#also I have feelings about Jason having growing pains

[deadsetobsessions]

I am waiting for my terrible decisions to come feast upon my corpse (I had four slices of mozzarella cheese and I am wildly lactose intolerant) so tall can have this thing I wrote while my bowels attempted to curdle up and wither.

——

Jason laid face down on the floor of his safe house, cheek miserably smushed to the carpet as his joints screamed in growing agony.

“Oh, shit, you good, little wing?”

Jason groaned, not even having enough energy to flip his face to the other side as a pair of boots came into view. Dick.

“Jason, are you okay? Where’s the wound?”

“C’mon Todd, even Timothy knows the importance of addressing open wounds.” Shit, the brat was here too.

“You coming down with something?” Tim’s voice asked from his other side.

Great, Jason grumbled, the whole idiot platoon is here.

A warm hand shook his shoulder, Dick’s concerned mug showing up in Jason’s- huh, when did it get this blurry?- sight. His face scrunched up in worry.

“You look stupid.” Jason said, though it sounded more like ‘yew loo stew pud’ with his face still smushed onto the ground. Reluctantly, he added, “No wound.”

“Tim, help me out.”

Jason groaned when the world spun as Tim and Dick hefted him up.

“What’s happening, Jason? Talk to us.” Tim said sharply, knowing that the tone would get Jason to respond.

“Growing pains.” Jason mumbled. “Laz pits side effects.”

“I see,” Damian suddenly said, and suddenly Jason was so much more grateful for his presence. The demon brat understood. “Richard, Drake, get him to bed. I will retrieve the ice.”

It probably spoke levels of how bad he looked that Jason’s brothers didn’t bother to even comment on the brat’s orders. Jason was lugged to his bed and tucked in.

“Sorry,” he mumbled at Dick.

“For what?” Dick patted him on the head as Tim went to get a glass of water and the painkillers he stored in the bathroom mirror cabinet.

“I’m heavy. You have old man knees.”

Divk gasped, mock offended. “Excuse me?! I’m not old! You’re fine if you’re talking shit, Jay.”

“Feels like shit…” Jay paused. “Not as shit as your gray hairs.”

“Tim! Jason’s bullying me!”

“Gray is a good color on you, I think,” Tim said, walking back in with water and meds. They helped Jason drink the meds as Dick alternated between whining about not being old and indignantly sayin ‘respect your elders, you brats!’

“Here.” Damian walked in with both bags of peas and actual ice packs. “It should be better after you have rested, but if you don’t, mother knows an acupuncture treatment that would help.”

Jason shivered as they applied the ice packs.

“Ugh, fuck off.”

“Just sleep, you raging asshole.” Tim said, sweeping a blanket onto the crime lord. “Oracle’s got Steph covering your routes until you’re better.”

Somehow, surrounded by his brothers, Jason finally found the energy to fondly flip them the bird and fall asleep.

[ifyoucandaniel]

I want to thank you for making your list of recommended long batfam fics. I have been making my way through it and I am really enjoying them! ESPECIALLY cards on the table (I also love Dark Matter but I had already read it). Please let us know if you ever get more long batfam fic recs 🥺

okay so ive been waiting to answer this until i had gathered a good chunk of new long fics and ive been getting a lot of similar messages asking for recommendations, so here is another list of my fav long batman fics!

Jason and the Three Terrors by @cdelphiki, 220k, ongoing, T. if i can get you to read one thing, let it be this. ohhh my god where to even begin, this is a fic where jason stays with the league after his dip in the lazarus pit for a little while and winds up being charged with getting damian, his cousin, and his sister out of the league safely. this fic is just so fucking good, cdelphiki always writes such seamless relationship growth and watching jason go from "im dropping these brats off first chance i get" to "im a single mother of three and i need to provide for my kids" is phenomenal. 1000/10, the writing, the kids, the relationships, please do yourself a favor and read this.

A Collision of Masks by Movaz, 169k, completed, T. !! guys. this is such a good dick grayson-centric fic. this is set in an AU where batman never joined the justice league so the justice league knows very little about batman inc. and consequently dick never joins YJ so the YJ team is tasked with checking out a new hero called nightwing in bludhaven and police officer grayson is tasked with helping the team in their investigation :) really good fic exploring dick juggling all his identities and finally gaining people he can rely on! i actually did a bind of it so you know i love this story so much

Life Happens by @cdelphiki, 176k, complete, G. ok so this fic is probably one of the most beautiful stories of growth and love i've read. its about tim and damian being transported from their world into ours where they're only comic book characters and they start to build a life for themselves here. cdelphiki is one of the most amazing authors, im currently going through all of their works, but this one has just stayed with me and i dont think anyone should pass it up. watching tim and damian grow together and seeing damian have a real childhood and just the whole concept of life happening wether you want it to or not is so beautifully done. cannot recommend enough.

Honoring Promises by LananiA3O, completed, 14k, T. okay this isnt actually a long fic, but its one of my favorite fics ever and i need it on this list. if you're like me and you love UTRH aus where instead of sticking around as red hood after bruce threw a batarang at his throat jason fucks off and disappears to live a normal life, this is for you. from dick's pov, he realizes jasons last letter was a last attempt at reaching out and stalks him until he finds out what really happened to his little brother. i think about this every day and wish it was 10000 words long

The Time Before by @cdelphiki, 80k, completed, G. at this point this is basically just a cdelphiki fic rec lmao when i said everything by them was good, i meant that shit. this is a fic where jason is sent back into time when he was 9 years old but still has all his memories from the future. he goes to bruce for help despite wanting to do literally anything else and is surprised to realize maybe everything isn't how he remembers it 10 years in the future and maybe theres a chance he can go home when hes older again. once again cdelphiki hitting me in the feels with this one, really amazing study on how time and pain can change how you perceive and remember things and also just forgiveness and fixing mistakes and accepting mistakes were made. very good, highly recommend

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by Sophene, 80k, completed, batlantern, T. I have no excuse for this, this is such a fun and funny fic i love it so much. basically HOA president single dad bruce with his 10 million adopted kids and then hal jordan moves in next door and plays his music too loud at 10pm on a school night and throws parties and bruce has a stick up his ass about it. i really really love the shift in hal when kyle comes to live with him as his ward (? i cant actually remember if hes adopted or just a ward) and seeing him finally understand why bruce acts the way he does when it comes to his kids. also seeing bruce just being a tired dad 90% of the fic when he isnt glaring at hal is so good.

Option C by CasualGeek, 78k, completed, T. this has, in my opinion, a very unique and interesting premise. basically, what if instead of becoming red hood, jason comes back to gotham and manages to get Joker put on trial for the murder of sheila haywood and get the insanity plea thrown out. really interesting approach to batman and joker and jason technically doing things through the legal justice system and what that means for him and the people around him. very good, read it all in one sitting

butcherbird, fly away home by e_va, 41k, completed, M. lost days jason todd loml! basically what if when jason was off on his world tour one of his tutors kidnapped bruce wayne and jason has feelings about it against his will. "what if lost days jason was stuck in the same room as a sick bruce for more than 10 minutes and actually had to talk to him without punching him" AU and i throughly enjoyed it. @darlingatlas recommended this one and she never misses with the jason recs

this kind of weather by r_astra, 55k, completed, T. this is the fic something in the static was originally inspired by and if you know me, i love that series, and i love this fic too. another what if jasons mom didnt die until later and social services gets involved before he can bolt and bruce seeks him out with some very interesting news. i love fics that display jason’s relationship with crime alley and him being one of them. very good, i love jason so much

ok now these aren't actually long fics but i need to get them out here because i love them so much and highly recommend!

To My Brother by a_silly_gander, 7k, completed, T. Lost days jason au where he starts sending post cards from his travels to dick on a whim while we follow his time away and the people he meets. i love this one so much, please read it if you love jason and dick, its so special to me.

Enhanced Fashion Sense is a Perk of Being a Cat by 12pt_timesnewromanfont, 23k, complete, G. selina breaks into drake manor to steal a cat artifact and accidentally meets the drakes ten year old son they left home alone. then she starts keeping tabs on him and eventually adopts him and makes him stray. i really love selina finding tim before bruce and taking care of him <3 10/10 i wish selina would adopt me

[gay-dorito-dust]

Running Jason a warm bath after a long night and washing his hair for him 😩

Just taking care of my babygirl, as god intended 🤣 and I didn’t know how to end this one cuz I suck at endings amongst other things. 🦦

‘You know you didn’t have to do all this for me sweetheart, I can run my own bath.’ Jason said upon entering the bathroom with a tired smile.

‘Yes I am very aware of that, but as your partner I should be allowed to take care of you once in a while, especially considering how reliant you’re being on that there doorframe for the past five minutes.’ You pointed out to him, smiling upon seeing him try to alter his stance but it was already too late. You knew that tonight’s patrol was a rough one from the look of exhaustion upon Jason’s face, right down to the sound of his voice and mentally thanked yourself for running that bath beforehand as you dipped a hand in the water to make sure that it was still the perfect temperature; humming in satisfaction when it was.

‘It wasn’t that bad.’ Jason defended and when you looked over at him with an expression that told him that you didn’t quite buy into that excuse, he truly believed in that moment that you could see right through him as he sighs. ‘Okay it was bad but-‘

‘No buts, strip and get in the bath.’ Your demand cuts him off as you pointed towards the bathtub and yet despite being worn out, Jason still found it in himself to want to tease you a little. By raising both brows and as a smirk blossomed across his lips he innocently asks. ‘What, no foreplay? Didn’t know this was going to be one of those nights, sweetheart. Though then again I know that seeing me shirtless is your weakness.’ You playfully smacked his arm, trying your hardest not to give him the satisfaction of being right as he swiftly removed the top layer of his clothing before getting to work on the bottom half.

‘Don’t flatter yourself Jaybirdie.’ You replied, moving your gaze elsewhere in the bathroom as the sound of clothes hitting the floor reached your ears until that sound was replaced by bare feet walking towards the bathtub, only to stop once behind you as you felt Jason’s figure looming over you, his breath fanning the back of your neck. ‘Don’t need to when you already do that in the first place.’ He whispered in your ear cheekily before kissing your temple.

‘Just get in the bath dummy.’ You said softly and Jason laughs but does as you ask.

God you hated that man so much for being a pain in your ass sometimes and yet you love him even more for it also.

‘Aren’t you going to join me babe? There’s enough room for two.’ Jason says as he allows himself to become relaxed in the warm, slightly lavender scented water, looking as though he was going to fall asleep right then and there with how hard he fought to keep his eyes open. ‘While the offer is tempting, I’m gonna have to pass.’ You knelt beside the bathtub and began to wet his hair, careening your fingers through it in the process, hearing him groan. ‘I want this to be all about you. My beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.’ You add as you reached for the bottled shampoo, lathering a generous amount into your hands before working it into his hair, deeply massaging his scalp.

Jason groans again, pressing his head further against your hands, practically melting under your touch and looking as though he had finally touched heaven. ‘Does it feel good?’ You asked him as you moved your hands to focus on areas you haven’t gotten to yet, intentionally slowing down the pace you’ve set for yourself so that could live in this moment for a little while longer. ‘Feels so good babe.’ Jason purrs, his body having now leant up against the side of the bathtub closest to you. ‘You’re doing such a good job taking care of me. I don’t know what I’d do without you on most days.’

‘You’ll never have to because you’re stuck with me until you grow sick of me big guy.’ You told him and once you were confident that you hadn’t missed a anything, you then began to wash the shampoo out of Jason’s hair, running your fingers through it for shampoo suds you might’ve missed otherwise. ‘I could never get sick of you sweetheart.’ Jason admits, keeping his eyes firmly shut so that no shampoo manages to get into his eyes. ‘If anything I find more things to love you for, things like running me a bath and washing my hair like you are right now.’ He chuckles as he reaches up to grab one of your hands once you were done, kissing the back of it and looking you in the eyes as you instinctively go to cup his cheek.

‘Who’d knew Jason Todd was such a sap.’ You teased, pressing a kiss to his nose and letting out a little surprise squeal when he playfully bit your bottom lip before pulling away.

‘Only for you chipmunk.’ Jason replied. ‘Only for you.’

[lightwing-s]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯 ; 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: you're pregnant. somehow, your baby daddy has to find out about it.

word count: 5,6k warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

a/n: i wrote and rewrote this a lot, and I don't think this is the best I could come up with, but here it is. a lot more angst that previous episodes and I do recommend reading it while listening to The Flame by Valerie Deniz and also Give me Love by Ed Sheeran because I love how emotional that song usually makes me feel. Hope you all enjoy it ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

With a deep sigh, you tried to settle down your nerves. Your hands were sore. Sweaty. Tired of trying. The heaviness still lingered on your chest. The feeling of incoming doom. The air all around was thicker than you’d remembered it for, nearly making it impossible for you to breathe. And you swore to your reflection in the mirror, you were gonna make it through.

It had been three nights since the result. Two days of pain. And one single thought looming in your mind. Pregnant. You’re pregnant. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to think. Sinking into a pit of terror and despair. The idea frightened you, tore you apart. And just thinking of your future, of what was to come from now on, made your head spin.

Today, you forced yourself to forget. Pretend your life was normal, like it used to be. Not Much had changed since you had taken the test three days ago, but to you it felt like everything was different. 

You had skipped the gym the last couple of days, the first time doing it since you could remember, scared to face anybody and them finding out, but also too anxiety stricken to even leave your bed. You felt cramps, but also your stomach turning. You felt nauseous, but you weren’t sure if it was due to your newfound condition, or if it was the anxiety acting out.

Nessie had called, and you gave her some excuse that your boss needed you elsewhere. Another city. A quick work trip, you’d be back soon. At work, you told them you had caught some contagious disease you found on google, and they let you off for the entire week. Thankful for a relatively full pantry, you survived for two days on your own, but you sure couldn’t manage to eat much anyway.

You’ve never lived worst days. You were sure of that. Fear fills you to the brim. Sadness eats you up from the inside. And because of that, you felt even worse. There are so many people who dreamed of being where you were now, of getting a positive. So many have struggled for this. And here you were, ungrateful for yours. But you never wanted it in the first place. Not now, not like this. It didn’t follow your plan. It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t long ago that you were graduating college. And as of this moment, you were a mere assistant, not even a proper writer or a journalist yet like you’ve dreamed since you were little. An assistant. The bottom of the food chain, with still a lot to grow and harvest in your career. You neither had the finances, the stability, nor the time and mental capacity to be raising a baby on your own.

Because you would be raising it on your own, wouldn’t you? Your baby daddy would just disappear, like many others you’ve heard about. He would pack his things and disappear. He would live his life, continue with being young, having fun, while you were left to fend for yourself and your kid. All alone. 

Would you even tell him? Should you even tell him?

Three nights. Three nights of torture. Of overthinking the future and sulking in your bed, your pillow drenched with your tears. You knew you’d go crazy if you kept that going for too long. So, finding some bit of courage, some tiny little ounce of determination, you left your bed that morning ready to forget. Ready to clear your mind, to make it think straight. And then, you wished, you would know what to do.

You showered, ate, did your skincare and put on makeup, and went for a walk around the park. But you just had to step out of your apartment to find someone who made you think instantly of him. Running back inside and leaving your raven haired neighbor staring confused at you, you made a beeline to the bathroom, dropping your entire breakfast in the toilet. 

You had to tell him, hadn’t you? You had to tell Jason. It was the right thing to do, right?

So, here you were. Back at the gym you’d quit a month ago in favor of another. All because of your last encounter. You thought it was the best to be done, remove him entirely from your life so you could be free again. If only you had known then where you’d be a month later, you’d have laughed at the irony the world was throwing at you. You still remembered the times he’d come, praying he didn’t have them changed for some reason. Maybe he wanted to avoid you too. Maybe he had quit. Please, God. Be on my side, only for today.

It had been, perhaps, a full hour since you arrived. Roy had greeted you with a large smile, asking if you were back for good. You couldn’t match his enthusiasm, offering him a poor excuse of your own smile instead. All this time, you couldn’t complete a full set, never mind finish an entire exercise. Your body trembled, not answering you. Too exhausted. The heaviness on your chest helped in weighing you down and making every effort insufficient.

The weights you had tried to use now stood on your feet. Crooked, disordered, unorganized. Then, you found yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and swollen. Your lips were dry and exposed some nervous bite marks you’d been taking off them. There were a few pimples on your forehead, and you had bags under your eyes. In the corner of the mirror, too stood the reflection of the one you’d been looking for.

He chatted with another man. It wasn’t Roy, by the darker hair color and shorter size. Yet it was a face you recognized, but failed to name. Jason looked happy, smiling as he spoke excitedly about something you did not know about. Were you really ready to tell him? Were you okay with ceasing his happiness?

Your eyes lingered on him for longer, and eventually, his eyes found yours. His smile was quickly replaced by a frown. An air of disgust and anger. His tongue poked his cheek, and he rolled his eyes at you. Turning around, he decided that facing the other direction was much better than facing you. Now, his broad back was all you were left to stare at.

You felt the nausea return. Leaving your things behind, you rushed to the restroom. He hated you. He hated you and he was fucking right for it. And what were you thinking? Telling him he was going to be a father, to your baby above all, at the fucking gym?

After dumping your stomach in the toilet once more, you wanted to get out of there. Collecting your things and shoving them inside your bag, you headed out. However, in good old fashion, you felt a body stop as it came in contact with someone else’s. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Eyeing you from above, Jason started to apologize before he could recognize who you were, proceeding to roll his eyes again. You excused yourself, still looking away from him, and his demeanor changed from anger to worry.

“Yn, are you alright?” he inquired, reaching for your arm. You felt your eyes start to burn, the tears finding their way back, and the nausea only got worse. Running past him, all you managed to say was a quick “I’m fine,” before disappearing.

You arrived at his building straight away, using the faint memory of the directions that remained in your brain from the night he brought you here. You were still clad in your gym clothes, not caring to stop at home first, nor remembering to actually do it. But it was fine, because you didn’t sweat anyways. You couldn’t even finish one full exercise in the hour or so you were there. 

So you waited. You waited on the opposite sidewalk, thinking back to the first time you came here. It was almost two months ago, or maybe more, you don’t remember exactly. It seemed longer, though. It all seemed longer. Longer than two months. Longer than three days. It all seemed like an eternity.

The sun waved goodbye on the horizon, hiding between Gotham’s skyline. The weather started to shift, as the warmth of summer slowly gave place to the strong winds and the coolness of the autumn days. The breeze made you wish you had brought a coat or something to keep you warm, the thin gym clothes you wore doing nothing to help you. And so, your body shivered.

Shivered from the cold. Shivered from the fear. The agony you’d so desperately tried to keep away returning back to you. If you went up. If you knocked on his door. If you talked to him, there was no pretending anymore. There was no hiding facts you so wished you could. There was no fighting reality.

A lump formed in your throat, and you tried to swallow it away, to no avail. Your breath, your hands, your legs, your all trembled. Fighting to keep yourself up when all you wanted was to fall down, to curl up under your covers and hide from the world. From the truth.

You thought back to the days when things were easier. To your days at the park, playing around with your friends, the hem of your jeans always dirty from mud, dust or paint. You remembered the days all you had to do was study, your chores, and your drawings. Reading books from sunrise to sundown, or for the entire night. Of when responsibilities didn’t follow you everywhere, and the perspective of the future didn’t break you down.

You thought of your parents. Of how mad they would get. There was always a path to them, a way to follow. A way to live your entire life. Just like they had done theirs. Any step out of that line often led you to trouble. ‘You have to get married to a good and respectful husband. One that will care and provide for you. And then, when the time is right, God will give you children to raise, just like he did to me and your father,’ your mother would tell you. ‘There’s nothing more shameful than a single mother’, were once the words of your father. And the thought of what they’d do to you once they found out had your tears rolling down faster than you could hold them in.

An old lady passed by you, asked if you were okay. You lied, like you’d been doing for the past few days. You weren’t one for lying, never was, and suddenly it was all you did. “Oh dear,” she cooed, and embraced you in an unexpected hug, before her tiny pomsky pulled her away.

Grey took over your surroundings, like one of those movie filters that left everything somber. A single headlight of a motorcycle let you know he was finally here. That the time of truth was upon you. You watched him park his motorcycle like a creep. Hidden in a dark corner, away from his sight. He had showered at the gym, and now wore a different outfit. Sweatpants and a hoodie. 

He looked comfortable. You clearly weren’t. He looked happy. Opposite to you. Were you ready to take all that away from him? To curse him to the same pain and anxiety you were feeling now? 

But you couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t. You needed him. You needed him. You needed him by your side. You need someone, something. Something to tell you everything would be okay. Gathering up all your courage, every bit you could find within yourself, you took one step out of the sidewalk.

A deep breath taken before entering the building, you walked in without ceasing to cry. Each step you took up the stairs was heavy. Heavier than when you were drunk, and heavier than the day you left. Each step was a gulp. Each gulp was a scream inside your brain telling you to turn around. About two or three times along the way you stopped to look down, and wondered what would be of you if you’d just ran away. 

In your mind, you counted each and every step. An attempt to clear it of thought. It obviously didn’t work. Your legs shook and your breathing faltered with the last steps you took to reach the sixth floor. The tears had dried, leaving your skin cold to the touch. You moved on automatic. Everything else you did a blank stain in your memory. 

It was the feeling of the hardwood under your knuckles that brought you back to reality. The hollow sound it made woke you up, showing you’d made it to his door. Your breath got stuck in your throat, and you felt like you could vomit.

He took his time to answer the door. And you wondered if it was a sign to turn around. To leave. But your feet wouldn’t move, even if you screamed at them to do so. The ruffling inside the apartment made your heart jump, beating hard in its place. Your breathing halted, trapped in your larynx, as the tears started rapidly falling down again.

When he opened the door, it was like time had stopped. He assessed you through narrow eyes, still angry at you. You didn’t blame him, not at all.

“They run from you twice and still come right back,” he hissed. His voice was hoarse and monotone, and his eyes found yours in a blank stare. The corners of your mouth fell. Your chin trembled. And had to avert your eyes from him otherwise you’d start sobbing all over again. “Yn,” he called, and his voice didn’t show the hate or disgust anymore. It was worried. It felt pain. Softer and watchfull. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the tears. Trying so hard to keep them in, but the drops that fell beside your sneakers on the floor were a testament of how your body had stopped responding to you a long time ago. Your shoulders shook, and Jason went from worried to desperate. He didn’t know what was going on. But seeing you like this made him freak out.

And suddenly he wasn’t mad at you anymore. In retrospect, maybe he never truly was. But whatever anger, or frustration he had disappeared from his body. You felt his touch on your shoulder, and you imagined he had just put one hand there as a sign of support. You’d be thankful for just that. But then, you felt his arms drawing you close, wrapping around you, until you felt the soft cotton of his hoodie through your cheek.

The tears ran down faster, soaking a spot on the thick fabric. Your loud sobs only made Jason pull you closer, not knowing how, but still trying to call you down. Whatever happened was too bad that you’d run to him of all people, and he felt obligated to help you in any way he could. 

By this point, he was holding you up himself. Your body giving in to the tears. Jason tucked his nose in your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo. He caressed your back, kissed you temple, spread warmth through your body with his own hands rubbing at your arms. However, your tears ceased to stop, making the stain under your eyes enlarge, second after second.

“Yn,” he whispered right into your ear. The air he let out hitting against your skin.

You pressed your eyes shut. The tears that still lingered there being forced out. You tightened your hold on him. He called you again, and forced his neck to get a glimpse of your puffy red eyes.

You didn’t want to let go, but forced yourself to push him away just so you could finally face him. You felt your throat dry, a weak cough trying to fix it up. Jason couldn’t help the quick thought of how pretty you looked when you cried, but he felt so much pain in his chest at the same time that he wished he would never see you like that again.

The first time you opened your mouth, nothing came out of it. Jason’s fingers drew figures on your back, both a distraction and an encouragement. You can do it, you can do it. With another deep, long breath, you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.

“I-I’m…” you started, breathless. A single tear late to fall from your eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s mind went blank. His body was suddenly weightless. The moments past your announcement, a mere stain in his memory. You now sat beside him on his sofa, your hands covering your face as he heard continuous sobs coming out of you. Your knees tight against your chest, and it didn’t bother him you had your shoes on the sofa. Nothing bothered him. Nothing was on his mind. 

Your body quivered, nonstop. His own unresponsive. What the hell did he do?

Pregnant. Eight letters that had the power to change everything. Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his baby.

Jason felt his chest tighten, and breathing suddenly was harder. He tried swallowing the knot in his throat away, but it wouldn’t bulge. Resting his back on the sofa, a hand threading through his hair, he allowed a couple of tears out, rubbing his eyes off any others that dared to hang around.

“Are you sure?” he asked, breaking the prolonged silence with a raspy voice. Moving your head from it’s place buried on your knees, your eyes looked at him with a pain he’d have thought he’d put a knife on your back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he told you softly. “I just want to be sure.”

Straightening beside him, you stared at the cat worriedly looking up at the two humans occupying the sofa. You fiddled with your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your leggings.

“I took a test,” you started to explain. “Three nights ago. And my period was late, and it’s never late. And it’s not like we were careful when we…”

“Not at all.” Jason shook his head. You weren’t careful at all.

The room fell into silence again, the only sounds coming from the cat, now playing between his legs, unaware of the turmoil you’d just caused in his life.

“I’m sorry,” you said, resuming your sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Jason kept saying. He turned on the sofa, sitting in a position he could easily wrap his arms around you once again. “No, Yn. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he soothed.

“Jason,” you called him, your voice broken. “How there’s not? I’m fucking pregnant!”

Jason held you tighter. But the truth was, he might’ve been just as scared as you were. A baby meant a new life, responsibilities. And he was still getting used to being an adult and the responsibilities that came with that. It was all going to change. And he had plans…

The two of you stood there until your sobs had quieted down. You didn’t know how long, but you were grateful he was quiet for the entire time. You were thankful he was quiet instead of  telling you any of the things you’d thought he would. And you were also thankful he didn’t close his door on your face.

“Have you thought…” Jason tried to speak, but his voice kept on breaking. “Have you thought… of all possibilities?”

He hoped you understood what he meant, because he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was a hard thing to ask, but he had to. He didn’t want you to think he was pushing you to it, but he needed to know if it was a possibility too. Jason remembered hearing some friends saying they had their girlfriends do it, that they basically forced them. But Jason would never.

He felt you moving on his chest, pushing yourself away from his body, and his breath halted. “It’s your call,” he whispered. “I’ll be there for any of them.”

You had sat back up, hands tugging at your leggings again while you thought. It took you long to answer. Too long for his liking. But he understood your pace, everything was happening way too fast. You needed to think things through. For some reason, his stomach took turns, making him feel sick as he waited.

“I don’t think I could do it,” you stated, staring blankly at your legs. “I don’t think I could end it.” Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A lightness on his chest he could not name. He nodded, as words didn’t make it out of his lips.

Leaning back on the sofa, you felt his shoulders hit yours. He let out another breath, it was long and you found it hard to read his emotions through it. He was silent beside you, making it even harder for you to guess what was going through his mind.

That’s it, he’s gonna tell you he can’t do it either. He’s gonna leave you alone.

“You just took one test?” he asked after a while. You just nodded. “We should go to the hospital,” he suggested, head turned to watch you. “Get a proper test, just to make sure.”

His suggestion made you hurt. The fact that he doubted you, the fact he thought you’d go to him if you weren’t a hundred percent sure, caused you a pain you did not expect. However, on the other hand, you knew he was right. You had to be certain. False positives happen, right? You could be wrong.

 “Okay,” you agreed weakly, turning to face him after all. “I’ll do it.”

It might have been the uncomfortable chairs or the freezing air conditioning, but the time didn’t seem to pass. It was well over an hour since you’d arrived at the hospital, and you’d stopped counting how much you’ve waited for your test results to come out. They said between thirty minutes to an hour, but you were sure it had been longer than that.

While you remained seated for most of your wait, Jason was restless. He stood up and sat down more times than you remember, and he was seriously starting to piss you off with his pacing. Stopping in front of a snack machine, he put some dollar bills in it and took something with him before walking back to you.

Stretching his arm in front of you, he offered both a granola and a Snickers bar. In no mood to be healthy, even though your possible new condition sort of demanded that from you, you took the chocolate gladly.

Jason dropped down on a chair beside you with a huff, and took a bite of the granola bar with a certain annoyance. You were both tired of waiting, that was for sure. The agony you’d felt earlier had simmered down, but you too now sat restless, one of your legs shaking incessantly.

It was involuntary, but Jason’s hand on your knee made it stop. It lingered there for a while, fingertips gracing over the thin fabric and tugging at it just like you had been doing before. You saw his head move, and so did yours, catching his eyes. 

Your expressions had been everywhere tonight. The whirlwind of emotions you had gone through justifying each and everyone of them. But this time, his eyes bore into yours much softer, sweeter than they’d been before.

“Yn,” he called your name as if you hadn’t been staring down at him for what seemed like forever. “Whatever happens. Whatever the results say. I’ll be here, alright? I won’t leave you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your eyes tearful once more, but this time you managed to hold them in. You gave him a soft smile, and you were really glad he was here with you now. Putting a hand on top of his, he flipped it over so you could interlace your fingers, caressing its back with your thumb just like he was doing to you.

It was then that your name was called, both of your heads snapping in the reception desk’s direction. Jason stood up and walked over, grabbing a single piece of paper before walking back to you with even taking a glance at it.

When he sat back, he offered you his opened hand. You intertwined your fingers, and held his with both your hands, taking it closer to your heart this time. You couldn’t deny the tiny bit of hope lingering inside you that, just perhaps, you were actually wrong. You weren’t pregnant. But, over the hours, you’d also grown accustomed to the idea. He opened the results with between his thumb and pointer finger, and both your eyes fell on the big letters found on top of it. 

Positive. Again. It was positive. You were truly pregnant. 

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from returning. Jason’s hold on you tightened, and you could sense the tension on him returning. He buffed some air out through his mouth, taking another deep breath before doing the same thing again.

“That’s it,” his voice was shaky. “You’re really pregnant.” He forced himself to smile, and you tried to do the same. To no avail. His eyebrows furrowed. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. “I just wanna go home. It’s been a long night.”

“Okay,” he said softly, standing up and walking with you hand in hand till you left the hospital.

The parking lot was almost empty, and you found Jason’s car sitting isolated far ahead. The silver Toyota Supra shone under the faint light of a lamp post, and you remembered how surprised you were to find him driving it. It finally occurred to you that other than his name and his gym membership, you knew nothing about the man you were about to have a baby with.

He didn’t know you either. Gosh, you didn’t know a thing at this point. About him, about pregnancy, about babies and having children. He asked you ‘what now?’ and you didn’t even have an answer. How the hell were you going to do it?

When he felt your fingers leaving his, Jason immediately turned to face you. Frozen in place and flooded eyes.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you said breathlessly. “Jason, I don't think I can do it. I never wanted kids. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I didn’t want it now. I wanted to do it all right. This is not it.” You cried once again, rambling the words that left your mouth. Jason had walked over to you, trying to calm you down and wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t know anything about babies. I’ve only babysat before, but they were much older. And even my nephew, I didn’t meet him until he was, like, six months old. And I don’t know shit about pregnancies. I hated biology. I slept a lot during classes.”

“How can we do it? I barely know you. Gosh I don’t even know your surname, Jason. You’re what, Jason fucking Linetti? How can we have a baby together without knowing each other? We’re supposed to build a family together. A family. My family… I-I never had a family. Not really. I didn’t want a family, Jason. Not now. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, stopping your rambling. He cupped your cheeks with both his hands, holding your face. His forehead rested on yours, forcing you to stare him in the eyes. “I also don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do. For fucks sake, Yn. But we have time. The baby is not gonna come tomorrow. We’ll figure things out. Together.  We have each other, alright? You have me. I’ll be here, with you, all along. You don’t have to worry. We’ll learn how to do this together, and with time. Okay?”

Jason’s dark eyes passed you enough confidence to have you thinking that, maybe, possibly, he was right. You could actually do it. The baby isn’t coming tomorrow, you have time. You’ll figure things out. With Jason. Together.

Slowly, you nodded. You could do it, right?

Jason sighed, relieved you actually believed him, because as of right now, he himself was struggling to do so. Giving your head a long kiss, he pulled you into a hug before pulling away to open his car door to you to enter. Dropping on the driver seat beside you, you desperately waited to get back home.

“I’m Jason Peter Todd. I’m 22 years old. A leo. I work as an exercise physiologist, but I want to be a doctor someday. So I’m working on getting into med school soon. I love motorcycles, they are fucking cool and driving them makes me feel free. I have probably over twenty tattoos and my favorite book is probably Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”

“What was that for?” You gave him an amused smile.

“You said you didn’t know me or my surname. Now you do, and you can say you know a little. If you want my social security number too, it’s 108…”

“It’s okay,” you laughed, softly, for the first time in three days. “I guess knowing your surname is fine for now.”

He gave you a smile, but raised one eyebrow at you. Confused, you frowned, trying to understand what he meant until he pointed at you with his head, leading you to do the same as he did.

“Okay,” you started. “I’m Yn Sn. I work at Runaway Magazine as Sandra’s assistant, but I really want to be a journalist. I don’t have any tattoos because I’m afraid of needles, and I can’t choose a favorite book because I like too many.”

“Nice to meet you Yn Sn,” he greeted, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Jason Todd. Now can you please take me home. I’m exhausted.”

“Alright,” he gave you a smirk. “Do you remember the address this time?”

He insisted on walking you to your door, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe. You didn’t know where he thought you could disappear to between the sidewalk and your apartment door, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to enjoy his company. 

The elevator ride was silent, and neither of you spoke as you tried to unlock your front door.

“Thank god,” you said. Relief spread through you as the door opened and you got into your home. Immediately taking off your sneakers, you placed them by the door so they could keep it open for you. Looking back at Jason, who still didn’t dare step inside your apartment, you managed to give him a thankful smile. “And thank you too, Jason.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s not even the least I can do, it’s my responsibility now.”

“But still, thank you. There were many ways out for you, and you took none,” you explained, resting your shoulder on the door frame.

“Yn, you didn’t make this baby alone” he began. “I saw your state when you knocked on my door, and I also made you a promise. I don’t usually break them.”

For a brief minute, you two stood in silence again. Eyes lingering over each other. A recognizable tension in the air. You averted your eyes from him, as warmth engulfed your cheeks, the painted nails on your toes suddenly a lot more interesting to you.

“I’ll be going then. Call me if you need anything, alright?” he said, already halfway to the elevator.

“Jason,” you called and he turned back. Hopeful. “Do you even have my number?”

He stopped to think, and a dumb smile appeared on his face upon realizing he had never asked you for your number, nor did he ever give you his. Taking his phone out of his sweatpants pockets, he handed it to you. “If you don’t mind. I think I really should have your number.” He combed a hand through his hair.

You typed in your phone number, trying to think of what to write your name as, but concluding your name would be just fine. You gave yourself a call so you could save his too later, and returned him his cellphone.

He awkwardly waved you goodbye, and called the elevator that opened up instantly, not having left your floor since you had gotten home. You watched him as the door began to close, head hanging low and a tired demeanor. 

“Jason?” you called again, and he put his hand on the door just as it was about to fully close. It opened again, and he placed his hands on each side of the door frame. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Stop thanking me,” he laughed and now allowed the door to close.

You stood there, dumbfoundedly watching the closed door as you swiftly repeated the entire night in your head. Every moment of pain, despair and torture morphing into nervous expectation of the future that was about to come.

You didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it. An entire day was already enough, you needed rest.

A rumbling beside you grabbed your attention, and your head turned to your friend’s door. Nessie poked her head out, clearly surprised to see you there.

“Weren’t you on a trip?” she asked, and you shook your head, leaving her a lot more confused.

“There’s so much we need to talk,” you sighed, allowing your weight to fall on her as you engulfed her in a tight hug.

.

.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

[ivysangel]

hello angel 💕

as much as i love confident, cocky jason in bed, i also think he doesn’t have a lot of experience (just go with me here). between dying young and his all consuming question for revenge, i don’t think he’s actually had that many sexual partners or relationships. simply where would he find the time? like he’s familiar with the mechanics, knows what feels good and how to make a partner feel good, but he doesn’t really have a frame of reference for his preferences.

but that’s the exciting part! he gets to discover what really turns him on and gets him off with you! he figures out that he likes pinning you down and immobilizing you with his body but that ropes are a no go. that fucking you through at least four of your own orgasms first has him cumming so hard there’s stars in his vision. that he doesn’t like pain unless it’s from your nails clawing up his back. everything’s up for grabs and you get to figure it all out with him.

sunnie (@fic-over-cannon)

let out audible noises reading this...my entire body is tingling sunnie like you just CANNOT do this to me. i really don't even...how do i add to this??? what do i say other than i love you!!!!

this basically being the precursor to confident jason?? the first time you guys have sex, it's pretty vanilla, he makes you cum regardless, and it's still amazing and better than most guys with experience, but you can tell he's still a bit unsure of himself. he still hesitates to move too quickly, he's still scared to hurt you, and he still asks, "is this okay?" and "does this feel good?" but not in a sexy "i want to hear you" kinda way, in an "i'm worried i'm doing a bad job" kinda way.

like i said, the sex was never bad, but boy, does it get better when he discovers what he likes. you're play fighting when he finds out he likes it when you can't move under him. he's got you pinned between him and your living room carpet, trying to get out from his hold, and he's literally got a growing boner pressed into you through his pants. ropes are a no-go because not only does he have awful memories associated with them, but the prospect of not being able to touch you and you not being able to touch him pisses him off.

he finds out he likes it when you leave scratches on him one random night after you successfully sneak out of a wayne enterprises gala. expensive shoes and an even more expensive dress on the floor, but those pretty red nails you'd gotten on a whim stay attached to your fingers, leaving bright red lines up and down his back.

he likes it when you wear lingerie but thinks it's hotter when you wear cute matching pajama sets. he's fond of red, but green's his favorite color; you have to stay vigilant with birth control around christmas time. he'll never do public places but a bathroom or car here and there he won't say no to. he likes sex in the morning and in the shower. he likes it in the kitchen and on the couch but prefers the bed. he's not opposed to the floor, but he'll only do it there when he's desperate.

he gets turned on when you show interest in his hobbies and even more turned on when you talk about yours. he likes overstimulating you but not to the point where you're in pain, and he loves getting head but loves eating you out more.

his biggest turn-on is verbal consent; he wants to hear that you want him, and if you want him to do anything unconventional in any way, that's how you go about it. tell him in the middle of dinner how badly you need him, and he'll politely excuse you from the table, drive you guys a few miles away and then pull over and fuck you silly.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Remember 🥷🏻

⚣🥷🏻A/N → This was a bit of a challenge for me for some reason. Maybe it's because we still don't know how exactly Jason died or what he was like when he was on the team so I had to go off what we know about Jason already. Plus, the fact that he doesn't have his memories really got my creative juices flowing. I did not proofread thus like the others cause I'm trying to focus on finishing my other fics. Also, here it is again for you @acoustickitten Anyways... WARNINGS: Emotion & Angst, Mentions of Death, NSFW warnings included on Patreon NSFW Version Here👈🏽

⚣🥷🏻Summary → When Jason died, your world fell apart. You and he had a special bond that you didn't share with anyone else on the team. So, when the chance to be reunited with him came as an invitation to Ra's Ah Ghul's island, you quickly took the chance to be with your old teammate, friend, and crush. Only you didn't expect to find him different than you remembered.

⚣🥷🏻Words → 4.2k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🥷🏻

You were so glad you hadn’t given up.

When your previous team appeared on Infinity Island to rescue their friends, the Red Hooded Ninja battled with Nightwing, your old leader and friend. Ra’s ordered you to stay out of sight, as he didn’t want your former teammates to know you were here yet. Your mission was too important for them and yourself. So, you watched from one of the windows as your friends fought with your League allies.

Back in 2013, you had been recruited to the team by the Justice League when they discovered you on the streets of your city fighting crime with your meta-abilities. You could see into and read people’s thoughts, much like Miss Martian. Except your powers seemed to be stronger, seeing that you had the ability to control and enter someone’s mind at will and manipulate their thoughts. Along with flight force-field manipulations, you were quite the adversary. So when Batman, Captain Marvel/Shazam, and Black Canary showed up one day to offer you the chance to use your powers in a team environment, you figured, why not?

You were alone, having lost your family at a young age, and your adoptive family wasn’t much better, seeing you and your abilities as freaky. They just wanted to get whatever money they could off of you. So you accepted their offer and took on the mantle of ‘Psicon.’ Besides, living in the Cave was awesome. The Team was way more welcoming, and you felt like a part of a family for the first time, growing a special relationship with one of the members, Jason Todd, aka Robin.

Both of you and Jason had similar backgrounds and connected from that. The team often joked that the saying was true opposites attracted because you two couldn’t be more different from each other. Strong in your own rights, you were reserved, while he was outgoing. You thought with a slow, calculative mind, and he was impulsive. You were no pushover, but you mostly kept your thoughts to yourself, whereas he was very outspoken.

But, you found joy in your differences with each other. You shared similar interests and grew a strong bond. Over time, your feelings became less platonic and more romantic, which your friends loved to tease you for. Dick, Kid Flash, aka Wally, and Artemis mainly, before the latter two left the team for college. 

You hadn’t known if Jason felt the same towards you, but Dick encouraged you since the two had a special relationship, both being Batman’s sidekicks and sharing the mantle of Robin. Not at the same time, of course. When Dick picked up the mantle of Nightwing, Jason had become the new Robin.

You were planning to confess your feelings to Jason but never got the chance. 

A mission you weren’t on had gone left, and though you never found out what had went wrong, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened when everyone had returned except for Jason. Dick tried to comfort you as he felt your pain, along with Batman, but it did little to help. You were heartbroken. 

Jason was the only one who knew your history, as you hadn’t told anyone else. He knew some of your deepest secrets and insecurities had helped you through dark moments, and now he was gone. And it wasn’t just for you, as your friends and teammates had noticed your impact on him.

Maybe that’s why some had joked about how Jason held a soft spot for you. He was always nice to you, of course. But, he always had a level of sass and bluntness he’d give others but never towards you. Your friends, even Bruce, had mentioned how they saw that you’d tapped into a more gentle side of Jason none of them ever could see or would be allowed to see, at least.

So, no. Dick couldn’t understand where your pain. No one could. 

After that, a distance grew between you and the team since everyone refused to tell you what had happened. Then, in 2015 a little over a year later, Batman recruited a new Robin, Tim Drake, and you had fucking lost it at that point.

Furious at Bruce and Dick for being so willing to replace Jason, you went off on them, feeling they had dishonored him. Your teammates tried to calm you down, but your fury had been on a different level none of them had seen before. Even Conner was unsettled at the rage spilling off you, being considered the literal definition of anger issues himself. It was safe to say you had no relationship with Tim. While you weren’t hostile or bitter towards him, you had no incentive or want to build a friendship.

At some point, you received a mysterious envelope. Where it came from, you didn’t know, but what was inside it had your attention immediately. It was a letter asking for your aid in an important matter. And whoever wrote it apparently had particular need of your ‘talents.’ You were prepared to ignore it until you saw another note inside, only it wasn’t a note at all. It was a picture, a recent one.

Jason.

He was alive. You could tell cause he looked a bit older than the last time you saw him. Though, just by looking at the picture, you could see something was off. That usual egotistic but confident spark you always noticed in his eyes wasn’t there. Both the corners of his mouth were straight instead of one side upturned up a bit, leaving him with his natural smirk. 

In truth, his blank gaze at the camera caused an unsettled chill to go through you. It was as if you were looking at a ghost of Jason instead of an alive one.

But it was him.

He was alive somewhere, and after so long of only feeling hollow and numb where your heart should be, you felt it stirring in your chest again.

You didn’t know if the others knew, and you weren’t planning on telling them. You’d contemplated leaving the team for some time, and Tim’s recent addition only made that decision easier for you. So the next day, when everyone was asleep, you packed your clothes and disappeared that night, not saying goodbye to anyone.

That’s how you ended up with the League of Shadows and the Al-Ghul family on their island. When you saw Jason for the first time, you wanted to run to him, hug him, and sob into his shoulder. Part of you didn’t believe he was alive, needing hard proof of living flesh in front of your eyes. Truly enough, even looking at him, your mind still couldn’t believe he was there. He still had that strange blank look on his face, though. When you first entered the room, he stared at you, which creeped you out even more now that it was in person.

You found out Ra’s and his family were the ones who recovered Jason’s body and had used the infamous Lazarus Pits to revive him, and while the pit’s healing and life-restoring abilities did that, there were consequences. He explained that the Pit tampered with Jason’s mind, sending him into a feral and almost animalistic state, and though they tamed him, his mind was scattered, and memories were gone.

That’s where you came in. Your telepathic abilities had been recognized exceptionally for their strength, surpassing M’Gann’s powers. With your ability to enter and manipulate minds, Ra’s suspected you could restore Jason’s memories, bringing him back to himself.

At first, you were unsure since you didn’t know the consequences that could come if you tampered with his thoughts. When you’d voiced these concerns, Jason had turned his head to you, a curious gaze replacing his blank expression. Ra’s and Talia observed, speechless as he made his way to you, head tilting in confusion as he stared into your eyes. You didn’t move, watching his hand come up to your face and one of his fingers slowly caressing down your cheek.

“Psi…con.”

It was your turn to be speechless. You felt tears come to your eyes and shut them, attempting to hold yourself together. It was too much. Clenching your fists at your side, you choked on a gasp as you forced yourself not to cry. Even Talia felt a bit emotional at the sight of your grief, though she didn’t show it, remaining poised as ever.

“Ah, it would seem your presence has already triggered a spark in his mind. You two must have had a significant connection for him to recall your name.” Ra’s pointed out, eyeing you with an intrigued look.

It didn’t take much convincing after that.

“I’ll do it.” You stated with no hesitation in your voice.

That same smile Ra’s held when you agreed was the same one on his face now in 2019 as you and Talia holding baby Damian had come out just in time to see the Bio-Ship flying off to hear Jason uttering “Gray…son” in a slow, and almost zombie-like speech.

You had begun to lose hope. Jason, now the Sensei’s Red-Hooded Ninja, was trained as a guard and protector. He was no longer of a feral and animalistic sense of mind but more of a living, mindless zombie, understanding and taking directions well. However, the sessions he had with you were not making much progress. 

Every time you’d gotten close to having a breakthrough or found what you thought was a crack in the haze around his mind when working, you got shut out. It was as if something was trying to keep you from getting to Jason’s inner mind and releasing his memories, and you didn’t think there would be much you could do anymore, as nothing seemed to be working.

So, expectedly, you felt your heart pause and your body still when you heard him. Barely feeling like you could move, tears had once again come to your eyes at hearing the first word in the four years you’d worked in healing Jason’s mind.

“Ah, your memory is finally returning. Excellent.” Ra’s said before he turned in your direction, nodding for you to come to his side. “Your work is starting to pay off. I’m aware of your frustrations in this quest, but tonight has proven your efforts are not in vain. I want you to continue your sessions more frequently. This could be the start of him fully regaining his mind.” You nodded your head before turning back to walk inside, Jason trailing behind you from Ra’s order.

He followed you to your room, where you went inside and rummaged through your drawers before finding the desired items. You turned to see him standing in the middle of the room, the red glow from his robotic eye mask bright in the moonlight from your window.

“Please, sit.” You asked.

In your sessions with him, you always spoke with a gentle tone. You didn’t want to command or order him around like the others. You communicated with Jason as you always had before, hoping it’d bring familiarity and comfort. Over time, it seemed to work. Jason notably sought you out whenever something distressed him. For whatever reason unbeknownst to you, this had pleased Ra’s.

Even if you were having little success restoring Jason’s mind, Ra’s had noted that while everyone else had Jason’s obedience, you held something more precious, his loyalty and trust.

Tonight, you hoped you’d found what you needed to achieve that first and ultimate objective. When your old teammates showed up, and you watched Nightwing and Jason battle, it reminded you of the old days before he had died. You three goofing around in the control room during sparring and training.

After hearing him utter Nightwing’s name and thinking back to the first time he uttered your old superhero name, it hit you like a ton of bricks. 

Those moments were all triggers for Jason. Things that evoked emotion and nostalgia from him, like when someone smells a dish their grandparent used to make when they were a kid or hearing a song that reminded them of a special moment. 

It made you remember a comment Jason once made about how when you talked, it calmed him. He said how he found your voice relaxing and that he could just listen to you speak about whatever, and it would bring him peace. Not really knowing what he meant by it, you remembered very well how it made you feel and how it still makes you to this day.

Thinking back to the night you came to the island, you realized Jason hearing your voice had been his first trigger, which helped him remember your retired name. Fighting with Dick brought back the nostalgic feeling of when he used to spar with him in the control room, helping him remember his name.

So, you intended to create more triggers. Whatever prevented you from fully accessing Jason’s mind and releasing his memories was obviously weak to emotional pulls. Those pulls could come from anything that held a feeling of significance or nostalgia in his memories.

Grabbing what you needed, you joined Jason on the ground, crossing your legs before placing everything in front of him. You had a small collection of Jason’s things he’d given you or stuff you had borrowed from him and forgotten to give back. You had some of his favorite books, old batarangs, and even one of his eye masks from his Robin costume.

He looked at everything on the ground, picking some things up and observing them before placing them back down.

You’d tried this tactic before, but with your discovery, you figured maybe there was something you needed to do or say to help spark something. Jason thumbed through some books and messed with the Batarang a little, but you had to be careful since you weren’t sure if it was one of the ones that could explode.

When he picked up the eye mask from the Robin costume, his head tilted while looking at it before turning to you and holding it between his hands, making you grin at his adorable confusion.

“It’s your old mask. It goes over your eyes. Here, I’ll show you.” You explained, holding your hand out, allowing him to place it in your hand.

You brought it up to your face and put it on before showing him, “See? Like the one you have on, it goes over your eyes.” You said.

Jason stared back at you before he looked down and pointed at the space next to you. Realizing what he was asking, you nodded, “Yeah, you can sit next to me.” You expressed, patting the spot next to you

He got up before moving to the spot and placed himself back down before turning to look at having to tilt his head down slightly. He pointed to the mask on your face, silently asking for it. When you took it off and handed it to him, he just looked down at it, turning it to study it from all different directions.

“Do you want me to help you put it on?” You offered.

He turned his head to you, that glowing robotic mask staring at you before you saw him slowly nod. Turning your body to face him a bit more, you reached your hands up slowly, “May I?” You asked, referring to his current eyewear.

He paused for a moment before nodding. Gently placing your hands on the sides of his head, you grabbed the mask and lifted it from his face, able to see his blue-green eyes, taking time to enjoy them since it was rare you ever got to see them. He rarely removed his mask, and only when you were doing intensive work with your telepathic powers on him did he sometimes remove it.

You were caught in his gaze as well as he was with yours. For a moment, it felt like you were back in 2013 before everything had gone wrong, and it was just you and Jason, staying up at night talking about anything and everything that came to your mind. The memories brought some tears to your eyes, and you were shocked to feel a finger come up to one of them. Jason was looking down at you, and though he mostly still held a blank expression, you could see underneath a bit of concern etched into his gaze.

“I’m okay.” You assured, or at least attempted to.

Wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your robes, you gave him a quick smile, which seemed to relax him. You hadn’t even noticed he was tense.

He turned back to look at the mask before slowly placing it on his face. A bit smaller now since he’s grown, it was like you were looking at him as the day you last saw him. You loved how his hair was still slightly curled over his forehead with the mask, not being able to notice it as much when he wore his ninja hood.

You raised your hand slowly to his face, pressing your palm against his ear. Whether or not he snuggled into your hand was totally not important and did not cause swooning in your gut.

Alright, you’re a liar. But you’ve been through a lot these past few years. You’re allowed to have this moment.

“Okay, Jason. We’re going to do what we do in every single session. But, this time. I’m going to project some of my memories into you. Is that okay?” You asked. Consent is key.

He nodded his head after a moment, training his eyes on you as you closed yours. He kept focusing on you while you channeled your memories into your hands to pass on to him. Eventually, he closed his eyes, welcoming your power into his head.

There were flashes of different moments from your past, all relating to you and him. Some were moments of you guys training together in the sparring room with Dick. There were times of you two together on missions, and one particular memory when Jason’s big mouth got you both into a less-than-desirable situation once again. But he managed to get you out of the sticky mess by using said big mouth again. That memory always brought a smile to your face. You remembered being so mad at him and then laughing at it like madmen when you returned to the Cave.

In each of these memories, Jason was wearing the mask. It was a part of his identity. Not just as Robin, Batman’s sidekick, but as Jason Todd. The boy who just wanted someone to care about him.

Suddenly, your head flooded with more memories, some you recognized as not your own. In your physical body, you could feel Jason tensing in front of you, shouting out in pain. It was working!

You managed to unlock part of Jason’s memories. Concentrating, you could see some of these moments from his past. And to your shock, they all seemed to involve—you. You saw the first day you’d met the team and Jason for the first time. You’d thought he was an obnoxious little twat, emphasis on the little since you were taller than him at that point, and you had voiced this thought as well. Over time, he caught up with you. And now, he’s got a few inches over you.

“Did this nobody just call me a little twat?”

That wasn’t your voice, nor was it your words. You did call Jason a twat that day, but you’d never call yourself a nobody.

You caught another memory of when you and he were with the team fighting against Dr. Ivo and Amazo. That fight left many bruises on your body since Ivo had decided to make some upgrades. When Amazo managed to get your powers and use them against you, it’d trapped you in your thoughts, torturing you with some of your worst memories. Jason pulled out of there while the others had managed to distract it long enough and eventually take it down. He’d overheard some of what you were crying out about and decided not to push.

When you had returned to the Cave, Jason followed you outside to get some air and think for a moment. You had warmed up to each other a little, and Jason had started telling you about his background and how he came to be Batman’s sidekick. After some contemplation, you told him about your past and how the Justice League found you. He had made a joke saying all you needed was the staircase and a letter from a white owl, and you could be the next Harry Potter.

You punched him in the arm for that joke,

“Hmm, kid’s not as bad as I thought he was. Packs a punch too.”

It took you a minute to realize, but you eventually got it.

These were Jason’s thoughts from those memories you were witnessing, his own inner dialogue. It was interesting to see some of the moments he found precious, things you had never even thought about before or remembered at the very least. And now, you were hearing it from his point of view. You used to always make a joke with him that you’d pay big money to know what he was thinking about sometimes.

“If he knew what I was thinking, I’m sure he’d either smack me or punch me, maybe both. Wouldn’t do anything except make him hotter.”

Pardon? Can we rewind that last part?

Did Jason call you hot? Like hot, as in attractive hot? Or, hot as in, ‘Ah! This bitch is burning. Get them away from me,’ hot?

Looking at Jason’s other memories with you, you could also feel some of his emotions from those precise moments. You felt annoyance from earlier thoughts, typically around the earlier parts of your relationship. Amusement at times when you and he would get into a silly argument. Or when you went on one of your excited rants about something. The further you got along in his mind, the more you felt his feelings change, becoming more intense. Curiosity turning into fondness. Admiration becomes the urge to protect.

A particular memory had caught your mental attention. One that you recognized was about a week before the mission that would ultimately lead to the end of Jason’s life. Dick and Jason were at their house, Wayne Manor, and they were talking while working in the Batcave.

“So, how’s everything between you and Zatanna?” Jason asked while practicing his kicks and punches on one of the training dummies.

“It’s good. She’s still a little upset over Nabu’s refusal to release her father’s body for no more than an hour, but she makes do with it.” Dick said, turning to face him from whatever he was doing on the Bat-Computer.

Things had gone quiet for a moment, Dick looking a little smug before he spoke up, “So, you and Y/N?” He smirked.

You felt a clench in your chest and didn’t know if that came from Jason or yourself.

“Shut up,” Jason said.

“I’m just saying, you two seemed to have gotten really close over the last few months. You’re actually considerate and somewhat respectful when you’re around him too.” Dick commented.

“Fuck you, and again. Shut up.” Jason responded.

Somehow, you could feel the small smile that formed on his face.

“You want my advice—”

“No.”

“Tell him how you feel and ask him out,” Dick continued, ignoring Jason. “And I’d do it soon. You didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard someone else on the team has eyes for Y/N too. So, if I were you, I’d hurry up and take my chances. You never know how long you have until it’s too late.”

An unpleasant toil in your stomach blossomed at that sentence, but you felt curiosity at the same time. You just didn't know if one or both feelings belonged to you or Jason. You did wonder who harbored feelings for you on the team though.

You couldn’t dwell on it any longer though when you were tackled to the ground, forced back to reality. Opening your eyes, you saw Jason on top of you, looking at you with another feral look, only it wasn’t the same as the one he had when you first arrived on the island. This one was wild but in an attractive way. His sea-like colored eyes staring back at you but with a darker look. It had you on edge but also ☀️feeling very hot with how he pinned your arms to the ground.

“I… l-lo– love … y-you.”

Your entire body froze as his head fell against your shoulder. Feeling his chest move against push against your back with his breathing, you could only turn your head slightly to stare at his before he turned to face you. The dark haze in his eyes was now gone, and his blue-green ears were staring back at you with the same adoration you’d always seen before whenever he looked your way.

He remembered you.

☀️ | DC Masterlist | ☀️

☀️ } Masterlists | ☀️

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

- masterlist

disclaimer: these are collections of scenes that happen with one couple within their story / verse, not traditional chaptered fics. you can read them standalone or in whatever order you please. they're organized in chronological order here

and I will do the best I can, with the little that I know tim drake x reader x conner kent - please just stay with me tonight (and please don't let tomorrow come) - this shadow is not my shape anymore (and I fear it will swallow me whole)

bloody nose and a crooked tongue (I always wanted to be someone) tim drake x reader - my life does not belong to me (but these secrets are my own) - these hands may be bloody (but they're still mine and I'm still yours) - have I trapped you in this web of mine? (will you let me pull you out?) - I've let this wolf into my home (I feed it even when it bites) - like a watchdog at your door (like a veil over your heart) - there has never been enough of me (and I have nothing left to give) - this devotion of yours is misplaced (but this love, perhaps, is not)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) damian wayne x reader - like a lamb led to slaughter (my heart held in your hands) - ask me about my sins (and I'll tell you about my love) - reach for me in the dark (and I will always take your hand) - coming soon - is this my soul, still? (is this my ghost, again?) - this goodness hurts (and I'm drowning in it)

comfort came against my will dick grayson x reader - there's nothing here for you (and there's nothing left of me) - I'll find you always (but I'd rather go alone) - nothing in my life is as easy as you (and nothing in my life is as hard) - you've been holding out on me (but I can't find a way to hold onto you) - it isn't always easy (but how lucky I am to be known) - remember me as small (I fear I've swallowed the sun whole)

damn your love, damn your lies roy harper x reader - we're strangers these days (but that has to be enough) - will you come when I call? (will you answer when I beg?) - is there a home here for me, still? (is it the heart inside your chest?)

hope here needs a humble hand platonic bruce wayne x reader, platonic batfamily x reader - it comes and it goes (but it always comes back) - the past is not dead (you buried it while it still breathed) - there's an anger in me (I think I learned it from you)

love is not designed for the cynical jason todd x reader - there is no home for me there (and no solace for me here) - I'm not me anymore (and maybe you're not you) - this pain is inevitable (it sleeps with me while you're elsewhere) - remember me, please (don't let me die a second time) - this may be my grief (but it's you who's made a mess of it) - do you know that I love you? (do you know that that you shouldn't?) - my love has no direction (and my anger is a vice)

let me wrap my teeth around the world poly marauders x reader - I don't know you anymore (maybe I never really did) - please forgive this fear of mine (it used to keep me safe) - there is love in me, I swear (tell me there's something in you, too) - Is there hope in us, still? (is there something worth believing in?) - you are not poison here (and you never really were)

absinthe makes the heart grow fonder rockstar au // poly marauders x reader - you said you'd stay with us (you swore you'd still be you)

this is how it feels to take a fall takami keigo x reader - are we human, still? (have we become something more?) - this sweet plague that follows me (this violence that I call my one)

you will know me, though I have no name kuroo tetsurou x reader x kozume kenma - may I build myself a home here? (may I please call you mine?)

your small hands in the palm of mine gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru - please save me from this light of mine (please stay with me in the dark)

but isn't bite also touch? simon riley x reader - I need an altar to pray to (I need a hand on my shoulder)

this lust is a burden that we both share din djarin x reader - this fear is a part of me (please don't take my hope away)

[k2ntoss]

UNTITLED N°1 !! demon dean

(gif from pinterest, credits to the owner)

tw ⭒ minors dni, SMUT, dirty talk, dean x f!reader, did i already said this is demon dean shit???? i am vibrating on another level istg, fingering (f. receiving), sex toys (vibrator), spanking, oral (m. receiving), p in v, public space, unprotected sex, etc.

a/n ⭒ ian i swear i'll hunt you down for giving me ideas EVERY FUCKING DAY and yeah, implicit the fact of the lipgloss stuff i wrote for jason but a bit different here, it's 1 am and i'm going back home from a party so prob no proof read, shhhh

words count ⭒ 2.505 (at this point i don't even dream of doing something short)

dean was changed since the last time you saw him, right before he received the mark of cain and way before he turned into a damn demon, sam and you looked for him for days until you stumbled with him outside of a night club which wasn't the best situation to find the guy who was supposed to be your boyfriend, the one that once treated you like the most important thing on his life and now only thought of you as another one night stand.

and what are you doing at a night club? well, long night and almost no sleep so you decided to take baby for a ride and maybe look for dean and here you are, standing in front of him while you fight the urge to punch him right across the face when you notice the lipstick smudges he has all over his jaw and neck "you're fucking amazing, dean" the sarcasm that drips from your voice seems to amuse him, dean grins at you with arms crossed over his chest as he walks closer "looks like you can't remember you shouldn't take the things that don't belong to you, sweetheart" he ignores your annoyance completely, walking around you with heavy steps almost as if he was a predator and you were a sick little animal to hunt and torture.

"yeah? i couldn't care less, what the hell are you doing here?" right behind the club the parking lot is almost empty, the led lights drawing shades on your bodies and the muffled music being almost completely hushed by your voice "having fun, can't a man have fun with a bunch of pretty girls? or are you getting jealous?" he has always had a smart mouth but this time his words do hurt a little but they also fuel your anger "you're being an ass, dean" words come out as a growl, avoiding his question because he already knows the answer damn well, it doesn't take humanity to understand that she loved the dean she used to know and that this dean only made her remember him but here again, he couldn't care less about your feelings right now.

"and you're being a pain in the ass, darling" he'll reply once he's in front of you, a devilish smirk on his lips at the same time he leans in making your heart rush because even with dean being a demon there was still an ounce of the man you loved and that minimal part of him still wanted you and only you, it was enough for it to take over and make you notice the glimpse of desire he had, a growing need to press his lips on yours and pin you against the impala, the same one that has already been the place for a good amount of the times you've let yourself melt into each other's touch and oh, if the evil side of dean hasn't used those memories to get off to your vulnerable image when you tremble under your lover. the way he stands so close to you, how he looks at your lips and licks his owns makes you shiver, making your lips part before he gives into your dean's needs; his lips are over yours, a bruising kiss as his hands grip your waist roughly, his touch making you moan from the pain his hands inflicted on your flesh.

once he pulled back you were panting and dean was living for that, his hand ran until it was on your neck "i think i have something in mind that you could enjoy, i miss someone misses fucking you dumb..." he whispers while tilting your head up to make you look up at him, green eyes fixed on yours made feel hypnotized until the point you walked to the passenger seat as dean got behind the steering wheel, the sigh making you even more hungry because the way he drove always made things to you. dean made the engine roar, pulling into the road until you both were sure it was safe to start anything. dean leaned to your side, his arm going behind your sit until he was able to reach a small vibrator he had used before with you, one of your road adventures from the past "are you gonna be good for me?" his voice was filled with a hint of what felt like mischief but also that cockiness that was part of him, you knew that maybe this wasn't the best idea, you should be the one driving to take dean back to the bunker but you mind was full of the bunch of memories of your boyfriend's dick deep inside of you and that was enough to make you forget any other responsability for at least a while, it had been a good long time since the last time you had any kind of sexual interaction thanks to him so, why not take the chance? so you nodded at him, lips pressed in a thin line as you waited for his next move.

there's a smirk on dean's face as he drives single handled, twisting the small vibrator between his fingers, dropping it on your thigh while you shift on your seat "sit pretty and spread those pretty legs of yours for me" he orders simply and you obey, legs spread enough for him to reach with his hand, undoing your belt and buttons before he slides two fingers under your clothes, starting to caress you slowly, torturing he plays with your clit circling over it before he pinches it softly making you moan shamelessly "fuck, dean..." you mutter when one of your hands goes to grab his wrist to make him stop when his fingers circle a bit faster "oh, you're being a little killjoy" he taunts with a click of his tongue but he takes his hand off you to grab the toy, turning it on just to slide it until he's able to press it against your sensitive bud, the vibrations making you gasp and hold onto the leather seat "just as slutty as always, aren't you? bet you've been dreaming about being fucked by me a lot lately" words making you moan and buck your hips, your eyes fixed on his movements when dean takes his hand away again, fingers coated on your wetness which he licks while glacing at you, the action only making you squirm in need of his mouth on you "and also as sweet as always, mhm, i could pull over and eat your pussy but i have other things in mind... close your legs, baby, and don't even think you can cum before i say you can."

with your legs closed the vibrator was pressed a little harder on your clit, it makes you sigh and whimper in the five eternal minutes it takes dean to find a good place to pull over, behind a small bar. he opens the door, getting to the back seat and sitting there, legs spread and his arms across the back of the seat "aren't you gonna come here, baby?" he asks teasingly, of course he was asking you to walk yourself out of the car and to the back seat, shaky legs and overstimulated, cursing him on your mind but still growing needier so when you get off the car and open the back door you can't help but bite your lip when dean is there undoing his belt and taking it off slowly with his eyes glued to you "come here and lay on my lap, sweetheart" he takes your hand in his, pulling you in taking advantage of your weak legs to make you lay on his lap, tummy flat over the seat while your hips rest over his legs when he closes the door before his hand stops on your ass, stroking you softly as he started to pull your jeans down slowly exposing your silky panties, chuckling lowly at the sight of the wet spot between your legs where the vibrator was still making you squirm and moan "so fucking wet, mhm? thought you would be harder to break down... such a easy whore" dean's voice is as rough and low as all the times you've found yourself so needy and hot for him, the big difference was that right now he was indeed a big bad wolf about to eat you alive.

every thought was erased of your head as soon as you felt his belt comming down to hit your ass, making you moan as dean's free hand snaked between your thighs to pull off the vibrator "oh, the little girl enjoys being spanked? you have a pretty sick mind, huh, you like being treated as a slut?" another spank falls on your rear, making you squirm and hold back a loud whimper before you nod "i love it... when you treat me like that" you moan, your reaction brings a wide grin to his face as he lets the leather belt fall again on your ass, the red marks of it standing over your skin as a sing of the way it would bruise by the morning, fuel for dean to keep it up until your cheeks were all red, your hips up with your ass on the air and your eyes teary from how much you needed him "god... dean, please" you beg and he growls at your voice.

"down. on your knees" he is quick to command, making you kneel on the floor, sitting all pretty and obedient between his legs as he undoes his jeans, pulling them down with his boxers making your mouth water at how hard his dick was in front of you "open that pretty mouth of yours, i want to fuck your face" the amount of dirty words turning you, leaning in you place your hands on his thighs while your tongue runs over his lenght tasting him and moaning softly at the way dean is looking at you. the growl he lets out when your lips are wrapped around his tip is gutural, his left hand going to grab a handful of your hair while you suck on him, tiny licks on him that leave your lips shiny from his precum "never thought a slut could look as pretty as you, mhm, those lips all pretty and shiny for me" he says in a low and raspy tone before he pulls your head by your hair, pressing his cock between your lips to make you swallow him right before he starts to move you, his hands making you bob your head causing you to gag and choke. your eyes are closed but it doesn't stop a few tears from falling from your eyes while dean pushes his dick into your mouth, throat fucking you between growls and moans of pure pleasure, smirking each time you gag and chuckling when he lets you pull away to breath but it doesn't take you too much until you're again looking to put his dick into your mouth "oh, baby so hungry... a needy whore that loves choking on my cock"

you whine when dean pulls you away from him, his hand grips your hair to bring you back to his lap but this time he makes you sit with your back pressed against his chest "i need to fuck that sweet pussy of yours, sweetheart, wanna see you ride me like a fucktoy" he whispers into your ear before making you lean forward, your ass perfectly pressed against him and a nice view of your hips and waist when he lifts you up and pulls your panties to the side before pushing his dick inside your snug walls in a rough thrust "so damn thight... gonna make you scream, baby" dean growls while his hands hold your waist to urge you to start moving.

at first you're just grinding your hips against his, feeling his dick moving inside of you in a way that made you moan softly but the need building inside your tummy made your movements change into quick and sloppy hops while you held yourself on the front seats, tits bouncing and your ass slapping against his body "that's a good bunny, fucking yourself on my cock like a good slut" a low moan escapes his lips and his hands are sliding under your black top, lifting the fabric until his hands are squeezing your breasts "you know how i love it when you're not wearing anything under your shirts? love this perfect tits of yours" you moan when his fingers are toying with your nipples at the same time he decides to move his hips to meet your movements, making him reach deeper inside of you.

anyone who came out of the bar sober enough could see what was going out inside of the impala, the sight of you bouncing with your eyes closed and mouth open as you moaned loudly enough to be heard if someone came closer to the car, it only turned you on more and it showed in the way your pussy clenched around dean like a vice, his strokes only going faster and harder when your legs started to fail you to keep on bouncing on him "who would have thought you would like to be seen getting fucked like a whore, mhm, you enjoy the way everyone knows you're getting dicked down so good, baby?" and you nod, your moans making it hard for you to speak properly, dean is laughing at you and it's humillating but it also makes you hornier "dean... i need to cum, please" your pleas are met with a hard squeeze on your tits and a hard thrust "really, bunny?" he asks with a smirk, hands back on your waist before he leans in to press a kiss on your back "do it, baby, cum all over my cock" and it takes you nothing, your pussy is squeezing him hard making a dark growl escape him and you're about to ask him to fill you up when dean lifts you, sitting you on his lap " 'm not filling your greedy pussy, love, not like you deserve it" he grunts, his hand around his dick as he strokes himself.

dean growls behind you, he's fisting his cock and moving his hand using your wetness to make his task easier and the lewd sounds make you eager to feel his hot load wherever he wants to put it on you "mhm, want me to cum on your dirty body, slut?" he asks with a smirk as his hand slows down for a bit "yes, please..." you say softly and it's the only thing dean needs before he cums behind you, white streaks painting your back and ass as he bites your shoulder harshly "there you go, huh... such a nasty whore" dean mutters on your neck, kissing your skin and nibbling on it "the best fuck i've had lately"

[purpleangiie]

So this scene (both in the comics and in the movie) always gets me for obvious reasons, but I think many people don't fully understand it so here's how I see it:

Jason is talking about how he believed Bruce would have reacted to his death: by killing the Joker because he murdered him, because he took him away from him. But the way I see it, the pain is bilateral. Joker took Jason away from Bruce – leaving Bruce mourning the death of a son and burdened with his sense of guilt – but also took Bruce away from Jason. Joker took a son away from his father, and a father away from his son.

So when Jason says "He took me away from you" with all that anger and sorrow and resentment, I read it not only as the feeling of betrayment for a father who's lost a son and hasn't avenged him as his son would expected (as his son would have done if it was the other way around) and the hope he will do so now, but also as the pain that Jason felt by being taken away from Bruce.

Joker took Bruce away from him, took Robin away from him, the opportunity of a future by Batman's side, the chance to grow up to become his own hero like Nightwing (he did become his own "hero" eventually by becoming Red Hood, and who knows he may would have become it too if he'd stayed alive, but he definitely would have had a choice -- Joker took away from him the possibility of a choice)

He took him everything.

So in that single sentence you can feel all of this. Jason's pain for mourning the version of himself he could have been now if Joker hadn't murdered him. His pain and grief for a life he was robbed of and he'll never have back.

And that's why it always rips my heat apart, because it has this double meaning.

He took me away from you

It's as much about Bruce as Jason.

[jasntodds]

Too Heavy | J.T.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Request: @just-lost-inbetween-worlds​ : Can I get Jason Todd (doesn’t matter which version) with the prompts: bloodied knuckles, wiping the others tears away, as well as crying into their chest. Maybe bloodied knuckles bcs of punching something in a mental breakdown and then the rest happens.  Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompts

Summary: Sometimes things get a little too heavy for Jason

Warnings: Angst, blood, mentions of death, mental breakdown, hurt/comfort

Words: 2,802

A/n: I was listening to a lot of Too Heavy by The Plot In You while I wrote this so here we are lol If you wanna be added to my tag list, click the link below, send me an ask, or comment!! You can also follow my library blog @peteprkerlibrary​ !! If you like this, please reblog it and/or talk to me about it!!

masterlist | request info | tag list

Everyone has bad days. They come and they go. It gets better. It always gets better. But for Jason, his bad days are sometimes so rough and harsh, the world collapses from under him. He falls through the cracks into a black abyss, surrounded by every failure he’s ever had. He falls and falls and falls until he finally hits the bottom and the wind is sucked from his lungs in a hard smack. Leaving him alone in the pitch black coldness. Today is one of those days.

He’s just gotten back from patrol and he was quiet not to wake you. He walks steadily to the bathroom but his thoughts are circling the drain. Every step he takes is like twenty pounds added to his ankles and another thought joins the damned ride. Jason’s chest grows heavy as he finally reaches the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind him.

The worst nights of patrol involve kids and tonight did. It’s always the most innocent of people that get to him. Most nights, he can handle it because it’s part of the job. It’s one of the reasons he puts the helmet on every night. But tonight is different. Tonight is different because it didn’t have the hopeful ending it should have and it’s not fucking fair.

Jason’s hands grip the bathroom counter so hard he thinks he might shatter it in his palms. He almost hopes he does. He looks at himself in the mirror, his back slightly hunched over and he looks hollow. A discarded shell of who he should have been. And he can’t stand it. His head spins while his eyes slam shut and his grip tightens harder against the cool stone.

His chest starts to heave as his breathing quickens. His chest grows heavy and he wants to start ripping out every single one of his organs in hopes it’ll lift some of the weight. The heaviness is suffocating and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think this would be his end.

But he knows better.

And this is the never-ending hell he’s trapped in while the inability to save the kids tonight triggers memories to flood back like overflowing rivers in a flash flood.

There’s the echo of metal on concrete seeping into his blood stream and that menacing laugh that never should be called a laugh beats against his eardrum. The feeling of the panic he felt that day wraps him in a cruel and painful hug as if to be living off of his inability to breathe properly. Images of the Joker and the look on his mom’s face flash across his eyes and he can’t take the heaviness of it all anymore.

The grief he suffers with is nearly paralyzing and it is agonizing. They say grief gets better but when is it that supposed to happen? Because it’s been years and he can’t breathe and he wants to rip his lungs out of his chest just to feel anything other than this. He was just a kid.

Jason was a just a kid.

Tears burn his eyes, one slipping by and sliding down his cheek and he grits his teeth so hard they nearly shatter under the pressure. All he wants is for it all to stop for even a second. He wants one damn second of relief.

He looks up at his own reflection once more and he can see some bruising from last week and he hates it. The white streak in his hair almost seems whiter in the light of the bathroom and he hates it. He hates it. He hates it and he can’t do it. He punches the mirror in a quick motion, just once and it shatters into the sink and over the counter.

“Fuck.” Jason groans because he knows it was loud and he can’t stop the tears now. They’re drenching his face and his breathing is racing, quivering.

Blood spills into the sink as Jason hovers his shaking hand over it. Not a single part of him even cares or pays the stinging any mind. All he can do is try his best to breathe and shake his thoughts away but nothing works. They’re still there. Flashing across his eyes like lightning in the middle of a raging storm.

His legs start to feel weak as if he’s just gotten done running for miles on end. It’s getting harder to stand the more he tries to fight his own breath and thoughts. His head spins and he his stomach turns and twists into gnawing nausea. And he can’t even be bothered to stand anymore because that is just getting too damn hard too. His own body is growing too heavy with every passing thought and he swears that’s some sort of cruel joke.

Jason sits on the floor against the counter, hanging his head and pulling his knees up to his chest. Tears fall down his cheeks and he tries to fight them off with every thought he has but nothing works. They fall anyway, staining his cheeks in a wet mess.

“Jason?” You call from outside the door. 

The shattering of glass woke you up and for a few seconds, you thought someone had actually broken in. And you were nearly frozen, stuck thinking if you had a weapon of any sort in the bedroom you could use. But then those seconds faded and you didn’t hear footsteps or shuffling through the apartment. You didn’t hear anything and when you checked the time to see it was after three, you knew.

“Jay?” You call again, knocking on the door gently when he doesn’t answer.

Your groggy voice breaks his heart. He never meant to wake you up.

Jason slides his hands over his face and clears his throat. “Go back to bed, sweetheart.” Jason tries to stabilize his voice but you can hear the weakness and quiver. He’s mastered the art of hiding pain but not disguising the pain of crying.

Taking the knob in your hand, you twist it slowly, gently pushing the door open. You spot Jason still in his Red Hood gear, minus the helmet, sitting on the floor with drops of blood on the floor. He keeps his head hung and his forearms on his knees. You spot blood on his knuckle with open wounds before you see the broken mirror and your heart just breaks for him.

You step in slowly and cautiously as if moving too quickly will make him dissolve right into the floor. “Hey,” You crouch down beside him, tilting your head to try and get a look at his face that’s covered by his messy hair. “What happened, Jay?”

“I’m fine.” Jason forces the words from the back of his throat and he hates how weak they sound. 

You don’t like the answer because anyone who’s fine doesn’t break a mirror. Anyone who’s fine doesn’t sit on the bathroom floor at three in the morning with bloody knuckles crying. He’s not fine but Jason has never been very good at admitting to anyone when he’s not. He’d rather drown than ask for a life preserver.

You move in front of him, sitting on your knees. You reach out cautiously, putting your hands on his wet cheeks. Jason’s eyes shut down hard with your touch and you’re so gentle with him. Why? What’s he done to deserve it?

You pick his head up softly and Jason lets you. His eyes are bloodshot as he looks at you. His pretty blue eyes are now a haunting shade of navy, like the sky over the ocean in the middle of hurricane. Why does the world treat him with such cruelty?

“Please, go back to bed.” He nearly begs you because you shouldn’t have to deal with all of his trauma.

It’s not fair for you to lose sleep over him. He swears you shouldn’t and you don’t deserve it. All he wants is to be alone with his grief. If anyone has to suffer what he went through, it has to be him. It can’t involve you. Not you.

But you’re stubborn and that thing in your chest beats endlessly for him.

You can see his chest moving harshly with every breath and he might be Red Hood but he was Jason Todd first. A kid trying to survive the best he could. A kid who just wanted to learn and be a kid. Smart mouth and relentless as hell. But a kid no one looked out for. Red Hood looks out for so many people, but who’s supposed to look out for Jason Todd?

“Please, I’m fine.” Jason voice finally cracks as a tear escapes his bottom lid. “Just go to bed. I’ll be there a minute.”

You move your hands from his cheeks and he thinks, for a second that for once, you might actually listen to him. And he’d be lying if that didn’t hurt, too. But, it’s you and you were never very good at following his instructions even on good days so you move closer to him and stretch out your arms.

“Come here, Jay.” Your voice is soft, etched in worry and love.

He’s reluctant at first because he knows if he does, he’ll lose it entirely. Every piece of him that’s been able to hold in a sob will finally crack and that’ll be it. But he sees the worry in every tired line of your face and you always look so inviting.

“I’m worried about you. Please.” You plead with him, your voice cracking with a mix of tiredness and sadness. And Jason can’t hold it in anymore because you’re worried about him.

Jason moves his legs and moves closer to you, resting his head against your chest because at his point, it’s all too heavy for him to even try for a proper hug. And folding into you seems a hell of a lot easier for everyone. You wrap one arm around his side and rest your other hand in his hair. And just like he breaks.

A sob rips through his throat, echoing through the bathroom and you have to swallow the lump that forms in your throat. He shakes against you, sliding his hands to your back and holding onto your shirt. His grip is tight as if he’s stuck between thinking you’ll disappear if he lets go or that he’ll disappear if he does. Your hand runs through his hair and you try to console him, knowing there isn’t much that can help at this point. But you try by playing with his hair and whispering softly to him despite your own heart aching and breaking for him.

Tears brim your own eyes as you hold him against you. If you could, you would claw out your own heart and replace his with yours. Maybe that would help some of his agony. Maybe that would make his pain a little more tolerable. Maybe if you could swap out your hearts, you could take some of his pain away. You’d do it if it meant he wouldn’t suffer so much.

Minutes tick by and his breathing is still harsh against you but the sobs have slowed. His grip is still iron-tight on your shirt and all Jason wants is for the world to stop spinning. He wants the aching in his chest to stop and he wants everything around him to stop feeling so damn heavy.

You pick his head up, cupping his cheeks in both hands again. His cheeks are tear stained and you swear you’ve never seen him look so broken before. Your thumb awipe over his cheeks, brushing the tears away gently.

Jason nearly shudders with the action.

“It’s okay, Jay.” You assure him and your voice is strained as if begging him to believe you.

“It’s fucking not.” He sputters, his brows pulling together and you can see him clench his jaw. “It’s all shit and those kids deserved fucking better.” His breath is hot, boiling on your skin as he seethes. And you know what lead him here tonight.

He told you. Right to your face he told you he died. He left out the gory details of it all for your own sake but you know he was just a kid. And you know why he was there and about the Joker. He was just a kid.

“Kids?” You questions and you know Jason always has a bad night when it involves kids.

“Forget it.” He lets out a scoff because he doesn’t want to talk about it. You don’t need to know the details.

“Hey, no.” You shake your head, eyes scanning over his face as your brows pull together. “I’ll listen all night, okay? I won’t ask anything if you don’t want me to, okay? You can talk or not. But, you’re gonna be okay.” Your eyes lock with his and he wants to believe you.

But he also knows he’ll back here again. He always comes back here. Haunted. The ghost of who he was then and the ghost of who he should have been follow him. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to shake them as much as he wants to.

He places his hands over yours and you can’t help but notice how big his hands are whenever he does this. “Just so damn sick of it.” His voice is rough and exhausted.

“I know.” You nod with understanding.

You’ll never be able to understand how he feels or what he goes through but you try. And you see it across his face. You see it in the way he turns in his sleep, when he actually gets sleep. You see it in the way he’s always observing everything around him, always on guard. And you can see it in the way he is with his weapons, there’s always at least two weapons on him at any given moment. As much as you want to understand exactly what goes on inside of his head, you won’t but you can see it. So, you try your best to help and just be there in capacity he’ll let you.

“Why don’t we get you in the shower? I’ll wash your hair, clean up your hand, and we can get into bed? I’ll rub your back and you can tell me what happened if you want. Or I can read to you until you fall asleep.”

He’s almost always reluctant when it’s been bad. He never thinks he deserves the kindness and care you offer to him. On good days, he can accept it. It’s something he struggles with still because no one ever been so kind and careful with him before. So, it’s hard but on good days, he finds it easier to accept. But on bad days, like these, he’s reluctant because if he can’t see the good himself, why should anyone else? But he looks at your eyes that glossy with worry and you give him this look that makes him feel like he’s been put under a microscope. And you would do anything for him.

“Thanks.” He mutters, taking your hands away from his face. “I got it.”

“I know.” You nod your head. “I want to.” You smile gently at him, tilting your head slightly to the right. “You’re not alone, ya know?” You assure him because you think it must be lonely dealing with everything he goes through. “I got you.” 

He knows. As hard as it is for him to accept the care and kindness you offer him, he knows because he notices everything. He notices how he always wakes up with a blanket on him when he falls asleep on the couch and the way you always have his favorite protein bars on hand even though you don’t like them. You’re the one missing sleep when you have work in the morning to sit on the bathroom floor with him. It’s hard to accept sometimes and he gets in his own head about it sometimes, but at the end of the night, he has you.

And you’ve always had a way of lifting some of that weight for him, maybe without even trying.

“Okay.” Jason finally agrees, still a hint of reluctance in his voice.

You get to your feet and offer him your hand.

He almost chuckles because you can’t actually help him from the floor. But he takes your hand in his anyway, getting to his feet. You look up to him with gentle eyes before closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping your arms around him as tight as you can.

It takes a few seconds before you feel Jason relax under your hug and his arms come around your waist. His chin lays on the top of your head and he feels like he can breathe a little better now. 

When things get a little too heavy, at least he has you to help lift some of the weight.

Tag list: @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @dgraysonss // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @vivian-555 // @kebonita // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog​

[casscainmainly]

Small question, does it have to be Gotham for Cass? There's charas like Dick that can go establish their identity in a different city. Then there's Bruce, Steph, Jason and Duke who are so intrinsically tied to Gotham that this has to be the city for them. Where does Cass lie on this spectrum? Tq!

EXCELLENT question. I think Cass' situation is somewhat unique because of the way her character was handled post-Batgirl (2000).

In favour of Cass not staying in Gotham, she doesn't have the same emotional connection to Gotham as the four people you listed. She wasn't raised there, and in Batgirl (2000), she has next to no ties to Gotham civilians. In fact, it's when she moves to Bludhaven in Gabrych's run that she gains her first civilian friend and civilian love interest. The iconic volving panel is from Bludhaven, too. It's undeniable that the distance from Gotham, from Bruce (and arguably Babs), helps her grow:

Batgirl (2000) #71

It can't be overstated how important ownership is to Cass. To own something means, necessarily, that you not an object. You are a person who something belongs to, and who belongs to something. By calling Bludhaven the "first place that's ever been... mine," she's explicitly saying that Gotham was not hers. Bludhaven was the first place that made her feel fully human.

But there are caveats to this. Cass goes to Bludhaven in the wake of Stephanie's death, a Gothamite through and through. It's probable that Steph's death colours her view of Gotham here, and her willingness to embrace Bludhaven is in response to the pain that Gotham now brings her. (This is also after Babs calls Cass stupid). Feeling like Gotham doesn't belong to her might stem from these specific circumstances, and not be applicable in current canon.

Still, if the story had ended there, I'd say Cass doesn't need to stay in Gotham. Unfortunately, it doesn't.

Red Robin (2009) #17

After Bruce's death, Cass goes to Hong Kong. Well, 'goes' is putting it nicely. She was written off to make Steph Batgirl, which resulted in Cass a) not appearing in most comics, b) being stripped of the bat symbol, and c) being isolated from everyone she cares about, besides Tim. It's a horrific and undeserved fate, reversing everything Cass' story once stood for (narrative agency; becoming a hero; finding a family).

Though Cass regains the symbol and becomes the Bat of Hong Kong, she is no longer part of the narrative; her distance from Gotham became a representation of her distance from narrative importance. That's the real danger of Cass leaving Gotham - unlike Dick, who is a big enough character to be guaranteed solos in Blud, Cass leaving Gotham will forever hold the threat of erasure.

I'm discussing this in a meta-textual sense, but textually Cass knows the danger too.

Gates of Gotham #5

Here, Cass rebuffs Dick's assertion that Gotham will never keep either of them because they don't belong. She says, "It's about how you choose to see the world. Everything else is just an excuse." She's repudiating multiple things: editorial's decision to boot her from Gotham; Bruce's decision to take Batgirl away; even, somewhat, Dick's ascension to the Bat mantle when she wasn't given a chance.

This is ultimately why, though Cass could work elsewhere, I think she should work in Gotham. It's the place she ran to after David Cain, the place she chose to stay in, and the place that gave her Batgirl. Most importantly, it's the place that rejected her. It's not about Gotham itself - It's about how she was ejected from it, and how she fought her way back, over and over again. Cass staying in Gotham ensures history doesn't repeat itself. It rewards Cass fans who survived OYL, Batman Inc, and New 52 with the light at the end of the tunnel.

This is just my opinion! I do love her stint in Bludhaven, so I understand other people preferring her elsewhere. Just for me, she may not belong to Gotham in the way Bruce, Steph, Duke, Jay, or Babs does, but she deserves to be there.

[allthegothihopgirls]

just finished reading death in the family properly and. whoo the racist undertones are racist undertoning. but uh. wanted to say that i cannot understand why people hated jason back then because like. he’s just a kid. he’s a KID. shaking 80s fans by the shoulders he’s a CHILD. he’s not gonna be a mature adult he’s gonna be a little weird and a little annoying even!! but he is a KID.

also wanted to ask your opinions on the jason has chronic pain headcanon? i personally as someone w chronic pain really enjoy it because it makes sense and i am a firm believer that we need more representation of invisible disabilities like some chronic pain is (and mine is) but ive heard a few people say they don’t like it

— baptism anon

right?? like yeah i think jason dying was the most beneficial thing to ever happen to his character, and he also had next-to-no defining traits as robin apart from being a dick grayson carbon-copy + replacement... but i don't get why people hated him.

~

jason w/ chronic pain!!!!!! oh boy i have feelings about him... i LOVE.

especially when it's death-induced.. a bit like phantom feeling/pain, but instead it is. very. real. like, he has chronic joint pain in places where joker hit him a few too many times etc. personally i reject the 'lazarus pit made him squeaky clean' canon, so on top of him keeping all his scars, and being more frankenstein than man.. chronic pain fits in very well.

i also definitely enjoy headcanons of him with chronic migraines.. not because i'm projecting.

i think it's a pretty agreed-upon headcanon that jason isn't a fan of medication in the slightest, due to his mother's death (only making exceptions when he's sustained more than a minor injury on patrol or a mission and is being tended to).

so i propose, stubborn jason w/ chronic migraines, who will never admit to needing actual medication. obviously he isn't going to be stupid about it, he won't patrol if it's too bad, and maybe tries to ward it off with some regular ibuprofen. but he is so against being properly medicated for prevention or treatment, and gets super defensive if dick or bruce suggest it to him.

he's always in varying levels of head hurt™ and just. lives with it. in the comfort of his own apartment he's definitely not a stranger to herbal teas and heat packs though.. however at the same time he's 100% beating himself up whenever he can't just power through.

i don't think he'd actively tell anyone either. dick figures it out from the way he'll rub at his temples post-patrol, or maybe a couple of unclosed search tabs on a computer 'whydoesmyheadalwayshurt' or 'home remedies: how to naturally prevent migraines'

for bruce finding out i have a bit more of a developed idea. jason's gone out patrolling with a migraine, against his better judgement. he's on comms with bruce, who's getting his assistance on a case he's been tracking. seemingly out of nowhere he hisses a little in pain, and bruce is asking what's wrong.

jason grows defensive quickly and spurts out a routine "imfinedontworry" but was apparently not convincing enough because before he knows it bruce is asking "status?" ..and he swears there's a microchip in him somewhere that forces him to give a truthful answer, because it's not like he wants to tell bruce his head's hurting, because that's just plain embarrassing. he doesn't want people thinking that he can't handle pain that miniscule.

between that and the other times he's been asked "red hood, report" and stated his condition, adding on a "head hurts a bit too, but that's just normal".. it wasn't difficult for bruce to suspect something unusual.

moving away from migraines, i think he also experiences chronic joint pain. compared to the previously mentioned, it's easier to play joint pain off as 'normal' and convince himself there's no cause for concern. he's 100% in denial of having an actual issue, which i'd like to think somewhat comes from bruce experiencing the exact same thing, and jason watching him absolutely refuse to admit any weakness it causes him.

he ends up believing it's just something that happens to everyone (well, at least everyone who dresses up and fights crime on the regular). jason's confused when dick's asking him if he wants to stick around for a chat post-patrol, because is dick not also desperate to go home, ice his joints, and spend time doing stretches to ease his pain before finally getting some sleep?????

i don't think he'd realise that it isn't a normal thing until he's called out on it. maybe he makes an off-comment about 'never feeling 75%, let alone 100%' comfort-wise, and damian remarks how that is. an issue. jason's instantly defending himself "yeah well that's just what happens when you've been in the business for this long-" and dick chimes in to point out that he doesn't feel like that. from there i think he goes to an even larger effort to hide any pain he's in.

big believer in jason being a cane user too. i think babs is the one who convinces him to start using one, after the events of this panel ↓ ↓ ↓ 

you cannot tell me that she's letting that comment slide: "that book looked... useful" plus "i don't think i've ever been okay", ok jason mr 'i really resonated with this and now i'm having revelations' todd.

she's 100% sitting his ass down for a real talk about whatever he has going on.

and i think afterwards, babs suggests that he really considers mobility aids. to which i think he ends up being very accidentally ableist, in the 'but those are for old people' way. it takes... a lot to reverse his somewhat internalised ableism, and get him to at least try a mobility aid out.

he grows less opposed to it as he realises that it's not something he's obligated to use all the time, and that it works. so he uses a cane around his apartment, and around the manor when he gets to be confident enough (he's a bit worried of people asking questions, but no one even bats an eye, because it just makes sense).

i have a whole other set of thoughts about the batfamily + how they go about jason using a cane... but i think i've gone on for long enough.. my apologies

in conclusion... chronic pain!jason todd is a HUGE headcanon of mine. love it a lot.

[screamsortega]

i won’t let anyone hurt you;

summary: as news of a new ghostface arises you get painful flashbacks from the year before, luckily, your boyfriend ethan is there to comfort you.

warnings: cursing, mentions of blood, murder, all that stuff.

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

*lowercase intended*

“what’s going on?” sam spoke, rushing in not too long after chad called for her.

“…where the mutilated bodies of two students..” the news reporter on the tv spoke.

“cute boy, nice.” quinn said, pointing to the guy that followed in after sam.

“their names have just been released by the police, jason carvey and greg bruckner.” the reporter continues before mindy chimes in.

“holy shit,” she began, “that’s that chode from our film studies class. the one obsessed with argento.”

“Also found at the scene were various ghostface costumes, a character popularized by the stab movie franchise.” as soon as the reporter said those words, you could feel your face grow pale before you all looked at one another.

“Pack a bag, we leave in ten.” sam spoke, walking into the kitchen to grab a knife.

“sam, wait, sam!” tara spoke up, walking over towards her sister.

“we’re getting out of the city.”

“what?” the guy, danny, that followed behind sam said.

“thank you, suspicious new guy, but we got it from here.” chad says, slightly pushing danny back out of the apartment. “have a good night, get home safe.”

“sam.” tara said, “sam, wh- hold on, no, wait, let’s talk about this for a second. cause this might not have anything to do with us.”

“are you serious?” sam asked.

“it’s a big city! it’s halloween, everybody’s wearing masks!” tara defended.

“tara, this isn’t a coincidence.” sam spoke, hee voice slightly raising. “you knew him!”

“barely.”

“chad, mindy, y/n? back me up.”

“i mean, it is a little bit..” chad started as mindy finished his sentence. “close to home.”

“see?” sam said, turning back to tara.

you had been sitting in silence, blanking out, ethan had taken notice of this. “y/n?” he spoke, his voice low enough to where only you could hear.

ethan’s voice caused you to bring yourself back into reality, you get up and walk into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you which causes the group to stop in the middle of their conversations.

“is — is she okay?” anika questions, looking from one person to another.

“this is bringing shit back for her,” tara began, “everything that happened last year traumatized her for like, life.”

“didn’t it happen to all of you, though?” quinn asks, trying to keep up.

“well, yeah, but it just had a way harder hit on her. she hasn’t been dealing with it well either.”

ethan glances at the ground, contemplating on whether or not he should try and comfort you.

he gets up, heads to your bedroom door but before he reaches for the handle mindy chimes in. “she probably doesn’t want to be bothered right now, dude.”

ethan rolls his eyes, ignoring mindy’s comment as he walks in your bedroom and closes the door behind him.

“hey, you okay?” ethan asks, sitting besides you as his hand rests upon your shoulder.

you shrug his hand off, “go away, e.”

the two of you sit in silence for a moment, ethan deciding on what to say. “do you wanna talk about it?”

you just sit there, knees up against your chest as your head hangs low. “i know this must be hard for you, and i’m sorry that you have to go through this again.” ethan began.

“i care about you, y/n, and i’m here for you. so, please, talk to me.”

for some reason, tears just start to pour onto your face, your head falls upon ethan’s shoulder. “i can’t do this shit again, e, i can’t.”

“i know, it’s okay,” ethan began, his hand crept up to your hair, brushing through it. “just take deep breaths, okay? in and out.”

“ethan,” you began, finally controlling your breathing. “you have to get out of here, okay? if ghostface is really back then that means they’ll come after everyone, and that includes you and i can’t lose you, e.”

“yeah, well, you must be crazy if you think i’m leaving you.” ethan spoke, “i won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?”

“just let it all out, y/n”

[gay-dorito-dust]

*The story would be like *Unter the red hood* where Jason sees the reader when he fights Bruce and Dick… I don't know what to add srry

This song got me into the headspace whilst writing this along with Mr Loverman. 🦦also I’m adding the fact that reader knows Jason during his time as Robin cuz I can.

Jason had taken many things into account with his plan but the one thing he didn’t however was seeing you again, and god were you still as beautiful and or handsome as the least time he saw you, a little worn and tired and yet you were still you; Fierce, powerful, kind, sweet, loving, generous, you.

His Achilles heel, now and forever.

He still remembers the times where he would always go to you whenever he got himself injured from crime fighting with Bruce and was too stubborn to accept medical treatment. He always did prefer your approach to patching him up, scolding him for his sheer recklessness whilst still being tender with his wounds, telling him with sarcasm that you much prefer to have him alive rather then dead at your fire escape.

To which he laughed despite it hurting his fractured ribs. ‘You worry too much about me, buttercup. If I didn’t know any better I would start to think that you care for me more than a friend.’ He teased, nudging you in the side with his good arm. You scoffed but you neither denied nor confirmed that you did in fact care for him more than a friend because you genuinely thought at the time that you would have enough time to tell him.

You were wrong…Jason died not long after.

You grieved hard and for so long afterwards, always sitting on rooftops by yourself whenever you missed him more then most days, only to feel your heart break even harder and before you knew it you were crying, crying your heart out in pain, anger and loss at the very city that ruthlessly took him from you until your throat went hoarse or your eyes had no more tears to shed. You didn’t want to believe that Jason was gone, never to come back and greet you on the fire escape with that cheeky smile despite being conceded in cuts and bruises.

Even now you still look out towards the fire escape whenever you heard a peculiar noise coming from there, thinking that this was the one, this was the moment where everything went back to normal, that you would see Jason again and that everyone was lying to you. Only to be disappointed every single time.

So to be stood here now, across from the man known as RedHood, something about him strikes familiarity in you but yet felt forgein at the same time.

‘Buttercup?’ RedHood asked in disbelief and your eyes widened. Only Jason called you that nickname and when he did, it felt like home. So when RedHood said it, it made you feel the exact same way. ‘Jason?’ You whispered tentatively, almost as though you were expecting for that small glimmer of hope that you desperately held onto to be shattered into a million pieces. ‘You’re alive?’ You added.

‘Came just as a surprise to me too.’ He replied strongly, only for his voice to grow soft when he then said, ‘I’m sorry that we never got enough time…I just thought-‘

‘That we would have enough time?’ You interrupted, smiling at him bitter sweetly, already having had similar enough thoughts yourself. There wasn’t a single moment in your life after his death did you think about whether or not things would’ve played out differently had you told him, or how his death would hurt you even more then it already did had you told him that night.

Now that he was right in front of you, it felt as though far was giving you that chance to find out but you were frozen to the spot. You knew this man was Jason, he was practically telling you with his body that he was but he was too different from everything that had happened to him, he’s been through things that you could only being to imagine.

He was your Jason but he also wasn’t.

‘Yeah.’ Jason said defeatedly, wishing to go back to the night where you first met, two young and naive kids who had no clue of what the future held for them and how it would tear them apart in the worst ways, only to bring them back together in the most unlikely circumstance but this time on opposing sides.

Silence befell you both, allowing for everything to sink in but it didn’t prove in making anything that happened before your fated reunion any better, it didn’t take away the hurt and the grief you felt nor did it take away the pain and the anguish that Jason felt. Seeing each other again didn’t magically heal either of you, if anything it made you incredibly numb to anything and everything that could possibly come next.

‘Nightshade, any visual on the RedHood?’ Bruce asked through the intercom and just like that the peace was shattered and the reason why you were here in the first place was revitalised. ‘Negative Batman. I lost him after he blindsided me.’ You replied, eyes still locked onto to Jason as you headed Bruce’s next chain of command before switching off your intercom, consequences be damned, you’ll deal with what’s to come later; As for now all you wanted to do was ingrained this version of Jason to memory before you were destined to part ways once again.

‘You should go, I’ve given you a brief window to escape but it won’t be long before he figures out somethings amiss.’ You told the vigilante, just about getting ready to leave when he desperately grabbed at your arm. ‘That’s it? You’re just going to leave after finding out I’m alive? Do you even care?!’ Jason roared and it was enough for you to snap because how dare he think that you didn’t care about him when he was all you ever thought about after his untimely death. ‘I always fucking care about you Jason!’ You exclaimed. ‘No! I fucking loved you but you died! You fucking died. I told you that you’d get killed one day and but you didn’t listen! You never listen! Do you know how much i grieved for you, mourned for you!? I became a vigilante IN YOUR MEMORY! So go ahead and claim that I don’t care for you when all I ever done was care for you, you stupid boy because I was stupid enough to fall first!’

Jason froze. You loved him? Since when and why didn’t he know? Why did you tell him? But most importantly, why him? He’s broken, he wasn’t worth your time.

You smiled weakly at his silence and quietly slipped from his grasp and left to meet up with Bruce and Dick, knowing it was for the better. Silently hoping that you would get to see him again but you weren’t exactly holding onto any form of hope.

[mongeesemeese]

I'm working on a much bigger project featuring this guy. I'll probably start sticking stuff for it in here as it comes so be expecting a lot more DC from me lol. Now, headcanon time!

---

Jason Todd is probably one of my favorite DC characters, but also one that I feel has been generally mishandled.

One of the biggest things I think people forget about Jason is that he is, in fact, an anti-hero.

He does messed up shit because he knows that it's arguably the only way to really make a difference. Batman's methods, while generally noble, are relatively ineffective in the grand scheme of things. Due to the corruption of Gotham's justice system and rehabilitation system for criminals, the Big Bads really don't get their just desserts, which only leads to more people getting hurt and continuing the cycle of violence that has existed for so long.

Let's be real - the Joker has probably single-handedly ruined more lives than Batman could ever hope to save. I know, I know - that's dark, but it's probably true.

Trying a more drastic approach to keeping criminals off the streets doesn't seem too insane when those criminals don't get a clue to maybe stop after being beaten to a pulp by Batman.

I guess a lot of them are into that sort of thing lol.

In any case, Jason kills the bad guys so the families in the city won't have to worry about losing a child to the Joker's insanity, so women won't feel afraid to walk 100 feet down the sidewalk without turning into another missing persons photo on the ever-growing list, so that children don't have to worry about losing their parents to a hostage situation gone wrong.

I would argue that Jason Todd is not a bad person. In fact, I would argue that he is a very good person who is willing to go further than anyone else to help others because he knows exactly what it is like to be lost the grief, pain, and rage that comes from not being helped.

---

Anyway, that's all I've got for know. I'll probably do more character study stuff for the Bat family soon. Should be fun.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

One Bad Day....Jason's Death

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 8. Panic Attack, 12. Character Death, 23. Begging, 31. Crying, Alt. 13. Grief Fandom: Batman, Batfam, Batmom, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd Summary: Before Red Hood rescued her, before she was in prison, before she killed The Joker, Batmom experiences one of the most devastating losses of her life. Word Count: 5587 TW: Canon Character Death, Mentions of Torture, Brief Description of Injuries, Grief, Breakdown, Tears, Anger, Character Picks Up Reader Note: This is part of the One Bad Day.... series but can be read as a one-shot (though best to be read after Part 3)Part of @ailesswhumptober's whumptober event.

Series Masterlist

It has been three days since you have heard from either Bruce or Jason and you are starting to get worried. Actually, you are way past worried—you are terrified. Something is wrong, you can feel it in your gut. A gnawing queasiness deep in your stomach that has you unable to eat or sleep while you wait for some sort of news.

Usually, you wouldn’t give this radio silence a second thought. While Bruce tries to send some sort of word as often as he can while out of town, it just isn’t always possible. Especially when he is away on this kind of work. Batman is a force of secrets and mystery. He can’t always risk finding a way to call his wife to tell her he is alright. 

You pull the blanket that is draped over your shoulders tighter around you and continue pacing. Alfred had placed it there a few ago, the last time he had come to check on you. When you had first begun to worry, the butler had remained by your side providing constant reassurance and support. But after a while, once it became clear you wanted to be alone, he retreated upstairs. Occasionally, he returned to the Batcave to bring you some food, water, or something to keep you warm, but otherwise, he had been keeping his distance. However, you know the second you call for him, he will instantly be there to get you whatever he possibly can. If only he could get you the one thing you truly wanted right now….

As if summoned by your silent wish, you suddenly hear the distant roar of a familiar engine growing louder by the second. Whirling around, a huge smile of relief on your face, you turn just in time to see the Batmobile burst into the cave and come to a stop in its usual spot. For the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe again as the driver-side door opens up and you catch a glimpse of Bruce, still in his Batman costume though he has removed his cowl and gloves.

Throwing your arms open wide as you approach the car, you exclaim, “There’s my boys!” Bruce doesn’t look at you as he climbs out of the Batmobile and walks slowly over to the passenger side. “I was just about to send out a search party. How was Ethiopia? Did you find–”

You stumble to a halt, your smile slipping from your face. An icy vice clamps down on your heart as you see Bruce lift something out of the Batmobile: a small limp figure wrapped in a torn yellow cape that reveals small glimpses of the red suit underneath through the holes and tears. Though the cape is also draped across the person’s face, you know immediately who is under it.

“No….” you gasp as your blanket slips from your shoulders to pool at your feet. “No, no, Bruce, no. Please, no.” 

As you wait for Bruce’s response, you cling to that last fragile shred of hope that it’s not what you think, that maybe he’s just hurt under there or sleeping or…or…….

But as your husband silently walks past you and lays the body on one of the nearby tables, the drawn, pained expression on his face coupled with the tender care he takes carefully arranging it is the final confirmation you need. 

Dropping to your knees, you let out an almost inhuman wail as the truth of the situation slams into you like a nuclear blast. Your baby’s gone. Jason is dead. And you have lost yet another child. 

You collapse forward, your forehead pressing hard against the cold cave floor as another wail tears through your chest. No. It can’t be true. Jason has to be alive. He has to be. Oh please, God, please don’t tell me you’ve taken my baby from me. Not again. Please.

As you continue to sob—worldless howls of grief and pain—you feel Bruce drape himself over you as if trying to shield you from this agony….but it’s too late. The damage has already been done and you have been irreparably broken.

In what seems like hours later, once you have exhausted yourself to the point you no longer have the energy or tears left to cry, Bruce sits back and pulls you carefully into his lap. As you lay curled in his arms with your head resting on his chest, you can feel his heart beating beneath you—so strong and steady—and it hits you that you will never again feel Jason’s heartbeat or hear him take a breath. All of those little signs of life you take for granted are just gone…and so is he.

Lifting your head to gaze up at your husband, you force your words through your aching throat, torn raw from all your screaming, and you ask, “What happened?” 

“The Joker,” Bruce says as he brushes a tear off your cheek. “He used Jason’s birthmother to lure him in, then he placed both of them in a warehouse that was rigged to explode. I arrived just as the bomb went off. I….I was too late to save him.”

The sound of Bruce’s voice breaking and the tears in his voice sends another jolt of pain into your heart and you nuzzle your head into his neck as you squeeze his hand. He silently squeezes back and you have to stifle a groan as you feel the bones in your hand shift and crack in his grasp, but you don’t say anything. You just let him continue to squeeze your hand long after the point it turns numb. 

You haven’t seen Bruce fall apart since the two of you lost the baby. Regardless of what heartbreaks or fights had come your way in the years since, Bruce had remained calm and stoic through it all. It’s just who he was. He was your rock, your lifeline in the roughest of waters, your source of comfort when you needed it the most—so the sight of him breaking adds another layer of grief to your own.

When he finally loosens his grip and you can tell he has regained some of his composure, you whisper, “Did he…. Did he hurt him before…?”

Bruce hesitates for a moment before murmuring, “You don’t need to know the details.” 

Which means yes. The Joker had probably tortured and beaten your baby bloody before blowing him up. Another sob threatens to tear from your lips, but you manage to quell it so it is just a whine deep in your throat. You had cried enough for the moment. Right now, you need answers and to come up with a plan. But first…you need something else.

Untangling yourself from Bruce’s arms, you unsteadily get to your feet and begin walking over to the table. Bruce leaps up when he sees what you are doing and he gently grabs your shoulders blocking your path. “Don’t. Sweetheart, just…just don’t. Trust me.”

“Let me go. I need to see him.”

You try to shrug him off but he holds you firmly in place. “No. You don’t. Don’t let that be the last image you have of him—I wish it wasn’t mine. He’s gone and seeing him like that won’t bring him back. So, I’m begging you, don’t.”

“Get out of my way, Bruce,” you growl as you glare up at your husband. “I need to see our son. I need to see what that monster did to him.”

For a moment, you aren’t sure what Bruce is going to do. His eyes flit across your face, trying to find the slightest hesitation he can grasp onto. But when he doesn’t find any, he sighs and slowly lowers his hands as he bows his head and whispers, “Please…Don’t look.”

But you have already pushed past him before he finishes his sentence.

You approach the table with a determined stride, yet you hesitate once you reach it. Jason was always a slight kid, even verging on scrawny, but he had never seemed smaller or more vulnerable than as your hand hovers over the cape still draped over him. Even that first night Bruce brought him home to you, he had so much fire and spirit in his little twelve-year-old body that his presence filled the room. Now, three years later, that fire and spirit had been extinguished and it hits you all over again how young he truly was—how young he would always be.

You feel Bruce come to stand just behind you but he doesn’t say a word. He has tried his best to stop you so now all he can do is wait for you to live with your decision and be there for the aftermath. Knowing he is right there for you gives you a renewed sense of strength and as you take a deep breath, you pull back the cape to look at your son. 

Bruce was right. You shouldn’t have looked.

Some of the damage you are expecting based on what Bruce told you. Burns litter Jay’s face and neck as well as his hands. In some places, they are light, almost invisible unless the light catches them just so. However, in other spots, the burns are so severe you can almost see down to the bone. His hands are the worst, so charred and blackened that you fear touching them despite the longing in your chest to hold his hand once more in yours. Looking at the burn patterns, it seems heartbreakingly clear that Jason had tried to protect himself from the blast by throwing his hands in front of his face…he had seen it coming.

Yet as horrible as that realization is, far worse is the damage you weren’t expecting to see on your son.

Beneath the burns and debris from the bomb, Jason’s body is broken, bruised, and bloody in ways that an explosion couldn’t have caused. One arm and leg jut out at odd angles and there are dark bruises all over his face, neck, and the parts of his torso you can see through his ruined suit. One eye is swollen and black, his nose is bent sharply to one side, and his lip is split open wide. You have seen enough blunt-force trauma up close and personal to understand what had to have caused all of this. 

Casting one last longing look at your son, you turn to face Bruce. You are visibly shaking, and when you speak, your voice is dripping with venomous fury, “Where is he?”

“Clark is tracking him down and he’ll alert me the second he finds him.”

“And then?” Bruce glances away, unable to look at you. Disbelief washes over you and you step closer to your husband. “Bruce, don’t tell me you are thinking of letting him live.”

“It’s not our place to–”

“He killed our son!” you hiss as you point to the body of the child you both loved. “Jason is—Jason is dead because of that maniac! We can’t let The Joker get away with this!”

“We won’t.” Bruce takes your face between his hands and bends over so his forehead is almost touching yours. “I swear to you, we will find him and throw him back into Arkham where he belongs.”

Wrenching from his grasp in disgust, you snarl, “For how long? A few weeks? A month if we’re lucky? Then he’ll just find another way to escape like he always does and he’ll hurt more innocent people, more people we love. How can you not see that this has to end? That it should have ended years ago.”

“My heart—” Bruce tries to take your hand but once again you snatch it away from him. “I know you don’t always agree with it, but we have a code. A code you agreed to follow when you joined me. And that code means that no matter what The Joker or anyone else does, We. Don’t. Kill. Otherwise, what makes us any better than them?”

“Maybe I don’t care about being better than them anymore. We’ve done things by the book, followed your rules, and where has that left us? Two dead children and a third who barely survived being shot. And you still talk about trusting the same system that allowed it to happen in the first place. Well, who’s next, Bruce? Who will be the next victim in your moral war? Alfred? Dick?....Me? Whose death will it take for you to realize that this won’t end unless we make it end?”

Bruce stares at you as if he is looking at a stranger and not his wife of ten years. Shaking his head slightly, he says, “I understand you’re hurting right now and you’re not thinking clearly. But once some time has passed and the feelings aren’t as raw, you’ll—”

“I’ll what? Forget my son is dead?” you snap.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what did you mean? Give it time and things will just go back to normal? That this pain will fade and I won’t care that my son was murdered?”

“Our son.”

“What?”

“Our son,” Bruce says. His voice has a sharp edge to it that momentarily takes you aback. “You keep saying ‘my son’ like you’re the only one who lost him. I know what you and Jay had was special but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love him too, or that I’m not in agony right now. I had to watch, helplessly, as that warehouse exploded knowing I was too late to save him. Then, I dug with my bare hands for almost an hour through the wreckage praying for a miracle only to find—” Bruce presses his hand over his eye as he takes a long, slow, shaking inhale then continues “And then I had to fly home watching vigil over our son’s body, all the while dreading this moment. Knowing I was coming home to shatter the woman I love. But the only thing that made that thought bearable was knowing we could mourn together and lean on each other for comfort. Yet all you can focus on is revenge and murder!”

“No, Bruce. I’m focusing on keeping the family I still have safe. I’m focusing on protecting this city just as you swore to do. I’m focusing on ending terror and chaos in the streets. And if that means one psychotic clown has to die to make that happen, then so be it.”

“We do not cross that line. Ever. No matter who we think deserves it. That’s just how things have to be.”

“Don’t you get it! Jason would still be alive if you had just—” All of your fury evaporates instantly and you inhale sharply as you realize what you were about to blurt out. Bruce’s expression hardens into a stone-cold mask usually reserved for the most lowsome of criminals and, stumbling back, you stutter, “I-I mean…I—”

“If I had what? Say it. Say it!” Now it is your turn to not meet his eye yet he pushes on. “You were going to say that if I had just killed The Joker years ago, Jason would still be alive!”

“I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out,” you whisper. “I know this isn’t your fault, Bruce. You told him not to go but I encouraged him to do what he thought he had to do. That I would support whatever decision he made.” Your voice cracks as you choke out, “I sent our baby off to his death, not you.”

It is the thought that has been nagging at the back of your head since you saw Bruce lift Jason’s body from the Batmobile. The unbearable truth you’ve been unable to face. Bruce had known something felt off about the situation and he insisted Jason stayed home. But when Jason came to you saying he had found his birthmother and needed to go see her, you put your foot down and forced Bruce to take him. If you had just listened to Bruce, if you had just really examined the facts instead of wanting to show Jason you were supportive, your son would still be alive.

Suddenly, it felt like the walls of the Batcave were closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath. Stumbling back a few steps, you say, “I-I can’t do this. I have to get out of here.”

The anger in Bruce’s face disappears as quickly as it appeared. He reaches out to you with a soft, “Sweetheart—” but you continue to back away.

“No. No, I need to go. I-I need to be alone.”

Bruce nods slowly. “Alright. That’s okay. Why don’t you go take a long shower and lay down and I’ll take care of things down here. I’ll come check on you when I’m done.”

You nod back and hurry over to the stairs leading up to the manor. But just as you begin to climb them, you pause and mumble, “I’ll be in Jay’s room.” then flee up the stairs before Bruce can stop you.

Once back in the manor, you move in an almost trancelike state towards the bedrooms. As you pass the kitchen, you hear a soft sniffling and you realize Alfred must have come down into the Batcave at some point and seen what happened. You have been so preoccupied with your own grief, you completely forgot about the butler who loved Jason almost as much as you and Bruce did. 

Part of you wants to go back and join him. After all, Alfred always knows how to fix anything and everything and maybe, somehow, he can fix this too. Yet as much as it pains you to admit, there are just some things even Alfred Pennyworth can’t do. So you continue walking.

When you reach Jason’s room, you don’t even pause before opening the door and shuffling in. In one fluid movement, you collapse onto your son’s bed and roll over, dragging his comforter with you until you are cocooned beneath the blanket. 

It seems impossible that just three nights ago you were sitting on this very bed with Jason next to you as he told you about how he had been tracking down his birthmother. He had been so scared to tell you for fear he would hurt your feelings. But you had just gathered him into your arms and pressed your lips into his hair as you promised him you would always be his “Ma” regardless of what happened on his search. That you would always love him….

Tears you did not think you could still cry began slipping silently down your cheeks. What would you have done differently if you had known that was the last time you would see your son? What else would you have said to make him understand how much he meant to you? How he had saved you from your grief once before and how you still needed him now?

You bury your face deeper into his pillow as you finally allow yourself to ask the question that you know will haunt you the rest of your life:

Could I have saved you if I had been there?

For the next twelve days, little changes. The only time you leave Jason’s bed is to go to the bathroom, but otherwise, you lay curled in the center of his bed wrapped in his blankets and staring at his wall. Bruce and Alfred take turns coming to check on you several times a day, usually bringing food or drinks and trying their best to coax you into consuming something. You take a little nibble here and there or take a few sips of water, but it isn’t long before you return to your near catatonic state. 

Even when Dick arrives a few days after you learned of Jason’s death, it doesn’t make much of a difference. You do allow him to climb into the bed with you where you wrap him in a bone-crushing embrace, afraid if you let go you’ll lose him just like your other children. But eventually, he has to leave and you resume your solitary existence.

On day seven, Bruce slips into bed behind you and wraps his arms around you. For a long time, the two of you just lay there in silence. Then, softly, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Please, sweetheart, please come back to me. I know you’re hurting. So am I. But I just lost Jason and I can’t….I can’t lose you too. Please, let me in. Let us help each other through this….Together.”

You know he’s right, and it kills you to know you are only adding to his heartbreak, but you just don’t have the strength or the will to be what he needs right now. So, you remain motionless in his embrace, your eyes never shifting their unseeing stare at the wall.

Eventually, Bruce accepts nothing is going to change. Pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, he whispers, “I love you. Please never forget that. And I’ll be waiting, as soon as you’re ready.” Then he slips from the bed and you are alone once more.

The next major change in your routine comes exactly two weeks after Jason’s death when Bruce and Alfred walk into Jason’s room holding a simple black dress. Silently, you allow them to put it on you before they lead you downstairs where Dick is waiting with the car. No one has to tell you where you are going. You already know.

For the short drive, Bruce sits next to you in the backseat, holding your hand tightly as he presses his lips against your temple with whispers of encouragement and love. You squeeze his hand back but make no other acknowledgment of his presence or support. You catch Dick glancing back at you in the rearview mirror a few times, concern etched on his face, and you wonder what he sees when he looks at you. That thought makes you withdraw even further into yourself in shame.

As Alfred pulls to a stop, you make no move to exit the car. Alfred and Dick both glance at Bruce for some sort of guidance as to how to proceed, and he motions for them to get out. Once you are alone, Bruce pulls you into his arms. “If I could spare you from this, you know I would. But we have to make some sort of public show or it’s going to look suspicious. And people are already asking questions. But I promise, the second we’re done, I’ll take you back up to the house. Okay?”

You nod, knowing he is right however much you despise it, and he smiles softly. Placing his finger under your chin so he can tilt your head back, Bruce kisses your forehead as he whispers, “That’s my girl.”

Then sliding his hand into yours, he opens his car door and steps out before helping you out. Immediately you are met with flashing lights and the whirring click of hundreds of cameras all pointed in your direction. You try to ignore them as Bruce leads you down the path lined with photographers and reporters, your face a blank mask void of any emotion. 

But that mask becomes harder to maintain as you hear the slight tittering of whispers passing through the crowd. And though you have over a decade of experience being the subject of Gotham’s rumor mill to get used to the kinds of things people say about you, these reach a new level of cruelty: 

“Look at the heartless whore. Can’t even spare a single tear for that poor boy Bruce so kindly took in.”

“I heard she didn’t even want to come today but Bruce insisted. Can you imagine? He deserves so much better.”

“She wasn’t even there when he died. Bruce planned a family trip overseas and she refused to go. She would rather stay here to be waited on hand and foot by that butler of theirs than spend time with her supposed family.”

“I bet she had something to do with the boy’s death. Probably didn’t want to share the Wayne fortune with anyone else. Bruce and the older boy should watch their backs. They could be next.”

You remember a time when you would have gone off on these people. Snapped back about how they didn’t know anything about you or your relationship with your family. Caused such a scene Bruce would have had to sheepishly drag you away while his face glowed bright red. But not today. Today all you want to do is curl up in a ball in front of them as you sob, asking how they can be so cruel or heartless to not see your pain or the devastation at your loss. How they could come here—here of all places—just to add to your suffering.

But you don’t. Instead, you allow Bruce to continue leading you forward until you stop in front of the freshly dug grave with the casket placed beside it.

Bruce (well, probably Alfred) had worked out all the details while you were locked in Jason’s room. A plot had been selected in the small graveyard on the edge of the Wayne estate, right next to where Bruce’s parents were buried. The casket is closed so you can’t see how they dressed Jay, but Bruce had promised you in the car that he tucked Jason’s Robin mask into his pocket like you asked. It was the only input you had given on the whole ceremony but it did make you feel a little better knowing he had it with him. 

To the world, this may just be the funeral of Jason Todd, but in reality, today you are burying two people, and you wanted to honor that.

Dick comes to stand next to you so you are sandwiched between him and Bruce. Though you don’t as much as glance in his direction, you are grateful to have your remaining son beside you. It is a calming reminder that not everyone has been taken from you. At least…not yet. 

As the ceremony starts, you hold your head high and stare straight ahead. It is harder than you thought, the weight of a hundred eyes boring into the back of your head, but you manage to remain calm and composed throughout the sermon.

It isn’t until they begin lowering the casket into the ground that everything goes wrong.

Unable to take your eyes off of the box containing your son as it disappears into the dirt, your body begins trembling violently as your knees give out underneath you. Luckily, Bruce catches you before you hit the ground but his touch does little to ease your trembling. 

Still staring at the casket, you begin repeating, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…” 

Bruce pulls you tight against his chest, allowing you to bury your face into his jacket to muffle to sound. You claw desperately at the back of his suit, your chanting becoming more frenzied by the moment despite no longer looking at the grave. It’s just too much. All of it’s too much. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…” 

Mercifully, Bruce gently lifts you into his arms and carries you back to the car. You cling tightly to him, your arms around his neck, even as you continue shaking and babbling, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

“Shhh….” Bruce coos gently. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You did so good. I know he’d be proud of you, just like I am. But it’s over now, and I’m taking you back to the manor just like I promised. It’s going to be okay.”

You nod into his neck as you finally manage to quiet down some. The words are still swirling in your head but at least they are no longer spewing from your lips. You thought you were stronger than this. You thought you could at least hold it together for an hour for your family’s sake, but you were so wrong. 

Even though it had been a closed casket funeral, knowing Jay was in there, seeing it disappear into the ground forever…it finalized everything in a way you hadn’t felt yet. All those days laying in Jason’s room, numb and disconnected from the world, you had distanced yourself from the reality of the truth. But there was no escaping it now. Jason was gone and there was nothing you could do to change that.

When you reach the manor, Bruce once again lifts you into his arms though you half-heartedly tell him you can walk on your own yet part of you is glad when he ignores you and continues to carry you up the stairs. You are somewhat surprised when Bruce returns you to Jason’s room without even asking. For some reason, you had assumed he would try to take you to the master bedroom to be with him.

You expect him to climb into bed or kneel down beside it, but once again he shocks you as he simply turns and walks to the door. He only pauses a moment to say, “I had Alfred put a fresh change of pajamas on the dresser.” Then he walks out and closes the door behind him.

You aren’t sure what to think about this. Has Bruce finally given up trying to reach you? Was he more embarrassed about your behavior at the funeral than he admitted? Or has he finally accepted you need time alone to deal with your loss? 

Still pondering his behavior, you climb out of bed and slip off the black dress you are wearing. Tossing it to the side, you walk over to the dresser to look for the clothes Bruce mentioned. The sooner you get them on, the sooner you can return to your blanket cocoon and lose yourself to your fog of grief once more. 

But as you spy the pajamas and you reach for them, your eyes land on something on the wall. Despite the fact today is May 11, Jason’s calendar is still turned to April. Since he left for Ethiopia on April 25th and was killed on the 27th, he never got the chance to change it. He would never know which classical author’s picture had been selected for May. Instead, Jason ran out of time and now it will forever be stuck on William Shakespeare.

Time….If only you had more time….

Three and a half years. That’s all the time you had with your son. It seems insane that someone who was in your life for such a short amount of time could leave such an impact on you, but there is no denying it. You know deep in your soul that you could not have loved Jason more if you had given birth to him or known him since the day he was born. He is your son just as much as Dick is, as much as the baby you had lost is, and now he’s gone too.

And it’s all because of The Joker.

For the first time since you had crawled into Jason’s room that first night, something besides sorrow stirs in your gut. The red-hot burn of vengeance that you have let your grief extinguish suddenly flares to life in your veins and your hands clench tightly on the edge of the dresser. 

Memories begin flashing through your mind: Sitting next to the bed, begging God to save an 18-year-old Dick as he clung to life after being shot by The Joker while on patrol; Monitoring the Batcomputer in horror as The Joker released his laughing gas throughout the streets of Gotham; Listening to Lt. Gordon’s sobs as he told Bruce what The Joker had done to Barbara;  Watching Bruce lift Jason’s lifeless body out of the Batmobile as your heart shattered in your chest.

He is responsible for all this death and this pain, year after year after year. He is the reason other villains think they can get away with whatever deadly scheme they have up their sleeves. He is why Arkham Asylum has become a swinging door deterrent that no one fears. He is the one who killed your son.

And he’s not going to get away with it any longer. 

Every cell in your body knows what has to be done, yet you also know the consequences if you do it. Is stopping this lunatic really worth destroying what’s left of your family? Can you really give up everything to ensure no one else ever feels this pain you are feeling?

You think about if your places had been reversed and it had been you who had been killed instead and there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that Jason would have burned the world down if it meant stopping The Joker. And if that’s true, how could you do anything less for your son?

With a newfound purpose driving you and a clear goal in your sights, you flip the calendar to May and pin it in place. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle stares back at you as you press your finger to May 27th; 16 days from now and exactly one month after Jason’s death. That will be the day. The day you do what you should have done long ago. The day you will kill The Joker.

Taglist: @juliaarwj, @calsjack, @theclassicvinyldragon, @zebralover, @megumimind, @freerangesweets, @@lapidaverunt-scriptor, @kiryoutann, @charmellaposts, @imperialabysssins, @dawnwriterimagines, @avitute