#Arkham Knight

[theredhood-jasontodd]

Y/N: exists

Jason: You brought light into my lightless world

[llmsos]

I have no guilt about my genesis.

[finzphoenix]

Finally build up the courage to try my hand at a more shaped individuall, and I guess I'm somwhat happy with it?

He still lacks that mennace I wanted him to excude, but oh well, we're getting there :'>

[marshmallow---pillow]

//I am a tall child with no lap to crawl into and cry in/So I make a big show of wounded skin hoping someone pries in/Shame clots in my blood/I'm humiliated just by existing//

Fatima Aamer Bilal, Moony Moonless Sky

[jasonswh0rre]

Question about Jason Todd:

Does anyone else think Jason Todd is essentially a "white knight" I remember watching some YouTube video and while reading the comments I came across one that said they thought it was cute how it seemed like Jason would only be protecting specifically women and children the replies were 50/50 some saying he does fight women if she happens to be a villain others slowly coming to realization or thought Jason might be a white knight. I don't read comics tbh most of the things I see of Jason fighting is comic strips off of Pinterest or google and even then I rarely see even a hair plucked from a woman's head. In fact he seems slightly calmer and less angry with women than he does with men. If the idea that he was a white knight type of character was true I don't think I could see that being out of character based on his origin he went above and beyond for his mother then he ever did for his father even saving her when she betrayed him. In the Arkham vr it's disturbing but if you listen to Arkham Jason's screams I believe you can hear him yelling "mom".

If it is true, then that's sorta funny Jason would essentially be like a Rottweiler that's named Cupcake. I'm gonna post a fanfic too but I'm sorta dealing with writers burnout

[chiyana]

Shorter chapter, more of a turning point, with a reiteration of the 'threats of rape/non-con' tag. Nothing graphic and a flashback this time, but there is warning at the beginning and a chapter summary at the end.

This time though, Jason is here to make Timmy feel safe, and start building the foundation for a Normal and Healthy Relationship between them. :)

@marrede

[johnconn]

Arkham knight playlist? Bet.

[nefarious-616-necromancer]

[scaryscarecrows]

One minute they’re moving, the next they’ve been set upon by ninjas.

That’s the only way Curt Evans can think of to describe the sudden assault; armed men, terrifyingly agile, falling on them before anybody had any idea they were even there.

It’s over embarrassingly quickly.

No one’s dead, though they’re all bruised. Jesus Christ. He’s on his knees, badly winded and yeah, that’s a cracked rib, and all he can think right now is, what just happened? A quick glance around at his squadmates says they’re thinking the same thing.

The ninjas are wearing black and red, with stark white full-face masks and blood-red goggles. Several of them have swords–swords, what the fuck?--but all of them have guns. One of them, smaller than the others, steps forward. They tilt their head, goggles boring into Evans’ eyes, before their hand snaps out and tears his dog tags from his neck.

“Hey-!”

“Shut up,” somebody else–a man’s voice–snaps. “We didn’t ask you to talk.” Then, “We takin’ ‘em back to base, sir?”

The man holding his dog tags doesn’t answer. He just looks at Evans (or, well, that’s what it looks like he’s doing) for a long moment before his arm flies out, swinging the dog tags like a flail. They hit him in teeth (that’s a chip, ow) before the man flips over him (what the fuck?) and–hurk!

Air-air-air-air–

His vision’s just starting to go when the chain loosens from around his neck. He’s still gasping when a boot between his shoulder blades puts him flat on his face and then he’s kicked over, onto his back. A boot’s planted on his chest and a massive sniper rifle that looks leagues beyond anything he’s ever worked with levels itself at his face.

The expected death doesn’t come. After two minutes of staring into those red goggles, his assailant scoffs and steps off him, snaps his fingers and jerks his head. The man from before nods.

“Yessir. Get up, assholes, we’re goin’ for a ride.”

* * *

The ride is twenty minutes. It’s a quiet twenty minutes, but it ends when they pull up to a massive military compound. High walls ringed with razor wire, security guards, and cameras. Big gates that look like something out of Jurassic Park. And an entire army’s worth of men inside, from the looks of it; trucks, tanks, the whole thing.

What the hell?

The little man from before hops out before the car comes to a stop. Striding across the compound is a giant that looks like he could snap Godzilla in half. He stops, though, when the littler guy whistles, puts his index fingers against the side of his head, and salutes*.

“Think he and Antoine had a TC,” the giant says. “They should be done soon. Why?”

A thumb jerks back towards the jeep.

“Shiiit,” the giant says appreciatively. “He’s not gonna like that.”

Who’s not gonna like that?

The small man laughs. Not totally mute, then, and clearly not deaf. Impediment? Just an asshole?

“I don’t think it was supposed to take–there he is.”

Oh.

Oh, good God.

Evans’ first, crazy thought, is that Gotham’s Bat has gone off the rails and set this up. Then the…thing…gets closer and he can see that it’s not quite the same. No cape, for one. And the full-faced helmet. It looks more like a cyborg than anything, but it’s coming this way.

“Riley brought ya a present,” the giant calls. The cyborg stops, looks at the blond man trotting behind it, and shrugs.

“Something tells me it’s not Reese’s.”

The voice is heavily filtered, sounding more demonic than human. The smaller man–Riley (huh, he knew a Riley once)--nods and erupts in a flurry of gesticulations. The cyborg tilts its head, sun reflecting off that blue visor, and remains quiet until Riley stops moving.

“Good call,” it says, and then it’s stalking towards them. Up close, it’s big. Well-armed. The insignia on the armor is unfamiliar and the armor itself is hard and sharp, almost medieval. “Well, gentlemen. What brings you out this far?”

Nobody answers. Then, quick as a snake, the cyborg lunges and pulls Evans away from the rest of his squadmates.

“Curt Evans,” the demonic voice growls. “You’re in charge of…well, that’s interesting. Operation Pleasure Time? Thought that was a soda.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says immediately. “Who the hell are you?”

The cyborg chuckles.

“The Arkham Knight.” What the hell? Some freak escaped from Gotham? Evans has never set foot there, but one of his old squadmates had been a local. That guy was fucked up. “Don’t play coy with me–well, well, this is interesting.”

It plucks the small body camera from his vest and kicks Evans’ legs out from under him, lets him fall to the dirt in a heap.

“Drouot.”

“Yessir.”

“Tell Rogers to get into their camera frequency and run a cover-up.” It–he?--pauses. “Not that ridiculous jungle monster cryptid, something practical. Crocodiles.”

“Aw, you’re gonna break his heart, boss,” the blond says. The Arkham Knight scoffs.

“He’ll live.”

“Yeah, but he’ll be annoying about it.” 

The Knight tosses the camera over and the blond disappears. Evans swallows.

“That’s recording already,” he says, willing his voice to be steady. “It doesn’t matter what you do now, it’s been viewed.”

“Nah.” The Knight sounds incredibly entertained. “We have a scrambler. All that’s been viewed is static.”

“We’re not telling you shit.”

“I really don’t care what you’re doing out here. I just care that you keep your mouths shut, and you know what they say about dead men.”

“What the fuck–”

“Get rid of them.”

“What, you won’t even do the job yourself?” Rodreguez shouts. “Fuckin’--”

BLAM!

“There. I killed one of you.” The Knight reholsters his gun. “Happy? Now. Get rid of them. Unless…” He turns to look at Riley, who shakes his head. “Never mind. Just get rid of them. I want to see your squadron in two hours; see what you’ve learned, huh?”

*Riley actually has two ways to refer to Jason: one is the shorthand symbol for crazy (index finger spiraled near your head) followed by ASL for knight. Crazy Knight=Arkham Knight. The other is this one–Evans may not know the Family Politics here, but Riley respects, and thus salutes, very few people. So this is the more affectionate one he uses to Jason or with the Squad.

[become-jonk3r]

yes he's bald and has no lips or nose or distinguished irises or pupils or actual skin on his face. but i love him

[in-som-niyah]

ok another floating thought:

Jason Todd does not tolerate bad eating habits.

Iced coffee for breakfast? Absolutely not.

6pm and you had not a single sip of water? Forget it.

Having a single slice of toast for lunch AND dinner? Naur babes.

You will be eating 3 square meals a day will allowance for snacks and 'happy foods' as he likes to call them.

As soon as you complain about a headache, stomachache, light-headedness, fatigue he will tell you to go fucking eat something with a glass of water, not coffee.

Its even worse if you live together like i strongly believe he would wake up early just to make you a balanced breakfast before you go about your day.

GOD BUT IF UR IN UNI??? babe be ready bc he will break into your dorm to bring u food that he cooked u himself. (he's a loverboy duh)

no time to cook or order? He's gotchu

too tired? already on the way

exam season with barely any time to take a breath? already on it babe he'll spoonfeed you while you revise your textbook

and plus, how else are you supposed to grow as big and strong as him when you're only eating half a meal a day?

I WANNA MUNCH ON HIS MOOSCLES SO BAD FUCKKKKK

[lethologicaee]

arkham knight jason todd

print

[violet-catsarelife]

(The evolution trigger is ✨Trauma✨)

Edit: since there seems to be some confusion about all the AU Jasons, here's a list of where they're from.

From Left to right Red Hooded Ninja: Young Justice cartoon Red Hood: Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016), DC comics Arkham Knight: Batman: Arkham Knight video game Red Robin: Death in the Family interactive movie Father Todd: Flashpoint: The World of Flashpoint #2, DC comics

[marshmallow---pillow]

Jason: The eagles won last night

Slade, not looking up: Oh did you watch the game?

Jason *covered in blood and scratches*: What game

[source]

[jasonswh0rre]

Heal What Has Been Hurt

AK! Jason Todd x OC

Pairings/Characters:

Main Characters: Jason Todd (Arkham Knight), Amira (OC)

Setting:

Arkhamverse (Batman Arkham Games)

Warnings:

Alcohol Use

Emotional Distress

Mental Health Issues (Depictions of trauma and PTSD)

Violence and Past Abuse (Mentions of torture and scars)

Rating:

PG-13

Summary:

In the aftermath of his alliance with villains like Scarecrow and Deathstroke, Jason Todd grapples with the weight of his actions and their consequences on those he loves. At a secluded safe house, he confronts his emotional turmoil and reveals his deepest secrets to Amira. Together, they navigate a path through betrayal, hidden truths, and the harsh realities of Jason's past actions and current crises.

Author's Note:

On Thomas and Martha Wayne's grave I will post the x reader story. But in the meantime, here is an OC storyline that I wrote

"We can fix this together," Batman said. Jason thought those words to himself. Speeding on his motorcycle, he rode to a safe house on the outskirts of Gotham. He kept Amira there, guarded by two of his militia, aware of the danger but still very much dependent on Amira's presence.

"Sir?" One of his militiamen said

"Leave. You're relieved of your post," Jason replied. The two men nodded and left their station. Jason entered the safe house and ensured it looked like a natural home, keeping Amira safe and none the wiser about what was happening. 

He walked to the fridge, taking a beer bottle out. Looking at the bottle, he angrily threw it across the room. Hearing the noise, Amira left the bedroom. She watched Jason drink a beer with four empty beer bottles beside him. His hand squeezed on the bottle so tight that his knuckles turned white. He was swaying slightly, and his eyes were red.

"Jason?" Amira called out, her voice barely a whisper. He stared at her, mouth slightly agape, nose red, eyes bloodshot. The tears were like an overflowing dam had burst. Amira treaded carefully towards him. Jason rushed into Amira's arms, arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He cried profusely in her arms. Amira was taken aback, but noticing his struggle, she rubbed on his back, consoling him.

"I'm sorry I brought you into this; I'm sorry for everything," Jason cried; his breathing was erratic as he was crying.

"Jason—" Amira couldn't understand what Jason was saying. Before she could ask for clarification, he pushed her off him, grabbing another beer and downing it. Grabbing his sixth beer, Amira held his hand. She tried to grab the bottle from him, but Jason's grip was iron-shut.

Jason watched her; his eyes were glazed over. He loosened his grip, and Amira put the bottle away.

"I don't know what to do– I don't know how to feel," Jason confessed, sniffing his nose; Amira wiped the tears from his eyes, which only caused Jason to cry more as he leaned into her touch. 

"Tell me what you feel now?" Amira asked, putting her head on top of Jason's. Their foreheads touched as she placed her hand over his heart.

"Angry, confused– and sad, I feel... lost," Jason said; he put his hand on Amira's, his breaths easing in a gentle rhythm. 

"Okay, tell me what's making you feel this way," 

"I did a lot of bad things. If I tell you you're going to leave," Jason said; Amira got closer to Jason, her body pressed against him as she kissed his lips. 

"When I saw you in Venezuela,  you asked me to stay with you. It was like I had a whole world I didn't know existed back in my life; whatever it is, I'm gonna stay," Amira said

So he told her everything, his alliance with Scarecrow and Deathstroke, the real reason for the militia, the cloudburst, why Amira and Chloé were kept in this safe house, and his devotion to killing Batman. Even telling her bits and pieces of his torture caused by the Joker. Amira listened, and she listened intently; she did step away slightly from him for a moment, understandably seething from anger. Jason picked up the beer bottle and drank it as Amira paced along the living room; he attempted to follow her and tried holding Amira's hand, standing still when Amira flinched it away.

"You put me and Chloé in danger!" 

"I know,"

"You– nearly destroyed the city!"

"I... I know,"

"You—You planned it the whole time. You were planning when we were in Venezuela, and I was pregnant. I thought I was helping when you had me working in the medic; I taught them life-saving techniques!" Amira ranted. By the time she finished, her anger had receded. She was tired of the lies, but she also saw how much pain Jason had gone through himself. He started to remove his armor, baring his body.

She had only seen Jason naked a handful of times, and it still made her stomach turn to look at him; there were scars all over his body, the bruises were all around, raised against his skin like unintelligible braille, and there were stitches on his chest and stomach.

"It looks like a buckshot wound,"  Amira thought. She approached Jason, who turned his back from her, leaning against the kitchen island, holding his head, and swaying.

"I'll transfer enough funds into your account, take Chloé and get out of here," He said

"Even his back looks worse for wear,"  his spine was slightly contorted, and his back and shoulders looked tight and tense; walking behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head on his back.

"I told you– I won't leave you. No more lies, though," Amira said. Jason was silent, but he touched Amira's hand, recognizing her loyalty to him even if he didn't feel like he deserved it right now.

"Scarecrow will unmask him; he wants the world to see Bruce Wayne," he said; his voice was indifferent, with no indication of what he may have been thinking.

"You should help him," Amira added; she wrapped her arms around Jason's waist a little tighter, resting her head on his back.

Jason thought about it. Turning around in Amira's arms, he lifted her up in a bridal way and carried her to the bed, tucking her in and kissing her forehead. Jason then turned to the cradle. Chloé was sound asleep. He grazed her cheek with his finger, eliciting a small coo from the infant. 

Jason yelled at Bruce that he didn't deserve friends or people who loved him, but he was starting to think he didn't deserve that either. He fixed his red helmet and made a new symbol for himself on his uniform. Jason thought about what Amira had suggested, eyebrows furrowed and conflicted. He put his helmet on and left the safe house. 

Making his way to Arkham Asylum. 

End Notes:

Thank you for reading Heal What Has Been Hurts. As well as your likes, comments, and shares.

[frightshack]

fiddle diddle diddle