#Red Hood protects crime alley and they will protect him back

[prlssprfctn]

It is no secret that Jason Todd has a soft spot for kids. His family knew it for a while, figured by the way he always changed the intonation of his grumbling voice around them, and stopped to help them out with whatever was puzzling their little, chaotic minds.

But it is still so unusual for them to see Jason actually acting soft around random kids.

So, when Dick accidentally walks on Jason and a little crying kid in the alleyway, during the patrol, he... freezes a little. There is something absolutely cute in a way big bad Red Hood kneels in front of the kid, while animatedly telling some stupid, funny story with all sounds effects rolling down his tongue, and big gestures. The kid giggles, gasps, and eventually stops crying, wrapping little arms around "brother's Hood" neck. Jason gets grumpier when he notices Dick staring at them, but that's fine. It is still cute-cute.

The next week, Tim stumbles across Red Hood, distracting a homeless boy scared of explosions by playing with him. When the boy jokingly hits him on the shoulder, Red Hood dramatically falls on the ground, gripping his "wound," and Tim can't help but stifle a laughter along with a boy.

Barbara listens through the comms as Red Hood hums some lullaby to a girl, he saved from Black Mask's goons. Damian catches Red Hood taking off his helmet for a toddler to stop crying at the sight of an unknown big guy around.

But the point stands: Jason always finds a way to protect kids, and that's something they all are used to.

...They just don't expect kids to protect Red Hood.

When Jason gets hit with a fear toxin — again — and Bruce figures out that he mindlessly, in a total state of panic, went to the Crime Alley, Bruce is... alarmed. None of them handle fear toxin well, but Jason has guns on him, and his memories are the worst. He practically sprints to the location Jason's tracker is, and... stops in the tracks.

Jason is here, full in his armour, curled in the dark, dirty alleyway with kids surrounding him. There tenths — maybe more of them — and they are trying to calm shivering and panicked Red Hood down. A little girl pats him on the helmet, and another boy hugs him gently. They all murmur something, debating about what to do, and Bruce needs a good minute to remember why is he even here.

'Hey!' Some kid from the crowd notices him first, instantly frowning. 'Back off from there. Don't touch brother Hood.'

Bruce doesn't know whether he should laugh or cry.

'I... I am here to help,' he softens his voice. 'Don't worry, kiddo. Thanks for keeping him safe, but—'

'Uh-uh,' the girl glares at him under uneven bangs while shaking her finger in the air. 'We don't trust you. Back off.'

...Jesus, surely Bruce remember times when kids were scared of him, but this is the first time they are actually so bold around him. And it is definitely the first time someone stops him from taking care of his own kid.

Kids from this side of town are really built differently.

'I—'

'Hey,' some taller teenager runs towards them, slightly out of breath as he shakes a can in his hand, addresing his next question to other kids: 'I bought his favourite beer. Do you think it is going to help?'

Should he be concerned that kids on the streets know Jason's favourite beer and bought it despite them being... clearly not of the age of drinking? Probably. Is it also a little bit amusing that they think alcohol would help? Yeah.

'I have an antidote,' Bruce clears his throat. 'I just need to inject it, alright? Please, trust me. I am here to help.'

They all exchange questioning glances between each other. Jason is still pretty much out of it, muttering some nonsense under his breath, shaking as a leaf — not crowbar, not again, please — but when a little girl in dress asks him if he wants to see Batman, his eyes clear just for a split second, before he mouths a small, scared Dad.

By the end of the day, when Jason falls asleep, recovering from the toxin, and kids finally seem to trust Batman enough not to hurt their big brother and let them go, Barbara and Dick tease Bruce non-stop about how kids humbled him. Still, Bruce feels a strange softness settling in his chest.

Maybe he wasn't always here to protect Jason. Maybe he still fails to do it sometimes, not knowing what to do with his son, but... at least Jason still has someone in this world, someone so loyal and loving.

So, yeah. Jason Todd is great at defending kids. But so are they.

[metalphoenix]

Do you think theres a memorial to the second Robin in Crime Alley? I like to think that even if the rest of Gotham didn't know where he came from that Crime Alley knew he was one of theirs.

Do you think they were devastated when it came out he was dead? I don't think it would be a official memorial or anything. When it was announced he was dead people started putting candles/cards/stuffed animals/food out on their roof tops in honor of him.

Maybe a few weeks later someone graffitied a mural somewhere up high in his honor. They did it in the middle of the night. After that people started to leave things there.

Theres no official care taker for the memorial. Everyone helps out. People who leave stuff take care to clean up any trash left around. Theres a few people who make sure theres always at least one candle lit.

One day its vandalized. Robin may have been one of them but its Crime Alley and he made life difficult for criminals. Maybe someone he put in jail got angry and vandalized it. The people fix it. There no call to action they just see it and take it upon themselves to restore it.

Do you think Jason sees it when he comes back as Red Hood? I think he found it in his first two weeks back in Gotham. He wasn't big yet. He was still taking control. He stumbles upon it on accident. He's not expecting it. He's grateful no ones around because he breaks down. The enormity of everything that happened to him hits him like a brick and suddenly he's on his knees sobbing.

Maybe once he's taken over and the people trust him he'll ask about it. He'll ask why they care about the second Robin. Why do you take care of the memorial so intensely? They tell him. They tell him they know the second Robin was one of them. They tell him how much hope he brought to the people that had none. Do you think he realizes how much he meant to these people?

Maybe someone connects the dots. They don't know who he is but they see how fiercely protective the Red Hood is of the alley and they remember the boy in bright colors and an even brighter smile. They look at this angry broken man trying so hard to do good and see the boy who died too soon.

The next day a mural of Red Hood pops up across from the Robin Memorial.

[saltymarshmall0w]

beatdown buddies

(You always read fics where the pit is instantly calmed by Danny’s presence, but what if it didn’t?)

Now, you have to understand, that Jason was long past attacking strangers in a blind fury. The Bats? Sure, all the time--- but he was working on that.

This particular scrawny, possibly-homeless stranger hadn’t done anything more than simply exist in Jason’s proximity. If it was any other Crime Alley resident, Jason would be much more likely feel a surge of protectiveness.

This guy though– he was different.

Locking toxic-green eyes to toxic-green eyes made the pit in his skin violently react. Before he knew it, he was hitting the guy with everything he had, and the guy was hitting back.

The groceries Jason had left his apartment to get spilled all over the ground as the two rolled.

Pulled hair, split knuckles, and bruised bodies, the guy’s fist hit Jason’s jaw for the umpteenth time, cracking his head back and making him look at the gloomy sky.

They only used their fists. Jason could feel the familiar ghost of weapons hidden under the other guy’s hoodie, but neither pulled their hidden weapons.

Despite it all, Jason and the guy shared blood-tinged smiles. Blood boiled under his skin in an exciting trill. He was angry, and it was fantastic.

He’s pretty sure he just made a new best friend.

Someone hit Jason’s back with what could distinctly be identified as a broom. He vaguely heard the sound of yelling around him, but Jason’s only focus was getting his next hit in.

Eventually, they were stopped by a familiar shade of blue and black. Strong arms pulled him off the stranger and pinned his arms down, locking their arms over his chest to prevent Jason from getting free.

“You need to calm down!” Dickwing’s voice lectured in his ear. “You’re going to kill him!”

Surprisingly, Jason settled in Dick’s hold, fight and anger drained out of him in the space of a breath. The fire under his skin didn’t keep flaming and flaming and building it just– stopped.

“Oh, Please.” The stranger was grinning widely, despite the model of developing bruises and cuts across his face. A burly man who Jason vaguely recognized worked at the store they were standing right in front of was both holding up and holding back the guy. “We were just saying ‘Hi’.”

The guy made eye contact with Jason. Blue, no hints of green anywhere. The guy winked. “Danny.”

Frankly, Jason couldn’t quite explain his actions. He felt stupidly chastized by Nightwing’s patented older brother stare of disappointment. Apparently, the guy couldn’t explain his actions either, as he disappeared the instant no one’s eyes were on him.

-

Jason arrived an hour early to Wayne Sunday family dinner. He missed cooking alongside Alfred, and offered his help.

He let Dick wrap an arm around his shoulder for a few seconds as a welcome. He didn’t seethe at Bruce simply being there. He chose to sit between Tim and the Demon brat when it looked like new fratricide plans were being drawn up by the younger.

The pit didn’t scream under his skin to hurt. Little things didn’t set him off, making him have to leave early. He wasn’t tempted to throttle anyone for existing around him.

The pit was just… quiet. Peaceful even. Well, as peaceful as it could get in the Wayne household.

It was a massive improvement compared to six months ago— hell, compared to last month.

He shrugged off inquiries about his black eye, citing it would heal quickly anyway.

-

Jason should have known he wasn’t safe.

Sure, he was on a roof one could only grapple to, across the city from crime alley, and dressed up as Red Hood.

However, Danny always reappeared periodically like a well-timed extremely therapeutic punching bag.

One moment, Jason was looking down over the streets of Gotham the next, he was being flying-kicked by a lithe frame. Something instantly recognized Danny so, rather the putting a bullet in him, Jason picked himself back up into a crouch and lunged at Danny.

“Hood? Hood what’s going on?” Someone called in his ear— Oh, right he had connected comms with his family that night.

Danny stopped suddenly, straddling Jason’s stomach, one hand fisting his collar, the other posed to strike. He blinked. glowing green eyes turned blue. “You’re not like, busy doing vigilante stuff, are you?” He asked.

Every bruise and cut from their last fight was gone, his baby face appeared as though it had never been punched in his life, making him look all the more punchable.

“Nope.” Jason answered, driving an elbow into the kid’s stomach and in the same motion ripped the comm out of his ear to toss it to the side.

Minutes later Danny was pulled off him, and the fire under his skin died down.

He blinked back into his surroundings to find himself on a rooftop with half of Gotham’s vigilantes standing in a circle around him, an unease that he could only read because he was so familiar with them written in all of their body languages. Batman held Danny slightly behind himself, keeping a firm grasp on the guy so he couldn’t escape.

“You claimed the rage was getting better.” Bruce stated in the way that meant he was supposed to answer his unasked questions..

Jason waited for rage and indignance to rise up in him, but rather he just considered that Bruce saw glowing green eyes and a brutal beat down and made a logical leap.

“It has!” Jason argued anyway. He sniffed and ran a hand under his slightly bleeding nose. It didn’t sting enough to be broken. “I haven’t lost my cool in months.”

“That’s what he has me for!” Danny chimed happily. His nose was broken, but Danny didn’t seem to mind the twin streaks of blood running down his face. “We’re friends with Benefits. It’s always healthy to have a little dead-guy on dead-guy action. You guys should really fight with him more often, his ectoplasm is rank.”

[dclovesdanny]

DcxDp prompt

Teen dad Danny Fenton moving into Crime Alley and getting a reputation for helping. Street kids willing to babysit Ellie and Dan while he’s job hunting can spend the night, have a meal, get cash, whichever they choose. Sec workers who do Ellie’s hair/nails/babysit some nights also get the same benefits. He will treat anyone with injuries for the low price of showing Ellie and Dan their guns/taking them to the observatory/getting him job opportunities.

All of the people in Crime Alley know the single meta dad with two kids, who has helped half the alley at least. Everyone is also aware of how Ellie calls her other parent ‘The Bastard’, and how bad their nightmares are, the ones they have to call Danny for(A few of his repeat guests have seen the scars and burns on his arms. Some of the older street kids recognize that hunted look he gets when people touch him when he doesn’t know they are there. Some of the sec workers notice how protective he is of his kids, and the younger workers. No matter who they are, they all notice how Dan gets quiet and angry when asked about his ‘other dad’. They all have sworn never to let those kids go back to the other dad, Danny included. They are a part of Crime Alley now, and they protect their own)

Danny doesn’t realize how far his reputation goes/how much everyone trusts him until two of his regulars bring in an injured Red Hood, promising him whatever he wants in exchange for him helping their boss.

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny’s Wayne adoption bait. The guy that owns the bodega knows it. Everyone and their mothers knows it. Danny, on the other hand, had no clue. To be fair, he had just crash landed in this dimension a week ago and his back was still sore from the weird design the car had.

(It’s only three weeks of homelessness later does Danny realize that he crash landed on the Batmobile. Whoops. Oh well. He’ll blame it on Clockwork if the vigilante asks after repair costs.)

(Bruce, on the other hand, is scouring the streets for this kid the car cams caught- oddly static filled footage- because his mind jumped to the worst case scenarios: a suicidal meta or a meta being threatened or a meta in a trafficking scheme or even worse all three at once and Bruce just can’t because there is a child in danger, he doesn’t have time to sleep.)

Danny rubbed at his back, eyes going watery at the memory. Sure, his wounds have healed over by now but the- heh- phantom pain is no joke. He shuddered, huddling closer to his threadbare hoodie. His only saving grace from getting jumped while walking the streets of Gotham at night is his invisibility and intangibility. Also, he’s floating, so “walking” doesn’t apply to him.

He’s gotta check on the kid he saved yesterday from a mugging, so Danny hurried along to the depilated apartment complex the kid was squatting in. Turning visible and tangible as he turns the corner, Danny glanced around for Amy.

“Danny!”

“Hey, kiddo. Doing alright?”

“Yeah! Come meet my gang!”

Danny felt his eyebrows rise to form Jazz’s exasperated look. Ouch. Waving the pain of losing Jazz away, Danny smiled at the excited girl.

“A gang? I wasn’t aware I was being brought to your almighty group.”

“Yeah! Uh, you actually helped a bunch of us so…”

Danny thought back to all those times he punted crooks away from robbing kids and shrugged. Yeah, what Amy said was likely.

“Kay, kiddo.”

She scowled, and Danny didn’t have the heart to tell her it looked more like a pout.

“You’re just a teenager.”

“Well, you’re a just a kid.”

Danny cackled as she chased him down the street, trying to kick his shins.

Life is good, even if he’s homeless and hungry.

——

“Jason.”

“Old man.” Jason mocks back, pausing his tasks. He waits as Bruce struggles to put his thoughts and feelings into words.

“There��s… a meta.”

“In Gotham?” Jason tilts back, hands halfway to his guns as a silent offer. Bruce shakes his head.

“A child. In Crime Alley.”

“In my turf?” Jason’s disquieting demeanor quickly swapped to a protective one.

“Trafficking, I think. Male, black hair…”

“Shit. Get Dickwing back here, he’s good with traumatized kids. I’ll go look for him.” Jason’s already moving, mind filtering through the kids he knows might have information to offer.

Bruce nods, shoulders relaxing. Jason smacks down the lump in his throat at the subtle sing of trust. “I’ll get Oracle and Red Robin on it.”

Jason morphs from Jay to Red Hood in one smooth step, helmet firmly placed on his head. He grunts in agreement, slinging his legs over his motorcycle. He roars off, mind half filled with tearing apart whatever traffickers dared to shit near his territory and the other half filled with worry for this possible kid.

——

Danny, as the Bats become aware of his existence, hands Amy and her kiddie gang a bag of fancy beef jerky.

“Try these with peanut butter, it’s kind of good.”

Amy stares at him, the judgement of an eight year old more piercing than anything he’s ever experienced.

“You’re fucking weird-”

“Language!” He squawks.

“-but sure, whatever you say, boss.”

“Boss?!”

The kids ignores his alarmed face.

[prongsx]

Lazy Sundays

warning: fluff, f!reader, Jason being a cute guy. English its not my first language. established relationship.

Jason had always been an alert person. It was tiring, but he couldn't help it. Life forced him to never rest.

It started when he was still young, he had to be alert so he wouldn't die in the alley of crime, if he made a false move he could end up in a web of crimes and murders. He had to be alert to keep his own mother from self-destruction, had to be constantly checking her breathing, if she had eaten, if she hadn't used her subsistence money for drugs. He learned that being a heavy sleeper was dangerous when his house was shot at and he had to hide under the table, eyes full of tears.

Then Bruce adopted him, but he had already lost part of his ability to be a child, never carefree. And now he had the burden of showing Bruce that he was good enough, that he wasn't wasting his time training a boy with too many emotions. Always alert. He had too many emotions, he knew that. His love was wide and deep, but so was his anger. His sadness was like sharp claws scratching his skin from the inside out. He needed to stay alert to keep his emotions in check, because they could consume him.

Being Robin kept him alert, he needed to take care of himself and Batman's back. Even Dick, who had years of training, found Jason too vigilant, his eyes never seemed genuinely relaxed and Dick found out the hard way. He went to play a prank on Jason, waking him up in the middle of the night, but the boy reacted in the worst way and before Dick could react, there was a knife pressed against his neck.

When Jason died and came back with Red Hood, his sense of survival became stronger. There were too many people wanting to kill him, the anti-hero had twice as many enemies, sleeping in peace was not an option. He had so many knives and hidden weapons that he would get scared when he went to brush his teeth and found an AK 47 in the bathroom cabinet. He needed to be like that to survive.

Then he met you. And his knees got weak, his heart raced faster than when he had a gun pointed straight at the vigilante's heart. After much difficulty, you started dating, even though Jason warned you that dating him was a death sentence.

You didn't listen to his warnings, forcing him to stop self-deprecating and start acting like a functional adult (as much as possible) to be in a relationship. Jason was right, he was too busy with his double life. He almost never relaxed, worried about taking care of you and protecting you from his enemies.

After a few fights, you decided that for the relationship to work, you would have at least one day a week to be lazy. You started it: Sunday morning. You needed to know that at least one day a week you would have Jason completely. It was hard to live with the distance his night shift required. So he committed to keeping up this new tradition.

"I'm hungry," Jason just mumbled in response to your plea. It was 10 am on a Sunday morning and neither of you were willing to get up, just like you forced them to. Your legs were intertwined, a thin sheet covering you, Jason's hands holding you tightly against him, his soft lips against your shoulder. The sun was coming in through the curtains, Gotham seemed silent, the only noise that mattered to you was each other's breathing.

"The bakery should be delivering by now," Jason replied, sighing contentedly as you drew patterns on his arm. One of the rules of Sunday morning was to make no effort, even cooking. You knew Jason liked to cook and take care of you, but at least one day a week you allowed yourself the luxury of eating ready-made food.

"It should be at the door by now," you mumble, finally opening your eyes and finding your boyfriend's beautiful face. Jason imitated your action, his sapphire eyes seemed clouded with sleep, which pleased you. Yesterday you had gone out to dinner and stayed up late watching movies and kissing on the couch, which explained how tired they both were.

"Let's get it then," Jason's voice was still hoarse, his black hair cutely messy. He let out a groan of complaint when you pulled away from him to get up, causing you to laugh.

As soon as you established lazy Sunday, it was as if a switch had turned in Jason's head. It was impressive to admire how beautiful Jason looked relaxed, his shoulders without all that tension, his features less marked and even his scars relaxed.

Peace would suit Jason, you thought.

The two of you shuffled into the kitchen, talking in whispers, your hands never leaving each other. Jason walked close behind you, his large hands holding your hips close to his body.

Your boyfriend had a silly smile on his lips, the joy of being with you leaving him on cloud nine. He noticed how beautiful you looked in your sweat shorts and with his shirt, you smelled of comfort and love.

"So, our only commitment is to have coffee and kisses at the counter, right?" Jason hummed, a huge smile on his lips, the sun seemed brighter. Then clouds appeared in the glorious sky of the lazy Sunday.

The clouds came in the shapes of three known people invading your window, the largest of them smiling happily. You thought Jason was really sleepy and relaxed, because he didn't even raise a gun towards the intruders, which was customary.

"Good morning, couple." Dick Grayson greeted, closing the window when Damian entered last. You raised an eyebrow, while Jason gave a slight growl behind you. Your hands came up to lightly stroke his hair, urging him to stay calm, he relaxed into your touch, your lazy Sunday Jason returning.

"Okay, Todd, we got some information from that case we were working on." Damian said, being the rude little punk that he is, throwing work papers on their kitchen table. Tim Drake followed suit, leaning against their counter, where Jason planned to kiss you until you forgot your name.

"Boys," you called out to them, clearing your throat. Three pairs of eyes stared at you. "Today is Sunday."

You sighed when none of them reacted. Damn workaholic sons of Bruce Wayne. Your feet shuffled to the kitchen door to get breakfast, leaving Jason to take care of his brothers.

"Jason, we need those other documents you saved." Dick said, sitting down next to Damian. Jason let out a long sigh, he still felt numb from being in bed with you. He wouldn't let his brothers ruin his favorite day of the week.

"Can we fix this tomorrow?" The three brothers stared at Jason, their eyes equally wide. The fearsome red hood's posture was so relaxed, his pajama top slightly torn and loose. His hips leaned on the counter and his blue eyes seemed clearer, almost serene. His hair really looked like a mess, the white lock falling over his forehead in a cute sort of way.

"Jason, did you hear us? It's the case you've been working on for months." Tim said, still looking perplexed. Jason sighed, his features still marked by prolonged sleep.

"Yeah, yeah. So?" He grumbled, a smile appearing on his lips when you came back with the breakfast bag. Handing him a cup and pouring coffee. He whispered a quick, "Thank you, honey."

Damian was the first to recover from the shock, his hands holding a particularly suspicious photo that would solve half of Jason's case.

"Todd, big drug case! You spent months bugging everyone for clues."

Jason just shrugged, sipping his coffee and resting his face on your shoulder, humming with joy.

"One day more, one day less."You could have laughed at how Dick looked like he had been slapped in the face. Your heart was bursting with pride for your boyfriend, who had finally learned the meaning of being at peace and lazy.

"Who are you and what have you done with little wing?" Dick said, blinking those big blue eyes slowly.

You turned your back on the little argument again, not wanting to interfere in the family dynamics, busying yourself with taking your breakfast out of the bag from your favorite bakery.

"Take those papers off the table, let's have breakfast." Jason replied with just that, making Tim's eyes pop out. He looked like a different Jason, without his characteristic sarcastic smile or the tense shoulders.

"Todd, we need to figure this out!"

"Jason, it won't take long..."

Jason let out a louder sigh now, leaving the Wonder Woman mug in the corner and turning to his brothers, his tone of voice still soft compared to normal. "Today is Sunday." He repeated, pinching his nose slightly to keep his temper from rising. "I'm staying with my girlfriend. I'll figure this out with you guys tomorrow."

He turned to you, almost as if he expected to receive a proud smile, and he got one. Damian let out a snort.

"Todd, be a man for once in your life and stand up for yourself."

"He's too tangled up in the leash." Tim joined in the provocation, unable to contain himself.

"Wrong choice of words, boys," you whispered, knowing what was coming next.

The three of them were startled when Jason's hand slammed on the table they were at.

"I'm only going to say this once. It's Sunday morning. If you little shits are unhappy and girlfriendless, that's your problem. Either you're going to leave now with these papers or I'm going to use the gun I have hidden behind the fridge."

Jason's blue eyes were that darker shade that screamed: danger! It didn't take much more, the three guards took the papers and left muttering, you heard a few words that sounded like "this will come back, Todd" and "I'll tell him where he can stick that gun."

You turned to Jason, your hands going to his tense shoulders.

"Honey, it's okay, I'll accept if you want to help them."

He let out a snort, pulling you against his chest, smoothing the skin under your shirt.

"No. It's our lazy Sunday."You smiled, ridiculously content, pulling him into a lazy kiss.

"Speaking of which, gun behind the fridge?"

He distracted you with a kiss at the base of your neck, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Bastard.

It was a good lazy Sunday.

[writerfromthestars]

DP X DC : RED HOOD, REVENANT AVENGER OF GOTHAM

Danny's the new king of the ghost zone, and with great power comes great responsibility, so that means paperwork. as he's going through the intake forms for several new ghosts, he comes across a few interesting discrepancies, in the files of one Jason Peter Todd. It would appear that the guy came back to life, but the bureaucratic error was never rectified, so he's running around not fully alive, and not quite dead, either. He isn't a halfa, but he is very liminal and made liminal on corrupted ectoplasm at that. Basically, he's a revenant with an obsession, and the corruption in the ectoplasm means that he has nothing to modulate this obsession.

So, Danny does the logical thing and asks around the ghost zone's latest Gothamite guest to see who exactly, this newest revenant is. What he finds is certainly interesting, and he spends a day going through the records of Jason Todd's life, death, and subsequent resurrection, as well as lists of those the Red Hood has avenged or helped.

And Ancients are the lists long. There are Gothamites who were killed and avenged by the Red Hood, Gothamites who worked for him and are singing his praises, Gothamites who never met him but saw the good he was doing.

So, Danny's decision is as follows: he will head to the mortal world and fix whatever is wrong with this guy's core, and, as compensation for the accidental revival, subsequent trauma, and as thanks for helping so many of his subjects, the Red Hood will receive protection from all things undead, dead, or thereabouts, one of the rare medals of honor that the ghost zone bestows upon very helpful citizens, and Danny will make Crime Alley and the Bowery his official haunt.

It's simple enough. One Tuesday night, he sneaks into the current safehouse, leaves the medal and an official looking letter explaining it, fixes the Lazarus Pit Rage, and delineates the Red Hood's new haunt based on the directions from Gotham, who is more than happy to help after seeing her favorite child recognized for his good deeds.

Jason wakes up that Wednesday morning acutely aware of three muggings happening in Crime Alley, with the Pit Rage nothing more than a bad memory, and a medal on his kitchen table recognizing him for services to the Crown of the Dead, including avenging wronged souls.

He decides to just take the weird omniscient sense of stuff going wrong in the Alley at face value because he doesn't know what the fuck is happening.

Later, when Batman tries to enter the Alley, he finds himself unable to step past the border.

Paranoia ensues.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Red Knight in Shining Armour

Red Hood x Reader

wc: 1.3 K; part two summary: You ask Red Hood for help from a creep and he does so warnings: cat calling a/n: Something possessed me and I had to write this small drabble. Might consider writing more parts to it, dunno

Finally, you‘ve finished your shift in that overly warm bakery. After taking care of mostly elderly customers, baking fresh goods, and taking care of some more rather demanding customers, you could make your way home. The fresh february air hits you as you step before closing the small bakery, making your way to the busstop. Gotham is not known for warm or sunny weather, especially during the shortest month of the year. This is why you wrap your scarf tighter around you, making sure you won‘t catch a cold with the freezing wind that flies right against you. You eventually reach your desired destination, satisfied the bus is already standing there, possibly waiting for you.

As soon as you reach it, he cheekily drives away and leaves you waiting for the next bus… in two hours.

Now, of course you wouldn‘t wait two freezing hours around eleven PM in Gotham. It‘s probably safer and way faster to just walk the half an hour to your apartment. With that logic, you start trotting home, feeling a little moody now. What kind of bus driver just drives away even when a person clearly walks towards it? Muttering incoherent insults at the bus driver, you make sure to keep yourself warm enough at the same time. Your coat is doing a mostly good job at keeping you from trembling, so does your thick scarf. But you wish you brought your warm hat with you.

You tense at hearing heavy steps behind you. Sure, Gotham is definitely not the safest city, but you never had to actively protect yourself from any dangers because you always had the bus! That goddamn bus is driving you nuts, to the point you don‘t notice the strange man approaching you closer. He‘s about a few feet away from you now, finally raising his voice.

»Hey, princess! Are you lost?«

You finally glance behind your shoulder, not having expected for him to actually be a little closer to you now. Oh, he is taller than you. And has his hands in his pockets. This doesn‘t look good at all.

You quickly turn your head forward again, quickening your steps to get home faster and escape this creepy goon. He doesn‘t relent though and follows you, his hood over his head in a really suspicious way. You turn into a dark alley, cursing yourself internally for needing to go in there in order to get home faster. The alley is dark but also pretty long, as if a neverending hallway. Finally, the alleyway has an opening, walking a little faster again to escape the creep, but you also have to be careful not to slip on some ice.

A flash of red is appearing in the cornor of your eye, instinctively looking over to your side. Without further hesitancy, you hurry to the infamous vigilante and glance behind your shoulder briefly again.

»Red Hood! Please, there‘s someone following me, please pretend to be my boyfriend! Please!«

You plead desperately and stay by his side, your heart racing more from the paranoia of being followed and also from being so close to the real Red Hood, asking for help.

The vigilante doesn‘t flinch from his spot, studying you briefly before looking to the direction you just came from. The scary creep appears now too, eyes trained on you under his hood and possibly not even scared of the Crime Lord standing right beside you.

Without thinking, Red Hood wraps his arm around your shoulder and straightens his posture. The goon finally glances at him before his eyes fall back on you.

»C‘mon, sweetie, aren‘t you gonna spend time with me?« You shake your head urgently and press yourself more into Red‘s side, the hard material of his armour flush against your own soft coat.

»Does she know you?« The man beside you almost snarls, his voice a little distorted from his red helmet. An almost mocking scoff escapes the creep in front of you, staying there with some distance.

»Does it matter?«

A shudder runs down your spine at the words, making Red Hood squeeze your shoulder lightly with his hand.

He guides you to stand more behind him, glaring at the man under his helmet, feeling the strong urge to just beat him up into pieces. Still, he acts without any physical violence, not wanting to scare you even more.

»Listen here, you son of a bitch. Either, you go back the way you came here, or you won‘t recognise your face the next morning. If you‘ll wake up.«

He threatens, which makes the other man take a small step back. He seems to consider something, glancing to you as you still stand behind the vigilante. After what seems like a few minutes of tense silence, the weirdo walks away from you both.

You exhaled relievedly, stepping closer to Red Hood again.

»Thank you so much! You just probably saved my life from him, I don‘t know how to pay you back.«

He looks to you again, his expression unreadable due to his helmet. But he does shake his head and holds one of his hands up lightly.

»No need to, lady. I‘m always here for help, don‘t worry.«

Red feels lightly weird calming down a random person, but he feels like he needs to. After all, he just pried a man – a really creepy bastard – from you. And it feels wrong to ask for something in return for it. He never does that sort of stuff.

»Well, still… You know what? You can visit my bakery, I‘ll give you a treat. On the house, of course!«

He feels surprised at your request, thinking over your suggestion for a moment.

»I‘ll see what I can do.« He pauses before saying goodbye, glancing around the area briefly.

»Do you need a ride home? It‘s not safe around midnight.«

Now it‘s your turn to be surprised, mulling over the suggestion. It‘s only twenty minutes until you‘re back home safely, but you also don‘t want to be a further bother to him. Eventually, you decide to be truthful.

»I was just planning on walking the last twenty minutes home. I don‘t want to bother you any longer...«

Another sudden wind goes past you, which makes you wrap your scarf tighter around your neck again, the action not going unnoticed by him. Finally, despite his own pride, he suggests taking you home with his bike. You feel star-struck, never having thought someone like him – no, Red Hood would give you a ride home. After saving you, too.

Not able to miss such an opportunity, you agree, and he helps you put on his extra helmet for the quick ride. Luckily, he knows this area of the city well, just needing the name of your address, and he knows which route he needs to take.

»Hold on tight, yeah?« At this point, he muted his comms, as well as the others, not wanting for them to hear you both and the other way around. He starts driving you back to your apartment complex, feeling a small thrill as you sit behind him and have your arms wrapped around his torso. Every time he makes a turn, you hold on even tighter to him, not used to riding a motorcycle at all.

Eventually, after some minutes of driving, you arrive, and he helps you get off the bike. You take off the extra helmet he gave you, ruffling your hair to let it look less messy from the helmet. He watches, taking the helmet from you, and eventually leaves on his bike, but not without memorising your street and face. Just in case.

Finally, you made it home, having a big story to tell your best friend tomorrow morning at work.

»You‘ve got a girlfriend now, Jaybird?«

Dick‘s smug voice chimes into his earpiece once he turns the comms on again.

»None of your business, Dickhead.« Jason grumbles back, earning a brief scolding from Bruce to use their callsigns again.

←MASTERLIST

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

imagine like reader being a detective or something, being on the case to catch Red Hood (while he’s still a crime boss)/ the Arkham Knight, but being in a relationship with Jason, unaware of his nightly business. And then boom, they find out one day and it’s all angsty 🤞🤞 love ur work btw hihi

Betrayal

Hi, nonnie! I thought I had this done earlier, but then I had to keep world building. Stuck with Red Hood on this one. Hurt/No comfort warning. Non-graphic, very minor character death. ~1.8k words

Gotham is cursed. That's what they told you when you transfered to the GCPD. Yeah, you've heard the stories, but they're just messing with you, right? Trying to scare the newest rookie cop.

Except they were telling the truth. A few years later, more cases than you can keep track of, enough masked rouges to fill arkham three times over, and a promotion to detective, you tell the rookies the same thing they told you. Gotham is cursed.

"Alright, Detective, this one is yours." You make a face at the case file the Commissioner drops on your desk.

"Sir, I took care of The Penguin robbery last week, isn't it someone elses turn to deal with the high profile cases?" You gingerly pick up the file, reading over the name Red Hood stamped on the front.

Gordan sighs at you, already turning away to move onto the next poor detective. "We cycled through everyone else after the Black Gate breakout. Anyone who didn't work on it has active cases. That makes this one yours."

You grumble reluctantly, cases like this lead to more press coverage than you want to deal with, but start flipping through the file, mentally noting down the sparse facts and theories about the up and coming crime lord.

That was four months ago. In such a short amount of time, Red Hood has taken over more territory in Gotham than any other crime lord and completely changed the game. No dealing to children, no human trafficking. You hate to acknowledge it, but crime technically has dropped since he took over the majority of gangs in Gotham under an iron fist.

The work is exhausting, he's always one– no, five steps ahead of you and your growing team of detectives and beat cops. You don't think you've even gotten a real glimpse at him that he didn't mean to let you have.

The closest you've gotten to Red Hood was out of uniform, weeks after you got the case, when he was still a new name on the streets.

It was a robbery, some desperate punk in a mask that didn't conceal anything, was dragging a little girl out of the store as a hostage.

"Take me instead, she's just a kid." You had protested, heart sinking at the terror in the little girls face.

"Not a chance." He barked back at you.

"Look, she's scared, she'll only slow you down."

The gunman stares at you, you see his fingers twitch. "Fuck it. Fine. Both of you are coming with me." That's how you ended up in some alley, familiar sirens wailing in the distance and your hand curled protectively with the child's.

"Shit. Man. Shit. The cops weren't supposed to be here. What am I gonna do? I can't go to jail." He's snapping. Rambling and desperate. Your eyes dart for some kind of plan, a way to help the little girl stay safe. But the alley is empty, not even a dumpster to seek shelter behind. "I just gotta get rid of the witnesses. Yeah. The witnesses."

Your eyes dart to him, he's lifting the gun. You don't hesitate to grab the little girl, wrapping your arms around her and turning your back to the man, tucking her to your chest to provide as much cover as you can provide.

A gun fires.

There's a thud.

You look over your shoulder, the girls face still hidden against you. He's not moving, gun unshot and laying next to him on the ground. There's a pool of dark liquid forming around him. You look up.

You manage to see a red glint, the shine of a gun, the eerie glow of a luminescent eyes. Red Hood.

That's all you manage to see before you're swarmed by cops, guiding you and the girl to safety.

It's a memory that plays in your mind sometimes, when you hear testimonies of how Red Hood saves people in crime alley, despite his crime lord status. It's confusing, exhausting even, to try and sort between the good and the bad, the duality of one man. At least you have your loving boyfriend to come home to.

Jason. He makes you feel like Gotham might not be so cursed. It's great, he gives you butterflies. He makes you happy. You cook meals together, and you both work the weird twilight/night shift hours. He holds you like you're precious under your shared comforter. You think you might love him. He whispers sweet nothings into your hair when he thinks you're sleeping. You kiss his palms when his eyes get that far away, haunted look he can’t seem to explain.

He's insisted on cooking dinner tonight as you watch him, a little starry eyed. You can't really blame yourself when he's shirtless and working over your favorite meal.

"Oh, Jason, I need to wash my clothes. Do you need anything done?" You ask, finally remembering that you do actually have a job and responsibilities and you can't stare at your handsome boyfriend all day.

"No, I'm good, baby. Go ahead and do your thing. Dinner's almost done." He answers idly, shooting you a lazy grin as you stand.

You smile back before leaving the kitchen to gather your clothes. As you dump the dirty laundry in the washer, you realize you never refilled the detergent. Mumbling an annoyed curse, you head to the spare bedroom you rarely use. There should be some extra necessities stock piled in there. You know, for the next time a criminal messes with Gothams chain supply.

You're more focused on the delicious smells floating through the apartment as you open the closet door, idly looking around for the detergent. That's why it doesn't really click in your mind what you're looking at. Guns. Armor. Your thoughts freeze to a stop. Are you dating some kind of henchman? A bright red helmet takes up your vision. Nope. You're dating a crime boss.

The helmet is in your hands and you're fumbling your way to the kitchen before you even have your thoughts sorted. Should you call for back up? Shouldn't you try to catch him by surprise? Sure. But, you need answers. You want this to be a misunderstanding. You want Jason to be your partner– not– not what the evidence that's heavy in your hand says he is.

Statistics run through your mind. Stories of Red Hood saving working girls. Stories of him leaving bodies of dealers that sold to kids. Then, memories of your boyfriend. How he leans down to kiss your forehead. How runs his hand up and down your arm while you watch movies together. If there was a sign. If you were too blind and in love to realize.

He turns to look at you when you stalk in. You throw the helmet at him. The helmet you'd recognize anywhere, even if you've never gotten close enough to touch it before. He catches it with the grace of a predator. "The hell is this, Jason?"

"It's a helmet." He says evenly, turning off the stove and placing the helmet down on the counter.

"No, duh, it's a helmet, Jason. Don't patronize me. Is it yours?" You nearly hiss, hands curling in anger and frustration and heart break you're not ready to admit you're feeling.

He studies you, eyes dark and calculating. It makes you bite the inside of you cheek. His eyes never looked at you like that before. "It is."

You laugh out of disbelief, stepping back. "So you've been using me? Is that what all this was? Just a way to get information about the GCPD and what we had on you?"

"What? No." He says your name a little pleading, "it's not like that. Not anymore."

"But it was." You bite out, cursing yourself for the sting of tears in your eyes.

He steps closer, you step back, trying to keep your hands from shaking. He whispers your name, and you think you see hurt flash in his eyes before it disappears. His voice goes steady, even. "It was. But I haven't tried to get anything like that since–"

"Since when, Jason?" You cut off, anger and hurt clear in your voice, in your face. "Was it before we raided the warehouse at the docks? Is my computer bugged? Did you hack my phone?"

He winces. You don't need to be a detective to know he has. "I haven't used them since we started getting serious."

"And when was that, Jason?" You ask, voice breaking at his name. "Because it's been serious this entire time for me."

He doesn't answer at first, gaze leaving you to stare at his helmet. "Since I– I saw you save that kid. Instead of going after that shooter. When I realized you weren't just another one of the corrupted cops. That you care about this city. And the people. I realized I couldn't keep doing that to you."

You go quiet. What can you say to that? "Were you ever going to tell me?" You settle on.

"I don't know." He shrugs helplessly, eyes leaving the helmet to meet your teary gaze. "I didn't know how. I don't– think I wanted you to know. " He stutters over his last sentence, and then says your name, pleading coming back to his tone. "I can't lose you over this."

"You never had me!" Your voice raises, a shout in anger before you can bury it down. You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively and lowering your voice. "You never had me if everything this was was built on a lie."

"It's not a lie." He says firmly, snapping to attention and stepping towards you. He gestures between the two of you, says your name like he demands your attention. "This is not a lie."

"It is, Jason! You're only here to gain something from me! From my job!" You push back, throat tight and head spinning. Maybe you shouldn't be yelling at Gothams most dangerous and deadliest crime boss, but your heart is too broken for your head to think straight.

"No, pretty." You think he's pleading. You think his mouth might even be trembling as he speaks, but you can't make it out through the tears in your eyes. "No. It was like that at first. I know. I know that hurts you, but, it's not like that now. It's nowhere near that now."

"I don't care." You choke out.

"You don't mean that." Jason protests, but he doesn't sound certain.

"I don't want to see you anymore." You say the words before you're even sure you want that.

His face drops. "You don't mean that either."

"I do." It tastes like a lie. It sounds like the truth. You're turning and leaving before he can speak again, before you can unpack what you really want, locking yourself in the bathroom.

You fall asleep to the sound of your own tears, curled on the cold tile floor. You wake to silence. His helmet is gone from your counter when you enter the kitchen.

Your favorite dinner is wrapped in plastic when you open the fridge.

It makes the truth of it all worse. Gotham really is cursed.

Part Two

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Dick, and Jason reacting to his gn crush told him that they know his secret identity so he would let them bandage his wounds?

Dick

‘You knew?’ Dick said as he sat himself down on your bed, his face covered in bandaids as his arms covered with bandages, dressed in comfortable clothing after a long struggle due to his injuries. ‘How?’

‘There were signs that I ignored or didn’t think to look too deeply in until I did, just for everything to come together and realising that my initial assumptions were close to being right.’ You shrugged as you sat down next to him, looking him over to make sure that you had managed to patch up every possible injury he had, hoping he wasn’t hiding one without your knowledge.

‘That or maybe you just wanted an excuse to patch up my wounds. Or seeing me shirtless as I’m patching up my wounds, one or the other.’ Dick teased but couldn’t help but think of all the possible danger you were now going to be in due to knowing who Nightwing was, and while he wasn’t ready to admit to everything he does as nightwing to you, he knew that if he didn’t then you wound find a way to figure it out on your own somehow.

‘Maybe.’ You said, trying to hide your feelings of sheepishness from him. ‘That or the fact that I know you well enough to see through that domino mask of yours, something that doesn’t do much to hide the more easily recognisable features.’ You add as Dick then sighs.

‘You shouldn’t know this, you really shouldn’t.’ He tells you as he reaches for your hand, squeezing it. ‘I know you were smart enough to connect the dots but I don’t think it would happen so soon. I just wish you would’ve stayed naïve to it for a little while longer, just until I was ready and felt that it was safe enough to say something.’ He looks you in the eyes where you could see his conflicting emotions there. ‘I just wanted to keep you safe from all this, but I failed at that too.’

‘Life doesn’t work the way we always want it to.’ You began, squeezed his hand back in reassurance, ‘I know that from this point onward it won’t be easy for either of us, I’ll have a target on my back but I have made peace with that fact-‘

‘Well I haven’t.’ Dick interrupts. ‘You could be in danger because of me,’ he then uses his free hand to hold your cheek, ‘how am I meant to be okay with this knowing that I might not be able to save you.’

You smiled at him and leaned into his touch, careful of his injuries. ‘You’ll always save me, you’re Nightwing.’ You tell him before giving him a light, reassuring kiss on the forehead.

Jason

‘I’m telling you baby bird I tripped.’ Jason said for what felt like the fifth time that night as you continued to pester him about the gash on his arm.

‘Or you were out being Red hood and gotten hurt protecting some kids from Crime Alley.’ You replied casually as Jason stiffened, now looking at you surprised.

‘Why would you assume i’m him?’ He asked, watching you closely as the fear of the consequences this knowledge would bring, especially when it was someone close to his heart knowing his -now not so- secret identity.

‘You come back with injuries more severe than just tripping over thin air.’ You told him as you held his cheek. ‘That and I may or may not have seen firearms left lying about whenever I visit and thought nothing of it, only to do some research and have come to find that those are the same exact firearms Red hood has.’ You add as Jason internally curses himself for getting too comfortable with leaving his stuff out in the open so carelessly.

Fatigue be damned.

‘Okay you’ve figured me out, congratulations, but you really shouldn’t know that I’m Red hood, I’m not exactly well liked.’ He warns you, not wanting you to get hurt because of him, if you did he wouldn’t forgive himself for as long as he lived.

Loosing you wasn’t worth keeping his secret identity under lock and key. He’d gladly expose himself if it meant keeping you away from harm, but until then he knew that he’d have to keep close tabs on you whenever he could.

Or he could train you in self defence while still watching over you regardless.

‘I know.’ You tell him as you patched up the wound on his arm. ‘But when am I allowed to worry of over for doing something reckless.’

‘I was trained for this lifestyle sweetheart.’ Jason reminded you. ‘I’m more attuned to fighting crime and getting hurt doing so, it’s not a big deal.’

‘It’s a big deal to me.’ You spat, blinking back tears, ‘ I don’t want to see you come home with wounds worse then the last, worried to death that I might loose you.’ You add as you began to cover up the wound on his arm with a gauze before moving onto to adding the bandage securely.

‘Well I don’t want to loose you either.’ Jason said as he lifted his free hand to wipe away the tears that manage to fall from your cheek. ‘My identity is not worth your life baby bird. Not in the slightest. I won’t risk you, you’re too important to me to lose over this.’

‘More important than Red hood?’ You asked, not wanting to ruin the moment between you two.

‘So much more than you’ll ever know.’ Jason replied without hesitation.

[frownyalfred]

You ever think that Bruce must've built in some type of handle/grip into the Robins suits so he'd have an easy way to drag them out of danger? The suit would otherwise be designed to do the opposite, after all any obvious grips/handholds would be a danger in a fight.

So just imagine the most easily hidden spot for a hidden grip. Hidden away in the middle of their back at the top of their uniform and the Bat picking up his tiny colorful child like one would scruff a cat.

It's originally a bailout method so he can grab Dick and get out if he decides it's too dangerous. With Jason he uses it much more to stop fights than to leave them. Lifting Jason completely off the ground until he's holding his twig of a child as he swears like only a crime alley kid can.

Wait anon because I was LITERALLY thinking about Bruce’s suit modifications the other day. The secret ones. The ones he builds in like the paranoid bastard he is.

You know that scene in the first Kingsman movie where Eggsy thinks he’s singled out to be missing a parachute and then Merlin pulls his chute in front of everyone? I want Bruce to have done that somehow.

Jason accuses him of not caring (maybe it’s his Red Hood armor?) and Bruce just walks up and pulls the super secret handle that turns the suit into a protective shell. He cares. He just can’t say it out loud sometimes.

[prlssprfctn]

Since we all agree that people of the Alley of Crime adore Red Hood and believe in him, I think it is time to imagine Jason in a scene similar to the one from OG Spiderman, where his identity is accidentally outted in front of crowd of people, and they all are just choose to protect him and help him out.

So maybe Gotham is facing especially nasty trouble, and vigilantes are on the receiving end this time. So maybe Jason is thrown at the dirty Alley in his part of town, wounded, with helmet flying off, and there is just a crowd of people staring as bleeds out, astonished. And Jason thinks, oh, that's the end — he can go and shoot himself, honestly, because he just failed the man rule every vigilante have: never show your face, never reveal your identity.

But people are... helping him? His eyes are half-open, breath laboured and pained, but all he hears is gentle murmuring:

'God, he is just a kid...'

'He must be younger than my son.'

'Poor child...'

He feels soft elderly hand against his cheek as someone from the crowd, an ex nurse, comes closer to bandage his injuries, while a kid, barely with the size of his helmet, brings it back, sticking out their tongue as they try to place it back on his head, to hide his face.

'It is okay,' the old woman reassures him. 'You are safe with us, son. We hadn't seen anything.'

Jason's eyes sting, because, oh.

It is his people. He loves them. He will die for them.

And they love him just as much.

He still waits for someone to out him, though. But the week ends, the villain is out of the picture, and no one says a thing. The only proof that it ever happened is civilians, who keep waving at Jason — not Red Hood, just Jason — when their paths cross somewhere in the shops or streets.

And that's how he knows that it is them; it is them, and they keep him safe as much as he keeps safe them.

[brucewaynehater101]

Alright. Willis Todd being an abusive father to Jason is a trope often utilized. Comparing this version of him to Bruce's reactions to Red Hood is fantastic. Lots to analyze there.

However, I raise you. There needs to be more fanwork addressing the classism behind Willis Todd being characterized as an abusive alcoholic. In some version of canon, Willis Todd was a good dad in a shitty situation. He was poor, his wife (Catherine) was sick, and he had a newborn baby he needed to provide for. In this horrid situation, where he has no family to fall back on and no higher education to obtain a decent well-paying job, he tries to get quick money. He's desperate to keep both his wife and son alive.

Catherine turns to drugs because it's easier and cheaper to buy drugs than healthcare. The pain she experiences is debilitating, and she'd do anything to not feel pain for one godsdamned second. Unfortunately, this turns into an addiction.

This ultimately shapes the way that Jason views crime. Bruce, while he may be sympathetic to individuals who resort to crime to pay their bills, will not understand huddling in Crime Alley in the dead of winter as he debates whether to buy food or pay for heating. He won't understand the bitterness, hatred, pain, and resignation of never having enough money to survive as you get chewed up again and again.

If Jason's dad is just an abusive criminal, that not only perpetuates the notion that all criminals are evil, but it will shape how Jason views those who commit crime. Breaking the law doesn't make someone bad. There's plenty of reasons people commit crime, whether to survive, protect someone, or something else. The issue, especially in Gotham, is the system that perpetuates wealth inequality through bribes and unethical governmental practices.

Anyway, I think Jason's Red Hood is more fleshed out if it accounts for him acknowledging the desperation behind goons and small-time criminals because he grew up without other options.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

It started back when he was 16.

His parents found out about him and Vlad thanks to the fruitloop being an idiot and practically outing them both. Danny was so lucky that he had planned for a situation like this. He had go-bags ready with a few changes of clothes, a thermos, some weapons, a star projector, lots of money from Sam and enough medical supplies to make a hospital jealous.

It was a good thing too, after crippling the GIW and destroying all the gear they and the Fentons had they destroyed their research and everything ghost related. Vlad at this point was already dead so he wasn't much of a concern.

Dannys had landed in an alley in a new dimension, only problem now was the parting shot his mother gave him on his back. Due to the placement of it Danny couldn't reach to treat it properly and he didn't know anyone in this dimension who could help him.

Thats when his ghost sense went off. He groaned, hoping he wouldn't have to fight a new ghost in this state when a man in a red helmet (Mask?) walked up to him and motioned for peace.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The man said gently, "I just wanna look at that injury, maybe help."

Danny stared at him. He didn't feel anything off about the guy and Danny prided himself on being a good judge of character. "Okay." He scooted himself around so his back was exposed to the stranger.

"Wow, you're really not from around here." Danny stiffened, had he been tricked? The man made no moves to hurt him, just got to work tending to his wound. The man was swift, and aside from the slight sting of an ointment he didn't recognize there was no pain at all.

Once Danny was all patched up the guy made to leave, "Wait!" Danny called out and the man halted, "Who are you?" The man turned his head to look back at him, still facing away from him, "Red Hood."

As it turned out, Red Hood was the new up and coming crime lord who everyone was talking about. He came seemingly out of nowhere and was making a lot of waves in Gothams underbelly. Gotham...so this was Dannys new haunt.

Danny wanted to protect it but...he wanted to protect Red Hood even more. So when he heard about Red Hood forming a gang he made a decision. He gathered up materials to make his own supervillian outfit- basically an all black outfit with a long hooded coat and combat boots- and to add the finishing touch he put on a all white gas mask that he had made himself, complete with a voice modulator, night vision, heat vision, etc. If Hood ever wanted him to prove it was him he could make his mask glow using his ghost powers. Not that it was needed. Hood seemed to be able to sense him in a similar way that Danny could but in a much much smaller range.

With that being said, hoods men didn't trust him at first, which was fair considering he just started randomly appearing at their operations and helping them out...by force usually. They weren't sure what to make of him but Danny didn't want to go through the usual goon enlistment process as Hood would want to know his name and face and everything else and Phantom was...well a phantom.

Danny liked to hide, even in plain sight. He couldn't deny the little game of cat and mouse they had was fun. Hood would try to follow him home or track him or get him to take off the mask and Phantom would dodge his attempts every time.

It took a while, but Red Hood did eventually come to trust him, going so far as to make Danny his right hand man after 3 years of working together, though that may also be because he had rarely failed any of the tasks Hood had given him.

Maybe thats why he never told any of the bats about him. He had picked up that there was something between Hood and the bats but he never could figure out what it was without prying into his bosses personal life. Still, it was rather shocking when Red Hood showed up one day with a large red bat symbol splayed across his chest.

It also made him look at how freaking chiseled his boss was. He couldn't count how many times he had to drag his eyes away from his abs and chastise himself for thinking that way.

Danny was in love with a man whos face he would never see. But that was fine. He was happier standing by this man's side and yearning than he ever was back in Amity and it wasn't like Hood knew his face or name either.

-----------

He felt like a halfa though an incomplete one. He had a core but it felt hollow, like the soul was forcibly removed somehow and only emotions remained. Hood gained a bad reputation for flying into a monstrous rage but was always calm when Danny was near, a fact that even Red Hood himself seemed to pick up on.

Hood began to fall for his second in command pretty quickly, always trying to feed him and take care of him (as is his love language) while Danny was openly obsessed with assuring Hoods safety and well being even going so far as to use his powers (that no one knows about) to overshadow a computer and hack into the bats systems to make sure Hood was okay after a prolonged period of him being MIA.

The bats are freaked but Danny being Danny gets lucky and they always seem to miss his trail by a hair. Lucky ghost.

Things start going sideways when Fenton tech starts showing up in this new dimension only for Danny to find out his parents have remade the portal and are looking for him. The bats are being hunted by his parents and and the now rogue government agency the GIW. Danny tries to explain things to Hood without compromising his own secrets but once the newest Robin gets captured and Hood freaks Danny puts everything on the line to go rescue the stabby bird.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Do you have any DC ideas that aren't crossovers

I fear you may have missed the point of my blog, but if this is a genuine question, I did have a fic idea I was considering writing. It's more of a floating idea that I could work on someday.

It would be Tim Drake-centric, with him killed while on a mission after bringing Bruce back from the timeline. The top members of the Justice Leauge feel awkward around him and don't know how to apologize, leading Tim to just drift away from everyone.

He went from a beloved friend and trusted leader to someone they rarely turn to, and Tim thinks it was because they thought he was crazy. This creates a gap between his command of a team and his determination to do everything on his own.

It would be an avoidable ancient, so Tim is killed when they fail to ask him for a plan and unknowingly blow his cover. He thinks they did it on purpose, dying without knowing the broken pieces he left behind.

He wakes in his own grave months later and realizes he came back on his own like Jason. He claws his way out of his own grave, sits in front of it for a while, and decides he no longer wants to be a part of the hero scene.

They let him die.

So, instead, Tim creates a new identity and chooses to live among the regular citizens of Gotham. Since he no longer has access to the Wayne or Drake funds- as even hacking the accounts would create a lead to him- he has to slum it until he can make enough money to start somewhere new. He keeps his training out of habit, keeps his head down, and avoids crime or crime-fighting like the plague. \

He's Alvin Draper, a law-abiding GED student working two part-time jobs. That's all there is to it.

Tim doesn't know that he may have woken up in Gotham, but not his Gotham. He's in a different dimension, having taken over the body of Tim Drake of this world and accidentally breathing life back into the corpse.

Oh, and another big difference is that this is a Reverse Robin world where Damian is the eldest and Dick is the youngest. That means Tim should have been this world's Jason, which means he stopped Red Hood from existing. Also, his family is slightly different as Bruce's first son was a bloodthirsty accident that both had to learn to soften. It also means Damian was secure enough in his spot in the family that he adored Tim when he came to the manor.

He was devastated to learn his brother had died and laches on to Jason and Dick in a more protective manner as a result. Then baby Dick, at the ripe age of twelve, spots Alvin working at a pizzeria in Crime Alley when Jason takes him to see his old stomping grounds.

He's older than when Tim died, but Dick is convinced Alvin is somehow related to his adoptive dad's deceased second son, and when no one believes him- it's been years since Tim died, not months- he decides to get proof on his own.

Tim is unaware that the cute blond kid that comes around for hours on end is his once older brother Dick Grayson, who is determined to bring him to a home that was never his.

[yasmindifference]

12!

Tim is only halfway through his explanation of the case he's been working when Bruce sighs and says, "I'll bring Hood in."

He's so astonished by this idiocy that it genuinely takes him a few seconds to recover; he has to run to catch up. Then, since he's running anyway, he uses his momentum to slide into place a few steps ahead, blocking Batman's path.

In the Cave, that's more symbolic than anything--there's plenty of room to go around him--and B respects that much, at least. He stops in his tracks.

"No, you won't," Tim says very clearly.

Batman frowns. "Red Robin."

"Batman," he returns, and Batman's frown deepens.

He's wearing the cowl now, having pulled it on as he walked--steeling himself for what he's decided he has to do. Shutting Bruce away so his paternal affection doesn't slow him down.

As usual, he's being a complete moron. World's Greatest Detective, Tim's ass.

"Red Robin," Batman says again, "your attachment to Red Hood--"

"--has nothing to do with this," Tim interrupts. "Jason didn't do it."

His pointed use of Jason's actual name goes unacknowledged; Batman sets his shoulders to loom and doubles down.

"The victim profile is clearly in line with Hood's usual targets," he says. "The victim's own victims were children, specifically children from Crime Alley, and his crimes against them were exactly the kind that Hood punishes the most severely. You can't deny that."

He's using the Batman growl and still looming over Tim...why, Tim's not exactly sure. It's not like he ever backed down from this kind of display even when he was a literal child facing down a Batman half-mad with grief. As an adult and a vigilante in his own right, who's been facing down the city's, world's, and occasionally galaxy's worst for nearly a decade...Batman is barely going to make him blink.

So he meets the eerie white lenses of the cowl straight on when he says, "No, I can't deny any of that. But Jason still didn't do it."

"You're being unrealistic," Batman says sharply. "Basing your conclusion on emotion instead of fact."

"No, that would be you," Tim corrects, just as sharp. "You're blinded by your issues with Jason's way of doing things. If you were actually thinking straight--"

"Hood makes a habit of targeting rapists, pedophiles, and anyone who breaks his so-called 'rules' in the territory he claims as his." Batman looms harder. "All three apply to the victim. What evidence do you have to support his innocence?"

"The fact that this isn't how Jason works."

Batman's face blanks out, scowl wiped away as he forcefully suppresses his reaction to Tim's words.

"Hood has never agreed with the no-kill rule," he says, "and despite our truce, he never committed to not using lethal force. It was only a matter of time before he crossed the line again, and this is precisely how he likes to 'punish' those he deems guilty."

Tim has to take a second to deliberately calm himself before he can trust his voice. His hands ache for how tightly he's fisted them.

"No," he says, once he's sure his voice won't shake with the anger trembling in his fists. "No, it isn't."

"Tim--"

"It's true that Jason isn't opposed to lethal force," he says over Batman. "It's also true that he particularly targets people who break his rules and/or prey on children. But not like this!"

If he were anyone but Batman, Tim would say Bruce falters.

"Explain."

Tim doesn't hesitate.

"Yes, Jason is willing to kill," he says. "Yes, he'll even make it hurt if the crime is bad enough. But his goal isn't to punish anyone--it's to protect people."

Batman's flat expression--what little Tim can see of it beyond the cowl, at least--says he doesn't appreciate the difference.

Tim tries again. "Jason doesn't kill because he enjoys it, he kills because he thinks it's the only way to stop the worst of the worst. That's why he goes after the people the system can't or won't contain."

Still, Batman is unmoved. Tim gets to the point.

"Our victim was tortured over the course of several hours," he says again. It was one of the first lines in his little presentation on the case, and should have immediately disqualified Jason as a potential perpetrator. "I estimate at least twelve hours passed between the infliction of the first wound and his death, which was the result of a combination of shock and blood loss."

"You said that already," Batman says, unamused.

"Yes, and you should've known that it ruled out Jason!" Tim snaps. "If Jason had done this, he might have, have kneecapped the guy first, or shot him in the gut, or something, because yes, he'd have wanted to make him hurt. But the death still would have been measured in minutes, because at the end of the day, Jason's main priority is to end suffering, not cause it."

For a long, tense moment, Batman stares at him. Tim's trembling with emotion--not just anger that Batman is doubting him, but fear at what Batman might do to Jason if Tim can't stop him.

For all of Bruce's talk about Jason crossing lines...when it comes to Jason, Bruce tends to cross plenty himself.

Finally, Batman (and he is still so very Batman) says, "I wish I could believe that, but I can't."

"Then believe in me," Tim says, seizing the opening at once. "Just give me a day or two, okay? I'll find the real killer and prove that Jason didn't do this."

After either a few seconds or a lifetime, Batman finally--finally--backs down.

"You have a week," he says, and turns away. "And if you're wrong..."

Tim isn't about to humor that ominous trailing off. "I'm not. You'll see."

"I hope so," Bruce says quietly.

Prompt #12 was one character standing up for the other! Good choice! ♡♡