#Jason Todd was not a crook and I will personally fight everyone and anyone who says otherwise

[its-minart]

Baby Robins get to meet The Justice League their heroes pt.1

Pt.2 || Pt.3

[rason-rodd]

All The Time We Need - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Reader and Jason meet again after two years being apart and reconnect with their long lost love.

Warning : Angst, Fluff, Smut  

Author’s note: A OS definitely inspired by my 2-years long hiatus and that somewhat acknowledges it. It was almost cathartic writing it and allowed me to reconnect with Jason on a writing scale. You can read it as a sequel to “Summer Love and Swimming Pool” or not. Some moments are a bit too cheesy to my taste but I hope you’ll enjoy it nevertheless. NSFW Part is at the end. You can skip that part if you want to.

You actually realise Time flies when you take time to acknowledge it. And sometimes acknowledging is like getting buried under a mountain of sand and feeling each grain slowly chocking you and reminding you there is no escaping. The sands of Time cannot be stopped, nor can they be shoveled. They run and slip through your fingers like dust in the wind and the tighter you try to grasp them the faster they go. And when they’re gone, there is no catching them back.     That’s why Time is scary. Because no matter what you do, it won’t allow you to go back or to put an end to it. And it will certainly not allow you to forget about it either. Time will pave your life until the day you die with a constant reminder that, unlike it, you’re not eternal. And the saddest thing is it doesn’t care about what you think of it.           And yet, it seemed like Jason Todd had managed to tell Time to go fuck itself. “How long has it been?”

He hadn’t changed a bit. Looking as handsome as ever. Always and eternally sporting the same disheveled short black hair and the same mischievous yet tortured blue eyes, eyes that had put you in more trouble than you could remember. “Two years or so … I don’t know.”             All you could remember was a passionate summertime infatuation that had burnt your body and your heart night and day like a hot and dazzling sun. A fading yet intense memory you secretly cherished and replayed in period of loneliness and that you couldn’t seem to be able to replace on the timeline of your life. “Still so beautiful, I see.” You scoffed and he chuckled. “What?”       “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He scratched his head; arm muscles compressed in a leather jacket à la Jason that made you wonder how he could bear wearing such a light jacket in such freezing weather. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You goggled at his smile, childish, adorable yet naturally so seductive. The same smile that used to make your legs shake and turn to jell-o. “I didn’t know you were back in Gotham.”         “Right back at you. Last time I heard of you, you were in this little town … Hopletown, was it?”   “Appleton.” He corrected. “Looks like Timbo talks about me in my absence.”           “You’re his brother. Of course, he talks about you, just like everyone else in your family.” Judging by his signature small crooked smile on his face he seemed touched by your words, taking even time to ponder over them. Did the family really think of him in his absence?

Shivering, you tightened your wool coat around you, attempting to prevent the cold wind to infiltrate under the cloth and steal your body heat, as you let Jason think about what you had just said. But your reaction didn’t go unnoticed and it managed to pull him out of his train of thoughts. “Do you want to go somewhere warmer? We could have something to drink, catch on. I’m sure you got plenty to tell.”         “Not plenty but I could use a hot tea.” You confessed, already imagining the spicy smell of cinnamon and chai in your nostrils and the hot steam caressing your cold face.     “Amazing.” He grinned, genuinely happy and excited, a bit like a little boy at a toy store, and lowered your beanie to properly cover your ice-cold reddened ears. That gesture got you confused for a small second but it was so sweet and caring you eventually smiled. Ah Todd, always the overprotective type I see.

***

“So, what are you doing in Gotham City? I thought you wanted to ‘travel the world Dora The Explorer-style and get the hell out of this cesspool’?” He quoted you and your genuine chuckle made him smile but only briefly as you gained back your seriousness in a matter of seconds.

He could tell you were not the same girl he used to date two summers ago. You had changed, matured. You had become a woman, a woman who seemed to struggle with responsibilities so heavy they could crush her at any second. You looked tired, weary… sad even. The cheeky light in you was gone. And he wanted to know why. Not out of curiosity but to help you.           “Well, I did travel and it was awesome, like a dream come true. But I guess we always wake up from dreams eventually.” You looked down at your tea, looking at your pale reflection in the hot water, melancholia hitting you like a train. “My mother got sick and, well, her savings were not enough to pay for all the medical care so … let’s say I had to swap my backpack for a satchel… I work at Wayne Enterprises now. Bruce hired me, out of pity I suppose.”         “I’m sure it wasn’t out of pity.” You shrugged and Jason grabbed your hand and you looked up at him. “And I’m sorry about your mother. I know how it’s like to …”     “Do you still think about us?” You abruptly cut him short, not willing to keep talking about your personal issues or to plunge Jason back in dark memories that you know were very hard for him to handle.     Sure, you could have chosen another question, another topic of conversation but the thing was that those words were niggling at you since the moment you two broke up. “I mean do you happen to think about what happened between us?”

Jason didn’t answer at first, more out of surprise than out of hesitation because there was none. There was just one answer to that question. Of course.             Of course he had thought about you all over those two years. Of course he had thought about what happened, about the moments spent with you – however ephemeral they had been -, about that love he had felt and had never learned to completely erase despite the women who had entered and exited his life. Of course there had been nights in which he had replayed the lustful burning memories of you in his arms, against him, against his naked body. Of course was the answer. But not the answer he gave you. “Come with me.” He forced you to get up and slammed a fifty-dollar bill against the table, not caring about the hot chocolate he hadn’t finished or the blueberry muffin you had barely touched. “But … the change.” You tried to protest.         “Fuck the change. I want to show you something.”

***

           Out of all the places in Gotham, you never thought he would have brought you here. “Why are we here, Jason?”       It was an ancient building, far from the fancy city centre and only a few blocks away from Crime Alley. Dilapidated, covered in colorful yet ugly graffiti, this place looked liked a landmark for drug dealers and junkies and it was an understatement to say that, without Jason’s company, it would have normally made you feel unsafe and uncomfortable.         “I grew up here, before Bruce took me in.” You glanced at Jason who was staring at the place with both disgust and melancholia. “I’ve always hated that place. But it was home. And I guess it made me… I guess that is because of that place that I somehow became the man I am today… I mean, if Jason Todd hadn’t grow up here with a junkie mother and a lousy father he would have never met Brue Wayne and never became …” He stopped, on purpose, you could tell it. “Even if I hate to, I come back here when I want to think of my past, when I’m looking for a reason to keep on fighting. This place is like my temple, a memento of who I am. Damn, you must think I’m crazy.”         “ No, not at all… ” You smiled and put your hand on his arm to reassure him. “Just very Romantic for the bad boy of the Wayne family.” You teased him, knowing perfectly that literature always been Jason’s hobbyhorse and that the whole bad boy thing was a persona, a thick armour he had made to protect himself.     “Blame Alfred. He’s the one who made me ready Wordsworth.” He joked, appreciating the small banter. “Follow me.”           You took the warm hand he offered you and followed him inside the decaying building, minding your step and trying to ignore the dirt and the potential rats.          

Once on the third floor, Jason pushed a rackety wooden door that cracked and squeaked on its hinges and you entered what once was his house. “You grew up here?” You asked only to fill the heavy void caused by this dreadful place. “It was the living room. Used to hide under the table there when my parents were fighting.”

You looked around you, trying to imagine a small Jason living in here. You always knew about his crappy childhood but there is a huge difference between what you had imagined based on the stories Jason had told you in the intimacy of your bedroom and this place.       “You asked me why we’re here.” You turned around and spotted Jason knelt on the dusty wooden floor, a small dusty shoebox that he had just taken from under a floorboard between his hands. “I’ve had this since I was a child. Used to keep the things I loved most in it. Somehow, even after I left this place, I never could take it away from here.” He handed it to you and you slowly opened it, careful not to drop it. You could tell this box was important to Jason.

The content left you silent and you sat on the floor near Jason to study it. “I never really opened it. I don’t like getting stuck in the past. It terrifies me.” You frowned, thinking about all the nightmares, all the anxiety attacks he used to have back in the days you were together. “I never showed it to anyone either but hopefully that’ll answer the question you asked me in that coffee shop.” The question? You had forgotten about it, way too overwhelmed by the sudden solemnity of this moment.  “Never?”           “You’re my first. You should be proud” He tried to joke to lighten the mood and it worked for a couple of seconds. Then, you saw it, among a dog toy, a broken necklace, a batarang and other small tokens. A photo of you two kissing and smiling. A Polaroid you had personally taken on the day when Tim had offered you the camera to illustrate your travel book. “You kept it.” You declared in a whisper.     “I told you. I keep the things I love most in that box.” You stared at Jason, at the cracks of melancholia and the vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes he allowed only a few people to see. “Of course I thought of you over the years.”       You were not the cheesy romantic type. Jason was - something rooted to his love for gothic literature and poetry you supposed. But that sincere and pure confession got you all … flushed? bothered? You couldn’t really pinpoint the feeling but you could feel the shaky warmth spreading in your body, now paralyzed by the beauty of that moment. “Did you … think of me?”

If Time could stop, you would have chosen this moment to stop it. Here, now, away from your stressful life and its issues, away from all fears and all pains, with Jason and only him, forgetting about the past you’ll never be able to change or the future that vows to be uncertain and scary, thinking about what truly matters, now. “What do you think?” He chuckled and you saw his hand slightly twitch, as if he was hesitating to do something. And so you took it in yours and shared an umpteenth intimate look only he could read. “Sometimes I wish I’d never left.” Meaning, sometimes I wish I would have stayed and be with you.           “Trust me, princess. You made the right choice. Your life would have been miserable with me.” He tried to reassure you, in vain. After all, he could barely convince himself? “More miserable than the one I have right now? I seriously doubt it, Jay.” You frowned and finally got up, leaving Jason’s box on the ground, to watch at the sunset and its red golden rays from the shattered window. “What do you think would have happened had I stayed?” You had your ideas; small little ones of pure love, happiness and bliss that Jason would have managed to lock in that little box of his. “I have a better question, Y/N. What do you think can happen right now?” He was towering you, expecting an answer, waiting as he was gazing at your skin glowing under the soft light of the sun and at your shining eyes. “You tell me, Todd.” This sentence echoed in Jason’s head as a call.

And so his thumb brushed your cold cheek and you looked up at his face, your eyes glued to his features observing them and all the small details you hadn’t noticed before. A little scar thin as a needle on his right brow and a much bigger one, an invisible one that you could see in his eyes, the scar left by all the losses and the pains he had gone through recently. Roy, Bizarro, Artemis. Maybe Jason had changed as well after all. Maybe there was no secret to stop time. But he didn’t let you ponder over this and gently pressed his lips on yours.

He needed that. He had thought about it all day and the truth was, you had too. You welcomed his kiss without hesitation or second thoughts and came to press your small body against his - which seemed so tall and strong in comparison to yours – to instinctively look for safety and protection. “I missed you, princess.” He whispered close to your mouth for a brief second before capturing your full lips with his again. “I missed you too.” You confessed, hands over his hard chest, feeling his heart beat loudly under your palms.     Jason was holding you close now, his arms tightly circled around your form as if he was scared for you to leave, scared to be alone again. His fingers weaving in your hair, his head buried in the nape of your neck, he was pecking your delicate skin, smelling the sweet and heady perfume, glad it was exactly like the one he remembered. “Damn, Y/N. You’re still driving me crazy.”  He murmured as he allowed his hands to slide in your coat and under your jumper to caress your bare back, awakening a cheekiness that you thought was long gone. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You quoted him.

***

           As soon as the door to your apartment slammed shut, your coat dropped to the floor and with hasty hands, Jason threw your beanie across the room, showing an excitement you had almost forgotten. It almost knocked an old crystal vase over but he couldn’t care less.   He had waited long enough. Two years to be precise and he couldn’t wait a second longer. “Bedroom?” He asked between two hungry kisses that were making you almost suffocating against him. “ At the end of the corridor.” You whispered, already breathless, as you managed to finally get rid of his leather jacket.       “Okay.” He suddenly grabbed you to hoist you up with incredible ease, hands under your ass, squeezing it on purpose. A lustful yet cheerful action that made you yelp in surprise.  “I’m already making you scream? Perfect.” He declared with an amused smile as he rushed towards the bedroom, with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips devouring yours.     “Wrong door.” You said as he tried to open the bathroom. “Fuck.” You giggled and very soon your body finally bounced on your bed as it landed on the soft mattress.

You attempted to sit down to admire Jason but before you could do anything the hasty young man was already on top of you, right in between your legs, his lips already kissing your hot belly as his hands were slowly pulling up your jumper above your lace-covered breasts.           That’s when your first moan finally escaped your mouth. “God. I missed that sound.” Jason mumbled against your shivering skin as he cupped and squeezed your round breasts. “Do it again.” He demanded, his tongue licking you up until it reached your cleavage. “Jason.” You moaned his name, feeling a very specific humid warmth forming in between your legs as you fingers were struggling to get rid of his green t-shirt.   He cursed and knelt on the bed to take off your jumper that he carelessly tossed on the nightstand. It knocked the lamp and the radio alarm clock to the ground with a loud clinking noise. “Can you stop breaking my stuff?” You joked and he apologized with another amused bright smile. “I’m sorry, princess”             “Are you? Show me how much.” You declared with an audacious confidence you hadn’t seen in a while. “Yes, ma’am.” Jason winked and immediately unbuttoned your jeans to pull them down along with your panties, revealing your wet and rosy womanhood begging for his attention. He sighed and took a deep breath when he saw it, glad to rediscover that little part of you. Slowly, his calloused fingers went to caress it, making you draw a sharp breath as your fingers tightened around the covers. You didn’t want him to tease you too long and you somewhat you know he wouldn’t. Not today. He was too excited and needy for that.     And so were you in a way judging by the certain frustration that made you mewl when Jason’s expert finger slowly entered you while his thumb came to tickle your swollen clit. You wanted him now but you had to admit you had missed his fingers down there, the same way you had missed everything about him. Which reminded you there was something you had to do. “Let’s even the odds, shall we? I want to see how you handle such a sweet torture.”   “Sweet torture?” He repeated with a cute chuckle as you unbuckled his leather belt. “How am I torturing you, Y/N?” You unzipped his black trousers and immediately plunged you hand in his underwear to gently grab his already hard cock, making Jason curse even more crudely than before.           You chuckled and free his shaft from his boxers to jerk him off. He was as thick and long as you remembered. You bit your lower lip, impatient to feel him inside you. “Like what you see?”             “Shut up.” You knelt on the mattress and immediately took his tip between your lips to suck it like a lollipop, enjoying the taste of his bitter pre-cum on your tongue and the sound of Jason’s sharp breath in your ears. “Damn it, princess.” He managed to say with half lidded eyes.   You licked his penis with a grin before finally welcoming it in your mouth with a lustful moan. How much you had missed it. “You know. I think I get what you mean by sweet torture now.” Jason confessed as he weaved his fingers in your soft hair, torn apart by two ideas: one, let you continue your amazing blow job. Two, fuck you like he never did before. But you did not listen and started bobbing your head the way you knew he loved, taking his dick as deep as you could without gagging around him. “Fucking hell, Y/N” Jason groaned as he grabbed your head between his hands to accompany your pace. “You’re fucking amazing.” Then, his hand gently slapped your ass and he bent over to kiss it with a loving smile that was swallowed by another growl of his as his abs violently tensed with pleasure. “Alright, enough.” He pushed you flat on your back and placed himself between your legs again. He kissed your folds and licked your slit to wet it even more than it already was to finally lingered on your clit that he sucked eagerly, forcing a guttural crying moan out of your tightly sealed lips. Damn, that tongue! “I thought you said enough.” You complained, your voice as low as a whisper.

Jason chuckled and smiled brightly before he eventually knelt in between your spread thighs. “God, how gorgeous you are.” He declared as he tapped his hard cock against your reddened lips, a cheeky gesture whose sole purpose was to make you beg. You knew it. “You want this?”       “Fuck, Jay.” You grumbled, moving your hips vigorously against his shaft, looking for a way to finally welcome it inside you. But Jason ignored your whim and bent over your body. “You want me?” His face was so close to yours you could feel his hot breath caressing your lips. “Yes.” You murmured. “I want you, Ja…” He did not let you finish your sentence and caught your lips with a burning eagerness, his hand around his cock guiding it inside you, making you moan in his mouth. “Fuck.” Jason growled between his gritted teeth as he felt himself slowly sinking inside of you. “I almost forgot you felt so tight.” “ I almost forgot you were so big.” You cleared your voice, an inexplicable mechanism to relax and allow his cock to fully enter and stretch you. “I know. Sorry.” He winced, adjusting his position on top of you to admire how beautiful you were around his penis and how perfect you pussy was for him. “Damn. I don’t know if I’ll last long, princess.” Jason admitted with a shiver and you cried out when he suddenly pulled out to push himself back inside of you with one long exquisite move. “That’s alright. We’ll do it again.”

Those last words made Jason grin in a way he had never done before as he was genuinely happy that you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, a casual lay to remember the old good days.       So he immediately took a nice pace that quickened after each new thrust and you let your hands caress his smooth chest from his strong pectorals down to his divine abs and the chiselled V below his navel, finding him simply handsome. Then you nudged his rear with your ankles, pressing his hips closer to yours to take him deeper inside of you, and started moaning his name again, a strong wave of pleasure forming in your core, ready to drown you. “Jay!” His mouth met your neck and sucked on the thin skin with ardour. “Are you gonna cum for me, princess?” That was too much to handle. “Yeah” You cried out, tears of bliss watering your eyes.       “Cum for me then.” He didn’t have to say it twice. You dug your nails in his back and screamed loudly as your walls clenched around tightly his thick cock. “That’s it, princess.” He said as you kept calling his name on and on, sending him closer to a most awaited orgasm that he eventually reached and let explode in you under the shape of a loud growled “fuck” and beads of white seed right inside of you. “Y/N” Jason groaned between his gritted teeth as he thrust hard and deep in you for the last time, his sweaty forehead against yours. “Jay!” You shouted again while clawing at his back painfully enough to make him wince and hiss.     Then he stopped moving, exhausted and breathless just like you, and watched you sink in the mattress trying to catch your breath. He caressed your hair as you both slowly came down from cloud nine. A kiss on your nose and he whispered. “You’re okay?” and in spite of the silliness of the question you nodded. “Never been better.”

Your lips found each other again and Jason let himself lie down on you, placing his head on your breasts, listening to your hearts pounding and to your loud ragged breaths. “I missed you.” He whispered and he held you body against his.     “I missed you too.” You repeated as you planted a kiss in his wet dark hair. “Did you have to keep your jeans on?” The question escaped with a laugh and Jason chuckled. “You know me. Didn’t want to waste any time.” He managed to gather the little energy he had left to sit down and finally remove his trousers as he thought he would feel more comfortable without them. “Oops. I think I broke your clock.” He grimaced as he noticed you the broken device on the floor and the flickering numbers flashing up endlessly on the screen. “I don’t care.” You said as you pulled Jason back against you. “We’ve got all the time we need.”

[bonyarishitafuan]

A lot of people probably are gonna hate me for this, and if you disagree with what I’m about to say, please don't bother to respond, just ignore me completely and move on, go make yourself happy.

It’s just that I honestly don't see how this:

can be the same as this:

Personally, I don't care for Dick-lite Pre-Crisis Jason at all, because he’s never seemed to me a real character with any real personality of his own, and I just really don’t buy the idea of a teenager, with still very recently murdered parents that might as well be every bit as the same kind of loving parents and positive influences to their kid as the Flying Graysons, getting over the loss of their old parents’ and accepting someone they’ve only just met around the time their parents died as his true new parent in practically no time at all...especially when it’s happened in a world where a preteen could end up spending the rest of his adulthood fighting crimes in a bat suit after witnessing his parents being gunned down by a mugger.

The only thing Pre-Crisis/Earth 1 Jason Robin seemed to have going on was being a son to Batman/Bruce (and a son to Nocturna, because clearly if he could’ve gotten over his real dad so easily, why wouldn’t he have also gotten over his real mom and come to think of this mysterious criminal lady as his true new mom when she had wanted so much for him to be her son and they had lived together for like a week)--and I feel that if the executives at the time had really wanted Bruce to become a dad, they'd probably just let him settle down and give him a biological child as in the Golden Age, but instead they gave him a second Robin; and the way they laid themselves out to make the relationship between him and this second Robin to be exactly father-and-son despite the fact that Bruce would’ve had to be real stupid to actively endangering a young person whom he consider his own little boy by bringing him to fight crimes just never sits right with me.

It always seems to me like they’re just trying to retcon the original Batman and Robin relationship without actually retconning Bruce and Dick, who hadn’t really been Bruce’s adopted kid just then and had often regarded his mentor Bruce as more of his older brother/closest friend rather than just plain old “dad”--It’s like they’re just trying to remove every implication that there's ever anything gay/creepy in the original Batman and Robin dynamic, simply by bringing in another Robin character, one with the exact same backstory as Dick and nothing that could actually differentiate him from Dick (except him being originally blond-haired and himself outright telling people that he’s “not Dick” in one of his few featurings in the New Titans where he’s portrayed as every bit as much as a smart, decent, capable young person equipped to be a successful young hero just as Dick Robin or Tim Robin would’ve easily been portrayed), and making his relationship with Batman to be plainly, unequivocally father-and-son, then with there being no actual difference between Robin II and Robin I and the two Robins being virtually the same, sure the viewers would see that the relationship between Batman and Robin II and the relationship between Batman and Robin I are very much the same too, and no one could say if there’s any resemblance of a gay couple with a creepy age difference in the original Batman and Robin’s dynamic ever again since they’ve always been father and son.

It just feels so manipulative to me and I hate it, but that’s just how I feel and I’m not saying that it’s truly the case. I’m sorry if this offends anyone who loves Earth 1 Jason. If you love him, that’s great. There’s nothing wrong to love a wholesome Robin and his altogether wholesome relationship with Batman, nor there’s anything wrong to love Red Hood Jason but prefer his softer New52 version which would’ve certainly seemed to be a less drastic change from his Pre52 version if he’s more like his Earth 1 counterpart to begin with.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong to prefer one version of a character to another, to just say fuck canon and recreate a character you love into the way you could enjoy them most and have all the fun you want with them.

What gets to me and drives me bonkers, is when people couldn’t just be happy with their headcanon, but have to go out of their way to tell other people that it’s fact that Pre-Crsis/Earth 1 Jason and Post-Crisis/New Earth Jason are the same character, while in actuality, they weren’t even meant to be the same in the first place.

If DC had ever wanted to just keep using Pre-Crisis Jason but give him a new backstory, they would just follow up on whatever he had been doing with Bruce as his pre-crisis self while casually throwing in his new backstory at some point, just as they did with a lot of other characters such as Donna post-crisis, not give him a full reintroduction in Batman #408 and rewrite his relationship with Bruce from the ground up.

It just makes me want to scream, when people, who never seems to have a lot of problems with Under the Hood and maybe also Lost Days, have to go out and call every portrayal of Pre-52 Jason and some of the more recent Red Hood Jason that shares a resemblance to him wrong for not portraying Jason as that sweet little bookworm he really truly was, and that an entire different life experience just cannot change a character in any substantial way, and Jason being an angry kid with aggressive and violent tendencies is just something that had never been established until the more recent retcon/the OOC work of Jim Starlin, while in truth Pre-Crisis Jason with the exact same backstory as Dick just simply cannot be the same as Crime Alley Kid Jason, who doesn’t even have the same biological parents as Pre-Crisis Jason to provide him with the same gene that the Flying Todds, which were Joe and Trina Todd, had created their son with. 

If Pre-Crisis Jason and Post-Crisis Jason are one and the same, then it’d mean Dick is also very much the same as Jason is the same as Tim is the same as Damian is the same as Bruce and no one character is truly unique and special because every character ever made is just an alternate version of another character.

It had been shown most clearly since his first appearance that Post-Crisis/New Earth Jason, other than literally being a different kid with the same name, was nothing like his pre-crisis counterpart, but rather a bold, outspoken, confrontational, fully independent and proactive ghetto kid, who had got some serious stones to rob Batman’s gear, actually succeed in taking the tire off the freaking Batmobile and getting away originally, and had only run into Batman when he had come back to steal more, and called Batman a “big boob” after he had given him a good hit right in his Bat stomach.

This precious cupcake here↓

↑...that was often used as a proof that the NE Angry Robin Jason is a later retcon/ mere misconception had actually only ever existed in Detective Comics #569-573 during the earlier part of the writer Mike Barr’s run. These 5 issues from Barr are all notably 60s-ish, and while they’re published after CoIE and Batman Year one, it’s clear that they’re Earth 1 stories, seeing that they’re written with characters such as Earth 1 Catwoman. It was only in #574 that Jason’s New Earth origin was first introduced in Detective Comics, right before Batman Year Two; and although the issue was still written by Mike Barr and it did seem to have followed directly after #573, the previous issue was ended with the caption of “The New Origin of Batman”, and the tone of #574 as well as the writer’s latter issues and his portrayal of Jason Robin were no longer the same.

↑Detective Comics #574↑

It was stated by Bruce repeatedly, in both his own title and Detective Comics, that the reason he had taken in NE Jason as his new Robin was to save him from walking down the wrong path and to provide an outlet for his rage.

While no doubt Jim Starlin’s NE Jason Robin (that everyone hates) was the most aggressive and violent, it had never contradicted how the character was initially written by Max Allen Collins, the writer of Batman #408.

↑Batman #410 by Collins↑

↑ Batman #411 by Collins, after Jason had found out that Willis was murdered by Two-Face and Bruce had been hiding the information from him ↑

Although in the end of Batman #411, Jason did seem to have gotten over his anger and saved Two-Face’s life, judging by the way he’d talked about his dad Willis in his first introduction and the fact that he’d never before bothered to find out what had happened to the man the whole time while he’s in the manor where he had all the resources to acquire the information, it was doubtful that he and Willis had had a good relationship, and what he’d felt for his crook dad then could hardly be the same as what he felt later in “The Diplomat’s Son” story.

NE Jason had always been consistent in being a fearless, proactive, feisty individual with a hot temper, even in the hand of a writer with a much mellower sense of writing like Mike Barr.

↑ Jason and Bruce encountered Two-Face again in Detective Comics #580-581 by Barrs ↑

It had been established from the get-go that NE Jason Robin was the type of kid who would challenge Batman and go out handling a criminal on his own without consulting him or anyone else first, and was morally questionable with tendencies to aggression and violence, which was perfectly understandable for someone with his background--Only at the beginning it’s easy to brush these things off, because there's never any real consequence to his behavior and so Bruce was okay when he’d behaved this way at the beginning, and since Jason’d still got a lot to learn and was eager to learn from Bruce at the beginning, it would only be right that he’s more agreeable and willing to obey Bruce, but once he had completed his training and been allowed on the field, it would also only be right for him to feel like he had learnt enough and gotten the hang of the business already, and so just easily slipped into his old habit of handling things on his own, just as he had always been while he had been surviving in the Crime Alley on his own before Bruce came along.

NE Jason Robin wasn’t suddenly turned from 0-100 in The Diplomat’s Son story (though I really doubt that it’d be impossible for someone, especially someone around Jason’s age, to go from 0-100 if they have to deal with what Jason had dealt with in the story)--

↓ This didn’t happen until after the diplomat’s son was let go by the police due to his status, and on his way out of the police station where he’d been initially brought in by Jason and Bruce for raping and kidnapping an innocent woman, the mofo called his victim right in front of Jason and Bruce and threatened her on the phone, which led the woman to immediately commit suicide. 

I’ve always thought it’s a good story and a lot more tasteful than it’s usually given credit for. It wouldn’t even have been the first time a “teenage superhero” has killed in the DCU (whether it was accidental or intentional); it’s certainly not something so dark and controversial that DC wouldn’t go for it, they could’ve easily just gone for it and had Jason Robin murder a criminal then, except they never really showed that he did. The audience just naturally assumed that he did because the whole scene was shown through Bruce’s view, and Bruce could see that even if Jason didn’t really kill the rapist then, he might very well be capable of it, and it makes the whole Under the Hood storyline as well as the continuation of Red Hood Jason possible.

The concept of Under the Hood and the continuing existence of Red Hood Jason works, instead of just being a complete character assassination like One-Year-Later Cass, only with Jason being his post-crisis version with all of his very established traits and his very established problems with Bruce.

If Under the Hood Jason is indeed Earth 1 Jason or similar to him, he would really need to be under some outside influence for him to do the things he had done, for there’s just no other justification for his action.

He would really have to be driven mad by the effect of the Lazarus Pit (which has only ever been showed to exist momentarily on other characters), he would have to be incapacitated the whole time, unable to control his own action or even form any conscious decision--and it would only make it extremely possible for him to do something truly awful such as killing some innocent or other heroes or even someone in the Batfam, since he wouldn’t be able to stop himself even if he wanted to, or be able to tell if that’s wrong; that’s what being incapacitated means, that’s why people who’s committed crimes, even as bad as murders, cannot be held legally accountable when they’re proven to be mentally ill--and if that’s truly the case, then Bruce as well as Dick (who had a pretty amicable relationship with Earth 1 Jason) and everybody else who has any knowledge about the matter would all have to be some real awful persons to not lift a finger to help him, by making it a point to stop him from committing any more murder that he wouldn’t have committed if he could help it, and figuring out a way to relieve him from the influence by means of the various science and magic overflowing in their world, like they’ve repeatedly done for many others who’ve been in the similar position, and eventually getting him the hell out of this altogether traumatic crime-fighting life, so he could finally begin to heal from his extensive traumas, including being forced to kill which has always been a very common cause of PTSD for soldiers at war; and even if Jason doesn’t leave the crime-fighting life forever, he could no longer continue operating as the Red Hood; it’d just make no sense for him to keep up the identity previously belonged to his murderer, and have it constantly remind him of how he didn’t just get brutally murdered, he was also forced into becoming a murderer himself, which.he never would’ve become if he wasn’t literally out of his mind.

Moreover, there could never have been a Tim Robin (even if Tim didn’t go by Robin but something else), if the Jason who died in A Death in the Family had the same disposition as Earth 1 Jason and none of his NE traits which was the one and only justification Bruce had for taking in Tim as his third teenage partner, seeing that Tim is patient and careful and cooperative with all the qualities to become the same kind of hero like Dick, and not at all “reckless” and “rebellious” like NE Jason, and so he’s likely to turn out like Dick and not get himself killed like Jason (that’s the only true significant retcon Pre52 Jason had. Although NE Jason Robin could be rather reckless and rebellious, that’s certainly not why he had gotten killed. They just made Bruce and everyone pretend that that’s what killed him, so it wouldn’t seem so utterly horrible for Bruce to endanger another teenage kid with no superpower or any previous fighting training by bringing them in the business that had already gotten one kid killed, and also for Dick and everyone else to just let him).

It’s a complete disregard of facts and logic to call Earth 1 Jason and Red Hood Jason the same character, which doesn’t really matter as long as it’s only headcanon; but when people push it as a fact, it really just sound to me like they’re saying that it’s wrong to like Pre 52 Jason/Post-Crisis Jason Robin, which I very much do because I actually think he’s an interesting character with an interesting and more coherent story than a lot of other DC characters.

It’s like they’re saying that it’s just plain wrong and unnatural for a person to have aggressive and violent tendencies and be inclined to criminal behavior simply because they had grown up in a most crime-infested place and had to rely on themselves and learned to do what it takes to survive since before twelve, or become more and more violent simply because they’ve been made to work in an extremely violent environment and have never been provided with any kind of actual aid for their mental health the entire time.

It’s like that if a person, after being brutally murdered and then coming back to find that their mentor/guardian who was the closest thing they had to a family and was also responsible for their death in a major way just didn’t seem to be giving any shit about that at all, is filled with such murderous rage that they could very well just go out and kill a bunch of criminals, but they aren’t actually a smol whump baby with no absolutely agency of their own that must be protected at all times all along, then they’re just no good at all and don’t deserve any love or respect or understanding.

...I don’t like myself for ranting about this. I hope I could just not give any shit about this dumb thing, but it’d been driving me crazy and I’d just got to let it out.

[thepartyresponsible]

welcome to the all fluff, all the time network. i said here that i was taking prompts, but i neglected to mention that i’m writing all of them as fluff. or as close to fluff as i can manage, anyway.

this one’s for the anon who asked for jason with anyone with the prompt “please don’t do this.”

it’s a standalone piece of a much longer hockey au. endgame is jason, bucky, and frank.

                                                          ---

“Please don’t do this.”

“Oh,” Jason says, “I’m gonna do it.”

“Jason,” Bucky says. He leans over, as close as he can get. He’s pale, a little wide-eyed, bottom lip red from his attempts to bite back the pain. “Come on.”

The trainer doesn’t look up from carefully rotating Bucky’s arm, checking the range of motion, but Jason knows damn well that the little frown on his face is not good news.

They were on Injured Reserve together, him and Bucky. Back when Jason first got traded, when he showed up with – no shit – hundreds of stitches in his throat and exactly zero endearing personality traits. Barnes had been quiet, distracted, kinda lost in his head, but he’d always been so Goddamn nice. From day one, when Jason showed up exactly like some prissy, sullen bastard who’d never been traded, never expected to be traded, never wanted to suit up in anything other than Bats’ black and gold, Barnes had treated him like he was something worth keeping around.

And here they are, five games into Barnes’ big comeback, and Brock fucking Rumlow just took a swipe at Bucky’s freshly-healed arm.

Castle’s out sick, or this would be his responsibility. Hell, if Castle were playing tonight, Rumlow probably would’ve kept his fucking hands to himself.

The Avengers don’t need an enforcer. That’s not Jason’s job. But Jason considers himself a well-rounded player. He can fill in where he’s needed.

“I’m gonna fucking do it, Buck,” Jason says, eyeing his route, sighting his target. “I’m definitely gonna do it.”

“Todd,” Coulson says, tone kinda sharp but not angry like he means it, “we don’t need any theatrics right now.”

“Philly,” Jason says, “Philadelphia. Cream Cheese. All I’ve got is theatrics.”

Coulson sighs and turns his eyes skyward. He keeps Jason on the bench until the Avengers score on the power play, and then he sets him loose. As far as Jason’s concerned, that’s practically a benediction.

Thor heads in for a change, worried eyes pinned on Bucky, and Jason’s over the boards and racing up the ice a full two seconds too early, like too many men is a summation of his recent dating history and not a perfectly fucking legitimate penalty.

Not that his behavior would indicate he gives a good Goddamn about taking penalties right now.

He does – and he hopes Bruce notices this when he watches the tape later, hopes Alfred appreciates the depth of his personal growth – wait to drop his gloves until after Rumlow calls him a pretty boy and a bitch and a coward who lost his balls. He waits, like a professional, until Rumlow’s own gloves hit the ice before he throws a mean, messy uppercut directly to his throat.

Rumlow’s a good fighter. It’s why his fans love him. He floods his Instagram every summer with pictures of himself shirtless and sweating in a boxing ring. Jason shouldn’t know that, probably, but it’s not like he’s ever had a problem compartmentalizing I wanna fuck you and I wanna fuck you up when he needs to.

Rumlow fights like someone who knows how, who learned in a ring with his knuckles taped or behind a school with someone to hold the other kid’s arms back. He knows to go for weak points, mainly. It’s served him well so far.

Jason hasn’t been in a fight since the one that damn near killed him. And he never had any formal boxing lessons, but he grew up doing his best not to get stabbed to death in Gotham’s back alleys, and the result of that practical training is a fighting style Roy Harper once fondly described as honey badger on a life-altering hit of PCP.

Jason’s swallowing blood when it’s over. His knuckles are fucked, and there’s an unfriendly tingling in his gumline that suggests his emergency dentist might be about to earn herself another tropical vacation, but Rumlow’s flat out on the ice, and he’s bloodier than Jason, and that’s all that matters.

Jason goes, easy and compliant, when the linesman pulls him away. Wide-eyed and innocent, who, me? all the way to the bench because maybe it’ll make the officials more lenient. It must work well enough, because they both take five minute majors, but Jason dodges the instigator penalty, saved by Rumlow’s notorious willingness to fight anyone smaller than himself or maybe by the mercy of officials who just watched him slam his stick against Bucky’s arm like he was trying to split firewood.

A five minute major with 4:38 left in the third period. So that’s the end of Jason’s game, then. Worth it.

Bucky isn’t on the bench when Jason gets skates up, but Wilson gives him an approving clap on the shoulder as Jason shuffles toward the tunnel, and it settles Jason enough that he gets all the way through the trainer’s pestering, weathers them checking his teeth and patching his knuckles, and then walks himself to the locker room before his lungs forget how to process oxygen.

“I asked you not to,” Bucky says, long-suffering but still so fucking nice. He wraps his good hand around Jason’s neck and tips him forward. “Breathe.”

“Fucking,” Jason says, as he tries to focus on a sane breathing pattern. “Fuck you, Buck. I wasn’t gonna—we just got you back.”

He feels like his throat is closing up.

It’s the blood in his mouth, he thinks. And the blood he saw on the ice. The crowd, roaring like that. Bloodthirsty.

They’d been thirsty like that in Gotham when he squared off against Bane. Biggest fucking guy in the league, and there was Jason, scrappy and pissed off, fighting Bane because Bruce wouldn’t.

He’d known he was gonna get hurt. He’d been ready for that.

It was an accident, what happened. Bruce didn’t mean it, and Jason’s heard, if you watch the footage, you can see Bane trying to stop it, his giant hands grabbing for Jason as he falls.

Jason’s never watched it. He doesn’t need to see himself catch Bruce’s skate blade with his throat. He lived through it. That was enough.

“I had to, Buck,” Jason says. He’s got his head propped against Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky, because he’s a nice guy, because he’s a good teammate, is running his hand through Jason’s incredibly disgusting, sweat-soaked hair. “He hit you, and Frank’s not here, and Rogers can’t leave the crease, so--”

“You’re sweet,” Bucky says, which is something no one has ever said to Jason.

“Had to,” Jason repeats. Because it’s not about being sweet. It’s about making sure everyone knows what’ll happen if they hurt his people.

“My arm’s gonna be fine,” Bucky says. “They took some x-rays, just to check. But it’s gonna be fine.”

Jason breathes out, and his lungs remember their function, and he can breathe again. “Good,” he says. He scrubs at his face. His hands barely come away bloody at all.

“Shit,” Bucky says, with a heavy sigh. He takes his hand out of Jason’s hand, slides his fingers carefully along his cheek to his jaw, and then he lifts Jason’s face toward the light. He frowns at the split lip, the forming bruise. “Frank’s gonna kill me.”

“What?” Jason says. He runs his tongue over his lip, and Bucky’s eyes track the movement. There’s a weird, wrung-out feeling twisting in the pit of Jason’s stomach. “I’m the one who didn’t— he just whacked the shit out of your arm, Buck. Right in front of me.”

Bucky smiles at him, crooked and a little rueful. He stares at him for a second longer, and then he pulls back. There is, faint but still audible, the roar of a hometown crowd getting a victory.

Well, they were up 4-1 when Jason went after Rumlow. Whatever Bruce, and Tim, and all of Gotham’s management think, Jason isn’t incapable of growth. He’s getting better. He is learning, finally, to pick his battles.

Maybe all he needed was to get the fuck out of Gotham. And someday he’ll probably even feel alright about being wrenched out of his hometown and discarded like trash down a storm drain.

“You should take a shower,” Bucky tells him. “Put some ice on those hands. The guys’ll wanna buy you drinks.”

After Jason’s second-to-last fight in Gotham, he watched from the penalty box while the other team scored the goal that won them the game. Bruce was so mad that nobody in the locker room spoke a word afterwards. Nobody talked to Jason at all.

After his last fight in Gotham, the Bats traded him while he was still in the hospital.

It’s been a long damn time since anyone bought him drinks after he fought for his team. Since back before Roy was traded. Since way back in the early days, when he was a rising star instead of a letdown and a liability.

“You think so?” Jason says, biting back a smile. “No shit?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. He’s smiling when he does it, so there’s no sting to it at all. “Go get cleaned up,” he says. “No one’s gonna let you in a bar with blood on your face.”

There are bars in Gotham that wouldn’t recognize him any other way. But Jason’s starting to think – with a stupid, flickering hope he’d left for dead years ago – that maybe things will be different now.

[bat-losers-inc]

Kintsugi: Chapter 10

Summary: Final Crisis/Red Robin AU. Dick admits Tim to a psychiatric facility after Bruce is lost in time. Jason finds him suffering at the hands of a Scarecrow-copycat and breaks him out. While safe in Jason’s apartment, Tim still struggles with panic attacks and drug withdrawal. At a loss for what to do, Jason calls Roy Harper.

Pairings: Jason Todd & Tim Drake, Jason Todd & Dick Grayson, Roy Harper & Jason Todd.

                                                    -   -   -   -

Tim woke to the early afternoon sun with his face pressed deep into the mattress and the sheets tangled up around his ankles. He wiped away the drool that puddled against his cheek. A line of plastic tubing snaked across the mattress to follow each of his movements. With inquisitive fingers, Tim followed the trail to its origin point in the crook of his arm where an IV needle was fastened down tightly with medical tape. Too tightly, in fact. Tim could feel where the skin puckered and pulled tightly against the adhesive tape.

“Leave it.”

Tim flinched at the voice from behind him. He stopped picking at the edge of the medical tape and rolled over to see Jason slumped in a chair, one hand massaging his eyes. Had he sat there all night? Tim pushed himself up until his back rested against the wall behind the bed. 

He cleared his throat as best he could with his mouth so dry and managed a throaty request. “Can I have a glass of water?”

Jason stood, thumping his chair down on the wood floor as he went. He appeared again a moment later at the top of the stairs with a glass of water. Tim held out an eager hand to take it from him but Jason stepped to the side and planted it down on the bedside table with more force than was absolutely necessary. 

He returned to his seat. 

Tim blinked.

He’d anticipated Jason’s anger, but the fact that Jason had brought him back to the apartment and cared for him made Tim think it would pass in a day or so. For now, he drank slow sips of his water and waited to see what choice Jason would make: voice some of the thoughts that were obviously consuming him or return downstairs and leave him to sleep.

To Tim’s surprise, he did neither. When his glass was empty and he couldn’t take the silence anymore, Tim asked, “Where’s Roy?”

“Blackgate.”

“Arrested or just visiting?” he said, trying to pull a laugh from Jason. Not even a twitch from Jason’s stony expression.

“He went to talk to Croc.”

“Killer Croc? Why ?”

Jason sighed and squeezed at the bridge of his nose. “He’s Roy’s sponsor. Last night... wasn’t good for his sobriety. There’s an NA meeting this afternoon and Croc told him to stop in.”

Tim placed his empty glass back on the bedside table. “Is he going to leave Gotham?”

Jason sighed and rubbed at his eyes again. “I would say there’s a fair chance of that happening, yeah. He was never too happy being here, and even if you apologize for your little stunt last night, I don’t think that it’s gonna change his mind.”

Tim stared at him. “Apologize? Who said anything about me apologizing for last night?”

It was the first time since he’d woken that Jason met his gaze and now he held it with a critical intensity. “ I did . Things got heavy here last night and you ran off to hide from it the only way you knew how. Addictions are hard to break. He understands that Tim, but you still need to apologize.”

“Sorry... but you’ve got it all wrong,” said Tim. “I didn’t make a mistake last night. I made a choice to fuck up my detox because I’m not ready to get clean yet. So, whatever narrative you’ve been quietly spinning to yourself or anyone else about why I did what I did... it’s a lie.”

Jason held up a hand. “No. Just...no. That’s just your fear talking. You were afraid of Dick when he showed up here, so you ran. When your withdrawal was too much for you to endure you went looking for drugs to feed it. And now you’re afraid to get clean and you’re trying to run from this too.”

“ No , I walked out when I saw the pissing contest you two were having and suddenly realized that neither of you gives a shit about me. Not really. I’m just another means for you to rub Dick’s face in the mud, and vice-versa. And yeah, of course, I’m afraid to get clean— who isn’t— but that doesn’t mean I have to let you force me into it.”

“You really believe—” Color rose in Jason’s face. “Fuck you! Seriously? I broke you out of a mental hospital, patched you up, and risked my ass to get the information you need to detox safely and this is the gratitude I get? You haven’t said thank you to me once. Not once! ” 

“Thank you! For what? Making a major life decision for me and just expecting me to run with it? Gee, thanks !”

“I didn’t ask you because I didn’t think there was another decision. It wasn’t your choice to start using in the first place so I assumed you’d want to get clean as soon as possible.”

“Put yourself in my shoes for a moment, okay? I survive that living nightmare of a situation where nothing I said or did could stop a forced drug addiction from happening. And then I wake up on your couch as you detailed my 12 step recovery plan with Roy—  the sponsor I never asked for— on his way.”

 “Do you have any idea how scary that was? I wasn’t ready for rehab, not even close to ready to go through it when I still felt so raw and shaky. But, you saved me. How could I say no without it being seen as spitting in the face of your kindness?”

Jason rubbed aggressively at his upper lip. “You think you know me so goddamn well. You don’t though and you could have told me!”

“Like I’m telling you now?” countered Tim. Jason’s mouth shut like a trap, hurt flashing briefly across his features. As if sensing how Tim was reading his every expression, Jason turned away towards the window, staring resolutely at the low-hanging gray clouds that floated sluggishly past them. 

Tim plowed on, wishing, no needing , his point to be heard. “Wanting to be clean and the reality of getting there are two very different things, Jason, and my ability to make that choice matters a whole hell of a lot.”

“If it was so horrible here then why didn’t you leave sooner, huh?”

“And go where?” snapped Tim. “With what?”

He counted out the reasons on his fingers— for the bad he’d need to use his toes, for the good he barely needed one hand. “I’ve got nowhere to live that Dick doesn’t already know about and no money to rent a new place to lay low in because by court order my bank accounts have been frozen. And even if I could go somewhere and hide, I’m too sick and broke to get the drugs I need. If I left here, I’d either be alone and sick with withdrawal pains or locked up in another ward. Dead in a week, either way, I’d say.”

Jason’s eyes flickered down to his lap. 

“Fuck, Tim,” he said quietly, “Don’t say things like that.”

“It’s the truth, I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear it.” Tim continued, pleading his case as best as he could, praying he hadn’t killed all of Jason’s sympathy for him. He’d take even just a scrap of kindness. “You were the only one that could keep me safe. I had to stay, even if that meant lying to your face. But now I think it’s time we stop living in this fool’s paradise and face reality.”

“Fine, then tell me for real why you won’t consider getting clean... because I know you’re too smart to make such as stupid a choice as continuing to use an abusive substance.”

Tim dropped his gaze and picked at the bedsheets by his hip. “What does it matter? You’re just going to think I’m crazy like everybody else.”

“What did I tell you about slotting me into the same stupid category as everyone else? If there's one thing you should know about me, it’s that I’m very anti-establishment, especially when it comes to those idiots we call family.”

Tim’s lips twitched and he found himself smiling down into his lap. Well, it was worth a shot… at the very least he’d learn if Jason was as good as his word.

“I don’t think Batman died during his battle against Darkseid. I think he got blasted back to a different time and he can’t find his way home. He’s out there… wherever, whenever, and I have to find him before the trail runs cold. I need to be able to focus on my research. I need to be able to go out and track down clues. That’s why I can’t quit the benzos now. I can’t do any of those things if I’m sitting around for a week or more puking into a bucket, having panic attacks, and generally being a useless sack of shit.”

“And what was your plan if you tracked down a clue that led you into a fight? Especially if it led you to Darkseid, a.k.a the guy who wiped the floor with Batman. You’ve got to know you’re crippled in a fight while on those sedatives.”

“I was planning on figuring that part out when I got to it.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Oh, fantastic.”

“Oh, like you haven’t done it too!” snapped Tim. He turned away, arms crossed tightly across his breast.

It didn’t deter Jason in the least. “Yeah, and the last time I did it got me killed. ”

It was a stalemate of an argument and Tim was smart enough to realize that their points of view were so starkly different, it was unlikely that they’d ever come to see eye to eye. Chalk it up to upbringing, personality, whatever… this was a hurdle they’d probably never cross and he just had to accept it. 

Perhaps Jason was thinking the same. “What if we negotiate a deal?”

“What kind of deal?”

“You agreed to start detox and I’ll let you do your research into Batman’s disappearance. If you catch a lead that needs on-the-ground investigating, I’ll track it down for you. This way you can still work towards getting better without worrying about wasting time being on bed rest.”  

Tim thought it over. Finally, he decided to put a stop to the tension. The truth was he didn’t want to fight with Jason and he also wanted to be better than this version of himself that spent half his days thinking about where he’d get his next fix. 

He sighed. “If I say yes will you please stop with the dead guy comments? Because I swear the guilt trips are worse than the puns.”

A small hesitant smile crept its way onto Jason’s face. When he spoke his voice was full of quiet hopefulness. “You’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay.”

 Jason’s smile seemed like it was also there to stay. “Good. Now there’s somebody else who needs to hear it too. Dial 1.”

Jason tossed Tim his phone and Tim did as he was told, wondering with nervous breath if Roy was going to pick up.

[the-sweetest-dragon]

Character Sheet

This is the last one of my DC characters that I’ve revised and I really like the amount of detail I put back into this character.  I hope to start writing her story soon, but I’ll have to thank @incorrectbatfamiliaquotes once again for all her help because if it wasn’t for her, I don’t think I’d even consider rewriting any of these.  

_____________________________________________________

Full Name: Ashton Poppy Nazari

Nickname: Ash

Ethnicity: Arabic and German (Her father was Arabic and her mother was German)

Birthday: November 13, 2000

Age: 18

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Basic Personality: Ash would describe herself as a rebel with a heart of gold, which is mostly true.  She’s kind and cares a lot about other people, but often forgets that not everyone thinks as quickly as she does.  Quick to start an argument, or physical fight, to defend what she believes is right.  Ash likes to move around; she constantly taps her foot or drums her fingers against things.  She’s scary intelligent, and may be a better detective than Tim Drake.  

Deeper Personality:

Aggressive:  Ash refuses to leave well enough alone and it gets her into trouble at the orphanage and with foster parents.  Starts fights with other kids, and usually wins, due to her background in boxing.  She wouldn’t describe herself as aggressive, but others would.  

Outspoken: She’s a hardcore feminist, to the point that others can recite her speeches from memory.  Ash believes that her body is her own to control, her sexuality is valid, and that LGBTQ people deserve the same rights and opportunists that cishet people are allowed to have.   

Hyper: Ashton likes to move around a lot.  She got in trouble a lot in school for tapping her feet and drumming her fingers against her desk.  Ash also gets distracted a lot, but once focused, she’ll rarely drop whatever she’s interested in.  

Best Friend: Jonathan Kent 

Her and Jon met while she lived in Metropolis.  She saved him from making a complete fool of himself by tripping and spilling milk on the school bully.  Jon loves her to death and once harbored a small crush on her, but grew out of it fairly quickly.  They kept in touch over the years and are still great friends to this day.

Family: Unknown to her, however, as the author, I can tell you that they were involved in the League of Assassins and were killed because they didn’t want to raise Ashton in such a harsh environment.  They desperately wanted her to have a normal life.  They worked for the League because they were forced to; they had no choice.  When they saw a chance to escape, they took it but at a harsh consequence of Ashton growing up without parents.  Ra’s, as a way to try and keep them under his control, wanted to marry Ash off to Damian when they came of age.  Talia thought it would be a wonderful match and Ashton’s parents knew that it was just another way to control them, prompting them to plan their escape in secret.  Talia was the one to kill them.  

Love Life:  Ashton likes to date, but not seriously.  She’s not one to be tied down.  Ash identifies as bisexual but leans more towards guys than girls.  Her last relationship ended pretty badly, and it left her with a black eye.  She now knows to not trust Gotham street rats.   

Political Viewpoint: Ash is very liberal, but also knows that people are allowed to have different opinions to her own.  That doesn’t stop her from starting fights though.  

Basic Description:  Ashton is pretty but in an unusual way.  Her features are large but somehow delicate.  Ash has heterochromia, with one green eye and one brown eye.  Her hair is cut short and is dark brown, with honey blonde highlights.  She has freckles and moles everywhere.  Jon always used to joke that its because the sun is in love with her.  Her hair never gets longer than shoulder length because it bothers her if it’s too long.  Ash isn’t tall, but she isn’t short either.  She’s curvy and has thighs that would Jason Todd to shame.  Muscular without being boxy; she used to box a lot in her spare time.  She has a lot of piercings; her earlobes are pierced twice each and in her right ear, her cartilage is pierced too.  Her nose is also pierced and she typically wears a stud in it.  Ash has a few tattoos, all of which were saved up for and paid for with her own money from working jobs in coffee houses or babysitting.  On her calf, she has an electric blue skeleton that is skateboarding and wearing a Hawaiian shirt.  She has a blue and purple hummingbird on her left shoulder and a bat hanging upside down beneath her boobs.  (We stan a tattooed queen in this house.)

Short Term Goals: Ash just wants to have a nice summer and to not worry about the future for a few months.   

Long Term Goals: Ashton is determined to become a music teacher and find a home to settle down in.  She isn’t sure if she’d want to get married or even have kids, but likes to think about her future quite often.  

Favorite Outfit: Ash’s dress sense depends on the day, but her favorite outfit is a vintage Queen shirt paired with ripped mom jeans, which have fishnets underneath them, and clunky boots she found at a thrift store.  

Favorite Song: Black Sheep by The Clash at Demonhead

Hobbies: Ash enjoys a number of things.  She used to box a lot, and knows a lot of self defense that she taught to girls in the orphanage before she left.  Ashton can play the guitar and sings a little.  She’ll occasionally write her own songs, but prefers to not share them with anyone.  

Favorite Candy: She’s partial to dark chocolate Crunch Bars or Peeps, but only the pink ones (the yellow ones don’t taste the same)

Favorite Drink: Ashton loves frozen hot chocolate with whipped cream and caramel drizzle; she has a sweet tooth like no other.  

Fatal Flaw: She hates opening up to other people about her feelings.  She’ll tell you her opinion in a heartbeat but when she’s feeling sad, she’ll refuse to talk to people. 

Habits: Ashton chews on her nails.  They’re rarely longer than where her finger is and finds it easier to not chew them if they aren’t long.  

Favorite Color: She’s partial to blood red and black.  

Favorite Food: Vegetarian zucchini lasagna is her absolute favorite.  Ash is vegetarian and loves to experiment with food.  This is one of her favorite recipes that she’s tried in the past few years.  

Fears: Ash is afraid of snakes and dark holes.  She has nightmares of being thrown into the sea from a ship in the night.  Ash is terrified that people will get to know the real her and leave anyways.  

Life Motto: Be the woman who fixes another woman’s crown without telling the world it was crooked.  

Favorite Movie: A Knight’s Tale because it’s awesome.

Weird Talent: She’s managed to figure out a good portion of superheroes secret identities by doing basic detective work.  It’s one of her favorite things to surprise Jon with.

“Hey, I know who Kid Flash is.”

“No you don’t.”

“Dude, it’s obviously Bart Allen, I’m not dumb.”

*Surprised Pikachu face*

Role Model: Batgirl, otherwise known as Stephanie Brown.  Ash admires her strength and resilience.  Coming back after a pregnancy must have been one of the hardest things in the world.  Plus, she has to put up with Tim Drake, which means she’s an amazing person with a great temperament.    

Religion: Ash is agnostic and doesn’t enjoy going to church.  

Prized Possession: When Ashton found her way into her first orphanage, she came with a small golden locket that doesn’t open but is engraved with what she believes to be her parents initials.