Dc Jason Todd - Blog Posts

Unintentional Stalker Tim Drake AU

I love the interactions where Tim is his canonical weirdo fanboy self, but consider the idea that he never meant to stalk the bats.

Tim’s parents are gone, away on another dig, and Tim decides that instead of sitting in the quiet manor again, alone with only his TV to keep him company, he would grab his camera and take aesthetic photos of nighttime Gotham.

He’s quiet as he looks for a good spot to take his first photos, and when he finds a cool angle of a building against the setting sun he takes a photo.

He did not expect to see Batman and Robin mid jump between rooftops.

He quickly looked up from the photo, but any sign of the bats having been there are gone. Tim’s slightly disappointed, but decides to head home early, not wanting to risk being caught out alone.

The next night, he returns to the streets, camera slung around his neck and heading in the opposite direction of where he last saw the vigilantes. He sees a cool reflection of the moon being framed by a street lamp, and with the click of a button he takes the photo.

He again captured Batman and Robin, this time grappling in the distance, their silhouettes obvious against the light of the moon. When Tim looked up from the picture, they were gone.

Awe aside, he’s getting annoyed that the two masked crusaders keep photobombing his pictures. He walks down a few streets, climbs a tree, and takes a landscape photograph. Almost hesitant, Tim looks at the result.

Robin is chasing a low level gang member across the street.

This keeps happening: Tim goes out into Gotham’s night in an attempt to take photos of the city, and every time time Batman and Robin- sometimes just one of them sometimes both- unintentionally fall into the camera’s path as Tim snaps a photo.

In the background of his photos he’s captured Batman scolding Robin, the duo eating ice cream, Robin trying to walk on a power line, and even a couple of their fights with some of the rogues, along with many more photos.

On one particular night, as Tim gets his camera to focus against a satellite dish against the sky, he sees Robin do a quadruple somersault.

Tim is quickly able to figure out their identities like in canon, and when Jason comes in to take over the Robin mantle, Tim discovers his identity too with little to no problem.

Tim keeps up with his photo shoots, not nearly as annoyed of the photobombs as he used to be but refusing to give up until he has one clean shot of just the city and nothing else.

When Jason dies, and Tim sees Bruce dishing out broken bones and ICU visits to everyday thugs, he knows he’s got to do something. After all, they’ve been entwined longer than the bats know.

There goes Jaybird

He looks dead, that was my intention yeah

My spine didn't try to leave my body this time, win

I might use this. Oh my god. I’m going to use this for my Damian and Tim time travel thing.

Red Hood comes back and everything's the same except Bruce doesn't realise that while Jason's still pissed at him, it's more of a familial feud than it is a genuine casting himself away from the family forever. Jason's under the impression that what's going on between him and B is just normal teenage rebellion- after all, Dick basically did the same shit when they were younger, he remembers sitting on top of the stairs and listening to the arguments, hell he remembers eating popcorn while stood in the middle of a couple of them. they're a family of fucked up vigilantes, it makes sense to him that their father-son brawls are just as dramatic as the rest of their lives.

after the rooftop showdown where Bruce saves the Joker he gets into the batmobile, slightly depressed that he has to go back home and tell Alfred that he failed oh so spectacularly at convincing Jason to come home and probably actually made things a 100% worse and oh god when he finds out about the batarang-

Red Hood opens the passenger door and gets into the car

Jason: jesus christ B are you THAT fucking stubborn? YOU ALMOST DECAPITATED ME WITH THAT THING

Bruce:

Jason: whatever. actually, don't fucking talk to me. I'm not continuing this until next patrol where trust me I WILL be shooting you in the neck.

Bruce: ...w-

Jason: CAN YOU HURRY UP AND FUCKING DRIVE ALREADY? Jesus it's fucking freezing out and the heater isn't even on!

Bruce has absolutely no fucking clue what's going on. He continues to stare in the very rare Batman Bafflement that only his kids have ever managed to get out of him.

Is Jason... coming home with him?

He's so shocked at the sudden turn of events, so scared of flinching slightly in the wrong direction and ruining whatever the fuck convinced his son to actually get in the car with him, that he decides in a moment of pure panic to not question it. He turns the car on, silently turns on the heater, and proceeds to white knuckle the steering wheel and stiffly drive back to the manor, terrified that even breathing too loud will disrupt the way the Red Hood is spitefully messing with the radio station until it's playing Bruce's least favourite station at a way-too-loud volume.

when they get home Jason flips Bruce off and goes straight to the kitchen, dishing himself up some food from the dinner table with a couple of casual greeting grunts as if everyone isn't staring at him in shock and awe. Bruce comes in behind him and shrugs helplessly. Dick's face has gone white, and he's clutching his glass so hard it's started to splinter in his hands. Tim's the only person who manages to get past it all, blinking up at Jason's massive hulking frame.

Tim: I thought you hated us now

Jason: *eating, gives a questioning hum*

Tim: you keep fighting with Batman

Jason: yeah, fuck batman. I'm so pissed at him right now

Bruce: h-

Jason: Shut the fuck up I'm still mad at you.

Jason, to Tim: it's family tradition to hate Bruce and strike out on your own. Doesn't mean I shouldn't be allowed Alfie's impeccable cooking.

Tim:

Tim: ...you also tried to kill me

Jason: you replaced me as Robin. an attempt on your life is also family tradition. Dick tried to kill me a month after I took up the mantle

Tim:

Dick, so exasperated it breaks him out of his shock: oh come on, it was not a murder attempt-

Jason, slamming his fist on the table: I HAVE A PEANUT ALLERGY AND YOU TRIED TO FEED ME A SNICKERS BAR!

Dick: FOR THE LAST TIME I DIDN'T KNOW-

Bruce, desperate: boys-

Jason, whirling around: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT TALKING TO ME?

Bruce:

Jason: oh that reminds me. hey Alfred? guess what B did like twenty minutes ago.

Alfred: ..?

Bruce: Jaylad please-

Jason: he threw a batarang at my neck.

Alfred:

Bruce:

Alfred: master Bruce-

Bruce quite honestly would have preferred it if Jason was a villain instead of a rebellious teen.

Would You Fall In Love With Me Again?

synopsis; no matter what he did, he would always be the kid you knew from crime alley. (UTRH jason todd x fem!reader) wc; 2.5k

cw; angst, happy ending, mention of dismemberment, mentions of violence, brief mentions of stabbing, brief and possibly incorrect descriptions of first aid, heavily based on would you fall in love with me again by jorge rivera-herrans from epic the musical

a/n; this man has been on my mind lately and the song was stuck in my head so this stems from that, enjoy.

don't use, copy or steal my works.

is it you? have my prayers been answered? 

is it really you standing there, or am i dreaming once more?

“jason?” the name leaves your lips in shock, you never thought you’d see him again, only in your dreams if you were lucky.

you look different, your eyes look tired.

your frame is lighter, your smile torn.

the man in front of you holds barely any resemblance to the child you once knew. his eyes, although tired, are darker and sharper, a hint of recognition in them. his stature is bigger, muscles filling out his frame and he’s grown taller. there’s a broken smile on his lips and it doesn’t reach his eyes.

is it really you, my love?

jason’s been back from the dead for almost six years now, and he’s been back in gotham for two of them. it’s been a year since he worked his way to the top of the crime syndicate as the red hood and enacted his revenge on bruce.

he would catch glimpses of you throughout that time, not necessarily stalking you, but just wanting to keep an eye out, make sure you were okay. this would be the first time he speaks to you since coming back.

i am not the man you fell in love with.

i am not the man you once adored.

“can i come in?” his voice is deep, it no longer carries that light whimsy tone it did when he was a child. the sound of it both scares and comforts you, he’s grown into a man. but at what cost?

you let him in and lead the way to the kitchen where you nervously begin to make a calming lavender tea.

“i’m dreaming again, aren’t i? there’s no way you’re actually in my kitchen right now.” you mutter while shaking your head as if to force the dream away.

“you’re not dreaming, i’m real.” his voice startles you again, you just stare at his hulking frame as he sits in a chair at your table eyeing the way you flit around nervously.

“if this is real.. if i’m not dreaming, what’s something only you would know?” you’re skeptical, jason realizes, and you have every right to be. the whole of gotham knew he was dead. bruce wayne’s second son, dead in an accident, little did anyone truly know.

i am not your kind and gentle husband.

and i am not the love you knew before.

he scoffs as you sit across from him, two mugs filled with tea sit on the table's surface, one in front of each of you. of course you’d be the one to ask him to prove it. you were never one to take things at face value, perks of growing up in crime alley.

“we had our first kiss behind the giant penny in the bat cave, the night you discovered bruce and i were batman and robin.” he watches your hand flex, fingers tapping an unknown rhythm on the table as you consider his words.

“how old were we?” you fire back, he seems so confident and you want to believe it’s him but you have to be sure.

“i was fifteen, you were a week shy of being fourteen. i died a year later.” you wince at the harsh way he speaks but nod nonetheless.

“how old are you now?” you know he’s aged since he’s bigger now, you just want to know if he’s still a year older than you.

“twenty-two.” his answer confirms that he is.

would you fall in love with me again,

if you knew all i’ve done?

the next hour passes by with him catching you up on everything. how he died, how he came back, what he’s been doing since coming back. you stopped drinking your tea once he mentioned severed heads.

he speaks casually, as if he’s not bothered by any of this, but you know him enough to know when he’s faking, at least you used to. you can detect the hurt and anger hidden behind his words and actions, you were pretty upset yourself when you found out bruce wasn’t going to do anything about the joker. you cried over jason for months.

the things i cannot change,

would you love me all the same?

silence fills the air around you after jason finishes his story, you moved from the table to the balcony halfway through, and now you sit on the couch. your legs are pulled to your chest as you lean against the armrest and peer at jason from lidded eyes. 

he sits facing the dark screen of the tv, legs manspread and an arm hooked over the back of the couch, the other rests at his side.

“you know, we never actually broke up.” you mentally facepalm as the words leave your mouth, why in the hell would you say something stupid like that? 

your cheeks flame up as jason bursts out laughing, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest that filters throughout his entire body. the couch shakes slightly from the vibrations of his body as he tosses his head back. the sound of his laughter and the sight of him makes you chuckle in turn. you laugh together for a bit until his next sentence has reality crashing in again.

“yeah cause i fucking died y/n.”

“well i’m sorry you’ll have to forgive my heartbroken depressed fifteen year old self for assuming since neither of us said the words ‘i’m breaking up with you’ that meant we were still together even if you were dead.” you grumble and use your hands to showcase air quotes.

“please tell me you haven’t spent the last six years thinking we’re still together.” he’s looking at you now, trying to gauge your reaction while waiting for your response.

“i grew out of that at sixteen, so only a year really. i’ve dated here and there, but most didn’t last long. there was one guy who lasted longer than the rest, but even that fizzled out pretty quick.” you explained with a shrug and watched as the tension left his shoulders, his body sinking into the cushions behind him.

“why didn’t they last?” you tilt your head back to look at your ceiling and inhale deeply at his question.

“i was just too in love with my dead boyfriend to move on with anybody else.”

i know that you’ve been waiting, waiting for love.

it’s been a couple months since the day jason showed up at your door, you talk everyday, whether he calls or texts you. he visits when he can, if he’s not patrolling as red hood. his relationship with bruce is still rocky, but slowly mending. you’ve started visiting the manor again, alfred appreciates your company and the atmosphere you bring with you while you’re there.

your dead boyfriend isn’t so dead anymore, and there’s something unspoken between the two of you now. jason has his own apartment, though you aren’t sure how since he’s still legally dead, bruce is apparently working on rectifying that. despite having his own place, he spends a lot of time at yours, and it only adds to your ever growing confusion.

unbeknownst to you, jason isn’t faring much better. he has trouble sleeping because of the nightmares, but lately when he does sleep, all he can think about is you. you’ve told him time and again that you don’t care what he’s done as a crime lord, that all you care about is the fact that he’s alive and back in your life. he’s paranoid that this is some awful trick his mind is playing on him.

he’s supposed to crash at your place tonight, hopefully he can control himself around you.

would you fall in love with me again,

if you knew all i’ve done?

the things i can’t undo,

i am not the man you knew.

you’re both laying across the couch, your body atop his, legs intertwined with his, and his arms around your waist while you both watch tv. some random horror movie playing that neither of you are really paying attention to, too caught up in your thoughts and each other.

that unspoken something hangs tensely in the air as your head rests on his chest, fingers tracing inconsequential shapes and patterns on his side. his eyes are closed and it heightens the feeling of your body against his.

“so… are we going to talk about it?” your voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he sighs heavily. he knows you’re talking about the unspoken thing that’s wrapped itself around you two like a thick blanket in the cold winter months, but he doesn’t think spring has arrived yet and he’s not quite ready to leave the comfort and safety of the blanket.

“i guess not.” you answer your own question after several minutes of nothing coming from him aside that first heavy sigh. his body tenses as you push yourself off him and stand away from the couch. he sits up once you turn off the tv, eyes finding yours in the dimly lit living room of your apartment.

“i’m sorry.” it’s the first thing he’s said since before the start of the movie and it’s your turn to sigh deeply while your shoulders sag as you stand in front of him.

“it’s fine jay, i’m going to bed.” it’s too early for you to be going to bed and you both know it, but your statement is said with such finality that he doesn’t try to argue. he only sighs as he watches you walk away to your bedroom, before throwing his head back with a heavy groan, knowing he’s sleeping on the couch alone tonight.

i know that you’ve been waiting, waiting,

after that night, jason distances himself. he’s hoping that some time apart will help him get his shit together and figure things out before he loses you completely. bruce, alfred, and dick all think he’s being an idiot, and honestly? he’s starting to think the same.

three months have passed since that night, and jason can count the number of times he’s seen you on both hands. the distance hasn’t done anything other than make him yearn for you more and wish to be by your side.

he doesn’t realize he’s left the comfort of the thick winter blanket until the night he crash lands on your balcony, bleeding out from a stab wound he got while fighting some goons with batman. he knocks only once before you’re pulling open the door and tugging him into your apartment.

“bruce called me when you disappeared after the fight, said you might’ve gotten hurt and to be expecting you.” you explain once you notice his head tilting in confusion. you help him onto the towel covered couch, a first aid kit and a bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table.

he takes off his helmet and the domino mask he had on underneath before letting you help him remove his jacket and pull up his shirt. the stab wound is on the left side of his stomach, no vital organs were hit but he will need stitches.

you work in silence, cleaning up the wound and the area around it with alcohol wipes from the first aid kit before stitching him up and covering them up with bandages. you give him the bottle of whiskey while cleaning up the mess on the coffee table and floor.

a flash of something catches his gaze, his eye zoning in on your throat, his breath hitching as he recognizes what it is. it’s the last thing he stole before bruce took him in when he was eleven, a necklace that he gave you for your tenth birthday. a silver chain holding a pendant the color of his eyes.

‘so that you’ll always have a piece of me close to your heart.’ is what he said when he gave it to you.

“i didn’t know you still had that.” his voice comes out hoarse from lack of use and your eyes flick to him in confusion before following his gaze to the pendant that rests at the bottom of your throat, just above where your heart would be.

“oh yeah, i still have a lot of the things you’ve given me but this one is my favorite.” you replied as you grabbed the pendant in one hand.

a symbol of our love everlasting.

jason knew what he had to do, but he just couldn’t find the words to use. he’s lying in your bed on his back, your head on his chest, body pressed against his injury free side as his arms are encircling you. 

he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to being this close to you, his paranoid mind is giving him anxiety, making him think this is just another nightmare.

“how could you possibly care about me still? i’m a murderer, a monster.” the words leave his mouth before he has time to second guess them, your hand stops the tracing of shapes and instead rests palm down on his stomach.

“jay you’re not a monster, you’re a traumatized kid. the same one that saved me from getting bullied back in crime alley, the same kid who would make sure i was fed even if you were also starving. the same kid who brought me along with him after he got adopted by the richest man in the city.” you look up at him now, chin resting on his chest as he tilts his gaze down to meet yours.

i will fall in love with you over and over again,

i don’t care how, where, or when.

no matter how long it’s been, you’re mine,

don’t tell me you’re not the same person.

“no matter what you do, you’re still that same kid i knew from crime alley. my dead boyfriend who i’m just too in love with.”

i’ve been waiting, waiting,

waiting, waiting,

waiting, waiting,

waiting, oh,

for you.

“well i’m not dead anymore.” he chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“yeah but according to you, you’re not my boyfriend anymore either.” you don’t even get the chance to laugh before he’s cupping your chin and pulling you up for a passionate long overdue kiss.

lips connecting with yours roughly as his hand slides to your throat, tongue pushing its way into your mouth. gasping, your body presses against him, hand clutching his side. 

he pulls away wincing and you quickly apologize, having forgotten his stab wound. but he merely shakes his head and presses another kiss to your lips.

“you’re still jason todd to me, the kid from crime alley.” you smile resting your head on his chest again.

“i know.” he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“and you wanna know something else?” you start tracing random shapes and patterns again.

“what?” he asks, relaxing his body into yours while sighing happily.

“i love you.”

An old sketch of Damian Wayne and Jason Todd ofc ofc. Damian has always been one of my favorite dc characters (next to Bart!! ik. drastic difference), but I never draw him (or Bart but I'll fix that dw).

I always like it when these two get along. They are like opposite sides of the same coin to me.

Drawn Nov 5, 2020 (prob the oldest art piece that I'll repost lol).

This was in my queue but I'm posting it early bc why not?

So my Batfamily brain rot is back (not that it ever really left) and I just had a thought like…

If you’re a henchman/criminal in Gotham, seeing your life flash past your eyes is gonna be a somewhat regular occurance but… what if like… the thing that truly made a henchman’s heart fall to his ass was when they hit Robin just a little too hard and this 10 year old kid just starts crying and goes ‘Daaaaaadddd!’

That’s the moment when they truly think they’re going to die because said dad, the kid is calling for is a 6’6 demon from hell who’s all muscle and shadows and vengance and a lot of Gotham still thinks he’s a cryptid

The henchmen all drop their guns and try to calm the kid down but it’s over in 5 seconds flat. Batman breaks several bones before speaking to Robin in the softest voice they’ve ever heard him use and the criminal world, who was already a bit hesitant to fight a kid have even more reason to take it just a little easy on Robin.

And like, I can picture different reactions with every Robin.

Like, for Dick, he’s ten and we all know he was the most violent Robin second only to Damian so maybe when he’s ten or eleven and has calmed down a little, a henchback who still remembers what a little shit he used to be decides to get back at Robin, slips on a pair of brass knuckles and BAM

And then, little Dick just stares for a moment in shock, cheek already starting to bruise, the criminals he’d been fighting all stay still because it was a nasty punch and then…

“Daaaaad!!!” He cries out in a whiny voice that reminds them that Robin really is just a kid and it all clicks into place.

Even Bruce wasn’t expecting that, Dick has just started calling him dad and he still isn’t used to being called that so to hear his kid calling for him in the moment where he is startled and hurt and a little scared… the henchmen don’t even have time to react and they wake up in the hospital with concussions and maybe a few broken bones.

It doesn’t take Dick long to calm down, it was mostly that the hit from a random henchmen really startled him and got him right in the cheekbone. But Bruce still finishes patrol early and Dick still hides under Bruce’s cape all the way to the Batmobile.

Then comes Jason and Jason was such a sweet kid, I headcannon he was the one that called Bruce dad the most often while being Robin. So one night during patrol maybe he finds himself fighting Penguin or Two-Face and it’s been a long night and he has an exam the following day and Bruce is fighting another villain at the other side of the warehouse

The point is, the henchmen and Two-Face start landing hits on eleven year old Jason in his gut and at some point he loses sight of Batman fighting on the other side of the room. Jason gets scared because he’s never really fought without Batman and while he knows that Bruce is still in the warehouse, he can’t see him and the handle of a gun hits the back of his ankle and he falls and he sees Two-Face or Penguin or one of the henchmen getting ready to grab the front of his uniform and beat him up and…

“Daaaaddd!”

The criminals freeze for a moment. They’ve heard the stories of what happened the last time a Robin called scared for dad.

They’re fucked.

They all drop their guns and try to get Jason to calm down, but he’s crying just a little bit and calls again, his voice breaking and despite having been at the other side of the warehouse just a second ago, Bruce somehow drops from the ceiling and it’s over before the criminals can keep pleading with Robin to calm down.

Jason tries to apologize for ‘acting like a baby’ but Bruce is having none of it and carries him back to the Batmobile and Jason is happy to just hide his face in Bruce’s cape because he knows his dad will always be there to save him.

Then comes Tim.

And Tim gets found out while doing reconnisance and somehow he finds himself face to face with Bane who manages to wrench away his bo staff and Tim is just eleven and he is scared because Bane doesn’t look like he’s going to hold back

All Tim knows is that the crack he hears must surely be his ribs either cracking or breaking and he can’t breath and he can only muster enough air for a single word… and he calls for his dad through tears and fear

And at this point… at this point Batman has already lost a Robin, Tim may not be his legally but he is his son just as much as Jason was

Bane spends a month in the ICU

Tim is embarrased that he reacted like that. He thinks it makes him less of a Robin to called scared for Batman… for dad.

So Bruce tells him of the other two times it happened. It’s one of the first times he’s spoken about Jason to Tim so bluntly.

Then comes Stephanie.

Stephanie never calls Bruce dad when she’s Robin. She’s not his daughter and he’s not her dad. They’re not sure what exactly they are to one another.

As far as Bruce knows, Stephanie’s version of Robin never called out to him when she was scared.

What he doesn’t know is that it did happen. Just once

It was the last time she was Robin. When Black Mask had her and she thought she was going to die

At some point while bleeding and feeling nauseous and so scared she could barely hear anything that wasn’t her own heart beating wildly against her chest… she called for dad. Not for Arthur Brown, but for Bruce

Black Mask laughed at her

Stephanie never tells Bruce

And finally… Damian

Now, we know Damian would probably never be startled enough to call for Bruce out of instinct, so I can see 2 scenarios in which this could happen.

First, he sees another kid do it. He sees a kid close to his own age laughing and playing, then tripping and staying quiet for a split second before crying out for mom and dad and he just… assumes that’s something kids do when scared and hurt and startled and does it mostly in an attempt to be a little more ‘normal’

Or, my favorite scenario… he hears of the other times it has happened. He overhears maybe Dick remind Jason of what Bruce did when Jason called out to dad as Robin. Tim maybe jokes that a Robin calling for dad is still the villains’ greatest fear

So Damian stores that knowledge away as a battle strategy just in case he ever needs it… and maybe a small part of him wants to put it to the test, to see if his father would protect him as brutally as he’s protected the Robins before him

So some random night during patrol, he’s up against several henchmen, a few of them grab him from behind, trying to hold him down. Damian is fighting against them when one of them swings a cylinder of metal that Damian thinks might’ve been meant for the plumbing and…

The henchman breaks Damian’s nose, there’s blood dripping down his chin and staining his uniform

Now… it is most certainly not the first time he’s broken something, he’s more than used to the pain, in fact, he barely feels it. However, it gives him a chance to put his little theory to the test

And so Damian allows himself to sound like the ten year old that he is and in a whiny, teary voice, goes… “Babaaaaa!” (Bonus points if it’s the first or second time he’s called Bruce baba instead of father)

What Damian didn’t take into account though, is that Batman and Robin aren’t the only ones on patrol that night. They made a big bust. The biggest part of the operation was over but they were still fighting a few stragglers. The whole fucking family is here.

And they all hear his cry.

Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen a fight end so quickly. The henchmen only have a split-second of surprise before vanishing, being tackled or shot or having knives buried on their shoulders by his siblings.

The one that actually broke Damian’s nose is being beaten up by Nightwing, Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen Grayson so angry.

A shadow kneels in front of him, father. Baba. He’s checking Damian and Todd is right at his side, both speaking in hushed tones, checking his injuries and wiping the tears that usually came with a broken nose.

And now… Damian is used to his father and Grayson treating him like a child, trying to be as soft as they can with him. Even Cain does it to some extent.

But… having Drake wrap an arm around him, calling him baby when knocking out one of the criminals that had hurt him ‘that’s my fucking baby brother!’ and continue to hold him later into the night on the couch, having Brown willingly give up all the snacks she keeps in her utility belt and promise to take him to Batburger the following day for milkshakes because he was ‘a champ’. And Thomas wraps his favorite blanket around Damian while they’re fixing him up.

Todd decides to stay the night at the manor. Which he never does. They all decide to spend the night at the manor when Damian still sniffles on the Batmobile and they have breakfast all of them together. Which Damian isn’t sure has ever happened before and Cain gets Alfred to make pancakes with chocolate chips instead of blueberries.

They call him baby in hushed whispers but for once, it doesn’t bother him even though it really should

But most of all, Bruce refuses to let him go for a good five minutes after he first cries for him. Smoothing down his hair and whispering that it’ll be okay and just being soft in a way Damian has never seen before.

He sleeps between his Baba and Grayson and he knows that Todd and Drake and Cain check in on them at least twice in the night for some reason.

And he realizes it’s… it’s nice. Maybe this really could be an effective battle strategy to be employed again someday.

Jason trying to make a sandwich in Wayne Manor

Master Post of Phics

A Match Made In Hell Au

A big thank you to @justwannabecat for corrupting me with this dead on main soulmate prompt. I have been buried in plot bunnies for months now because of you. Dp x Dc

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Phantom Elf Au

The “what if everyone in Amity Park were cryptid immortals” prompt that got me in a head lock. Dp x Dc a series of one shots from outside POV.

Original Post

The Fae Scientist

Normal

Happy Superheroes Day 🦸💥

I TRUSTED you.

You just left me to DIE.

I rlly need to get on w my million fanfics waiting 2 be written

stay, little valentine, stay ｡𖦹° jason todd

🎧ྀི your roommate makes the fateful mistake of passing you, his roommate, off as his girlfriend to his boundary ignorant family. now the both of you are tasked with maintaining a faux romance for the entirety of a dinner at wayne manor—simple enough, right?

wc 4.2k | roommate!jason, lowercase intended, fem!reader, brief mention of booze, cursing, mutual pining, two idiots fake dating…truly what more can i say (a lot, so). please, enjoy my 'funny little valentines' day special ᯓᡣ𐭩

“there’s not enough room in the freezer for the ice trays. either move your booze or enjoy an ice free apartment,” your voice is tinged with annoyance as you stare down your long-term roommate.

he’s laid back on the shared couch, right cushion side, staring back at you with a impish grin on his face, “or, you could finally throw out that cake you bought for your ‘promotion’ party. since, the fuckin’ promotion never happened and it takes up half of my freezer.”

“our freezer.” you add. “and fuck you, i could still get that promotion any day now. i can always unfreeze it—good as new.”

jason seems to be beginning to tune you out as your eyes drift to a new letter on the fridge, stuck on with an ‘i hate gotham’ magnet. the print is fancy, cursive, bold black ink—YOU’RE INVITED—it reads.

“what are we invited to?” you ask, ice tray debacle not at all at the forefront of your mind now. not when you can tell your roommate’s got an invite from his estranged past guardian, none other than bruce wayne.

he hums a reply at first, still zeroed in to the rerun of some prison show. when he finally picks up on your question he sours, visibly, “some idiotic anniversary dinner for dick and kori. we’re not going, you weren’t even invited.”

you pout, “i want to go! why can’t we go?”

jason’s got a stern look on his face now, and you’ve always found it so unnerving how quickly he musters it up—usually so relaxed in your shared domain.

“we’re not going because i told a lie, and if we show up…everyone will know.” he groans, “just drop it, i need a little more time to ride this out.”

suddenly more intrigued, you prance over to him on the couch, flopping down beside him, “a lie?”

“don’t. just drop it.” he huffs at the obvious annoyance on your face, “it’s just stupid.”

“c’mon, we know all of each others ‘stupid’ shit. what was the lie, todd?” you’re being genuine, riddling your appeasement with a sweetly sardonic tone.

finally, after a good minute of staring at a very completive jason, he cracks, “i might have alluded to being in a relationship with you.”

your smile cracks before he even finishes his admission, oscillating between confusion and sheer giddiness—trying to halt the part of your brain that wants to imagine a life where a relationship isn’t such a laughable idea.

you curl your lips to stifle your last giggles before looking back up at him, “why?”

jason shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the question. his eyes dart away from yours, finding sudden interest in the television screen, "bruce kept...asking about my life here. if i was settling in, if i was happy." he runs a hand through his dark hair, "and then, all the others got involved, asking to set me up with people. i needed them to stop asking. and you-" he pauses, scratching the back of his neck, "you were the most believable option.”

you stare at him, unblinking, trying to process his words. "most believable option…” you repeat slowly, testing how the phrase feels on your tongue. a warmth spreads across your chest-whether from flattery or something else entirely, you're not quite sure. "so, what? think i can’t pretend to be your girlfriend for a dinner?" the idea sends an unwelcome flutter through your chest. you curse yourself.

jason's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and something else you can't quite read. "you'd do that?" he asks, his voice carrying an unusual note of vulnerability.

"of course," you reply, trying to keep your tone light and casual. "what are roommates for? plus, free fancy dinner at wayne manor? count me in." you're aiming for nonchalance, but your heart is racing at the prospect.

jason's jaw clenches, a tell-tale sign of him thinking too hard, "it's not that simple. they'll know it's fake. bruce especially—dick and tim too—they’re too observant for their own good.”

"oh please," you wave off his concern, settling deeper into the couch cushions, "we've lived together for what, two years now? we already act like an old married couple anyway. i know your coffee order, you know my work schedule. we share groceries, we fight about ice trays—“ you gesture broadly to the kitchen, "it's practically method acting at this point."

he looks at you then, really looks at you, with an expression you can't quite read. "you'd really do that? pretend to be with me in front of my entire family?"

"of course i would," you say softly, nudging his shoulder with yours. "what are friends for if not to fake date each other to avoid awkward family dinners?" you try to keep your tone light, ignoring the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you that rare, genuine smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"fine." he finally concedes, shrugging his shoulders, "but we need to get our story straight. no holes, no gaps—i figured we'd keep it close to the truth. roommates who gradually realized there was something more." he pauses, then adds, "the best lies are built on truth or some shit, right?”

you nod, and start crafting the imagined romance with jason. over the next hour, you both piece together your relationship timeline—how you first bonded over late night takeout after his patrols, the way you'd patch him up after particularly rough nights, and how somewhere between shared grocery runs and movie marathons, faux you fell for him. or him for you—the both of you can't agree on that just yet.

you try not to focus on how easy it is to imagine, how some of these made-up memories feel more like documentation rather than fabrication.

"okay, and when did we actually get together?" you ask, pulling your knees up to your chest, trying to ignore how invested you're becoming in this alternate reality.

"three months ago." jason answers quickly, too quickly, like he's already thought about this. "after that night I came home really beaten up, remember? you were so pissed at me for being reckless."

you remember that night vividly—how he ever thinks you could forget, you’re unsure.

him stumbling through the window at three in the morning, blood seeping through his stupid jacket. how your hands shook as you stitched him up, how quiet he was, how close his blanched face was to yours. you’d attributed the racing of your heart to fear, but now…not so much.

"yeah," you say softly. "that works."

the rest of the week flies by in a blur of preparation and anxiety, until suddenly it's the night of the dinner, and you're standing in front of your mirror, wondering if you've made a terrible mistake.

you're wearing a deep red-toned dress that hits just above your knee—something you'd bought on a whim (a fifty percent off sale) months ago and never found the right occasion for. jason had given it an approving nod when you'd shown him, which somehow makes you feel more nervous than reassured as you stare yourself down.

"ready?" jason's voice comes from behind you, and you turn to find him adjusting his tie in the hallway mirror. he looks…different. good different. the suit fits him perfectly, and you wonder briefly if alfred had something to do with that. the older man has a penchant for doting over your overgrown battling ram of a roommate.

"as i'll ever be." you manage, trying to keep your voice steady. "but, um, how convincing do you think we need to be?"

jason's eyes meet yours in the mirror, "enough to fool the world's greatest detective," he sighs, "and his army of protégés." he turns to face you properly, and something in his expression softens, but he looks away too quickly for you to discern, "you look really pretty."

"thanks." you mumble, fiddling with your clutch. "so do you. very…boyfriend."

he laughs, but it sounds slightly strained. "that's the idea, isn't it?" he offers his arm to you, "shall we?"

the drive to wayne manor is muted. jason's knuckles are white on the shifter, and you find yourself reaching over to place your hand over his without thinking. he startles slightly, but he doesn't pull away—even keeps contact as he switches gears.

"hey." you start softly, "we've got this. we know each other better than anyone, we live together. besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

jason sighs, his hand tightening slightly under yours. "you clearly don’t know how bruce and tim get at these things. anniversary or not, they'll smell blood in the water if we slip up."

"relax," you assure him, glancing out at the looming trees lining the driveway. "i doubt they’ll care about your relationship timeline when they’re busy fawning over how happy dick and kori are."

jason shoots you a look that clearly says 'don't tempt fate', but his grip on the wheel loosens slightly. "just…follow my lead. and if it gets too weird, we can always fake a medical emergency."

"that...is always an option." you grin, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips when he smiles back.

the manor looms up ahead, and as jason pulls up to the gate, you feel his hand squeeze yours briefly, almost indecipherable.

"last chance to back out." he murmurs.

you intertwine your fingers with his, ignoring the voice in your head that whispers how right it feels. "not a chance, todd. you're stuck with me."

the gates open, and as you drive up the winding driveway, you're unable to shake the feeling that you're about to cross a line you can't come back from. but with jason's hand so warm and relaxed in yours, you're not sure you want to.

jason parks the car in front of the house at the partition, "in case we need a quick exit." he shrugs.

"i think you're too worried, jason. i doubt they'll even question it. you said they wanted you dating anyway, i bet they'll just be happy." your voice is quiet, hand hovering in front of the doorbell.

he sighs, "you don't know these people, they question everything."

before you can reply or try to alleviate his doubts, the double doors fly open. you grab jason's hand in your own and pull him closer, just as alfred sets eyes on the pair of you.

alfred's eyes visibly brighten at the sight of both of you, his normally reserved expression softening into something fonder, "master jason," he greets, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "and miss, how lovely for you to be joining tonight. everyone is very excited to meet you, i fear my few stories were not enough to quell them."

you smile, a real genuine one too, "it's nice to see you again alfred! i hope we're not too late—jason decided to change his tie last minute."

alfred hums and beckons you both inside, "fashionable tardiness, miss. i assure you."

jason, hand now sweaty in yours, chuckles, "he's being nice since you're with me. he's usually irate by my lateness."

you shoot jason a pointed look as alfred continues. "master richard and miss kori have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. their anniversary dinner is a rare occasion they’ve pulled out all the stops for, you see."

jason grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, overachievers.

the sound of multiple voices echos through from a room, and you feel jason's grip tighten slightly. you've heard stories about his family for years now—mostly complaints, occasionally fond remembrances, and everything in between during late night conversations over takeout.

"master bruce insisted on formal dining tonight." alfred mentions, though his tone suggests mild disapproval. you've learned over your visits that alfred much prefers when the family dines in the kitchen.

jason scoffs quietly, "because god forbid we eat somewhere comfortable." you squeeze his hand again, a silent reminder of your emergency exit strategy. two years of living together has given you an extensive library of non-verbal communications.

the dining room, when you enter, is exactly as alfred has described it countless times—grandiose in a way that speaks to old money and older traditions. the table stretches long and elegant, set with what you recognize as the ‘good china’ alfred often mentions.

your muscles tense slightly as you finally notice all of the eyes on you—staring and studying—you have to think before you step.

bruce wayne rises first, and despite all of jason's stories, despite seeing him on tv and in newspapers, you're struck by his presence. "jason." he greets, then turns his attention to you. "we've all heard quite a bit about you from alfred, though significantly less from my son."

you feel jason's posture stiffen, but you're prepared for this. "oh, you know how jason is with sharing things." you say easily, the words flowing naturally after years of defending his privacy to nosy neighbors and concerned coworkers. "though, alfred's probably told you all my embarrassing stories by now."

dick grayson—exactly as handsome as the magazines suggest—breaks into a wide grin. "actually, alfred's been surprisingly tight lipped. just kept saying we should ask jason ourselves." his eyes sparkle with mischief. "which, of course, got us nowhere."

"some things don't need to be broadcast to the whole family." jason grumbles, but his thumb is mindlessly drawing small circles on your hand, a gesture you've learned means he's more comfortable than he's letting on. 

"oh, but this is so wonderful!" a melodic, cheerful voice chimes in, and you glance up to see koriand’r—kori to most—seated beside dick, her vibrant curly red hair catching the light as she smiles radiantly. "you must forgive us for prying, but jason does not often share such…delightful surprises."

"by 'us,' she means her." dick cuts in with a smirk, earning a playful nudge from kori.

"yes, and what of it?" she replies lightly, turning her attention fully to you. "you see, jason is like a tamaranian grisnek—so fierce and protective on the outside, but underneath, he is all kindness and loyalty. how could we not be curious about the person who has captured his heart?"

"great. glad we're all analyzing my personal life at the dinner table." jason mutters, though his hand stays on yours, his grip steady.

"do not be fooled," kori says in a whisper that is anything but subtle, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "jason pretends to be irritated, but inside, i know he is glowing with happiness."

your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself, and jason sighs heavily, his shoulders sagging with mock defeat. "i think i'm gonna need another drink."

kori leans back, laughing softly, the sound warm and lilting, as she looks between you and jason once more. "you are lovely." she adds sincerely, her tone softening. "and jason could not have chosen better."

tim drake, who you've only seen in passing when he's stopped by your apartment to drop off miscellaneous ‘private’ documents, raises an eyebrow. "yes, it's all very sweet." he hums it almost, tone carefully neutral but eyes sharp, studying you.

"sweet indeed." you agree, letting some of your genuine fondness for jason color your voice. it's not hard to fake being in love with someone when you've spent two years memorizing their coffee order, patching up their wounds, and falling asleep on their shoulder during movie marathons. the hard part, you're starting to realize, might be pretending it's all pretend.

bruce barely looks up from his plate as he speaks again, cutting through your blissful thoughts of jason, “a shame i wasn’t aware you two were involved.”

jason tenses beside you, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “yeah, well. guess you don’t know everything, old man.”

bruce sets his fork down with deliberate slowness. his gaze flicks between the two of you, assessing, “i never said i did.” his voice is even, unreadable. “but you don’t bring people around often. that’s worth noting.”

jason scoffs, like he couldn’t care less, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—annoyance, unease, probably both.

jason’s hand finds yours under the table. it’s definitely not a calculated move, not a necessary nor obvious display for the act you’re putting on. it’s just—there. warm and solid, his fingers curling around yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you don’t let go.

dinner progresses with a strange mix of tension and ease. You find yourself falling into natural conversation with dick about your work, while jason maintains a careful distance from bruce's attempts at engagement. still, his hand hasn't left yours, and you're starting to wonder if he's forgotten it's all for show.

"so—how did you two finally get together?" dick asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.

you exchange a quick glance with jason, settling into the story you've rehearsed. "it wasn't really some big dramatic moment," you say, the lie feeling uncomfortably close to the truth. "we just...realized we work."

jason picks up the thread smoothly, his thumb still tracing patterns on your hand. "she was patching me up after a rough night, mad at me for being so bruised," he says, and you can hear the genuine emotion in his voice. "and i just...i dont know—knew, i guess."

tim's watching you both with analytical eyes, and you wonder if he can see through the charade. "that tracks." he says finally. "you two have always been...close."

"speaking of close," dick interjects with a grin, "i think it's hilarious jason used to insist you were 'just roommates', and yet never went on any of the dates i set him up on. i should have known, really." there's a pout on his face, humourous.

you laugh, perhaps a bit too nervously, "well, we were. for a while." the irony of the statement isn't lost on you. you can see jason watching you from your peripheral, face stoic—but his eyes are soft. the way they watch over you, simply affectionate.

bruce, who's been quietly observing, finally speaks. "i'm glad jason has someone looking out for him," he says, and there's something in his tone that makes your heart ache. "he's always been...independent."

jason's grip on your hand tightens almost imperceptibly. "yeah, well, some things change." he mutters, but there's less bite in his words than usual.

the conversation shifts to safer topics—work, current events, alfred's latest culinary experiments. you find yourself relaxing despite the pretense, falling into familiar patterns of banter with jason, finishing his sentences, and sharing knowing looks.

it's during dessert that damian, who's been suspiciously quiet, finally speaks up. "you're good for him," he declares with all the authority of a youngest sibling. "he's less annoying when you're around."

jason chokes on his tiramisu, and you pat his back automatically, the gesture so natural you don't even think about it. "thanks, damian!" you say, fighting back a smile. "i think."

as the evening winds down and dinner ends, you find yourself in the manor's vast library, having wandered away from the group for a moment of quiet. besides, you feel somewhat redundant against their coded phrases and stories. jason finds you, as he always does.

"hey." he speaks softly, coming to stand beside you. "you doing okay?"

you turn to face him, suddenly very aware of how close he is. "yeah, i'm good. your family's...intense, but nice. just like you said."

he laughs quietly, but there's something different in his eyes. "you're amazing, you know that? playing along with all this. you didn't have to."

"i wanted to." you admit, and it feels dangerous how true those words are. "besides, what are fake girlfriends for?"

jason's looking at you with an expression you can't quite read, and for a moment, you think he might say something more. but then dick's voice calls from somewhere far off in the house and the moment gaps.

"we should head back." jason says, but he doesn't move. "before they send a search party."

you nod, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. "yeah, we should."

but neither of you moves, caught in this strange liminal space where pretend and reality blur, and you're no longer sure which is which. even less sure if you hunger for dreams or waking existence—which is which? for a split second, you want to reach out. you desperately want to feel him—to possibly transfer the devotion you’re still too afraid to admit you harbor.

jason’s breath is staggered, coming out forced and shallow. his eyes, darker in the dim light, are flitting between you and the door—until he focuses in on you, fully. you’re too confused as to why he’s getting closer to you to react accordingly when his lips brush yours.

your first instinct is to furrow your brows, still confused. then, you kiss back. hungrily. confusion still fogs your mind, but nowhere near the way jason does. his lips are chapped, plump, and still tasting faintly of expensive dark liquor. his body cages you close him, hands respectfully at your shoulders. of course the only thing you can recognize is jason.

you err on the side respectfulness—opting to tug him closer by the tie. there’s a flash of the memory of him putting it on, and you can’t fight a small smirk from slipping onto your lips. jason must notice, because he finally breaks away to peer down at you.

“what?” he whispers, panting and staring down at your lips.

“what do you mean, what? we kissed.” you still feel giddy from his kiss, but reality begins to settle into you like a winter chill.

jason watches you closely, his expression a mix of smugness and unease, “hmmm—playing it dangerous.” he finally murmurs, shaking his head.

you arch a brow, feigning derision. “you say that to all the girls, todd?”

he exhales a laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “yeah,” he huffs. “that grand number of...you.”

before you can say anything, footsteps echo just outside the library's door. jason instinctively steps back, widening the space between you just as dick pokes his head in. “there you two are! we were about to send out a search party.”

you smile, pushing down the lingering tension. “sorry. just taking a little tour.”

dick’s gaze flickers between you and jason, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “right. well, come on. we're playing charades—and bruce is actually smiling. you don’t want to miss that.”

jason groans, but he follows you and dick back back toward the others. his hand brushes against yours in the hallway, and for a second, you think he’s going to take it again. but he doesn’t. 

charades is winding down by the time you return, alfred putting away various dry erase boards and markers with the kind of efficiency only a butler can possesses.

kori beams when she sees you, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “lovebrids! you have returned!" she gestures to herself and grayson, "thank you for coming—we would like to extend our support to your relationship.”

jason lets out a little breath, like he wasn’t expecting that—like he isn’t sure what to do with the sincerity. “thanks, kori.”

bruce, too, seems slightly less intimidating now. “thank you for coming—you’re welcome here anytime, both of you.” he tells you, and it sounds like a rare offering.

something about it all settles in your chest, warm and unexpected. you’ve spent so much time being jason’s person in private—patching him up, watching his back, making sure he gets home in one piece—that it’s almost startling to have it acknowledged in front of everyone else.

goodnights and goodbyes come soon after, and tim catches jason by the elbow before the pair of you can walk out the door, pulling him aside for a hushed conversation. you linger near the doorway, talking with kori and dick, but you can’t help the way your attention keeps flickering back to jason.

when he finally returns to your side, his expression is unreadable. “ready to go?”

you nod, murmuring your goodbyes as you both step back into the night air. jason doesn’t say anything as he leads you back to the car, but his hands flex at his sides.

the drive back is quieter than before, the easy banter from earlier replaced with something heavier, something neither of you seems willing to touch just yet. jason’s grip is tight on the wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed on the road.

it isn’t until you’re pulling into the familiar streets near your apartment that he finally speaks. “they bought it.”

you huff a quiet laugh. “yeah? i told you so.”

jason’s eyes flick to you for a fraction of a second before he exhales. “thank you, seriously. you were great.”

you glance at him, something warm curling in your chest. “we just make a good team.”

something glints in his expression, something hesitant, something aching. “yeah,” he agrees, voice quieter. “we do.”

the silence stretches between you as he parks the car. you unbuckle your seatbelt, but neither of you make a move to get out. stuck stagnant.

“so, this is was fake...” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

jason’s fingers drum against the steering wheel, knuckles red. “yeah.”

you should leave it at that. you should forget the kiss. you should revert back to just his roommate. you should laugh it off, make some joke about how convincing you both were—but you don't—instead you say, “does it still feel fake to you? us...tonight?”

jason’s breath catches. for a long moment, he doesn’t answer. you almost let doubt seep in.

then, he turns, his eyes dark and searching. “god, no.”

your heart stutters in your chest, and you swallow hard, pulse roaring in your ears. “good. me neither.”

for a second, he just looks at you, like he’s waiting for you to take it back, to laugh it off. but you don’t, you won't. and when he leans in—slow, hesitant, like he’s giving you every chance to pull away—you don’t.

you decide to meet him halfway, instead.

writer’s note .☘︎ ݁˖ all of my thanks to the helpful, @sunnie-angel for being my beta reader for this fic! thank you again for your services—and your sweet comments on this little story, very very happy to have a moot like you !!!

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