Soo @edmundpevensiesqueen I hope this one is a little better than the last one x3
This was originally meant for day 7 of “Jason Todd Week Summer 2025,” with the prompt “Identity Reveal | Amnesia | FREE PROMPT.”
A strange mix that ended up getting longer when I decided it would be a triad, lol.
At the same time, it split apart, came undone, and started demanding more context for a single situation. Just one... and after that I had too many POVs, flashbacks, and honestly, God help me, I no longer knew how to organize that mess.
While looking for a fragment to use for this, I realized how big the disaster actually was. I wanted them to meet first, so that later it would hurt more. I didn’t finish either version. I also didn’t know what to share from all of it, so here goes the only nicer fragment in all this drama.
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“What are you doing?”
Jason staggered back, startled by the voice. A man stood there, dressed in black and red, a large bat emblazoned across his chest. The lower half of his face was hidden by a mask, the cowl fitted tightly over his eyes.
A strange outfit for a bat.
Jason frowned, muscles tightening, ready to spring.
“Getting away from this prison. Can’t you see?”
The stranger moved through the tree branches with flawless agility, every shift fluid and precise, as if he had trained those movements his entire life. And Jason knew that couldn’t be true. That man hadn’t been there before, and Jason hadn’t been gone that long.
The masked man’s gaze tracked him as Jason dropped and rolled across the ground in an instinctive, practiced motion.
The man whistled, clapping slowly. “Nice move, kid.”
He extended his staff, fired a line toward the base of the tree, and descended with an irritating grace.
Jason clicked his tongue. “Show-off.”
The man let out a light laugh, tossing his hair back.
Wasn’t it too long? It looked like it needed a cut.
“I’m Crimson. And you must be Jason.” He leaned on the staff, tilting toward him with open amusement, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be resting in your room?”
Jason rolled his eyes. “A death curse isn’t going to stop me.”
The reaction was subtle, but Jason caught it: a shiver ran through Crimson, hard to hide.
Jason scoffed, a crooked smile pulling at his mouth.
“What’s wrong? Afraid of death?” He dragged his gaze over him, slow and dismissive. “You look healthy. Congrats. Now get out of my way.”
He turned, ready to bolt, when a Super dropped from the sky and landed a few meters away. The ground trembled beneath his boots.
He lifted a hand in a quick greeting as he stepped forward.
“Hi! I need to speak with Bruce right now.” His eyes moved from Jason to Crimson and back again, his expression tightening. “It’s urgent.”
An arm slipped around Jason’s shoulders, stopping him, and Crimson pulled him in with an easy smile.
“Of course, Superboy. We’ll take you to the big man.”
Jason blinked, trying to wrench free, but it was useless. He clenched his jaw, feeling an electric tingle crawl across his clothes. The bastard had him locked in some kind of electromagnetic field.
Now he was being dragged against his will by a bat he didn’t know and a Superboy who had nothing “boy” about him.
Did Superman have a copyright on the name, and that was why this guy couldn’t use it? Because he looked exactly like him… and the age matched too.
So why the hell was he still using the title “boy”?
Being free didn’t make it any less ridiculous if the one carrying it looked like a fully grown adult.
Jason looked away, ignoring the restrained laughter at his side. He couldn’t blame him. Damn it.
That perfect hair, the solid jaw, the controlled presence… it was tempting. And Jason wasn’t blind.
It would have been less embarrassing if the heat of Crimson’s arm hadn’t seeped through his clothes, pressing against his skin like a constant reminder of how close he was. Too close. Too comfortable. Too intimate.
He’d already survived adolescence—or whatever version of it he’d gotten—split between death, mental blackouts, and the Lazarus Pit. He could handle being surrounded by two attractive men without losing his mind.
And when the time came, he could also punch Bruce in the face. Just to bleed off some of the emotions tearing him apart from the inside.
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There’s a lot of context that isn’t explained. Jason lost his memory, regressing to when he was 21/22 years old, I think, while Tim and Kon are around 28/29.
It’s too much, and everything is very badly fragmented, but at least this fragment is fun 💖
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sketches and scribbles for chapter 3 of my jaytimkon fic, It's Only Weird If You Make It Weird!
In that moment, Kon’s brain is indeed broken. But at least his heart has a clue. In the words of that iconic French lobster, it tells him to KISS THE GIRL!
various Tims being tormented and emo, plus Kon getting fed up:
Afterwards, they curl on the couch together: Kon on one side, Jay on the other, Tim squished between. “You’re not going anywhere,” Kon tells him firmly.
duo and trio date scribbles below.......
Way to go, Superboy, forever jumping the gun. Yeah, they held hands during the movie, she kissed his cheek at the aquarium, he hugged her at the fair, but cuddling is obviously a step too far without—
"We’ll do them over. Right, Jay? And you guys can win me the biggest stuffed animals at the carnival, and Tim can tell us nerd shit at the aquarium, and we can take turns making out with him at the movies.”
the ot3! crying! 🙂↕️🙏💖🥰🫰(kon cries too i just didn't draw that part)
anyway these are for the last chapter of my [relatively] short jaytimkon fic, it's only weird if you make it weird. Tim is a wretched creature but they all get a happy ending 👍
It's Only Weird If You Make It Weird (So Stop Making It Weird!): chapter 2
When people hurt his friends, Kon lets them know exactly how well that shit flies. Not well. Very unwell, even. Positively sick, and not in the cool way.
But for some reason, maybe all the worry or stress, he joins Red Hood in the dark little alcove over the med bay and says, “Hey.”
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It's Only Weird If You Make It Weird (So Stop Making It Weird!)
Rating: T
Length: 11,400 words | 3 chapters
Ship: Tim Drake/Kon-El/Jason Todd
🔗 Read on AO3!
Red Hood is a girl now. But so what? Even magnificent dames can be evil, dork-ass losers. Kon really couldn't care (apart from keeping her far, far away from his Robin). But his Robin seems to care. A lot. As Tim works himself into weirder and weirder crises about Jay Todd, Kon starts wondering if there's more to the weirdness than meets the eye. And more to Jay, too.
“You’ve always said that guy’s a cringe-fail loser, right? So why do you suddenly care if that’s guy’s a girl?”
“Because!” Tim whirls around, his eyes bugging out. “I can’t say a girl is a loser! That’s—it’s—misogyny! It’s transmisogyny! It’s antifeminist and sexist and—mean!”
Kon has to think on that one for a bit. Is it really sexist just to call a girl a loser?
What if she’s a loser because she wears a mask under a full-face helmet sometimes? What if she’s a loser because she stashes so many knives in her boot that it fell off mid-grapple once? What if she’s a loser because Rob regularly catches her reciting poetry to herself, twice this year already? That’s sort of a gender neutral loser-ism, right?
