#it's a jason todd story in every direction

[linkspooky]

JASON TODD VS. DABI: WHY NOT ME?

"You haven't been here long but you've seen him, right? The batman. The batman. He lives in darkness, to find the helpless and bring them into the light. So I have to wonder...why couldn't he do it for me?" The Boy Wonder: Issue #2

This is the story of the boy who didn't get saved. The story of a boy who really ought to have been saved. Of course, every victim deserves to be saved, but this boy was the son of a superhero. Can a hero who saves everyone, but fails to save his own son really be called a hero? As for the son, how does it feel to watch his father save complete strangers but let him fall to the wayside?

Jason Todd and Dabi are two characters with similar backstories and motives (so similar it's possible Dabi is outright based on Jason Todd) which are worthy of comparison. These are two tragic arcs which explore the conflict between a hero's responsibility to act as a father, and their responsibility to save people. As I said they are tragic because in both cases the hero fails, as a father, and a hero. However, I'm comparing the two because Jason Todd's story is a well written tragedy, and Toya's story is not.

If you were to write a story of my life, it would surely be a tragedy.

Aristotle's Poetics is the first attempt to define what Tragedy is, not as a story where sad things happen but a specific story structure. He outlines not only what makes tragedy, tragedy, but also what makes a good tragedy.

The Plot, then, is the first principle, and, as it were, the soul of a tragedy: Character holds the second place. A similar fact is seen in painting. The most beautiful colours, laid on confusedly, will not give as much pleasure as the chalk outline of a portrait. Thus Tragedy is the imitation of an action, and of the agents mainly with a view to the action.

I use this quote because the painting metaphor is a great way of explaining what I'm getting at, you can have a painting with the most wonderful colors, you can have a story with really good ideas like the Todoroki family plotline but if you don't use those colors correctly all you're going to end up with is a bad painting.

In poetics Aristotle clearly defines a tight well-structured plot as the first priority for effective tragedy, character as second.

Again, a beautiful object, whether it be a living organism or any whole composed of parts, must not only have an orderly arrangement of parts, but must also be of a certain magnitude; for beauty depends on magnitude and order. Hence a very small animal organism cannot be beautiful; for the view of it is confused, the object being seen in an almost imperceptible moment of time. Nor, again, can one of vast size be beautiful; for as the eye cannot take it all in at once, the unity and sense of the whole is lost for the spectator; as for instance if there were one a thousand miles long

To make sure you understand, it's vital in tragedy for all the pieces to fit together. Tragedy is a specific story format. Good tragedy uses the parts of a story well, but bad tragedy is sloppy and poorly put together. In tragedy, the whole has to be greater than the sum of its parts. The Todoroki Family are all good characters out of context, but the story could have enhanced their characters but detracted from them due to how poorly it is told. The fact that a lot of MHA fans are in love with the Todoroki family out of the context of the story, but also have constant complaints for how Horikoshi handles their plotlines is, in my opinion, very telling.

What Aristotle goes on to posit is the best tragedies do not come about by accident, but rather by the direct actions of the characters.

But again, Tragedy is an imitation not only of a complete action, but of events inspiring fear or pity. Such an effect is best produced when the events come on us by surprise; and the effect is heightened when, at the same time, they follow as cause and effect. The tragic wonder will thee be greater than if they happened of themselves or by accident; for even coincidences are most striking when they have an air of design. 

Therefore Tragedies require consequentialism, like Newton's Third Law, every action will have an equal and opposite reaction. To simplify a good tragedy arises from the consequences of the character's actions (or inaction). The most basic form is that the hero of the story will have a tragic flaw that they fail to improve upon in time and then leads to their destruction. In essence, tragedy is where the hero fails. Not only does the hero fail, but the hero loses, and that irreversible loss is what defines tragedy. Medea slays her own children, Oedipus rips his own eyes off and deserts his kingdom, Creon Antigone is buried alive and Creon's son, her fiancee, commits suicide.

These events share two things in common, they are irreversible (hence why they feel like good endings), and two they evoke catharsis. Aristotle defines the goal of tragedy to evoke terror and pity. We feel alongside these heroes, Medea was abandoned by the husband Jason who she left her home and slaughtered her own brother for, Oedipus did all of his crimes unwittingly and is a victim of fate, Antigone was doing the right thing by burying her brother so his soul could pass on to the afterlife.

There's all different sorts of tragedies, Hamliet explores more here. I'd say UTRH and Hellish Todoroki Family are tragedies centered around grief.

Tragedy works on extreme emotions, and extreme hard-hitting consequences to the hero's failures. The worst thing a tragedy can be is boring.

The Tragic Hero

Now that I'm done lecturing you let's actually talk about both My Hero Academia and Batman like I promised. Both of these stories don't actually feature the central victim as their protagonist, and that is a feature not a flaw.

Rather, the story we are being told is that of a tragic hero, failing to save a tragic victim because of their own personal flaws.

These flaws are called (hamartia) or "error in judgement". A hero, being called a hero of a story is often unaware of his flaws which is central to what makes them unable to fix those flaws in time. That flaw can later lead to a moral failing, such as Othello's jealousy, initially jealousy is an understandable emotion, but then it leads to him trusting Iago over his own wife and killing his wife in a rage.

Most importantly, the hero’s suffering and its far-reaching reverberations are far out of proportion to his flaw.

Let's begin with talking of the heroes and their flaws, Batman and Endeavor. My main reason for comparing these two is in these specific stories they have the same flaw, inability to move past their personal guilt towards their son, and the same conflict the duty of a father versus the duty of a hero.

However, Batman functions as a tragic hero, and Enji does not. The summary of their conflict is right here in these two panels.

A parent is required to place their children above everything else, because they are the ones responsible for bringing that child into the world. Bruce Wayne made the decision to adopt Jason. Enji made the decision to have children, however with Enji you have the added insidious motivation of he only wanted to make designer babies and just didn't care for the ones who didn't turn out right.

Bruce attempts to do both, to act as a father for Jason and also a crime fighter as batman but he can't do both. This comes to a head in Death of the Family when Jason is having serious trouble because of his lack of a strong parental figure, and Bruce knowing that Jason is in trouble chooses still to go off and fight crime instead of staying with him. The choice to place crimefighting over the child they chose to take responsibility for has the unintended consequence of getting that child killed.

Whereas Enji makes the same choice over and over again, ignoring Toya's clear troubles at the fact his father no longer spends time with him and choosing to run away to the world of heroes because he doesn't want to face the fact that his actions are severely hurting his son. Bruce's motivations are more sympathetic admittedly he wasn't actively practicing eugenics, but the choice is the same and the consequences are the same.

Both Bruce and Enji are forced to bear witness to the deaths of their children when they are not there, specifically because they made a choice to be a hero instead of staying by their child's side. A situation directly caused by their choice to be a hero over a father, and a situation that would have been avoided if they had stayed with their child in their time of need. Jason runs off when Batman tells him to stay and gets kidnapped by the Joker, if Enji had been on Sekoto peak that day Toya would never have accidentally lost control of his fire.

This is just the backstory however, the main event that kickstart this plot is the unexpected return from the dead of both Jason and Dabi. Each story follows the same plot beats. A new villain appears to challenge Endeavor / Batman. The villain reveals themselves as their dead son. Both Endeavor / Batman are given a chance to try reaching out to their sons, but they choose not to.

Then even though they are given a second chance with a miracle of a dead son coming back to them, they choose the exact same thing they chose before, being a hero and because of that the tragedy repeats itself. For both of them they are unable to save their son again, and the son goes through a second death. History repeats itself, the lesson isn't learned.

Their fatal flaw is their guilt. This is a story about grief and mourning after all, a son who is died, buried, but never grieved properly, never mourned, an open wound on the father suddenly coming back. The inability of each to process their grief blinds them from seeing the fact the son has come back, and they have a second chance.

Toya has internalized he is a failure, because Enji literally called him that. Jason believes that Batman thinks he is a failure. In both cases the father is the one who failed, Bruce at least acknowledges this but cannot communicate it in any way shape or form.

This guilt and responsibility both Enji and Bruce feel causes them to self-sabotage. They no longer have the confidence they are in the right (they no longer feel like heroes because they have failed to be heroes to their own son).

You can also add the layer of complication that since both men chose to be heroes in the past, they do not know how to handle the situation as a father now that they're being challenged to step up as one. Unfortunately, they are not the fathers that stepped up.

The reason their grief becomes a flaw is because they put their grief over their victims. . Each man is aware too much of their own failure, and while they should feel guilty they make the classic mistake of placing their own guilt over the feelings of the victim. The guilt they feel for causing the death and the genuine grief of losing a son is given priority over Jason and Dabi who you know... actually died.

An overwhelming grief and guilt is understandable because grief is a messy and human emotion, losing a child is an unimaginable tragedy that should never be inflicted on anyone.

Yet at the same time both Dabi and Jason are grieving to. This paradox that Batman only thinks of his own grief at losing a son and never stops to think about how Jason must feel leads to one of the best lines in Under the Red Hood.

"The father had lost a son, and now the son had lost a father."

Batman's guilt is so strong over being the cause of Jason's suffering, that the suffering of the victim himself is ignored. To be fair to My Hero Academia, the Todorokis say a similar line to Enji.

However, this is where I begin to get into the difference between ideas and execution. Tragedies are stories of actions and logical consequences, every action has an equal and opposite reaction in Under the Red Hood. Batman is punished for the choices he makes, the choices he doesn't make, and the choices he fails to make in time.

The Todoroki plotline features almost none of its character making any choices of substance, and because of that the plotline says the right things over and over again, but it all comes off as tell don't show.

I'm going to quote @codenamesazanka's post right here a couple of times because they describe the complete failure of the Todoroki plotline to show us a reason why we should be feeling things for the characters artfully.

We've heard Enji say this before - I'm sorry, I intend to atone. It's indeed the right thing to say, it's exactly what he should be saying and acting. Natsuo is declaring no contact - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. Touya calls him a coward - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. The public hates him - That's fine, I'm sorry, I accept this as part of my atonement and will continue. But you can only hear this so many times before you want to snap and beat the character, the story, the writing over the head with Enji's wheelchair. Why is that? He's behaving exactly as he should, and yet...

The reason why it fails to evoke strong feelings is because of what we'd called "narrative dissonance." The actions of Bruce and Enji are the same, they both neglect to do anything, make any real attempts to reach out to their victims because they're paralyzed by guilt.

However, we are told that they have entirely different arcs. Bruce's arc is a tragic fall. He's failing as a hero. While we are being told that Enji is experiencing an arc of atonement. Enji is supposed to be improving himself, and Bruce is supposed to be experiencing negative character development but they both do the exact same thing in story. Bruce neglects Jason, we are told by the story, by the characters in the story that Bruce is failing Jason. Enji does nothing in time to actually atone for Toya or try to help him, yet, we are told again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again that Enji is atoning with nothing substantive to show us this is the case.

To show what I meant instead of telling this scene is in chapter 252.

This scene is the ending point in chapter in chapter #426.

It's just him repeating the exact same sentiment and yet in a more than 150+ chapter gap, Enji never made any action to show he was now placing his family first. Enji didn't say anything to Dabi when he revealed himself as Toya. Enji didn't look for Toya in the months before the final war arc. Enji literally appeared on live TV in a broadcast that Toya was watching and said the very selfish "Watch Me" atone for the crime of creating Toya instead of literally talking about Toya or too Toya. Well, that would have rocked the boat too much... THAT IS LITERALLY THE POINT. Enji had to somehow break from tradition or make some significant sacrifice onscreen to his social standing to show that he's willing to put his family first. Enji decides to go along with Hawks decision to not face Toya head on, making the decision to be the hero for the final time which directly causes Toya to get up after Shoto brings him down non-lethally and make one last attempt to suicide bomb for his father's inaction.

Bruce does nothing for a long time in Under the Red Hood. He ignores his initial instinct that Jason came back and instead makes a long investigation on whether or not someone can come back from the dead in order to distract himself. When Jason takes the mask off, Batman already knew but was pretending otherwise because he didn't want to face the reality.

Even when Jason takes his mask off, Bruce still takes on the "I need to investigate this" angle even though Jason calls him out that deep down he already knows it's the truth. This of course foreshadows Bruce's underlying flaw, he doesn't want to face Jason head on because he feels too much grief about what happened to Jason and his guilt is more important than Jason's own grief. Just as the father has lost the son, the son has lost the father.

What follows is several chapters of Batman fighting crime as usual and making no attempts to directly search for Jason. They cross paths a few times but when they do Bruce doesn't follow. In fact, Bruce only shows up when Jason sends Bruce a sample of the joker's hair and Bruce knows that the Joker has kidnapped him out of Arkham. Bruce almost lets Jason get killed by Black Mask because he doesn't know whether to stop Jason or save him yet again, and then they have their final showdown where Jason has kidnapped the joker to demand Bruce kill him, and Bruce finally attempts to talk him down.

Out of context it sounds like I'm describing the same plotline, to the point where if you haven't read either, it looks like I'm complaining baselessly. Why is one hero doing nothing until it's too late good, and the other bad? The difference is of course context, or rather framing. Bruce's actions are called out by the people around him (Dick, Jason, Alfred) as him handling the situation wrong. Whereas both Enji's internal monologue and other characters say that he is doing his best to atone for his actions and deserves a chance, but the events we are shown in story are the exact opposite.

Here's another example to SHOW my point. Here's Dabi with my special, hardcover edition of under the Red Hood.

I reread the entirety of the fourteen chapter plotline and the majority of internal narrations come from characters outside of Bruce observing his behavior and commenting on how differently he's acting. Jason's backstory for instance is told by Alfred, not Bruce. Dick Grayson the first Robin comments on Batman's odd behavior. The rest are the third person narrator. Bruce has four instances of internal monologues spanning a few pages each in a 378 page story. (Alfred has the most internal monologues and he's presented as a more trustworthy unbiased narrator than Bruce, to get us to question Bruce's actions).

"Information travels on many routes, sometimes it comes predictably like the tides. You just need to know where to stand and meet it. Other times it's elusive and you have to root through the garbage to find it. In the last few years I've come to rely on Barbara Gordon, Oracle, we all did. Utilizing every form of surveillance equipment she has been the eyes and ear [...] but those days are over. I can't rely on anyone anymore. [...] and tonight it's also about the company I keep. It's different with him [night wing] out here. I think about when he was younger, when I was younger, it was different, simpler and I miss it. I miss those days, for that it's hard to be around him.

This first internal monologue is a case of unreliable narrator, because as soon as finishing it Dick Grayson / Nightwing shows up, offers Batman his help and while Bruce at first refuses it the two of them are forced to work together to fight Amazo. What does this show us? Bruce is not alone, but Bruce actively acts like he's alone ignoring the feelings of the other people around him. It exhibits a flaw of Bruce and the bad headspace he is in mentally (if I remember correctly Stephanie Brown recently died in the comics while this storyline was being published. It establishes Bruce's improper coping mechanism with grief, and how he is going about it the incorrect way.

Bruce says I work alone, and then Bruce says it's easier working with Dick, I miss it, but I can't go back to those days. It's bruce's contradictory thinking patterns in the same chapter that stop him. it's bruce's fault he cannot connect to Dick, and he is actively mourning the past because his relationship with Dick has changed.

Now the final part of the monologue in that chapter.

He's quick. Not just fast, agile. He's not thinking about his next move, he's just making it. He's been trained well. And there's something about him. Something familiar. There was something interesting about before he cut the line, before it had been taught. That had to have been practiced. Either that or just plain dumb luck. No it's not luck.

This is the first hint that Bruce already suspects it's Jason from early on but is in denial about it. This unreliable narrator trope also gives an agency to Bruce's decision, he is actively choosing to ignore the possibility that it's Jason because it doesn't want it to be.

Whereas, a lot of Endeavor's plot takes away any agency from him. For example, he doesn't even know that Dabi is Toya, because if he had the sneaking suspicion and ignored it like Batman did that might have made him look bad. We can't have the main character in a tragedy looking bad now can we?

The second monologue is more denial.

That device is from Kord industries. I should know. Ordered it special from them. How can he have it? No more dead ends. No more questions. No more guessing. Tonight I find out what is passing for the truth.

Reading between the lines this is outright confirmation Batman already knows.

The third is a brief reflection in his feelings for Jason.

The armor has to be light enough to fit but strong enough to protect. But sometimes a great many times, it's not strong enough. It wans't strong enough for Barbara who has to fight from her chair. It wasn't strong enough for Stephanie, other dear soldier enough dear grave. And it wasn't enough for Jason. Willful Jason. Who ignored the danger. Who spat at risk. Who was never frightened enough. I've always wondered... always... was he scared at the end? Was he praying I'd come save him? And in those last moments when he knew that I wouldn't. Did he hate me for it?

This monologue directly shows without stating it outright, Bruce is prioritizing his feelings of grief and failure mixing them in with his genuine grief over the loss of a son. it's selfish of him, but grief is a selfish emotion.

Here's the thing Bruce is allowed to be selfish and to not have the correct reaction to his grief, because the whole story is centered on Bruce being unable to get his shit together in time, and this picture into his emotions is an explanation as to why. Bruce is afraid of being hated by Jason. Jason of course has every right to hate him for failing as a father, but still I think not wanting to be hated to a person you loved so much and feel genuinely sorry over what you let happen to them is an understandable reaction.

Meanwhile we have Enji saying repeatedly all the right things in his monologue, the selfless, I don't need to be forgiven, it's okay if they hate me, I just need to atone but he never actually does anything. There's no explanation for why he isn't doing anything either, so that narrative dissonance. We're shown why Bruce doesn't act in time, he's internally a mess to be frank. We are not shown why Enji doesn't act in time because his internal monologue tells us again and again he's committed to atoning and he understands what the right thing to do is.

As Codenamesanzanka says:

Enji is still saying all the right things, but the story isn't giving him the opportunity to actually do the right things. To have his new actions matter. I have no doubt about his sincerity in his mantra, but without the 'show', it's hollow. Similarly, "Let's talk" is actually kinda bullshit too, because it's so vague. This is less about Enji, and more about the writing, how it set up this scene. "Let's talk" or "I want to talk" or any of that variation is repeated 6 times, without anything more or specific added.

There's an excess of repetition of Enji saying he wants to atone, he's ready to atone, without any of that materializing in the story.

As @class1akids says in this reaction post:

It also feels also super-hollow to say he's sheltering the family from the fallout, after they've just talked about how Fuyumi lost her job (and got a new one through the connections she herself built). How is he going to do that?

The fourth because I don't want to write it down, it's just Batman monologueing on how his partnership with Jason is still good and explaining the technical details of his fight with count Vertigo. It's in chapter 10 if you must look it up.

So four monologues total. Two monologues establish indirectly that Batman knows that Red Hood is Jason and doesn't want to face him. The third monologue establishes why he doesn't want to face him, he's afraid of being hated. The monologue is in line with Bruce's actions in the story, Bruce investigates several ways of reviving from the dead instead of looking for Jason.

The character's reactions around Bruce are also talking about how he's not acting like himself. Especially Alfred's who speaks of Bruce's indecision, on whether to put a stop to or save Jason.

"It is curious. He is lost in thought. It is not like him to spend vast stretches of time immobile, where his mind is gripped in the solitary process of deduction. This is quite different. He is hesitating. At a loss for what to do. I believe it is about Jason. And whether or not to stop him or save him."

This is illustrated in two scenes later where Jason spends a long time simply watching when Jason is fighting enemies, first in a fight against Captain Nazi, and second Black Mask. Jason even gives a direct callout of that behavior.

Jason: What the hell took you so long? Couldn't decide if you wanted to let me live. Batman: Shut up and fight.

Observed by Alfred Bruce is completely stalling and can't choose, observed by Jason Bruce can't decide whether to let Jason live or not. Bruce hesitates twice. We know why. We see it in action. It's called out as flawed behavior.

Now let's cover all the tell that don't show that is Endeavor's many monologues.

Pro Hero Arc:

I have to safeguard the future for them. That's the job for whoever's on top. What about the lives I cut short? Just demanding forgiveness isn't enough, it's too late for that. At this point I need to atone there's no other route.

Hellish Todoroki Family 1:

I'm trying to make ammends going forward. It might be too late. but I fall asleep every night thinking about it. Lately it's been the same dream. The wife and the kids looking happy at the dinner table. But I'm never there with them. It might be too late but I fall asleep every night thinking about what I can do for my family. I wish you could be here too, Toya. It's always the same dream. My whole family's there but not me. If I really care how they feel [I'll remain here].

I'm not going to read 200 chapters so I'm just going to ballpark it based on memory. Here we go.

Dabi's Dance:

My eldest, Toya didn't harbor frost within him. He didn't have a way to overcome the inescapable downside of overheating but I nevertheless sought to raise the boy as a hero. [...] Because Toya had more potential than me I placed my ambitions on his shoulders. I thought it could be you. You could have been the one to reach my eternal goal. My frustration... My envy... The ugliness in my heart... you could have been the one to smash it all to dust.

Plot twist this is the only monologue I like. It's different from all the others, and it's the only one where Enji is being emotionally honest. He put the emotional burden of his own emotional insecurities on an eight year old child, and expected to live vicariously through him and when Toya failed to live up to those expectations he just abandoned him. It alligns what we have been shown so far, Enji is not acting like a reptentant man here who realizes the harm he's done to Toya and only thinks of Toya as an extension of himself and his own regrets.

The Fight Against AFO:

My mistakes took the form as Toya leading to many stolen futures. The past never dies. Rage, resentment and even penace wound together toward the future. And the future is a path for the young. A path with so many branching choices. That's why I must win this. [I'll keep paying my penance. I'll win today and keep my eyes on Toya.]

When Enji decides to double Suicide with Toya:

I take full responsibility. I swore to bear the burden and live my life atoning for it all. However, you've been watching me all this time. While I couldn't be there to watch you. You were someone I especially needed to do right by. No I can't let you meet your end alone, but I won't let anyone else get caught up in our tragedy.

Hellish Todoroki Family Final:

I came to talk about what's to come. I'm retiring as a hero. That was my initial plan even before the war started, but now I can't even walk on my own. The hero endeavor burned to death. Your flames were really stronger than mine. [...] You're right. You know everything about me, Toya. After all you were always watching me. And you wanted me to do the same for you, but I didn't. Not matter what anyone says your heat does come from my hellflame. From now on I'll come everyday, so let's talk. It's too late now, so let's talk. [...] You're free to hate me. Anything is fine really, so throw it all at me.

This one is spoken dialogue but it's still a four-page long monologue. Every one of Enji's monologues with one exceptionsays the same thing: I'm sorry, I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for my actions.

We're repeatedly told Enji is atoning but he acts like Batman. Then, his actions should be framed as Batman, not atoning but avoiding any responsibility.

As observed by Class1akids when we were discussing the update:

Everyone else faces an uphill struggle with their lives, but we should all feel sorry for Enji atoning and being in hell. I hate Hori's compulsion to over-write his abusers and over-explain their atonement. He does this with Bakugou too but with Enji it's more irritating. It was so much more enjoyable when he just wrote the thing but didn't point at them and say -> look, they are atoning. Aren't they soooo cool??

Enji's internal monologues and the other characters frame him as some sort of martyr, while on the other hand it's clear by both Batman's actions and Alfred's observations he's not acting like his usual self. In fact, this is an interpretation of Under the Red Hood that I love from the writers of the video game Arkham Knight that does a less tragic retelling of Under the Red Hood:

Batman doesn't fight victims. He saves them.

Therefore if Batman is fighting Jason, a victim, he's not acting like Batman. I'm also fine with Arkham Knight being an Under the Red Hood retelling because it's a different story. Comics do this all the time, different universe versions, popular storylines adapted into different mediums. It also works as a commentary on the original story, by showing what Batman could have done to lead to a more positive outcome it makes Batman's choices in Under the Red Hood worse and more tragic because he could have saved Jason, there was still a chance.

So here we have two flawed tragic heroes who are meant to be both pitied and condemned for their actions. One of them is all pity with no condemnation. The other is both pity and condemnation, Batman is grieving, but also he's failing his responsibility towards Jason. Therefore one protagonist works, the other fails utterly.

I'm not saying abusers don't deserve redemption. I'm not saying Enji should have died in order to atone. I'm not saying that the underlying problem with the arc is that they decided to make Enji sympathetic and a focus of the arc. The most important problem is the breaking of one of the fundamental rules of storytelling: Show, Don't Tell.

The Tragic Villain

Not only does The Hellish Todoroki Family plotline fail to make Enji a compelling protagonist, it also fails it's biggest victim. Now, these are both stories that end with the hero failing to save their victim. So if both of these stories have the same ending, why am I saying it failed Dabi, but not Jason?

Well, let me explain.

Dabi and Jason are both villains turned victims. The stories themselves are about this ambiguity. How much should the be held responsible for their own choices? If they are actively harming innocent people, then shouldn't they be stopped? Should they be automatically be forgiven just because of the pain and grief they've suffered, even if they've been causing it to others?

Both characters are also reflective of their fathers because they are too being selfish in their grief, they want their grief acknowledged and so are violently lashing out.

Jason and Dabi both make plays at being vigilantes at first, Dabi wants to inherit Stains will, and Jason Todd wants to be a better bat-man by taking control of the drug trade in Gotham and cutting crime down by executing gang heads. However, neither of them are being honest with this and it's shown through their actions, both of them abandon their original plans.

In the final showdown all Toya cares about is facing Enji on the battlefield, and when he's on the brink of death his mind erodes to the point where all he can do is scream for Enji's attention while his flames get hotter and hotter.

Let's take about Jason first and how his narrative treats him a whole lot better and more sympathetically, with more humanity than Batman. Jason is still held responsible for his choices, he is criticized by Bruce for murdering gang leaders and passing it off as justice. He's also blatantly shown to be a hypocrite. My favorite scene from Red Hood: Lost Days, the official UTRH prequel.

"I want to kill the joker in a cool way. Just sniping the Joker from a rooftop isn't dramatic enough for me."

This scene, and the final scene of UTRH underlines Jason isn't executing criminals because he believes it's the right thing to do, or because of his stated motivation that killing the joker would prevent more future victims.

Instead his every action is to set up a scenario where he makes a selfish demand of Bruce. He wants Bruce to prove to him that he would choose him over being a hero, by setting up his final scenario. Him, the Joker, and Batman. Jason will shoot the Joker. Bruce has a gun. He can either choose to let Jason kill the Joker, or kill Jason to stop him, either way it makes it clear what Bruce's priorities are.

The underlying reason for this is similiar to Bruce. Just like Bruce, Jason is deeply afraid that Batman doesn't love him. That he thinks of him as a failure. (This is Toya's main reason too).

He also interprets Bruce's failure to avenge him to mean that Bruce didn't even care enough to mourn him. If Bruce loved him enough, he'd choose him over the joker, but he's so afraid that Bruce doesn't love him enough that he's going to force Bruce to choose.

Along the way he's also going to behead several crimelords in order to put an exclamation point on that point.

The way Jason completely unravels in the confrontation shows this insecurity, he begins with monologueing about how batman should totally kill people, until his fear that he wasn't important enough, and his grief at losing his father is revealed.

Batman: I know I failed you, but I tried to save you. I'm trying to save you now. Jason: Is that what what you think this is about? Your letting me die. I don't know what clouds your judgement worse, your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality. Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me. Jason: But why on god's green earth is he still alive? Ignoring what he's done in the past. Blindly, stupidly disregarding the whole graveyards he's filled with people. The friend's he's killed. I thought killing me - that I'd be the last person you ever let him hurt. Jason: If it had been you that he beat to a bloody mess. If it had been you he left in agony. If he had taken you from this world. I would have done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil, this death worshipping garbage, and sent him off to hell.

Direct statement, it's irresponsible of Bruce to let Joker live after killing Jason and should have put him down to prevent future victims. Reading between the lines, Batman not taking revenge for Jason is a sign that he didn't love him enough, Jason loves Batman more because he would have taken revenge.

As the confrontation continues and Jason's mental spiral worsens, to the point where he can't keep up his pretense of self-righteousness.

Jason: I'm not talking about killing cobblepot, or scarecrow, or riddled, or dent. Jason: I'm talking about him. Just him. And doing it because...he took me away from you.

The father had lost the son, and now the son had lost the father.

Jason's revenge is just a cover, for his grief at losing Bruce. I think this also shows a really positive aspect of Jason's character to humanize him instead of condemning him for his actions to ignore or even justify the suffering he endured: Jason really loves Bruce.

I mean how meaningful is the statement: "Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me."

Bruce has been afraid to hear the whole time that Jason hates him, that he won't forgive him, but Jason loves him deeply. In fact his love is almost equal to his rage because Jason is a deeply emotional person, and these little details make him human and not just like a plot obstacle that Bruce has to face. A metaphor for his past failures.

Dabi is drawn as a crying boy who wants comfort, Jason is shown to be a crying boy who wants comfort through both dialogue and action without us directly needing to be told. It's a heartbreaking line and doing it because he took me away from you and it lands perfectly because the narrative wants us to just look at Jason's grief. It doesn't add an asterisk* even though he was in pain, he's done unforgivable things that can't be justified to undercut Jason's suffering.

In fact that might be another underlying problem with The Hellish Todoroki Family, the narrative tries too hard to make you feel a certain way instead of just presenting things as they are to make you come to your own conclusion. UTRH doesn't support Jason's revenge based serial killing of villains. It doesn't say he's justified to cut off the heads of mobsters. However, it doesn't excessively state "Well, I'm really sorry what happened to you but what you've done can't be forgiven" so we don't have to challenge ourselves to feel too much empathy for Jason's suffering.

Meanwhile even when Toya tries to express his rightful anger and grief, we're always met with someone shutting him down and saying well yeah, but you're wrong, involving innocent people is unforgivable.

As said by @stillness-in-green in the replies to this post:

I think so much harm (in-universe, but the state of the Twitter fandom makes me think the messages are pretty toxic irl, too) comes out of portraying the Heroes as needing to weigh in on the *morality* of the Villains' actions before they gauge "saving" them, when that is not a thing that glorified cops have any business thinking they have the right to do. Demanding repentance before the rehab is so bizarre.

You can say someone's actions are wrong without using it as a factor to consider whether or not their suffering as a human being should be acknowledged, and like I said there's multiple instances of people just yelling at Toya how immoral he is instead of addressing the elephant in the room.

You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong.

(Okay, I understand that some people have interpreted this as a show of Honnae and Tatamae, the Todoroki's who are a very repressed household are finally talking about their feelings even if those feelings are selfish and ugly).

(I'm not criticizing Shoto for saying that the people he killed were his own choice necessarily, Shoto is a character who's actions need to be read more deeply than his words he was dedicated to bringing Dabi down without him burning himself any further start to finished. My criticism lies in the fact that Hori uses Shoto as a mouth piece because he thinks we need to be reminded that murder is bad).

However, even acknowledging that time and place man, time and place. They couldn't have done that in the aftermath, when Toya isn't burning to death?

Hey buddy, you're being selfish.

Toya: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I'M MELTING, I'M MELTING.

This is I feel the underlying problem with the way the arc is written, not because the Todorokis are a very traditional Japanese family and there are cultural reasons they express their emotions differently, I'll give a caveat to that it's a nuance I might not understand.

However, I am arguing the actual problem is tell don't show. Horikoshi thinks that we as an audience need to be told multiple times that murder is bad, and we cannot be trusted to interpret that on our own.

Under the Red Hood shows both sides of Batman and Jason's debate, and let's us just come to the conclusion that Jason is in the wrong because revenge isn't justice. Horikoshi reaches no shit sherlock levels of telling us that we're not supposed to approve of Dabi's murders.

it's also a matter of giving Dabi narrative space to express his feelings, like every time Dabi tries to talk he is continually shut down (Shoto does engage Dabi talk to him and listen to why he didn't come back though I'll give him that) and it seems to be to push forward this weird idea that you shouldn't sympathize with the pain Dabi has endured or the ways he's dehumanized unless he does something to prove he deserves to be treated like a human being first.

Jason gets to monologue and make an entire argument, and his argument also shows the depths of his love for Bruce and what a deeply feeling person he is, and how those feelings being hurt and twisted could logically lead to his lashing out.

Compare this to Dabi who doesn't get a final monologue, but is instead reduced to a completely mindless state where he just cries out for his dad's attention. He doesn't get to make his argument.

Jason and Dabi both choose to blow themselves up, but Jason gets enough character agency to show this is a deliberate choice he's making even if it's the wrong one. He retains his character agency and ability to make decisions until the end of the narrative.

Jason's also you know physically crying. The end result of the narrative is about wrong choices that both Bruce and Jason make together, and then suffer the consequences together. Bruce watches the same failure play out again and he isn't able to save Jason, Jason doesn't get what he wants, he doesn't get revenge and he doesn't get to reunite with his father. It's tragic for both of them, and brought about by decisions both of them made.

Whereas yes Dabi makes a lot of bad decisions leading up to the last war arc, but in the end his final fate is up to a choice Enji made to not face Toya in the final battle.

However, while the final consequence of the battle is brought about more by Enji's decisions than Toya's, it's Toya who endures all the suffering and punishment. It's Toya who is in an iron coffin, and doomed to slowly and agonizingly die with all of his skin burnt off unable to move. Toya doesn't even get agency after the arc is over. Enji still has a wheelchair, Enji can still move around, Enji's still fucking rich, he's not in prison for his actions, he as Rei wheeling him around.

Toya's agency and choices are all taken from him, presumably to serve the plot purpose of making Enji save him to finish off his arc, and then ENJI DOESN'T EVEN SAVE HIM.

Also I think it's important to mention, Bruce's tragic ending is brought about by him attempting to save both, trying to save the joker and Jason with the same action. Whereas Enji's tragic ending is brought about by Enji NOT LIFTING A FUCKING FINGER TO HELP. Yet, it's Dabi who has the lion's share of suffering, and is sentenced to this horrific state of being skinless in an iron coffin and only being able to be awake a few minutes a day with no choice but to waste away.

Bruce is also immediately called out for his actions, by the Joker of all people, you handled this all wrong, it's your fault. Bruce is right to not kill the joker, killing the Joker would not have solved any of Jason's problems, but the fact that he put off facing Jason for so long, and his inability to communicate that he loves Jason is what leads to Jason thinking that the only way to prove Bruce loves him is to force him to choose. It's because Bruce has utterly failed to show him in any other way that he is loved.

Joker: Oh my god, I love it! You manage to find a way to win, and everyone still loses. I'm going to be the one who gets what he wants tonight, badda bing, badda boom."

I'd also like to add that a lot of agency in Enji's actions are taken away too, to make him look more blameless. It's not Enji's fault that he didn't say anything to Dabi during Dabi's dance, he passed out because he had a punctured lung. It's not Enji's fault that he spent a month protecting Deku instead of searching for Toya, he had to protect innocent people. It's not Enji's fault that he didn't go immediately to face Toya in the final war arc Hawks told him not to.

It's not Enji's fault that he made Shoto and Toya fight like Pokemon instead of cleaning up his own mess, and also he feels really sorry for it and as soon as he's done punching the bad guy he'll look after Toya he promises.

Enji does get called out for this behavior but it falls flat because it only comes from the villain AFO, and Toya himself. As I stated above too, the ending is more influenced by Enji's actions not Toya's (because Toya's agency is stripped away until he's mindless) but Toya is the one who has to die while Enji gets to live and atone.

That is the real sticking point for The Hellish Todoroki Family, the way it ends.

Themes Are For Eight Graders

The underlying problem with the whole arc and why The Hellish Todoroki Family fails as a tragedy, is because it wasn't written to be a tragedy.

The above quote is from an interview with the writers of the widely hated Game of Thrones Season 8, which took a sudden tragic turn for Dany's character, gave her an incredibly dehumanizing ending of being put down like a rabid dog by her own lover, an ending that was neither foreshadowed nor did it match with anything written before.

In this meta here by @hamliet it goes far more into depth that Game of Thrones isn't a tragedy, but a piece of Romantic fiction (not a love story, Romanticism is a genre of big emotions, the beauty of life, larger than life ideas hence why it fits well with fantasy genre, it can be sad but it doesn't follow tragic structure).

Dany is a romantic heroine, a deconstruction of the idea of the classic warrior princess trope, and you know a colonizer, but she's not meant to be written as an inherently bad person. There are people who say that Dany was going to die in the original books. I'm one of those people. Me. However, context and framing matters, Dany for all her colonizing ways does genuinely want to do the right thing, so it's likely she'd die a heroic death as a reflection of her selfless intentions (and intentions do matter for fictional characters) whereas in the show she's put down as a villain.

Now watch me I'm going to coin a term for future literary critics to use: Narrative Gaslighting.

Narrative gaslighting is different then Show Don't Tell, where an author has just failed to properly show what they're trying to tell you in the story. Narrative Gaslighting is when a narrative deliberately tries to mislead you, straight up lies to you, or just insists things that did not happen totally happened guys. Much like real gaslighting, Narrative Gaslighting makes you feel stupid for interpreting things a certain way and insists you were wrong all along.

Narrative gaslighting is when Tyrian gives a speech that everyone should have suspected Dany when she burned slavers alive that she was secretly evil and would one day turn on them.

Like, no.

Dany is flawed because she is a foreigner, interfering with the politics of a different country that she does not understand in order to gain enough resources and men to return to her home country and invade that country to exercise her right as a Targeryn to uphold the divine right of kings.

Game of Thrones doesn't mention any of that shit that's in alignment with the previous actions in the story, it's just insisting the very ableist notion that Dany was insane all along and her violence towards other people is the result of her mental illness.

(Also before anyone says, so if she's a colonizer than how can she have good intentions, everyone is Bad in Game of Thrones, they're all waging war to vie for a throne, monarchy is bad guys. IDK how to tell you that Game of Thrones has gray on gray on gray on gray morality).

(Also this aside ties into the hangup of MHA and most popular fandom culture on Twitter, that Dany's moral failings somehow disqualify her from her humanity. In spite of the fact that on top of all of that she's a rape victim, and like, Dany's only on that continent in the first place because she was sold as a bride.)

But here's the same weird subtext that Horikoshi's writing of Dabi. The fact that Dabi was continually victimized and denied human dignity does not need to be addressed, because he did the bad things and didn't atone properly enough for it first.

In essence this random post on the gunnerkrigg court forums I found on the same day the chapter came out, displaying apollo's gift of prophecy.

"When someone is persecuted, it's important to inform everyone about their flaws. That way you don't have to feel anything about all the times that they were denied human dignity."

So, Dany is not written as a tragic hero but a romantic one, we as an audience are both meant to acknowledge her flaws and sympathize with her, not demonize her in an ableist way for being insane, and even if Dany is meant to die the tragic way she dies does not match up with all of the narrative foreshadowing that was built before that.

Like, for instance a lot of POC after the show ended kept telling everyone that Dany's actions in a foreign country were seriously problematic, and not only did the audience not listen but the showwiters didn't acknowledge it with the same subtlety as the books. So those people especially were able to pick up Dany's character flaws, and when the show finally acknowledged them it's not even in the way that critiques of the show were pointing out Dany's flaws it was just "she was insane all along." Not like taking time to go "no matter what the intention, interfering with the politics of a foreign country is wrong."

The problem with the Todoroki arc is essentially the same, down to the ableism (because outsiders continually call Dabi either a maniac or insane Demon without even giving credence to his grievances about hero society he's just reduced to an insane fringe element of society, and Dabi himself is reduced to a completely mindless, childish, insane screaming state where he can't make active decisions).

The Todoroki Arc is not set up to us as a tragic one. The ending is pretty clearly telegraphed to the whole audience. People are not wrong for thinking that Toya's ending would be either rehabilitation like Rei with the eventual hope of being welcomed home, or some kind of house arrest where he still gets to be with his family.

Everyone happy at the Dinner table and Enji not sitting with them.

"I wish you could be here, Toya."

"We all have to go stop, Toya."

"In that case, I'll make him sit down for a bowl with me."

Even Shoto's efforts to take down Toya non-lethally are rendered completely pointless, because Toya gets back up again and then burns himself alive (completely by his own choice so no one has to feel bad that they failed).

The story sets up the expectation that Toya is going to be brought home and sit down for a meal with his family. Then it makes you feel stupid for going in an entirely different direction. It was always going to end this way didn't you know The Todorokis are a tragedy?

Well, I just spent a very long section of this thesis statement illustrating that if it's supposed to be a tragedy, then it's still not written well.

It's a written as a romantic story of a family healing, and the villain getting saved, only for the villain not to be saved and the story to just keep on going like not getting saved isn't a huge failure. This is something that should permanently destroy the main characters, that they got the chance to repeat Sekoto peak and be there this time and they all utterly failed. I feel bad for Shoto most of all because he did everything right, and he still loses his brother, but does the story show that?

The problem is the story is blatantly lying to you about the fact that Toya was somehow saved, even though he LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE HELLRAISER. To quote Codenamesanzanka again:

But I feel the story couldn't give us that because it will remind the reader and everyone just how much Touya will be missing. In-story, talking any more will overburden Touya's heart - and how apt is that metaphor? So let's talk about how we'll talk, but that's all that's allowed here for this scene. Else we'll see how unfair it is that Touya has to be confined to this room, he isn't with his family and they have to come to this prison just to tell him about their day, and soon he will be gone. Details make it real, and it would've exposed the lie that Touya was saved in an actual way. The story knows it too - "this extra time Shouto gave us." This is all 'extra', and not the core. [...] If the story was sincere that this is a case of "it's simply too late" - as it should be!!! imo, to really drive in the clear point that they failed, they did not get the save they wanted, because that's the truth - the tone of the chapter isn't tragic enough for that. The tone is going for 'Making Peace With This'. We've skipped the stages of grief and all we have is acceptance. The characters have accepted this, and so must the readers as well.

Therefore it's narrative gaslighting, the story is making us doubt our perceptions and trying instead to manipulate us to feel a certain way. We don't have to question the unfairness of Toya's fate, because look at all the people he's hurt, and look how Enji is atoning and taking responsibility.

The story builds up the idea that Enji will choose Toya. That he will choose being a father over being a hero. Enji doesn't do that, and it's Toya who suffers the horrific, painful consequences while Enji gets off mostly scott free. Mind you it's also ableist to suggest that being in a wheelchair is some sort of life-ending consequence like he's fine. The story even goes out of its way to say how avoidable this ending could have been if Enji or Rei or someone lifted a single finger to give Toya the acknowledgement he wanted, and then gives it a "Too little, Too Late" conclusion but doesn't acknowledge that this is where it's ending and instead tells us that Enji has successfully atoned.

"Everyone's watching me. So this is what it's like. If it was such a simple thing, then why not sooner?"

If it was going to turn out this way Toya should have just died here, not because death would somehow be a mercy compared to life in prison, but because the Todoroki Family doesn't deserve to get to pat themselves on the back. If they let Sekoto Peak happen a second time, then they should have to deal with the consequences of that.

It would be consistent is my point. This is written as a "Too Little, Too Late" kind of ending, but we don't get the emotional response from the Todorokis that they've let Toya die a second time.

On the other hand, UTRH has the exact same tragic ending but it doesn't make me angry because it's honest about it. The Todorokis let Sekoto peak happen a second time. Batman let Death in the Family happen a second time, but look at how even the narration and comic panels of the story acknowledge it.

"Fate is a funny thing. It swells up like a raging current and we are forced to travel. It provides us no exit. No deviation. It drops us in a bottomless ocean and compels us. We either swim, or drown, and sometimes as we struggle against the tide, a great truth arises."

One ends with Enji meaninglessly stating that he'll spend the rest of his life atoning for Toya and watching over him (which I guess will be like two months tops) for the fifth time. The other ends with Batman being lectured by the Joker of all people of how he chose wrong and being forced to watch once again as a warehouse blows up, and he's completely helpless to save Jason.

UTRH ends with the message that Batman sucks, Enji's atonement arc ends with Natsuo calling him cool for atoning and UTRH makes me like Batman way more as a character. Whereas at this point I feel nothing from the Todoroki Family, except for a disgust for the way that Toya not only has to die, but has to die a slow, gruesome death while the rest of his family walks away with the small comfort of "oh at least we'll get to say what we need to say before Toya passes."

Especially with the fact that Toya's greatest fear was that when he died, he died meaninglessly because his family never grieved him and all moved on with their life. I guess we don't have to analyze how gross the underlying message that criminals don't deserve to be sympathized with because themes are for eighth graders.

EPILOGUE

The post is finished but apparently everyone expects me to cover every single possible angle even in posts this long.

You didn't address the cultural aspect. Under the Red Hood is a western story, and Todoroki Family is based on eastern concepts.

The post isn't about that. The post is long enough I can't cover every single topic. Here's someone who covered that topic thoroughly. This one discusses more about the nuances of collectivism.

Also, since the Todoroki Family obviously copied Under the Red Hood's homework, it warrants a comparison. Especially since it seems to critically misunderstand what made the original work.

Which is a valid form of Literary Criticism, as Ursula K Le Guinn once said:

 It doesn’t occur to the novice that a genre is a genre because it has a field and focus of its own; its appropriate and particular tools, rules, and techniques for handling the material; its traditions; and its experienced, appreciative readers—that it is, in fact, a literature. Ignoring all this, our novice is just about to reinvent the wheel, the space ship, the space alien, and the mad scientist, with cries of innocent wonder. The cries will not be echoed by the readers. Readers familiar with that genre have met the space ship, the alien, and the mad scientist before. They know more about them than the writer does.

The Todorkis aren't all to blame for Toya. Natsu, Fuyumi and Shoto are innocent:

You're right. It's just easier to refer them as the Todorokis then specifying "Enji and Rei" each time.

You didn't mention Shoto once in this post:

I have no cricism for Shoto's role in all this. In fact I think he's the best written part. I praise it here.

Shoto is a good boy, and he deserved to spend more time with his brother. The fact he won't be able to sit down and have dinner of him, is the greatest tragedy of them all.

[battymommastuff]

A Night with the Knight

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Masterlist

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

Wherever you were, it was warm. Warm, but cold at the same time. You felt safe, but you were also in danger. Maybe the danger was the freaky cult that tried recruiting you. The warmth, you came to realize was a blanket draped across your body. You'd woken up in a dark, unfamiliar place for the second time tonight. The sound of rushing water filled your ears along with the faint buzzing of the dim lights, and sounds of machines in every direction. 

This place was far too dark to be a hospital, and you were glad for that. Any public setting was the last place you wanted to be right now. The last thing you remembered was Batman hovering over you after saving you from your kidnappers. After that were faint memories from you going in and out of consciousness. The city flying by faster than it ever did, the masked face of the man who saved you, and brief images of a black tailcoat with white gloves. All of these images were taking their sweet time processing in your mind. Your entire body felt like it was hit by a train despite you having the body of an acrobat. 

Slowly, you got out of the hospital bed you were in. You wanted to find somebody. It was too quiet, and it felt like you had eyes on you at all times...which you did. Walking out of the little room you were in, you saw a massive screen that lit up the area around it. Pictures of your captors, the leader of the Court...and several members of the circus were all over the screen. You looked down to see the back of Batman's head as he typed away on the keyboard, "How are you feeling?" He asked, suddenly. You jumped then looked around. No one else was around, but how did he know you were there? You didn't make any noise. 

"A-A little sore..." You answered while closing your robe around your body more. The warmth you felt was definitely from the blanket you had when you woke. It was freezing in here, "Where am I? I figured you would drop me off at the nearest hospital and leave me there." You asked, with a small laugh at the end. Batman stopped typing on the computer and turned his chair to face you. He stood up, and you were in awe at his size. Not only was he tall, he was very well built. No wonder it was so easy for him to take down all those Court members. You felt very intimidated by his presence, but oddly attracted to it. 

"You're in the Batcave. It's too dangerous to take you into any public setting. You have knowledge of the most dangerous group in the city, the entire Court is no doubt hunting for you." Batman explained, in the most monotone voice. You already knew this, but hearing it just made it worse. Where would you go? All of your possessions, money, your life was still at the Circus. You didn't have any family that cared for you anymore, and you had nowhere safe to go. The more you thought about your life being over, the more emotional you got. It made the man in front of you highly uncomfortable to watch you break down. 

"You could have broken the bad news to her in a more gentle way. Maybe start with offering her warm clothes, Sir?" A British voice asked, followed by the sounds of footsteps coming down metal steps. You wiped your eyes quickly then looked over to see the man in the tailcoat that you saw briefly. His face was very familiar, but where? As he stepped closer, your eyes widened. This man was the butler of billionaire Bruce Wayne. You've seen him in pictures as well as on the news when Bruce Wayne made an appearance at events for the city. You looked from him to Batman, and you could tell from the uncovered parts of his face who was under the mask. It seemed that Batman also knew what you were thinking, so he lowered his mask.

"Would you like some warm clothes?" 

"Ugh...excuse him, his bedside manner is in need of work." 

You looked between the two men who just told you the one thing that the entire world wanted to know, and acted as if it wasn't a big deal. Did they trust you to keep the secret? Of course you would keep it, but how did they know they could trust you? Did they have some memory wiping device that would erase your memory after they got what they needed out of you? Judging from the tech that covered the place, it didn't seem that far fetched, "W-Why are you telling me your identity?" You finally ask after several seconds of awkward silence. 

"I'm going to move you into my manor, that I way I can monitor you as well as get information about the circus." Batman answered while turning back towards the computer. Your jaw dropped a bit. He didn't even consider if you wanted to live with him or not. Not that you were going to turn it down. The chance to live in a mansion? You'd be stupid to refuse, "I will retrieve your things later, but I will take you to buy a new wardrobe in the morning." You're going to be spoiled too? Maybe you should be thanking the Court for kidnapping you. 

"I suppose I should thank you then, Mr. Wayne." You said with a small smile. He turned towards you and gave you a small smirk. 

"Call me Bruce."

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TAGLIST

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[blu3n]

JASON X FREADER

Established relationship : married, fluff/loving

TW : English is not my native language, it may be first person in Jason Peter Todd's speech.

Obs : open orders (Jason todd)

@blu3n : I do not allow under any circumstances to steal my story

🪼

Jason wouldn't be the type to get down on one knee to ask you to marry him or make a declaration of love, no, he's not even romantic.

but I believe he would be the type to show how much he loves you and when he is sure he wants to marry you he would do it, in his own way but he would do it

and speaking of marriage, I believe it would be like this.

how did you meet:

Wedding was the word Jason never thought he would think of in his entire life. The day he looked at you, your hair messy in the wind, your face shining in the sun, looking like you were arguing with someone on the phone, it made him turn his neck and stare at you. It was the strangest way to meet you.

Another time was when he was returning home after a tiring night of patrol... His eyes followed to the same place where he saw you, and there you were, only more dressed up, your wavy hair that seemed to be styled with curlers, your nails beautiful and your minimal makeup, just enough to leave anyone speechless.

The other times he saw you, he would gather up the courage and ask for directions. Yes, he knew Gotham like the back of his hand, but he wouldn't waste time getting to know you by pretending to be a new guy in town.

After that night, he was fully aware that it wouldn't be the first or the last time he would meet you. Jason found himself falling for you before he even realized it, even with the paranoia and PTSD episodes that accompanied it. Deep down, he knew you were different... He knew you weren't a bad person; that conviction resonated deep within him.

So, after years of building that wonderful bond—that warmth that everyone feels when they're truly in love—he finally decided to ask for your hand in marriage. After a period of dating that brought you even closer, this was a significant step for someone like him.

There you were, dressed in a stunning white gown, walking into the ceremony next to your father. The woman of his life, the woman he adored with every step she took... the woman he would give his life for.

The wedding was reminiscent of Dick and Barbara Gordon's, held in a beautiful beachfront location, with only close friends and family in attendance. He didn't want anything extravagant and was relieved to know that you preferred a simple celebration too.

That moment was so magical that he couldn't hold back the tears of joy that streamed down his face.

"Oh God, you gave me a goddess," he muttered to himself as he fought to keep more tears from falling.

"Go ahead, man," his older brother Dick's voice echoed in the background, accompanied by a gentle slap on his shoulder.

As he approached, he took her hand gently, afraid to squeeze it too hard and hurt that wonderful hand. I was shaking so hard I was sure you could feel it. "I love you. You look beautiful," he said, his voice full of adoration as he stood in front of you. "Thank you, you look great too," you replied, smiling brightly, barely able to hold back the tears of joy that streamed down your face.

After the priest's speech about the wedding, he asks the question to which you happily answer, accepting the wedding vows, for he was the love of your life.

"And you, Jason? Do you take (your name) to be your wife?"

Jason knew he had won the lottery; a woman like you was nowhere to be found. The depth of love he had received from you had made you his home... you had become a part of his flesh, a part of himself, and he would never let you go.

"Yes... I do," Jason said, his gaze never leaving yours for a second.

"Now you may kiss the bride—" Without waiting for the priest to finish, he leaned down and captured your lips, sealing the bond of marriage and declaring it officially in front of your friends and family.

He loves you.

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x BATMOM!Reader

Title: "Blood thirsty Gremlin"

Character(s): Bruce Wayne, Female!Batmom!Reader, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, and Tim Drake.

Warnings: None

Prompts Used: In bold print and credit goes to @skriveting

NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO POST/TRANSLATE MY WORK TO OTHER APPS OR WEBSITES. Thank you <3

OTHER BATMOM!READERS (CLICK THE TITLES)

"A Snowman, A Nosebleed, and the Wayne's"-CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

"Annabelle" - HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

"A Trophy and Chloroform"

Every summer, Bruce would have the field behind Wayne Manor cleaned, trimmed, and tended to. The grass would be cut, the trees would be cleaned up, and overall, the field was maintained. Bruce even added a man-made stream to divide the field in half. 

There was reasoning as to why this said field was properly maintained, and so much effort was put into it. This reasoning was the Wayne’s Summer Fun! (At least, that is what you called it)

Every Summer, your family would choose one day out of the week to camp, cook out, and stay in the field to play games all week long. 

Bruce and the boys gave up their vigilante antics for the week so you could spend quality time together. Plus, you just wanted the boys to feel like they had a good childhood, and it wasn’t just full of training and fighting criminals once the sun went down.

It was the end of the week and tomorrow the boys would go back to their normal schedule, and you and Bruce would go back to work. Every year, you would end “The Wayne’s Summer Fun” with a game of capture the flag. The boys loved it, and every year, you would switch up team members so the games would stay interesting. 

And every year, one of the teams would receive a trophy, that was normally given to the winner of monopoly, and every year, someone would end up in a fight. (But that story has already been told: click here to read).

This year, your team consisted of Bruce and Damian. Jason, Dick, and Tim were the blue team, and your team was the red team. Alfred was merely just the mediator, and he would sit in a deer stand that Bruce had built just for the purpose of this game. 

Alfred always explained the game, even though everyone knew how to play. “Each team has a flag and will hide it at eye level, but not in direct site. Each team needs to have an offense and a defense, and a spot they call jail.” he said, and he cleared his throat. “Switch offense and defense often. Those who are in offense will go and try to capture the other team’s flag and take it back to their side of the field. Those in defense, will capture those who try to take the flag and put them in jail.”

Jason sighed, “Alfred, we know-”

Alfred spoke over Jason, “HOWEVER, players of the team that has captured members, can retrieve their partners from the jail and take them back to their base. As always, protect your flags! The first team to retrieve a flag and get it to their home base, will receive this, trophy.” Alfred smiled as he held the gold trophy in his hand.

Each side had an equivalent number of trees, and you, Bruce, and Damian took off running towards your home base. Damian held the flag, “Okay, between these trees will be perfect. The bushes cover it, and its eye level, so technically we are not breaking any rules.”

You and Bruce looked over at each other, “Sounds good to me. Now, Damian and I will obviously be offense and you be defense.” Bruce said, and your hands went to your hips.

“Why am I always defense?” you asked, and Bruce and Damian stared at each other. 

Last Year

You were placed in defense, and your team consisted of Tim and Dick. Jason, Bruce, and Damian were a team, and Damian happened to sneak past you. The sound of a twig snapping caught your attention, and you jumped into action.

Damian was standing next to your blue flag, and about to take off with it. But when his eyes met yours, he bolted, making you chase after him. You threw a few pinecones at Damian, but he dodged them all. He was quick on his feet for being so little, but you jumped, and tackled Damian to the ground.

“Come on Dami, give mom the flag!” you shouted as you tried to grab it out of his hands. Damian flailed like a fish, and shouted, “NEVER!” You started tickling him, until he dropped the flag. 

Damian laid on the ground out of breath from laughing. You stood up, picked up your flag, and picked Damian off of the ground and took him back to your bases jail. “Don’t mess with momma.” you said before leaving Damian in the "jail".

End of Flashback

“I wasn’t that bad!” you exclaimed, and Bruce smiled.

“Mom, you were throwing pinecones at me! And you tackled me to the ground!” Damian said, and you gave them both a nervous smile. “Okay, that wasn’t my best motherly moment. But in my defense, I am competitive. I can’t help it.” you say as you ruffled Damian’s hair. 

Bruce pressed a kiss to your lips. “That’s why I married you, honey. I like your competitiveness.”

“Okay, guys, we need to get going. Alfred just blew the whistle.” Damian took off running, leaving you and Bruce behind. 

MEANWHILE....

“Jason, that’s cheating!” Tim exclaimed as Jason placed the flag on the ground behind a big rock. “It’s not cheating.” Jason said, as he turned to look at Tim.

“Alfred said, the flag must be eye level. So, having it lying on the ground is cheating.” Tim explained and Jason rolled his eyes.

“Tim, look down.” Jason said, and Tim looked down. “Can you see the flag?”

Tim nodded, and Jason clapped his hand to Tim’s back. “Okay then. It’s eye level.” Dick looked between Jason and the flag and smiled. “He’s got a point.”

Jason stood up on the rock, “I have decided I will be the defense, while you two be the offense. Damian will always try to be the first one to get the flag, and I want to be the one to put the spawn in jail.” he said as he hopped off the rock.

The boys heard the whistle blow, “Let’s go win us a trophy, now break!” Jason yelled, and Tim and Dick took off down the field.

...

You and Bruce had waited for Damian to return, but he never did. The sound of twigs and sticks snapping caught both yours and the Batman’s attention. Bruce held a finger to his lips and crept off through the trees. You waited patiently, and Bruce came back with Tim and Dick by the collars of their shirts.

“They thought they could sneak past the bat.” Bruce said, and he led them away to the place you guys picked as jail. "You did not just say that..." Dick said as Bruce tossed them both into jail.

When he came back, he smiled, “They made the mistake of sending out two scouts. I am going to check on Damian and I will be right back.”

You checked on Tim and Dick and they were lying on the ground. “Why would you send out two of your scouts?” you questioned, and they shrugged their shoulders. “It’s the last time we let Jason call the shots.” Dick mumbled, and Tim threw a rock. 

Ruffling both of the boys’ hair, Tim spoke, “Well, at least it was dad who got to us. Mom would’ve tackled us both.”

“Or worse, she would’ve thrown pinecones at us, or landed us in the ER..” Dick shuddered, and you rolled your eyes. “Have fun in jail, boys.”

You ran back to your hiding spot. and Bruce came back with no sign of Damian. “He must be up in a tree strategizing. He’s not in jail, and he’s nowhere to be found.”

Both you and Bruce heard a sneeze, and you looked around frantically. Bruce pulled you behind a tree, and the two of you peeked out towards the left of the field. Jason, Dick, and Tim were all creeping around, and you turned to Bruce. 

“It was a trap! This was Jason’s plan all along!” you whisper shouted, “That little shit....” you whispered, and Bruce chuckled. “It’s not funny, Bruce! If we lose this--” 

 Bruce placed a hand on your shoulder, "It's just a game of Capture the Flag honey, it's not that serious-"

You looked Bruce straight in the eyes, "If we lose this, I'm divorcing you." 

Bruce sprang into action, and the two of you went after one of the boys one at a time. Jason was the hardest to catch; somehow, you were able to climb a tree, and once Jason walked underneath, you leaped down at him. 

Jason let out a scream and hit the ground, “OUCH!” Jason cradled his arm, and pain raced up through your left leg. Bringing your leg to your chest, you held onto it, and Bruce, Tim, and Dick came running.

“What happened?” Bruce asked as he raced to your side.

“Mom jumped from the tree like a blood thirsty gremlin and tackled me to the ground. I think my arm is broken...” Jason said, and Bruce looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“I think my leg is broken....” you said, and Bruce shook his head. He lifted you up off the ground, and Tim and Dick helped Jason off of the ground. “Another trip the ER. They might as well give us a room with our name on it.” Bruce mumbled.

-----

LATER THAT EVENING

Your leg had a cast, and you were on crutches. Jason had a broken arm, and you had a fractured leg. “Your competitiveness has gotten the better of you. Again.” Bruce said as he helped you into bed.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought you loved my competitiveness?” you questioned, and Bruce laughed. “I do, trust me I do. Sometimes I think you should have been a Navy Seal Operative.” 

 Alfred walked into the room and Dick trailed behind him with Damian in his arms. Damian had a red flag wrapped around his mouth, and duct tape around his wrists and ankles. 

“Oh my gosh, who did this?” you say and you motioned for Dick to place your youngest son on the bed. You tried your best to untie him. One you took the flag out of his mouth Damian coughed.

“I was outside for three hours! Where were you guys?” he asked, and you looked down at your leg. Damian stared, “Woah.  How’d that happen?” he asked, and your cheeks turned red.

Bruce sighed. “Your mom and Jason were the ones to get in a tussle this time around. But- what happened to you exactly?" Bruce asked and everyone turned their attention to youngest Wayne.

"It was Jason! I almost had their flag, and he jumped me from behind and tied me up!" then Damian started looking around the room. "Speaking of which... where is he?" Damian looked past Dick and seen Jason trying to creep out of the bedroom.

Before you and Bruce could grab Damian, he leaped off of the bed and hurled toward Jason. And a loud smack could be heard around the world and Jason's pained scream could also be heard in a thirty-mile radius.

"Don't mess with me!" Damian shouted as he bowed up at Jason. Alfred walked into the bedroom with the trophy in hand, "I assume that I get to keep this trophy?"

Bruce and you shared a glance at one another, "Because I have captured both flags." Alfred said as he smiled and waved both flags. That year, Alfred was the Wayne Summer Fun Victor.

------------------

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this x reader! This was meant to be posted in the summer, but oh well. I hope you all have a great weekend! Let me know your thoughts on this x reader in the comments!

XOXO

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— let go and i'll catch —

Warnings: angst

Summary: Jason needs to catch you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Word Count: ~600

“Get down from there!” Jason yelled, his words turning into frost. The cold seeped into his bones and settled in his spine until he shivered violently. His eyes turned upwards towards the sky, landing on your figure on the side of the building. Black smoke clouded the moon overhead. Sirens echoed against his chest and red and blue light flickered over his tall frame.

You pressed into the chipping wall a bit tighter. “And how should I do that?” You asked, shouting to be heard. Voice wavering in the air while you tried to keep steady. Your eyes darted to the smoke billowing out of the window next to you. 

Jason’s disguised voice called out to you. “Don’t move!” His attention cut to the officer approaching him, slightly hesitant of the vigilante that had a whole portion of Gotham under his pinky. 

“The fastest road this way is closed,” the officer informed him in a hushed tone as if you would overhear them. “Still under construction from the ruckus last week.” The Joker had planted multiple bombs filled with laughing gas in the sewers. He had blasted the roads from the inside, creating huge potholes in them. 

Jason tried not to panic. “How long out?” He tried to keep his voice even, trying to maintain a professional tone and mask his growing fear. When he had gotten the call of a fire in your complex, he had all but had an anxiety attack. He had quickly taken care of the goons he had been fighting on the other side of the city, called Oracle and told her that he would be there.

He was supposed to be the one protecting you.

“Ten minutes, Red Hood,” the officer replied quickly. “There’s too much traffic on that route with the closing.” He hooked his thumbs on his belt and tilted his head back to look at you, still perched on your half destroyed fire escape. 

The officer squinted at the smoke. “I’d say she’ll have to jump soon,” he said, eyes turning back to Jason to see him standing still. With his back straight and fists clenched, the officer knew it was his time to leave him alone. 

Jason looked at you. He took quick notes of the little space you had, the way your back pressed into the wall, the way the smoke started growing with each passing second. He counted the floors upwards, calculating as his eyes landed on you. Five floors. You were five floors up where the fire escape was broken off. He could climb the bottom two untouched floors.

His eyes darted to you when you screamed. 

You had fallen, holding onto the broken pieces of the railing. You cried out in agony when your hands slipped against the roughened metal. His heart ached. A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead and he ran forward, climbing the fire escape. Officers shouted at him for breaking protocol, but he didn’t care. All he saw was the blood on your hands and the way your face was contorted in fear and pain. 

He stood directly under you, two stories down from you. 

“Let go! Let go!” He yelled, fear now lacing his every word. He couldn’t care less about what the officers had to say about the rules being broken or the uncharacteristic fear that was in his voice. 

“What—”

“I’ll catch you. Let go and I’ll catch you!” His heart was beating faster with the wind blowing the smoke in your direction now. “Let go!”

You let go.

[fic-over-cannon]

Part 8: The New Normal

part 7 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x fem!reader

summary: both you and jason struggle with defining your new normal in the wake of your changed friendship

tags: angst, mentions of offscreen violence

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.2k

a/n: with this chapter we officially cross 20k words (whoops). i dropped quite a few hints about future developments in this chapter, i wonder if you'll find them all.

Jason’s never felt so bitter about successfully achieving something. The taste of it curdles in his mouth, sour and heavy. He’d known that amputating his heart would hurt but this? This was worse. It was bloodless and toothless and the worst thing he’s ever done to himself. To you. You’re friends now. Friends! No lasting repercussions to having what he wanted. Shockingly, no lasting repercussions for fucking up his secret identity either. He’s gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? 

He’d known, in that half-abstract kind of way that Talia had taught him, that if he had been earnest enough and insistent enough on the idea of friendship he’d be able to end the conversation there. No questions about why he had kissed you a second time. No scathing comments about how desperate he had been to know what you tasted like. He wouldn’t have to explain himself, or all of his messy inconvenient feelings, to you. Friends. Easy as that. 

Or at least that’s what he tells himself, walking in to face you. He’d know your footsteps anywhere and the just sound of them sets his senses on edge. All of his focus narrows down to you, hyperawareness kicking in. Jason doesn’t take any notes in class, can barely hear the sound of the professor speaking over you fidgeting next to him. To think his biggest worry a few months back had been if he would pass his courses. He can’t shake this fog, but he’s terrified of letting on just how gone he already is. Leaves a respectful three inches of space between the two of you through lunch that he obsessively maintains through Will telling some story about actually getting hit by a car over the weekend that Jason could care less about. He doesn’t breathe fully until the two of you are walking out of your last joined class of the day, cold air burning with every breath. He can do this.

“Can I– may I walk you home?” he asks uncertainly.

“Oh so you finally ask permission, huh?” you tease, and it’s the first thing he’s heard properly all day. Maybe it comes out sharper edged than he’s used to you directing at him, but it’s so close to resembling the easy camaraderie of the early days that he will take it.

“I was actually listening to your lecture on privacy,” Jason somehow finds the strength to sass back. 

“You can take the bus with me and walk me to my building door but that’s it. I already talked to the super about changing the door code.” Jason knows. He watched the super change it yesterday. 

“Just to the building. Scouts honour,” he says, drawing an x over his heart. 

When it comes to normal, Jason Todd sucks at pretending to be it. Or maybe you’ve just learned to read him too well. A space – not just literal but physical – exists between you now. He doesn’t sit right anymore, shoulders tensing up when you sit down next to him an only relaxing when you make no move to lean into him. He walks a full foot away now, no more arms accidentally brushing. He still keeps you fed – let it never be said that a friend of Jason’s goes hungry – but your fingers never brush as he hands containers over. Messages dwindle, text threads drying up. You can bear all of that, you can. It’s almost like the distant but friendly relationship you have with Will or half of your fellow interns. No, it’s the part where almost a week later, Jason still won’t look you in the eye. 

It would be so easy to dismiss everything else as growing pains, the both of you testing and reassessing where the new lines have been drawn. This isn’t that. Jason has drawn a line and it’s one that feels like a cut every time you brush up against it. These days there’s a tension in your jaw that you didn’t carry  before. Magically it appears whenever Jason chooses a particularly interesting patch of paint on the wall behind you to stare at instead of meeting your gaze. You think you hide the way your hands clench in your lap pretty well. You laugh and joke, exclaiming over Lina’s one liners, asking Rei about his next swim meet, and gasping in all the right places over Will’s sprained wrist. Keeping up the appearance of normalcy is tiring in a way that it hadn’t been before.  So your smiles are a little more forced than they were before, so what? The two of you are still friends and no one else is any wiser. 

There’s a Rogue attack, close enough to campus that it goes into lock down for the first time this semester. One second you’re following Jason’s broad back cutting a swathe through the frightened crowd of students to the muster location and then suddenly he’s gone. It doesn’t matter how quickly you crank your head to the side, he’s just vanished. Again. You spend the whole two hours huddled up in the auditorium glued to your phone as you watch the Red Hood fight Black Mask over a shitty news helicopter live stream. You’ve lived in Gotham your whole life, have practically become numb to the sirens and the drills for the worst that the city has to offer, but not today. Today your heart is in your mouth as you watch Jason take a blow to the head and go reeling across your phone screen. Breathing shakily, you realize that if he were to die – now – you’d never get to tell him just how fully he’s made a home for himself in your life, in your chest.

Obligingly, Jason doesn’t die today. Instead he pops up in the auditorium just as the all clear to evacuate has been sounded, ruefully explaining the mark on his cheek to your friends as the result of a panicking freshman’s fist. He’s a good liar you notice, through the hazy adrenaline rush of he’s alive, he’s alive pounding through your skull. 

Later that night lying in bed, you stretch your hand up, observing the way the light from passing cars cuts across your palm. You should probably do something about the shutters that don’t close right onto the fire escape but there’s always a thousand other things clamouring for attention. Besides, on nights like this when your thoughts turn in on themselves and sleep is a distant memory, the glow of the world outside provides a kind of comfort to you. No matter how bad things seem, life rumbles ever onwards. So what if every time you struggle with the keys to the front door it’s because you get lost in the memory of the one bright moment when it seemed like you could finally keep Jason? He’s not here now. The sheets have been washed – twice – but sometimes in that hazy place between sleeping and waking you swear you can still smell him. You think about the last time Jason had smiled at you, real and true and so sweetly uncomplicated. Your hand balls up into a fist and you cradle it to your chest. Maybe you suck at pretending everything is normal too.  

You must, because two weeks later, Danika corners you at one of your Wednesday study sessions. The student union is busy, tables full of students finally starting to realize exams are fast approaching with all the unwavering care of a freight train. 

“Hey can I talk to you for a sec?” she asks, just as you’re getting up.

“D’you mind if we talk and walk? I’m dying for caffeine and my stamp card says the next cup is free at The Grind,” you reply distractedly, digging your wallet out of your bag. 

“Oh you know I’m always down for a little snack,” she says, but there’s a note to her intonation that you can’t parse. 

The line for the coffee shop is long, but moving fast. You don’t notice anything off until you look up from struggling to extricate your membership card from your wallet, soft card stock folding under you nails. Danika is tugging at her hair as she stands next to you, twirling the strands tight around her finger until the circulation cuts off, the way she only does when she’s nervous and building up to something. 

She takes a deep breath and asks, “Are you and Jason, like, okay?” ripping the bandaid off.  

“I– why would you ask me that?” you deflect, scrambling to figure out where, exactly, your performance had faltered. The line surges forward, carrying the two of you along with it.

“Just, the last week or so something’s been off between you two. You know how you’re so obviously his favourite and he forgets the meaning of ‘personal space’ but only around you and he’s always–”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you struggle to cut her off. “It can’t be that bad, he’s good friends with all of us.”

“I’m pretty sure that whenever you start speaking the rest of us turn invisible or something,” Danika says wryly. “But the last week or so the vibes have just been off. He’s even less talkative than usual and I have been this–” she pinches her fingers together, pink nails catching the light “–close to recommending you a better concealer. So did you guys fight or something? Because you can tell me, you know.” She looks at you with wide, earnest eyes. “Because it doesn’t matter what it’s about, I’m on your side. If you wanna drop him as a friend, we’ll all do it no questions asked.”

“No, we uh, we didn’t fight but hold that thought okay?” you reassure her, before hurrying through your order as quickly as you can. Danika’s already standing by the pickup counter, finger still twisting in her hair.

“Or like, if you need a body buried the two of us could definitely take him,” she offers.

“We didn’t fight, okay? I’m serious. And while I’m happy that you’d hide a body for me, it’s really, honestly, not necessary. Me and Jason are fine,” you reassure her. The high neck of your sweater feels too tight.

“Alright so we don’t go all Gone Girl on him but whatever happened hurt you and I don’t like it when my best friend is hurting. Whatever it is I’m not gonna tell anyone, not if you don’t want me to,” she says, suddenly turning earnest again. 

“Jesus, it was nothing okay? It’s just, do you remember that night we all went out after Thanksgiving?” you offer up.

“The night where we were all taking bets on if Jason would make a move before or after the club?” she chimes in. 

“You were what?!” you hiss, heart stuttering and palms suddenly damp. 

“I’m kidding! Kidding!” she says with a laugh. “Sorry, you were just getting so wound up, I wanted to bring the mood up a bit. We didn’t actually bet on it. We did talk about though, before you both got there.”

You bite your lips, weigh up how much truth you want to tell. The barista calls out your order and you’re thankful for the extra moment to gather yourself.

“I was drunk and I tried to kiss him, okay?” She gasps. “And then he shut that shit down. He made it really, really clear that we were only ever gonna be friends,” you finish, gulping down your tea to cover for your embarrassment and immediately burning your tongue. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s close enough without having to debride the festering wound you still haven’t made peace with. 

“Wait you’re sure that’s what he said? Absolutely no chance of anything?” Danika seems stunned. “I could swear there’s no way whatever you two have going on is platonic.” 

“Kinda hard to misinterpret the whole ‘that was a bad idea let’s just stay friends speech’. I wasn’t drunk enough to forget that.” You study your drink with false interest. 

“Oh. Oh I’m sorry,” she says, the kind of soft that she almost never is. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t realising exactly what he’s missing out on.” Danika reaches out and rubs your shoulder. “We’ll find you someone else that’s way, way hotter and makes better life choices. Until then, he’s on thin fucking ice.”

“This is all my shit, yeah? Leave him be, we’ll figure it out and this’ll all blow over,” you warn her. There’s a certainty to your words that you definitely don’t feel. But Jason shouldn’t be punished for the crime of not returning your affection and so you’ll just have to learn how to fake normalcy better. “Plenty of more fish in the sea or whatever. I’ll get over him.”

“Fine, but I’m gonna trust you to tell me if you don’t,” she says, linking your arm through hers. The two of you head back to the group, weaving your way through outstretched legs and scattered bags littering the space between tables. There’s a kind of comfort in having your charade seen through by someone that cares enough to ask. It won’t do in the long run, but this stutter step with Jason won’t last forever. 

“Hey you’re still living in the Alley right?” Danika asks offhandedly, sliding back into the booth.

“Haven’t moved since first year, Dani.”

“Just be careful, then, okay? I saw on the news that there’s been more muggings in that area.” 

You almost choke on your tea. “Yeah okay, I’ll avoid any muggers,” you croak. Jason’s eyes burn a hole into the side of your head.

[redbird-tf]

Never leaving

Jason todd x (platonic) reader

Summary: Jason finds out you've gone missing following the escape of Joker. He won't allow the Joker to inflict on you what he suffered. Jason won't stop at anything to bring you home.

Word count: 950

Warning: angst

Jason was furious. he had just found out the Joker escaped Arkham again, but surprisingly that wasn't the main reason for his rage. You had gone missing three days ago. the whole bat family had been looking for you but not a single one had bothered to bring it up to Jason, typical. He had quite the altercation with Batman due to the fact.

“Why didn't you tell me!” He yelled throwing his fist in the bat’s direction. “It’s not like youre around much Jason” Bruce stated grabbing his wrist, Jason pulled back “This is different. You know me and y/n are closer,” he said through gritted teeth. “And jokers back, with her missing, and it's been a week. A goddamn week!” Jason screamed “We are doing our best Jason, i know what you-“Bruce was cut off “And you know if anyone can find him, it's me!” He pounded on his chest “And you'd be out of control!” Bruce shouted “And the last time you decided to do things your way with the Joker, i died. I won't let you do that to y/n. She doesn't deserve that”Jason put on his helmet and sped out of the batcave on his motorcycle

Jason wasn't very close with any of the bat's adopted family but you were different. You met Jason on a mission months after being taken in by Bruce. After that day you asked who he was and his story, and instead of being disappointed you understood. Apart of you agreed with the way he did things but the other half didn't want to disappoint Batman, he understood. You started spending your patrol nights with him and despite his hard-ass personality, you grew closer. You were the only one who treated him like true family. You were his little sister and he'd die all over again for you.

He didn't know what scared him more, you being dead or being alive with the Joker. Jason searched endlessly and picked up a pattern the Joker had left behind. He was holding you at a warehouse, originally clearly. Jason pinned the location and drove as fast as he could. When he arrived he kicked down the door storming into the dark room “You're going to ruin all the fun!” That to happy voice called. “Step out joker!” He yelled pulling out his gun. “Boo hoo, I've nearly gotten to teach her any manners” The joker stepped in front of Jason. Jason wasted no time knocking him on his ass. “Where is she?!” Jason demanded. “Now why would i tell you that? Don't worry I'll return her like new… like you” The Joker started to laugh. A loud bang was heard with silence following. Jason had killed the bastard with no regret.

Jason searched the warehouse calling your name, worry grew with every passing second until he reached the back where he found a locket door. He docked the door off its hinges and entered the room. “Y/n!” He screamed seeing your body weakly curled in the corner covered in blue and red. “Jason..” your voice rasp “Don't speak,” he said placing his jacket over your body as most of your suit had been ripped off. “It's my fault, i went after him alone” you began to cry “None of this is your fault! Now please be quiet and let me help you,” he said grabbing your shoulders. He bandaged what he could and hoisted you on his back, piggyback as he began to walk out.

“Shit” he mumbled seeing the batmobile in the distance. It stopped in front of him and Batman wasted no time making his way in front of Jason “You're late” Jason stated in a monotone voice. “What happened?” Batman asked “Same thing that happened last time, but i stopped it” Jason replied. “You killed him?” He asked “Don't worry, killing him the last 2 times didn't last long” Jason said with annoyance. “Y/ns coming home with me,” Bruce said holding out his arms. “I don't think so,” Jason said making his way to his bike “She needs medical Jason!” Batman yelled “I've learned,” Jason said throwing a mean glare. Jason sat the both of you on his bike wrapping your arms around his waist. “Y/n?” Batman questioned in a stern tone. “Jason..” you said weakly turning away from Bruce. Jason saw the hurt on his face “Call if you need anything” he said to Jason before turning back “Sure”

You groaned regaining consciousness, when you tried sitting up two hands softly pushed you back down onto the pillow “Stay down” a voice called. You slowly open your eyes seeing Jason stitch up your leg. He finished and softly placed down your leg “you might feel a little groggy from the anesthesia” he explained “Where are we?” You asked “My safe house, your safe here.” He said pulling the blanket over you. “Jason, he told me what he did to you…” Jason sighed tucking in the covers “Don't worry about me” he replied standing up. “I'll leave you to get some rest” he turned around but was quickly stopped by your hand wrapping around his wrist.

“I don’t wanna be alone” you whined “I'll just be across the hall” he explained removing your hand “Please Jason, don't leave me now” Your voice cracked and your eyes displayed a fear he knew all too well. He sat at the side of the bed. “I'll be here when you wake up,” he said whipping away your tears, you gave a weak smile before allowing yourself to drift to sleep. Jason gently took your hand into his, caressing his thumb over your knuckles, “i won't ever leave you”

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 3

The second of the posts compiling all my snippets from the ask game. I'll try and get another out later today, but it might be tomorrow for the rest.

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3, Tumblr

Chapter 2: First, Previous

Word Count: 1.3k

-----

“Five months ago, he disappeared. I’d already started college, so I wasn’t home. But Sam and Tucker reached out and the three of us began searching. It… It took three weeks to find him. And another week to get him out. In that time… What we found… It wasn’t pretty. The guys in white—” Jazz cut herself off. That day would forever be branded into her memory and featured in far too many nightmares.

Todd made an encouraging noise, but didn’t interrupt.

Jazz took a steadying breath and forced herself to continue. “It wasn’t easy breaking in. And even harder breaking out. Danny was hurt and the agents were chasing us. We had on masks, but they knew who we were. We managed to cause some chaos, though. Released all the ghosts they had prisoner to mess up their scanners. Send them running in every direction.

“It was almost enough. We all got out of the building. But they’d figured out our path and were waiting for us. Sam, Tucker, and I managed to hold them back. Sending Danny ahead alone with the go bag we’d prepared him. He was supposed to either get back to Amity and cross the portal into the Infinite Realms or run north to meet up with the other Dani.”

“But he didn’t make it,” said Todd. A statement rather than a question.

“We don’t know. He never made it to Dani. And due to the breakout, the guys in white placed the town on high alert. There’s checks for everyone entering or leaving the town. If you’re suspected of pro-ghost sentiment, you’ll be brought in for questioning. Ghost shields are everywhere. Sam’s parents withdrew her from school because they didn’t trust her to follow the new rules.” She gave a watery laugh. “They were probably right. Then Tucker was offered a scholarship for a tech school in California. I was escorted back to Boston. Only time I went back was for his funeral.”

Todd nodded. “And they’re in your phones and computers so you can’t talk to each other.”

Jazz smiled wryly. “Yep. Tucker could’ve, probably has, developed something. A messaging program or whatever. But without being able to meet up with us to download it to our devices—” she shrugged “—we’ve no way to get it.”

“Okay, so we’ll start there. Restoring contact should be fairly easy if you all want it—”

“We do!”

“But I’m also worried about your safety. What will happen to you after you ditched your guard today?”

Jazz shrugged. “They’ll bring me in for questioning. Probably make me miss a quiz or something important for school to make it extra inconvenient.”

“What will the questioning entail?”

Jazz bit her lip and shrugged. “Before? Sitting me in an uncomfortable metal chair in an interrogation room like you might see on TV and keeping me there for… oh, up to twenty-four hours? Whenever my parents would find out and barge in yelling at them about how ‘No Fenton would support a ghost!’ or whatever. Now? I don’t know.”

“Do you think they’ll hurt you?” asked Todd. He was frowning. “After your brother, it sounds like they are capable of it.”

Jazz held out her hands. “Depends on if they know I’m liminal or not. I’m not as bad as you are. And especially no where near Danny’s level. I don’t think they’ve been able to detect it yet. But if they have their instruments that close and me captive for that long? I… I don’t know.”

Todd nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of. Look, they don’t know where we are right now and don’t have the means to find us at the moment. I can get you out of here. To a safe house in Gotham or Metropolis or, hell, anywhere you want. And we can reach out to Red Robin, see how things are going with your friend Tucker. Maybe extract him as well.”

Jazz’s mouth fell open. They could… get away? For good? To a Justice League level safe house? She burst into tears.

She might be able to see her friends again soon.

Todd moved so he was sitting next to her. Hesitantly, he put a hand on her shoulder. “So I take it you want to do that?”

Jazz nodded, then shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

Jazz sniffed. “I just—It’ll make it easier to find Danny. If we’re together. If we have to go somewhere.” She shook her head. “God, I’m going to sound like such a bitch. I love Danny. If it’s what we have to do to get him back, yes. Absolutely. But… It’s just… My degree. If I disappear halfway through the year for who-knows-how-long? I’ve been working to get into Harvard since I was ten years old. Since long before Danny had his accident.” She scrubbed at her eyes. “God, I’m such a bitch. My brother needs me. And if I go back, I’ll probably be detained long enough it’ll impact my grades anyway. And that’s if the Guys in White don’t just lock me up indefinitely.”

“You’re not a bitch,” said Todd, voice filled with some emotion she couldn’t put a name to. “Like you said, this has been your dream for practically half your life. But I think we can help you with that.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “How?”

Todd grinned. “I doubt your school would be able to complain or hold it against you if I had Kori—Starfire—tell them that you were needed for an urgent Titans mission. That you helped save the lives of countless people. Way I see it, they’d have to forgive your abandoned classes and allow you to retake them.” He hummed and looked up. “In fact, I’m pretty sure we could find a Justice League fund to pay for at least one semester of classes for you. Probably more. To make up for the money lost on this one.”

Jazz’s mouth fell open. “You’d do that? For me?”

“And your brother and sister and friends. It’s kinda what we do.”

Jazz nodded. “Yes, please. If you can do that, I’ll go with zero hesitation. I’d have given it all up for Danny, of course. But we’d both… not regret it. But he’d feel guilty he forced me to give up my degree and I’d always be a little resentful I had to. Not towards him, never towards him, but the Guys in White and Vlad and my parents.”

“Great. I’m going to call Arsenal and Starfire. I need one of them to get my car anyway. Left it parked back near our meeting place and I don’t think we should be going back anywhere near there if we can avoid it.”

“Then what?”

“Then I’ll reach out to Red Robin, see what happened when he went to meet up with your friend Tucker out in San Francisco. See if they’re up for an extraction as well. If I gave you a phone, would you be able to reach out to Dani-with-an-I?” He grimaced. “Do you have any other way to differentiate them?”

Jazz chuckled wetly. “Nope. Dani-with-an-I refuses to change her name. Says it’s her name and she’s not going to change it just because someone else had it first. And Danny-with-a-y hates going by Daniel or Dan. When they’re together, they drive us crazy with it.”

Todd grumbled something under his breath. “Fine, whatever. Just, do you have a way to contact her?”

Jazz nodded. “We’ve been too scared to, but if you can get me something with an internet connection, I can contact her and have her meet us somewhere.”

“Easy. I’ll have Arsenal bring us something that you can have to yourself rather than relying on borrowing our phones or computers.”

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, but thanks.”

Todd shrugged and stood. “I wasn’t going to just ignore you after seeing those messages. Now, try and get some sleep. It’ll be a few hours before my friends can get here.”

-----

And that brings us to the end of Chapter 2!

Hope you enjoy. We've got the beginnings of a plan set up.

Check out the subscription post if you want notifications when I update!

[wolfsrainrules]

Stares off into the distance:

So.

Apparently my brain is just going to run along with various crossovers. Today, I bring you the thought of a John Wick fusion au (actually five differnet ones) with Batman/DC. (Again: a reminder that all my DC/Batman knowledge is fandom based)

@north-peach hellllppppp

Couple of thoughts for this.

The First: Janet Drake is one of the underworld's best. She's fantastic at manipulation and killing. She could walk herself out of a situation covered in blood, and convince people who saw it all happen that she never touched the body.

Tim grows up at her knee. He learns for the very best. And Janet teaches him everything she can- because despite the job and the crazy hours, and the travel, she loves her son. She wants to give him every opportunity to make it out alive from anything. Unharmed and not in trouble if possible, but alive most of all.

John Wick is a ghost story to the underworld. Tim has always been curious about people who could cause such a stir as his mother or John Wick might. When he meets him, he decides that man is Friend Shaped despite every sign saying Do Not. Despite every horror story saying it's a bad plan. (Much as he will later look at a story in a city of a cryptid said to be a manifestation of a city, a demon, a physical representation of all those who have died unavenged and decide the same)

More than that- John has ZERO idea how to handle Tim. He's a k i d. John's not gonna kill him for just...showing up all the time. It's not like he interferes or causes problems. In fact, he helps sometimes. Provides info, or a direction, a place to crash-

Tim confuses John.

Tim is also the very first to congratulate him, when he manages to get out of the underworld for Helen and mean it. To not even question the 'impossibility' of the Baba Yaga deciding he was done. John didn't bother to ask how Tim knew he'd left and why before the news actually broke out.

Tim watching John get out, go for it and SUCCEED is what gives him the courage to confess to his mother that he wanted to spend some time outside of the underworld, watching the curious case of Batman and Gotham. And Janet loves her son. So she arranges for it to be so.

They both know who Bruce Wayne is. Janet had figured it out before even Tim. She makes him promise that, if he needs her, he will call her, and lets him hunker in Gotham while he does what he wishes. She makes some trips back to Gotham, of course, but not so many that enemies can figure out there's someone important to her there. Janet is THE Femme Fatale. She has plenty of people who would go after her boy. And she's not having that.

Tim doesn't actually PLAN to get involved in vigilante life. At all. He's underworld born and bred. He's a survivor, manipulative, and can be a level of cunning and cold and ambitious that always makes his mother so so proud. He's not a do-right kind of person. He's not someone who does things for people outside of "me and mine" without a reason. Or if it goes against his moral code.

Except Jason Todd becomes one of "Me and Mine". He's a friend. A nosy vigilante who sees that his friend is alone and sets off his instincts as dangerous yes, but also as 'not a civilian' in a conventional sense. He's not a street rat, but he's not...normal either. And Tim? Tim, once he decides this Robin is his Robin, well he can't very well leave him undefended doing this ALONE can he? Though he understands by working with Robin, he cant use the tried and true methods of murder, as it could get pinned to Robin or Batman and he can't have that. If he wants to fly with Jason, he needs to fly by his rules. So a new vigilante is born that runs the streets with Robin. A little more vicious but in a cold and precise manner. Exacting. He doesn't let Jason go after his mother without doing the information gathering, and stops his death by Joker.

For a time, Tim finds himself pulled into the Wayne family, and he...thrives with them. He's happy. He learns under them. Expands his skillset, and still sent out to learn from people around the world. He is NOT fool enough to turn that away- his mother would somehow KNOW wherever she was if he turned down that kind of opportunity and he did not want to imagine the disappointment and response. NO THANK YOU.

When the underworld is kicked like a hornets' nest by John Wick coming back into the fold, Tim is...curious. He's kept an eye on John and Helen, if not stayed in direct and constant contact with them. He hadn't expected John to step foot back into the underworld.

And then his mother sends word to him, calls him back to the Continental, warns that the underworld is getting REALLY kicked up as a result. Tim...needs to go. He cannot imagine NOT answering his mother.

He arranges things on the Gotham end. Says temporary goodbyes and gets to the NY branch asap. Beats his mother there.

Makes it just in time to see John Wick pull a gun on Continental Grounds and shoot a newly crowned seat at the Table and is caught up in the chaos.

His family are going to end UP in the chaos themselves, because they will not cannot leave Tim in it alone. The connections Tim has are MUCH a surprise, he's done very well in hiding exactly what he used to do, and WHY he has a contact and hand in everything, and can ALWAYS get his family what they need. The Second: Tim Drake still grows up at Janet's knee. He learns it all. Thrives in it all. He ends up NOT going down the road of hitman or assassin or any number of things he could have done. Instead Tim Drake chooses to be a Information Broker that claims Gotham eventually, and by means of getting taken in by Bruce, the Wayne Manor and grounds around it become neutral grounds much like the Continental, if you want Tim's services to remain open to you. If you pull the underworld onto the ground...well. Just because Tim goes by Bruce's rules, and just because he PREFERS the route of nonviolence does not in any way mean he would not kill to protect it. To prove a point. To make a statement. To allow one to get away with it is to allow danger to his family and he WILL NOT, no matter that they all are perfectly capable of defending themselves. The Underworld is entirely different than their villains. To not kill the offender is to open themselves to weakness and targets. So Tim WILL.

Gotham is not Wayne Manor. The City is fair game to the underworld. Wayne Manor is NOT.

The Third:

Janet raises her boy at her knee still. Tim chooses the route of Doctor instead. He sets up in Gotham, and decides he likes the foolish vigilantes enough to step in when it's needed and save their lives. He becomes known to the Batfam as a Doc that will not ask questions, but is absolutely one of the most capable people they've seen. If Leslie isn't available, or not close enough, they go to Tim, if Tim doesn't find them, because he certainly seems to know when they need it.

The Batfam does sometimes find him having dealt with Some Things underworld involved so they are WORRIED about their idiot, despite the fact that Tim can and will Wreck everyone that causes problems in his area. He has also shown up stripping off blood covered scrub tops or whatever cause hes coming in hot from another healing thing, and they all wonder and worry and just- it's fine. Everything is fine.

They worry anyway.

Despite the fact that Tim has friends seemingly everywhere, from all walks of life, favors all over, and connections to seemingly everything as a result of his work. (He has absolutely been offered favors as payment, hits, assassinations and all sorts of things. He never turns them away. Janet taught him better. Instead he has markers and logs, books and written promises all stacked away. He remembers them all of course, but better to have written proof somewhere, something official. The Continental holds it for him.

The Fourth:

Gotham HAS a Continental Hotel due to all of its.....everything. Janet Drake runs it. Tim knows EVERYONE and everything, and has absolutely run the counter often. Bruce doesn't know what it is. Ra's absolutely does. Tim is the next to take over the branch and EVERYONE knows it.

He ends up occasionally, when people step on his morals, providing information to the Bat.

Jason managed to find his way inside by accident, and may or may not get himself heavily involved in the underworld even BEFORE the Red Hood thing.

The Fifth:

Same concept as 4 except BRUCE WAYNE runs the Continental and the ripples of everything therein.

[lightwing-s]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐓 𝐈𝐈

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: they should hate each other, but from how long they each stay on the other's mind, they clearly were not paying attention to that. they took I'll fuck you in the complete opposite direction.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: oh god 6,8k warnings: smut, unprotected sex, chocking, dirty talk, oral sex, foreplay, language

a/n: so yeah, here's finally to part 2! thank you to every single message i got about pt 1, i was so overwhelmed by the response to it that i had to make some time to wrap up the story. also, special thanks to @igotanidea for being the most supportive person I've ever met online and for handling me breaking down over this week while trying to finish this post. to you i owe so much ♡ a/n 2: guys, pls, go easy on me as this was my first attempt at writing smut. so so sorry if this ends up looking ridiculous lol

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt i

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

For the past 48 hours, Jason had been absentmindedly searching for Y/n. Searching for signs that everything that happened two nights ago was real, and not just a product of his imagination.

Two mornings ago, he woke up confused, not knowing exactly where he was or how he had gotten there in the first place. He woke up in his brother's living room, laying in his brown leather sofa, shirt missing and head banging from pain, with the extra addition of the sun beaming its morning rays straight into his eyes. 

Handing him a cup of warm milk, Dick filled in on how he found him passed out on top of an abandoned building, just as the sun was coming up in the horizon and he was ready to drop his vigilante outfit for the night. According to him, he was already missing his shirt then, his broken helmet was beside his body, and he was the only thing in the otherwise completely empty building, not even his motorcycle in his line of sight. He couldn’t figure out what had happened to Jason earlier, and he only wondered just how the hell did he get there?

Jason couldn’t offer him an explanation, though. 

He had a hunch of just who had put him there. But he wasn’t sure. Everything that happened that night, the kisses, the touches, they couldn’t just not be real. They had to have happened, the memories were too clear in his mind for it to be just a dream. It felt too real to be just a hallucination.

It had to be real, or someone had been playing with his mind way too well. The Mad Hatter is known for his devices, Ivy had been on the loose for a while. Or his mind had simply just acquired the skills to produce extremely realistic scenarios in his head, better than any porn he had watched recently.

That or he was just too addicted to Y/n.

It felt massively wrong. Like he was committing the worst of sins, or something like that, he wasn’t really religious to understand. She was a thief, a villain, someone he was supposed to hate and fight against, throw her in jail and never think of her again until she eventually fled Blackgate just like every other criminal in this god damned city. 

But here he was. Standing atop some old factory in Gotham, heavy traffic not flowing just below him, while he looked for any clues or indications she was still around. 

Someone just radioed GCPD that there’s a drug trade going on in Tricorner Island, he heard through the coms.

I overheard two guys talking about it. Oracle, send me the location, I’m on my way.

Just did it, Robin. Nightwing, how’s north Gotham doing?

Er… Going, his brother answered through the sounds of grunts and punches.

Where’s  Jason? Haven’t heard of him all night and…

Before Barbara could say anything else, Jason turned off the coms, not wanting anything else adding up to his bad temper. He didn’t even know why he had come to patrol tonight, as fighting crime was the last thing he had on his mind. Returning his gaze to the traffic below, he let his thoughts wander elsewhere.

The loud sounds of honks and engines reverberated in the air, with the screams of angry drivers rushing their ways home to rest for the night playing along. The muffled sound of an ambulance siren got lost in the distance, hopefully driving someone with a chance of survival to Gotham General Hospital. All of those noises entered Jason’s ear on one side and left on the other, seemingly going unnoticed by the tall man. It was like he wasn’t there. Physically he was standing on top  of that building, mentally he was somewhere else. Where, he didn’t know. With whom, though, he had a clear answer. 

She had been missing from the streets for a while, but very much present in his mind. Cupid, Y/n, or whatever she went by, lived in his thoughts. The whole entire day, every second he wasn’t busy with something, he was thinking of her. And for that he was a goddamned loser.

Fortunately, or not, he was constantly thinking of something else he was missing too. His precious motorcycle had been MIA since the incident, and was, for some reason, untraceable by the Cave’s systems. Not riding it for two full days was getting to his nerves, and added to the agonizing feeling he had been under lately. 

Riding was his therapy, the cure for every troubled time he went through. There was no anxiety attack, no emotional turmoil, no stupid  fight with Bruce that couldn’t be erased by a 100 mph drive along Gotham’s damp streets. Not doing so made him feel like at any moment, anything, even the smallest of words, could make him explode.

Alone, he sometimes could hear the roaring of the V4 engine coming from nowhere. He’d look left and right, searching for it, but finding nothing. Loud, explosive, distinguishable. A hallucination, a very realistic hallucination. Very real. Very… Real?

Speeding up the road, he saw it. Cutting through the traffic, dodging cars and other vehicles, he recognized his motorcycle making its way in his direction. It was it, he was sure. There was no universe where he couldn't identify his favorite thing in the world, even from  afar. Moving closer to the parapet, almost flying over it, he tried to get a glimpse of who was riding it, but if anyone asked he’d have a guess.

Her. It had to be.

Whoever was on it was dressed all in black, and as it got closer he saw the same jacket he had seen two nights before. Hooded just like his. And, as the vehicle drove past him, the dark helmet turned, looking directly at him. As if she knew he was there. As if she knew he was waiting.

She definitely knew. She knew pretty well all his movements at this point, understood him well enough. How she learned all that, how to manipulate him like this, he didn’t know, but he knew her intentions. As much as she knew him, he got to know about her. She knew he’d recognize his motorcycle  anywhere, and she knew he’d want it back. 

So, somehow, he followed her.

The neighborhood he found himself in was dark, the streets were wet and the air was humid. Light rain had just started pouring down on him, as he followed the trails left by the mucky tires of his bike, leading him further down the road. He should’ve been more careful, hiding in the corners and studying the place before making his way in. But tonight he simply couldn’t, all sense of carefulness completely gone, being replaced by hot tempered decision making. 

Jason arrived at an old abandoned parking garage. The first two floors were empty, dark and smelled of mold and trash. Climbing the ramps to the last floor, though, he spotted the red motorcycle right in the middle of the lot, parked and with its light still on, blinding anyone who’d go in its direction. They stopped him from seeing much else in the area, but considering that the only sound he could hear was from his own boots hitting the concrete floor, he quickly understood he was also alone.

His footsteps echoed through the walls, the muddy lines left by the tires beside him. As he reached the vehicle, for the first time in days, he felt a portion of tension that he was holding onto for a long time, leaving his body. With a heavy sigh in relief, he turned off the lights before quietly caressing the scarlet tank, the leather seat,  admiring his most faithful partner in its long awaited return.

“I took good care of her, don’t worry” he heard someone say. Startled, he lifted his head from where it was looking down, and instantly recognizing the voice, he searched for the source of the heavenly sound.

Then, he found her.

Resting against a concrete column at a far end, Y/n watched the outside, the falling rain and the night sky. Where she stood, the moonlight hit her precisely, like a spotlight in a play, like the moon knew no one else but her. Like she was a favorite. The light made her skin glow, her eyes sparkle. It made her look like a goddess.

He didn’t remember her ever looking this good. Maybe he was too blind by anger he didn’t notice, or there was something different tonight. He knew she was pretty, really pretty for that matter. But he was still so intoxicated from last time, so captivated, bewitched. Looking at her now, he knew getting rid of her thoughts would only get harder. Damn it!

Wearing a similar outfit to the one she wore on the underground, he noticed her jacket was open, and a silver necklace decorated her collarbone. The wind blew at her hair,  exposing her chest, her neck, her jaw, her lips. Speechless, Jason stood there, admiring her, for way longer his conscious self would be proud of. 

Following his silence, he heard her chuckle, bringing him back from his land of dirty dreams.

“You took my bike” he simply stated, mentally slapping himself for not being able to form a coherent sentence.

“A bit obvious, isn’t it?” she replied, finally looking in his direction, smirk glued on her glossy lips. Licking his own, he didn’t know how to reply, preferring to thank her for delivering back his vehicle  scratch free. “It wasn’t difficult. I took care of you, didn’t I?”

So it was real, he thought. He wasn’t going crazy. Or was he? One could argue that. Y/n was driving him insane.

“Thank you… for helping me that night” he said. “How did you know I was there?”

“I was following you.” she replied.

“Why?”

Shrugging, she gave him her answer. 

Truthfully, Y/n didn’t know why she was following him that night. After they left the subway tunnels she could have gone home, done with the last favor she owned Cobblepot. However, deep down her mind, he was there. And she worried about him. She knew Penguin well, she knew what he could do. And she didn’t want harm getting in his way. So she followed him.

She wanted to make sure he was alright. Why? God knows why. Y/n doesn’t. Or she refused to admit the real answer.

Jason. The sweet name stuck in her mind since he’d given it to her, and she urged to know what he looked like behind the mask. Put a face to the name, as they say. Did he look as fine as his name sounded? As his voice did? As his body would let on?

“You were pretty quiet these past few days” he said, circling the motorcycle and moving her way.

“I took some time to think.” she replied, returning her gaze to the rain.

“About what?”

“Curious much?” she joked, entertained by his need to get to know her. “About my life. Or what’s left of it”

“Hmm. Could have guessed you were working on another plan.” he joined in with a light joke.

“I got plenty of time for that, too.” she threw him a smile, blinding him for a second. “There’s just so much going on right now. Its…”

“Exhausting?” He cut her. “I guess working with Penguin does that to you”

“I don’t work with him” she threw back at him, her tone a bit sharper.

“For him, with him. It all sounds the same to me.” he said, opening his arms in contemplation.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, shaking  her head.

“Then explain it.” he requested. “Why do you do that? Why do you…”

“Steal, rob, trade, cause chaos” she cut him off. “I’m broke”

Pushing herself from the column, she moved to rest her hands on the window opening. The way she licked her lips and shook her head. The way her voice sounded ever so slightly broken. How she uncomfortably shifted on her feet after that comment. It wasn’t much of a choice, her way of life was perhaps the only solution. Jason felt sorry, he wanted to get closer, but he knew to stay away for now.

“I’m fucking broke. My family is gone. I don’t feel like working my ass off all day just to get paid in crumbs. So I decided to take my life in a new direction, and it turns out I’m good at that.”

“I’d say, really good at it.” Jason complimented. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy that” Y/n looked at him over her shoulder and, shaking her head, gave him a smile.

Shrugging, he said: “I like a good challenge.”

Jason liked whatever this was much more than the angry, frustrated talks they had while chasing each other. It was light, fun. He could work well with that.

“By the way. I took it for a ride, hope you don’t mind” she said, resting her elbows on the short wall, and her cheeks on her hands. “That’s a really, really, sweet ride you have there” 

Gulp. With air tightening at his throat, he opened his helmet, taking it off and placing it on the tank of his bike. Jason's sweaty hair stuck to his face, cheeks still puffed from the heat after running all the way to the parking deck. 

That’s something I would like to take a sweet ride on, Y/n thought, but shook it away as soon as possible.

“What was that?” Jason asked her.

“What was what?” she pretended not to know, begging the universe he didn’t notice.

“What were you shaking your head at?” Eyebrows arched, she knew he noticed. “Like what you see?”

“You’ve been staring at my boobs from the moment you got here and I haven’t commented a thing” she said, turning her face so he couldn’t see her cheeks growing red.

Raising his hands in defeat, Jason tried to change topics.

“It was custom made.” he explained.

“Then you’ll have to tell me who did it, because I might be interested in getting one myself”

“I built it” Jason proudly informed. “It took me a while, but I got it done just how I wanted.”

“Wow” she moved one more time, facing him fully now, and crossing her arms over her chest. “You must be great working with your hands then”

Looking down, Jason stared at his own hands. Calloused, with a few bruises here and there, and desperate to have them exploring all over her. “I have my talents.”

“I see.”

A moment of silence followed. Not awkward, not tense. Just quiet, as both tried to stray their eyes from each other.

“Just don’t put anyone in danger, alright?” was all Jason asked, turning around to leave. 

“So you’re really leaving?” Y/n blurted out, not proud of sounding desperate, but desperately not wanting him gone. “Just like this?”

If he was stupid, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight tint of sadness on her voice, or the light touch of desperation ingrained in it. But he wasn’t, he heard it. And mysteriously, it boosted something deep inside him, an ego he didn’t know he owned.

“I have work” liar.

“Do you?” she questioned, walking in his direction. 

Jason was already mounted on his motorcycle, ready to turn the engine on. But the sight of her getting closer stopped him from doing anything else. He felt trapped somehow, like something was keeping him tied there. But there was no rope, not chains, not guns pointed at him. Just her.

All the way, her eyes never left his, looking at him through seductive eyes, challenging him, inquiring the truth. However, he saw, deep down, they were also begging him to stay. Watching her every move, lips sore from biting, his mouth hung open when, upon reaching him, she crossed her right leg over the tank of his motorcycle, sitting on it.

Her knees touched his thigh, the space between them minuscule. She was close, oh so close to him. His hot breath hit her face, making her eyelashes move. Her own blowing directly at his lips. 

“Do you really have to work tonight?”she questioned him one more time, hands sliding up his tights, eyes hanging low and falling on his lips. His own hands traveling to her waist, as Jason saw himself drawing her even closer. 

“Not if I don't want to” he stated in a breath, voice weak and desperate. He could feel his pants getting tighter, and heat building up from his neck.

“Don’t then” she whispered against his lips, hers dangerously close, almost touching his.

“I won’t” he said, one hand flying to the nape of her neck and finally, finally, closing the space between their mouths.

Ferociously, Jason’s mouth wandered over hers, tongue immediately sliding in. He held strongly at her neck and waist, as her hands laid and caressed at his tights. The kiss was wet, hot, and desperate. He wanted to drown himself on her lips, lose himself in her touches. And Y/n was just as needy, as her hands traveled up and down his tights, and her sweet moans filled Jason’s ears like a soft lullaby.

Lifting her legs over his, tangling them around his waist, she drew her body closer, locking the small gap they still had between them and grinding on his clothed crotch, while her hands dangerously made their way to where he wanted them most. Palming his dick, Y/n let out a surprised gasp, as her small hand barely cupped his size entirely. 

Y/n already expected him to be big. Looking at his body size, it was an easy assumption to make. Sometimes when they met, she would notice the bulge in his pants and spend the rest of the night just thinking about his potential. And, when they were making out on her guest room bed, she could feel just how big he was. 

With Y/n massaging him up and down over his pants, Jason would release deep guttural noises, but never bothered about ever ungluing their mouths. His kiss was sloppy, wetting even her chin. He’d suck at her bottom lip, biting it occasionally. The silvery taste of blood filling his taste buds.

As she tightened her hold on him, he grunted loudly into her mouth. Taking both her wrists with one single hand, he took them away from his crotch and held them tightly behind her back. Lowering her onto the panel, being careful to not hurt her head, he stood on his feet as he dry humped her jeans. The thick fabric of her pants adding to the feeling on her already sensitive clit. WIth her legs still wrapped around his waist, she assisted his movement with some of her own, moaning out his name like a prayer, as nibbled at her neck. 

He kissed his way down her neck, sucking and biting on it, certainly leaving his mark on her skin. Knowing the bruises she would have by the next morning only grew his lust, a sense of power in having her marked as his own. With his big hands, he wrapped them around her breasts, picking at her nipples over her shirt. Y/n moaned, arching her back and exposing her neck even more for him to reach places he couldn’t before. 

He wanted her stained, body covered in purple, as his little art project. He wanted her mindless, no thoughts in her head, drunk from pleasure. He wanted her under his power, dependent, addicted. He wanted her so bad, so good, so wet for him. He wanted to fuck her here and now.

But he had to wait. Against his own nature, he had to stop, before it was too late.

“Get off” he demanded, raspy voice making shivers run down her spine. Pushing away, he unhooked her legs from around him and with the back of his hand, he tried to clean his lips. 

Upon his words, her eyes shot open, confusion and disappointment evident in her irises. Jason had to hold himself as to not fuck her then and there, as she looked fucking desperate for him. Needy of his touch.

“I’m not fucking you on my motorcycle.” he state, handing her his hand to help her off his bike. “I know a way better place for us to go.”

“Are you gonna be able to wait till we get there?” she asked, still breathless from seconds ago.

“You made me wait two days already. I guess I can handle a few more minutes. Can you?” he traded a question, raising one eyebrow at her.

Biting her lips, she rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, looking all messed up still. A part of her told her to go, leaving him hanging with his own ego she knew pretty well was getting inflated by each second she spent under his touch. But her horny side, the one speaking the loudest tonight, just wanted to get its release. 

Climbing over the back of his bike, she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the ripped muscles of his well shaped abdomen, and rested her cheek on his back.

Turning on the engine, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Hold tight”

A fan of speed, Jason had a feeling he had never driven faster. 

All over the city, he had secret hiding spots where he’d store weapons, money, and gadgets he needed for patrol. Small spots, needed mostly for storage and the occasional stitching up after a tough fight. But one of them was larger, his safehouse, built from two stacked up containers at an abandoned port storage lot. Jason considered it almost like a home, being there most of the time while out of patrol and not being busy with his civilian stuff.

He knew it was dangerous to bring her there, she could very well be tricking him, trying to get deep within his skin and rip something out of it. But every ounce of carefulness left his body the moment he crashed his lips to hers.

Parking outside in the dark lot, they climbed out of his vehicle and Y/n waited as he opened the container’s door. Inside, she was surprised by the tidiness of the place, not something she was expecting to see. It was clean and well organized. It contained a small kitchen, a living room and a bedroom on the opposite side to the door.

Y/n curiousness was heightened. This was so different to what she expected his home would be like. She thought he’d be like every other guy she had met, with a messy bedroom, unorganized book shelves, clothes hanging from everywhere. Sure, she hasn’t been with the type of guys that wouldn’t be messy, but his bunker was a very welcome surprise.

A stack of books decorated his coffee table, the only slightly “messy” thing in the entire unit. Taking the one from the top of the pile, Y/n was satisfied to see the early edition of Jane Austen’s Emma among his recent reads.

On the wall, a display showed a series of guns, knives and other weapons, drawing Y/n’s interest in seeing them from up close.

“Admiring the knives, Y/n?” Jason asked, breaking the silence hovering between them since they arrived in the place.

“You have quite the collection.” grabbing a larger knife in her hands, she turned back to him and continued. “No ropes, but knives. I see you’re into some kinky shit, Jason”

“We all have our thing” he didn’t deny. “Fire, isn’t it?”

Y/n liked cocky and fun Jason so much better than the angry annoying one she’d get most nights. Although she enjoyed annoying him, seeing how frustrated he’d get every time they met, this new calm, tranquil version of him was growing in her heart. 

It was hard to admit she had a thing for him, the guy who so desperately wanted to take her behind bars. She didn’t blame him, she knew what she did wasn’t that great. She didn’t have to do it like that, there were other options that wouldn’t have been as “easy”, but wouldn’t certainly get her into this much trouble. But all his trouble led her here, to his home, or she so assumed this unit was.

Almost every night, they’d meet, even if briefly, between all the other chaotic events in the city of chaos Gotham City. And every time they meet, religiously, Y/n would spend the rest of the night with him on her head. There was something about his hooded self, the mystery behind the mask, that attracted her. The fact he would do anything in his power to send her to Blackgate or any other prison added a risk factor that only made him hotter.

Then, she became obsessed. She'd learned his watching spots, always making sure to show up just around the corner. On the day of the Tiffany’s robbery, she knew he was close, and decided to strike before anyone else got close.

She didn’t think he’d like her back though. That night in her apartment came as a very welcoming surprise.

Everything that led to this event came as a surprise too. She was supposed to go home, rest after being done with her last debt to Penguin. But she saw him on her way, tiredly looking beyond at, seemingly, nothing, just waiting for something to happen. And then, she just stood there, watching him under the bridge, watching him fight with the two idiots she had met before at Penguin’s club, and watched him almost getting beat by Solomon Grundy. If she didn’t intervene soon enough, he’d have. But she wouldn’t let him, not under her watch.

Taking him from the floor, she carried his body with much difficulty to her apartment. Not all the way, as she stopped to rob someone’s car to drive him there, ensuring the driver she’d would return the car the very next day. She did, and even left him a thank you letter. 

Bringing him home was a stupid idea. At least at first. But when he looked at his cuts and scratches, she couldn’t help the primordial instinct of taking care of him. And when he looked all hot and needy, and when he kissed her passionately, bringing him home was suddenly the best decision she had made in a while.

But she couldn’t let it happen then. She was a criminal, but she still had a moral code. Don’t steal from the poor, only the rich. Help those around if you can. Don’t fuck anybody with the slightest level of unconsciousness due to alcohol, meds, drugs, or whatever. Basic human ethics everyone should know.

She regretted it, of course, as him doing things to her body were all that clouded her mind the entire day, her hands and toys not doing enough to send those thoughts away.

There was also the thought in the back of her head telling him he only wanted to fuck her because she was “hot”. Sure, maybe she wasn’t the prettiest, or had the hottest body, but it seemed like was more attracted to her than into her. She couldn’t say the same, feeling exactly the opposite. She imagined once he’d fucked her, he’d fuck with her and had her trapped and sent away.

She didn’t want him to break her heart. Yet, where she was now, she was waiting for it.

“Penny for your thots… Er-hm thoughts” he coughed, worrying about her sudden silence.

“Nothing important.” she replied quietly.

“Really?” he questioned again, wanting to be sure she was fine. “Anything I can help with?”

He was walking closer ever so slowly. Reaching her, he set his arms around her, on the same table she was holding herself against, trapping her in place and forbidding her from getting away.

Just fuck me out of this thoughts, she mentaly replied, for some reason too ashamed to say it out loud. 

His face rested mere inches from hers, and she could feel his minty breath once again.

“I want to kiss you” he admitted. “Can I?”

Biting her lower lip seductively, eyes glued on his, Y/n closed the space between them one more time. This turn, though, the kiss was softer, more contained, yet still as hot. His hand flew to caress her cheek with his thumb, palms resting on her jaw and the nape of her neck.

This slower pace, although really enjoyable, from Y/n perspective just wasn't enough. Her underwear felt sticky from the arousal she had earlier, and her core still twitched in desire. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer and speeding up their kiss, becoming slowly as sloppy as it had been before.

He held onto her thighs, wrapping them around his waist. The close contact between their cores heating up their surroundings. She grinded on him, begging for some attention down there, as his lips wandered from her mouth to her neck, leaving bites all along. 

She could feel his hardening member growing inside his pants, the junction of his bulge and the hard fabric causing the friction against her clit to feel even better. Her moans were becoming louder and couldn’t stop fleeing her lips. Jason, on the other hand, kept his composure.

The tables were turned now, and Y/n was the one desperate for release. 

Sliding his large hands under her shirt, he pulls it up her head with ease. He watched her chest heaving under her pink lacy bra, the sight driving him closer to the edge. While he stared, Y/n swiftly slipped her hands down to take off her jeans too, as Jason took the hint and removed his jacket and his shirt too.

Y/n pulled him by his belt, ending their distance to kiss him once more. His hands flew to her boobs, tightening his hold and playing with her hardened nipples. Slowly, he made his way down to the valley of her breast, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could find. Looking up, they locked eyes, Jason making sure to not look away as he pulled the cloth covering her tit with his own teeth.

The sight couldn’t have been sexier, Y/n not noticing the moan she let out just at that. 

Mouth clashing against her soft skin, Jason sucked violently on one boob as his hand played with the other, causing Y/n’s head to roll back and hit the knife display on the wall. Her sudden move dropped a few of his knives onto the table, but they couldn’t have cared less, both letting out breathy laughs over the incident.

When he felt he was done with her breasts, he licked his way down belly, sending shivers down her spine. When he reached the waistline of her panties, Y/n’s breath hitched. The hot air from his breath hitting her core. She watched him attentively, waiting for his next move.

“I can smell how excited you are, Y/n” he commented, eyes glued to her core. “I wonder how you’d taste like”

Y/n had to hold tight onto the table to not let out a scream, Jason’s warm tongue sending jolts of electricity up her spine. He licked up and down her folds, one stroke at a time, driving Y/n nuts from impatience. He noticed her despair, and he enjoyed it thoroughly, slowing his pace even more, taking his sweet time licking at her clit.

“Jay…” Y/n begged, a hand moving to grasp at his hair.

“Pantience, sweetheart.” he mumbled between her tights.

“P-please”

Deciding to attend to her pleas just this once, Jason shoved his face down her soppy pussy, tongue moving at a much faster pace. Y/n’s legs went instinctively to rest over his shoulders, and he grabbed them tight to keep her trembling body from moving. Y/n’s lower abdomen twitched, as Jason devoured her intimacy like a hungry man. 

Jason was focused, himself enjoying every moment he spent licking her cunt. Sometimes he would give some much needed attention to her clit, and watch her squirm and shake above him. Her warmth overcoming him, her liquids sliding down his jaw, face all wet from her pleasure.

“Ah, you’re doing so good!”

“We’re just starting, Yn.”

And dropping her legs down, he stood up from the floor, shin glistering. Confusion and disappointment much more evident on Y/n face this time, frustrated with being so close to release. 

Jason breaks them apart, Y.n’s head rolling backwards immediately, as she begged for air. For a few seconds, he took some time  to admire her pose, boobs hanging out, face crunched from pleasure. But he didn’t waste any time before shoving his mouth on her nipples, drawing a surprised scream from the back of her throat.

“W-why did you stop?” she asked under heavy breaths.

“C’mon Y/n. I’ve never been easy on you. What made you think I was gonna do it this time?”

A smirk on his face, he spread her weak legs apart and stood in the middle, cupping her cheeks and leaning in for a kiss. Y/n could taste herself in his tongue, his soaked face staining her own with her juices.

“Do you wanna go to Blackgate?” he suddenly asked. Not understanding a thing, Y/n just stared at the muscular guy ahead. “Answer me Y/n. Do you wanna go to Blackgate?”

Y/n just shook her head.

“Good” he said, giving her a chaste kiss. Reaching behind her back, Jason grabbed one of the fallen knives. “I guess you won't be needing this tonight”

Gliding the blade carefully up her tights, Jason cut her panties and with a swift movement threw them aside. He grabbed the back of her legs and wrapped them on his waist, propping her up to carry her to his bed.

As she laid in his bed, exposed and vulnerable, she took some time to admire his strong body. Ripped muscles modeled his arms and abdomen, and basically every body part she landed her eyes on. Standing at the edge of the bed, staring her down while holding a knife, he looked dangerous and borderline frightening.

“Tonight, Y/n, I’ll be giving you a sentence.”

Slapping hard at her cunt, Jason’s hand massaged her clit with his thumb as two fingers slid inside of her. “And you’ll leave here a good, reformed citizen”

Y/n couldn’t hold back the loud moans that escaped her mouth. Arching her back, she screamed his name like a prayer. Hands grabbing onto the bed sheets, Y/n saw her mind go blank with her first orgasm of the night.

“Such a good girl”

As Y/n heaved and panted, trying to ease her breath, she listened to the sound of his belt falling to the floor. When she looked up to face him, Jason was  stroking his dick, grunting by himself as he watched her struggle to keep herself together. She observed his red tip drip with pre cum, her tongue instinctively hanging out.

“Do you wanna lick?”

She nodded innocently, moving to stand closer, but he pushed her back to fall on the bed again. 

“No. Not tonight.” pulling her to him, he slapped his dick on her soft cunt, teasing her entrance with his own tip. “Tonight I’m fucking you”

With one hard movement, Jason slipped his entire length inside of Y/n. She cried out his name, as his thickness stretched mercilessly, the sharp sensation causing tears to form in her eyes. He thrusted hard into her, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room.

“Oh, god. F-fuck!” she cried out.

He held her tight for support, pulling her and he pumped his cock deeper, getting lost in the warm sensation of being wrapped inside her tight wet cunt. 

“Sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. You’re making me feel so good.”

He watched her clothed tits jumping up, and angrily removed her last clothing item from her body. Palming her breast, he played with them as his thrusts started getting sloppier. H could finally feel his frustrations fading away with every thrust, and as she sang out his name he could feel his release getting closer. 

With one last hard thrust, he pushed himself out.

“Turn around” he demanded, and she quickly obeyed.

His hard hand hit her ass, surprising her and drawing out a loud cry. He slid his hand once more between her folds, watching her tremble under his touch.

“Jason, please, please. Just make me cum”

“Not yet, princess” he warned, as she cried in complaint, but as he kept stroking her clit she came undone on his fingers. “Tsc tsc tsc. I told you not yet.”

“I’m s-sorry, Jay. I just couldn’t… you were making me feel s-so good. Aah”

Jason pushed her head down onto the mattress, holding her in place by the neck.

“You better keep yourself together. Or do you want me to send you to Blackgate right after we’re done”

“No, please”

“Then wait till I let you cum” she nodded her head, tears soaking the bed.

He lined himself at her entrance once more, teasing it with his tip and he felt her cum melting on his tip. Snatching her hands from where they were supporting her up, he held them fiercely behind her back, as he made his way deep inside of her.

His cock hit heavily at her cervix. Her wall is tightening around him, sucking him even deeper. He was losing himself on her while he fucked her dumb. After so long trapped in intrusive thoughts and in unholy dreams, Jason felt in heaven. He grunted out her name, thankful for choosing a safehouse so far from everybody.

His thrust were getting clumsy, his dick missing entrance her a few times. As she placed him back where she wanted him most, she thrusted back, giving him a moment to rest before returning his moves once again.

“Jay” she whispered out. “I getting close”

“Shhh. Not now, baby. Just a little bit more.”

Grabbing her by the neck, he yanked her up to meet his chest. Her head rolled back to rest on his shoulders as he gained speed, the new position making him hit her favorite spot. Y/n cried out in his ears, when he fingered her clit for a third time.

He bit and sucked on the skin of her shoulder, holding back moans of his own.

“Jay, I-i” she tried to speak, but he cut her off by crashing his lips to hers. Still clutching her neck, he sucked on her tongue as he felt her nail dig into his ass.

“I’m almost there” he announced, sucking on earlobe. “Just tell me. Tell me you’ll stop.”

His drive never seeming to slow down, he requested, voice muffled her neck. he requested. 

“Tell me you stop stealing, robbing, dealing. Tell me you’ll stop, then I’ll let you come”

“I’ll stop. Yes, please. I’ll stop, I’ll stop. Jason, please let me come.”

“Look me in the eye tell me this again. Like you mean it” he demanded, capturing her chin and moving her look him deep in the eye.

“I’ll stop. I’ll be a good girl… just for you.”

Jason’s hands rubbed her harder, his thrusts making her mind go blank from ecstasy as her body melted onto his. The know below his stomach coming undone as he filled her with his seed, her own orgasm makes her body spasm against his hold.

Riding out his high, he pushed in at a much slower pace. Leaving butterfly kisses on her back as he lowered them both to rest on the mattress.

When he pulled out, Y/n groaned, already missing the sensation of him filling her up.

After cleaning themselves, Jason watched her back rising and falling, breathing finally even , her eyes closed as she laid on her belly. It wasn’t a sight he expected to see anytime soon, or ever, really. But he was glad to be seeing it, he was glad she was here. With him.

Getting back on the bed, he pulled her and hugged her from behind. He laid a soft kiss behind her ear, hearing the quiet sound of her breath.

“Do you bring many of his villains here?” she gently asked.

“Only the potentially dangerous ones.”

“I hope you have tapped your night with the Joker then. I’d be really interested in watching that”

Throwing his head back, Jason blurted out laughing. Y/n’s heart beat faster at the sound, wishing to hear it more often.

“Relax. He didn’t catch my attention like you.” he confessed, returning to leave kisses on her skin, something he found himself addicted to. “No one did.”

“Good!” she said, and she tightened his hold onto her middle. “I don’t want your attention anywhere else.”

. tag list (i can't believe i've got one of those lmao, thank you so much for the love you've given this story ♡

@dolliezxo @stevesdick @miraculous-panic @kk00789 @alecmoress @parkjammys @biggetywitch @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @dakotali @theendofthematerialgworl

[mistymisfit]

So long, Marianne I

Summary: Reader is a spy working undercover in Gotham when she meets Jason Todd, who despite her better judgement she forms a very close friendship with. This story follows their escape from Arkham asylum, their fall out and the times they run into each other as they get older.

Relationship: AK!Jason x Meta!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence (I'm serious, tho- in canon it's also pretty violent), angst, hurt/no comfort (for now), this series is just my excuse to write angst lol.

A/N: *CIPA means Congenital insensitivity to pain and anhydrosis aka people who are unable to feel pain. see the end for more notes :)

Word Count: 4,2K

Read on AO3

Part 2- Masterlist

He repeats his question one more time before kicking your stomach again, "Who are you?". He's been asking the same thing for the past... month? Time gets blurry when you're kidnapped. Fuck, undercover work sucked no matter who you did it for. Whether it was your actual boss or the big bad bat himself, they should all make it up for making you endure this--make it up by dying, you thought. God, whose stupid idea was it again? Letting yourself be kidnapped by the Joker so they could track his lair and see if he had any connections to your current case, ah yes... your boss. Not even Batman would ask you to do that, at least the man had some moral code he hung onto, maybe a little too tight. You've earned an early retirement after this assignment, almost two years living in Gotham, out of everywhere. But what neither you or your boss expected was that he'd know your "secret identity" was fake, that he would torture and kill the agents who worked with you and pretended to be your family--or that they'd sell you out. You whisper, they were not even words just an unintelligible sound. He lowers down, putting his ear close to your mouth to be able to listen better and asks you to repeat yourself. You bite him, as hard as you can and draw blood, lots of it which you spit out with a smirk.

"Fuck you" You taunt and he just laughs, holding his wounded ear. The laughing is excessive, it reverberates around the entire room and you brace for the next impact. But it never comes.

"I think it's time you met a friend we have in common" His smile makes dread set in on you, who? By his standards it could be anyone, from someone you actually knew to someone you've never met but was there to pick up on his dirty work as he went to do other things. He pushes you with his feet until you lay on your stomach and begins to cover your hands, you count the layers. First some kind of cloth, then plastic wrap, then aluminum foil, then a bag to hold it all together. Right, you let everyone believe your healing abilities could only work with your hands.

He drags you up, grabbing one of your arms as he walked you to a different room. The side of his head still bled, and you watched the blood fall down and how it got no reaction from him. He must be used to pain or there must be something wrong with his pain nerves. Maybe not enough to be CIPA* because you have seen him wince and experience pain before. Your feet fail you, you can barely take steps due to how weak you are. Every bite of food you've been forced to take ended up being spat or thrown up moments later. You can feel how chapped your lips are, how tangled your hair is, how deep the bags under your eyes must be, the way your arms hurt from being tied behind your back for too long, how much you must look like shit. He opens a door to a mostly dark room, you can only make out a figure sitting on a chair under the singular light in the entire room. He--yeah, it's a guy definitely, you think--he's got his head low, his posture isn't close to being okay and upon further inspection you realize he's tied to the chair. He's pushing to walk in his direction, and you recognize that hair, even though less dirty, and that side profile way less hurt. You knew that person, you knew him maybe a little too much for your mission.

Jason Todd was once your friend, possibly the only friend your age you've ever had. You met him when he was Robin, being instructed that working with Batman may end up being beneficial at the end of the line you were told not to antagonize him. Even helped him every once in a while to get at least his respect. The first time you ever talked to Jason-- or rather Robin at the time, was when he sprained an ankle one night. You were there, trying to gain info on an illegal arms shipment that was arriving that night "We just have to know who bought it" they told you. You weren't there to stop them, you barely were allowed to actually stop bad things from happening and sometimes you envied that in them. They were their own person, they could have lives, make their own decisions, have agency of their own. Instead you, poor you, you had nothing but your work, no family you knew of, no goals of your own, nowhere to go if you wanted to quit. You healed him, at least that you could do. Maybe word would get out of a new vigilante with "unspecified healing abilities", they didn't have to know you actually manipulated time and just turned time back to a moment they weren't hurt. And from that moment on, unknown to you, he had a crush on you.

He started following you around. It's not stalking he'd justify it, he was just investigating. Making sure whose side you were on because after all you were on the harbor the day he stopped some local gangs from getting their hands on bigger guns. But he found no more than your cover story, neither he or Batman could leave a secret identity be secret. He believed your cover story, no one had any reason to question it. You were just Marianne, a simple girl. A simple girl with superpowers who healed his ankle. Later, when you became closer, sitting next to each other on the rooftop of a building looking down on the city lights, and the traffic that still moved late at night, you explained to him that your powers came from a freak accident in a lab when you were a kid. That much was true, most of the things you told him were true. At the time you felt he was someone who understood you, and he felt the same. And that's how the both of you started developing feelings for each other. It was more than just a crush and the need to have the other closer kept getting stronger. You kept reminding yourself that you couldn't, that you were being so unfair to him, keeping him in the dark about who you really were, if he knew the truth he would never have trusted you. So when you were told he died, how Batman was so sure of it, you regretted everything. You were so decided on telling him the night he disappeared, why didn't you do it before? You've been living with that ever since, the regret, the guilt. And it only got worse when you found out he was dead, knowing he died not knowing your real name, he died believing your lies.

"No," you try to stop, not to get closer to his corpse. "what kind of trick is this?"

"Ah, come on- he's still your friend, isn't he?" You struggle, not letting him move you and putting your entire body weight into it, every strain of energy you had in trying to stop it. How sick is he? He kept his body all this time. Tears fell on your face just thinking about it. How much he suffered, how violent his last moments were, how he didn't get justice or a proper burial.

"You can't even respect the dead," You cry "I'm gonna rip your heart out of your chest with my bare hands, do you hear me? I'll make your death so violent even Batman will feel sick"

Your threats started falling out of your mouth faster than the logic in your brain could work, you shouldn't be saying those things. You couldn't be making empty promises like that, you knew you couldn't kill him. You would never be allowed to do it. He laughed, and laughed and pushed you to fall on your back right at the feet of your dead friend. You looked up, just a peak to see his face one last time but he didn't look decomposed, in fact he even had fresh blood on his face. You also saw his chest moving up and down very slowly, was he sleeping?

"Ah, how sweet of you" The man awes, pretending to be flustered by her death threats "but I didn't kill him"

He steps closer and slaps Jason's face, yelling "Wakey, wakey! You have a visit!"

You watch in shock at how he his eyes open so fast, how his head shoot up and the fear in his expression starts to settle in. He wore an orange jumpsuit, as if he was just an inmate more, his cheeks were stained with tears, there was dry blood on one of his nostrils and his lower lip had a cut. Not to mention the "J" scar on his face too.

"What did you do to him?" You ask, sitting up from where you were.

"We were just having fun together, right Jason?" He grabs his head from behind him to make him shake it, saying yes. "and you and I can have just as much fun, soon as you start telling the truth"

"Ma-Marianne?" His voice is rough and low, it was the first time you heard him scared.

"Yes," You crawl closer to him, and look up at him before resting your forehead in one of his legs to hide your face as you started to weep inconsolably "I'm so sorry, they said you were dead, that-"

There is a deadly silence filling the room , where you can only hear your ugly sobs. Jason doesn't respond and you didn't expect him to, but at least they let you cry in peace. Taking in the fact that he'd been alive all this time, thinking about what he's been put through as you mourned like an idiot when you should've kept looking for him. How you abandoned him, how everyone abandoned him. And that made you feel even worse than your initial thought of Joker not letting him rest after he died, because in that case there was nothing you could've done but now... You felt his leg move lightly and you looked up, maybe you were making him uncomfortable and this was his way of saying it. He mouthed a little "I love you" when he knew your captor wouldn't see it. Just then as you gave him a small nod and mouthed "I love you too" you saw he was crying too. Soon his tears fell on you, and he moved his shoulder and turned his head to wipe them off as he sniffed.

"Aww, isn't it romantic, Mr J?" Harley's voice sounds from behind you but you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him. You were getting out there tonight, fuck your cover, fuck your job, he was the only thing that mattered right now.

"Young love," He sighs, dreamy, as if he knew what he was talking about. Like he knew what love felt like at all in any way, shape or form. "We'll have a little menage a trois, It'll be fun dont cha' think?"

And soon enough you felt Harley's arms holding you down as he put a rag over your face and proceeded to throw water. Jason screamed, asking them to stop, that you had nothing to do with them. You coughed when they stopped, at least maybe your face was clean and free of the blood you bit from him earlier. You could handle getting waterboarded, you've been trained to endure all sorts of torture methods. What you couldn't handle was hearing and seeing him like that.

"Now, your little girlfriend hasn't been entirely honest with you"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I've already told you who I am" You insist, this time actually desperate.

"Ah- and who are these two then? Liars?" He shows him, not you, a picture of your fake parents dead. Then he shows it to you, of course Jason thought they were your parents, you gave him no reason to believe otherwise. "Cause you see, I thought you were just another annoying kid, getting in the way of my game with the bat- but you're much more than, you're too good"

Silence, you were trained better than this. They put the cloth on your face again, trying once more to get the truth out of you.

"Hey, maybe he knows" He switches up quickly, and takes a piece of broken wood to hold it over Jason "Come on tell me, who's her? And why is your old man protecting her?"

"Her name's Marianne, and he's protecting her because she's my friend"

"Ah-" He imitates a buzzer noise, like he was in some game show "Wrong answer" He hit him.

"Stop it!" You yell, as he repeatedly hit him. You struggle trying to break free from the woman holding you. Until you managed to hit her with my head somehow. You feel the pain in your scalp from her teeth hitting you too.

"This is useless mista' J," Harley spoke, doubt filled her voice. Maybe you were telling the truth, maybe you were just who you said you were and he was too lost to see it. "the girl's been saying the same for months, and her parents weren't even that convincing when they said they weren't her folks"

You watch them leave, him being visibly angry at her for questioning him. Only for him to come back moments later, almost bolting to Jason saying "I have a show to run outside, could you two behave and wait for me here?" Like you had much of a choice, then he said "And hold this for me, boy" before stabbing him. Of course he couldn't stop by without leaving him with an open wound of any sort. You rushed to him before the door was even closed, you removed the knife from the wound with your mouth, your hands still tied behind your back and wrapped up in multiple different layers in a failed attempt to stop you from using your power. Your eyes lit up as you healed him, his pained grunts eventually coming to a stop.

"I bet I look like shit right now" You joke, resting your cheek on his thigh once more. T rying to hide the fact that, despite the situation you were in, you were still a bit embarrassed that he saw you like that.

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life" He confesses, not a single strain of joke or sarcasm in his statement and it makes you blush before you move to the back of his chair to untie him.

"You only say that because you want me to free you" You say before grabbing the rope with your teeth, taking longer to undo the knots than it would with your hands on your back and not being able to see what you were doing. If only they didn't think your powers worked from your hands.

"His ear, you did it?" He asked, getting a muffled sound of confirmation from you. "That's my girl"

The scoff in which he said it made you blush again, your cheeks were heating up tonight. He knew if anyone was ever getting him out it would be you, not Batman. His mentor probably started to look for a replacement as soon as he went off the grid. He knew you would never betray him, that's the only thing the Joker couldn't torture or manipulate out of him, the one thing he could hold on to. His kidnapper was wrong, he was never Batman's or his. He's always been yours, probably since you healed his ankle. The ropes around his arms loosen until he's free again, his muscles were sore but soon the adrenaline would kick in and rid him from all pain. He frees his legs in a hurry as you stand up in front of him, he stands up too again. The stretch felt good, moving on his own felt good, and seeing you again felt even better. You turned around, it was his turn to get rid of the ropes now. He grabbed the knife that you couldn't use and cut through your bindings. Still he couldn't help but think about the worried look on your face, what are you thinking about? How to get out? Him? Whatever it was, he took a moment and the second you turned to face him again he wrapped you in a hug. Feeling your warm body against him for the time in so long, you return the affection hugging him just as tightly. He feels relieved, finally a gentle hand lays on him, a hand that he knew could never hurt him.

"Jay, I-" You hesitate, hiding your face in his chest while trying to hide and get the courage to tell him at the same time "I have to tell you something"

"Can it wait until we get out?" You shake your head no, he had to know so you could break out from there. I mean, it was kinda hard to break out of Arkham without help.

"No, uhm, we need to call for help" You start "There's a chip on me, I need you to cut me and take it out"

"What? Help from who?"

"My agency" You admit in a whisper, and just as fast as you got him back you feel how you're loosing him a second time. He lets go of you, and you can feel the distance he's putting between you two more than any torture Joker put you through.

"Where is it?" He asks, his tone cold and detached. You try to hide how hurt you were, you should've expected it he had every reason to be mad.

"Here" You lift your shirt up and point to the place where the tracker was, on your lower stomach right above your hips, on your left side.

He nods, and you lay down on the floor so he can get to work. He touches you, only to get a feel of where it was and you try not to think that this will probably be the last time you feel him so close as you put your arm over your mouth to stop any noise that may come out of you. He cuts your skin, and you bite your arm and hope it's quick. With the end of the knife he swiftly pulls it out in between all the blood coming out of you. You tell him to step on it so it gets destroyed and sends the message, as you heal yourself. He wasn't even watching you, his eyes were fixed on the door processing yet another betrayal.

"Jay, I wanted to tell you-" You try to explain but he cut you off shooting a serious glare at you.

"I don't care," He was cold, his voice severe and it even scared you "get me the fuck out of here and we'll talk"

You nodded on the verge of tears, then deciding that holding on to the hope than when you two were somewhere safer he'd be open to have a conversation was your safer bet to maintain some sanity. Maybe then he'd listen to your apologies. At this point you weren't hoping for absolution but a truce would suffice. Why did you have to go and fuck it up? Why did you have to go and fall for him? You knew who you were, a spy trained for most of the life you remembered who worked undercover in Gotham, you knew you were not supposed to have any ties or emotional connections. You cursed at whoever gave you feelings and made you human, instead of whoever turned you into a machine.

"We should get moving, get to the extraction point"

He just nodded, it was short and formal, so unlike what you were used from him. He followed behind you as you carefully opened the door. There were no guards outside, so you moved. Soon an alarm started to blare through the rotten and worn down asylum wing, that's why the hallway was so empty. Two inmates run past both of you, pushing you to a wall in the process. You reach to grab Jason's wrist to make sure he's behind you but stop halfway through. Probably being touched by you was the last thing he wanted. So you just walk, decidedly pushing through this situation you were in. Armed with nothing but your fists you take out a man twice your size, you easily dodge his punches and swiftly move around him to hit him in key points that he leaves open. Jason watches, and realizes as you jump to the man's shoulders and snap his neck that you had been holding back all this time. He understands you have been capable of using lethal force but chose not to, though he doesn't know the reason for that. Was it because of Batman? Was it because you were ordered not to? He pushes down the thought, as he should be more focused on the guy he was fighting instead of you. You keep moving, going up to were a helicopter would be waiting for you. What you didn't expect was the Joker's backup plan, Death-stroke, pointing a gun right at your head. Shit, you didn't even tell him about your powers yet, he was going to be even more pissed if you didn't find another way out of this soon.

"Out of my way kid" He tells you "I'm only getting paid for not letting him leave alive, but I don't mind wasting a bullet"

"Oh, fuck off" you sigh tired, you just wanted to get out of there. You were exhausted, you wanted a shower and to sleep on a real bed and if it wasn't too much to ask maybe see the light of the sun. So you froze him, time stopped for the man in front of you. "move, it won't last long"

Jason wants to ask, he's itching to know. How did you do it? How did healing people translate into what you just did? He had so many questions for you, about you. Every time a new question came into his head he felt even more offended, he thought he knew you so well and turns out you'd made him out to be an idiot. He feels like an idiot and for that he's even angrier at you for lying, for keeping things from him when he had been so vulnerable to you. That you knew everything about him yet he knew barely anything about you and even what he knew he doubted it was even real at all. But out sheer stubbornness he wasn't going to ask, he'd rather take the curiosity to his grave.

The loud noise of a helicopter becomes more clear as you head up, and then you recognize the all black uniform and standard weapon of your agency. Confusion painted your face, why would they send backup instead of it just being an extraction team. Usually they didn't have a care in the word if you got out in time or not, even going as far as leaving you behind once. They weren't usually this helpful, or willing to use resources on a simple rescue mission. The help didn't last long since you heard the gun shot coming from where you came from. Shit, it wore off you better leave quickly. You tell him to run, to keep up the pace and he does, promising himself this was the last time he would trust you. It was all fine and well, you could see the escape route clearly you almost made it when you heard it. Jason held the bleeding wound from the bullet, stumbling until you helped him. You stole a gun from a passing agent, they wouldn't notice since it was just their back-up, and shot at the mercenary. Your aim was just a little off, since you were also holding a person with your other arm but you managed to hit his arm. The bullet just grazed him, your friend didn't have the same luck. You shot again, just to create some cover so you could move. It worked, you made it to the helicopter before he passed out from the blood loss. Sadly you couldn't heal him since the bullet was still there, so in tears as you took off you managed to stop his bleeding until you got help.

Of course your supervisor wasn't happy about you escaping earlier than expected or that you bought him along. But after some promises and insisting, they agreed not to let him die and took him to the closest headquarters. You knew the conditions they put on you were harsh but you thought nothing was worth more than his life, so you agreed. Even if it mean never seeing him again, why did it matter anyways? It's not like he wanted much to do with you after today.

A/N: Like I said on the notes on ao3, I'm sensitive and this is my first time posting what I write in a LONG time so have patience with me lol.

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

Having spent the last few weeks un-fridging Catherine Todd, let me tell you, I NEVER want to see another motherfucker complaining about how Jason was """fridged"""

Like, sorry folks but he just fucking wasn't!!! Even if he had been a female character, that would not have been a fridging. The narrative at all times was deeply concerned with his internal experience of the world, his motives and emotions, and always considered him a human being whose agency and autonomy needed to be considered and highlighted. At least half of Death in the Family is about Jason's wants and needs and his attempts to fulfill them. Jason constantly makes decisions that alter the course of the story.

"Oh but his death was used for the development of the other character and the tone of the narrative as a whole" yeah, no fucking shit, of course it was, that is the entire fucking point of killing a character off! When a character dies, they stop developing through their own story arc, so they can only effect the arcs of other characters. The fact that this is done disproportionately to women is only one part of what the concept of fridging is about and reducing it down to only that ignores the real meat of why fridging matters.

Fridging is about the way that female characters are killed off in ways that disregard their agency, write off any choices, emotions, or motivations they might have had as not worth examining, and pointing out that the reason female characters are so often killed this way is because women are thought of as being less capable of agency and less fully people than men.

A good way to tell if a character has been fridged is to ask yourself "Hmm, if this woman was replaced with a literal bitch, an actual four legged puppy dog, would the narrative meaningfully change?"

Catherine Todd was fridged for Jason. She has no opinions, no meaningful personality traits, no agency in her own story or basically anyone else's for that matter. She is sad. She is addicted. She is dead. That is the whole of her character. Her entire purpose is to be a bullet point of angst in Jason's backstory. If you replaced her with a dead dog, none of Jason's story would be meaningfully changed.

"Oh but she was a parent, all the Robins have dead par-" They why was it Willis Todd that got resurrected in order to turn Jason into the 'Damned Prince of Gotham' and not her? It's because misogyny. If you come to any other conclusion why Scott "Known to Write Misogynistically" Lobdell didn't make Catherine Todd the one to come back, you are fucking kidding yourself. She is a female character and was therefore not given the same consideration as the male characters, it is as simple as that.

We all have every right to rail against the way Jason was killed off, the way the narrative blames him for his own death, the ways that he has been badly mishandled. He's even a character that's suffered due to prejudice! The classism in the way he's handled is really strong! I also think there's a ton of value in an analytical comparison between the ways that Jason's mental health is treated and the origins of mental health stigma that are rooted in misogyny. The Jason Todd Hysteria Essay is a frequent reread for me.

However.

None of this makes him "female coded" and any serious comparison of how female characters are treated and how he is treated must inevitably run into the truth that he does benefit from all the privileges that a male character gets for being male. He is treated in classist and ableist ways, and both classism and ableism intersect with misogyny, but the fact of the matter is that he does not have direct misogyny wielded against him and the female characters around him suffer from misogyny to his benefit.

You can call his death obnoxious, a callow cash grab, poorly thought out, bad for his character, of overall detriment to society, et.c. and be perfectly justified in doing so

But if you claim that he was fridged you are factually incorrect and for the crime of ripping the label off of a feminist theory (and failing to learn what it means beyond the most reductive single sentence 'definition' possible) for the benefit of a male character I sentence you to having all of your socks dipped in musty ass bog water.

[natalieh0490]

Dc/Dp - Jason Todd Idea

I have heard people call Jason a revenant before in this kind of crossover, but what if it is taken in a different direction.

In this world revenants are people who return from the dead because they were not avenged like normal. But the process of someone forcing themselves back to life is very stressful, so it is rare. Then if someone manages to actually succeed the strain of the experience drives them permanently insane with a side of permanent rage. The newly resurrected person would only be able to focus on hunting the person who murdered them, and depending on the situation the people who allowed the loss of their life to be buried so easily. After their hunt was completed they would instantaneously drop dead. Then they would either immediately completely move on or wither away into nothingness depending on the person, but a revenant can never become a ghost.

Revenants could also be the inspiration behind zombies in the story. More importantly, revenants are the reason why people are buried six feet deep. So the revenants would suffocate before it could seek vengeance.

Bring Jason back into my idea. Jason came back to life as a traditional revenant, and due to his unyielding stubbornness managed to get out of the grave and begin his mindless hunt. But then Thalia found him and tossed him into the pit and managed to give him his mind back. For the first time there was a revenant who had regained their mind. Well mostly. Jason was still constantly angry which he hadn’t been before coming back to life, or at least not like this. Sometimes he would lose himself completely to the anger. Everyone blamed it on the pit madness, which could be its own Ectoplasmic side effect, but it was really his revenant nature resurfacing.

Later on, somehow someway Danny and Jason end up meeting. They both recognize each other as a kind of kindred spirit because they both are straddling the line between life and death, albeit in very very different ways. Since they recognize each other in such an instinctual way, Jason begs Danny to cure him of the pit madness. But Danny can’t because what he is dealing with isn’t pit madness and the rage is the only thing connecting his soul to his body even if he has regained his sanity.

It isn’t that Jason has fits of rage. He has fits of sanity.

Those fits of sanity last a very long time, and the rage impedes his life less as he adjusts, but that is how it works. Even if Jason avenged himself, it would be to fate if it made him essentially a extremely liminal human, die instantly, or some mysterious alternative option. No one knows what will happens because nothing like Jason had ever existed before. There have been documented cases of halfas before Pariah Dark eliminated every single one before Danny and the rest came along. But there has never ever been a single case in history of a revenant who regained themselves instead of carrying out their mission.

If you choose to use any part of my idea, please leave a link in the comments so I can read it.

Thanks

[theodorecanaryhood]

A Christmas story: A brother take away

Dick Grayson x Jason Todd x baby bat bro

Reader is taken by the Gotham rogues the week before Christmas.

Belfry fell into a deep silence as Jason looked through every security system he could find. He was hunting high and low for his baby brother.

Two days ago you were at a friend’s house where you were due to be picked up at 7, Jason turned up but you weren’t there.

Your friend’s parents said that an ‘uncle’ had come to pick you up, you ran out to the car and that was that. You of course are a smart kid and know about stranger danger. The man waited in the car for you to get in, that’s when you were taken.

Dick was out in the streets trying to hunt for a lead, but of course he wasn’t getting very far.

‘Are you aware that tomorrow is Christmas Eve?’ Jason asked the desk sergeant, the man only nodded.

‘And are you aware that there is an 11 year old out there somewhere, away from his family?’ Jason followed.

Dick placed his hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, giving him a small smile.

‘What he means is, our brother hasn’t been seen for three days now. Can you please just help?’ Dick asked, playing good cop by being calm and polite.

‘You can fill a missing persons report, but it may not happen over night’ the desk sergeant said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Jason found it pointless to ask for the police’s help anymore, not all of them seemed that interested or caring.

‘Jason, I think I found something’ Dick called out as he hacked into security cameras in an abandoned apartment building.

Within seconds the two had written down the address and were rushing out onto the streets to find you.

‘Y/n?’ Dick called out, seeing you with a police officer. You shot your head in the direction of your eldest brother.

‘Dick!’ You screamed as you ran towards him, Dick breathed as if he was about to cry. Dropping down to pick you up.

Dick lifted you off the ground as he held onto you, burying his face into your hair.

Jason rushed over shortly after, doing the same thing as Dick. Both so overwhelmed and exhausted, yet grateful they had found you safe and sound.

Jason sat on the backseat with you as Dick drove you all home, it was over and you were safe. Of course, Dick and Jason would have to get to the bottom of who took you, why, and then handle them accordingly. But for now, they were just happy to have you back.

[the-daydreaming-show]

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰...

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐔𝐬: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 (you are there) - Epilogue.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Every great show must have a great ending and with that a great plot twist that accompanies it, but yours is more than an end, the most difficult farewell that any mother can dare to say.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬): Bruce Wayne x ScarletWitch!Reader; Jason Todd x Batmom!Reader; Dick Grayson x Batmom!Reader; Tim Drake x Batmom!Reader.

English is not my first language, please be patient.

The 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 for this history is OPEN

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Well, here is the last chapter, I hope you enjoy it. We still have to see each other in the Epilogue but the truth is this story has been an incredible journey for me and I have more plans for this world so we will see each other again.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @igotmessymind @andieperrie18 @randomboostsofmotivation @totallynotme420 @igotmessymind @amarawayne

Tim heard the magic before he felt it. It was a small sound that only a trained ear could hear, Bruce had taught him to detect it, but they hadn't prepared him for what would come after that sound. 

Of course he had seen how you used it, since sometimes you used magic in the house to move from one place to another, Wayne Manor was excessively large and it was easier than walking twenty minutes to get to the kitchen, or shamelessly getting lost in the corridors. He had never been prepared to react defensively to that sound, though there wasn't much he could really do though. The magic wrapped around him tightly but harmlessly, it was actually a warm soft force around him but firm, leaving him with his arms glued to his sides and his feet dangling under him as he was lifted into the air.

“Mom” Jason's voice broke the air, but he was the only one surprised or scared by what had happened.

“Mrs Wayne, I just want to help” Tim managed to say as he watched you leave the house at a steady pace with your hands manipulating your magic to lift it into the air.

“Don’t say that. I don't want to hear about it” you said furiously while pushing the boy further away from the house thus getting away from Jason “The drones, the missiles. All these people. Bruce”You pointed accusingly, leading him further from the house, until you were in the open field between the building and the woods. Tim could see how behind you, Bruce, Diana and Clark were the only ones who stepped forward in the situation to catch them both, while Dick held Jason and forced him into the house. Dick knew that if he let the boy get in the middle of the fight, your need to protect him would only escalate the situation, so it was better for him to stay where he was safe. Tim told himself that he should thank him for that, because he was starting to feel the heat of your fury emanating from the magic around him and he was starting to sweat, he didn't need everything to get worse. Neither did you.

“He had nothing to do with all that” Clark spoke, trying to divert your attention from the boy so you'll face him. It didn't fully work, the magic remained around Tim, but you did turn to look at it, giving Tim a few valuable seconds to think clearly.

“All you do is LIE!” you told him, gritting your teeth and squeezing your hand unconsciously. You didn't want to hurt Tim. But by squeezing your hand you caused the magic to respond to your fury and squeeze Tim, the air gone from his lungs, causing him to gasp and Clark could hear the boy's bones crack at the force you had put into the magic. So he acted. But, as he reacted, Jason successfully dodged his older brother while he was busy looking worriedly at the scene and ran out of the house, brushing against the shoulder of Roy, who was casually leaning against the door frame, looking at the yard with resignation.

Clark used his heat vision in the direction of your hand to try to get you to reduce the force you were putting on the boy or just let him go. But he didn't see Jason approaching, and when he heard him it was too late, your face turned from anger to sheer terror at the thought that your son caught in the crossfire, you dropped Tim, who hit the ground with a thud, the backpack helping to break his fall. You reached out to Clark, who had to stop his Heat Vision because you'd blown a bubble around his head, which he knew for sure that no matter how much heat he applied it wouldn't let go, but you didn't end there. You picked Clark up by the neck and tossed him away as you watched Diana try to stop Jason. With your magic you grabbed her by her feet and dragged her away from your son.

Barry tried to run towards Jason to get him out of there, that would lessen the situation but you already listened to reason, and when you felt his intentions you made sure he ran into a wall of your magic at the moment he ran out of his place, leaving a stain of blood on the wall of magic. Bruce yelled your name approaching the two, causing you to look at him with red eyes of magic and clenched teeth in fury. Jason had frozen in place looking at the now bloody face of who he thought was the gardener.

“Stop, please” he begged you, but your look made more than clear that fury had blinded you. You looked at him, eyes red and ready to continue fighting. They wanted to harm your children, they wanted to take them away.

“NO” you snapped, Tim moaning in pain behind you, still lying on the floor with at least a couple of splintered ribs. Your anger was emanating from you in waves, it was as if it could practically push Bruce back every time you speak. The world around him flickered. Black and white returned, as did the 1960s setting and clothing, but the situation remained the same. “You wanna take him out there” you spit out the syllables like poison and the magic keeps pulsing out of you around him. Everything changed again, now it was the sixties, all black and white, but this time your magic was dying, losing the illusion you had managed up to now, and contrasting with the television style of that period. “Y'all want that” you looked around you. Again everything flickered as Clark tried to stand in place, quickly being held to the ground by your magic and Barry wiping the blood from his nose with the sleeve of his colorful seventies suit, the color glistening against the yellow of his shirt. Diana hadn't gotten up yet, she was dizzy “Why would you want to do this, Bruce?” you spoke directly to him, fury turning to anguish, genuinely misunderstood in his actions “Why do you want them away? They're our children, they're safe here.”the betrayal hurt but the fury was still stronger. As Bruce felt this was the most honest conversation the two of them had had in a long time, which made him more sad than happy for the breakthrough, because he had let it get to this point. “Why don't you stay?”

Jason looked between his parents, as if it were a tennis match, he felt trapped in the middle of that discussion and the worst thing is that he didn't know why. There was no way or reason for his dad to want to take them outside. Where was she supposed to go if this was his home? There they were safe where you cared for them. Why did all these people want to put them in danger?. His anguish was reflected in you, you felt it in your bones as your own and Bruce realized that, directing his attention to him for a moment.

“Jason” he called out, causing the scared boy to stare at him with wide-eyed terror “It's all good, all right, just breathe” he asked, taking a step towards the boy. A mistake that was made clear when he was thrown backwards into the air. The world began to flicker anew, in a counting and confusing way, objects changing individually between decades in a chaotic and meaningless way. Bruce fell against one of the glass doors of the house that led to the patio, breaking the structure and cutting himself. The world stopped flickering, freezing everything to whatever decade it had been before that moment.

“Don't speak to him!!”you yelled at him as you walked towards him. Arthur Victor, seeing that neither Diana, nor Clark, nor Barry was able to react fast enough, stepped forward to face you. Hal checked Bruce who slowly got up from the glass mattress where he had fallen, while Oliver took Roy and Dick and put him further into the house where Alfred received them as upset by the situation as everything. Constantine and Zatanna were nowhere to be seen, no one really knew where you had sent them when you detected their magic when you went out into the yard to attack Tim. Jason ran to stand between you and Arthur and Victor, he didn't want any of them to get close to you, he didn't trust them anymore and before you could understand what was happening, you reacted.

“STOP!!” you cry out.

Tim didn't have enough time to process what happened next, too busy processing the pain in his ribs like Bruce had taught him, he heard your scream and then when he got up your magic had spread all over the yard, like a rope that stretched around you. For a second Tim didn't understand the gravity of the situation. It was a beautiful second, because for that second Tim held out hope that he wouldn't have to do what Bruce told him he would have to do at the end. When that moment ended, he realized that there would be no happy ending, maybe that option never existed.After all, you wouldn't have your son back and they were the ones you'd have to lose him to twice. So it was time to do what had to be done. He glanced at Jason, standing a few feet from him, and Jason looked back at him.

Dick watched the scene standing directly opposite Tim's. It was like he was awake for the first time all week, he knew things were getting out of hand. He, along with Tim, Bruce, Alfred and Jason were the ones the magic didn't touch when you screamed in utter stress and overwhelmed by the amount of things going on, the magic had spread like an aggressive current, wrapping himself around the necks of everyone present once before continuing on his way to the next person.It was while you covered your ears and squeezed your eyes shut without much thought, wanting to isolate yourself from the situation you were in. You were tired, you just wanted everything to stop for a moment, for everyone to shut up.

It was when the silence came that you realized your mistake.You looked up slowly, tears formed in your eyes, you saw how your magic surrounded the necks of those who were your friends. They had done bad things. They want to take your Jason away from you, but it wasn't because they were bad. They were your friends and they thought they were doing you good. They just didn't understand, but they were good, you still knew that and were sure of it. And you were hurting them.

“Mom” Dick's voice called you. you looked at him. The magic disappeared from everyone's necks, and then they disappeared from sight without even making a sound, as if they had never been there. In a sleeping limbo they were now, until you needed them or until it was all over.

“Dick” you said, tears falling freely, reaching your hands slowly towards him. Your son. Your little Dikie was there with you. You could barely move before he jumped into your arms. Neither of you was sure what would happen, you were scared, but you hugged him holding onto him, and he felt safe as you held him, because no matter the strange circumstances, you were there. His mom was there.

You saw how Bruce and Alfred were standing in the distance, next to the house, looking at the scene. The door he had landed against had been fixed, as if nothing had happened, neither were the marks on the floor from Clark's heat vision, or Diana's drag marks. Look at your husband, suddenly without a trace of glass on him and without any wound on his back. Everyone believed that he was a stoic man, that he could undergo the most horrible of tortures without blowing a whistle, not death or tragedy upset him. But as he stood there watching the scene, his eyes filled with tears as they had not in all the months since his son's death, as he came back suddenly to the moment he found his body, in the rubble, folded into a shape that was unnatural, with his eyes closed and his skin covered in bruises that would never heal.

During all these months without your youngest son, you and Bruce had drifted apart, not because you didn't love each other, but because you each got caught up in your own fantasy. You expected every morning that your son would return. All day, every day, you imagined how he would walk through the door and he would smile at you as only Jason knew how, he would ask you why you are crying and he would hug you. He would comfort you by saying that whoever it was that cruel person who had made his mother cry would deal with him, and he would say it with a tone so serious that it would make you laugh. He'll laugh with you. While Bruce clung to the idea that if he did his job well enough, if he took care of Tim, if he made sure to help Gotham p and at the same time make young Timothy live a full life, his son would finally visit him in dreams. It wouldn't be a nightmare, where he told her how much he hated him and that it was his fault he was dead. He would visit him to tell her that he had done well, that he had finished the job that both of them had started and that is why he was now at peace. But neither would ever happen.

Above the whisper of the wind, just for you to understand, Bruce had a thought, so pure and genuine that there was no way he wouldn't feel it too. I'm sorry, he whispered in his own mind, knowing that you would hear him. Me too, you replied with a sad smile over your eldest son's shoulder. War is over, Alfred thought, and felt he might as well cry. He would cry for the loss of his grandson, for the suffering of his son, he would cry for how no matter how much tea or sandwiches he had made you there they would all have ended up the same, in a fantasy where nothing bad had happened, accepting that it was time to return to home, even when the fantasy felt more like home now than the real world. It was time.

Tim led Jason back to the tree where they'd first met, the place where the burial was. When they got there she realized that Jason's appearance was again at odds with reality: he was fifteen years old, bright baby blue eyes, dimples in his cheeks, a red hoodie, and ripped jeans that hadn't been like that when you bought them, but they were his favorites.

“I have to go now” Tim told him, looking at him, and for a second he allowed himself to feel sad “But I need you to give something to your mom” he said pulling the backpack off his back and opening it, he looked Jason in the eye one last time before doing so. His eyes filled with tears and he allowed himself to think about what a life would be like with you as his mother, with Bruce as his father, with both showering him with love and attention the way Jason had enjoyed in life. He imagined what it would have been like if the boy before him was alive and was his older brother. He smiled sadly as he pulled the battered, torn, and still bloody Robin suit from his backpack, to offer it to Jason. Jason didn't look at him again, and Tim watched you approach in the distance, with the nerve of someone headed for his own death. Your eyes met his, and where Tim expected anger, disappointment, or sadness, he was met with a genuine tenderness that had never been directed at him. You made a silent gesture of thanks, stopping a few feet behind Jason. Tim felt relieved, you didn't hate him despite everything, he hoped that when it was all over it would continue like this. 

He had admired you from the first time he had seen you on television when he was five years old, fighting alongside the rest of the Justice League and had cried when it was announced that the Scarlet Witch had died to save the world. He felt happy for the first time in a long time and looked at Jason one last time before, wondering if the boy ever knew how lucky he was to have you in life and death as his mother (Jason knew). He allowed himself the hope that in some time line, he would have that honor too, he could also be your son and have your love in life and death (Tim already had your love, but he didn't know it yet). 

With that Tim Drake said goodbye to The Wayne´s Show for now and got lost in the woods, never to be seen by viewers anymore.

The suit in his hands was smooth, but there were burnt edges, which were rough against his soft hands that had never granted pain or labor. Jason moved slowly, staring at the garment, almost mesmerized, as if there were a piece of the puzzle in it, something intangible he couldn't quite figure out.

“Jay, baby” you called him, with a sweet but sad voice. Your son, your Jason, looked up from that cursed garment and looked at you “We need to talk-” Jay cut you off before you could say more and you almost thanked him for it, you wouldn't have known how to continue the conversation anyway.

“Mom” he said, dropping the garment in his hand to the floor, as if it meant nothing and then walking towards you, stepping on it as he passed without looking where it had fallen. That gesture made all the aversion you had towards that suit vanish, it didn't matter anymore “Mom-” his mouth opened a few times, it felt like the words were attacking his throat. Jason wanted to know, but he wasn't sure he wanted whatever it was he was going to do to get that answer. Noticing and giving him a reassuring smile, Jason released a heavy sigh that he didn't know had been saved and finally asked “Mom, what am I?”.

You walked toward him at a slow pace, admiring his features, the way his hair refused to be completely straight or curled, the way he stood almost level with you despite only being fifteen. You put your hands on his cheeks, feeling the softness of his skin under your hands once more, and looked into his eyes before answering.

“Jason Peter Todd. You, my dearest boy, are the piece of the Darkhold that lives in me. A body that believes based on what we live together, and what we don't too. You are my sadness and my hope. But most importantly, you're my love and you will always be” you explained. The information entered Jason's mind like a gentle ocean wave washing away tracks in the sand, but this time the wave filled empty space with information, and filled in all the illogicalities in his memory and also the memories that weren't there, the ones that he hadn't really lived. But the circumstances of his own existence hit him, out of the corner of his eye he could give up as if the world closed around him, but he wasn't scared.

“Do we have to say goodbye?” He asked you in the same way that he always asked if it was time to go to sleep, to then ask for five more minutes of light to read another chapter of his favorite book.

“Yes, son, we have to” you told him with regret, feel your tears fall down your cheeks again “But we'll say hello again someday” you put his face closer to yours, holding it gently in your hands “I swear” you promised him before looking at him for the last time, then you closed your eyes to kiss his forehead and so the inevitable arrived.

Unlike the other time, Jason didn't feel afraid or terrified at the idea of “dying”, because his mom had made him a promise and she always kept them. So he enjoyed the sensation of your smell flooding his nose, of your hands when his face with such care and delicacy, of your lips kissing your forehead, before his existence dissolved. His last thought was that, although he did not quite understand what his first life had been like, or understood the memories he had of it, he hoped that if he lived more lives you would continue to be his mother in each and every one of them.

Bruce found you, once the fog in his mind lifted and he realized there was no anomaly anymore, standing where Tim had left you. With your back to him, you held Jason's old Robin suit in your hands, you looked at it with a mixture of affection and sadness.Everything was over, but at the same time it was just beginning, just now you and your husband could properly process the joint loss of your son, as if right at that moment you both hit bottom in the deepest point of the ocean, meeting for the first time with the true cold and desolation of the situation. The fantasies of the miraculous return, of the dreams where they promise peace, of the sitcoms where at the end of the episode all the problems were solved no matter how serious they were, had ended. That would not happen. But now that reality no longer sinks you like quicksand, and as you and Bruce hold each other in front of Jason's grave that day was the first time you both felt so genuinely alive in a long time.

You were alive. Your family was alive. And that was something as beautiful as it was tragic, the purest magic in the world from your point of view.

Although the idea that life itself is magic is one that your husband has always discussed with you since the day you met. But that could be a story for another time.

[jasontoddsno1simp]

If Jason Todd is a cop, then so is every vigilante in Gotham

They are ALL taking the law into their own hands - in case you numb nuts forgot, vigilantism is illegal. The only difference is that Jason is up front about the fact that he kills people, sometimes.

Instead of hashing and rehashing this stupid moral debate for the 3928281th time - like DC wants us to because they refuse to deal with the way they let one of their writers kill off a kid and the subsequently retconned that child's story so they could keep selling Robin merch - we have some fun with it.

Why does Jason kill?! What experiences in his life led him down this path?! I read an excellent post earlier about how Jason has all these monologues about Big Moral Ideas^TM and how that juxtaposes his actions. And instead of digging into that, people just leave it at "Oh, so you're a hypocrite, eh?! Got standards for everyone else that you feel you shouldn't have to follow, huh?!" as if that's an indictment of his character. And I mean, it is!! But why?! Why would Jason hold the heroes to standards that he doesn't deign to hold himself to?!

Could it be that he's positioned himself as a necessary evil?! That he's subconscious absorbed Bruce's inflexible moral framework?! That, according to that framewok, he understands that heroes must conduct themselves in a specific manner, else their heroism be called into question?! That he feels he's been called into a different direction?! That Gotham - Park Row - doesn't need another cape to save them, but rather they need someone who will avenge them?!

Jason, at his best, is jaded, but pragmatic. He doesn't rly believe in the hero community anymore, but he understands the necessity. He understands that he cannot be Batman, because he doesn't possess the moral inflexibility of Bruce. He doesn't feel regret after killing someone, because in his mind, that's what needed to happen to keep his people safe. And that makes him a villain. Something he does a lot of work to do to make himself feel okay about (which I don't think he does, but that's for later).

A more cynical interpretation of Jason would be that he doesn't believe in redemption. That once someone strays off the straight and narrow, their life needs to end. And I mean, in some cases that might be true. Humans are capable of some truly heinous shit and once you unlock that part of your soul, there's no going back. That's what I think, anyway. But to someone like Bruce, someone who condemns all killing, he'd make no room for any such distinctions. Especially with Jason being unrepentant.

And this is where we get into the meat and gristle of Jason and Bruce's dynamic - for Jason to operate under his own moral framework, Bruce must compromise his own.

In other words, for Bruce to sleep tight at night, he must strip his son of his agency. And Jason, someone who has had his agency stripped of him many a time in his life, is not too keen on that.

To me, Jason's story is about agency - about how those of us who aren't born into privilege must fight for our agency at every turn. As a child, Jason was stripped of his agency by poverty and doomed to be another lost cause by a system that isn't designed to help. Meeting Bruce and becoming Robin was a turning point for young Jason's life because it allowed him to claw back the agency that was stolen from him. Or so he thought. Because the second he didn't behave the way Bruce expected him to (and lest I remind you all that Bruce had been subtly adultifying this young boy since the second he met him), there goes his agency. Bruce strips him of the Robin mantle, therefore stripping him of his agency.

And before the Good Dad Bruce truthers come after me, I know this wasn't Bruce's intention - he took Robin away because he saw the way Robin was negatively affecting his son. And, to get a little meta here, Bruce probably clocked that even if he was able to get Jason the help he needed to manage his trauma, he couldn't allow him to be Robin anymore. Because Robin is a hero, and - according to Bruce - a hero's convictions must be unshakeable, lest their heroism be called into question.

And what makes for unshakeable convictions?! An inflexible moral framework with hard lines that must never be crossed. And if they are crossed, then said hero must throw themselves upon the sword in repentance.

Something that Jason refused to do.

And... if I'm being honest with you, there's no way forward with Jason's story without him reacting caustically to Robin being taken away. No matter how gently Bruce broke the news to Jason or how empathic he was, Jason would have reacted like a cat that had been slapped and thrown out the window. Because it was more than Robin. It was always more than Robin.

I'm gonna cap my analysis here because this has gotten way too fucking long, but my point is that if you're gonna do any kind of analysis or criticism of a character, I need y'all to reach deeper. Because what's the fucking point of shallow ass takes like "Jason is a cop cause he kills"?! Huh?! Not only is it fundamentally misinterpreting the character and his motivations - cops are authoritarians, something Jason is diametrically opposed to - but it's a dead end. It's a conclusion with no thesis statement.