Critics Are Not Loving Red Hoods New Weapon Of Choice

Critics are not loving Red Hood’s new weapon of choice

in loving memory of Jason Todd

we're going to follow the under the red hood plot for the sake of this fic, but this came to me in the shower as all good fics do! please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any Batboy fics. and hello to all you new followers. welcome. I hope you love it here! this follows the Grayson!sister plot!

tag: @darth-vaders-bitch

***

3 days ago...

"JJ." Jason freezes mid-step in his trek back to his bike parked in the shadows - because he wasn't about to step in and save the baby bat replacement without a reason to - and very slowly turns around to meet your gaze. He would've glared the person to death who dared to call him something so juvenile. Coming from the person he'd loved since he was 13, though... he was okay with it. "Thank you."

He swallows the knot in his throat as you scoop Tim up into your arms. Little Tim, his Replacement, who is still a child and only trusts you to be vulnerable around. He's hurt. He's a kid and he didn't deserve what those thugs had done to him.... and after all you'd endured since losing Jason all those years and then coming back again.. he'd give you this. He'd let Tim live if it made you happy.

"Anytime, darlin'." He replied softly.

"You asked me a question, before." Black gloves reach outward to envelop his wrist. "If I still loved you. Here's your answer."

You lay a thumb drive in his palm. It's small, barely bigger than his thumb, and labeled with the year he had died. He should toss it into the Gotham River and never entertain the answers that are on that flash drive. He should let you go. Let you move on. Clearly the Bats need you.

But not like he does.

No one had sang him a song since the song of the countdown in that god forsaken warehouse. What hurts more, A or B? Forehand, or back hand? ha HA hA Ha hA!

The taste of blood in his mouth, the broken domino. The way he'd been so convinced that Bruce would save him.

The way he felt nothing but warmth until Death took him.

Jason Todd refuses to forgive Bruce Wayne for the torture he put him through. Manipulating the child he'd take under his wing and give the moniker Robin. The boy who loved Neopolitan ice cream and English literature and cooking in the kitchens with Alfred. That version of him is dead, but even then... somehow, someway, you still find it in you to love him.

And that's the best song he's heard in years. It rings with joy and hope and everything he's seeking.

Upon return to his safe house, Jason nudged the door open with his hip and slipped inside. He was starving and needed a shower. Some sleep. Clean his guns and check his security system, make sure it's up to speed. Instead, Jason sits down on the ratty yellow couch that's ten years out of date and curls his legs beneath him as he plugs the thumb drive in.

A folder with the year he died and the words In Loving Memory of Jason Todd shows up. His stomach turns at the sight of those words as his brain reads them repeatedly. Jason had been under the impression when he'd woken up in the Pit and begun being trained by the League that no one had mourned him. Why would they? Why would you?

You wanted to know if I loved you. Here's your answer.

You can do this. Jason opens the folder and is greeted with half a dozen or more videos, most of which are you and only you. They seem to have been recorded in the middle of the night long after the rest of the Bats are asleep and Bruce isn't around to be nosy about why you would be using the Batcomputer at 4 am. That was exactly what you needed, and it had worked.

Jason clicked on the one week after video and waited.

***

One week after Jason died...

Camera opens onto a dark room. There's a single figure that emerges from the shadow, enveloped in a royal blue sweatshirt that's far too big on her, and they come to sit in the chair that is meant for a grown man.

Little Grayson stares at the camera of the Batcomputer and begins talking,

"It's been one week, JJ." You murmur. "One week since Bruce came home and said your body had been claimed by an explosion. That you were gone, and that he hadn't been fast enough to save you. I still don't know why you didn't just let me go with you... maybe I could've done something." Your fingers curl around the cuff of the sweatshirt sleeve tight enough to turn your knuckles white. "I had something I was going to ask you when you got back home... but today we finally buried you, and that question died on my lips when we put that body in the grave.

It doesn't feel right, letting you go. Part of me, the part in denial, says you're not really dead at all. But I know I'm naive. I've always been naive. It's part of the reason why Bruce won't let me go in the field now."

Jason snorts. That's typical.

"There were so many things I loved about you. Things that drove Dick and Alfred and Bruce nuts..." Soft laughter falls past your lips as you rest your head in your hand. "But I would not and will never change a thing about you. If you are really gone, Jason.... I hope you're at peace." Your eyes meet the camera, dark circles just beginning to form and red rimmed from crying. Jason knows then that his death will haunt you. That you will never be over the guilt that comes with it. "I hope you knew I love you."

Camera goes dark.

***

It takes him several hours to be able to gather the courage to open the next video. Once he does, dawn has just begun peeking over Gotham's skyline and there's a steaming cup of the tea Alfred got him hooked on years ago in front of him.

You're way too freaking domestic for a serial killer.

Shut up.

He snorts softly and opens the next video. Six week after his death, and it's evident.

***

Six Weeks After....

Camera opens, and this time it's to a very obvious fight. Bruce is the one at the computer at 4 AM and he has his back turned to the camera, chair cast out of the way to show both his form and that of the younger Grayson. The audio is garbled and distorted until Bruce disappears off camera alongside a flash of gray hair, and then Little Wing is settling back in the chair.

Your eyes are dark. Way darker then he's ever seen them, and there's an air of loathing and despair that settles around you like the cape Batman wears. Dark as night and even more suffocating.

"I don't know why I keep coming down here. Is this a way to torture myself? My penance for not doing enough for Jason?" Jason's chest constricts too tight and he rubs at the dip in his sternum to try to ease the ache there he cannot actually do anything about. It's a phantom pain. Pain he can feel from you. "JJ, you will always be the best thing that ever happened to me. Let's note that makes Dick really jealous... but he can shove off and keep all his regal titles and all the things the obnoxious and overprotective big brothers get to do. And he's such a good brother. I wish he saw himself that way." Your eyes meet the camera. "I wish you knew how we mourned you. Bruce has been acting so distant and cold and I haven't seen him cry a single time since he brought you home.. but I know he mourns. Or at least I'd like to think he does. Who knows anymore. But he is not my father. My father wouldn't berate me for not being able to let the boy I love go. I hope you see yourself the way I see you, if you ever see this." Laughter bubbles past your throat. It's so.. bitter. Like the thought of what you just said is so utterly ridiculous you cannot even begin to comprehend why you said it. "Idiot. Maybe he's right. Maybe I am stupid."

Jason pauses the video before it goes dark to gaze at you. Your hair is longer and unkempt, like you haven't found it in you to have the energy to brush your hair. You're wearing the same blue sweatshirt that Jason hasn't recognized until now is his. It's highly likely that you wouldn't let Alfred touch it because it smelled like him. Alfie, you sentimental sap.

His fingers graze your cheek. When he finds you back on patrol, he intends to give this back. This isn't something you just throw away. Even with The Replacement in the picture and your obvious dedication to the Bats, there's something stirring low in Jason's gut that tells him you love him just as much now as you did then.

And well.... Red Hood is allowed to love. He deserves to.

***

The last video in the six is not you, but Dick. Dick Grayson is sitting in the chair spinning himself around repeatedly as he gazes at a small lavender box in his hand.

"Hey Jay. I didn't realize until about a month and a half ago that Little Wing was still making these videos for you. I'm not entirely sure why. Truth be told I think it's because you were you and someone doesn't just get over you.... which is why it's me in here instead of the little one." He holds up the box and opens it. It's a ring. A promise ring Jason had secured long before his death in the hopes of one day, being able to give it to you wit ha promise that he would marry you. "And then I found this when I was helping Alfie clean your room. You hid it in your underwear drawer, you scoundrel." Jason would've been lying if he said that Dick's laugh that followed didn't make him warm. Dick had always had that gift about him.. comforting when he didn't even realize he was doing it. Just the sound of his laughter was enough. "And just so you know... you have my blessing. Marry my sibling." Dick leans forward and lays the box just in front of the camera. "And have the life you deserve."

The laptop lid slams shut and Jason is out the door before he can stop himself.

***

"So do you believe me-"

The two of you are standing on the rooftop under the Vicki Vale billboard when Jason throws the Red hood helmet to the side and fixes your eyes head-on. There is not a drop of hesitation or fear but acceptance. And that look on someone who has suffered as much as Jason Todd has is probably the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

He is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"You kept the ring." You pull the promise ring from underneath your armor on the silver chain you'd gotten years beforehand. It kept it safe. Kept him safe, before you were the only one of the Bats who knew he was alive. "You kept the ring knowing you wanted to ask me something if you ever saw me again. I'm gonna ask you now."

Your whole world slows down as he sets himself on one knee and asks with all the confidence of a man finally allowing himself to accept love and be loved for the rest of his life.

Will you marry me?

Never forget what they took from us

holy shit i'll never get sick of this art style, his fingers remind me of the other mothers needle hand though lol

toss him back in the lazarus pit he’s not done cooking he looks like a cop

okay so i'm really glad you're postponing the event bc you should prioritise yourself first ! but the fluff/smut category had me thinking (plus the dance scene you showed me with jason) the first time the boys (dick/jason) say i love you to the reader?

this request is important to me FOR A FEW REASONS. i think it’s an extremely huge step for either of them to say those three words, so this really gives me butterflies.

fandom dc / masterlist coming soon / @dollsdc-library

featuring dick grayson x vigilante!reader ; jason todd x Wayne!reader

rating none of my work is meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog.

content warning there’s some mild violence, but other than that, it’s all fluff.

word count n.a / headcanons & concepts

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.

bird brains writing event !!

Dick has loved you for years, and you knew it.

he showed it in the way he looked at you, as if the sun rose and set in your eyes. to him, it did.

you felt it in his kiss, or the genteel way he clasped his hands over yours. the faint skip of his heartbeat when you laid your head on his chest.

you heard it in the softness of his baritone when he called for you, as if the mere collection of letters must be strung together with silk.

you knew he wanted to, but he couldn’t say it.

and that was okay.

because you already knew he did.

every time you visited Wayne Manor, it was difficult to get you alone.

Bruce wanted to talk business.

Tim and Jason wanted the chance to spar with you, regardless of the fact that you typically took them both on at the same time, blindfolded, and win.

Cass would steal you away next, ask for pointers on how to make her suit more efficient.

but the absolute worst was Damian.

the kid that didn’t seem to like anyone had latched himself on to you like a leech, and demanded most of your time.

it hadn’t bothered Dick at first, who was just happy that his family adored his girlfriend as much as he did.

until you didn’t even sleep in bed with him.

he’d shuffled out, clad in sweats with tawny tendrils in a messy heap, and squinted when he saw Jason and Tim sprawled on dualing arm chairs, both buried deep in their screens.

“Anyone want to tell me where my girlfriend is?” he asks, looking them over.

“We tried to get her to crash in here with us,” Tim replied with a shrug.

“Yeah, but the kid threw a fit about wanting her to hang out until he fell asleep.” Jason finished, without even so much as looking up from his phone.

of course he did.

Dick was shaking his head as he crept down the hall to Damian’s room.

Damian had never demanded a babysitter; he’d never even wanted one until Dick introduced you to the house, and now he acted like he couldn’t do anything without you there to hold his hand. it was kind of adorable.

as soon as he slipped inside, he saw you curled up on the massive bed, Damian clinging to you like a koala bear. you were sleeping soundly, but Damian squinted with one eye open.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Kiddo.” Dick croons as he drifts closer, “but, I’m gonna have to steal my girlfriend back.”

Damian pouted. he pouted. since when did Damian Wayne pout instead of scowl? “We’re sleeping.” he countered, closing his eyes as if to ignore his eldest, adoptive sibling. “Come back later.”

“How about I just sleep in here, too?” Dick suggested after a moment of considering just prying the brat off of you and carrying you back to his room. it wouldn’t be fair, but neither would sleeping alone.

Damian was quiet. ignoring him.

“Come on, D.” Dick whispered, “Plenty of room. I can just squeeze in right here.” he pats the massive empty space on your other side.

Damian opened his eyes, but he didn’t say no. so, Dick took that as approval, and slid comfortably on to the mattress. he nuzzles close, wrapping his arm around your midriff, he attempts to pull you closer to him, and inadvertently drags a clinging Damian along with you, who glares up at him.

Dick rests his chin in the crook of your neck, whispering down at the kid, “Relax. Go back to sleep, already.”

it takes a while, but eventually, Damian drifts off again. leaving Dick the only one awake.

he plants a soft, butterfly kiss on your shoulder, smiling to himself at the scene. it felt like looking into the future, or, at least, what he wanted as his future.

“I wonder if our little brats will be so needy,” he thought aloud. it was strange— he’d never thought about a family beyond his siblings, or Bruce, but in this moment with you, he could see it. he wanted it. he wanted to marry you, he wanted to give you little babies that had his eyes and your nose. “Who am I kidding? Of course they will be. They’ll love you. Everyone always loves you.” he pauses, nuzzling against your ear and closes his eyes. “I love you.”

Jason “Perfect Timing” Todd told you he loved you for the first time on a rooftop overlooking the city at twenty three past two in the morning. which sounds romantic in theory.

in practice, however? not so much.

it had been seven vs two; five of those had been beefy thugs twice your size in stature, with biceps bigger than your head, but of course, you’d leapt at the opportunity to bring them down. after all, how did the saying go?

the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

Jason kept stealing glances at you when he parried, ready to break and run to your side if you were to find yourself overwhelmed. but every time, without fail, you were putting another one in the dust, until there were a ring of writhing bodies at your feet; and you were the visage of a warrior goddess in his eyes— sent down from the heavens to kick ass.

he stared, maybe a fraction of a second too long, and his gut met his opponent’s fist. he grunted, stumbled back against the ledge. the faint click of a pistol being torn from a sheath at the thug’s hip rang out. your attention was drawn to the sound, and something inside you snapped.

Jason had a plan of escape, but he hadn’t had the time to act upon it, because the heel of your boot cut through the air between him and the enemy, cracking against his wrist bone. he cries out, firearm flying free from his grip, and he reaches for the broken bone with his other hand, cradling it.

Jason caught the gun by the handle, and smirked behind his mask, before flipping it over, gripping it by the handle.

new plan.

the thug was caught in a whirlwind of your fists and feet, but even with one hand now out of commission, he was holding his own— countering every move. Jason could tell it was getting to you by the way your jaw tightened, and your form became sloppy.

you were frustrated, borderline erratically throwing your limbs at him in hopes of getting through.

he calls your name.

the sound of the syllables on his tongue is enough to center you. you knew what he wanted to say. “Slow down. Focus.” and you do.

kicking your leg up, you hook your knee around the back of your opponent’s neck, forcing him to double over, incapacitated for only a moment or two. but it’s enough.

you look to Jason, whose gloved hand is extended, the other brandishing the gun backwards.

with a vixen’s simper, you reach for him, but instead of taking his hand, you snatch the gun from it. if he wanted the final blow to be his, he had another thing coming.

Jason had scoffed behind his mask, before staring in awe as you hike yourself up on to the man’s shoulders, bringing the butt of the gun against the back of his head.

your knees dig into his shoulder blades as he falls face first against the concrete with a grunt, and you exhale.

but Jason was still staring, and those four words left his lips, muffled behind the Red Hood, before he even realized he’d said them.

“Christ, I love you.”

“What did you just say?” you asked, wide eyed, scrambling to your feet. you were huffing from exertion, and your muscles ached, but all of your focus had zeroed in on him. you couldn’t believe your own ears.

“What? Nothing.”

raising your brows, you advance towards him, now excited. “No, no, no! What did you say, huh? What was that?!” both hands flee to grab at his mask. “What did you say??”

“Knock it off!” but he was laughing, trying to shake his head, leaning back against the ledge to stay out of your reach. he couldn’t, because you’d already wrenched it from his head, cradling it against your midsection like a football.

“Give it.”

“Not until you tell me what you said!” you exclaim, trying to escape to the other side of the roof, but he’s sprinting after you, howling with laughter.

you traipse over unconscious criminals, before you squeal with delight when his powerful arms snake around your waist and pull you back to him.

your back collides with his solid chest, and you hunch forward, hugging the mask tighter. “Tell me!”

“All right!” he exclaims, one hand reaching to cradle your cheek, and turn your face towards him. his chin is hovering just over your shoulder, and his cheeks are reddened, even in the silvery moonlight, but he doesn’t hesitate to pour his gaze into yours when you crane your neck. “Look at me, ya pain in the ass.”

your noses brush against one another, his lips hovering inches from yours; your smile has faded slightly, your breath quivering against his mouth.

“I said I love you.”

your heart felt like it was about to leap from your chest into your throat, and suddenly, words escape you. you can tell he’s waiting on you to say something, but you can’t. you only stare, amazed.

one, dark brow arches. “Come back to earth.” he mutters, playful. “And say something, you’re makin’ me kinda nervous here.”

“Do you mean it?” you ask, abruptly. you’re still gazing at his features, but your stare is analytical, as if trying to pick apart each muscle movement and decide if he were lying or not.

Jason tilts his head to the side, his teal gems falling to your lips. you have the sudden urge to bite down on the lower to keep it from quivering. he notices, and smiles wider.

“Why don’t ya kiss me and find out?”