ADOPTING ISSUES
Ive mentioned before, I think everyone agrees that out of the Batfam if anyone was going to inherit Bruce’s habit of adopting strays, it was Jason. Not that he’d admit it. But somehow, despite all his denials, he always ended up with a group of kids under his protection. He still did the Red Hood thing—hunting criminals, dealing out his own brand of justice—but under no circumstances were his kids ever allowed to get involved. It wasn’t up for discussion.
Instead, Jason made sure they had therapy, good doctors, dentists, and semi-regular check-ups. He grumbled about it the entire time, but if one of his kids so much as winced while eating ice cream, he was scheduling an emergency dental appointment before they even finished their cone.
But where Jason really shined—the place where he became an unstoppable force of chaos—was when someone messed with his kids.
If it was a lowlife or a criminal? Easy. He’d handle it personally. No questions asked. No negotiations. But if it was someone he couldn’t just put in the ground? That’s when things got interesting.
Take, for example, the time one of his kids had a teacher who made an unsavory remark. A normal parent would have a stern conversation. Maybe request a meeting. Jason? Jason went full Karen mode.
It started with a calm phone call to the school, demanding to speak with a supervisor. That quickly escalated to a face-to-face confrontation with the office staff, followed by a very public dressing-down of the teacher, the headmaster, and anyone else in authority who dared get in his way. He made a scene so loud, so dramatic, that the entire school community knew about it by lunchtime. Parents whispered. Teachers avoided eye contact. The PTA group chat exploded.
By the time he was done, the teacher was this close to being fired. Every parent in the district had turned against them. Their reputation was in tatters.
Then, Jason met the teacher one-on-one. They expected the same explosive reaction they got over the phone, the same yelling and theatrics. But instead? Silence. Jason just stared.
And somehow, that was so much worse.
Because Jason Todd wasn’t just some angry dad. He was a walking double fridge of a man who could most likely pick up the teacher and snap them in half without breaking a sweat. His glare alone could have peeled paint off the walls. And while he never said a word, the teacher knew. They knew.
Then, things started happening.
Within a week, the teacher found themselves shunned by their colleagues. Their car? Mysteriously wrecked. Their home? Broken into—but nothing was stolen. Instead, they found an empty gun case, a set of bullets neatly arranged beside it, their full name engraved on each one.
They knew Jason had something to do with it. But could they prove it? No. And the minute they tried to explain to anyone that Jason Todd—former street kid, sweetheart single father —was out to get them, they just sounded insane.
In the end, the teacher had two choices:
1. Lose their mind and end up in Arkham.
2. Move as far away from Gotham as physically possible.
They chose the latter.
Jason, of course, never admitted to anything. He just kept taking his kids to their therapy appointments, helping with homework, and making sure they had everything they needed. Because at the end of the day, Jason Todd wasn’t just a vigilante.
He was a dad. A ridiculous, overprotective, unhinged dad.
And if Gotham had a problem with that?
Well. That was their problem.
