#Jason Todd needs to go back to being a crime lord | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sanguineterrain · 6 months ago

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Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.

OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy

****

The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.

It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.

And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.

You're realizing that you don't know him at all.

"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."

"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."

"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."

You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.

"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.

"Morocco."

"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.

"Ouch."

"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."

"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."

"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."

"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."

"Hood—"

He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.

"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."

"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."

"Is he also a crime lord?"

"Nah. Way better guy than me."

You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?

You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.

"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."

Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.

The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).

Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.

"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.

The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.

"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."

"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."

He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."

"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."

"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."

"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."

Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.

"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."

That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.

"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.

"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.

"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."

****

Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.

"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.

Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.

"I'm sure. Cute robe."

"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."

"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."

"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."

"Tempting."

You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"

"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.

"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble.

On your way to Hood's room, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.

Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.

You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.

"Did you get lost?"

Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.

"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."

"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."

"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.

Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.

"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.

"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"

You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"

"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."

"How did you call me out?"

He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."

"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."

"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"

You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."

"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."

"Like you?"

Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."

"And thank God for that."

You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.

"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."

"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."

"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."

"You flatterer."

You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."

You start to walk away.

"Do you—waffles?"

You stop and turn. "Sorry?"

"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.

"I love waffles for breakfast."

Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."

"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."

"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."

You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.

"Right. Well, goodnight," you say.

"G'night, smarty."

****

You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.

But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.

You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.

The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.

That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.

"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.

You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.

You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.

You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.

A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.

"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."

The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.

You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.

"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.

Your face screws up and you start to cry.

"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"

The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.

"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."

"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."

Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.

You clutch him tighter. He hums.

"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."

He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.

You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.

"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."

He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."

"You have a brother?"

"Four, actually. And a sister."

"Wow. Do they know you're...?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."

"Cool family."

Hood grunts. "They're... something."

You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."

"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."

You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.

"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.

You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."

"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."

Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.

"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.

He exhales like you punched the air out of him.

"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."

You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."

"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."

You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."

"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."

"Brave or stupid?" you ask.

"Brave. But it's a fine line."

Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.

What are you doing?

"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"

You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."

"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"

"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."

"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."

Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.

His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.

The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.

Your belly flutters. Fuck.

This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.

#Jason todd x reader #Jason todd x you #Red Hood x reader #Red Hood fanfiction #red Hood x you #Jason todd fanfiction #Jason todd imagine #red Hood imagine #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #jason todd x yn #red Hood x yn #gender neutral reader #inbox #blurb

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daydreamerwonderkid · 1 year ago

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Me, after doing 15 minutes of excessive googling on every Batfam member's birthday only to then realize I've accidentally missed the majority of them this year, and then also finding out that people are still aggressively debating over whether Bruce's birthday is April 7 or February 19, Dick's birthday happens 3-6x throughout the year, and Stephanie might have just popped into existence for all that DC cares:

Batfam birthday dates btw for anyone who needs them are listed beneath the cut:

DISCLAIMER: DC is notorious for being super inconsistent with everything and I am a mere tadpole caught in the tidal wave of DC's ocean. This post will be regularly updated with edits and corrections so please do not use it as word of law, I am begging you.

Update (8/24/23): To keep things more simple and easier for everyone I am going to start categorizing the birth dates I've collected into 3 categories.

-Most popular: Self-explanatory. These are the birth dates that have been canonized and confirmed by DC and are also more wildly celebrated by the fandom. Typically, this should be the first result you see when you google the character's birthday. But not always because DC sucks ass.

-Other date(s): These are the additional birth dates I come across that have been canonized in some form with multiple sources, but are not as wildly celebrated or popularized by DC and/or the fandom. Why am I including them here? Mostly because I don't want people coming in saying I forgot a date. But also because if I have to see this mess, then y'all have too as well.

-Potential but unconfirmed date(s): This is where I will put all the other additional dates I find, but specifically those that are lacking in complete sources or seem to be highly debated and scrutinized.

Also fun emoji ranking guide for me and me alone:

👑👑: Queen Shit. Characters with a consistent and simple birth date(s). Can absolutely do no wrong.

👑😮‍💨: In the Running. Characters who don't have a set birth date, but the mess is minor and completely DC's fault. They shouldn't have to be punished for DC's crimes.

🤡🤡: Gtfo. Shit is so inconsistent and stupidly messy that it's making me lose my shit. I'm putting DC and the characters on trial for this bullshit.

👑Alfred Pennyworth👑

Most popular: August 18

Other date(s): June 27 or August 10

Potential but unconfirmed date(s): September 19 (fml)

(Yes, I'm including Terry, fuck you lol

Also SERIOUSLY WTF is up with so many of these August birthdays!!!! Fuck, was everyone just getting crazy BUSY in November!!!! What's going on in the DC universe that is making November of all months the HORNY MONTH????!!!!)

(Mini update ((8/18/23)): Well, I just found out that apparently June 27th 2023 is also a highly debated birth date for Terry. As is August 10 2023/2024 and August 18 2023/2024. I even saw a mention of September 19 2023, but I don't know how credible that source actually is. I'm just putting it here because I'm losing my mind and I don't want someone to pop in and say I forgot it omfg I'm dying

I'm just ... why? Why is it so hard to just commit to one month and one date. I'm not even concerned about the exact year. Just commit to ONE, man.

Excuse me while I march over to DC HQ and burn the whole place to the ground iswtfg)

Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on any of these. I have a massive headache now and am open to any suggestions or clarifications y'all have to offer.

Also, I'm going to fist fight Dick in a Denny's parking lot.

Update (8/17/23): So a mini post that I meant to use as a way to vent how insane Dick was making me somehow blew up way more than I ever expected it to, and now I feel obligated to clarify again that I am open to any corrections and additional info that anyone has to offer.

I'm saying this because I've noticed people reblogging this post for actual Batfam bday references and someone already pointed out I fucked up Tim's bday and now I feel bad for everyone who reblogged this post prior to that edit.

It's probably just the anxiety talking, but yeah I just wanted to put that out there.

Also justice for Stephanie Brown! She deserves to have her own special day and if I have to bully DC into giving her a canon birthday, then you bet your ass I fucking will.

(And to all of y'all who are encouraging Dick to keep running his side scam business, I just have this to say: There's an empty Denny's parking lot somewhere out there just waiting for you, too lol)

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ghost-bxrd · 5 months ago

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Saw the Phoenix!Jason possibility mentioned... Thought of a more hilarious/traumatizing version.

Phoenix Tim. Dick's Baby Bird.

As in, if he dies, he'll just come back to life in a few minutes, all former injuries healed.

Tim being Tim, he's gonna use the resurrection ability to skip having to stay in bed and recuperate, giving the Batfam multiple panic attacks.

They are still trying to talk him out of it when Hood turns up...

The Titans Tower attack happens.

As in canon, Tim loses the initial round and flee to another room, injured.

Well. His hand is broken, he can't fight a crime lord with a broken arm. Plus, come on, that's gonna be a major hazzle, Dick and Bruce will fuzz over him for a month!

He knows how to fix this, right?

Jason, following him in dramatic slow motion, is just in time to see Tim shoot/stab himself dead.

The revival takes a few minutes... And Jason has absolutely no idea about the Phoenix Part.

Fun times : )

G A S P

Counter offer, they’re both phoenixes but none of them knew that about Jason because he was always terrified of dying! (No clue how the Ethiopia part works but hear me out on further angst first!)

and when he comes back to confront Tim he obviously doesn’t know just how good he was replaced.

And then Tim stabs himself and Jason just blanks, all his rage forgotten because he just wanted to beat the kid up a little. He never wanted him to die.

So we have Jason frantically trying to staunch the blood flow, trying and failing to shift enough to grab even a single feather that might save the kid (*gestures because phoenix magic*), asking Tim again and again “Why would you do that!?” without waiting for an answer because the kid is bleeding out.

And Tim is just so confused because… isn’t this what Hood wanted? Why is he panicking? And also, shit, he should have stabbed somewhere else because this hurts like a bitch.

And then Jason can’t breathe because he thinks he’s the cause a teenager felt scared enough to commit suicide rather than face him, and he can’t get the bleeding to stop, and being a phoenix is useless if he can’t even shift to save him. But- but he can give the kid some comfort in his last moments. He can do that much.

And Tim totally thinks his brain is going bye-bye when Hood takes off the helmet and it’s Jason Todd cradling and crying over him, apologizing over and over and— oh no, ohhhh no, Tim screwed up big time. This is bad. He needs to let Jason know it will be okay. That Tim will be okay. That it was a mistake!

But Jason isn’t listening and Tim is doomed to die for a couple minutes and good gods does he hope Jason will stick around until he wakes back up because if Tim gets this one chance to give the Batfam their happy ending only to have it slip through his fingers because he chose to ignore Batman’s “Do NOT kill yourself over every minor inconvenience!”, he’s going to… he doesn’t even know.

Please, gods, please let Jason stick around…

(Honestly this works even without Jason being a phoenix but look I’m attached to the image of Jason deliberately walking into explosions after the whole Ethiopia thing and making everyone have several hundred flashbacks)

#phoenix #musings #jason todd #Tim drake #titans tower au #creatures #mythology

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agent-sushi-fbi · 2 months ago

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NEW POST ON AO3!!

This was a prompt by @kittyfrisk9 from last year that we traded back and forth. I finally got around to finishing editing it and posting! I hope you enjoy!!

Something that Danny never thought he would be agreeing with in his afterlife? Jazz’s trashy romance books that she thought she could hide behind psychology textbooks in high school. They all seemed to have the same message that he didn’t realize was more than trying to reel in single moms at the checkout counter.

Love is complicated.

How did he know? Because Danny had inevitably fallen for his handsome and cool neighbor: Jason Todd. The problem though? His neighbor was dating the equally handsome (rumored at least, since he never takes the helmet off) and badass vigilante: Red Hood.

His heart had broken instantly upon hearing the news. Dramatic response, he knew, but he was dead so he figured he could get away with it. So, to get over his now dramatically broken heart, Danny decides to drink his sorrows away with the millennium-year-old wine that Princess Dorathea had sent him recently.

Unfortunately, he drank too much of it (he was so used to the light buzz of human stuff that he wasn’t prepared) and apparently ghostly alcohol is capable of what human made alcohol isn’t. Actually getting him drunk off his ass.

That’s how a drunken Danny somehow found himself on top of the apartment complex’s roof late at night, finding Red Hood most likely at the end of his patrol. The man himself, Danny’s love rival. His eyes narrowed as the vigilante noticed Danny, freezing like a kid with their hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar. He watched Red Hood stand up straight, arms crossed as he put on an air of intimidation. Observing him up close, it was even worse than he feared, Danny couldn’t even object to Jason’s decision to date the infamous anti-hero. Comparing the two of them, Red Hood is Red Hood and bigger than life–whereas Danny was just…Danny, the scrawny weirdo down the hall.

Oh…

Danny felt the tears building as a pressure flooded his chest. Upset, all he could do was try to hold back the waterworks in front of the other man. Was he doing it? Numbly, Danny reached up a hand to his face and felt his wet cheeks. Oh, Ancients damnit, now he’s crying in front of the crime lord.

The vigilante seemed to panic at his tears, the man's cool intimidation all but forgotten. He tried to calm Danny down by saying whatever nice and nonsensical things tumbled out of his mouth, but it just ended up making Danny cry harder without meaning to.

Jason, on the other hand, officially hated himself for being unable to do anything at the sight of tears before him. How did he manage to make his pretty and tender-hearted neighbor cry?

Suddenly, a drunk Danny screams out, “It’s all your fault!” His tears were finally slowing down, but he was sniffling so loudly it broke Jason’s heart to hear. But once Red Hood processed what Danny said, he froze. What exactly was his fault in this situation?

Danny continues, not paying any mind to the statue of Red Hood standing before him. “Y-you…he loves you! Silly, silly…why did he have to like you ? I love him more!” Danny continues to sniffle, readily ugly crying and not caring how pathetic he looked in front of the Red Hood.

Oh, that’s the problem. Jason feels his body go very still, his mind racing as the other man cries helplessly. His Danny is in love with some fucking bastard that isn’t him, and said fucking bastard is apparently in love with ‘Red Hood’. Which left Jason feeling like a truck ran him over and spun his heart under the wheels.

He absolutely, one-hundred-percent, does not and would not share feelings for anyone else, especially if Danny was crying for said “in love with a crime lord” bastard. He isn't even worth Danny’s tears . Jason briefly lets the thought linger on if it would be right to punch the guy Danny likes in the face. He needs a new punching bag anyway, this douche could be a nice replacement.

Danny’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, focusing on the man’s ruddy face again, a prominent pout at being ignored making Jason’s heart flutter. God, what was it about this guy that tugged at his heart so much?

Danny stomped his foot, annoyed and drunkenly thinking the vigilante had silently dismissed the conversation. “Jason loves you ,” he felt his lower lip wobble. “You should say those words to him because I can’t! He deserves to know he’s loved!” Danny shook his head at Hood, swaying slightly. Excuse me, what did you just say? “Silly Hood, you’re so lucky, did you know…?”

Jason gaped in shock as Danny’s voice trailed off, the latter obviously losing some of his fire from before as the alcohol started making him tired. But hold on a second, by “Jason” did Danny mean him ? Jason Todd?

“Yes!” Oh, he seemed to have asked the name out loud, because his pretty neighbor responded with a broken voice.

Ha. Fuck.

Jason feels his brain short circuit. He just cannot process this. So, the reason why his neighbor never paid any attention to his flirting wasn’t because he was disinterested in him? It was because Danny thought that he already had a partner and probably thought he was just being friendly? That he (Jason) was dating himself (Red Hood). Oh god, Danny was such a lovable idiot.

Jason knew he should have stopped those rumors from spreading right from the start, that way this misunderstanding wouldn’t have wreaked havoc on his love life. On the other hand, seeing his adorable neighbor looking like a disheveled drunk, declaring his feelings for him made Jason’s heart melt a little bit.

“Do you think that I am dating…Jason Todd?” His voice is serious, but still shocked from this revelation, though it’s probably not noticeable through his mask’s voice modulator.

Danny nods solemnly from a few feet away, lips still twisted in a pout. Jason smirks even though Danny can’t see it and tells him, “It’s just a rumor.”

He’s amused by the way Danny’s head snaps up and surprise fills his bright blue eyes. He’s so adorable while drunk that Jason isn’t sure how he would be coping without a mask covering his expressions. “Just like you, I already have someone I like. But I can promise, it’s not Jason Todd.”

He swore he could see sparkles in the man’s eyes. “So you’re absolutely not dating Jason?” Oh boy. “I can go out with him? I can tell him how much I like him?”

Jason laughs internally, “You should do it, see how it goes.” While he returns to his safe house quickly, after all, it seems he will soon be receiving a very important declaration of love.

This was the best day of his life, goddamn.

Unfortunately, his confession won’t be coming tonight because immediately after he received his ‘go ahead’, Danny trips over his feet and falls to the ground. Harder than expected apparently, since when Jason hurried over to check on him he was delirious and close to passing out. Though, that might have been more the alcohol than anything else.

Jason sighs, resigned to the fact that he’ll have to wait until Danny is sobered up tomorrow. Granted, that's even if he remembers any of this conversation after all. Oh fuck, Jason hoped he remembers otherwise they’ll be back to square one.

Picking up his (now) cute boyfriend, he carefully places the man on his back so his long arms drape over Jason’s shoulders and he had to hold onto Danny’s butt to keep him in place (not that he’s complaining). They were almost to the access to the stairwell when he heard Danny murmuring, so he slowed his steps to keep his heavy boots from drowning out what Danny was saying.

“Jason…marry me please…”

Jason choked. He cleared his throat a couple of times and shifted Danny around a little. He felt the other man’s hot breath and lips on his neck, but focused on safely getting them down the stairs instead.

Projecting a little confidence into his voice, Jason responded, “Haha, how about you ask me on a date first?” He knew there would be no answer, his boyfriend was already in the world of his dreams but he had to get the last word in.

He absolutely will never let Danny ever forget this moment.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #batpham #dp x dc crossover #ao3 #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #protective jason todd #danny x jason #dead on main

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igotanidea · 9 months ago

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Voices: Jason Todd x reader

Dreaming was good.

Dreaming was nothing less of a perfect when she could feel his warm body next to her. The strong, protective embrace of his arms wrapped around her.

Or even if they got into a fight and were angry at each other - it was calming knowing that Jason was right beside, just a touch away. Even if he flinched and scoffed at the gentle move of her fingers on his back or shoulders. sooner or later he always relented and they worked through whatever shit was going on.

Together.

But dreaming was not always good.

Not when she woke up in the middle of the night, brutally torn from the very vivid and very real nightmare of Jason's dead, lifeless body in her arms. His blood on her hands and face. His empty, cold eyes. His emotionless face.

NO!!

The jolt was so sudden that even her cat, sleeping peacefully in the foot of the bed run away form her, leaving poor girl completly alone.

alone.

Going to bed alone. Every night.

Waking up alone. Every morning.

Deprived of his touch, his kisses, his love and affection.

Any affection.

And maybe she was acting like a whiny baby, but she needed him with her. Not out there. Not fighting crime lords or whatever villain might have shown his face at Gotham.

3 am....

Please come back home....

4 am,

5 am.....

Was he injured? Was he bleeding, hurt, scared? Maybe he took off running? Maybe he got back together with one of his exes? Artemis? Kori? Rose?

Maybe she wasn;t good enough for him? Maybe he realised he actually wanted some badass vigilante chick with toned muscles, sharp tongue, fiery attitude? Maybe he wanted someone hot?

She wasn't hot.

She was a wimp, shuddering in the cold, empy bed desperately craving her boyfriend presence. Be it bruised or in bad mood, but please --

Please come home.

I'll be better, I'll do better, I'll improve.

I'll be what you want me to be, just please don't leave me.

So far from what a modern woman should be, right? Codependent, fragile, weak, vulnerable, pathetic.

Or maybe just in love with a vigilante.

How did it happen that she got from worrying about him to questioning her whole lonely exsistence in 10 minutes?

He doesn;t want you.

You're ugly.

You're fat.

You're unnatractive.

You really thought he would stay with you? did you already imagine the real-life play-pretend with him? White dress? Picket white fence? Familiy?

You stupid little girl.

He doesn;t want you, he never wanted you, he won't ever want you.

"SHUT UP!!!" she cried out in frustration, tears rolling down her face as her demons started to prey on her like on a Goya painting "Shut up! shut up! shut up!" she shook violently.

"Are you talking to me now?" a familiar voice and the sound of discarded red helmet echoed in her head "Damn Y/N! If there's anything you learned during those years it's definitely developing a good hearing-- Baby?" Jason became alarmed the second he took in her state. "Baby? Y/N? What happened? WHO HURT YOU?!"

It was impossible for Jason to keep his cool when he saw her crying. The first thought popping into his head being someone did something to her. Someone caused this. And the fact that it was 5 a.m. and most people were sleeping and that there was no one but them in their apartment slipped his mind, clouded by the incoming wave of rage

"Give me the name baby.' he took a few step forwards, kneeling on the floor next to bed and cupping her chin forcing her eyes on him "tell me who did this to you."

"You did!" she sobbed

"I--" holy fuck! In his blinding fury and the sudden need for revenge he didn't realise she could be sheding those crocodlie tears because of him.

"Why are you leaving me?" she sobbed

"Why am I --?" Y/N was not making any sense right now "I'm not--"

"Liar!" the girl yelled with surprising strength given her fragile state "You think she's hot, don't you?"

"Who?"

"Your ex!"

"My ex? Y/N, princess, why don't you calm down and--"

"I AM COMPLETLY CALM!" now Jason was almost sure that the neighbours were already up, ready to impale them both on pitchforks and uncovering his secret identity.

"Ok, ok, baby..." he raised his hands in surrender, observing her every move and slightest change in face expression.

This was new. This was something he wasn;t entirely sure of how to proceed with. Out of all the opponents he had to fight never in his mind would he thought that his girlfiriend would be the most challenging.

Was this an attack of hysteria? A panic attack? An anxiety fit?

Jason was way too familiar with all that.

What if it was him? What would she do if he woke up in the middle of the night, jittery for no particular reason? What could possibly be helpful?

And then it dawned on him.

And it all happened at once.

Bed dipping, his weight on her, his hands on her body, his breath on her face and the all-encompasing smell of blood, gunpowder and cigatettes.

Soft caress of her hair.

Gentle peck on her nose.

Developing too fast to give her any time to object, not that she wanted to.

"I got you." he whispered pulling her closer to his chest, not caring about the bruise that was already forming on his right side and that cut on his forearm. She was more important now. "I got you, baby, I got you..." he kissd her forehead warming and calming her by the mass of muscles and bythe rapid but steady beating of his heart.

she was still shaking but the firm yet gentle grip on her refused to let go untill it all subsided. Steading her, anchoring her in reality. Helping her realise that whatever her traitorous mind suggested had nothing to do with actuallity. Even if it took days, weeks, years, Jason was not going to move, keeping her pinned to his chest until being full certain she was back to him, having her full attention.

"Do you think I'm ugly....?" she muttered causing him to laugh, the movement of his body causing vibrations.

"I think you should get some proper rest. Otherwise the next thing you're going to ask me is going to be that "if i was a worm..." question."

"Bbut if I was a worm would you--?"

"Hush, woman!" he cut her off with the cheesiest smile "I had a rough night and need to sleep. Which means you are stuck with me for as long as I please."

"are you--?"

"I said, hush woman." he tightened the hold on her, preventing her from squirming and moving too far. "you're my body pillow now, accept your fate."

"are you hurt?" she whispered

"I'm perfect." he whispered back, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Making all the hateful voices in her head shut up. Bringing in the silence and peace.

But the talk he was going to give her in the morning would be a capital letter one.

Ugly.

Huh. She had no idea what measures he was going to resort to proving her wrong...

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

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theodorecanaryhood · 10 months ago

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Dangerous Villain

Jason Todd x Male reader

Yes, yet another JT x Male reader fic, I can’t get enough of these

Warning: swearing, unprotected rough sex, mentions of blood and death

The blood stains were a struggle to wash out of his white shirt, Jason sat with a smile as the blood was splattered on his face.

Knuckles raw and red, body aching from the fight, the blood from his enemies covered him. Jason ripped his blood soaked shirt from his body. Throwing it into the fireplace.

His knife was covered in blood, his gun was empty as it had been used to its limits tonight.

Jason showed up to the smuggling ring undercover as a Crime Lord, only to take everyone out in seconds.

The smuggling ring was children and Jason saw red, black in his eyes as he killed all the men. Red Hood was retired tonight as Jason took over as himself.

Knowing a risk of being spotted, he left no one alive. He made sure of it.

The black shirt and pants pressed against Jason’s form, as he attended the gala, a recent one that Bruce was organising for Wayne Enterprises. Jason only went for the free drinks, not being in great speaking terms with his father.

You were sat next to Jason as he held your hand, your smaller form sat neatly on the chair as Jason held you in place. Pride on Jason’s face to call you his, and only his.

Jason is a jealous type and you were fully aware, Jason liked his boyfriend to know his place. To know that you are Jason’s, no one is allowed to look at you. Not the way Jason does.

Jason isn’t violent towards you, he would never. But he is dangerous, dark, and can switch sides if provoked.

You know better than to question Jason’s authority, he is your master.

So many times Jason has walked into your shared bedroom and demanded you take him in, Jason has had a rough night of patrol, or even just horny.

Tonight is no exception as you sat in a suit, shirt not done all the way up so Jason can glance at your chest every so often.

Jason had lust in his eyes as he took in your form, seeing that an older man was looking at you. Jason gave him a death stare.

You sat by the bar as the older, well dressed, rich snobby type man came over to you. A chance he’d sought after once you were alone.

‘Can I buy you a drink?’ The older man asked, you being a polite man, simply smiled.

‘No thank you, sir’ you replied, taking your attention back to your drink.

‘I’m Matthew, Lord Matthew. I own half of Metropolis Estate, along with 15% of Gotham, hopefully after tonight’ he bragged, you nodded.

‘Congratulations, you must be proud’ you responded, politely but not being too open to a conversation.

‘I noticed you earlier, you’re friends with Mr Wayne?’ The man asked, you nodded again.

‘Yeah, I’m dating his son’

‘Well, if you ever want an older man, more experience and money. Here’s my number’ the older man said, handing his number to you on a business card.

Jason appeared and took the card out of the man’s hand.

‘Thanks, but he has everything he needs already. My dick being one of them, which still works unlike yours’ Jason snarked.

The older man took offence as he snatched his card back.

‘I only give these to people that deserve my attention, which you do not, young man’ The older man barked back.

Jason’s fist clenched as he tried hard not to punch him in the face. Jason promised you he would behave tonight, but this man was trying his luck.

‘Y/n, go wait in the car’ Jason said as he took out his keys, handing them to you.

Jason didn’t take his eyes off of this man, black in his eyes again as the older man smiled smugly.

‘He has a nice ass’ the older man said as he spanked you, you shot your head around.

Before you could register anything the man had tumbled into a stack of glasses, holding his nose that was now bloodied.

Jason’s fist was red as he’d obviously punched the older man. Jason smiled a little as he grabbed your hand and walked you outside to his car.

The drive home was a rush as Jason hit speeds he would usually avoid, he charged through the streets in his Mustang.

Jason was charged with adrenaline and rage as he got you both home, Jason ordered you in the house.

‘Get in, wait for me in the bedroom’ Jason ordered as he locked the car doors.

You walked toward the bedroom as your heart pounded. Your heart thumped so hard you couldn’t hear anything else.

Jason’s form appeared in the bedroom doorway as he threw you on the bed, ripping your shirt off.

You grabbed onto Jason and kissed him as he held onto your face, feeling heat coming from his crotch.

You shuddered as Jason took off his clothes, peeling the rest of yours off.

‘Who do you belong to?’ Jason asked, hard as he stared in your eyes.

‘You’ you responded quick, Jason raised his eyebrows.

‘Who?’ He asked again, harsher than before as he applied pressure to your throat.

‘You Master’ you responded, feeling yourself getting hard.

Jason pushed you down as he yanked your hair, biting your neck.

He rolled you onto your front as he pushed himself inside you. Raw, with no warning.

‘I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t fucking walk again, maybe then you’ll remember that you fucking belong to me’ Jason growled as he pumped into you.

You clawed at the bedsheets as Jason stuffed himself deep inside you, pulling your hair again as he kissed the top of your head. Jason then placed his hand on the back of your head, pushing it into the pillow.

‘This is what happens when you don’t obey me, you get fucked raw. Do you like misbehaving?’ Jason roared as he slammed into you quickly, you moaning underneath as your back shivered.

‘No master, I’ll behave’ you panted as Jason’s dick filled you up from behind.

Jason was hitting so hard that the bed would’ve surely broke into pieces. The force of his manhood was surely going to tear you in half.

‘I don’t believe you, this is your punishment, you are mine and you won’t fucking obey me. This is your punishment’ Jason panted as he continued to pump deep inside you.

His throbbing length ached for release as Jason thrusted even faster and harder, his seed spilled into you as you felt it swim inside you.

‘Fuck’ Jason called out as he emptied his load.

You lay on your front trying to catch your breath as you felt Jason pull out of you, your brain seemed to be switched off as you couldn’t register anything for at least a minute.

‘Clean yourself up, slut’ Jason ordered as he stood up and threw a towel at you.

Jason left the room to use the shower as you grabbed the towel, wiping yourself up as you felt Jason’s seed dribble out of your hole.

You stood and looked at yourself in the mirror as you saw Jason’s teeth marks on your body, red marks where he had grabbed. Areas of your body that Jason had marked for you to remember, remember who you belong to.

Jason was angry that another man had touched you, he was angry that you entertained the idea you were noticed. Jason would never be angry at you, hurt you on purpose or even assault you.

It was these moments that you actually felt more love than ever from Jason, a man who was so dominating and overpowering. It was why you stayed.

Jason loves you, no doubt about it, but he just hates that men still think they can try it with you.

The first time this happened you almost shit yourself.

It was in a bar and a man asked for your number, not realising Jason is your boyfriend. Jason got so angry that he drove you both home, he didn’t speak to you the whole way and you thought you’d done something.

Jason lifted his hand to run through his hair, but you flinched the second Jason’s hand raised. His eyes shot wide as he looked at you, realising what you thought of him.

Jason gave you the chance to leave then and there, but you didn’t. You stayed, and every time a man looks at you, Jason has to remind you that you’re his.

Jason was smiling at you as he pulled you into bed with him, holding you in his arms as the two of you slept. A moment to last all night, where both of you wanted to remain. With each other.

#red hood #gotham #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #rough kink #bd/sm master

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fanfic-obsessed · 3 months ago

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Mental Break

Despite the title I think this will be a funnier one. As a reminder, disregard anything in canon (if such a creature even exists for DC) that contradicts this.

We start with Jason Todd, the Red Hood. He comes to Gotham having been manipulated by Talia Al Ghul to believe that Jason had been easily replaced by Tim Drake as Robin. That Bruce likely never loved him.

We are sometime in that strange time after Red Hood delivers his bag of heads, but before anyone knew he was Jason Todd. He had plans to attack his replacement, but wanted more intel first.

He tracks down his replacement and douses him with something aerosolized that would induce truthfulness for a short time and asks/shouts at him to find out why Tim took the mantle of Robin. Tim answers with something to the effect of ‘It was the only option’. Now what Tim means is Gotham needs Batman, and Batman needs Robin, and nobody else was stepping up. What Red Hood heard was that Bruce was forcing this child to be Robin, that there was some kind of hostage situation going on (Much later, whenever this story is told, Bruce gets an aggrieved, tired look and says ‘I was the hostage in this situation’).

Somehow this twists through the Pit Madness until Jason is convinced that it was not that Bruce replaced Jason with Tim and that Bruce never loved Jason. Instead he comes to believe that Jason's death broke Bruce so badly that he believes that Tim is Jason. That Bruce kidnapped a neighborhood kid and forced him into the Robin costume so that Bruce did not have to face his son being dead. Tim is, of course, just trying to survive what must be a terrifying and surreal experience. It also gives Jason a good explanation why the Joker is still alive (Killing the Joker for Killing Jason means admitting Jason is dead). Jason manages to hack into the bat computer and get some, but not all, of the videos of Tim’s training and nothing that he got dissuades this belief. Particularly since many of the early videos have Bruce drunk, calling Tim Jason, and being unnecessarily rough (Some of which was deliberate to try to get Tim to quit). He also manages to miss any evidence that Alfred knew anything about Tim being Robin, so he thinks that Alfred, in his own grief, is missing the whole ass child that Bruce has apparently kidnapped.

So now instead of planning a confrontation between Batman and the Joker he is considering the implications of Bruce finding out Jason’s identity. He is asking himself if it would break Bruce further, if Bruce would hurt Tim for ‘pretending’ to be Robin/Jason, if Bruce would even believe Jason.

To the confusion of all the Bats, Red Hood’s entire personality abruptly seemed to shift. He was still a crime lord, still killing. However, before he had clearly hated the Bats, now anytime he crossed paths with either Batman or Robin he asked strange, aggressive yet concerned questions about their well being and mental health.

Even more hilariously, Red Hood goes to Nightwing and (after proving that he really was Jason Todd) convinces Dick of this belief. Dick thinks back to his own first interaction with Tim, where Tim was trying to convince him to come back, and comes to the, entirely incorrect, conclusion that this actually supported Jason's theory. Dick reframes the conversation in his head until it seems as though Tim was asking for Dick to rescue him instead of what was actually happening. He is also only rarely in Gotham so cannot think of a single instance that disproves Jason’s theory.

What happens next can only be described as Shenanigans.

Batman, and Robin are trying to figure out why Nightwing is suddenly working with the Crime Lord Red Hood. Also why Batman calling Tim Robin in the field makes him flinch. He keeps refusing to come back to the Cave or the Manor (because Dick is sure he will spill the beans about Jason and is afraid that will break Bruce further) and is possibly trying to lure Robin away. In addition Nightwing keeps asking really weird questions about where Tim is sleeping and how he is getting food and is he going to school.

Nightwing and Red Hood are trying to figure out (subtly, a term which neither actually have any grasp on) how deep Bruce's delusions go, how much Tim understands about what is going on, and how to get Tim away from Bruce long enough to get them all some help. Plus trying to find a therapist specifically for Tim (whom they assume is going to be deeply traumatized out of all this).

Just all around Shenanigans.

#batman #nightwing #red hood #jason todd #tim drake robin #richard grayson #batfam #ressurection #misunderstandings #humor

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vaguely-greenish · 2 months ago

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Continuing on from that Robin Only AU because it will not get out of my head.

So, Starro attacks and attempts to conquer earth, enthralling many of it’s most powerful heroes but overlooking the young heroes who work alongside those heroes. This group, later known as The Titans defeat the conqueror, free their mentors and the world, and banish the would be ruler to the Phantom Zone thanks to Supergirl.

During this crisis, when all seemed lost Supergirl told the tale of the Kryptonian heroes Flamebird and Nightwing to inspire the group and this story stuck with Dick in particular. After this battle Dick sheds the title of Robin, moving on from his quest for vengeance, and dons the name Nightwing.

After a fight with disgraced former hypnotherapist Harleen Quinzel, better known as the villainous Yo-Yo, Nightwing finds his ‘Nightcycle’ missing it’s wheels and after some digging finds them in the possession of an orphan not much younger than himself, Jason Todd.

Seeing a glimmer of himself and what he could have become, Dick let’s Jason go with the wheels but quickly finds that Jason is just one of many Orphan’s manipulated by Black Mask and his Falseface Gang.

With Oracle’s help he tracks down the heart of Black Mask’s criminal empire and foolishly rushes in, angered by the manipulation of these kids. After a drawn out fight, Dick finds himself on the back foot and one wrong move away from losing it all, until the thunk of a crowbar against the crime lord’s mask gives him the opening he needs to strike and leave the villain unconscious.

Jason Todd looks down at the criminal and then back at the crowbar in his hands and then to the hero he’d stolen from. An anonymous tip comes through to the Wayne Foundation about a group of orphaned youths in need of help.

Within the hour many of the teens are being taken to the Leslie Thompkins home for forsaken children, except for Jason who finds himself at Nightwing’s hidden hideout, The Aviary, ready to don the mantle of Robin. While elsewhere The Court of Owls fumes over the loss of their puppet’s criminal ring and plots against Nightwing.

#batman #dc comics #batfamily #dick grayson #au #dc robin #nightwing #jason todd #barbara gordon #oracle #alfred pennyworth #dc titans #teen titans

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kit04kat · 2 months ago

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Ranking the batfamily most to least likely to become a supervillian. (Plus all my ramblings about why I put who where [disclaimer, i have not read the comics due to me not having that kind of money]) I started thinking about this while reading a fanfiction where Dick, Jason and Tim were taken in by villians instead of Batman and it got me thinking. Anyways, let's get to the rankings.

1: Tim Drake. Starting off strong with our resident boy-genius with stalker tendencies. This may shock some of you, but I look at this human disaster and see a plethora of supervillian potential. You take away this man's adult supervision and the world may never be the same. What was happening with the league of assassins? And the fact that he tried to clone his best friend out of grief? Also I feel like we all skimmed over the fake uncle shenanigans too quickly. I once saw someone say something like Tim's moral code is copy-pasted off a house rules sticky note on the fridge and I agree.

2: Jason Todd. Seriously, we all saw this coming. Now, you might ask me, "but Kat, why is Jason at number 2? Didn't Red Hood already do the villian thing?" And to that I say, Ha! I am ranking them on supervillianiousness(???) Jason had his whole revenge plot and crime lord thing in Gotham but after that was done, he kinda settled out a little bit. So no, I don't think Jason has ever been a supervillian, just a villian, and after that he was more like an antihero/vigilante. That being said, I don't think he is incapable of being a supervillian, which is why he is number 2.

3: Stephanie Brown. Ok, I'm gonna be honest, I was really wavering on the order of the people in the middle. Also, I'm not gonna claim to know a whole lot about the adventures Steph has been through. That being said, I feel like she is just a tad bit more unhinged than the rest of the people in the middle, and therefore more likely to go insane. And if she had the proper motivation, she could totally be a badass supervillian. (Kind of reminds me of Jason in that way)

4: Damian Wayne. Alright, here's the thing. A lot of Damian's character development has been about him overcoming his heritage and learning that the things he learned with the league of assassins were bad. That being said, I don't think he will ever leave behind those ideologies as thoroughly as Cass and Bruce did. I think he sees the world in a lot more shades of grey than they ever will, and because of that, I've decided to put him forth on our list.

5: Barbara Gordon. I'm putting Oracle right smack dab in the middle. Not because I couldn't figure out where to put her, but because that's where she belongs. Listen, do I think she would ever become a supervillian? No, not really. However, if for some reason she had to become a supervillian, she'd be able to do it. If she ever turned to the dark side, it would be completely thought out. Calculated. And my girl doesn't do anything half-assed.

6: Duke Thomas. Now, Imma be honest, I don't know a whole lot about Duke, and I didn't really know where the best place to put his would be on this lineup. I put him in 6th cause I don't think he'd turn into a supervillian but he's more likely than the last three. He probably deserves to go further up the list, but oh well.

7: Bruce Wayne. I know some people will probably say he should be further up the list, but here is my reasoning. Batman's whole kinda thing is that he's always toeing the line. He's doesn't kill because he knows he wouldn't be able to stop. He is Darkness, Vengeance, the night, all that stuff. (It's why Batman needs a Robin) If he broke, he'd be broken. I don't think he'd be able to come back from that (I also disagree with myself a bit, cause there's no way his kill count is 0. I mean, he's been beating people up at night instead of therapy for decades) Anyways, that being said, man is stubborn and has been doing this vigilante stuff for a longggg time. I simply don't think he's gonna turn.

8: Dick Grayson. We are getting towards the bottom of the list here, to the people I think are least likely to become a supervillian. Dick has been through so much. With Renegade, Red X, Spiral, whatever was up with Ric, he took up the cowel and became Batman when Bruce was gone (which is something he never wanted to do), he's had so many of his friends die, family die, and that's not even all! He's been through a lot, but he's also the light to batman's dark. He's been through all that and still chooses to be good. There's no way he's ever becoming a supervillian (even if it is a very interesting plot in fanfiction)

9: Cassandra Cain. Last but certainly not least, Cass. I personally think she is the least likely to become a supervillian. She was raised as a weapon and taught to kill, but she has completely overcome that. She won't kill at all, much like Bruce, but she's also more emotionally sound. Her morals are strict, and she doesn't have to fight with herself to keep them. I love her so much, truly one of the best of us.

I'm gonna put Alfred as a honorable mention. He doesn't get to go on the list cause honestly, if he ever became a villian, it's over. He's have the world in his clutches before the week is over. Gotta respect him for having the patience of a saint.

This was so long! Anyways, feel free to add to this or tell me how you would rank them differently!!

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potatoesarecheese · 4 months ago

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fics that have forever altered my brain chemistry

(organized by fandom)

Grishaverse

read me poetry by dead men by demigodbeautiies

Major Character Death (but like, he's already dead)

Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, background Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, ghosts, ghosts only exist in the moments they are remembered, Non-Linear Narrative, Hurt Hurt Hurt Hurt/Comfort, this one will leave you actually sobbing, implied sexual content

Word Count: 16792 words. 1/1 chapter

Summary:

Wylan suits bright colours better than anything else: especially the warm tones that bring out the gold shine in his hair. He doesn’t look good in black.

Or: Jesper watches the living carry on without him.

origami butterflies by focacciaherbs

Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Background Nina/Matthias, road trips with a stranger, first meeting, modern au, miscommunications, so much bickering, Jan Van Ick is a terrible father but karma catches up to him eventually, implied sexual content (not really)

Word Count: 54536 words. 8/8 chapters

Summary:

“Are you Jesper Fahey?” Just say no, Jesper thinks as he stares at the man in front of him. Deny it and drive off. “Yeah, that’s me.” He sighs. “Get in.”

or: as part of a job for kaz, jesper agrees to drive a weird, annoying, definitely not at all attractive stranger across the country. shenanigans ensue.

Only One Reasonable Plea by Frick6101719

fear of noncon (it doesn't happen, and Kaz never has that intention, but Inej is very convinced that it might for a moment)

Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Inej's early days in the Dregs, she also gets a better explanation of her contract with the dregs, Kaz is trying his best to be a good boss but he is just so confused and emotionally incompetent sometimes

Word Count: 3883 words. 1/1 chapter

Summary:

Inej realises that she was so eager to leave the Menagerie she neglected to ask a few important questions about just what her duties as a Dreg would be, and what exactly her new boss expects from her.

a good myth is hard to kill by MajorGodComplex

Kaz Brekker/Darkling, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker/Jesper Fahey (kind of), Sun Summoner Kaz, Canon-Typical Violence, Mostly Kazling, unhealthy relationships, the slowest of burns (death threats are involved), Kaz learns how to open up to people the hard way, meanwhile the Darkling is busy gaslight-gatekeep-girlbossing, no seriously is gets bad, the Crows have so many shenanigans, oh and Nikolai is there too I guess

Word Count: 231561 words. 97/97 chapters

Summary:

“Kaz Brekker…Sun Summoner...I’ve been waiting a long time for you.” “Hope that means you’ve built patience, then, because I anticipate you’re going to wait a fair bit more.”

Kaz is the Sun Summoner, and boy is he pissed about it.

Batman Media

what you're longing for (you claim to abhor) by ghost-bxrd

Violence (mostly canon-typical, but there are some graphic-er parts)

They're All Good Siblings, Identity Reveal, jason pretends to be a hallucination, the bats get kidnapped far too many times to be healthy for them but it's ✨for the plot✨, the batfam has a collective identity crisis about Red Hood, Hurt/Comfort, oops Jason accidentally got emotionally attached to someone he's supposed to hate

Word Count: 52036 words. 12/12 chapters

Summary:

He smiles, all teeth, “Come on Replacement, I even got to the door with both legs busted. This should be nothing.” “You’re right. Jason… Jason wouldn’t have given up. He would fight, I can still—“ The boy wobbles, and Jason has to suppress the mortifying impulse to jump to his aid. “I can still fight. Batman needs me.” “That’s a terrible idea,” he muses aloud, and if there’s a hint of real concern somewhere under all the roiling green, well, nobody can prove it.

aka. the not-actual-hallucination Jason Todd tries the less hands on approach to getting revenge. It ends up backfiring spectacularly.

aka. the non traditional way to (reluctantly) reintegrate into the family after being dead, coming back to life, and becoming a crime lord, Jason "Red Hood" Todd edition

On The Record by oldmannapping

Social Media, Crack Treating Seriously, mostly about Roy & Bernard & Jason but there's a bunch of other characters in there too, mini stories and vignettes that kind of connect

Word Count: 9,652 words. 7/? chapters

Summary:

Bernard and Roy start a TikTok page. Red Hood reads thirst tweets. Nightwing is a troll. Roy gets candid.

Gotham isn't prepared.

I will probably add to this...

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methoughtsphantom · 4 months ago

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plot bunnies about an idea i don’t have enough motivation juice to write. red hood identity reveal variety

smol jason

So, Red Hood reclutantly working alongside the Bat to take down a child trafficking ring when he is hit with a de-aging spell. It even isn’t the first time Batman encountered the end of this particular spell so he already knows the victim would have no recollection of their memories, so he protects the now child (he guessing 11 estimate age) and guides him through the panic of not being able to take off the Red Hood helmet. the one that canonically has a bomb in it (cause older Jason is a dramatic bitchTM) so like, Batman catches the child’s prying fingers and takes them away from the latches because Hood has implied the existence of a bomb and that’s enough for dread to set in his gut. Bruce gently coaxes the child to let him confirm this with a device he takes out of his belt and raises it eye level to the kid’s head. It beeps. And B feels the ground sweep out under him. Because indeed this child has a bomb to his head. (and he’s suddenly hearing another bomb go off in the distance and a warehouse and —)

anyways, B ends up taking (read kidnapping) this twelve year old to the Batcave so they can pry off the helmet and I can only picture the ANGST because this is Jason and Bruce each unaware of who the other is. Jason still lives in the streets in his mind according to him and well, according to B, he’s dead. So they start bonding, kinda awkwardly at first cuz of the helmet’s voice modulator, but Jay at that age (at any rlly) was a spitfire and like he genuinely makes B forget this is a crime lord for a second (kinda difficult to that when the kid is stuck in the helmet) but whatever. I can only see Jason being his cautious self but kinda being at ends here because he kinda does need Batman’s help to get this thing off him, so he can only, just like narrow his eyes when the Bat approaches him for a blood sample. (“Need to check for magic residue, lad.”)

(Jason’s only allows this because he has a knife he found in the clothes he’d was drowning in earlier)

As u can guess, Bruce was obviously lying and wanted to run the blood sample to see if it matched any from his database (as the Red Hood has also implied that they have met before)

Anyways Bruce just gets the alert that the blood reading was finished almost at the same time they can pry the helmet off, and because he got a little attached, he just wants to see the face of this lively if wary teenager that has the same name as his (dead) son. (he managed to pry it from him earlier, how, i dunno) It’s literally Bruce’s martyr and huge guilt-complex that goes like ‘ah yes let me see the face of a child that was failed so throughly by the people who should’ve taken care of him’. So they pry off the helmet and then Bruce feels like he’s been doused by cold water. it’s like he’s staring at the ghost of his dead son again, the image completed with ruffled hair, slightly upturned lips and blue guarded eyes that look up to him with recognition but not recognition.

Bruce immediately hardens, shuts down any hope he can feel rushing in and desperately tries to close the dam and let his confusion and rage turn into anguish. “Who are you?”

The boy—the imposter quickly tracks the 180 demeanor change and immediately goes defensive. A painfully familiar scowl appears in his face.

“I’m Jason, I already told you that, what, your old age catching up to you?”

Batman stalks closer and then the boy’s taking two steps back for every one the Bat takes. He tracks the loose outline of a hand closing in tightly around the hilt of a knife in the boy wearing his son’s face and he can only think how dare he.

“Lies! You’re not my son! Who are you?”

Heart in throat, Jason struggles to keep distance between him and the towering black shadow that’s so angry he can sense it in his very bones. He doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t.

“I-I my name’s Jason. Jason Todd. My father is Willis Todd, not—not, Batman.”

And there’s that for the little snippet. Sorry this is so disjointed😭. After that’s just the mental image of Dick cutting in with Zatanna trailing closely behind him and being all “Hey I got your message about a de-aging spell and—“ and just stopping at the scene.

Because that’s Batman towering over a clearly scared kid. Said kid using the distraction to try and stab Batman. The action clearly enraging Batman—that doesn’t make any sense?! B would never— Dick immediately sprints into action and steps in between the two.

like Dick just giving his back to the kid and not seeing. Batman clearly shaking his head in denial and snarling, treating the kid like his crime lord self and Dick not understanding. Having to receive help from Zatanna to get the kid the hell out of here (but like where would they even take him? The manor??)

Zatanna just takes them to the other side of the cave and takes note of the teenager. How he has a dead grip on a red helmet and his gaze is stuck upon it.

Meanwhile Dick has to physically restrain Batman from going after the kid and he raises his voice just enough to demand what the hell is happening?? Why is there a kid in the Batcave? …Batman??? Report. As he is demanding answers Dick had slowly loosen his grip on his dad only to now found him staring at his gauntlet’s data hologram.

The information displayed? 99.98% Match confirmed to Jason Peter Todd.

So as this is clearly pure angst, I want Jason to lash out, sticking only to Zatanna only to realize she’s the magic user that’ll quote on quote will return him back to normal.

Jason is just like on really uneven ground here, even though he doesn’t think he’s ready to retur. But then Batman is just like “Jaylad” … “Jay…” and taking off his cowl and reaching up to him and looking at him like he knows him, like he’s something fragile and precious. Which is sooo fucking jarring you can understand. Jason internally is all what the fuck

Jason just wants them to back off. Jason is an overwhelmed bean. He looks up to Nightwing for help but the man is also mirroring the Bat, domino off and eyes suspiciously bright.

Zatanna is literally the only person in the room not emotionally compromised. She’s with Jay in the ??? train.

Suddenly she looks down and there’s the little boy whose eyes are pleading in helpless confusion. Eyes practically conveying the question you can return me back to normal right?? he pointedly doesn’t rip his eyes from hers as Zatanna puts a hand on his shoulder, pretending she doesn’t notice how he trembles and wordlessly asks if he’s sure.

cut scene

Bruce interrupts because information overload and he can’t compartmentalize this is too important and he and Dick stop Zatanna to which she too is ?? because that was literally what she was called for here. Dick is no help.

Dick is torn.

#jason todd #additional angsty route the sequel #B honest to god debating over returning jay to his normal age #turning the question round and round over how the hell did his baby boy turn into a crime lord???#(he’s having a moral battle with himself)#me: *wacks him* because his SON is right there HUG HIM #instead of asking irrelevant questions tt #but yeah triple angst for Jason because it’s a whole different type of hurt that his dad wouldn’t want him as he is #he’s not twelve anymore he died and he deserves to make amends with that #he came over the other side and he deserves people who accept him ragged over the edges as he is now😭😭#seriously I super apologize for having u guys read this disjointed piece of an outline #if you made it all over here that is #JSJ is cause i first put this on discord and so on tumblr format it got a little skewed #anyways #the plot bunnies attack again and i can’t write the movie #and i got a whole saga stacked #batman #dc #bruce wayne #dick grayson #zatanna #they’re all having a bad time your honor #fic outline #red hood #de aging #de aged jason

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maccreadysbaby · 21 days ago

Text

Project: Killcode Drabbles

tw: mentions of major character death, angst, cursing, maccreadysbaby’s first f bomb im so sorry

wanna read the extended fic? here’s the table of contents!

⚠️ THIS IS NOT PART OF BENTLEY’S MAIN STORYLINE, THIS IS THE NEXT SEGMENT OF BENTLEY’S ROBIN AU CREATED HERE

I’m so excited about this andnksndnxjxjd

JASON WAS GETTING REALLY SICK OF THE ANGRY BROODING FAMILY BULLSHIT.

Yeah, that was rich coming from him, the king of all bullshit angry and brooding. But it was different this time, somehow. Different because it wasn’t just him who was off the rails; because now he — Jason Todd: appointed-psycho, murderer, and actual crime lord — was the only one who gave a single shit about maintaining at least a semblance of togetherness within their bad excuse for a family.

His job was to be the black sheep — it always had been; that was who he was. That was Jason. That was what he was and what he would always be.

And now, living in a time when it was backwards, like they were all black sheep or something, was only working to piss him off all the way to hell and back.

Life had been good. Hell, life had been the best it had ever been for any of them. So good Jason often wondered if he’d wake up in the cave dressed as robin with a mortal wound only to be told he was hopped up on the good drugs. Like a nasty routine of disbelief and pinching himself to prove he was real, life was… life had been… amazing.

And then Dickwing went and got himself killed.

(Yes, Jason would always be passive aggressive about it to keep everything else that came with those thoughts at bay.)

After that, the world fell off of whatever pinpoint it balanced on, the celestial energies of the stars or whatever that kept life going the way it was supposed to vanished out of thin air, and all the remaining Waynes collectively became a not-so-merry band of living, breathing disasters.

Bruce had turned back into the man he was a long time ago. This cold, distant presence that lurked in the shadows of his own home and carried an aura around menacing enough that it could probably scare off a pack of rabid wolves. It was strange — the change between the man Bruce was and the man he had reverted to. He gave up the cowl and handed it off to Tim with nothing more than an exasperated sound and a look of distaste. He handed off everything he was in a moment's notice with no remorse, without a single thought toward the people that needed him, or the empire he built, or the morals he put in place. It was almost frightening, in a way. Jason would rather him be a ball of absolute hellfire and rage as opposed to the cold, absent, shadowy figure he’d become, because at least hellfire and rage was something he could work with.

Alas, Red Hood found it in his own best interest to stay the hell away from him.

Tim was also changing, though into something both new and old. With the name of Batman now looming over his head, he became nothing more than an archive for casefies and a living, breathing machine. He drowned himself in work, nightlife work and WE work, just to ignore everything else. And yeah, the kid was good at being Batman — he was good at getting the jobs done, at hammering out plans and calculating routes and taking down rings and disarming threats and all the things Gotham would always need. Scarily good at it. He always had been, but now, he did it, not out of passion, but necessity. He did it as a routine, a ritual, to keep himself distracted. Yeah, Jason saw something new in him, but he also saw that kid from Bristol who told all the adults to screw off because he could take care of himself, of that teenager who worked himself sick at Wayne Enterprises just because he knew he could. A volatile kind of self-hatred-fueled independence they’d worked so hard to train out of him.

He didn’t rest. He didn’t eat. He didn’t talk to anyone. If he ever crashed, it was in the cave where he got a few measly hours of sleep, and all the worrying signs of the habits Tim had long since overcome were all back in full force. Isolation, dissociation, anorexia, depression, and a slew of new ones, too.

And why the hell was Jason the only one that could work himself up enough to give a damn?

Cass vanished. Stephanie went off on her own to think. Duke went to be with his uncle, because his uncle had common sense, not a popular trait among Wayne’s. Barbara retreated to her own family. Alfred was still around, and still doing what he always did, perhaps the one taking Dick’s death in the most normal, typical way. He didn’t dare leave the manor, though the change and grief and age and stress of everyone else was starting to catch up to him, and nobody but Jason cared to talk to him or ask him anything anymore. He was getting less lively, less determined.

Of all the family, though, Damian’s reaction to Dick's death was the one that surprised him the most. The kid was close to him — everyone knew it. They’d Batmanned and Robinned together and everything. Jason had mostly expected him to go into a fit of homicidal rage — y’know, fall back to his roots, like they all had, but he didn’t. He did the complete opposite.

He was only seventeen, and the day Dick died was the only time Jason had ever seen him act his age. Instead of murdering everyone in his immediate vicinity, or maiming his family to expel his grief, Damian had…

Cried.

Which was kind of scary, if Jason were being honest, because it was Damian. Damian didn’t just do that kind of thing. But while everyone else was busy reliving old habits and turning into nineties emo boys, Damian just… cried. And cried. And grieved. And cried. And the world was falling apart and Bruce stopped being Batman and Tim took on the cowl and Damian just cried and of course Jason was the only one who gave a damn then, too. And maybe he was in the wrong for not doing anything, or trying to help. But nobody else had done anything, either, and Jason wasn't exactly in a stable enough headspace at that time to play Dickiebird.

Then, Damian passed the mantle of Robin down to the youngest Wayne in circulation.

Bentley.

Who also had a reaction adverse to what Jason had expected. He’d expected Bentley to be the one to cry and seek comfort and fall into pieces on the floor in front of everybody, because that's how Bentley was. Bentley always broke and fell apart and spilled the truth and cried in people's arms because that's what was healthiest for him, because that's what the kid needed. (Jason was starting to think maybe thats what they all needed, really.) But Bentley didn’t do that. Bentley hadn’t shed a single tear for Dick Grayson since he got the news -- not in front of anyone, anyway. Bentley didn’t break in the way Jason was prepared for him to.

Instead of shattering, Bentley became the most insufferable little shit of the whole damn century.

If Jason thought Damian or Tim were bad, a sixteen-year-old Dick Grayson-less Bentley was a whole new level of bad. He’d sort of become a mix of them all, like he’d adopted the worst of their traits and turned himself into some kind of nightmarish Wayne family chimera.

He took on Tim’s reliance on work to keep himself busy. He took on the disassociating. He took on the constant rage that had always boiled under Jason’s skin. He took on the coldness Bruce carried around with him. He took on Damian’s newfound hopelessness, this sort of empty feeling that was almost tangible anytime Jason got within a thirty foot radius of either of them. He slid back into the Puppeteer way of being cryptic and detached. And on the worst days, the days where he was notably thinking of Dick, or the days he was having it rough working with Tim, he…

He took on the way Dick used to fall silent and just stay that way for a while. Which irked Jason to the moon and back at the same time it dredged up feelings he didn’t want to feel ever again. Feelings so strong it reminded him very unpleasantly of the phone call he’d gotten from Bruce telling him that Dick had…

Anyways, what else would Bentley do, right? He couldn’t blame the kid. They were his first family and now one of them was dead. Jason was surprised he was upright enough to do anything at all.

He thought that Dick’s happy-go-lucky, loving memory would help them heal. Hell, the only thing Dick would want them to do was keep going. He could nearly hear him saying it -- for them to move on, to keep going for him, to live their lives to the fullest and have families and have futures because that's what he would want. Jason knew that's what he would want. Dick had told him that on a few occasions when Jason found himself too close to the edge of a roof, and of course, Jason’s fatal flaw was clinging to the words of Dick Grayson at the vitalest of times.

And now, nine months after the death of their oldest brother, the Waynes were still a skeleton of a family, everyone mere shadows of who they used to be, and Jason was effing pissed about it. Sort of because he wanted his family back. Sort of because they were shitting all over the memory of Dick Grayson by being all stupid and emo on his behalf. Sort of because he was really freaking tired of being his own support system and the only one who’d ever really known how to do it properly had died in a fiery explosion. Jason wasn’t weak, and Jason was stubborn as a mule. But Jason also knew when the pit was getting to be too much, and the fact that he’d been having night terrors again, that he’d started having to chain himself to his bed every night again to avoid waking up drenched in blood was a bad sign. And Dickwing wasn’t here to be his typical annoying self and do things like check on him. Maybe, if he could talk some sense into somebody, they’d care a little in return. Which would be, well… good. For him. He guessed.

So, to honor his big brother’s memory and whatever, Jason was going to have to try and do all that big-brother Dick-Grayson shit himself.

And who better to start with than his own narrative foil and the bane of his entire existence, Timothy Jackson Drake?

It wasn’t hard to get into the cave. Even though Batman and Robin (Tim and Bentley, which was still taking some getting used to even after nine months.) mostly patrolled alone, with everything planned down to the number of breaths they’d take and their uncanny, frightening ability to execute it near flawlessly, Jason still managed to weasel his way onto their route from time to time. Only for Wayne family recon, of course, and maybe a little mayhem, too. They hated when he showed up. They’d told him that. But he was able to make himself useful enough that, now and then, Tim would call him back to the cave for a debrief.

He was lucky that September twenty-fourth ended up being one of those nights.

Red Hood, Batman, and Robin squealed into the cave on their motorcycles at almost four in the morning that night. They’d just busted a weapons smuggling ring based out of a freighter in Gotham Harbor, and Jason had made himself just useful enough (by manhandling the owner of the ring and doing slight damage) that Tim declared his information just important enough for the logs of the batcomputer.

He couldn’t deny that the cave felt different now, with different bird and a different bat, with a new glass case holding an all too-familiar black and blue suit that not a soul in the house had looked at since Alfred put it up. It felt more like a real cave, in a way. Empty. Expansive. Cold. Lonely.

The engines died and the three of them climbed off of the vehicles in tandem, sharing exasperated sighs, each for different reasons.

“That bust was shit,” Was the first thing any of them said, and it had come from the red-haired-black-dominoed-menace-to-society that had parked to Jason’s left, the Bentley Whittaker who decided he wanted to burn the planet and everyone on it. His Robin suit was almost solid black, with only small splashes of yellow here and there, but even that seemed too bright for his current demeanor. “Do neither of you know how to follow a simple string of codes? Codes that we came up with because they were easy to understand and act quickly on?”

“I don’t care about your seven-step-patrol-authentication-cypher, asshole,” Jason muttered in response, pulling his helmet off with a thunk and hanging it on the handle of his bike. “I’m not waiting for a bunch of numbers to tell me where to move.”

“If you did, maybe we’d have gotten the buyer’s name before you went and shot the guy in the head, asshole,” Bentley mocked, ripping his domino off with a shwip noise, uncaring that his face would probably still be red from that in the morning. He looked normal enough; older than when Dick had found him, sure, but normal. Everything but his eyes, which had turned into something so cold and mean and not-Bentley-like that Jason had a hard time looking in them for long anymore. (Sometimes he really thought the boy that used to sleep next to him on the couch during thunderstorms, that used to come to him for comfort with big brown eyes full of fear but also so full of love and kindness and an eagerness to have a family, was nothing more than a fleeting memory that Jason would just have to keep safe in his mind.)

“Maybe if you two would shut up and follow Batman’s orders, it wouldn’t have been such a trainwreck. Bruce picked me for a reason,” Tim added, jerking the cowl off of his head and moving across the room toward the computer, where he spent the majority of his days. And nights. And life. Jason, a long time ago, may have laughed at the way taking off the suit made his hair stand up. Now it was just another thing he sort of despised. “Robin, I need you to debrief.”

Bentley was already moving for the lockerroom. “I told you, the whole thing was shit because you’re both stupid. Debrief over.”

Tim blinked, huffing out a dramatic breath. “Robin.”

“Piss off,” Was what Bentley said, before he disappeared out of their sight.

Jason sighed lightly, rubbing his forehead with his pointer finger and thumb. The Jason Todd part of himself wanted to deck them both and then laugh at them for getting a nosebleed, but the part that knew Dick would hound him for it kept him quiet. He just stood sort of off to the side, a few good yards away from Tim, who was settling at the Batcomputer, mumbling incoherent but definitely ill-intended things to himself. (He was only twenty-four, but the way he sat in the chair and hunched at the computer made him look like Bruce.)

“Hood?”

Jason sighed again, just for good measure. “He said his buyers were a high profile family from Bristol using the weapons to expedite their greed. Taking them and selling them on for more. Didn’t give a name. Manufacturer was some kind of undercover factory in south Austrailia under the guise of a paper company.”

“And I’ll put the ring leader in the report here as dead, because someone can’t take his finger off the trigger to save his own life,” Tim mumbled in response, a few files opening up on the computer before he started typing up a debrief that sounded all professional, using far more detail than Jason even remembered.

“Obviously I got useful info, or I wouldn’t be here,” Jason replied, crossing his arms and leaning back against one of the pillars that stood in the midst of the cavern. “I know you’d rather swallow a cheese grater than exist within a mile radius of me, but you brought me here. So you can get over yourself and go to hell with your degrading bullshit.”

“We could’ve finished the bust much more efficiently and completely if you hadn’t shown at all,” Tim shot back, not even sparing a glance in his counterpart's direction, just typing at lightning speed. “You’re the reason everything got so screwed up in the first place. We didn’t need you.”

Jason shifted, propping one of his legs up on the pillar. Somewhere he wasn’t quite sure of, deep inside, that statement sort of stung -- but it mostly just worked to irritate him more and make him rethink trying to talk to any of these insufferable people.

“I didn't-”

The locker-room door closed with a wham, and Bentley came out in a t-shirt and sweats, his red hair floppy and wet from the fastest shower on planet earth. He had a full duffel bag thrown over his shoulder.

“Robin, debrief, now,” Tim shot in his direction, more stern this time, as if testing the waters, gauging the reaction he’d get.

“Go to hell,” Was Bentley’s response, and he disappeared upstairs before anyone could say anything else.

Tim huffed, long, and dramatically. “He makes me want to throw myself out of a moving vehicle."

Jason hummed. If he was going to attempt a serious conversation, he guessed now would be an okay time, since Bentley had gone upstairs. There weren’t many other times he was alone with Tim anymore anyways.

“Well, we’re not exactly being great examples,” Was what he decided on saying. Not exactly the hey-get-over-yourself-and-shut-up-so-we-can-be-a-real-family-again rant he had planned, but it’d work, for now.

Tim glanced back at him, a sort of confused look crossing his face. Then he turned back to the computer with a sigh. “That’s not a new development, Hood.”

Jason said nothing for a minute, because, well... Tim was right.

“No, it isn’t,” He replied, glancing at the stairs up which Bentley had vanished. “Everyones… separating, again. Like what happened when Bruce disappeared. It took a long time for the family to recover from that.”

“Yeah, well at least one of us knew we could get him back,” Tim spat sharply, and Jason could imagine the cold glare that went with it even if Tim didn’t turn around. “Why are you talking about this, Hood?”

Jason glanced down at his boots that were crossed over each other, rocking the toe of one back and forth. “I dunno. Maybe we-“

“Look,” Tim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with a soft sigh. “If you want to have a therapy session, go find someone who cares to listen. I have too much work to sit here and listen to you ramble on about nothing.”

Jason had an urge that made him want to punch Tim in the face again, and he clenched his jaw to try and stave it away.

“Okay, well next time a goon is about to snipe you in the head from a rooftop half a mile away from the bust, remind me not to get involved,” Jason muttered, pushing himself off of the pillar and strolling back through the cave.

Tim made a snort sound. “There were no snipers.”

Jason dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a .308 bullet he’d swiped from the magazine of a sniper earlier that night, flicking it so it dinged on the desk next to Tim’s keyboard. “You’ll see him if you check surveillance cams north of the Whitehouse Library. You’re welcome.”

Tim glowered at him from his seat, but pretended not to be doing anything as he started typing in codes to pull up the Gotham surveillance cams.

Jason moved for the locker room (he thought he still had some sweatpants in there, and they sounded heavenly right about then.) but when he stepped inside, it was clean.

He scrunched his face up. Typically, as of late, Bentley had taken to tossing pieces of his Robin suit around the room as he changed just to, like, claim territory or something. (Maybe it was a depressed teenager thing? He wasn't sure.) But now, there wasn’t an arm-guard or cape in sight.

The duffle bag on Bentley’s shoulder was starting to seem more and more suspicious.

Jason sighed again. "Bird-brat went to patrol by himself," He called over his shoulder, through the door.

"Again, Hood, not a new development. He hasn't been coming in from patrol until eight or nine in the morning since he started doing school online," Tim replied with a nonchalant, sort of bored tone. The sound of computer keys clacking floated around them for a moment.

Jason, without checking for the sweatpants he desperately wanted to change into, walked back out to the main cave and eyed the too-small-Batman. "And you let him? Last time I saw him on a patrol alone he got fear toxined and tried to murder me."

Tim shrugged. "And he got benched after. He hasn't shown up injured or drugged since. He isn't stupid."

"He's sixteen, of course he's stupid," Jason shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought you kept a tighter leash on your bird."

"You try restraining him. Last time I tried to enforce anything on the kid he cracked two of my ribs in training. I'm not going to do all the casework, CEO W.E., and try to fix his shitshow attitude," Tim shook his head. "If he wants to live like hell, I don't care, as long as he shows up for patrol and graduates on time."

Jason inhaled and exhaled, and this feeling passed over him that made him want to throw Tim out of an airplane, because everything he just said would've been unacceptable the day before Dick's building went down in flames.

He clenched his fists, and then he released them, and he did that a few more times until he felt he could open his mouth without verbally murdering the current Bat.

"Next time you plan on getting sniped, don't bother calling," Jason said, with just enough nonchalance and just enough venom that it sounded like him. (Tim didn't have to know he turned his comms on every night during patrol and laid in bed with his helmet next to him so he could listen to it. Just in case they should ever need a third party who wasn't afraid of killing. After all, if they died, Dick would never forgive him.)

With that, Jason grabbed his helmet and left the cave without another word.

He didn't look at the black and blue suit on his way out.

-----

Jason found Robin with his legs dangling over the edge of Wayne Enterprises' rooftop, with his bow on his back, something glowing between his lips, and a large bottle of something wrapped in a brown paper bag sitting next to him. The Gotham lights were shining ahead of him, and the stars above, making what would've been a pretty nice picture if there wasn't a buzzed Robin in it.

Jason watched him sit in silence for about twenty minutes. It didn't take a genius to realize the thing glowing between his lips was a cigarette -- Jason watched him grab another one out of a seven-eleven bag after the initial one was gone. He kept taking long drinks from the massive bottle and wincing afterwards, like whatever was inside burned on the way down.

He let that go on for a while, before, finally, Jason landed on the rooftop behind the red-haired nightmare, careful to make his footfalls audible so his brother wasn't startled.

There was a long sigh. "A damn tornado is stealthier than you, Hood," Bentley grumbled from where he sat, not even glancing back at his counterpart. He picked up the bottle and took a long swig of it, suddenly not wincing at all now that Jason was there. It didn't take many steps forward for the telltale smell of booze and cigarettes to whack him in the nostrils.

Jason huffed, settling a good ten feet behind the teenager and crossing his arms. "You're going to give yourself cancer."

"That's what I'm going for," He replied smoothly. Jason saw him flick the ashes off of the cigarette that sat between his fingers, then take another long drawl. “Th’ hell are you doin’ here?”

Jason shrugged even though Bentley wasn’t looking. “Saw a sad little bird on the edge of a roof. Thought I’d drop by.”

“I’m not gonna kill myself, Hood. That’s what the booze is for," Bentley mumbled, smoke falling from between his lips and dancing away in the breeze.

Jason watched the smoke fade away. He sort of hated that he understood what Bentley was saying -- it'd happened to him several times before, where he was too much of a wuss to jump or pull the trigger, so he'd kill himself a little every day by drinking or doing drugs or smoking instead.

Jason huffed out maybe what was supposed to be a laugh, but it fell flat, his eyes drifting to the bottle. “Where did you get that, anyways?”

“I’m Robin. I could ask for someone’s liver and they’d probably give it to me,” Bentley replied with a nonchalant shrug, taking another drink of whatever he had, then a drag of the cigarette. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Jason lied, blinking at the back of Bentley's head. “Just thought I deserved a little info, since I’ll be the one carrying your scrawny hungover ass back to the manor after you drink all that.”

(And maybe so he could break a few bones over cigarettes and brown-bag worthy alcohol being sold to a vigilante everyone knew couldn’t be over eighteen, let alone twenty-one.)

“My legs’ll still work. So will the grapple,” Bentley replied, but Jason could hear in the way his words were starting to run together that that most likely wouldn’t be the case.

Jason shifted his weight, watching Bentley take another drink of the stuff. “You’d kill yourself with a grapple if you tried to use it drunk.”

“Done it before,” Was the unsettling statement that came next.

Jason sighed and brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, but upon realizing he still had his helmet on, let it drift back down. If he had known Bentley went on patrol just to get drunk...

“So this is what Robin does when he goes to patrol on his own, huh?” He questioned with a faint, empty snicker. Just to make the sentence sound right.

“No,” Bentley replied. At least Jason could tell that much was honest. “You just caught me on one of the good nights.”

Jason didn’t say anything to that, just watched as Bentley lifted the too-big bottle to his lips and took another long drink. The thing had to have been past half empty now. Unless it was just a really huge bottle of really cheap beer, Jason pretty much knew that the kid was going to be utterly done for in a few minutes time. (Bentley wasn’t good at holding liquor. Jason knew because he ended up being the very first hangover police Bentley’d ever had.)

(If he didn’t want to deal with Jason, maybe he should’ve drunkenly mistaken some other safehouse for the manor. Not to mention that the kid was one of those sad drunks, so Jason had felt almost contractually obligated to stay with him. Hence why he decided not to let him hangout on the roof alone.)

“Y’know, being all broody and pessimistic is kind of my thing,” Jason started, glancing off the rooftop at the few cars that were passing in the dark below them. “Not gonna lie — it doesn’t look great on you, kid.”

Bentley breathed in, and then out. “Charming, Hood. As usual. I thought you were debriefing,”

Jason breathed in and out, too. Then he tapped his fingers against his own arms. “I was. Then I wasn't."

"Very detailed analysis," The teenager mumbled, and Jason rolled his eyes. "You should teach me how to do that."

"Could you stop being an asshole for, like, two seconds?"

"Nope,"

Jason watched Bentley stare off the roof, taking a sip or drag every now and then. He didn't want to punch him -- he didn't.

“Y'know..." Bentley mumbled with a sudden shift in tone, taking a long drawl of his cigarette followed by a swig of alcohol. "When I first moved in, you made a joke that I was the Waynes’ to destroy. Nowadays that joke checks out. I'm Bentley, the asshole."

Something inside of Jason seemed to tighten. “Kid-“

“Don’t get all weird. It’s not like you could control it. And… it’s not like I wouldn’t let you do it again,” He muttered with a shrug, his words starting to meld with each other at a suspiciously quickening rate. “At least destroying me again would mean you guys still cared enough to do that.”

Quietly, Jason concluded that the sixteen year old was drunk enough to have a hard time holding his tongue. Because murder-death-rage Bentley hadn’t said anything so close to a please care about me since Dick died.

Jason took that and decided to go with it.

“You snap at everyone who gets close to you like some kind of rabid little creature that lives in a hole and comes out only to bite ankles,” Jason replied, crouching down on the rooftop with an exhale, somewhat behind him. “It was your choice to shut everyone out.”

“Tell me what the hell I was supposed to do, then, Jason!” Bentley was suddenly on his feet, so Jason was, too. One, because he knew the kid was drunk and could pull his bow on him if he really wanted, and two, because his balance wasn’t exactly trustworthy at the moment. He realized it was mostly the latter when he found himself inching forward as Bentley’s balance wavered.

“What the hell was I supposed to do, huh?” Bentley shoved him, and Jason stepped back. “The very second Dick Grayson died, every human being in the entire damn manor built walls up to the ceiling. Five people outright vanished, including you-“ He narrowed his eyes incredulously. “-Bruce became some kind of storytime bogeyman, Tim turned off his feelings like a Netflix psycho murderer and you all just left me there. So sure, you can accuse me of whatever you want, but I ended up the way I am because no one was there to help me. So I had to help myself.”

A moment of silence filtered between them. That fine sentiment seemed to dredge up a well of feelings that Jason hadn’t really let himself feel in a long while. He just sort of watched as Bentley shuffled back over to the edge and grabbed the bottle, only to turn it up and completely drain its contents, and for the first time, it sort of made Jason feel sick. Bentley was sixteen, and his big brother died, and instead of being a damn family, the Wayne’s did what the Wayne’s did best. Everyone scattered, and…

Well, just like he’d said. They’d left him there.

It was the same vicious cycle that Jason was living in — the resentment toward the rest of the family for shutting up, closing them out, pretending they didn’t know each other. Closing up, too, because he knew he’d get no help from anybody else, even if this was considered too big to handle alone.

Bentley puffed on the cigarette again, flicking the red ashes off the rooftop. “Sometimes I hate it here.”

Jason hated it when his siblings started to sound like him.

With no words, he lifted his helmet up and off of his head, the September breeze biting at his newly exposed skin. At the sound, Bentley turned to glance at him and scanned his face with brown eyes weary enough Jason could see it through the domino.

“I’m sorry,” Was what he said. He wasn’t sure why.

Bentley snorted at him. “Sorry that I hate it here? You didn’t make this hellhole.”

“Sorry that we left you,”

To that, Bentley’s mouth closed, and every trace of feigned amusement left his features. He just turned back to the city and… stood.

Jason didn’t say anything. He just sort of stood there, too, in silence. Bentley dropped his cigarette on the rooftop and stamped it out with his toe. And a few minutes after that, he pulled his domino off and dropped it on the roof, too.

Jason heard him whisper: “Shit,” Then he brought a hand up to his forehead and just let it rest there. “Breaking things that’re barely together in the first place is a specialty of yours, Hood.”

Jason didn’t say anything. Because there was a certain thickness in Bentley’s voice that he hadn’t heard in a long time, and he wasn’t sure if it was the booze or not.

Bentley sighed heavily and crouched down on the edge of the rooftop. “What? Did you just come here to torture me?”

“I came here because I’m sick of this godforsaken family pretending they don’t know each other every time something bad happens. They did it when I died. We did it when Bruce went missing. Tim’s gonna work himself to death, you’re gonna drink yourself to death, Damian’s gonna cry himself to death and I’m gonna pit myself to death. If Dick could see us right now, he’d be pissed,” Jason rambled, running an annoyed hand through his black and white hair. He noticed his fingers trembling with some kind of underlying adrenaline. “I came here because you might be the only one who’ll listen when I say I don’t want us to live in this hell anymore. All it does is make shit worse for everyone. And you know it’s bad when I’m the one having to bring it up.”

The only response Bentley had to that was another soft, breathy: “Shit.”

Jason huffed, glaring at the back of his head. “Shit? Is that all you know how to say?”

“I could say go to hell, if you prefer,”

“Already here, kid,”

Bentley breathed in and out deeply, rubbing his eyes with a fist. “A world without Dick Grayson is just a living hell, isn’t it?”

Bentley’s words hung in the air like smoke, so heavy even the breeze wasn’t able to carry them away. Jason just stood.

Yeah, it was.

The pair just existed in silence for a long while, and neither of them moved. Bentley stayed precariously perched on the edge of the building until he didn’t anymore — until he sat back on the rooftop and groaned: “Shit,” And then wiped at his eyes, because he was-

Oh.

Jason took a step forward. “Kid?”

“Piss off, Hood. Don’t you have someone to go shoot? Or something?” Bentley hissed, his tone lacking its usual bite despite the sharp words. “Surely coming here to make me feel like complete shit isn’t the only thing on your schedule.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel like shit. I came here because I don’t want us to feel like shit anymore,”

Bentley didn’t say anything. And while the teenager was utterly silent, Jason picked up on the telltale little hitch of his shoulders and wipe of his eyes. And it reminded him of the little kid that cried when it thundered, that woke him up in the middle of the night with tear-streaks on his face just to ask if it was okay if he slept on the end of his bed, and it all made his heart clench.

And then Bentley spoke. It was quiet, and broken, and sounded more like the ten year old Bruce had taken in than the Robin Jason had grown accustomed to.

He whispered: “I miss him so much I think it could kill me.”

With an inhale, Jason was suddenly moving, and he didn’t stop moving until his gloved hand came to rest on Bentley’s shoulder. But as soon as it did, the teenager shot to his feet and whirled on Jason in a split second, with streaks of wetness glimmering on his cheeks in the Gotham lights and a strange emptiness in his eyes. “Get the hell off of me, Hood.”

For a split second, he almost thought a flash of fear passed through Bentley’s brown eyes. He seemed to be struggling through conflicting emotions — because one second he looked pissed, and the next like he might throw up, and the next like he was about to break down crying, and next, like a kid who’d been shut somewhere alone for way too long. He was drunk, Jason remembered. Did it matter?

“Jason,” Was what he said next. His eyes were welling up again without his consent, but he kind of looked like he wanted to stab Jason in the face with a knife instead, and he was looking down at the rooftop instead of at his brother. He brought his arms up and around himself and gripped his own sleeves until his knuckles turned white.

(Just like he used to when he was little.)

“Bentley,” Was Jason’s reply. He inched forward and raised a hand toward him again.

Bentley flinched away.

“Don’t touch me,” He muttered. Jason disobeyed and rested a hand on his shoulder again, and as soon as he did touch him, Bentley sobbed and brought a hand up to hide it.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me!" He shouted, slapping Jason's arm away with a thwack.

"Kid,"

Bentley sniffed. "I’m so fucking cold.”

I’m so fucking cold.

Jason didn’t waste a second disobeying the kid’s previous orders by grabbing him by the head and and jerking him forward into his chest. He may not have been Dick, but Bentley hugged him back twice as hard anyways, and Jesus, had the kid even touched anybody since Dick died?

Jason didn’t think about it for long, because he only had approximately a millisecond before Robin was losing his absolute shit, drunk breakdown style. It was that kind of crying that made you try and cough your lungs up, and the kid kept saying stuff but he couldn’t tell what it was. Bentley was squeezing around Jason’s back so hard it actually kind of hurt, and that’s when he realized that Bentley ever actually cried when Dick died. That he’d stifled whatever reaction he would’ve had and shut it away for self preservation.

Bentley was reacting to Dick’s death right now.

Jason just did what big brothering he had learned over the years — he held his baby brother and kept his own feelings closely bridled, for both of their sakes. And they had to stay like that for a while. At one point Bentley’s knees buckled, and Jason had taken on most of his weight, but he didn’t care.

Then, almost an hour later, Jason took on all of his weight very suddenly. And that’s when he realized he'd blacked out.

Jason sent a withering glare to the bottle wrapped in the brown bag and picked Bentley up.

“You’d better remember this shit when you wake up,” He mumbled. He tried to glare at the unconscious boy in his arms, but he couldn’t, really — Bentley looked less sixteen and more twelve, with a faint expression of discomfort splayed across his reddened features. His face was wet from crying and glistening in the city lights.

Jason managed to pick up his helmet and Bentley’s domino with one hand, then he made for the nearest safe house.

(Maybe, if he was lucky, Bentley would remember their conversation when he woke up.)

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

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cologona · 7 months ago

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If you won some sort of lottery contest and DC allowed you to write a comic run for any character, any topic, no limits, what would your comic be like?

What kinda plot and characters would you want to etch into official DC canon? (Or would you prefer to write an elseworlds kinda thing?)

-redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog

Sorry it took a while to answer this, I got pretty carried away! Jason is my favorite character and the character I know most about, so of course I'd write about him. This is going to be pretty long winded and fanfic-y, hope you don’t mind!

First things first I’m making both UTRH and Lost Days mostly canon again. Jason was a crime lord who did Mean Crime Lord Things for a while and that’s what I’ve decided everyone is referring to when they gesture vaguely to his villainous past.

I’m also bringing back the original “big boob” backstory where Jason makes Bruce laugh on the anniversary of his parents’ death. Catherine was an opioid addict due to illness, Willis was the person who taught Jason about cars (and thus how to jack tires) and Faye Gunn is no longer Jason’s grandma. (I really disliked Ma Gunn’s “redemption” in RHATO.) Just in case, I’m also reiterating Sheila’s role in Jason’s death.

Here’s a few lines I came up with for the Todds:

Jason keeps the letters Willis sent him from prison - the ones Ma Gunn hid- in the same picture frame that holds his Robin graduation photo with Bruce. He loved and resented Willis in equal parts, but mostly he regrets not having gotten more time. It’s all the same with fathers.

Catherine is curled up in bed, her expression is half a grimace. She asks Jason, who is reading a picture-book by her side, to get her ‘medicine’ for her. Jason doesn’t know how else to help her feel better so… that’s exactly what he does. In a moment, he returns with a small heart shaped box and a cup of microwaved soup.

If I can imply in some way that Catherine is in denial about the possibility of her dying I’d like to do that too.

I’m also doing a total overhaul of the All-Caste.

Essence is getting proper Tibetan braids, Ducra is going to wear a khampa chuba instead of her current old coat, and the Acres-of-All are getting reimagined as a towering Ziggurat with all the murals, pillars, curtains, and ornate trim befitting a monastery! The All-caste of memory will be bright and fantastical, but the ruins of the present will be dark and spooky.

Some references for what I'm talking about.

I’m also reframing the “Absolute Evil” part of the All-blades’ description to be an epithet for the Untitled. The sword is not literally judging Goodness and Evilness anymore; now they cut through negative psychic energy Jujutsu Kaisen style. I don’t think I need to spell out a justification for Jason being able to summon them whenever, but for any sticklers I’ll just say it’s because Jason- like the Untitled- has a lot of bad feelings and trace amounts of Dionesium in his system (among assorted other chemicals.)

Since Lost Days is being brought back that means instead of spending an entire 3 years with the All-Caste, Jason only spent a few weeks with them during his world-wide training arc. Ostensibly because a little magic would give him an edge over Batman. Ducra wouldn’t normally just give away powerful magic weapons to any chump with a free weekend, and she knew Jason was dangerous, but since the All-Blades are so specific and the ritual to attain them nigh-unsurvivable she saw an opportunity to use Jason. Sure she's one of the Good Guys, but she's not called a conniving old witch for nothing hoohoo!

Now a few plot ideas for a vague overall mini-arc.

First, Jason goes to ugly lengths to protect or prevent consequences from finding one of his family. Maybe someone threatens their secret identity…? The ‘opponent’ should be someone innocent and/or noble but not easily bought or fought. Maybe Vicki Vale, another Hero, or some kind of wealthy heir. The point is to cast doubt on if Jason’s return to the Bats is really so unquestionably redeeming. Jason has pretty much chosen to betray his morals for them after all.

Then, Jason chooses not to kill a villain who shortly afterwards victimizes more people and skips town before he can get caught. Basically a rehash of Diplomat’s Son except the Garzonas figure gets away. It’s technically a win for Batman- his presence kept Gotham safe after all. But it doesn’t feel like a win, especially not to Jason.

And finally, Jason frames himself for various murders committed by victims against their abusers. Maybe kick the story off with one of Ma Gunn’s boys killing her and telling the cops it was Red Hood in a desperate bid to avoid jail.

Obviously Jason can’t be allowed to do this long-term. It’s a bad precedent to set, an obstruction of justice, etc… Jason hasn’t broken The Big Rule though, and Bruce can only act so sanctimonious when those same complaints could be are made about him as well. There’s no way this ends any other way than Batman running Red Hood out of Gotham again and they both know it, but neither deviates from the path set before them.

One or two “monster of the week” issues where Jason fights various assassins and bounty hunters sent by his more influential enemies might be good- one should occur right after the above story. A consequence for his “return to form” so to speak. Batfamily fans may appreciate a scene where Bruce says something indicating that he ran Jason out for his own safety as well as Gotham’s. Batman may be able to hide in Bruce Wayne’s skin during the day but Jason’s only identity is that of Red Hood, and at times that makes him vulnerable in a way other heroes aren’t. This + some panels contrasting the generic mercenary look of Jason’s guns and equipment with the Bats’ spandex future-tech will be great for showing how separate Jason is from the Bats.

Now while Jason’s out of Gotham again there’s this detail in one of RHATO’s flashbacks that I want to expand on- that being how he used to be able to summon a lot more All-blades.

Red Hood Outlaw 34

“I had a lot of soul back then” - implying that he has a lot less soul now…!?

Jason’s been through a lot, in life sure but also more recently. Fight scenes where the All-blades take the form of daggers would not only be cool and evocative of the wavy dagger Talia gifted him way back when, they’d be good visual sign of his declining emotional state.

Later on as his soul ‘shrinks’ further, I’d give him a pair of mystical guns through which he can channel his All-blades into bullets. If it’s another gift from Talia I’m thinking dark brass revolvers with paisley filigree and a red Endless Knot charm hanging from each handle. If they’re from Essence or S’aru I’m thinking black lacquer and silver cloud-patterned ornamentation, with red coral embedded on either side of the gun. Beautiful Bayonetta-style guns with glowing red veins and a cowboy flair!

antique guns which inspired me

As for what he’s using the All-blades (All-bullets?) for, I think it’d be fun to have Jason exorcising some ghosts. He can solve various murder mysteries, figure out why this place or that person is haunted, and get into fights with horrific otherworldly creatures. Jason is an interesting character to do this premise with because he might just determine that some some spirits should get their revenge, and act on behalf of a ghost rather than erasing it.

I’m not sure whether I’d want to have Essence join him or not… On one hand it only makes sense that Jason would help Isabel and Essence find a way to free themselves from the Blood Blade, and that goal would provide his character with some direction. Then again, Essence/Isabel could be cool as antagonists. Jason might see some ghosts as valid but Essence probably wouldn’t see any merit in appeasing manifestations of lingering resentment. She’s similar to him in that she also turned her back on her family, but she’s different in that she did it because she believed so wholeheartedly in their cause. She’s old and sort of a Jedi, but she’s hot-blooded and she’ll never not be Ducra’s daughter in the same way it seems Jason can never escape Batman’s shadow. I bet she has some real juicy sunk-cost fallacy type thinking too, that’d be fun to dig into.

Anyways I think this is a pretty good set-up to explore the politics/morality of forgiveness. What makes the difference between an injustice and a hatchet that ought to be buried? When is forgiveness empowering and when is it coerced? Who is it that must forgive? Justice vs Revenge, that whole kind of thing.

Other than the supernatural stuff I want Jason working with Talia, and I’m reintroducing Sasha to the post-52 continuity. Duela is getting nixed.

I don’t really have any specific plot ideas for Talia, but I would like to establish Jason as one of her associates. With Lost Days back they have basis for an actual relationship again. They’re not always on the same side but Jason can sometimes do tasks for Talia (outside the purview of Ra’s and the LOA), and Talia can occasionally support Jason with various social power-play type moves.

An instance of Jason getting into a fight with one of the Bats because he’s doing a favor for Talia would be great! I wouldn't write Talia as an evil evil bad horrible dragon lady, so it shouldn’t be a huge blow to Jason’s status as a Good Guy. Also I like the idea of Jason and Talia’s relationship mostly being inferred through their actions supporting one another, rather than directly showing much ‘on-screen’ interaction between them.

Also it’ll be interesting to go into Bruce, Dick, and Damian’s reaction to finding out that they’re not the only ones Jason is loyal to. Bruce thinking Talia was a bad influence on Jason (like fanon), silently frustrated because what he really wants is for Jason to be a full Bat-Believer (like the good old days…). Dick being fine with Jason never falling fully in-line with Bruce, provided that at the end of the day his loyalty belonged to his family.

-brief topical detour to talk about Sasha-

The new timeline of events is that Jason and Sasha met as fellow patients while Jason was in his Vague Villain era. They escaped the hospital building together (Sasha in her bloody dress, and Jason naked save for his skimpy hospital gown dhoti) and having no one else they stuck together. They got close but at some point Sasha lost her memories, giving her a chance at a fresh start. This was around the same time Jason “redeemed” himself and so just like Max Dawkins, ‘Numbers’, and Gabby Christiensen -Sasha became another person from Jason’s past that he didn’t let himself have a relationship with.

Sasha was just old enough that she didn’t have to be sent into foster care, so with some help from Wayne Foundations she got her GED and her feet underneath her. Now… she goes to work, goes to her physical therapy appointments, fights with her mother over the phone, and yes- sometimes she goes to the club.

The new Sasha still has spiky red hair but her face looks entirely normal save for a subtle scar tracing around her jawline and chin- the edges of where her mask used to sit. She wears dark makeup and even darker clothes. She’s prone to false memories and dissociation. She’s lost most of her ability to feel pain. She can’t watch certain shows she used to love anymore because they trigger her. She never returned to Russia. She doesn’t have many friends.

Since this is comics, her reintroduction will come by way of a dramatic fight. Sasha will regain her memories one day and show up out of the blue to fight Jason, angry and heartbroken that he abandoned her. He tries to explain himself but she just says look what they did to my face, referring to the facial reconstructive surgery she was given while amnesiac. She’ll be difficult to fight, not only because being a partial Dollotron gives her enhanced strength but also because she’s being reckless and the longer they fight the more strain and damage her body accrues.

After Jason apologizes and they reconcile (they will both cry) Sasha can become a recurring side character that Jason visits, keeping him grounded and up to date with Gotham. I think it'd be cute for her to bid him farewell by saying she’ll hold the city hostage until he comes back. (Is Sasha going to become Jason’s love interest? No. If I give Jason a love interest it’s going to be Numbers.)

--Going back to the previous topic, I want Sasha’s return to be part of this greater arc of Jason addressing his "shrinking soul" problem. My brain is a little fried now so I’m not exactly sure how but she is related. I think she ought to be.

Jason wants Bruce to be right. He would like for his problem to be fixed by going home and saying sorry. But at the end of my run I want him to face the reality that it’s not about that.

...Perhaps it should be about Jason 'abandoning' Gotham? I don’t really want the final thesis of my run to imply that Jason’s soul would just be fixed if he killed Rogues though, and Jason always came back whenever a big disaster was happening so it doesn't quite fit anyways… Jason does believe in the value of “pure” heroes it’s just not what he’s supposed to be. Whatever his problem's “about” , it ought to prompt Jason to stop taking Bruce’s shit. I'm saying the man is literally breaking Jason's spirit.

I’m sympathetic to Bruce but I wouldn’t write him as a nice father. I would also have scene where a younger Bat accuses Jason of being overdramatic despite 'not even having it the worst’. I don't know who 'has it the worst' but I want to make a statement that you don't need to win the pain-race to be fed up.

Ah anyways, now my brain is really fried. I hope this post was coherent all the way through, I neglected to edit and organize my thoughts as much towards the end. Thank you for asking me such a great question, I had a lot of fun thinking about it! :D

#me rambling so much #i have been holding onto this too long #I did kind of pull and UTRH part 2 electric boogaloo with Sasha didn’t I #except I characterized her as more like fanon/movie Jason #I fixed some of the typos now #oh god I forgot to mention:#I want to have a repeated motif of timekeeping sounds #beeping alarms ticking clocks beating drums #also I want Jason to show off his knowledge of bombs and poisons #Jason’s always making antidotes to shoot people with that ought to be explored #ahhhh the ideas won’t stop coming #jason todd #scarlet sasha #essence dc #headcanons #red hood #put a pin on it #📌

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