Hear Me Out. Secret Magic User Jason Todd, Except It's A Secret To Him Too. Like, Nature Witch Potential.

after my Tim Edits Reality post, I haven't been able to stop thinking about Frankie (the dog) and though he remembers just editing her into his life, what he edits is more like the space-time continuum, so his parents remember getting her for him. And I haven't been able to stop thinking of like

Little kid Tim, trying to get his parents to stay longer: mom, I'm so lonely...!

Janet: oh sweetheart, I know. But we have work, you know that.

Tim: but I'm all alone in this big house... It's so lonely and scary...

Janet: you're right, Tim. I'm sorry about that, sweetheart. I'll see what I can do.

Tim thinks his mom is going to try and stay. That same night she arrives with a Border Collie puppy.

Janet: look, Tim. So you won't be so lonely while your father and I are away. You can train her, and you can play together. Just make sure you take care of you both and clean after her, ok?

Tim, torn between sad his mom isn't staying and happy he now has a puppy: ok, mama. Thank you.

Now I love Frankie, and I love giving the batfam an animal companion. So far, through my fics, it's as follows:

Lettuce the Crow for Jason (not yet written, but will be appearing soon) in "Tim's a weirdo, but he's our weird— Jason, what do you mean you have a child!?" (my Dragon!Tim and dad!Jay fic)

Promise the Kitten for Dick in Shadows of New Beginnings (my dad!Dick fic)

And I will be adding Frankie to my Howling at the River fic (secretly married musician!Tim)

Plus of course Alfred and Titus play a big role for Damian in Of Beliefs and Devotion (part of my dragon Tim au, but focused on witch worshipping Damian/magic Damian)

When I write my magic user Janet au, you best believe she'll have a familiar too, maybe an owl or even a small magical creature

that's it, thank you, I was ranting. It's 6am and I didn't sleep to write Howling at the River

Happy to provide links if you want, after I've slept

Selina: cute kid!

Dick: you gonna say something? No?

Bruce:... Kid?

Dick: mkay, well, hi! Thank you! Yes, I am a cute kid, with a cool dad, you should totally date him. c;

Bruce, nearly having a breakdown... Kid?

He has no idea where the kid came from...

AU Where Battinson is Adopted By a 10-Year-Old Dick Grayson >:)

Hey, I was thinking of a fic idea. I don't know if it's been done (please send link if so)

I was thinking that it was a risky move from the syrens to mention a daughter when she perfectly could've not mentioned it. Unlike with the water fear thing, she wasn't prompted. Now syrens are supposed to know every way at sea, so I bet they have a wide net of information. So what if they had information on Ithaca as well? Would make sense, wouldn't it? Maybe not the best info, but info nonetheless.

Now, I don't know about you, but if my husband were to go to war, I'd be real affectionate those last few days iykyk. Also I don't think there was a very effective birth control yet, was there?

So what if Penelope sees them away, everything's normal, Telemachus is a baby, all good. And then as time goes on, she starts feeling symptoms but she's in denial. No, she can't be pregnant when her husband isn't home to know about it. She can't. She must be just anxious, or ill or exhausted. Oh, her belly? Yeah no, it hasn't yet gone back to what it used to after telemachus. Oh it's bigger? Yeah, she ate a lot tonight. Totally normal.

By the time she gets over her denial and realizes that oh shit she's pregnant, Odysseus is on the battlefield, not just on the way. She asks Hermes to deliver the message, but Athena convinces him not to, because he's already eager to go home, and if you add that his wife is pregnant, he'll try to make it home before the birth, but that would only make him reckless. It'd get him killed. No, they'll tell him when the war is over. Except of course it takes longer than expected.

Now meanwhile, Ithaca receives her Princess not even a year after her Prince. They get along great. Telemachus adores his little sister. And Penelope adores both her children. She sees a part of her husband in each of them. But the girl (I'm thinking Alkmene, which I'm aware is already a character of Greek mythology, but roll with it) is Odysseus's spitting image while Telemachus is hers.

All of Ithaca can see that the Princess is the miniature version of their King. She makes the same expressions, snarls the same way when she's pissed off, has the same features, from his hair, eyes, face shape. She's his mini-me. So, Ithaca slowly shifts from calling her Alkmene to Mini (alkmene, mene, mini).

Meanwhile Telemachus is his mother's son through and through. The Prince and Princess look like the King and Queen genderbent. And act like them too. Telemachus learns arts, sits alongside his mother as he learns to play instruments and she even teaches him to weave. And Mini, she tries. She does, truly. But she's just not the most patient. She can't sit still for hours on end handling a thread.

So Penelope sits her down hands her a knife and a piece of wood. She knows Mini is just like her father, and hopes his hobby will be something she finally picks up. So she teaches her woodcarving. And would you look at that, she likes it.

Now, Telemachus as the heir, he is the one most in the public eye. Mini tends to hand back, carving wood and watching her brother with sharp eyes, but doesn't stay seated for long, no, she sticks to the shadows and shifts which pillar she's resting against. Unlike Odysseus' leadership and commanding presence, though, she doesn't like to be perceived. She moves on quiet feet, never stays in one spot for long, and doesn't speak much. It's hard to keep track of her. But she's always watching.

Telemachus and her have different ways to feel close to their father. He steals his accessories and clothes (I read a headcannon and a fic and loved this), and she usually sits by her father's bow and talks to it, as if it were her father. Eventually, just before the war ends, she takes a regular bow and teaches herself to use it. She sucks at it at first. She struggles to even string it. Just like Telemachus struggles with fighting.

She does this on secret. She sees the way her mother stares at the bow. Her brother isn't all that interested in learning that yet. So she sneaks out and practices. She sucks. Truly she does. The amount of times she's hit herself on the face just trying to pull the string back, or later cut her cheek with the string as it shoots, the amount of times her arrows were pathetically weak.

Meanwhile, the war ends, and instead of telling him, by now Hermes isn't paying much attention and Athena wants to, really, but can't find the way to tell him "oh by the way, you also have a nine-year-old daughter and I knew all along but didn't tell you", and then you know, they argue and such. She never actually tells him.

And when Hermes makes his appearance during Wouldn't You Like, he also doesn't tell him because there are more pressing issues. But after the Syren thing, on the way to Scylla, he comes down again like

"uhm, actually... You do have a daughter. Your wife was pregnant when you left."

"What?"

"Yeah. Your spitting image, that one. So much so, they call her Mini. Mini of Ithaca, has a ring to it, doesn't it? Mkay, I'll take my leave, have fun~"

"Wait no, you can't just— Hermes, come back!"

And then everything goes as it does. His seven years on Calypso's Island are torture, not only because he has to wonder how his wife is doing and how his boy grew up, but also because he spends them thinking of the daughter he didn't know he had. Was she his spitting image physically or personality wise? What traits of his did she get? What's her real name? Because okay, they call her Mini, but what's her name? Ctemene, like his sister? Something else?

And as the years pass, his anxiety rises when he thinks of home. Because by now, she must be grown up. By now, both his wife and his daughter must have suitors, and he's not there to scare them off.

And meanwhile, during those ten years after she first took the bow, she spends most of her time hidden, trying to learn. The first thing she tries to learn is to hunt, she's not great at it, but she tries. Not for sport either but because as the suitors start to arrive, boy can they eat, and she doesn't want them in her space. This gets Artemis's attention.

Artemis sees this young woman, trying to hide from suitors (some of them also try to get her, because hey, Queen or Princess, same thing right?), trying to learn to hunt but not doing so unnecessary or out of malice. This girl tries to befriend as many animals as she can, but still does hunt. And she takes her under her wing. Now I know Artemis was on the Trojan's side, but come on, it's been almost twenty years.

Under her tutelage, Mini becomes a great archer, just like Telemachus becomes a warrior under Athena's. Unlike Telemachus, she's not too interested in fighting. She does archery because she feels it brings her closer to her father, not because she wants to be a warrior.

And so she becomes an archer as good as, if not better than, Odysseus (Because come on, while Athena is the Goddess of war, Artemis' weapon is a bow) And people know this. She's scary good.

Much like Telemachus with Athena, Mini befriends Artemis.

So during God Games, Apollo is actually firmly on the Releasing Odysseus side, much to Athena's surprise. After all, hey, his sister likes his kid, might as well help her get her dad back. With this change, Athena doesn't get beat up as badly, because that's three gods (Apollo was like "lol isn't that your protégé's dad? Yeah, you should watch this") standing up to Zeus instead of one. They each receive a beating, but not as bad.

Also imagine like:

"Hey, Apollo—"

"It's Odysseus of Ithaca, right? That Odysseus?"

"Yes? I know he killed your Syrens, but listen—"

"Yeah, so mean of him. Anyway, release him."

"... What?"

"My sister is friends with his daughter."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

"Mmhmm. Bye now, you have others to convince."

Now, during The Challenge, the suitors are like "No, this is impossible, it's literally not possible, you're trying to trick us"

And the nineteen year old princess snorts, stands up, strings her father's bow and shoots through the axes cleanly. Then unstrings (?) the bow and puts it where it was.

"Dunno, seems very possible for me."

Later, during Hold Them Down, these bastards also plan to take her the same way they will her mother. Break her pride, they say. Put her in her place. A girl can't be better than them.

Odysseus is filled with pride for his daughter at the thought that she's so much better than them that it broke their egos. He's also filled with anger, logically.

Now, it is 108 men. What if they did manage to get Telemachus just a little before (not that he lasted less, just that it happened a little earlier), and Odysseus is in check, because fuck if he attacks they'll hurt his boy. He's seething with rage and trying to formulate a plan. He could take them, he absolutely could, but how will he do it without harming his son? Their eyes are all on him, he doesn't have the element of surprise anymore, he can't move quickly or they'll kill his son.

And then an arrow flies. And it's not his.

The arrow pierces the head of the man holding Telemachus, at the perfect angle that it doesn't harm the boy, and it comes from behind and slightly above.

Odysseus looks up, and he sees his own eye staring back at him, but she is much younger. And yes, I said eye, because she's wearing an eye patch. He doesn't think much of it because she's an archer, and some archers use an eye patch. Also, it's cool as heck, looks more like half a mask than an eye patch, with intricate designs and expanding over more than just her eye to her temple.

"Shit it's Mini!" "Where is she?"

Between the three of them, a close-range warrior, an archer, and a versatile, experienced warrior, the fight is over soon. You can't not turn your back on at least one of them, especially when Mini, just like her father moments before, hides in the darkness and shoots.

After they're all dead, she steps out of the shadows. And damn, she is his carbon copy.

Then you know, I Can't Help But Wonder is kinda different because it's not one child but two. Also, he finally gets to learn her name. And listen, Odysseus is fascinated by his children, because Telemachus is Penelope's copy and Mini is his. Down to the height, Telemachus is taller than Odysseus and Mini is almost his height.

After the reunions and all, family bonding is hard. He feels like Mini stares into his soul and it unnerves him, a little because he's used to being on the giving end of that look, and a little because she doesn't take off her eye patch. She changes it up, has many designs, some more like masks than patches, but is still always wearing one, and always has her bow and quiver on her person or next to her, which makes him feel like she's always on guard, which puts him on edge.

"Does she ever take the patch off?" he whispers to Telemachus

"No, hasn't for years."

Also, Argos is an old doggo but he's alive because I say so. Still, Mini has two Hunting Dogs because again, Artemis's protégé. Argos sticks by Telemachus and Odysseus, and her dogs are loyal only to her. They don't leave her side. They are big, like wolves. Artemis herself picked them for her. One black, one white. And they flank her at all times, it's certainly unnerving. They're not playful puppies, at least not to anyone but her and her Goddess.

"Did I... Do something? You're staring at me, Mini."

"Nah, she does that." her brother replies instead "Nothing personal. She doesn't like to talk much."

And yeah, she doesn't. But things are still a bit awkward between them, and he's not sure how to fix it. She seems to judge him. Sometimes she outright snarls at him if he suggests she lower her guard a little and take off her eyepatch/mask. They're no longer at war, the suitors are not a threat anymore, they're all safe. He made sure of it. And yet, the worst thing he could've done was try to take her mask off.

He got close to her, gave her a side hug, tried to be a dad. And everything was fine. And then he tilted her face up and she looked at him. She seemed relatively relaxed, but not fully.

"Kid, you can relax. I promise you're safe. You don't need to be battle ready all the time here, take it from me."

And he reached out to take off her mask. It was meant as an act of comfort, like Polities prying his sword off his hand when he was tired during the war. A sign that he'd take care of her and she could relax.

But she smacked his hand and pushed him away. She glared at him, one eye portraying the message just as well as two would. She took her bow and quiver and left without a word. She only came back before dinner (she left after breakfast), with fresh meat for their meal.

Her one visible eye (the left btw) glared at him the whole dinner, and, he felt damn uneasy, and she snarled at him when he tried to talk to her. Which wouldn't be all that intimidating if her dogs didn't snarl every time she did, baring their teeth and growling. Penelope and Telemachus, bless their hearts, tried to de-escalate the situation. Telemachus started talking about absolutely anything that came to mind and his sister's attention snapped to him and she relaxed slowly. She loved listening to her brother rant and be happy.

It went on for days. Eventually, she stopped glaring at him, didn't snarl at him anymore. But damn her dogs did. They didn't seem to like him, and he really didn't want to get into a fight with them, because either they'd rip off his arm or he'd kill them, and neither was a good option. She had them well trained, though, so as they growled at him, she only clicked her tongue and they quieted down.

With time and effort, he got her to relax a little more. Still, she never took off her mask/eyepatch. It still got on his nerves.

And then one night, as Telemachus was talking about his day, she relaxed so much she fell asleep.

Odysseus lifted his daughter in his arms, her dogs flanking him but not growling at him, just seemingly protecting her, as they always did.

He took her to her room and tucked her in. Now, he's a man who learns from his mistakes. He knew he shouldn't take her mask off, she wouldn't want him too. But today's mask was rather extravagant, and it probably would be quite uncomfortable to sleep with. So he took it off her face.

And he stumbled back, his breath knocked out of his lungs. Because his daughter had a trident scarred across her eye, starting at the bridge of her nose and diagonally across her eye. Her eyelid had been torn and sewn back together, but there was no question of it it had harmed her eye. It was purposeful, careful, designed. It was a mark. It was Poseidon's.

That bastard had blinded his daughter for blinding his son. An eye for an eye. It was a damn miracle he didn't take both her eyes, and that was probably because of Artemis. However, it did look a bit older than just his last confrontation. It must've been while he was in Calypso's island.

No wonder she was wary around him. She must know it was his fault that Poseidon partially blinded her.

Odysseus knelt beside her and took her hand. "Forgive me" he whispered. She didn't stir, but one of her dogs huffed at him, the other growled. And for once, he didn't try to calm it down. If it tore him up, he'd deserve it. He wouldn't fight it.

He fell asleep at the foot of his daughter's bed, her mask set beside him and her hand between his.

He woke up as she stirred. He was the lightest of sleepers after twenty years in danger. He thought Mini was just waking up, but she wasn't. She whimpered and thrashed. He didn't know what to do, should he comfort her? Wake her up?

Alkmene curled on her side and clawed at her scarred eye. One of her dogs got in between her arms and her face, preventing any more damage. Not for lack of trying, the girl whined and growled in pain, trying to claw at it, but the dog kept interfering. Her growls and whimpers turned into desperate gasps and growing screams of pain. A wound inflicted by a god likely hurt like new every once in a while. What could he do, if it wasn't even a nightmare. It wasn't that she was scared and he could comfort her, she was in pain so excruciating she wanted to claw it out. Her dogs protected her face, they didn't mind that it meant she clawed at them instead. He didn't know what to do.

The black dog locked its jaw around his wrist, firm but careful, it didn't even hurt, And it pulled his hand toward his daughter's face. Odysseus carefully pressed his palm against her eye, cringing at the texture of the scar. The pressure seemed to relieve the pain, however slightly. She still gasped for breath, but no longer screamed. She still tried to claw at her eye, but she only managed to scratch his hand and wrist, clawing so desperately that it broke his skin.

He welcomed the pain. A fraction of what he put her through, a fraction of the pain he's to blame for. A part of him hoped she tore his skin. A part of him hoped her dog would lock its jaw and puncture his arm, so he'd have the scars to remind him of his daughter's. So she wouldn't be alone in her pain tonight.

He stayed steady there for hours, pressing gently on her face. He memorized the feeling of her scar on his palm, jagged and rough, imperfect and cruel. He wished he could take it from her, he wished Poseidon had taken his eye instead.

Little after dawn, her eyes fluttered and he took away his hand. He had dried blood all over his wrist and hand, and she had it under he fingernails. He was nervous, terrified she'd hate him, terrified she already did.

Her eyes opened, and once again it knocked him off balance, seeing her right eye open but discolored. Broken. She stared at him for a minute and he bowed his head in shame.

"Telemachus can't know. He'll blame himself, think it should've been him." is the first thing she said, instead of the insults or reprimand he expected.

"Alkmene…"

"It's Mini. Listen, it's your fault. None of this would've happened if it weren't for you. So I was told. But I know you did your best with what you had. And you didn't know Poseidon would take my eye as revenge."

"He told me. When I came back, he said he'd take my son and take his eyes. I didn't think he already had."

"Yeah, couple years ago. I was alone in the coast, an easy target I suppose. It was meant to be my brother, but he settled for me. And hey, at least it works. I'm an archer. He did take my dominant eye, but I adapted. Archers don't need both eyes anyway."

"Damn you are too calm about this."

"Well, I mean, it's been years. I don't hate you for this. It's hard to hate someone who I only heard the best of stories about, and by the time you arrived, I'd come to terms with it. I was tense around you because you kept insisting I took my mask off, and I couldn't exactly tell you off without making it obvious that I was hiding something. So quit that and we're good."

"I'll never pressure you about it again."

"Good. I'm so glad we see eye to eye" she grinned

"Yeah, I didn't like coming in blind about you" he joked back despite himself. He didn't know if he had the right to. But she snorted, surprised by the pun.

"So I got my humor from you. I should've seen that one coming."

"we probably shouldn't joke about this, but I suppose I can turn a blind eye to it"

"come on, don't be blinded by your righteousness, this is fun."

"Yes, I suppose I shouldn't lose sight of fun"

All day, father and daughter exchanged bad blind puns, much to the confusion of Penelope and Telemachus. But hey, at least the tension between them had dissipated.

Odysseus saw his daughter in a new light. He caught all the small gestures she had that hinted at her partial blindness. He understood now the way she struggled with depth, often trying twice to reach something, and struggling to catch. He noticed her relationship with her dogs. They were more than just her pets and companions, they were her eyes, always alert and flanking her so she wouldn't need to be on guard, especially the one on her blind side. They prevented her from bumping into walls and furniture, even if it meant she bumped into them instead. He saw the way she startled slightly when Telemachus touched her unexpectedly or moved too fast.

Bonding with her became easier as the tension dissipated with bad jokes that had Telemachus smacking his head on the table, yet smiling.

And then he figured they could bond over archery, all of them. Penelope was good, a Spartan through and through. Telemachus was getting the hang of it, but he was better at close-range fighting. Odysseus enjoyed helping him out, fixing his form and aim.

He knew his daughter was a good archer, but he thought surely there would be some tips he could give her, with twice her experience. Or hey, at least he could show off a little. He took his bow and aimed. As his arrow flew, it was knocked off course and split by another. He looked up to see Mini hanging from a tree branch, a shit-eating grin on her face.

"What's the matter, old man? Can't land a shot?"

Odysseus huffed and fired again. Once again it was intercepted by another arrow.

"I thought you were an archer, My King." she mocked.

"I am, you little Winion!"

And for hours, they tried to one-up each other while Telemachus and Penelope watched fondly. They did all sorts of trickshots and they were generally pretty evenly matched, though their techniques were different. She was more fluid, she could aim while hanging upside down or while running, while he slowed down and had a more traditional technique.

Hunting was still very much her thing, though. When Odysseus and his children went to hunt, he and Telemachus went all Warrior Of The Mind, thinking of traps and strategies. While Mini just set her dogs free and her and her canines moved like a unit, rounding up prey. They were stealthy and the prey did not see it coming.

However, she was respectful. She didn't hunt more than necessary. It was a quick death and after reaching the prey she thanked it for the sacrifice. There was not a moment of fear or pain for the prey. It was the way of Artemis, the way of nature.

He had thought himself a great hunter, but of course the protégé of the Goddess of Hunting would put him to shame.

Y'all I think I summoned Lettuce??? Last Friday at school I saw a big ass bird in the distance (probably a vulture) and thought "nice, I imagine Lettuce from my Nature Boy AU is about that size. Can you imagine seeing a bird that size up close?"

And today at school I saw out the window and a FUCKING BIRD the size of my fucking arm was flying straight for my classroom's window! And it wasn't a volture, the neck didn't look like it, I'm fairly confident it was a raven. Flying straight for my damn class! It flew up last second though and NO ONE ELSE FUCKING SAW IT because like good students they were looking ahead instead of out the windows.

Dude if I befriend it I'm calling it Lettuce, no joke. Doubt it'll happen but damn.

Well now I wanna write a lil something :c

happy deathday to my baby boy😢sorry I'm late again.

update, apparently my heart stopped for about eight seconds. Looks like all those times I fainted were actually tiny little heart attacks.

That is... Creepy

But good news, this is the only type out of five that has treatment. Not cure, but treatment. So. Uh. Good?

I'm so goddamn freaked out

‏Dear friend,

‏I’m AbdAlhadi from Gaza. My family and I have lost everything—our home, work, and security. We now live in a tent, struggling daily.

‏Please share our story. Your voice could connect us to those who can help.

‏Thank you,

🍉AbdAlhadi

If anyone can help, please do. This is not a war, it's a genocide. Cease fire and free Palestine 🍉

And Tim got a copy from Talia as soon as he found out, back when he was in the League looking for Bruce. Now he has them printed and hidden away, but deleted from any of his electronics so they can't hack them and are forced to go through him.

The question is, are Bruce and Dick willing to owe him every favor he will ever ask and their undying loyalty? Are they willing to go down the villain path if he ever does, no questions asked?

Velcro baby Damian

Yesterday I ate a burger.

This is important, because it's like my #1 fearfood. I'm autistic and have ARFID, and burgers are my most hated, can't-stand-it food.

But I also have severe anemia, so I for some reason craved it.

I ate 2/3 before feeling like if I ate another bite, I'd puke.

I tried to give it a chance, hoped maybe I'd like it now. I did not. It's disgusting.

And also, as it turns out it had bacon jelly and I'm allergic to bacon so now yesterday and today I've felt awful.

Very proud of myself for trying, though.

Nope, I love Timmy. He's getting adopted definitely. Besides, gotta love Tim adopting Jason as his brother. Like a little duckling (or a drake ;) ) imprinting on him.

Hear me out. Secret magic user Jason Todd, except it's a secret to him too. Like, Nature Witch potential.

When he was little, out on the streets, people died from the elements, left and right. In Gotham, it always rained. It was hard to light a fire when the things you were trying to light were wet. So during the colder months, the homeless population tended to go down— hypothermia's a bitch.

But Jason somehow always managed to light a fire. He gathered newspapers, even if they were wet, rolled them up and made a little campfire, just like other homeless people. Except they took care to gather the dry ones, and Jason just... Didn't care. While others struggled to get it to light, he always got it on the first try.

And see, he should probably notice something's odd there, but this started when he was little and lacked the common sense that, you know, wet things shouldn't light up. It had started when his apartment didn't have heating and it was cold, so he made a makeshift campfire in the sink so he could extinguish the flame later, and somehow his parents didn't bother to question it. And then, well, if it had worked before, it should work now, right? He never realized that it wasn't exactly normal.

And he didn't realize that rain should put it out. Sure, he tried to do it on a covered spot because he didn't particularly enjoy being soaked, but he didn't realize that fire doesn't enjoy being soaked, either, and when he is unable to find a cover, he seeks warmth from his fire. Under the rain, no matter how heavy.

And it's not like he's using gasoline or oil. Nothing special. He's just using newspaper and a cool lighter he found that should've run out ages ago. He's been using the same lighter for years (it did run out— it never lights up for anyone else, but he attributes it to the pressure he's mastered. Not that he lends it much). He jokes that his trusty lighter is picky and loyal. He loves his cool-as-fuck dragon lighter as much as it loves him. It's red, black and gold and he loves it. He keeps it in an inside pocket of his jacket, right above his heart, and on cold nights it seems to heat up wonderfully.

Sometimes when it's snowing, he finds he's not all that bothered by it. Then again, he has no point of reference. Maybe that's how everyone feels? Or maybe he has a damn good jacket, plus his lighter is warm.

He also finds snowballs are too easy to form. He doesn't even need to form them, really, he grabs a fistful and when he throws it, instead of, you know, a fistful of snow, it's a perfectly round snowball. Also, if he intends it as a weapon (say, to escape the police or a criminal), it seems to do far more damage than friendly throws. He attributes it to the strength of the throw (it's not)

This little shit can walk through a storm, or a blizzard, or strong-ass winds from a hurricane, and he's fine. He can walk easily through weather where even Batman stays in for.

There's an apple tree in a park, it's very tall and very hard/impossible to climb. The lower apples may be collected if you have a ladder, but the upper ones are usually just bird food until they fall, hardly ever in one piece. And yet, if Jason is hungry and passes under it, any apple the tree has to offer falls near him, enough to be caught, perfectly ripe and whole.

There's a raven that always steals his lettuce. If he gets a sandwich, the raven comes down and bothers him until he gives her the lettuce. If he gets a salad, she comes down and settles with him and steals the lettuce from his fork, but lets him eat anything else in it. It works, because lettuce makes him itchy (is it supposed to be spicy?) and while he can eat small quantities, he prefers to give them to Lettuce (not very original, but it works) unless he's really starving.

Lettuce wakes him up at dawn every day. No matter where he hides away for the night, she finds him in the morning, and comes and goes throughout the day. They each do their own thing, but she sticks relatively close, and if he's in danger, she protects him. With patience and a lot of boredom, and lots of time together, Jason and Lettuce have developed a call between them, a birdcall they both can mimic and respond to. And if Jason is in danger, he'll call for Lettuce loudly, and it takes no time before she flies in, attacking whoever is threatening him. This is of course more effective during the day, because Ravens are diurnal. However, if she happens to be sleeping close enough to hear him at night, she'll wake up and call back, and Jason will repeat the call and she'll find him. She has blinded many people, including but not limited to cops (it's always creepy afterwards, watching her eat the eyes of his attackers, but he's grown numb to it)

Lettuce is his best friend, his partner in crime. She helps him steal, be it food, money or objects. It's mutually beneficial, see. He couldn't be more unafraid of bugs and rodents. He calls her over and they're being eaten the next moment. And he shares a lot of space with bugs and rodents. It's only at night that he needs to worry about them, once Lettuce goes to sleep. It's much easier to take care of yourself only at night than it is 24/7. Besides, while Lettuce wakes him up early, she lets him take a nap later on if he needs it, while she keeps guard. They're family.

When he got adopted, he worried he'd miss his feathered friend, being unable to spend as much time together. He underestimated her.

He woke up at dawn, habit unbroken, but went right back to sleep, feeling the absence of his loyal friend. And a few hours later, he was woken up again by a pounding on his window and angry croaking. He looked over to find his big-as-fuck bird repeatedly slamming against the window, talons first so she wouldn't get hurt. He rushed to open the window for her immediately, a grin on his face.

"Lettie!" he greeted happily. She greeted him angrily, instead, pecking his shoulder, however careful, and tugging on his hair. She'd been so worried when she couldn't find him! "I know, I know, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to dissappear on you, girl. But hey, I'm safe, promise!"

Now, listen, Ravens can reach a length of up to 66 cm (26 inches) and have a wingspan of more than 1.3 metres (4 feet). These are big birds, ok? So imagine Alfred's surprise when he saw Jason walking down the hallway, all good there, but with a massive raven flying above him.

Naturally, he assumed that the bird got in, at first. He was amazed by the sheer size of the bird, not having seen one so big from this distance. And then the raven descended towards Jason, talons out, and he was about to tell the boy to duck, because he though the bird was about to attack his head, and then the bird just landed on his shoulder.

"Ow! Bitch, mind your talons, they do hurt, you know?" he complained playfully, and the bird croaked back. Even to Alfred's ears it sounded amused. She clicked her beak, Jason clicked his teeth, and they seemed to argue playfully like that, as Alfred watched from behind them, unnoticed. Evidently, the bird won the argument, because Jason looked away and huffed "Ass", and she let out what sounded very much like a laugh.

"No, I hate you. So much" Jason scoffed, a blatant lie, his lips twitching into a smile. She cawed, fondly, like saying "no, you don't", and tugged gently on a strand of Jason's hair.

"No, I really do. Bossy bitch" he said, his voice lacking any bite. He leaned in, resting his head against her body carefully. She started preening his hair lovingly, almost motherly, and he let his eyes flutter closed as she pulled him closer with a wing. "Fine, maybe I love you. Just a little bit. Big dumb bird."

When he walked into the dining room, Bruce and Dick stared at him. Or rather, at her, perched on his shoulder, preening his hair and leaving it a mess, a wing around the back of his head. She paused, analyzing them too, but took note of Jason's relaxed demeanor around them. Not a threat, then.

"Jason... That's a big crow." Dick breathed out.

"A raven. Same family, different birds." Jason corrected, and the bird croaked, agreeing.

"Raven or crow, both are wild birds, Jason. That's not a parrot you can keep as a pet." Bruce intervened, eying the bird wearily "it's a predatory bird, that can and will turn on you in the blink of an eye if it wants. It's a dangerous bird. Not to mention it's illegal to keep them as pets"

"Well, good thing she is not a pet, then. She's a friend that chooses to stay by my side because she loves me and it's a beneficial agreement. And I'm aware of her potential. I've watched her eat human eyes—"

"You've what?"

"—but to be fair, they deserved it. She won't hurt you unless you hurt me."

"Hold on, circle back to that about eating human eyes"

"If you see people without eyes near Park Row, or blind former cops, that's us. They tried to attack me, she attacked them. I gave them plenty of warning, mind you."

"Wait, didn't Officer Johnson lose his eyes recently, Bruce? Commissioner Gordon was losing his mind because Johnson took lots of shifts."

"Johnson, Johnson..." Jason ran the most recent officers through his mind, trying to see if he remembered a name, but he didn't exactly stop to chat.

"Blond hair, 5'9, short beard, nasty scar on his—"

"—Right arm! Yes, I remember that one. He beat up another kid and then chased me, I told him to get lost and even decked him, but he wouldn't stop. Nearly crushed my wrist, that bitch. Then Lette flew in and—" Lettuce snapped her beak and puffed her feathers proudly "Yeah, that was us, but I did give him plenty of chances."

That did not make Bruce feel better about having this bird in his house, near his boys. There had been plenty of cops though the years that lost their eyes, it was driving Gordon mad. True, none of them were good cops, but still.

However, he could recognize as he watched his newest son and the bird communicate with various sounds, working as one, with evident years of teamwork, that sending the bird away to a sanctuary was not an option, and nothing short of the death of either of them would separate them, so he compromised. The bird would stay, as long as she proved healthy and didn't attack anyone.

Now on another note, Jason proved undefeatable in a snow fight

Somehow, no matter how good their aim was, or how hard they threw it, the snowballs either missed him, falling a few feet short of reaching him, or they hit him very softly. He never made any noise, like the snow didn't crush under his feet, and he always stayed on top instead of his feet sinking into it. And his snowballs always hit damn hard and accurate— unless he was only intending to get your attention, in which case it barely brushed you.

Patrolling on snowy days also proved easy. Bruce and Dick were in no way noisy, but the snow did slow them down and crushed under their feet, and they left footprints that left them easy to follow.

Jason didn't.

He somehow walked on top of the snow without leaving prints. The snow didn't crush, didn't make any noise at all, and he didn't slip on it either. It was as easy, maybe more so, for him to patrol on heavy snow than normal nights. Same with storms. Batman and Nightwing had to be careful to not slip when it was raining, and extra mindful of their movements so the splashing didn't give them away, while Jason could run or jump without making a sound or slipping even once.

"Practice" he said, "I've lived in the streets, I grew used to it, I guess."

He was a strange Robin.

The first time he met Poison Ivy, she had been particularly aggressive. And then she caught sight of the new Bird. And she stopped. She'd had the upper hand, Batman unconscious and trapped, Nightwing in Blüdhaven. She could've won. And Jason knew that, but he'd be dammed if he went down without a fight.

"Who are you?" she whispered, awe in her voice.

"I'm Robin." he answered simply, standing with a confidence he didn't feel.

"I see that. It's not what I meant. Who are you?"

"What, you think I'll give you my identity so easily? No way!"

"I didn't mean that, either. Who are you?"

"Listen, lady, I don't know what you want. Are you hard of hearing? Do you need me to use ASL? I mean, sure, if you want. I ain't ableist." Jason shrugged and actually started signing his words "I'm gonna need you to let Batman go."

"I am not hard of hearing, but I appreciate the inclusion anyway." Ivy smiled, and carefully laid Batman on the ground, much to Jason's surprise.

"Huh. That was easy."

"Listen, kid. If you ever need a mentor..."

"I'm with the Bat."

"Not what I meant. I can help you in ways he can't."

"I'll pass."

"Very well. The offer is on the table, if you ever change your mind, you can find me. Tomorrow or in twenty years, I don't care. I can guide you. I can help you."

And surprisingly, she handed herself in, giving the new Robin a smile. He kept her words a secret, confused. Weird woman, he thought.

And then, a few months later, he found his mother wasn't who he thought. And he looked for his mother. And he found her and was sold out by her. Bruce searched for him desperately, with Lettuce on his shoulder ("A promise", he'd said as he instructed Lettuce to stay with Bruce, "so you know I'll come back to you. So you know you're my family, even if I still have a mother. I'll be back, Dad"). But Joker had him.

But see, magic tends to wake up when the user is in danger.

So as Joker beat the boy, as fear beat in his heart, so did his magic. Barely conscious, beaten, bruised, but alive, the little Bird was underestimated.

"I'll say hi to your daddy for you." Joker said, planting the bomb.

And Jason realized he wouldn't be coming home. He realized Lettuce would never wake him up at dawn again. He realized Dick would never hug him again. He realized Bruce would never ruffle his hair again. He realized he'd never play with them in the snow again. He realized he'd break his promise.

And he screamed.

The warehouse went up in flames before Joker could leave. Far before the bomb went off. All-consuming flames that rose around him like the depths of hell, but caressed him like the touch of a loving mother, like Sheila never would. He heard the screams of Joker, just like his before. The flames enveloped Jason's broken body and pain overwhelmed him as his most broken bones snapped into place. He sobbed.

And then came the water. As his tear hit the flames, red turned into blue in a flood that put the fire out. Jason saw his blood seep into the water, red dissolving into the clear liquid. His wounds, the most severe at least, closing into scars. Jason saw the body of Joker floating on the water, charred and barely recognizable.

And then he saw hers. Sheila's body, still restrained, at the bottom of the water, skin melted by the fire. And she may have sold him off to Joker, he may never be able to forgive her, but still, he sinked to her, praying for her to be alive.

But Magic protects Her loved ones, and Magic doesn't forgive all that easy. She deemed Sheila unworthy of her favor. She was the reason Her Child was in such a situation, and as such, she earned Her wrath.

Jason reached for his mother, but as he touched her, the water evaporated. He carried her body out of the warehouse, no pulse to be found. He stared, a third parent dead. But was she really ever a mother? He reached down and closed her eyes. And vines sprouted from the ground, covering her body like a coffin. Jason knew this was her burial. His fingers traced over her covered body as he said his goodbyes, and then watched as she sinked down, down, down, into the earth, disappearing six feet under.

Jason looked down at himself, still wounded but not nearly as much. He took off his gloves as he felt his right hand burn, and he watched as the mark of a vine engraved itself into his skin, spiraling from his palm, the back of his hand, his wrist, all the way to his elbow. The mark shone green for a second before it settled with an bright silver color.

He heard a familiar caw and panicked. Because Lettuce meant Bruce, and Bruce meant Batman, and Batman didn't like metas in Gotham. And apparently he was a meta, right? Just like Poison Ivy.

He put his glove back on and searched his utility belt for a bandage, which he wrapped around his forearm, hiding his mark.

And then he called to Lettuce. And he heard her respond, louder, happy, worried, hopeful. He called again, and soon she was flying to him, Bruce running right behind her.

Bruce didn't understand what had happened, what happened to the warehouse, to Joker. To his son. But he didn't care. He was there, he was safe.

He checked his son for injuries, and he was quite hurt, but not as much as he could've been. Broken bones, bleeding wounds. Bruised, broken, scared. But safe.

And Jason let him assume that was as badly as he was hurt, let him believe Joker didn't beat him to death's doorstep. Because if he told him, he'd have to tell him how he healed.

The rest of his injuries healed normally at home, but Jason didn't let them see his right arm.

Dick, Bruce and Jason assumed maybe Joker had marked him. It wasn't uncommon to mark victims in some way. They wanted to help, but if they pressed about it, Jason would run out for an hour or two. So they let him. Jason always wore long sleeves and gloves, or a bandage on his arm, even when he slept. It became part of his style, just like the white stripe on his hair from where his head was split open.

But see, once awakened, his magic refused to lie dormant again. It buzzed and ached for release. And it seeped out of him with his every breath.

And it terrified him.

He lived with the world's greatest detectives. They were bound to notice the flames flaring when he walked into the room, be it candles or the fireplace. They were bound to notice the wind picking up unnaturally indoors. They were bound to notice his glass of water moving with unnatural waves.

So he ran out when he felt the call more active and let it explode. The plants deep into the Wayne Estate wildest part had never been greener. Plants that shouldn't bloom in there were growing. It was as easy as breathing, letting it flow. The problem was controlling it.

Jason felt like a baby learning to use the restroom. Doing it was instinctual, natural. A reflex. But holding it in was a challenge. The thing is, there were no diapers for magic. And he couldn't let anyone find out.

This is part one, I'll come back another day with how Tim comes into the picture, because duh, Jason didn't die