Jason Todds Family Masterlist

Jason Todd/Red Hood Masterlist

* = Explicit/NSFWAA = African-American

🗣️ | Submission | Male Reader | 🗣️

🔴 *| NSFW Alphabet |* 🔴

🩳 | Domestic Living With Jason | College Male Reader | 🩳

🥰 | Protective Lover | College Male Reader | 🥰

❤️‍🔥 *| Puppy Love | College Male Reader |* ❤️‍🔥

🤬 *| Rag Doll | Male Reader |* 🤬

🏍️ *| The Rebel | Omega Male Reader |* 🏍️

🥷🏻 *| Remember | Meta Male Reader |* 🥷🏻

❌ | Safer With Me | Male Darling Reader | ❌ (YANDERE)

👏🏻 | Sassy Man Jason | College Male Reader | 👏🏻

🪢 *| Take Care Of Me | AA Omega Male Reader |* 🪢

Five + One Series | College Male Reader | *| Rescuing 💪🏻 | * | Protective 🛡️ | | TikTok 🤳🏽 |

You got any jiuyuan fics to recommend? 👀 I haven’t been in that tag in a while but I got this strong urge to go back and completely devour everything

Btw your art is lovely ❤️

Aww thank you 🥰 As for fics, in no particular order:

The Tiger of Hu (and it’s companion POV) - @ruensroad

has to go at the top of the list despite what I just said XD

The Upstart King and his Golden Concubine - @ilthit

Press A to romance the Scum Villain - @bamboospirit

Lonely Boy - xnemone

Falling for a Villain - princeless

the places where others gave you scars - Blue_tea06, Chesra, SteamingOwl

whither and bloom - tskmo

another of my top five, in the middle of updating tho

It was for the books - EssenceOfAnnoyance

Across the Stars - also ruensroad

It says it’s incomplete but it has such a satisfying ending

Dear Future Husband, rough draft - embercookie 

Three Wishes - Kasasagi

also unfinished but a great reverse transmigration

I love them so much

PART I: “Before the Fall”

You were theirs.

Not by blood, but by choice. A fragile thing they tucked between missions and secrets, stitched into their vigilante world like an afterthought.

You bled for them. Broke for them. Loved them.

And in return, you were ignored. Forgotten.

Until it killed you.

BRUCE treated you like a mission.

He never looked you in the eye for long. You weren’t broken enough to fix. Weren’t angry enough to understand. You were… quiet. And in Bruce’s world, quiet meant safe. Safe meant forgotten.

You once cried in front of him.

He handed you a tissue.

Then walked away.

“I’m not cold,” he said. “I’m busy.”

No Bat-Signal lit the sky the night you crashed.

You wondered if he was too busy again.

DICK was golden—too golden.

He danced in rooms you weren’t welcome in. Shared inside jokes with everyone but you. You loved his laugh. It never belonged to you.

You were the invisible little sister in the shadows of his spotlight.

When you asked for help training, he smiled distractedly and said, “Later, kid. Gotta handle a thing with Babs.”

Later never came.

You died waiting.

JASON was fire and ash and guilt. He saw too much of himself in you—and hated it. Pushed you away, sneered when you offered warmth.

“You’re soft. You’ll die out there.”

He was right.

But he wasn’t there to stop it.

You died with his voice echoing in your head, telling you that you weren’t ready.

TIM was intellect over intimacy.

He monitored your vitals, not your emotions. Read your files but never your pain. You were a background process in his overworked mind.

“You’re fine, Y/N. I checked the data.”

But data didn’t measure how it felt when the comm went dead as your car sank under icy Gotham waters.

DAMIAN thought you were weak.

A pathetic, emotional creature. Soft where he was sharp. You didn’t fit his world of blades and honor.

He mocked your kindness. Scoffed at your compassion.

“Feelings are a liability.”

And yet it was your last emotion—loneliness—that killed you.

BARBARA liked you in theory.

But in truth, you reminded her of the parts of herself she left behind. She passed you in hallways, always polite but distant. When you asked for guidance once, she blinked and said, “You’ll figure it out. You’re smart.”

You did figure it out. That no one was coming.

CASSANDRA knew.

She saw it.

Your crumbling spirit, your silent screams, the way you clutched your own arms for comfort. She saw it—but said nothing. Maybe because she thought you’d rise like she did.

But you weren’t her.

You broke.

And when your car crashed, when water filled your lungs—

No one heard you call their names.

PART II: “The Drowning”

The sea was black. Silent.

You reached for the comm. Static.

You reached for them. No one reached back.

So you sank.

“They forgot me,” you whispered, choking on salt and blood.

And in the depth of the dark, something answered.

They came with voices like velvet knives.

The Sirens.

Ageless. Divine. Terrifying in their elegance.

“She is beautiful,” one murmured.

“So much grief,” whispered another.

“Let us make her eternal,” sang the third.

They wept over your corpse like mourners and lovers all at once.

Then they sang.

And you opened your eyes.

PART III: “The Voice”

You rose from the sea like wrath incarnate.

Skin pale like sea-foam, hair dark as oil-slick waves, eyes glowing with the ache of rebirth.

And your voice—

Oh, your voice was everything they weren’t.

It made gods weep.

It made tyrants kneel.

And now?

Now it made the Batfamily suffer.

You sang through Gotham’s gutters. Through its halls. Through its guilt.

Each note soaked in memory, coated in venom, dipped in your once-aching heart.

They heard you. They remembered.

And it was already too late.

Dick found an old voicemail of yours. Your voice, human and hopeful:

“Hey, big bro. Just checking in. I… I miss you. Call me back?”

He never did.

Now your siren-song haunts his dreams.

“You were always laughing… while I drowned.”

He stopped smiling.

Jason chased your voice like a drunk man after ghosts.

He stood in Crime Alley, where your melody curled around broken bricks:

“You said I’d die. Then watched it happen.”

He tore his helmet off and screamed.

But your song only grew louder.

Tim can’t think straight. Your voice nests in his mind like a fever.

“You studied everything… except me.”

He’s built tech to track the sound. None of it works.

You are everywhere.

Damian fought illusions of you.

Sparred with shadows you sent, forced to relive your death on loop—because your song could bend reality.

“Feelings are a liability? Then let me be your weakness.”

He trained harder.

And broke anyway.

Barbara tried to defend the Batfamily.

Until your voice turned her own words against her.

“You told me I was smart. So I learned not to trust you.”

Her monitors flicker with static shaped like your silhouette.

Cassandra cries in silence.

Because she knew.

And she said nothing.

And you haven’t punished her yet.

That terrifies her the most.

Bruce?

Bruce sits alone in your room. The dust hasn’t settled. Neither has his guilt.

He hears your song the loudest.

“Father. You taught me how to fight… but never how to heal.”

He built the Batfamily.

He buried you with it.

And you?

You are sea-born now.

You walk the shores of Gotham, bare feet dripping salt and power. Your voice summons gods. Breaks mortals. Haunts your killers.

You are not their sister anymore. Not their daughter. Not their soldier.

You are the Siren.

And they will never forget you again.

No matter how much they scream.

DP x DC Prompt.

Deadserious

.

>Danny had a problem. He thought he handled it well. He couldn't tell his civillian boyfriend of his half-dead status.

He definitely couldn't let him find out by being summoned by some culty wannabes who wanted to rule the world.

Easy solution: Volunteer to be the sacrifice, turn his eyes green, and act like a Royal prick and powerful being. Get rescued by one of Gothams 50 vigilantes. And claim no memory.

Boom, secret identity underwraps.

He didn't expect everyone to treat him so fragile after.

>

Damian also had a problem. That problem, being his civilian boyfriend, was obviously possessed by a spirit of the ghastly ghost king and was utterly clueless about it.

And it was all his fault.

Danny Fenton was the next June Moore/ Enchantress. Except he was hosting one of the most powerful beings in the universe.

And that lovable idiot had no damn idea about it.

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Being submerged in a new way of living can be, figuratively, a very stressful time for a sixteen-year-old. New school. New city. New friends. 

And a new family, which can be a very fragile subject to handle.

Especially when you are forced to pretend to be someone who is no longer alive; all while looking for your missing twin, learning to keep your uncontrolled powers a secret, and discovering how not to lose your own identity with a body that is very much not your own.

(Y/N) Maximoff did not sign up for family drama. (Y/N) Wayne did not sign up to die young.

Both of them seem to become Death’s favorite tragedy.

Can Maximoff not lose herself in a place designed to see her crash and burn at the stake? Will she be able to find a place to belong? Learn to own up to her situation and even get some peace for the girl that is no longer amongst the living? Get some proper answers in a city full of mystery and secrets?

Thankfully, most of the questions have a positive outcome.

Can she escape from the haunting shadows of a family of obsessive bats?

That may be a lot harder to respond to, as expected.

Masterlist:

Reader's Moodboard

Chapter 1: I Could Be The Eye Of The Storm

Chapter 2: I Am Not My Body, Not My Mind, Or My Brain

Chapter 3: Not My Thoughts And Feelings, I Am Not My DNA

Chapter 4: Don’t You Find It Strange? The Only Thing We Share Is One Last Name

Chapter 5: Get Along With The Voices Inside Of My Head (TBA)

Playlists:

Fic's Playlist

Maximoff's Playlist

Wayne's Playlist

Tag List: (Open)

 @bat1212 @kneelforloki @1abi @galaxypurplerose @yhin-gg @cxcilla @momentomoribitch @stargirl404 @initial-ari @welpthisisboring @icefox8155 @bunniotomia @alittlelostmoonchild @devotedlyshamelessdetective @shycreatorreview @nirvanaxx1942 @soulsire @ryuushou @rinkydinkythinky @lithiumval @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @cssammyyarts @lordbugs

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 1: I Could Be The Eye Of The Storm

It has been said that when a person is on the verge of death, their brain shows various memories of their life for seven minutes. Seven minutes of beautiful, happy memories that marked your life.

From the moment you gave the wailing, shocking cry as the cold air of the outside world hit your wrinkly, red skin, fresh out of the womb, until the very last few moments, you keep on fighting to keep air down your lungs, and your heart slowly stops pumping blood into your veins.

A way of welcoming the end of your life peacefully, if you can see it that way. 

Most people become cynical when it comes to the end of the cycle of life. Either for loss of faith or not wanting to think about what comes after it. 

It’s probably because of fear.

No, it’s definitely because of fear.

Everyone is afraid of what happens when you cross to the other side. That’s a fact. A human fact.

That’s why the seven minutes are such a comforting idea. Seeing all the good things you have lived before going away into a black abyss of uncertainty. 

A last ray of warm light. 

(Y/N) Wayne doesn’t get her seven minutes.

Well, not her own seven minutes.

From the moment her body sank to the bottom of the water, Wayne knew her seven minutes would not be of warm, happy memories.

They would be of dark, cold hallways. Empty chairs on her birthday table. Short excuses and empty apologies for any type of tournament they didn’t assist. Cold shoulders and annoyed stares whenever she spoke or made ‘dumb’ questions.

Her dad’s empty silence. Dick’s soft avoidance. Jason’s burning anger. Tim’s sharp cut-offs. Damian’s freezing hatred. 

Perhaps Death would allow her to have Alfred’s warming smiles and compassion. Maybe even the sweet melody of her mother’s humming voice as she laid on that small bed in the asylum.

Instead, she gets seven minutes of a complete acid trip.

A small town with overly nice people. A woman and a man who are completely in love with one another. A house that changes from black and white to color, the furniture changing with the decades. Two babies, twins, a girl and a boy. The rush of the wind against her skin as she runs in a complete sugar rush with a man with silver hair and then the woman saying ‘if she was to break the sound barrier, she would take her brother with her’. A huge fight with blows of red and purple and guns ending in with a warm family hug with the twins, a scarlet witch, and an android with a soul.

A good night scene, the woman kissing each of them on the forehead before turning the lights off. The boy crawling into the girl’s bed and both of them holding to each other tightly as their world crumbles around them in a red dome.

‘Good night,---’

‘Good night, Billy.’

That name gets stuck in her brain as life slips away from her lungs. It echoes in a gentle, childish voice as it grows farther and farther away. Just like the air bubbles escaping from her mouth and nose.

‘A twin,’ a final thought muses. 

‘I always wanted a twin.’

‘Please, let me have that life next time.’

‘Please, let it be–’

•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•

“Billy!”

Those are the words (Y/N) Maximoff tried to say as her mouth graggled and vomited all the water from inside her lungs once she fought to remain afloat in the deep, dark water. The left side of her head throbbed like hell, making her dizzy and tired while swimming in a puppy-like style on her right side to finally reach the edge of the nasty pool she woke up in. 

Climbing it was another gigantic chore, but she refused to remain on the murky (read as definitely contaminated) water any longer.

Coughing up her guts and wheezing for air while drenched in nasty water and bleeding wound on the head was so going to the ‘Situations I Never Wish To Repeat Ever in My Life’ list. 

It would be the only one on it, but with the way things are looking at the moment, she is pretty sure that list is only going to keep growing.

She lay on her right side once she no longer felt like she was choking. Or maybe because her adrenaline finally crashed and her strength just gave up. 

Taking deep breaths, the situation began to sink in.

She was supposed to be dead. Gone. Kaput!

Or at least that’s what she thought. All that she remembers is Billy.

Half of her, never too far away. Always together. It’s how it is supposed to be.

Billy is not here. She is alone.

Alone. Cold. Wet. Hurt. 

Did she mention being wet? She hates being wet. She hates how heavy it makes her clothes (a uniform, from what she could see?). She hates how cold it makes her skin. She hates how it reminds her of the empty floating space she was held in before Billy brought her back.

Took him long enough! Billy knows how much she hates empty dark places.

With a groan, she sits up on the cold concrete, her wet figure leaving an imprint of water forming her silhouette as if it were a murder scene. All that was left was the white tape, the thought of it making her snort.

She came to regret it once the wound on her head gave a sharp ping of pain, almost as if her body was punishing her for thinking such morbid things.

Wincing as her hand went up to touch where the wound was throbbing. The groan that was about to come out turned into a rough cough once her fingers came up bloody. 

Her fingertips rubbed the clogged blood between them, eyes moving from them to look around her.

It was an abandoned place. By the looks of it, back in its former glory, it would have been a public pool. The sun chairs were all broken, rusted, and twisted in ways that left the tubes looking like some abstract sculpture. Some umbrellas were scattered around; either closed, open, or broken in various degrees. The pool was still filled with water, if you call it that. It was a deep green that switched between brown and black depending on which angle you looked from.

A wired fence surrounded the place, some noticeable holes that indicated people would sneak in to do graffiti, drink or smoke if the clear signs on the walls and scattered around the floor weren’t enough.

A wave of nausea came over her as she looked back againg at the pool. She scattered on her knees as quick as possible to empty her stomach once again on a overgrown bush by the fence.

She clung to the fence, finally gathering the strength to stand up on her feet. Shivers went down her spine at the feeling of her socks squashing water on her pretty much ruined school shoes. Her head hanged for a few moments, head ringing from all that transpired in the last few minutes.

Billy. She needed to find Billy.

He has all the answers. She was a hundred percent sure he was the one that put her here. Not sure why he left her on her own and hurt and drowning in a pool that pretty much looks like the dark plague made in a liquid, but he would explain. He has an answer for everything. Always. And he will probably know where M–...

Her head suddenly went blank. As if it where a clean slate that left her in a dazed state. Once it was over, a groan of pain was heard from her, a splitting headache forming behind her eye balls.

…Wait. What was she thinking?

…

Billy. She has to find Billy.

She clung to that name, scrunching down a hole on the fence big enough for her to slip out. A few loose wires scraping against her uniform and legs. One even managed to snag at her skirt once she stood up fully on the other side.

Grumbling under her breath, taking the now broken cloth and finishing ripping it off.

‘Now she has an improvised bandage!’ A very animated thought came to her mind making her smile pleasantly.

Thankfully, the blood stopped flowing a while back so wiping the residue wasn’t that bad. She was a little bit hesitant to use it as bandage due to it being soaked with the water of the pool but she had no other choice.

Either get an infection or walk around looking like a murder victim.

“Infection it is,” she muttered while moving her hair away from her left temple and wrapping the cloth around her head.

She probably looked like Rambo if he was a pathetic wet child.

“Now, which way should I go?” she wondered out loud as she looked around the alley way. The building walls were too tall to see beyond them, and the sky was already turning pretty dark.

Walking carefully as she used the bricked wall as support, the next thing that came to view was a busy street.

People going from side to side, not even giving a spare glance at others. Some on their phones scrolling or on calls. Others simply walking while staring at a destination but never at another person. Men, women, kids, teens, of all ages.

Nobody spared a glance at her.

Which is honestly the best scenario from her point of view. No time to delay on her search.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a gruff voice asked from her side.

Busted!

She moved her head to the side to look at the man. Tall, a bit round but more like a dad bod. Greying brown hair on the sides along with a mustache. Old fashioned glasses and a thick coat with a insignia on the left side.

A police insignia.

‘Stand down!’ ‘Handle the military, I’ll be right back!’ ‘Nice tricks.’ ‘Like yours too’-

Voices scattered around her head in flashes. She didn’t see who were saying them, only blurry silhouettes of color moving around before she was brought back to the present moment.

She took a step back. The man frowned. Not in anger but it looked like worry.

His gaze moved over her, checking her until he reached her face. Then he looked almost shocked for a moment.

Or was I something else?

“Wayne? What are you doing all the way down here? And alone?” He began tossing questions as he took another step closer and grasping her shoulder gently but firmly.

‘So it was a worried expression, got it.’

“What happened? You’re soaked to the bone!” He took off his coat and wrapped it around her. It was way bigger on her but she couldn’t complain over the warmth it brought her. She hadn’t realized how cold she actually was.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t mention it, dear girl. But you haven’t answered my question, Wayne.” His voice turned a bit firm.

Damn. What was she supposed to say? And who the hell was Wayne?!

“Um, I don’t remember?” She lifted her shoulders with an awkward smile.

Best thing to do when you get caught by the police is too always act dumb. Or pretend amnesia. Which isn’t that far away from the truth, but hey, A win is win!

The man frowned, rubbing his temples as his glasses knocked up to his head with a sigh. An exasperated one. Then he took a deep breath and began to move her by the shoulders and start walking.

“You obviously got a wound on the head, so it could be a concussion. I’m driving you to the station so the Doc can check on you, alright?”

He asks as if she had a choice, which she clearly didn’t.

But, she let him walk her to the patrol car. Weighing her options, this was the better choice. Her main plan was asking around for Billy and maybe even climbing into the ceiling of a building and yell for him…

She wasn’t the best at planning. Sue her.

Now, she has better options. At the police station, she could get a change of clothes (maybe even get a quick shower if she begs?), get her wound checked out and also find information on where Billy is. All of that before they find out she is not whoever this Wayne person is.

Three birds in one shot! (Hopefully four birds. She stinks like a sewer rat.)

“Can I sound the alarm?!” She asks as soon as both of them get in the car.

He looks a bit startled at the sudden excitement. Even a bit off putting. But he just shakes his head with a quiet laugh and shows her the switch.

“Just wait until we get to-“

The alarm started blasting at full volume along with manical squealing.

•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•

“Yes, thank you so much for the call. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

The old phone clicks the end of the call, a moment of silence interrupted with a sigh from Alfred as he walks away to gather his coat and keys of the car. He is grateful the call came in just as he finished seasoning the dinner for the night. The boys are grown enough to know where the utensils and plates are to serve themselves. He doesn’t know how long this would take and traffic in Gotham is a living nightmare.

But before leaving, he made a quick detour through the manor. His destination; the master’s office. He had to be informed about this.

Even if it has been years since he actually made an effort for Lady (Y/N).

The young lady of the house has always been deemed as a quiet presence by the members of the family. Keeping her thoughts and opinions to herself. Polite and well mannered. Willing to do any type of chore if it meant having at least someone to notice her. A greeting word, a gentle touch or even a warm hug. But all of that were for nothing.

She wasn't deemed loud enough amongst her peers to matter.

But to Alfred, she was the loudest presence to ever set foot in the Wayne Manor. It was almost sad how deaf the rest of the family was when it came to (Y/N).

Three sharp knocks on the door were enough for Master Bruce to let him enter the office. The curtains were already closed, almost giving a dark atmosphere if it weren't for the warm light lamps on his desk and by the corners of the room.

Master Bruce didn't even lift his head from the documents he was revewing.

"Is something wrong, Alfred?" his deep tired voice rumbling in the air as he switched documents. Sounds of papers being moved around made Alfred frown for a second.

Always a messy man when it comes to papers, that's why he does everything in that blasted computer in the cave.

"Yes, Master Wayne," he cleared his throat before continuing.

"Dinner is ready but hasn't been served. The young masters can serve themselves while I go to the police station to pick up the young mistress."

Silence.

"...The police station?"

His tone remained the same. As if talking about the weather. It irked Alfred how his master didn't seem to react accordingly to the situation.

"Yes. Chief Gordon was the one to call. Said he found Lady (Y/N) wandering around by herself by Grant Park. Completely drenched and out of it. He mentioned she was getting checked by their doctor in case she got a concussion."

Master Bruce took a few moments to finally lift his gaze from the papers. Alfred had spent many years besides Bruce, but sometimes he couldn't place what his masters nonverbal actions meant.

Just like right now.

"...Bring her. I'll talk to her later." his gaze turned down once again.

Alfred nodded and left the office without another word until her reached the car. Once he closed the driver's door, he let out a very deep and exhausted sigh. He could feel the disappointment flowing up inside. It felt almost like failure. Failure for not being able to drag Bruce by the ear and make him drive to the station. For not having the audacity to scream at him for how he acts towards his own flesh and blood.

Anger at himself for not being able to do more for his young mistress.

As Alfred began to drive through the gates of the manor, he took notice of how the sky had turned already dark. But what stood out was the quick flash of green and silver striking in between the black clouds. It was gone in just a second, the loud rumbling of thunder almost making the car windows shake.

He couldn't help but feel like it was omen.

Good or bad, that was to be determined.

•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•═•

Author's note: First chapter done! Please reblog and like. Do let me know what you guys think of it and what theories come up to mind with all the hints I left around the chapter! Hopefully, next chapter will be up next sunday if college doesn't kick my ass lol. Lots of love! GG✨

Bonus Memes:

Rogue cultivator SY AU [ 1, 2, 3, 4 ]

Shen Yuan comes back to Cang Qiong Peaks after a year of travel for his research. Shen Qingqiu is excited until he finally sees him.

SQQ: What is THAT?

SY: I'm happy to see you too *beaming eagerly with badly grown beard and mustache* It is a year of my hard work. I wanted to show you it so badly *proudly touches his beard* Impressive, isn't it?

SQQ: You're getting rid of that immediately.

SY: Huh?

SQQ: I say, you have five minutes to get rid of that abomination yourself, or I'll do it. *drawing the sword*

SY: W-what? Wait! I can't do this, I spent so much time growing it, so it looks good!

SQQ: And clearly, you have failed. Shave it. NOW

SY: You're just jealous I did while you couldn't. I look manly!

SQQ: I just don't want to kiss Mu Qingfang twin. At least he saw the reason and shaved it off.

SY: He did?! Oh, no. Shidi lost his wings!

SQQ: A-Yuan, I'm starting counting. One-

SY: Okay-okay! Does it really look so bad? *mumbles*

SQQ: Yes. *gets closer and takes his chin in his hand* You'll look so much better without it. Believe me. *leaning closer as it to kiss him on lips, but in last moment bits his nose*

SY: AW! YOU-*tries to back off*

SQQ: After you do this, you'll recieve a welcome kiss. Understand? *pinches his cheek*

SY: Yes! Stop doing it!

In the background:

LBH: I'd kiss him anyways, with beard or not.

NYY: Ning Yingying thinks Shizun would too. But Shifu looks better without it. He just needs proper motivation.

MF: Obviously, Shizun doesn't want to repeat "Beardgrow remedy catastrophe," which happened half a year ago. *shudders*

LBH: Didn't you also-

MF: I don't recall anything of the sorts.

P.S: For a moment, Shen Jiu thought let it be. Maybe it would work better than weil, getting rid of potential flies flocking to honey. But they would see SY's smile anyway, the way he crinkles his eyes, a playfull glint in them, blush on his cheeks and-

It won't work.

(Star Wars au) How Noah found out Stiles left Naboo...

Noah:(thru comm) Stiles, where are you?

Stiles, on a ship that has left the planet's atmosphere with a Mandalorian that saved his life but also that he saved their life, helped them with tracking down their bounty and has somehow convinced to let him come with them: ...

Stiles: Who's Stiles?