Jason Todd

Jason couldn’t understand why you did what you did.

Though, truthfully, that was being completely dishonest.

Jason understood perfectly why you had a FanCam— money problems, you were a delinquent, you flunked out of school —so on and so forth. That didn’t mean he had to like it, and he didn’t. He did everything in his power to discourage you, but it seemed that the more he hated it, the more you loved it.

If you needed money, he would give it to you, or if you needed a job, he could pull a few strings at Wayne Tower to get you one— but no. Every time he offered, you turned him down and stated you didn’t need the charity.

It infuriated him, so he took matters into his own hands. In public, he was disgusted, but in private? He was your biggest donor. Every time you posted? He’d get a notification. Every time you requested money from your fans? He’d be the first one sending it.

The amount didn’t matter— his adopted Father was a billionaire, after all —and it certainly didn’t dent his pockets given his nightly activities. Jason stalked your page religiously, even going so far as to hack into other accounts— just to make sure they didn’t do anything bad to you.

What you did was dangerous given your tattoos and piercings, all of which could easily be used to identify you. Still, Jason protected you even when you didn’t see it, and had half a mind to hack into your bank account and deposit money; to nip the problem in the bud despite your reservations about it.

“You’re still doing that?” There’s disgust laced in his voice as he eyes your phone, lips curled into something like a frown mixed with a sneer. The two of you were hanging out at your place, yet you were seemingly distracted by your FanCam.

You didn’t know that he was your biggest donor, and he wanted to keep it that way— but sometimes he felt like spilling his secret whenever he saw you engaging with the other fans. Wasn’t he enough of a donor for you? Why did you even need anyone else?

“That shit’ll catch up to you one day.” He grumbles, rolling his eyes as you scoffed out a laugh, and he can’t deny that he flusters a bit when you smile at him like that. Even when he was rude, it was like water washing off your back. You just rolled with the punches.