#Jason is a mama's boy but Jazz is his mom here.

[xysidhequeen]

Did Jason open up his trauma to Jazz? Since she is the group team mom

Oh my Ancients, yes. She cracked that boy open like a walnut. It took a bit, but Jazz reminds him somewhat of Barbara and Harley, so he warmed up to her fairly quickly overall. She really taught him what it's like to have a big sibling(sorry, I love Dick but he was a shit older brother before Jason died).

Jason will talk to Jazz about things he'd never say to anyone else. He actually opens up to Ember and Kitty too, but they're more for when he wants someone to cry with and to have get all enraged on his behalf. Jazz is who he talks to when he wants to fix it.

It wasn't always like that. He had to learn how to differentiate. Had to learn when he needed help, when he had things that needed to be fixed. He had to unlearn the emotional constipation and phobia of talking about his feelings he learned from Bruce too. But Jazz is used to dealing with teenage boys who won't admit they're hurting even on pain of death. She's good at subtly working their pain out and helping them confront it. (She learned a lot from helping Danny and from her Psych classes so she's more crafty about it too)

Jazz is one of the biggest reasons Jason is as stable and emotionally healthy as he is. He's not healed completely. He won't be until he gets closure with Bruce and the Joker. And there's some things that will always stick around. Trauma leaves scars. But without Jazz, we wouldn't have the Jason we do in TKAHRK we'd have someone far closer to the Jason from UTRH.

#zee answers #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #the king and his red knight #the king and his red knight au #tkahrk #tkahrk au #jason todd #Jazz is a QUEEN and a GODDESS #shes a fucking miracle worker #I also mention in the story she helped him settle on his vigilante name. they went through weeks of discussing it #arguing over reclaiming a name and if it would trigger him and if the message was worth it if he was only picking it for revenge #or to hurt Bruce. Jazz was hughly critical and really made Jason THINK about it. they settled on the name and i explained why #But Jazz knows everything. more than even Danny knows about Jason. Jazz is the person Jason cant keep secrets from and never does #Jason is a mama's boy but Jazz is his mom here. #honestly tho if Jazz ever meets Bruce or the Joker in a dark alleyway its going to be on SIGHT she will throw all the hands #like she honestly HATES the Joker for what he did and Bruce is skating on thin fucking ice where shes concerned #hahahaha bruce run when she finds out that Tim is being negelected and you didnt notice

[sxnyarostova]

who’re you?

trans!orpheus brainrot got too much and i had to write orph meeting hermes, tw for deadnaming and misgendering 

Hermes is the god of messages and messenging and all that jazz.

 (He's also the god of a gazillion other things, but no one quite remembers all of his titles.)

 That automatically promotes him to the role of Olympus' mailman; he delivers everything from letters to wives to parcels.

 It's quite a tiring job.

 When Calliope sends him a letter with an address and her signature, Hermes already knows what he'll be picking up this time. He skims through the letter; the contents are interesting. Calliope's daughter has driven her mother to her wit's end, it seems, and Calliope doesn't want her anymore.

 She's a lost cause, the letter reads. She's nothing like the successor I want. Her name is Ophelia. Tell her that I love her and that I'm sorry.

 "Well, if that ain't something," Hermes whistles. He'll relay the entire message to Calliope's daughter; the kid deserves to know the truth.

 Hermes may be the god of trickery, but he hates lying to people.

 (He does lie to Zeus, though.

 And Hera.)

 He reads the address and readies his train; looks like he's got some travelling to do.

-

Orpheus wakes from his nap to find his mother missing. She's not curled up next to him on their double like she usually is when he wakes from his naps; there is nothing but empty space next to Orpheus, and he hates how uneasy it makes me feel.

 "Ma?" he calls, wandering out of his mother’s bed. "Ma? Are you here?"

 Dread settles to the bottom of his stomach. He's heard the stories of mothers and fathers and parents disappearing without a trace and consequently abandoning their children. "Mom?" Orpheus yells again, checking the living room. Everything is as he left it, but there’s no sign of his mother.

 He checks every room in the house, every little nook and cranny, but his mother isn't anywhere. "Maybe she's gone out to get groceries," Orpheus wonders aloud. "Yeah, that's it. We were out of cereal this morning."

 Orpheus sits down on the old, crumbling couch, and waits.

 Seconds, minutes, and hours pass by. There is still no sign of his mother.

 "Long line at the grocery store," Orpheus mumbles, pulling his knees up to his chest. He ties his hair back with a rubber band; his mama won't let him cut it, says that he needs to look ladylike.

 He's not a girl. Orpheus hates his hair, hates the dresses that his mama insists that he wear, hates the colour of his room-

 Something dawns on Orpheus all of a sudden.

 "She left," Orpheus says, to no one in particular. "Cause I'm not a girl. Mama likes girly girls, but I'm a boy."

 He feels tears snake down his cheeks. Orpheus hastily brushes them away, because he has to be brave, like Jason from next door. Said boy had skinned his knee the other day and he hadn't cried.

 (Your mother abandoning you is much more painful than a skinned knee, though, a voice whispers.

 Orpheus pushes that thought all the way to the very back of his mind.)

 Suddenly possessed with determination, Orpheus goes to his room and gets the pair of scissors his mama had given him.

 (She'd told him to make crafts; Orpheus had crafted guitars and lyres with paper and crayon, and his mother had been overjoyed. "You'll be a great musician, Ophelia," his mother had said. "You take after me, don't you?"

 Orpheus had never bothered to correct his mother's constant misnaming. She'd just throw a fit and scream at him.)

 Orpheus pads into the bathroom and hops onto the stepstool. He pulls his hair free and slowly begins cutting it, lock by lock.

 Soon, the bathroom floor is littered with stray locks of brown hair. Orpheus smiles when he catches a glimpse of his new reflection; he looks like himself, not the girl his ma had wanted him to be.

 Another idea springs into his mind. He quickly leaps off the stepstool and dashes out the house, running over to Jason's.

 He knocks frantically on his friend's window; it's a blessing that the other boy lives on the first floor. Jason pads over and pries his window open. "Hey Phe," Jason says. "You need anything?"

 "Can you lend me a pair of pants?" Orpheus asks.

 Jason frowns. "Won't your mama be mad? You're not s'posed to wear pants. My mom told me."

 "She changed her mind," Orpheus lies. "She even let me cut my hair." Orpheus flaunts his new hairstyle, and Jason grins. "Neat," Jason says. "You want my khakis? I'm sure my mom won't mind."

 "Yes please!" Orpheus exclaims, and he waits eagerly by Jason's window. His friend quickly returns with the pants, which Orpheus grabs. "Thanks, Jase!" Orpheus says. "Do you wanna play in the garden?" Jason asks.

 "Can't," Orpheus says. "Uh, gotta help with dinner."

 "Girl things, right?" Jason says, to which Orpheus cringes. Even his best friend is confused sometimes; Orpheus hates it.

 "Yeah," Orpheus says, lying through his teeth. "I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

 "I'll see ya," Jason says, and shuts the window. Orpheus waves and runs back to his house, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get home.

 Orpheus quickly pulls out his favorite red shirt from the dresser and throws it on, shucking his yellow dress and cramming it under his bed. He puts the shorts on, and it feels like he has entered a new world.

 A knock on the door stops him in his tracks. He freezes; it can't possibly be his mother. If it is, Orpheus will very likely never see the light of day again.

 He timidly approaches the door. "Ma?" he calls. "That you?"

 There's a click, and the lock on the front door pops. The door swings opens to reveal a man wearing a silver suit; Orpheus notes that there are lots and lots of feathers on the man's feet. He has a whistle attached to his belt.

 "You Ophelia?" the man asks, leaning against the doorframe.

 Orpheus swallows; it's now or never.

 "No," he says. "I'm Orpheus."

 "Your ma says that your name's Ophelia," the man says, and he holds up a letter; Orpheus' heart skips a beat. "So you best stop lying to me, girl, if you want this to work out for both of us."

 "I'm a boy," Orpheus says stubbornly. "My name is Orpheus."

 The man eyes him curiously. Orpheus stands his ground, refusing to break away from the man's intense stare.

 "A'ight," the man says resolutely. "You're a boy."

 Orpheus smiles, and it's brighter than sunlight.

(Hermes feels something warm inside of his chest at the sight of Orpheus.)

 "Why're you here?" Orpheus asks. "And who are you?"

 "I'm here because your ma's run off," the man says, unsure how to break the news. Orpheus must visibly slump, because the man looks like he regrets his wording. "I'm Mr. Hermes, and I'm your caretaker from here on out."

 "I'm Orpheus," he says. "You just told me," Mr. Hermes replies.

 "I know," Orpheus says. "Just tryin' it out on my tongue."

 He's said it a million times in his head, but it sounds so much better when vocalised.

 "Well, boy," Mr. Hermes says, giving Orpheus a pat on the shoulder. "You got anything you need to pack?"

 Orpheus thinks of his bright-pink room and the dresses and the person he is leaving behind. "No," Orpheus says.

 Hermes raises an eyebrow. "You sure?" he asks. The man pushes past Orpheus and wanders into the house; Orpheus immediately runs to his room and slams the door shut. "Yeah, I'm sure," Orpheus says, a little winded.

 "Look, kid, I know that your ma used to treat you like a girl," Hermes says, sighing a little. "But you're a boy through and through; it's just your body's that not properly caught up, huh?"

 Orpheus' stoic façade wavers. "Yeah," he mumbles softly. "That's why ma left. She-she wants a girl and I ain't a girl."

 Hermes pulls Orpheus into a hug; boy looks like he needs one. "Well, I need a boy," Hermes says casually. "What'd you need a boy for?" Orpheus asks, his voice muffled by the fabric of Hermes' clothes.

 "To help around the train station," Hermes says.

 "You run a station?!" Orpheus exclaims, breaking from the embrace.

 "Mhm," Hermes nods. 

Orpheus looks enthused. "Can ya take me there?" Orpheus pleads.

 "After I see what you can still use from your old room," Hermes bargains. Orpheus pulls a face and nods rather reluctantly. "I'll wait outside," Orpheus mumbles, and shuffles to the living room.

 Hermes finds a few gender-neutral t-shirts and an old teddy lying on Orpheus' bed. He stuffs those into a backpack and hunts down a toothbrush and other sanitary items in the washroom. Hermes ignores the long strands of hair on the bathroom tiles and the pair of safety scissors perched precariously on the sink.

 Hermes then finds something interesting; a paper lyre, tucked under the bed. He packs that too, just in case.

 Hermes reemerges from Orpheus' old room to find the boy already waiting eagerly by the door. "Can we go now, Mr. Hermes?" Orpheus demands. "I wanna see the station!"

 "A'ight, we're goin', boy" Hermes says, ruffling Orpheus' hair. "Stick close to me, okay?"

Orpheus nods, and the two of them head off. Orpheus is glued to Hermes’ side the entire time, the older man’s arm slung over his shoulder.

Hermes looks at the boy, and makes a mental promise to protect him no matter what.

(This whole custody situation will be interesting to explain to Persephone when she comes back up top.)

#hadestown #orpheus #hermes #trans!orpheus #amity writes