#jason todd loves this stranger

[mostly-imagines]

The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all. 

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative. 

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water. 

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury. 

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat. 

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?” 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door. 

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes. 

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand. 

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his. 

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on. 

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.” 

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not. 

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.” 

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.” 

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse. 

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?” 

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot. 

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?” 

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over. 

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.  

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.  

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.  

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly. 

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.  

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles. 

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.  

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no. 

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch. 

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated. 

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar. 

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.” 

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.” 

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second. 

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.    

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over. 

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?” 

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.” 

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.” 

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing. 

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself. 

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces. 

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

 You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.” 

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.” 

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it. 

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.  

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”  

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at. 

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?” 

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”      

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down. 

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut. 

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?” 

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly. 

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.  

Alright, one step at a time.   

#jason todd loves this stranger #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x y/n #jason todd/you #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #dc x you #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #jason todd loves his gf

[cablecar-s]

to love and self loathe

part 1 part 2 part 3

I'm Just A Guy, With A Boomerang!

Okay, so maybe she was a tiny bit rusty as being Spider-Woman. No big deal, just a few more days or nights being in the suit and she can-

Wait- No, this was supposed to be the only and last time she was even putting on the suit. It was just a precaution! You know, if the other vigilantes weren't able to make it because of the decoy or whatever Black Mask was planning.

. . .

God what was she doing...?

Swinging from building to building, she headed into the direction of Wayne Manor. Except, she soon found out just how far the manor was from the city. By the time she made it to the manor, just on the edge of the forest where she saw the clearing of the rather large and gothic mansion, she was quite literally out of breath.

"Damn rich people..." She wheezed, slightly panting as she tried to catch her breath. Once her breathing went back to normal, she climbed over the aging stone wall and jogged over to the massive building. 

Scaling up the wall, she peeked through the multiple windows, making mental notes to herself as she continued to go through each window.

"Now if I were a bunch of thugs, where would I-"

And as if on cue, a large explosion shook the mansion, smoke coming out from one of the sides of the mansion.

"There, I would be over there." She sighed out.

Quickly crawling her way over, she let herself inside the very large ballroom, trying her best to not gawk at how fancy it looked whilst crawling on the ceiling.

"Nobody move! Or the brat gets it!" 

Looking down, everyone was in a state of panic while a thug with a black mask held a young boy hostage, a gun to his head.

With the smoke slightly clearing up, she had taken note that there were about 8 men, and they were all armed, wonderful.

All of them were shoving through the crowd of rich folks, seeming to look for someone in particular. While they were busy doing that, she quietly dropped down, trying to use the smoke and people, hopefully they didn't scream out when they saw her.

"Sorry, pardon me." She quietly whispered, squeezing past the many expensive suits and dresses. "I like the tie." She complimented, though everyone just gawked at her as she put a finger up to where her lips were supposed to be as she made her way over to one of the thugs.

"Hey." She called out, poking the thug's shoulder.

"Wha-" Turning around, about to aim his gun at her, she quickly webbed his mouth shut with one hand while the other had shot out a web to take hold of his gun to take it out from his hand. Shooting out another web to wrap his upper body, she jabbed the butt of the assault rifle into his stomach, causing him to let out a muffle 'oomph!'.

Stumbling back from the impact, she gave him a simple push into the wall before using her webs to keep the man stuck to the wall.

Dusting off her hands, she soon took notice of the many rich folks who only looked at her in bafflement. A bit embarrassed at the attention, the Spider cleared her throat, pointing behind her shoulder.

"I should.. I should probably go." Raising her hand up, she had her web shooter pull herself back up onto the ceiling, crawling on her hands and feet to get to whichever criminal she saw next.

For the next 20 minutes, she was able to take down two more guys before the hostage situation had gotten worse.

Finishing up with keeping one of Black Mask's stuck to the ceiling, the sound of laughter from Mask's men had garnered her attention.

"Now we're getting somewhere." The man holding Damian grinned cynically. Just opposite of him was another one of the criminals, now having Bruce Wayne as a hostage, another gun pressed to his head.

"Alright Mr. Philanthropist, you're gonna listen closely and do as we say: Within 24 hours you're gonna give us 20 billion in exchange for the brat." Damian's hostage tightened his grip around his neck, pressing the gun even closer to the pre-teen's skull.

"I will kill you all." Damian hissed out, but he was only met with getting hit with the gun, making him grunt in pain.

"Shut the hell up." His captor growled out.

"You can have the 20 billion, just leave my son out of this." Bruce said, doing his best in trying to stay calm.

The man only cackled, the sound of his gun cocking, his finger now hovering over the trigger. "We're gonna need the 20 billion first Mr. Wayne."

"Ahem."

All heads quickly swiveled to the sound, only to see Spider-Woman standing there, almost a bit awkwardly.

"Didn't know we were supposed to bring guns to a party as fancy as this." She commented.

It went silent for a moment.

Okay.. Great start.

"Who the fuck are you?" The young Wayne's captor hissed out.

"Oh you know," She let out a small nervous huff. "Just a passerby, thought I would take a look around Gotham and all." She waved a hand nonchalantly. "And you know, it's really nice in Gotham, well, of course, minus all the crime and guys trying to mug an innocent bystander every ten minutes."

She continued to ramble, her arms moving about.

People only looked at her like she was crazy, and honestly? She couldn't blame them.

She herself had no idea what in the hell she was doing, she just hoped she could find herself an opening before the situation escalated any more than it already has.

At some point, the captors were getting irritated, now finding her ramblings tiring.

"Would someone get rid of this bitch already!?" One of them yelled out.

In that moment, her senses tingled, but everything had almost gone in slow motion as the sound of a gunshot rang out, making people scream while some sort of black baton was simultaneously thrown at one of the captors.

Bruce Wayne's captor let out a pained yell as he had been hit with the baton, to the Spider's left though, another yell of pain was heard, as it was one of thugs who was about to shoot the woman.

"What the-!?" Damian Wayne's captor's attention quickly turned to where the baton and gunshot had came from.

Taking this moment of distraction, the female vigilante quickly shot out a web and yanked the gun out from the captor's hand.

"Hey!" Turning his head to look at her, she shot another web, making it cover his entire face. Alarmed, his hands quickly let go of the boy and tried to pull the webbing off. Damian, in response, turned to his captor and gave him a swift kick, knocking him back onto his butt.

There was no time to relax though, for from the corner of the Spider's eye, she saw another one of Black Mask's minions point their gun straight at Damian.

"Hey kid watch out!" She yelled. Quickly running towards him, she closed the distance by grabbing him with her web before shooting another web and pulling themselves up to the ceiling.

An echo of screams rang in the ballroom, everyone now running and panicking, all of the rich folk quickly trying to leave the now dangerous room.

"You alright?" She looked at the boy who had a scowl, arms crossed.

"I'm fine." He retorted.

Rude.

"Okay Mr. Grumpy-Pants." She muttered.

Hearing more gunshots, she looked over and saw two of Gotham's vigilantes fighting off the rest of Mask's men.

"Hey so, I'm gonna leave you up here real quick-"

"You will not-" 

It was too late though, the young Wayne found himself webbed into a cocoon, now stuck to the ceiling of his home while the Spider made her way down to help the two men.

"Release me at once!" He yelled at her, fuming.

Both Red Hood and Nightwing were preoccupied and cornered by Black Mask's minions. Both fighting the men and dodging the bullets they shot at the vigilantes.

Too preoccupied, Nightwing had realized too late as one of the men were about a second away from getting shot. But an all too familiar sticky string had pulled the gun out from the minion's hands only to be promptly knocked out with a harsh kick from behind.

"You boys need help?" She questioned, tossing the gun to the side.

"We have it just fine."

"That'd be appreciated."

Red Hood and Nightwing glanced at each other, but Red Hood seemed to be the one to look away first. With a smile, Nightwing threw his escrima stick, shocking a criminal as they went down while he looked back at the Spider.

The two nodded nodded at each other at the result of Red Hood's lack of resistance and made quick work of joining the two men. 

"I don't think I've ever seen you around in Gotham before." Nightwing turned a bit, dodging a fist that flew his way.

"Ah well, I just thought I'd do a bit of sightseeing." Spider-Woman replied, webbing one of the men's foot to the ground, causing him to fall face first onto the ground.

"And Gotham was your first choice?" The first Robin looked over at her, both brows raised, while simultaneously kneeing a man in his face.

She let out a small laugh, weaving her way behind a guy before shoving him to fall to his knees.

"I let the wheel of fate choose for me." She shrugged.

 Nightwing quickly picked up his escrima and tossed it to her, her web shooting out to have it come to her faster.

Once in hand, she tossed the escrima in the air a bit before catching it once more and hitting the man, who was trying to get up, in the back of the head, causing him to fall once more, though this time staying down for good.

"You two, less talking and more beating Sionis' men up." Red Hood grunted in irritation, taking hold of the man throwing a punch at him and bent it the other way, causing the man to let out a blood curdling scream.

Both Spider-Woman and Nightwing backed up into each other, their backs pressed to each other.

"Is he always that snappy?" She questioned, causing him to laugh.

"He's nice, I promise."

She only let out an unconvinced hum in response. 

Clasping his fingers together, Spider-Woman stepped into his hands as he threw her into the air. Finding her target, she shot two strings of webs to the ground before pulling herself feet first, giving the last guy a good kick, and a long-term concussion, to the head.

A satisfied hum left her lips, hands on her hips.

Nightwing whistled a bit, walking over to her. "You're pretty good." He mused.

She couldn't help but feel giddy at the compliment, remembering the adrenaline rush that comes with being a vigilante. 

"Why thank you." She said in a bit of a posh accent, one arm slinging behind her back while the other wrapped around her stomach, and bowed.

Nightwing chuckled at her antics as she straightened herself up.

"I thought I'd be a bit rusty, but it seems I still got it." She hummed brushing her shoulder. Soon, she felt something sturdy and warm brush against the back of her head, slowly tilting her head backwards, the looked as Red Hood was tilting his head down to look at her.

"What are you doing here in Gotham?" His robotic voice questioned. "And don't give me that 'sightseeing' bullshit." 

Turning herself around to face the slightly scary man, she looked up at him clearing her throat and held a finger up.

"Uh well, for starters," She started. She only looked as he continued to stare at her, waiting for a response.

God was he scary when you weren't a citizen.

She seemed to be having a hard time trying to come up with something, a sense of deja vu coming upon her. 

"I have.. Family..?" Her response was more of a question than an answer, and that only made Red Hood even more unconvinced.

"Really." He crossed his arms.

"Ye.. s...?" She slowly drew out the word a bit more, slightly cringing at how unsure she sounded herself.

"If you are done chatting then it would be smart of you to let me down before I come down myself!" A voice, slightly far away, yelled out.

All three vigilantes looked up towards the voice and saw Damian still stuck to the ceiling.

Nightwing snorted a bit at this, the Spider quickly clearing her throat.

"I uh, better go get him." Letting out a nervous chuckle, she glanced at the two vigilantes before webbing her way up to the ceiling, ripping away at the webs to get the boy out from his cocooned confines.

"I don't trust her." Jason squinted his eyes at her, watching her every move.

Dick rolled his eyes at this. "You don't trust anyone Jay- Ow!" 

His head went forwards, a light slapping noise echoing in the walls.

"Vigilante names, we don't know if she can hear us or not." Jason stated.

Dick only let out an annoyed huff, rubbing the back of his head, there was a bit of a smile on Jason's lips, his mood slightly lifting after giving his older brother a good smack.

The Spider soon let their youngest brother down back to the ground. They only watched in amusement as the two seemed to have an exchange of words before Bruce made his way over.

"You're alright?" He questioned his son, crouching down a bit to take a look at him.

"Fine." Damian huffed, looking away, arms crossed. "I told you this party was useless." He slightly glared at his father who only chuckled, giving a small ruffle to his hair.

"I'll make it up to you, promise." He smiled. Standing up, the billionaire looked at the female vigilante. "Thank you, for saving my son."

"Oh, I mean.." The Spider became a bit bashful, a sheepish laugh leaving her mouth. Rubbing the back of her head, she slightly looked away, waving her hand a bit. "It wasn't just me who helped too." 

She looked over at the other two vigilantes, the two seeming to be talking—more like bickering, no one needs to know that but them though—until Nightwing lightly elbowed Red Hood who begrudgingly followed behind the masked vigilante who made his way to them.

"Mr. Wayne." Nightwing said with a smile.

"Ah, Nightwing." The billionaire smiled, looking over at the man that stood behind the more chipper vigilante. "Red Hood."

Red Hood only gave the man a curt nod, muttering the billionaire's name as a greeting. He shifted his weight, having crossed his arms before promptly looking away afterwards.

It became a bit awkward after that, Spider-Woman only watching with slight discomfort at the odd greeting she had just witnessed.

Clearing her throat, all three men looked over at her. "Well I uh, I better get going." She pointed behind her.

"To New York?" Bruce questioned, raising a brow.

"What?" She questioned back, looking at the man before blinking a bit too much. "You.." She pointed at herself. "You know of me?" She asked, dumbfounded.

He chuckled at this. "Of course, you were all over the internet with your disappearance." He mused.

"Oh.." She mumbled, remembering seeing the many articles as well. Everyone questioning as to where she had gone, and if she was coming back.

The flash of a smile and a melodic voice calling out her name came to her, making her grimace.

"Everything alright?"

She snapped her head up to look at the billionaire who had a bit of concern on his face, the two vigilantes looking at her with questioning look.

"Uh, yeah, sorry." She hummed nervously. "All that fighting really tired me out." She winded up her arm, rocking back and forth on her feet a bit. "Anyways uh, thank you, for having me. Sorry about the mess." 

Her hands moved around all over the place, taking small steps back towards the large hole in the wall. "I'll be, I'll be going now, haha.." 

Turning around, a web shot out from her wrist and she had left with the wind. 

"Some party that was." Dick mused. 

"Father did you see how she stuck me to the ceiling like some insect?" Damian quipped.

"Maybe because you are one." Jason mused. 

Immediately, Damian's head turned to look at his brother to give him a glare. Bruce only sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Enough." Looking over at his two oldest, he gave them a questionable look. "Does anyone want to tell me what Spider-Woman is doing in Gotham?" He questions.

Dick shrugged at this. "Beats me."

Jason stayed quiet, a bit of a grimace falling on his face.

"Jason." 

The second Robin only rolled his eyes, looking at his adoptive father. 

"She seemed to have come to Gotham a week ago. Only trail she left was her webs." He informed, arms still crossed.

"And I wasn't informed about this because..?"

Jason shrugged. "Didn't seem important."

The father and son duo stared at each other for a good while, tension slightly building up.

Fuck, this wasn't how Jason wanted this to go.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Bruce beat him to it.

"Well as long as she doesn't pose a threat." He sighed out. "You two should probably get changed, I'm sure Gordan and the others will be here soon."

And right as Bruce said that, the distant sound of sirens could be heard, the colors red and blue flashing in a distance through the darkness and trees.

With a nod, both Jason and Dick went to leave—Damian following along to head to his room—Dick going on ahead, all the while Jason having stopped in his tracks after hearing his name be called out.

Turning his head, he looked over his shoulder, seeing Bruce stare at him for a moment, his lips pressed into a line.

"Will you..." He hesitated for a moment. "Will you be staying for the night?" 

Jason stopped breathing for a moment. 

Did he want him to stay? Or was he just asking out of formalities? Of course Bruce wanted him to stay, he was his son for crying out loud.

Jason's mouth suddenly felt dry, having to lick his slightly chapped lips. His eyes darted around the room, suddenly feeling like that walls of the ballroom were closing in on him even though there was a giant hole in one of the walls.

"No, I'll be going back to my place." He flexing his hand a bit to try and calm his nerves, feeling his clothes suddenly feeling a bit too small on him all of sudden.

"I see. Take care then. I'll see you tomorrow." Bruce said softly.

"Yeah." Was all Jason was able to muster before walking off, leaving the man by himself in the large ballroom.

His footsteps quickened once he left the room, a somewhat nauseous feeling overcoming him. Quickly moving the arms of the grandfather clock once more, he wasted no time going down the stairs.

Fast walking to his motorcycle, he kicked the stand up and stuck the key into the ignition.

"Leaving so soon?" 

Jason paused, hand just barely about to turn the key to start his bike. It was quiet between him and Dick, the two not saying a word.

"Bye." Jason said, his bike roaring to life at the same time, almost drowning out his goodbye as he sped off.

Dick only sighed, watching his younger brother leave the Batcave, the smell of exhaust and gasoline filling the air.

At least he's trying.

part 1 part 2 part 3

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #spiderwoman reader #to love and self loathe #strangers to friends to lovers #dcu #dc universe #x reader #female reader #I'm pretty proud about the fight scene #reader is just a lil silly #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #nightwing #tim drake

[mcuxhp777]

which ship's more gayer?

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #jayroy #roy harper #jason todd #stranger things #dc comics #jason and mike would be buddies #both in love with their best friend but refuse to admit it #i know what you are #bisexual jason todd #bisexual mike wheeler

[discocandles]

One person asked me to open a can of worms so I got the can opener: Damian Wayne's customer service voice, and how his brothers found out

If you are unfamiliar with the concept of a customer service voice, i will explain, you sweet sweet summer child. It is where people will change their voice to be more welcoming, often to guests of a business. 

Damian's case is a little different. He learned to speak to people very formally. I don't think it's a stretch to say Ra's Al Ghul's heir had a proper education, though with more stabbing. These habits lessened as he lived in Gotham and got some character development 

But I think his speech is still formal to the common ear. Damian still enunciates each and every syllable precisely, rarely uses conjunctions, and sounds like he reads a thesaurus in his free time. And he noticed this was different from his peers too. 

It fully hit him when he went to school, and got odd looks from his teachers and classmates whenever he spoke, which got old. But changing his typical voice for these fools felt demeaning, and it was too late to change to their way of talking without getting more side glances. 

The whole other speech style never really gets used that often, because Damian rarely speaks to passerby, and at galas he's often complimented as "such a well-spoken young man.", which is preferred to "oh, he's such a widdle darlin' cutie pie!" Then again, most anything is better than "widdle darlin' cutie pie"

here's how I think his brothers would find out about it: 

first: I say Steph was the one to teach it to him, because he needed to learn it right then, and Dick was in Bludhaven, and she would tease him about it but eventually get down to business with enough urgency. Second: Cass already knows. She walked in on Damian learning and decided to sit and watch. These two reasons are why I say brothers not siblings.

Now back to business:

They're all on a plane for a vacation, but Alfred couldn't take them, probably due to some nonsense on Bruce's end. Unfortunately Cass couldn't sit next to them because it's an airplane, and they were lucky enough to get 6 seats all next to each other. 7 would be pushing their luck. Cass ended up getting the lone seat, but all she really wanted was a window seat, so it was cool.

Jason is sitting next to Damian and decides to start pestering him, as one does. Damian then hushedly says "Jason Peter Todd, I am infinitesimally close to impaling you with a katana, of which I was hoping to avoid until the midpoint of this useless vacation."

Jason decides to be petty and raises his hand to call over a flight attendant like "I'm sorry, but I don't feel safe around this guy, he said he had a katana."

The flight attendant looks over at this child 13 year old, and asks "sir, is this true?"

And Damian turns to her, with a confused look and says "Ma'am, I've no clue wha he's talkin' about. I don' know if there's a way to get one'a'dos hu-gass swords pass the TSA here."

Behind them, Dick and Tim's jaws have dropped while Steph snickers, and Duke gives Damian the side eye from the window seat. Jason's trying to focus on glaring at him while The flight attendant nods understandingly. 

But Damian is in no mood to just stop there. (He should really go into the theatre) "But I get this's a big thing, so do'ya want to check ma jacket an' bag?"

"That is protocol, thank you for understanding, sir." Damian hands her his jacket and backpack, the rest of the family is trying not to combust. Both are all clear of weapons, Katana or otherwise, and the attendant leaves them.

There's silence for about 15 seconds, then Duke says "Damian, what the fuck?" Steph starts cackling, and Tim is practically incoherent with confusion. Dick is crying on Tim's shoulder about how "his ickle bird has grown up so fast", and Jason is mostly just stunned, and mutters a "yeah, what Duke said."

Damian turns to Jason and says "Todd, how dare you summon the stewardess."

"Oh, so you're back, but still, what the fuck?" Duke is still eyeing Damian 

"Well, if he'd talked to the lady like he typically does, she would've totally believed he'd have a katana." 

"Precisely Brown, my typical mannerisms would make that exchange much more bothersome." 

Cass hears the story later, "good job, little brother." Is her comment, Damian gets no rest about his customer service voice for the rest of the vacation, and while he didn't have a katana on the plane, there was the dagger in his left pant leg. 

#damian wayne #jason todd #stephanie brown #duke thomas #dick grayson #cassandra cain #tim drake #batfamily #batfam #thank you for asking to open my can of worms #The worms are free #i love them so much #Bruce still has no clue about Damian's stranger voice #And Alfred has always known about it #But is anyone that surprised about that? #the chronicles of damian's customer service voice

[suguruslut]

Title: the burdens we carry (and bury)

Author: suguru_slut

Fandom: Batman

Relationships: Jason Todd & Dick Grayson, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Rating: General

Words: 6,033

Summary:

Jason Todd has been Batman's sidekick for about six months, and despite his best efforts to remain energetic and hopeful, Jason is burnt out from all the burdens he carries with him as both Robin and Jason Todd. A surprise visit from Dick Grayson brings the new boy wonder face to face with the original Robin for the very first time, a young hero whose sudden appearance at the manor reveals complicated feelings about Jason being the new Robin.

Jason just wanted a long afternoon nap, but ends up discussing the burdens that come with being Batman's Robin

#jason todd #jason todd centric #dick grayson #dick and jason #brothers #batman #bruce wayne #batman and robin #robin #jason todd is robin #alfred pennyworth #brotherly bonding #brotherly love #first meeting #anxiety #fatigue #developing relationship #strangers to brothers #deep talks #gotham #bruce wayne is batman #batman fanfiction #family fluff

[moodymoonysupportgroup]

rip jason todd, you would've loved boygenius

#dc universe #jason todd #boygenius #he would definitely cry to not strong enough #he would also love stranger in the alps #i mean come on #“do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?” #that is so him talking to bruce

[starbuggz]

Jason Todd is so Crush by Ethel Cain coded.

Thank you and goodnight.

#jason todd #dcu #red hood #my wittle pookie wookie babygirl #and when he comes back from the pit he's Strangers #god i just love him so much #its biblical how much i need him #red hood and the outlaws #outlaws

[sides4peace]

#sides4peace #love #sideswipe4peace #fanfiction #book cover #epub book #fanfic #fanart #stranger things #tim drake robin #batman #jason todd is red hood #jay/tim

[batmanannual4]

i think good things have been done with jason's death in other media (e.g. love how it plays out in arkham knight, other issues with that story notwithstanding), but the beat as presented in death in the family does capture something unique that i'm not sure any reimagining has. the death is such a landmark moment for batman comics / comics in general that it always feels expected/inevitable, analogous to the murder of batman's parents or destruction of krypton as far as things that just. will happen. and there's good stuff to be done with that, but it's also really electric to read the pages where it all happened for the first time and feel the story stretching against the elasticity of narrative convention and the metatext. doomed as he is, jason todd nevertheless carries with him the decades of establishment that Robin is a character who Doesn't Die, certainly not to regular arch-villain The Joker - and certainly not in so casual and callous away, condemned by an altogether small mistake and a stray, vengeful whim. there's no big plan on the villain's part, no real philosophical or material objective being furthered on his part; it's the kind of death that comes from plot armor momentarily disintegrating, and the character realizing just a beat too late. rather than be killed by a plot that determined he had to die, jay was abandoned by a plot that decided it couldn't care less about him, and he was just too young and too small to keep afloat without it. it's just. uncomfortable on a visceral "that's not supposed to happen" level and heartbreaking upon considering of jay as an autonomous agent acted upon by the whims of an audience and a genre that could not possibly be more hostile to him

#jason's death was decided by one fan who rigged the vote #robin #batman #jason todd #mine #i don't know if the story is true but #it's significant i think how tru it feels #there's an arbitrariness to it all that's sooo palpable n so heartbreaking #this little boy looking for his mom #murdered because a collective of strangers found him less likeable than their personal favorite kid-superhero #also just love joker's presentation #as like #a dog that the narrative sics on a character whenever it's tired of them #god this character #obsessed

[doriannunderground]

The only Jason that I like is Jason Todd. No one else 🙄🖐️

#I love him sm #Hes like marriage material #Aside from the fact he's a crime lord #But still #red hood #jason todd #batfam #Batboys #Batman #Screw Jason from ST #Don't like that guy #stranger things

[forgotten-daydreamer]

fyi that person that wrote the jack related post is just 14

Are they? I didn't bother checking their bio before but yeah, they sound like it. Now that I know they are a child (like, not as an insult - I'm a wholeass decade older, let me have this) I'm even less confused about what went on. Let's not antagonise anyone though. Enough with this thing, I think we've all got better things to do and they sort of apologised, it's good enough for me, okay? They surely could've and should've just spent 0.2 reading the post thoroughly instead of attacking me first, sure, but... they're 14. Not excusing them, but also not saying that their age doesn't matter - had a peer of mine answered like that, I'd have been way more worried for their sanity and maturity. But oh well, they said sorry (although the post is still there I guess? Haven't checked in the past three hrs) and that's okay, hope they learn from this!! If you're reading this, it's all good. Just please, read next time.

#i am a teacher at heart unfortunately so #even if i always say “don't use the ”i'm a minor!!“ excuse to be a dick because idgaf”... i do actually give a fuck #i'm *the* jason todd. don't harm kids. ever. not even verbally. not even online. #and until you turn 18 you are a child. and deserve all the good things that come with it. protection love and understanding #so yeah that person needs to chill the fuck out but again. they're 14. it's all good #everyone is so bloodthirsty on here but like. chill #let's not fight random strangers

[cablecar-s]

to love and self loathe

Note :

I also have an AO3 if you guys wanted to check it out 👉👈. It's just tlsl again (it's like two chapters ahead but I plan to post the rest of the chapters here too, just thought I would share it somewhere else :]).

Reblogs and likes help a lot as well! Enjoy reading!

Part 1

And Make It Double

Jason wasn't fond of going to the Batcave often. Hell he didn't like going to Wayne Manor at all. It only meant that he had to see the others. Even though he was able to reconcile with everyone, it didn't mean that it wasn't still awkward to interact with them all. 

But whatever it was that he found in that alleyway couldn't be ignored. So, instead of heading to the batcave where he has to face everyone, he instead links his comms with Barbara.

"You there Oracle?" His voice, distorted from the voice modulator installed in his helmet called out.

"Oracle here, need something Red Hood?" Her voice called back. 

A hint of a smile appeared on his lips, a bit of nostalgia and reminiscence washing over him for a moment.

"I have a bit of a problem here." Jason looked over at the knocked out men, strung together with the mysterious webs.

"Do you need backup?" She questioned.

He shook his head, though she couldn't see it. "No, just a concern if anything. Found a few guys strung together what seemed to be.. Spider webs? I don't fuckin' know." 

It went quiet for a moment, Jason looking around, making sure no one was going to jump him. 

"Found something." She hummed, earning Jason's attention. "Couldn't find anything spider related in Gotham, but there's a vigilante in New York that goes by Spider-Woman, could be that."

The second Robin's brows furrowed. "The hell is she doing in Gotham?" 

"No clue, but reading through the latest news it says that she's been gone for a few months already, after defeating some guy named Green Goblin." Her eyes quickly skimmed through the article.

"Is she trouble?" He questions, his attention being pulled towards one of the men who were beginning to wake up.

"The Daily Bugle says she is.." She trailed. "Though from other sources people are calling her a hero. Lot of mixed opinions about her from New Yorkers. She's done nothing bad though." 

Jason only hummed, taking his gun out before hitting the waking criminal in the back of his head with the butt of his gun, knocking the guy out once more.

"No crimes or anything? What about suspicious movements before her disappearance?" He asked further.

Barbara let out a small hum. "Nope. She had been terrorizing a few criminals who all had similar characteristics for some time, but that was in the beginning of her first appearance. And after she defeated the Green Goblin she disappeared after that night."

"Revenge." Jason thought out loud to himself, that was the only conclusion he could come to. "Think she came to Gotham to see if she could find the guy here?" 

"Doubt it. It's been a few years already, I'm sure she's over it by now."

Jason also doubted that she was over it, he would know; he was dead set on revenge for seven years. A grimace appeared on his face, seeming to stare into nothingness, remembering how he was before he was barely able to reconcile with Bruce and the others.

"You still there Red Hood?" Barbara called out, breaking him out of his small trance.

"Uh, yeah, sorry, just thinking." He muttered. "Call GCPD over to pick these guys up. They're in one of the alleys on 41st street."

"On it." 

Taking out his grappling hook, Jason flew off into the night, still linked with Barbara. 

"What do you want to do with Spider-Woman?"

"Lets keep an eye out for her, we still don't know her motives for coming to Gotham." Jason swung from building to building, beginning to feel water droplets fall on his body, the rain of Gotham finally coming for the night.

"Alright, I'll notify the others about her now."

"Sounds good, thanks Oracle." He perched himself on one of the gargoyles that were built on one of the many buildings of Gotham, about to hang up til—

"Hey Jace." Barbara called out softly.

Oh god. Jason already knew what Barbara was going to ask him, it made his throat close up a bit, his heart rate beginning to pick up.

"Ye-ah?" 

Of course his voice had to fucking crack.

"Will you be coming to the mansion to celebrate Damian's birthday next week?"

Jason stayed silent for a moment. Of course he was going to go, he had already bought the demon brat's present a few days ago, it was just a matter of gaining the confidence to step foot in Wayne Manor.

"Still there Jason?" She called out. 

Crap he took too long. 

"Oh, yeah. Yeah I'll– I'll be coming." He cleared his throat, his eyes scanning into the streets of Crime Alley. 

"Okay, just double checking." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Everyone'll be excited to see you, don't sweat it." She assured him. "Need anything else before I go back to the others?" 

He swallowed hard, trying to retain whatever cool he had left. "No, I'm fine."

"Alright, Oracle out." 

Her voice crackled before leaving the line, which left Jason alone with his thoughts.

God he was so not ready for next week

---

The next night, Jason had kept a sharp eye out for this Spider-Woman Barbara had told him about. He'd done a bit of digging himself. He watched a few videos that a few civilians had taken of her. He studied her fighting style, what she looked like. 

Of course, he tried to find out who this Spider-Woman was in the first place, but it seemed no one had any clues as to who she was. 

It's fine though. It's not like Jason was actively searching as to who she was, he just needed to make sure she stayed out of his way, out of Gotham's business.

Swinging from building to building once more, Jason kept his eyes on the alleys and small streets before deciding to land on the roof of a building. His boots crunched under the gravel when landing, a more softer crunch sounding behind him.

"Todd." The young voice called out.

A voice he knew all too well.

"Demon bird." Jason greeted. 

"I am told that you will be making it to the gathering." Damian stood next to his older brother, looking down at the city with him.

"If you mean your birthday party then yeah." The second Robin couldn't help but roll his eyes a bit. "Just not the big one B will be holding. Y'know, still dead and stuff." 

The youngest Robin could only suck his teeth. "Not like you were needed there anyways." He muttered.

Jason glanced over at the pre-teen, a small smile on his lips as he brought his hand up to ruffle his hair. He could spot his tough guy act from miles away, he and Damian were two sides of the same coin after all. 

"Sorry, someone's gotta keep Gotham safe while all the bats and birds are out partying for the night." He chuckled.

Damian only swatted at Jason's hand, grumbling to himself. 

"I do not care if you come or not." He muttered.

Jason couldn't help but smile slightly at this, pulling his hand back.

"Whatever you say."

Damian opened his mouth, ready to make a retort, but he only sucked his teeth once more, his hand going up to his ear.

"Robin present."

There was a brief silence, the young Robin seeming to be listening to what was being said to him. "Understood." He muttered.

"I am needed at a warehouse." He looked up at his older brother who only nodded, seeming looking down at the streets.

"Alright. See you later." Jason's eyes were glued on a woman who seemed to be in a hurry, a few plastic bags hanging from her arms. From afar, he saw a few men stalking her a few feet away.

He began to make his way down to her, standing behind her in the shadows. She didn't seem to have noticed him just yet, seeming distracted with trying to take a picture of the Robin flying above her.

Though as she takes a step back and bumps into his chest, she slowly turned around, taking notice of the vigilante that towered over her.

Jason squinted his eyes behind his helmet as her phone let out a soft click and the flash had gone off.

His helmet scanned her body, a small box popping at the top right, showing him that her heart rate had slightly quickened, not surprising.

"You do know you make a pretty easy target with all those bags you're holding." He spoke, his voice distorted as usual.

"Good thing I was making my way home then." She chuckled nervously. 

She had stared at where his eyes were supposed to be, only to then look away, her heart rate rising even more.

"I'll go with you then, unless you want them to take you instead." He nodded his head behind her, making her turn her head and see the men.

Jason took a step into the dim street lighting and stared straight at them, making the men quickly scatter, not wanting to be involved with the infamous Red Hood.

"Oh uh, no that won't be necessary." She let out another nervous laugh. "My apartment isn't that far from here and uh..." She glanced up at the Red Hood before quickly looking away, intimidated by his large build and towering body.

It was quiet, Jason staring her down. He couldn't lie she was acting a bit suspicious, though then again it could be her being frightened since it was Red Hood who was standing in front of her.

"You're not serious are you?" He finally spoke out. "Gotham's filled with criminals, and no offense, I'm sure you're capable of defending yourself, but you're a woman. You're better off with me walking you home." He crossed his arms, shifting his weight onto one leg.

He was right. Although she could handle a few thugs, she didn't bring her web shooters with her this time. If any of them decided to pull a gun on her, it was most likely over.

The secret vigilante stayed quiet, biting the inside of her cheek, trying to think of something else to say, just so she didn't have to interact anymore with the more scarier of vigilantes she's looked up. 

"Uh well.." She cleared her throat, looking up at him, trying her best to calm her racing heart, her senses heightening from her anxiety. 

She thought hard, looking at the man who stared at her, waiting for a reply from her. Her brain did it's hardest to rack something up, until she remembered all the news she's read about him.

Bingo.

"Wouldn't it be more dangerous if you were to walk with me?" She questioned, giving him an innocent smile.

He tilted his head a bit at this. "Is that so?"

The spider quickly nodded, her smile ever growing a tiny bit more larger at her quick thinking. "If you think about it, if people on the street were to see you walking me to my apartment wouldn't that technically endanger me even more? Since, y'know, you are the big bad Red Hood. I'm sure you have plenty of enemies that want your head."

Her hands moved around a bit as she talked, Jason only watching and listening to her ramble in slight amusement.

"And if they were to see you walking me home then they can only think that I'm some sort of weakness for you, which, I'm really not but hey they don't know." She chuckled, looking up at him.

Her long pause made the air almost seem a bit awkward for her, making her shift a bit. Letting out another laugh, she cleared her throat once more, straightening her posture a bit.

"So.. Thank you, truly. But I think I'll be just fine going home without an escort." She smiled, trying not to squirm under his gaze.

"Alright." He hummed, setting his hands on his waist. 

She blinked, looking a bit baffled. "Really?" She sputtered, before quickly changing her expression, the tone of her voice changing as well. "I mean– Of course! It's only right that you—"

"I'll just watch you from the rooftops instead."

"I'm sorry?"

A distorted huff of amusement filled her ears as the two vigilantes stared at each other. 

"You're right that me walking you home would only but yourself in more danger, but leaving you to go home by yourself also puts you at risk still, so," Jason grabbed his grapple from his utility belt. 

"I'll escort you from afar." 

Jason's amusement only rose as he watched the woman open and close her mouth, trying to form words or another excuse as to why he shouldn't do that.

Seeing as how she wasn't able to come up with anything else, a low and short chuckle left his mouth.

"Well lets get going then. The faster you start walking the faster you'll be out of danger." He pointed his grapple at a building, his finger beginning to press the trigger.

"You really don't—" But he was already flying into the air and back into the shadows. 

She could only watch in disbelief, staring in the direction that he had flown off to. If she squinted hard enough, she could somewhat see his silhouette perched on a rooftop. 

She strained to see him wave a hand at her, most likely motioning her to get back to her apartment. Letting out a small huff of irritation, she began to walk into the direction of her apartment, muttering under her breath.

It was total silence while walking back to her apartment. Although she would spot a few thugs eyeing her from alleys, once they heard the sound of a grapple and a shadow passing over them, they quickly minded their business, as if she wasn't there.

The woman was thankful to say the least, especially since she was able to get herself out of a situation that may have ended up in her having a brawl with the vigilante. Just looking at him made her entire body ache. 

Even if that radioactive spider had increased all her senses and strength, she was sure that man could pummel her into the ground without having to do much.

Continuing to walk through the dimly lit streets, she soon made it to her apartment building, relief flooding in her body that she was finally home. Before entering the building, she looked over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the shadows, trying to see if she could spot the Red Hood.

Surprisingly, for a big guy who had a helmet that was completely red, he was good at hiding in the darkness. 

Giving up in her search in finding him, she made her way inside, the warm air from the heater engulfing her body once entering. 

Off in the distance, Jason watched as the woman made her way inside. With crossed arms, he watched all of the windows of the building, waiting patiently until he noticed one of them had lit up.

Letting out a short hum, he jumped off the roof, grappling to the next one and so forth, continuing his night patrol.

---

Jason quickly put his jacket on, not caring if his hair was still a bit wet. Grabbing his keys he had tossed onto the coffee table, he scooped his helmet into his arms before roughly shoving it onto his head. Slamming the door that led to the garage of his safe house, he pressed a simple button that made it creak and groan as it lifted itself off of the ground.

Getting on his bike, the two wheeler roared to life, the sounds echoing in the garage as he sped out, the doors slamming itself shut once Jason was out. Speeding through the streets, passing by cars at a speed too fast, Jason had hoped that he wouldn't be too late for the brat's formal birthday.

Jason wasn't fond of any of the parties that Bruce either attended or hosted. The room that it was being held in always reeked of tacky perfume and cologne, just like every person there trying to please Bruce.

A bunch of ass kissers that irritated Jason. He was sure Damian thought the same, so he thought making a small appearance would make it slightly better, even if it costed him drowning in old lady perfumes.

When he had made it to the Batcave and tried to sneak his way through the halls of the manor, he had a small run in with his favorite, and only, butler. After a small catch up, and a bit of coaxing from the butler, Jason ended up having to attend the party without his gun.

Taking a deep breath, Jason entered the ballroom having to squeeze his way through a few people in order to make himself comfortable in a corner.

With his back leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and scanned the room before it landed on Damian; his cheeks were currently being pinched and pulled at by a few elderly ladies. 

Jason couldn't help but slightly snort at the scene, amused at how deadly a glare Damian was giving them when they looked away from him.

"Jaybird!"

Jason's smile instantly disappeared at the resounding voice of his older brother. A bright smile on his face, he waved at the second Robin, having grabbed to champagne glasses on his way over to him.

People glanced at Dick, whispering to one another about the eldest, their eyes soon dragging over to Jason who shifted uncomfortably.

Just fucking great.

"I see you were able to make it." Dick grinned, lending out the other glass of alcohol to him. Jason only snatched it from him, letting out a small grumble while taking a small sip.

"And I'm starting to regret it." He grimaced.

The first Robin only chuckled at this, taking his own sip from his glass. "You see Damian yet?" He questioned, eyes staring out into the crowd to find the youngest.

"I was, but then I saw that he was a bit busy so I decided to leave him be." He hummed.

Once finding Damian, Dick couldn't help but snicker a bit now knowing what Jason meant. "He is the star of the show." He mused. "Hey, you don't think—"

BOOM!

"No one make any sudden moves! Or the brat gets it!" 

part 1

next chapter ->

#dcu #dc universe #jason todd #batfamily #to love and self loathe #red hood #jason todd x reader #x reader #female reader #no y/n #barbara gordan #damian wayne #richard grayson #bruce wayne #slow burn #strangers to friends to lovers #spiderwoman reader

[luvf4ngz]

In Bloom - jason todd.

Contents: Marking, Biting, Scratching, Possessiveness, Implied Sexual Content

Word Count: 464

Authors Note: Consider this a love letter to Jason Todd and my marking kink - taken from my AO3 <3

For the most part, Jason Todd enjoys the powers that he got from his dunk in the lazarus pits. Increased strength, increased speed, and increased stamina - things like that made it easy for him to do his job. To take down the baddies of Gotham and clean her from the inside out. To protect the ones he cared for, to protect the ones that didn’t have anyone else.

One thing he hated, however, was his healing factor. 

He hates how fucking fast your scratches and hickies disappeared off his body, leaving him a blank and loveless canvas once again. 

He always craves your marks on his skin. He absolutely adores the scattered love bites and dark bruises decorating his frame. He can often be seen in the bathroom of your shared home, body twisted in the mirror as he admires the deep carmine strokes that paint his back, or leaning in close to lovingly rub at the mauve blotches that stain the skin of his neck. 

He makes it a habit to show off your markings, often refusing to sport a shirt wherever he’s out and about - or at the very least a quite revealing muscle tee. His marked skin makes his friends’ eyes roll, makes his brothers give him disgusted expressions, and makes strangers on the streets grimace at him. 

He doesn’t care. He's shameless, especially when it comes to you. 

He always just wants to show you off, to express how fucking grateful he is to be yours. 

That's why he always encourages you to sink your teeth in harder, to rake your nails down his back harsher, anything to make those little symbols of your love for him last longer.

“That’s right, princess, there you go. You’re taking me so well, huh? Hold onto me a little tighter.”

In return, he’ll slam his cock into you faster, grip onto the soft of your hips harder, bite and mark you up himself. He paints your body like Monet, because to him you’re definitely as precious as the most exquisite work of art in the world.

He’ll never get enough of feeling how your skin gives way to his sharp canines, or how your shaking body feels under his calloused fingertips.

It’s the thought of losing you, of ever having to let you go that makes him fuck you rougher - that makes him hide his face in the crook of your neck and dent your skin with his teeth.

He relishes the sight of you the next morning: spread out on the bed with telltale signs of lovemaking covering every inch of your flesh. 

He can feel his heart beating out his chest, feel his blood thrumming furiously under your veins because you’re so wholly and undoubtedly his.

Just as he is yours. 

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

#jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #red hood smut #dc x reader #dc smut #sumi — dc. #sumi — works. #sumi — my love.

[sanguineterrain]

Jason is definitely the type to go feral over his best friend he hasn't seen in years. Hear me out: he's alive again, and not only that, but he's huge. Strong. People are afraid of him. So the reader is in town, walking the streets, and they meet again, maybe when he protects them as Hood. And reader is ecstatic to see Jason again of course and he's the same but also, all he can think is minemineminemine and I WANT YOU. mans is down horrendous for his sweet best friend that he missed and he's been in love with them for so long and now that he has them, he's not giving them up

idk if this was a prompt but i got inspired <3 thanks for stopping by anon

jason todd x gn!reader. feral jason i guess, but really soft jason. jason who yearns to be yours. jason who'd do anything for it, even if it meant one sided devotion... and also, jason who is loved by you. 1.2k words

****

"I don't understand why you can't come to my apartment."

"I told you why." Jason's posture is rigid but his tone is gentle. Because he has told you why he won't enter your home. Multiple times. Doesn't mean you don't challenge it every time you meet him on a random rooftop.

"It would be fine, Jay," you say. "I trust you."

"I know. But I don't trust everybody else," he says, words crackling through his modulator. That had frightened you at first; in fact, everything about a newly-resurrected Jason Todd had frightened you. From his height to the guns, you'd been sure that night in Gotham would be your last.

But then it had become clear that cheated death aside, nothing could kill his heart.

"You haven't visited in a while," you say.

You don't mean for it to sound accusatory.

"I know," Jason says. "Been busy. The Bats..."

And you knew. You knew the second you found out that Jason was alive that it would be like this, that he wouldn't be completely yours. He wasn't yours when he was Robin either, perhaps even less so.

And what's wrong with that? You have no right to ask him to be yours. To give you more.

But the recent distance has frightened you. Maybe it's for safety's sake, but your selfish heart wishes that he'd drop that for once.

Then again, there's always that dread in your stomach that perhaps Jason Todd doesn't love you the way you love him. And perhaps he never will.

"Well, I wish you'd call," you say.

This is wrong. You shouldn't be picking fights. Jason doesn't go dark out of cruelty, only necessity.

Jason sighs. "I can't. 'M sorry."

You cross your arms. It's chilly tonight.

"Do you even want to see me?"

He tilts his head. Dangerous.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to intrude," you say. "You're busy and all the stuff with B, I don't—I mean, I wouldn't hold it against you if you—"

Jason takes two long strides and closes the distance. You swallow the rest of your sentence as he backs you up against the brick exterior of an abandoned apartment. Your heart picks up. You're not afraid; the fear went long ago. You're just... something. You're something about Jason.

The last time you two hugged was after Willis' death. You'd wanted to wrap him in his cape, thought maybe that would make everything feel as small as he'd been.

Now, a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier, Jason clearly does not need a cape. Right?

He takes off his helmet, lets it hang on his hand. His other hand is by your head. You lean back, let your neck go on display. Jason doesn't miss the movement.

"What're you doing, Jay?" you ask levelly.

Maybe he thinks you don't notice this distance but you do. You don't want to push him to talk about it, because as upsetting as it is, you're still strangers to each other.

You are and you're not. He died and he didn't. You grieved and you didn't. You burn and... you burn.

But you're tired of being and not being. You won't let him keep you in emotional purgatory. If he's done with you, he should just say so.

"If you don't want to meet anymore," you start, and let the words hang in the air.

"I—" he starts, then swallows. He tosses his helmet to the side. He doesn't touch you, just hovers inches away. Jason smells like lilac and gun smoke.

"I don't think you understand... my devotion," he says, voice low. "How much power you have over me."

Your eyes widen. "Wh—"

His green eyes reflect the streetlight like a cat's. The sight stops you short. Jason Todd is hot metal on a knife's edge, and it would do you well to remember that.

His hands curl into fists. He shakes his head.

"Sorry," he whispers like a prayer. "Not tryna scare you." His chest rises and falls rapidly. "'M I scarin' ya, sweetheart? Tell me and I'll go home, shake it off. Wait forever. I can be good. Won't want what I don't deserve."

"I'm not scared," you say, and it's the most sure you've ever been. "Not scared of you, Jay."

He breathes a laugh, like he can't quite believe you. His breath is warm on your neck.

"You'd be the first," he says. "The only one."

This, you believe. This, you have wondered some nights, knowing that even Batman isn't sure what to do with a son who lives with death on his shoulder.

"You don't have to devote yourself to me," you say, because that makes you pause. Who are you to be his god?

Jason laughs again, strong and sure. He sinks to his knees in front of you. His white streak glows in the light.

"You think it's a vice?" he asks. He rests a hand on your left thigh, testing. You lay your hand over his, so he holds your other thigh too.

He hums. "You do. You think you're holdin' me hostage."

Jason takes a shuddering breath and flattens his palms over your legs. Then he leans in and rests his cheek on your leg, nose near the apex of your thighs. Your belly flips.

"Let's make one thing clear. My devotion is my only redemption. 'S the only thing that makes me believe I'm not all rotted inside. Makes me behave. In this world and the next, I'm yours."

"I... Jason, you belong to yourself, not me. I don't—"

"You don't have to do anything. If it's too much, then I'll disappear. You can carry on."

You stroke the exposed side of his face. He looks up at you.

He is still. You have made him still.

"I'm yours too," you say.

He shakes his head. "You don't hafta—"

"Do you think being yours is a curse?" you ask, gaze sharp.

"Don't promise something for balance's sake," he rasps. "I'll be yours without you being mine."

Your heart is still. He has made it still.

"I'll keep coming back," Jason whispers, eyes wide. "If you're mine, I can't leave. Y'don't know what you're doing. Don't give yourself to me."

"I do. I'm yours."

His grip tightens around your legs. Jason shakes his head.

"Don't do it," he says into your thigh. "I shouldn't have anyone. I'm-I'm only meant to be yours. Nobody's mine."

But you know. You can slide your finger along his teeth and he'll wait with his mouth open. You can touch his edges and he'll turn his cheek so you won't nick your finger. He would sooner chew his own tongue.

"It's alright," you say, and kneel. You dirty your knees right alongside him. "It's okay, Jason. I know what I'm doing."

His breath hitches. Jason presses you into the brick, tucks his face into your neck. His arms wrap tightly around your waist.

"Sorry," he whispers frantically. "'M sorry. You can push me away. Sorry."

"I won't do that." You hold him and let him take you. "I know you're good. I thought—I thought you were pulling away, and I..."

"I was," he admits, muffled in your skin. "'M sorry. Was the only way I could think of to let you go. You deserve better. Couldn't think 'round you, honeylove. Knew it was a death sentence when I found out that you still lived in Gotham."

"It wasn't," you say. "Best thing that's ever happened to me."

Jason huffs. "You say that now, but..."

"No. I say it now and I'll say it again. Keep me, Jason. I'll keep you too."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood fanfiction #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd x yn #jason todd x gender neutral reader #inbox #blurb

[orionremastered]

By any chance would you consider writing fwb with feelings headcanons for the boys 👀

Any chance? Any CHANCE?

Masterlist

Not Just Friends

Dick Grayson

His favourite thing in the entire world is to snuggle with you while watching movies together

He was so happy when you proposed the idea of friends with benefits but 'no feelings attached'

He wasn't happy with the last part though

Sometimes without warning he'll hold your jaw in his hand and run his thumb over your bottom lip

He realised he had feelings when you said you were talking to someone and planning to go on a date with them

Little did he know you had feelings for him too and you didn't want to go on the date with a stranger but with him. you cancelled the date thirty minutes before, unable to feel guilty

You ran to his door and confessed to him when he opened it and he probably fell in love with you then and there.

Jason Todd

Jason was the one to propose the friends with benefits agreement

and it bit him in the ass

He started getting feelings for you when you held him after he had a bad nightmare

subconsciously rubs your inner thigh whenever you're wearing shorts

The times you've let slip that some guy has been bothering you, you tell him 'it's fine, they won't do anything'

he beats them up anyway (as Red Hood, of course)

You told him you were going on a date with someone and he was dead silent

You came back to him after the date crying, telling him that the man was trying to kidnap you, probably for human trafficking

He held you in his arms all night while you cried and at one point he thinks he heard you say 'I just want to be with you'

He thinks he was hallucinating

Beats up the guy and goes after the human trafficking ring with the entire batfam. No dear, don't ask why he came home at four in the morning and of course the blood he's covered with isn't his love

Tim Drake

You were the one to propose the friends with benefits thing

At first Tim was on board but then he started (day)dreaming about your smile, the smoothness of your skin and the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him

Coincidentally, that was also around the time where he started buying literally everything for you

Stole your card and gave you his because he kept finding out you were using it to pay for things, even just groceries

You protested at first but he told you that he was just looking out for you. it's really nothing out of his earnings anyway

Eventually he started getting impatient and bought you a ring, asking you to be his girlfriend

His smile when you said yes made your heart flutter just a little but you're too embarrassed to tell him that.

Damian Wayne

Like Jason, he was the one to ask for the arrangement after he caught himself staring. often. like, too often for it to be just a friendship

Even with all of his training, he failed to realise you were staring too (he's a little thick with relationship stuff. maybe you can help him with that)

Stands behind you like a silent shadow and is, in all honesty, terrifying for many (many) people to approach

Damian, like Tim, will try to take as much financial burdens out of your life that he can

He likes holding your hand in public, and other people pointing out how beautiful of a couple you two are is just an added bonus

You moved in with him because 'it's easier and safer to just live with him' and you agreed

At some point the two of you started to do couple things like washing each other's hair, attending galas together and things like that

You just straight up asked him if the two of you were dating now and he was like 'yes. there a problem?'

There wasn't

#batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam #batfamily #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader

[aalghul]

jason todd loved willis todd and willis todd loved jason todd. there is no proof during jason’s entire run as robin of willis having abused jason. jason’s reaction to finding out about his death and then jason’s mourning him at the beginning of ditf makes it clear willis was well loved.

catherine todd loved jason so dearly that he never questioned her being his mom. she didn’t have to do that, but she chose to. she gave him so much love that jason went searching for a stranger just because: if she’s also his mother, she must love him. it made so much sense to him because of catherine. even sheila could said it must’ve been jason’s love for catherine (who she calls his mother instead of herself) that made jason protect her until the end. catherine wasn’t actively “choosing” drugs over jason; she had an addiction and she was sick. she did the best she could, and evidently, that was enough for jason to have felt loved.

#the deaths of catherine and willis were a tragedy not a happy accident that led to him being adopted by the much better richer parent #dc has made an attempt to be as classist as possible about the entire family. but i do think we need to collectively reject that #catherine todd #willis todd #jason todd