I'm on AO3 :3 as Lishalalalalala
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DC comics will be like âBruce Wayne was a playboy billionaire, the sexiest man in the room, alluringâ and then draw him like a fucking potato
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fun in the sun, wayne and kent style!
sequel to this!
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totally normal burger experience
hope yall don't mind me combining these requests :3


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so originally Jason was buried in Gotham Cemetery, which i think makes his whole âdisorientatedly breaking out of his own graveâ thing so much funnier. because like. thatâs a public graveyard. thereâs probably walkways going through it that people take to get to work or school every day. and i know a lot of people retcon that with the excuse of the loa cleaning up the broken grave so that they can keep Jason away from Bruce, but what if they just. didnât?
Gotham is a fucked up place, and the people that live there are so used to it by now. they donât bat an eye at the vigilantes, the fear gas, the clowns-, they have been desensitised to the weird and unexplainable. so i imagine with the fact that Bruce Wayneâs dead sonâs gravesite suddenly becoming the CLEAR location of a broken out corpse, with the scratch marks on the inside of a burrowed out coffin, mud and dirt bursting up in the way that could only happen if something was emerging from below, the probably muddy footsteps leading away, not to, away from, the graveâŚ
what iâm saying is the general public of Gotham are probably well fucking aware that thereâs a zombie Jason Todd walking around somewhere, and theyâve all just collectively decided to mind their own fucking business.
thereâs no new zombie-rogues, no people being eaten, and after a week or so the caretaker of the cemetery sighed and filled in the mess anyway, so nobody really thinks to mention it. of course, the Waynes are too overwhelmed by grief to ever go to Jasonâs grave, and people are too scared to bring up such a sensitive subject with them, so it gets to the point where literally everyone in Gotham knows that Jason is probably aliveâŚ. but his family.
Jason comes back to Gotham as Red Hood and he doesnât even try to have a secret identity as a civilian. nobody fucking cares. he just gets an apartment and starts walking around during the day and everyone who recognises him as Jason is just like âheyy! glad to see you back man, we were wondering where youâd popped off to!â. literally nobody gives a shit.
(Tim knows. he used to walk through that graveyard to get home from school, heâs known from the beginning. he knows that whatever Jasonâs staying away for is his own business, and to be honest he really didnât want to be the messenger for that particular shitstorm of information. politely, he will not be touching that with a ten foot pole.)
(Damian knew before he even came to Gotham. quite frankly, his opinion on his father dropped astronomically when he found out his English teacher knew of his brotherâs residence in Crime Alley and Bruce didnât. itâs more entertaining for him to just sit back and watch anyway. he too, refuses to say shit.)
Eventually the news reaches the upper side of Gotham, who all immediately assume that if Jasonâs walking around again then the Wayneâs must of course be aware of it, so they never think to bring it up then, either. but Jason Todd-Wayne is back, and thereâs always been a special fondness for that cute little street kid who nervously started getting brought along to galas and tried his absolute best to fit in and be polite, even if half the time he ended up fucking around with Dick or that Drake kid in the corner to pass the time. so if heâs back, then the elites all immediately assume that he is once again going to be a part of higher Gotham society.
so Jason Todd, secretly the Red Hood Jason Todd, hiding from his family Jason Todd, living in a shitty apartment safe house with two pieces of furniture and a lot of swords Jason Todd, starts getting invites to high-end events from all the city elites. he doesnât even know how they got his address.
but well, he was free that evening⌠and he couldnât deny that it might be a little bit funnyâŚ
his identity reveal ends up being much less explosive than originally planned, but it sure is entertaining. at least for him. Damian and Tim looked positively suicidal the whole night.
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when jason died, they buried him with the possessions that he carried on him all the time. there was a pocket knife tucked into his sock, the bracelet on his wrist from catherine that he never took off, a tangled pair of earbuds in his back pocket, and, in the top pocket of his jacket, the cellphone that bruce bought for him after he was adopted.
that cellphone stayed with jason in his grave. went with him when he dug his way out. somehow stayed on his person when he was taken by the league, and he managed to convince talia to let him keep it throughout all his training.
he doesnât know why, maybe as a grief thing or maybe just because bruce forgot and itâs not like the bill effected him in any way, but he never stopped paying jasonâs phone bill. his numberâs still active, still working after all this time. even weirder, but dick started adopting the tradition of adding his dead brotherâs phone number to each and every family group chat any of them created after ethiopia. again, jason doesnât know why. maybe it was dickâs way of carrying his memory with them; including him in family conversations even if they all thought the number was connected to a long buried phone in the pocket of a long dead boy.
the point is that jason wasnât dead any more. and all throughout his time at the league, he gets to watch the family chats. the mission statuses, the arguments, the rapid spiral every chat went through where they started off using it as a serious bat communication centre only for dick or tim to send a meme and instantly spiral into nothing but chaos that bruce would neither take part in or attempt to stop. jason spectates it all, always fingering the keypad but never actually typing out a message. he came close when there was a heated debate between steph and dick about the best donut types and he knew they were both absolutely fucking wrong, but luckily tim came in to educate them on the right choice last second and jason was saved from having to reveal himself.
the closest call was when little damian got a hold of his phone, attracted to the bright colours of the block game jason had been absently playing out of boredom while raâs droned on about whatever had pissed him off that day. heâd let the kid play, sat on his lap and eagerly jabbing at the screen, and jason had only looked away for at most a minute before heâd turned back to find the screen open on the family chat, damian having accidentally clicked on the camera button and taken a selfie of the two that heâd been about to send through. luckily, jason deleted it in time, but he became much more careful about letting the kid play with his shit after that.
this is all just a long winded explanation and backstory for and au i think would be funny where jasonâs reveal is literally just him deciding to fuck with his family by randomly dropping in through text like:
-in the chat-
bruce: status report.
dick: hungry :( but good!
steph: seconded, im fine
tim: drug bust went to plan, on way back to cave uninjured
cass: ^ same answer
babs: everything seems calm from what i can tell
jason: a little claustrophobic but the coffinâs kinda homely so ig no complaints from me
.
.
.
several people are typingâŚ
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Jason is seen as a big, tough, brooding guy but Jason definitely insults like a poet, especially when he's just messing with everyone.
Jason and Tim arguing about who broke the Batcomputer:
Tim: You did it! We all know you did.
Jason, absolutely done with it: Listen here, you whippersnapper-
Tim:
Dick:
Bruce:
Damian, who actually broke the Batcomputer, sipping on his killer chocolate milk: Such foul language.
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Considering how calculating Jason is with his comically complicated plans and many backup plans and probably practiced speeches, and how starved he is for social interaction, and how he wasn't exactly socialised properly for a chunk of his childhood and like all of his teenage years- do you ever wonder if he rehearses interactions before getting into them? If he bites his tongue and spends all that time pondering how to best convey what he actually means to say, calculates strategies to get the reaction he's looking for?
You ever wonder how it never, ever works?
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Bruce: I haven't seen any of the boys for fifteen minutes now.
*Outside a nearby window, a car without a driver inside, and only the top of Damianâs head visible in the backseat, is seen rolling down a driveway. With Dick, Jason, Tim, and Duke running after it in a panic.*
*Bruce doesn't look outside at all.*
Bruce: That probably means they're getting into trouble.
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Tim đ
âDo you hate me for not graduating?â
Jasonâs attention was focused on the warehouse across the street, so it was several seconds before his brain processed 1) that Tim was speaking, 2) that Tim was speaking to him, and 3) what Tim had just asked. His head rotated with deliberate slowness to buy himself some time. Red Robin, for his part, kept his gaze firmly on their target.
Jason watched with avid interest as a range of emotions flashed across Timâs face, unaffected by the dominoâdiscomfort, embarrassment, and unease tugged at the muscles in his cheeks and the corners of his eyes. He was getting easier to read. Jason didnât know if that was because Tim felt more at ease with him than he had after their rocky beginning or if they were simply closer.
Then again, Tim had always been easier to read, at least compared to the others. He was quiet, unhealthily so at times, and more withdrawn than anyone except for Cass, but Tim also often lacked the emotional mask that the others wore as second nature. Sometimes, when Jason felt like being maudlin about someone other than himself, he wondered if Timâs lack of shielding came from his childhood neglect. After all, if no one paid attention to you, what use was there in hiding?
Whatever the case, conversations with Tim, ironically, were usually less of a landmine-filled plot. Except for now, when Jason had no idea what the kid was talking about or why.
âWhy,â Jason asked with a measured pace equal to the turn of his head, âof all the reasons to choose from, would you pick that one?â
Jason would have bet Bruceâs money that Tim had been blushing from the start, but now the flush rising in his cheeks was visible even in the low light.
âTâRed?â he prodded.
âYou know. Because Iâm a spoiled rich kid who didnât even graduate high school, much less take the offered full ride to college, and youâŚâ
â⌠are the smart and plucky street trash who has to fight for everything heâs got?â Jason finished drily. Timâs blush dialed up considerably, to the point that Jason glanced back down at the warehouse they were staking out to make sure the glow wasnât visible from the street.
âYeah, Iâm mean no, of course not, butââ
Jasonâs eyes narrowed behind his helmet, his suspicions suddenly coalescing into clarity. âWho told you?â
âToldâŚ?â Tim began to stammer, but Jason cut him off with a glare. The glare still worked surprisingly well under the helmet. He was pretty sure it was a combination of the eyepiecesâ natural squint and the head tilt he often gave with it. Whatever the case, it was equally effective on goons and guilty little brothers.
Timâs shoulders slumped. âNightwing.â
âRat fink,â Jason muttered. âI managed almost two semesters without anyone finding out, but the dick finds out and suddenly the whole world knows.â
âI think itâs cool,â Tim offered hesitantly. âYou should go back. Get a degree. B always said youâre the smartest of all of us, anyways.â
Behind his mask, Jason blinked.
Tim was still talking. âBut I wondered, you know? If you hated me for giving up something you wanted like it was nothing to me.â He added in a low voice, almost too low for Jason to hear, âIt feels like I do that a lot, with you.â
He was serious. Tim was actually concerned about how Jason felt about his dropping out of school. Jason felt a little like Tim had stabbed a taser into his brain with that last revelation, but he did his best to reset and focus on the issue at hand.
âLook,â Jason said, âyou did that back when I still used your head for target practice, right? So yeah, maybe I was pissed when I first heard about it. Maybe I figured B had screwed up, replacing me with some dumb brat who couldnât think his way out of a soggy paper bag. But I know thatâs not how it is.âÂ
School had been a paradise for Jason, even with the bullying and sly digs from some of the other kids. Heâd loved learning, still did. Even as out of his mind as heâd been his first year or two back in Gotham, heâd been horrified and enraged when heâd heard Bruce had let his latest protege drop out of high school. Sure, Tim had easily completed his GED requirements and gone on to do great things at WE, but he was right. At the time, Jason had hated him, for all he represented and all he seemed to take for granted.
âSchoolâs my thing,â Jason said, nudging Timâs shoulder with his own. âIâm a nerd. Iâm cool with that. It doesnât have to be everyoneâs thing.â He snorted. âSure wasnât Dâs.â
Tim chuckled in agreement, likely having heard stories of Dickâs disastrous attempt at college, but then returned Jasonâs shoulder nudge. âSo, weâre good?â
âYeah,â Jason agreed, âweâre good. But if you tell anyone about my classes, Iâll shoot you.â
âItâs not like we sit around and discuss you, you prick.â
âRed.â
âYeah, yeah, youâll shoot me and throw me in the river, I know.â
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