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kingeorgey · 10 months

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i keep you clean (you surrounded me)

Jason Todd x OFC/Reader, 4.6k words

based on the Jason Todd fanfictions on ao3, written by Minniears and Janaswow . rosalie is a combination of the main characters in those books, and the oneshot draws inspiration from both fics.

please rb, like, and feel free to message me or leave asks / drabble requests! i highly reccommend checking out my ao3, just look at my other posts or search up my username on there. i just wanted ot test what happens if i post the full fic on here instead of linking to my ao3.

enjoy!!! :-)

The most stressful part of all this is making the calls to fix the sunroof. Really. And, honestly, truly, seriously, not even that is so stressful, since that task is reduced to an email for Rosalie. Admittedly, a hooded vigilante breaking into your property for the third (fourth? fifth?) night in the last two weeks was not an ideal situation for anyone but the window repair company, and at least the cost wasn’t coming out of her pocket.

What, then, had Rosalie failed to consider, in her attempt to bend over backwards making sure the vigilante knew that he was of no inconvenience to her? The (decidedly less ideal) consequences of the recurring vandalism-

His enemies catching on.

It had all happened in a blur. Between the fight or flight instinct, it was true that she had always drifted towards the lesser-known, and less convenient, ‘freeze’ instinct. The steely chill of a blade against her neck, a cacophony of gunshots and knife-on-knife scraping, and someone calling out her name had all fallen on ears that were as good as deaf at the moment.

It wasn’t that she was ignorant to the dire situation she was in, and the unfathomable level of danger surrounding her. Rosalie was an intelligent person, despite society’s eternal crusade to muddle kindness with weakness. She had managed just fine in Gotham on her own, and had not gotten involved with the many gangs and vigilantes of the city she called home. However, as life in Gotham went, the time had apparently arrived for her rite-of-passage gang involvement.

Everything in Rosalie’s line of sight became one massive blur of motion, shaken only when she was tackled. Instinctually, she awaited the impact that was to come- expecting the cement of the greenhouse, maybe a flower pot if they had been so unlucky. The result never came, however, and when she began to come back to reality she was confronted with the warmth of the arms that had her wrapped in a death grip, and radiated off of the jacketed chest that shielded her.

The scene Rosalie was enveloped in finally began to come into focus. Beaten, bloodied gang members were tied up to the feet of various display tables, droplets of their sweat and tears joining their puddles of blood and broken glass. It was silent, though, save for the voice of her protector coming into focus.

“I got you,” The voice rushedly repeated, the baritone bringing her further into the present moment. That was when reality finally set in, when she was no longer in a frozen stupor, no longer chasing the present second-

and, she crumbled.

In one extended motion, Rosalie was pushing herself from the Red Hood’s embrace with trembling arms and legs, bounding out of the shop’s front door. A series of choked gasps (that she hardly registered as being her own) quickly transitioned into a fit of sobs- which, for someone of her disposition, meant more noiseless, strangled sounds.

With legs that felt as weak as gelatin below her, she all but tripped out of the door and onto the pavement in front of the shop, a quivering arm pressed up against the brick facade. Droplets of her own blood soiled the roughened sidewalk, her gaze transfixing itself on each crimson bead instead of the door behind her slamming open, then closed. No frenzy follows- just the scraping of boots as the Red Hood sits next to her, leaning against a streetlamp with a blade-holding arm lazily draped over his knee.

“More will be on their way.” Breaks the quiet. The voice modulator, husky and reverberant, doesn’t strike fear (or even curiosity) anymore. It is familiar, and she wants familiar, yearns for it in a moment as impossible as this.

There are thirty highly complex muscles per hand. Sixty, total. Scientists of the highest caliber have been trying for centuries to recreate the human hand but have always found that something is missing. There is an art to the human hand- perfected artistry, from rolling wrists to feather-light fingertips.

Yet, when she lifts her hands to speak in the only language she can, it all falls short. Her fingers feel like pasta cooked ten minutes too long, and she is stuck staring at them without having gestured one word. Betrayal to the highest degree flashes in her eyes and, with her hands completely still, she looks up at the sunroof-breaking jerk she should probably be blaming for all of this.

She wonders how it is that an unchanging mask seems to be emanating emotion. As if, behind the kevlar and technologies, he might actually be feeling something.

Rosalie suspects it is pity that seeps through the disguise.

“I have a… someone is on the way for you, until everything blows over.” A trembling ghost of a nod is all she can manage.

Not long after this ‘conversation’, a sedan shows up with a flourish. The car itself is absent of any glitz or glamor. What brings it to life is the flourish of capes that follow- most notably, one accompanied with an all too familiar cowl. Were she a few years younger, Rosalie might have fangirled a little, like most Gothamites. For now, she continues to sit as she has since initially taking her spot on the sidewalk, though her eyes are now focusing on the newcomers instead of Red Hood.

“This is Rosalie. She’s-”

“How bad in shock is she?”

“Bad. Not hurt, if you’d let me finish.”

“Not that you know of. There’s blood on the edge of her sweater, could be hers.” It somehow brings Rosalie out of her stupor a bit, to hear Nightwing and Batman chide the Red Hood over someone as unimportant as her, and to Robin keeping a dead stare in her direction.

“She’s not speaking.”

“She can’t, remember?” Nightwing turns to Robin, exasperated, as Batman hurriedly takes over once more.

“We’ve got it. This won’t happen again, ma’am, we’ll make sure of it.”

Honestly, it makes her uncomfortable to meet eyes with Batman- metaphorically, of course. She can’t see past his mask. The greasy dinners with Red Hood had been much different, and they hadn’t even spoken a word to each other on those offhanded occasions, just quietly eating as she worked on inventory and a show played on her falling-apart laptop.

Batman seems to accept the shock as an answer, turning and leading his compatriots into her shop. When they are finally alone again, Red Hood stands and carefully helps Rosalie up until she is standing, his gloved hand firm around her upper arm.

“I’m taking you to a safehouse until the situation is handled.” Telling, not asking- though she is hardly going to argue with that solution, focusing instead on the warmth his hand provides against her skin, not meeting his ‘eyes’ once as she is ushered into the sedan.

In the passenger seat she tries to use her hands. Flexing, unflexing each slender finger, twisting her wrist. There is a great aching in her torso that begins to intensify as the shock subsides, and her neck is craned to look out the window for the entire journey. In the reflection of the tinted window and, in a moment where she has glanced just above the passing sidewalk, she can see the Red Hood looking over at her, a sustained check-in before he hurriedly averts her eyes.

The car ride is a strained silent.

She thinks that the vigilante can still see how badly she is trembling, even when her hands are finally able to muster enough strength to open the passenger door. Thankfully, he says nothing, crossing around the car in a few long strides to get the door for Rosalie and usher her into the safehouse.

Then, the strangest thing happens.

It’s not like a dam breaks- though, it’s not unlike that, either. It is grand and subtle and loud and silent and she stands still while her body horrifically crumbles into itself. All the air in Rosalie’s lungs expels itself at once and, no matter how hard she tries, it won’t come back. She is self-strangled, suffocating, until the very last second as dots speckle her vision- then, her body tortures her further by sucking in all the air at once and continuing until the Red Hood has hidden the car and locks the front door behind him.

Truth be told, the Red Hood seems shocked. It would dawn on her later that this, for all technical intents and purposes, would be his first time ever hearing her. And, of course, it was like this- horrible, disgusting, strangulated, this.

Or, is it not shock whatsoever? For now, he still stands inches in front of her, arms outstretched like he wants to do something about it but has not the faintest idea what that something should be. He seems confused. He wants to help, but doesn’t know how.

“Rosalie,” The modulator (surely not his voice) wavers, the arms remaining in their awkward half-outstretched stance as he continues. Or, tries to continue- begins to. Either his words fall short or he decides against saying what’s on his mind, opting instead to reach forward and engulf her in his arms.

Rosalie has a moral objection to leather, not even buying secondhand. She thought leather couches and faux-leather interiors of cars to be disgusting, and the handbags to be consistently gauche. The Red Hood, though, has a leather jacket on, and at this moment it is not gauche, and she has no objection to it- moral, fashion, or otherwise. In this moment there is no greater comfort that is able to be offered, and it is all she needs it to be. The material expands upon the warmth someone of his stature already emanates, and the worn material is unexpectedly soft against the few spots of her exposed skin that it meets.

The warmth, as well as his silence, aides in turning the choking sensation into normal sobs though, for her, even that sounds different compared to the cries of those who could produce noise. Minutes pass before she pushes the vigilante away from her just enough to bring a fist up to her chest, leaning with the other hand on one hip while making the circular motion with the fist on her chest. It’s a tired sign, something made even more evident to the Red Hood as he watches her shoulders droop further from their raised, tense position.

“Whatever you’re apologizing for-” One of his hands lightly swats at her fist, stopping the weak signing of her apology, “Don’t.”

The sigh that accompanies his command provides her some sort of proof that he means this. That he is the sorry one, that he, too, is exhausted from today.

Rosalie doesn’t figure the new stains on his leather jacket will help and-

Is that her blood?

Red follows her eyes, alight with fresh worry, to the stains on his sleeves and chest. His arms lift from his sides, turning over so he can assess the situation, and- yes, some of that is definitely her fresh blood from just moments prior.

“You’re bleeding,” He begins, ignoring the way she reaches for the hem of the leather sleeve and begins turning it back and forth between her thumb and forefingers.

Will this come out? -

Before she finishes her sentence, before she can go to sign ‘sorry’ again, he is swatting her hand lightly, letting his own fall to the small of her back. Delicately, he leads her to a washroom.

“Believe it or not,” He grumbles, guiding her until she sits on the edge of the tub, “I deal with blood pretty regularly, Rose-”

A comcially large first aid kit is pulled onto the floor to punctuate his sentence.

“So don’t worry about it.”

Neither of them say anything more as he begins to get all sorts of gauze and bandage out. Rosalie is zoned out, still reeling from her panic attack. Yet, she manages to catch the moment he almost lifts his mask up in front of her, stopping right before.

“I-” He pauses.

“Room across the hall, top two drawers of the dresser. Shorts and shirts. You’re covered in blood, so change and try and figure out where you’re hurt.”

He needs to unmask, and he must know that she is aware of that. It is true, however, that she is covered in blood, she obliges, allowing her hand to linger just a moment longer than necessary when she uses his shoulder to get up from the bathtub.

The shower sputters to life as she crosses into the bedroom. Granted, calling it a bedroom may be a slight overaggeration. It’s hardly a full room, there’s bullet shells and what she can only infer to be gun-related cleaning equipment strewn on the nightstand. Some newspapers are haphazardly taped to the wall with shredded bits of stickers from fast food restaurant bags, the likes of which show through a tied up garbage bag in the corner.

There’s no mirror in here. It’s a fact that Rosalie is most grateful for at the moment- the way that blood flakes off of her, dried down even though it can’t have been more than an hour since it all happened. Her face feels puffy, though from crying or bruising she can’t be sure. Faintly, she hears sharp breaths from the bathroom, where the shower has once more fallen silent. Rosalie figures he is fixing himself up and takes her time finding a thick T-Shirt and some running shorts, resisting the urge to fall back onto the bed and bloody that, too. The clean clothes remain in her hand as she finds her way back to the bathroom door, rapping upon it lightly.

When it opens he is masked again, leather jacket strewn over his shoulder and belt haphazardly looped through the waist of his pants. The Red Hood does not utter a word as he brushes past her, jerking a nod towards the shower. Rosalie obeys- once in, she turns the water as hot as the disgustingly outdated shower will allow, tries not to focus on the muddied crimson that pools in the bottom of the shower for minutes before it runs clean, tries not to relax in the steam for fear of letting her guard down and crying again. It is only once she has done this- tossed the towel aside, pulled the clothes onto her still dripping figure- that she works up the strength to look in the mirror.

She looks horrid.

Her face is bruised, puffiness subsided otherwise- her stomach, legs, and arms tell a different story. Black and blue from being thrown to the ground, more than a few cuts and two really good gashes on her rib and thigh. Rosalie’s neck still holds a bruised imprint from the knife, though little more than a knick is left as evidence, which she takes as a miserable sort of saving grace.

Rosalie makes a point to try and present herself as an optimist. Tries to smile, to brighten people’s day even if in the marginally important customer-servicey way. Tries to silently show waitresses and crossing guards she appreciates them. Consciously, intentionally, truly tries to be anything good, because she knows how- for lack of better word- sad, she can be. How sadness fills her full, paralyzes her some days until she has to call off of work and lay on the kitchen floor, limp. How lifting a coffee cup feels like an anvil, or taking a shower seems like such an impossible task, she alienates it until she can’t remember how she’s ever done it at all. Looking in the mirror, this is what she sees. Not the Rosalie she intentionally tries to be- the Rosalie she is. The Rosalie she works so hard to improve, all while forgetting that “running away from” doesn’t equal “improving upon”. Sad, sad. Sad. Sad. Sad.

An echoing ‘thump’ sounds as she falls back onto the rim of the tub, and she feels so miserable, she doesn’t even mind the usually so-irritating-it’s-scalp-burning sensation of wet hair on her skin. This thud must be audible, since a knock quickly follows, the Red Hood entering once again.

He is silent. Takes his time looking at her, she thinks, though it’s made all the more unnerving by the way she can’t actually track his exact line of sight unless he tilts his head.

He scoffs.

He falls to take a knee in front of her, swiping his hand to pick up a needle on his way down. The other steals a towel from a hanging rack and lays it across her lap, gloved hands as electric as flint and steel as they ghost the newly uncovered skin of her bare thighs. The free hand then wraps too-easily around her hip, adjusting her- and she goes in for a hug, out of instinct, when he turns his body just so. Leans in, arms around him, realizing too late what her physical instinct had done.

Red Hood pulls away with a bewildered jerk, and that’s when she fully realizes her stupidity. He wasn’t going for a hug- he had been adjusting her, to literally give her homemade stitches.

I don’t know why I did that.

His shoulders fall ever so slightly as she signs, gaining his composure before resuming his (close, close, so close to her that he can probably hear each quivering breath or smell the body wash she had used some of or-) position in front of her. He ignores the incident altogether.

“This will hurt. Don’t move.”

The pain is overbearing as she feels him sink the needle into her. Rosalie tries her darnedest to stay as quiet as he had when she was switching into his clothes- how used to this is he, she wonders?- though the effort is futile, and she surely triples the amount of time it should take with the pauses she takes to regain her breath, or squirm in discomfort. She is, after all, wiser than to do so while a needle hovers mere centimeters over her bruised skin.

It feels like years pass before Red Hood tosses the needle in the trash, tying off the final knot. He has some mercy, she thinks, watching him wait for the water to warm up before dampening a towel. This is some relief to the stinging where he has stitched her up, the final bits of crusted blood being dabbed away by the towel.

Really, Rosalie thinks she could have done that bit by herself, though she keeps quiet.

Rosalie finally drops his shirt from where it has been lifted up to her chest, allowing more access to the wounds on her side. Neither of them move beyond this. Not until Rosalie lifts her head, signing halfheartedly.

Are you? Okay. Are you okay.

In the bathroom is a light that has faded to orange, dimmed with age. It catches his mask as he shifts to look away, out of the doorway. It shines so bright for that single millisecond that she cannot help but cringe at the glare, no matter how quick it was.

“I’m used to it,” And though it isn’t the ideal response, Rosalie settles on it being okay for not. Not great, not horrible. Just okay.

They’re okay. They are alive, and breathing, and in a bathroom with a shitty light bulb. It’s okay.

Fueled by the newfound energy of coming to terms with their situation (as well as being physically okay, for the most part) Rosalie lifts herself from the edge of the tub. She stumbles forward, catching herself with a hand on Red Hood’s shoulder.

She lets it linger, turning to face him and lifting her free hand to sign.

New lightbulb.

Red is already lifting himself up, wrapping a supportive (and careful- he had been the one to stitch her up, after all) forearm round her torso while taking strides towards the bed.

“I’ll be sure to call you when I want a safehouse renovation,” He sets Rosalie down, placing his sole pillow vertically and rushing to find something else to prop her up with, “Maybe we can add a wraparound balcony, too. A chandelier, maybe.”

Swarovski.

“Glad you thought that was funny enough to waste time fingerspelling.”

His tone never once changes and, still, his voice is laced with sarcasm thick as tar, bubbling under each and every syllable. When Red Hood looks over, he sees a small grin on her, and a middle finger briefly directed his way. This, to him, is only made funnier by the fact that Rosalie normally tries to watch her language. He wishes she could see the way he is nearly smiling.

When Red Hood’s ‘eyes’ fall once more to the floor in front of him, Rosalie is sure to reprimand him for it, clapping with all the strength she could muster while coming down from all the shock. Upon looking up, he finds her in a most unusual position. Her arms are outreached to him. One falls, patting the space next to her.

It’s been a long time- if it’s ever been at all- that someone has beckoned the vigilante like that. With no ill intent. With gentleness, and exhaustion, and the air that it’s the most obvious thing to do in the world. That he should just go lay next to her.

So, in the most awkward way possible, he obeys. Red Hood turns, swinging a knee over her and falling on his stomach next to Rosalie. He’s since abandoned the leather jacket and, with only the restraint of his sweater and compression shirt, his muscles allow themselves to relax. For only a moment, he allows them to do just so, forgoing the usual tension caused by holding up the weight of the world.

In the moment, he had closed his eyes, though they open once more once his moment of calm is decidedly over. At least, he thought so, before opening his eyes to catch a sideways look of Rosalie staring down at him. Her eyes are lidded with exhaustion, managing to lock onto his own nonetheless.

Her hand lifts. She almost signs something, then pauses. The hand stays raised even once he registers that Rosalie decided against saying something. When it falls, it lands on his back. Up, down, and up again with a featherlike touch. He can’t help the way his breath hitches at the intimacy. Or the anxiety that rises with the realization that he is letting this happen.

“Did I ever scare you?”

You don’t.

“Did I ever, though?” Rosalie is clearly thinking over her response to the repeated question, moving to lay on her shoulder and look him right in his mask’s netted eyes.

Before I knew you better, maybe.

Then one day you were watching shows with me while I repotted some plants. And I realized I liked being around you.

Scary people aren’t usually that likable to be around.

I think you’re good. I think that’s why we’re here right now.

As Rosalie did her best to sign, her host did his best not to care too much about the words- which was, worth mentioning, going to end up an absolutely failed mission. Instead, he focused on the signing. The way that doing so while she was turned on her side prevented her from holding her hair back, and how it fell in front of her eyes, the brushing back of which would occasionally serve as the catalyst for the ending and beginning of a new sentence. How she, deluded from the adrenaline-comedown she was experiencing, did not shift uncomfortably or avoid eye contact, her gaze languidly moving between his eyes or wherever else on the mask her gaze happened to fall upon.

Red Hood wasn’t known for failing missions.

And yet, he felt nearly possessed as his hand raised up to his mask. In one swift movement it was disengaged, balled up in his hand as he brought himself up to lean on an elbow over her.

For her part, Rosalie seemed to wake up from her stupor, eyes widening.

“Jason,” He croaked out, swallowing a lump in his throat that arose as soon as he heard himself, “Todd. Jason Todd.”

Rosalie maintained her wide-eyed, slack-jawed look, though an eyebrow came to rise as she noticed her expression and snapped her mouth shut. Now she was sat fully up, comforter falling down to her hips.

J-A-S-O-N-T-O-D-D

“Yeah,” It came out breathless- something that seemed to bring a smile to Rosalie, and an equally breathless, confused laugh.

Why?

Jason paused at the question. Not for lack of understanding- for lack of answer.

For lack of confidence to give the real answer, more like.

“I just want you to see me.” He decided, an absentminded nod taking over as realization dawned. His face. What did he even look like anymore? A ‘J’ seared onto his cheekbone, scars that once made Deadpool wince for their multitude, surely some sort of black eye or bruise-

I do see you.

Jason snapped out of his runaway train of thought, looking (really, actually looking) back into her eyes. Finally feeling like he would burst, he did away with it. Get it out of the way, get ready for rejection for signs that seemed obvious but maybe he even misread because had he ever actually felt like this for someone before and maybe this was stockholm syndrome or he was taking advantage of the horrific way the day went and she didn’t even know him really and did he know her-

I like you J-A-

“I wanna date you,”

She stops fingerspelling as they run each other over with their words, staring at Jason still. Now they both looked like slack-jawed idiots.

Because, of course, they were both slack-jawed idiots.

I want to be your girlfriend, too.

She finally replies and, now that the hard part and secrecy and obvliviousness and crushy part of it was done with, they both find it easier to smile. Hers, Jason notices, lights up all the way to her eyes, while his is more of the hint of a smile.

She pays it no mind. Not that he can tell, anyways. Jason figures she is just appeased by the fact she can see him at all. He figures something grand should happen now. Maybe he should stand up and sweep her off her feet, kiss her and dip her like a tango dancer. Maybe he should surprise her with a penthouse or flowers or, at the very least, a dinner to outshine the 3 loaves of bread and vodka his cabinets were currently housing. But none of that happens. He sits there, stupid, looking at Rosalie. At his girlfriend, somehow.

Rosalie is the one who reaches out, running a hand through his hair. It’s experimental. He can feel her slender fingers glide through each strand, still dripping from the shower, one or two beads of water falling otno the pillowcase with a quiet ‘thwop’ sound. She moves to the nape of his neck- more new territory- and continues to trace down his biceps. Lightly, she nudges him until he is laying back on his stomach, and he is about eye level with her hips when he turns to face her.

Light hands find their way to the small of his back- up, and down, and up again, traversing each muscle, shoulderblade, and vertebrae. The muscles stretch with the intake of a deep breath, sinking back down seconds later, hands lifting and falling in featherlike synchronization. Up, down, and up some more.

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insomnishnik · 3 months

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thinking about dropping drabbles and blurbs about Jason Todd x witch! oc but idk how much of y'all enjoy that kinda stuff 😔

So plz interact w this post and lmk!

#jason todd #red hood #dc comics #jason todd x original character #jason todd x original female character #im experimenting haha

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emad13ams · 1 year

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Lillie “Thunderstrike” Moore

- more information coming soon-

#original character #DC Universe #dccomics #anti hero #lightning #superpowers #oc info #DC comics #interact #photo collage #tattoo character #white haired girl #female character #home page #jason todd #the batman #the batboys #original female character

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bookworm-called-bear · 1 year

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The Pennyworth Family

Alfred has a family outside of the Waynes. Well, technically. He is the godfather to a meta woman who got married and now has kids. These kids refer to him as Alfie, or in Morina-his eldest granddaughters- case, Papa A. Alfred lives for his family, but they don’t live near Gothem so he rarely sees them… ish.

You see his family are meta humans with unusually strong powers. So strong I face that Duke once caught a glimpse of one of them and claimed it looked like he was staring at the sun. So sometimes Morina- who had spatial/cosmic and mental/soul manipulation powers- would teleport her family in for a few days to hang out.

But you see, the Wayne family didn’t know that Alfred had another family. They knew he had an apartment in Gothem where he would occasionally stay, but most of the time he was in the manor. And he never really asked for off days so they didn’t believe he had anyone else.

So imagine Jason’s surprise when he climbed in the window to Alfred’s secret apartment because he was shot, only to see a tall, tattooed, black haired, Hispanic woman standing in the kitchen with a mug filled with green tea. He was about to sound the alarm, someone had broken into Alfred’s apartment, when she set down the mug and started rambling.

“God damnit, Papa A and his stupid obsession with helping super heroes and offering safe places and food. He can’t just adopt every stray he sees.” She walked over and grabbed his shoulder slightly, moving to lay him down on a plastic covered couch before getting a kit and cutting the fabric away from the wound.

“And of course it causes me to work off the clock,” she said, digging for the bullet with tweezers. The projectile came out surprisingly easily all things concidered. “Because I of course shouldn’t experience rest.” She took out her materials and began to clean and stitch up his wound. After she was done she stood up and Jason, mask still on, followed her until he felt something holding him down.

“No, you sit down and rest, I may not have my mothers healing but I do have her cooking.” She moved back to the kitchen, taking a pot off the stove that I didn’t see before and stirred it a few times before grabbing two ceramic bowls and ladling the soup into them. She grabbed a sleeve of crackers from the pantry and moved next to him again.

“Hi,” she said, giving him a bowl, “I’m Agent A’s granddaughter- call me Neutron in the field- and I’m typically open for late night stitchings and soup. Like tonight. It’s clam chowder by the way.”

Jason, for the first time in his life, understood what love at first sight meant.

#dc comics #jason peter todd #red hood #original character #original female character #alfred pennyworth #Alfred deserves nice things #and his family gives him that #he wears cuff links that Morina got him for his birthday when she was seven #Morina is a doctor #she started a non profit that teaches kids how to stitch up bullet wounds #she alternated as a emergency medicine employee and a field medic for gothem city police

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fluffykitty149 · 2 years

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Hikari: I can’t believe Jason brought me on vacation when he has work! What the hell am I supposed to do while staying here?!

Also Hikari: Hey Jay I’m meeting with some friends to rehearse a Six The Musical Act for a Karaoke Bar thing.

Jason: That’s nice, what are their names?

Hikari: … I have no idea but I do have their group chat!

#jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #not really x reader though #just using it to boost #original female character #japanses oc #oc with adhd #amputee oc

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lilacsandlillies · 1 month

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I was going through the anti Jason Todd tag because I hate myself and want to understand where people who dislike him are coming from and one thing I kept seeing was annoyance at Jason fans who claim that Jason is female coded and realized that the term “female coded” might not be the best term to describe what we mean.

A female coded character in literature and media typically means a character that has no specified gender or otherwise does not have a gender but is obviously meant to be a stand in for a woman or female. Kind of like how Starfire has no specified race (due to being an alien) but is still obviously black coded based on the way she’s drawn and treated by the narrative.

This is slightly different than what we mean when saying that Jason is female coded. It’s not that Jason is literally supposed to be a stand in for a female character, it’s that the way a lot of characters treat him and a lot of the tropes used on him are things that usually saved for female characters, not big buff men like Jason.

To start with, being Robin is narratively (or at least was) very similar to being a woman in a story. Robin is a role made to complement Batman (who we all know is basically the ultimate male power fantasy). Robin’s role is to be an accessory to Batman. Robin can be smart, but not smarter than Batman. Robin can be strong, but not stronger than Batman. Hell, Robin is often kidnapped and used as a literal damsel in distress, a role often regulated for women as a whole.

What sets Jason apart from the other robins (except for Steph) in this regard is that they were allowed to be characters outside of Batman. Dick might not have been the “man” of the story when he’s with Bruce, but when he’s with the teen titans suddenly he’s the smart one who has all the answers. Jason’s Robin was never really allowed this.

Then we get to the most, controversial, part of Jason’s female coding. The fact the he was effectively fridged. Fridging is usually only referred to as frigding if it’s a female character, but Jason’s death checks pretty much all the other boxes needed. An incredibly brutal death that was more about Bruce’s feelings on it than Jason himself.

This is especially apparent when compared to the other Bat characters. For all the female coding, the only other Robin to actually be fridged was Steph (and we all know about the misogyny surrounding her death). Barbara was also kind of fridged during the killing Joke. The only female character to escape this is Cass (to my knowledge). When you look at it through this lens, the fact that the only other characters to be permanently damaged like this for Bruce’s story are female, it’s not hard to see where the idea that Jason is female coded comes from.

You can even find this in Jason’s origin story. Poor little orphan is saved by benevolent billionaire is a role usually saved for little girls, like in Annie.

Despite what you might think, this even continues after Jason’s revival. Jason is still used less as a character and more as a motivation for Bruce. He’s regularly called emotional and hysterical (terms usually used to refer to women).

Jason is first and foremost a victim. A role performed by women in most media. Men are expected to be stoic and “rise above” the things done to them as to not be victims, as continuously shown by the way characters like Nightwing are not allowed to be effected by the horrific things they go through. The fact that Jason is shown the be angry, and sad, and emotional, constantly, and the fact that he’s punished and vilified for it puts him in a place much more similar to a female character.

There’s a reason that so many Jason fans (that like him for a reason past “antihero with guns”) are female. For most characters, when you swap their genders there would be a pretty clear and big difference in the way their story takes place. If you swap Jason’s gender, the story takes place identically.

A lot of this is best shown in men’s reactions to Arkham Knight’s version of Jason. In that game, Jason is similarly angry and emotional, albeit for slightly different reasons. He is also still unmistakably a victim. You’d think the men playing would like him. After all he’s a big cool angsty guy with a lot of guns and muscles. Instead, a lot of men’s thought that he was whiny. That his feelings were annoying.

There’s also something to be said about how his autonomy is regularly undermined by Bruce (specifically in Gotham war) and how his decisions and feeling are constantly treated as if they’re worth less than Bruce’s, but that’s a discussion for another day.

#jason todd #dc #red hood #for the record this is probably all unintentional on the writers part #and people who feel differently about Jason’s character and the role he represents are (mostly) completely valid #a lot of what I said honestly probably plays in a lot into the obvious classism surrounding his character

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jasonswhitetuftofhair · 2 months

Text

“Come at me, Baby”

Characters/Pairings : Jason Todd (Red Hood) x female!reader.

Synopsis : Jason and Reader spar and after training things get steamy filthy.

Content Warnings : SMUT. Slow burn. Poor writing. Lots of plot. Training/Sparring (reader learns combat). Curse words. Pet names. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasms. Protected sex. Size kink (barely noticeable). Oral (fem rec.). Fingering. Dry humping. Use of object as toy (Jason uses a muscle massage gun on you). Vaginal intercourse. Light bondage (Jason ties your hands w/ resistance bands). Reader insert (sorry). Aftercare.

Fandom : DC, Batman.

Word Count : 5202

Author’s Notes : First fic I’ve written. Like ever. Also, this is a repost; I originally posted this for the first time in October 23’ but I deleted it in December 23’ due to insecurity.

This week had been tiring. Multiple meetings, a lab breakout scare, a few late night patrols all on top of studying the material you’d been given had started to add up. All you wanted was to retire for the night, go to your room and take a nice, relaxing, long, hot bath. Gorge yourself with junk food and put your show on, and then sleep like the dead. But no, tonight called for an evening training session with your training instructor.

Jason. Jason Todd. Before you had entered the gym, you weren't sure if you would be up to train tonight. But watching him enter the double doors with his hot-as-hell all black tactical pants, skin tight athletic t-shirt and combat boot ensemble quickly made you reconsider. As if it was hard.

Ever since Bruce had finally gotten Jason to accept his proposal of conducting training sessions with everybody, you’ve been feeling like a sitting duck. You had been trying to hide your feelings from the older vigilante for a while now. A while as in since you first arrived at the manor. Nearly eight months had you been stumbling around whenever he was near, barely making eye contact and feeling like an idiot because of him. And you had been succeeding, too! Barely, but still. He didn't know anything and now with your new arrangement, how could he not pick up on the vibes you were sending out? It was only a matter of time before your feelings were compromised and you were left heartbroken and feeling like a fool, your friendship with him long gone.

It wasn't so bad, though. You had always been good at adapting and Jason wasn't necessarily bad on the eyes. It was kind of fun, too. His little dry humored remarks, shared inside jokes and just…him, made him good company. After all, he was your friend. You haven't known him long, but it still felt like you’ve known him forever. But that was the problem. Your friendship with him was too much of a treasure to have it be risked just because of a little crush. You’d rather be plagued by the overwhelming melancholy of your predicament than not have him at all. If the only way you could allow yourself to indulge in the feel of his hands on your body was when he was training you in combat, then that was something you were okay with settling for.

“Earth to Y/N. Um hellooooo, you there?” Jason’s equally teasing and concerned words pulled you from your trance you hadn't even realized you’d fallen into.

Your embarrassment quickly appeared on your face and didn't go unnoticed by him. “Yes! Sorry, I’m here.” Having been snapped out of your thoughts, you noticed that Jason had you held against him mid-air. You threw a punch at him, but he of course dodged it so you did what you first thought next. You tried to kick him in his side but he quickly grabbed your ankle and gently but strongly twisted it so that your body changed direction. Before you could lose balance and fall he grabbed your other thigh and caught your body against his, holding you to him. You didn't react at all, though, and his initial thought was that he crossed a line he didn't know of and did something to upset you. He called your name and you didn't answer the first time so he paused the lesson and brought you back to him.

He was a little worried, honestly. He knew you to be like this, often catching you staring off into space and likely daydreaming or stuck in deep thought. It was your expression, though. The mild sorrow, a little bit of adoration shining in those pretty eyes he loved so much, too.

“You sure? We can take a break if you need it,” he offers, gently smiling at you, “is everything okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?” he asks worriedly. Gazing into his eyes, your heart almost swells up. He looks so genuine, like it would hurt him if he hurt you and you let yourself pretend it's for other reasons. “Yes, I’m fine, promise. Just have a headache s’all.” It's enough to relax him just the slightest but he doesn't believe you. Your body language is just not convincing enough. He finally puts you down and lets his eyes skim all over you. He tells himself it's to check for signs of discontent or injury, but he knows he can't lie to himself. Youre just too fucking beautiful. He shakes himself out of it before the blood rushes south and gets back to the lesson.

“So. You really need to get out of the habit of kicking. It can't be your first instinct, sweetheart. You're exposing an entire limb to the enemy and you're not skilled enough yet to counter whatever it is they plan on doing. I know it's hard, but you need to really start implementing your upper body strength,” he explains to you, occasionally letting his fingers linger on your skin when showing you what the enemy could potentially do to you. You truly appreciate how gentle and accommodating he is when it comes to teaching you. You’ve seen him train with the others and sometimes his harsh tone is enough to make you jump even when his words are directed to someone else. He’s been so patient with you and the thought of him going out of his way to train your aversion-to-fighting self makes your heart flutter. You nod along with him, letting him know you haven't gone off to La La Land again.

“Alright. Come at me, honey,” he orders while positioning himself in the default defense stance. Legs strong, but ready to move. Arms by his side ready to catch and balance. Core strong and taut, chest puffed. Eyes on you, just as he likes it. He finds it adorable how clueless your little expression is. Eyes wandering all over the place, arms trying to find a good way to support yourself and legs waddling to their correct position. Like a baby deer learning how to walk. He hears your little words of encouragement to yourself and watches your eyes, watching the gears turn in your brain. While his focus is stuck on your pretty face, he doesn't notice your left hand curling behind you while you spin yourself around, pressing your back to his front. He grunts and catches your right hand before it can land around his bicep. You quickly move your feet backward and jump behind him, putting all your strength into kicking his back hamstring, but he’s already several steps ahead of you. He turns around before your foot can land and grabs your ankle, destabilizing your legs and grabbing your wrists, holding them tight in his right hand.

This of course leads his mind to other things, things that would involve this very position. You curl your leg around his stretched leg and twist your body around, landing you on top of him. Your legs straddling his abdomen and palms resting on his waist. He doesn't mind at all, though and senses a pause in your movement. He notices your tired expression, your flushed face and neck, the sweat on your hairline, neck and brow. You jump, as if just now realizing the position you had him in. You move to sit next to him and he moves into a sitting position, no longer back to floor. You flash him a cheeky grin, happy with yourself for winning this time.

“Did I do good?” you ask him excitedly and he chuckles, your pretty little smile having caused his heart to skip a beat. ‘Did I do good?’. That phrase would be on repeat in his brain for a little while, he could tell. The way you seeked his approval caused his groin to stir and he stood up, quick to distract himself.

“You did. I’m proud, that was much better. We’re gonna focus on your upper torso, now, okay?” He guides you to stand and places his hands on either sides of your shoulders, guiding you to stand in front of him. “I'm gonna throw at you, and you're going to block them.” He playfully wiggles his fist in front of you and you grab onto it giggling. Oh how he adores that sound. He sneakily aims and his fist appears next to your collarbone, you move your body out of the way. He does it again, this time it comes next to your left shoulder. You grab his wrist with both hands and block it. He doesn't miss the way you needed both hands to wrap around his wrist. He moves again, fist to the right of your face. Your eyes widen and he shushes you and you relax. You both know he wouldn't make a move to successfully cause you harm.

This goes on and on for what seems like forever. Your stamina has dwindled down a while ago and he can tell how tired you are. He thinks about cutting training early, but for his own selfish reasons he decides against it. He doesn't want your time together to end. Still, you're barely putting in any effort and you're certainly not trying to hide it from your instructor. His eyes haven't left you since the session began and he was very pleased with all the intel he’s received. Your short, panted breaths. The way your cheeks and neck flushed with that pretty shade of pink that suited you so well. Your wide eyes, how they seemed to sparkle under the annoyingly bright lights of the gym. How they seemed to water whenever he stared into them for too long. Your wobbling lip whenever you got a little too into it. How you went out of your way to put both of your hands on him, regardless of if it was beneficial or not. The way you didn't even move out of the way of his punches anymore. You just watched the muscles of his arms flex and wished they were around you instead.

“You gotta put in some more effort for me, princess. I know you can do it,” he tells you, cooing at the way you whine at him, silently wishing he would end training early. He chuckles. “C’mon, block em’, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes and try to muster up whatever strength left in your exhausted body. Your hands meet his and successfully block a hit. He doesn't forget how you rolled your eyes, though. What he wouldn't do to have you bent over his lap for that. He finishes with the punches and leads you to the equipment.

He stands you in front of the power rack looking thing, gripping your waist and holding you up, waiting for you to grab onto the handles on top. “Chin-ups. Fifteen of em’,” he tells you and you groan. He knows you hate chin ups. “Tsk, tsk. C’mon, princess. Don't make it twenty. These help with your shoulder and bicep strength. Use an underhand grip, palms facing you.” You sigh and get into position, starting what he told you to do. You made sure to be as dramatic as possible, though; you were too tired to keep the brat in you at bay. Jason, on the other hand, doesnt try to hide the way he is blatantly staring at your ass, thighs and waist. He burns the image in his mind and moves closer to you, holding onto your waist to make you feel secure.

You huff and sigh out, hoping he’ll give into you. Throughout the entirety of the session, his hands have been on you. His breath has been on your neck. The feel of his body on yours. Him in your proximity. It was frustrating. Having him so close, but far away. Little did you know he felt the same. His hands move to rub encouraging circles into your hips and you whimper out loud, to your embarrassment. He doesn't even try to hide his smirk, though. Once the exercises are done, he holds onto you, purposefully moving his big hands to rest on your ass, bringing you down. You’re done with his teasing and turn around, pressing your palms flat to his chest and keeping him at bay. You signal with your eyes that you’re not in the mood for the teasing and he coos, holding your face between his two hands. “Is there something you want, baby?” you whine and cry out for him trying to hide your face into his chest but he only lifts your chin back up so he can see you. “Come on, sweetheart, if you want something you have to ask for it.” “hmph! I want you to stop teasing me, Jason!” He smiles wickedly and lets you go. “Training is over,” he states simply and you sigh contentedly, walking to the locker room.

Before you can open it, though, Jason’s hand wraps around your wrist and you turn to him. “You didn't actually think I was done with you, did you?” he asks but doesn't wait for an answer. He opens the door to the locker room and guides you into it before locking the door. In an instant you're pressed against the door, cold wood on your back, and Jason’s mouth on yours. It's not much of a fight for dominance, his tongue having beat yours instantly. It feels heavenly. Not just the feel of his tongue in your mouth, tasting yours, but finally all this pent up tension leaving your body. You sigh into the kiss, Jason’s hand comes up behind your neck to grab the hair at the base and you mewl against him.

You were losing oxygen and his kisses traveled from your lips, to your chin, to your jaw, the sweet spot on your neck. His big hands wrapped tightly around your waist and the feel of his open-mouthed kisses on your neck has your jaw slack and breathing uneven. He smiles at the way you look like a puppy with your open mouth and panting, practically drooling.

“This okay, sweetheart?”

You were practically soaking through your panties by now and the tenderness of his words and low pitch of his voice certainly wasn't helping. You nod a yes and throw your head back at the feel of his harsh sucking on your neck and collarbone. He growls and spanks your bottom, “I need words, Y/N,” he commands and you whine out loud yet again. “Yes! Please, need you, Jason,” you tell him and that’s all he needs to hear.

Carrying the two of you, he picks you up and holds you against him. Your legs wrapped against his waist and he sits down on a bench, you still on his lap. His kisses don't stop and the feel is euphoric. His hands haven't stopped roaming your body. The feel of his big hands groping at your soft, supple flesh through the clothing separating you from him combined with just…him, was damn near enough to make you go crazy. You were tugging at his hair and pressing your face against the crook of his neck, desperate to smell his pheromones and your soft lips pressing kisses of your own against his neck had him hard against you already. When you felt his hardness against your tummy you gasped and tugged on his hair a tad bit harder and he moaned against you. Little curses left his mouth and you were seeing stars. Nothing had barely even happened and you were already this close to being admitted into Arkham Asylum.

Suddenly his hands paused their movements and his tone became one of seriousness. He grabbed your chin and forced your face towards his. Your pretty little glossed over eyes shining up into his had his breath hitch and for a split second he forgot what he needed to do. He could see the curiosity on your face, your teeth tugging your lower lip and he had to avert his eyes.

“Fuck, Y/N. I need to tell you something. I-I like you, Y/N. And not just in a friendship way. I understand—” he started but you cut him off, lurching towards him even more and grabbing his head between your hands, kissing him with a force you didn't know you could possess. He could feel you smile into the kiss and he let you have control this time. Not for long, though. He grabbed your hair into his fist and you gasped. “I-I like you, too, Jason. Have for a while now,” you mumbled against him and he grabbed your plump bottom with both hands, bringing your body flush with his. This only fueled the fire, though; his rock hard cock straining against his pants feeling your core against him had him clenching his jaw and closing his eyes, trying to control himself a little bit.

“I like you a lot, Jason. A lot a lot,” you whimpered against his lips and he smiled. You could see the genuinity in his eyes and the softness in his smile. He placed a gentle kiss against your forehead and then one on your nose and finally one on your lips. “I'm glad, sweetheart. Very glad,” and with that he grabbed your hips and shifted your legs a little bit. He forcedly rocked your clothed cunt against his hardness and your eyes closed, head tossed back. It was almost too much, too fucking much. You had been teased all night long and with all this foreplay you weren't sure if you would last. You tried to paw his hands off of your hips and stop your movement, but you just weren't strong enough. His devilish grin staring up at you, his pretty girl, had you whining and grow the ache in your pussy. “Stop, ‘s too much, stop, please, Jay,” you begged against him and all he could do was smile. “Stop? You want me to stop? But I’m not even doing anything, baby,” he teased. He knew he was teasing the damnit out of you. Even as you begged for mercy, there you were, still riding his clothed dick. You couldn't help but follow his lead though, your hips couldn't help but relish in the feeling of his hands tight on them, guiding you back and forth. Even if you wanted to you weren't sure if you could stop. God, it felt so good. Nothing you had ever felt like before. His hands on your hips and his mouth abusing your sensitive skin. The hardness of him grinding directly onto your clit. It was all so amazing.

He could tell you were close. He’s never had you before but he already knew all your tells. Your panting and labored breaths. The way you couldn't keep your eyes open. The stuttering of your hip movement. How you tried to get closer to him, even though you were flush to him. Gasps and whimpers leaving your mouth. Your hands tried to paw his hands away yet again. Think you’d learn the first time. His mouth went right back to sucking marks into your skin and he cooed at you. “C’mon, babygirl. You can do it. I know you need it, sweetheart. Just let go and cum for me,” he softly commanded. Hips following his words, your pace quickened and he ground you down onto him. His own hips jerked up and his cock spanked your core. Within moments the climax unraveled and you let out a screech. The white hot bliss greeted you and the power of your orgasm could be felt in every nerve ending of your body. You shook for a good thirty seconds and your vision went blurry. You slumped against him tiredly and he chuckled. His soothing hands rubbing circles into your back and sweet nothings helped calm you down and your high rode out. You lazily started unbuckling his belt and he grabbed your wrists, stopping you. Oh how you liked the feel of his hands grabbing you like that. “Tsk, tsk, Princess. ‘M not done with you yet.”

In an instant he was untying your shoe laces, kicking them off your feet and forcing your pants down to your ankles. His hands ripped your panties off and you were exposed. The brisk air was biting against your wet cunt and you gasped slightly. He raised you up against the lockers and wrapped your legs around his head, hands planted firmly on your ass holding you midair. The smell of your arousal and the previous orgasm dripping everywhere had him painfully hard. “Tell me if it's too much, baby, and I’ll stop, okay?” You whispered a ‘yes’ and he finally satiated his desire to have your cunt in his mouth. His mouth went straight for your clit and you shrieked at the feeling. His light little sucks on the nub had you rolling your eyes back and jerking your hips. Continuous moans leaving your mouth only encouraging him. He licked a stripe straight up and down the length of your pussy and his own moans left him. You tasted fucking delicious. Like everything he had imagined. All those times he imagined how you’d feel and he was finally fucking seeing for himself. He felt like a kid on goddamn Christmas, his hands tightening his grip on your ass. You were sure there’d be handprints in the morning. His thumb went to rub rough circles on your little bundle of nerves while he thrust his tongue in and out of your weeping hole. You started to cry out for him, hands pushing against his head and fingers gripping his hair attempting to pull him off of your pussy. Absolute the fuck not. He looked to his right and to his luck there was a set of resistance training bands hanging from a hook. He smirked and looked up at your fucked out face and he chuckled to himself. Holding you up with one hand, he reached to his side and grabbed a cable band. You watched his movement and saw what he was doing and your eyes widened. The kinky bitch. “C’mon, princess. Give em to me. Since you don't know how to keep your hands to yourself, I have to take em away from you,” he teased playfully condescending. He tied your hands together behind your back with the workout gear and he hummed satisfied with himself before resuming his meal. He was fucking merciless with his tongue and you soon learned your crush was a borderline sadist. His mouth wrapped around your clit and his sucks were harsh and unforgiving. Like a man starved, he ate you like you were the last source of hope for his soul. His finger started fucking you, too. He started with one but your drenched hole quickly accommodated for more. Soon enough you were on the brink of another orgasm and he forced it from you roughly. “Again, sweetness. You can cum again, cant you? Give me another.”

The orgasm brought tears to your eyes and you wouldn't stop shaking. Your thighs were quaking around his head and your back arched off of the cool metal of the lockers you were propped against. Toes curling, head thrown back, continuous moans and screams leaving your lips. Your second climax of the night arrived and you screamed into the locker room, little sobs leaving your ruined body. He let you ride out your orgasm against his tongue until he was fully content and gently brought you down, placing one last kiss against your lower body. He sucked his fingers that were just shoved inside you, not breaking eye contact with your tired eyes. He placed his forehead against your own and wiped away your tears.

“You okay, baby? Was that too much?” he asked worriedly. He didnt want to fuck up his first time with you and feared he lost control of himself. You smiled tiredly against him and shook your head lightly. “‘M okay, promise. Jus’ need you, Jason.” He smiled and shuffled you towards the mirror and sinks. He took off his shirt and laid it on the edge of one of the sinks he was about to bend you over. You realized it was for your comfort and smiled up at him, feeling your heart swell up. Even when he was about to absolutely obliterate your cunt, he still managed to be a gentleman. He unbuckled his pants and finally his cock sprung up. He sighed, finally feeling relief. He watched you stare at his size through the mirror, seeing your eyes widen and your teeth tug on your lip. He lightly guided you into the position he wanted you in and you sighed contently, feeling comforted by the thought you would finally be fucked by him. Watching him pull a condom out of nowhere and rip it open with his teeth had you on the edge of your seat. He sheathed himself with it and made sure everything was ready. “Ya’ ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked while lining his tip up with your entrance, smearing your wetness all around his head. You gasped and shouted a little “yes” and he chuckled, sinking in. Even with two orgasms loosening your little cunt up for him, he was still a little much to adjust to. Both of your heads tossed back in sync and you closed your eyes, sighing for him. You worked your hips against him, wanting to feel more. He grunted and grabbed you by your hair, bringing your head up to look in the mirror. “Keep your eyes up here, baby.”

Once you were fully adjusted to his size, he slid almost all the way out and then re-entered your warm, wet heat. It felt so good. He set a pace and it was so heavenly. You could cry with how good it felt. You both needed this, needed this release for all the pent up frustrations in your lives. Sounds of flesh smacking against flesh and his grunts and your little sighs filled the room and the smell of sex was heavy in the air. His hands were on either side of your hips and his eyes met yours in the mirror. It was fucking exotic. Seeing your eyes perfectly, watching the pleasure unravel on your face. Pleasure he was giving you. His pace quickened a hair and you gasped. Your hips moved backwards against him, in time with his thrusts. You felt him deeper and the perfect rhythm of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you almost hypnotized you. He smirked a little bit as he watched your fucked out face in the mirror. No thoughts, head empty. It was clear only pleasure was what you felt.

You didn't even notice him reaching above the both of you and retrieving something from the cabinet. Only when you heard the familiar buzzing noise did you wake up from the transe you were in and see what he had in the mirror. A muscle massage gun. For a moment you were a little confused, why was he hurt? Then you felt the big spherical head of the gun against your clit and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for the umpth time that night. He smiled and cooed at you from above. Yeah, he was definitely a sadist. He angled the gun a little bit to the left, wanting to overstimulate your abused little button. His thrusts hadnt ended and it was too fucking much. His pace was faster and harder and deeper now and had you both moaning up a storm. Your hands were finding themselves gripped onto the sink counter and you were struggling to keep your eyes open and in the mirror. He moved the massage gun setting higher and kept it firm against you. Your thighs were shaking and you were glad you were being held against the sink by him. You weren't sure you would be able to keep yourself up if you weren't.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Give me one more, please. I know you can. Cum for me, sweetheart.” You closed your eyes, feeling bliss about to erupt in you again. He quickly corrected you, though. His hand not being used to hold the machine to your clit came up to your throat, squeezing lightly on the sides. Not enough to cause genuine pain or prevent oxygen into your blood, just enough to give you that lightheadedness and in an instant you came on his cock. Your final orgasm was so intense and pleasurable—not surprisingly—and it lasted nearly thirty seconds. He removed the massage gun and returned both hands to your waist. His brutal thrusts as he chased his own orgasm helped you ride it all out. That blissful feeling that lasted longer than your orgasm did. All the stress leaving your body. Finally his sputtering hips stilled as he emptied his hot load into the condom and you whined, half wishing he was emptying himself into your wet little cunt instead. One day.

You both sighed and felt content again. You were sated and had finally gotten what you wanted. His loving palm rubbing circles into your lower belly, soothing you. He peppered light kisses on your skin and slowly slid out of your heat. He turned you around and kissed your forehead. All this loving kissing of his was making you wanna cry, it felt so good. Not just to be fucked right by him, but to have him, too. He was yours, now. And you were finally his. He grabbed your face between his palms and gazed lovingly into your eyes. “You okay, baby? Was that good? I didn't hurt you did I?” You smiled softly and nodded, “Yes, Jay. I'm perfect. You were amazing,” you reassured him with a blush.

He picked you up and sat you on the edge of the counter and got a washcloth from a basket, wetting it under the sink. He wiped the sweat and cum off your body and gave a kiss to each spot after it was clean. He helped dress you and by the time he was carrying you making his way to your room in the manor it was late. He opened your door and locked it behind him, leading you both to your attached bathroom. He undressed you again and turned on the shower. He lightly coaxed you in, seeing as you were so drowsy from all the night’s activities. He undressed himself and got in, lathering your body wash on a loofah and cleaning you. He wanted to make sure his baby was clean and cozy and content. When he was done washing you, he washed himself and enjoyed smelling like you a little too much. He carried you out of the shower and dried you off, clothing you in jammies and then put on some clothes you had stolen from him a while back.

He held you in his arms and you two cuddled each other all night long. You were his now and he couldn't be happier.

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scintillyyy · 25 days

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okay. so the thing with fridging--the thing with fridging! is that i feel like it's become shorthand for any woman's death or perhaps any character's death that was used to further another character's story and that's. a bit off what the *idea* was when gail simone first made her her women in refrigerators website/list. which, is still available and free to peruse at your own leisure here.

so when gail simone created the women in refrigerators website/idea, it was not actually meant to condemn any of the deaths or disabilities or awful things that had *happened* to those women. it's purpose, first and foremost, was a question:

(from the front page of gail simone's website, linked above)

i'll put the rest under a cut for length

all women in refrigerators was, at its heart, was gail noticing that female characters she loved often met rather awful ends at a rather high frequency. & the point of women in refrigerators was not that these awful things shouldn't have happened to these characters, even gail was aware that it a medium like comic book people were going to have terrible things happen to them for the drama of the story, see:

--it was a question on whether 1) other people thoght she was looking too much into it & seeing something that wasn't there (she originally posted the list on a comic book sites and the response she got was, i guess rather...vitriolic at the very idea she would raise questions about whether women were treated worse than in comic books) and 2) whether other people agreed there was even a problem to begin with. it was a conversation, not a shaming, not a callout. gail's letter she sent to the creators are there. their responses discussing the issue & whether they thought there was one was all there! women in refrigerators was not meant to be condemning of those stories that had a women die for the sake of a man, it was a basic starting question much like a bechdel test is just a basic starting question--not meant to be some gotcha, just the starting point of a much greater conversation.

and not every creator agreed with her premise! there were absolutely arguments about how bad things also happen to male characters. characters like jason todd and uncle ben *in particular* were used to defend the fact that women in refrigerators wasn't some big conspiracy against women in comics, that the bad things that happened to them were just conceits of the genre. others agreed with gail that there was a problem there (ie/women tended to be more affected by these things than me) that they should probably try to do better about in the future. other creators agreed, but then went to go on to justify why their female character in particular needed to go in the fridge. mark millar, who would later go on to write kick-ass said, and i quote: "granted, the female stuff has more of a sexual violence theme and this is something people should probably watch out for, but rape is a rare thing in comics and is seldom done in an exploitative way." ron marz himself responds to alex's death!

because fridging isn't about one death. it's about a trend of awful things happening to women, often far more awful and gratuitous than happens to men, at a far more frequent rate. but fridging also doesn't mean that every individual death or disability is a problem or than individual deaths and disability shouldn't happen. the problem is the sum of the parts, not that this one character was used one time specifically to give pain to another character.

which is why the fridging conversation generally doesn't and can't cover a lot of protagonist male characters--because of the ways their deaths are usually handled with grace, autonomy, guarantee of long term grieving, and a dignity that women characters aren't afforded. it's why, though, you can use the fridging problem as a baseline model for how characters of color and infants often are treated in comparison & why those of far more apt comparisons--because they're often used in similar, concerningly frequent ways to affect protagonist characters with no consideration to the thought there may be a larger problem at hand there. (consider war games: an event designed specifically to cut down what was considered excessive bloat of the batfamily designed to kill off steph & gavin king. why, when the decision to kill them off was made was steph even given consideration of a heroic swan song arc where she was given the reward of robin as a consolation prize for her upcoming death & an entire heroic redemption arc from making a mistake -> fighting to rectify that mistake and learning the true meaning of her heroism while gavin king is not given any consideration in his own death--he was a pawn in a plan he was unaware of, there only to get his throat slit & his identity used for evil)

#anyways actually reading the women in refrigerators site should be a prelude #to talking about fridging i feel

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feyinvestigations · 6 months

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Think about how Jason Todd was originally written in a very weird way in relation to gender. All of his most notable traits as robin (and arguably even currently) are more often ascribed to female characters. This weird gender coding for Jason Todd, specifically having as a child being highly emotional and his defining trait being his compassion, even being called hysterical at one point iirc, all paint him as an atypical male character. Those sorts of traits were usually regulated entirely to female characters at the time. And even though his currently incarnation is often conflated as a male power fantasy, a la modern Batman, the actual more accurate reading would be as a Victim power fantasy. Specifically, because his primary motivation at resurrection is revenge and justice by any means necessary, a common ideal found within victim power fantasy narratives. These victim power narratives that revolve around revenge are often regulated to female characters, making Jason stand out further as a female coded character, despite his more masculine traits. These facts all indicate indicate that the most correct way to move forward with his character is to have him be nonbinary. In this essay I will-

#LOOK #i think so much abt jason todd #jason todd is trans but idk in what direction #go gonzo go!#batposting #jason todd #look i have some brainrot rn #red hood #trans

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punkeropercyjackson · 3 months

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Why afrolatino Jason Todd works,an analysis by an irl afrolatina and thee Jason expert

His personality is EXTREMELY realistic for a black or latino and especially both man.He's cocky asf,a (multiple time!) mama's boy but mouths off to his dad with no hesitant and for fun even,respects women by seeing the female characters as either equals or above him,roughouses with his brothers,a big ass nerd since childhood and acts tough and invulnerable for the sake of looking cool but his heart's as big as his tits and a lot of his lines are so sappy in a poetic way i feel the need to avert my eyes when i see them to give him privacy

His pre-reboot Robin self reminds me of SEVERAL canon young black boy characters(Miles Morales,Oscar Pine,Zak Saturday and possibly more)

Duke is his favorite brother despite knowing him YEARS less than the other Batboys.Do i even need to say anything on this one

Every single woman he's been attracted to have been woc,those being Rose(half cambodian),Artemis(egyptian)and Dana(black).He dosen't like white girls <3

Further proof?He had KORIAND'R HERSELF throwing herself at him but showed active disenterest.For context:We're talking about post taking away her black-coding

Him growing up poor can be explained by being a second/third gen inmigrant making finding jobs hard for his family and to this day i remember when my history teacher called us 'a poor country' because of how much damage colonizers did here.Let me have this

The Joker killing him at 15 and him getting victim blamed and a bad rep despite what a good kid he was gains a new light if it's because he was a black child and so does him becoming Red Hood because of it.Also.Red HOOD.C'mon

The artist for Red Hood:Outlaws said he headcanons him as latino because he is and an iconic event a few years back was John Boyega clowning a racist on twitter by saying he wants to play Jason.Here's how the stars can align

African-American parents commonly give their kids greek names and the original Jason was a greek mythos hero!!

Let's be deeply serious,Jason would not have even HALF the gross fans he does if he was black.You think fanon onlys would be riding that hard for an afrolatino man seeking vengeance for himself with gray morality?They'd act like he's worse than Slade and the Joker combined and call him ugly nonstop💀Comics readers would have him all to ourselves with no weirdos getting their hands on him

Canonically almost entierly uniterested in casual relathionships,smoking or drinking so there's some stereotypes off the table

Selina,Babs and Kory have green eyes.They're all black in one way or another.Jason has green eyes.You understand

He's a classical literature nerd and latino lit is some of the best there is

Bombshells him is a spaniard and that's exactly the kind of move DC would pull with an actual latino character(the run released post the hc for him becoming popular)

Legoverse and webtoons made him a gamer.Hashtag cringefail black gamer dude realness

Something something the soft uwu black boy Robin is actually kid him and not Duke

Giving him a fridge ass build and a buzzcut in Gotham Knights was DC stereotyping(/BIG JOKE,PLEASE THERE'S ACTUAL REASONS IT'S SHIT)

Five words:Dominican horror folklore based tactics

Talia and his' mother-son relathionship is made all the more heartwarming and sad

Stephanie and i are the same person so she's black like me by extension and she's the only Batfam girl he really gets along with and imo this would also include Nell and Tiffany if the writers weren't fuckasses and went through with their actual good stories

Look up Aubrey Joseph vids.There's no better fancast for him out there not in looks but in personality

Trivia finale:His birthday is the same date as Dominican Restoration Day,red represents blood on our country's flag,at our schools we sell mini packets of neapolitan cream with mini spoons to eat them and his Lego movie is called 'Family Matters'

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mysadcorner · 5 months

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Hello! I have a request on a head cannon on the whole bat family discovering that their adopted sister is basically out in the world discovering tombs raiding them for sport, and getting dangerous artifacts to store them safely and protect them in the manor. Basically Lara Croft and I’m basically basing it on the unified timeline for the tomb raider games which contain the original timeline, Legend, Anniversary, and Underworld or LAU for short timeline, and the survivor timeline. You can pick the personalities for Lara from each of the three timelines to creat your own unified Lara Croft. Sorry if this doesn’t make sense I have been think of this a lot and was searching for any head cannons that I had in my head. But I would love if you did my request, thanks! Oh btw I love your work! ❤️

BatFam x TombRaider!Reader Headcanons

- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about which character you want in headcanons -

Masterlist Navigation

I haven’t written for ant of the female batfam characters before, so I decided to leave them out. Sorry in advance!

Bruce Wayne

• Bruce’s first reaction to you having an interest in tomb raiding and searching for artefacts would be one of interest. He doesn’t have a lot of time to do what you do since he’s always so busy with his business and helping people, so he’s inclined to know more about what you do despite him generally being well travelled himself but in a different way.

• He would be incredibly supportive of you and wouldn’t be able to tell you to stop as he also has questionable ways of spending your time. If he ever did have some spare time he would like to go with you on one of your trips, but he would have to schedule a bit of time to do this in advance as he doesn’t like to be away from Gotham for too long.

• Bruce loves your company, so he doesn’t really like to be away from you for long periods of time, especially as he’s always concerned about something bad happening to the people he cares about after all he’s been through. However, since you do this regularly and know how to handle yourself he will be reassured that you’ll come home to him fine like you always do.

• Bruce has plenty of room at the manor for any of the artefacts you find and has plenty of protection to look after them safely; he’ll even have the resources to find out more information or history surrounding the pieces you find. Even if you wanted to put any of these artefacts on display for a private crowd he’ll be able to get an exhibition arranged for you instantly.

• Because you’re constantly dealing with valuable relics and artefacts there is a high chance that someone else will be looking for it as well, or will at least have an eye on it once they find out that it had been found. Bruce will promptly make sure you and the artefact are safe and will deal

Jason Todd

• Jason has always had a bit of an interest for history so when he finds out that you deal with historical artefacts he is genuinely interested in hearing you talk about what you do. He’s always going to listen to you and will be one of the few people you know who knows the right questions to ask which causes you to fall into a deep hole of knowledge surrounding the things you’ve found.

• He’s very supportive of you and genuinely likes the thought of you travelling rather than being stuck in Gotham with him. He likes hearing about the things you’ve found while you’re on one of your trips and will be awake no matter what time you call.

• Jason misses the emotional and physical support you offer him, so if you are away quite often then he will struggle with this quite a bit. However, if the two of you manage to stick through this then he will be much more appreciative of your time together when you are home.

• Jason may not live in the most expensive place if he’s living away from Bruce, but he does have more than enough connections to find you somewhere to keep all of your finds safe. And you already know that he has plenty of men on hand to guard everything you bring back with you that are of value.

• If there is anyone that tries to get in your way or tries to steal your artefacts then Jason will approach them quite brutally. He can’t stand the thought of anyone negatively affecting you or hurting you, so he’s going to put them in their place before anything bad actually happens.

Dick Grayson

• Dick is always interested in the things you get up to, and seeing that you have a passion for something makes him happy. He may want to know more about why you’re so invested in the things you do, but overall he’ll be happy to hear about it.

• Dick is one of the most supportive people you could ever meet, and he’d stick through pretty much anything you decide to do. He may want to give you self defence lessons of you’re aren’t already taught as he will worry about you being away and in possible dangerous situations.

• Dick will call you multiple times a day if he can when your away on your trips, and he knows he can be a bit overbearing at times but he just can’t stand being away from you for long periods of time. Luckily the two of you enjoy talking to each other so much that you never get tired of hearing his voice no matter what you’re doing, and you’re able to express your excitement to him every time you find something.

• Dick will be pretty curious about the things you bring home and will want to touch as many things as he can if you let him, and he’s quick enough to make sure he doesn’t drop anything you consider as important. He’d hope that you would show your finds off due to how proud of you he is, but if you aren’t willing to then he’s fine to admire them in private with you.

• Dick will always be incredibly protective of you, so he’ll be keeping an eye out for anyone possibly out to get you or get a hold of the relics you’ve recovered. He may keep this quiet at first though, as he doesn’t want you to get worried about any potential danger coming your way.

Tim Drake

• Tim would be very visibly excited when he finds out about your interests in tomb raiding and finding lost or forgotten artefacts due to having his own interest in expanding his knowledge on every subject he can possibly get a hold of. He may not know much about what you do, but he can certainly find a way to help you fairly quickly.

• Supportive - Tim is very supportive and will keep an eye out for any new information he can get his hands on which may help you while looking for artefacts. He’s also good at moral support and will listen ti any concerns you have about what you’re heading out to do or if something bad happened when you last retrieved a relic.

• Being away from you would be a bit stressful for him if he’s used to your company and is suddenly left without you when you’re away on a trip. He can’t wait to see you again, and will try to keep in touch to see how you’re doing as much as he can.

• Tim always asks you as much as you can about the items you bring back with you and is happy to hear you explain them and their historical value in depth. He also looks into anything which may be related to it and will help you complete a collection if you ask him to in his free time.

• If anyone tries to get in your way or tries to get a hold of the things you have found then he’ll get everyone he can to keep an eye out for you, and will make sure no one gets their hands on you. He’ll always be worried about you, but he’ll also be happy that you’re doing what also makes you happy.

Damian Wayne

• Damian has been around his fare share of things which hold ancient value or historical context, so he may have heard something about what you’re looking for. If not, he’ll want to have an in depth and deep conversation about it with you - he especially loves conversations which make him think about things in a deeper way and has him mentally stimulated.

• Damian isn’t exactly loud and expressive about how he’s proud of everything you do, but he definitely is. If anything he’s much more defensive of you; he’s always prepared to stop anyone who has anything bad to say about you or is out to stop what you’re doing, and if you need something specific to keep you going then he’ll be more than happy to provide it.

• You calm Damian’s angst and anger a lot so when you aren’t around he does seem to be more cranky and less patient to others. He does struggle with this, but he’s also very strong willed so he is more than capable to wait for you to come back every time.

• Damian is very gentle with the artefacts you bring home, so you don’t have to worry about him breaking anything. He’s also very invested in the stories you have about your travels, much more than he is about the value of anything you’ve retrieved.

• Damian will instantly be aggressive to anyone who tries to get near you with bad intent, and will happily come with you on your travels if he thought you may be in any danger. They would never see Damian coming, and he would make sure everyone saw what he did as an example to stay away from you.

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gffa · 5 months

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Hi there! I’m someone who’s been following you for Star Wars for a while but I’ve become really interested in your DC comics posting recently, and I was wondering - since the franchise has been going for so long and has so many instalments - what you would say to someone who wants to start reading these comics/watching the shows/movies but doesn’t know where to start? Have a lot of the comics been retconned? Is there a particular order one has to read in? Where does one even find these comics…?

My interest in this franchise was literally sparked by the Jason Todd telephone poll so I’m definitely interested in reading more about him - he seems like a character I’d like - and the rest of like, the… Batfamily, I think they’re called? I just have no idea where to start lol - my knowledge of DC is limited to seeing bits of Teen Titans GO when I walked past my little brother watching TV, and watching the Lego Batman movie with him xD

Also! If I’m correct, after observing the fandom, Talia seems like an interesting, complex female character (with some bad writing), like Padmé or Bo-Katan? I always love those kinds of characters, just wondering if I’d got the right impression of her.

Hi! You've got a solid idea of things so far, so hopefully, this shouldn't be too hard of a climb to get used to the structure! And I'll do my best to explain the structure of comics without getting too lost in the weeds about it. 😂

INTRODUCTION AND OVERVIEW: In my view, comics aren't meant to be a single coherent whole and it's helpful to drop that idea before you get started because otherwise you'll drive yourself around the bend in a fruitless attempt to make everything line up neatly, when it just never will. There is no one single "true" version of the characters, there is no one single creator who is the highest authority on a character, no matter who created the character or even who is most famous for writing them, these are shared characters being written and drawn by a multitude of authors and artists who all have varying takes on them. The characters should stay true to a core personality and traits, but the flexibility of an author to write a character differently from the last person who wrote them is a feature not a bug imo. I like to think of comics as stories being told by different authors playing with action figures and we're in the audience enjoying these stories, regardless of how some authors fit really well together and others completely clash with each other. You can try to make them mesh (sometimes that's fun!) or you can just shrug your shoulders and pick what you like out of the pile of comics that have been handed to you (you'll probably drive yourself less over the edge this way!). Jason is particularly difficult on this aspect, because he often doesn't have a regular book to be written in and his overall place/point in the Batman comics is murky at best somedays and so he is wildly different from author to author. I personally enjoy this, because I think it works for Jason as a character who has some core beliefs, but also is kind of a mess who doesn't really know what he wants, so he veers wildly from one reaction to another. You can read comics in a variety of ways, but I genuinely do not recommend trying to read "in order" because it's a nightmare to try to keep track of everything once it's been a few years and the numbering of these series is the most confusing thing you'll ever meet. Instead, I think it's better to focus on picking up trades (collections of comics that originally came out in single issues, but are put together in a single volume that tells the whole story of that particular run) that sound interesting or come recommended. (And, honestly, it's not even satisfying even if you did do all the work to read them in order. Throw out the idea that comics have a coherent timeline, because they do NOT.)

CONTINUITIES AND DIFFERENT ERAS: The ONLY context I think you need (other than a general sense of the Batfam, we'll get there in a minute) is to understand that there are sort of four "continuities" that you're likely to run into, and this is EXTREMELY simplified/streamlined, so nerds don't come for me on this unless you have a better streamlined and simple version. 😂 - Anything published before 1985-1986 is all "Pre-Crisis" and while reading a lot of the older comics can be super fun, they're generally not super relevant to current comics - In 1985-1986, there was a comics event (an event is where multiple different comic books are all written to be part of a bigger storyline, whereas normally, they don't cross over that much, each book usually has its own self-contained storylines) called "Crisis on Infinite Earths" (which is different from "Infinite Crisis") that was basically a way for DC to streamline all the different versions of the characters running around into one manageable universe. This ran up until about 2011 and I'll often refer to it as the "preboot" or "post-Crisis" continuity. (This is where Jason's death happened, in the storyline "A Death in the Family".) - In 2011, DC wanted to reboot their entire universe with an event called "Flashpoint", with the purpose of creating an all new lineup of 52 comics that new readers could jump right into, which isn't a bad idea in theory. The problem was that people were really attached to the preboot versions of the characters, a lot of the Nu52 comics were really badly written, and there was almost no collaboration. You expect a certain amount of contradiction just by the nature of comics, but there were major issues with "nobody is talking to each other, so everything is a giant mess".

- In 2016, for a variety of reasons (probably including that sales for Nu52 had dipped back down pretty far again), DC rebooted their universe again, with "Rebirth", which is the continuity we're in now. I'm still catching up (I left when Nu52 happened) but I think a lot of preboot events are leaking back into the continuity, but that's not the same as saying it's equal to the preboot continuity in total. This is also the era that I generally talk about the most because I've found it genuinely the most engaging to get back into! Generally, as long as you understand those four eras of continuity, I think you'll be fine in understanding how things are put together. If you want to know where something falls, just check the date and that'll tell you! But, honestly, yeah, background details change all the time, so even within a single continuity there will be retcons--just that there are MASSIVE differences in the Nu52 era that might confuse you if you're unaware of the reboot shenanigans. (Or if you want to understand how Jason returned--like, preboot continuity has the explanation that Superboy Prime (don't ask) punched reality so hard that it shook Jason back to life, even if they never found out about it, that's what happened. I think Nu52 said Talia dug him up and put him in the Lazarus Pit? Don't quote me on that. I flamed out hard on Nu52. Rebirth continuity, they have no idea what the hell happened and I'm not sure there's an explanation. I just assume the Reality Punch leaked back in or something.)

SO, LIKE, WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH THESE CHARACTERS? AS SHORT AS I CAN MAKE IT: - Bruce Wayne witnesses his parents being murdered in front of him and this traumatizes him so badly that he withdraws from life to obsess over it, eventually travelling the world for several years to learn every kind of skill he can, until he comes back to Gotham at, like 22 years old or whatever and becomes Batman to fight crime. The only rails on this ride is his butler Alfred who basically raises him from the time he's eight and Alfred is working MIRACLES here, but there's only so much even he can do. He is absolutely Bruce's father figure, even if they rarely frame it in those terms, because Thomas Wayne (Bruce's father) is such an important figure in their lives and because Alfred is extremely British. - Bruce is Batman for a few years, usually depicted as being super grimdark because he's shut his heart against loving anyone ever again because the pain is too much. But then one night he's at a circus performance and there's a terrible "accident" where a little 9 year old boy (shhhh we ignore any other versions than that he was nine, dammit, it's important for the thematic parallels!) witnesses his world-class aerialists parents falling to their deaths. Dick Grayson's grief and loss spark something in Bruce and he takes on this grieving, angry, brilliant little boy as his ward. Now, not even God can stop Dick Grayson, who is going to get justice for his parents' murder, so eventually Bruce reveals that he's Batman and Dick basically barges his way into creating his sidekick persona, Robin. Bruce is not a fan of this, but seriously. He couldn't have stopped that kid, he tried. He could only put a leash on him. Dick brings light and joy back to Wayne Manor and they have the most fascinating relationship--they're father & son, they're brothers, they're best friends, they understand each other like no one else does, they fight like no one else in that family does, they love each other, they're so angry at each other, they're co-dependent and absolutely batshit about each other, they basically raise each other from the time Dick came to Wayne Manor. - Dick eventually grows up and starts clashing with Bruce more, especially as he gains his independence. Different versions happen differently in different continuities, but eventually it hits a boiling point and either Bruce fires him as Robin or Dick quits because he can't deal with this. He goes off to become Nightwing, while Bruce eventually meets another kid who (in the most common version) tries to steal the Batmobile's tires because he needs the money. Circumstances happen, Bruce eventually ends up adopting Jason Todd, who becomes the next Robin. Things are relatively stable for awhile, until Jason learns about his birth mother and runs off to try to reconnect with her, except the Joker's got his sticky fingers all up in this situation, and it results in Jason dying in the exploding building.

- Bruce is Not Doing Well after this, so in comes our favorite horrible little stalker gremlin Tim Drake, who hunts down Dick Grayson and says, hey, you gotta become Robin again because Batman's going to get himself killed if you don't. Dick is like, no, I fucking do not. Tim responds with, well, guess I gotta do it myself then and basically barges his way into being the next Robin. He bonds with Dick as a brother (who is far and way Tim's favorite, imo), he does his best to be as good of a Robin as he can be. - Things are better after that, they're fairly well into Batfamily territory by this point. Jason comes back and, originally, it was supposed to be a trick, it was a villain pretending to be him, but was later retconned to actually be Jason who came back and... it's complicated. I don't think they really knew what to do with him once he came back, so he kind of ping-pongs around with varying levels of villainy for awhile. - Then we get to the time around Batman R.I.P. where a lot of shit happens all at once, especially for Tim. Bruce dies fighting a Justice League villain, Tim also has his bio-dad die around this time, his relationship with his ex-girlfriend/good friend is kind of going to shit, the boy he's in love with (not canon at the time, but current day storylines basically confirm it was true) also died and it wrecked Tim, like he lost his MIND over Conner Kent's death, there's this annoying little shit Damian Wayne who has showed up as the bio-son of Bruce, and then suddenly Bruce also dies. And Dick has to become Batman because Gotham needs Batman and he's in mourning and dealing with Jason being back and everything OFF THE RAILS as various people are like, "No, I'M going to be Batman now!" and Dick has to shut all that shit down and take up the mantle himself despite that he doesn't want it AND deal with Damian being an emotionally traumatized 11 year old baby assassin who has been abused into being a killer his entire life (I mean, it's comics, don't take it too seriously) and he needs something to hold onto or he's going to leave and go back to killing, so Dick and Alfred give the Robin mantle to Damian, which pisses Tim off because he's not doing well and sees it as a betrayal (while Dick was asking for his help as an ally, that he was ready to graduate to being more than just Batman's sidekick) because he's lost so much. - So we have Dick & Damian as Batman & Robin (THIS ERA WAS SO GOOD), Tim as Red Robin (fandom way overplays Tim and Dick's tension, they come back together after their dramatic few months), and eventually they find Bruce who was lost in the time stream (don't ask) and then, WHAM, Nu52 happens. But basically, that's the Robins timeline. I'm skipping over Steph's turn as Robin because it was so short and it was clearly set up just to knock her down, as well as not touching on Cass much because this is long enough as it is and I'm trying to circle back to focusing on Jason-friendly stuff.

WHERE TO START: Ask a dozen different people where to start and you'll get a dozen different answers! I think starting anywhere is fine and it's going to depend on what you like--for example, I'm personally not that into the animated DC movies (not enough of my Blorbo) but "Batman: Under the Red Hood" is generally very well-regarded as an updated version of Jason's return and is nicely self-contained if you want to watch it without much other context. I also think watching the Justice League animated series from 2001 is fantastic if you want a funny, charismatic, streamlined adaptation of what the Justice League is like. (Batman: The Animated Series was groundbreaking at the time and a really good adaptation, but very dated by this point in time, so I hesitate to recommend it too much, even though it's beloved to me.) The Wayne Family Adventures is an absolutely adorable, delightful webtoon adaptation that is very light-hearted compared to the mainline comics! I like recommending it to new fans because I think it's super easy to start reading without too much extraneous context and gives you an idea of the characters' relationships to each other, so long as you understand that it is EXTREMELY soft and is much in the vein of LEGO Batman content--you're not supposed to take it super seriously, there are times it's deliberately crossing into something like parody territory, but that doesn't mean it's not genuinely funny, charming, and a great read. @fantastic-nonsense has an incredibly thorough list of recommendations for comics by character here, and you can scroll down to the Jason Todd section and start reading there! Or you can check out the "A STARTING POINT: BATMAN IN OTHER MEDIA" section because I pretty much 100% agree with everything she says about the various adaptations. I like recommending "Young Justice" as an introduction to DC, so long as you understand that it's a loose adaptation and that the team compositions and various relationships are not always going to be accurate to comics dynamics. I have my own comics recs tag, but I'm more Dick-focused, so your mileage is going to vary on how useful you might find my recs! But basically, you can't go wrong with starting with "A Death in the Family", then "Under the Red Hood" (movie then comics) and "Red Hood: The Lost Days". Basically, anything by Judd Winick has a good chance of being a solid read for him. It's hard to recommend Jason comics, because so many of them are either not great or require knowledge of the events that are going on around the same time--but, honestly, once you're familiar with the set-up, I do think you can pick up almost any trade and pick up context along the way. I personally also loved "Robins: Being Robin" series, because all five of the Robins working to solve a case together and being unhinged weirdos at each other is my jam. (But I like pretty much anything Tim Seely writes!) I also always recommend the 2016 Nightwing series because Dick is my Blorbo, but I also think "Robin & Batman" by Jeff Lemire is a fantastic story to understand who baby Dick Grayson is and his relationship with Bruce, and both "The Long Halloween" and "Dark Victory" are some of the best Batman comics I've ever read, but they can be tough to get through if you don't like Tim Sale's very stylized art.

WHERE TO FIND THESE THINGS TO READ? The movies and animated series should be on HBOMax and/or Netflix, and comics I always recommend hitting up your library to see what they have--so many libraries have a ton of comics available, especially digitally! And, if you have a library card, it's very possible that your library partners with Hoopla, where they have a ton of Batman comics! You can also check out DC Universe, which has almost all DC comics if you get a subscription.

TL;DR: If you want bigger context on how all this stuff works, start with either "Justice League" or "Young Justice", they're really cute, fun adaptations. If you want to get straight to the Jason stuff, start with "A Death in the Family" --> "Under the Red Hood" --> "Red Hood: The Lost Days" --> "Batman: Urban Legends vol. 1". (And, yeah, you have the right impression of Talia! She often gets written as a villain, but she's also often a lot more complex than that, it really depends on who you get to write her. The corner of fandom I hang out in is generally more generous to her, but some of the actual comics can be kind of rough. But she's complex and has a lot of sharp edges, so, you know, I love her, too. 😂)

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #jason todd #comics recs #long post

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