Jason Todd isn't what Batman made him, he isn't what the Joker made him, he isn't what the League of Assassins made him, and he isn't what the Lazarus Pit made him. He's his own person and he's taking himself back, one home renovation at a time. Also he might just make friends with the people who are supposed to be his brothers while he's at it.

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?" "It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back.

And, well. He gets impatient when he’s already in pain. He’s still got fifteen minutes until the meeting is set to begin, and the chances of him slapping Mr. Smith-Harguson so hard that the man’s toupee flies off are rising exponentially by the second. Yeah, that settles it. He needs an excuse to get out of here, and he needs it fast. - for the prompt 'jason todd, lover of fake kidnappings, meets tim drake, lover of chaos', but it... got out of hand. happy pride