genderwretched



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    “Jaybird!” Dick yells as soon as he pulls the double doors open, and Jason can see the trail of little ducklings behind him.

    Duke, Steph, Cass, and Tim are in a neat line behind Dick, and they all look miserable. They’re all wearing pajamas, each with their own tissue box. Damian is standing apart from them with his arms crossed, and Alfred The Cat is perched precariously on his shoulder, but the illusion of an upset healthy prepubescent teenager is very obviously ruined by a very red nose, and the pale pallor of his normally deep tan.

    Dick is the only one who doesn’t look miserable, and Jason laments his own health and simultaneously curses Dick’s extremely abysmal culinary abilities and prowess.

    Jason has no words. He wants to step back, away from the sick children. He wants to go back to his germ-free apartment and watch the newest episode of Great British Bake Off with Roy.

    He takes a step back.

    Or, wherein Tim got his spleen taken by Ra's like in canon but little does everyone know that Jason had sold his spleen when he was a kid to try and get Catherine into rehab (and she still died of a drug overdose.)

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    03 Aug 2025

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    A Disclaimer From Your Friendly Neighborhood Oracle:

    The following is a transcript of Patrol Communications Audio written by state of the art transcription technology, IRIS (Interpretation of Recorded Intelligence Software). IRIS was created to provide easily searchable records, automatically, and eliminate the need to transcribe each patrol audio log manually. That being said, IRIS is still experimental, and may not always be entirely accurate.
    -
    (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin-

    Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood-

    Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious.

    Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route-

    Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up.

    Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

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    31 Jul 2025

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    Flying back to Cherry Street, weaving reckless in the dark, it comes down to this: Dick is the only one of his siblings that Jason has any real claim on. Dick is the only one of that whole mess of victims to Batman's cult of self-immolation who belongs to Jason. Even more than that - Dick is the only person in the world who he shares a parent with, who knows what it meant to be the Robin to Batman of nearly ten years ago.

    It's just not the same anymore.

    So if Dick fucking kicks it, Jason's the only one left. Jason becomes an only child. Jason becomes the last of his kind. Jason becomes the sole keeper of that memory, of a brotherhood shared under a man who no longer exists. There is no way to replace Dick, because the world that they lived in together is gone, and can never give Jason a surrogate.

    The Red Hood pulls the thread on a mystery big enough to bridge the distance between two cities, two brothers: The plot they unravel is far deeper and darker than a garden-variety drug trafficking scheme. A story about siblingship, hauntings, and rivers.

    1. Ostium, osti(i): Latin noun, II Declension: Door, opening; (river) mouth; entrance (to the underworld).

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    30 Jul 2025

  4. Public Bookmark 97

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    A flash of something pink and shiny catches Jason’s eye, crunched in an aluminum ball and stuffed in the camper's door handle.

    Oh shit.

    “Wing, what does that wrapper say?”

    “Why?” Dick drawls over the engine's death rattle, barely glancing up from his Twitter feed.

    “Just read the fucking packaging,” Jason snaps back.

    “Nerd’s Rope, 400 milligr- Jason did you give me a fucking edible?”
    ____________________________________

    In which the Red Hood attempts a union bust, suffers from Biblical road rage, smuggles drugs over the U.S-Mexico border, and cusses out Richard Nixon. Order of events not specified.

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    27 Jul 2025

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    Based on a post by @glitter-stained on tumblr.

    “I was…a different person then.” The modulator on his voice made it hard to identify his tone but he sounded almost hurt, longing for something gone. “Not,” he gestured to himself, “but that doesn’t matter.” His tone steeled, “That person, that name is dead. And no one can take this from me. Not even him.”

    Nadia felt as the meaning of his words washed over them all at the same time. She met Alex’s eyes as they all came to the same conclusion. Oh, Bossman in trans.

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    27 Jul 2025