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occasionally subtle
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@cenna-luna
Welcome to my blog!!!
Hi! My name is Cenna and I write for whatever fandom I'm into at the moment. I'm 19 and my pronouns are She/Her. I'm awful at writing about myself. But below the cut is the fandoms I write for and a link to my masterlist.
🍷 The helmet stays on! ☆⋆ jason todd x reader drabble
a not-so-innocent old tweet of yours leads to jason confessing his secret identity to you. slightly spicier jason version cause i can’t help myself. this has suggestive elements ;) manspreading jason todd i think about him a lot ;]]]]
ᯓ𑣲 ❝ tweets cause drama ❞ dick grayson version .ᐟ
“I didn’t know you were into that.”
"Into what?" You ask as you walk between rooms of your shared apartment. Jason turns the screen towards you, and you pad to him, his wonder woman tshirt hanging loosely over your frame, your shorts not even visible as the hem hits mid-thigh.
You step between your boyfriend's knees as he's sprawled over the sofa that's sagging from the tall man's weight. He turns to the phone towards you and your eyebrows hit your hairline.
It was your twitter account, retweet you had made a long time ago, before you even met your beloved boyfriend.
The original tweet was a photo of Red Hood, a candid photo that he wasn't aware was being taken, right leather jacket stretched across his back as he leaned against his bike, signature red helmet. The original tweet also had the emoji with the tongue out. Then there was the text you added to your retweet.
The helmet stays on!
Hi! Could I request a So’lek x fem!Na’vi reader fic where So’lek tries to court the reader according to traditional Na’vi customs, but he’s absolutely terrible at romance?
Title:
What He Leaves Behind
Pairing: So’lek x fem!Na’vi Reader
Rating: Teen+ (soft romance, emotional intimacy)
Warning : Slow burn, tender awkwardness, moonlit forests, quiet devotion, protective instincts
The forest knows before you do.
It always does.
You feel it in the way the leaves hush when you pass, in the way the anemone-like tendrils curl inward at your approach, glowing softer as if listening. Pandora breathes around you, alive and aware, and tonight it carries something unfamiliar beneath its usual rhythm.
A presence.
You pause at the edge of the path leading to your marui, fingers tightening around the woven strap of your satchel. The moonlight filters through the canopy in pale ribbons, illuminating the home you built with your own hands curved branches bound with fiber, living leaves coaxed into shelter.
Something rests at the threshold.
You narrow your eyes.
It is not there when you leave in the mornings. You are certain of that. You are careful. Observant. And yet there it is now, placed just outside the woven entry screen as though it belongs.
A bundle.
You approach slowly, ears angling forward, tail flicking once in quiet alert. There is no scent of danger only the forest, resin and night-blooming flowers, and something else.
Him.
Your breath catches before you can stop it.
So’lek.
You do not see him, but you feel him the way you feel a storm before the thunder breaks. His presence lingers like a shadow pressed into the ground. He has been here recently. Close.
You kneel and carefully unfold the leaves wrapped around the bundle.
Inside: a string of beads.
They are hand-carved, each one slightly imperfect, smoothed lovingly rather than precisely. They glimmer faintly in the moonlight bone, shell, and polished seed, threaded together with strong, dark fiber.
Your fingers hover, then touch.
Warm.
Recently handled.
Your throat tightens.
So’lek is not a man of excess. Everything he owns has purpose. For him to give away bone carved bone means he hunted it himself. Cleaned it. Honored the animal. Took time he does not spare easily.
And left it here.
Without a word.
You straighten slowly, scanning the forest. “So’lek?” you call softly, voice barely more than a breath.
Only the leaves answer.
You exhale, equal parts disappointed and relieved, and gather the necklace into your palms. You should return it, you think. You should ask him why he left it here. Gifts unspoken are dangerous things among the People. They carry meaning whether you want them to or not.
And you do want to know.
You rise and step inside your marui, but sleep does not come easily.
It happens again three nights later.
This time it is food.
A cleanly wrapped portion of smoked hexapede, seasoned with mountain herbs you recognize from the upper cliffs places So’lek patrols alone. It is prepared carefully, reverently, with none of the haste of camp rations.
You stare at it for a long time.
So’lek does not cook for others.
The clan knows this. He eats what he must, when he must. Food is fuel. Survival. Not comfort.
Your chest aches with something unnamed.
You eat it slowly, deliberately, honoring the effort it took. When you finish, you sit in the doorway of your marui, knees drawn to your chest, and let the forest glow around you.
“So’lek,” you murmur into the night. “You cannot keep doing this.”
The forest, infuriatingly, keeps his secrets.
Others begin to notice.
“Someone has been visiting you,” a friend teases lightly as you weave baskets together near the communal fire. “You glow like you’ve been chosen by Eywa herself.”
You snort, ears flattening. “Do not say such things.”
But your gaze drifts, unbidden, to the far edge of the clearing.
So’lek stands apart from the others, as he always does.
Tall. Silent. Scarred.
The marks of war map his body old wounds, healed poorly, reminders of battles that ended but never truly left him. He watches the forest more than the People, back straight, hands resting loosely at his sides.
He does not look at you.
Not once.
And yet you feel him, like gravity.
That night, you find feathers.
Long, iridescent ones from a forest raptor cleaned meticulously, bound together with twine. They are rare. Difficult to collect without damaging them.
You swallow hard.
This is no accident.
This is courtship.
Clumsy. Silent. Incredibly earnest courtship.
Your heart thunders as realization settles into place.
So’lek is choosing you.
And he has no idea how to tell you.
You confront him three days later beneath the spirit tree’s outer roots, where the glow is soft and the air hums with quiet reverence.
“So’lek.”
He stops immediately.
Does not turn.
“Yes,” he answers after a beat, voice low and careful.
You step closer. “You have been leaving things at my marui.”
Silence stretches.
His shoulders tense.
“I did not mean to disturb you,” he says finally. “If it is unwanted, I will stop.”
That is not an answer.
You move until you can see his face. His eyes flick to you briefly, then away again, jaw tight.
“Why?” you ask gently.
Another pause.
His hands curl slightly, as if gripping a weapon that is no longer there.
“I am not skilled with words,” he says. “Or… softness.”
You soften despite yourself.
“I know.”
He swallows. “But I know how to provide. To protect. To choose.”
Your breath stutters.
“So’lek,” you whisper.
He finally looks at you then.
Really looks.
“I chose you,” he says, voice rough with something dangerously close to vulnerability. “If you would have me. If not ” He exhales sharply. “I will accept it. Quietly.”
The forest seems to hold its breath.
You step closer, close enough that you can feel his warmth, his restraint.
“You could have spoken to me,” you say.
He gives a small, almost pained huff of a laugh. “I would have failed.”
You smile, slow and tender.
“You are failing very beautifully.”
For the first time, something like hope flickers across his face.
So’lek does not touch you.
Not at first.
He stands close close enough that you can feel the heat of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the faint scent of smoke and forest clinging to his skin but his hands remain at his sides, fingers flexing like he is holding himself back by sheer will.
“I do not know what comes next,” he admits quietly.
The honesty in it startles you more than any grand declaration could have.
You tilt your head, studying him in the soft glow of the spirit tree’s roots. The scars along his arms catch the light old cuts, burn marks, healed fractures. Evidence of someone who learned survival long before tenderness.
“Then we learn,” you say. “Together.”
His eyes lift to yours again, slow and careful, like he is afraid the moment might shatter if he moves too quickly.
“You are not offended?” he asks.
You shake your head. “No. But I was confused. And… curious.”
A faint exhale escapes him. Relief, maybe. Or disbelief.
“I watched,” he confesses. “Before I chose the gifts.”
Your ears twitch. “Watched?”
He nods once. “You hum when you work. Softly. When you think no one hears.” His gaze flickers briefly to your throat. “You give the first portion of your meal to Eywa, even when you are alone. You repair what others discard.”
Your chest tightens.
“You noticed all that?”
“I notice what matters,” he says simply.
For a moment, neither of you speak. The forest pulses gently around you, bioluminescence breathing in slow waves, as if Eywa herself is listening.
“I would like to walk with you,” you say at last. “If you wish.”
So’lek hesitates just a fraction of a second then inclines his head. “Yes.”
From that night on, he walks you home.
Always a half-step behind. Always silent unless spoken to. Always alert.
At first, you think it coincidence.
Then you realize he times his patrols for when you finish your duties. You find him waiting at the edge of the clearing, leaning against a tree as if he has always been there.
He never says this is for you.
But it is.
When the forest grows restless one evening distant roars echoing through the canopy So’lek’s hand lifts instinctively, palm hovering just in front of you, a quiet barrier.
“Stay close,” he murmurs.
Your heart stutters.
You do.
The gifts continue, but now they change.
Smaller things. More personal.
A woven cord dyed in your clan colors.
A smooth stone etched with a protective symbol, warm from being carried against his skin.
Once, you find a single flower rare, night-blooming placed carefully in a shallow bowl of water so it will not wilt before you see it.
You bring it to him the next day.
“I want to keep them,” you tell him, holding the bowl between you. “But I need you to know… you do not have to leave them in silence anymore.”
He studies the flower, then you. His ears tilt back slightly, uncertainty written across his face.
“I do not wish to pressure you,” he says. “Or shame you, if you do not return my interest.”
You step closer. “So’lek. If I did not wish this, I would have said so.”
He searches your face, as if looking for signs of deception.
“I am slow,” he warns. “And not gentle with my past.”
“I am patient,” you reply. “And not afraid of scars.”
Something shifts in him then subtle, but profound. Like a door opening that has been shut for too long.
The clan begins to whisper.
You feel their eyes when So’lek sits near you at meals still apart, still reserved, but near. You feel it when he rises the moment you do, when his gaze tracks your movement without staring.
“You have caught the attention of a dangerous one,” a hunter jokes lightly.
You smile. “He is not dangerous.”
So’lek stiffens at that, jaw tightening.
Later, when you walk together beneath the glowing vines, he speaks again.
“They fear me,” he says flatly.
“They do not know you,” you counter.
“They know enough.”
You stop walking and turn to face him fully.
“Then let them learn.”
His breath catches, just barely.
“You would stand beside me?” he asks.
“Yes.”
The word feels powerful in your mouth.
He nods once, as if committing it to memory.
The night everything changes is quiet.
Too quiet.
The forest’s song dips low, insects falling silent as something large moves nearby. So’lek senses it before you do his body shifts, muscles coiling, hand lifting again in that same protective gesture.
“Behind me,” he orders softly.
A low growl echoes through the trees.
Your pulse spikes, but you obey without question.
The creature never reaches you.
So’lek moves like lightning controlled, precise, terrifyingly capable. When it retreats, wounded and snarling, he does not chase. He returns to you immediately, scanning you for injuries.
“Are you harmed?” he asks, urgency cracking his calm.
You shake your head, breath unsteady. “No. Thanks to you.”
His hands hover near your shoulders, unsure, then finally settle light, reverent.
The touch sends a shiver through you both.
“I will always protect you,” he says, voice low and fierce. “If you allow it.”
You place your hand over his. “I already do.”
The forest brightens around you, glow intensifying as if in approval.
For the first time, So’lek lets himself smile.
It is small. Uneven. Beautiful.
The first time you see So’lek bleed, it is not from battle.
It is from memory.
The two of you sit together beneath a canopy of woven leaves, the glow of distant spirit lights pulsing softly through the night. Rain hums gently against the forest floor, mist curling low around your ankles. It is the kind of night meant for closeness, for quiet truths.
So’lek sharpens his knife.
Slow. Methodical. Over and over again, as though the act itself keeps something inside him steady.
“You will ruin the edge if you keep at it,” you say lightly.
He pauses, then exhales. Sets the blade aside.
“Old habit,” he murmurs. “Hands need something to do.”
You study him for a moment, then reach out carefully, giving him time to pull away if he wants to.
He doesn’t.
Your fingers brush the scars along his forearm. Raised. Pale. Some jagged, others smooth with age.
“These are from before,” you say softly.
“Yes.”
“And these?” You trace a newer mark near his wrist.
A beat.
“After,” he answers.
Your chest tightens. “After the war.”
He nods once.
“I was not… good,” he says slowly, choosing each word like it might cut him if handled wrong. “Not gentle. Not patient. I survived because I learned to harden myself.”
You look at him then really look.
At the way he holds himself like a shield even now. At the tension coiled in his shoulders. At the fear buried beneath his stoicism.
“And you think that makes you unworthy,” you say.
His jaw tightens.
“I think it makes me dangerous to love.”
The honesty lands heavy between you.
“You are afraid you will break what you touch,” you murmur.
“Yes.”
Rain patters louder, as if the forest itself leans closer.
You take his hand.
Not hovering. Not hesitant.
Firm.
“You have never hurt me,” you say. “Not with your silence. Not with your protection. Not with your fear.”
His breath stutters.
“You leave gifts like offerings,” you continue. “You wait instead of taking. You ask permission even when instinct tells you to guard, to claim.”
You squeeze his hand. “That is not a monster, So’lek.”
His eyes burn bright in the low light.
“That is a man trying very hard to be good.”
For a long moment, he cannot speak.
Then quietly, almost broken “I wanted to be chosen.”
Your heart aches.
“You are.”
The next day, you choose him where others can see.
You sit beside him at the communal fire.
Not near.
Beside.
When someone questions it an arched brow, a curious glance you meet their gaze without flinching.
“So’lek walks with me,” you say simply.
No one argues.
He does not look at you right away. When he finally does, his expression is unreadable until you see the gratitude beneath it.
Later, beneath the glow of hanging seeds, he stops you.
“You did not have to do that,” he says.
“I wanted to,” you reply.
“You risked judgment.”
“I risk nothing by choosing truth.”
His throat works as he swallows.
“You are brave,” he says.
You smile. “So are you.”
That night, he brings no gift.
He brings himself.
He waits outside your marui, posture straight but uncertain, as though crossing this threshold feels more dangerous than any battlefield.
“I would like to stay,” he says. “If you allow it. Just to sit. To listen.”
You step aside, heart racing. “Come in.”
Inside, the glow is warm and soft, leaves casting gentle shadows across his features. He looks almost out of place this warrior surrounded by quiet, by comfort.
He sits across from you, hands resting on his knees.
“I do not know how to be… this,” he admits.
You reach out, touch his cheek.
“You are already doing it.”
He leans into your palm before he can stop himself.
The air between you tightens.
Slowly so slowly he lifts his hand, brushing his knuckles against your wrist in a silent question.
You nod.
His touch is reverent. Careful. As if you are something sacred.
Foreheads meet.
Breaths mingle.
For a heartbeat, you think he might kiss you.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he whispers, “Soon. When I am certain I will not hurt you.”
You smile, eyes stinging with emotion. “Soon.”
He leaves before dawn, but not before pressing his forehead to yours once more.
The forest glows brighter as he goes.
So’lek does not sleep that night.
Neither do you.
You feel him in the forest long after he leaves like a steady pulse beneath the ground, like a promise the world itself has accepted. The glow of the leaves seems brighter, warmer, as if Eywa has drawn closer to listen.
At dawn, you wake to quiet movement.
You do not reach for a weapon.
You already know.
“So’lek,” you murmur.
He pauses at the threshold, light spilling around his silhouette. He looks uncertain for the first time since you have known him stripped of armor, of distance, of excuses.
“I brought something,” he says.
You sit up, drawing the woven blanket around your shoulders. “Come in.”
He kneels before you, head bowed, and places a small bundle between you. This one is wrapped more carefully than any before, leaves layered with ritual precision.
“This is not a gift,” he says. “Not unless you accept it as such.”
You open it slowly.
Inside lies a necklace.
Not beads.
A tsaheylu cord, braided with dark fiber and pale thread two colors woven together. At its center rests a single carved token: a symbol of choosing, of shared path, of seen and returned.
Your breath catches.
“You made this,” you whisper.
“I remade it,” he corrects gently. “The first one was wrong. I rushed it. This one I took my time.”
Your hands tremble as you lift it.
“So’lek…” You swallow. “Do you understand what this means?”
“Yes,” he says quietly. “It means I am asking. With my whole self. Not hiding behind silence.”
He lifts his gaze to yours.
“I choose you as my mate,” he says. “If you will have me. Not because I am strong. Not because I can protect. But because I want to learn how to be gentle with you. Every day.”
Tears sting your eyes.
You reach forward, pressing your forehead to his.
“I choose you,” you say. “Not because you are unbroken. But because you try. Because you care. Because you leave pieces of your heart at my door.”
His breath shudders.
Slowly, reverently, he lifts the cord and drapes it around your neck. His fingers linger at your nape, brushing your queue without touching waiting.
You tilt your head.
Permission.
The moment his queue brushes yours, the forest answers.
Light blooms.
The hum of Eywa swells, glowing seeds drifting closer, circling you both in a quiet blessing. So’lek gasps softly not from fear, but from awe.
You connect.
Not rushed. Not overwhelming.
Warm. Whole.
When you part, his forehead remains against yours.
“I am yours,” he murmurs. “In all the ways that matter.”
You smile through tears. “And I am yours.”
He finally kisses you then.
Not hungry. Not claiming.
Just… honest.
A brush of lips, steady and sure, as if sealing something that has already been written into the roots of the world.
Later, beneath the glowing trees, the clan gathers not in ceremony, but in quiet acknowledgment. No one challenges it. No one questions it.
They see the way So’lek stands beside you now.
Not apart.
Beside.
That night, the forest sings louder than it ever has.
And for the first time since the war, So’lek sleeps without his weapons within reach one hand resting over yours, trusting the world to hold you both.
SILVER SPRINGS ( Jason Todd x fem!Reader ) PART 2
Summary: After the loss of your childhood crush and best friend, life takes a turn for the worst. You quit vigilante work and rot your days away. Until one day, you end up having to return to your old job on a spy mission to assist the Arkham Knight. A new villain that has one goal and one goal only, to kill the Batman.
Chapter Warnings: mentions of death and grieving as always, fighting, violence, yelling,
Word Count: 4.4K
Author's Note: This is a bit rushed <3 as you might know my sister gave birth so this came out a bit late. not proofread, so excuse my mistakes hope you enjoy!
OTHER CHAPTERS:
PART 1
__________
You slipped on your black and red cargo pants, fastening the belt around your waist. The outfit wasn't that bad. It was fitting for the militia.
Tomorrow was the first day of your new -temporary- life as a soldier to, maybe, the worst person ever. You had had your fair share of encounters with all sorts of villains these past few years.
You were familiar with almost everyone. The riddler, bane...
the joker...
You pulled down your shirt down to your stomach when you jumped at a sudden thud behind you. The door had been closed by non other than Dick again. He walked in with a pile of gear in his hands. Everything from technological elements to armory.
When your gaze met his, he looked down at you still holding the sides of your shirt, your back turned to him with a dumbfounded expression.
The two of you stared at each other before he put the stuff down. ''Relax, drama queen. I didn't see your tits.'' A scoff left your lips, straightening the black fabric once again out of annoyance and nervousness. Your hair was still damp from the shower you took a few minutes ago.
''Pardon me for being shocked, ever heard of knocking?'' you snapped.
He grabbed a watch from the pile, running his fingers over the metal. ''I knocked. I thought you had already changed. I'm sorry that was disrespectful of me.'' You glared up at him as he stepped closer, asking for your arm. You unwillingly gave him your wrist.
He fastened the cold metal strap against your skin. ''Oh great, another tracker?'' you mumbled.
A teasing smile formed on his face. ''Its a communication device. I figured you wouldn't want the ear-piece version after last time.''
He messed with the settings, tapping the screen with his finger. Once he was done, you reached for a dry towel to dry your ears. Dick went back to the pile, looking through the stuff.
Already annoyed that you hadn't heard the knock on the door, you grabbed your hearing aid and gently slid it in your damaged ear.
You turned to see him staring at you.
He looked away immediately, pretending to fold and unfold the pajamas he had brought you a moment ago. ''So... still using the aids huh?''
''Yeah Dick I'm practically deaf in one ear. I kind of have to use them to hear your sarcastic remarks.''
''Okay-- Wow-- I didn't mean to be insensitive. I just asked because didn't Doctor Alborn say--''
''That I might be able to restore my hearing? Yeah.'' you said simply. ''This is as good as it gets.''
Dick moved his hands to his hips, thinning his lips in a grimace. Just then, both of you heard a familiar voice.
''Noise-Induced Sensorineural Hearing Loss.''
Both of you looked up to see a familiar ginger wheel in.
Barbara Gordon.
''A transmitter in the right ear and a receiver in the left ear. Am I right?'' she said proudly.
''Barbara Gordon. On time as always!'' Dick said, leaning against the table. You immediately stepped forward and ran to Barbara, hugging her tightly.
''I missed you so much Babs.'' Her arms wrapped around yours.
''Missed you too.'' You felt her hand pat gently on your arm, chin resting on your shoulder. She suddenly pulled away.
''I have something you might enjoy.'' You pulled back, watching her take out a small purple box from her pocket. She gently left the box in your palms. ''Go on.'' Dick tilted his head watching as you opened the mysterious box.
Inside it was a pair of hearing aids, engraved on the inside with a small bat symbol. Barbara's mouth curved into a smile. ''I had some free time these past few years... Figured some bat tech would do you justice. Prototyped the CROS hearing aid system... that's what you use, right?''
You felt slight heat rise to your neck at the sweet gesture. ''Seriously Babs? I love you.'' you smiled widely, kissing her cheek.
You did use the CROS system.
But your aids had been through hell these past two years. You took out the old ones and put in the new.
''See? It's got an app too.'' She grabbed your phone, installing something swiftly with a USB and pressing the icon.
''You can turn it off, lower the percentage of your hearing without taking it off. Also, like all bat-tech you don't have to charge or use batteries. I figured your missions wouldn't allow routine checkups to happen as smoothly as you'd prefer.' She rolled her wheels to get a little closer. ''I also took out the com-link function. You have the watch to contact Bruce.''
You let out a sigh of relief. At least now you wouldn't constantly be paranoid about going deaf in the good ear too . ''That's perfect.''
''Small problem... you haven't exactly been around enough for me to test it.'' She cleared her throat. ''It's still a protype. I decided you could test it and update me during this mission.”
“You’re an angel.”
“See you on com.” She said with a smile, making her way back out of the room. “Hey—- once this is over let’s watch a movie together.”
“Like the old days?”
“Like the old days.”
“Without me—-???” Dick frowned, seeming extremely offended.
Barbara stopped at the door. “It’s a girls night Dick. Plus we always watch 'How to lose a guy in ten days' when you end up joining.”
“Hey— that movie is peak romance, okay?”
Barbara rolled her eyes, leaving through the door. She guided her wheelchair to the main living room.
“Did you give the device to her?”
She flinched almost jumping in her place when Bruce showed up from the shadows.
“Geez— you really have to stop doing that when you’re not in suit.” She said, looking up at the poor old man. He was standing there with his hands clasped together like a child.
“She took it and she seemed really happy. I still don’t get why you made me say it was my work. You spent days in the bat cave, hell- didn’t you spend hours looking through your dads old medical books?”
Bruce sighed, rubbing his hands down his face. “She hates me.”
A scoff left Barbara’s lips. “She hates the Joker. Not you.”
The taller man leaned against the table, silently thinking to himself. Barbara let out an annoyed exasperated groan before poking him. “Hey.” She said sternly.
“Lighten up. You’re even more depressing than usual. She’ll be fine. She just needs time.”
__________________
The moon had risen to the sky. Today, you were going to be sleeping in a bed you hadn’t touched in two years. You walked into the old room, flipping the light switch on and just admiring everything. The posters on the walls from music groups you had forgotten about and pictures of funny memories were all over the place. Your childhood plushies remained lonely yet not abandoned as you imagined Alfred had insistently taken care of them after your departure.
This wasn’t your only room. You had had multiple rooms growing up. Your first home was the one you left your parents behind in. Your second home was the one you shared with another vigilante… and your third, perhaps the realest home?
Was this place.
A relatively large bed sat in the middle of the room. You put down your bag which was ready for tomorrow and walked over to the right side, lying down gently on the mattress. You stared up at the glow in the dark stars you had stuck on the ceiling with the help of Jason years ago.
They didn’t glow as bright anymore.
You slowly closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a concentrated state.
…
About half an hour later Alfred walked in.
He grabbed an old fuzzy blanket and spread it open, making sure the length was adjusted to your height. His hand reached up, tucking you in and grabbing one of the old plushies from the other side of the bed. He adjusted the plushie between your arms and fixed a piece of hair that had fallen onto your eyes. Whispering a goodnight, he slowly walked out, closing the lights behind him.
____________
“y/n?”
….
“Y/n?
….
“Y/N L/N WAKE UP—-“
“OH MY GOD JUST SHUT UP ALREADY IM AWAKE YOU DUMB FU—-“ you sat up in the bed, one side of your face having taken the shape of your pillows. You were just in the middle of the best sleep you’ve ever had in these past two years.
Compared to the cheap mattress you had bought for your own apartment, your king sized bed here was… heaven.
Your eyes finally focused on the door, eyeing the… short kid? Standing there?
“What the fuck.” You mumbled, still barely awake.
“Uh—- okay. that’s just mean.” the kid scoffed, hands on his hips. You glanced down to his outfit and immediately your heart jumped to your throat.
The Robin Costume.
You looked the kid up and down, looking at his face, and then at the outfit. Just then, Dick walked out from behind him.
“Tim? Didn’t I tell you to not show up with that costume? What are you- trying to give her a heart attack?”
Tim crossed his arms with a frown, mumbling to himself before leaving. You looked up at Dick who just scoffed, pointing at your hair. “Damn.” He stepped forward ruffling it. “Your hair looks like a birds nest.”
You groaned, pulling away and burying your face into the pillow.
Dick patted your back. “C'mon birdie get the hell up it’s time for you to meet your new militia besties.”
__________________________________
The next few hours were intimating to say the least. Sure, you had done this whole spy, deny & fight thing before, but it had been two whole years since the last mission. And you weren’t as confident as before.
You had been dropped off at the training center with just a small bag containing the uniforms you were given, some underwear and pajamas… and a secret stash of weapons beneath the bag. You were walking straight into the lions den. Your real exam began moments after the first introduction.
The militia training facility was an old factory that had been revamped with beds, offices and training rooms.
Whoever this Arkham Knight was? His sponsorships had to be big. No rookie ends up with this much money after the first few missions... Not unless they robbed maybe twenty museums and a few banks. Not with todays economy.
You put your bag to your assigned room, getting ready for the day and putting on your mask. First few days of training were with the full militia armor. You sat in the line with the other rookies taking a second to look around.
… where the hell were the women?
You poked your head out of the line and really stared at the armed masked people around you.
Surely... you weren’t the only woman right..?
All the chatter died down as the doors swung open, revealing a six foot something man in mechanic armor. He walked in slowly, holding his arm behind his back with a manner that almost made you scoff. Sure his height was intimidating but what else was there to him? Just a man who looms down on people and probably has... platforms hidden inside those mechanic boots. At least that's what you told yourself for some sort of comfort.
Almost everyone in the room held their breaths and raised their heads as he stepped forward, walking past every soldier one by one and eyeing them up and down.
Before he reached you, you tilted your head and saw a woman behind him. Unmasked, gun in one hand poised and strong, with the other holding a paper & pen. Probably his assistant? You mentally took note of the situation.
Just as your head was tilted and you were looking at her— to be more specific the gun in her hand— trying to figure out what brand it was, because damn was it gorgeous... When you suddenly heard someone clear their throat in front of you. You stilled immediately. Lifting your head slowly and looking up at the Arkham Knight who didn't seem pleased.
Mask to mask, he leaned forward.
“Attention problems will not be tolerated in the upcoming trials.” You looked up a his mask, the tech lights reflecting off of your goggles.
Five seconds into the mission and you had already fucked something up. You kept your back straight, nodding. “Yes sir.”
He eyed you up and down before reaching the end of the line. He slowly stepped back next to the other woman. “Todays training is complex. Only three of you will make it onto the team.”
You mentally counted the people in the room.
Twenty.
“You will duel each other one by one in hand to hand combat. The top three will get the privilege of joining my team. And the rest will be sent home.”
You had to be one of the top three.
The Arkham knight scoffed, lifting his finger. “Now— the fights will end with either the winner knocking out the enemy, wounding him…” his eyes locked onto yours in the crowd. “or her, enough for them to not be able to move, or death.”
The tension in the room rose a hundred percent as you felt the other soldiers shift with nervousness. ''Anyone who isn't willing to die for the goal...'' The man pointed at the big metal doors. ''Can leave now.''
You watched as some thugs debated if this was worth the salary or not before a few stepped forward and actually took the leave. The commander watched with his arms crossed as only five people were left including you.
''Now that we have the weak out of the way....The rest of you? Get in line. You will be divided into teams of two. You will fight your opponents and as mentioned, the top three will get in the team. So I lied, fights will end when one of you has their back pressed against the floor.'
You walked over to the side as his assistant started scribbling down some notes on her notepad. She lifted the paper and showed it to him.
Perhaps it was the lack of facial expression thanks to his helmet, or the fact that his armor looked downright scary but you felt nervous. You glanced at the other four people. Two normal sized guys, one slightly skinny boy who looks like he'd be the first to get thrown out and one big guy. Who you were sure the Arkham Knight favored.
The commander kept talking with his assistant as you were left to get ready with the other men. You checked the sturdiness of your hair, ensuring it wouldn't be easy to tug on or have you dragged across the floor. You slightly adjusted the new hearing aid in your ear just to hear one of the men behind you scoff.
''They brought a deaf girl in the militia? Oh that's just messed up.'' your hand stilled before gently pulling away as you pretended not to hear them. You took off the extra weighed armor on your chest as the hand to hand combat uniform seemed to be pants, socks, mask and a shirt.
The assistant stepped forward holding out the papers. ''Y/N?''
You noticed the commander yank the paper out of the hands of the woman, glaring at it as if it had personally offended him. His eyes glazed the words over and over again before slamming it back into the woman's hands. Just then a man next to you shifted lower to whisper in your ear.
''Bet he had an ex girlfriend named Y/N.'' you thinned your lips at the absurd comment hoping deep down that wasn't the case. And if it was, that he wouldn't take his anger out on you.
Just then the Knight's head snapped up, looking at the man beside you. ''Excuse me?''
The man immediately straightened his back lowering his head guiltily.
''What the hell did you just say? You think this is funny?'' He stepped forward towering over the man. The man shut his mouth. ''No sir.''
The commander eyed him up and down before snapping at the two soldiers in official uniform behind him.
''Get him out of my sight.''
Your blood ran cold when the guards began to drag the man away despite his pleads to stay. He begged saying that he needed this job. You looked back up at the commander, who just rolled his head in aggravation.
The commander turned to look at you with a snap making you flinch internally. But he stepped around you, pointing at the taller more built man. ''You will be dueling with her.'' He then turned to the much bigger man. ''And you will be training with him.'' Everyone's eyes landed on the skinner man with a pause. Now that was just cruel.
''And before anyone says anything, I didn't pick this. She used a randomized picking wheel online. This is all your luck.''
The skinny guy nodded, and the trainings begun. In just a few minutes the man was slammed onto the ground and knocked out by the bigger dude. And it was your turn to fight.
You got up on the ring, preparing yourself to face the first guy. He was one of the more average looking ones. You straightened your back and held up your fists, preparing to attack the man. And bam! five seconds later, he made a step miscalculation slamming face first into the ground. Everyone in the room momentarily went silent as you just shrugged.
''What? He just tripped.''
And then the preparations for the last round began. The assistant stepped forward and cleared her throat. “The winner will take my place as his assistant for a week.” Your head immediately snapped up.
You needed to win this.
You got ready once again, trying not to be intimidated by the massive man in front of you. He stepped forward, shadow towering over you. He looked down, one eyebrow lifting. After a moment of eyeing you up and down, he then lowered his hands and took a polite step back.
“I give up.”
Silence filled the room as your shoulders dropped, in shock.
“What..?”
Even the Arkham Knight looked stunned, staring at the scenery in disbelief. The taller man hesitated for a second almost comically squirming in his place.
“I uhm… My mother raised me to never hit a woman.”
The silence continued as all of you watched in awe. The Knight’s assistant hummed in approval.
“At least he’s honest..?”
You glanced at the man and then the assistant before trying to theorize what kind of hilarious expression the Arkham Knight had to have under that mask of his.
Everyone stiffened as the Knight moved a hand to his temple, glaring up at the guy. “I get it you have personal rules but, what the fuck are you doing in my militia?”
“I was hoping this would be a fun opportunity. But sir, I cannot hit her. She looks like she’d fly out of the ring if I—-“
A gasp left your throat, at the audacity, as your head snapped in his direction. “Excuse me????”
He seemed stunned for a second, his tone trembling. “I uh—- no offense Miss—“
“All offense taken.” You stepped forward lifting one finger and poking his chest with every word.
Plan B. Fuck it.
“What is this huh??? What you just assume I, as a woman, am weak so you won’t even try to fight me? Do you realize how belittling that is?”
Not a single bone in your body thought that man was a misogynist. In fact he had such a respectful face and way of speaking that you were sure he wasn’t. However you weren’t going to win this fight and earn a spot in the militia because ‘you got lucky’ or because ‘the man fighting her said he couldn’t hit a woman.’ Prejudice like that would mark you as weak once you got in.
-Even if you had taken down a man prior to this.-
Rumors would spread and nobody would even know of that fact. They’d just know you as the girl that somehow made it onto the team.
The man stumbled back, stuttering his words nervously as you got all up in his personal space. “No—- Miss I—“ If he continued like that you were sure he’d crack.
“You what? You. What??? What am I not a worthy opponent? You think of little of me that you won’t even fight me?”
“it’s more of a respect thing—“
“Or are you too manly to be taken down by a woman? What is this stupid coping mechanism just hit me you coward!”
“But-“
“HIT ME”
“But I—-“
“I SAID HIT ME ALRE—“ he lifted his fist without looking, pressured into the action. Thankfully you saw it first, able to grab his hand and pull him down in his moment of weakness.
The guy stumbled forward, eyes wide in shock before your leg moved fast, sweeping him off of his feet. Bam, he was on his back in a second.
You sat up straight, as he looked up at you with wide eyes. A smile reached his lips despite the breath being knocked out of his lungs. You looked down at him with a curious expression. “Hah… that was really cool. Can you teach me how to do that—?”
You couldn't help but smile, what a guy.
“Enough. This isn’t kindergarten. Stand up.” The knight gestured throwing his hands in the air. The man got on his feet holding his back in pain. The Arkham Knight cleared his throat, crossing his arms.
“Both of you are in.” He said with an annoyed sigh, gosh what didn’t annoy this man?
“Technically that was a takedown… smart. But won’t save you in actual battle. Provoking the enemy is a stupid thing. Especially since we’re going to be dealing with the Batman. Most of the goons who get taken out by his hand are those who take time off of their duties to mock him in hopes of being recognized as a worthy opponent. I hope you won’t pull stunts like this to him too.”
Your lips turned into a frown under your mask, you were glad his was hiding the expression on his face. At least you wouldn’t face disappointment.
The man continued. “You will be put into training with the higherups. And you? Y/N. You will spend the weekend following my assistant around and learning how to be her. She’s going to be leaving the ranks soon. I need a replacement.”
You nodded. “You have nothing to worry about Sir I will be very efficie-“
He turned his head away and left the room mid sentence and you had no choice but to stand there, mouth wide open, fighting back the urge to grab the man and force him to listen to you. Your fists clenched behind your back as his assistant smiled apologetically.
______________________________
The floorboards creaked below you as you walked across the wood, reaching a bedroom with two beds. You didn’t have a roommate yet. You put down your bags, which were searched thoroughly, yet not thorough enough that you had snuck in a bunch of devices in mini hidden pockets of yours.
Hiding under the covers of your room you clicked the watch open and a hologram appeared.
“You have one new message.”
“Testing— testing!” Dick said on the other side of the camera, his face all up in the display. He got swatted to the side by Barbara who was sitting down in front of the computer. “You’re blocking the view dickhead.”
“Ugh… fine! Just making sure she doesn’t miss my face but whatever.”
Barbara snorted as Dick sat down next to her.
“Alright Y/N this is a tutorial video basically.”
“Underneath the watch is a small bat symbol, that’s where the tracker is. If you click the side of the watch twice, it’ll call Batman. If you click it once it’ll call me. Three times for Grayson. Got it?”
You nodded to nobody in particular since Barbara couldn’t actually see you and checked out the watch.
“Other people can call you. If you need help from anyone other than us three? Click it four times. You will hear a faint beep in your hearing aid whenever you receive a message or a call. I've made it so you can turn on the message reading function for emergencies where you can’t talk or move but you still need to hear the messages read out loud.”
“Update us daily. Don’t get found out.”
“And don’t die!” Dick said from the other side. Barbara rolled her eyes.
“And don’t die.” She repeated gently. The hologram disappeared, leaving you in the darkness of the bedroom once again.
You clicked the watch two times.
“CALLING… BATMAN…”
And then a new hologram appeared of Bruce in his signature cowel with… the city upside down behind him..?
“Woah— what the fuck? Are you dangling from somewhere? What happened—“
Bruce let out an exasperated sigh. “The riddler happened. I’ll explain later, how is the mission going?”
You thinned your lips deciding not to press further and nodded. “Well I got appointed as his assistant for two weeks.”
“That’s more progress then I expected. Good job.”
You tried to hide the smile on your lips and nodded. “Yeah uhm… that’s all. The guy is an asshole. Probably had an ex with the same name as me.”
“Ah. That sounds like trouble.”
…
“I hope he doesn’t hold grudges.”
Semi awkward silence aroused in the room as both of you kept silent. You cleared your throat.
“Anyways, that’s all. Mission report 1.”
“Thank you for the report. Stay safe ple—-“
You shut the phone in his face a bit too early, cursing as you pressed the buttons again. The hologram appeared once again.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to shut it in your face like that-“
“It’s fine Y/N. Stay safe. Please.” He said with a nod.
“You too. Don’t let the cowl fall off your head—“
“I won’t. Goodbye.”
You shut the call and rubbed your face with your hands, letting yourself take in the dark room you were in. Eventually you crawled back into the lonely sheets and rested your head against the pillow.
Tomorrow you’d finally begin training.
_______________
TAGLIST
@lettucel0ver
@not-aya
@sugacor3
@justyna4a
@fanggq
@poetry16
@kiikrrt
@jayybyy
@americaarse
@theangryrobin
keep it on | jason todd
filthy smut with some plot | spookylist | masterlist
Synopsis: Jason’s been telling her for weeks to avoid taking the alleyway shortcut on her way home from work. Alas, she doesn’t listen, and Jason, being the ever-caring boyfriend, follows her. To teach her a lesson, of course, he tries to scare her, but little does he know, she loooves a man in a mask.
a/n: This was more filthy than anything I’ve ever written (…and posted). I apologize (no, I don’t).
Jason Todd who doesn't touch you sexually for at least several months into your relationship. He tells you it's because he wants to take things slow
"I want to treat you like you deserve" he said
Jason Todd who gets sweaty palms and shaking hands when you're making out. He blames it on the lazarus pit
"Sorry" he rubs his palms against his jeans, "...side effect." He mumbles with embarrassment
Jason Todd who won't let you sit in his lap when you're kissing because he's already half hard the second your thigh touches his
"I want to be able to see you" he reasons
Jason Todd who brushes his thumbs over your nipples for the first time and thanks you with tears in his eyes. He'll deny the tears if you ever bring it up
"Thank you, thank you, thank you-" he whines "you're perfect, thank you for letting me touch you"
Jason Todd who feels like he needs to go back to church and pray to God for bringing you into his life the first time you do have sex
"Jesus Christ" he grunts "shit you feel so good"
Jason Todd who is only ever gentle with you and almost has an existential crisis when you ask him to choke you during sex
"Baby, what? No, I- these hands-...." He trails off when he sees the pout on your face and hears the whine in your voice
Jason Todd who feels like vomiting when he has his hand around your throat, slowly adding more pressure every time you tell him "harder Jay". His hands have blood on them, he doesn't want to stain you
"Like that?" "Is this okay?" "Am I hurting you?"
Jason Todd who feels like a monster when he gets turned on by the flutter of your eyes and the way you gasp against his palm
"What the fuck is wrong with me?" He thinks to himself as his stomach churns with arousal and shame
Jason Todd who, after you've gone to sleep that night, retches until his stomach empty and he's dry heaving
Part Two Here
jason todd loves bulking season. so much so its basically just a year round thing for him. partly due to his nighttime job. partly because he loves the way you look at him when he bulks up.
his muscles get thicker as his figure fills out more, scarred skin slightly taught and his v-line blends into his stomach. his hands are large, splaying over the small of your back when he grabs a cup from the cabinet.
the fabric of his shirt stretches at his shoulders and biceps, lifting at the stomach to reveal the thick hairs of his happy trail.
he’s naturally warmer too.
jason sleeps in his boxers and drapes himself over you. his warmth seeps into your skin as he murmurs sleepy nonsense in your ear.
it’s distractingly attractive. he scratches his soft abs in the morning when your brushing your teeth, the subtlest smirk sitting on his lips when you eye his body in the mirror.
he comes home late one night to you still up. your working on your laptop, listening to the sound of him climbing into the apartment before locking it.
his heavy boots thud through the apartment and the bedroom door is pushed open. you glance up for the briefest moment. and he’s standing there, kevlar armor stretched over his muscles, helmet in a gloveless hand with his glove pinched between his teeth. there’s a few scrapes and bruises on his face. his black hair sticks to his forehead, the white streak nearly hidden completely.
and he grins.
like he didn’t just come back from patrol in one of the most distracting ways he could. jason tosses his glove in his duffel back along with his helmet, stripping out of his armor until he’s in his boxers and crawling across the bed.
he smells like sandalwood, leather and iron, sweat clings to his skin as he moves your laptop out of the way, kissing you senseless with the night’s adrenaline still fresh on his skin.
@anotherumbranwitch for the biggest jason todd fan I know
You know what would be fun :)
If Bruce actually HAD a power - the power to have his consciousness and memories transported back in time into his younger self every time he dies (aka the edge of tomorrow thing). So all his planning, all his paranoia? It's because he has been there :) That did happen :) Clark is mad at him for not revealing the fact he has been hoarding kryptonite - meanwhile Bruce can't fall asleep, recalling the way Clark's hand felt as it punched through his guts. Hal is arguing with him again about how Bruce is being over prepared and pefectionist about his plans and how nothing will go wrong if he trusts his expertise for once! Meanwhile, Bruce remembers being stuck under debris for hours before eventually suffocating. Damian and Jason are annoyed about getting a lecture on proper protocol. It's fine, the mission went alright! Meanwhile, Bruce had to kill himself multiple times because one of them kept dying on the mission before he figured out how to deal with the situation.
If only people would start listening to him, so that these scenarios wouldn't repeat :]
Jason Todd calling you Ma.
Welcome to the Writing Lab
I wanted to make a discord for fanfiction writers to all come together and write about our favorite characters. This is a fairly new discord so I’m still working out all the kinks but please feel welcome to join and nerd out.
Here’s the link
Jason "I look like Bruce so much I even have his exact eyes" Todd
and
Bruce "I can't look at myself in the mirror anymore because I just see his face" Wayne
next to
Jason "just came out of the pit and my eyes are green" Todd
and
Bruce "that's not my baby boy anymore" Wayne
Workout Buddies <3
Jason would absolutely let you sit on his back while he does pushups. Or on his abs while he benches. Or on his shoulders while he squats, but that's more dangerous for you than him, given the way you almost knock your head on the ceiling each time he stands back up. But his favorite is just when you offer to hold his legs still while he does sit-ups. Because with each crunch, he's pressing a quick peck to your lips. And that motivates him like no other.
my "How 2 Start Reading Batman Comics" zine I debuted at MICE this year! it was soooo much fun to put together, especially for baby's first mini-zine. Printed, it's only 6 interior pages and about medium hand size.
reminder: this is written for people who genuinely have no idea where to start, and it's from the POV of someone (me) who managed to get into Batman this way!
Bruce & Tim after patrol
hii muack muack
Sunflowers and Stone
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Summary: Jason returns after being away for a few weeks, working on a case with Roy in Star City. When he comes home to an empty apartment, Jason soon learns where you go when he's not around. A place where his name has been memorialized in stone.
Word Count: 7K
Content Warnings: 18+, Explicit Sexual Content, mentions of death, graveyards, grief, and the handling of loss (you tell Jason how you processed his death), smut with feels, unprotected sex, established relationship, pet names galore, female!reader, no use of y/n, Jason is strong enough to carry you over his shoulder
A/N: I did not go into October expecting to come out of it being this obsessed with Jason Todd, but here we are...
Part of the Spooky Season Writing Challenge. — Day 29 Prompt: Sunflowers
Spooky Season Masterlist
The door shuts with a soft click behind him as Jason steps into your shared apartment. The first thing he notices is the faint scent of lemon and lavender from that natural cleaner you use to scrub the counters. The second thing he notices is how quiet the apartment is. Normally, when you're home, you'll have either music or the TV playing quietly in the background. He sets his duffel down on the floor and kicks off his boots before moving deeper into the apartment.
"Babe?" he calls, just to be sure. He's only met with more silence.
Maybe if he were a normal boyfriend with a normal job, his mind wouldn't immediately start jumping to the worst conclusions, but he's neither of those things. He immediately starts scanning the apartment for clues, like it's a crime scene. There's no sign of forced entry; he would have noticed if something was wrong with the door. The windows are all shut, blinds drawn. You probably weren't taken, which still doesn't bring him much relief.
𖥔 ✴️ . ノ His brothers like to crash at your place . . .
with JASON TODD ◜ content ⸝⸝ short n' sweet . i didn't mention the girls :( ! ୧ head empty just batfamily ♡
It's quiet when you both turn in to sleep ― warm, comfortable ... shielded from the filth of Gotham. His heavy duty and your deep-rooted fears, far from your guys mind. Your face is turned towards his, head nestled comfortably under his chin, and ... Jason breathes softly, in n' out ... It's calm ... quiet ... Maybe even a little too quiet ? You hear the faint noise of the city below your apartment complex and all the way down the streets. Traffic, sirens ― it's all a familiar sound that would usually lull you right to sleep. Even the light rumbling of your partners' chest ― not quite snoring, but something close ― normally has you knocked out in under five minutes. But ...
The doorbell. It's a sharp tone in the otherwise silent apartment, that has your eyes wide open again, and Jason on his last nerve. You hear him sigh. Annoyed, yes, but also in a way that tells you ― he has an idea of who that might be. It's still dark, and you can barely see just what he's really doing, but you feel how he peels his side of the blanket away, muttering something like 'jus' sleep, i'll check' which is barely audible by how sleep drunken he sounds. Then, he's already out of the bedroom, lazily walking towards the door, already dreading which bat will greet him at such an hour ...
When he finally opens it, it's ... Richard Grayson, grinning. The sight has another heavy sigh escape him. "Yeah?" Jason liked to pretend that it was unusual for his brothers to show up ― which it wasn't. He also liked to pretend that he never lets them stay ― but he does. And it ― embarrassingly so ― never even takes that long to convince him. When asked, though, Jason claims it's because he rather gets right back to sleep than argue with any of his brothers.
Everyone believes him. Not.
So, Jason just steps aside and lets a much too triumphal looking Dick crash on the couch.
You hear them talk, hushed, comfortable, and soon enough, Jason is back in your bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him as he crawls back to you and underneath the sheets. "S' he okay?" You ask softly, shifting back into your previous position, flush against his chest as you breathe out, content. You're used to Richard coming over and crashing, so you're more concerned on why. Wouldn't be the first time he came over bloodied and beaten, much more eager to let you patch him up than have the batman give him a lecture. "He's fine. Will be gone in the morning."
'He doesn't want to deal with Bruce today' is what he wants to say, but he doesn't want his father to be the last thing he thinks about before going back to sleep. So he just presses a kiss against your forehead and tells you to go back to sleep.
You do, for maybe a minute, then there's a loud crash somewhere, and you're obviously wide awake again. This time, Jason doesn't even pretend to 'go check' because it's one of two people ― and he has this vague idea that it must be Tim, by how stupid his landing was. Probably came through the wrong window and fell right into that new Vase you bought.
Great.
You quietly follow behind when he leaves the bedroom again. You carry a blanket and a smaller pillow that you know is more comfortable than whatever pillows you keep in the living room, handing both to a drowsy Dick when he opens one eye ― not even bothering to check what caused such a loud noise in your guys' apartment. He just thanks you, turns around and goes right back to snoring. It's sweet, you think, how he feels more at ease here, than the large Mansion of his father...
"Go home, Tim," You hear your boyfriend mutter and follow his voice to the kitchen. His brows are furrowed as he watches the boy ― still glad in his suit ― try and puzzle the vase back together. "It's fine, we'll clean it tomorrow..." you find yourself saying, offering the kid a reassuring smile when he sheepishly lets it all fall back together. You know why he's here ― Jason knows too... and it goes without saying that he, too, is always allowed to stay. Even when Jay plays the annoyed older brother, grumbling and huffing when you show Tim the foldable sofa in your bedroom ( the one you guys bought specifically for nights like this ... )
He gets the last spare blanket, and a pillow, and he's good to go, bright smile and rosy cheeks when he thanks you so genuinely, you almost tear up a little. Your boyfriend grunts something about it being 'the last damn time' and Tim just nods. It won't be the last time. Jason acts like his brothers are intruding ― you know better.
Then everything slowly settles. It gets quiet again, there is the occasional shifting of blankets and pillows ― but, everyone seems asleep. Jason is cuddled against you, you can hear the faint snoring of Dick, and even Tim smacks his lips in deep content.
Yet, you can't help but feel like something is still not right. And like the universe agrees with you because ― of course, someone is still missing ― you hear the noise of your window being shoved open, with careful, skillful little hands... and soon enough, a smaller body wedges itself right between you and Jason as if it belongs. You don't say anything, and neither does he ― Damian Wayne fits right in the middle, barely three apples, yet he gets comfortable as if he owns the place. And you know Jason is rolling his eyes, deeply annoyed and beyond done with having so many siblings seeking him out when he just wants to spend time at his apartment with his partner. But even he is quiet and settles easy, his arm lazily thrown over his youngest brother and you, shifting the blanket so that all three of you are warm.
It's the sounds of a full apartment that finally lets you find comfortable sleep ― the warmth of two bodies right next to you ( of which the smaller keeps his hand laced with yours, as if you would ever even dare leave during the night ).
When morning comes, your sofa is empty, the vase glued back together and one demon child can't even look at you because he knows you're aware he's been clinging. He's embarrassed, you ruffle his hair, and together with Jason you bring him back to the Manor. You know it won't be the last time... and you honestly don't mind.
someone take " ... " away from me / i wrote this for myself honestly ―
