#jason probably forgot his time while dead

[xysidhequeen]

So sorta a prompt/sorta a brain worm that got stuck in my head.

What if.... When Jason died originally he came back as a ghost and he and Danny met. Jason helped him fight ghosts and taught him some tricks of the trade. He offhandedly told Danny that if he ever needed help to go to Gotham/Blüdhaven (depends if you want to spin Jason still feeling kind towards Bruce or him being more in Dick's corner). Jason vanishes when he's resurrected and Danny doesn't hear from him for years.

Well something happens. (Either everyone he loves dies, and he runs to the GZ or away to prevent himself from turning into Dark Danny, or his parents find out his secret and react Badly. Or maybe they react well but the GIW takes them out)

Danny runs to the only place he thinks can offer sanctuary, Gotham/Blüdhaven. Running off the words of a friend he hasn't seen in a long time.

He arrives and is probably exhausted, stumbling around when he feels a familiar energy. He follows it, only to nearly collapse at Jason's feet as Red Hood. (This is probably post Outlaws when Jason has a more peacefulish relationship with the Bats) and looks up.

"Jason?"

"Danny?!"

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny gets kidnapped by the joker. He's missing for an hour and a half at most but when the bats find him, he's sitting unbound in a chair looking at the jokers corpse. Danny's face has a soft smile and when asked what happened Danny just says 'justice'

Later they find video of Danny while tied up reading the jokers mind for absolute filth leaving him cry and broken on the floor, and the the camera glitches out and cute for a few minutes then comes back on to the joker dead and Danny free.

Danny wants it to be known that he hadn't gone looking for trouble, no matter what Tim Drake says. He only meant to go to the mall and do regular teenage things with the ward of cash Bruce had handed him.

He hadn't been lying when he said the mall back home was small, and after a lap, it got really dull. It was more entertaining to go to Nasty Burger than to linger around the few shops selling the same thing.

Alfred had let it slip the last time he came around for Danny's clothes- the old man had thrown a fit when Danny attempted to do his own laundry, and then Danny threw a fit claiming he had to do some of the chores or he wouldn't live there, and they came to an agreement to do 50/50 of responsibilities- that the mall was one of Bruce's favorite places to be as a teenager.

He didn't fully outsay it, but Danny could tell Alfred was getting tired of him not venturing out. Alfred also seemed bothered by Danny's lack of motivation for anything- and probably feared that he was slowly falling into depression for being stuck here.

Granted, Danny did not allow them to see him do anything besides sleep, eat, and laze about- with a shower every night- he could see where his concern was coming from. Danny was most active at night when he left a duplicate- he could not make it move or speak since it was a new power, so it placed it in his bed to appear asleep- and rushed away for a few hours to work on his ship.

So Alfred not so casually told him of Gotham Mall, with its five floors containing five hundred and twenty stores. The Mall at Amity Park only has seventy-one stores.

Danny was dying to see it just to see a mall that big.

Then the Butler made the deal sweeter by suggesting Danny do his outing alone, without his Wayne bodyguards, and convinced Bruce to give him some pocket money.

Nine hundred! Bruce's idea of pocket money is nine hundred, which means Danny could have an excellent time shopping. So Danny took a shower, threw on a nice pair of jeans that hugged all the right places- according to Steph- a black T-shirt, and scurried down the stairs.

At the door, Bruce talks in low voices with his sons- Damian and Jason- but all three turned to him once he appeared.

Damian's regular haughty expression evaporated once he caught sight of Danny's shirt. His jaw slacked in surprise as he breathed, "What are you wearing?"

"Oh, this? Alfred had it printed on a shirt for me." Danny gestures to the notable constellations floating in space's blue, green, and purple gasses.

Orion was the center of the work, being the only one with a figure shaped into a human with the stars that made him visible inside his body. The other constellations floating around him remained bright spots with no lines.

"I drew you that," Damian tells him as though Danny forgot where the image he passed along to Alfred had come from.

"Yeah, and I put it on a shirt 'cause it's awesome. I love it from the moment I saw it." Danny shrugs, watching with an amused grin as Damian's face flushes bright red.

The younger boy looks down at his feet, but not before Danny can spot the pure, unadulterated glee his words have caused in the kid.

"You have some taste, it seems." Damian mutters. Jason and Bruce are beaming, their eyes sparkling in a way that would belie their relationship is through adoption instead of blood.

"Most parents put their kid's drawings on the fridge instead of wearing them," Jason teases, and Danny shrugs.

"Most parents have talentless kids." He barely bites back the rest of his words. Damian isn't my kid because I am not Bruce, and he hurries to the doorway. "Anyway, I'm heading out. I'll be back by eleven,"

"You'll be back by nine." Bruce corrects, taking on the tone of a scolding parent. Danny is violently reminded of his own dad when Jazz is dating Johnny. He misses him. "Gotham is dangerous after dark. Alfred got us all to let you go alone, but that doesn't mean you can be reckless."

"Please, what's the worst that can happen?" Danny asked, practically skipping the stairs to the Uber Alfred called for him.

The worst that could have happened was that a stupid clown, calling himself Joker, had attacked the mall while Danny was browsing a gothic store.

He had been comparing two black dresses, trying to figure out which one Sam would prefer- and no, he was not blushing or feeling giggly thinking of her reaction. Just like he hadn't done the same when he picked up a personal electric planner for Tuck two floors down- when the Joker's goons had literally yanked him out of the store.

He only had a few minutes to blink in the bright light, as "Hot Topic" had been low light sightings for the store's ambiance, before he was thrown at the feet of a cackling man in purple.

His hands had been tied behind his back as they moved him, and Danny could only applause their quick hands. It's impressive for them to get it done with how much he thrashed.

Danny's first thought of the purple suit man was, "That's a ghost if I ever darn seen one," only to realize that his ghost sense had not gone off. The man just looked like that. How unfortunate.

"Well, well, if it isn't Brucie's newest charity case!" Joker shouted, yanking Danny's face up from his chin and leaning close to his face.

"Dude, personal space." He says, scrunching up his nose as the Joker's breath hits his nostrils. "Also, invest in some dental insurance."

"Oh, we have ourselves a jokester here, folks!" The clown's laugh did not hide the anger or shy away from madness. Danny suddenly felt he may have to tap into Phantom to get away from him.

This was a being that hurt others just because he could. Joker very existence was to simply harm others.

The very opposite of Phantom.

All of his instincts were screaming as Joker put his arm around Danny's shoulder and told the watching horrified crowd. "I'm a bit of a jokester myself. Why don't I give you private lessons and let these people judge whose death is funnier? Little Danny Kane or Bernad Dowd?"

The crowd parted, most gasping in horror as another teenage boy was dragged to the front. He was covered in wounds, bleeding a slow, sluggish mess, and his head bobbed as if though he was about to faint.

Danny's pupils shrunk, and his core raged as the boy was backhanded in front of him. Joker- the soon-to-be dead man- spread his arms, shouting for the whole world to be heard. "This is a special performance for Timothy Drake-Wayne. I hope you enjoy watching your boyfriend and adoptive brother partake in my game as a thank-you for your generous donation to the families of the last people I made laugh! I want everyone to know that any more donations to such families will have a similar show for their own loved ones!"

Danny's mind went white with a loud ringing, and somewhere far away, he was aware that Joker had them moved to a room to play his game.

He barely registered the camera being set up or tied to a chair surrounded by tortuous-looking items. He didn't even notice poor Bernard- already lost consciousness- tied to the chair beside him.

He only had eyes for the laughing man in purple.

But it was not Danny watching him, it was Phantom.

And Phantom was fresh out of mercy.

"No need for such an ugly frown," Joker chuckles, unaware of the ghost's core vibrating with the need to Protect what it recognizes a an attack on the Waynes.

An attack on his people.

"Let's turn that frown upside down!" Joker says, and- those are his last words.

Phantom pounces.

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

It takes an hour and a half for them to be found. It might have been more, but Danny had only counted for that amount. Bernad had been stabilized after he performed some emergency field first aid on him, trying his best to not look at the smear of bones and guts that used to be Joker.

Bruce breaks down the door with Tim rushing to his boyfriend in a frantic cry for his lover's name.

Danny steps back to let him have better access. He follows beside Bruce, watching Tim hold Bernad to his chest, breathing him in. He'll be fine. A few bruises and broken bones, but Bernad will leave.

"What happened?" Batman demands.

Danny looks up to stare at him right in the eyes despite the mask blocking his pupils. "Justice."

Bruce doesn't say anything in response, but the silence- for the first time since he found Danny in that cave- is heavy and weary.

Danny needs to hurry with his repairs. He thinks he is about to wear out his welcome at Wayne Manor. It's a pity he was just starting to like it there.

Master post link

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) ch3

“So, what’s your deal?” Jason asked, when Danny’s mouth was full of food. “You’re dead, I notice.”

Danny choked. He gave Jason a betrayed look with big blue eyes, a hand clapped over his mouth to contain any mess.

Jason smirked back, unrepentant. “I died once,” he shared. “Got better though.”

“You got be-”

“You were surprised about what it’s like to fight humans,” Jason continued. It was hard not to laugh at the confused outrage on his date’s face. “So that implies you fight someone else? You’re fighting ghosts or something? Or do ghosts have some kinda natural enemy? Vampires or some shit?” He might have been a bit flippant but sue him, it sounded a lot more magical than his daily life.

Danny opened his mouth and no words came out. He looked like he was in pain when he grudgingly admitted, “I do have a lot of beef with this one vampire guy, Vlad.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. That was such a vampire guy name, what the hell?

“No, no, it’s not funny,” Danny protested. He waved his hands wildly, flinging a bit of bean from his burrito across the roof they were perched on. “He’s also a ghost- well, he’s a half of a ghost, but that’s a long story from when he was in college.”

“The half-ghost vampire has an undergraduate degree?” Jason interrupted. He needed to know what this fucker studied. Was it like, social science? Literature? Theater? That might explain Danny’s implied belief that a theme was an inherent rogue thing. No, wait, business administration?

Danny gave him a withering look. “He’s got a Doctorate.”

Jason flung his hands up in defeat against the world. That made more sense than an undergraduate degree somehow. There was just something about the type of person who got a Doctorate that made them, you know, creeps.

‘Or maybe they’ve just got enough specialized knowledge to act on latent creepiness,’ he mused. ‘...Shit, am I developing an anti education stance? Can I blame this on Crane and Quinn?’

Danny was continuing with his explanation of the vampire’s background. Every word made it nuttier. “He’s a scientist, actually, and the mayor of a small town. And he lives in a cheese mansion.”

This was a sharp divergence from vampire stereotypes and he needed to know everything.

“Is the mansion made of cheese?” Jason interrupted. He was leaning in, intent on every word. Why was this vampire the most interesting man in the world?

He got a weird look for that. “No, it just belonged to the Dairy King,” Danny said, like it was everyday knowledge that you could expect a layperson to have.

“Of course, the Dairy King,” Jason said wisely.

"Enough about me though!" Danny flailed a bit. "How did you get my uh, number?"

Ah. Jason took a big bite to delay while he chose his words.

There was no point in trying to hide his vigilante identity from Danny. The guy probably didn't even understand the concept.

So he might as well top whatever story Danny had.

"The bat guy who taught me all about being a child soldier got grabbed by this group of loser cultists, right?" He gestured in a way that did absolutely nothing to illustrate the situation.

Danny cocked his head. "This is off to a good start."

"They tried to sacrifice him. You gotta remember him - big ugly guy, dressed in black and gray, underwear on the outside of his pants in a way that's never been cool?"

Danny didn't seem to have words, but he lifted his hands to make two ears on top of his head.

He pointed with both hands. "That's the guy," Jason agreed. "At the time, we didn't know what kind of sacrifice it was. We were thinking more along the lines of blood sacrifice?" He shrugged as if the idea of B biting it meant nothing to him.

Danny made a pffft sound of air escaping between his lips. "I tossed him back." He flailed in place. "I- isn't- wasn't that- that was a while ago," he stuttered. "I kinda forgot about him."

"...You got offered a cape, then a few weeks later a bunch of others, and you didn't make a mental connection?" Jason checked.

Danny flushed. "Time doesn't match up between the realms and anyway, I'm really busy!" He crossed his arms and accidentally knocked over his drink. "I've got a lot going on in my life. Anyway, for a ghost?" Danny blew a raspberry. "I'm sorry to break your heart, but none of you dress wild enough to stand out in the Infinite Realms. We've got robot dudes and child pirates and giant eyeballs and stuff." He gave Jason a smug look. It was cute.

Jason acted on impulse and reached out to ruffle Danny's hair. He realized what he was doing too late. His hand froze above Danny's head.

Danny tilted his face up and made an inquisitive sound.

"There was a bug." Jason pulled his hand back. What was wrong with him? He didn't go touching other people just because they were cute. "It flew off."

"...Right," Danny said. "You're being very normal." He seemed delighted by this, the little gremlin. "So. You were a child soldier too?"

Jason nearly fell off his perch.

Danny shrieked a laugh and pointed. "Ha!" He crowed. "I win! I shocked you first!"

"There wasn't a competition!" Jason lied. His face was bright red. It was too late to save face. "What do you mean too?" He demanded. "Were you a child?"

"Somewhat recently," Danny said. He gave Jason a catlike smile. "Adults come from teenagers, teenagers come from kids, kids come from babies. Do you need to know-"

"I know where babies come from." Jason cut him off. He tried to look off put at the way Danny laughed at him but fuck it, it was funny, in a dumb way. "Of course you were a kid, that was silly of me," he admitted. "Ghosts are made from humans, right?"

"Well yes, but actually no," Danny said, philosophical. "Some of us. I was. Other ghosts are made from like, vultures, or ideas."

It kinda seemed like ghost taxonomy was more complicated than he was ready to get into at the moment. Those two things were pretty fuckin disparate.

Jason sighed heavily and picked up his food again, just to have something to do with his hands.

A thought occurred. He didn't let it show on his face but he felt sick to his stomach.

Danny was dead. Danny said he'd been a child recently, and a child soldier.

Someone needed their ass kicked.

Danny: we are having such a whimsical time!

Jason: sirens screaming

[nelkcats]

Death Spy

Danny spent way too much time watching spy movies, that's a fact. And probably the main reason why he dubbed himself "the spy for the dead", even though he wasn't actually doing spy work at all.

The ghosts of the Infinite Realms are eternal, but some of them are still young (in the sense that not much time has happened since their death) and miss their families. Clearly they can't visit without alerting anyone, so they go to the one ghost that usually swings between the realm of the living and the dead.

So, Danny started doing favors, watching lives, giving some gifts, sometimes even talking to his "targets", depending on what the ghost wanted. Even if the ghost wasn't from the same planet.

Danny had snuck into the Watchtower so many times to check on Bruce, Barry, Clark, and others that he'd lost count. He wondered if it would be easier to announce his presence but they probably wouldn't appreciate it.

On one of those occasions two ghosts asked him to check "Jason Todd" (his grandmother had many questions and his mother was not far behind); the halfa had been so distracted while exploring Red Hood warehouse that he forgot to activate his invisibility and before realizing, Danny was in the middle of a gang fight and everyone was pointing their guns at him, which felt strangely like home.

He smiled and sheepishly waved at the Crime Lord, which didn't know whether to shoot him or get him out of harm's way. Jason had noticed that the boy was hanging around, but he didn't think he would be suicidal. He sighed with resignation, if the boy survived he would probably have to interrogate him, or worse, protect him from the rival gang.

[starry-bi-sky]

more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)

Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.

It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.

(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)

-

In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.

(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)

Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.

He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.

Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.

(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)

Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.

(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)

(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)

(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)

-

Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.

(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)

Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.

Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)

-

Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.

I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.

(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)

In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.

And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.

[butcherlarry]

Hellooo i was wondering if, when you've got time, have any amazing Bruce&Jason centric fic to rec? If it has background of superbat it would be pretty perfect too ngl. I've read some by looking for myself but the probabilities of having missed some is very high! Whatevee your answer is going to be, thank you★ and thank you for all the other res u post!!

Howdy!

Some Bruce & Jason fic recs hmmm? Lemme see what I can dig up :)

homewrecker by pomeloquat - I am a huge sucker for comedy, and this one is HILARIOUS. An omegaverse AU where Jason starts a rumor that Batman is the deadbeat dad that left his mom, Matches Malone. I about DIED laughing while reading this.

Flatline by dragonpyre - Jason is mistaken as dead and the whole family Does Not Have A Good Time. Do not worry, there is a happy ending.

Stand Up for Yourself by UnicornVomit - Good Dad Bruce believing Jason when he says he's being bullied at school and goes Protective Mode™.

Toes in the Sand by minnow_doodle_doo - Old man Bruce with Jason and his kids (Bruce's grand kids). Many, many feels.

The Price of Blame by AlexaAffect - Another humorous fic. Jason starts charging the rest of the batkids money to blame their accidents on him. Shenanigans ensue.

Sealing the deal by orphan_account - Bruce Wayne is rescued by a seal, who happens to be Jason, who is a selkie :)

Good Morning, Sweetheart by InkpotSprite - Bruce has done the Unforgivable, he forgot to send Jason a heart emoji at the end of his good morning text. Bruce must pay for his crimes.

A Bird in Morning by audreycritter - This fic is a wip, but it's well worth the read (I also don't believe in waiting until the fic is finished to read the whole thing)! Jason digs himself out of the grave and is found and taken to the hospital. Bruce is called in when they discover who this lost child is.

The Grave Answered by LananiA3O - After Jason died, Bruce goes to Jason's grave to mourn and talk to his dead son. Jason decides to answer back.

a sky of honey by TheResurrectionist - Another omegaverse! You might want to read the first fic in the series, a coral room, to get a better understanding of the universe. More Bruce and Jason centric as the fic goes on.

Inbox by audreycritter - Jason listens to his phone inbox after he returns from the dead.

Homecoming by Sparkypants - A 5+1 fic of Jason coming home. Angst, but with a happy ending!

ashes to ashes, dust to dust by hoebiwan - Platonic soulmates AU! Bruce's soulmark for Jason starts to come back, so he goes to the graveyard to investigate.

Author's Note by Trekkele - Bruce discovers Jason is alive through the power of fanfic.

Emotional Motion Sickness series by Batbirdies - Bruce goes to therapy. This entire series is FANTASTIC. The third fic in the series is more Jason oriented.

After you get done reading these dear anon, try the Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne tag in my bookmarks. All of the above fics, and many more (looks like 127 bookmarks total so far) are here.

Happy reading!

[weaver-z]

Ranking famous slashers (based on how likely they are to be cool with trans people)

(Disclaimer: this is a very silly ironic post for pride month).

Chucky (Child's Play)

In what can only be described as an "absolute hum-dinger" of an opening entry, we have Chucky, the only slasher who has (and explicitly supports) a transgender child. Sure. You know what? Good for him.

2. Ash Williams (The Evil Dead franchise)

"Uhh this guy isn't a slasher!" He has a chainsaw for a hand. He's killed 65+ deadites over the course of four movies and a goofy tv show with said grisly chainsaw hand. I will die on the hill that Ash is a good-aligned slasher. Anyway, Ash would also be happy to learn that trans women being more widely-accepted means there are More Women. He wouldn't even have to have being trans explained to him, he'd get it. He's dealt with so much weird shit, someone wanting to transition is nothing. Hail to the king, baby.

3. Herbert West (Re-Animator)

Herbert West looks so much like one of my trans guy friends in real life that I'm just going to decide that he's trans. My guy was synthesizing HRT in his wacky little lab long before he was filling vials with glowing green goo to raise the dead. He's still ranked lower than Ash, though, because he's kind of cringe in general. Sorry, Herbie baby

4. Bubba Sawyer (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

Bubba definitely doesn't care about anyone's gender. He's killing them with chainsaws. That being said, the exceptions to this would occur within his own family. If one of Bubba's brothers came out as trans and you decided to be transphobic, Bubba would definitely cut you into even grislier, gorier little pieces than usual, because he's a bro like that.

5. Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th)

Jason is a conceptually hilarious character at this point, and between all of the deaths and resurrections and visits to Hell and more deaths and resurrections, he's probably had time enough to come to terms with trans people. He just wants to kill everyone at Crystal Lake, for god's sakes. Let him be. (Also, he fought a transphobe--I will explain this remark later in this post.)

6. Daniel Robitaille (Candyman)

Daniel's been dead for quite a while, so that might be a minor roadblock to his understanding of trans people. That being said, he seemed to navigate the modern world pretty deftly in the original Candyman. You might have to explain transitioning to him a bit, but he'd get the concept pretty quickly. He might still kill you with his hook, though. Sorry.

7. Carrie White (Carrie)

Carrie is in a complicated place, because yes, she was raised in a very sheltered, evangelical environment, but we must consider that she is a girlboss and a girlbeast. My verdict? After an initial period of "not getting it," Carrie would throw herself whole hog into being a trans ally. If you are trans, Carrie will be there to light transphobic people on fire. This is not an offer, it is a statement of intent. Be ready for her arrival.

8. Michael Myers (Halloween)

I think that Michael forgot what gender is a while back.

9. Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs + other movies)

Uuugh... see, I think that Hannibal would absolutely use the right pronouns and name for a trans person, but he'd definitely ask those really annoying "tell me, Will" style questions about your gender over a plate of definitely-not-human liver and fava beans. "Do you feel as though you are step in step with God Himself when you take your estrogen pills, as though your are joining in the act of divine creation?" No, Hannibal, she is just transitioning. Please chill.

11. Billy Lenz (Black Christmas)

Diversity win and loss: Billy Lenz is the world's first trans-inclusive radical misogynist! :/

12. Billy Loomis and Stu Macher (Scream)

Ghostface fans, I am so sorry, but these are two misogynistic teenage boys from the 90's. I do not have high hopes for them.

13. Freddy Krueger (Nightmare on Elm Street)

This guy is the transphobe Jason fought. Booooo. Tomatoes. I'm throwing tomatoes!

[writing-ca-ira]

HASARDER — PART 1

YJ/Teen Titans Dick Grayson x Reader

Prologue << MASTERLIST >> Part 2

Dick Grayson is no stranger to death, but that doesn’t make it any harder to deal with. As it turns out, however, the grieving process for you would prove to take an interesting twist when Tim calls him with some shocking news.

The reader is gender neutral.

Contains: civilian reader, mentions of death (your death), mentions of a dead body (your dead body), spoilers: you’re actually alive… kinda, I’m probably forgetting something.

“Does the hurt ever go away?”

“I wish I could say yes… but it will get better over time. For you. That, I can promise.”

Dick felt his grip on the picture frame get weaker and weaker. Had he not snapped out of his thoughts a moment sooner, it would’ve slipped out of his hands and clattered on the floor, shattering the glass in the process. The mere thought of that happening caused his stomach to churn, guilt eating away at his heart despite managing to avoid that outcome. To ensure the safety of the picture frame (well, more importantly, the photo within it), he gingerly placed it back in its rightful place on top of his nightstand, right next to his old digital alarm clock and bedside lamp.

You keep thinking..."If only I'd done something differently,” Bruce’s voice echoed in his head. “If only I could've...warned them." But there isn't anything you could've done. There isn't anything either of us could've done.

That conversation happened years ago; over a decade by now. Back when Dick was still processing the death of his parents, and when Bruce was there to help him through it. Despite the consolation those words provided in the moment, he never expected them to carry such weight throughout his life.

There isn’t anything you could’ve done.

His eyes drifted back to the picture frame. The photo within it was taken 4 years ago, during his sophomore year of high school at Gotham High. He still remembers the crisp autumn air against his skin, the red and orange leaves scattered on the ground, and the chocolate flavored milkshake he was halfway through. There was a giant smile on his face, his blue eyes sparkling with such joy and vibrancy.

It’s because you were right next to him.

The photo caught you mid-laugh, your eyes crinkling with happiness. You had haphazardly thrown up a peace sign with one hand while holding your own drink in the other. Though you were too busy laughing to notice, Dick had snaked his arm behind your head to give you bunny ears, which caused you to playfully throw leaves at him when you found out afterwards.

Thinking about that day still causes a fond smile to tug at his lips. Wally had to bail on their plans that day due to a date he forgot about with Artemis, so Dick found himself in the Cave to hand out with you instead. That’s how you two ended up walking around Happy Harbor — your idea, if he recalls correctly — exploring random shops and goofing around outside.

Had that really been 4 years ago?

Whatever warmness that flooded his chest while reminiscing on the past was immediately extinguished by the coldness of reality. It’s been 2 years without you now. The anniversary of your death was a week and a half ago, which was when he found himself so filled with grief that he could barely even get out of bed. It took all of the senior members of the team to rouse him out of his depressive episode; much like the year before.

You were gone. He still wasn’t used to saying that. Even with the time that’s passed since you died, he can feel his heart drop whenever he thinks about it, as though he’s learning about your death for the first time. The tears still wouldn’t stop, and neither would the nights filled with feverish dreams of your face.

If only I could’ve done something differently.

Of course, Bruce was right all those years ago; there wasn’t anything he could’ve done. Much like with his parents, Jason, and now the recently deceased Tula (all whom he still has nightmares of to this day), there was logically nothing he could’ve done to save you. He was all the way in Santa Prisca leading a covert mission when he received a distress call from your phone in Happy Harbor. All he could do was make sure someone was en route to your coordinates — which led to the Happy Harbor boardwalk — and pray you were safe.

But by the time Aquagirl and Tempest got there, it was too late.

Learning about what happened to you was hard for Dick. The ringing in his ears blocked out every sound except for his own shaky breaths, and he could barely even stand without feeling dizzy. But he managed to fight through his state of shock and despair to listen to the report. You were caught in a domestic dispute gone deadly at the Happy Harbor health clinic. A man stormed into the clinic to take back his kid from his ex-wife, who was there for a check-up. Things escalated, and the man shot and killed his wife, threatening the doctor in the room if she didn’t let his son go with him.

You happened to be in the next room over. Hearing the gunshot must’ve made you spring into action, making a 911 call along with the distress call to the team. The doctor that was with the son said that you snuck up behind the man and lunged at him, yelling at her and the kid to run. There was signs of a struggle in the room, but you unfortunately weren’t the one to walk out of there alive.

The man was neutralized by police around 3 to 4 minutes after your estimated time of death. If you hadn’t had your scuffle with him, it’s possible that he could’ve grabbed his son and escaped before the cops arrived. Your face was on the news after that, journalists proclaiming you to be a hero that sacrificed their life.

Except you should’ve never had to in the first place.

It’s not fair, Dick decided. Why did you, the one who wasn’t supposed to be risking their life, have to die because of some other people’s marital problems?! You weren’t even a hero; you were just a normal civilian going about your daily life. So why did you have to die like this?!

Even thinking about it caused his eyes to sting from frustrated tears, his jaw tightening as his fists clenched at his sides. If that guy wasn’t shot down by the cops, lord only knows what Dick would’ve done to him. The fact that he couldn’t even see justice for your death — your murder — get delivered also feeds into his anger. God, why couldn’t he just be there to at least get justice for you himself?!

Justice and revenge aren’t the same thing.

God, he hated it when Bruce was right.

There was nothing he could’ve done. There was nothing anyone could’ve done. Everything happened to fast; from the man barging into the clinic, to the shouting between him and his ex-wife, to the gunshot, to you calling 911 and sneaking up on the man, to the struggle that happened for a solid minute or so, to the gunshot that ultimately ended your life. All of that happened in under 10 minutes, according to the timeline, and that just wasn’t enough time for someone to come help you.

“There isn’t anything you could’ve done,” he had to solemnly tell Tula and Garth, who were both blaming themselves for not being there. Tula Zeta’d in from Atlantis, while Garth had to go on foot from Mount Justice. They were the only ones who weren’t on a mission at the time; the only ones who could respond to your distress call. But no matter how fast they moved, they just couldn’t be there in time.

A buzzing noise snapped him out of his thoughts. It caused enough surprise to him that his shoulders jolted upwards, his heart completely skipping a beat. He soon realized that it was his phone buzzing. Someone was calling him.

Shakily reaching for his phone (which was unceremoniously tossed onto his bed), he held it closer to his face to read the caller ID. Ah, Tim. It was a bit unusual for his successor to give him a call (he was a bit too socially awkward for that), but anytime he did, it would make Dick feel special. In fact, maybe a conversation with Tim would help clear his head a bit.

He cleared his throat as a small test for his voice, then hit accept and held the phone up to his ear. “Hey, Tim. What’s up?”

“Dick—! I… it’s—” Panic was evident in Tim’s voice. Hearing his shaky words on the other end caused Dick’s brows to furrow. At first, he thought that there was something going on with Batman and Robin, but he remembered that it was Tim who called Dick, and not Robin who called Nightwing. So, did that mean something happened at the Manor?

“Tim,” Dick softly began, though with slight urgency in his tone, “is everything okay?”

“They’re… I’m— I don’t…” an uneven puff of air could be heard before the teen tried again. “I’m really sorry, Dick, I didn’t mean to poke around!! It’s just that Ba— Br— B had been spending so much time away from the Manor and the Cave, and I wanted to know what he was doing, a-and I used the Bat Computer and found the file about everything, and— a-and…!!”

Dick had to raise his voice a bit to interject. “Tim!! Tim, calm down… what are you talking about? What’s wrong?”

For a moment, all Dick got was a shuddery breath as a reply. Before he could repeat his question, however, Tim finally responded. “Don’t… don’t get your hopes up, alright? Promise me you won’t get your hopes up.”

“… Okay,” Dick decided after a moment of hesitation. “I won’t.”

There was a long pause. Anticipation and apprehension was building up in Dick’s chest, his heart thumping against his rib cage. It seemed as though Tim was trying to carefully choose his words; trying to find the best way possible to break whatever news he had.

But nothing in the world could prepare Dick for the next few words that came out of Tim’s mouth. “There’s another (Y/N).”

Everything in Dick’s body stopped working.

From his heart to his mind, his hearing to his vision, Dick felt as though he was shutting down. He almost let the phone slip out of his hands entirely, the blood in his veins feeling cold as ice and causing his limbs to tremble. Even trying to get air in his lungs was a tough task, despite his mouth hanging open. The room was spinning for him, and the ringing in his ears almost blocked out Tim’s panicked ramblings entirely.

There’s another (Y/N).

What…

What did he mean by that?

“I-I know how close they are to you, Dick,” Tim practically wailed. “I know how close they are to the team… I didn’t know that Bruce was hiding this from you— I-I-I don’t even know if I should’ve told you… oh, god, Dick… is Bruce going to fire me—?”

Dick swallowed thickly, hoping to get rid of the lump in his throat. Despite his tongue feeling like sand, he spoke up anyway. “What do you mean by another (Y/N)?”

Tim sputtered out something completely incomprehensible to Dick. It was hard to tell if the poor kid was scared of what he knows, scared of Bruce finding out, or scared of both. Either way, Dick knew that he wasn’t going to learn anything from Tim in this state. He bit the inside of his cheek before dawning the most imperative voice he can muster in the moment.

“Tim,” he lowly chided. “Give me a report.”

That got Tim to his frantic rambling of nonsense. Getting him to think of this like a mission debriefing would calm him down, Dick figured. And, from the deep breaths the former Robin could hear on the other end, he knew he was right.

“Someone was taken in by the police a week ago,” Tim started, his cracking voice taking a factual tone. “Said their name was (Y/N) (L/N). Cops ran that name through their database and found (Y/N)’s death certificate. This (Y/N) was confused, ‘n started saying weird stuff about… something called the Titans.”

“Titans,” Dick echoed. It was meant to be a question, but came out more as a statement.

Tim hummed. “Titans. A… supposed team of young superheroes, o-or something. I don’t know, the report didn’t really…” he trailed off, possibly realizing he was rambling again. “Tests were ran. Their DNA is an exact match to the real (Y/N)— but when they… they checked (Y/N)’s grave a-a couple of days ago…”

The thought of someone digging up your grave made him clench his teeth together. They went through with something like that and he didn’t even know? Who gave them permission?!

Probably Batman, he bitterly thought.

“They’re still there, Dick,” said Tim. “(Y/N)’s body is still there. But this other (Y/N) is an exact copy..!!”

Dick’s freehand was digging into the flesh of his other arm. “Cadmus?”

“Isn’t involved.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“No biological trace of Cadmus’ synthetic enhancements in this (Y/N)’s bloodstream. No psychic trace of Genomorphs in their mind, either. This (Y/N)…” Tim struggled with his words for a moment, “is natural. Genuine.”

Genuine. Dick couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was another version of you walking this earth, supposedly confused about your own death, and Batman was planning to hide this from him? No, even worse, Bruce was planning to his this from him?!

No biological trace… no psychic trace…

All of these people to run tests, and yet he still didn’t know?

“Send me the file,” he monotonously demanded.

There was a small pause on the other end before Tim’s fragile voice spoke up. “What… are you going to do?”

“… I don’t know,” Dick answered, a tired sigh escaping his lips. It was an honest answer; what was he supposed to do after learning this? There was a (Y/N) alive out there, but not his (Y/N)…

“Are…” Tim trailed off, then tried again, “are you mad at me?”

“No—!!” Dick’s answer was quick. When he heard the sharp intake of breath on the other line, he realized that he might’ve spooked the poor boy, so he took on a softer tone. “No, Tim. It was good that you… brought this to my attention. Why would I be mad at you?”

“Bruce is going to be mad,” Tim practically whispered. “I shouldn’t of gone through his stuff… and… he would’ve wanted me to keep this all from you…”

Dick took a few moments to think of his response. “Well, you made the right choice telling me. He shouldn’t be keeping secrets like this in the first place.” Definitely not secrets that revolve around you…

“… ‘M sending the file now.” Distant clicking noises could be heard through the call, and then Tim followed up with, “I’m… sorry that Bruce didn’t let you know.”

“It’s not your fault, Tim,” was Dick’s soft reply. “He’s always been like that. Thinking it would protect us, or something.”

Protect us. The words were like acid on Dick’s tongue. Using secrets as protection always made Dick feel sick to his stomach. Looking at the past couple of years, Bruce’s secrets have done anything but protect others. They drove Dick away from him, they put Jason six feet under, and now…

God, why wasn’t Dick the first person to know about this other (Y/N)?

Maybe it was selfish of him to think that. He wasn’t your only friend, so the rest of the Team had just as much as a right to know as he did. But he still should’ve known. He should’ve been involved with the investigation; he knows you better than anyone. And Bruce knows this.

“You… gonna be okay?”

Tim’s voice pulled him back to reality. With a weak cough, Dick wet his lips and said, “yeah. I’ll be alright. Just gonna read over the file for myself and… figure out what to do from there.” An awkward pause, then he continued. “Thank you for this, Tim. Call me if anything else comes up.”

“Yeah… yeah, of course. I-I will.”

And, with that, the call ended.

His hand dropped to his side, the phone in his hand almost slipping from his grip. This couldn’t be real. None of this could be real. You were dead, yet… you were back. Someone with your face was out there talking about some other team… the Titans, and he was just now finding out about this.

After a week, he bitterly recalled.

Taking a final glance at the picture frame, his eyes scanned over your face. This new supposed (Y/N) wasn’t you. It couldn’t be you. The memory of your dull, lifeless face at the morgue still haunts him to this day, causing a chill to run up his spine and his hair to stand on end. Dick knows what death looks like, and you were, without a doubt, dead.

So, who was masquerading as his dead friend?

The answer seemed to be simple; you were masquerading as his dead friend. But… not you. Even if your DNA was an exact match, and Cadmus didn’t have any involvement, whoever you were, you weren’t his (Y/N). He’d like to believe that his (Y/N) would demand to see him, to assure him that you were still alive. You wouldn’t have let him go an entire week without knowing, leaving him to mourn someone that was still alive. As far as he concerned, this new (Y/N) was a stranger.

But, that just led him back to square one; who was this stranger?

Guess I’m about to find out.

[mygwenchan]

Just some random Playboyy thoughts after rewatching ep8:

The folder in which Nuth saved Nant's casting and suicide clip was named "Research". Judging by other folders and stuff on his desktop, it's all related to the movie Nuth is planning to film. In the first clip, Nant also recited parts of the script. Maybe both Nant clips are part of the movie? I'd love to get my hands on that script tbh... And also on the diary entry Nuth wrote on the twins bday. I bet there is a lot of useful information to be found!

They said Nant filmed the suicide video in a hotel room, but it's literally the same building in which Soong used to live... I think it's a production error, but it still bothers me a little.

So we were all wondering why the baddy bunch's kitchen looks different right? Well... Since First decided to live with his friends and Teena pretty much moved in with Zouey, meaning First couldn't bunk with his bestie anymore, they needed a new house with more rooms! I think that rooftop party was basically their housewarming party. They simply forgot to mention any of this in the series lol

That dog mask... I think Nuth must've asked Keen to hide it for him. But I also think Nuth himself is hiding it for someone else... It's pretty obvious that Nuth and the doggo guy aren't the same person and I still think our culprit is Prom. Which somewhat leads me to the suspicion that Prom is also our drug provider! Maybe that's his actual job and being the Playboyy manager is just a side gig? Or maybe Prom is dealing drugs behind Jason Lee's back. I mean, Prom already stole a large amount of money from his "daddy" (probably stole it from the club's cash register and the Playboyys). It wouldn't surprise me if he's also stealing drugs or doing other shady business.

If the post credit scene of ep8 isn't just a dream, then Nant is very much dead 😥 Thing is though, if that is happening in present times and not in the past, Nant has died only very recently. His eyes have turned white, but his skin isn't pale and patchy. There are also no signs of insects and other stuff... So unless they got the makeup wrong, Nant hasn't been dead for more than 2 hours. Plus, I didn't see any severe strangulation signs and Nant is wearing only his undies. The clothes he wore in the suicide clip are gone. And well, someone obviously placed him in the middle of the woods. But who? That is the question!

If Nant has indeed died recently, after Nont already came pretty close to finding the dog mask and the doggo guy... someone must've gotten cold feet! I don't think it's anyone from the baddie bunch. Nont had a whole breakdown in front of them and very convincingly told them he'd give up his search for Nant. Which pretty much only leaves Nuth, Phop (yes, also my cutie Phop!) and Prom... I went back to the convo Nuth had with Phop and it does sound kind of open for interpretation:

Nuth: Aren't you mad at me about Nant? Phop: You already told me about it. Why would I be mad?. I just want you to tell me everything. Then I'll be fine."

Now Phop is the very same person who stayed strangely calm while being held at gunpoint. Same when Nuth held a knife against his throat. So either my boy is dense as fuck, or he's got nerves of steel. Add some questionable morals and a pinch of insanity to the mix and you've got the perfect psycho boyfriend who'd be more than willing to commit crimes with you! On the other hand there is Prom, who tried to find out where Nont is planning to search for Nant, but instead was told that Nont would search for the doggo guy and not his twin brother. Now if Prom is Mr doggo, he might want to get rid of all the evidence... Might as well discard of the boring twin while he's at it, since he's got a new one now?

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

idk if you’ve already gotten an ask like this, i had to just start typing as soon as i finished the post.

with neighbor!reader, you wrote that she was the only one to survive, and that she played dead to survive her brother. and you only hinted at things, keeping it vague (which i’m obsessed with cuz it keeps me wanting more) but now im very curious if you would elaborate on the story more? only if you’re comfortable with it, it’s clearly very dark and could be triggering and i don’t want you to write anything you don’t want to, i’m just a sucker for a backstory

It was the soda can that did it. One harmless, innocuous sound that sounded so close to the most dangerous sound you ever heard. By the time you whipped around to see Jason standing there proffering a can of soda.

"I can't be here," you manage, backing slowly out the door you just walked through. You need to get outside. You need to get-

"Hey," a strong, calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, "you okay?"

When all you can do is stand there trembling. Rooted to the spot while blood thunders in your ears, he pulls you against his chest, cradling the back of your head, "You're okay, kid," he said softly, "You're safe, okay? I'm sorry. I forgot you can't do cans-"

"Not behind my head," you manage. "I can't- I couldn't even move. He just kept shooting. He just kept-" You shake your head vigorously and when you pull away Jason lets you go. It's the most you've ever said about what happened to you.

"Hey," he breathed, "You're okay. Alright?"

"Can we- I just- I just need to go outside. It feels like I can't breathe-"

"Yeah," he said immediately, "Let me get your jacket, okay?" He turned and snatched it off the hook before shutting the door and trotting back to you, relieved when you waited. He knew you were probably going to be okay. But the idea of you being outside alone right now made him uneasy.

He put the jacket around your shoulders and tucked your arm through his carefully. And for the trip outside, he didn't talk. But he did watch you, wearily. He could hear you struggling to take a full breath. And he knew you were probably feeling a little dizzy. Still. Once he got you outside, it was better.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked softly.

"No," you answer, folding your arms and shaking your head.

"Alright," he soothed, "What can I do? What do you need-"

"Distract me?" you murmur. "Tell me something, tell me-"

"Wanna hear about the time my older brother and I stole my dad's car?"

"How-"

"I'm getting there," he said smiling.

[harringrovsonsworld]

Jason Carver SFW Alphabet

I was struggling with my kas eddie thing so i decided to take a break and do something for Carver. i know hes an asshole but i do have a soft spot for him. his death was bs and he was clearly in need of help that he didnt get. a terrible waste that he went from the pep rally high to dead in a serial killers attic in less than a week.

anyways long post under the cut

Edit : I forgot j like an idiot fool.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I've gotta be honest. Jason comes across as a shallow air head. The basketball equivalent of sharpee from highschool musical. BUT if any of yall have seen sharpee’s stand alone show/movie thing you'll know she's not quite as shallow as people make her out to be. Jason's affection is like that. He seems at first blush to be a cool guy but you can't think of anyone who’d put them as their emergency contact. Their first call when shit hits the fan. Then you get to know him away from his meat head friends, he can be quite genuine. I don't think he has the forethought to do this on purpose, but he can be very unintentionally sweet and soft with his words. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's a very hands on best friend, especially if it came to a shared hobby like basketball, hiking or swim team. I think he’d have a hard time with stuff he doesn't like, to pick a completely random example, someone who likes DnD. He can be pretty dismissive of ‘that nerd shit’ whatever that might be, it's less out of meanspiritedness and more wanting you to fit in so you can still hang out without damaging his cred. Maybe not the most noble of ideas but it comes from a good place and you have to remember, he is only 18.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

If you were alone or in a more closed off setting, yes I imagine he would like to cuddle. I can see Jason having a pastor dad who probably wasn't the most outwardly loving. He’s maybe a little cuddle starved. He seems like he'd be the type to throw his arm around your shoulder whenever he could, put his head in your lap or hold your hand in church. I don't think he's the type for spooning, probably not allowed to bring anyone home with him, but he might fall asleep against your shoulder while you watch a movie. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I struggled with this one. Jason gives me very white upper class traditional roles sort of vibes. He absolutely wants to get married, in fact i think he’s the type to be planning his dream wedding and dream spouse for years in advance. But I also think he sees himself as the stereotypical man in the relationship. He's expecting to marry someone who’ll be a homemaker while he goes off to work, maybe follow in his fathers footsteps. Bit of internalised misogyny/ toxic masculinity i think. His parents would certainly expect him to do chores when he was younger, but it was on sufferance and it's stopped now he has to focus on college (maybe a basketball scholarship?) He's never learned to cook or clean for himself, even for the pleasure of making food only he wants. If you're into the whole, trad wife/ husband/ spouse thing, maybe this could work out. If not you're going to need to make that clear because jason has a hard time reading sarcasm  

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Say what you will about Carver in season 4, he knows how to be a gentleman to his partners. He’d take you on a date to say goodbye and try his level best to go on good terms. I imagine you'd have to do something pretty egregious to force his hand but I can also see him being told you're not the right partner for him by his parents, then twisting his arm. It's pretty clear that if Chrissy had survived she was going to dump Jason and if Chrissy was an 8 out of 10 on the Jason pain scale, you're an 11. All that to say, oh boy is he going to take that hard. His friends might try to cheer him up with some sort of superficial lads night out but let's be real, there's only so long you can hang around someone miserable who won't cheer up. He's going to go hide in some sort of teenage angst misery pit listening to the 80s equivalent of Linkin park's Numb.  

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Oh hell yes. Jason is so excited about being someone's husband. He loves partying, every teenager does, but he is so excited to settle down with his best friend and build a life with them. He seems the type to give out promise rings, like “we’ll be together when college is done” sort of thing. I imagine he’d want a decent engagement period, mostly so there's enough time to coordinate the wedding and organise it between your two families and pick the right date. I think he’d want a fall wedding, kids soon after so they are born in the spring/summer. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

I think what we see of him with a bad temper and even worse intentions is Jason at his absolute lowest. A snapshot of him at his worst possible moment and it shouldn't be taken as normal. He’s kind of jockish, physically rough and emotionally immature and I honestly don't think he’ll get that much better. He might mellow with age, get rid of all that nervous energy that seems to follow him about. And I doubt that boisterous playfulness will last forever too, so he will probably not be as rough and tumble by the time he's finished college.  I'm not saying you have to parent him but he does seem to need an actual adult to point him in the direction of maturity, talking through his problems instead of taking the huff or just letting things fester. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

I'd say so, yes he's a fan of hugs. He likes those little dancy swaying hugs you get when someone completely wraps their arms around you. I canon Jason as autistic so he likes the pressure and grounding effect they have. His hugs are wrapped a little too tight and he's just a little too into it. He definitely gets teased by his basketball buddies for how many hugs he gives you. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I imagine Jason has been taught to never say that unless he really means it. Brought up to think if you say you love someone, it means you're going to marry them and we all know how important that is to jason. For that reason I imagine he’d be really really slow to say it. He’ll have been thinking about it for a long time, mentally adding it to the end of his conversations with you. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He's not huffy so much as he is oh woe is me. Spirals a bit into self loathing when he thinks you have something better than him. Sometimes he goes a bit over board trying to prove he deserves you, trying to earn you back even though you're still with him and don't intend to leave.

He needs Therapy and a confidence boost.

Kinda chaste, short and sweet. He's not the makeout type normally, mostly just a quick peck on the cheek in the morning before class, a quick goodbye when he drops you home. He likes to kiss cheeks and hands and shoulders. I think he likes to have his neck and jaw kissed. He seems like he's ticklish, might devolve into a giggling fit if you blew a raspberry on his neck. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Hmm judging by his behaviour his parents seem a little absent . I'm betting like most boys in Hawkins he didn't exactly have a good male role model for fatherhood. I imagine he has a sort of idealised version of parenthood in his head that doesn't exactly line up with reality. He likes kids how he sees them in his head, having fun sitting with his daughter having a tea party, and teaching his son how to play ball. I don't think he's thought about all the late night feedings and nappy changing and wiping snotty noses. He's good with calm and fun kids but he has no clue how to deal with a fussy, scared or crying child. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Jason is a fitness nut, not to mention his strict parents. He's up at the crack of dawn for church and a morning run, maybe doing laps in the pool before class. He's perfectly happy to let you lie on until he's done but he's the kind of annoying morning person who wants you to come with him and have fun. He likes to go out for breakfast dates. Actually he likes pancakes and waffles so much he could give el a run for her money. He'd have breakfast for dinner if he thought he could get away with it. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Jason isn't failing any classes but that's mostly due to the fact he spends every moment he's not practising basketball and at church doing work. He doesn't really care too much about his grades, he's banking a lot on a free ride to a sporty college, he just doesn't want to incur his parents wrath and complaints of being a disappointment. He usually falls asleep with his nose in a boring book, maybe with you on the opposite sofa waiting for him to finish his work so you can go grab dinner. He's up at the crack of dawn most days so he's an early to bed sort. Doesn't mean he can't pull the occasional all-nighter for exams or victory parties. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I think Jason is a nervous talker. He’ll info-dump about himself to just fill the silence. It’s all true stuff but it's just a constant stream of consciousness, rambling and going too fast for you to really take in. I imagine once he's past that initial awkwardness and the butterflies have calmed down, he’ll let a steady stream of things about himself be slowly revealed. For all his anxieties he's not super shy, does not hide things about himself and always caves when pressed. He’s not super deep, it's what you see is what you get with Jason 99% of the time. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s pretty average. I think he has a hard time putting himself in other people's shoes a lot of the time, unless it's something he's experienced. Stuff he knows well he’s got a lot of patience for, things he doesn't understand get a lot of “why can't you just do X” or “c'mon Y cant be that hard” he doesn't get angry easily but he does get annoyed, exasperated even. He's a serial problem sorter by which I mean he says the phrase “do you want me to deal with Z for you” rather than just listening or letting you solve the thing on your own time. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Jason is a lot like steve. He’s not stupid even if he isnt that book smart. He remembers a lot of little details and nuances and then does something daft like forget your anniversary. He's a little absent minded when he's focused on other things  but he is good at making it up to you. 

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

I mentioned above he doesn't remember big things even though youd think theyd be easier to remember. He's a bit of a romantic at heart: maybe something like meeting eyes across the carpark or hearing your cheer over the crowd when he scored the winning point at a game. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

After Chrissy left him for someone he thought of as inferior, Jason sort of developed a bit of a complex. He’s a little jealous but more in a sulky passive aggressive way than an outright hostile and accusatory way. When he knows he's upset you he gets pretty melancholic and self pitying “oh woe is me, this is why chrissy left me, i get it now you should leave me too for someone better” that kind of thing. For all his bravado he seems like he has a somewhat low opinion of himself outside of basketball and even that might be taken away from him if he survived the earthquake/upside down of Hawkins with injuries. He doesn't like to be physically protected, he'd rather fight his own battles. But I imagine he might like to have things sugar coated, no harsh truths or telling it like it is. Sometimes you need those harsh truths though so maybe protect him from taking it too hard? Just be gentle with him is what i'm saying.

Assuming he’s still able bodied after the whole, vecna incident, he’d definitely go to bat for you. If not, well he's not particularly cutting, quick or sharp witted. I think he might defend you with somewhat empty threats. But know this, able or not his team still has his back and by extension yours. One dude on crutches isn't much of a threat, but an entire varsity basketball team who wants to kick your ass is a pretty big deterrent to anyone who might mess with you. Less scary dog privilege and more scary wolf pack privilege.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Jason is sort of one note with his effort. He picks stereotypical date ideas, gifts and so on: flowers, chocolates etc. He doesn't do it intentionally, that's just what he assumes girls/guys/nb partners are meant to like. Wining and dining people are really the only string to his bow at the start, it's all he's been taught.  Like I said, he's a romantic so once he finds out more about you he’d try to bring those things into his dates. He loves aquarium dates, one of his special interests is sharks and sea life. I think he’d love it if you took him and just let him ramble for a few hours about jellyfish and deep sea creatures. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He's got a habit of making things quite grandiose. He tends to blow things out of proportion, like good is great and bad is the worst. He's got a habit of giving lectures and speeches and so on. He can be quick tempered but it's usually just as quick to fade. I really put a lot of this down to immaturity. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

It's not his top priority, but he likes to look good for you, you know? Always showers in the morning and after practice at night, wears some nice but subtle cologne and keeps his hair

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

I don't think Jason as we know him has enough emotional complexity to put any thought towards the concept of completeness. He doesn't really get the concept of another half to make him whole in anything other than a religious sense. Maybe when he meets you it'll be the catalyst to realise he did feel like he was missing something and just never noticed it until now. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

As I mentioned, i canon jason as autistic and absolutely adores sharks. I imagine his room is a mix of basketball trophies, photos from church and sea life stuff. He's got shark posters, ocean themed bedspread, a starfish lamp and maybe some sea world plushies on his bed. Lots of calming blues with a sand coloured carpet. Maybe he has an ocean themed music box from his childhood that he keeps by his bed. I can also see him with one of those jellyfish ceiling light covers. His room is hella childish but it's his and he doesn't want to change it. His dad probably hates it but his mom is just happy he's not trying to grow up too fast. Not like anyone has ever seen his room because he isn't allowed to bring partners back and his friends only want to see his pool and wine fridge. 

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He's kinda squeamish. I imagine if he had a partner with a uterus he’d get squicked out by blood from periods or childbirth. He’s not going to make it your problem but he has absolutely fainted when he saw someone get a nose bleed so maybe be careful around him during that time of the month. I think he might find spitting or smoking a deal breaker too. He's sort of a  “my body is a temple” type. Drinking is fine but he draws the line at drugs, even weed. He doesn't have THAT much of a problem with other people doing it but you aren't just any old person so i can see it being a point of contention. 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Jason sleeps like a baby, all swaddled up in his blankets. He is a blanket thief and will literally pull you off the bed if it means pulling the covers towards himself. He does snore a little but is absolutely adamant he doesn't. Once he finally has his blankets he sleeps like a corpse: can't be woken by anything except his alarm and doesn't move a muscle for hours at a time, no tossing or turning and if it wasn't for the snoring you might not even think he’s breathing. 

i didnt intend to write for jason a lot but this was fun. if you wana talk more about jason hmu.

ao3 link is here

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

The Enemy of my Enemy is ALSO my Enemy, Part 6

First<Previous<Masterlist

If nothing else, Jason would like to put on the record that he had tried.

He was so close to being happy, to being revived and having everything be fine, he had watched his own papers drop into his lap and had nearly cried out of sheer joy. It was the first set of paperwork he had done in quite a while – he had joined Melisande and Bucky in giving Gabriel all the things he didn’t want to do, which just so happened to be pretty much everything – but it was worth it. He was going to come back, he was going to be able to see his family again, be able to touch Marinette and Adrien for real. It was amazing.

Which, really, should have been a warning sign for him.

Because, before he had even finished the first page of his stack, a bell had rung.

He glanced up as the hatch in the ceiling opened, more out of habit than anything, and his eyes landed on a familiar face.

He practically fell out of his chair in his haste to get to Marinette, his hand snatching her file out of the air as he went. His free hand landed on her shoulder, shaking vigorously.

“What the hell?” He hissed the moment blue eyes showed a sign of opening.

Marinette blinked blearily at him, her eyebrows drawing together as if she were struggling with a particularly difficult puzzle, and he knew that her consciousness was still not quite tethered to her body yet, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as she shook her harder.

Finally, the final piece of her mind snapped into place, and her own hands came up to rest on his shoulders. Whether this was to get her balance, make him stop, or if she was just that shocked by seeing him, he would never fully know, but as blue eyes peered back into his own, he figured it was probably the last one.

Arms continued on to wrap around him and he gave a tiny gasp as he was pulled into a tight hug.

And he knew he should go back to grilling her, should be screaming about how she was supposed to be done – safe – and that she shouldn’t be here, should question what had happened…

But he indulged himself for just a moment. How could he not? Usually, the hugs he got from her were somewhat hesitant, tainted by the fact that her soul was just barely hanging back with its hands not touching him. They were both there now, for a reason he would get back to soon, but at the moment he was going to enjoy being crushed into her chest, her hands gripping the back of his suit so tightly he could feel her fingernails pricking his skin even through the fabric.

And it had been so long since he’d been able to touch her.

He pressed his face into her shoulder, giving himself a moment to just breathe. She smelled like blood. He hugged her closer. Some terrible part of him wanted to absorb her into his chest, to give her a place within his ribcage where he could make sure she wouldn’t be able to get hurt again.

Every hug has to end eventually, but neither of them seemed all that intent on doing so any time soon.

Which, he supposed, must have been why fate decided to break up their unfortunate little reunion:

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng?” A voice said from behind him.

Marinette went tense in his grip.

She slowly picked her head up, peering up at Gabriel Agreste for just a moment.

“It was you,” she said, recognition flickering behind her eyes. “I thought the timing of your heart attack was suspicious, but… it was really you…”

Jason was still close enough to hear her take a deep breath. It was strange, breathing when you were dead because it wasn’t actually necessary, it didn’t feel bad if you simply forgot and you wouldn’t have to gasp for air when you realized you had stopped, so he knew that the breath she took to steady herself was more out of habit than anything.

But, perhaps, because breathing wasn’t something that their bodies needed, the air didn’t have any kind of calming effects for Marinette.

She pulled away from Jason, got out of the chair, and flashed a too-bright smile.

And then she lunged for Gabriel’s throat.

Jason grimaced at the sound of a fist crunching against the man’s skin, definitely breaking something important.

Melisande eyed the fight that had broken out. “Aim for his penis.”

Bucky didn’t even look up from the papers he had taken from Jason’s desk to pick up the slack. “Too predictable. Go for the eyes.”

Those two never had gotten over the whole Hawkmoth situation.

But, to be fair, neither had Jason, so…

He hummed absently as he thumbed through the pages of Marinette’s file. His eyes found their way to the stats that he almost never paid any real mind to, and he grimaced.

She was set to be brought back within the hour. That was good.

What was less good was the way that she had died because of the League of Assassins. He narrowed in on the fortunately not too-graphic description of her bleeding out from several injuries.

He took a deep, steadying breath. The fact that she was there meant that she was set to be revived soon, so, really, no harm done.

Except for the harm that he was going to bring to the League. He was going to be revived soon, he would be perfectly capable of getting his revenge.

… actually…

“Hey, Marinette,” he said.

Her shoulders tensed at his tone. Her fist stopped in midair, still cocked by her ear. She slowly turned to look at him.

“I’m about to be brought back. You got killed at the League. Care to tell me whether that was a coincidence?”

Her mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

She grimaced and looked back down at Gabriel, who was currently a mess of broken limbs and blood and rattling gasps for breath. She sighed and pushed herself off of him to face Jason properly. “Maybe.”

He groaned a little. “When we see Adrien again, we’re having a talk about risks.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Hey, we’re bringing you back. I think it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

Jason did not know how to respond to that. He sighed and reached out, pulling her into another hug. “So are you.”

She giggled and wrapped her wings around him – her hands were very much covered in blood, so this was probably for the best – and he took a moment to appreciate them. He had expected the ladybug wings he had seen on all of the akuma victims, but he supposed it made sense that they would be different. She couldn’t very well revive herself. So, she had been given whatever wings the universe thought would fit her. Apparently, the universe thought she was a bird. One with bright pink wings, so perhaps a flamingo.

He opened his mouth to tell her about it, and perhaps ask why she had ended up with a flamingo being her animal, only for water to fill it.

And then his head was breaching the surface of the water.

He struggled for air, his body automatically starting to go through the motions needed to keep his head above the churning green, his eyes darting around desperately. He knew, logically, what had happened, but his heart pounded in his chest regardless.

Green light bounced off the cave walls. Shouts echoed around him, but they were muted, as if he was still under. The water frothed around them, churning as he worked to pull himself back together in a very literal sense.

There was a frankly alarming number of assassins standing by the edge of the water, refusing to go in on some vague idea that it was too sacred for them to touch, and certainly too good for them to throw weapons in in fruitless hopes that the three of them might somehow manage to die faster than the Pit could heal them.

Adrien stood over both of them. Water crept up his legs like snakes, twining its way up his body, seemingly searching for things to heal. A frankly worrying amount of throwing knives were tucked between his fingers like claws. His usual staff was slung across his back, but he didn’t seem all that interested in using it at the moment.

He heard a gasp nearby and looked over to find Marinette, her hair stuck to her face and blood sloughing off of her in literal waves.

Jason stretched out an achy limb to grab her arm and hook it over his shoulder, kicking back in the water to try and get them both to float while their injuries were forcibly healed.

For a moment, she leaned into him, her face coming to bury itself in his shoulder. She made a strange, wordless whining sound. He squeezed her as best he could.

And then she pushed off of him, groaning a little as she forced herself to stand in the water that, really, was only up to their waists, and yet the act of getting out of it was almost painful. He could feel tiny hands trying to drag him back under by his clothes.

It wasn’t until he was fully standing that his ears popped and he was allowed to hear all of the yelling in full.

“Weapon,” she said.

He blinked at her.

“What weapon do you want?” She clarified.

He glanced back at the assassins. They were yelling something that he was pretty sure meant ‘traitor’. It wasn’t aimed at him, but that only made the anger that had been curling in his stomach since he’d realized Marinette had been killed grow.

“Gun,” he decided. The assassins would get their wish, he would make sure that they wouldn’t touch the Lazarus waters, and if he had to use a gun to forcibly push them back then so be it.

Marinette grinned and pointed a finger gun at him. She flicked her hand upwards like she was shooting it, and, between blinks, he found a red and black gun had appeared in her hand.

He stared at the gun she shoved into his hand for a couple of moments. No matter how many times he might have seen it, he never did get used to the idea of things just popping into existence when she willed them to.

“Infinite ammo,” she said, apparently misinterpreting his silence for wondering how to use it.

He grinned regardless and lifted the pistol.

“So, do we have a plan of escape? Or are we just waiting for Ra’s to get here so he can fight us? Because I’m going to be honest, I don’t really want to fight him.”

Marinette snorted. “Of course we have a plan. Speaking of…” She inclined her head towards Adrien.

He tucked away half of his knives without saying a word and then lifted his hand. Inky blackness danced along his fingertips.

“Are we ready, M’lady?” He asked.

She hummed lightly and reached out, wrapping an arm around them both. She twirled her yoyo once.

And then she launched her yoyo at the nearest stalactite, only giving it a half second to grip the slippery stone before pulling on it.

They were launched through the air.

The people below them screamed, but it wasn’t quite an angry one, not the kind that meant they were going to be attacked. Not yet, at least. They just sounded panicked. Jason glanced back and found that the same inky blackness that had been curling around Adrien’s hand was now spreading through the water at a rapid rate, making it look somehow, impossibly, cracked. The assassins finally streamed into the Lazarus Pit, their need to preserve the sacred waters just barely outweighing their belief that it was not meant for them.

Meanwhile, their group of three touched down on the banks and took off running.

Marinette grabbed him by the hand and dragged him along behind her as she and Adrien sprinted through the halls of the base. Jason knew from the many briefings he had gotten from Bruce and Dick that the place was supposed to be a labyrinth, and he could see dozens of halls whizz past him as they sprinted, and his eyes caught on several tripwires, but neither of them hesitated at any forks in the path. They simply continued on, following a map that was just a little too perfect for him to think that they hadn’t done, at the very least, heavy infiltration to get to this point.

But before he could really think about that too hard, his eyes caught on a group of assassins streaming down the hall after them. Now they were definitely angry – and gaining on them, their weapons raised.

“Alright, I think the Pit should be destroyed now,” Adrien stated the obvious, flexing his fingers once before starting to trail them along the wall as they ran. The stone began to crumble beneath his hand, but the assassins pushed forward regardless, likely hoping to beat the inevitable cave-in.

Jason wasn’t particularly interested in letting that happen.

He picked off the assassins at the front with his gun. He hadn’t used one before, not really, but they weren’t particularly difficult things to use, and he wasn’t really concerned about being accurate. All he needed to do was slow them down, anyways.

He told himself he didn’t get a bit of a rush when he watched them keel over backward, blood and guts and viscera spraying from wherever he had hit. That he didn’t enjoy watching them get buried under rubble. That it was a bad thing that people were dying.

But, really, should you really expect someone that had been surrounded by magic for years to not pick up a few quirks?

And they had killed Marinette.

A strange grin spread across his face as the last of the rocks settled, dust sticking to skin that was wet with water and sweat and blood and who knows what else.

But they continued running. There was no telling how many assassins were stationed around the place and, even if they might be somewhat distracted, they didn’t want to test it.

Their fears were for nothing, it seemed, because they came upon a door.

And, well, he probably should have wondered why things were going quite so smoothly. Honestly, it should have been a larger red flag. That never happened in the field, especially not for him.

A hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and he gasped as the front of it dug into his neck. He wasn’t given much time to recuperate, though, because a knife was quick to replace the fabric. It wasn’t pressed down, certainly not enough to strangle him like his shirt had, and yet he still couldn’t find it in himself to breathe.

Marinette and Adrien jerked to a stop as well, though they weren’t exactly forced to in the way that Jason had. Honestly, the way that they paused was somewhat unnatural. There was no loss of momentum, no skidding of shoes against the ground. One moment they were running, the next they were not. He wondered, idly, if the magic they wielded might be having just as much of an effect on them as it did on the rest of the world.

Could you tell that Jason was trying very hard to not think about the sharp point currently pressing against his skin?

“You’re traitors,” the assassin said, and apparently she was female. Whoo. Diversity win. The person about to kill Jason again is a woman.

He was going to cry.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we are. Congrats on figuring it out. Do you want a prize?” she said, moving to raise her hand in sarcastic jazz hands.

“Don’t move,” the assassin hissed.

Something akin to frustration flickered across Marinette’s face momentarily, but she didn’t move. It was then that Jason noticed that her fingers were surrounded by some kind of strange, gooey substance. 

Adrien tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “How about we all let everything we’re holding go? I’m sure we can talk this out.”

The assassin seemed unimpressed. “You first.”

Adrien hummed a little, and then raised his hands, letting his knives clatter to the floor.

Marinette showed off empty hands.

The assassin seemed to realize that their being empty-handed meant nothing. Or, perhaps, that it did mean something – that their hands were now free to warp the world as they wished.

The knife dug further into his neck. He didn’t realize how much he liked the cold gleam of the metal until he could feel warm blood dripping down his skin.

“Disappointing,” Adrien sighed, giving a smile befitting of the model he once was. It was perfect, but there was nothing genuine about it, and his eyes flashed coldly.

“You were both talented. Fix the Pit and let me kill this boy, and you just might not make an enemy of the League.”

Marinette hummed, her head tilting to the side at a just slightly unnatural angle. She turned her head to look at Adrien, who seemed, remarkably, even less enthused than she did.

The assassin gave a theatrical sigh that didn’t quite cover up the cold smile starting to play across her features. “I suppose I’ll just have to make you fix it, then.”

Jason tipped his head back to rest against the woman’s shoulder. The knife followed him, but that wasn’t why he’d done it.

He pressed the gun against her side. Tilted at a careful angle that would, at the very least, puncture her lungs upon firing.

“Sorry. I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

He pulled the trigger.

Pain seared through him and he bit down on his tongue to stifle a scream.

And then he was on his ass, groaning and cursing as he hit the tile. The world had transformed. His eyes darted around desperately, as if he somehow still wasn’t sure that he was dead even though he knew what a slash across the throat meant, but he was disappointed to find the same office walls that he had practically grown up in. Two people leaned over him, and tears began to sting as he recognized Melisande and Bucky.

“What, kid, did you forget something here?” Bucky asked, his expression somewhere between mildly pained and amused.

Melisande gave him a cold look and jabbed him in the side.

Bucky didn’t even seem to notice. He caught a file with a green tab sticking out of it in a practiced motion and, after giving him a tiny pat on the head, went back to work.

Jason scrambled to his feet, drawing red and black wings close to try and comfort himself. But he couldn’t. He was dead. Again. How long would he be there this time? Did he even want to know?

Fuck.

Everything he did brought him back here. His original life. Dealing with Hawkmoth. And now he couldn’t even escape properly. Every road always led to death, that was the price of living, but this was different. Every road for him led him back to purgatory. He strangled a sob. At least, if he died, things would be over, but now he had to go back to waiting. Until Marinette and Adrien were able to get back to the Pit, or maybe even later. Maybe he would have to wait for someone else to revive him, and surely that was worse. What if the face he saw when he was brought back wasn’t friendly? What if he got sent right back here again?

Damn it.

He curled in on himself, ignoring the fact that he was doing so in a public space and that everyone could still see him.

Melisande grimaced as she looked down at Jason. She pulled the boy to his feet and he simply allowed it, unable to muster the energy to really stop her. He wanted to cry, but that, at least, was too far for him. He could handle having a breakdown in the middle of an office building, but crying was worse.

But understandable.

Too bad he didn’t feel like understanding much at the moment.

He groaned and looked around. He was somewhat pleased to find Gabriel Agreste still on the floor. He was moving, but just barely. After a couple of moments, he walked over and stomped on the man’s neck. It didn’t matter, he was 99% sure people here couldn’t die, but the wheeze and wide eyes that he got from the man were more than a little relieving.

At least, if he was back here, he would be able to rag on Gabriel again. Fuck that guy. He deserved every punch and kick and extra file Jason was going give him over the next however many years.

He tried to laugh. It came out a sob.

Melisande reached a hand out for him, and then stopped, apparently thinking better of it.

Maybe she shouldn’t have, because the hand would have done him quite a lot of good. He nearly fell to the floor again, his hands coming down to rest on a nearby table were the only thing that kept his knees from buckling fully. He took a few deep breaths, matching the desperate gasps he could hear Gabriel make as the man clawed desperately at his throat. He couldn’t help but smile a little at the sound.

The smile, like his life, didn’t last very long.

He groaned and let himself sink toward the ground.

He closed his eyes.

And then the world around him tilted on an axis and he cried out.

Something rough, but not wholly terrible, dug into his back. He flung his eyes open, but it didn’t do him much good. Red and black danced in his vision, moving so fast that he wanted to be sick.

All at once, it all disappeared and he found himself staring into brilliant green eyes.

He stared uncomprehendingly for a few moments.

Oh.

Relief flooded into him.

Ladybug had summoned the gun he’d been using. Which meant that a miracle cure was more than possible. And, now that he thought about it, his wings had been black and red.

Maybe, later, he would feel embarrassed about his little freakout. He had been trained better, really, he was supposed to pay attention to his surroundings, and most certainly himself, but…

But, for now, he grabbed Adrien by the front of his shirt and dragged him into a hug.

Adrien made a quiet squeaking sound, throwing his hands out in front of him to stop himself from unwillingly tackling Jason further into the grass, but he recovered quickly. He looped his arms around him and tucked Jason’s head under his chin. The hug wasn’t quite as tight as the one he had gotten from Marinette, it was looser, softer. More of a hand carding through his hair and the faint smell of something floral on the breeze and slotting in perfectly against a slightly-too-thin frame.

“Guys…” Marinette said after a few moments. “We really should be going.”

Adrien didn’t even move, though his hand twitched like he was about to make a rude gesture but thought better of it. “No. You got a heartfelt hug or whatever, I get one, too.”

She rolled her eyes, but her expression was nothing but fond. “Fine. I’ll stand guard.”

Adrien gave a little hum, and Jason’s nose scrunched just slightly when his throat vibrated by his ear, but that just made the blond laugh a little and press closer to him.

Jason was pretty sure that they could have stayed there forever but, eventually, his stomach growled and his face flushed pink as he drew back. “Right. Revived. I have to have food now.”

Adrien gave a tiny grin and carefully got to his feet. He offered Jason his hand, and he didn’t even hesitate before taking it.

“Alright, Mari, you can relax now.”

Marinette popped out of a bush. Jason did not see her get into the bush, but she was out of it now. He has chosen to just accept this.

She grinned at him and stretched her arms over her head. “Where are we gonna eat?”

“Could you make something at the house?” Offered Adrien. “I’m sure Plagg and Tikki want to get out and eat, too.”

Marinette hummed lightly. “Fine. I’ll whip up some food before we abandon the place. Can we –?”

“No, we’re not going to burn the house down once we’re done with it.”

Marinette sighed and looked at Jason.

Jason hesitated before shrugging. “I mean. As long as its a controlled fire and there’s no one around to get hurt, I don’t see why we can’t...”

Adrien groaned. Marinette whooped.

There weren’t any hard feelings, though.

They started off towards their house. Their house, because this was home. Jason took them both by the hand, and neither of them so much as flinched. Marinette intertwined their fingers. Adrien swung their arms back and forth.

After a few moments, Marinette huffed. “I’m offended that you’re taller than me now.”

He, too, hated that he was so large. It was throwing him off more than he’d ever admit out loud.

However…

“Yeah. That’s because you’re my baby sister.”

“Listen here, you little shit –.”

“I spent years in the afterlife, so I’m older.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, biologically, I’m older –.”

“We don’t even know that for sure –.”

Adrien sighed. “Guys, we just got the gang back together… or whatever the Americans say… can we just enjoy being together for a couple of minutes?”

Marinette and Jason glared at each other around Adrien for a moment before settling. He was right, after all…

Adrien’s eyes gleamed. “But, for the record, you’re the youngest.”

“Ha!”

“Oh, you conniving bitch –!”

[evilwickedme]

30. how don’t you know the difference between your left and right?

Thank you so much for the prompt and sorry in taking so long to answer it, the fic I wrote is technically part of my before and after fic series and I didn't want to spoil certain things. That said, it's now up - also available on ao3, ofc. But no worries - this can absolutely be read as a standalone!

Without further Ado -

my heart is melting and my hands are weak

Relationship tags: Jason / Roy, Jason & Tim

Additional tags: pre-slash, mental health, dissociation

For ppl following the series, this happens sometime in January 2020, Jason is 23, Roy is 27/28 or so

Jason knows when he wakes up in the morning that it’s going to be a Bad Day.

Not necessarily a bad day as in anything is going to go wrong. There’s a difference between a bad day and a Bad Day. Everyone has bad days, where they wake up in the morning and the sky is gray and some car splashes mud on them on the way to work and their boss yells at them because they forgot to do something small and they end up ordering a comfort pizza they really can’t afford right now according to their budget. That kind of bad day is just a part of the human fucking condition, he’d once told Helen. This is not what his Bad Days are like. Bad Days don’t necessarily have to be bad days at all.

The thing about Bad Days, the thing that defines them, is that on Bad Days Jason Todd wakes up in the morning and he doesn’t feel alive.

He knows he is. He can feel his own toes as he goes through the motions of the grounding techniques he’d been taught almost a decade ago now, giving every muscle its turn, putting himself back in his own body and remembering how to push air in and out of his lungs. He knows that he’s alive, because he doesn’t remember being dead, but he’s pretty sure he couldn’t feel the callouses on his fingers with his thumb inside his grave. He knows he’s alive.

But on Bad Days, he doesn’t feel it.

His examination of every sinew of his body complete, he opens his eyes and examines his surroundings. His current Park Row apartment is small, but well insulated, so he doesn’t have to cover himself with six layers of blankets in the dead of winter. Still, his body is a little cold in his usual bedtime attire of a loose undershirt and boxers, which he finds less confusing when he sees he must have knocked one of the three layers he still needed to sleep under in the January freeze onto the floor while he was sleeping. The room is extremely sparsely decorated – Helen tells him he should personalize his space, to make it feel more like his space, but he’s too likely to break the lease and run at short notice, and he doesn’t want to risk leaving anything important behind.

His phone pings, and he realizes he doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at the blanket heap at the foot of the bed.

Arse: I’m outside!!!

Jason groans. Just what he needs on a day like this.

Still, he pushes himself onto his feet, slowly making his way to the front door. He doesn’t bother getting dressed; it’s not like the man waiting to be let in hasn’t seen him look much worse. He disarms his security system mindlessly, relying on muscle memory, and opens the door.

“Heya, Jaybird,” says Roy Harper, a grin stretched almost grotesquely on his features. “Long time no see.”

Jason just waves at him wordlessly. Well, technically he starts signing, before remembering Roy doesn’t know ASL. But it probably looks like aimless waving from an outside perspective.

Roy walks in anyway, whistling appreciatively. “This place is much nicer than the last one, Jay,” he says in a low voice. It tickles somewhere in the back of Jason’s skull, something that he doesn’t quite understand.

Jason shrugs, letting the door slam shut behind him; he reactivates the security system in the meantime. “It’s fine,” he says. “Warm.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Roy says, glancing at Jason’s bare arms, in direct contrast to Roy’s own body being well hidden under what looks like two separate coats. “I’m starting to cook in this, man.”

Jason snorts. Roy’s struggling with the zipper of his coat, so Jason steps over to help, freeing his friend and revealing the thick wool sweater beneath, presumably the material the zipper had gotten stuck on. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

“Can’t I just want to visit my best buddy?” Roy asks.

Jason raises an eyebrow. Roy sighs in defeat.

“Fine, there may or may not be an op I could use Red Hood’s help on,” Roy admits. “Something a little more complex than a broken zipper.”

Jason realizes neither he nor Roy moved once the coat was off, and he can see Roy’s Adam’s apple bob nervously as the other man realizes the same thing. Jason clears his throat and steps back. He throws the coat over the back of his couch so it doesn’t sit heavily in his arms anymore.

“What is it?” he says, wishing he had pockets to shove his hands into. He settles for leaning against a wall to suggest the same nonchalant aura.

“Drugs,” Roy says, “probably. Some New York syndicate moving product through Gotham tomorrow night.”

Tomorrow, Jason thinks, mentally sighing in relief. Things don’t necessarily go badly on Bad Days, but it’s a lot harder to focus on nonlethal shooting when he’s on the verge of what Helen calls dissociating, and he used to call glitching out like it’s the fuckin’ Matrix.

Roy sits on the couch and puts his feet up on Jason’s coffee table.

Jason snorts. “Make yourself at home, I guess.”

“Do you have some of that fancy shit Bruce calls coffee?” Roy responds.

Jason does, in fact, happen to have some of the fancy shit Bruce calls coffee. Tim brings it over in regular intervals, unwilling to find himself bereft if he finds himself crashing on Jason’s couch, or sometimes floor. Jason’s actually running low; as he goes through the motion of making the coffee – he knows exactly how Roy takes his coffee, of course, they’ve both made it for each other dozens of times to fuel long sleepless nights together, pouring over documents or just pushing away nightmares – he debates letting Tim know it’s almost gone, but it’s a safe assumption that Tim is already well aware. His brother’s overdue for a visit, anyway.

“Thanks, Jaybird,” Roy says when Jason finally hands him a mug. Jason nods and settles besides his friend, cupping his own mug.

“Tell me about the case,” he says, and listens to Roy as well as he can as the man speaks, telling him about the trail he found last week and how he followed it to Gotham, pausing only to take an occasional sip from his mug.

Jason closes his eyes and lets the words wash over him. It definitely sounds like drugs. Should be a simple case, in and out at the Gotham Harbor, shoot some bad guys and call the cops, maybe let O know in case they need backup. Plant trackers on the ones who don’t get taken in or taken down. It’s routine.

He’s so tired. If Roy hadn’t shown up, he thinks he’d probably still be in bed.

“You okay there, Jaybird?” Roy asks. Jason hadn’t noticed he’d stopped speaking, but now that he thinks back, there may have been a silent minute or two.

“Just, haven’t woken up yet,” Jason says, taking another sip of ice cold coffee.

“Mm,” Roy says. He looks Jason up and down, and Jason would wonder what he’s seeing, if he was at all in the presence of mind to do so. “Do you wanna spar, get the blood pumping a little?”

Jason likes sparring with his friends. He knows this about himself. Just, like, objectively, this is something he enjoys doing.

He doesn’t want to spar with Roy.

“Okay,” he says, dragging himself off the couch. “I’ll go change.”

He reemerges from his bedroom some vague amount of time later – he doesn’t know how long he spent staring at his dresser, trying to remember what he was doing, but it was probably not a short amount of time. Roy’s already working up a sweat, stripped down to his tee and sweatpants and stretching his arms.

“Ready?” Roy asks, grinning.

Automatically, Jason says, “Born ready.”

There’s an empty space in the apartment, cleared specifically for Jason’s workouts, that works really well for sparring as well, and there are no valuables in the apartment for someone to accidentally break, anyway, so they just get right into it. Roy throws a punch at Jason’s throat; he dodges, and makes contact with Roy’s stomach, instead. Roy coughs, but manages to make Jason stumble with a well-timed kick. It continues in this vein, the two of them extremely familiar with each other’s fighting styles and dirty tricks.

“You need to be more careful, you’re dropping your left shoulder,” Roy says casually, and Jason responds by raising his shoulder.

Roy immediately backs off.

“You okay, Jaybird?” he asks, and Jason realizes too late what happened. “Do you not know the difference between your left and your right?”

He raised the wrong shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m just – ” Jason sighs. “Never mind, let’s just get back to it, okay?”

“Nah, I’m over it,” Roy says nonchalantly.

“You sure?” Jason asks doubtfully.

“You’re not into it,” Roy says.

Jason shrugs. “I could be.”

“We can spar anytime, Jay,” Roy says, “it doesn’t have to be right now. ‘Sides, I think I’m in the mood to veg.”

Jason makes a face at veg. “You’re spending too much time with Tim,” Jason informs him.

Roy just laughs and claps Jason on the back. “I’d have to spend less time with you, then,” he says, “and I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

They veg.

Or, well, Jason finds his civilian laptop where it’s buried underneath the couch seat and logs into Dick’s Netflix, which he uses not because he can’t afford his own damn Netflix subscription, but because he likes messing with Dick’s algorithm. He tells Roy to pick something, and then he leans back on the couch till he’s only just barely touching Roy arm to arm, and closes his eyes.

He isn’t familiar with whatever it is Roy picked for them; some comedy he’s never heard of, but he missed a lot of pop culture during the time he was dead, and then “dead”, so that doesn’t really mean much. Tim’s Steph tried to “educate” him, and he threw a stray batarang at her. Fake dead Robins don’t get to lecture actually dead Robins, he’d said. None of it really mattered to him, and if something truly important had happened, it would come up in a case. That’s how he found out that Doctor Who’s a woman now, whatever that means. Tim had a lot of opinions on that one.

Jason can barely hear the comedy over Roy’s commentary, which suits his relaxation needs perfectly. Roy’s generally a lot funnier than the comedies he’d been forced to sit through over the past few years, anyway, and he likes the way his low voice rumbles through the bones of the couch, so that he feels it in his lower spine.

Eventually even Roy’s voice peters off, however, and Jason finds that he doesn’t even mind. Roy repositions so he’s got his arm on the back of the couch, and it makes the hairs on Jason’s neck raise in anticipation of – something. He doesn’t know. He gets so aware around Roy, sometimes, and he doesn’t have anything to compare it to, doesn’t understand the feeling. He chases after it as often as he ignores it.

His phone chimes again.

TD: knock knock

u have a key

TD: it’s polite to ask, motherfucker

ur not polite

“Yes I am,” Tim huffs, already shutting the door behind him, and Roy startles so hard it shakes Jason, too.

“I – what?” Roy asks, and Jason just shows him his phone, because it’s quicker than explaining. “Oh. Hi. Was Jason expecting you?”

“Coffee,” Jason grunts.

Tim holds up one of Alfred’s reusable shopping bags, presumably holding coffee in it. “Good stuff’s running low, figured I’d replenish it,” he says.

“Knew Jason kept you around for some reason,” Roy says wisely.

Tim’s eyes flash in amusement, but when they settle on Jason, the concern in them is clear as day.

All good? he signs.

Jason shrugs. Bad Day.

Tim nods in understanding. His Bad Days don’t look like Jason’s, not from the inside or the outside, but he got them, too. Probably everyone in the superhero community did, but Jason didn’t make a habit of talking about his therapy with anybody except Tim, and Bruce when Helen forced him to.

“Didn’t think there’d be anybody here except Jason,” Tim says as he unpacks his meager offerings. He also seems to have brought over some of his disgustingly sugary cereal bars. Nobody would be touching those except Tim.

Jason translates in his head. Is it okay that Roy and I are here on a Bad Day? He scowls at Tim’s back. As if he can’t make the choice of who he wants to hang out with.

Roy’s easy, he signs when Tim faces him again, knowing Tim would know what he means. Not heavy. It’s fine.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t planned,” Roy says. “Chased a lead down here from New York. I’ll only be here for a couple of days, most like.”

“Need help?” Tim asks, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Red Robin’s at your service, if you need him.”

“Nah, I’m good on that front, thanks,” Roy says. “All I need is Jaybird right here.”

Jason doesn’t react to Tim’s raised eyebrow. He knows what Tim thinks, and he’s not going to comment on it.

“But I was wondering if you could recommend some solid ASL courses,” Roy continues. “I remember Dick said you had everyone take them for Cass, I bet you did a fuckton of research on it.”

Jason stares at Roy in shock.

“Yeah, I did,” Tim says slowly, “why are you asking? Is this for a case?”

“Just figured, if I’m going to be following this guy around any longer, might as well speak his language,” Roy says, shoving his shoulder against Jason.

“Huh,” Tim says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but then his phone chirps – literally, his texting ringtone is a little bird chirp, Dick set it – and he frowns at the screen. “Ugh, I have to go.”

“Lock after yourself!” Jason yells. “Don’t leave the door open ag–!” But Tim’s already gone, and he leaves the door a little open behind him, the little brat.

He makes to go and close it, but Roy’s already gotten up. He pats Jason’s shoulder comfortingly and says, “I’ll get it, you just stay right there and get your beauty rest, Jaybird.”

“Shut up, Roy,” Jason groans.

Roy grins at him again. “Never,” he promises, and Jason hopes to hold him to that.

[filmmarvel]

Stranger Things Season 4 Volume 2 Death Predictions and Theories

🚨spoiler warning for Vol 1🚨

so apparently one of the actors (I think Millie) said something about them killing off several characters this season (which makes sense). So here are the characters I’m most concerned about:

Will Byers- the evidence seems to be stacked against him here. Aaand it makes perfect sense that Vecna would target him. My money’s definitely on Will dying (it’s possible that he’ll just get close to dying, but he’s had several brushes with death already, and yet the actors have said his saddest moment is this season).

Steve Harrington OR Nancy Wheeler- I’m wondering if one of them is going to go. Not both of them though. While it’s hard to imagine either one of them dying, that kind of makes it seem more likely. At this point I’m leaning towards Steve, but the Duffers would be pushing it, killing him off, and I have a feeling that’s too risky for the show. However, I think Eddie will probably save Nancy, so we’ll see. But when I think about the rest of the group, it’s even harder to imagine any of them dying sooo.

Jonathon Byers- To be honest, this one doesn’t seem super likely. Among other reasons, I don’t think they’d kill both Jonathon AND Will. However, he’s had an extremely reduced character this season, and he and Nancy are breaking up. It’s possible, but I’m not sure I can see this happening. Maybe he’ll sacrifice himself saving Will or something.

Dmitri Antonov- My moneys on him dying FOR SURE. His friendship with Hopper is important enough that his character probably wouldn’t simply be abandoned (should he survive). But what would happen instead? There’s no way they’d keep up with him in Russia. Would he go back with Hopper to Hawkins? Probably not, he doesn’t have a lot of relevancy there. Unless they find some other way to work him into the plot, he’s dead for sure (possibly saving Hopper on his way out of Russia?)

Eddie Munson- I absolutely love Eddie, so I hate to entertain this as much as anyone else, but it makes perfect sense that he’d die. I mean I really don’t want them to pull an Alexei again, but they’ve shown they aren’t afraid to kill off a beloved new character so we’ll see. Right now, I think he’ll die for a number of reasons. Starting with the fact that he’s seen playing guitar in the upside down. Now, at the end of Episode 7, we see Nancy go into a trance while still in the upside down. Because Eddies in his trailer already, he’ll be able to quickly run and grab his guitar, go back to the upside down, and play a song to reach Nancy. Personally, I think he’ll somehow die while saving her. It would also make sense that he would have a heroic death, since the entire season he’s been talking about how cowardly he’s been (running away and whatnot). How heartbreaking would it be if he died standing up for the first time? Also his death could prevent the need for an explanation for the murders- it could just be assumed that he did it.

Edit: Jason’s probably gonna die, I forgot about him for a second (tbh I wouldn’t be too mad about that).

Reasons I don’t think they’ll kill some other characters: Lucas and Dustin are staples in the friend group, they simply can’t die. Mike has been a central character from the beginning, as has Joyce, so it seems unlikely they’d kill either of them. Killing Hopper would make the Russia storyline redundant, and similarly, it’s hard to imagine they’d kill Max after she’s already escaped death once (I would be so pissed if they pulled a fast one and actually killed her). Argyle could die, but he hasn’t been super important to the plot so far, so it’s hard to imagine they’d cast him into the spotlight with a big death scene. And Eleven can’t die for obvious reasons.

As usual, let me know your thoughts and predictions!

[giurochedadomani]

Just in case it makes anyone curious and because I cannot stop thinking about it every time these songs come on my spotify, this is what these st characters would listen if they were Spaniards (like me) 

- Max definitely, absolutely, 110% I have no proof nor doubts, Mecano. They were massive in the 80s. I think ‘running up that hill’ is meant to do a paralel between Max and El, and in order to keep the same vibes of ‘I don’t fit in’, I’d probably say ‘Me colé en una fiesta’ (I snuck in a party).

- However one of the biggest hits Mecano had was ‘Hijo de la Luna’ (Son of the moon), about a girl that promises the moon her first born in exchange of a wedding with her crush and that crush ends up murdering her because the baby comes out looking white, and with grey eyes-- like the moon and not like him. And it’s not quite the Mayfield-Hargrove’s backstory, but there’s something about the fair child whose father blames him for existing that makes me think about Billy; and also the most well known cover is a heavy metal cover, so I end up thinking about Billy and Max and their differences and the possibilities of rebuilding the bridges between them, etc. idek hijo de la luna gives me all the feelings. 

- I think that Billy would own if he could all of Baron Rojo’s discography. 

- We’re widely ignoring that while Mago de Oz is an 80s band, they didn’t have any fame until the 90s because Eddie’s the archetypical mago de oz fan. Mago de Oz has the same vibe as Nightwish? In the sense that they base their lyrics on legends, witchcraft, etc. And although Spain also had a satanic panic with roleplaying games in the 80s, I can absolutely picture jason leveling against eddie the fact that he saw him playing Fiesta Pagana with his guitar as the ultimate proof that he’s a satanic leader (🎵 Rise up, rise your fist and come to the pagan party, near the bonefire there’s stuff to drink; the people and the ruler are not the same, they have the clergy and us have our sweat 🎵  It’s a call for rebellion against the ruling class and also the most well known heavy metal song in Spain).

But also ‘La posada de los muertos’ (The inn of the dead men) gives me aaaaaaall the mungrove feelings mainly because I can imagine eddie and billy shouting-singing  🎵 Rise up your beer, let’s drink in the name of freedom, heaven may wait for you, because hell is this inn this town  🎵

And also!! I forgot. Extremoduro as Billy and Eddie’s middle point

(But also because I’m a bit soft for some pining with a good ending and extremoduro has the quintessential heavy metal spanish pining song: ‘So payaso’, Such a clown) 

Anyway, have some Spanish bangers! ;)

[redjaybathood]

Had a weird idea I wanted to share, Batman AU, but with their comic timelines.

What I mean is like... Bruce started in 1939, Dick came into his life in 1940, Jason arrived on the scene in 1983 when Dick is like 42 and Bruce is 54, then only comes back to life in like, 2001 maybe? Then comes back as Red Hood in his canonical debut date.

Meanwhile Tim is 1989, Steph 1992, Cass 1999, while Duke is 2013.

Damian is tricky cos Birth of the Demon was released in 1993 so Bruce would be like 64 I guess, but its probably still workable?

No idea what to do with such a timeline, but the thought interests me.

So the best thing out of it is, Jason really was dead for thirty years and he's awfully out of touch with technology and cultural references, like that one panda redd video suggests.

It would, however, make Cass significantly younger than both Tim and Steph! She's a baby! They out to have graduated college and got jobs by the time she shows up, sixteen years old, give or take.

So like, while I do admire Bruce having so much energy to spare that he fathers a child when he's in his seventies. But let's say that regardless of his personal life, and professional too - Bane broke his back in the nineties - he retires soon after.

Hell, Dick retires. He's pretty close in age to Bruce. By the time 00s rolled around, he raised several generations of heroes, on Titans team. He established Titans Academy, with Roy, Donna, Wally, Garth - the old timers. Although it's probably only he and Roy who feel the pass if time in this group.

I vote for War Games not happening/happening without Steph's involvement because in 1992 she was like 14??? Born in +/- 1978? In mid-00s she would be 20+. She would care fuck all for Bruce's opinion and wouldn't even want to be Robin. Oh, I forgot, Bruce already retired at that point. I guess Azrael, or Helena, or Cass, or, and hear me out, Kate is the Bat now. So this whole nonsense just - never happens. Sionis does start a gang war but it has zero to do with Steph.

So Jason, sixteen, seventeen, comes back to Gotham, Tim's an adult and still a Robin, Jason is thinking like, ugh, cringe. Not in so many words but yeah. So Titans Tower doesn't happen. The only blood drawn between them is barbs they trade, probably.llll

Do you think Jason would be too overwhelmed by the changes to pull a UtRH? I dunno but it feels like.