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[saltofmercury]

omg, i'm imagining price (country roads) getting jealous - how would he react, i'm curious

hmm depends on the situation. if another man approached his wife, he'd probably start by just watching from a distance (imagine him leaning against a counter, watching intently with an eyebrow cocked, thinking "can't nobody see the big ass ring on her finger?") before he'd finally walk on over and just tuck an arm around your waist before casually entering the conversation. it's a very lowkey possessiveness, like very casual, almost imperceptible. but the signs would all be there - the possessive hold, hard eyes, stiff smile, standing at full height by her side.

then later on at home, he asks, "what do i have to do to make my claim more obvious?" and you wind up flat on your back while he pumps a load between your thighs because he reasons that the men in this town won't let up until you've got a little waddle to your step and a bun in the oven.

[saltofmercury]

Drunken persistence

a jason todd ficlet.

(GN!S/O)

Summary: After a night out drinking with Richard, Jason has a few questions for you.

Warnings: Consumption of alcohol.

A/N: Cute or cringe? You can decide that for yourself.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

“Psst.”

An outcry for attention fills the room. You wilfully ignore it, focussing on the blinking curser, hoping to find a working rhythm amidst his noisy presence.

A mere minute passes and then,

“Psst.”

Sighing loudly, you blink dramatically before facing the source of your disruption.

Lying at the foot of the bed, is Jason, inebriated. Mimicking an eager and energetic puppy, he flops around at intervals of seconds.

“Yes, Jason?”

Turning with great struggle, he lies facing in your direction, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

In his drunken daze, the words come out slurred and at his petty inquisition, you find laughter bubbling within you.

Clearing your throat, you feign seriousness, “I think you’re the prettiest.”

A smile breaks out onto his face, wide and toothy. Content with your answer, he closes his eyes, nuzzling further into the warm comforter.

His contention breaks as soon as it arrives; eyes opening once more, he furrows his eyebrows. Gaze piercing, he stares at you with all the determination he can muster and further questions you, “Prettier than Dick?”

His tone is innocent, almost childlike and at the sound, you cannot help but pout in giddy amusement.

“What happened at the bar?” you already know but you would like to hear it recalled in his alcohol infused rage.

The ladies love Richard Grayson.

Crossing his arms, he frowns. Flipping to stare at the ceiling, he begins mocking his brother’s plethora of admirers with an animated shake of his head, “Oh, Richard, you’re so funny. Oh, Richard, you’re so tall. Oh, Richard, you’re so pretty.”

At the juvenile imitation, you can no longer hold in the laughter as it escapes the trembling cages of your lips. The joyous giggles flood the room, bouncing off the walls and he narrows his eyes, gaze reaching you; threatening and fierce, pushing you to justify yourself.

Silencing yourself immediately, you humour the man-child, “Dick?” waving your hand to indicate dismissal, you conjure a mock sour expression, “He’s got nothing on you. They were all probably too intimidated by you cause, you know, you’re so, umm, pretty.”

You snicker, he does not notice. His frown transforms into a smile, his brows straighten out and the worry lines dissipate. Satisfied with your words, he hums in agreement.

Letting the room embrace quietude, you finally pay mind to your abandoned laptop. Allowing the peace to guide you, your fingers move with diligent ease. As you work, Jason slithers closer towards you but you write it off as him simply tiring himself out.

It is only a matter of time before he begins his pestering once more.

Reaching his desired destination, he looks up at you with big, doe like eyes. Slowly moving his index finger, he begins poking you in the arm, only allowing a small moment of quietness before speaking up again, “Psst.”

Sighing, he is unavoidable, you think.

“Can I help you?”

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?”

Oh, dear god.

>───⇌••⇋───<

[saltofmercury]

Marriage (and absurdity)

a jason todd ficlet

(GN!S/O)

Summary: Bored and out of place, Jason decides to play a wholesome prank during your anniversary dinner.

Warnings: none!

A/N: All foreign terms were obtained from Google. My apologies if anything is incorrect.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Sitting across from Jason, you watch him, gaze laced with sheer intensity. The dim yellow light encapsulates his beauty and as the hues encircle him, the crowd blurs, turning the other diners into mere shadowy figures.

Your eyes are meant to focus solely on him, for he takes precedence.

Clad in a black suit, he exudes discomfort. Fidgeting with his sleek tie, he eyes the menu in complete befuddlement. Still, even out of place, elegance bows to him and charm swivels dutifully around him.

Stifling your laughter, you capture his gaze, a teasing spark twinkling amidst the oceans of blue, “We really don’t belong here, huh?”

“The appetisers are half our rent,” he states as a matter of fact.

“Amuse-Bouche,” you correct, putting on an exaggerated French accent.

Quirking a brow, Jason deadpans, “Gesundheit.”

“Thank you,” you mimic his expression. Reaching over to give his idle hand a squeeze, you relent, “Come on, Jay, we never do anything like this. It’s our anniversary, at least try to enjoy it. For me, please?”

Sighing, he nods, “Alright, but if I die from food poisoning it’s on you.”

Holding your hands up, you flash him an elated grin, “I’m willing to bear the consequences.”

Your happiness is infectious and at the sight of your upturned lips, he finds himself smiling too. Suffocating knot forgotten, he is trapped in a love fuelled daze.

Signalling the waiter over, you both prep yourselves to order.

Standing upright, he is poised. Expression neutral, a certain strictness housing in his eyes. An aura of ambiguity, you both find yourselves pleasantly intimidated.

“Good Evening, I am Marcel. I will be your server for the night. What can I get for you, Sir?”

Reciting a rehearsed script, he is bored.

“Umm, I’ll have the, uh, no.42,” Jason says, scratching his head as he assesses the menu.

Raising his eyebrow in question, Marcel confirms, “The Coq au vin, Sir?”

Cracking a smirk, Jason pesters the poor server, “Yup, no.42.”

Judgement evident, Marcel turns towards you, “And for you?”

Clearing your throat, you swallow your laughter. Feigning seriousness, you answer through a cracked voice, “I’ll have the same, please.”

Writing it down, he addresses you both, “Right, your order will arrive in 20 minutes. If I can assist you with anything else in the mean time do let me know.” Before you can offer so much as a fleeting thank you, he tethers towards the bustling kitchen.

“Couldn’t pronounce it could you?” you smirk.

“Not a clue,” Jason huffs.

Laughing, you grab a hold of his hand once more, “Thank you, you know. I’m aware this isn’t exactly your style but I appreciate you doing this for me.”

Running his thumb over your knuckles, he offers you a softened stare, “Don’t. I’m enjoying myself. I always do, with you.”

Gazes locked, the crowd fades away and welcomes you, a cloud of romantic solitude. He feels the ring resting snug on your third finger, and at the diamond lightly pinching his skin, he is reminded of the gloriousness that is now his life.

“I love you,” he whispers.

Chest heavy, flooded in gratitude, you reply, “And, I you.”

Suddenly, he pulls away and you gape, perplexed, “What’re-“

But you’re interrupted by the scraping of his chair against the black tiled floor. Clearing his throat, he steps around the table towards you, all while capturing the attention of the other diners.

“You, my darling, hold my heart in the palm of your hands. You have it captured, and it is yours to keep for the rest of eternity and after. All I wonder is if you would keep mine?”

Like a true poet, he beguiles.

The strangers watch you, impressed and enthralled. You sit, baffled under their eager stares.

Pulling out a ring, your ring, he proclaims, “Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

Eyes dropping to your hand immediately, you gasp at the sight of your nude finger. Through clenched teeth, you quietly yell, “You freaking con artist!”

And at your words, all he can do is smile. Smug and proud.

A few beats pass before an impatient viewer shouts, “Well, don’t leave the man hanging.” Embarrassment rests a hand on your shoulder as Jason shrugs in your direction, “You heard the guy.”

Nodding in defeat, you smile, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, you big goof.”

Sliding the ring onto your finger, he jumps up to hug you. The crowd erupts into a joyous applaud, singing their hearty congratulations and from the corner of your eye, you spot a mouthwatering chocolate delight coming your way.

Realisation hits.

Pulling you close, he presses a kiss to your forehead. Leaning towards his ear, you whisper to him, “You did this for the free food, didn’t you?”

Smiling at the mesmerised strangers, he whispers back, “Absolutely.”

>───⇌••⇋───<

[saltofmercury]

Harrow

A Jason Todd Fic.

(Fem!S/O)

Summary: It is from the small gestures, he realises it is okay to let go of what once broke and embrace, self healing.

Warnings: Slight angst. Reference to being kidnapped. Description of Jason’s torture and death. Feelings of anxiety. Mention of injuries and bruises. Swearing.

Word count: 3k

Note: Flashbacks/ Jason’s memories are italicised.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Governed by paranoia, nocturnality casts a shadow over Gotham.

Drenched in harrowed darkness, deviants linger in the streets. Crouching in narrow corners, they wait with a sadistic smile and then, they strike.

Their laughter echoes in the tainted atmosphere, malignancy flowing amidst the twisted cadence.

It haunts him.

Flooding the barricades of his mind, the sounds play to no seeming end. A raging fire reducing his stability to embers.

It robs him from the cradle of slumber. Eyes wide in distraught, they remain etched on the blank ceiling. Their reminder omits tendrils, grasping at his wrists, he is rendered motionless.

Forced to envision his endless demise.

Two scars, an opening of skin, from one end to another. Crimson red, a mixture of blood and paint.

“You wanna know how I got these scars?”

In response, Jason had learned to embrace quietude.

The answer was never stagnant, changing with every beat of time.

“My father, was a drinker, and a fiend. And one night, he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn't like that. Not. One. Bit. So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. He turns to me and says, "Why so serious?" Comes at me with the knife. "WHY SO SERIOUS?" He sticks the blade in my mouth.”

With every word, he drew closer. His knife drew closer. A maniacal look in his eyes, he was drowning in hysterics.

Jason kept his head bowed; avoidance his strategy. Fear infested, he found himself incapable of escape.

The gesture left him unsatisfied. Knife placed under his chin, he nudged his head up to meet his dazed line of sight.

“Come on, Jason, why so serious!” he seethed.

He had stumbled near, Jason could feel his breath. Warm, intoxicated. He wanted to move away, the nooses held him still.

Gashes on his skin, his suit ripped. He seemed to have bled all his body offered and now, he was tired.

“Tell me, Jason, where is your father? Hmm. Where is the bat? Where is your hero?”

He hummed, like a songbird. Circled him like prey and him, the predator.

“Batman…”

Jason grunted, every thrash accompanied by a panting breath. Eyes shut, he held back tears elicited from betrayal. Heart beating rampant, he moaned in distress. Moving, he stretched his wounds.

Pain, a welcomed distraction.

“Batman isn’t coming to save you, Jason.”

He laughed. Loud and brazen. A crowbar in his hand, his hits registered repetitive. The sound of metal against skin filtered through the abandoned dwelling.

No one else around to see.

No one else around to hear.

No one else to save him.

Jason fell forward. His chair broke into a myriad of wooden pieces, splintering his skin. His iron burned cheek rubbed against cement, the “J” certified permanent.

Eyes closed as the will of fight dissipated, with a melancholic smile, he went.

His past plays in an endless motion and sleep, evades him. He finds himself wishing to escape, just for a minuscule moment, the burden he bears.

Eyes open wide, he watches the night sky. The moon casts a warm glow, illuminating the room subtly and for which, he is grateful, the invisible darkness no longer a friend. He counts the stars, noting their silver sheen against the blue atmosphere.

It is all a futile attempt at distraction. Mind inescapable, his heart remains heavy.

A warm hand on his flushed chest reels him back. Blinking, his irises burn. The audio in his mind slowly fades and in its stead, encases him, the noise of reality.

The whirring of the ceiling fan. The distant honking of cars on the street. The occasional thud from the upstairs apartment.

The sound of her breathing.

An ethereal one, it slows the pace of his heart. Let’s it embrace normality.

He shifts and watches her hand slide off, only to gracefully land on his right bicep. He finds himself studying her: the curl of her lashes, the slope of her nose, the bow of her lips, how they part to release little breaths of air.

A little closer and he can smell the remnants of her perfume. Floral, familiar.

It hits, all in one go.

He should not be here. He should not be alive.

But perhaps, it is amidst her presence, where he is meant to reside, till his very next end.

✦ ✧

Morning comes, and with it, new betrayals.

Studying his reflection in the hazy mirror, a feeling of discontent settles within. Heavy on his chest, it imitates suffocation.

His lock of hair, once brown, now slyly transfiguring into a petrifying white. Encased in horrific reminiscence, it evokes past traumas.

Jason hates it.

Standing in the doorway, he feels her gaze; intense, understanding.

“Time for a re-dye?” she asks, in that soft tone of hers. Never a hint of judgment prevalent between the words.

He bows his head, eyes discouraged from meeting her own. Cowardice rests a hand on his shoulder and closely behind, trails sheer embarrassment.

“Yes,” he whispers, in a voice so broken and dejected.

Head still bowed, sight still hidden, she sees it all in the clench of his fists. Knuckles bared white, they hold the weight of his emotions.

Silent, she works around him with ease. Gathering supplies, she allows him the time to recuperate, never one to disrupt until his permission lays evident.

Plastic gloves on, she gestures for him to sit on the closed lidded toilet. He follows her instructions, voiceless, without question, like a soldier. It worries her, holds the blade right at her throat but she embraces faux composure, for it is what he needs, from her.

With a featherlight touch , she pushes his chin upwards. She displays a smile, only to note his eyes stare right past her. Distant and dazed. He cannot seem to escape the wrath of a once known mad man.

Applying the colour with slow, careful strokes, she quietly speaks, “It’s okay to change the things that remind you of the bad times.”

Finally, his gaze lands on hers.

“Am I not just running?” so innocent, replicating a lost child’s, one simply yearning to find his way.

She stops, and shakes her head, “No. To me, you’re choosing to move on.”

Slowly, the feeling of suffocation begins to dissipate. Gradually the nausea within the pit of his stomach comes to settle, and he finds the shadow of cowardice crouch away from his drained body. He lets her words sink in and assigns to them, precedence.

Putting the supplies away, she leans to place a kiss onto his warm forehead, “15 minutes, Angel.”

Heart beat rising, he seems to have lost all words.

“I-” a breathy stutter, he struggles to speak.

It is too much. It is all too much.

She knows.

Getting up, she discards the gloves, “I’ll come back to wash it out for you.”

Turning her back to him, she gives him the time he requires. Time to understand it is okay.

Watching her, he feels his heart clench. “Thank you,” he whispers, barely there.

She hears it. With a small upward curl of her lips, she halts. She does not turn, but offers the consolation he seldom seeks, “Anything for you.”

It is not easy to recover.

But perhaps, it is with her, that he can overcome the barriers.

✦ ✧

Hand tightly clasped around the withered handle, he hammers the nail into the plank of wood. Battering hard, the hits are loud. They silence the vile imagery of his mind. With their noise, they sprout temporary peace.

His grasp remains taut, fearful that if he let go, the internal quietude would come barrelling.

Knuckles stretching against the leather handle, his bruises incite ache. A deep throbbing beneath his torn skin.

Every nights game.

He would fight, bare his skin black and blue and for those moments, he felt the pain of the past be replaced with joyous satisfaction.

If he were to come back, Jason would win.

“Having fun?” she quips, moving towards him with a tray of cold drinks.

Smiling, he drops the hammer and hesitantly, he thanks the quiet still looming around his head.

It always seems to be amidst her closeness.

“Oh, yeah, it’s great- heats kicking my ass, though,” standing up, he wipes the precipitation of his forehead. Moving towards her, he takes the glass and drinks with huge gulps, once done, he thanks her with a quick peck against her cheek.

Setting the tray on the porch swing, she stands in front of him, raking her fingers through his hair, she moves them away from his eyes, ignorant towards the sweat.

“You know, you can do this at a later time. It’s definitely not worth you getting a heat stroke,” frowning, she mothers him.

Let the world be damned, it is only Jason she will always remain concerned for.

Heart softening at her care, he beams at her, “It’s alright, doll. Think I’ve got it, the step shouldn’t be bothering us anymore.”

Retracting her fingers, she pats his chest, “Okay, then. You go take a shower and I’ll finish up on lunch.”

“Sure you don’t want my help?”

Taking the glass away from him, she snorts, “To burn down our kitchen? No, thank you. You just go take care of yourself, handsome, I’ve got it.”

“Oh and let me take a look at your hands when you’re done, yeah?” she calls out to him, before making a turn towards their kitchen.

He smiles. Teeth visible, eyes scrunched.

He often found himself baffled at the serenity she evokes within him. No weight on him, his heart feels light.

He feels happy.

Jason watches her retreating figure and wishes to remain trapped in this moment forever, to relive it over and over with no seeming end. To never recall the dangers of the past, to forget his ruthless end.

It seems wishful, imaginative.

But perhaps, it is by her side, where he can simply exist like others do.

✦ ✧

Sitting at their dresser, she meticulously goes through her routine. Products laid out in order, she works with them with great intensity and care.

From the bed, he watches, mesmerised.

Something so simple, so mundanely common yet he was enthralled, because it was to do with her.

He found this to be one of his favourite times, at night when they are together. Verbosity does not matter as long as she is near. In her presence, his mind hardly wanders, too preoccupied with thoughts of her.

In her presence, he found that maybe he truly was capable of moving forward without a trace of the shadow of his past life.

“What’s that for?”

“This?” she gestures to the cylindrical container consisting of a white cream, “Moisturiser-it’s to make my skin smooth,” she smiles.

“Explains why you’re so soft,” he winks eliciting a small laugh from her.

“Do you wanna try it?” She asks, mindlessly, focusing on applying the cream onto her face in repetitive motions.

It means nothing. A simple question.

Yet it lands in the pitfalls of his stomach, tearing at his insides with vengeful intent.

It reminds him of the marks he had left.

“Jay, everything alright? You’ve gone quiet.”

“Huh, uh, yeah. Sure, I-I’ll try it,” he mumbles, still trying bury the nauseous thoughts infesting his mind.

Walking over to him, she kneels to be at eye level. Smiling, she scoops a small dollop and spreads it on his face evenly.

Closing his eyes, he audibly winces.

“Cold?” she pouts in giddy amusement.

“No, sorry, it’s just…”

It is always within these moments where he finds words forsaking him, leaving him behind in hysterical befuddlement.

Entirely frustrating, he feels ashamed.

“What’s wrong?“ she whispers, taken aback by the sudden shift in the room.

In his eyes.

“When he did-he, he ruined my skin,” lips trembling, his voice breaks. Eyes glazed over, the memory reduces him to tears.

Her heart breaks, into tiny trinkets, seeping into her veins like sharp blades.

Smoothing her fingers over his face, she feels every space, every bump, every crevice. Her touch emphasises it’s current state.

“You feel that, Jay? It’s not there anymore, it’s gone.”

Hands falling to her side, she rests her forehead against his. Eyes closing at the impact, she whispers, “He’s gone.”

“He can’t hurt you anymore.”

In finality, he breaks down. Her words loom over him, wrapping him a comfortable embrace, promising assurance.

Tears leaving behind a burning reminder of what once was.

But perhaps, the truth resides within her words; he is no more and along with him, has vanished any control he ever had over Jason.

✦ ✧

“We should go star-gazing tonight, what do you think?” he mumbles absentmindedly.

Lowering the heat, she turns to face him. Sitting at the dining table, his nose is buried in a book. Eyes devouring the pages eagerly.

A beautiful sight, she wishes to capture forever. To view over and over again, to remind her of the goodness that is him.

“Where’s this coming from?” mirth dances beneath her words, heart floundering at his spontaneity.

Inserting his book mark, he closes book and looks in her direction.

“We haven’t gone in a while, we used to go up to the cliff all the time.”

“Hmm, that’s true. I didn’t even realise, honestly…”

Standing up, he walks over to her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulls her close. Flashing her a small smile, he lightly sways her side to side, “So what do you say?”

Resting her head against his chest, she smiles at the beating of his heart.

Oh, what a truly symphonic sound.

“Yeah, we should go. Give me five minutes, I’ll pack up dinner and we can have a picnic up there.”

Looking up at the ceiling, he groans, “Woman after my own heart, I swear.”

Pulling him down for a kiss, she giggles, “Alright, Romeo, get the car ready I’ll meet you outside.”

Moving away from him, he grabs a hold of her hand causing her to halt. Turning, she faces him once more, brow quirked in confusion, “You know, I love you, right?”

Brows softening, she finds herself getting trapped in a love fuelled haze.

Squeezing his fingers, she returns the sentiment, “I love you too.”

✦ ✧

One hand on the wheel, his other hand hold hers at the centre console, dropping it periodically to shift gears only to grab it again.

Thumb stroking her skin, he feels calmness from within.

Windows down, the cool night’s air wisps through the car.

The radio plays loudly and Jason sings the words at a competing volume. Without a care in the world, he succumbs to the solace the night has to offer.

The solace her presence has to offer.

She stares, blatantly. Her heart elated at his youthful giddiness, for it is a rarity. At night, he loses himself to the horrors of his fractured memories.

But as the days have gone by, those memories seem to be losing their place to ones sparking comfort.

She can only pray that the new ones stay embedded.

She can only pray that the near future only has to show kindness.

Pulling their intertwined hands up to her face, she gives the back of his hand a kiss.

✦ ✧

Food consumed and packed away, the pair lay on the soft checkered print blanket.

Her head on his chest, she makes out shapes with the stars, gaze lost within their picturesque gleam.

Hands brushing over her hair, he reflects.

There is no storm brewing in his mind. There is no grief suffocating him.

He is simply in the moment, at one with her.

“You seem better these days,” she whispers, unmoving, eyes still etched onto the sky.

“Yeah?”

He feels curious, at her perception of him, of what had happened.

She would never judge. He knew that. But what was it that she truly thought, of him.

“You don’t have a lot of nightmares anymore.”

Tracing her finger over his shirt, she draws indistinguishable patterns.

“You noticed?”

He never knew.

“I usually stay awake till late,” she mumbles.

Hand on her back, he gestures for her to sit up. Brows furrowed, she stares at him confused.

He stares at her, emotions indescribable.

“Why?”

“Just in case you needed me,” she shrugs.

“I never knew,” he whispers, voice low and full of guilt.

“I never told you. Jay, it’s not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay, getting enough rest. You were just exhausted all the time, it made me worry.”

“I-thank you,” he sighs.

“I already told you: I’d do anything for you,” she says, earnest.

Resting his weight on his elbows, he shifts his sight to the view of the city.

“I think I’m ready to let go.”

“What do you mean?”

He laughs.

“Before, I was mad at this city. I was mad at Dick, at Bruce. I felt betrayed.”

“I died protecting a city that didn’t even mourn my loss.”

A few moments pass, drenched in silence. She struggles to find the right words, the words that would take away the harrowing thoughts and soothe them into oblivion.

What can you say to comfort a man who lost everything only for it to return in devastating moderation?

“Jason, I don’t really know what to say, I’m sorry,” facing him at his side, she rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, “No matter what, though, you didn’t deserve any of it. It wasn’t fair.”

He continues.

“I look at this city now and feel this new sense of liberation. I’m not that little kid anymore. This is a new life, why can’t it be a fresh start?”

Staring into her eyes, he relents, “I don’t wish to think of him anymore.”

“Okay.”

Laying back down, he feels a weight escape at his confession, “Okay.”

Laying next to him, with her head on his shoulder, she smiles, “Consider him nonexistent then.”

Laughing, he wraps his arm around her, “I meant what I said. Thank you, for everything you do. I wouldn’t be here, this way, if you hadn’t been there. You take care of me.”

“You take care of me too.”

He feels his heart race. There is a newfound sense of living surrounding them. He does not have to live in restraints anymore.

This is a new beginning.

“Hey, this city may be a shit hole but at least it brought you to me.”

It was simply within his nature to let his poeticism often dictate his speech.

It was for her and her, only.

✦ ✧

His life is not easy.

But perhaps, it is within this moment, he has found the key to live; not as the boy who once died, rather as the boy who was reborn.

[saltofmercury]

Scenes from a relationship

A Jason Todd fic.

(Fem!S/O)

Summary: A collection of moments between Jason and his significant other.

Warnings: Slight angst. Swearing. Arguments. Description of injuries. Mention of blood. Medical content (stitching, bandaging). Mention of razor (in a metaphor). Mention of gunfire. Mention of death and funerals (unnamed batbro’s, not Jason’s). Crying. Yelling. Couple showering together (pre-established consent). Mention of food.

Word count: 4k

Note: I’m actually super happy with this. I hope you guys enjoy this piece as much as I did writing it. Let me know your thoughts<3

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Hands resting lightly on the wooden railing, she stares ahead at the night sky.

The city lies asleep and quietude casts a bleak shadow over it.

She lets it embrace her whole, for it shines in all its rarity and it may never appear once more.

Jason stands behind her, a watchful gaze accompanying him. Arms crossed, he leans against the door panel; a certain bliss overtaking him completely.

He surrenders to it.

The night sparks a certain chill. Its tendrils swivel past her neck, whispering cold murmurs. Shivering slightly, they evoke goosebumps; one by one.

She hugs herself close, seeking comfort, seeking warmth, from within. She studies the stars, how they gleam amidst the navy blue atmosphere, how they accompany the moon and amplify its borrowed sheen.

It reflects in her irises, they widen and carry in them, her emotions, her queries, her troubles.

Staring intently, she converses with the moon in solemn silence. Shares with it the tales of her love, the tales of him and what they are, together.

In the moon, she finds a friend. A friend for the lonely nights where he disappears into the malicious narrows of their city and leaves in his wake, a trail of worry and trepidation.

It is the calmness of the night that soothes the hollow discomfort his ritualistic absence incites.

With slow, deliberate steps, he situates himself behind her. Makes himself known, never one to startle. She can sense him, hear him, feel him.

His presence demands attention and once given, it consumes her whole. A soft touch around her throat, it steals her breath. Plying open her skin, it separates her ribs and seeks out her heart, away from its confines of safety. It beats rampant, fast, unsteady.

Pounding incessantly, she concludes that it beats for him.

Tentative, he outstretches his hands, trailing them upwards her interlocked arms. At his featherlight touch, re-emerge the bumps in her skin. A ticklish sensation, it swims in the pitfalls of her stomach.

She accepts it. Cradles it. Holds it, close and tight. Afraid to ever lose out on the divine emotion, she protects it.

Wrapping his arms around her fully, he pulls her close. Breathing her in, he feels the tension dissipate. It vanishes as his body collapses into a relaxed state of nothingness. The worldly demise within him crumbles and surrounds him, earthly peace. The land falls silent.

In this moment, everything else ceases to exist.

In this moment, it is just the two of them.

At his grip, she closes her eyes. She is protected and she is safe.

“You’re not leaving tonight?”

Her words are hushed, laced with blatant hopefulness.

“No, think I’m gonna stay here.”

It resides in the upward curl of her lips, her gratitude, her relief. Head leaned on his chest, she nuzzles into him, a great wave of solace now washing over her.

“Thank you,” she whispers, afraid a volume any louder would shatter the mirage of their temporarily borrowed serenity.

Wordless, he simply seals his promise with a kiss.

* * *

A streak of blood trickles down his forehead. Pulsating, the wound is slit open; crimson red, it stands out against the pale nature of his skin.

Her hands shake as they graze the bruises lining his body. In various places, they decorate it like splashes of paint. Haphazard and reckless, they form a palate of purples and blues.

Jason sits calm. His pain is masked, hidden behind training, behind strategy.

A hand that has been dealt, weakness is a card he only shows to her.

With trembling fingers, with a hesitant gaze, with a sorrow filled heart, she attempts to stitch his cut. As the needle pierces his skin, he winces. Eyes clenched shut, he inhales a sharp breath.

It burns the tip of her fingers, travelling through her veins is the ache that resides within him. Imitating a warm wildfire, it has her insides reduced to mere embers.

With immediacy, she halts. Hand still hovering, she feels the panic rise in her throat, wrapping a noose around it, she feels it tighten with every beat of time. It robs her off her breathe, diluting her speech to a meek whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He clutches the bed, tight. His knuckles bared white at the pressure. Through clenched teeth, he demands, “Just do it, get it over with. Please.”

She can hear it, hiding beneath the urgency.

Jason Todd is tired of the fight.

As quick and as painless as she can manage, she carries on. A mantra playing on repeat in her head, she vows stability to her amateur hands.

Inexperienced, they trace the scars with fragility. Bestow love upon the crevices, the indents permanently etched onto his withered skin.

Visible to only her, they are for her to cherish.

Discarding the needle, she moves onto bandaging his head. She does so, gently and ease overtakes the tension wrapped around his body.

He lets go and she feels the fire dissipate.

“I wish you wouldn’t do this yourself, Jay,” she hums, absentmindedly, yet her words are shrouded with clarity.

Finishing the job, she moves off the floor and away from him. She gathers everything used and quickly disposes off the waste. Eyes unable to tolerate the bloodied gauze for even a moment longer.

Eyes unable to watch a bloodied him for even a moment longer.

Jason senses it.

He sighs, and his words drown in glorious misery, “I can’t stop. Not until I find him.”

Hidden within the declaration, lies the truth:

Not until he kills him.

* * *

The hum of the radio softly crowds the kitchen, musical notes flowing melodically around her, she gently sways to the beat.

It lies within the movement of her fingers, the way she twirls the wooden spoon, a dash of salt sprinkled in the pot with spontaneity- it all omits from the cages of memory.

Memories of him, of what he loves, of what sprouts comfort in the confinements of his perilous life.

The mere thought of him incites a welcomed heartache; it beats restlessly against her rib cage, an outcry to be set free, to blatantly feel without restriction.

It is loud, only to be hushed at the sight of him.

A smile creeps up the edges of her lips as the sound of the lock makes way to her ears; symphonic, it burns with contentment.

The lock twists open, and his footsteps echo against the creaks of the floorboards.

Her heart speeds up, eager and impatient. Truly, it beats for him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jason smirks, smug and interested, he leans against the entryway, staring at her with sheer intent of attention.

Wiping her hands on the dish towel, she sets it on the counter and makes her way towards him. Quickness tracing every step.

The greeting occurs with ease, his arm around her waist, hers around his neck. Grip tight, the pair hold each other close.

“You’re here,” words muffled by his skin, her smile dances evident between the words.

Pulling apart with his hands on her shoulders, he places a kiss onto her warm forehead, “Figured it was time to test out the spare key,” he shrugs.

She smiles, wide, happiness on pure display, “I’m glad you did.”

Peeking over her head, he furrows his eyebrows at the sight of the pot boiling away, “What’re you making?”

“Guess!” she cheeses, teasing him.

Moving towards the stove, he gasps with over dramatic glee, “You didn’t.”

Laughing, she grabs his hands, pulling him towards her once more. Standing close, she beams at him, “Oh, I did. Thought you could use a little pampering,” she pokes his chest gently.

Eyes closed, he groans in giddy satisfaction. Grabbing her right arm, he sets his upon his shoulder and his on her waist. Intertwining the other two, he asks, “Dance with me?”

Expression melting with adoration, lips contorting into a warm pout, she whispers with full discretion, “Of course.”

“Thank you, doll, for everything,” he hums, pressing a chaste kiss to her hair.

Closing her eyes at the impact, she reciprocates the sentiment, “I’d do just about anything for you, Jay.”

At her words, he finds himself lose control, feels the intensity of affection infest his veins but it remains a secret, for now, it is soon.

Silent, he allows his movement to speak in place of his words. Silent, he hopes it conveys what really hides behind.

He sways them to the music from the little countertop radio and she follows his lead. Speech now disregarded, the pair stare into each other’s eyes. Gazes heavy, they radiate intimate fondness.

They stare, they study, they search as everything fades away into the dark abyss.

It is amidst each other, in this moment, that they find the true meaning of living; when the world falls quiet into a noise of blur and the focus resides on the one that they adore.

It is amidst each other, in this moment, that they find the true meaning of falling in love.

* * *

Red rimmed and drenched, her eyes trace over the window. Precipitation taints the glass and trickles down, leaving behind a watery lane merely remnant of what once was there.

In mimicry, her tears follow. Warm to feel, there lies a burn in their trail. A salted pain consuming her whole.

She feels her insides contort, conjoin, all blend into one another. Tearing each other apart, she aches all over. A blinding rage brewing beneath the commotion.

Rubbing at her forehead with harsh strokes, she breathes sharply, still refusing to face the culprit of her demise, standing tall, right behind her.

“I can’t believe you would do something so stupid, Jason!” she mutters, tone quiet, words laced with grieving anger.

He huffs, infuriation following behind every little moment. Helmet thrown carelessly on the bed, his jacket spews across the room, landing with a light thud, blood splatters create intricate little patterns on the wooden floor.

His blood.

His silence plays like mockery, amplifying every emotion within her. She turns, abrupt and stalks towards him. Grabbing his bicep roughly, she forces him to face her, halting his de-robing.

“Answer me, damn it. Don’t just act like nothing happened.”

His nostrils flare and his eyes sharpen, she can see a storm brewing between the ocean blue irises. He gets close, impossibly, bodies almost touching, he gets in her face. His warm breath fans across her skin, rapid and haste; he has had enough.

“What the fuck do you want me to say, huh? I made a mistake. It was a small miscalculation.” His words have the edge of a razor, the prick at her skin, prod until they feel her succumb to the pain, until they feel her bleed all over.

Stumbling backwards, she laughs. The once melodic sound now devoid of all humour. A certain darkness shadows her. She tilts her head towards the ceiling, taking a breather before facing him once more.

“A miscalculation? You call standing in the line of fire a miscalculation? Telling a maniacal mass murderer to ‘take his best shot’ is not a miscalculation, Jason, no, it’s a fucking death wish.”

He moves towards her, deliberate steps eliciting creaks from the floorboards below. He moves until he has her up against the wall, hands holding her arms in a steady grip. Leaning down, at eye level, he grumbles in a dangerously low baritone, “Enough, alright? I’m right fucking here. Standing in front of you, breathing. Why is that not enough?”

Exasperated, he does not look away. Darkened, dilated pupils bore holes into her own. Venom drips from his speech; it’s poisonous tip slowly injecting her veins and contaminating her blood. Prickly in nature, it evokes a pain unknown to her.

Resting her head against the wall, she closes her eyes and at the intrusion, her tears create a stream. Establishing camaraderie, they flow one after the other.

Tired, she does not have the heart to wipe them away.

Prideful, he does not have the courage to wipe them away for her.

Sniffling, she stares directly at him. Jason sees the anger dissipate and leave behind, uncaged, a glorious sorrow.

It is enough to make his heart break.

“You don’t get it, do you? If you die, you don’t have to deal with that but I do. Your family does. I don’t want to see that, Jason. Please, don’t make me.”

Letting his hands fall to his sides, he falls silent and allows her words to sink in.

She pushes him away and he lets her with ease. She steps out of his hold, he does not stop her, and she heads towards the door. With her hand lightly hovering over the doorknob and a hesitant look back, she whispers in a hoarse, broken tone, “We already buried your brother, Jason, I sure as hell won’t be burying you next.”

Walking out of his sight, she leaves the door open.

A short moment passes by and he hears the distant thud of the front door and finds everything inside of him crumble at the seams.

A petulant child, he clutches at his hair, grabbing, pulling, tugging. Inflicting pain upon himself, he seeks punishment. Craves it as her words echo back to him in repetition.

They stab at his skin with taunts and mockery, bestow upon him unparalleled guilt.

He feels himself break, submit to the melancholic horror and he lets himself fall.

On his knees, he cries out; he cries out for his brother, for her, for himself.

He cries out for the ambiguity that haunts him:

Who is he, if he does not seek vengeance? Who is he, if he simply embraces caution?

Time goes by. Seconds, minutes, hours, he struggles to decipher between them. Standing beneath the shower head, he lets the scalding water pour over him. A bloodied stream makes its way towards the drain.

He ponders. Rubbing his hands over his face, he thinks over his words, his actions, his impatience.

Strategy forgone in the name of brotherhood, he had delved head first into battle. Caution thrown to the wind.

Jason had seen red, out for blood, he failed to think of his potential demise. He had failed to recall the ramifications.

It lays heavy over him, hurting his chest, seizing his breath.

Amidst his dilemma, he hears the shower door open and a small splash indicating movement.

Her hand trails up his back with delicacy, tracing the engorged scars, her finger tips reek of familiarity. At the recognition of her soft touch, his body relaxes.

Hugging him from behind, she sets her palm on his chest and he quickly grabs a hold of it, pressing a wet kiss into it.

“I was worried about you.”

With her head resting on his back, her words are muffled by his drenched skin, “I’m sorry.”

Turning around, he tugs her close. Hands on her back, he lets the water pour over her too, “Don’t be. It’s raining out, just didn’t want you getting sick.”

He smiles. She can tell that it is forced.

Heart aching, she pushes her fingers through his wet locks, pulling them back out of his eyes. She dotes over him.

“I was out of line before, Jay, I shouldn’t have said that. I was just upset. Gosh, I was being a massive jerk, I’m so sorry, honey.”

Rushed, her words pile over one another, afraid to lose momentum, afraid to lose him.

Cupping the back of her head, he pulls her into his embrace and holds her tight, “No, you were right. I wasn’t thinking. I’m gonna be more careful. I promise you, baby, no one’s gonna take me away from you.”

Pulling away, she shakes her head and offers him a disheartened smile, “You can’t promise me that, Jason.”

Leaning down, he touches his forehead against hers. Eyes closed, he whispers with sincerity, “I can. I’m not gonna leave you. Not when I can help it.”

She huffs out a watery laugh, feeling a certain weight escape her gradually, “Okay. I’ll just have to trust you on that.”

In suddenness, he leans in.

Jason kisses her. With fervour, with passion, with his apology. He pours his grief into her, allowing her to take away his sorrows. To mend his irrationality.

Harsh, rough and messy, he kisses her to prove his reliability.

He is here and he is here to stay.

Detaching, his eyes remained shut as he catches his breath. Her lips swollen and parted, release pockets of air and yearn to feel his once more.

Pupils blown and widened, they stare him down with acceptance.

This is who he is. This is who she wants.

Stumbling into her, he lets her carry his weight, “Stay with me, tonight?”

Lips inches apart from his, she conveys her answer with a kiss, “Always.”

* * *

The sun blares bright, drowning the pair in its warm, orange glow. They bask in it; blanket spread out on the dewy grass, they lay cuddled close together.

Jason’s hand traces the length of her back; soothing and gentle, it moves up and down in a slow, repetitive motion. Her’s rests loosely across his chest, lazily drawing obscure patterns with the tip of her finger.

His actions are calm, riddled with tranquility-a feeling so foreign to him, the moment reads surreal.

It is with the soft, inviting drum of his heart and his serene touch that she finds the cradle of slumber coerce her, nearly lulling her to sleep.

“You keep doing that and I’m gonna fall asleep,” she slurs, voice slightly muffled by his t-shirt.

He places a doting kiss to her forehead, “That’s alright, doll, you can sleep if you want to.”

With immediacy, she turns on her back and grabs a hold of his hand to interlock their hands, halting their movement entirely. Staring at their conjoined fingers, she expresses in a hushed tone, “No, you took the day off and I wanna spend every minute with you. We don’t really get to do this often.”

He feels a pinch, a small crack, an odd emotion swimming in the pitfalls of his stomach. It borders on guilt; guilt for his frequent absence, guilt for her unwavering loyalty.

Jason thinks for the moment, she understands his frame of mind.

It begs clarity: perhaps, he does not deserve her, yet he is far too selfish to leave her.

Pulling their joined hands close, he kisses the back of hers , once, twice.

“I’m sorry. I should be here, it’s not fair to you,” he whispers feigning composure. His voice betrays him completely.

Moving to rest on her elbows, she detaches their hands to cup his cheek. Thumb lightly caressing at his stubble, she stares into his eyes, hoping hers convey even a semblance of her devoted affections, “Hey, I didn’t mean for it to sound as if I’m unhappy. I understand what you do, I just wanna cherish the moments that we spend together. I don’t want to forget anything.”

Silence invades him. He lets the minutes pass to take in her words, to allot to them precedence. He does not let his gaze falter.

His stare is gentle, his blue irises are calm; no storm brewing within them, they are simply a subdued wave.

Shying beneath his intense examination, she cannot help the small laugh that escapes her tinted lips “What?”

Expression unfaltering, Jason whispers, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

She smiles. There is a slight skip in the beat of her heart, a flame that lights up within her bloodstream. A cape of happiness engulfs her.

Surprise does not accompany his confession. The sentiment had always followed them, hidden beneath gestures, within gazes, in the safe confines of their soul.

“I just hope you don’t get tired of me.”

Manoeuvring skilfully, he flips them around. Her on her back, him on top, with his weight held up. Groaning, he rests his forehead against hers and closes his eyes, “Oh, baby, I don’t think I could get tired of you even if I tried.”

She laughs, wholeheartedly. A brazen giddiness robbing her of all rationality, “Yeah, is that so?”

He nods, eager, before dropping his head in the crook of her neck, littering it with loud kisses. Tickling her skin, he evokes joyous giggles from her.

Pulling away, he faces her with a boyish grin, “Baby, this city could fall apart and all I’d care about is you.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, wordlessly, she pulls him close and kisses his lips, once, twice.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he proclaims with sincerity.

“I love you, Jason Todd,” she mimics his tone.

* * *

In their shared bedroom, the pair unwind with ease. Moving around each other seamlessly, they have each established their own routine around each other.

Standing in front of the dressing table, she takes off her earrings, setting them delicately in their box.

Jason stands by the bed, messily shedding himself off his suit.

“Tonight was fun, no?” she hums, attention derailed by her stubborn necklace. Arms getting tired, she struggles with the chain.

“Yeah, which is how I know B didn’t plan it,” Jason laughs, putting on an old, withered t-shirt.

“Need some help, darling?” he asks, already walking in her direction.

Throwing her arms down in exasperation, she groans, “Please.”

He stands tall behind her, close enough for her to feel his warmth. Hands resting on her shoulders, he flashes her a smile, “Pull your hair up, baby.”

She complies, staring at him through the reflection. Rough, calloused fingers work diligently with the flimsy chain. They brush against her skin on the back of neck and her eyes flutter to a close and with a sigh, she feels goosebumps line up her body.

Her heart races, adrenaline courses through her and she feels the exhilaration from his presence pull her apart, ripping her to shreds, rendering her merely an obedient object of his affections.

“Here you go,” dismantles her reverie and she is brought back down, opening her eyes, she sees him through a misty blur, holding out her necklace for her to take.

Clearing her throat, she shakily grabs a hold of it and sets on their dresser. “Thank you,” she sends him a smile, standing up straight.

Pulling her towards him, he holds her steady towards his chest. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he rests his head in the crook of her neck, gazing at their reflection with a love struck expression.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

She laughs, a certain shyness provoking her, “Only a few times.”

Nuzzling into her, he smirks, “Well, in that case, you look beautiful.”

Patting his arm a few times, she flashes him an amused pout, “Thank you, baby. You looked very handsome yourself.”

Standing up straight, he flexes his muscles at her, “Oh, I know I did.”

Pushing back into him, she snorts, “Okay, narcissist. Unzip me?”

His hands make way to the zipper immediately at her command. His hand hovers, he takes his time with it. He feels his mind wander, all the possibilities suddenly becoming known.

Perhaps, it is within comfortable domesticity.

Perhaps, it is within casual romanticism.

Perhaps, it is simply within their relationship.

He wishes for it to be his forever.

“Marry me?”

He unzips her.

She freezes.

Her eyes widen and she turns to him, holding up her dress, “What did you just say?”

He shrugs, running a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze, “Do you wanna marry me?”

“Are you proposing? Is this you proposing, right now?”

There is a certain panic, a certain disbelief, a certain thrill tainting her tone.

Laughing, he ushers her towards the bed and sits her down on it, kneeling down before her, “Baby, relax, okay? This is just me confirming that when I do ask you’re not gonna laugh in my face.”

One hand on her chest, the other goes to cup his cheek. With tears brimming, she lets out a small watery laugh, “I would never say anything but yes to you, Jason Todd,” she whispers gleefully.

“Guess I better start looking for a ring now, huh?” he teases, overjoyed.

Wordless, she simply seals her answer with a kiss.

[saltofmercury]

Restless

A Jason Todd blurb.

(Fem!SO)

Summary: They can’t fall asleep so she takes to admiring him.

Warnings: None!

Note: I’m back…sort of. I’ve been in a horrendous reading and writing slump. This is something that was born out of sheer spontaneity so my apologies if it’s not good but I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

“I can’t sleep,” Jason whispers.

“It’s okay, neither can I,” she whispers back to him.

Laying adjacent, they face one another. Illuminated barely by the soft glow of the moon, accompanied by the great romanticism of the bleak midnight.

Staring into his eyes, she is filled with a swivel of unparalleled feelings. Blue, like the ocean, they are vast, carrying a myriad of emotions.

Mellow and calm, they tell his story.

Slowly moving her index finger towards him, she traces the bruised skin of his forehead with a featherlight touch, mouth slightly parted as her irises follow her divine exploration. It makes way down to the tiny dip in his chin, trickling upwards to the swell of his lips. She lets her finger linger and he lightly purses his lips to press a small, unnoticeable peck against her skin.

With every contact made, he finds his breathing falter, and his heart beat speed up, for he is gently admired and freely loved.

“You are beautiful.”

Magnificent, he is truly a sight to behold.

His eyes flutter to a close at her bold declaration, eyelashes brushing against his flushed cheeks. He feels himself become consumed by an inexplicable sense of warmth. He feels himself be consumed by the likes of her and her poetic expression.

Irrevocably, he has found himself to be ruined in this world for anyone but her.

“Sometimes, I feel as though you were only made to be seen by my eyes,” voice quiet and laced with hints of escaped slumber, she preserves the silent moment they have gracefully trapped themselves in.

As the world falls to a hush, it is only they who exist.

With a gratified sigh, he leans forward. Pressing his forehead against her own, he keeps his eyes closed.

“I only ever want to be seen by you.”

>───⇌••⇋───<

[saltofmercury]

Yearning for eternity

a Jason Todd blurb

(fem!S/O)

Summary: in late hours of the night, the pair delve into a wishful conversation

Warnings: not proofread.

Note: I missed writing so much so here is a short, spontaneous piece while I work on something more structured. Hope you enjoy it!

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

“I want to be with you forever,” she croaks, voice riddled with a certain sleepy raspiness. Her words echo into the quiet room.

Late at night, it is just the pair of them, entrapped in a love fuelled haze.

“Forever is a long time,” Jason teases, mirth dangling amidst the words. But even in the dark, she knows his smile is genuine.

Moving closer, she cuddles into him. Hand laid across his bare front, she rests her head in the crook of his neck. In immediacy, he leans on top of it.

It is derived from familiarity. It is all that they know.

Each other.

“All the more reason to want it.”

Silent, he tugs her in closer. Her firm affirmations inciting an irrational unsteadiness to the beating of his heart.

Sighing, she continues, “I miss you when you’re away. Sometimes I wish everything would just…disappear so that it could just be the two of us.”

A sharp blade, reflecting the light, he feels it painfully pierce through his skin.

A hope. A dream. A desire for it to transfigure into their very own reality.

“Soon it’ll all be different.”

Within the sincerity of his words resides a promise.

“Then you’ll be mine forever?” she laughs, perhaps at the sheer absurdity or perhaps at sheer glee. All he knows is it is a sound he craves to hear on repeat.

Huffing out a breath of air, he presses a kiss onto her head.

“Forever.”

[saltofmercury]

An image of bliss

a Jason Todd blurb

(Fem!S/O)

Summary:Jason and his s/o enjoy a quiet moment in a library together.

Warnings: none!

Note: dedicated to the lovely @citrinesparkles <3

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

The pair sit cross legged on the carpeted floor. Perched against a bookshelf, the two sit next to one another, close, knees touching, shoulders brushing.

It is blissful. Surrounded by the quietude of the library, they are entrapped in a world of their own. Everything appears encased in a blurry haze; others simply seize to exist, it is only them.

Leaning her head against Jason’s shoulder, she encircles her arm around his bicep, nuzzling into him.

He smiles. Peering down at her, he presses a kiss onto her head. Savouring the feeling of her against him, he cherishes the calm resting within him. His heart beats steady, unperturbed by the horrors that plague him.

Often lingering in his mind like shadowy crooks in alleyways, they are nowhere to be found.

In this moment, it is only they who matter. It is only they who persist.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Read to me?” she whispers back.

In a hushed voice, he does, reading the words to her. Periodically shifting his gaze from the page to her, just to see, just to remember, just to lock in the image and keep it engraved in his mind forever, as to him it is the most magnificent sight to have graced his world.

The sight of her serenity.

Like zephyr, she feels it. Revelling in the sounds he makes, she finds herself drowning in the pleasantness he evokes within her.

In their proximity, lies an unparalleled happiness. In this bubble of love, they prevail,

for in this world, it is only they who exist.

[saltofmercury]

Sunset Kisses

a Jason Todd blurb.

(fem!S/O)

Summary: Jason and his partner watch the sunset together.

Warnings: none!

Note: this one’s for my love, R. @mysticalrambling hope you like it, lovely <3

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

From the windshield, the sun gleams within his irises. A mix of orange and yellow hues spiral inside the vehicle, dousing it in subtle illumination.

Lighting the sky pink in its liquidised state, it prepares to set with hushed goodbyes.

Car parked over a cliff, the pair overview the sight. She is held captive by it, seemingly. Eyes mesmerised, they do not stray from the image.

One look and Jason concludes it is simply not as gentle on the eyes as her.

Watching her, he is content. There is a certain sense of beauty to her that the celestial object simply cannot compare to.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers.

“You are,” Jason declares, staring at her with open admiration.

Turning towards him, she laughs lightly. Beaming up at him, there is a great flushness that engulfs her whole.

“You’re cheesy.”

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning towards her. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Gaze locked in on his movements, she holds her breath.

He has her attention.

Tracing the tip of his finger down her cheek to her chin, he grasps it between his index finger and thumb. Pulling her close, he kisses her.

Soft. Slow. Languid.

And just like that he finds himself lost within her, once more.

In front of the picturesque sunset, he could kiss her forever, he thinks.

[saltofmercury]

When the stars shine, come home

a Jason Todd blurb

(Fem!S/O)

Summary: Sometime during the night, he makes his way back to her.

Warnings: None!

Note: Roughly inspired by “Paterson”.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Late into the night, their home is engulfed by a sense of quietude.

The room sits still, illuminated by a dull yellow lightbulb.

Jason trudges inside with a gentle softness, footsteps left unheard as to not perturb her calm slumber.

He gets into bed, behind her; draping his arm across her waist, he pulls her close.

Half-awake, she smiles, “You’re home.”

Closing his eyes, he presses a kiss onto her head, “Mhm, go back to sleep, I’ll see you later.”

Nuzzling back into him, she continues, “I love how you smell when you come back.”

“Dirty?” he huffs out a small laugh.

“Like yourself.”

An insignificant admittance, it tugs at the tendrils of his heart. A warmth spreads within him. A wildfire fuelled by unprecedented emotion.

To this, he vows to come home forever.

For this is where his end awaits, amidst her words, within her embrace.

[saltofmercury]

The sun and the moon yearn for one another

a Jason Todd blurb

female!s/o

Summary: Their pairing feels like destiny, one written in the stars. Perhaps that is why they find themselves yearning for an eternity together.

Warnings: Discussion of marriage.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

“I’d like for this to last forever,” Jason whispers. His declaration flows calmly within the quiet of their room, dissipating into a tendril of the night.

They lie intertwined together, cocooned into each other’s warmth.

It is safe. It is home. It is all that he knows, for familiarity only exists in the embrace of his lover.

She smiles, nestling further into him, she ponders, “Would you like to marry me?”

Doused in instantaneous delirium, his heart seems to beat slightly faster as her words sink past his flesh, into his bones, flowing into the depths of his bloodstream. They infest his mind, clouding his senses with a repetitive incantation.

Forever.

What a beautiful commitment, one drenched in serene divinity. He finds himself yearning for it, over and over again… Take me by the hand, and make me yours. This world will only have my existence if it is in the presence of your own.

“You want me to be your husband?” Jason rests his head on top of hers laying sound on his chest. Staring up at the dimly lit ceiling, his smile is irrevocable.

Eyes closed, she whispers assured in contentment, “I want to be your wife.”

“In this lifetime and any other we happen to find ourselves in.”

[saltofmercury]

jason todd eating you from the back while u read. is anyone hearing me

[saltofmercury]

minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

thinking about that tiktok trend where people call their boyfriends “my husband” in front of them to see their reaction, and how if you did that to dick grayson, his ass would not hear a word you said after calling him that. just a big ole grin. ringing in his ears. butterflies in his stomach, flustered as all hell. he’d think about it for the rest of the week with a small smile, wondering if the idea is really so far-fetched.

now, jason todd wouldn’t even blink. like, yeah, he’s your husband. you’re his wife. obviously—he’s felt that way since about two months after you started dating, when he realised he couldn’t wake up next to anyone else ever again. he’d recall the jewellery store he passed a couple of weeks back with the emerald-cut, gold-set ruby in the window. well…all that’s missin’ is the ring, right?

that’s all.

[saltofmercury]

Thank you for being born, little wings.

twi | ins

[saltofmercury]

He likes boy with black hair.

twi | ins | inprnt 

[saltofmercury]

What She Says: I’m fine.

What She Means: Jason Todd was the “Robin Who Died" and when he came back as Red Hood (Under The Red Hood 2004-2006) he was after Bruce for not killing the Joker and revenging his death. Bruce, after Jason’s death just metaphorically shrugged and walked away as he moved on to Tim Drake (No hate towards Tim, love that boy). But when Damian Wayne (Also love that boy), as Robin, died (Issue #8 of Batman, Inc. 2013) Bruce went mental and did nothing but search for a way to bring him back and revenge. Bruce was unwilling to accept the death. The only thing that stopped him from killing Heretic (Damian Wayne’s killer) was his resemblance to Damian. LIKE WHAT THE FUCK. Jason begged his father to revenge him, just once, but Bruce is willing to lose his sanity and entire code of conduct for Damian. Jason, being apart of the batfamily probably watched in absolute horror, as his own father choose his biological son over his adopted son. By now he probably has realized the wrongs in his past concerning trying to force Bruce to kill. Not to deemphasize Jason’s violent story, as he was acting as a sort of villain in the Under The Red Hood arc and forcefully tried to get his father to kill, but in Damian’s case, he would have done it without a second thought. Not only is this a major blow to Jason, but it is a poor representation of families with both biological children and adopted children, or even families with just adopted children, I’m sure. In short, the writers say that Bruce loves his biological son more than his adopted which is UNACCEPTABLE. Despite all of this, the writers did not exhibit how Jason was feeling during said arc which just isn’t fair to the readers OR the actual characters and their dynamic.

[saltofmercury]

For your SMAU prompts: Everyone in Gotham waiting for the announcement that Jason and Y/n are dating because it's obvious that they're in love.

List

Added a little twist at the end, hope you like it