greeeengoblin

[greeeengoblin]

“And… they lived happily ever after.” Tim turned to the little girl with black hair and blue eyes. They were both sitting on the swings in Gotham’s city park. Tim took a deep breath, letting the wind weave through his hair. He looked at the little girl. “Did you like the story?” he asked.

“It was nice,” the little girl replied, a grin stretching across her entire face. She held tightly to the swing's chains, looking up at Tim with a bright sparkle in her blue eyes. Her short legs barely touched the ground. “But I didn’t like it because the main character isn’t my dad.”

“You’re wrong,” Tim said, averting his gaze. “Your dad is the main character of this story. Do you know why? …Because this isn’t a fairytale—it’s a fable.”

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Tim cut him off with a small chuckle. “I don’t understand how you’re the top of your class. Honestly, I don’t think you’re that smart. You know as well as I do what’s going on here.” He clasped his hands behind his back and leaned closer to Jason. “Or has your dad been bribing all your teachers up until now, huh?”

Jason’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on Tim with burning fury. In a fit of small, erratic rage, he swept everything off the desk with his arms, sending it all crashing to the floor. Cassandra, who was more than familiar with her brother’s outbursts, only rolled her eyes in annoyance. Tim looked slightly taken aback but maintained his composure. Jason sneered at him, his mouth twitching. “Get out of my room, you disrespectful little brat.”

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“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I CAN’T TAKE IT!” Dick closed his eyes, covered his ears, and stood up. He wanted to break everything; he wanted to die.

“Why should I shut up? You didn’t seem too sad while doing it,” Jason smiled. “Why should I be sorry?”

Dick didn’t respond.

Jason stood up. “WHY SHOULD I BE SORRY??!”

“I’m sorry.” Dick swallowed hard.

Jason kept his eyes on the ground. “You can’t blame me for threatening you… You can’t blame me for what I’ve done. After everything you did to me… All I wanted was a brother. I didn’t want a fake big brother… I wanted a real…” Jason swallowed. “A real brother.” His body itched. He ran his hands through his hair, hating himself. “Tim… Damian… Damn it… Even Garfield! Why, when they’re all such good people… Why… WHY DID YOU HATE ME??!” Jason hit Dick in the chest in anger.

Dick squinted his eyes; he didn’t even feel pain when Jason hit him. In a single movement, he pulled Jason to his chest and hugged him tightly. Jason tried to push him away, but he couldn’t, he didn’t. Dick held him close. “I’m sorry… I’M SO SORRY.”

“NO!” Jason continued to cry. “Is this the only way you’ll love me? Sick and helpless, completely in need of care… WILL YOU LOVE ME IF I COMMIT SUICIDE? The only way to love me… to love me more than Tim is to threaten you?” Jason sank to the floor, his weak fingers still gripping Dick, tugging at his pants. “I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”

“Jason—”

“Every day…” Jason felt his breath hitch. “Every day you’ll regret not killing me that day…” Jason's breath began to slow, his eyes darkening, but he forced himself to speak, placing his hand on his heart and trying to breathe. “Every day…”

Dick noticed this and quickly crouched down beside Jason. “JASON—!”

Jason’s eyes slowly rolled back in his head.

“JASON!”

[greeeengoblin]

oh no.. Someone bullied me but they don't know I'm an Ao3 reader.

[greeeengoblin]

A few seconds later, Dick tried to stifle his sobs with a low grunt, glancing at Jason. Jason turned his head. "He ended his life... because of you." The words came out in a brief moment, but even that fleeting accusation was enough to make Dick’s brow furrow in anger. In a swift motion, he grabbed Jason's arm and pulled him close. Jason merely laughed, mocking him. "What’s the matter? Did that hurt? If it were me, I could’ve made him happy... This wasn’t some sudden suicide. You did this to him."

Dick's face twisted with fury. "What did you just say?"

"I said... you did this to him—"

Before Jason could finish, Dick pulled a gun from his pocket and pressed it against his own throat. It was an old but finely crafted model, one Jason instantly recognized. It was from the locked vault in the Batcave, a gun Dick had clearly brought with him for one reason: to end his own life. But Jason wasn’t fazed. The golden boy wouldn’t actually pull the trigger. He crossed his arms, his mouth twisted into an angry, sarcastic smirk, though he said nothing. His gaze was focused downward. Then, he lifted his blue eyes, locking them with Dick’s. “Don’t be stupid... Put that gun down,”Jason said, his voice tense but controlled. “Killing yourself won’t solve anything. It won’t change the fact that you took my father from me!”

“Don’t come any closer,” Dick’s body trembled slightly as he backed away, trying to maintain distance despite being so close. The cold metal of the gun pressed against his neck, reminding him how near he was to death, to seeing his father again, and it strangely comforted him. His icy blue eyes bore into Jason’s, his voice quiet but sharp. This was something that would remain between the two of them—no need for the girls, Tim, or Damian to know. “This wasn’t my fault... it was yours.”

Jason took another step forward, his eyes bloodshot, tears still refusing to fall. “Alright...” he said, his thoughts only on his brother now, not the blame. “Alright... was it my fault, okay?” He slowly extended his hand, trembling. “Don’t punish me like this, give me the gun.”

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Heyooo this bot is one of my favorite works! It has a story of almost 9000 words and its words may be the most coherent!!

But I have something much better in mind, I want to turn this bot into a fan fiction!! And I will write the story of the person who talks to this bot and comes up with the best scenario<3 You can send me your stories to my inboxxx :=D

[greeeengoblin]

Hood moved closer to the mirror, placing both hands on the edges of the full-length mirror, and looked carefully. His eyes narrowed as he examined the reflection. "What THE HELL does this mean?!?"

The other Jason (the one from the alternate universe) raised an eyebrow in confusion. He too was standing in front of a full-length mirror in his mansion, but the image before him had changed. His eyes widened in shock. His heart started pounding as he stared at the strange figure that appeared in his mirror. "W-what... what d-does this mean?"

Hood rolled his eyes. One of his hands slowly reached toward the mirror. His fingers were almost covered in blood and dirt. As he was about to touch the reflection, the other Jason (the one from the alternate universe) hesitated, but mimicked the same gesture. The boy in the mirror slowly brought his finger closer to his reflection.

Their fingers touched.

A vibration was felt.

A flash of light erupted.

And now, there were two Jasons in the same universe.

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CRY ..AND CRY

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JEZZZ

GİRL YOU'VE GONE OUT OF YOUR MINDS

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“I can’t believe you! And I’m not crazy! I’d prefer a regular prison,” Hood shot back as he threw crates at Nightwing. He couldn’t understand why Batman and the others were so set on locking him up in Arkham. After all, escaping from Arkham was easier for him. He was more suited for a regular prison. He wasn’t insane—he didn’t have ridiculous, harebrained schemes, unless you counted the occasional severed heads of crime lords’ second-in-commands in gym bags. And he definitely didn’t belong anywhere near Joker because he wasn’t Joker. “Just leave me alone! I’m helping you, and you don’t even see it!”

“This isn’t helping! You’re going to hurt people, and I don’t care what you say—you’re insane!” Nightwing easily dodged the crates, as they were being thrown haphazardly without focus, making it easier to evade them. “You could get better care in Arkham! You could get therapy to stop your urge to kill people, trust me!” Nightwing was practically shouting now, frustrated that Hood refused to listen and kept trying to escape.

“Like Joker and the others? Their sadism never went away, their madness and resolve never faded! Arkham’s not a place that helps anyone! IT’S ALREADY A ROTTING HELLHOLE THAT CONTAINS PEOPLE WHO’VE ALREADY LOST TO INSANITY!” Hood yelled, firing his gun at a crate covered in gas canisters. He slammed the door shut, locking himself in the basement below. Nightwing, realizing the gas was spreading, quickly put on his oxygen mask and started pounding on the door.

“Hood! Ja- HOOD! OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!”

Hood slammed the door with frustration. He could hear Dick’s angry shouts and the pounding of his boots against the walls echoing through the thick barrier. Hood removed his helmet, gasping in deep, uneven breaths as he looked around the basement. He’d never been down here before. The room was lined with mirrors—more than he’d expected. But it wasn’t the sheer number of mirrors that unsettled him. 

It was the fact that none of them showed his reflection.

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In an alternate universe, years ago, the Joker brutally beat the second Robin to death with a crowbar in an abandoned warehouse in Ethiopia, and then blew him up. Jason’s body was in a terrible, unrecognizable state, both from the fractures all over his body and the burns caused by the explosion. But he didn’t die. When Batman found him, he was still breathing—shallow, shaky breaths—but enough to prove his heart was still beating. Jason Todd survived that day, after undergoing a long and intense surgery and numerous medical procedures at Gotham General Hospital. His brain was fractured in countless places, and his body had numerous injuries that seemed beyond repair. It seemed nearly impossible for Jason to return to his former self—or even speak again. But he spoke.

Jason lay in a room that no longer looked like his old one, surrounded by hospital machines and monitors. One of his eyes was covered by a bandage, his body was wrapped in bandages, and his head ached like crazy, despite the morphine. He raised his delicate, IV-lined arm above his head and clenched his teeth to ease the pain. But his groans still escaped him. Hearing that Jason had woken up, Bruce rushed into the room. He gently removed Jason’s hand from his head and held it in his own, giving him a soft, loving look. But Jason’s mind was confused. No... it was filled with colors. He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say. He felt like he knew the man standing in front of him, but he didn’t.

“Who... Who are you, sir?” Jason managed to ask, his voice so soft that even he was surprised it came out at all. He pulled his hand away from Bruce’s and scratched his head again. His eyes scanned the room, filled with luxurious furniture and overwhelmingly scary hospital equipment. It frightened him.

Bruce pushed aside his shock. This was normal. It was entirely normal for Jason not to remember anything after what had happened. In fact, Bruce was just grateful that Jason’s head hadn’t exploded. Bruce gently took Jason’s hand again. “You’ve got a lot of stitches in your head, you need to be careful.” Bruce said. As for Jason’s question, Bruce wasn’t sure how to answer. It was actually a simple question, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. He couldn’t stomach reintroducing himself to someone he already knew so well.

"Stitches?" Jason's eyes widened. His breath was raspy as he spoke, and by the end of the sentence, he started coughing. Even his cough sounded thin and high-pitched. "What happened to me...?" he managed to say.

Bruce, seeing Jason start to cough, had already pressed the button to call Leslie. Putting Jason to sleep seemed like the easiest escape for now; Bruce didn’t feel ready to answer any questions. “We’ll talk about this later.” Bruce said, leaving the room just as Leslie entered. She injected a sedative into Jason's IV, causing his eyes to slowly close.

From that day on, Bruce never told Jason that he used to be Robin. Jason never learned that Bruce was Batman, or that Dick was Nightwing. He never learned about Tim, or Cassandra, or even Damian, Stephanie, and Duke, who joined the family later on. He lived like a normal young man. Bruce was happy to provide him with this because Jason was doing well from the start. If Jason had known he was Robin or about their identities, he would most likely have tried to prove himself and wanted to be Robin again.

But now, they didn’t have to stop him.

To Jason, Batman and Robin were just stories from children's books, and he knew nothing more. In fact, they didn’t really allow him to research it. At least, Jason was so preoccupied with college exams and more that he wasn’t really interested in digging into the events involving some man in a bat costume.

Seven years after the incident, Jason was now 20 years old. He had been accepted to the University of Oxford and returned to the manor for the summer break. His body was in better condition after years of physical therapy, but he was still very thin and short—probably the shortest one in the family. Due to damage to his eyes, he wore prescription glasses and struggled with seeing things up close. Additionally, a small patch of white hair remained in his bangs due to an iris condition, but it didn’t bother him. He couldn’t fully remember what his life had been like before this, but he knew he was happy and living a good life.

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sighs

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Hood moved closer to the mirror, placing both hands on the edges of the full-length mirror, and looked carefully. His eyes narrowed as he examined the reflection. "What THE HELL does this mean?!?"

The other Jason (the one from the alternate universe) raised an eyebrow in confusion. He too was standing in front of a full-length mirror in his mansion, but the image before him had changed. His eyes widened in shock. His heart started pounding as he stared at the strange figure that appeared in his mirror. "W-what... what d-does this mean?"

Hood rolled his eyes. One of his hands slowly reached toward the mirror. His fingers were almost covered in blood and dirt. As he was about to touch the reflection, the other Jason (the one from the alternate universe) hesitated, but mimicked the same gesture. The boy in the mirror slowly brought his finger closer to his reflection.

Their fingers touched.

A vibration was felt.

A flash of light erupted.

And now, there were two Jasons in the same universe.

[greeeengoblin]

I thought of an AU for you, yes, I have too many AU ideas and haven't brought any of them to life yet, but hear me out: what if little Jason Todd (almost 6 years old), during one of his periods of living on the streets, got brutally beaten by a group of bullies and was rushed to the hospital, and then, while the hospital staff were testing his blood, they discovered he was Bruce Wayne's biological son and notified him?

Jason also has scars from many other fights, a body as skinny as a skeleton, and a total nerd's brain when it comes to academics.

But the best part is, the nurses also notify Jason's biological mother, Sheila Haywood. And the first meeting between Bruce and Sheila is absolutely dripping with drama.

Sheila: Hi Bruce, I see you're still living off daddy's money.

Bruce: Oh, hello Sheila. At least I had a decent father, not a bunch of sugar daddies like you.

Sheila: Last time I checked, you were one of them.

Bruce: Last time I checked, you were more attractive.

Sheila: LAST TIME I CHECKED, YOU WEREN'T THIS OLD!

Bruce: AT LEAST I DON'T DYE MY HAIR LIKE YOU!