Cardinal Sins (Sequel to ARS) Jason Todd x Roy Harper x fem!reader

I Am the Antichrist to You

TW: major character death

The culmination of years of torture weighs on your shoulders as you step onto the deck, delicately lifting your ball gown as you do so. Either the weight will be removed by the end of the night, or you'll be dead. Either way, you've come to terms with the likely outcomes, whatever they may be. It's time to end this once and for all.

Flanked by your partners, you're greeted by two men in identical masks who hold walkie-talkies.

Jason takes the lead here and speaks for the group. "Redemption." His voice is silky and calm, completely fitting in with the rest of Gotham's elite who have been through the same line as you.

Without hesitation, they respond, "For our mission."

You nod in a way you hope is convincing, but you can't help but want to roll your eyes under your mask. These people are so fucking insane and so fucking full of themselves at the same time. Regardless, you can't help but feel a bit intimidated by it all. Similar to when you'd hijacked The Court meeting a week ago, you feel more akin to a drop of blood in a pool of sharks- like they all know exactly who you are and are just waiting for the word to start the feeding frenzy.

Roy extends a gloved hand out to you, which you take as you enter the threshold of the lively event. He squeezes your own gloved hand gently as you make your way through throngs of matching owl masks, effectively snapping you out of your doomed thoughts.

"Is everything alright?" he asks in a voice reminiscent of Ollie's confident intonation. The realization makes you smile, ridding you of your sudden bout of nerves.

"Of course, my love," you respond, feeling out your own character for the night. "We should go mingle," you say as you glance around the crowded main deck with what you hope comes off as arrogance or confidence. While you're attempting to focus on playing the part, your mind can't help but wander, while your body can't help but thrum with adrenaline, knowing what's to come. For now, at least, it all seems calm, so you attempt to revel in the moment with Roy.

From behind you, Damian and Jason break off from your group with a slight nod in your direction as they head up to the bridge deck in search of information on the missing microwave emitter. Though Bruce said he hadn't seen it boarding the yacht, you can't help but feel that this ship is exactly where it's hiding.

Slowly, you and Roy converse your way inside where the party is just as hectic. Tray after tray of champagne is offered your way, finally forcing you to take one for yourself and one in Roy's stead. Once again, you're faced with the dilemma of how to drink in this goddamned mask. The night is passing by quickly, and you hardly have time to keep up with each passing second as your mind centers around your goal.

Off to your left, you find a staircase down to the crew mess, which you know will grant you access to the cargo hold. Out of all the places to hide a two-ton machine, you get the feeling the bottom of the boat is the optimal hiding place. With your new destination in mind, you pull Roy close, whispering this into his ear.

"Cover me," you finish as your silky red glove slips from his white one.

At first, Roy seems hesitant, but he knows it won't make sense for both of you to get caught down there without raising suspicions. You can only hope you won't run into any staff. Though you know it's unlikely you'll run into anyone, you still turn on your drunk-off-your-ass persona. Strategically stumbling down the crew stairs with your champagne flute in hand, you find the room completely empty. You don't put the act down just yet, though, as you wander further in, stopping suddenly when you notice the kitchen bustling with activity on one side and a quiet hallway off to the other. Without missing a beat, you quicken your pace over to the latter, frantically searching for any form of door that would lead you further down into the boat. Upon reaching the end of the hallway with no sign of anything of the sort, you concede to make your way back up to Roy.