plot! after a flustered dick grayson spends the day distracted on patrol, he meets you on the streets as robin and tries to romance you behind his confident hero persona. when he gently leans in for a kiss, you politely reject robin, confessing that your heart belongs to a shy, awkward boy from school who blushes easily and laughs too loud
⋆˚꩜ series masterlist
All day your words looped in his head in the worst, best way possible. He was kind. He made me feel safe. He was cute. Dick sat through classes pretending to take notes while internally combusting because you hadn’t known it was him. That was the part that wouldn’t leave him alone. You liked Robin, you liked the version of him that didn’t trip over words, that didn’t blush so hard his ears turned red, that didn’t forget how to breathe when you stood too close. You liked the confident one, the capable one, the hero, and that did something dangerous to his heart.
Because what if… what if you could like him too? Not just Dick who laughed too loud and rambled and got shy, but him, all of him. You had seen Robin without knowing it was Dick, you had judged him without bias and you liked what you saw. That realization sat warm and terrifying in his chest the entire afternoon. By the time patrol came, he was distracted enough that Bruce noticed.
“Focus” Batman said sharply as they moved across the rooftops. Dick snapped back into place immediately, flipping cleanly onto the next ledge, but his mind kept drifting back to your smile when you talked about Robin. Cute dimples. He nearly missed a grapple line because of that. Bruce’s eyes narrowed beneath the cowl. “Something you’d like to share?” “Nope” Robin chirped too quickly, landing in a crouch. Bruce grunted in that way that meant I know you’re lying but I’ll allow it for now.
They split at the next intersection, Batman heading toward a warehouse lead, Robin instructed to circle the Narrows perimeter and report back. Dick swung between buildings, wind rushing past his ears, cape snapping behind him, and he let himself breathe. Up here, masked, moving, he didn’t feel awkward, he felt sharp, certain, sure of where his hands would land and how far he could jump. Robin wasn’t unsure, robin didn’t stutter, robin didn’t second-guess whether a girl could ever see him that way, and maybe that was why you liked him.
He landed lightly on a fire escape and scanned the street below out of habit, and then froze, because there you were again. Same street as last night, walking alone, hugging your jacket closer against the wind. His heart kicked into overdrive, but this time it wasn’t panic, it was something steadier, something almost hopeful.
He dropped down into the alley ahead of you and stepped out into the lamplight just as you approached, boots quiet on the pavement. You startled slightly but relaxed the second you recognized the red and green. “Oh,” you breathed, and there it was again, that soft smile. “Hi.” God. That smile. Even through the mask, he felt it like sunlight. He straightened a little, confidence settling over him like a second cape. “Evening,” he said smoothly, pitching his voice into that slightly deeper, playful tone he used as Robin. “You’re making this a habit” You laughed softly. “I could say the same to you.” He stepped closer, not too close, just enough that he could see the way your hair caught the light. “What can I say? Gotham’s full of coincidences.” You shook your head, amused. “Are you patrolling or following me?” He placed a hand over his chest dramatically. “I would never. I’m wounded.” You smiled wider at that and there it was, that ease. You weren't nervous around him, you looked at Robin like you trusted him, like you liked him. He cleared his throat gently. “Heading home again?” You nodded. “Yeah. I promise I’m not trying to create extra work for you.” “It’s not extra work,” he replied quickly, softer now. “It’s… important.”
You studied him for a moment, and something in your gaze felt deeper tonight. Curious. Warm. “You’re very dedicated” you said. “Someone has to be,” he answered lightly, then added before he could stop himself, “Especially when it comes to people who deserve it.” You blinked at that, cheeks pinking slightly.
The wind shifted between you, and without thinking, he reached out, not grabbing, not bold, just offering his hand the way he might help someone over a ledge. “May I?” he asked gently. You hesitated only a second before placing your hand in his. Your fingers were warm despite the cold, the contact shot up his arm like lightning, but Robin didn’t flinch, robin held steady. He adjusted his grip slightly, not possessive, just protective, and started walking beside you. This time your hands didn’t almost brush, they were connected and you didn’t pull away.
“You don’t have to do this every time” you said softly. “I know.” He glanced sideways at you. “I want to.” Your thumb shifted slightly against his glove, barely a movement, but enough that he felt it everywhere. “You’re very kind” you murmured. He smiled under the mask. “I’ve been told.” You laughed quietly. “You have?” “Yeah,” he said, thinking of her words from earlier. “Recently.”
You looked up at him again, studying his face. And he wondered, just for a second, if you saw it, if you recognized something familiar in the curve of his smile beneath the domino mask. But you didn’t say anything. Instead you asked, “Do you ever get tired?” He considered that honestly. “Sometimes.” “Why keep doing it?” He looked ahead at the dark stretch of street, then back at you. “Because when I walk someone home and they feel safe… it makes it worth it.” Your expression softened so much it nearly undid him. “That’s exactly what you did last night.” His heart pounded. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” You squeezed his hand gently. Not tight, just enough. “Thank you.” And Robin, confident, capable, brave Robin, felt his chest swell with something brighter than any spotlight Haley’s Circus had ever pointed at him. Because you liked him, you liked him without knowing, you liked the parts he was afraid weren’t enough. And standing there in the Gotham night, hand in yours, mask hiding the blush creeping across his cheeks, Dick Grayson allowed himself, for the first time, to believe that maybe you could like all of him, not just the hero, not just the boy, but both. And this time, when he looked at you, he didn’t feel like he was pretending.
Robin kept stealing glances at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice. You were smiling at something he’d just said, some light joke about almost tripping over a gargoyle earlier, and he felt that dangerous warmth spreading through his chest again. He slowed slightly as you reached a quieter stretch of sidewalk, the city noise dull and distant. He turned toward you, still holding your hand, and for once the confidence the mask gave him didn’t feel like pretending, it felt like courage, and not the kind used in fights, the other kind, the kind Bruce never taught him how to handle.
You noticed the shift immediately. “What?” you asked softly, head tilting just a little.
He swallowed. His heart was beating so loudly he was convinced you could hear it. “Can I ask you something?” His voice had lost some of its playful edge. It was quieter now. Real.
“Of course.”
He hesitated, not because he didn’t want to, but because he wanted to do it right. He didn’t want to scare you, didn’t want to assume. He stepped half a pace closer, still leaving space for you to pull away if you wanted. His free hand lifted slowly, carefully, giving you every opportunity to stop him. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from you face, feather-light, asking permission in the gentlest way he knew how.
Her breath caught slightly, not in fear, but in surprise.
“I…” He faltered for just a fraction of a second, then found his footing again. “I’ve really liked walking you home.”
You smiled softly. “I’ve liked it too.”
Encouraged, he let his thumb trace gently over your knuckles through the glove. “And I was just wondering if maybe… I could—”
He leaned in slowly. Respectfully. Not rushing, not claiming, just offering.
And you understood.
Your free hand came up between you, resting lightly against his chest, not pushing hard, just stopping him with the gentlest pressure. Your expression wasn’t upset, it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was soft. Apologetic.
“Oh,” you breathed quietly. “Robin…”
He froze instantly, pulled back half an inch, searching your face through the mask.
“I’m sorry,” you said, voice warm and sincere. “You’re… really wonderful. Truly. And you’ve been so kind to me.”
His stomach dropped, but he forced himself to stay still. To listen.
“But,” you continued gently, “I… I like someone.”
The words hit him like stepping off a roof without a grapple.
He tried to keep his tone light. “Oh.”
“It’s just…” You looked down at your hands, still connected, and then back up at him. “He’s a friend from school.”
His heart stuttered.
You kept talking, unaware you were unraveling him and stitching him back together at the same time. “He’s not… flashy. Or mysterious. He’s not a hero like you.” You smiled faintly. “He’s kind of awkward sometimes.”
Robin’s breath caught.
“He laughs too loud at dumb jokes,” you went on, your voice soft and fond. “And he blushes really easily. And he pretends he’s confident but he’s actually really shy.”
His pulse roared in his ears.
“He’s thoughtful,” you added. “And he cares so much about people. Even when he doesn’t say it out loud.”
Dick felt something fragile bloom in his chest.
“And I think…” You hesitated, almost embarrassed now. “I think he doesn’t realize how wonderful he is.”
Robin couldn’t breathe.
You let out a small, nervous laugh. “He’s probably still too shy to tell me anything. But I don’t mind waiting.”
Waiting.
“For him?” Robin managed, voice quieter now.
You nodded. “Yeah.” Your thumb brushed lightly against the back of his glove in an absent, apologetic gesture. “I want to wait for him.”
The streetlight hummed faintly overhead. Gotham carried on around them. But inside Robin’s chest, everything had gone very still.
You were describing him.
Every word.
The awkward laugh. The blushing. The pretending. The caring too much.
You were refusing Robin, the cool hero, the confident vigilante, the boy you said was cute, because you liked… Dick.
Because you wanted him.
He swallowed hard, fighting the stupid grin threatening to break across his face.
You mistook his silence for disappointment and squeezed his hand gently. “I’m really sorry,” you said again. “You deserve someone amazing.”
He found his voice, softer now. Less performative. “He sounds… lucky.”
Your cheeks warmed. “I don’t know about that.”
Robin tilted his head slightly. “He is,” he insisted quietly. “If someone like you is willing to wait for him.”
You looked at him with that same gentle sweetness you always did. “You’re going to make someone very happy too,” you told him.
Oh, he thought, I already am.
He stepped back properly this time, giving you space, letting your hands slip apart slowly. He didn’t let it feel rejected. He let it feel… understood.
“I hope he doesn’t keep you waiting too long” Robin said lightly, though his heart felt like it might burst out of his ribs.
You smiled softly. “Me too.”
And then you did something that nearly undid him again, you reached up and squeezed his arm affectionately. “Thank you for being honest.”
He almost laughed at that.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Honest.”
You resumed walking, but the air between you had shifted, not awkward, not tense. Just clearer. Softer.
Robin felt lighter than he had in weeks.
You had chosen him.
Not the mask.
Not the symbol.
Not the cool, confident version.
The awkward boy who blushed and laughed too loud and didn’t know how to make the first move.
And for the first time in his life, Dick Grayson didn’t feel like he had to compete with Robin.
And as you walked under the quiet Gotham sky, Robin smiled behind the mask, not because he’d been refused.
SO: Did you finish any of that stuff you said you wanted to get done this week? That project for work? Reorganizing the turtle tank? That Dean Winchester fic you've been talking about writing for 2 months?
Me: No, no... and no. But I wrote an 1800 word Jason Todd one-shot in 2 hrs last night.
SO: Ok... what about that Tracker x Hawaii 5-0 crossover?
Me: I started working on that one, but I only got like half a scene done before I got distracted with the Red Hood thing...
SO: So it's Friday and nothing on your to-do list for the week got done? That tracks.
Why do so many people think Jason Todd is Red X II? (Teen Titans, 2003)
I know this has probably been mentioned on the internet a million times but I recently watched the series and I just have to say that I don't understand how this theory seemingly became so widely accepted as "Canon" when it doesn't make sense like at all.
Quick note: I'm not saying people can't like the theory, not at all. Also I know the TV show's area in the general mainstream canon is already hazy as is. I'm just yapping because I don't have anyone to talk about this with.
General sequence of events relating to Dick and Jason as 'Robin':
Dick Grayson becomes 'Robin' around 9-12 after his parents die and he's adopted/taken by Bruce.
He serves as Bruce's sidekick in Gotham until about 15-16 when he leaves and creates his own team.
Dick abandons the 'Robin' Moniker at 18-19 to become 'Nightwing'. He was 'Robin' for 6-10 years
Around the same time Dick becomes 'Nightwing' Jason is adopted/taken in by Bruce, becoming the second 'Robin' around 12-13
Jason stays 'Robin' until his death at 14-15, having been 'Robin' for only 1-3 years. He was dead for 6 months and then stayed with the League of Assassins for 3.5-6.5 years
Around 19-21 Jason returns to Gotham as 'Red Hood'.
Given that in the show the main Teen Titans team seem already well established in their identity as the Teen Titans but Dick is still using the name 'Robin', I'd say Dick is likely 17-18. If the show is following the general sequence of events above Jason likely hasn't even met Bruce yet, let alone been given any of the training needed to do any of the stuff Red X II does. Not to mention Red X II is seemingly built exactly like Dick or at least close enough to be mistaken for him which is a problem for the theory since generally Jason is six years younger than Dick.
The theory just doesn't make sense when looking at any of characters general lives at the time. No version of the events make it possible for Jason to be Red X II. The only three things they have in common is their direct tie to Dick, a red and black color palette(which Jason would only get years later), and the word red in their monikers.
This was longer than I intended but if you read all this, thank you!
omg this is too funny cause I was literally just thinking about this the other day!
So as a 12 yr old kid, I hadn't read any of the canon yet, so I thought Dick's older brother from the movie Batman Forever had somehow survived and he was Red X (not really relevant but just a fun theory that kid me had)
There was an interview where one of the writers (maybe Marv or David, not sure) said they knew who Red X was and they had even written it down. But did they write it in their own notes or on screen?
(Sidenote: the long lost brother picture is Scott Menville, the voice actor for both Robin and Red X in the series)
'X' aired in September 2004 so it's possible that the animated series writers were cooking up a story about a version of Jason from another Earth with an accelerated timeline to explain the sudden age gap, not knowing the comic writers were about to release a Red Hood story (Dec 2004) that would be revealed as Jason (March 2005)
My Headcanon: On Earth #whatever, Jason didnt die in Ethiopia but stopped working with Batman and became a self-absorbed thief then somehow got sent to Earth 0, and not wanting to go to Gotham and risk running into a younger version of himself, went to Jump City to screw with Dick.
I guess having Red X be a version of Jason just makes more sense to me than him being another version of Dick because I just can't see any version of Dick that trained with Batman going on to become a thief.
Trying to define which Earth Red X could be from led me down a rabbit hole that ended with me making an excel sheet (cuz I'm a total nerd) of all 52 Earths and the status of both Jason and Dick on each of them...
Jason Todd had been in love exactly once in his life, and it was the worst possible situation imaginable.
Not because you were evil. Not because you were dangerous. Not even because you were a criminal—though you were, technically.
No, the problem was much simpler and infinitely more complicated:
You were Selina Kyle's daughter.
And Selina Kyle absolutely, categorically hated his guts.
Three Months Ago: The First Meeting
Jason had been tracking a weapons shipment through Gotham's East End when he'd quite literally run into you on a rooftop.
"Shit—sorry!" You'd stumbled backward, nearly dropping the very expensive-looking necklace you were holding.
"Watch where you're—" Jason stopped, taking in the sight. Black suit, sleek and practical. Goggles pushed up on your head. A grappling hook at your belt that looked suspiciously high-tech.
A thief. Great.
"Are you going to arrest me, or can I go?" you asked, already backing toward the edge.
"Depends. That stolen?"
"Define stolen."
"Did you pay for it?"
"Did the previous owner deserve to keep it?"
Jason found himself almost smiling. "That's not how property law works."
"Property law is a social construct designed to protect the wealthy." You were at the ledge now. "And this particular wealthy person funds illegal dog fighting rings, so I'd say he deserves to lose a necklace."
"Dog fighting?"
"Very illegal, very cruel dog fighting." You pocketed the necklace. "I'm donating the proceeds to animal shelters. You're welcome to stop me, but then you'd be siding with animal abusers."
"That's manipulative."
"That's effective." You grinned. "Nice meeting you, Red Hood. Try not to shoot anyone on your way home."
Then you'd backflipped off the building, and Jason had watched you disappear into the night like smoke.
He'd gone home and tried very hard not to think about you.
He'd failed spectacularly.
Two Months Ago: The Second Meeting
"We need to stop meeting like this," Jason said, finding you on yet another rooftop, this time outside a gallery.
"Then stop patrolling my neighborhood," you replied, not looking up from the window you were carefully opening.
"This is everyone's neighborhood."
"The East End has been my mother's territory for twenty years. I'm just following tradition."
"Your mother?"
You finally looked at him, and even in the dim light, he could see your smile. "You really don't know?"
"Should I?"
"Probably not. It's better for both of us if you don't." You slipped through the window. "Feel free to stop me anytime, Hood."
Jason knew he should stop you. Should call it in. Should do literally anything other than watch you work with professional admiration.
But you moved like water, efficient and graceful, and you very deliberately only took from one specific display—a collection that, when Jason looked it up later, belonged to a known mob financier.
You emerged ten minutes later with a small painting.
"Monet," you said, showing it to him. "Stolen from a Jewish family in 1943. This asshole's grandfather bought it from the Nazis. I'm returning it to the family's descendants."
"You're an art thief with a conscience?"
"I'm a lot of things." You carefully packed the painting. "But mostly, I'm someone who thinks stolen things should go back to their rightful owners."
"Even though you're stealing it?"
"I'm correcting a historical injustice. Completely different."
"That's still theft."
"Then arrest me." You stepped closer, and Jason's breath caught. "Or let me go, and I'll tell you where the dog fighting ring is operating."
"That's bribery."
"That's cooperation." You pulled out a piece of paper, handed it to him. "Your choice, Hood."
Jason looked at the address. Then at you.
"You're trouble," he said.
"I'm efficient." You headed for the edge. "Same time next week?"
"I'm not making this a regular thing!"
"Sure you're not!" You were already gone.
Jason went to the dog fighting ring. Shut it down. Arrested everyone involved.
And absolutely did not spend the next week looking forward to running into you again.
One Month Ago: The Reveal
"Okay, we need to talk about this," Jason said when he found you outside a museum.
"About what?"
"About the fact that we keep running into each other. About the fact that I keep letting you go. About—" He gestured vaguely. "This."
You tilted your head. "You want to talk about feelings, Hood?"
"I want to understand what's happening here."
"What's happening is you're attracted to me, I'm attracted to you, and we're both pretending we're not because it's complicated."
Jason's brain short-circuited. "You're—what?"
"Attracted to you. Have been since the first night." You sat on the ledge. "You're smart, you're capable, you have a moral code even if it's unconventional. Plus, you know, the whole dangerous vigilante thing is objectively attractive."
"I—you—we can't—"
"Why not?"
"Because you're a thief!"
"And you're a crime lord. We're both criminals, Hood. I just have better PR."
"That's not—I'm trying to help people!"
"So am I. I steal from people who deserve it and give to people who need it. We're not that different."
Jason sat next to you because his legs felt unsteady. "This is insane."
"Most good things are." You pulled off your goggles, and Jason saw your face clearly for the first time. You were beautiful. Of course you were. "I'm going to tell you something, and you're probably going to run away."
"Try me."
"My mother is Selina Kyle."
Jason's stomach dropped. "Catwoman."
"Yep." You were watching him carefully. "And before you ask—yes, she knows about you. Yes, she has opinions. Yes, those opinions are mostly negative."
"She hates me."
"She hates that you're not Bruce. She hates that you kill people. She hates that you represent everything Bruce tried to move past." You shrugged. "But she doesn't know about us. About this. Whatever this is."
"There is no 'us.'"
"Isn't there?" You looked at him directly. "You've let me go six times, Hood. You've taken my information, used it to help people, and never once actually tried to stop me. That's not nothing."
"I should stop you."
"But you won't." You stood up. "Because you know I'm right. Because you know the people I steal from deserve it. Because—" You stepped closer. "Because you like me."
"I don't even know your name."
You smiled, pulling off your mask completely, and whispered your name.
"Jason," he said before he could stop himself. "Jason Todd."
"I know. I've known since the second time we met. You're not as subtle as you think."
"Apparently not."
You were close now, close enough that Jason could see the flecks of color in your eyes, the small scar on your cheekbone.
"So what now?" you asked.
"Now I—" Jason didn't finish the sentence because you kissed him.
He kissed you back, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer. You tasted like mint and danger, and Jason thought distantly that this was the worst decision he'd ever made.
He didn't care.
When you pulled back, you were smiling. "Same time next week?"
"You're going to be the death of me."
"Probably. But what a way to go."
Present Day
"Absolutely not," Selina said when you told her.
"Mom—"
"No. No, no, no. Anyone but him."
"You don't even know him!"
"I know enough. He's violent, he's unstable, he kills people—"
"So do you!"
"That's different!"
"How is it different?"
Selina paced the apartment, tail swishing—wait, no, that was just her coat. Jason had been spending too much time thinking about cat metaphors.
"He's Bruce's biggest failure," Selina said finally. "The Robin who died, who came back wrong. He represents everything painful about that life."
"Or he represents survival. Growth. Someone who made their own choices instead of following Bruce's rules." You crossed your arms. "You of all people should understand that."
"That's not fair."
"It's completely fair. You've spent twenty years doing things your own way, and now you're mad that I'm doing the same."
"I'm not mad that you're independent. I'm mad that you chose him."
"I didn't choose him to spite you. I chose him because he's good and kind and damaged and trying his best." Your voice softened. "Like you. Like me. Like all of us."
Selina stopped pacing, looking at you with an expression that was part frustration, part resignation.
"Does he make you happy?" she asked.
"Yeah. He does."
"Does he treat you well?"
"Better than I probably deserve."
"And if I say no? If I forbid it?"
"Then I'd ignore you and date him anyway, but I'd prefer to do it with your blessing."
Selina sighed, the fight going out of her. "You're just like me. Stubborn. Impossible."
"I learned from the best."
"Flattery won't work."
"Worth a shot."
Selina walked to the window, looking out at Gotham's skyline. "Bring him to dinner."
"What?"
"If you're serious about this, bring him to dinner. Let me meet him properly. Not as Red Hood—as Jason."
"You want to have dinner with Jason Todd?"
"I want to make sure my daughter isn't dating a complete disaster." Selina looked back at you. "And if he can't handle one meal with me, he doesn't deserve you."
"This is a bad idea," Jason said for the fifteenth time.
"It's going to be fine," you said, fixing his collar.
"Your mother hates me."
"She's willing to have dinner with you. That's progress."
"That's her planning my murder."
"She's not going to murder you."
"She's Catwoman. Murder is definitely on the table."
You kissed him, and some of his panic subsided. "Just be yourself. Be honest. She appreciates honesty."
"What if being myself isn't enough?"
"Then she'll get over it, because I'm not giving you up." You took his hand. "Come on. We're going to be late."
Selina's apartment was in the nice part of Gotham—the part that had actual security and didn't smell like garbage. Jason had been here exactly once, during a team-up that had ended with Selina threatening to claw his eyes out if he ever worked with Bruce again.
This was going well already.
Selina opened the door, looked Jason up and down, and said: "You're early."
"You said seven."
"I said seven-thirty."
"You definitely said seven—"
"Mom, you said seven," you interrupted. "Stop trying to throw him off."
Selina smiled, but it wasn't reassuring. "Come in. Try not to break anything."
The apartment was exactly what Jason expected—expensive, tasteful, with several items that were definitely stolen. There were photos on the walls: you as a child, Selina in her Catwoman suit, even one of Selina and Bruce that made Jason's stomach twist.
"Drink?" Selina offered.
"Sure. Whatever you're having."
"I'm having wine. You're having water because you're still on my bad list."
"Mom!"
"What? I'm being honest. He appreciates honesty." Selina poured three glasses of wine anyway. "Sit. Let's talk."
Dinner was awkward.
Selina asked pointed questions. Jason answered honestly, even when the truth made him look bad. You mediated, trying to keep the conversation from derailing into an argument.
"So," Selina said, cutting into her chicken. "You kill people."
"Mom!"
"It's fine," Jason said. "Yes. I kill people. Bad people. People who hurt kids, who traffic humans, who make Gotham worse. I know it's not what Bruce would do, but I'm not Bruce."
"Clearly." Selina sipped her wine. "And you think that makes you better than him?"
"No. Just different. I work in the gray areas Bruce won't touch."
"The gray areas."
"Crime Alley is safer because of what I do. The people there trust Red Hood more than they trust Batman. That counts for something."
Selina studied him. "You really believe that."
"I know that. I live there. I see the difference."
"And what about my daughter? Where does she fit into your violent crusade?"
"Mom, that's not fair—"
"She fits exactly where she wants to fit," Jason said firmly. "I'm not dragging her into anything. She makes her own choices. Always has."
"And if I told you to stay away from her?"
"I'd be heartbroken. But I'd respect her decision, whatever it was."
You reached under the table, squeezing his hand.
Selina set down her fork. "You're not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"Someone more like Bruce. Rigid. Self-righteous. Convinced he's always right."
"I know I'm not always right. I just do the best I can with what I have."
"That's surprisingly mature."
"I've died and come back. Really puts things in perspective."
Selina almost smiled. "I suppose it would."
The rest of dinner was easier. Selina asked about his work in Crime Alley, his relationship with the other Bats, his plans for the future. Jason answered honestly, not trying to impress her, just being himself.
By dessert, Selina was actually laughing at one of his stories.
"You threw a grenade at Dick?" she asked.
"It was a smoke grenade! And he deserved it!"
"He definitely deserved it," you agreed.
"The Bats are all insane," Selina said, shaking her head. "Every single one of you."
"You're dating one," Jason pointed out.
"Casually. Very casually. We're not discussing Bruce."
"Fair enough."
After dinner, while you were in the kitchen getting more wine, Selina cornered Jason in the living room.
"I'm going to be honest with you," she said quietly.
"Okay."
"I don't like that you kill people. I don't like that you're violent. I don't like that you represent everything Bruce tried to move past after you died."
"I know."
"But." Selina's expression softened. "You make my daughter happy. You treat her well. You respect her independence. And you showed up tonight knowing I might hate you, because it mattered to her."
"It did matter. She matters."
"Then we understand each other." Selina extended her hand. "Hurt her, and I'll make your second death look pleasant by comparison."
"Understood." Jason shook her hand.
"Good." Selina smiled, and this time it was genuine. "Welcome to the family, Jason Todd. Try not to make me regret this."
Three Months Later
"I still can't believe my mom likes you," you said, curled up on Jason's couch.
"I think 'likes' is a strong word. 'Tolerates' is more accurate."
"She invited you to her birthday dinner. That's practically a declaration of love from her."
"Or a setup for an elaborate murder."
"Always so paranoid." You kissed his jaw. "She likes you. She told me."
"Really?"
"Really. She said, and I quote: 'He's not completely terrible. I suppose you could do worse.'"
"High praise from Catwoman."
"The highest." You settled against his chest. "Bruce is going to lose his mind when he finds out."
"Bruce already knows."
"What?"
"He cornered me last week. Did the whole 'what are your intentions with Selina's daughter' speech. It was terrifying."
"What did you say?"
"That I love you and I'm not giving you up, even if he disapproves."
You pulled back to look at him. "You love me?"
Jason's eyes widened. "I—shit—I didn't mean to say it like that. I had a whole plan, was going to take you somewhere nice, maybe not blurt it out while talking about Bruce—"
You kissed him, cutting off his rambling. "I love you too, you idiot."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." You smiled. "Even though you're a disaster who somehow got my mother's approval through sheer stubbornness."
"I prefer to think of it as charm."
"You have many qualities, Jason Todd. Charm is not one of them."
"You love me anyway."
"I do." You kissed him again. "My mom's going to be insufferable about this. She's going to take credit for bringing us together."
"How does she figure that?"
"She'll say her excellent parenting created someone capable of seeing your potential."
"That's a reach."
"That's my mother." You settled back against him. "But she's right about one thing."
"What's that?"
"You are worth the trouble."
Jason held you closer, thinking about the impossible path that had led here. A chance meeting on a rooftop. A thief with a conscience. A dinner that should have been a disaster.
And somehow, impossibly, it had worked.
"Hey," he said.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For giving me a chance. For standing up to your mom. For loving me even though I'm a mess."
"You're my mess." You looked up at him. "Besides, I'm a thief who's dating a crime lord. We're both disasters. We might as well be disasters together."
"Poetic."
"I have my moments."
Jason kissed the top of your head, and thought that maybe—just maybe—he'd finally found something worth more than revenge or redemption or any of the things he'd been chasing since he came back.
He'd found home.
In the arms of a thief.
Who just happened to be the daughter of one of Gotham's most notorious cat burglars.
His life was weird.
But it was his.
And he wouldn't change a thing.
Selina and Jason developed a grudging respect that eventually turned into actual friendship.
They bonded over their shared frustration with Bruce's emotional constipation.
You and Jason moved in together, to an apartment in Crime Alley that Selina personally secured.
Bruce was weird about it for six months before finally accepting that Jason was happy.
Dick thought the whole thing was hilarious and made you both a "Welcome to the Disaster Family" card.
Tim created a betting pool about how long before Jason proposed.
Damian declared you "acceptable" which was basically a declaration of love from him.
And sometimes, on quiet nights, you and Jason would sit on the roof of your building, and you'd steal small things from his pockets just to see if he'd notice.
He always noticed.
But he never stopped you.
Because some things were worth stealing.
And some people were worth keeping.
Even if they were complicated.
Even if they were disasters.
Even if their mother-in-law was Catwoman and regularly threatened to claw your eyes out at family dinners.
I will say, Dick’s relentless reminders to everyone — especially Kory’s father — of how much Kory suffered is top tier.
He cannot allow Kory’s trauma to be minimized or forgotten, when it so often is. Her compassion, kindness, and optimism do not negate that she was a victim of slavery and experimentation. Yet, so many characters act as such. It’s honestly appalling, considering that half of every issue is complaining. But while most are throwing their hands over their foreheads in woe about something or other in their past, there is no acknowledgement of Kory’s. And specifically in this case, where it should be the most relevant topic in the room, the tragedy of discussion, it is still neglected.
Dick doesn’t let this happen. Dick doesn’t let Kory be pushed around and further allowed to suffer in silence, because she is the type to take on that suffering rather than make it the burden of others. Dick is the first to validate and emphasize the depths of this mistreatment.
It’s also, frankly, very ironic coming from him. He is arguably the one other person so eager to diminish or neglect his own trauma. It might be why he’s so intent on not letting it be forgotten in Kory.
love sam winchester tumblr because there will be a gifset of god's most miserable 6'4 soldier having the worst imaginable time of his life and. the notes will unironically be filled with. #cutiepatootie #prettyprincess #hellobeautiful
yall need to stop talking about the titans tower incident like "big bad jason hurt wittle baby boy timmy" and starting recognising it for what it truly is...
that scene from 21 jump street.
Tim: "YOU PUNCHED ME BECAUSE IM GAY?!"
Jason: "oh come on."
Dick, whispering to Jason: "that's not cool, man."
Damian: "That is really insensitive."
Jason: "I didn't punch him because he's gay. I punched him, and then...he happened to turn out to be gay afterwards."
Tim: "I WAS GAY WHEN YOU PUNCHED ME!"
I saw a debate on Facebook about who the most powerful beings are in Supernatural (but FB isn't worthy of my drabble so posting it here)
I started making my own list based on SPN canon mythology but so much headcanon was needed to fill in the blanks that I basically just ended up writing a sarcastic, Chuck-bashing "timeline of creation" fic. 🤷♀️
There are several root problems to this debate.
The definition of "power" is subjective
There are too many gaps in the canon lore to properly analyze the strengths and weaknesses of each character without making assumptions
The Dabb era seasons (especially s15) completely uprooted previously defined "facts" as Chuck was revealed to be a manipulative liar which caused the boys (and the fandom) to question everything they had previously believed to be true. (Dabb seasons are closer to fanon than canon in my book but that's a rant for another day)
Consequently, there are no right/wrong answers to this debate. Power rankings can be done several ways, most commonly comparing abilities (what can they do) and vulnerabilities (how hard are they to kill). Because I'm Winchester-minded, I focused on the latter.
Analysis is in chronological order of creation (not because age = power but just because that's how my brain works)
In the beginning, it was just Amara & Chuck (light/dark, yin/yang, whatever you want to call them). Chuck wanted to create life but first had to create Death (supposedly because of cosmic balance rules or some shit, but more like he just couldn't handle the competition of another eternally immortal being). He gifted Death with a scythe and a warning that Death could only be killed by his own scythe.
Next, Chuck needed a place for those dead things to go, so he created the Empty (aka God's trash can). The only thing that can kill the Empty is God power. Chuck only allowed this because the Empty couldn't go to earth unless summoned (and it supposed to stay asleep for all eternity anyway).
Due to this restriction, I ranked the Empty as less powerful than Death.
Then Chuck made Leviathans (odd first choice but whatever he's a weirdo). Canonically the only thing we know of that can kill a Leviathan is being eaten by another Leviathan since at this point in the 'timeline of creation' righteous bones, angels, demons, other monsters dont exist yet.
Sidenote: We know that separating the head from the body slows them down (they are literally primordial goo with teeth so why that works idk, chalk it up to Chuck logic I guess) but they never specify if the body will eventually die after being separated from the head for months/years/eons.
Anyway, Chuck got bored of watching Levi's eat each other but didn't want to kill them or send them to sleep in the Empty cause they're the only entertainment he had at that point, so he created Purgatory to lock the Leviathan away from his other creations.
Sidenote: One of the many bumps of s15 is when they introduce the Leviathan Blossom that "grows out of the soil when Leviathan die" which "can take months" (if that was the case, shouldn't there be Levi Blossoms on earth from all the bodies the boys buried in s7? or are we supposed to assume special Pugatory soil + decaying Levi goo = weird ass flower thing?)
At this point it's implied that Chuck created a "petri dish" of other creatures (some of whom were allegedly destroyed by Amara).
Chuck started to realize that creation took a lot of work so his lazy ass decided to make a being that could spawn a multitude of other creatures on her own without his involvement. We'll call these beings Mother. So he picked few universes/galaxies/planets at random and dropped a single Mother on each of them, then kicked back to watch the show. Mother immediately started laying eggs and although the creatures attempted to evolve/adapt to various hostile planetary conditions, most didn't survive.
Onto the biggest dicks in all of creation Angels... there is some debate on who was the "first" (since Amara canonically contradicted the original lore) so here's my headcanon:
God designed Lucifer first but Luci was so beautiful, God feared having to destroy him if this first beta test didnt go well, so he created and activated Michael, the perfect obdient son. After about 5 minutes of Michael's unrelenting devotion, God decided he better add a dash of rebelliousness to Lucifer before activating him (although Chuck does want to be worshipped by lesser beings, his priority is entertainment so he had to spice up Luci to make him a foil character to Michael, plus the whole cosmic balance thing has Chuck making all the major players in pairs to mirror himself & Amara)
Lucifer quickly became God's favorite so Michael immediately started playing the "I'm the oldest" card out of jealousy. Then God made Raphael (another obedient son but slightly less annoyingly devoted) and his corresponding foil, Gabriel (only this time he added a dash of saucy instead of spicy)
Just like he did with the Leviathan, Chuck made it so only an Archangel can kill an Archangel (he was really was obsessed with siblicide from the get-go since he hated his sister)
Aided by his 4 sons, Chuck proceeded to seal Amara away and he gave the lock/key to his fav Luci. Apparently even God level omniscience couldn't foresee Amara's wrath seeping into Lucifer thru the mark. If he knew that was a possibility, he would've given it Mikey or Raph (the least entertaining of the 4)
With Amara out of the picture, Chuck created the Heavenly host (what better way to reward your sons' for a job well done than giving them more little siblings to boss around?)
Sidenote: Angel classes ranked on power level (lowest to highest) since we dont know the chronological order they were created in
◦ Cherub (cupid)
◦ Basic bitches Angels (foot soliders)
◦ Rit Zien (battlefield medic / mercy killer)
◦ Reaper (assigned to ferry souls)
◦ Grigori (first Angels to walk the earth; their mission was to protect humans but they saw humans as weak and started feeding off them; after being cut off from Heaven, they remained on earth and their powers significantly decreased over the centuries)
◦ Scribe (managed the human prophets, only powerful due to his knowledge of some of God's secrets including the inner workings of His creations)
◦ Seraphim (relayed orders to Angels)
◦ Archangel (relayed orders to Seraphim)
▪ Nephilim (more powerful than the Angel that sired it despite being half-human) [position in the power ranking varies based on the class of Angel who sired it]
AND THEN CAME HUMAN. Adam & Eve were placed in a protective-bubble garden and given one rule (cause Chuck loves setting his creations up for failure). Eager to point out the flaws of humanity, Lucifer got Eve to eat the forbidden quince.
God's punishment: kicked them out of the garden to fend for themselves among the creatures that Mother had spawned (only other beings on earth at the time) and banned them from Heaven. But that wasn't enough cause if they went to Purgatory, they'd just get eaten right away (which isn't good TV). So Chuck created Hell where the "bad" humans would suffer for eternity (presumably just bored af cause demons didn't exist yet or maybe it would be a never-ending loop of bad memories/regrets/wrongdoings instead of the highlight reel offered in Heaven, since Chuck is all about equal but opposite).
Assuming Eve told her children about what happened in the garden, watchful Cain clocked Lucifer trying damn his little brother Abel and made a deal with Lucifer to guarantee Abel's soul would go to Heaven. The deal: Cain must kill Abel, and damn himself to an eternity in Luci's servitude. With the blade that killed Abel in hand, Lucifer shared Amara's mark with Cain.
While Cain lived out the rest of his life, Lucifer got ahold of the soul of a young girl (he probably killed the reaper that was supposed to deliver her to Heaven) and twisted and tempted her into the very first demon. Then he did the same to the soul of a man, to complete the pair (like father, like son). We aren't told if Lilith & Alastair were their human names or if Luci dubbed them as such, but we assume these two were the only demons with white eyes. As Luci needed to be top dog over all his pets, all demons can be killed by Archangels.
Since both White Eyed demons were killed by DemonBlood!Sam we don't know for sure if the Colt would have worked but I'm just going to guess it would have since Lilith had Bela steal it from the boys.
Lucifer then picked 4 souls and turned them into the demonic Princes of Hell. Lilith & Alastair watched so they could make demons on their own later on.
On earth, Eve & Adam separated. Alone and close to death, Eve stumbled upon a creature that was able to communicate with her telepathically. Chuck's first Mother and first Woman bonded as they both grieved for the children they had lost over the years. Eve knew she couldn't be reunited with her children in Heaven and feared that her punishment in Hell would be exceptionally egregious due to her banishment from the Garden.
Mother told Eve she could save her from Hell by turning her and claiming her soul for Purgatory. Feeling that her children in Purgatory needed her more than the ones that were thriving on earth, Mother asked that Eve kill her. Eve agreed to the deal.
After she turned, Eve changed her name to Haya, which comes from the Hebrew word for beast. Upon reuniting in Purgatory, Haya told Mother that the name Eve came from the Hebrew word for 'mother of all life' so Mother adopted the moniker 'Eve'
Meanwhile, unable to live with the murder-hungry effects of the mark any longer, Cain killed himself, then awoke as a demon. Lucifer dubbed Cain the first Knight of Hell and told Cain to turn other damned souls into demonic Knights.
Apparently Chuck didnt give a shit about Lucifer creating demons in Hell, but when Cain and the Knights wrecked havoc on earth, Chuck finally had enough of Lucifer's meddling, so he built a cage in Hell and (with Michael's help) locked up Luci.
Demon Hierarchy:
◦ Black Eyed (foot soliders)
◦ Red Eyed (Crossroads demons)
◦ Knights of Hell (Cain's crew)
◦ Princes of Hell (Yellow Eyes)
◦ White Eyed (Lilith & Alastair)
◦ Antichrist (more powerful than the Demon that sired it despite being half-human)
Five things in all of creation The Colt can't kill
(God and Amara predate creation so they dont count)
1. Death
2. Leviathan
3. Eve (Mother)
4. Archangel
5. MOC bearer
Looking at every character individually at the peak of their power, here's the Top 15:
God tier:
1. Jack (after he absorbed both Chuck & Amara's powers)
2. Chuck (after he tricked Amara into letting him absorb her)
3. Amara
First Gen Creation tier:
4. Death
5. Empty
(#6 is in other tier below)
7. Archangel
8. Leviathan
9. Eve (Mother)
Demon tier:
10. MOC bearer
11. Jesse (demon spawn)
12. White Eyes
13. Princes of Hell (Yellow Eyes)
14. Knights of Hell
15. King Crowley
Other:
6. Mutated Angel (when he first took in the monster souls and Leviathan from Purgatory was he able to kill Raphael)
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