying anything?! Jesus Y/n could be dying or dead because of me and no one-" Jason shouted

"Jason don't talk like that." Rachel muttered, eyes brimming with fresh tears.

"But it's the truth." Jason countered

"Would you two shut it." Dick said. Everyone jumped that was the first thing that Dick said since they'd been in the waiting room.

“No Dick I’m not shutting up. Y/n is one of us. If she wasn’t so fucking selfless then I would be in the hospital bed that she’s in and to be honest I’d trade places with her in a heartbeat. I’m not bothered about people dying. People die everyday but I don’t want her to die today." Jason got up and walked off. The cold air bit him but he couldn’t care less. His mind was whirling. Why him? Why did you save him? Out of all the team why would you save him? He didn’t have powers like Kori or Raven or Gar. He was a shadow to Dick. He knew he’d never be what Bruce wanted him to be. Bruce wanted him to be like Dick but he wasn’t.

I can't get my head around it

I keep feeling smaller and smaller

I need my girl

After what felt like eternity one of the nurses came.

"Excuse me are you all here for Y/n Y/l/n?" A nurse said everyone looked at her.

"Yes we are. Is anything wrong?" Kori asked. The nurse smiled warmly

"No nothing's wrong, your friend is lucky to have survived that." Garfield nervously chuckled putting his hands behind his head and resting on the back of the seat

"Yeah she is a lucky charm."

"You're free to see her now." The nurse informed them, everyone got up quickly.

"I'll go get Jason." Kori said everyone nodded as she went out the door to find him.

***********

Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound of a heart monitor was the sound that filled her ears as she woke up slowly. Y/n slowly blinked and groaned at the light. As her eyes adjusted she could make out three figures; Garfield, Dick and Rachel. Her voice was hoarse.

“Where’s Kori and Jason?”

"Kori went to find Jason. He couldn't handle it." Rachel said her chin length bon was slightly messy. Guilt filled Y/n. Y/n and Jason has always been close since she’d first joined the Titans. She’s seen sides of Jason none of them ever would. She didn't even want to think about what could've happened if she hadn't of made it. She shook her head.

“You have no idea how happy I am that you survived.” Dick spoke she chuckled slightly.

“You and I both Dicky.” They smiled at each other.

“Y/n/n." She heard a voice say barely above a whisper, the team made way for Jason as he hugged her.

"C'mon guys lets leave Jason and Y/n for awhile. Glad to see you’re better Y/n." Kori said. Everyone left but Garfield cast one last look at Y/n before Kori gave him a quick, swift kick in the shin. He let out a soft groan before leaving. Jason and Y/n laughed. They both nodded in thanks. She returned the gesture before walking out.

"I'm guessing the team have already said how glad they are to have you back." Jason said

"Yeah." There was a silence. "Rachel told me how you couldn't handle it." Her voice was sympathetic. Jason chuckled as a few tears streamed down his face. Y/n laid a hand on his cheek and he nuzzled into it.

"I am sorry you know. I thought I'd be stronger but when the doctors weren't telling us anything it hit me like a truck that I might be losing my best friend and when I thought I'd lost you. You have no idea how scared I was when I thought I would never be able to tell you how much I-" Jason cut himself off before he went any further. He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and broke eye contact. Y/n raised a questionable eyebrow but said nothing.

“Now you know how I feel when you get hurt.” Jason chuckled “besides it’s gonna have to take a lot more than that to finish me off. I am a Titan after all.”

"To right you are. No wonder your nickname’s lucky, you've always been lucky you know ever since you came into my life I feel like it’s become a better place.”

“I know Jay.” The air was filled with a comfortable silence except for the beeping.

“Jason.” He hummed “what were you going to say before you cut yourself off?” Jason looked like he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t of been doing.

“You know the usual sappy stuff when you nearly lose someone.” He said taking his hands out of his pockets and using one to rub the back of his neck.

“So say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say the sappy stuff that people say when they nearly lose someone.” There was a mischievous glint in her eye and Jason chuckled.

“Fine. Y/n Y/l/n I couldn’t imagine my life without you. Everyday you make my life a better place and I feel so much happier with you by my side.”

“No offence Jay but that sounded more like a marriage proposal and you can’t propose without dating a girl gees Jason.” She said laughing. He grabbed her face and pushed his lips to hers. They moved in sync as she grabbed his wrist. They broke apart and Jason opened his mouth "I feel the same bozo don't worry." He smiled.

"Which is why I've decided on something that will keep you out of harms way. You're never going on a mission again unless you're with me," Jason told Y/n in a half joking, half serious tone.

"Well you are the reason I’m in here anyway. But if I don't go how am I supposed to help you out. The whole team knows you never think of a plan." Jason laughed.

"So you never look behind you. Is there a reason for that or did you just do it?" Y/n shrugged.

"I guess if I look back then I'm scared I'm gonna get lost in the past and I won't be able to do anything 'cause I'll be stuck there. I’ve been stuck in the past for to long and I need to change it but no matter how much you want to change something in the past it's stuck there now forever and there's nothing you can do about it. " Jason was left speechless he never though there would be an actual reason as to why she never looked back. It scared Jason how she never had any emotion in her when she said that or in her face. "Besides I didn't want to see how far you were behind me." She added with a light laugh.

“More like how close I was.”

"Yeah right. I was faster than you and you knew it." They both laughedz

"Sir I'm sorry but visiting hours are almost over and Miss Y/l/n will need to get some rest." Jason nodded and pressed a long chaste kiss to the crown of Y/n’s head.

“Soon as your out of here I’m taking you on a date.” He whispered

“Can’t wait.” She whispered back and Jason broke out into a boyish grin. She chuckled. “Right go come on Jay I need my beauty sleep.”

“Trust me baby you really don’t.” She blushes and Jason chuckled. "See you tomorrow.”

“Bye handsome.” He excused himself past the nurse and towards the team.

"Do you know how long she's gonna be in here for?" Garfield asked Jason shook his head. Garfield’s demeanour slumped.

“I hope it’s not long though I’ve got to take her on a date.” Jason said everyone stared at him wide eyed. Garfield lightly punched his shoulder and Dick ruffled his hair.

"We'll visit her everyday though." Rachel said

"For sure." Jason said

"Let's get going." Kori suggested the team hummed in agreement before walking out of the hospital where Y/n wouldn’t be in for much longer.

Jason, standing outside an apartment with a prom sign:

Roy, leaning out of the window: Oh my god YES!!!

Jason: No! Tell Y/n!

Roy, yelling: Y/n! I’m going to prom! WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND!

Tim: Ah yes my train of thought.

Y/n: Or as we like to call it;

Conner: The anxiety coffee obsessed express.

~~~~~

Dick: My future spouse is probably fake laughing at their significant others jokes right now.

Dick: Don’t worry and be patient my love. A true clown is on his way.

~~~~~

Y/n: Jaybird, can you turn on the lights?

Jason: I don’t have to. You’re the only light I need in my life.

Y/n: Jay, that’s sweet, but I can’t see.

~~~~~

Damian, externally: As a hero in training, I don’t believe senseless violence is how my father would want me to solve things

Damian, internally: I’M GOING TO RIP HIS HEAD OFF AND SEND IT TO HIS FAMILY

~~~~~

Tim: I almost got surprised adopted yesterday

Bruce: What?

Jason: He almost got kidnapped.

Bruce: Oh okay

Bruce: WAIT WHAT

~~~~~

Dick: It’s not illegal.

Police officer staring into Dick’s car boot which is full of bread because Kori had pregnancy cravings: It’s just... there’s so much...

Dick: But it’s not illegal.

Police officer:

~~~~~

Jason: I learned some very valuable lessons from this

Y/n: Let me guess they’re all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should’ve taken away

Jason: Death isn’t real and I’m a god

———————-

Store worker: Would a Y/n y/l/n please come to the front desk?

Y/n arriving at the front desk: Hello, what’s the problem?

Store worker, points to Jason and Roy: I believe they belong to you?

Jason and Roy simultaneously: We got lost

Y/n: I didn’t even bring you guys with me

————————

Y/n: I want to wake up with you everyday for the rest of our lives

Jason: I normally wake up at 4:30

Y/n: ...

Y/n/ I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives

Jason, talking to Roy unaware that Y/n’s in the apartment as well: Hello fellow idiot

Y/n: Hey Jay

Jason: No, no, not you, you’re not an idiot

Y/n: You underestimate me

—————

Jason: Okay I get it. You’ve had a hard time lately, you’re stressed, seven people died-

Y/n: Twelve actually

Jason: Not the point. Look they’re dead now and really whose fault was that?

Y/n: Ours!

Jason: That’s right: no one’s

—————————

Roy: Truth or dare

Y/n: Dare

Roy: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in this room

Y/n: Hey Jay

Jason blushing furiously: Yeah?

Y/n: Could you move? I’m trying to get to Kori

Unhealthy obsessions

what’s going on with the world rn

Help for Venezuela. REBLOG PLEASE.

Help me spread the word about what is happening in my country.I don't want to cry anymore thinking about what is going to happen to my family, or my friends. Many in my generation have committed suicide due to the desperation of the current crisis, others have left their university careers to go to work at an early age for a starvation wage. Please, I just want to stop suffering, I don't want to cry anymore, I just want a normal adolescence for all young people. My people need FREEDOM.

Jason Todd doesn’t want to spend more time than he needs to at the manor. He’s there solely because Alfred asked for him; the less he saw of everyone else, the better. But, in retrospect, Jason thinks, spending hours in Bruce’s presence would be better than this – better than the supposed gift Alfred gave him. 

Piles and piles of letters you’d written him since his death now lay spread out across his bed. Some were borderline incoherent, and even the ones that weren’t rendered on incoherent halfway through, when you’d begin blaming yourself for not being able to help him, to heal him, how your powers failed you that day. 

He could tell you’d poured hours into these letters – never believing he’d ever read them. There was not a single letter that was free from having the ink smudged along the pages. 

Alfred’s words still haunted him. 

“There are recent ones in there as well. Even after they’d left Gotham, every month, without fail they’d arrive. It used to be more, but Dick talked to them. I thought you deserved to see them, they’re addressed to you after all.” 

Alfred was wrong. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve the hours of pain, love and remorse you’d probably put into writing these. Not when he believes he’s no longer the boy you once knew. But your words are forever imprinted in his mind. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

He’s sorry too, because right now, he’s too scared, too much of a coward he believes, to confront you. To explain what happened. 

So, instead, he will dissect your letters, every single thought you’ve had since his death, everything you were unable to tell him. He will memorise your penmanship, and the words that followed, till he can recall them from memory. You’re an unbending force, calling out to him, to reread your letters, and he will, as he waits for the next ones to arrive. 

And maybe, when his feelings build up, and it gets too much, he’ll take the leap and try to find you. He’s not ready to confront you, not yet, but he needs to see you, just once. So, instead, he’ll allow himself small mercies to see you, in his own way.  And if that means watching you through your window as you pen your next letter, or tracking your movements during the day, then so be it. One day, he hopes, he can write back to you. 

You’re sorry you couldn’t say goodbye, he’s sorry for not giving you the chance to.