#Jason Todd Has PTSD

[melloollem]

Jason Todd who, after being resurrected, could no longer remember the good times with Bruce.

He only knows that he had good times, but he can't remember any of them.

Jason who wants those moments and suffers for them, he feels he has a void left by those memories inside him.

When he comes back to life, he looks for them in Bruce, but can't find them and wonders if there really was anything good there.

Jason Todd who was decoded by Crack baby - Mitski.

[ao3statistics]

Here you go! The charts resulting from the poll!

Date of creation: 05.01.2024

The second chart is the more detailed version including more tags.

I excluded the meta tag "Hurt Jason Todd" (more than 2000 tags) because its subtags are already on the chart.

I assume no guarantee or liability for the completeness, correctness and accuracy of this chart despite my best efforts.

Includes fanfictions in all languages available on Ao3, NOT English only.

More charts will follow. :)

Want to have a chart for different pairings, headcanons etc. in your favourite fandom? Send me an ask!

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn’t die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 16/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake, Donna Troy

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Seventeen: The Campaign: Malatra Pt. 1

Tim slept in his bed one last time while I packed our things. My phone rang, and I answered to keep from waking Tim up. “Hello?” I whispered. 

“Jason, I heard about your friend’s mother—.”

“You don’t have to say anything… Um, Barbara, can I ask you for a favor?” I interrupted. 

“I don’t know. It depends… Is it illegal?” Barbara asked. 

“No. It’s—. I need you to help me get back in fighting shape. I know Bruce won’t change his mind because I can throw a couple of solid punches, but I’ve gotta do this for myself. I need to know I didn’t let the accident beat me,” I explained. I told her as much of the truth as I could. 

“Jason… Wednesday through Friday after school. No excuses,” Barbara replied. I grinned. 

“I’ll be there. I promise,” I whispered, “Thank you. Thank you, Barbara. You’re the best.” Barbara was a tough person to move. She wasn’t emotionally driven or faint of heart. Barbara was sharp and efficient. Practical and poised. She was everything I needed in a teacher. 

“ Yeah, yeah, yeah. See how you feel about me after our first training session. Bye, Jason… And good on you for getting back up. I thought about what I said to you the last time we talked. I was wrong to tell you that you were being childish. If taking this time away from home was good for your mental health, who am I to tell you—?”

“Barbara, I am a kid. I never said I wasn’t. I was pissed off and closed in, and I reacted. I was in a dark place, and I’d be lying if I said I wanted to go home now… I know it’s what I have to do. I’m gonna be mature about it, for Tim’s sake,” I replied, “I’ve gotta finish packing… But, um—. Thank you, Barbara.” 

“Don’t thank me yet, Boy Wonder. See you Wednesday,” Barbara teased. She hung up, and I shook Tim awake. 

He pushed my face away and laughed. “ Uggghhh. Jason, what are you doing?” Tim asked. 

“She’s gonna train me. Wednesday through Friday, so we’ll condition Saturday through Monday,” I replied. Tim grinned. 

“And on Tuesday ?” Tim half-joked. 

“Warlocks and Warriors,” I replied, “And—. Oh, Ives wants to come over tonight. I gave him Bruce’s address and said he could stay the night.” 

“Ives wanted to hang out? Does he—?” 

I nodded. “Ives knows, but I asked him not to mention it… Unless…” I trailed off. Tim shook his head. “Then, he won’t…” I tied labels to Tim’s chargers and tucked them into his suitcase. 

*

We went to the manor at sunset because I knew Bruce wouldn’t be there. Alfred seemed happy to see us again. Ives showed up an hour after we got there, and Alfred served dinner. “Hey, guys… Do you wanna do another campaign here this weekend?” I asked. 

Tim’s eyes widened. “You want to?” Tim questioned. I nodded. 

“That’d be sick,” Ives replied.  

“Cool. Tell the guys Tuesday we’ll hang out here,” I replied. Ives glanced at Tim and looked at his plate when he saw me looking. Tim was oblivious to everything going on in his life because of everything. 

“Jason should DM this one,” Tim suggested. I choked. “Come on. You can do it. I see how deep you get into character. And you’re the only person willing to indulge Hudson. Besides, I think the guys are still mad at me for what happened in Ravenloft.” 

“That was messed up. I can’t believe you killed Ives first and swapped him out with a Doppelganger. That was sick. And Ives… I’m shocked you let him go through with that,” I replied. 

Tim smiled. I reached for my bed to pull myself up, but I felt a shockwave shoot down my back into my legs, and I let go of the mattress. “Jason?” Tim asked. 

“I’m okay… But like—. Are you guys sure you want me to DM?” I questioned. 

“Yeah, definitely,” Ives replied, “You’ve gotta try it at least once. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again, but you should give it a chance. You might be good.” 

*

"In the living forest lands of Malatra, all seems quiet. Suspiciously so. A warm breeze blows, rustling through the canopies overhead. Topiaries of smiling children surround a small fire. It is the only possible sign of life for several miles.  A song breaks through the near-silent forest. It starts low and guttural, like a collective groan, and then the ethereal choral collections of synchronized sobs. It is a song of mourning. A once-distant sound, now building as if it is approaching. The forest's dirt walkways slowly disappear under shrubs and bushes, and it seems like a trick to the eye at first, but no. You see it now. The bushes have feet where roots should be, and finally, a male voice breaks through the grieving chorus," I cleared my throat. "State your business," I bellowed. "He steps forward. A bamboo elf. His hair is a warm brown with the same red undertones of autumn leaves. He keeps his hair in wide and intricate waves and curls. His skin is an olivine green, and his eyes dark brown and ancient, study you. You all recognize this bamboo elf immediately, but before we get into that… you should introduce yourselves." A big, goofy grin spread across Tim's face. Silence fell over my room as I waited for someone to speak.

"You fucking killed it," Hudson mumbled in shock. I covered my smile. "Clay Everlake, earth genasi monk here. I'm stone grey, with bright green hair made of leaves, with the front pulled into a warrior's bun—."

"Man bun penalty!" everyone shouted.

"Is not! Anyway ... It's a warrior's bun, and the rest of my hair hangs leafy down my shoulders. I'm fairly young, rough and tumble, and trouble seems to follow me wherever I go," Hudson answered.

I gestured to Ives. "Eldrid Deepwood, here. I'm a firbolg druid... I uh—. I have bluish-green skin and dark eyes. My hair is whiteish-grey, luscious, and thick, almost mane-like. My ears are floppy... And uh—. And despite my advanced age, I'm a timid sort of fella," Ives stammered in an Irish accent.

I nodded and pointed to Hudman. "Fettar Keephorn. Dwarven rogue, dark beard, dark brown eyes.  My loyalties lie with Clay Everlake... Unfortunately," Hudman muttered in a dry voice. We all laughed. "I'm not much for words."

And Tim. I looked forward to Tim's character because we'd been pretty hush-hush about our plans all week, which meant we had nothing to discuss outside of training. "Posy Moonfall, gnome cleric here. I've got blond shoulder-length hair and grey eyes hidden behind foggy glasses. Well, they're usually quite—. I'm not used to being in the presence of a man of Mr. Deepwood's stature. I'm clumsy, but my intuitive nature makes up for my shortcomings... At least, I think—. Oh gosh. Am I rambling?" Tim replied in a woman's voice. He was surprisingly good at it. I almost forgot my place.

I cleared my throat before continuing. "Clay Everlake, your connection to this bamboo elf is deeply personal. Isn't it?" I asked, nodding at him. I liked Hudson. He always made me laugh and was my favorite of Tim's friends. He also tried to make me feel better about my scars by showing me the dent in his forehead. It wasn't the same, but he genuinely thought it was.

"He raised me. When my family was slaughtered on the outskirts of Malatra, he took me in and raised me. He's a father to me," Hudson answered. Hudson and I locked eyes, and I smiled down at my notes. "I didn't expect to see him under such grim circumstances."

"And Fettar?" I questioned.

"The elf and I… used to date,” Hudman replied. We all laughed.

“Fettar and Theren Everlake dated? You guys were—.” 

“A couple. Yep,” Hudman doubled down.

[theforgottendaydreamer]

Had 15 spare minutes to finally polish this- but I'm also tired as well so who knows if I really fixed all the typos and whatnot. Anyway, enjoy!

[freedvmrouge]

PACK.

fandom: dc comics.

character(s): jason todd.

word count: 334.

tags & warnings: pov jason todd, jason todd has ptsd, flashbacks, panic attack.

summary: jason smells smoke from a pack of cigs for the first time post-resurrection.

masterlist.

Somehow, hitting the streets of Crime Alley without his helmet makes him feel uneasy. There's a level of vulnerability there that hits uncomfortably in his abdomen. He thinks that, even as Robin, this never happened. Even as a kid who just lost the only semblance of home he'd ever known, he was more comfortable with his face out.

Jason swallows the lump in his throat.

Crime Alley isn't all that different now, three years later. He knows what it's like at night. He knows it quite intimately at this point. Perhaps the players have changed somewhat, shifted to the sons and daughters, or mutant rats that grew from Gotham's cesspools. But it hasn't actually changed, not where it counts.

As he walks through the uncanny valley of familiar sights and sounds, he soon finds himself stopping. It takes him a moment to realize why he does. But when he turns his head just a few degrees to the left and forces himself to breathe in, he's struck.

Smoke.

Not just any smoke either. Cigarette smoke from a pack of Marlboro Red. The very brand he used to be addicted to. It threatens to swallow him whole.

The high-pitched sounds of Joker's laugh reverberate in the back of his head. Each hit to his small body could've been his last, and the adrenaline picks up and up and up. He cannot stand it. He cannot find the words to whisper.

The smoker breathes out and the smoke hits his nose again, as fresh as it most ardently is not.

Jason cannot move his legs, and he cannot feel his feet. He knows they are broken. He knows they will likely never heal. He knows, quite intrinsically, that he will never heal.

"What're ya lookin' at, punk?" The smoker spits at him and blows more smoke on his face.

A hell of a thing, that. The only thing he and his mother have in common isn't just their murderer. It was their favorite brand of cigarettes. 

[mr-something-0r-another]

I wrote a poem! It's the beginning of my oneshot:

Warning: this is a traumatic flashback in poem form

Darkness.

The first thing I see, 

Or rather don't see, 

Is darkness. 

I can feel, 

I can hear, 

Smell, 

And taste, 

But not see.

I hear voices,

All around me, 

Chaos is what I hear, 

Yet can not make out.

I taste something metallic, 

It feels as if it's filling my lungs. 

Crushing me. 

I feel cold, 

And surrounded.

Surrounded, 

Though not by people.

Flooding my senses, 

Flooding myself.

It feels like the Lazarus pits.

Like being on that, oh so familiar, brink.

Between life and death.

I can not tell what direction is what.

But somewhere, 

I finally see. 

Light.

Light is streaming towards me. 

I see a figure in the light, 

Reaching for me,

Swimming towards me.

Is it THE light?

There wasn't a figure last time,

But it could be.

Closer,

And closer.

The figure gets closer,

And closer still.

No.

No.

Not again.

Pain shoots through me.

Bright,

Blinding light.

A loud sound,

An explosion,

Flooding my senses.

I feel fire blazing on my skin.

I feel cold.

A chill in the air,

On the hot blood.

I feel chains, 

Wrapping around me, 

Digging into my skin.

I struggle against them, 

To no avail.

It feels like the chains are adapting to my every move.

Blood running down my face, my arms, my legs, 

Blood.

I'm covered in blood.

I'm Robin again.

I'm dying again.

That maniacal laughter,

Echoing in my skull.

Louder.

Getting louder.

I'm shaking.

I'm breaking.

I'm held to the chair,

Bracing for another hit,

Another sharp pain to course through my body.

The metal,

Stained with my blood,

Forcing itself to dig underneath my skin.

The pain is too much,

The pain,

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

A voice.

A voice?

Not patronizing,

Not laughing.

I'm delusional again,

I'm that 15 year old,

Believing someone will save me.

Pain.

I writhe, 

And the chains hold me back.

Pain.

Pain.

Did I save them?

[morgansunflower]

I'm Just Trying To Breathe

Jason Todd X Wife! Reader

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language and angst

Words:1234

Jason has a panic attack. Batman comes to his son's rescue while his son desperately wants to be with his wife.

Based off of Batman:Wayne Family Adventures!

Jason's P. O. V

I can't. I have to get away. I step through the alleyway. I need to get somewhere safe. I need my wife. I need Y/N. My breath became rapid. No. No! No! Not him. I don't want to go back there, I don't want to think about him. Please don't make me remember him. I loose my breath as I get to my motorcycle. Fuck, I can't drive. I start to shake. I helplessly sit on the ground leaning against the motorcycle. I crouch up holding my wrist tightly. It's.. It's too much. I feel so scared. I hear his, laugh. The crowbar sliding across the concrete. I could never forget that sound. I can't do this. I can't go back. I feel my chest is tight. My hands are pins and needles. I see with him with his crowbar swinging to me. I jolt back seeing someone by me. I try to calm down. I don't want anyone to see me like this. See me so.. Broken.

"Jason look at me" I look at him still defensive with my arms.. It's not real.. I'm safe.. I don't feel safe "easy champ it's OK" he kneeled beside me "it's OK son. Let's take this off"

He takes my helmet off I couldn't look at him. This is too much. I can't do this. I can't go back.

"please look at me" he pleaded

"I-I can't... I can't" I look at Bruce feeling defeated.

"it's going to be OK, you're going to be OK" Bruce encourages me

Y/N's P. O. V

I stir in my sleep hearing my phone. I look Bruce! I quickly answered knowing at this hour it can't be good. Please be OK. Please be OK. Please be OK.

"Bruce? Is Jason OK? Is everyone OK?" my heart instantly beating fast as I am fully awake now.

-"Jason had a panic attack, he's stable and asleep now"

"I'm coming!" I said yawning moving my covers to get out of bed.

-"Y/N you have a 13th month old daughter and a seven year old son. You all need a good night's rest and first thing in the morning you should come here"

"o-OK" my heart is breaking I can't be there for him.

-"he's OK Y/N. I'm looking at him right now"

"I know.. Goodnight Bruce"

-"goodnight Y/N"

Jason's P. O. V

... I feel my head throbbing. What happened? I reach my hand to hold my wife but feel nothing. I open my eyes feeling whole body is heavy. I feel a thick comfortable blanket on me. I'm in my old room? What the hell am I doing here? I groan feeling my head pounding. I look seeing Bruce standing by me. Shit.. Now I remember what happened.

"you're ok son" he told me, touching my shoulder "you had a panic attack earlier this night... Are you feeling OK?"

"... I don't know.. Is, Y/N here?" I'm so tired.

"it was 2 a:M when I called her and I told her to stay home until later this morning" he informed me.

"good.. " I sigh defeated

"get some sleep allow your body to rest and I know you will be OK, by the morning"

".. I can't keep going through this.." I just want my wife.

"I know, but you're safe.. That's what matters" he said kissing my head.

I still forget he cares about me sometimes. It's around 5 a:m when I get out of the bed and begin walking slowly through the Manor. I feel so fragile. I'll close my eyes and be back there. I'd been fine for a few months. Then just one sound sent me back. I sit in the dining room upon Alfred's request. I look at my phone. Y/N had texted me.

(Y/N) ~goodnight babe see you when you get home~

(Y/N)~I heard you had a bad night I'll be there with the kids as soon as I can🥺🥺🤗🤗🤗🤗❤️❤️❤️❤️~

I texted back that, I love her. I inhale deeply placing my open palm on my head feeling, exhausted. She couldn't get here soon enough.

Y/N's P. O. V

I drive to the Manor with my children in the back seats. I pull up seeing my older brother Grayson. He smiled waving to me. I waved back parking the car and cutting off the engine.

"uncle Grayson!" Tyler exclaimed jumping out the car to hug his uncle.

Grayson picked him up off the ground and hugged his little nephew.

"hey lil' buddy! I've missed you kiddo" Grayson said rubbing his back.

I open my car door Grayson gave me a reassuring smile.

"I missed you too uncle Gray.. Is my dad OK?" he asked

"he's doing OK pal. He's just inside waiting on you! But first let's you and I eat some cookies before they disappear!" Grayson suggested.

"yes!!" Tyler exclaimed.

I step to get my baby out of the car seat. Grayson walked to me and places his hand on my shoulder.

"he's inside the living room right now. I can get little D/N" he offered.

"thanks" I replied heading straight for the door.

I went inside and walked upstairs to the family room. I look seeing my husband. He eyes were tired from lack of sleep and his drained expression breaks, my heart. He was depressed from having to relive his trauma. He looks at me and smiled softly in genuine relief. I walk to him sitting beside him. I pull Jason into a heartfelt hug, close to me. I lean back to kiss him deeply. He parts laying his head in the crook of my neck. I put my hand under the blanket, and under his shirt, rubbing his back. I hear his breathing begins to calm down in my touch. He takes a deep breath forcing his emotions to calm down.

"you don't have to talk about it. I only want to be here for you"

"can you let me lay with you babe?" he asked resting his forehead on my own, taking a deep breath.

I answered as I lay back onto the pillow that was rested on the arm of the couch. I pull him to me letting him lay on my chest. Neither of us got any sleep last night.

Bruce's P. O. V

I held my little granddaughter walking through the hallway. She had Jason's hair with a small faint white streak. She rested her head on my shoulder. She wore her Batman themed outfit. She was precious. I remember thinking I would never get the chance to hold her. When Jason was taken away from me I thought he missed so much in life. He'd never be with Y/N and they would never have the life I wanted for them. He still lives with his trauma but he's coping better than I ever could've hoped for. I feel proud. Y/N saved him. I step into the family room. I see both of them asleep together. I softly smile. I use one hand to adjust the blanket to lay more properly on them. D/N begins to softly coo seeing her parents.

"shh their sleeping" I coo to her "let's go sneak past grandpa Alfie to the kitchen and sneak into some cookies" I whisper "that sound like a plan?"

Requested taglist @too-strong-to-lose

[psychologeek]

Love the title, not so sure about the summary.

(yes, I do think that I'm funny, thanks.)

Guess what ship is it?

[ghostiiiee]

I have this HC that Jason todd has three cats that basically act as emotional support animals / help hik with panic attacks and PTSD flash backs.

Their names are William Shakespurr, Meowy Shelly and Jane Pawston.

Shakespurr is this massive maincoone. A bug ol' chonker. Likes sitting on Jason if he is horizontal in any way. Back, chest, lap. He doesn't care. He purrs like a roaring engine and snores louder than a human.

Ms. Shelly is the shyest of the bunch and hides when anyone but Jason is home. Even from Damien. (He's very offened) She's a Russian blue. Absolute princess. She's the alarm, she must be fed On Time or Else. Can and will screech. Has knocked Tim's coffee mug over.

Jane likes to be tall. She likes hoping on Jason's shoulders and acting like a scarf. She's a tortoise shell. The most social of all of the cats, who ever is tallest gets to be her Perch. Be cautious of her sleeping in the same room bc she has tried sleeping on people's faces.

They all can tell when Jason's having a Bad Day and help him with cuddles and purrs. Even then if they aren't being held, they follow him around the house like a little train.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Tim stans who hate Jason are hella annoying in most cases but Jason stans who hate Tim are actually fucking demonic.They REALLY think Jason should get off scotfree for all the gross shit he's pulled(Hi Mia,it's good to see you sweetheart)because of the classism and ableism in his writing as if being poor and mentally ill has ever stopped irl cishet white dudes from being bad to other minorities but bash Tim for every little thing and treat him like he's a grown man who's tormenting everybody instead of just a dumbass traumatized teenage boy with bad coping mechanisms who isn't taught good ones by anybody and it's worth noting JASON was the one of the adult's who treated him badly so you guys are literally victim blaming him over getting brutalized by someone he's never met in his life but has a petty parasocial vendetta against him because something something 'his dead dad was rich!!!' and i know for a fact if Tim was jacked and aggressive y'all would be falling over him like you do Jason because you don't know what a guy is.Tim Drake antis DNI or i'm killing you with my eldest sibling powers(and a gun i stole from y'all's lil Jaybird)

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

Halloween prompts no 29

This one might hurt you btw

Project Bird was an attempt to create a weapon by generically engineering a child with the DNA of all three Robins in hopes he would have the best qualities of each of them.

Unfortunately the only subject they were able to produce was physically unstable due to the over-abundance of DNA and repeated tampering of his genetic code. The project was deemed a failure and all information and proof of it was to be terminated, including the child.

One guard offered to put the kid down himself but actually helped the kid fake his death. However once they were alone and outside for the first time in the childs life the kid bolted.

He lived on the streets for a few weeks, acting as the bane of candy stores and burger shops until someone nearly caught him and he fled the city. He snuck onto a greyhound bus by holding on the the end of a woman's coat while she was boarding, making the bus driver think he was hers.

Next thing he knew he was in a new city and he started all over again. This process repeated for a few months until he became interested in some weirdos in colorful outfits yelling about ghosts. He would have ignored them if not for the shiny weapons they were carrying about. Plus they seamed powerful...so of course he needed to steal them! That way he'd be able to protect himself better!

Long story short there was a portal and he left that place with the weapons, the disassembled parts to aforementioned portal, and with cool new superpowers. Yeah, he lost part of his life(?) but in his mind it was so worth it. He sets the portal up in Gotham because that place is strange enough that if something ghostly happened no one would bat an eye right? Plus his dads were here and he really wanted to meet them, even if they didn't know he was thier son.

Christmas eventually came but he wasn't cold. Not since he got used to his ice powers. He thought for a while there that he was going to go full Elsa but no, he just needed to let it out, not let it go. His own little batcave became nice and cozy. Just him. No crazy scientists, no cruel guards to mock and flick cigarette butts at him, no tubes or wires. Just the cold darkness he had always associated with safety.

Thats why the lights bothered him so much. In the labs, red and orange lights meant they were prepping the experiment rooms and that meant he was going to be in a lot of pain soon. It was no wonder he hated "Christmas lights". He also couldn't stand the smell of the pine trees people were dragging in, it reminded him of the cleaning agent they used on his cage and how it burned his skin if he touched it when it before it dried.

As much as he loved the safely of his newly dubbed "birdcage" he needed to go out and hunt for food. He Skulked through alleyways and picked pockets like a pro, the powers were so useful, even at the cost of him having to eat more. He made sure to memorize the patrol patterns of the bats and birds, which was why he was so surprised when Red Hood jumped down to him in the rich side of town while he was looking through the small army of wallets.

"I'm assuming those aren't yours."

The former experiment hissed at him, like actually hissed as he covered the goods with his body like an animal, "They are now! Go away!"

There was an embarrassingly short scuffle in which the kid lost. He didn't have the greatest control of his powers not that he would let Hood see him use them anyway, but he made sure to put dents in the mans leather jacket with his little teeth so he didn't win completely unscathed. Red Hood just seemed amused by this though and carried the kid curled up under his arm like a sack of potatoes.

Phantom (the name he chose for himself) really hoped they weren't heading for the police station. He kinda guessed those guys who made him never looked for him, but he couldn't help but to be paranoid. To avoid being taken to jail, and possibly killed, he asked the question that had been burning a hole in his head the past few weeks, "Were you a Robin?"

The way the man stiffened but didn't answer, but fortunately it became his means to escape.

Once he was back at the birdcage he began to review all his facts, he was 75% sure Nightwing was a one of his dads, 100% sure Red Robin was one and about 60% sure with Red Hood. He liked to analyze things, it calmed him down and helped him think he was more in control than he actually was. They never told him anything when he was in the labs. He loved learning new things and making friends and memories. His thought always circled back to his dads. Were they like him? Did they like learning and analyzing and talking to people? Would they want him if they knew about him?

Would they take him to a museum or teach him how to use a cell phone? Would he have to be a Robin? He didn't want to. It sounded scary and they had to fight a lot. He never admitted it out loud but he felt ashamed to be so afraid of combat seeing as that was his main purpose in life. Plus there was a new Robin who was very good at his job. Would he have to fight the new guy like a gang initiation? He hoped not, that sword reminded him too much of the scalpels. Never again.

.

.

.

His opinion changed a few months later. His body, the human half, was beginning to "degrade" whatever that meant. The clock ghost who gave him cookies didn't tell him what that really meant. Only that Phantom was dying. Phantom didn't want to die, he had only just begun to live! It hurt everywhere and it just wouldn't stop.

He made the decision to go to his dads. All he could tell them was that it hurt. It hurt so much he was crying. He never cried. Everything after that was spotty, like he was falling asleep and waking up over and over again but without ever leaving his dreams.

When he woke up again it was Spring and it didn't hurt anymore, but new challenges came soon after. His dads knew about him now and somehow knew about Project Bird too. None of them seemed happy, only sad and angry.

Were they angry he existed? Sad they had to deal with him? That must be it. Everytime he talks about the labs they look angry and he bolts off to hide under or behind something. Usually furniture.

Everytime he flinches from raised voices or sharp objects they look sad. Many times the Robin, Damian, would raise his katana almost as if suggesting something but Nightwing, Dick, would tell him no. Red Hood would argue about how they should "avenge thier son" or something. But Phantom was still alive? What was there to avenge?

One night his Grandpa was reading the newspaper while his Great Grandpa did something in the kitchen. Phantom sat there on the sofa staring at his reflection in the TV screen. He knew how to turn it on and stuff but he didn't understand how he was supposed to use it. Was he just supposed to...watch? And listen? Without interacting at all?

He only vaguely listened to two of his dads from where they were sitting in the nearby chairs bickering about what his name should be. He thought Phantom was a perfectly fine name for both his ghost and human halfs but apparently he was wrong.

His final dad, Tim came up behind him with a glass of water and asked, "What are you doing?"

Danny looked up from his own reflection towards his last dads and something clicked, "Oh, I have your eyes."

An wierd look his didn't understand crossed his fathers face and the sound of shattering glass sent him bolting up the stairs to safety. He hid under a guest rooms bed clutching some of the star shaped knives he had stolen from his uncle, because if Damian used them then they must be good.

Phantom never blamed Tim for his accidents. He was taking it way better than Dick, who was trying to be a brother instead of a father and tried to shove the father role onto Grandpa.

Jayson was the best of the three and was always willing to spend time with him. He was even teaching him how to read! He got him these cool light up shoes! He had never had shoes before! Dad even taught him how to color and was showing him how to aim a nerf gun and throw footballs and all sorts of stuff.

Tim was close behind showing him how to organize his thoughts and giving him life advise and answering all his questions. He even gave Phantom an old Wayne tech tablet of his to play on so long as he didn't mess with any of the settings.

Dick never liked being called Dad, or more specifically "one of" his dads. He overheard him talking on the phone with someone and appearently it wasn't that Phantom was his clone son that bothered him, it was the fact that he was a baby made between him and his brothers and it freaked him out. He knew he wasn't being fair and mentioned someone named Connor and how disappointed he would be if he knew.

Phantom just wishes he knew what to do to make everything better. But what can a six year old reasonably do in this situation?

[theheirtothebat]

one of my favorite hc is that whenever jason has control of the aux in the batmobile and he's feeling a lil mischievous, he'll play songs with very specific lyrics just to emotionally torment bruce. one of these songs is definitely should've been me by mitski.

[spite-and-waffles]

Talia "aggressively groomed" Jason – did you actually read Lost Days or are you trying to find a convenient scapegoat for his choices? Jason can't be held accountable because "Pit Rage", but the woman who was killed and dunked in the Pit one hundred times until her mind broke enough to brainwash is 100% culpable for every misogynistic plot point hung around her neck. You can find a way to rationalize and ignore Jason's indiscriminate killing at Nicieza and Morrison and even fucking Winnick's hands as OOC, but Talia acting out of character cements her as a groomer and abuser.

It's amazing how people bend backwards to whitewash their little uwu white boy because the narrative is so meeeean to him, but have no problem throwing the woman of colour subjected to every kind of racism and misogyny in the trash.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

In The Soup

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam

Summary: Jason Lives AU where he and Superboy become friends, despite Bruce's disapproval of Superboy. (ft. Jason's service dog, Gromit)

Chapters: 9/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Conner Kent, Roxy Leech, Rex Leech

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Conner Kent is Superboy, Good Friend Jason Todd, Protective Jason Todd, Overprotective Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Disabled Characters, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along, Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Developing Friendships, Sneaking Around, Disguise, Fluff and Humor, Secret Messages, Hiding in Plain Sight

Chapter Nine: Pho

Jason let his fingers dance through the mess of curls on his lap. Conner’s weight wasn’t suffocating like most things were. Conner woke up and lay in place. “Hey,” Jason whispered, “Hey…"

“Are you okay?” Conner murmured, almost purring at the sensation of fingers in his hair.

Jason made a soft noise. “My head hurts, but that’s normal. My dad’s gonna be pissed that I trashed my chair… But then again, he might not find out if I can replace it before he gets home,” Jason mumbled. “Oh crap, I’m—. Sorry, the pain medication always makes me weird. Why am I touching you?” Jason removed his hand from Conner’s hair as his face went red-hot.

Conner didn’t budge. “You don’t have to stop… It was nice,” Conner mumbled. Jason hesitated before returning to Conner’s hair. “Should you call your dad?”

“No… I don’t want Bruce to be worried. No use in both of us being worried about each other,” Jason answered without thinking.

“He’s your dad, though,” Conner whispered. Jason nodded.

“I know, but—. I don’t like to make him worry if it isn’t serious. I’ll heal… Probably before he gets home. He doesn’t have to know,” Jason half-pleaded. A knock on the door startled them both.

“Jason, can we come in?” Barbara asked. Conner sat up, and Jason told Barbara to enter. Gromit rushed to Jason’s side, and Jason giggled.

“Gromit. Hey buddy. Did you eat?” Jason asked as he leaned forward to receive an affectionate kiss on the cheek from Gromit. “Hi, sweet boy. I missed you too.”

“Jason, your left wrist is only sprained,” Barbara announced.

“I figured. You didn’t tell Bruce, did you?” Jason asked.

“No, but this is why I talked to you about the other thing yesterday—.”

“And I said okay,” Jason interrupted.

Jason reached out with his uninjured arm, and Barbara squeezed his hand. “I’m gonna sign you out. Get dressed, and I’ll wait for you. I’ll take both of you kids home,” Barbara whispered, “I brought you a change of clothes.” Barbara gave Jason a bag.

Jason removed the hospital gown and pulled his shirt out of the bag. Jason fastened the magnetic buttons with his uninjured hand. Conner sat with his face hidden in his arms. Jason figured it was out of respect for him while he got dressed. Jason pushed the blankets aside and finished getting dressed. “Conner, I’m done getting dressed. You can look now,” I replied.

“Okay… Sorry, I don’t—. You didn’t ask me to leave,” Conner stammered.

“I didn’t wanna be alone,” Jason explained. Gromit whined. “No offense, Gromit. I love you, but sometimes a guy needs a human friend to talk to.” Jason scratched under Gromit’s chin.

Jason put a foot down and shifted his weight. Gromit took his place at Jason’s side. Jason winced and clutched his ribs on one side. “Jason—.”

“I’m fine. I mean—. It could’ve been worse if you weren’t there,” Jason interrupted. He stood, wavering before grabbing the support handle attached to Gromit’s harness. Conner stood up, making sure Jason was okay. “It’s the medication… That’s all. I’m just dizzy.” Jason shut his eyes, breathing through his nose. “You can never get used to how the hospitals dope you up. Hungry? We could stop and get some pho on the way home.” Jason laughed.

“You still wanna hang out with me?” Conner asked.

“Yeah… Do you?” Jason questioned.

“Chicken or beef?” Conner smiled. Jason chuckled.

“Beef, definitely,” Jason chuckled. Conner held the door and followed him.

“Did you guys eat dinner last night?” Barbara asked as she led them to the car.

“Nope,” Jason replied before groaning. “My meds—.”

“Got you covered. Also, I have you covered on the chair too… But you owe Gromit a movie. He didn’t get to finish The Curse of the Were-Rabbit,” Barbara interrupted.

“Gromit, that’s our movie,” Jason whined. Gromit kissed his cheek. “Oh, flattery will get you everywhere. I forgive you, sweet boy.” Conner chuckled.

“What do you guys wanna eat? We can eat anything as long as I don’t have to cook,” Barbara replied.

Jason lay back and shut his eyes. Conner answered Barbara’s question, and she took them to the restaurant. Jason leaned forward, breathing heavily, and Gromit lay over his lap to support him. “Is he asleep?” Barbara asked.

“Mhm,” Conner answered.

*

Jason slept most of the afternoon, waking to eat or tell Conner he felt fine. He lied. Gromit curled up beside him, keeping watch. “Gromit would tell us if something was wrong with him,” Barbara whispered. Conner nodded. “Are you alright?”

“I’m practically invulnerable—.”

“Emotionally, Conner. What’s going on up there?” Barbara asked.

Conner shrugged. “Don’t know… I guess it doesn’t matter because he’s okay now,” Conner replied.

“It matters,” Barbara interrupted.

Gromit tugged at Conner’s pants leg, and Conner followed him to the bedroom. Jason gasped for air, kicking and clawing at nothing. Conner listened to Jason’s heart and lungs and didn’t hear a disturbance, so he sat the sleeping boy up, allowing Jason to rest on his shoulder. Conner rubbed his back, gently humming so Jason could feel the vibration. He continued until Jason went limp in his arms, and he gently laid Jason back on his pillow. “It’s okay, Gromit,” Conner whispered. Jason curled into a ball, and Gromit took his place on the bed. Conner stayed behind, watching Jason until he fell asleep as well. Jason woke up, confused by Conner’s presence but not alarmed. He grabbed the back of Conner’s sweatshirt and pulled him away from the bed’s edge, wrapping his injured arm around his chest because he wasn’t strong enough to do it on his own. Gromit helped, and Conner rolled onto his back. Jason hesitated before letting go of Conner’s torso and scratched behind Gromit’s ears.

“I’m not lonely, Gromit,” Jason mumbled. Gromit’s ears perked up. “Oh, don’t do that. Whatever happened, you could’ve handled—.”

Conner sharply inhaled and stretched out. “Jason, I’m—.”

“Conner, it’s late. You can apologize all you want to, but—. I’m tired, and it’s cold,” Jason mumbled as he rolled toward the wall and let Conner climb under the blankets. Jason was ice cold next to him.

“Jason… Do you remember your nightmare?”Conner asked. Jason sighed. “I’m sorry if that was personal—.”

“I have nightmares about my claustrophobia,” Jason mumbled, “Always different scenarios… What did you do when you came in?”

“I sat you up and let you lay on me until your breathing slowed down,” Conner answered. Jason made a soft noise of acceptance and shut his eyes. Conner yawned and fell asleep shortly after Jason curled into him. Gromit lay on Jason’s other side, offering enough space for Jason to roll over when he needed to. That night, everyone slept peacefully.

[jasontoddssuper]

Tumblr's rec system is beyond BEYOOOND broken.Not only have i never posted a single one of these ships but i've made several anti posts for 3/4 of them.What The Actual Fuck

[jasonbabygirltodd]

jason todd can't listen to shows with laugh tracks. 

it was something about the laughter, the artificial, forced feeling of it when it started without warning. the suddenness of it makes jason tense, his eyes frozen on the screen to watch, to make sure that’s all it is. the disembodied sound of laughter.

not that it entirely makes him feel better when it is, though. he hears disembodied laughter all the time in his nightmares, after all. 

the sound of laughter never bothered him in his first years after coming back. when he thinks about it, it’s because there was no laughter in any part of his life for so many years, not until he returned to gotham. even then, it took a while before he heard any form of amusement expressed so easily as a laugh.

at first, it was any type of laughter that set him off. even the innocent giggles of a child, an expression of pure joy, warped until it’s the same as the sound that stole the last of his own innocence. the sound that took the last of his joy and turned his fear into another’s gleeful violence.

(he doesn’t go to the park anymore.)

eventually, the laughter of those around him wasn’t so jarring, so long as he could see it coming. watching amusement build to laughter, so long as it doesn’t come from behind him. 

(as much as the laughter of his family no longer brings him back to his worst moments, the echo of the batcave carrying laughter in such distortion will always make him bristle.)

the first time jason stumbled upon a show with a laugh track, he came back himself only hours later in a different place with no recollection of the hours in between. the sitcom channel sits untouched. the sound of joy for many, turned into one man’s perfect nightmare. podcasts became similarly avoided. there were certain people he avoided watching tv with for a reason. 

he can laugh because he can feel it leave his body, feels it in his chest, knows where it’s coming from, knows the reason behind it. intent, feeling, source. laughter without a source would never not send shivers down his spine