Catholic Jason, An Alternate Version, And Detail Shots

This panel kills me every time

March for More: Names

MASTERPOST

"...Do you need a pad or tampon or something?"

Danny, Jason's roommate, blinks and sputters in confusion from where he sits on the floor in a pool of blood, "Wh-what??"

Jason pauses, wondering if he had been wrong about Danny wearing a binder around the dorm, but no. He and Danny had been roommates for a while and Jason knew a binder when he saw one. So, why is he... oh shit.

"Shit, are you bleeding out right now?" Jason fumbles to take off his jacket, trying to hurry into the dorm so he can help. "Just- wait a sec, I've got a first aid kit."

Danny only stares, a hand pressed tight to his ribs where he's either been cut or shot and shit, Jason needs to see it to know what he's working with. "I- you don't need to-" Danny tries to say as Jason settles in front of him, but Jason only sets down the kit and glares until his roommate moves his hands.

"Shit," Jason hisses as blood begins leaking out of what is clearly not a stab or gunshot wound but something fucking gruesome and... Holy shit, did someone torture him, what the fuck? Jason shakes off the thought, grabbing antiseptic and stitches and gauze—fuck this is gonna suck.

As he works, Danny sits still, practically lifeless, and if it weren't for the occasional hiss or flinch, Jason would think he'd completely disassociated. And if it weren't for the blood on his hands and the gasping body below him, Jason would probably already be out the door. Searching, hunting, killing whoever the fuck did this.

What Jason is stitching up right now isn't just typical Gotham street crime, isn't a stick-up gone wrong or a hit and run or a gang war, no. This is intentional, like being tied down in a crumbling building and beaten and broken and teased with the salvation of passing out. Jason would know.

He shakes his head, this isn't the same. Danny, sitting in front of him and breathing shakily, is alive. He's alive, and whoever did this won't be soon enough.

"Names. Give me their fucking names, Danny."

penis dashboard kind of night

this shit is the only remaining good part of twitter

Dead on Main Sugar Daddy

AKA "Ghost King Danny unintentionally becomes Jason "Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss" Todd's sugar daddy" prompt!

This is kind of a continuation of Graveyard Favors, but not really lmao.

I just love the idea of Jason coming back from the dead, wearing all Expensive Clothes and literally ancient cursed jewelry, and Bruce is just like, "Where did you get that? I didn't buy it for you. You haven't used your allowance either?" And Jason's obviously not going to admit he has the High King of Infinite Realms, Space, and the Dead as a sugar daddy. (Maybe he would, he's a dramatic theatre kid at heart, but it's funnier if he just straight up lies.)

He says, "I'm literally a crime lord, old man, keep up?? Jesus."

But the more he thinks about it, the more he actually likes the idea. Jason wants to help people, make sure they never experience the same fate he did, and where else to do it than the place he grew up? He knows there are tons of kids he can help, families who have a lack of resources. He's not afraid to get his hands dirty - he's already killed the Joker.

So, Jason calls up his Ghost King sugar daddy, points to Crime Alley, and is like, "I want that."

Danny, in Tucker's ratty Amity-U hoodie and ripped jeans, cheesepuff sticking halfway out of his mouth, "What???"

Danny declares Crime Alley as Jason's Haunt. It's officially Jason's territory in both the human realm and the Ghost Zome; conveniently, that also means that no supernatural (dead or alive) can enter the territory without Jason knowing. It also makes Crime Alley emit major Do Not vibes. Bad guys feel this Dread of being watched constantly, residents feel a bit safer knowing there's somebody who will help if they're in danger, and Jason patrols often enough that everybody starts to associate him as the local crime lord. He also uses Danny's money to invest in some social programs in Crime Alley, like open access food pantries, shelters, domestic violence & sexual assault support, a community garden, little libraries, funding for after school activities, etc.

Because the former Ghost King is absolutely loaded. Danny has eons of old stuff piled in his throne room in the Ghost Zone from Aztec Gold to alien technology. He's not using it and nobody's gonna miss it, so if Jason asks for it, Danny gives it to him. (Does he know Jason is selling it for an absolute shitton of money? Maybe, maybe not. He doesn't really care where it ends up as long as it won't cause the apocalypse.)

So, yeah, that's how Jason actually becomes the crime lord of Crime Alley.

i'm thinking about jason vs white streak and a helmet that doesn't cover his entire face, and the absolute missed comedy of the entirety of crime alley thinking that they are getting beaten up by a very old man.

Average crime alley guy: yeah and then he stopped wearing the full face cover and his hair is like white underneath it's so weird--

other guy: wait. like. white? Like. LIke old person white?

Average crime alley guy: oh my god. oh my goooood. he uses a voice modulator to hide that he's approximately 98 years old. mr hood sir do you need help crossing the street?

Jason, 19: ?????????????

jason then realizes the convenience of being able to take off the mask and no one realize it's him because they're looking for someone older than alfred and just goes along with it and tells increasingly made up stories about being young in the 40s while shooting peoples kneecaps out.

Batsiblings convince Jason to get himself a cooking Tiktok account, and he gives in. To his surprise, he quickly gains millions of followers and a loyal auditory. The only problem? Jason has no idea that these people came here not necessary for recipes.

Jason: Geez, my followers had been pissing me off lately. Dick, confused: Huh? Why? Jason: They keep commenting ATE. Like, dude? Fucking where? I am not eating in my cooking videos. What is the fucking point? Tim, choking: Oh my fucking God-

Jason, making an angry text post for his followers: YOU ALL. STOP COMMENTING "RAW". MY MEAT IS NOT RAW. I AM A PROPER COOK. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU??? Cassandra: Maybe it is time to tell him... Tim, Steph, Duke, in unison: NO

Bruce, awkwardly trying to have a conversation with Jason: Hey, lad, how is your cooking blog is going? Jason: Uh, people keep commenting cryptid messages. Like, the last time I was showing the right way to tenderise meat for chops because apparently it wasn't clear and someone requested the whole video? Anyway, I did it, and the whole comment section was writing me "in bed, on the floor, on the couch, on a chair, against the wall, against the window, against the door"... Like, why would I do that, not in the kitchen? Bruce, no less clueless: Maybe it some kind of challenge. Kids love trying new stuff in extreme places nowadays. Jason: Huh. Maybe. Thanks. Bruce, just proud to have a proper conversation and somehow a help: Anytime, Jaylad! Damian, who was unblissfully educated on the slang matter by Tim (because it was his responsibility as a big brother to traumatise him), with his eye twitching: ...None of these words were in Koran

Brucie and his babies (and oh no he forgot he invited Clark and Diana oh no-)