#jason Todd’s grave

[deadsetobsessions]

This is based off of that one tiktok from @sorruna where it’s the audio from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse.

——

Dick Grayson was a sneaky, intelligent little shit.

He was also dumb. These things are not mutually exclusive.

To this day, one of his best kept secrets- one of the many, many that he had now- was something he’d take to his grave.

Or to Jason’s grave, at least.

Dick sat down and began telling the story to ears that would never truly hear it.

——

Batman’s voice rumbled behind him as Dick, in his Robin suit, stood blankly on top of a roof.

“I know you snuck out last night, Robin.”

Dick froze, train of thought about his dinner derailed. Holy busted, Batman! Quick! Play dumb!

“Who’s Robin?” He asked, the years of performing in front of a large crowd coming to save his ass.

Not that dumb!

Batman sent him a dry look, reprimand already poised on his lips. Dick, however, was nothing but a good performer. Nay, a dedicated performer.

Quick! Do something out of character! He shouted at himself, panicking visibly. He stepped backwards, an idea appearing in his head. In his defense, it sounded like an amazing idea at the time. He had no idea it would blow up into a Justice League issue. If he had known… Dick would have lied better, probably. There was no way he was going to let B bench him for weeks!

“Who the fuck are you?!” He yelped. Dick apologized mentally to Alfred and his parents. Batman paused, stunned.

“That’s my question. Who are you?!” Bruce asked, immediately hostile. His son doesn’t curse. Well, not in any normal way anyways. Dick quickly backpedaled by yelling at him with a heavy Vlax dialect, missing his parents terribly as he screamed stranger danger in rudimentary Romany. After this, he was going to have to convince Bruce to get him a language tutor. He refused to forget one of the only ties he had left to his parents.

“Wait, wait- you’re my son.” Bruce replied back, in perfect Romany. He looked more convinced but still skeptical.

“My dad is a circus performer! Not a flying rat!” Dick screeched back. He couldn’t help but feel touched about Bruce seeing him like a son.

“Oy! Keep it down out there, you assholes! Some of us like our sleep, damn!” A random Gothamite screamed out of their window.

“Yo, shut the fuck up! The vigilantes are helping to keep the rent low, motherfucker!” Another Gothamite shouted back.

….

Needless to say, Bruce quickly brought Dick back to the cave- with precautions to make sure he didn’t figure out where the Cave was if Dick was actually someone else.

——

“You would have loved it, Little Wing. B was running around like a headless chicken. The memory loss protocol was actually made because of me, you know.” Dick chuckled, sniffling as he talked to the carved gravestone.

It did not reply.

——

The blood tests came back. Yeppers, Dick sarcastically thought, who woulda thought I’m me?

Reinforcements were called in.

Meaning, Batgirl.

“Watch him while I contact Justice League Dark.”

“You think it’s magic?” Barbara asked.

“Yes. There was no one else near our vicinity that could affect Dick like this. He has no head wounds.”

“Eesh. Okay, go. I’ll watch him.”

Bruce disappeared in his zeta tube, looking harried. So, to everyone that’s not a Bat, he looked absolutely terrifying.

“What did you get yourself into now, Boy Wonder?” Barbara sighed. Dick was careful to keep any signs of recognition out of his face.

“Stop calling me that! Where are my parents?!” He asked back. Barbara coughed and looked uncomfortably away.

That’s right, Babs. I’m pulling out the orphan card. Feel bad. Dick hid his feral grin.

“They’re… uh, busy.” Busy being dead, Barbara thought, immediately wincing at her own thoughts. Apparently, Dick thought the excuse was lame too, and he sent her an incredulous look.

“Would you like refreshments, Master Dick?”

“What?”

Alfred held out some cookies on a platter, giving Babs a quelling look as she tried to reach for his share.

“Oh, wow, these are really good!” Dick said as he shoveled cookies into his mouth. He tried to replicate the reaction he had when he tried these for the first time, and from Alfred’s satisfied look, Dick nailed it.

——

“Robin doesn’t remember who he is.” Batman rumbled as he all but dragged Zatanna and Constantine by the scuff of their jackets towards the zeta tubes.

“Hey, wait-”

“We have no time.” Batman snarled, tossing the two magic users into the zeta. He punched in the destination.

When they got there, he glared at the two magic users until they got into the cave.

“Damn, Bats. Really living up to your name, huh?”

“Not bad,” Zatanna said as she looked around.

“Robin,” Batman- Bruce- reminded them. He did a quick glance over to check on his kids, and found them satisfactorily uninjured. Though, Barbara was looking worse for wear. Bruce quickly found out why as she stalked to him.

“You deal with him.” She muttered. “I’m going home.”

Bruce blinked and nodded. “Get home safe.”

Zatanna and Constantine followed Batman as he walked towards Robin. It was odd to see the normally laughing child frown.

“It’s you! The kidnapper! Where are my parents?!”

Bruce winced which, for him, was akin to a full body flinch and recoil. No wonder Barbara was so tired.

“Fix it.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Batsy.” Constantine grumbled.

“Well help, Batman. Though… I’m not sure if he should be doing that.”

Bruce sharply turned his head back to where Dick was. Emphasis on was. Because now, he’s halfway up the giant dinosaur the Robin had insisted they keep.

“Robin, get down from there!”

“Stranger Danger!” Dick hollered back.

Batman- Bruce Wayne- sighed.

“That’s high level magic,” Zatanna hummed. “I can’t feel anything, but I know for sure that he won’t die. Magic like that either dissipates naturally or…”

“Lasts forever,” Constantine finished.

Bruce groaned, shooting off a grappling line and swooping upwards to catch Dick as he fell from the giant dinosaur.

——

“I pretended to get my memories back later,” Dick chuckled. “And pretended to forget the whole thing. Bruce was so relieved that I stopped knocking things over and trying to do cartwheels in high places that he totally forgot I snuck out.”

Dick patted the headstone.

“But between you and me? I’m pretty sure Alfred knew. I think B pissed him off that week.”

[tiger-grace]

headcanon that after Dick Grayson being Robin all of the batkids interchangeably use “holy ____ batman” even at the worst possible moments

Steph, staring down at Tim in the medbay cot: holy common cold, batman

Tim: please stop

Steph: holy spleenless sillybilly batman

Tim: steph please

Jason Todd on the floor, bruised and bloodied: dad?

(The timer ticks down to three seconds)

Jason: well holy shitballs batman I’m going to fucking di-

KABOOM

[miiuxue]

grilled cheese

[reineydraws]

jason is a grandpa's boy and u cant take this away from me!!! they cook together, they discuss literature together, and when jay comes back, they clean their guns together haha. ofc they celebrate their birthday together too! 😌

✨️🎂 hbd jay & alfie 🎂✨️

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Something something Danny learns that Jason died and crawled out of his own grave.

Danny, to Jason: You actually got a grave?

Jason: Why? You want one?

He doesn’t notice how this could potentially sound like a threat from an outsider’s perspective.

[quadrantadvisor]

Thinking about DP x DC Jason Todd being a revenant again. Here's my scenario. Jason gets called that by some ghost. He's like "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He's heard the term before but he doesn't know any actual lore. He googles it. He scrolls past the Leonardo DiCaprio bear movie. He opens the wiki. Sees the words "animated corpse" and gets a chill diwn his spine. He starts reading the first section.

He closes Wikipedia.

That night he has a nightmare that his family buried him, again, this time with precautions. He wakes up in his own grave, full of stones, too heavy to move, to scream.

[vm-haunts]

Wayward Twin

A large part of being Robin, besides the physical crime fighting, is dealing with secrets.

Both in unearthing them, and in keeping them.

Tim would say he's good at both of it, very good at it. After all, finding and keeping Batman's secret is how he ended up being a vigilante... among other reasons.

Speaking of 'other reasons', Tim thinks with mild hysteria, as he stared at the carbon copy of one Jason Todd. Are Todd children cursed to die early?

...

Let's backtrack a bit.

Jason Todd had a twin brother, one Danny Todd, that was given away at birth. Later, a couple under the name of J. and M. Fenton gave birth to a stillborn, and they took Danny in as theirs. Then the Fentons moved away from Gotham, and the file ends.

That is one of the things Tim had found about his predecessor when he went snooping on the bat computer. The file is incomplete, investigations dropped far before the trail runs cold, then everything is locked under heavy encryption.

Not surprising, considering all that happened after.

So, Tim knows Jason had a twin. One that probably, hopefully, lived an uneventful civilian life far away from Gotham.

Oh boy was Tim wrong.

Because when Robin and his teammates arrived at Amity Park for a team up with the local heroes team, Tim was greated with the face of his dead predecessor.

Danny Fenton, as he introduced himself, son of the local ghost hunters, and a member of Team Phantom.

Danny Fenton, who is also the local spectral hero Phantom. Not that Tim is supposed to know, but come on.

Point being, Jason's twin brother did not get to live a peaceful life, even if he grew up outside Gotham. His life is so not peaceful that he died, or otherwise created a ghost- okay who's Tim kidding, he definitely died.

Died, at the same young age of fourteen as Jason, around the same month and possibly on the same day. Tim had yet to confirm the exact date without giving away what he knows, but it's too much of a coincidence already.

Seriously, are the Todds cursed or something?

...

In the end though, this revelation changed nothing.

Robin's teammates doesn't need to know. They don't even know Tim under the mask of Robin, there's negative amount of reasons in telling them about the previous Robin.

Bruce and Dick, they don't need to know either. Jason is and always will be a sore subject, better not to dig into that old wound without some really good reason. Besides, Team Phantom is very clear from the start that they don't want to be involved with JL business unless absolutely necessary, so really it's better to let what happened in Amity stay in Amity.

Tim did, briefly, considered telling Danny. It feels wrong not to. But even ignoring the mess of secret identities spanning between them... Danny didn't know, he didn't know he had a twin. Telling him just to let him know Jason is dead feels even more wrong.

Which means in the end, it's just another secret that Tim keeps.

[rockingthegraveyard]

SO SCARED HE CAN HARDLY RUN

BUT HE STILL RUNS IN TO SAVE THIS LITTLE GIRL 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[noka-exe]

different eras

[bulletsxlattes]

I'm miles away, he's on my mind I'm getting tired of crawling all the way And I've had enough, it's obvious And I'm getting tired of crawling all the way(which witch)

[ro1971]

Yo so it’s April 27 you know what that means. Happy Death Day, Jason Todd

[the-crooked-library]

here's the thing. yes hannibal is gleeful and yes will is brooding, BUT:

hannibal is a meticulous planner, a polyglot, a genius, nigh unstoppable in a fight but always opting for prep time whenever possible, the wealthy owner of a gothic-style ancestral estate; he sees himself as a manifestation of justice, is represented visually by a leathery-black animal/human creature, had a childhood defined by a family loss, maintains a secret basement, and has a flouncy, cheerful, socialite public persona

will is a nobody from nowhere - "always the new boy at school," no family, no close friends, no past where he would be remembered; he is also a genius, but his most dangerous trait as a killer is that he is chaotic, disorganized, vicious, artistic but impulsive, ruining his own carefully-laid plans on a whim; he has successfully seduced an employee of a mental hospital into killing in his name, and he is a jealous little bitch, ruled by his emotions first and foremost

they're dancing to the same tune as batjokes, just in reverse

[deadsetobsessions]

Bruce didn’t come here often. Perhaps that was terrible of him but he couldn’t bear to visit his son’s resting place. It was difficult to equate his high-spirited son, bright as the sun itself and endlessly brilliant despite the more he grew up in, to the cold and lifeless stone engraved with his name and words that did not encompass everything his son was to him.

His hands were full of flowers, Jason’s favorite books, a round rock, and his son’s favorite foods.

Bruce didn’t come here often, because it broke his heart even more when he did, but today was a day that love and grief triumphed over his need to avoid.

He walked down the winding pathway, Alfred a silent sentinel behind him. He hated it, but he understood. Today was the only day Alfred allowed himself to be emotionally closed off. He’d lost a grandson.

Bruce didn’t come here often, but his son’s birthday was a day Bruce would remember how to love and live again, just for Jason.

“I will be over here, Master Bruce.” Alfred stopped at his designated spot, where Bruce had added a bench and a draping tree to shade Alfred as he stood vigil.

The first time they’d- it was April, and the sun- after the funeral, Bruce was lost in the throes of grief and had kneeled over the freshly tilled dirt for hours. Alfred had stood there, in that same spot, in the city’s rare blazing sun until Bruce came back to himself.

Bruce had almost lost his second father that day, and what good was wealth if it could not prevent that? And so, water, shade, a bench, and a space heater was added.

Bruce knows better than anyone how stubborn Alfred can be, when it comes to matters of the heart. After all, he didn’t have to raise Bruce after Martha and Thomas died.

“Alright, Alfred.”

Bruce splits from the haggard butler with pointed looks at the water bottles he’d prepared for today for Alfred (who manages, this time, a faint but amused raise of an eyebrow) and walks towards Jason Todd’s grave.

Here where his son is buried, the grass is kept green. In April, Forget-Me-Nots bloomed and dotted the place where Bruce’s world collapsed with bright colors. In August, it is still green, but the tin engraved with the names of the deceased stood out without the flowers.

Bruce kneeled and quietly arranged the flowers before placing them in the tin. He set the platters of food down and uncovered them. The scent of chili dogs made his heart stutter, flashes of a bright smile and book references blinding Bruce with their nostalgia.

He swallowed, grief building, and placed the stone he’d brought atop the gravestone. He sat back, gripping Jason’s book with white knuckles.

Bruce didn’t turn around when clothing rustled behind him. Alfred would have verbally cut down anyone that dared to approach them today, especially here. That he didn’t do so was telling of who it would be.

“I’m still mad at you, for not telling me as soon as you knew.” Dick Grayson sat down, hand over one of Jason’s school bag pins he had carefully attached to the front of his jacket.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“He deserved better. I should have been there.” Dick whispered, placing another bundle of flowers into the tin. It fit, but barely. “I would have dropped everything to come find him. Even if it wasn’t on time, even if it wasn’t enough, I deserved to be there when he was buried. We were family.”

“I know.” Bruce repeated, no less regretful. In his grief, he had wronged his loved ones. “I’m sorry.”

Dick casted a quiet, assessing eye at him. Bruce stayed quiet.

“It’s too dreary,” Dick said. He took out paints, little statutes of robins, bright birds, and bits and bobs Bruce knew Jason would have loved had he been alive out of his pockets.

“It should be more colorful,” Dick murmured as he placed them artfully against the headstone.

They sat there, for a while. Dick glanced at… at Bruce’s hand, and settled down.

It’d been a while since they’ve spoken, but he knew what the man intentioned to do today. This will be the most Dick will have heard Bruce speak outside of his civilian obligations.

Bruce took the cue and gently opened Jason’s book. He’d bought it for Jason- the first gift- and he’d read it to Jason every night. Dick had a similar book.

“Call me Ishmael. Some years ago- never mind how long precisely- having little or no money in my purse…”

——

A boy with black hair and blue eyes wandered amongst the graveyard. They’ve been here for a while, and the man’s low rumble was soothing to listen to. The shades that hung about the graveyard settled as he read out loud from the book as his son sat quietly beside him.

As the boy, invisible and intangible, brushed his hand against the gravestone, he wondered why they were reading to an empty grave.

——

Dick had left long before Bruce did.

And when it was time to go, as stars began to climb and as the cold began to nip at his fingers, Bruce heard a quiet voice.

“Do not stand at his grave and weep,” and Bruce turned, recognizing the poem. “He is not there. He does not sleep.”

But there was no-one.

[bitchylittlevictorianchild]

Edit: I FORGOT ONE

Part 2

[rubydubydoo122]

Ghost Jason: Shit, Bruce is gonna kill himself. I gotta send him something to care about [spots stalker Tim] Bingo!

Tim: I gotta ask Dick to be Robin again

Ghost! Jason:… I was thinking you walk up to Bruce with puppy eyes, but close enough.

Dick: No.

Tim: I guess… if that didn’t work… I’ll have to be Robin

Ghost! Jason: that’s not what I meant, but there’s no way Bruce is gonna let you—

Bruce:… hrg [yes]

Ghost! Jason: NO BRUCE, YOU WERE SUPPOSED ADOPT HIM NOT MAKE HIM ROBIN!!! god, sometimes you gotta do things yourself [wakes up in coffin with only vengeance on his mind]

[mikakuna]

imagine being so insensitive that you would blame a child for their death and openly talk about how badly behaved they were right in front of their grave. oh and on said child's birthday-- the day he would've turned 18 years old. you spend your first official late child's 18th birthday calling him brash and impulsive, implying he got himself murdered, instead of mourning the fact that today is the day your dead son would've reached a major milestone in his life.