Orion

— tim drake

— dick grayson

— jason todd

a/n: baby's first SMAU! this is a prompt that has floated around in my brain for a while and i'm honestly kind of shocked that i've never seen it done before (let me know if u have). all the pictures are from pinterest btw. let me know what u think!

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

Getting hurt on the job is nothing new for Jason. That and his stubbornness make him asking for help a rare sight. Usually he would just go to a safe house and stitch himself up, but tonight, on top of all of the other things that didn't go according to plan, he got stabbed in a particularly hard to reach area, somewhere near his shoulder blade, making any attempt to treat the wound himself futile. 

Going to any member of his family was out of the question, so, in a blood loss induced haze, he sent Roy a series of pretty vague texts, asking him to open his window and wait for him. Once Jason got at his friend's apartment complex, he immediately spotted an open window. As he kept climbing the fire escape, he found himself hoping Lian was already asleep in her room, and not there to witness his favorite uncle barging in the living room with a bloody shoulder. 

So here he is, letting out a series of grunts, feeling the cut on his back sting and burn after each of his movements. Once he finally manages to let himself inside the apartment, it takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize that the room doesn't resemble the one where he had spent many nights eating Chinese takeout and watching old action movies. 

The space feels cozy nonetheless, just in a different way. Despite the abundance of shelf space, there are many books laying around on the floor and covering the coffee table. The room smells clean, probably thanks to the lit candle casting a warm glow on the wall opposite to it. The couch looks strangely comfortable – even though he has slept on enough couches to know that it's probably just an illusion. But the real star of the show is the rug he's currently bleeding on, leaving behind some droplets of blood that will probably be a pain in the ass to get off. 

Well, shit.

Before Jason even has the time to consider bolting from the apartment, a sound coming from the hallway catches his attention. 

Despite the source's best efforts to conceal themselves, he's quick enough to catch a glimpse of them and realize the type of mess he has just gotten himself into. 

"You can come out. I'm not going to hurt you."

Jason knows that his coarse voice is probably not the most trust worthy, but after a second of consideration, you walk out of the hallway, still holding a baseball in you shaky hands. 

"What are you doing in my apartment?" you ask, tightening your grip on the wooden stick, trying to look menacing. At least you tried, Jason thinks. 

"Listen, there has been a mistake. I'm currently in the wrong place."

"Clearly," you deadpan, unable to refrain yourself from making a snarky remark. 

Jason tries to let out an annoyed sigh, but the motion sends a wave of pain to his injured shoulder, making him wince instead. 

That seems to ease you enough to lower the baseball and getting a better look at the masked man currently standing in your living room and- wait, are those…?

"Are those bloodstains on my rug?" you ask, going from sounding scared to deeply annoyed. 

Before Jason can reply – surely a sarcastic remark about where your priorities lay – he feels himself getting lightheaded. His hand moves to the windowsill, trying to hold himself upright. In a second, he hears the sound of your baseball hitting the floor and sees you approaching him. You take the arm on his uninjured side and place it around your shoulders, slowly leading him to your bathroom. 

"What happened to you?" you ask him as you help him sit on the lid of your toilet, before turning to your cabinet and taking out what looks like a well equipped first aid kit. 

"Stab wound. On my back, near my left shoulder." 

You hum in response, getting closer to him and examining the affected area. By the look on your face, the wound must not look good. You sight, taking a moment to think about your next move, and probably regretting not making him leave your apartment when you still had the chance. 

"Alright, can you take off your jacket and the top half of your… what is it? A costume?"

Jason's tempted to reply, but the glint in your eyes tells him that you're just teasing him. So instead he shrugs off his leather jacket, needing you help to peel off the part partially covering his wound. When it's time to take off his top, he realizes it will be difficult to do with his helmet still on. 

You seem to pick up on his internal conflict and just say, "You've just bleed out on my rug. I think I deserve to see your face. I won't tell anyone abut it, picky promise."

He considers it for a moment before taking off his helmet, immediately followed by the top, hissing when the part damp with blood peels off from his wound. Once he's done, he look back at you, finding you looking right back at him with a strange expression on your face.

Turns out the intruder you where about to beat up – or try to – with your baseball is an attractive one. Really attractive. 

His face has a roughness to it that strangely lulls you in, making you wonder what he went through in his lifetime. His eyes are a beautiful shade of green you had never seen on another human, but only in nature, reminding you of the color of a forest after it has rained. His hair are mostly dark, except a white streak that's currently sticking to his forehead, drenched with sweat. His chest and arms, now on full display, look even more impressive than they had underneath the layer of tactical gear. You spot a bunch of scars, some more healed than other, running all over his skin, and you have the strange desire to run your fingers all over them. 

"Should I turn around a bit? So you have better access to the wound."

Jason's voice brings you back to reality, reminding you of the situation you're currently in.

"Oh, yeah, right," you mumble, busying yourself with a pair of sterile gloves, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. He just barged into your apartment with a stab wound and wearing tactical gear, for fuck's sake. Get it together! 

After pouring some disinfectant of a clean gauze pad, you take a step closer to him, hoping the injury is not as serious as it seems. 

"It's going to sting," you whisper for no reason at all. Maybe not to disrupt the comfortable silence that has fallen between the two of you. 

The proximity makes it possible for Jason to smell the fruity scent of your shampoo, and he feels like a creep for noticing. Get it together, man! 

"Don't think it'll hurt more than being stabbed did," he mumbles back, but he quickly has to bite the inside of his cheek to silence the pained groan that was about to escape from his lips as soon as the disinfectant made contact with his wound. 

"So," you begin as you keep cleaning the area, noticing that thankfully the wound it not as deep as you previously thought, "earlier you said that you're in the wrong place. What was your actual destination? 'Cause I have a sneaking suspicion it wasn't a hospital." 

Jason considers lying to you, he really does, but there's something about your gentle touch that makes him want to be honest just for once. You're helping him, after all. He owes you this much. 

"The destination was my friend's apartment,' he replies after a moment of hesitation. "He was supposed to leave his window open for me." 

"What is it with your aversion for doors?" you ask, clearly amused by his initial plan. "And why wouldn't you take a quick glance before sneaking into someone's apartment through their window?" 

Jason doesn't like the fact that you're making some really good points, so he tries to divert. "How the hell was I supposed to know that someone else would leave their window open at the exact same time? Who the hell does that in Gotham?" 

"People with a busted AC do," you retort, involuntarily applying more pressure while cleaning him up. "And anyway, you've stained my rug." 

Oh, here we go again. Back to your precious rug. 

"I said I'm sorry!"

"No, you didn't!" 

"Well, I am!" 

A moment passes. 

"Sorry," you both say at the same time. He just got stabbed, you reason, and you're helping him despite having just met him, Jason reminds himself. 

"The wound is not as bad as it looked before. I'll secure a clean gauze over it and you should be fine for tonight. But you'll need to get it checked up by a professional."

Your words reassure Jason, but there's a small, irrational part of him that wishes he had an excuse to spend more time with you. It's stupid, he's well aware of that, but he wishes he could give you another reason to keep touching him with such care, to keep you this close to him for just a little longer. 

Once you're done and he's dressed again – except for his helmet – you finally ask him who's the friend he initially asked for help. When you hear Roy's name, your face lights up, and you can barely hide your amusement when you tell him he's your next door neighbor. He literally missed Roy's apartment by one, singular window. 

Great. Just great. 

When Jason looks at his phone, he finds many concerned texts from his friend, and you offer to help him get to his apartment. He's feeling much better now, but he won't pass up the opportunity to linger at your side just a few minutes longer. 

Roy's immediate reaction when he opens his door is to question Jason, asking him what the hell those texts were supposed to mean. It seemingly takes him a moment to realize you're there as well, and your reply to his silent question is a simple, "Wrong window." 

Putting together the contents of Jason's previous texts and the embarrassed look on his friend's face, he can't help but laugh at him, earning a glare from Jason and an amused smile from you. 

"Yeah, okay, keep laughing at me all you want, but I'm the one who got stabbed tonight," he complains, sounding more like a petulant child. 

Completely ignoring his friend, Roy thanks you for taking care of him, reassuring you that he's got it from here. 

"Oh, and thank your for watching Lian the other night. You're a lifesaver." 

"Don't worry about it. I guess I'll see you around. Oh, and tell her I said hi."

And with that you're gone. 

Once Jason walks into Roy's apartment and the redhead closes the door behind them, he drops on the sofa, careful not to leave behind any blood stains.

"Well, I guess you just met the neighbor I've been trying to set you up with for weeks," Roy comments while sitting next to Jason. "You sure has hell made a strong first impression, let me tell you that…" 

A/N: This was the fic! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, even if it's criticism (as long as it's constructive). I love talking with you angels, so my dms and inbox are always open!

All the love, Anna ♡

He was sitting on the couch, drinking tea, before he looked up. His eyes that were molten gold, seemed to have witnessed so much of the world - you were beginning to feel overwhelmed at the amount of power those eyes held. There was a certain glint in them – one that was making you uncomfortable. His hair was a bloody shade of red, gold jewellery adorning his horns. He looked a lot like diavolo, except he wasn’t.

You connected the dots and realised that you have come face to face with the Demon King.

“Who are you and how does a mere human being know my son?” His power flooded the room, almost making your knees buckle. You could feel the wrath building up in the room – you were becoming wary.

But you needed to display some manners, of course, he was not like your sins and Diavolo, this man wanted you respect him address him accordingly.

“I am MC, Your Highness,” you answered his first question, bowing down slightly. The King’s eyes narrowed slightly : he seemed quite sceptical of you. “How do you know my son, human?” You knew this man is ancient, and probably despises the human race, and you didn’t think at all he’d take kindly to the exchange program. Did that stop you though? Absolutely not.

“Lord Diavolo is my friend, Your Highness,” you stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I know for a fact that my son doesn’t go around making friends – he has a responsibility of being the heir to the throne. So tell me the truth, human, lest you want me give you an eternal punishment,” he calmly said. You, on the other hand, wasn’t impressed at all. You were saying half truth of course – he didn’t need to know about the exchange program. But seeing that his pupils were practically non existent, and his wings were outstretched, you knew you had to come clean, unless you wanted to be stuck in the dungeons.

“I know the Prince through an exchange program uniting the three realms, Your Highness.” You could not show any fear, though you were quite close to legging it. “An exchange program,you say? Do tell me more,” his eyes widened – lips curling into an unwelcoming wide smile. You read enough to know that this man was getting ready to pounce on you, yet you complied.

“The exchange program was made to unite the three realms and to live in harmony and peace with one another, and learning about demons, angels and humans,” you replied, making sure not to look him in the eye. “Oh? And it was my son who has made this program? Well it seems that a lot has changed after all.” He seemed to be talking to himself. You were still on high alert, his wings were a sight to look at, but they were still outstretched, and that was dangerous in itself.

“It also seems my son has forgotten his place as the prince of hell. I can’t believe he’s been dilly-dallying with humans.” He sighed dramatically. “I now know that humans have made him soft, and this exchange program? Goodness me, that disgrace of a child has cast shame upon the name of the devils,” he seethed.

You completely zoned out. You could tell he was berating Diavolo even more, but you couldn’t stand there and watch while this man was running his mouth. You needed this man to know that respect goes both ways : you earn it and you give it. You did not care that this man was a whole powerful eldritch being , but although your hands were trembling, when did you have any regard for self preservation? MC, you maybe a human, but you are a force to be reckoned with.

“With all due respect Your Majesty, Lord Diavolo is your son, correct?” You smiled. “Excuse me?” The king sputtering, confused. You dropped your smile. “Answer the question,” you stated, taking a seat on the single love seat. “…Yes, he is.” The king furrowed his brows. Humans normally beg for mercy in his presence, why must this human be any different?

“Well then. Why are you calling Diavolo a disgrace?” You looked him in the eye. “In what way is Diavolo a disgrace?” You asked him – you wanted to see his thought process. “Well, he is affiliated with humans, devil forbid the day he becomes friends with an angel,” he sneered at you, trying to intimidate you. You helped yourself to a cup of tea, knowing that this man will be spewing a whole load of bullshit. “Unfortunately for you, he is.” You smirked, loving the way this sad excuse of a father had a horrified look on his face. However, before a word tumbled out of his mouth, you held up a scone to him. The demon looked quite puzzled, but he took it either way.

“Before you say anything more, Your Highness, do you like war?” You asked him, sipping on your tea. “Pardon?” His eyes were wide – he never answered a question like this before. You narrowed your eyes at him, growing impatient. “You are not hard of hearing are you? Answer the question.” You inquired. You were not having any regard to your safety at all, but you really needed to show this man his place.

The king’s face twisted into even more confusion, and there were hints of anger in his eyes. He still couldn’t get over the fact that you were asking him questions and making a fool out of himself without even trying. “No I don’t,” he replied carefully. “Then do you not realise that your son is doing a lot to prevent wars in the future, he made an exchange program to protect all his people, and to overcome differences with each other. He has done a lot more than you have, and on top of that, he had to rule hell in place of you. And what were you doing?” You spoke with power, and could tell the king was getting mad.

“What were you doing, Your Highness?” You asked again, mocking his title. “I was in the dungeons,” he replied, sitting straight, knowing that saying the truth of him sleeping would sound ridiculous. “Well,” you took a deep breath and continued,“that does not give an excuse to berate your child, who has been doing everything to rule over hell.” You sighed. With the way the king was staring at you, you knew that you may pass away today.

That didn’t stop you from telling the man off. “You were in the dungeons, sleeping the whole time while diavolo was taking care of hell, while he was improving the devildom, and the day you wake up, you start running your mouth, and disrespecting you son. I expected the king to be sophisticated man, who would praise his son’s achievements, but I guess I was wrong,” you responded.

A deep rumble was heard, and the king was baring his fangs at you. Quite frankly, you were very disappointed, but your hands were shaking. “What is your name, Your Highness?” You inquired. “That does not concern you,” he hissed in reply. “Very well, Midas, I shall take the honour of teaching you some lessons on respect today.”

The king could feel his patience thinning. How dare they make a fool out of me, he thought. They dare address me as Midas, the name of that greedy fool?! How dare they disrespect me?

You could feel the kings wrath filling the room, and his pride was crumbling. You knew that the brothers do get fed when any demon of any rank gives into their sin, and that in this particular case, a certain cat lover was going to have quite a feast. You waited for the king to calm down, which was not happening at all until you became irritated. “You are the King of Hell, the most powerful being in here, yet you are being reduced to a mess by a mere human?” You tilted your head slightly, waiting for the king to answer. But alas, he was still seething on his sofa.

The king stared at you with pure unfiltered anger, and just as you were about to speak, the king stood up to his full height. He towered over you, baring his fangs, itching to kill. “You will regret ever making me angry, human,” he spat. “I will deal with that boy later and give him and his avatars a painful punishment, but for now, human, your soul is mine to take.”

The demon did not know what to make of the disdainful look on your face - the disappointment a mother feels towards her child sometimes, and a part of the king did not like it. He reached for your neck, trying to take your soul, but the smell of burning flesh filled his nose. The demon looked at his hand : his skin burning and cracking. He frowned – a human should not be able to perform any magic, unless they are a sorcerer.

You, on the other hand, thanked Luke in your head for blessing you – that kid is going to become a fantastic angel, you were sure of it.

The king looked down on you, his hands curled in fists, for he hated how you seemed unfazed. “I’d like you to take a seat, kind sir,” you said plainly, “I’ll have to teach you a lesson on respect.” With a flick of your wrist, a massive whiteboard and some whiteboard pens appeared. The demon king looked dumbfounded - yet he quickly replaced that look with a look of anger.

You looked up and still saw the man shaking in anger. Irritated, you kissed your teeth. The idea of a full grown man, a whole demon king at that, mad and upset at you just because you were trying to teach him some respect, made you feel very smug, but, the demon was wasting your time.

“Sit. Down.” The king’s eyes darkened. A part of him wanted to listen to you, but he mostly wanted to throw you across the room. Respect, my ass, he thought. You payed no heed. If he was going to stand, then so be it. You opened your marker, and started explaining. “Respect goes both ways, you should know, of course,” you began your lecture.

• • •

You finished your lecture after a whole two hours has passed, which shouldn’t have taken so long - it was honestly concerning. You made sure the king understood that he couldn’t put his son and avatars in the dungeons, and he reluctantly agreed. The king also managed to understand, to your surprise, that the exchange program was necessary for the future of all three worlds.

However, while you were sitting on the sofa, you couldn’t help but wonder where the hell the avatars and diavolo were. There were no servants around, and there was not a hint of life around the castle. Hell, the guards the usually stood outside the castle gates were not there. The only person who could know of their whereabouts was the king in front of you, and you had no choice but to ask him.

“Do you happen to know where Diavolo and the avatars are, Your Majesty?” You asked, eating a cookie. The demon however, stared at you with a look screaming ‘are you serious’. You met his stare with one of confusion. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have eaten too many cookies, human,” he told you. You were still very much baffled. “I do believe you have mistaken this place as Diavolo’s castle,” he explained. If you were confused before, you were now completely bamboozled. “What do you mean?” You asked. The demon king pursed his lips tightly.

“You are in the Mausoleum, human.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean I could’ve been with diavolo and the others this whole time, that I could’ve avoided this entire encounter, and that I went on ,” you exclaimed. All this time wasted on teaching a grown man respect, you thought sadly. You gathered your belongings and bid goodbye to the king, before he stopped you and asked how you knew he was asleep. You replied with smug look - he doesn’t need to know you’ve been eavesdropping on diavolo’s conversations with barbs.