hcneyypuff

[hcneyypuff]

A Cycle 

~ 650 Words

The ugly truth was that it was never going to work. Jason knows this. Knew that. Yet he dived headlong into loving you. 

It's not that he regrets loving you. No, not a single part of him would want to trade the intoxicating, floaty feeling he gets in his head when you look at him. Or the warmth that fills his chest when you smile at him like he's the funniest guy in the room. Or even the wobbly feeling in his knees he gets when you throw yourself at him for a hug, trusting him every time to catch you.

It's not that he's stopped loving you. No. Never. It's more that you don't belong in his world. You could. Don't get him wrong. You're strong enough, smart enough, quick enough, brave enough to weather the hell that Gotham throws at you. 

But it's all the baggage that comes with him– with Jason Todd– with Red Hood– that he thinks you should stay well and clear from. 

It's toxic, for one. A heavy storm of trauma and family drama that never quite seems to scab over before it's picked raw and open again. It's a sludge that always sticks to his skin no matter how much he scrubs at it under the weak water pressure of his safehouse shower. It's a nightmare that's always lurking on the fringes of his mind, even when the little sun Gotham does get is high and warm in the sky. 

So he could never ask you to stay, never expect you to stay, even when it's what every cell in his body seems to cry out for. You deserve someone who's not the embodiment of an anchor and a short stick of dynamite all fused into one intimidating mass. 

You deserve the best. And Jason Todd has never been the best.

He thinks he could have been once. Sometimes, secretly, when your fingers trace the line of his jaw and you press a kiss to his shoulder like it belongs there, he thinks he could try to be the best again. But Jason knows delusion when he hears it, even if it's in his own mind.

He knows it's only a matter of time before the pieces come together in your head and you realize he's not it, not right, and not good.

Because maybe a part of him hopes that if he plays the part of knowing this will work– trusting you two will work– maybe he can convince you too. Maybe, just maybe, he can buy himself a few more months, a couple more weeks, just one more day with you.

It's not going to work. He knows that. But Jason is also selfish. (Even if he shouldn't be, he thinks he deserves to be at least a little bit greedy) 

So, he'll stick around as long as you grant him the grace to. He'll soak up your kisses and hugs that feel like home and shelter you from everything and anything that comes your way. 

Jason can sink into the couch that he helped lug into your apartment that one weekend in June and pull you into his lap like he's actually done something that makes him worthy of holding you there. He can kiss the crown of your head and soak in your scent and pretend that you'll want him forever– the same way he wants you.

He can let you trace patterns over his arms and he'll try to forget he spent the entire afternoon looking at rings he'll never be brave enough to buy when he should be working on anything else. 

He knows it's only a matter of time before the light that shines in your eye at the sight of him starts to dim and dull to nothing. He knows that this moment won't last. 

But he wants it to, more than anything. So, he'll put everything he is into every day with you, hoping that this feeling– that your love– lasts just a little bit longer.

[hcneyypuff]

in case it looks ugly after i color it 🙏🏽

[hcneyypuff]

ideal jason and talia dynamic to me

[hcneyypuff]

im obsessed with anything your hands create

get this guy some cake

[hcneyypuff]

what the helly omg so good

Lotuses for Rebirth.

Jason Todd/Reader, ≈250 words Request: heyya, may i request 29. "[redacted for spoilers]" with jason but [redacted for spoilers]? thx!! By: Anon A/N: Anon, I physically flinched when I read this, you little genius! Warning: ANGST

The bouquet of artificial flowers sitting on your kitchen table seems eerily familiar. Daisies for innocents, roses for new beginnings, lilies for sympathy and devotion, an all-white arrangement but for the green stalks of eucalypts meant to symbolise protection, and the dusty pink lotuses for rebirth.

It’s the mud embedded in their plastic stalks and synthetic petals that clue you in on something sinister happening. They shouldn’t be here. You remember spending days at the library, studying what each one symbolised, making lists and imagining potential designs before you made up your mind. You’d specifically decided against fresh flowers; you’d wanted something that would last as long as your love for Jason would.

The day of his funeral, you’d placed them on his grave. Every few months, you’d go back, keeping them organised, keeping them clean, ensuring they were never stolen or blown away by the wind. They certainly weren’t supposed to be here.

What the fuck are they doing here?!

“Hey, you home?” You call out to your roommate, hoping they haven’t left for the night shift yet and can offer you any sort of answer that will keep your teetering mind from spiralling. Surely, they can’t be responsible. When they don’t answer, you approach their door, an octave away from shouting. "Hey, where did you get the flowers from?"

“My grave.” The voice that replies isn’t the one you were expecting. It’s a deep, croaking voice, one that sounds as though it hasn’t spoken in the light of day for years, and it isn’t coming from the other side of the door. It’s coming from behind you.

Drabble list #1 - send me a prompt for a drabble/blurb

[hcneyypuff]

need her so bad

hmmmmm babs in these glasses…..

[hcneyypuff]

you have probably one of my favorite characterization of ak!jason 😭🫶🏽

While You Sleep

CW: obsessive behavior, but my AK is always a warning in and of himself ~700 words

The Arkham Knight got his brain mixed up somewhere along the way. Sometime between the barbed wire twisting into his ankles and wrists and the indents of a crowbar in his skin, something went wrong.

Maybe whatever part of him that's supposed to make him normal got so numb, he stopped being able to function in the way he used– the way you remember.

He's not Jason Todd. Not really. Even if you still call him that during the infrequent visits he makes to your apartment.

He's not Jason Todd. But you say that name like you believe he is. Soft. Gentle. Like he's still someone important to you and not a wraith returned to pry open wounds that never quite healed for either of you after he disappeared.

He's not Jason Todd. It's why he finds himself in your bedroom long after you've fallen asleep, fingers grazing the beating pulse on your neck just lightly enough not to wake you. It's why he lingers, unblinking and statue still over you like he's not violating whatever sort of misguided trust you still have placed in him.

Jason Todd would have woken you up. He would have pressed kisses to your face until you were giggling and pulling him into bed to warm the chill from his skin. Robin would have never dared to slip silently into your room, avoiding every creak of wood that would threaten to wake you.

The Arkham Knight does.

It's a compulsion he can't quite get rid of. Not when he knows how easy it is to pick the lock on your window.

There's no reason for him to do it, none at all that gives him an excuse to stand over you and stare for hours on end. But The Arkham Knight rarely sleeps, and when his plans stall and he needs to get away, when the shadows seem to be closing in on him and the pitched laughter that always rings in his head starts to sound a little too real, it's your bedroom he runs to.

So maybe his visits aren't as infrequent as you think. But you'll never know that. You'll never know that, while you think he's been avoiding you for weeks, he busied himself brushing the stray hairs from your face only the night before. You'll never know that, only hours ago, he was pulling the blankets up over your chest with more tenderness than he has any right to have left.

But there's solace, in the silence of your room, with only the slow, rhythmic sounds of your breathing to break the night air. It's solace he'd seek out no matter how far he could try to run.

It makes his skin prick, in all honesty. His eyes dilate like he's preparing for a fight. His every focus latches onto you like a lifeline.

You. Sweet. Innocent. Good. Loyal to a fault to him. Everything idealistic that Jason Todd was before it was carved out of him without a shred of mercy.

Sometimes he wonders if it could be carved out of you too. If you could be tainted, the way he is.

It's only ever a passing thought.

He likes you like this, after all. Sleeping. Oblivious to the world around you. Clueless to the darkness that slips in and out of your room like it's his own.

He wants you to stay this way, wants you to keep trusting him so completely, even in your sleep.

Yes, The Arkham Knight will still wonder if you could ever see things the way he does, feel the way he does every time he closes his eyes for a few moments too long.

But he prefers watching the way you lax against your pillow, face free of furrowed brows or pursed lips. He revels in your soft, content sighs as you dream, far away from the nightmares that haunt his own mind.

He'll keep you that way, and for no one's sake but his own, he'll delay a meeting, a plan, a buy just to ensure that whatever is stressing you, isn't a problem anymore. It's always purely selfish, don't get it wrong.

The Arkham Knight is not Jason Todd, and he won't ever be again. Now, the things that he wants? He doesn't let go of. Not even while they sleep.

[hcneyypuff]

man u stink!

[hcneyypuff]

CONGRATULATIONS🎉🎉New follower here👋👋Can I request a:

Setting 12 - Such a prestigious manor

Dialogue 54 - "You don't have to do this"

Actions 76 - having a baby

Please make it angst to fluff. Thankyoouu🫶🫶

thank you so much for the request nonnie! i actually really really enjoyed writing this one! hence why it is nearly double the length of what i normally write for these prompts! i hope you enjoy!

jason todd x pregnant!fem!reader warnings: pregnancy, arguing word count: 2.1k prompts: (12. such a prestigious manor) (54. "you don't have to do this.") (76. having a baby)

You love Jason. You absolutely adore him more than anything else in this godforsaken world. He’s your rock. He’s your everything. You couldn’t imagine a world without him in it, and you wake up every day thanking the universe that he is tucked into bed next to you.

He was driving you crazy.

As your due date got closer and closer, he’d been adamant that you and him both stay at the Manor until your girl finally came along. It had come a surprise, obviously, given that Jason on a good day had to be dragged to his old home kicking and screaming, often leaving in a funk that would linger like a bad smell for days. But he insisted that he was out too much, away for too long on patrol; he needed you to be somewhere inhabited by other people who could be there in the event of some kind of emergency. You’d kicked off at first, claiming that you wanted to be at home, in the apartment the two of you shared and curated together – but after a nasty set of false contractions one night while Jason was out on a mission and a panicked call to Alfred, it hadn’t taken much to sway you.

Everyone had rallied together to get the pair of you moved and settled in. Bruce had generously given you one of the ‘guest rooms’ to stay in – guest room being the understatement of the century, it was bigger than your entire apartment by a country mile, had its own bathrooms, multiple bedrooms, a dining table. It was absurd. But the whole day had been lovely – oddly domestic – Jason and all of his siblings bickering back and forth as they carried box after box of various knick-knacks you’d tearfully insisted needed to come with you to make it feel like home.

That is, until Jason had started trying to tell you what to do.

It had started light, directing you to only pick up certain things, forcing you to ‘keep him company’ while he sorted through the van you’d borrowed to move everything – like it wasn’t some thinly veiled excuse to keep you away from any kind of physical exertion. He’d started directing the others, casually telling them to lift the box he knew you spied out of the corner of your eye. You’d taken a few measured breaths, tried to keep your cool, but he just kept pushing.

“Baby, go and sit down,” he’d hummed lightly, staring down at a particularly big box with a quirked brow, likely trying to gauge the best way to lift it, “it’s been a long few hours.”

“Jay, I’m fine,” you’d huffed with a roll of your eyes, reaching to pick up a lighter container. You’d made the mistake of letting out an ever so slight wheeze as you attempted to lean forward over the massively inconvenient bump that followed you everywhere you went. Jason’s eyes snapped over to you in an instant.

“Go. Chill. Please,” Jason’s words had been firm, and if you hadn’t been enraged by the sheer nerve of it, you would’ve cooed over just how much he was becoming like a father, “everything that’s left is heavy, too heavy for you to be lifting. You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m not some useless object,” you spat, “I want to help. I can help.”

“You’re puffing and panting like you’ve run a fuckin’ marathon,” there was an edge to his words that told you that he absolutely wasn’t joking, but the final straw was when he turned to Alfred, “Alfie, please, can you go get her some water? Make sure she’s settled in and–”

“Jason,” the red had bled across your vision now, and what would normally be a petty spat that would’ve had you shrugging and wandering off until he calmed down, had been filtered through the megaphone that is hormones. “Don’t you dare fucking speak for me. And don’t you dare talk about me like I’m not here. I’m not some fucking vessel to carry your kid, I’m a person.”

It was only then that the rage seemed to dissipate, the feeling bubbling down as quickly as it had come up, leaving a burn of bile in the back of your throat. You make out a low whistle from behind you, the soft whisper of Dick – damn, Jay, she told you. Jason had been stock still, mouth agape, eyes wide and box long forgotten at his feet. There was an echo of something hurt on his features, a frustration clear in the way his jaw snapped shut and teeth grated together. He didn’t say a word, just turned to face the back of the van without a sound. You could make out the murmurs of your fiancé’s entire-fucking-family behind you as you turned to stalk away, not caring enough to bite at the teasing words that began to trickle out.

That’s how you ended up where you were now, curled on the couch in the den, Alfred the Cat nestled in your lap and Titus and Ace flocked at your feet. You can’t help but let out a wet laugh, wiping away the stray tears that had fought their way out as the three animals stare up at you expectantly – must be true, what they say about animals and being able to sense things. They’d all appeared as soon as you flopped down onto the cushions, refusing to leave ever since.

“It is a sign of favourable character,” comes a sharp voice from the doorway, “that the animals trust you so.”

“Or they just know where their owner is going to be,” you huff out, shifting yourself to more of a seated position with a great effort, “hey Damian.”

The child – because you had become astutely more aware of just how young the youngest Wayne was since you’d been expecting – comes to a stop in front of you, sharp features nestled into a familiar frown. “You are upset.”

“Trust me Damian,” a chuckle vibrates in the back of your throat as you paw at your no doubt reddened cheeks, “you try having a baby and see how often you get upset.”

Damian only sneers at that, bringing his hands to cross his chest, “Don’t be absurd. I cannot have a baby. I would expect someone of your condition to know this, I thought you were the smart one between you and Todd.”

 “There’s a compliment in there somewhere,” you let a small smile creep its way onto your face, a quiet laugh, “come, sit.”

With all the slow, measured steps you would expect of a trained assassin, Damian leisurely makes his way over to you on the couch; you don’t miss the small grin that draws on his face as Titus mouths at his hand as he passes, but its quickly replaced again by the same scowl you’ve come to recognise on the boy. He only repeats his words again, “you are upset.”

“It’s fine,” you huff, “I overreacted, Jason was just trying to look out for me, that’s all. He cares and he’s a control freak.”

“He was an idiot,” Damian’s brows draw even tighter, lip sticking out ever so slightly.

“Yes, he was an idiot,” you break out into a grin, “but he was an idiot trying to do the right thing. And between you and me, he was right. Now that I’ve sat down, I don’t think I could get up again for days. I’m shattered.”

“Nonsense,” Damian sniffs.

“Nonsense?”

He seems to hesitate for a second, and you swear its nervousness that flashes across his eyes, “My mother has her faults. She is by no means a perfect example of how to raise a child in a safe environment – but she taught me that motherhood is a powerful thing. Her ferocity, her tenacity when it came to her dealings with me, her will that never ceases to break. In spite of the questionable path she has chosen in this life, she has always shown a certain resolve when it comes to her children. Todd had been her charge once upon a time, he should know better than to question a mother’s will.”

There’s something heavy that forms in your throat, a thickness that bleeds into your words, “That was really beautiful, Dames. Thank you for telling me that.”

The boy only seems to scoff, any of the vulnerability he’d laid bare quickly vanishing, “Do not mistake my words for praise. My mother is–”

“–definitely an interesting character,” comes a rough voice to your left, a timbre so sacred it vibrates in your very bones. Jason’s perched casually in the doorway, something of a tired smile written on his lips. Damian takes in a sharp breath, a slight judder that suggests he is not used to or particularly fond of being taken by surprise – you’d imagine there were very few people in the world that could catch the little assassin unaware.

Damian stands almost immediately, sneer evident, “Why are you in here?”

“Angry I intruded on your deep and personal moment?” Jason lets out a chuckle, edging ever closer to perch on the frame of the couch. “I’m here because this is where my pregnant fiancée is, dipshit. Scram.”

“Titus and Ace should have alerted me to your presence,” Damian bristles, “I shall need to reconsider their training–”

“Me and Ace go back to way before you,” Jason offers pointedly, reaching down to pet the dog in question who’s tail thuds against the floor in response, “and Titus knows me. I’m sorry they didn’t rip my arms off in your honour.”

“A shame for us all,” Damian’s eyes narrow as he begins to stalk towards the exit, turning to you briefly, “I find your company adequate and have enjoyed our dealings. Come and find me when you are finished with this troglodyte and we may continue.”  With a sharp whistle and the patter of paws on the woodwork, Damian, the dogs, and the cat are gone in an instant, leaving you and Jason in a silence so thick you could practically taste it.

“Listen, Jay,” you begin in a slow breath, bringing a hand up to trace against his arm, "I’m sorry for snapping, I–”

“No,” Jason begins with a click of his tongue, a sharp twist of his head to the side, “no. I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re a person, not just something to be bubble wrapped and put in a corner.”

“Well, thank you,” you mumble, deadpan, a hint of humour in your voice, “It’s nice to see after all this time you have finally recognised me as another human being.” Jason only sends a faux glare your way. “I know you were just trying to look after me and her. I was pushing myself to make a point, a stupid one at that. You were annoying and definitely went about it the wrong way, but you were right.”

Jason finally settles into the couch cushions, coming to drape an arm across your shoulders, “Friends?”

“Hm, I don’t know,” you scratch your brow with a giggle, “do friends typically impregnate the other?”

A smirk draws on Jason’s lip as he presses a kiss into your temple, a hand coming to rest gently on your stomach – a position the two of you had become intimately familiar with over the past few months, “You’re a menace. Besides, I didn’t realise you were taking mothering tips out of the Talia al Ghul playbook.”

“Hey,” you shrug, “you always talk about her pretty fondly.”

“Yes, she was a great parental figure. She looked after me, taught me all the best ways to kill people,” Jason mutters jokingly, “trained her biological kid to be an assassin – got big goals for our girl, huh?”

“Something tells me she doesn’t have to worry about murder with you in the picture,” you shove his shoulder, bringing your forehead to rest against his own. The look in his eyes is twinged with mirth, something not too far removed from your own, you can imagine.

“Oh yeah, you worry about changing diapers and all that – I’ve got murder on lock. That’s my parental responsibility.”

“Speaking of parental responsibility,” a yawn breaks its way out of your throat, wincing at a sharp kick to what feels like must be your spleen, “you got the crib set up yet?”

“Dick and Tim are on it,” Jason’s eyes are rimmed with a familiar mischief, “and by on it I mean they have no fucking clue what they’re doing.”

“You built the one in the apartment? Why don’t you just go and tell them how to do it?”

“Because then I don’t get to watch them throw things at each other with incredible accuracy, duh.”

[hcneyypuff]

[hcneyypuff]

i cant even tell you how many times ive watched this

Batman animation yayy 🙌👍

[hcneyypuff]

Wonder Woman, my wife

I need her so bad it’s not even funny

Please DC, drop a decent wonder woman movie and my life is yours 🙏🏽

[hcneyypuff]

Red Hood panel redraw!

i just cant help but make his waist so tea it’s so fun

[hcneyypuff]

I knew you before, didn't I?

- Loved creating this commission! :)

[hcneyypuff]

u just put me on

help

sighhhhhh

[hcneyypuff]

need her saur baddd

She lives rent free in my head

[hcneyypuff]

Driving lessons gone wrong