#mugging

It would be his luck that he would be caught completely off guard by a group of homeless guys that decided to hold a knife to his throat. He didn’t even have time to activate his gauntlet before his wrists were held. He was stuck.

“Well, what do we have here huh? What are we doing in this part of town wearing fancy shoes like that?” One of them taunted. Tony chose not to say a word. “Let’s just find that wallet of yours and you can run back to whatever rich neighbourhood you came from, yeah?”

The guy started patting his pockets and Tony held his breath as he patted the one with his wallet inside except-

It wasn’t there.

The guy kept looking around, getting more and more agitated. Just as he looked about ready to throw a punch at Tony a low whistle sounded behind them.

The group paused and turned. Tony watched as some other homeless kid - couldn’t have been more than eighteen - was stood there, leisurely leaning against the wall.

“Jesus, guys. You really know how to pick ‘em,” the kid laughed, looking at an ID.

At Tony’s ID. Well, his staff card for Stark Industries, at least. In the kids other hand was a black wallet.

“Oh yeah, what is he some CEO?” The guy in charge of this little group spoke up. He sounded a bit more on edge but Tony couldn’t tell if that was because of the kid or the comment.

“You know Iron Man, right?” The kid smiles. He flicks the ID over to them and the leader catches it.

“Shit,” the guy swore, looking at Tony as if really seeing him for the first time. “Shit.”

The group collectively have a silent conversation and shove Tony to the ground before running up to the kid. One of them socks him right in the jaw before taking the wallet in his hand and running. They don’t look back.

“Jesus, kid, you good?” Tony asks, getting himself to a standing position. The kid is already up, reaching into his pocket to hold something out. It’s Tony’s leather wallet this time, completely untouched.

“Next time you decide to wander into a random alleyway, maybe don’t do it wearing a designer suit. You’re asking to get mugged,” the kid sighs, as if this is all majorly inconvenient to him but he is also slightly amused.

“Whose wallet did you give them?” Tony asks.

The boy shrugs. “Some random one I found in the park. Didn’t have anything inside it, don’t worry.”

The kid starts wandering away, Tony calls out to stop him.

“Wait, what’s your name? I’d like to thank you, let me just-“ he goes to reach into his wallet and pull out some money before the boy speaks again, turning but still walking backwards further down the alley.

“Name’s Peter and don’t worry,” he smiles, pulls two twenty dollar notes from his pocket and holds them out in front of himself proudly. “You already did.” And then he’s gone.

It’s late and you’re walking around Gotham.

CW: mugging, mention of blood, hospital

A/N: Please let me know if i missed any content warnings!

Part 1 of Gotham Nights . ݁₊ ⊹ Master List

It would’ve been pitch black outside if you were anywhere but Gotham.

Between the streetlights, advertisements, and neon signs everywhere, the sidewalk was almost as illuminated as it was in the sun.

You were on your way home from a shift at Barrel’s Bottom, a dive bar in the college side of town. You would’ve gotten an uber or hailed a taxi, but the rates at 3:40 in the morning were insane around this time since everyone in Gotham knew to avoid the crime hours in early October. Only tourists would pay the obscene fees and be out and about. No matter how much you saved on your dirt cheap apartment, there’s no way you’d spend more than $20 on a 10 minute ride.

So you opted to walk since the subways were still down from a Killer Croc attack earlier in the week. Usually when you walked home you’d wait for your coworker Barney to walk with you since he was an ex-marine, but he got off early to go to his daughter’s wedding.

So here you were, walking down the near empty streets of downtown Gotham, trying to get back home.

You took a shortcut through the market streets, where it was eerily quiet compared to early in the evenings when it was bustling with sellers and buyers. Only a few stalls were open, and they only had about 3-5 customers each.

You were about a block away when you got pulled into an alleyway. Your arm felt like it would’ve pulled out of socket if it weren’t for your attacker shoving you to the ground. Your head hit the concrete and the figure loomed over you, patting down your coat to look for something.

You fought the fog of your brain and pulled your coin purse out of your jean pocket. It had your tips in it from your shift, $146 and some change. You always kept tips separate from your wallet in case something like this happened since you could never be too cautious in Gotham.

The attacker snatched it and ran, leaving you in the wet, grimy ground.

It took a long moment for you to get the energy to sit up, and an even longer one for your head to stop spinning when you did.

Your head was between your knees as you forced yourself to suck in deep breaths of smelly air. Your chest was tight and your head was throbbing.

Then a figure dropped in front of you, their boots only a few inches from your work shoes. You weakly lifted your head and gasped at the figure, shortening your breaths even more.

It was the Red Hood. Not the gang leader with the weird ass helmet, but the vigilante with the iron-man looking helmet and brown jacket.

You tried to back up, arms weak as to crawled, but he interrupted with a robotic “Stop.”

You froze. The vigilante dropped your coin purse at your feet.

“You’re lucky I got here.” He stated dryly, like he was bored.

“Uh, um- yeah,” You choked out. “Th-thanks.”

He nodded. “You hurt? Your eyes are all fucked.” You nodded slowly and reached your hand to touch the back of your head, your fingertips came off wet.

“Fuck.” You murmured to yourself and looked down at your bloody hand.

The Red Hood took a step closer. “Let me take you to a hospital.”

“Why?” You asked before you could stop yourself, and face palmed in embarrassment. Only to gasp at the pain that rang through your head. “Sorry.” You whimpered.

The Red Hood huffed in annoyance and picked up your coin purse before picking you up bridal style. “Hang on, okay.” He spoke and you could hear a bit of his normal voice leak through his helmet since you were so close.

You nodded and weakly wrapped your arms around his neck. He pocketed the coin purse in your jacket before shifting you so you could wrap your legs around him as well.

A shot wrang out and you flinched hard at the sound, causing your head to pulse even harder. Then you were flying. You could barely acknowledge that you were grappling through the air before you passed out.

You woke up in a bright room that smelled like hand sanitizer or some sort of rubbing alcohol. A nurse was gently tapping your arm and saying your name while a doctor probed your throbbing head with her fingers.

“Oh, she’s up.” The nurse said softly. “Good.” The doctor murmured and stepped back.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Kay, this is Nurse Linton.” She introduced then ran you through concussion testing.

“Definitely concussed, we’re going to get you an x-ray and a CT scan, okay?” Dr. Kay said softly as Nurse Linton procured a wheelchair from the hallway. They got you sat in the wheelchair and off to get your pictures.

When you were returned to your room a man in an oddly familiar brown jacket and a police officer were sat in the chairs by your bed.

“This is Officer Derrick Bolt and the man that brought you in, Justin Marshall.” Nurse Linton murmured as she got you settled back in bed. “I’m going to give you an IV for hydration, do you have a preference in arm?” You shook your head and watched as Officer Bold stood. He loomed over you, maybe 6’1 or ‘2.

“Justin here told me you were mugged before your injury. Is that right?” He asked, not cautious with his volume, making you wince.

“That’s right.” You answered. “Can you tell me about that?” He asked and you nodded.

“I was heading home from work, Barrel’s Bottom, and I was a block away from my building when I got pulled into the alleyway between Bubbles’ Laundromat and Verde Bodega. Someone pushed me to the ground which cracked my head. I handed them my coin purse so I could have a chance at getting out sans any further injuries. The person ran off and I tried to calm myself down.” You paused to take a deep breath to calm your shaking hands and soothe your light head.

“Then a vigilante popped up right in front of me and tossed me my coin purse before picking me up and taking about going to a hospital. I passed out in their arms and woke up here.” You finished. Officer Bolt nodded.

“Thank you. Justin here said that a vigilante, the Red Hood, told him to bring you into the ER and that you were hurt in a mugging before grappling away. Justin was about to head in for his shift, he’s a custodian here at the hospital.” You nodded along to the officer’s explanation.

“Now that you’re up to date, I’m gonna go start on a report. My partner, Officer James Darnell will be here soon to get a description from you.” Officer Bolt explained before heading for the door. “Thank you for cooperating.” He said to you and Justin before exiting the room. Nurse Linton left soon after to get you a cup of water.

That left you and Justin.

“Must’ve been scary to see the Red Hood.” He said dryly. His voice reminded you of someone, but you couldn’t think of who.

“Um, yeah. I guess. But he got me my money back, so that was decent.” You mumbled.

Justin nodded before letting out a breath. “Well, I’ve got to get to work. Hope you heal up quick.” He said before standing and heading for the door.

“Oh, yeah… uh, thanks for bringing me in.” You replied, nervously wringing your hands. You didn’t want to be alone right now and you didn’t know where the call button was on the stupid bed.

and thinks "oh yes, that's a sane professional whose advice I can trust"? They're all doing it for a reason, I just don't know what that reason could be. Do viewers respond well to this sort of thumbnail? I don't. I hate them with a burning passion. I go out of my way to avoid clicking on any videos with people mugging like wojaks

I don't know why, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with the overall infantilization of the internet. Everything is being dumbed down for 12 year olds and ipad babies, a whole generation with no attention span (not their fault, it's bad parenting), so I feel like these faces are meant to trigger some lizardbrain curiosity, "gee, I wonder what these guys are so excited about."