writers, instead of asking ai for help, you can always use your childhood trauma and repressed issues to help you with that fic

JVL
KIROKAZE
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Product Placement
🪼
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
almost home
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER
Stranger Things

Andulka
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price
Peter Solarz
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

izzy's playlists!
Not today Justin

JBB: An Artblog!
Jules of Nature
seen from T1

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seen from Netherlands

seen from Malaysia
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@m0k4nl1ly
writers, instead of asking ai for help, you can always use your childhood trauma and repressed issues to help you with that fic
Hold still! Caine is drawing you ❤️
will never found au where mike finally finds him and they lock eyes and mike just says "will" in his will voice with tears in his eyes and he's about to hug him but then will sort of backs away and just makes this pained expression for a few seconds and then clears his throat and turns away and-
"henry, i 𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙙 you, this 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣'𝙩 work."
when it's right person right time but they're both fucking TERRIFIED and it's HORRIFYING
yandere jason todd x reader has me on a chokehold (mind the tags).
like, imagine you grew up in crime alley with him. he’s the person you trust the most in the world, the one person who knows what living in that place, where dead bodies appear in the morning, and lunch came from the trash can, is like. he is the one person who knows how rooted in the fear of adults—big, aggressive, unpredictable— was when you were little and how much it took to break that prejudice down.
when bruce wanted to adopt him, he grabbed you by the arm and declared that you two were a package deal; “it’s both of us or neither”, he said. to think he was willing to resign the opportunity of a lifetime just to stay with you stuck in your memory long after long after you learned to spar each other, how to dress stab wounds and bullet holes and you decided that you wanted every day to be like this: fighting by Jason’s side, together until you were old and wrinkly, living somewhere warm with the people who loved you.
then ethiopia came. and then it went. but it didn’t feel like that at all.
it was as though a part of your heart had been ripped apart from the rest, buried far away from your reach, and everyone told you to just get over it, to suck it up and keep going; it was infuriating as much as it was unbearable.
after jason died, you didn’t leave vigilantism, not outright, but you didn’t have half as much the will to fight. it wasn’t the same without him. the magic that robin exuded, which had once enthused you, was entirely absent without him there.
so, you told bruce that you were dropping out of a mission. just a single one, an easy one he could take over perfectly well on his own. and then, you dropped out of two missions. and then, three. and then, you felt so numb and the world was such a bother that you stopped counting, until you weren't a vigilante anymore.
tim appeared out of the blue. at first, it felt like betrayal. bruce wanted another robin? seriously? it felt like he was saying that jason wasn’t good enough, so someone better had to replace him. also, the kid managed to crack both his and dick's secret identities, so while he kind of had to stay, being a liability and all… did he? his presence was a constant reminder of the fact that jason was gone. how could bruce just move past that? where had all the grief and anger gone?
but as days passed and turned into weeks, you began to interact with tim and discovered that he actually had pretty interesting things to say. he was witty, creative, passionate about investigating, and he never judged you for missing jason like crazy. he didn't want to be him, he just wants to earn his spot in the family. and when you let him in at last, it felt like letting go, like acceptance and grief all wrapped up in one.
years go by and very, very slowly, reality starts to settle back down. there is always a dull ache in your chest that pierces your heart whenever the image of jason's smiling face comes back to your mind's forefront, but it's a happy thing now to remember him, not a reason to fall apart. it's hard, but you're getting to the point of acceptance.
then quietly, almost like he was sneaking around, red hood arrives to your life. you hear that he is wreaking havoc in the streets by killing criminals and messing with crime syndicates. since that is not your department anymore, you leave it all to bruce and tim, who are working hard to take him down. still, you notice that bruce is avoiding you, far more than usual. also, tim is unusually undescriptive about the cases as of late, when he used to share everything with you for insight.
they were fools, thinking they could hide it from you. after all, bruce trained you, too: you know how to be a detective, regardless of how long you've been off work. and so, you find out that your dead best friend and only love is back from the dead.
you don't think twice and put your suit back on the moment that knowledge comes to you. that is your best friend they are trying to catch— it'd only be fair if you were the one to do it. bruce firmly "suggests" that you don't, but you don't listen to him and simply go off on a solo investigation. you pursue the smallest trails and hints of his presence around the city, collected without their help, but some you do steal from bruce and tim. all those clues, which you study obsessively, finally lead you to him: the person you love, the person you've been grieving for years.
on his end, he was hoping you'd never see him again. how would you react if you did? he's sure you wouldn't recognize him, and he'd rather avoid you looking at him like he's someone you don't know, burying himself in his self-imposed duty as opposed to confronting the fact that there is someone out there who misses him.
jason misses you, too; how couldn't he? you're the best person he knows. you always understood him and his anger, and you weren't afraid to tell him when he was being an utter jerk either. your smile was his light at the end of the tunnel during the harsh, cold days of his childhood. you always knew when he was upset and you'd comfort him always, taking his small hands into your smaller ones as your voice soothed his nerves.
it was easier to forget about you if he didn't look for you. still, he did so unconsciously, whenever the bat and the replacement chased after him. he'd wonder if you were alright, if you were even alive. you couldn't have died, too. no way. you couldn't have ended up like him. but he quickly found out that bruce wayne's daughter was alive and well, but that, after his death, the media had stalked her for months.
this is how he found out that you had grieved him intensly. he knew that already, he imagined that you did, after all you two went through, but the pictures of you with hollow eyes, pale skin, and lips that couldn't manage to form into a smile confirmed it.
he wondered what else you'd gone through that nobody else knew; he immediately scolded himself for those thoughts.
he should leave you alone, now that he is a killer. you wouldn't want to associate with him, even though choosing not to look for you makes him sick.
everything he's ever done, it's been to protect you. even when he was robin, his first concern was your safety above his own, throwing himself into danger to take a hit, only for you to scold him after as you wrapped up his bleeding wounds. he'd felt proud of it every time, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he feigned an easy-going demeanor, betrayed by his reddened cheeks.
things couldn't be the way they were before. but he wanted them to be. god, how he wished he could hold you and know that you are okay.
so imagine his shock when he saw you back on the streets. that suit, that face, he'd recognize them anywhere.
it almost infuriates him.
how could you put yourself in danger like this?! after he died! don't you know that being a hero is what got him killed? surely you do... and if you don't, that doesn't matter! you shouldn't be out there, taking on metahumans and people who should be receiving mental help instead of terrorizing the city!
he does notice, though, that you're acting separately from bruce and robin. huh. what are you planning? he tries to look into you, but you're too elusive, erasing your movements as soon as you make them. the more he tries to know, the more you elude him, and it frustrates him. if only he could meet you as red hood and give you a big scare so you'd consider backing off... maybe even hurt you so badly you'll end up in the hospital? he doesn't want that—the worst thing that could have happened to him before was seeing you cry— but if it's for your safety, then...
the reunion is unexpected. he should have seen it coming, but he didn't. he just didn't.
he's entering his safe house, exhausted from being up for more hours than he should have, planning and strategizing on how to swallow a drug cartel in the city into his own organization, when he sees you there, standing in the middle of the room, with your domino mask off as you wring it nervously in your hands.
"jason," you say breathlessly. you know he is red hood? shit. shit, this isn't how he wanted it to go.
(he didn't want it to in the first place, but if it was inevitable, then he would have wanted it to be different.)
he's tempted to throw you out. it's what he should do. why should he let you be associated with him? you'll just try to convince him to stop. you're too good, too moral, too kind— much too kind for our own good.
can't you see he doesn't deserve your kindness? you're better off in a world where you won't have to worry about the likes of him. he knows you're in college now, too. so go. leave him be. forget about him. why won't you forget about him?
he's selfish, too. so selfish, in fact, that he doesn't stop you from hugging him, or taking him to his couch, or making him tell you what happened to him, how he came back to life, and what the League of Assassins did to him.
to say you're horrified is an understatement.
"i'm so sorry," you whisper tearfully.
"what're you sorry for?" he asks, voice uncharacteristically soft for the person he's become. "none of that's your fault, you know that."
except, for some reason, you insist that you should have been there, that you should have been by his side before what happened, happened. you're set on that belief, and he absolutely hates it.
"listen," he tells you, taking you by the shoulders. "i'd rather you hadn't been there in the first place. you could have died with me, too, and..."
he trails off, the thought turning into a force pressing down on his chest.
what would have happened if you died, too?
the thought haunts him for days afterward. had you died, too, would you have had the same luck as him? would you have been brought back? if the joker had gotten his hands on you, too, would your last moments have been as painful, terrifying, and hopeless as his were?
you don't know what has him so grim, clueless about his growing dread. there shouldn't be anything to dread: you've reunited against all odds! you're together again, you can be by each other's side after all! so why is he so... depressed? contemplative?
little do you know jason's mind is spiraling. you want to be by his side, whether as a civilian or a vigilante, and whenever he sees you in spandex, bathed by the darkness of the night, ready to send people to jail while thoughtlessly risking your life... he can't take it. what would he do if you died like he did, or worse? why don't you seem to care? you look so happy, happier than he's seen you look in the tabloids of recent years. he knows that you're enjoying going back to the "good old times" with him, but he's being driven insane.
one day, he decides he's had enough: he takes and locks you in his safehouse, which he's adapted beforehand so the only one who can unlock the front door is him, effectively trapping you inside.
at first, you think someone else kidnapped you and he's here to save you, when you realize that this is his apartment. the truth dawns down on you like a hammer to the head.
"no..."
"i'm sorry," he genuienly says. "it's for the better, okay?"
the first days, you try to reason with him: what could happen to you out there? you know how to defend yourself, you've literally been trained by aliens and enhanced individuals, going on par with the likes of solomon grundy and clayface. he has nothing to fear, you'll be fine. also, what does he think bruce and tim will do? just stand around and do nothing? what about your friends? they'll start looking for you, too. and, look, you get why he did it: he's scared. of you course he's scared. nobody can blame him for it. so, you tell him, if he lets you go, everything will be okay. you can move past this and he can seek help.
but jason strikes back: he thought he could handle joker, and he couldn't. bruce and tim? let them have fun trying to find you. and your friends have no idea you're even affiliated with batman, so they won't have a clue as to why you've disappeared. besides, you don't need anything from the outside world: he can get you anything you want. and he does! your room, which he's decorated based on your previous one—he already calls it your old home—, is constantly being updated with new, top-tier, exclusive versions of your favorite things. whatever you want, it's yours. he's also giving you all the space you need to process this! albeit with a few requests here and there that you share your time with him. also, a hug wouldn't hurt... he really does want a hug. he's getting upset, seeing you so desperate to leave.
by the second week, you understand that reason won't work. so you start to ignore him: you take the meals he makes without so much as a glance his way, spend your time doing whatever you can to fill it, now that you have so much of it, pretending he isn't always watching you like a hawk, and avoid running into him whenever you can help it.
it drives jason crazy: he'd rather have you yelling and punching him because that'd show him that you still care. instead, you're more like a zombie now: going through the motions without changing your expression much.
"say something," he blurts out one afternoon all of a sudden. you simply continue to do what you're doing, and his patience snaps. he stomps towards you and grabs you by the wrist, hoisting you up so you can't ignore him. "hey! i'm talking to you!"
you flinch, because he's taller and bigger than you now. has he realized that he could hurt you, even unintentionally, and you'd have to put twice as much strain on your body to push back against him? he probably hasn't, if his own flinch is anything to go by.
"wait, shit. i didn't mean to-"
he lets go of you like your skin burns him.
"m' sorry. i just... i... i know you want to go, but i'm just trying to protect you. you can't be out there while gotham's infested with all those people. you know that, right?"
he hopes that you do. you don't think that it's reasonable to be out there, when anything could happen to you and he'd be none the wiser, do you?
but the way you look at him—tired and hurt in ways he's never seen before in the depth of your gaze— is a knife to the heart.
"whatever you say, jason," you reply, resigned, already, to the fact that his perspective is unshakeable.
he stiffens are your apathy.
has the fight really drained out of you?
"that's it?" he cannot help but utter, which creates a tingle of humor in your throat.
"yeah. that's it," you answer listlessly.
surely, it can't be it. you've got to have more to say about this.
but jason sees that you're also not up for a discussion right now. and he wouldn't mind taking care of you. so, he gently picks you up, carries you over to the couch, and holds you to himself; you don't fight him (you know now that when he gets like this, the best thing to do is let it run its course).
"i know this isn't ideal for you," he murmurs, "but i promise to keep you safe. always. even if you don't want me to."
jason places a kiss to your hair.
"you're the only thing that matters to me."
he'd made that same promise to you years ago, when he was just starting to get the ropes of beating up men twice his size in red, yellow, and green.
you can barely consider him the same person anymore.
Hiyah! I'd love to see comments on what you'd like to read on a part two or an imagine for this scenario because I love it and I kinda want to develop it, but I think you guys'll have very interesting ideas :) Thanks for reading!
Jane stop, your eyes are too bambi, your heart too pure and innocent, your feelings too deep, your ending too doomed, they never called you by your name, you never heard "i love you" back, you kill yourself, they kill you Jane.
Will stop, your eyes are too bunny, your love is way too pure, your presence ignored, your character was put aside, your narrative too doomed, they never gave you the love you deserved, they always used you, they kill you Will.
Mike stop, your eyes are too puppy, your character too complex, your ending too unfair, they misunderstood you, they took away your feelings, they made you hollow, they kill you Mike.
All at once, everything looks different, now that I see you.
will byers never found au if you squint
giyuu hasn't woken up yet, and it's been some time since the final battle against muzan. of course, very few people have woken up (at least those who were closest to the action); you yourself are an exception. even though you suffered your fair share of injuries, you are up and running again.
it feels like you've been doing that for years, so how can you stop now?
aoi, sumi, kiyo, and naho all say that you need to stay in bed, letting your body heal and what-not, but you still sneak out of your room to sit next to giyuu, holding his remaining hand on your lap as you caress his palm. sometimes you rub a circle on the part where it dips the most, and sometimes you just hold it, content to have it in your grasp.
it's to know that he's there, that his warmth means that he is still here.
"when you wake up," you say softly, "i promise i'll make you all the simmered salmon with daikon you want. just say the word and i'll make them, okay?"
you want to see him smile like he would in those rare moments where food wrung an expression of self-indugent joy out of him. you wanted him to be carefree, as he was when he ate, forjust a moment, now that everything is over.
everything is over...
your eyes fill with tears.
you miss them— you miss everyone lost to the war. most of your closest allies and friends are dead now: mitsuri, shinobu, obanai, gyomei, muichiro... at least sanemi is still here, but he hasn't woken up either, and tengen, who visits everyone daily with hinatsuru, makio, and suma. they've been a great support net, but...
"i'm so mad at him..." you admit to your unconscious partner. "i want to bring back muzan so i can kill himself. how could he take so many lives? how could he...? they're all gone, giyuu. all of them. and i know they've found peace in his death, wherever they are, but it won't bring them back, and i... i just..."
you lower your head, crying softly as your grasp on his hand tightens. giyuu breathes calmly, unaware of your sorrow but comforting you with his presence, faint as it may be.
"i keep thinking that i'll see them again: in headquarters, by their houses, just around here, and... and then i remember that they're gone. i can't believe they're gone, that the hashira... well, now there aren't really any hashira..."
it's a tough pill to swallow: your job, your purpose in life, is gone now that it has no need to exist anymore. from one day to the other, things have ended.
"what do i do now?" you ask to yourself, wiping away your tears. "giyuu... what do we do now?"
when he wakes up, you're the first person to know— literally, since you were sitting by his side, as per usual, and out of nowhere, his blue eyes snapped open, making you jump out of your chair (which earned you a lot of pain from you healing wounds).
and when aoi finally deems him stable enough to let you be in his room, you catch him on the current state of things. he stays quiet for a long time, taking it all in—his missing limb, the disbandment of the corps, how much time has passed since he was last awake— before nodding slowly.
"it's a lot to take in," you say, intertwining your fingers with his.
"yeah..." he murmurs tiredly. "but most of all... i'm just glad you're here."
"i'm glad you're here, too," you answer with a small smile. "you scared me there for a second."
"you, too," he says, sending you an accusatory look.
you know exactly what he is talking about the moment those words leave his mouth, and you nod understandingly.
"i'm alright now. i can walk around and i-"
"i thought you'd died."
that shuts you up real quick.
"i thought that you'd left me," giyuu continues, his gaze steely despite his battered body. "when i saw that you weren't getting up and that he was drawing near you..."
"that didn't happen," you interrupt him. "i'm alive. we're both alive."
"what if you weren't?"
"but i am. we both are."
both of you say nothing for a moment, the weight of your words settling in.
"we're alive," you say again. "so... what do we do now?"
giyuu thinks about it momentarily.
"i have no idea."
you chuckle weakly.
"me neither. honestly, i never imagined that all demons would die in our generation. i thought that'd be the future ones' doing."
"we can't change that," giyuu says. "so we need to keep moving forward."
"yes... but i honestly have no idea how to live a normal adult life," you tell him in a deadpan tone, perfectly aware that he doesn't either.
giyuu mulls on this, glancing away.
"...we could live in a farm."
you raise an eyebrow.
"a farm."
"yes. we could have cattle and grow our own food. we wouldn't need anybody or anything else."
"is that what you want?" you ask, holding his hand between yours. "'cause if that's it, then... i want to go with you to that farm. maybe i can learn how to play the guitar or something so, if we make a bonfire, i can play us some music."
"mmh," he utters as an answer, turning so he can face you better.
"careful," you remind him, but he moves anyway. "you're still recovering."
"so are you. what are you doing out of bed?"
"you sound like aoi right now and i'm disliking it very much."
"kanna, get over here."
you playfully sigh before obeying, slipping into bed right next to him. giyuu hugs you and rests his chin on your head, a placid expression settling on his face.
"stay here," he requests; you hear a hint of desperation mixed in there, and it breaks your heart just a bit.
"i promise i'm not going anywhere."
Before I Go - a Byler fanfic
Synopsis: Will's mind snapped after Vecna tried to hijack it. Because he pushed it too far, trying to remain himself, Will's sanity slipped, and he is confined at Hawkins Lab while they try to determine his connection to Vecna.
That link between him and Will is still present, so they try to help his mind, but nothing works— except for Mike Wheeler. TW: mental torture, severe self-care and self-esteem issues from Mike's part, and a whole lot of angst. You can read the fic on AO3, too, or check the tags here: https://archiveofourown.gay/works/79815231
Fic starts under the cut!
Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters
Jason Todd loves to sleep with his arms around your waist and his head on your tummy.
He says that it's the best spot where to get lost in: it's warm and, most importantly, a very vulnerable spot— he really likes that you feel so comfortable with him.
Regardless of its shape, softness, tightness, bodily hair, etc, he will make it his personal pillow, snuggling his face against it and kissing it every chance he gets.
He likes it best when you run your hands through his hair or (even better!) speak to him while he slowly falls asleep. Your presence reminds him that he is safe: you are his shelter and his solace.
It's usual for him to want it after a particularly long and hard night, trying to make Gotham a better place for its most defenseless citizens. He doesn't want to wake you up if you're already asleep, but... he needs it more than anything.
Jason will lower himself down on the bed as gently as he can, pull your clothes up, and put his head where it belongs: on you. And if you wake up, he will apologize in whispers, his rough voice a clear indication that he wants to be pampered. "I know that it's late... still, would you, please? :("
You'd think that what is only a small gesture is actually a panacea.
If you say no, then that's... fine.
Yeah, it's fine.
He'll take longer to sleep, but it's fine: it is always your choice. You might have a difficult day, too, so he gets it. But! He will ask for it again in the morning. And if you don't want to in the morning, he'll back off and then make you breakfast instead because he loves you very much! If you say yes, he's quietly thrilled, already feeling his eyes falling closed. Jason associates your touch with security; it gives him a cozy feeling, so it's no wonder that he is soon out like a light. You will wake up with a beautiful man looking like he is in Heaven, at ease, for once.
they really shouldve just given holly's plotline to mike.
imagine the chaos of the madwheeler duo running rampant in vecnas mind.
imagine them being forced to see each others worst memories and recognising the real reason they butt heads so often is because they just cant stand how similar they really are.
imagine they fight because theyre still in denial about their similarities because theyre both self hating idiots, and/or they have some sort of disagreement, maybe about how to escape or maybe max confronts him about how he's treated el in the past.
imagine that right as tensions are highest, they stumble into another memory and max finds out that mikes big secret is that hes in love with will. and he expects her to berate him. to yell at him, say she just knew there was something wrong with him, but of course she doesn't. she just hugs him and tells him its okay. and he's so caught off guard that he doesn't even react at first, but then piece by piece he just starts to break down and cry into her shoulder, because its such a relief to finally just admit it to someone, and the fact that max, someone who isnt very fond of him on a good day, still accepts him honestly just makes her the perfect person to admit it to.
imagine she opens up to him about how it wasn't the music that saved her at all, it was her connection, her love for lucas, and that if he wants to escape he has to accept the same thing for himself. he has to realize what love really tethers him to this world.
Imagine if you put your life on the line for Jason Todd... and got wounded.
Notes: second person, Jason's pov, reader suffered from blood loss after the wound.
TW: Jason having depressive thoughts about himself, akin to feeling as though he 'taints' reader's life with his presence; self-sacrifice on reader's part; very low self-esteem from Jason's part; talk of death.
It wasn't supposed to happen, he'd tell himself.
You weren't meant to get caught in the crossfire. Not you, not you, never you. He should have kept you safe, should have insisted that you stayed away until his throat bled and his voice gave out.
You, selfless, loving you, decided to do something so stupid as to sacrifice himself for him. And for what? Now, you're lying on a gurney, unconscious, weak and vulnerable, and he can't do anything about it— he can't fix his own mistake.
Jason Todd x Lover!Reader from a universe where he never came back to life
TW: self-esteem issues/self-doubt from reader's part; and Jason thinking that he technically is not supposed to be alive.
Jason Todd, who is SMITTEN by you.
Jason Todd, who calls you 'ma' and 'sweetheart' like they're your actual names.
Jason Todd, who may or may not fantasize about keeping you in bed forever, with an arm wrapped around your waist and the other settled on your warm chest.
Jason Todd, who loves, loves, loves to place his head on your chest, much like a kitten in need of the sunlight's warmth.
Jason Todd, who thinks you're too good for him but would, without a hint of hesitation, kill and die for you. "Trauma?" Who's that? As long as it's for you, there're no odds he can't face.
Jason Todd, who likes to kiss you all over because everything about you is just so precious to him: your tummy, your forehead, your nose, the tip of your fingers, your thighs— you name it.
Jason Todd, who instantly becomes a professional chef the moment you ask him to cook for you. He doesn't even need that, actually: if he sees that you need it, then you're getting the greatest meal you've ever tried.
Jason Todd, who would rather you stay out of his dangerous life. However, if you are already involved, then he will go to whatever lengths necessary to keep you safe.
Jason Todd, who puts your well-being above everything else.
Jason Todd, who adores watching you. Just seeing you be, doing whatever it is you're doing, makes him a lovesick fool. You could be brushing your teeth with a zombie-like face after only two hours of sleep, and he will still come behind you, take you into his arms, and murmur how much you mean to him.
Jason Todd, who holds you after a nightmare, whispering reassuring words against your temple, rocking you back and forth. Don't want to get touched? That's fine, too: he's making you a hot beverage and making sure to stay awake until you feel well enough to go back to sleep.
Jason Todd, who spots you in a crowd like you're the only one there.
Jason Todd, who is immediately soothed by the sound of your voice.
Jason Todd, who makes sure to tell you at least once a day that he loves you.
Jason Todd, who, even during fights, still gets worried about you. He will not take long to knock on your door or send you a message and express regret, shame, or, at the very least, a willingness to talk things out in the future.
Jason Todd, who hates, with a burning passion, people who cheat on their partners. Like, he doesn't get it: how could you betray someone else's trust to the degree that it may take years of therapy for them to heal? Whenever he gets a little mad thinking about it, he asks for you and leaves a few kisses on your neck, swearing never to do something like that to you, because he's "an asshole, but that much of an asshole".
Jason Todd, who is half-convinced that you'll leave him eventually and has decided not to beg for you to stay and let you go, regardless of how much it makes him want to break down.
Jason Todd, who sometimes gets home and needs a big hug where you'll hold him for longer than usual. Please, don't ask. Or ask, but he'll take a sec to get to the root of the issue. Anyway, just hug him, please.
Jason Todd, who fantasizes about a peaceful world where you and he can live at ease.
Jason Todd <3