#Todd is stronger than I am

[kiraxo]

I absolutly LOVE Mr Keating, but if he did that impromtu poem scene to me I would never ever forgive him, no matter how good a teacher he might be, I definitely would've start crying on the spot.

[robin-the-enby]

Hello!! Could I request some sweeney todd x reader heavy fluff please? thanks!

Marked by an angel

Pairing: Sweeney Todd x gn!reader

Smmary: A chance meeting of two strange people on Fleet street. What started just as part of your job lead you to finding a new friend and perhaps...a lover.

Warnings: hints of murder (it's Sweeney, c'mon), unfair boss/employee dynamic, description of getting robbed and bruises (1 blackeye)

A/N: After what felt like an eternity, I am back! I am so glad I finished this. I was dealing with mental issues, financial struggles, work and uni so I had no time and time or energy to do anything. But I am very happy to post this! Maybe it's not as fluffy as you wanted and for that I am sorry, but I feel like it is as true to the character as possible :) I'll gladly hear your feedback on this piece and all likes, but especially reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! Also, if you'd like to hear some bonus stuff about this oneshot, feel free to shoot me a message!

There are many men in the world. And yet you can't say you've ever met anyone the likes of Mr. Todd.

The quiet barber from Fleet street. With his pale complexion, white streaked hair and dark eyes that held the depths of the ocean that surrounds Britain. He had captured your attention the very first time you made an appointment with him for your boss. The recommendations for his shop floated around your part of town and all the gentlemen could not seem to praise his skills enough.

Your boss had ordered you to find him a new barber, since his old one was ripping him off on money. Not that you blamed the poor bloke, times were tough, prices high and it wasn't like your boss couldn't spare a few pounds, especially since he liked to have his hair and beard trimmed once a month. Luckily, you managed to talk him out of getting the authorities involved, knowing that if the man was to be jailed, it would take a massive toll on his family.

Your job as an errand person, a sort of secretary, was simple enough in theory. You followed your boss around, a businessman dealing in produce from a few farms that he owned in the countryside. All you had to do was carry a notepad and a pencil with you to scribble down tasks that had to be managed and appointments that had to be made or dealt with. But in reality your legs were probably stronger than most people's, with how many steps you walked every day. Even though it wasn't in your job description, you did everything your boss didn't want to, went everywhere he wasn't exactly needed. You swore that the lazy bastard would have you walking to the latrine instead of him, if it were possible.

That was one of the reasons you liked the visits to the barber's, because you got to just sit on a chair by the window for an hour at least, quietly listening to the conversation made between your boss and the man grooming him, only occasionally having to scribble down one thing or another. But ever since your boss started to frequent Mr. Todd's shop, the rest wasn't the only reason accompanying your boss there was enjoyable or you.

Mr. Todd was an enigma. Mostly silent during work and outside of it, you learnt to appreciate the sound of his voice and to study his body language, little quirks that gave off pieces of his personality. The way his eyes flitted around, scanning the face of his customer for any imperfections that needed to be dealt with. His hands were steady, working seemingly without relying on his eyes or even brain, with a level of discipline you haven't seen before in your life. And from time to time, his eyes would flick up to meet yours, for a fraction of a second, before falling back down to your boss, lounging on Mr. Todd's intricate chair. You wondered why it had to be so intricate, compared to other barbers you've seen in your career, but you didn't question it, just as you never questioned the way the man's eyes would inevitably get stuck on your boss' neck every once in a while for some reason that had yet to reveal itself to you.

Maybe it was morbid curiosity or some other strange pull that made you want to find out just what was the cause of the deep emotion swirling behind Sweeney's eyes. The kind of pull that made sure the mysterious barber did not leave your mind for longer than a few hours. So you started to come around to the meat pie shop right under Mr. Todd's. The shop owner, Mrs. Lovett, was a sweet and terribly lonely woman, whose meat pies were, also, quickly gaining popularity around its part of town, and it didn't take long for her to take a shine to you as soon as she recognised you as one of her regulars.

While making a new friend wasn't your primary goal when you started hanging around the pie shop, you didn't mind how Mrs. Lovett warmed up to you. She was a sweet and funny woman, in her own way, and you soon recognised she was also dealing with romantic feelings towards Mr. Todd, as she confided in you one day. These feelings were unreciprocated, as far as you knew, although Sweeney visited the shop every night, coming down to fetch his dinner, for free of course. He usually came around after closing his own shop, sometimes even later, when even Mrs. Lovett closed down for the night. He would walk past you two sharing a glass of wine and exchanged a quiet and smooth, although cold 'good evening', before taking a pie and disappearing upstairs again.

But the longer you kept visiting Mrs. Lovett, the more Sweeney started to notice you. Once in a blue moon he would share a glass of wine with you both as you would more or less listen to Minnie ramble about this and that. After some time, one night, when Sweeney was upstairs and you were spending an evening at the pie shop, Mrs. Lovett told you cheekily that Mr. Todd asked about you, how you and her met and why you were around so much. Despite her mischievous smile you felt as if he was wary of your presence here, which puzzled you, but it did not deter you from wanting to get to know the man more.

In the end, it was him who made the first move, and you didn't even realise until much later. One time, when you were accompanying your boss for his monthly trim, Sweeney suggested that he should come around more often, at least every two weeks, because it would do wonders for his hair and beard health. It was evident your boss had no idea whether that was true or not, so he looked at you for confirmation. You shared a look with the barber, through which you tried to communicate to him that if he was planning to swindle your boss, it would be on your head, but something in those dark eyes of his made you trust him, so you confirmed to your boss that yes, coming to the barber more often would not only be beneficial to his hair, but it would also be good for appearances.

From that point on you got closer with the barber much faster than you could even register. One night, as you were sitting at the table in the pie shop across Minnie, nursing your second glass of wine and venting out frustration from your job, Sweeney came down to get his dinner. Before he left though, he stopped in the door to the kitchen, where the pies were made, and stared at you for a while, gaze calculating, but not as cold as you were used to. With the alcohol flowing through your veins you called him out on it, to which he simply replied "Your hair. It would do good with a trimming." before turning around on his heel and walking out. Mrs. Lovett cursed his lack of etiquette and assured you that you looked fine, although getting a trim wouldn't be a bad idea. She knew that given what your job was, you didn't have much time left to treat yourself.

The next time you accompanied your boss to his barber appointment yet again, Sweeney brought up the subject as your boss left you to pay. "Have you thought about my offer?" You blinked up at him, not knowing for a second what he meant, before his eyes shifted to your hair and you understood what he was implying. Feeling the heat rising to your cheeks, you tried to keep your cool as you asked, just to be sure "You meant that you would trim my hair?" You didn't want your voice to come out as unsure and surprised as it did, but if Sweeney noticed it, and something told you he did, the barber didn't mention it or let it show. He only smirked the slightest bit, making you wonder later if you didn't just imagine it, and replied "Well, at this point I would be offended if the first person you tasked with such a job wasn't me. Or do you deem my skills inadequate?" he raised his brow as he jokingly asked, knowing well what your answer would be. Feeling as hot as a boiled potato, you quickly settled the date of your appointment before you were out the door, so that your boss wouldn't scold you for dilly dallying.

When the day of your appointment came, you felt strangely nervous, your legs slightly shaking as you walked up the stairs to Sweeney's dark shop. For some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling of cattle being herded to a butcher. You chalked it up to your crush making you nervous, but that feeling only intensified when Sweeney positioned the barber chair you had sat on, so that you were half laying down. And yet when he tended to your locks, his touch was soft, quick and precise, never wandering where it didn't need to and leaving as soon as he was done in one area, moving swiftly to another. What came as a surprise to you was that he made small talk with you the entire time you were in that chair. Maybe it was because he sensed your nerves, but maybe not, you really couldn't tell. He asked you where you came from, why were you in London of all places, he even asked about your job and your family. The last topic he brushed upon quickly, which made you suspect it was a tough subject for him, an information you filed away safely in your brain to mull over later.

The last thing he told you when you were done and admiring yourself in the mirror he provided was to not tell Mrs. Lovett who cut your hair. You nodded softly and made your way home, feeling like a brand new person. Although the next time you set foot in the pie shop, Minnie's first question was "Did Mr. Todd cut your hair? It looks wonderful, darling!" You didn't confirm nor deny her rhetoric question, only smiling a bit bashfully before Mrs. Lovett insisted on opening 'the good wine' for the occasion. You didn't mention the fact that he refused to take payment for the service...

And as if that wasn't enough embarrassment in the short amount of time, this night at Minnie's pie shop turned out to have gone on much longer than any other one. Mrs. Lovett insisted you stay a bit longer any time you brought up going home for the night. Her reasoning being that since you finally did something for yourself after what must've been quite a long time in her opinion, you deserved to treat yourself some more, because when would an opportunity like this arise again?

And so you stayed seated in the dimly lit pie shop that smelled of baked meat, the likes of which you have never smelled before, and a mixture of herbs that reminded you of a memory long buried in your mind.

The conversation flowed freely and as the alcohol made its rounds through your bloodstream, your tongue became looser, as well as did Minnie's. She told you how her attempts at wooing Mr. Todd were progressing, or rather, were stagnating, with the man ignoring any and every romantic gesture or hint made towards him by his friend. That brought you to joining her in her admiring words for the handsome barber, leading to many laughs and jokes. Maybe it was because of her tipsy state, but you were surprised Mrs. Lovett took your admission of your crush on her upstairs neighbour better than you expected.

Your conversation then moved elsewhere and you were both so engrossed in it that neither of you heard the quiet footsteps leading to the shop. Sweeney's brows rose a little as he opened the door to a peculiar sight. The two people he had allowed closer to himself than anyone else since his return to London were sitting huddled at a table, which wouldn't have been that unusual, if it wasn't for the nearly empty bottle of old and undoubtedly strong wine. Both of your glasses were somewhat filled, the precious liquid spilled here and there in small amounts on the table. If Sweeney wasn't such a gentleman, despite his cold and often ruthless heart, he would say you were drunk. And not just a little bit.

Announcing his presence with a gruff cough, both your and Mrs. Lovett's heads snapped around to face him and he fought the small smirk that grew on his face at the sight. "Mr. Todd! We haven't even noticed you were here!" Minnie quickly addressed him with her signature friendliness. You stayed silent, instead opting to just admire the way Mr. Todd looked in the dim lighting in the shop. You felt you were seeing him completely differently than the other nights you spent there. His eyes reflected the light, making them look even more mysterious and alluring than usual and his normally pale face seemed more livelier. You would have spoken up, offered him some wine, but suddenly, being brought out so suddenly from your conversation with Minnie, your tongue felt big in your mouth, the weight of lead and you just did not have the energy to move it. Or open your mouth for that matter. Somewhere in the back of your mind crossed a thought that maybe you have had a bit too much to drink.

"It is quite late, I am surprised to catch you awake." Mr. Todd pointed out in a neutral tone, despite the playful mirth he was feeling. "Oh but the same could be said about you, Mr. Todd." Mrs. Lovett retaliated cheekily "Besides, we have a good reason to drink into the night! It is my friend's birthday, after all." she announced with an air of pride. You blinked at her a few times, not knowing where she had gotten that information from, because you were pretty sure today was not your birthday at all. Perhaps Minnie has forgotten the reason you were celebrating altogether and her drunken mind just made up a reason on the spot. As you were pondering when actually was your birthday, Mr. Todd spoke up again "Is that so? Well in that case-" and in a few strides he was at yours and Mrs. Lovett's table. He grabbed her half full glass of wine and before you could start wondering if it wasn't half empty, he raised it, grabbing your hand. "Happy birthday." he smiled slightly while you stood up, because you were being congratulated and you didn't want to appear rude, even though there wasn't actually a reason to congratulate you. Mr. Todd downed his, previously Minnie's, glass in one gulp before setting it down again.

Turning to Mrs. Lovett, he addressed her "I need to discuss something with you." he then turned his attention towards you "But it seems there is a more pressing matter at hand." he smirked as he gave you a once over. You felt your cheeks flush, knowing he was right. Standing up was the last straw before your alcohol fueled downfall. You were barely standing, your body swaying side to side slightly to keep itself balanced. Mrs. Lovett studied you for a while as well, before standing, with only a slightly lesser difficulty than you. "Oh I'm so sorry, dear, it seems that I have gone overboard with the drinks." she apologised and you couldn't help but smile softly at her sad tone. "'S alright, Minnie. 'M not mad." you shook your head with a small smile "I best be off though..." mumbling to yourself, you bid your friend a goodnight, not really paying attention to Sweeney, assuming he was waiting for you to leave so that he could discuss whatever it was with his neighbour.

Stumbling away from the table, you were surprised when a hand gripped your upper arm, supporting your weight and grounding your otherwise spinning world. Tracing the arm the hand was attached to with your eyes, you found Sweeney's already looking at your face. You said nothing, in the case that he only supported you in your struggle to weave through the tables in the shop, but as he continued to lead you out of the old building, Mrs. Lovett having gone in the back already, you were confused by this act of chivalry. Not that you took Mr. Todd for a brute, you just didn't expect such a gesture aimed at...yourself. The fact that this was also the first time he has touched you in any way while not necessarily needing so, unlike when he gave you your haircut, did not help your inebriated mind from running wild with conspiracies.

The crisp night air helped clear your head a little bit and you gulped it greedily with deep breaths when you walked out, arm in hand, with the barber. He stood, patiently, right next to you, his secure, but not tight grip on your arm never faltering. If he noticed how you took your sweet time collecting yourself, he didn't mention it, his eyes instead trained on the silver moon hanging in the sky like a lamp, blurred slightly by the infamous London fog. When he sensed you move more into the street, however, he tugged you back towards him slightly, as if he could not let you stray far.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his tone devoid of emotion and yet his eyes shone in a particular way that you couldn't exactly put a finger on in your state. The smirk that once rested on his handsome face was gone and you were perhaps more confused than before. "Home?" you half answered, half asked, unsure of what was the problem. Mr. Todd shook his head sternly "I cannot send you home alone at this time of day and retain a sound mind." he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You couldn't help but laugh at his statement. Where were you supposed to sleep then? Inside the shop? Sliding your arm out of his grip, you grabbed your stomach, your laughter gaining in volume, making you double over. "Oh, you're funny, Mr. Todd!" you wheezed, not caring the man you were addressing was looking at your drunken self with a completely neutral expression, not understanding in the slightest what was so funny "I have to go home! Where else would you have me spend the night?" you asked when you caught your breath, your laughter simmering down into tired giggles. Drunk laughing was hard, but really fun at the same time, you thought.

Sweeney reached out to take your arm again, turning you around to face the stairs like a puppet and started leading you to his home. "You can spend the night upstairs. If I sent you home, alone, you're sure to get robbed...or worse." his voice was cold and harsh and yet you had the sense this sudden change of tone was not due to anything you said. Not taking any chances, just in case, you kept your mouth shut and let him lead you up the stairs while you could feel your face heat up. It felt awfully wrong to just...invade his space like that. If there's one thing you learned about Sweeney, and let's be honest, there weren't many to choose from, it was that he was a very private person. At the same time, he invited you here. If he didn't want you in his space, he could've just let you stay downstairs with Minnie, she would take good enough care of you without a doubt. But what did all this mean?

You said nothing else as you let the barber move you along, much like a puppet, while trying to focus on every confusing thought and feeling that ran through your head. But your energy was quickly dwindling and you couldn't help but to succumb to sleep as soon as our head hit the pillow.

Regaining consciousness again was...unpleasant, to say the least. The first thing you registered was rain. Not very unusual for London though. The next thing was a piercing headache, that threatened to split your skull in two. Groaning, you flipped over in bed. That's when you noticed the smell. This didn't smell like your sheets... Slowly, but surely, the events of the previous night came back to you, even the less than appropriate ending of it. Blinking open your eyes, you let yourself get adjusted to the lighting of the room, before taking a look around. You were, in fact, in Mr. Todd's small abode and you were very probably in his bed too. You could feel heat creeping up your neck as you registered the all too familiar objects of the barber shop, now from a brand new perspective. There was the barber chair, as ominous as ever, the normal chair to the side, where you usually sat, now occupied by the master of the house.

Polishing and sharpening his blades, Sweeney sat by the window, seemingly uninterested and unbothered by basically a stranger waking up in his bed. His unwavering focus was only on his blades, a focus so intense it would send shivers down your spine, if you weren't so engrossed in your own embarrassment. Only when you began to sit up, your arms threatening to give out underneath you, did the barber tear his gaze away from his tools. You tried to get up to your feet as quickly as you could, manners all but forgotten, your only desire was to get out and never return to Mr. Todd's barber shop or Mrs. Lovett's meat pie establishment ever again. But your knees were wobbly and you felt in your body like a newborn fawn, so your quick escape proved to be harder than you thought.

Sweeney looked at you inquisitively and it seemed like he wanted to say something, but you beat him to it, the thought of anything he could and probably would have said making bile rise in your throat. Fighting the nausea, you pushed yourself off the bed and lightly stumbled before standing in front of the barber. "I am so sorry for what transpired yesterday, Mr. Todd." you apologised first and foremost after clearing your throat "You should not have had to witness any of that." looking awkwardly to the side, you continued "However I am very grateful for everything you have done for me yesterday." And with those last words, you bee lined it for the door, only briefly noticing the 'closed' sign on the door that should have been turned around probably hours ago. It wasn't until you were in the middle of the journey home that you realised you didn't even know what time it was, nor did you at least have the decency to make up the bed after you have slept in it. Which brought forth a question...Where did Mr. Todd sleep? There didn't seem to be another sleeping area nor any kind of furniture suitable for such activity in his living/working quarters. You weren't sure what made you blush more, the possibility that you shared a bed or the possibility that he stayed awake somewhere in the same space as you were the whole night. Both seemed strangely...intimate.

For the next few weeks, you avoided Fleet street like the plague. Luckily for you, your boss wasn't in need of a trim anytime soon, even though you did convince him to visit the barber's more than he did previously. But whenever you thought about the mysterious gentleman residing above the pie shop, hot embarrassment flowed through your body like lightning. And so you didn't remind your boss to upkeep his appearance and as usual, the big oaf wouldn't think of such thing himself. He had money, so what if he looked a bit disheveled? Everybody was saving up on everything they could, the rich and poor alike.

Mrs. Lovett was especially vocal about your absence. She worried that she really did offend you or did you wrong somehow during that a bit too wild night. Whenever Sweeney would appear in the shop to fetch his meal, she would bombard him with questions, if he had any news of you, your whereabouts, your wellbeing, or whether your boss' appointment was coming up anytime soon. She regretted now never asking for your address, with how much she'd come to like you in the time you've spent together. You brought a normalcy to her life that she's dreamed of oh so much.

And while Sweeney wasn't pretty much vocal at all towards your sudden absence, when he closed down for the day and looked out of his window, overlooking the grey London sky and dark and gloomy rooftops, he wondered where you could possibly be. What were you doing? Were you alright?

You had came into the vengeful barber's life unexpectedly and while at first Minnie's obsession with you irritated him, making his goals, his work, that much more dangerous, he couldn't help but notice your good nature. Not only towards his neighbour, even though with how strange the woman could be it was surprising in itself, but towards him, even towards your boss. It wasn't that you were naive, no, he could see in your eyes that you knew exactly how cruel and unjust this world was, and yet you still chose to be kind. Despite all the hardships he knew you were dealt by destiny, no, by other people, the biggest monsters on this earth, you still remained with your heart open to others. And he admired that. Your presence on Fleet street was like a beacon of clean light in the constant grey fog, when he sometimes glanced at the street below him and you happened to be there, he always recognized you, as if you shone more brightly than others.

The lonely man spent many a night pondering on what was it that made you occupy his mind so much, what made you so special. He still loved his wife, and his daughter, wherever she may be, that much he knew. But sometimes...sometimes when he looked at you, your face, as you were laughing with Mrs. Lovett about this or that, he could see her smile. And it was so reassuring, as if Lucy herself was sending her mark upon you, signaling to him that you were someone he needed to protect. And when he came to terms with this revelation, he swore to himself that that was exactly what he was going to do.

So of course it was no problem for him to let you spend a night in his bed. He found your drunken antics and your embarrassment the next morning quite endearing. If you would've paid more attention to him and your surroundings that morning, you would've noticed the small smirk on his face as he watched you clumsily apologize, even though he saw no reason for it. And you would've noticed the two cups of coffee, along with some painkillers standing prepared on the table near the bed. But Sweeney didn't think his actions would've driven you away from him and Mrs. Lovett like that. He knew there was nothing that he could do except wait for you to come back, although he didn't like the idea of something happening to you without him knowing it, being able to prevent it. And he didn't even want to think about the scenario that you would never be back. He saw the way you looked at him, studied him, the confusion in your eyes from the way he behaved so often and now he wanted nothing more than to tell you everything and sort things out. Even if he wasn't sure how exactly to do that. Benjamin was good with words, but Sweeney? Sweeney was all about action, because unlike Benjamin, Sweeney Todd knew just how little weight words could hold in the world.

It didn't take long for you to start missing Fleet street, with your two favourite residents, Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd. You contemplated when should you pay them a visit and how you would explain your avoidance of them, until after one night, when that became irrelevant.

It happened in the evening. You were let go from work for the day and while you were on your way home, thinking mostly about whether you had any leftovers from yesterday or if you had to cook dinner from scratch and not paying much attention to your surroundings, when you were jumped. Two men, none of which you knew, cornered you against a wall of a building along which you were walking, asking for some money. You, not wanting any more trouble than necessary, pulled out your pouch, where you kept all the change you needed, but it wasn't enough for whatever they were planning. With two figures towering at least a good head above from you, demanding you do what they say, you didn't dare look them directly in their faces, so you knew little of what they looked like. But they smelled awful and faintly of fish. When they asked to show them what more you had in your bag, yo asked them to leave you be, that you've already given them everything important you had on you. That proved to be a mistake, since one of them grabbed you roughly by the arms from behind, while the other ripped your bag from your hands and turned it upside down. You struggled to get away from the bastard's bruising grip and started calling out for help, which was another mistake. The guy that was going through your things, most of which were only daily necessities, such as your keys and whatnot, suddenly sprung up and hit you in the face, gruffly telling you to shut up, if you valued your life. It was at that point you noticed his voice was slightly slurred.

Luckily, an officer must've been patrolling nearby, or someone must've taken pity on you and called him over, it wasn't that late in the evening after all, because as soon as you heard the distinct sound of a bobby whistle, the first guy let you go while the second one hastily grabbed your notebook and both of them booked it down the street, weaving through the city's intricate alleyways. The officer quickly asked what happened and told you to stay put while he chased after them. But it wasn't even five minutes before he was back, informing you that he lost them and he asked you to accompany him to the police station to give a statement on what happened and they would see what could be done.

The next day, you showed up to work with a nasty looking black eye, without your notebook or a single penny. The police officers told you that with the limited description you provided they weren't sure how much could be done. After telling your boss what happened, he surprisingly took the matter quite seriously. Not only did you write down ever single appointment he needed to attend to in your notebook, but some quite serious and important information, codes to safes, finance tracking, different information having to do with sales and so on. He asked what police station you went to yesterday and said he would get in touch with the officers, since it wasn't impossible that the attack wasn't planned ahead and the notebook was exactly what someone was after. You didn't need or want to know anything more than that. Your boss also gave you two weeks off, to let your eye heal, commenting how it would seem weird if you accompanied him looking like that and he didn't need any more rumors being spread about him, like physically abusing his personnel. He gave you your money back, saying it was going from your next paycheck until the police got your original money back, plus some more to buy a new notebook. As incompetent as he could sometimes be, he was still a businessman, and even though his motivation for these choices was questionable, you were still glad he made them.

As soon as you were outside again, your legs immediately took you in the direction of Fleet street. Still quite shaken up after the incident, the thing you needed the most at that moment was a friend and something told you Minnie would not turn you down.

And you were not mistaken. As you took a step inside the pie shop, Mrs. Lovett's arms were around you, her worried and apologetic rambling reaching your ears as soon as they got used to the buzz of the busy establishment. As soon as the woman pulled away from you, her relieved expression turned to one of shock as she carefully cradled your cheek where the bruise was, asking "What in god's name happened?" Immediately she brought you to the back of the shop and fetched the cleanest rag, which was then promptly soaked in cold water, so that you could relieve some of the ache of the black eye. And she had you remain there until closing, spending her time between serving customers and preparing pies chatting with you. She informed you that she wasn't mad about your sudden disappearance, that she was just very worried and then she promptly asked you your address "In case you want to pull something on me like that again." she reasoned with a cheeky smile.

After Minnie closed down in the evening, you both could sit uninterrupted in the main area, with the businesswoman cleaning up here and there and re-wetting your rag. Anytime you tried to offer her help as a thank you, she would just sternly order you to sit back down and not even think about work, since you've been given 'a sick leave'. Just as she was done with cleaning and was about to head out to get rid of the dirty water, a person you were still dreading to meet walked into the room. You immediately knew who it was by the way Mrs. Lovett's eyes brightened, her face blooming into one of sweet happiness as she cooed out a greeting "Oh, Mr. Todd! Look who decided to join us today! Poor thing got mugged yesterday, can you believe it?" she shook her head, carrying her bucket out the door "So nice of you to join us, there are some pies hidden in the oven in the back for you!" she called behind her as the door clicked close after her.

There was nothing for you to do but turn around, your face heating up again, only praying Mr. Todd wouldn't pay attention to it. But to your slight surprise, he only stared intently at the black eye adorning your face, like a joke of a monocle the more posh men liked to wear when out and about. With a few quick strides, the barber was next to you, his hand under your chin, tipping your head upwards, so he could assess your wound better under the light. His face was contorted into a frown, but his eyes were nothing but gentle as he murmured "Who did this to you?" His voice was ice cold, but somehow you knew you didn't need to be scared. "I don't know." you whispered "The police are after them now." You both said nothing as you only continued to study each other.

When the sound of a door being opened could be heard, Sweeney gently let go of your chin and took a step back from you, but not quite leaving your side. Mrs. Lovett trotted happily back into the room, taking the seat across from you and looking up at her neighbour, she patted the chair beside hers. Not waiting for him to comply, which was good, because Sweeney did not move an inch from where he stood, she asked you, her expression concerned "Darling, do you think it'll be okay for you to walk home alone at this hour?"

Looking out of the window, you saw the street was getting dark. It would not take much more time for night to completely settle over the city. You felt so safe and comfortable, that you completely forgot about the passage of time. Surely there will be little to no people out at this hour. And those who will be outside roaming the streets are definitely not the kind of people you want to associate yourself with. And while you had no problem walking on the bring of darkness alone before, after yesterday's events, you couldn't help the cold shiver that ran down your back at the thought of the many alleyways you'd have to pass before getting home.

Seeing your hesitance, Mrs. Lovett placed her hand softly on yours "It's alright, love. You can stay here for the night! I'm sure there's plenty of room for one more person in the house." her smile was so reassuring, you couldn't help your own taking over your face. But you shook your head "As much as I appreciate your offer, I have to go home. The officers might need me for more questionings, it's best I don't stay out of the house too long." you explained with a small smile and got up from your chair. Surprisingly, it was Sweeney who spoke next "I'll walk you home. If you wouldn't mind, that is." he offered, his eyes flickering between your face and the table during the latter part. "Oh, Mr. Todd! Such a gentleman!" Minnie squealed adoringly, standing up as well "Trust me, love, with Mr. Todd, you're in good hands." something about the way she looked at the barber when she said that made you feel strange, but you had no reason not to believe her or the quiet man standing beside you. So you nodded and looked towards the window again "Best we head off though, I wouldn't want you to have to return when it's completely dark." you muttered, more to yourself and then looked at your companion for confirmation. The dangerous glint you caught flashing through his eyes made you shiver again, but you ignored it.

After hugging Mrs. Lovett goodbye, you were on your way. The first few minutes passed in complete silence, you had no idea what to say and Mr. Todd wasn't one for many words. Sighing, you decide to be the one to break the ice "I...I'm sorry, once again, Mr. Todd. For running out on you like that. You've done so much for me and I repaid you horribly." your gaze was set on the stone path as you apologised. For a while, the barber said nothing, which did not help your nerves at all. "Sweeney." That was the only thing he said. You whipped your head around to look at him, your mouth hanging agape in confusion. "I'm sorry?" Sweeney then looked at you, a single chuckle escaping his chest through his smirking lips. In the dim night lights of the London street, he looked possibly more attractive than ever before. "My name. I feel like we don't have to keep up such formalities, since you've spent a night in my bed already."

You couldn't look him in the eyes anymore, your face heating up. "You make it sound like something much more serious." you pouted. He chuckled again. This was the most you've heard him talk or just express himself in any way since you've known him. "And it wasn't? I don't let just anyone into my bed, you know." It was clear as day he was enjoying this. But his words held an underlying meaning, one which was much more deeper than the lighthearted teasing. Sweeney slowed into a stop and you followed suit beside him. The last street lamp was now behind him, leaving his face covered mostly in shadows. And yet you could see his eyes, vulnerable in a way he probably hasn't been in a long, long time, you could feel his intense gaze on your face, studying your every small reaction. "What are you saying?" you breathed out, your heart in your throat. Sweeney took a step closer "What I'm saying is that you've grown to be quite important to me. After that night..." he stopped, searching for the right words to continue "I realised many things. And I've realised...that I want to keep you close. To protect you. To know you and to allow myself to be known by you. If you'll let me, that is." and he slowly reached for your hand, holding it in both of his oh so gently. "Do you deem me worthy of knowing your heart? Your soul?"

You could feel your breath hitch in your throat as you were overwhelmed by sudden conflicting emotions. But the one that stood out from all of them was... "As long as you'll deem me worthy of knowing yours." you replied in almost a whisper. And with those words, that one sentence, it was as if the tension in the air disappeared all at once. Sweeney stood beside you once more, this time offering you his arm to take and after you've linked your arm through his, he continued to escort you home. Not just as an acquaintance, not as a friend...but perhaps not yet as a lover. But there was time for all of that. Right now, there was the chilly London night air, you and him. And you could figure out the details, such as breaking the news to Minnie, or discovering why exactly there was a trapdoor behind the barber chair, some other time. Tonight was just for you.

[psychovigilantewrites]

Sunshine's Shadow

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader, Dick Grayson/Reader Genre: Slow burn smut? Porn with plot? Like eventually??? Word Count: 7,600 Read on Ao3 Part 1 of 2. Summary: You had powers of darkness that made you feel unwanted your whole life. Jason Todd was the first person to convince you that your darkness was sunshine. After his death, you went to Dick for comfort and started a relationship with him. And then, Jason came back. A/N:

I'm practicing writing again to prepare myself for the last chapter of Red Who? I'm not too happy with how I wrote this, but I'm hoping to start improving again along the way as I write and learn all over again. Also, I am not familiar with Titans! I know Jason never really joined? I just winged it I'm so sorry. I also aged up Jason's death here. I think the timeline is a bit messy pls forgive me.

Jason knocked on your door.

“Come in,” he heard your soft, muffled voice.

You were sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. You had soft instrumental music playing in your room. The table lamp was switched on on your bedside table, but the room was still dark.

“We’re getting ready for a spooky movie tonight,” Jason said, closing the door behind him and approaching you. “Care to join us this time?”

Your eyes darted from your phone to his, and you pursed your lips in hesitation.

“No thank you, I’m fine here,” you said and brought your attention back to your phone.

Jason sighed loudly and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Why don’t you ever join us?” he asked, “We’re the Teen Titans. We’re a team. You should join us for more team stuff besides official missions.”

You simply stared at Jason. He sensed that you had more to say but was hesitating opening up. So he got up and sat next to you. “You can tell me.”

“The room is dark, isn’t it?” you asked.

The question surprised Jason. “I mean, I guess? So what?”

“That’s me, Jason. You know how my powers work. This- this curse. The shadow I emit makes everything dark and gloomy, even if it’s a sunny day outside. And no one likes someone who brings darkness in a room,” you avoided his eyes and started picking at a hangnail on your finger.

“That’s why you won’t hang out with us?” he couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you hated us or something.”

“What?” you looked at him incredulously, “How could I? I was afraid that you all hate me for being so depressing.”

“Has anyone told you that before?” Jason asked. He didn’t know much about where you came from, but he knew that you went to a lot of different schools and orphanages. An outsider, not unlike himself.

“The kids were always scared of me,” you confessed quietly, “They refused to play with me. That was fine, but then soon after they would bully me. Make fun of me, push me down, kick me. Reminded me again and again that I was a freak.”

For some reason, Jason always had the urge to protect you, even though you were slightly older than he was. Now that urge was stronger and he wanted to hurt anyone who hurt you, to shield you from all that negativity.

“Well,” he began, “I don’t know about those assholes, but whenever I see you, I never saw darkness.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Really!” he insisted, “I see a girl who likes to read, and who likes music. I see you smile whenever Roy and Jackson bicker. And when Wally does that thing where he starts vibrating when he eats? And on the field? The way you protect everyone, the way we can all trust that you have our backs.”

Jason held your eyes. “I don’t see any darkness. In fact, I see sunshine! Because whenever you’re around, it makes us all feel warm and safe.”

He saw the way you were trying hard to not let the tears brimming your eyes fall. “You’re not lying.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

“Of course I’m not,” he confirmed. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“I guess not,” you sniffled, “I can tell when people lie. And you have never lied to me.”

“What do you mean you can tell when people lie?”

“I don’t know. It’s sort of always been a thing I could do,” you shrugged, “I don’t join in conversations, so I just observe people, and I can sort of tell what they’re thinking or when they’re lying.”

“Ah, I think I know a thing or two about that,” Jason smiled fondly.

“Thank you, Jason,” you expressed.

“No problem, Sunny,” he grinned, “I’ll call you that from now on. To remind you.”

Jason thought that he saw you blush in the dim light. “So what do you think? Wanna join us for spooky night? I mean, your shadow would even be helpful. It’ll create the spooky ambience we’re all looking for.”

“Is there popcorn?” you grinned.

***

You dumbass, you thought.

The rain had you soaked and shivering.

Jason Todd, you absolute asshole.

The smell of wet dirt was overpowering. Your team stood with you despite your shadow engulfing them in darkness. Roy had his hand on your shoulder.

The white petals stuck to the polished wooden casket as it was lowered into the ground. Your heart had already broke, and you had gone through the stages of breaking down, sobbing uncontrollably, not being able to sleep for a week after they told you the news. Right now, you felt nothing but emptiness.

The casket hit the ground with a dull thud, and you heard the wet footsteps of others leaving the grave. You looked up at the crowd. Dressed in black, you saw some familiar faces. Clark Kent and Diana Prince were with Bruce Wayne, standing in solidarity. A fiery red color caught your eyes, and you saw whom you knew as Starfire. Tall, confident, and radiating with a soft warm glow- everything that you wished you were. She was next to Dick Grayson, and your eyes made contact with blue ones, ones that reminded you of Jason.

Dick gave you a sad smile.

“I heard you’re not going to continue with the Titans anymore,” Dick broke the silence. The rain was still pouring, pounding on the glass window of the car. “Where do I drop you off?”

“East End, along Murphy Avenue,” you replied. You watched two droplets on the window fall down, racing against each other. “I have some boxes left in the Tower, but I don’t feel like seeing them today.”

“Are you going to be okay on your own? You’re not even 18 yet.”

“I’m turning 18 in three months,” you rolled your eyes. “And I already got a job.”

“Oh? That was quick. What job?”

“Private investigator,” you responded, “Lot’s of scandals in Gotham. It’s quite easy to get a job if you’re half decent.”

“Pay well?”

“Well enough.”

Silence again. Dick made a turn.

No word was said until he stopped in front of the apartment complex. Unknown to you, Dick made a mental note to check the apartment out.

“Thanks, Dick.” Something stopped you from leaving the car. Something warm. Ah, it was Dick’s hand on yours.

You looked over and stared into his bright blue eyes. “I’m here for you. Anytime of the day or night. Text me, call me, whatever. You’re not alone.”

It was his expression. The pain and grief and sincerity in his eyes. A hint of desperation, even. By now, your talent for reading people had developed, and you could tell more than just basic emotions. Dick didn’t want you to leave him alone.

Your pulse quickened.

“Would you… Like to come in?” you asked.

Dick was surprised. His eyes darted downwards in a look of… guilt? And then- “No, it’s alright. You said you wanted some alone time. Go settle down first, then maybe you can give me a house tour sometime.”

Then he gave you the grin. Dick Grayson’s charming, heart-stopping grin.

You left the car.

THREE MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

You spent your birthday alone, ignoring the invitations from your ex team members. They all wished you happy birthday, and sent you voice notes of them singing. They said they wished you were there with them, and that they hoped you were well. You replied with a simple thank you.

The apartment you made yours was bare. The walls had no art, and the TV was unplugged. What was the point? Your darkness would have made the art on the walls difficult to see and it was not like you were planning to invite anyone over.

A couple of case files sat neatly on the dining room table, where you did your work. Your name had spread by word of mouth after your first client three months ago, and now you occasionally received texts from unknown numbers, asking for discretion and offering a few hundred dollars a day for a week of work.

Your phone buzzed. It wasn’t an unknown number this time.

Dick had sent you a text. Happy Birthday! Still waiting for that house tour.

You sent a quick thank you and ignored the rest of the message.

SIX MONTHS after the death of Jason Todd

You arrived late on purpose. “Sorry I’m late.”

You sat down in the booth seat opposite Dick and saw the way his eyes lit up when you announced your arrival.

“No worries,” he brushed it off. “Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah,” you grabbed the dirty menu from the table. Anything to fill up the awkwardness you were expecting. “What do you usually have here?”

“Waffles with ice cream.”

“For dinner?”

“Why not?”

Dick Grayson gave you his Dick Grayson Grin.

You told the aging waitress your order- “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“So how have you been doing? You seem quite busy now, since this dinner was postponed to two months later,” he teased.

“My work isn’t exactly nine to five, five days a week,” you replied curtly. You had avoided this dinner on purpose.

“No, no, I get it. Mine is the same,” he said. “It’s good that you have been getting lots of clients lately. You seem to be high in demand now.”

“Yeah, I am, actually,” you smiled softly to yourself, “I didn’t expect for business to move this fast. I’m mostly investigating cheating spouses and party daughters now, though. Hoping to move on to the more serious stuff.”

“Careful,” Dick warned you, frowning slightly, “Try not to get involved with the politics here. It’s messy, and dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself, Dick,” you assured him.

He paused. “Yeah, I noticed,” his expression quickly changed, “You’ve been controlling your shadow.”

Indeed, you have been working on pulling in your shadow while you were out in public, making it seem as normal as possible so you don’t engulf rooms with darkness, especially with your current state of mind.

Soon after Jason died, you found out that your shadow had grown larger and larger, directly linked to your moods. Then you noticed that it shrank when you were concentrating on your cases, leaving the room bright. So you meditated and practiced, day and night, to keep your shadow and your emotions in check. However, it was tiring to constantly shrink it for long periods of time.

“Practice makes perfect,” you replied bitterly.

“Jason used to talk about you all the time, you know?” he suddenly brought up.

This came as a surprise for you.

“Really?” you cocked your head to the side, “What about?”

“Lots of stuff,” Dick elaborated, “But mainly about how to make you feel more welcomed. How to get you to open up. What stuff to talk to you about. He considered you his best-friend.”

You had considered Jason the same. He was the first person you had truly bonded with, but you never knew that Jason had communicated with Dick about you. True enough, he always tried his best to make sure you never felt left out. You felt your throat tightened and gulped.

Your waffles arrived, and Dick immediately dug in.

“He said that he called you something,” he continued in between bites, “Sunny, right? Said it was short for Sunshine.”

You hadn’t heard that in six months.

Dick looked up at you and panic took over his face. “Shit- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your eyes this time. You quickly wiped them away and stabbed the waffle with your fork.

“No- no, it’s fine,” you insisted, “I just hadn’t heard that name in a while. And I didn’t know he talked to you about me.”

Dick looked at you with concern. “Pretty sure he had a crush on you, with the way he was always talking about you.”

You were pretty sure, too. You could read people well after all.

“What made you choose this diner?” you asked, changing the subject. “We used to come here all the time.”

“Yeah, I haven’t stepped in here since that day,” he avoided saying Jason’s name now.

For the first time since you sat down, you actually studied him, beyond the basic emotions that you instinctively saw in everyone. The slight frown, the dark circles under his eyes, the short chewed up nails, the five o’ clock shadow that was rare for Dick Grayson.

He was grieving alone.

“Whenever Jason faced a problem when he was with us, out in the field, or anything, he would always ask himself- ‘What would Dick Grayson do?’” you told him.

His eyes softened, and you could see tears start to well up too.

“He really looked up to you,” you went on, wanting to give Dick the same comfort he gave you. “His older brother. Though, he kept it quiet. He didn’t want people to notice how much he cared. You know, the whole tough guy act.”

Dick chuckled at that. “But you noticed, of course.”

“Of course,” you smiled fondly at the memory. When asked if his injuries hurt, Jason would always reply with Only when I laugh.

But he accepted the cold compresses and paracetamol you gave him.

12 MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

The camera shutter clicked. You checked the quality of the photo on your digital SLR. Even from across the street and in the darkness of the night, your camera caught the couple entering the motel, hand-in-hand, perfectly. This would be sufficient evidence for your client. The classic case of Cheating Spouse was going to earn you a couple thousand dollars. Frankly, you had considered rejecting the case. You only went for high-profile scandals now. But the client was desperate, and offered a large sum of money for something so easy and simple. It was difficult to refuse.

You contemplated on whether you should go the extra mile to catch them in the act. Or maybe you should just stake out in your car and catch them coming out of the motel. You took pride in how detailed your reports always were, and that was how you managed to build your clientele.

You took a sip of the bad, black coffee, already gone cold.

Peering through the zoom lens, you angled the camera up to the rooms facing the street. The movement you caught, however, was not the lights of a room switching on. Instead, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow hanging about the fire-escape in the narrow alley next to the building. You zoomed in more, and saw a familiar blue and black spandex, white eyes, and a familiar grin.

“Fuck,” you swore to yourself. Of all the places to bump into him.

You had gotten close to him since that dinner. The both of you had been texting regularly, getting to know each other and sharing stories about Jason. It helped you with your grief, and you knew it helped him too. You found out that Dick Grayson was voluntarily very expressive with his emotions, unlike his late younger brother who always needed an extra nudge.

Despite all that, you had been trying your best to avoid Dick for the past few weeks and had been giving him the excuse that you were busy. The truth was, you were scared. You knew how close you were getting to him, and right now you were lonely. So lonely that you were afraid of doing something you would both regret.

Knock, knock, knock. The glass rapped three times.

You looked over at the passenger side and saw that grin. Sighing, you unlocked the door.

“What a nice surprise,” Dick greeted you as he shut the door. “Didn’t think I would see a beautiful lady when I left home tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at his usual flirting. “I’m on a job, Dick.”

“I can see that,” he shamelessly went through your case file that was sitting on the passenger seat before he entered. “I thought you don’t take these cases anymore?”

“The poor guy was desperate, and he offered a lot of money for a simple, menial task,” you explained. “I don’t get why he doesn’t ask someone cheaper. Literally anyone could do this.”

“But they can’t do it as well as you do,” Dick booped your nose with his gloved finger.

“What about you? What brings you to this side of town?”

“Tim needed help with some training. And patrol brings me everywhere, sweetheart,” he smirked.

You noticed that your body had subconsciously turned towards him. His eyes were not visible then, covered by the whites of his mask. He was slightly damp due to the drizzle outside.

You cleared your throat. “I’m going to stake out here until they come out. Note how long they were together.”

“That could be until the sun rises.”

“Yep.”

“Need company?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you needed to patrol, and help Tim.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he sighed dramatically, “I’d much rather be in this steamy car with you, though.”

“Go and help your Robin, Dick,” you chuckled, unable to resist him. “Your mentee needs his mentor, Gotham needs its hero and you’re here cozying up with a PI.”

“How irresponsible of me,” he muttered. You hadn’t realized that both of you had moved closer.

You risked a quick glance to his slightly parted lips before tearing your eyes away. He was right, it had suddenly got steamy in the car.

“Text me when you’re back? It’s dangerous to be alone at this hour,” he said before stepping out and flying off in the most flamboyant, Dick Grayson way.

I can take care of myself.

You took deep breaths to calm down and slow your heartbeat.

Maybe you were scared that you were so lonely. But a part of you knew that starting something with Dick wouldn’t be too bad.

You were just scared of being judged by Dick’s dead, younger brother.

The next weekend, you found yourself on your balcony. It was 3 AM, and you were slightly tipsy from the cocktail you made yourself. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of the wind, the cars, the occasional police siren. You made your decision.

Need you. you texted Dick, knowing he was out on patrol.

15 minutes. he replied.

Jason was dead. There was no one else who understood and accepted you almost as well as Dick did.

You waited out there in the cold for his arrival. When he did land straight on your balcony, his hair was a mess and he was panting slightly. You grabbed his face and kissed him roughly.

It didn’t matter anymore because Jason was dead.

SIX MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD.

It was more difficult to control your shadow, but you tried your best. Moving in with Dick helped a bit more as compared to when you were alone, but you were constantly on edge.

He was alive, and what would he think of this? You and Dick? Would he see it as a betrayal?

Dick was having sleepless nights and was gone most of the time to help Bruce with Jason’s tantrum. Six months since Jason had appeared alive, and God knows how long before he crawled out of his grave, but he had not contacted you even once.

And you knew, you knew he was angry at you. That this whole villain arc had at least something to do with you. Even though it didn’t make sense, that you were never together, that you were nothing more than just best friends.

Somehow you felt that the rage and destruction was directed towards you.

For as long as you got together with Dick two years ago, and a whole year of playing cat and mouse with him ever since that kiss, you never had radio silence from him for this long. Two or three days was the maximum, and he would reassure you that everything was fine while you continued on with your PI business. A week long was unheard of.

Then, your phone buzzed.

I’m fine. He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.

You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Is he back? you asked.

He’s gonna take some time off. Need to go. See you soon.

And so you didn’t sleep until Dick came back home the next morning.

“He’s so… broken,” Dick whispered above your head as he hugged you tightly.

You frowned. You didn’t like that word used to describe Jason. A person couldn’t be broken. People weren’t objects. You knew what Dick meant, that Jason was traumatized- but it didn’t mean that he was broken. Broken meant that you needed to be fixed before someone accepted you, that you needed to be functional or useful.

Broken meant that there was a state where people were whole, and you knew too well that there’s no such thing as a whole person. People just existed in different states, and each state was just as important as the other.

Jason told you all of that when you opened up to him about your past. One day many years ago, you fucked up during a mission. Your shadow had hurt someone a little too badly.

“I don’t even know how it works, Jay,” you had cried, “Sometimes it has a mind of its own and it just reacts outside of my control.”

“You saved me in the end,” Jason tried comforting you, putting his arm around your shoulder as you sat on the carpet of the empty living room.

“But I could have hurt you too,” you argued, “It could have attacked your shadow and killed you, the same way I killed my parents.”

You hadn’t told anyone about that. Only the Justice League knew.

“It was an accident,” Jason insisted.

“I’m just a broken person,” you choked. “No one should be near me.”

That was when he took his arm away and held your shoulders in both his hands, forcing you to face him, to stare into his piercing, fierce gaze.

“Don’t ever let me hear you say that about yourself ever again, got it?” he scolded you, “You are not broken. You’re like- like water. Or air. You exist in different states of matter, and each state you’re in is no less broken than the rest. You’re not broken, okay? You’re Sunny, you’re sunshine. You’re just sunshine…”

NINE MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD

“Cheating spouse, undercover at Harvard, cheating spouse again…” you muttered to yourself as you browsed your cases in the living room, illuminated by a single warm light above your head. Dick would complain about the mess in the morning when he eats his cereal.

If he even comes back by tomorrow. you finished your own thought.

The blackmail material requests sounded interesting, but you always hesitated to accept the morally gray ones. You usually would go for missing or runaway children, the evidence of corruption, and the occasional journalist request for an inside scoop.

In fact, your eyes caught one such request. An anonymous journalist from the Gotham Gazelle. You received a text from a disposable two days ago, detailing a locker combination and an address. The contents of the locker were documents within a crisp and new light brown folder- a typical case file, along with a thousand dollars in cash and a promise of another two thousand after completion.

Journalists were not usually this cautious, but if they were investigating someone high profile, it was better to remain anonymous. Especially in Gotham.

You took a sip of your dark roast Arabica coffee, engrossed by what your anonymous client wanted you to get. It was already 11 PM.

Then, you heard the bell ring.

You frowned. Dick wouldn’t ring the bell to his own apartment.

Concentrating on pulling your shadow back, you walked barefoot to the door and looked through the peephole.

Your heartbeat quickened at who you saw standing on the other side of the door.

Calm down, calm down, calm down. Deep breaths.

The door clicked when you unlocked it, and creaked when you pulled it open.

You couldn’t remember when you had stopped counting the amount of days since you saw those piercing blue eyes that were so similar, yet so different from Dicks’. Now they were even more different from what you remembered. They were like battleworn armor standing in an enclosed case.

“There’s my sunshine,” Jason smiled weakly at you.

There was no chance of stopping your tears from falling down your face, so you didn’t even try. You let them flow freely as you speechlessly embraced him and felt his warm arms snake around you. The warmth of an embrace you thought you were never going to feel ever again.

He grew much taller than you. He was 16 when he died, and you were just turning 18. You had stopped growing a year or two before that, but boys kept on growing, didn’t they? He was the same height as you were the last time you saw him, but now he was at least a couple of feet taller. Did that mean he was back long before he started going as Red Hood? What did he do for two and a half years? Who-

“Don’t mean to be rude, but can I come in? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” he said. Even his voice was much, much deeper.

You chuckled and nodded, taking a step away to let him in.

You closed the door behind Jason and watched as he walked in slowly, looking around at Dick’s apartment. You noticed he paused at the dining table where you were working, and then strided to the sofa in the living room before taking a seat. You followed suit and sat next to him, not yet trusting your voice to make a sound.

“So,” he began, “You and Grayson, huh?”

Looking so intently, taking him all in, you almost missed the question.

“You’re bigger than him,” you blurted, before widening your eyes in horror at what you were implying.

Jason raised a scarred eyebrow.

“I mean- you- your build,” you quickly explained, “Your frame. Shoulders. Length. Big.”

“Length?” he smirked.

“Height!” you almost yelled.

Jason leaned closer to you and frowned. “Am I making you nervous?”

You couldn’t bear his piercing eyes, so you looked down at your hands.

“I thought maybe you never wanted to see me again,” you confessed, “I thought maybe you were angry at me, and hated me.”

“I was,” he simply stated.

You looked at him in question.

“Angry at you. For a bit,” he sighed and leaned back against the couch, “But I was angry at everyone. You were no exception. I was just mad everyone had forgotten me. Especially those I cared about.”

“I never forgot you, Jason,” you vowed, “How could I ever?”

“Then why did you-” he cut himself off, “Nevermind. I just wanted to say that I’m not mad anymore. I get it. I was dead, and everyone moved on.”

He crossed his arms and again, you noticed how large his arms were. His face was more mature, jawline more defined and square, eyes now more deep set with extra dark circles underneath them. As if your body had a mind of its own, you reached out to his face and caressed the scar across his cheek.

Jason jumped slightly in surprise at the sudden contact, but then closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“You have more scars now,” you pointed out, “What happened?”

You felt his breath down your wrist.

“Another story for another day,” he smiled and opened his eyes. You took your hand away, blushing at how intimate that must have seemed to an onlooker. “Where’s Boy Wonder?”

“No idea,” you shrugged. “You want something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

“Aw, come on, Sunny!” he got up and walked to the kitchen, “It’s a Welcome Back, Jason party. Where are the fun drinks?”

He started opening your cabinets.

“Wow, make yourself at home, why don’t you?” you shook your head and went to join him.

“Mi casa es su casa,” he sang, “At least, that’s what Grayson told me when he gave me the address. Aha!”

He found the cabinet of liquors. “Wow, I’m quite impressed by his collection.”

“That’s my collection,” you corrected him, “Dick couldn’t tell the difference between tequila and rum even if his life depended on it. I have a variety. What do you feel like?”

“You’re the bartender,” he teased, “Surprise me.”

You nodded and proceeded to make him a drink. Jason sat down at the dining table and nosily looked through your files. That was one thing he and Dick had in common, at least.

You set down a whisky sour for him and yourself before clearing your paperwork to the side, giving him the side eye as you snatched a folder from his hands.

Taking a seat across from him, the both of you dinked glasses together and took a sip.

“Strong,” he commented, “That’s good.”

You accepted the compliment silently.

“So, you don’t know where Grayson’s at?” he inquired.

“Nope,” you replied, “I know he has missions sometimes. Helps out here and there. He’s gone for two or three days before he comes back home with a new bruise or cut. I don’t ask for details unless he starts to tell me about it.”

Your chest made an involuntary squeeze that you tried to hide. There were times when you had asked Dick, and he lied to you. You had arguments over where he was, and who he was with before.

Jason studied your poker face intently, and for a second, you felt as though he was interrogating you.

He took another sip.

“How’s business going?” he changed the subject, “I heard you never went back to the team.”

“I couldn’t,” you answered simply.

“Why not?”

“Everything reminded me of you. It hurt too much.”

A deafening silence. A look of guilt. A looming darkness that grew.

“Business is great, actually,” you went on. “And I enjoy the slower-paced nature of the work.”

“Ugh, even stake outs?” he made a face, not commenting on how your shadow became slightly bigger.

“Stake outs can be nice sometimes,” you argued, “Crank down the window, put the radio on, snack on some fries. Sometimes I read, as well. I’m used to spending long hours by myself.”

“Sounds like you haven’t changed much,” he smiled endearingly at you.

“Not even physically?” you pouted, “I’ve been going to the gym.”

He laughed at that. “Yes, I’ve noticed. You look much more… Mature?”

“Are you saying I look old, Todd?” you huffed.

“So fucking old. A hag.”

You stuck out your tongue at him and laughed together, as if nothing ever changed. As if he never died, as if you never grieved for him and longed for him.

“I’m kidding,” he conceded, “You look good. Really good. Dick’s a lucky guy.”

You frowned at the last comment. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? Me and Dick?”

Another pause. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Jason knew you well, so he knew how to answer you. His statement wasn’t a lie.

You heard the jingle of keys in the distance.

“Speak of the fucking devil,” Jason whispered into his drink before taking a big gulp.

“Honey, I’m ho- oh. Jason, I didn’t expect to find you here,” Dick stood in the doorway, stunned.

“Welcome back, babe,” you walked over and greeted your boyfriend with a kiss. For the first time, Dick looked slightly uncomfortable with your display of affection.

“You guys have been hanging out without me!” Dick whined, his child-like persona immediately taking over.

That was how Dick was. You noticed it after a few times with him, how he would mask his emotions or awkwardness with his happy, warm personality. He was a people person, charming his way anywhere and everywhere regardless of any situation.

Yet, you could see through it all. The grief, the aching fatigue, and the countless battle scars.

“Was just leaving,” Jason announced curtly.

“Ngaw, don’t be like that,” Dick tried to persuade him, “Stay a little while. We can catch up.”

“There’s nothing to catch up on,” Jason insisted, “Bye.”

He glanced once at you, and then left without saying a word.

There was a stark difference between the way he was with you and the way he was with Dick. In the short future, you would come to realize that it wasn’t that he was different with everyone else. Jason treated everyone else with the cold, rough demeanor you witnessed- but never you. You were the only one who knew him as though that Jason never died.

You saw Dick’s shoulders slump in disappointment. “How long was he here for?”

“About an hour?” you answered nonchalantly, going back to your case files.

“He has never spoken to me for more than 15 minutes,” Dick informed you, “Even then he would give non-committal answers.”

“Really?” you asked, frowning to yourself. It took just a little while for the both of you to go back to how things used to be. “Maybe he’s more upset at you since you’re his brother.”

“Nah, don’t think that’s it,” Dick came up behind you and nuzzled his face in your neck. “You smell good. Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you hummed, “How was… Your mission?”

“Tiring,” he complained, “You choose a case already?”

“Maybe,” you replied, “Who was there?”

You heard Dick gulp. “Donna. Kon. Wally.”

“And?”

“Kori.”

You felt your chest tighten again. “Okay. I’m tired too. I think I’ll go to bed now.”

“You just drank coffee,” he pointed out, “You’re going to sleep now?”

“Or just lie in bed,” you responded, “Seeing Jason was… emotional.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair.

“You coming?”

“I have to patrol,” he looked at you guiltily.

“But you just got back,” you argued.

“They can cover more ground when I’m around,” he explained. “Sorry. I’ll spend time with you tomorrow, okay?”

You smiled at him and reached a hand to press on his chest. He was so committed, and that’s what you loved about him. He really, truly cared.

“Just stay safe,” you gave him a deep kiss, tasting the cola chapstick he stole from you months ago.

“I’ll see you in the morning, darling,” he breathed.

That night you lay awake in bed, staring at darkness. You let your shadow go at night, allowing it to take over the room. A buzz came from your phone all of a sudden. Another unknown number.

You tapped it open.

This is my number if you need me. J.

It had been a while since you smiled whenever you lay alone, unable to sleep.

And how did you get mine?

You didn’t actually care. You were just so happy to be texting your best friend again.

I’m just a genius, Sunny. You staying up late to work?

You contemplated your answer.

No. Just couldn’t sleep. What do you do now, anyway? Do you patrol with the rest?

Sometimes. I mostly do my own thing now.

What thing?

Another story for another time, sunshine.

I’m glad you’re back, Jay. Thank you for seeing me today. Can we hang out soon?

We can hang out whenever you want.

You were typing a reply, but was interrupted by another message from him.

I missed you lots.

I missed you too, Jason. We have to get caught up with all the slumber parties we missed.

Don’t think Grayson would be too happy with that though.

My best friend is back from the dead. He can suck it up.

I’ll see you soon then?

You contemplated again.

What are you doing tomorrow? I got an interesting case. Wanna tag along?

***

Jason’s heart broke when he found out that you were with Dick. It was a large reason why he was so angry, and why he became so destructive. But he tried to stay angry at you, tried to hate you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. The years without you were lonely, and he tried to fill up the emptiness with rage.

It took him so long after Bruce brought him back to his senses to finally see you because he was practicing. He knew he couldn’t bear to look at you and Dick while you were together, so he practiced controlling his emotions so he wouldn’t snap and scare you away.

But when you opened the door and he saw your face for the first time in years, everything dissipated. He didn’t need to control any anger because all he felt was longing. It didn’t matter if you were in love with Dick, all that mattered was that you were there next to him.

“Okay, so,” you began as you pulled the car to a stop in a street at Diamond District. “Rupert Thorne.”

“The guy who is running for mayor?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, browsing through the documents, “He allegedly backed Hill in the previous elections, but now he is running against Hill. My client wants me to find evidence of corruption and find out who his sponsors are.”

Jason saw the way your brows stitched together as you read through the file.

It was difficult to be in the same car as you. Even though he was in the passenger seat, he felt like it was a small closet, being suffocated by your demanding presence.

“Why doesn’t he sponsor himself? Isn’t he some sort of closeted crime lord too?” Jason asked.

“I guess that’s the mystery,” you hummed, “He must have been promised something, or he must have promised something- if he wins.”

You smelled like warm cinnamon and vanilla. All Jason wanted to do was to bury his face in your neck and breathe you in. The pull he felt towards you was almost physical. He needed to stop himself from touching you, from claiming you.

“So what’s the first step?” he tried to focus on the case.

“He works in that building there,” you looked outside across the street to the tall mirrored tower. “COO of Trident Shipping Company. He’s doing quite well in popularity lately… Articles say he is modest and humble, charming, thoughtful, charitable… The list goes on. Must have a great PR team.”

Jason smiled to himself. You were starting to think out loud, a habit of yours he noticed one night during a strategy meeting with the team. So many years ago.

“Anyway, we want to see where he goes, who he meets, what he does-”

“Oh no,” Jason groaned, “You scammed me into a stakeout!”

He really didn’t mind if it meant spending long hours with you in your cozy car.

“It’ll be fun!” you tried to convince him, “We can catch up in the meantime! Plus, I do also need to bug his phone. Might need your help with that. I also have some metka, so maybe we can pollinate some lead suspects once we narrow them down and-”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up,” Jason started chuckling in disbelief, “First of all- one step at a time, please. Let’s make a structured flowchart first before you start rambling off fifty-seven steps ahead. Second of all- metka, are you fucking with me right now? How did you get your hands on Soviet Cold War tech?”

Metka or spy dust- chemically known as nitrophenyl pentadienal or NPPD- was an old and outdated, yet still effective, Russian method of marking or tagging suspected CIA agents during the Cold War by the KGB. It was a discreet powder that stuck to everything. They would tag the agents at the airport, and then anything the agent touched would have traces of the dust. Including Russian assets- spies or informants working for the CIA. They would be able to identify the traitors.

“I’m a PI,” you said smugly, “I’m resourceful.”

Yes, you were. Jason beamed proudly at you. But he said, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, how about the bug?”

“I have this-” you rummaged through your messenger bag and took out a small silver card the size of a hotel matchbox. It had the Bat sigil.

“So I assume you have Batman’s NFC card because you’re resourceful?” Jason teased. He knew the gadget well. The near field communication device allowed hijacking into another electronic device with NFC just by near contact. It could allow for cloning the device, or installing spyware.

You stuck your tongue at him childishly.

“I wonder what Batman would think of you stealing his gadgets for personal use,” Jason jested.

“Okay, I borrowed it from DIck, and it’s not like I’m using it for personal reasons. This is a highly professional operation,” you huffed, “Anyway, if you could let me finish telling you my plan. It says that Thorne is into French girls and he usually comes out for a smoke break around this time.”

“And?”

“I will be bumping into him. The NFC needs about 30 seconds of contact. I’ll slip the card in the pocket where he keeps his phone. But in case I can’t stick around to take it out, you will have to come walking behind me to pickpocket it from him.”

“Sounds good. What if he’s using his phone?”

“I’ll bump it out of his hand and apologize profusely,” you grinned. “Okay I need to get ready.”

You unbuttoned your weathered leather jacket to reveal a white top with a low neckline, giving Jason a good view of your cleavage.

“Uhhh,” he started awkwardly.

You ignored him and looked in the mirror, smearing lipstick on your lips and smacking them. Then, you ruffled your hair to give it more volume before turning to face him with a “How do I look?”

The red you chose for your lipstick matched your skin tone perfectly. And he never noticed you had a tiny cute mole on the top of your left breast. The way your hair was effortlessly messy made Jason imagine that was how you would look like in the mornings, or when he takes a handful of it while kissing you rough-

“G-great,” he complimented weakly.

If he hadn’t already died, then you were going to be the death of him.

“Oh shit, there he is,” you opened the car. “Quick, hang around a few feet behind me.”

Jason saw you strut as you approached Thorne. He was tall and handsome, and looked good for a man his age. Jason could tell that his suit was expensive. His coat was probably cashmere. He could see why Thorne was so popular. He definitely looked the part. He was talking on his phone, and he was now curious as to what you had in mind.

From down the block and in the crowd, Jason saw you pretend to talk on your phone in perfect French, rushing somewhere unknown. He didn’t notice the cup you were carrying before.

“Ah, putain! I am zo zorr’y, Monsieur!” you bumped hard into Thorne, spilling liquid all over his coat and yourself.

Thorne looked surprised, and then pocketed his phone in his coat. “It’s quite alright.”

“No, no, pleez. Let me ‘elp you,” you made a fuss. You took out a handkerchief from your bag and simultaneously shrugged off your jacket. Jason smirked to himself. No hot-blooded male would be able to resist the sight of you in a wet white low neckline t-shirt.

“Let me pay for your dry cleaning,” you worried, “Oh, putain it speeled down here too.”

You got on your knees and started dabbing the hem of his coat.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Thorne smiled and held your shoulder in a gesture to help you up.

“I am really zo zorr’y,” you looked up at him.

A flash of lust sparked Thornes’ eyes, and Jason knew you were batting your eyelashes at him from that angle. It made him want to punch Thorne square in the jaw.

“It’s really alright, madam,” he insisted, “It was my fault for standing in the middle of a busy pedestrian walkway.”

“I should ‘ave watched where I was walking,” you bit your lip and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well, let’s just both move on from this. Please don’t worry, I can get my assistants to get me another coat,” he rested his hand on your lower back as he walked you towards the street. “Here is my business card. Feel free to contact me if you need any help navigating the city. I would love to show you all the fine restaurants in Gotham.”

“Monsieur, you are too kind,” you pouted.

“I should thank you for bumping into me,” he winked, “It’s not everyday I get to see a beautiful lady.”

You pretended to blush.

“I have to go now,” he announced, “Please give me a call.”

And with that, he entered the building.

You walked towards Jason with the look of a kid who scored his first goal.

But then, facing him now, Jason swore under his breath. No wonder you managed to bewitch Thorne so easily.

Your shirt was practically see through, and everyone was turning their heads at you. He could see your black lacy bra, and how your tits bounced as you jogged towards him.

“Hells to the yes!” you celebrated, “That was more than thirty seconds. I got the card back and- what are you doing?”

Jason had grabbed your jacket and forcefully put it over your shoulders. “Let’s hurry back to the car.”

Yeah, you were going to be the death of him.

[goldenvulpine]

ok here is a helpful guide for Superman fans in Tumblr when referring to different eras of Superman:

Golden Age Superman: Kal-L. The Original. Very cocky. Very charismatic. Couldn’t fly as a kid. Has no solid code against killing. Chaotic Good. Can actually fly now. Has a disturbingly high kill count. Loves Toxic Women (Lois Literally Drugged him one time). Literal WW2 veteran. Not from Kansas. Smallville, East Coast (likely New York). Is now married to Lois. Head of the Daily Star (not Planet). Is Power Girl’s cousin. Is very aggressive. Still saved people from suicide canonically. Canonically religious (Married Lois in a Kryptonian Ceremony). “What trauma?” Seen everyone he loves die.

Silver Age Superman: Kal-El. The Most Popular. Speaks fluent Kryptonese. Total “50’s Dad”. The Strongest. Also the most conformist. Strict Code against killing. Lawful Good. From Smallville. Is canonically Religious (For Rao, his culture’s God). Has multiple cousins. From Smallville, East Coast (likely Maryland this time). Says he wouldn’t hit a woman. Probably has. Sneezed a Solar System Away. Somehow the WEIRDEST one. Also the biggest Prankster. Was Superboy. Was part of the Legion. Saw Pa die. Refuses to acknowledge his trauma. Needs a hug but won’t say it. Works for the Daily Planet. Alan Moore loves him.

Bronze Age Superman: Kal El. Actually just Silver Age Superman but “weaker”. Still the Strongest. Your favorite writer’s favorite Superman. Neutral Good. Originator of the Clex Drama. Met God. Is a pure scientist. Has Three Canon Endings. All of them are literal tragic endings. Is best bros with Batman. Is the Original Nightwing. His cousin is the Second Nightwing. Dick is actually the Third Nightwing. Loves his bro Jimmy Olsen. Smarter than Batman. Made a vow to protect life. Newscaster. Grant Morrison and Mark Waid love him.

Dark Age/Byrne Superman: Clark Kent (Kal El). Still moody. Weakest Superman. Thinks he’s Neutral Good, still Lawful Good. Doesn’t like Krypton. Designer Baby. Best Journalist. Canonically a Porn Star. Died. Came back. Most insecure Superman. Loves ‘Murica. Killed like three people one time. Strict code against killing. “Superman is what I do, Clark is who I am”. Legion who? Superboy who? Supergirl who? Football Star. Pure Sarcasm. Agnostic. People say they hate him but is the reason Smallville, Man of Steel and STAS exist. Literally wants to fuck Jimmy’s Mom. Triangle Era (90’s) Superman: Clark Kent (Kal-El). Is less moody now. Makes more Jokes. Still a drama queen. Smarter. Stronger. Wants to write a Novel. Married Lois. Jimmy is the Best Man. Good Leader. True Lawful Good. The Superman you probably think of the Most. Coolest guy. 90’s Superboy (the best) 90’s Supergirl (Matrix). Was once Gangbuster (Chaotic Neutral). Mind so strong, he killed a psychic in his sleep without knowing it. Christian (Married Lois in a Church). Still knows Kryptonian Kung Fu (Torquasm Vo/Rao). Dick Grayson’s 3rd Dad. Tim Drake’s 4th Dad. Slept with a Mermaid in Collage. Is fun.

Post-Crisis/2000’s Superman: Clark Kent (Kal El) Retcons out the ass. Kara comes back. Knows Boxing now. Knows Kung Fu. Held a Black Hole in his hand. Destroyed Moons. Agnostic. Still Lawful Good. Loves his wife. Loves his adopted son. Chris Kent. His son is Nightwing. His other son is also Nightwing. Walked the earth one time because of war crimes. Saves people from suicide again. Was a Kryptonian general one time. Literal Genius. Smarter than Batman. Is the GOAT. Hates the President.

New 52 Superman: Clark Kent (Kal-El) Very cocky. Very charismatic. Couldn’t fly as a kid. Has no solid code against killing. Chaotic Good to Neutral Good. Lower kill count than Post-Crisis. Loves Toxic Women (Loves the craziest version of Diana). Had a Mid-Life Crisis in his Mid-20’s. Was a Wrestler. Talks like Jason Todd/Wally West/Nightwing/Peter Parker/every mid-20’s white boi in the 90’s-00’s. Everyone hated him. Wasn’t as bad as they say. Is the Andrew Garfield/Spider-Man of Supermen. Killed off without good reason.

Rebirth Superman: Clark Kent (Kal-El). Is literally just Triangle Era Superman. With kids. No Chris tho. Still Lawful Good. Strongest of the Post-Crisis versions. Tries to be a good dad. Is a decent dad. Except for the time where he left Jon alone. So he’s a bad dad. I’m still not over that. Bendis loves him. Says please alot. Watches Anime. Kind of a dead beat. I miss Chris.

if you want summations of other Supermen I didn’t cover you are welcome to ask.

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of It - Anniversary

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, no warnings.

Word count: 1,800

Summary: After two years together, Jason takes her out somewhere special for their anniversary.

Masterlist

It was mid morning when Jason called. 

That was deeply unusual, this month especially. He had been so busy lately she barely saw him except for the days she got up and found him dead to the world on the other side of her bed.

Idly cataloguing the possible reasons for the call, Andy turned down the radio and stepped away from her laptop.

A serious injury? Unlikely, that call typically came from Alfred and would have happened three hours ago. Location compromised, maybe? Pretty good chance, although it wasn’t usually a call but an emergency alert telling her to get her ass out the door. Maybe he was loopy on fear-toxin antidote again and needed to hear she was still alive. 

Most likely situation was Jason calling to tell her he was leaving the country, or the planet, or possibly the universe. Given the timing, it would be… well. Not crushing, but disappointing. 

Two years into this relationship, she knew better than to get too precious about calendar dates. 

“Hello?” she said with a jaunty tilt of her head. No pre-emptive sulking, she refused. 

“Hey beautiful,” Jason’s voice came through the little speaker. It was warm and low. “I’ve missed your voice.”

Her eyebrows rose and relief lit up her face. “Did you just? I’ve got a presentation tomorrow that needs some rehearsing, want to listen to my dulcet tones talk about community support funding?”

He laughed. “I would actually, but I’d rather hear the whole story from the beginning. Are you free this saturday?”

“Hmm, am I free this saturday?” she drawled. “On our anniversary?”

“Yup, that saturday.”

“Why, yes, baby, I think I am. Why do you ask?”

“You’re not free anymore. I’m calling dibs.” 

“Oh?” She dared to feel not just relief but anticipation. 

“8pm. I’ll come get you.” 

“Alright. How am I dressing? Steel capped boots? Running shoes? Ballet flats?” She had learned the vital importance of this question since going out with him. Jason’s plans were best faced prepared. 

“Heels,” he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “Wear that slinky red number you hide at the back of the closet.”

She paused. Of course he’d seen it. “I’ve… never actually worn that before.”

“What did you get it for then?” he asked, teasing. 

“Oh, you know. Maybe I’ll get invited to the Oscars.”

He laughed, low and promising. “I’ll make you feel like you did.”

She bit her lip. She was grinning like an idiot, alone in her own apartment. Two years in and she could still melt her with a word. 

“Okay.” 

“I’ll see you Saturday, sweetheart.” 

They hung up and she drifted to her closet, eyeing up the dress. 

He couldn’t make their first anniversary. The planet was under an invasion while Bruce was off-world dealing with some other, separate invasion, so Jason and Dick split up cowl temping duties. Dick went to go play Batman with the Justice League and Jason stayed to play Batman in Gotham. 

He was more than capable of it and the average criminal didn’t even realise there was a different guy under the cowl. They just thought Batman was feeling extra mean this month. But it more than doubled his workload.

It didn’t blindside her. They were both disappointed but didn’t make a fuss, they had a system in place for these things. Both made compromises and extended grace to the other, and their relationship was stronger for it.

All the same, when Saturday night rolled around and she heard the purr of a car rolling up outside, excitement fizzed in her chest like bubbles in champagne.

She put on her finishing touches and went out to meet him. 

Jason waited for her in a perfectly tailored black suit. He didn’t fancy himself up very often, or ever, in fact. Having him dressed up was more of a luxury than the McLaren sports car he was leaning against. 

She drank in the sight of him. He looked like he could put Brucie Wayne to shame. The smirk on his face completed the ensemble.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said. 

She wore her floor length evening dress, with a halter neck and the most indulgent plunging neckline she had ever worn, to say nothing of the split in the skirt. It was also bright red. She felt a little shy in it, but it wasn’t a dress for hiding in. She had towering black stilettos on her feet and a lazy swing in her hips. She wanted him to look his fill. 

His eyes roamed over her with open appreciation. They were shortly followed by his hands, settling on her hips. He pulled her to him.

How was he still so much taller than her? 

He kissed her, slow and deep and hungry. She leaned into him. He luxuriated in her. 

Her night was off to a wonderful start. 

Once they could bring themselves to part, he helped her into the car, and drove them off into the night. She put her hand on his thigh. He interlocked his fingers with hers and drove one handed. Gotham’s lights flashed by as they left their native little corner of the city behind. They wound through the Diamond District. 

They slowed to a stop in the courtyard of a softly glowing restaurant. There was a cellist playing in the foyer. She recognised the name in a looping font over the door. She’d read it on some list of world best’s. 

“You did not get a booking here on Wednesday. Did you?” 

“I booked a year ago.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t going to miss it twice.” 

She squeezed his hand. A ‘thank you’ wouldn’t encapsulate just how much it meant to her. She knew the case he was working on wasn't wrapped up yet. He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. 

She looked out the window at the people getting out of cars ahead of them. Doubt niggled at the back of her head.

“I may not actually be fancy enough for these people,” she confessed. 

Jason scoffed. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna put everyone else here to shame.” He killed the engine and turned to her. “They should be grateful for the privilege of seeing you. I know I am.” 

She smiled, ducking her head a little. He tilted her chin back up and looked into her eyes, leaning down towards her. 

“You know these windows are tinted?” he said. 

She snorted a laugh. He snatched a kiss. 

“If you smudge my makeup, so help me.” 

“Sweets, you know that’s a challenge.” He tipped her chin higher and kissed her neck, expertly dodging where she had blended her foundation into her skin. 

She sighed. She loved this ridiculous man so much.

A valet tapped his window and Jason drew back with a sly grin. 

He got out and came around to open her door for her. It was a necessity given how low the seats and how tall her heels were, but she was happy to lean into the fantasy as he took her hand. 

Doubt was for behind closed doors. With the world watching she stepped out into the courtyard in a flutter of red silk and her chin held high. Jason slung an arm around her waist, resting low on her hip. They walked like they belonged because who the hell was going to tell them they didn’t? 

They were welcomed in by the maitre d’ and led across the packed restaurant floor. Jason caressed the curve of her hip without shame. 

She spotted the empty table their path led them to. Jason stiffend at her side. 

At the table directly next to it sat another couple, presumably also on a date. Bruce Wayne and a gorgeous brunette with a pixie cut, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. 

Bruce glanced their way only briefly, and his expression froze. 

Dread broke through his public persona for just a moment, a look perfectly mirrored on his son’s face. The collision course was set. Jason walked like he was approaching the gallows. 

The brunette noticed the hiccup and looked back, revealing Miss Selina Kyle. She looked at Andy and rolled her eyes in commiseration. 

“Actually,” Andy said, tossing her hair back and stopping in place. 

The maitre d’ paused in his path. 

“I would love to sit on the mezzanine floor. With the wall of flowers? It must be so beautiful.”

She ruthlessly silenced her internal scream over making a fuss. She was not surrendering her evening to Wayne bullshit. She got waxed for this. 

“I’m so sorry, Ma’am, the orchid display isn’t currently available, we are preparing an exciting new display for the spring after Poison Ivy-”

“It’s what I want,” she said pleasantly. 

“Of course.” 

The maitre d’ redirected them with perfect poise. He whispered in a passing waiter’s ear, and led them to the stairs. 

Jason took her hand and squeezed it in silent thanks. The tension seeped back out of him. She squeezed back. 

The mezzanine was comparatively quiet, with a giant print of Monet’s water lilies erected to cover some construction works. It had a lovely view of the rest of the restaurant however and the glinting chandeliers hung down over the main floor. 

Table settings were arranged for them with a swiftness and subtlety even Alfred Pennyworth would approve of. Jason got to sit with his back to a wall and with sightlines over the entire pace, which always made him more comfortable. The table was small, they sat very close together, making it feel more intimate and private. 

There were no prices on the menu and she didn’t grasp what the minimalist dish names actually meant. For a moment it filled her with a mute panic. Jason gave her a calm look and played with her hand on the table.

“We’ll have the chef’s menu, and the paired champagne for the table,” he said. 

She was more than happy to be swept along. And she could pronounce the champagne better than the waiter, which calmed her fear of making a fool of herself. Jason managed to look exactly as at home here as he did while having a smoke on top of a dumpster in the Alley. 

The food was all delicious, albeit in tiny portions on very large plates.

Below the table Jason ran his hand up her bare thigh, his fingers sneaking under the split in the dress.

She made eye contact as she licked the last of a creamy sorbet off her spoon. He watched with unadulterated focus. She ran her bare leg against his briefly, tastefully, and then retreated. He smirked at her. It was the smile of a man who knew exactly where his evening was heading.

He lifted his glass, with the last of its golden liquid in it. “To another year, beautiful.” 

Next>>

[veryace-ficrecs]

Tim Drake & Jason Todd Angst Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

in the planter outside my front door by CosmoKid - Rated G

When Tim’s six years old, his third-grade class takes a field trip to the old firehouse in The Narrows.

By the age of seven years old, he’s learned that there’s a difference between pain and Pain, and that while adults are generally happy to deal with pain, they do not enjoy you talking about Pain.

These two things may be related.

This Dark Ceiling Without a Star by Miss_Lazy_Tuesday - Rated M

“For fuck’s sake, your chatter is going to drive me crazy faster than this stupid spell.” “Then you talk!” “There’s no point!” Jason snaps. “I can feel it, okay. It’s—there’s no emotion behind it, it’s not using my thoughts. It’s just a bunch of weird Greek echoing in my brain and a compulsion to act. And it’s getting stronger. Talking isn’t going to slow it down.” “Then what will slow it down?” After five long seconds of silence, Tim gives into the urge and viciously jabs his fist into Jason’s leg for the second time. “Goddammit, why?” Jason snaps, green briefly sparking in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly. “You are not seriously going to just sit there and wait to die.” “The hell do you care anyway?” “Because I don’t want you to die! Obviously!” “You fucking should.” 

unaware i'm tearing you asunder by hendecagrisms - Rated T

The pieces were starting to click into place, aligning to create a deeply disturbing picture. “Are you seriously saying you’ll become a missing person and fake your death for this stupid homecoming plan?” Jason interrupted, his voice full of as much judgmental incredulity as possible. The kid’s eyes skated back over to him, his face twitching into a brief frown. “What? No.” A pause. “I mean, we could do that instead, if you wanted. But to fool Batman I’d need facial reconstruction surgery and new papers and it would all have to be untraceable—,” he broke off with a scoff, shaking his head slightly. “No, it’s just smarter and more cost-efficient to do it for real.” - Tim learns about Jason Todd's return, does some research on the Lazarus Pit, and realizes that there might be a way to solve multiple problems all at once: removing himself from the picture. For some strange reason, the Red Hood doesn't seem keen on cooperating.

Grin and Bear It (I got blood on your carpet) by Alia_JuneBug - Not Rated

When Jack Drake’s business trip gets canceled, he is forced to stay at home while the legal kinks get worked out. He’s not used to having a teenager underfoot, so it’s only rational that he’s a little snappish around Tim. At least, that’s what Tim tells himself each time his dad’s idea of discipline gets harsher. Bruce had told him to take a break from Robin in order to spend some time at home with his dad, and Tim can’t say no to that. He knows Bruce is probably glad to be rid of him for a short while. And he can handle discipline. This is a Tim Drake problem, not a Robin problem anyway. There’s no need for Bruce to know anything. Things get a little muddled when an injured Jason Todd crawls through his bedroom window.

Thrown into the Storm by ThePokeOne - Rated T

"It figured, Tim thought as he trekked through Gotham's streets in one of the worst storms he'd ever seen. He'd been careless. So stupidly careless."

Or:

Tim gets kicked out, and Jason has a change of plans.

am i the only one pretending (i did it to myself) by rutaceae - Rated T

Tim doesn’t expect his latest civilian kidnapping to be any different from the rest, but when he remembers things best left buried in the past, things take a turn for the worse. Luckily, his family is here to help.

sallow skin (and they can’t look away) by Ghxst_Bird - Rated T

Bruce is off planet when Robin’s distress beacon is lit. He tries not to worry, but then Nightwing contacts him: Robin’s tracker leads straight into Gotham Bay.

1-800-ROBIN by spqr - Rated T

“Gotham Youth Mental Health Hotline, this is Jason speaking. Can I ask who I’m talking to?” There’s a long silence on the other end of the line, and then a small voice says, “I, um. Sorry, I don’t know why I called. This was a mistake. I’ll just hang up now.” “Hey, wait.” Jason drops his feet to the floor, sitting forward in his shitty cubicle. Suddenly his heart is racing and he’s not sure why, but he can’t let this kid hang up. “You don’t have to tell me your name. That’s okay. Just – why don’t you tell me why you’re calling?”

buy the ticket, take the ride by Anonymous - Rated M

Tim had always figured that if he ever woke up in Vegas sans-memory, it would be when he was older than fourteen. But there were some things he couldn’t control, and apparently whatever had happened last night that he didn’t remember was one of them.

hungry for strays by Ghxst_Bird - Rated T

Tim knows something is wrong with Batman and Nightwing, and somehow it all has to do with the new crime lord on the rise in crime alley. So of course he’s not going to stay at the manor while they’re out risking their lives. Tim leaves a note and sets out for intel on the Red Hood. Aka. Everyone is straight up not having a good time

Safe and Warm by sardonic_sprite - Rated G

Batman.

Batman lived right next door. Batman surely had a generator, or at least a fireplace and wood, or some way to get warm.

Batman took care of kids, and Mr. Wayne was really nice. He would at least let Tim warm himself back up. Maybe he could even stay just until the power came back on.

It was worth a shot.

Nervous Breakdown by AhsokaJackson - Rated T

Jay closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to push back the encroaching headache. And possibly the admittedly ironic desire to strangle this kid for his lack of self-care instincts. "Tim. Timmy. Answer me this. Where exactly is the old man? Actually, better question: Why in the ever-living hell is the answer to that anything other than 'right here'?" Tim gave a huff that sounded more tired than defiant. "Because, like I said, it's a mild case and I don't need to be under observation. I already told Bruce the same thing I told you: I'm fine." "And he believed that."

Don't You Know? by sardonic_sprite - Rated T

“How the hell did you think taking everything the real Robin had was going to make him proud of you?” Jason snapped. “I didn’t want to take anything,” Replacement cried. “I wanted to save it. It… Batman… they were… everything was just… It was awful, and, and Gotham needed… but Robin…” The kid looked up at Jason, desperation in his eyes, like he was trying to find justification from his accuser. “I-I know he wouldn’t have wanted Batman to die.”

Living Dead Boy by Terranpheum - Rated T

Tim was having a normal night photographing Batman and mourning the dead when Jason Todd suddenly breaks out of his own grave. He's unresponsive and catatonic, and Tim knows there's no way he can leave the boy on his own. So, he brings him back to Drake Manor to try and help him recover. It goes… well?

Instead of All the Colors That I Saw by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

Dick comes around to stand fully in front of him, keeping a steadying hand on Tim’s arm. “Just because you know you’re safe intellectually doesn’t mean you always feel safe,” he says softly. “It’s okay if you don’t feel safe.” “But it’s not okay!” Tim bursts out. “Because if I don’t feel safe, then how is Jason supposed to feel safe? He shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable just because my brain is screwed up!” There’s a faint sound by the door, barely more than an intake of breath, and his eyes snap to the no-longer empty doorway.

The Worst Kind of Crush by TimDrakeIsMyPatronus - Rated T

Civilians came first.  It was one of the foundational truths of being a superhero. Their job was to save civilians regardless of the personal cost. Each of them knew and understood the risks associated with the cape when they put it on.  Still, rules got fuzzy when one woke up underneath a building.  Or the one where a building explodes and Tim is trapped under the rubble

Last Request by destiny919 - Rated T

"Any last words, Replacement?" Red Hood casually crouches down in front of him. "Or how about a last request? I'm feeling generous. I'll do you one last favor before I clip those little wings. Whatever you want. Sky's the limit." There's only one thing he's ever really wanted from Jason Todd.

Echoes of You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

Graveyard mud, heavy and dark, clinging to a stained and torn suit. One shoe missing, a leg bent awkwardly and blood staining a bare foot.

Milk white skin beneath the mud, black hair hanging in muddy clumps around his ears. Blue eyes staring back at him, animal-bright and dilated in the brief moment before he flinches back from the light with a cry of pain that stabs through Jason to the soul.

His shaking hand closes around the flashlight before he can even think about it, cutting off the piercing beam and letting it spill out in shards between his fingers. For a petrifying moment as his eyes readjust, he’s sure that when he looks again, there will be nothing there.

“Tim?” he whispers.

The lean and ragged figure, tiny, god he’s so small, lowers his hands away from his face, away from his eyes wide and glittering almost silver in the moonlight.

Hands, mud-covered and torn. The red of his shredded fingernails is sickeningly dark in the broken light.

He’s vomiting before he even feels the bile making its way up his throat.

Petals for Armor by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

There’s a small half-moon of blood under the white of Tim’s nail where he bent it. He studies the red of it, feeling foggy and dreamlike. “Can I ask you a question?” His brother’s eyes flick to him and away again, surprised and wary. “What?” His nail doesn’t hurt much, just the dullest of aches when he presses down against it. “When you were homeless, you slept with people for money, didn’t you?” Jason jerks like he’s been slapped. His knuckles are so pale where they grip the steering wheel they suddenly look more bone than flesh. “Did I -” “Was it worth it?” Tim asks, drifting like a cloud over whatever furious reaction Jason was about to give him. “The money, I mean.” His sternum slams into the seatbelt with bruising force. Unbraced for it, his head whips forward and back against his seat as they swerve off the road again and skid to a halt with a screech of rubber.

farthest you’ve ever flown by rutaceae - Rated T

When Jack Drake kicks Tim out in a rage, Tim, not wanting to be a bother, tries to make it work without getting the Bats involved. But he can only go so long without being found out, and it’s not Batman that ends up discovering his secret; it’s the Red Hood.

Familial Ties by AnonymousWhump - Rated T

What he wasn't expecting was to walk into the kitchen to find Tim,  yes Tim because he wasn't in the Robin outfit he was dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, was that blood on his feet?  Staring at him in shock, eyes flicking from him to the phone in his hand, before mumbling a quiet,

“Jason?”  

Or, Jason breaks into the Titan's Tower to hurt Robin but his plan is quickly derailed when he sees signs of abuse.

Drop In by iselsis - Rated T

Tim's injured, alone in Crime Alley, and the worst possible person finds him. And yet it doesn't turn out as badly as Tim expected.

Watch Your Step Dear by Redaliveviolation - Rated T

Tim was having a great time watching the Dynamic Duo race across Gotham. He was getting so many good photos and he never wanted these nights to end. Too bad the heroes aren’t around when he takes a trip off of the side of a building.

[delusionalmultifandomwriter]

Please do a fic where adult jason todd gets comforted under/hidden in Batman’s cape!! the softer the better

your wish is my command (i missed the topic a little but it is super soft so i hope you like it anyways)

requested?: yes (i am so excited about this, ahh!)

words: 1848

Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Joker, Orphan

Oneshot, angst, hurt/comfort

TW: throwing up, violence, implicite self-harm urges (this got a lot darker than i planned it to be)

credits: the dialogue parts of the italic are from Batman: A Death in the Family

Have fun, thank you so much for requesting!

Ressurection is not exactly healthy. Which is not too surprising but still. The Lazarus Pit healed Jason's body, the scars were still there but very pale and barely visible anymore.

But the inner scars stayed, even after Jason and Bruce figured themselves out and came to terms with eachother again. Jason suffered from PTSD, who wouldn't after getting beaten up with a crowbar? The nightterrors and the coldness that randomly appeared every now and then were the worst.

This week started off with a night terror. Nothing uncommon, it happened all the time to almost all off them. Jason was at his own place where he was alone. Maybe he woke up his neighbours but at least not his family. He didn't like them worrying about him.

"What hurts more? A? Or B? Forehand? Or backhand? The crazy laugh echoed through the hall. Robin helplessly tried to craw away, his hands restrained behind his back. His breath whistled as he spit out some blood and mumbled a curse. The Joker chuckled evil and leaned down. A little louder, lamb chop. I think you may have a collapsed lung. That always impedes the oratory. Robin leaned up and spit the Joker into his face. The clown smashed Robin's head into the floor, his senses got flooded with the distant metallic feeling of a concussion. Nausea instantly hit him.

Jason shrieked awake. Nausea instantly hit him. He jumped up and nearly got tangled into his blanket. He stumbled into his bathroom and fell to his knees in front of the toilet.

Jason hated throwing up. Especially after a night terror when his mind was already full of thoughts. He leaned against the shower glass still sitting next to the toilet and waiting for the nausea to pass. After a few minutes he slowly got up and scooped some water from the washbasin into his mouth. Jason winced, his throat was raw and still shut tight.

He shivered, the bathroom floor was cold. Jason stumbled back into his bedroom. He grabbed the blanket from the floor and slowly made his way into the living room. He sat down against the heater with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He fell asleep exhausted on his carpet floor.

He was drowning. Breath. He needed air. Needed his lungs fill with oxygen. Cloth. There was cloth over his face. His mouth was dry. The sweet smell of death. He ripped the cloth from his face and threw up green, stale water. Flight! Where was he? He turned around and ran off. People. He took them out. The moves where in his muscles. He pressed his thumbs into the eyes of one of them. A tunnel. A cave. Darkness. Away.

The Joker escaping Arkham was nothing new to Gotham. Nothing new to the Batfam and nothing new to Jason. It happened a million times before but it still put Jason on edge ever since that night in Sarajevo.

He thought he was better. He thought he could conquer the Joker and arrest him again. It was a simple mission. A simple task. Then he met him in a warehouse in the Bowery. The green hair was brushed back, the purple suit dirty with some blood stains on it. The clown turned around and laughed at Red Hood hysterically.

And, hey, please tell the big man I said… "hello".

Jason saw red. He lunged at him and slammed the Joker into the wall, punched him in the face, once, twice. He could break him. He was not Robin anymore. He was taller than the clown now. Stronger. He could give back all the pain. He would give back all the pain. He slammed his knee into the Joker's ribs, a sharp crack echoed through the warehouse.

"Wow, that looked like it really hurt." Jason growled deeply as he lifted the Joker up a little and pinned him against the wall. He pulled him away and smashed him against the wall, the Joker's head lulled foreward a little as he coughed.

"Whoa, now, hang on. That looked like it hurt a lot more." Jason shouted angrily as he threw the Joker on the floor. "Now let's try and find out what hurts more?"

"A?" He kicked the Joker into the stomach. "Or B?" He striked out again.

"Red Hood!" Batman. Jason's head snapped around. "Orphan, stay here until the GCPD arrives." Batman ordered, Orphan appeared from the shadows behind the older man.

Jason finally snapped out of his murderous frenzy. His eyes went wide as he saw what he did. The Joker layed in a puddle of blood, his nose was broken pretty obviously and he was coughing and whincing weakly. Jason backed down when the clown started to laugh madly. Red Hood turned around, pushed past Batman and flea from the area.

The thoughts were flooding over Jason as he ran over the roofs. He was out of breath but he kept running and running until he fell to his knees. He leaned against a brick wall and ripped his mask off of his head. His face was wet with hot tears, smeared over his cheeks and neck. He wrapped his arms around his knees and tried to calm his breath.

He needed to get air into his lungs but his whole body blocked against taking a deep breath. Jason panicked. What had he done?! He disappointed Batman, he promised to be better than the Joker. He wanted to be better. His family would abandom him, what else should they do? He was supposed to be a hero. He sobbed violently, black spots started to dance over his vision. He couldn't breath. Jason felt like he would die here, alone on some roof, alone in this world.

Jason felt someone shake his body. "Jason." A deep but very calm voice called out to him. Jason panted desperatly as his lungs filled with air. Not enough to live but enough to survive.

He was lifted up a little and after that leaned against a soft wall. Soft wall. There are no soft walls, at least none that Jason was aware off but he was too close to fainting to truly bother about the existence of soft walls. Jason started sobbing again.

"Jay, come on. Breath." The voice said desperate. A strong hand was harshly rubbing his back. Jason inhaled the air shaky, his body was trembling.

"There you go chum, okay." Bruce. It was Bruce. Noone ever called Jason chum before. Jason was suddenly embarassed and violently tried to dry his tears up, rubbing on his skin roughly with his gloved hands. Bruce gently took his hands in his and Jason's head slupped against Bruce's chest.

Then Jason started babbling. "I'm sorry, i didn't mean to... he... i, i couldn't." He sobbed again. "The memories, they come back... the Joker... i can't stop it." Jason needed to hurt, he needed to feel something. He tried to pull his hands from Bruce' grip but he held them tightly.

"Jason, look at me." Bruce growled deeply. Jason looked up and as their eyes met, he couldn't find any angryness, not even disappointment. He looked back into his lap and sobbed quietly but his breath, although shaky, evened out a little.

"There you go. You are fine, Jay." Bruce said. "You can breath, you are okay." Bruce always was repetitive with his comforting but it didn't really matter to Jason because he was there, he held Jason in his arms and he was not angry. Jason could stay with his family, he could come back.

"You called me chum." Jason mumbled weakly, his voice was still filled with silent crying. Bruce chuckled deeply. "I guess that is true." Jason felt the hand on his back, he shivered a little as the cold hit his body. "Cold?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded softly.

Bruce leaned up a little and deattached his cape from his shoulders. He wrapped the thick, black fabric around Jason and bundeled him up tightly. Jason exhaled shaky. The bone aching cold disappeared from his body and the shivering slowly but surely passed. His muscles were burning, feeling weak like he could not move anything. Jason blinked drowsily. His sobs died down and just like that, his eyes closed.

Gotham City was no place for a kid. Not even a well-trained and resilient kid like Jason Todd. It was raining tonight, the wind whistled through the city. Robin sat under Batman's cape like an owl baby, as they observed the Iceberg Lounge. They had been sitting there for hours but Robin wasn't cold. He was warm. Wet from the rain but warm. He would totally catch a cold but not tonight. Not right now. Right now he was warm, close to Batman and sucking up his body heat. Nothing bad has happened to him yet.

When Jason jolted awake, he was no longer on the roof. He inhaled sharply, as he felt a hand on his back. "Hey, you are safe. It was just a nightmare." Jason turned around to see Bruce, leaning against the head of the bed with his laptop on the nightstand. The older man gave him a worried look. Jason looked around confused. This wasn't his bedroom. It was Bruce'. The kingsize bed spoke for itself.

Jason looked down at himself, he was wearing a black t-shirt and red and black sweatpants not in his Red Hood suit. "I'm fine?" He mumbled. Bruce smiled at him, it was weird to see him so relaxed. "Yes, you are." Jason nodded slowly. Bruce leaned down to the floor and put something heavy on his lap.

"Here, Tim got you this. You looked like you liked the cape a lot." Jason lifted the heavy thing up, it was a weighted blanket. He wrapped it around his shoulders. "Did i fall asleep?" He asked confused. "Right after i wrapped the cape around you. Dr. Thompkins said you where hypothermic and severly sleep deprived. What the hell happened?" Bruce asked concerned

Jason shrugged and layed back down on his stomach with the heavy blanket around him. He was still tired, his body was grounded now and he wanted to sleep. Bruce sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Sleep, we can later talk about you not reaching out for help" He finally said. Jason rolled his eyes. "As if you are better." He grumbled.

Bruce nudged Jason playfully. He gently rubbed the younger boys back. Jason sighed as he moved a little closer. Bruce pulled the other blanket over him a little and Jason was finally warm. "You scared the living hell out of me." Bruce said while he layed down next to Jason. The younger boy moved a little closer and Bruce continued to gently rub his back.

"M sorry." Jason mumbled sleepily. "Didn't mean to." He looked at Bruce with half open eyes. He buried his head into one of the pillows and Bruce smiled as he watched how relaxed and content Jason looked. He leaned over to kiss Jason's hair.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. Sleep tight, chum."

-----

Same shit on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55397161

:)

[vivika-ka]

I often think what would’ve happened if Best Jeanist couldn’t intervene in time and Dabi successfully killed Endeavour with prominence burn. Could he have killed Endeavour? How’d the Todoroki family story change? The society?

These are questions I ask myself as well XD I will try my best to answer them, but I do think many other profiles have covered them better than I ever could!

I, as other fans, am of the opinion that much of the storyline would’ve benefited from not maintaining such an extreme separation between hero and villains after the My Villain Academia Arc (MLA would be more so rebels, resistance, rather than villains—shown to have more support). The story from then on should’ve “converged” Shigaraki and Deku’s motivation—making Deku, and the rest of UA students for that matter, truly question hero society and work with Shigaraki, who’d share the spot as protagonist with Deku, to shape a more inclusive and balanced future. It would bring forth Deku’s most captivating character trait, that has had hints of being prominent in the beginning of the story: being the underdog.

The difference in the characters and plot’s approach mentioned above would’ve also solved the issue with AFO, if the War was to happen, as Shigaraki was as much of a victim in that scenario (both, plus UA students and MLA, would fight against AFO). But before I begin to ramble too much about that (and you may be wondering why I bring it up in the first place), the point is that I think Dabi vs Endeavor would be an awkward stage in the story to shift the perspective (in my opinion!) because the issues that have led to the war wouldn’t have interrupted the family’s confrontation and subsequent solution to their issues. I hope I explained that well T-T

I also want to preface my answer with how much of what I say is inspired by @linkspooky deeply informative and well written metas such as “…And They Were Brothers” and “Jason Todd vs Todoroki Touya: Why Not Me?,” many analyses posted by @itsnothingofinterest also come to my mind as I write the answers, as well as amazing insight from conversations I’ve had with my mutual @haine-kleine who has many incredible analyses and alternative routes the manga could’ve taken in terms of Touya and the Todoroki fam. All of this to point to why certain things I answer here may sound similar to their posts (it's because they compelled me and my reading of MHA).

Could he have killed Endeavor?

I honestly believe the story was either going in that direction or that he would at least be out of commission after Dabi’s reveal, either by retiring out of his own volition (as he did too late in the manga, imo) or too much backlash from the public to the point of him being a hero would’ve done more harm than good for anyone involved.

I do think Touya could have killed Endeavor. Endeavor being killed is a compelling route given the whole attention to Touya’s flame burning brighter and stronger than Endeavor’s—so much so that the first time I was reading MHA, I thought the attention to Touya’s fire was foreshadowing Touya killing Enji. I very much enjoy the notion of, "I am the monster you created, and you will die by my hand through no one else's fault but your own."

How’d the Todoroki family story change?

Going off of what I said above, Enji was also set to be a tragic character, in the sense that he was set to fail before he was retconned. The whole point of his atonement would be that it came too late, and as it stands now it feels too much like redemption because the audience doesn’t get a scoop on what “hell” he’s supposedly living (he is also surrounded by most of his family, has a found family, and it is still living in a position of privilege).

His failure would highlight how he doesn’t fully reach a point in which he acknowledges the extent his abuse went. It’s often him feeling sorry for himself and remembering the moments he thinks he was being a responsible father, whilst the memories his family have are destructive both physically and mentally. He often admits his faults but immediately undermines it by adding, “I didn’t think it hurt you/I thought I was doing right by you.” His dream entailing his family achieving happiness without him also acted as an indication he himself acknowledges he should be out of the picture if they are to find actual peace of mind and healing.

Enji dying would be great for Touya to realize that while achieving revenge against his father provides momentary relief and the illusion of “mission accomplished,” the accomplishment wouldn’t suddenly make all of his internal conflict disappear. It would open the opportunity for the story to nudge Touya towards understanding that while confronting your abuser is many times necessary, eventually you need to move on if you want to live without the pain clouding every action and thought you possess—essentially, he would finally begin a path towards healing, and “rehabilitation” (I put quotes because rehabilitation goes hand in hand with their society being unequipped with helping people like the LoV precisely because it urges them to conform to a society that has ignored them when they needed help. I would only accept rehabilitation if society and hero culture were to change exponentially based on the opening segment I wrote).

Endeavor being gone would also allow the Todoroki family to be in proper focus, and be able to delve deeper into Rei, Fuyumi, and Natsuo’s perspectives. As well as giving Touya the opportunity to reconnect, and connect for the first time, with his own family. Have a moment of him realizing the ways Enji hurt the entire family, and that burning all of them together would only result in suffering for every party involved, himself included, without any substantial outcome. It would give Touya a way to connect with Shouto, and the others, without Enji breathing down their necks (the focus wouldn’t be solely Enji’s point of view).

I think Rei could flourish into who she is outside of her family (Himura, her parents, the supposed role she had to play that brought her immense suffering) and be able to truly grieve what happened to her; Fuyumi could explore the pain of being a parentified daughter and how she doesn’t have to always be her father’s advocate; Natsuo is interesting because he, like Touya, would be able to reassess his rage and work towards moving on as well. Shouto, as much as I enjoy his character (to a certain point), had the narrative conveniently focus on his ties with Enji despite his so-called rebellion, resulting in his pain being constantly undermined for the sake of validating his father’s pain and regret. I think him being allowed to express the anger, the sadness, the hurt, and have someone (Touya) who understands, would be stellar. The way he’d save Touya could go beyond not killing him but demonstrating that his flames are not Endeavor’s. As linkspooky says in their meta, Shouto needed outside interference for him to regain some level of autonomy, and him relaying this autonomy to Touya would be great.

One may assume that these things could have happened with Enji still alive, but given the direction the story takes in maintaining the focus more so on Endeavor’s suffering and how the family all of a sudden has the responsibility to lift him up (yes, I hate this), it shows that it is either Enji or the rest of the family.

The society?

Something I’ve come to realize after exchanging ideas with haine-kleine is that Enji dying would be a good opportunity in showing society that while you can live in total ignorance, it doesn’t erase their role in maintain a status quo in which an influential man gets to abuse his family because he is obsessed with achieving a pedestal society too willingly and unquestionably venerates. How he would most definitely become a martyr to some, but also how he would be the stain in hero society and society in general. A hero killed by a monster of his own making—a monster fueled by his father’s obsession born from society’s failures. [I hope I explained this correctly, forgive me if I didn’t]

I think Enji would then become a warning to both society and hero society. Showing the dangers of complacency and blind support (society); and how being hero entails more than status and power, that being a hero doesn’t give you authority to do awful things to others, and that one day the “monster” you created may very well be your demise (hero society).

I hope I answered the questions properly. I highly recommend reading the metas by the profiles I've provided here, seeing as they are well articulated!

[rotten7rat]

Jason Todd Playlist Analysis

PART 12

Like That by Bea Miller

Jason keeps going despite Bruce’s and Batman’s disapproval in his methods, even when he’s not killing. Bruce’s mistrust and distain only harden his resolve. It makes it easier for him to be on his own, to operate outside the Bats. At least that’s what he tells himself. Mostly its true.

Can see it from the way you looking at me

You don't think I'm worth your time

Don't care about the person that I might be

Offended that I walk the line

Bruce looks at Jason with contempt. He’s made no effort to get to know Jason for who he is now, still so hung up on who he was before Ethiopia. He’s not willing to give him a chance because of their different views and methods. Jason walks the line between hero and villain in Bruce’s eyes.

So what if I'm not

So what if I'm not everything you wanted me to be?

So what if I am

So what if I am more than you can see?

Jason isn’t Bruce’s perfect little soldier, his Robin, his dead son. He’s not what Bruce planned for him, he’s his own person and he doesn’t need Bruce’s approval, but his recognition wouldn’t hurt. He does good, even if it’s sometimes accompanied by bad. He’s using Bruce’s training, and his own training. He’s calculating and intelligent, he saves lives, even if he’s taken them too. He’s more than a fallen soldier, he’s here, he’s alive, and he’s making a difference, even if Bruce only sees his sins.

When you treat me like that, when you treat me like that

It's pushin' me harder, it's pushin' me harder

When you breakin' my back, when you breakin' my back

I only get stronger, I only get stronger

I should've walked away one year ago

When you said I wouldn't make it out alive

Bruce’s disapproval just solidifies his decision to remain on the outside. He doesn’t need his family if they don’t want him. He’ll keep protecting the alley, he’ll keep doing things his way. He should have known not to bother after that night with the Joker and the Batarang, he should have known he wasn’t wanted or welcome.

As far as I can tell, it's kinda crazy

That you even care at all

Convincing everybody you can save me

But you're the one who made me fall

In Jason’s eyes, he is the way he is because of Bruce, in a way. For all the preaching of his independence, he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Bruce’s shortcomings. When he does reach out to Jason its for that fifteen-year-old that ran away from home, but he only ran away from home because Bruce didn’t trust him. And when he died he didn’t avenge him.

Why you wanna see me bleed?

Why you wanna watch me fall apart?

Try to find the worst in me

But I won't follow you into the dark

Batman doesn’t want Red Hood in Gotham as long as he’s using deadly force, and even when Jason stops Bruce refuses to see the good Jason does, he only ever sees the worst in him.

[dc-and-arfrona]

Reassured

----

Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 700+

Masterlist

Summary: You get some reassurance. 

---

You found yourself sitting in the Batcave, surrounded by the shadows of Gotham City. Your heart raced as you watched Jason Todd, the Red Hood, meticulously cleaning his weapons. There was a certain allure to his ruggedness and the danger that seemed to follow him wherever he went. But with that allure came a tinge of insecurity. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy whenever you saw him interact with other women.

Jason glanced up from his task, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. He could sense the unease radiating from you. Putting down the gun, he walked over, his footsteps echoing in the vast cave. "Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "You seem a bit off. Is everything okay?"

You fidgeted with your hands, searching for the right words. "It's just... I can't help but feel jealous sometimes. You're always surrounded by beautiful, confident women, and I can't shake this fear that one day, you'll realize you deserve someone better."

Jason sighed, his gaze filled with understanding. "Look, (Y/N), I won't deny that I've had my fair share of complicated relationships. But none of them compare to what we have. You're the one I want, the one who understands me in ways no one else does."

His words struck a chord within you, momentarily easing your worries. But doubt still lingered in the depths of your heart. "But what if... what if you meet someone who's more like you? Someone who can fight alongside you without being a liability?"

Jason reached out and gently cupped your face, his touch both comforting and electrifying. "Listen to me, (Y/N). Our connection goes beyond fighting skills or appearances. It's about trust, vulnerability, and understanding. I don't need someone who can fight like me; I need someone who accepts me for who I am and reminds me of my humanity."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any signs of deception, but all you found was sincerity. He continued, his voice steady and unwavering. "You have qualities that no one else possesses. Your kindness, your compassion, and your ability to see the good in people, even when they can't see it in themselves. That's what sets you apart. That's what draws me to you."

A sense of warmth enveloped you as Jason's words washed away your doubts. You realized that your insecurity stemmed not from his actions, but from your own inner fears. His reassurance gave you the strength to confront your insecurities head-on.

"Jason," you said, your voice filled with newfound conviction, "I hear you, and I'm willing to trust in us. No more jealousy, no more doubts. From now on, I'll focus on cherishing what we have."

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Jason's lips, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. "That's all I ever wanted," he whispered, his voice laced with tenderness.

In that moment, you knew that your bond was unbreakable. Together, you would conquer the shadows of insecurity and forge a love that could withstand the tests of time.

As the two of you held each other, the Batcave faded into the background, replaced by a future where jealousy was nothing more than a distant memory. And in the embrace of Jason Todd, you found solace, knowing that your love would always be stronger than any doubts that might arise.

[rubydubydoo122]

In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Child Death (it's Jason)

Currently, they were standing in front of a Palace. And they were definitely sent back to Medieval times, but not really because the clothing didn’t really match up with the architecture, and the weapons.

Oh, there was also a strong sense of magic, so probably more Dungeons and Dragons vibes. Sick.

Dick took a couple breaths, clenching his fists and releasing them. “Our money’s gonna be useless here. And we should probably get different clothes so we blend in more, but we can’t get those things because we don’t have money.”

So they were going to ignore the fact that the cashier’s name was Jack White. Like… Jack Oswald White. Like the Joker. 

To be fair, Jack White is a common name. Jason tucked the comic books into a hidden pocket in his jacket, “We should go deeper in.”

“But this universe’s Bruce is probably in the Castle.”

“It’s a Palace. Castles have defense structures. We can collect gossip from the maids.” 

Dick raised an eyebrow, “Gossip?”

“Yeah. How else are we supposed to get information on the Royal family? Use a computer?” 

So they went deeper into the palace, sticking to the shadows, and listening to people. 

Kal-El was the current King, but before that it was Jor-El, and before that it was Thomas Wayne. Bruce still has prince status, but he– he didn’t abdicate his claim to the throne, because he was fourth in line– Clark, Kon, Jon, and then Bruce, but Something something, the Els were gods, better if they had the throne, blah blah blah. So it was more like the Els were ruling because the people thought very highly of them. 

Dick frowned, “Does that mean he’s Uncle Kal, not Uncle Clark?”

“Just call him, your Majesty .”

The Els practically adopted Bruce after Martha and Thomas died, which made all three of them frown, because what about Alfred? There was something about all the Robins– guess there weren’t secret identities here either– being back together in the palace for the first time in a while . That also implied that Royal Bruce had already adopted all– if not most–of them.

Jason snorted, “Dick, do you think you go by Knightwing?”

“I’m pretty sure we all just go by Rob– Oh fuck you.”

Apparently, Dick was usually traveling around, helping whoever needed help along the way. Cass was in Themyscira, (Which, lucky Jason wishes he could go to Themyscira) but came back that morning, with Diana. Tim had been undercover in an enemy kingdom. Damian and Duke had been staying at the palace.

Then, Jason felt an energy. It wasn’t a bad energy, like an Untitled or a bad vibe from someone. No. It actually felt really familiar. 

He could feel the energy calling to him. Not luring him in a malicious way, but in a guiding way. He knew it was his energy, but it felt so much stronger. It was so much stronger than his own. 

They came to a courtyard, where Steph and Cass were sparring with each other, Jon and Damian were seated in front of Dick as he did some flips, Tim and Kon were climbing a tree, and Duke and Jay were sat crisscrossed in a corner with blindfolds over their eyes. Though, Jay was grinning while Duke was frowning.

“ Jason… I’m tired of this.” Duke whined. He was really young. Maybe, 9? “Aren’t you supposed to be teaching me?”

“I can not teach you, only guide.” Jay backhanded Duke.

“ Ow! What was that for? ”

“I am trying to guide you through foresight. Obviously, you didn’t see that coming.” Duke tried to hit Jay back, but Jay shifted just out of the way so he wouldn’t get hit, “I saw that coming days ago.”

Duke straightened a bit, “Really?”

“No, it was just predictable. I can only see bigger things, remember?”

Dick (his brother) immediately turned to him from where they were hiding, and whispered “Can you read the future?” 

Jason made a so-so gesture, “Not often.”

Dick frowned and looked like he was going to say something, when Cass stopped sparring and looked straight at them.

“Hold it Cass, it’s part of Duke’s training.” Jay also turned to face Jason, even though he had his blindfold, and grinned, “Alright, Duke. Your way of seeing into the future is different from mine. The way I can do it is through space, and astral projection. Your powers work by…” Jason trailed off so that Duke could finish the sentence.

“Changing light.” Duke chewed at the side of his cheek, “But how does that relate to me being able to see into the future?”

Jay took off his blindfold, “There was light yesterday, there is light today, there will be light tomorrow.”

“I hate it when you speak all cryptic.” Duke huffed and crossed his arms. “You’re like an old man trapped inside– Oh! Oh! Wait! You mean I can see the light of tomorrow, today!”

“Or, like, a couple seconds from now, right now , but yes.” 

“Then why am I wearing a blindfold?” Jay let out a snort, while Duke ripped off his blindfold and swatted Jay with it, “You’re an a–” Duke cut himself off as his eyes flashed golden, and turned to face Jason, Dick, and Bruce.

Jason raised his hands and entered the courtyard, “Hello. We come from a different world, by the way. It’s kinda in the future, but it’s not this future…” He looked over to Jay, “Was that our cue? We didn’t really have time to plan this all out.” 

“Yup. You guys are right on time.” Something… resigned flashed over Jay’s face, though was quickly covered up with a welcoming smile. 

Cass to Jay worry clear on her face, “There’s that look again.”

“I’ve got all kinds of looks.” Jay made a silly face, but immediately stopped when Cass gave him a don’t do that look. “Don’t worry. If it was important, I’d tell you.”

Cass visibly softened for a second, before placing her hand on her hips, “You better.”

Jay looked at his brother Dick, “I already told Bruce and Uncle Kal that we’d have guests.” 

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“That’s because you’re here right now. And you know Bruce would probably put them in the dungeon if I didn’t warn him beforehand.”

“I’ll put you in the dungeon.”

Jay opened his mouth like he was about to shout something, but Dick quickly covered it with his hand. Jay then bit Dick’s hand, “I wasn’t even going to tattle.”

Cass snickered, “Lies.”

Jay gasped, “You’re supposed to take my side. I’ve known you for longer.”

“Quality over quantity.” Cass shrugged. Though, she was smiling in a playful way.

“Wait, how long have you guys known each other?”

Jay threw an arm over Cass’s shoulder, “Since birth. We’re practically twins.”

“We’re not twins. I’m older.” Cass shoved Jay away, but then frowned, “Are we not close in your world?”

Honestly, Jason was surprised they were in this one.

…It was probably because Jay didn’t kill. That always seemed to be the main issue between Jason and his Cass. Initially, Cass absolutely despised Jason for killing. If anything, her lines were even harsher than Bruce’s when it came to that, and because Jason knew she hated him for killing, he just… stayed away. 

Then, one night after patrol, he walked into his safehouse to see her waiting for him. She told him why she didn’t kill. How she saw every life as valuable. She asked him why he killed. 

At first he said because the people he killed deserved it. And that he didn’t think the same way as Cass did. That some people deserve to die because they are scum.

But she didn’t believe it. Because she said that she saw him seconds before Jason had killed someone. She said his body language looked like he was convincing himself to kill. So she asked him again, why did he kill?

He had to think about it for a moment, but eventually he said ‘Because the people I kill have made victims. And those victims deserve peace. Peace that I can give them.’  

Then she nodded, and looked at him like she was looking through his soul, ‘Because you haven’t been given that peace.’ And then she just left.

Since then, it’s been better between the two of them, but Cass was still the person he got along with the least out of the whole…team. And Jason didn’t get along with a lot of them. There was Tim– which he seemed really close with in the fourth universe, and the Wings universe. He didn’t really get along with Damian– but the kid seemed to adore him in the last universe. Even Dick seemed a lot closer to Jason in the Wings universe. Maybe if he had never died he wouldn’t be alone.

“Um… no, but I haven’t known you since birth. With time we’ve gotten closer.” Which, technically was true, but it was a half lie.

If Cass picked up on it she chose not to say anything.

“Well that sucks. Anywho, I wanna talk to Giant Jason.” Jay grabbed his hand and dragged Jason out of the courtyard, out of earshot from everyone else. 

“Won’t the Kryptonians still be able to hear us?”

“Kon and Jon’s powers haven’t come in yet. And Uncle Kal won’t eavesdrop unless we shout.” Long gone was the Jay who was happy and joking around with his siblings, as he pressed a palm to Jason’s sternum and closed his eyes. “Ok, good. You’re also a master of the All-Blades. Yours are a lot more powerful than mine.” he could see relief flood into Jay.

“Kid, I’m pretty sure you’re a lot more skilled than I am.” Obviously if he was helping Duke with his precognition, Jay looked at All –the past, present, and future– better than Jason was. And he was pretty sure that Jay astral projected for Jason to find him.

Jay shook his head with a smile that made him look much older than he actually was, “You have a lot more soul than I do. Kinda like you have two.” they started walking farther away from the courtyard, “Have you seen what happens next?”

Jason scratched the back of his neck, “Um, no. I only look at All when I have a chance to sit down and meditate." He doesn’t do it often. It makes him a bit unhinged for the next couple weeks after he does it. The last time he looked at All had been right after Bruce’s disappearance, and he almost killed Tim and Damian. Jason may be the lone human able to master the art without going insane, but… he kinda does, every time he tries.

“A group of Untitleds are going to invade the palace looking for Duke in fifteen minutes. It’s too much for me to take on.” 

Jason almost stopped in his tracks, does he know he dies? “I’ll fight beside you. Should we get Duke someplace safe? All of your siblings, actually.”

Jay’s eyes darted around the room, probably looking at all possibilities, “No. They’ll be safest where they are. The Untitled will appear at the Eastern entrance. We’ll get to them before the alarm sounds, and then they’ll come rushing, which will give us enough time to slay most of them.”

Jason nodded, as they continued to speed off in silence. “So, if you knew Cass from birth, but you also have trained with the All-Caste… What's the timeline?” It was meant as a distraction, but also, Jason was really just curious.

“My father was a mercenary, and he learned from Lady Shiva. So I knew Cass from when I was younger, but it was more like we were acquaintances. After my father died, Essence found me and brought me to the Acres of All and I was there for two normal years. I left once for a.. It wasn’t a mission, because I was nine, but Ducra sent me out to get familiar with the feel of magic outside of the Acres of All. I found Cass on the run, and I decided to stick with her. I’m sure Ducra knew this would happen. 

"We were on the streets together for three years. We also met Duke out there during our later years. We were kinda a little family of our own. Bruce caught me stealing from him, Cass helped me get away. Then Bruce found us helping people out of a burning building and decided to take us in. I go back to the Acres of All every once in a while, but usually I stick to home base. What about you?” 

They had gotten to a set of double doors, so Jason assumed they were at the Eastern entrance. “Hmm, well, I was also living on the streets by the time I was nine. Bruce also caught me stealing from him, but took me in after I helped him stop crime school. I think my Papi also knew Lady Shiva, but I didn’t know he knew her until I was 15. Then I died, but I came back to life. Talia brought me to the Ducra, and I learned under her for six normal months, but then I–” Ice slid down his spine, making the hairs on his arm stand up and his stomach twist. 

They both summoned their blades.

And the doors opened.

And they attacked

There was something so oddly natural about fighting alongside this version of himself. It felt almost as natural as fighting alongside Bruce.

 It could just be because Jay knew how Jason fought because he saw All and, despite this version of him being from a universe that was vastly different from his own, Jason still knew how he fought. The blend of a martial stance and a street brawl stance. The combination of flashy acrobatics he’d learned from Dick and the practical dodges and rolls. The mix of the analytical eye from Bruce and the intuition he had gained over the years.

“ Where is the son of Gnomon?” the Untitled hissed in unison.

Jason landed a kick on top of an Untitled’s knee, launching himself up to get a good opening for a stab, “An Omen? Didn’t realize omens could have children.” Obviously, Jason knew who Gnomon was. He remembers Duke, pft, duking it out with him a while ago. 

But this Duke was still young. And if these things kept coming after him… he needed someone to protect him. And yeah, they had Superman, but Superman and magic don’t mix.

Jay needed to stay alive . 

Jason jumped on the Untitled Jay was currently fighting and sunk his blades into its shoulders, catching a glance at Jay.

He– he was translucent. Which was not good. “Kid, take a breather!”

Jason was sure he could take the rest of the Untitled. There were only five left. He could take them. Jason could take them. Duke needed Jay. Jason could take them. 

He willed the blades to change form– into knives– and threw them, hitting one in the ear and one in the heart. 

Jay’s eyes widened like he realized something and whipped his head around to the door, where the rest of his family were prepped with swords and armor, rushing out to help. Jay turned back and narrowed his eyes at the Untitled in front of him. 

“Jay! Stop! I’ve got them!”

There were three Untitled left. Two near Jason, but he wouldn’t be able to get to the last one. Not while fighting these two. Not before Jay.

Jason summoned his blades back to his hands and he slashed an Untitled across the thigh.

Jay closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, before gripping his swords harder. “It’s me or my family. I can’t have that happen.” He looked back and locked eyes with Duke, “ Shine for as long as you live, Don’t be sad about anything,” Jay looked away and lifted his chin towards the Untitled, “For life is short, And time will demand its due.” Then he charged.

And as Jay’s blade sunk into the heart of the Untitled, the blade started to dim until it evaporated into thin air. And then his hand faded away, followed by his arm, then head, then chest, until nothing was left.

Jason slit the neck of the last Untitled.

The silence.

The silence felt too loud. 

Until, “Where’d– where’d Jason go?” From Stephanie, voice wavering.

Duke frowned, eyes glowing golden, “What are you talking about? He’s right there!”

Tim blinked a couple times, but it didn’t cover the fact that his eyes were glossy, “Duke–”

“He’s right there! I can see him! Cass, you can see him, right?” Duke looked to the spot Jay used to be in back to Cass, “Cass?”

Cass looked at the spot Jay had disappeared from and shook her head no , once. Then twice. Her blank expression crumpled into pure grief as she fled back into the Palace.

“No!” Duke glared at everyone, “He’s right there! I can see him! Why can’t you guys see him ?” His eyes flickered from gold to brown, back to gold then back to brown, leaving the kid confused, “He’s– he was– he was right there!” He closed his eyes tight , and then opened them, “He was right there ! Where’d he go? Jason? Jason!” He ran over to where Jay was last standing, “JASON!!! ” Duke spun around in a circle trying to figure out where Jay went, but he couldn’t find him. He couldn’t find him.

Duke balled his hands into fists as his breathing began to speed up.

Then–an ear piercing scream.

And everything around them got brighter and brighter and brighter. They couldn’t tell what was Duke’s doing, but they also knew it was time to leave.

[shattersstar]

Bestie it is me, the anon from a couple of days ago, many mutual kisses for my favorite tumblr writer!!! I am a teensy weensy (read: very much) cross faded and was wondering if you would be willing to write just a little thing with the “desperate kiss in the rain” prompt from the list featuring Jason Todd or Adrian Tepes? I feel the need to be In My Feelings about fictional romance lmao

ghost of love

pairing: jason todd x reader

prompt: a desperate kiss in the rain

a/n: wrote this stoned lmaoo so twins <3 and thank u for the request ur so kinddd im actually p happy with this so here goes my first fic of 2023 besties. feedback is always appreciated!!!

—

Ghost of love bound unto your name

So it be running through my veins

Yesterday I fell out of grace

I made you feel bad again

I wanted all your reasons explained

Guess I wanted too much

Guess I wanted too much

—

Spring had made its way to Gotham, snow melting into slush and flooding the streets as the days grew longer and the winter chill started to recede. It crept into the past as singing birds and allergies were to come. It was supposed to be a time of happiness, of excitement for warmth before the general population complained about the heat plaguing the city in a few months time. But Jason watched the rain that had cleansed the city for a week already with certain disdain.

His apartment was silent save the rain’s ambiance—it hadn’t been this quiet in ages. Hadn’t been so hollow and empty since you came into his life. A presence to warm the space even when you sat in silence scrolling through your phone. Or when you cooked and hummed to yourself or when you took phone calls in his bedroom and didn’t think he could hear you sing his praises. It should’ve made his heart swell, flattered by your adoration of him, and yet it made Jason anxious. Nausea flowering in his throat at the sounds of your lies on his behalf, covering up the life he lead all while admitting how deeply you felt for him. He had heard that phone call so many times, a quick tangent usually, but it stuck with him nonetheless.

It was those moments—sweet and tender—he turned into something dark, twisted. The way you unabashedly reached for his hand at the grocery store, or called his name in a room full of people felt…wrong. You weren’t supposed to be like this with him, no one was. Jason didn’t deserve such kind words and outward gestures of love, and you didn’t deserve to be trapped with him. Stuck in something that could never really be anything. You were too good for Gotham and for him. He had always known it, tried to ignore it and just dwell in the bliss that came from being with you, but his guilt was stronger. More consuming than the feelings he had for you. It made breaking your heart painful, but a necessity.

He wasn’t yours to love, to have. He had said those words to you, “I’m not for you to love, or to be with. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep playing house anymore. This isn’t my life. You aren’t.”

His voice was cold, empty as he spoke. You couldn’t hide the hurt in your eyes, tears threatening to spill. “Then go.” It was all you were able to muster, standing in your apartment as he let himself out without another word.

He wanted to add it was because he loved you, but it felt cruel. He had to remind himself he wasn’t yours to love. Jason wasn’t for anyone.

And he believed his words, for weeks on end he told himself over and over again that he made the right decision. Threw himself into work and tried to burn you from his memory with violence and power. Jason ignored what headlines you might see—what you might think of him. He had never let himself care before, you told him what he did with that life was not for you to be apart of if he choose to keep you separate. You said it casually, with a shrug like Jason was supposed to know. Know that respect and privacy he could never ask from someone was being offered freely.

Jason supposed you’d keep your word, keep your distance from the bloody and chaotic side of his life despite him leaving you. You were good like that, honest and uncompromising when you needed to be. It made him smile despite the torrential downpour, knowing there was something good still in Gotham. Something—someone worth fighting for.

Yet, as something akin to peace washed over Jason, fate played its hand and it sent him reeling. A notification lit up his phone sitting on the kitchen table. It drew his attention away from the window he had been staring out of for a while, compelling him across the room and to read the two words that broke his heart.

I’m moving. A message you sent a minute ago, two words hanging in the ether that left Jason short of breath. He had already lost you, but this was like sand slipping through his fingers all while a tsunami rushed the shore. It made his stomach knot and guilt trickled into his chest like a steady stream. You couldn’t leave the city you had made a life in because of him. Because of the pain he caused you—no that grief, that guilt, would swallow him whole. Devour him till he was nothing, but bone to burn to ash one day.

Jason was out of his apartment in record time, not dawned in his suit, but enough tactical wear to hop across rainy rooftops safely. He ignored the chill of the rain that drenched him in mere minutes, he slicked his wet hair back and regretted his leather jacket as he landed an apartment over from yours. He huffed out a few breaths, calves flexing and whining from the amount of work he just put them through to get here. Jason steadied his breathing as best he could, grappling over the alleyway and to his surprise, landing right behind you. You were next to a small pigeon coop someone kept on the roof, the stretching piece of plywood was a makeshift roof you just fit under. You had a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, the bottom corner wet with rain water likely from the puddles on the roof.

He let out a sigh that caught your attention. You glanced over your shoulder before your face fell. Your phone was still in your hands and Jason wondered if you texted him because you were up here. Staring out into the city and thinking of him as he was you. “You’re moving.” He found himself saying, more accusatory than he intended, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when desperation wafted off of him in waves.

“Yeah, I just…can’t with this city anymore.” You turned fully, you had never looked so small before. So withered and tired. You look like you had been crying recently and Jason’s resolved weakened. He assured himself that cutting you out of his life was right, to save you pain in the long run, but the pain you wore so clearly now was a gut punch. It was wrenching and Jason didn’t know what to say to fix anything.

“When?” He asked instead.

“Not sure, Im gonna stay with a friend in another city for a bit before I figure everything out. Think I have someone to take over my lease so…” The idea of someone else living here made his head spin. This space was an extension of you—he could see your interest in what you hung up on your walls, your love in the plants littered around the space, your happiness in the smell of food mixing with the candles you burned and even your old grumpy cat belonged to this space as much as you did. It was one of the only places in Gotham Jason could…breathe. Think or not think and he was losing that and you—

“No.” He gritted through his teeth.

“No?” That wasn’t meant for your ears, he was trying to silence his own thoughts. He cursed to himself and turned away from you, rain soaking his face as his only then remembered it was pouring. “Maybe I shouldn’t have sent you that text…I think I knew you’d show up here—I’m sorr—“

“No.” This time it was for you, even if he still refused to face you, let you see the regret plain on his face. “I don’t want you to leave Gotham like this…not because of me.”

“I know, and I wish I could stay, but Jay its too hard. Being here and trying to move on is killing me.” You were calm, calmer than he anticipated. He wanted anger, he wanted you to throw his words in your face, scold him for showing up when he was the one that forced you away. And yet, you tried to apologize and were being honest with him.

“I wouldn’t ask you to stay, but I’m sorry for how I ended things. You don’t—didn’t—deserve any of this.” Jason was never one to admit his wrongs, but this was the end of something that meant everything to him once. He couldn’t let you go with resentment between you two. You let a beat of silence pass, eyes fallen to the ground between your bodies as you processed his words. Your brows pulled together and you took a step closer to him. You weren’t out in the rain yet, but stood close enough to the edge to make sure your words hit him clearly.

“What did you mean by that? Didn’t deserve…what? What we had before? Didn’t deserve a good relationship? Didn’t deserve to be happy? I know I don’t deserve how you’ve treated me since, like I never existed, but what didn’t I deserve before? You?” Your tone was jaded, it wasn’t angry, but hurt. It made the knot in his stomach twist, his heart wrenching at the thought of you undeserving of good things. It was all you deserved, it was all he wanted for you.

Jason whipped around as he spoke, breathless before the words even left his mouth, “You didn’t deserve to be in a barely real relationship. I can’t be the person you deserve to be with, I can’t offer that much of myself to you.”

Another beat, you hovered by the edge of the makeshift roof, before letting you blanket slip off your shoulders behind you. You stepped into the rain and took him in properly, soaked from head to toe, but Jason was still bathed beautifully in the moon and streetlights that barely touched buildings this high.

“I knew all of that, I knew it wouldn’t always be normal, but I accepted it Jay. I chose to look past the parts of your life you didn’t want to share, because I didn’t care. I still don’t. What we had was a real relationship Jason, to me at least, and I didn’t even think anything was wrong when you broke up with me. I thought it was actually great, for what we were working with.” You laughed at the end, watery, but your voice stayed strong. You meant what you said, Jason blindsided you more when he left you than with his Red Hood confession. His admittance to the double life he lead was a blow, but one you could digest. Jason leaving you? It was a grenade set off from within your ribcage that left no survivors. It was pain beyond grappling with the violence that surrounded the man you loved.

“But that isn’t fair to you. I can’t give you everything, but I know I’ll take everything you can give. You get half a person and—“

“I make that choice, not you. I’ll take half a person if its you. I’ve always known I’ll love you more, be able to give you more because I’m sharing you with a city hellbent on destroying itself. When you’re the only person I want to share anything with, of course you can have it all.” He was silent, staring into the dark skies and wondering what he did to deserve you. Had he suffered enough that it was finally time to enjoy the peace?

You put your hand on his arm, urging him to look. He let his eyes meet yours reluctantly as you sniffled. “I don’t need what you think is real Jason. I just need you.” Your voice was a soft plea, fingers tightening around his leather jacket. He stared down at you, so much ache in his chest for ever thinking life made more sense without you there. He wanted to apologize, again and again until his voice went hoarse. He wanted to fall into your arms and sleep for days after weeks of restless nights. He wanted to cook your favourite meals you always said never tasted as good when you did it. He wanted to forgive and be forgiven for all the hurt swirling between the two of you.

But all he could manage was a plea of his own, almost drowned out by the spring rain that washed away the cold weeks you both spent unbearably lonely, “Don’t leave Gotham.”

You nodded, “Don’t give me a reason too.”

The knot churning inside his stomach disappeared with your soft words, making him breathe out a laugh. It was surprised, relieved and everything you needed to hear. A smile broke over your face and the tears brimming in your eyes finally spilled over as you closed the distance between you two. Your hands rested on the lapels of his jacket. He let his cradle your jaw as the rain engulfed you both, foreheads pressing together as the moment overtook you two. It felt like a dream, like everything Jason wanted was suddenly in the palm of his hands and he couldn’t believe it. Believe he had let you go and somehow managed to get you back. He couldn’t decide what you deserved, but god he’d try be the person you needed him to be.

He wanted to say that, promise you he’ll try, but words failed him at times like this. Jason was all need, desperate for you to understand how much he loved you. All he could do was act, fingers tightening and tilting your head up before his mouth crashed into yours. It was hungry and pleading, begging and convincing you to stay with him forever. To know his love forever. You kissed him back with as much urgency as you could muster, just as desperate for his touch as he was yours. It was deprave how you both nearly crumbled when his teeth tasted your bottom lip. You hands had slid under his jacket, pulling you flush against him as your fingers fisted the dry fabric against his spine. He shuddered into you, pulling away with a heaving chest. You rested your chin on his sternum, blinking up at him with happy tears still overflowing. He brought this thumbs to the corners of your eyes, brushing them away before kissing you again.

His lips met yours slower this time, mending the harshness from his last kiss. It was just as needy, lips finding the corners of your mouth, cheeks and jaw before he found his way back to your mouth. Jason’s tongue swiped over your lips, one of his hands moved to cradle the curve of your skull, letting your head fall back as he left open mouthed kissed against yours. Your tongue slid over his and you wished you were in bed. Sat comfortably atop him and making out on some boring Tuesday afternoon. It was always those moments, those days when everyone else was consumed with jobs and school and life, where you and Jason flourished.

Or embracing on a rooftop, in the pouring rain, during the dead of night, while everyone slept.

It was moments where you fell into the corners of life, missed by the bustle of the city and enraptured by each other. It was all you ever needed from Jason, and he was ready to give.

—

Gonna stay humbled to this rock

Silently when I know that I belong

Tell me stay on the right track

You know I got faith and beliefs

In my life and just

I guess I wanted that much

Yesterday I fell out of grace

I made you feel bad again

I wanted all your reasons explained

Guess I wanted too much

Ghost of Love - Marie Fisker

[bethaven]

#22 Heartstopper

Plot: Nick and Charlie get placed together at form in school and immediately - sparks. Charlie's unsure if Nick likes him back, or even if he's non-straight. Nick on the other hand, get very confused about these new feelings. Meeting, falling in love and being out turns out to be more complicated than they could've ever imagined. But it's the love story of the century and together with supportive friends and family they can overcome anything. We also get to follow their friends and family in their own endeavours, like the relationships between Tao and Elle and Tara and Darcy as well as Isaac's ace-journey.

Years: 2022-

Seasons: 2 (season three arriving in 2024)

My story: There's so much to say here, but I'll try to keep it short. I discovered Heartstopper shortly after the first season had arrived to Netflix. It fast became one of my favourites and led to a few rewatches over the first year. But I didn't move further into the fandom just yet. When season 2 dropped I'd been longing for it all summer. I'd had a rough year with chaos at work combined with both my grandfathers passing away within two months. I'd been keeping myself distracted with travelling all summer, but then suddenly there were no distractions left. My mental health spiraled. The only thing that kept me afloat was Heartstopper. I watched all episodes everyday for about two months. I read the comics over and over. I went deep into the Osemanverse and I read books, which I normally never do. I got into tumblr. All of it kind of became my saving. And I owe it all to Alice Oseman.

Teachable moments: For me Heartstopper teaches us primarily about how love is always just love, in whichever form it comes in. Wheither it's platonic, romantic or other types of love, wheither it's the love you feel for your partner or the love you feel for friends and family - they're all valid and important.

Best character: Even though I love them all, I've always had a soft spot for Charlie. There's so many layers of him and I am really looking forward to how the rest of his journey will be portrayed on screen. He has the biggest heart and is so much stronger than he thinks.

Best episode: "Boyfriend" (S1E8). I love how this episode start at the deep end and ends on a high note. Nick's speach and their kiss in the corridor together with the beach trip just makes this perfect. A big runner up is "Truth/Dare" (S2E6), not the least for Tara and Darcy's story and growth.

Best quote: "I think there's this idea that when you're not straight you have to tell all your friends and family immediately, like you owe it to them. But you don't." (Charlie to Nick) This line has really helped me in my own journey about sexuality/attractions.

Fun fact: It'd be hard to find a fun fact that the Heartstopper fandom didn't already know (even though it might be true for all the series in this calendar). But for the not so initiated it'd be fun to know that Joe Locke, who plays Charlie, got the role through an open audition and this is his first time acting professionally. In 2024 he'll be both in a new Marvel series (which, in a parallel universe is quite funny since Charlie doesn't like Marvel) and do his Broadway debut in Sweeny Todd.

If you like this you might also like: Young Royals, Skins, Tales of the City, Skam and Atypical.

(Heartstopper is the adaptation of Alice Oseman's webcomic and books. Volume 5 was just released and volume 6 will be the last one. The webcomic is normally released three times a month, but will now be on a hiatus for about six months, until Alice have some volume 6 stuff to share. Also check out the novellas Nick and Charlie and This winter as well as Alice's novels Solitaire (where the story about Nick and Charlie started), Radio Silence, I was born for this and Loveless. She has also written and created the Netflix series.)

[klbwriting]

Broken Prism

Chapter 18

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x female!Reader

Warnings: intrusive thoughts, self-loathing

Summary: Jason does not do well when left to his own thoughts

Notes: this is angsty af

Bruce didn’t let Jason do anything for two weeks after the attack from Penguins men. It annoyed the hell out of him, pacing the halls of Wayne manor, unable to do anything while the rest of the house was able to go about their daily lives. YN was trying to make time for him but with Penguin’s arrest she was asked to see what else she could get now that more people were willing to talk so she was always working. Tim was at school, Dick in Bludhaven, Bruce at Wayne Enterprises. Jason had Alfred, who honestly was the most mysterious person in the house, leaving in the morning and not back until right before Bruce returned. Jason was going crazy, and he needed to escape, unplug for a while. So, he did.

Bruce had gotten Jason a new bike of course so once he felt up to it, he decided to take it for a spin, outside the city. He rode for a couple hours, putting solid distance between himself and Gotham, breathing a little easier away from the streets and the crime and the general despair that always seem to settle on the city. The lakefront town was nice, and no one bothered him as he hiked around the lake, finding a spot near the water to just sit and be still.

“There has got to be more to what I’m doing,” he whispered to himself. He still struggled so much with his role in the world now. He was a killer, well, a reformed killer at the moment, but a killer no less. He had made New Gotham the safest place in the city, had found his soulmate, reunited with his family, but something was still broken inside him. He could feel it, those shards of himself, the darkest, sharpest parts, that struggled to stay in, wanting to pierce through his chest and destroy him. No amount of care and love from those around him seemed to make that go away. Dr. Thompkins told him that everyone had those parts to them, that they were hard to deal with, but he could cope with them. It was the why bother he was having trouble with. Why bother getting better? No one really loved him. Even YN, that was because some insane twist of fate had put her there. If he didn’t give her color, she wouldn’t even care about him. Bruce, Dick, Tim, all of them. He was a tool, something to use. Why bother with him? He was just some urchin from Crime Alley who was born to be bad. He was of cursed stock, mother an addict, father a loser, he wasn’t better than that, just trash. He tried to push back these thoughts, he wanted to get them to leave them alone, he really did. But they came back stronger every time, and the laugh that chorused with them was more than anyone could take. He was trying, he really was, but he knew that soon something would need done.

He needed to face Joker. He needed to kill him. Bruce wouldn’t do it, fool that he was, but Jason would.

By the time he got back to the mansion it was dark outside, quiet, but when he got inside the silence was eerie. He wasn’t sure what was going on. He searched the house and found no one so he went to the cave where it was a different story. Everyone was yelling, even Alfred.

“You were supposed to fix his tracker…” “I did fix it! He’s not wearing it!” “I swear if someone else has him I am going to punch all of you!” “Shut up Dick! I get to punch everyone first!” “Can we all just calm down?”

“Um, what’s going on?” Jason asked, making everyone stop their tirades and look at him. Soon the men turned, looking from Jason towards YN. She pushed passed them and when Tim went to follow Bruce held him back. She walked up to Jason and shoved him hard.

“What in the fuck were you thinking?! You run off without leaving a note, you don’t take your phone! What the hell is wrong with you!” she yelled, shoving him again and again, each time getting weaker until she was just hugging him, arms gripping his waist as tight as she could. After a moment he heard some sniffles and felt his shirt getting wet. He didn’t realize she would worry like this. No one cared about him this much.

“I just…needed to get out of my head a little bit, get out of the city…” he said, trying to explain. He tried to pry her arms from him, but she held on tighter.

“No, I’m never letting you go again,” she said. “You’re not trustworthy anymore.” Jason looked at the others, searching and finding the same kind of worry on their faces and he looked down. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t right. He didn’t deserve this at all. He fucked everything up. Why did they care? Why should they care? He wasn’t worthy.

“Why do you care so much anyway?” he snapped, finally getting YN to let go of him. He stepped back and she stared at him like he’d shot her. “All of you, why would any of you care about me?” He shook his head, turning and heading back upstairs. YN followed him but he made sure to close the elevator door on her, cursing himself for the hurt he saw on her face. He really was just a worthless piece of garbage. Who hurts the person they love like that? He does. He went to his room, locking the door and ignoring the knocking. First it was YN, then Alfred, then Tim, the Dick, the Bruce. He sat in his room for hours, trying to figure out a way to finish this. Finish everything. He would go down fighting Joker, take the bastard with him. If he died YN would be fine, she said so herself, she had the memories, that was enough. He got up and went to the door, opening it and YN fell backward into his room.

“Finally,” she said, standing up and dusting herself off.

“What are you doing?” Jason asked. She cocked her head to the side and moved to pick up a tray of food by the door. Jason didn’t move.

“Get back in your room, we’re going to eat together, or I’m spilling this right onto the carpet and the stain will drive you crazy,” she said. Jason considered his options for a minute, but when she started to tilt the tray towards him, he relented and stepped back into the bedroom, letting her in. She set the tray on the small table in the room and took a seat, getting it ready for him. Everything he loved was on that tray. He felt himself warming a little at the thought of what Alfred had done for him. Doesn’t mean anything, just wanting to shut you up for a while. He winced like he had been slapped.

“How bad is it?” YN asked as Jason sat down. He looked at the ground, not wanting to look at her. She looked afraid of him. God why had he made her afraid of him?

“Haven’t had a day like this in years,” he said softly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. He shook his head. “Ok.” She sat back and when he still didn’t look up. “I’ll go, just please eat something.” She stood, moving to walk past him but he grabbed her hand.

“Don’t go,” he said softly. He felt her relaxed, her hand squeezing his before she sat down again. He finally looked at her. “Do you feel cheated knowing that I’m your soulmate?”

“No, I feel incredibly lucky that I have a soulmate like you,” she said. He grunted a laugh. “I mean it Jason.”

“Why? Besides the color, what have I possibly done for you to earn you?” he asked. She frowned.

“Why do you think you need to earn me?” she asked. “I’m not a paycheck, neither are you. You’re there Jason, you exist in this world, and that’s all I need you to do, is exist. I appreciate everything extra that you do for me, but just existing is enough.” He stared at her.

“Only because I saved you, I was Robin, now I’m Red Hood, take that away…”

“And I’d still love you. I don’t love Robin or Red Hood, in fact sometimes I downright hate them because it’s terrifying knowing you’re out there and could die…again…at any moment. If you took off the helmet and the armor I would still love you. Jason Peter Todd is the man I love, hell, even if you weren’t my soulmate I would love you,” she said. Jason looked away again, not wanting her to see him being this emotional. She reached out and turned his face back to her. “Jason, I love you.” He took a breath and stared at her, not finding a lie, a half-truth, sarcasm, nothing but care in her face.

“I wish I could feel that way about myself,” he said. She moved over and he pulled her into his lap, hugging her around the waist, head on her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his hair, her other hand gently caressing his cheek.

“Let me feel that way for you then, I can tell you about how it feels. Being Jason Todd is being a good son, a better brother, the best boyfriend, it means being funny, and so much smarter than you think, not always knowing what to say when someone is having a bad day but being willing to sit with them until its better. Jason is kind, caring, passionate, and has great taste in books. All of his girlfriends agree,” she said. Jason smiled despite himself and for the first time that day the intrusive thoughts subsided. He believed her, believed every word she said.

“I love you too,” he whispered. YN smiled and kissed his head. “I’m tired.”

“Come on, let’s go to bed, can I stay with you tonight?” she asked. He could hear the worry in her voice, like she thought he might vanish again. He nodded and she went to her room to change after making him promise he wasn’t going anywhere. He got into bed himself and felt her crawl in behind him. She wrapped her around his waist, and he sighed, loving being held like this.

[lightthewaybackhome]

Stargate-Atlantis S3:E7 Common Ground

To capture an extraordinary soldier takes extraordinary measures. - Kolya

This episode has so much. I teared up several times. The pain of the team being forced to watch Sheppard be tortured was so hard.

John shouting with his one chance to talk not to give into Kolya's demands. Rodney being the most expressive with his worry breaks my heart.

You are strong, stronger than any human I've ever fed upon. - Todd

Sheppard never stops believing his people will come for him. Everyone acknowledged how great a warrior Sheppard is, and he never once doubted they were coming for him. He doubted them once (in Epiphany) but he doesn't doubt them now.

I am basically furious Ronon in this episode.

The end when Todd explains that they heal worshippers and brothers? Gets me every time. 😭 I love Todd so much. I love his laugh.

Quite possibly my second favorite episode, but it's actually harder to watch the second time.

[confused-wanderer]

Jason flails about, trying to get his bearings as water envelopes him and pulls him under. He’s trying to find the light that leads him to the surface, when he sees a young Dick Grayson staring back at him.

Already submerged in its waters, he waded towards his older brother and sits next to the boy.

He doesn’t understand why he’s in the river, or what’s happening. Everything seems so hazy.. but it was too much of a chore to try and remember what had happened.

“Hey blue, what’s going on?”

The young Dick blinks slowly, before raising his head to meet Jason’s gaze. Jason starts, because the eyes are devoid of any emotions or happiness. They’re still and dull, yet they feel so wrong, like they didn’t belong to Dick. Dick, whose eyes always glowed with hope and love.

“I can’t make it stop.. the pain. Why..?”

“You feel Dick.. thats what makes you better than us.”

Dick’s fist clenched, and Jason watched in horror as the boy’s eyes blazed an icy blue. The look of anger, and the lust for revenge was one Jason could recognise anywhere. But coming from Dick.. it just felt so wrong.

“I want to feel.. “, Dick growled, the water around them growing hotter as wails erupted all around them. “I want to feel their screams echo as they realise and feel their heart break just as mine did.”

Jason awoke back on the shores of the river,. The image of younger Dick with malice in his eyes was burnt into his skull, and as he looked out to sea he could’ve sworn there was a soft blue glow in the distance.

A sharp tutting made Jason jump, and he looked behind him to see a silhouette of the river stare at the blue spot too.

“What.. what happened? What was that?” He rasped, wincing at how his throat felt like sandpaper.

Virgil’s eyes locked with his.

“This is the river of lost hopes and dreams Mister Todd.. and I am the ferryman who carries souls across to the underworld. Young Dick Grayson had a dream of revenge and murder. Bloodshed that would heal the wound of his heart, and the cries of the murderers lullabies that would soothe his soul.”

“That’s what he wants?”

Silence ensued, before the silhouette shimmered.

“The river of lost dreams speaks tales of abandoned hope. It is simply another promise of emotion that disappears with the wisdom of experience.”

They both watched as the blue grew brighter, before slowly sinking deep within the murky waters. Jason wondered how many of his dreams and hopes lay within. How many of his past self had he disappointed? How much of himself had he lost in those waters.

“It would be foolish to look Jason Todd.”

Virgil kneeled down beside him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. The touch was scaldingly cold, which felt like ice melting into lava, slowly trickling into his body. A touch that Jason couldn’t feel, but a weight that made his muscles strain to keep himself upright.

“It is not your time yet.”

The touch seeped into Jason’s chest, and he barely registered the explosion of pain before he could feel his heart beating again.

He was fading from the underworld. He could feel his lungs finally expanding as cool air worked its way into his body, how his heart was now hammering stronger in his chest, forcing him to move forward.

“Dick..” Jason rasped. He couldn’t leave his brother here. Not alone and scared like he was. He needed to find him, to help him-

“It is human nature to fail, just as it is human nature to shed. Shed tears, lies, personalities, friends, interests and love. But there is always consequence. Consequences and how you face them mold humans. This river shows the failings of mankind. It shows ghosts of the past.. and you can never move on from phantoms if you stay in the graveyard now can you? We never find ourselves until we are truly lost do we Jason?

Your brother shed his desire for revenge, and of this was borne his destiny to protect. Your destiny… lies with you. Choose wisely.. for I am intrigued to watch how the dominoes fall.”

Virgil’s whispers echoed throughout his mind, before Jason woke up again.

He squinted at the bright fluorescent light, before realising the familiar scene. This was Wayne Manor, and he was hooked up to a heart monitor. His body ached, so many things were definitely broken.. but he was alive.

A light snore stole his attention, and he looked to his side to see Dick slumped in the chair next to him, with his head resting on the edge of Jason’s bed. He could hear Bruce outside his door asking Alfred to make Jason’s favourite food before he woke up, and if he strained hard enough he could hear the faint arguing of Tim and Damian in the room next to him.

The curtains rustled, and Jason could’ve sworn he saw Virgil standing there in the darkness, his eyes bearing into Jason’s soul.

May the dreams you abandon give you more strength to overcome the despair you gain. Hope is never lost, but sometimes we must be.. Until we meet again Jason Todd.

Found this in my drafts, hope y’all like it!