#GET OUT- /quo /ooc

[totally-not-dipper-pines]

HEY PINE TREE! DID YOU MISS ME?

No.

[shinysteph]

Is this a safe space to say I liked the bnha epilogue and didn't see anything wrong with it? 🧍🏻‍♂️it was just a fun little bonus chapter I honestly don't know why people are upset about it

Anyway I love Shouto and I hope he enjoys his bowl and chopstick making classes

[ebitenpura]

I'm sure everyone has their own interpretations of where Keeper goes and what he does after Intelligence disbands, but I always imagined he had...a farm where all his operatives that he could take with him retired to. It might've been because Dr. Lokin had a farm as well, and saying "he retired to the farm upstate" but it being literal for exiled operatives would be really funny and kind of sweet in my mind. Especially since he needs somewhere to take care of Shara, and that gave me the hint that she might not be the only one he had to look after-- Keeper's home for old dogs.

[godblooded]

honestly i think the stupidest fucking creation that ever existed is ‘the great game’ or whatever the fuck halamshiral thinks i should buy into.

[kenobers]

quid pro quo | jason todd x sionis!reader 18+

the official beginning of the jason todd x sionis!reader timeline you have an argument with your piss poor excuse of a father, only this time, it results in him draining your bank account. angry and freshly broke, you use the only logical coping mechanism; you fuck his rival's sexy son. tw: mndi 18+, problematic reader, daddy issues, oral sex, p in v sex w/ fem!reader, top!Jason, voyuerism (rooftop sex), brief daddy kink, jason is a little ooc but it's for the plot. reader doesn't know jason is red hood here. a/n: it's the prequel, baby !! quid pro quo | pride & periods | is this love? | tremble & shake | scorn to change my state

"Are you sober?"

"Am I what?"

You and Jason Todd were meant to be rivals. At least, you considered him a rival. He had never seemed to care. Granted, he was presumed dead for most of high school, taking any hope for legitimate academic competition with him. By the time he reappeared in Gotham, your father had already decided you weren't cut out to destroy anybody - although he hadn’t failed to remind you of what could’ve been the entire time Jason owned the Penguin’s hangout. 

You still hated the guy. His apparent death had killed all the worth your father saw in you. For him to have been alive this whole time was a major slap in the face. 

Secretly, you always thought your father wanted you to destroy Jason because he wished you were Jason. Was it really so fair that Bruce Wayne really had everything handed to him, including all the sons he could want. What was Roman Sionis stuck with? A squeamish daughter with no ambition, who couldn't even prove she was better than some adopted street kid.

Now you exist as more of a pet to him than anything else. Something for him to own, something he could keep leashed at his side, something he could brag about, as if he had any real pride for you. Which was why a single, sham threat to change your last name was enough to have your personal bank account closed.

Well, if you don't need daddy's name, you don't need his money either. It's just a lesson in responsibility.

Yeah, right. Like he wasn't going to find a way to keep you from making money of your own.

But, you could still prove your ownership over yourself. After several minutes of staring blankly at the wall when you realized your father hadn’t been bluffing, you dug to the bottom of your laundry to locate the cherry colored dress that got you into anywhere for free. You weren’t sure what it was you were aiming to accomplish, but the damn dress was going to ensure you didn’t need the Sionis money or name to get what you wanted. Your feet moved with a mind of their own right into your favorite bar, right into the perfect tall, dark and handsome ride. 

You hadn’t recognized him at first. You hadn’t seen him in person in God knows how long, not since you were 15, probably. There was nothing special about his jeans, Mickey Thompson t-shirt and leather jacket. He didn’t look like a prince with the lazy way he slouched against the counter at the far end of the bar. From the entrance, his face blended in with all the others, unremarkable and unimpressive. Until the slight tug of his upper lip suddenly had you back in freshman year English, pouting as the teacher praised your would-be rival’s take on Romeo & Juliet. 

Finally, a six-foot-something, Wayne branded plot began to formulate.

Of course, now you're rolling your eyes at him. You hate having to repeat yourself, even over the loud buzzing of the bar.

"I said, 'are you sober'. You look sober. Are you?"

Jason Todd blinks, like he still doesn't quite understand the question. He straightens his posture, jostling the untouched pint of something between his middle finger and thumb.

"I-yeah, I am. Are you?"

You cross your arms, roll your eyes again and ignore the question. Obviously, you're sober.

"Do you know who I am?"

He looks you over thoughtfully. His gaze conveniently lingers on the pop of your hip and the cleavage peeking out of your ruby neckline. Exactly where you want it. You snicker; so maybe he's a little slow, but at least he doesn't seem to be blind.

"You're Sionis' kid, aren't you? It's been a hot minute," Jason leans forward a little, magically more invested in the conversation. The ginger man standing next to him pauses his attempts to woo a brunette to raise an eyebrow at you.

"My dad hates you."

He scoffs, taking a half hearted sip of his beer.

"And bears shit in the woods, what else is new?"

You don't remember him having that stupid white streak in his too-well-tousled hair. It was sexy. You hated it.

"Fuck me."

IPA dribbles down his idiotically strong chin. His mouth goes a little slack as he blinks once again, harder and longer this time.

"What?"

Ugh, again with the repetition.

"Fuck me. Have sex with me," you reiterate as nonchalantly as if you're asking him to move over.

The redhead next to him starts cackling. Jason glowers at him, shoving the drink into his hand with one arm while pulling you closer with the other. It only takes him a gentle tug to pull your chest to broad chest. He leans down so his lips brush against your ear, his crooked nose nudging the side of your head.

"Hey, you sure you're sober?"

The warmth of his breath in contrast with his mouth, still cool from his glass, sends a shiver down your spine.

"I'm dead sober."

"Okay, you see how I might doubt that given you just walked up to me and asked me to have sex with you."

You push him away and it's like pushing into a brick wall. A very muscular brick wall. "Look, Wayne-"

"Todd."

"Whatever. Even if I wanted to drink, I couldn't because my father drained my entire bank account."

Jason tilts his head, causing a lock of white hair to fall across his crooked nose. 

"And why'd he do that?"

You hum amiably, curling your pretty maroon nails around his thick forearm. 

"I'll tell you if you fuck me," you promise, batting your eyelashes as you place your other hand over his heart. Much to your frustration, his heartbeat is slow and steady. His sharp face has lost its earlier shock. He looks at ease, pleasantly entertained, with a slight smirk and a cocked slitted eyebrow. 

"I think that's called extortion, baby girl."

"It's only extortion if I'm threatening you," you snap back. You should know, your father's an expert in it. You take a small breath, smoothing out your tone again, "I'm just keeping my business to myself. So, I'd call this more of a quid pro quo."

"It's a quid pro quo if I'm getting something substantial out of it," he says this but at the same time, two large hands are sliding over your hips with a featherlight touch. His nails briefly press into your skin. 

Something in your belly tightens. Maybe he’s a more worthy opponent than you’d initially assumed. 

You tip your head up as you stand on your tiptoes and sneak your much smaller hands under his jacket, brushing up his warm sides. He sucks in a sharp breath. 

"If you really had no desire to fuck me, this conversation would've ended by now,” your voice is dripping in something venomously sweet. “And I'm not going to claim I have any idea of what's happening in your own business, but if I had to take a wild guess as to who in this room has the most to gain from fucking Roman Sionis' daughter, you'd be at the top of the list. Even if it's just for the bragging rights."

"You should know you’re worth more than just bragging rights, princess,” he says, rolling a fold of your dress between his fingers with a condescending shake of his head. You wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from underneath. 

"Prove it."

"...and you're sure you're sober?"

"Wanna test my breath?"

He snorts at your bad line, but his index and thumb are already caging your chin between them. He considers you for one more moment, then kisses you.

You can taste the single sip of beer, but it’s not as strong as the fading taste of a cigarette. His lips move against yours with intent, as if seeking out a falter in your sobriety. Their search comes up empty, leaving behind nothing but a thin string of spit and the overwhelming desire for more of him.

"What's your plan then? Risk it in a bathroom stall?"

You loath how utterly girlish the grin on your lips is.

"Nah, I know a spot upstairs."

***

"You're freaky, you know that?” Jason teases as you push open the roof access. 

"The cameras up here have a delay. My dad's people won't be able to snitch until tomorrow morning, so we have all the time in the world,” you smirk at the way his eyes bug out, tugging on the collar of his jacket with a sly wink. “Don’t worry. The cameras don’t pick up anything that happens on the ground. Plausible deniability.” 

He gestures to the roof set-up. The ledge comes up high enough to hide from peeping neighbors, but a string of yellow Christmas lights keeps the spot well illuminated.

"Yeah? And what about other prying eyes? You aren't worried Batman's gonna show up and scold us for public indecency?” 

The mental image is funnier than you let him think. You give him an amused little hum as you press yourself against his chest, walking two fingers up his ridiculously prominent bicep. 

"Hmm, technically this is private property and besides, this is Red Hood's territory."

"Red Hood? You really are freaky.” 

His lips are twinged ruby from being a human breathalyzer. A thin sheen of your lip gloss reflects the warm light surrounding you. Little scars decorate his hard face like freckles. You trace over a recent nick under his eye. 

"Please fuck me, Jason.” 

His arms are still at his side. His fingers twitch, either from anticipation or anxiety. 

"You're sure you want this?"

"Fucking positive. Do you?"

The green of his eyes are shadowed by his hooded eyes. His unflinching gaze is locked in on you. There’s a weight to it that seems to put pressures on all the right places. 

"Oh, fuck yeah, I do."

He doesn’t stop to think this time before he kisses you. It’s harder than earlier, his hands roaming your body. He had his moment to explore your cherry flavored mouth, now he’s taking what he wants. What you both want. 

There’s no shared breath between you as you suck on his bottom lip, ensuring your lip gloss is smeared everywhere. A large hand snakes its way up your spine to grip the back of your head. You gasp as fingernails dig into your scalp and Jason takes advantage of your parted lips to run his tongue over yours. 

You rack your nails over his stomach, catching the muscular grooves of his abdomen to make his shudder. You flatten your palm to sneak it downwards when he retaliates by grazing over your tailbone. You quiver under his touch, feeling that obnoxious smirk on his face. 

“Tell me,” he pants between wet smacks, “if”, smack, “if anything’s”, smack smack, “too much.” 

This gives you pause. What a chivalrous sentiment from a man who’s about to ram his cock into you on the dirty ground of a bar rooftop where Red Hood might see just to trifle with your father. Actually, you weren’t sure anyone had offered you that sentiment before. It has you rubbing your thighs together. 

Something unmistakable and hard pokes your belly as your hips meet. His tongue feels along the ridges of your lips before licking between them, once again filling your mouth with him. 

Cigarettes have never tasted so good. 

The arm around your waist slides to fill his free hand with your ass. You alarm yourself by letting out a muffled moan when he squeezes. He’s going to make a mess of you much quicker than anticipated. 

It’s just because the cameras are picking this part up, you think to yourself, I’m still in charge, Jason Todd isn’t going to get the best of-

Your thoughts are interrupted by the hand on your ass rounding your hip. Two fingers play with the hem of your short dress and pull the skirt up to reveal the skimpy thong underneath. Jason finally pries himself away from your mouth to get a good look, letting out a low whistle as he admires the coordinating colors. 

“You’re so organized, aren’t you?” He croons in a much gruffer voice than he’s been using. The rough pads of his fingers knead circles into your thigh, making you keen. “Daddy must really be stressin’ you out, baby girl. You’re so tight, need to unwind…” 

You let out a little breath as the hand on your head moves to cup your chin. Jason’s lips are satisfyingly swollen and a rash of scarlet has started to spread across his cheeks, although it’s nothing compared to the heat rising in yours. The fingers at your thigh skim inward, ghosting over the elastic of your underwear. 

“This alright?”

Later you’ll curse yourself for not saying something snarkier or dirtier, for not grabbing the outline of his cock and reminding him whose idea this was…but right now, there’s nothing in the world you want more than for this man to touch your pussy. 

You nod, “Please, Jason-”

“Please, what?”

Oh, this fucker with his little smug expression. 

“Please…Please touch me, Jason.” 

Although every time you say his name, his chest tightens up beneath your palms. 

He cups your sex, feeling along the thinning string keeping you covered. Your eyes widen as you realize it’s clinging to your lower lips. His index and middle fingers are cold against the thin fabric of your thong. It's a sharp juxtaposition from his hot breath on your lips, then your jaw, then your neck. 

Dagger-like canines whet the skin of your throat. The tip of his tongue drags a straight line down your jugular while the tips of his fingers trace circles over your flimsy underwear.

“So wet,” Jason lets out a pleased hum, snapping the string with a thawk to make you jolt. “And in these pathetic excuse for panties? I wouldn’t be surprised if you left something behind in the bar.” 

Your natural instinct is to retort, but you don’t have a chance to get a word in before he’s pushing the flimsy fabric aside and swiping his middle finger through your slit. 

“Daddy makes you mad and the first thing you do is parade yourself around with your fucking pussy out. You just went out looking for trouble, didn’t you.” 

“Nuh-ah-uh,” you protest weakly, gripping his shoulders for support. He’s massaging your lower lips with false mercy. “Wasn’t looking for anything until I-ah-until-ahh-til I saw you.”

His canine bites down as his thumb presses your clit like it’s a button. Two fingers slip inside you with an embarrassing amount of ease and you whine as they scissor you open. 

“You really know what you’re doing,” you huff, a half hearted attempt at a joke. He pauses, as if he’s surprised to hear you say that. His fingers freeze up inside you, then start to pump in and out carefully - cautiously even.

“Maybe that’s just what you needed, hmm,” he muses into your skin, planting another wave of kisses along your jawline. “Someone who knows what he’s doing to help you loosen up.” 

He’s straining painfully against you. It seems unfair to let him do all the work when he’s also begging to be fucked to shreds. You reach for his cock, only for his fingers to retract from your cunt and curl around your wrist. 

You whine, both at the sudden lack of him inside you and your foiled attempts to gain some control. Your knees nearly buckle as he removes his arms all together to shrug off his jacket. But he merely tuts, “None of that, princess. Why don’t you lay back down? I think the cameras got enough.” 

Well, fuck it. You told him to treat you like a trophy, no point in confusing the man now. 

He drapes his jacket on the ground before twining his arms around your waist and shoulders to lower you down on top of it. The inside is surprisingly soft against the exposed parts of your back. 

“You just gotta let me take care of you, baby,” Jason coos, gently grabbing your ankles to move your legs apart. He takes his sweet time dragging your panties off, letting each callous on his hands hit your smooth thighs. “Look at that pretty fuckin’ pussy. You’re gonna taste so fuckin’ sweet.” 

Taste?

“What’re you-”

“Shh, trust me,” he says, coming up to kiss you. He pushes your dress up to your waist, stopping to rub your hip affectionately. “You’re gonna be glad I did this. We can stop if you get uncomfortable.” 

He kisses either thigh as he dips his head between your legs, his black hair tickling your skin. You suck in a breath of anticipation, but he steals it when he places an open mouth kiss on your slit. 

You crane your head to look at him. Not a single other person has done this to you before. You were beginning to think it was just some sort of myth, but the way Jason licks from your hole to your clit with a blistering, flat tongue is suddenly very real - and very good. 

He blows a harsh breath on your clit before delving back into your cunt. He licks his way into you, filling you with a new strange, wet sensation. His tongue is hot on your already burning core and you think you might melt into a puddle. You bite your lip, but it’s not enough to stop the pathetic cries that come out of you as Jason Todd, your alleged nemesis who never paid you any mind, the son of the dull pain in your father’s ass, eats you out. 

The sound is obscene and loud, masking your soft pants. The wet noise echoes off the high walls of the ledge while Jason works your cunt with a stupid amount of precision. His mouth is sloppy, engulfing you whole. But, his tongue is tactical, taking its time to draw out a map of all the places that make you moan and squirm. 

“Oh God, oh God!” You cry out, your hands flying to grab a fistful of black and white hair as he laps at you. His arms hook around your knees to yank you closer. He’s unreal, unrelenting in his dining. When he switches to deliver kitten licks to your clit, two fingers take his tongue’s place in your hole. 

You buck upwards as his fingers curl inside you, easily stroking at that sweet spot just out of reach of your own fingers. His free arm pins your twitching hips down, and that’s when you officially relinquish all control to him. 

“Jason, ahhh” you groan, every muscle and nerve in your body quaking. “Jason, I’m gonna…please let me…”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He sucks down on your button, letting his teeth graze the nerves in just the right way to send that unforgiving twinge up to your belly until it whites out your vision. Your orgasm floods his face, but he keeps licking until it stops. Only then does he pull away, giving you a shit eating grin dripping in more than just lip gloss and beer.  

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl, asking so nicely. And so damn sensitive, it’s cute.”

Your heart races at being called a good girl. You should be spent already, but something about the fact that he made you cum in only ten minutes makes you want even more. 

He rises to his knees and you stare at him in awe as his body towers over you, blocking out anything but the hungry gleam of his eyes, the carnivorous bite of his lip, the mounting sweat of his skin. Anything but him. 

The lights glow gold behind him, crowing your own personal Apollo with his halo. His pupils are blown out, but his stare hasn’t lost its cool. You, on the other hand, are trembling beneath him, your pussy clenching at the sound of his zipper coming undone. 

Your eyes bug out to match the size of the cock he pulls from his jeans. It’s stiff as it fills his grasp, already leaking into his palm. He grins proudly at your awe. 

“See why I wanted to warm you up, pretty girl?”

The adrenaline of the moment gives you the strength to sit up and press your worshipful lips to the ruddy head, revealing in the way it twitches. The remnants of your lip gloss add to its shine. Jason mixes it with his spit as he spreads it across his veiny flesh.  

“You’re a God, Jason Todd.” 

He bends down to reward your praise with a kiss, a briny tang replacing the burn of tobacco. Your hands come up to caress his jaw before dropping to his shoulders, proactively digging into his t-shirt. Your lips pull away from his to connect to his neck, repaying him for the bruises he decorated you with earlier. 

He hums in pleasure, tipping his head to give you better access. He smears your lipgloss residue onto his hand and lubes his cock with a Lime Crime Wet Cherry and spit cocktail. 

You’re so wrapped up in leaving a toothy imprint in the junction of his neck that you miss the hard switch in his expression. You yelp as he grips your thighs and hooks them over his hips, pinning you beneath him. Your torso flies back, but he reflexively catches your head before it can smack against the concrete. 

He continues to cradle you, steadying himself as he drags his tip along your slit excruciatingly slow. He tuts and taps your clit when you bite back a moan. 

“Don’t hold back now, beautiful,” he taunts, prodding your entrance with his blunt head. “What’s the matter, worried Red Hood might hear you?”

You try to grind against him and snarl when he pulls his cock away, “Don’t fucking tease me, jackass.” 

Jason slaps his cock against you, then rests it on your belly. He lets out an amused scoff, “Wasn’t I a God thirty seconds ago?”

“Forgot to mention I’m an atheist.” 

You cross your arms like you aren’t flat on your back with your legs up, but no poker face can hide the desperate squirm of your hips. 

The bastard shakes his head and the weight of him shifts over your gut, “You just can’t help being a brat, can you? And to think, you were being such a good girl f’me.” 

“Only because you were being nice-”

“I can be nice again, sweetheart,” his voice is low as he spits out the pet name. “But you gotta be patient.” 

“I wasn’t raised to be particularly- AH!” 

The head of his cock bullies its way past your labia and sits at the ready. You can already feel yourself stretching to accommodate him. It’s just the tip and it’s already bigger than anything you’ve ever had. 

“You ready?” He whispers. You nod with a strained whine, but it’s not enough for him. “Take a breath, I gotta hear your voice, pretty girl.”

“I-”

Your heart pounds so fast, it stops for the split second that those sharp greens irises soften. His thumb rubs a circle behind your ear. 

“Yeah,” you suck in one last breath. “I’m ready.” 

“Just - hmm - Just tell me if you need me to stop.” 

Your mouth falls open as he starts to push in. When you first saw his size, you had expected it to sting. But instead of sharp pain, he fills you with an instant and, based on the snail’s pace he’s moving at, neverending pressure. 

“Oh, baby…Oh, that’s it, that’s it, nice and slow.” 

It’s so much. It’s so good. Every bump and groove makes itself known as he buries himself inch by inch, rubbing against you. 

"Fuck, you have a big cock," you groan, letting your head fall back on his jacket. He has the audacity to snort as he sinks the rest of himself into you, until his hips finally grate against yours.

The hand holding your head slips out from under you and pulls down the strap of your dress. Your already stiff nipple becomes absolutely statuesque when it meets the night air. 

"Yeah? Well, you got a big fuckin' attitude, asking a man you barely know to come fuck you on a rooftop. You do this a lot?"

The edge of a callous catches your nipple. 

"No! Just f'you!" You squeak with a jolt. 

The callous turns into an entire paw, squeezing your entire breast harshly. You push upwards into the base of his palm, brushing your nipple against the defined lines. 

"Just for me? Just had to have me?"

Jason leans in closer, so you can feel each hot strained exhale.

"Had to have you!"

There’s little more than a hair between your noses. That big strong hand finds its way to your throat. 

"No one else pisses off your daddy as much?"

You have no explanation for what slipped out of you next. 

In your entire sexual experience, you had refused to speak them. And more determined men than this one had tried to squeeze it out of you. 

But something about the hand on your throat and the breath on your lips had you shouting, 

"You're my daddy!” 

Something flashes in his eyes and for a moment, you’re worried you fucked up. He freezes up. His face falls blank and his mouth goes taut as he considers your words. The hand supporting his weight jerks next to your head while you pant anxiously. You get the sense that this is a first for him too. 

Then he lets out a breathless laugh. 

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right, baby. I'm your daddy.”

He pulls out of you without warning or sympathy. Your hips chase his blindly, your hole weeping for his cock to come back. He sits back on his knees and hauls your ass over his thighs, spreading you open on his wide lap. 

"You holding on tight, baby?”

You waste no time securing fistfuls of his shirt, the white logo distorting in your clutch. He lines himself up to your entrance again, brushing the sweat off your brow. 

"You tell me if it's too much, yeah?"

“Of course, daddy.” 

He grins, his sharp canines glinting. “Good girl.” 

He abandons his slow and steady routine to shove himself into you. He so graciously gives you a moment to re-welcome him with a little squeeze before he’s pounding into you, ramming in and out of you at an unforgiving pace. 

You make a valiant attempt to move with him. Really, you do. But the man is actively reducing you to a huffing and puffing ragdoll. The angle he has you at leaves you nowhere to go but the end of his cock. You want to say something, to egg him on, however all that tumbles out of your gaping mouth is a series of choked uhs and ahs. 

That is until he hits a spot you didn’t even know existed and you let out an honest to God scream. In your defense, the speed at which he fucks you is utterly inhuman. If you didn't know better, you'd think it was Superman taking his fill of you.

He slows, moving just enough to rub up against that sensitive point. He revels in the way your legs crush his sides, your trembling knees digging into his ribs. 

“Oh, that feels good, doesn’t it, baby,” he groans. He plunges in as deep as he can go, lifting your hips like you’re made of clouds. Something in you pinches and burns as you open up even more for him.  

He readjusts you with a grunt and sets a new brutal rhythm; fucking you fast and hard, then easing up when he strokes something that makes you shudder.

“Pretty girl,” he mutters, “Good girl…so good…so so fuckin’ good…”

Like clockwork, you gasp every time he slows down and drags his cock in or out of you. He lets you feel every minute detail, graciously allowing you to appreciate what he's giving you, before he's striking every sweet spot like lightning again.

“Come on, let Red Hood hear you.” 

White, red and gold flashes before your eyes. Your mouth falls open dumbly as you cry out for your former woud-be-rival. Although there was ecstasy exploding from your core to your belly, the best feeling was him gasping your name in turn. 

He pulls out of you just as he finishes, your name still falling from his swollen lips. With a heave of his chest, he rolls off of you and lands with a thump at your side. You pant together, waiting for the stars to pause their dancing. 

“Gonna tell me why your dad took your dough now?” He finally puffs out. 

“Fuck, I don’t even remember,” you laugh hoarsely. Jason snaps his head up to look at you. Dumbfounded is an adorable look on him. 

“So you lure me into making a sextape for you, then conveniently forget your end of the bargain?”

“It’s not my fault you fucked my brains out,” you shrug as you sit up. You take an agonizing moment to stretch so you can enjoy the glare on his face. “Why do you wanna know so badly anyway?”

He sits up next to you, running a hand through his thoroughly tousled hair, “I’m gonna need another deal if you want me to start revealing my secrets.” 

Jason Todd’s a quick thinker, you have to give him that. You consider him, consider the possibility of extending this hook-up into a full fledged thing. There has to be more to gain than lose. If you play your cards right, maybe you can beat your father to destroying the Wayne legacy. Or…maybe you can get your revenge by weaving yourself into it. Either way, you’ll ensure you come out on top. 

“Tell you what,” you say, standing up and trying to ignore the way your legs shake. “I’m free tomorrow night. Do that thing with your tongue again and it might jog my memory. I’ll do something with my tongue and see if that doesn’t inspire you to share.” 

He scoffs, “You’re a little business mongrel, y’know that?” You roll your eyes, but extend your hand out to help him up. He looks at your hand for a moment, narrowing his eyes. Then he accepts it, cautiously wrapping his large hand around your smaller one like he’s handling a snake. “No more rooftops,” he decides. “And no more up close cameras.” 

You nod, “Fair. But I’m not calling you daddy again either. That was a one time thing.” 

Jason laughs. It’s just a short bark, but it’s genuine. “No problem. It’s not really my thing either. I just appreciated its dramatics for tonight’s purposes.” 

The corners of your lips twitch upwards. 

“So…We have a deal?”

He gives your hand a firm shake, although it doesn’t betray the suspicion in those unnerving green eyes. 

“I think you said it best yourself, princess. I think we have a quid pro quo.” 

Something heavy settles in your chest like a weighted blanket as you shake his hand. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, it’s just that you sense Jason Todd is going to be around for a long time. And you’re going to get everything you can out of him. 

[telephoniii]

HEARTSHAPED CHOCOLATES

☆彡 in which you gift jamil a valentine and things get complicated

jamil viper x gn!reader

word counter: 3.1K

warnings: reader is prefect, possible ooc, miscommunication (kinda), descriptions of servitude

a/n: i wrote this at 2AM but i think it's really cute. i’m definitely biased because jamil is my favorite and i do NOT have any valentines this year whatsoever 😭

i hope you enjoy!! :>

Jamil wiped down the counter with a frustrated sigh. Kalim had, once again, gone behind his word and threw a last-minute party. One that Jamil had to do a majority of the work for. And now here he was, cleaning up after the incompetent boy.

Nothing he wasn't used to, but upsetting nonetheless. Though, he supposed that he’d be lying to himself if he claimed it was the only reason he felt bitter. His eyes flickered toward a calendar that hung on the kitchen wall of Scarabia.

Tomorrow, it’d officially be Valentine's Day.

Now, most NRC students were as single as could be for a variety of reasons— being a celebrity, focusing on grades, etc. Jamil fell under the category of being too busy. So many, much more important matters were always fighting for his attention. And a lot of them are related to Kalim in some way or form.

Being a destined servant to the Al Asim household wasn't an ideal situation. Plain and simple. Especially when it came to romantic relationships.

In middle school, young Jamil had a few girls he was interested in. However, all hopes of those crushes blooming into anything more died when they witnessed Jamil and his family bowing down to Kalim.

It's difficult to explain his role to his peers. Of course, the older he got the easier it became. But for most of his childhood, it was extremely embarrassing to have to say that he was to devote his life to serving the Al Asim family forever.

It was humiliating, giving leeway for others his age to look down on him. Now it wasn't just Kalim who he was lesser than. It was everyone. And it was hardly fair. Jamil was smarter than all of them combined.

He caught on to things quickly and was easily adaptable. When learning magic, his movement was calculated and precise. Yet, because of his last name, the respect he deserved was never given… Needless to say, he never pursued any more crushes.

By the time he was enrolled in NRC, romance no longer seemed plausible for his lifestyle. He wouldn't be able to devote so much time to another person other than Kalim anyway. That man-child can barely do anything on his own to save his life.

Jamil was convinced he’d spend the rest of his youth alone, only really finding a potential partner once he was free from the chains of servitude.

…And then you showed up at NRC.

You and your stupid soft eyes; that genuine empathy you carried on your sleeve. It's idiotic, really. You were bound to get taken advantage of in a school like this. Against his better judgment, Jamil felt drawn to you.

Despite being magicless and from a whole other world, you seemed to understand and empathize with his struggles better than those he had grown up with. And you weren't just all bark, no bite. You helped out a lot.

Many can just say that they feel sorry for Jamil, yet stand idly by as he served Kalim. You, however, saw him through his overblot. Instead of moving on, you forced him to communicate with Kalim about how he was feeling. It would've been so easy to fall back into the status quo, yet you stayed and improved his life for the better.

He’ll never quite get how one person could leave such a big impact.

You eased his worries about servitude. Being around you was naturally calming. It didn't feel like he had to babysit when he spent time with you. In fact, he felt as though he was learning new things— about both himself and others— every day with you.

The feeling scared him to his soul.

It was terrifying to be this addicted to another person’s presence. He wasn't used to having someone to look forward to: someone he wanted to be around all the time.

Jamil didn't know whether or not to pursue you. The last thing he wanted was to drag you into more of his messes… however, you seemed to frequently do that yourself, choosing to be involved for his sake. He was truly infatuated.

Despite it all, he refused to make a move.

You weren't from this world and all too soon he was sure you’d find a way back to where you were meant to be. It’d be selfish of him to pursue you, trapping you in a place you didn't belong. He knows the feeling of being trapped all too well after all.

There were no telltale signs you’d be interested in him back anyway. You were friendly with all and close to many. Who’s to say one of those fancy princes or endearingly dumb freshmen isn’t the one who’s captured your heart?

He purposely doesn't stand out, unlike some other students. Jamil assumed this put him at a natural disadvantage.

Assumed being the keyword.

Of course you, always breaking his expectations, had to crumble his thoughts by gifting him chocolates.

~

“Jamil?”

His eyes moved from his textbook to you in a second. He raised a brow as he watched you stare at him with an unrecognizable glint in your eyes. “Did you need help with something, Prefect?”

Those words made you perk up, grounding you back in reality. “No! No. I’m fine. Just…”

Clearing your throat, you put down your pencil. The homework in front of you was long forgotten as you focused your attention mainly on Jamil— much to his confusion.

“Do… Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day?” You cautiously asked, looking at him intently.

He furrowed his brows at the question, thinking it over. “Kalim will most definitely want to throw a party for the occasion. I'll be in charge of the decorations, cooking, and— well, everything as per usual.”

Jamil answered truthfully, not seeing much of a reason not to. Yet, he felt like he answered wrong as his eyes met your deflated gaze.

“Got it… Yeah, that makes sense…”

Before he could invite you to the party— you’re one of the only people he’d happily cook for— you messily started scouring through your bag.

He observed you curiously, mentally noting that he should help you clean out your backpack sometime. I mean, the amount of loose papers you have in there is absurd—

“Here.”

His mind goes quiet as you pull out a small, heart-shaped box and slide it toward him. Jamil looks at you like you are crazy, making you chuckle.

“I was hoping to give it to you on Valentine's Day, if you're busy then, I’d rather do it now and save you the trouble.” How thoughtful of you… His shock was transparent as he struggled to form words.

You didn't know whether or not to take that positively or negatively.

“Uhh—” It was awkward, the air was tense as you swiftly stood up. You flashed him a nervous smile. “I should go check up on Grim… Good seeing you?”

Jamil had never felt more scatterbrained. So many thoughts racing at once. Yet so little came out of his mouth.

“Good seeing you too, Prefect.”

~

He never did invite you, did he?

Jamil sighs at his ridiculousness. In the back of his mind, he tried to justify it.

The party wouldn't be ideal for you to come to anyway, he’d be working the majority of the time. He doubts you’d enjoy yourself. It might be awkward for you to even come after that exchange.

However, deep down, he knew he should've said something. Anything. Instead, he just let you leave with unsure thoughts.

Jamil didn't want to leave this be. He wanted to make it right. But with so little time, he was stuck.

~

Valentines arrived unreasonably fast, causing him to frown. The students of Scarabia could sense something was wrong, but no one had the guts. Well, no one except…

“Jamil? Are you mad?” Kalim innocently asked.

Although you made Jamil talk out a lot of his issues with Kalim, the white-haired boy’s voice still irked him to his soul.

“No. What makes you say that?” The Viper responded, keeping his tone neutral and calm.

Nonetheless, Kalim squinted at him with a pout.

“Is this about the Prefect?”

He nearly choked on his spit. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you guys like each other, right? Did you fight over something? Aww, I’m sorry if an argument broke out right before Valentine's.”

Jamil shook his head with an annoyed scoff, giving Kalim an unamused look.

“No, what—? Rewind. What makes you think we like each other?”

Kalim tilted his head like a lost puppy. It only served to frustrate Jamil further.

“Is it not obvious? You’re way happier around them than anyone else!”

Not that anyone pointed it out, but Jamil would undoubtedly deny the way his cheeks heated up at that statement.

“We’re not seeing each other romantically. Neither do we think of one another that way…”

He regretted letting his sentence trail and thinking aloud. Whenever it came to you, he was much less organized than he liked.

“…Well, sort of.” Although he merely mumbled these three words, that was all it took for Kalim to spring up ecstatically.

“Oh! So you like them but you haven't confessed? You can do it at today's party! I’ll invite them right now!” “What! No— Kalim, slow down!”

Jamil had to physically grab the other hot by his shoulders to keep him from bouncing away.

“I'm not ‘confessing’ at this party today, or any time soon.”

That lost puppy looked returned to Kalim’s face. Although he had seen it a few minutes ago, it still pissed him off all the same.

“Why not?”

Because he didn't know how to; plain and simple. Jamil for sure didn't want to have his ‘confession’ be too big. He’d hate for himself to come off as ingenuine to you.

Not to mention, Kalim and his antics have more or less ruined any big, dramatic gestures for him. Jamil can't help but find them corny and tacky now.

However, he didn't want to do something too small. A simple note won’t cut it for him. You deserve more. What exactly that entailed, he didn't know.

“Because I don’t want to.” Jamil unenthusiastically answered. He cut off Kalim before he could speak up. “No more questions.”

Not wanting to entertain this conversation any longer, Jamil walked away. Right. He had other, more pressing matters to worry about. Party preparations.

Food, decorations, music, lighting…

Damn it, why won’t you leave his mind?

~

The party, thankfully, went smoothly. Guests were enjoying themselves, there was enough food for everyone, and Kalim was too distracted by a few people to bother him. Letting out a relieved sigh, Jamil leaned against the wall behind him. His eyes wandered around as he started people-watching.

It was important to stay alert when it came to the people at these parties. He had to make sure no one had harmful intentions towards the young Al Asim. Though, as he should've expected, there were many couples here tonight.

Seems like a lot of Scarabian students brought their off-campus lovers here. Jamil can only hope Crowley doesn't chastise them too harshly for doing so.

He perks up as a slow song plays over the party. The lights are adjusted to dim and soon enough, practically everyone was on the dance floor. Couples, friends, strangers, talking stages— you name it.

It’s no surprise Jamil seemed drawn to the dance aspect of this part of the night. Even if he tried to hide it at times, his passion for the art of dancing always had its way of shining through. He glanced through the crowd to see if there was anyone without a partner.

Thankfully for him, it wasn't too hard to spot someone. These types of parties were always bound to have a few wallflowers. As he made his way through the crowd toward the one he had his eye on, he couldn't help but hear a couple of voices over the music.

“Ace, you little—!” That was all Jamil could make out before he felt a person suddenly collide with him. It didn't hurt or anything, and Jamil had enough sense to gauge it was most likely a mistake—

“Uh, hi.”

He didn't expect to turn around and be met with the sight of you. An embarrassed look sat upon your face as you fidgeted with the ends of your clothes.

“Hey.” Jamil curtly replied.

You gave him that stupid little smile of yours that made his heart race. A hopeful hum left your lips.

“Are you busy?”

He couldn't help but chuckle in response, giving his genuine answer.

“Nope.” He stuck his hand out, pretending that his mind wasn't going fuzzy from being in your presence. “May I have this dance?”

He felt you place your hand on top of his.

“Of course.”

With your permission, he let one hand fall to your waist as he gently guided you in a waltz-like manner. He was more experienced than you, precisely moving as the two of you dance.

You couldn't help but feel endeared. Jamil was pretty from close up. Unfortunately— or fortunately— he caught you staring. He gave you an amused look in response.

However, he didn't expect you to abruptly frown and glance away.

‘You couldn't get your hopes up,’ Your mind reminded you, recalling his reaction to your gift. It was for the better you don't get too attached.

Jamil seemed disheartened by the disconnect. His hand on your waist lightly tightened. Shortly after, a mischievous grin found its way on his face.

Suddenly, Jamil’s movement quickened. You gave him a confused raise of the brow.

“Jamil—?”

He doesn't give you time to finish your thought as he spins you, swiftly catching you in his arms afterward. Taken by surprise, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you.

You've never seen Jamil look more proud of himself as he gave you that smug little smile of his. He barely gave you time to react before he was moving the two of you again.

What you didn't expect was for him to dip you so, so low. Instinctively, you squealed. Your arms clung onto him for dear life.

“Jamil—!”

He let out a laugh at your reaction. “What? It's not like I’m going to drop you or anything.”

Your grip tightened after hearing those words. “Great sevens— you better not drop me!”

He playfully rolled his eyes. Jamil leaned in closer, his voice taking a lower tone as he whispered, “You trust me, Prefect, don’t you?”

You didn't respond to that, instead letting your small glance to the side paired with an embarrassed expression speak for itself.

In the next few steps, he taught you some more advanced footwork. He couldn't help but admire the way you’d smile as you caught onto it quickly. Jamil then spun you once more, this time it was less abrupt.

Prepared, you were able to smoothly go along with it. The boy let out an impressed hum, giving you a satisfied look. His eyes practically told you what he had planned next. Another dip.

The dip was more nerve-wracking than the spin. However, Jamil didn't intend to dip you as low as he did before— thankfully.

Your hold on him still tightened like it did before as he dipped you. Unlike before, Jamil let the pose and moment linger.

You’d gaze up at him, admiring the determined glint in his eyes. The way his hair naturally fell, framing his face, was just the cherry on top.

Oh, and how could you forget those breathtaking lips of his...

His thoughts were eerily similar to yours, taking in your features before letting his eyes roam over your lips. Jamil leaned closer, bringing his face mere inches from yours.

You swung your arms around his neck, making it easier for him to get closer… and closer… and…

Just as the two of you closed your eyes, about to connect, you hear the slow music turn to an upbeat, party song. Next thing you know, you felt your body swiftly being pulled up.

One moment, you and Jamil were so close, the next he was acting as though you were toxic. His hands left your hips as he cleared his throat.

It looked like he was planning on saying something before a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

“Jamil! Come dance with me!” The two of you both heard the young Al Asim shout.

You frowned. Right. He’s busy tonight with duties and whatnot. Although you felt disappointed, you gave him a tired smile and nod.

Jamil’s brows were furrowed, his eyes flickering between you and the direction Kalim’s voice came from.

Tonight seemed full of surprises as Jamil’d hand shoots out to your forearm and hurriedly guided you outside in the opposite direction of Kalim.

You were in shock as he pulled you outside, shutting the door behind him with a sigh.

“…You’re not gonna—?” “If anyone asks, you were nauseous from dancing and went outside with me for fresh air.”

Jamil was dead serious as he spoke, looking at you for confirmation. You nodded your head.

“Uh, got it.”

Silence soon filled the atmosphere between the two of you, the only sound being from the night’s wind. It was oddly tense. You were the first one to break the quiet.

“I’m sorry.” Jamil’s gaze immediately snapped up to yours, narrowing in confusion.

“Sorry?” He repeated, looking for clarification.

You fidgeted with the ends of your clothes. “Sorry for the chocolates. That was probably uncomfortable for you since that kinda gift is usually reserved for couples and all…”

Jamil’s expression softened the more you talked.

“Don’t be. It was a lovely gift.” His hands slowly make their way to yours, gently holding you.

“I reacted the way I did because…” Jamil sucked in a hesitant breath. “…Well, you’ve made me feel things. Feelings that I thought I was incapable of feeling.”

He carefully pulled you closer to him, allowing you to back away if you wanted to. You didn't. You just stared back into his gaze as he continued.

“Around you, I feel unburdened by my responsibilities. I feel… alive.” If you maneuvered your hand right, you could feel his pulse practically beating out of his body.

“I adore you like no other. When I received those chocolates, my mind melted. You… you turn me into such a mess.” He lightly scoffed with a small shake of the head. You can't help but chuckle.

“Nonetheless,” He gave your hands a gentle squeeze. You squeezed back.

“I’d never wish this feeling away. Never in a million years.”

Jamil’s hands momentarily left yours as he fiddled with his jacket. He was looking for something…?

“Although it’s long overdue,”

After a few moments, Jamil pulls out a small, red rose. You recognize it as a part of the decor from the party. He slips it into your hand effortlessly, his eyes staying on yours.

“Will you be my Valentine?”

[jinjeriffic]

DPxDC and OOC

I've had a couple of posts cross my dash recently where people lament that a lot of the dpxdc fandom writes characters very OOC and how we're proliferating these characterizations among each other. I figured I'd add my own two cents.

I think the fundamental discrepancy comes from trying to reconcile two canons with vastly different tones.

Danny Phantom is a comedy superhero show operating on cartoon logic. Why do ghost experts Jack and Maddie never realize their own kid is a ghost? Why is the status quo restored at the end of every episode? Why does Danny shoot an ectoblast out of his butt that one time? Because it's funny. It's cartoony action fun where the plot is resolved in 22 minutes, there's never any lasting consequences and it's aimed at kids.

DC meanwhile wants to be taken Seriously. Heroes get beaten within an inch of their life, traumatized, killed and even the good guys do messed up things (often to each other). Yes there's action and puns, but also horrific violence, actions have consequences and it's (mostly) aimed at adults. When a main character dies the comics show their family and friends mourning and things are very dramatic. Even though at this point we, the audience can pretty much expect every death to be undone within 2-5 years of publishing, but I digress.

So how do we, the fanfic/fanart creators reconcile these differences when we make our crossovers? We either make DP more serious and somber, or we make DC more comedic.

Suddenly we have a DP verse where the Fentons' bumbling obliviousness is elevated to serious neglect or outright abuse. The GiW are no longer a minor annoyance, they are a serious threat with genocidal plans and a desire to vivisect the protagonist. When actions have consequences, we imagine Danny as dealing with serious PTSD from having to be a solo superhero and witnessing his family's death that one time (and maybe also getting vivisected). Danny is not just a teen superhero, he's now the Ghost King with serious responsibility on his shoulders.

On the flipside, if we make DC more comedic we tend to exaggerate character traits for comedic effect, focus more on the interpersonal dynamics (especially the Batfam) and have the characters act more casual and silly. Suddenly the Batfam goes from a group of seriously messed up individuals who have trouble communicating with each other and fight all the time to Batdad "Kids if you don't stop killing criminals you won't get dessert ffs" Bruce. Violence is played for laughs instead of taken seriously. Yeah they fight, but they still Love Each Other.

And THIS IS PERFECTLY FINE. It's transformative work! And trying to reconcile these disparate fandoms is hard! Fandom is a labor of love. We do it for free. We do it for our own entertainment. And no one is forcing you to read fics you don't like. DLDR and all that.

[femmesday-addams]

okay do we get that the point of langdon saying robby was talking to cartoon animals isn't that it was mean (people say mean things in fights, and we've seen him be mean all day so it's not ooc), or that he's lashing out and trying to distract from his own issues by shining a light on someone else's to preserve his status quo (normal addict behavior), but that it's an attempt to weaponize robby's completely understandable mental health issues (which do not interfere with his ability to practice medicine or lead a team and actually make him a better attending because his PTSD and experience with the associated emotional triggers make him more sensitive to giving his team breaks when they, too, are overwhelmed/triggered/Goin' Thru It) to delegitimize him before he files a report on langdon? if robby is Crazy, if robby is Unreliable, if Everyone Knows He Can't Hack It, him saying "langdon stole drugs from patients" will be questioned in ways it wouldn't be based on his actual reputation and behavior. furthermore, if he thinks his team doesn't trust him because of his PTSD, that's going to fuck with him as a leader, and we've seen him be a good leader all day in no small part by being attuned to and empathetic with his team. the consequences of that are bigger than just hurting robby's feelings in a fight, and the dramatic ripples have the potential to be fucking huge. that's the point of that scene, of that writing choice. we get that, right?????

[behindthesoul]

Sex With Bi-Han

Masterlist || not proofread || gender-neutral

I am so sorry for being dead for so long lmfao. I’m back and I decided to write about Bi-Han since I’ve been obsessing over him recently. These are my headcanons for sex with Bi-Han. I’ll probably make this concept a series (and also as mini guides when I write smut lol) if people are interested. Alsooooo sorry if these are too OOC, this is just always how I’ve seen Bi-Han. This is also pretty ramble-y

Bi-Han prefers to be on top. He just feels the most comfortable if he can control the pace. He also enjoys seeing how much his partner trusts him, allowing him to guide the two in pleasure. Bi-Han isn’t opposed to giving up control, or taking a more ‘50/50’ approach, but it won’t happen immediately. Some time passes before Bi-Han feels comfortable with switching up the status-quo his mind established.

He doesn’t have a favorite position. Not in the sense that he has zero preference, he’s never thought about what he likes…he’s more of a ‘doer’? Idk if that makes sense. He tends to stick to missionary because that’s what he’s used to. Bi-Han also likes being able to look into his partner’s eyes while he moves in and out of them.

Noise level? Bi-Han is quiet, almost completely silent. He’s too focused on the moment, on making his partner and himself feel that he forgets to…actually feel good. His partner will have to remind him to relax, that at this moment he is Bi-Han, not Grandmaster. Then he’ll slowly melt into his lover’s body, allowing himself to grunt and groan freely.

Subtle touches really get Bi-Han going. He’ll tense up if he feels his partner is touching him “too much.” Not because he’s uncomfortable, he’s just not used to it. Bi-Han appreciates it when his partner starts with gentle, teasing touches to build the tension. He goes crazy when his partner gently drags their nails across this body, it’ll make him groan louder than normal.

Length??? Bi-Han is probably 6 1/2 – 7 inches, decent girth. Nothing crazy, sorry 10in lovers. He’s a little veiny and a bit more sensitive down there than most. Handjobs are okay in his book, blowjobs are lovely, but he prefers to make himself useful by burying himself inside his love (or having them inside of him).

Decently thick load; Bi-Han cums for a while and always gives his partner a thick load. His eyes flutter shut and his brows press together. His breath is shaky while he catches his breath. Strands of sweat-slick hair stick to his damp face – he’s a beautiful sight.

—

“You’re doing it again,” they pull off Bi-Han with a quiet pop. Their hand gives Bi-Han’s dick a few gentle pumps before they swallow his length again, their tongue sliding across a sensitive vein. They hold his balls in their hand, slowly fondling them as their tongue continues its journey.

Bi-Han doesn’t respond immediately; he focuses on relaxing his (surprisingly) tense body, allowing for waves of pleasure to wash over him. His mind goes fuzzy when a particularly harsh suck sends him closer to the edge. His dick throbs, his hands find purchase in the bedsheets below him, his eyes press shut, and his eyebrows furrow. His partner takes him deeper in their mouth – they know he’s close.

Bi-Han ascends to the heavens with a soft groan, hoping the gods will accept him.

[elitesheepi]

It’s pretty sad that the Stormverine relationship in the comics just go…unaddressed. Like they’re dating in the 2013(I think) Storm run, they have some pages together showing their relationship. Cut to the next issue he’s dead due to him losing his healing factor, Storm has to be flown into space just to grieve without setting the world on fire, and then…. Nothing.

Assuming I got the order, Hunt for Wolverine: Mystery in Madripoor happens, and we get this cover:

But there’s more focus on Betsy/Psychlock and the only Wolverine relationship is the past one he had with Domino. Storm get a single panel sequence, no mention of their previous relationship, nothing. Hell she’s incapacitated for much of it along with Rogue but still wtf.

So then he’s brought back and then….nothing. Like no mention no, anything. Maybe it’s in an issue I haven’t read yet but the fact that their relationship just goes unacknowledged and forgotten is so sad to me. Like we get pockets chances of something so good for both of them, a break away from the status quo

And yeah, it’s marvel comics that just what happens, anytime a characters happy they reset the whole damn universe for one bs reason or another. (One More Day, you sonuvabitch, we ain’t forget) but they are capable of changing the status quo but just won’t. Rogue and Gambit were able to get married and stay married up until now, so it’s not impossible.

In that same breath, I’m not asking for them to get married and have kids and all that, I’m really not. Hell I’m not even exactly asking for them to restart their relationship just yet enough, though I really do want that. All I’m asking is for like some more acknowledgement that they did date and how that effected them.

It isn’t like they broke up, Logan died. Like died-died, could’ve stay dead dead. Storm eventually had to move on cause that’s just the nature of grief, but beforehand she was handling his unfinished business. That’s not breakup behavior, that’s “I’m a widow in mourning of my partner” behavior.

So X of Swords teased them again, and the Storm (2024) run has then full on have sex before she leaves again. Which yknow awesome and we finally get a hint of their previous relationship by her calling him her “old lover.” Which again, nice, but man salt in the wound with her saying she regrets her actions when yeah, ouch and why tho? They’ve been implied to have slept together in the past a few times so idk.

I’m rambling/ranting at this point, but all I’m trying to get at is, they’re a cute relationship but the lack of attention the x-office is giving them really bites. I want someone to just bite the bullet and commit to writing them. It can be done, and it can be done well without centering just Logan, sidelining Storm or making either of them OOC, but it really needs to start with just pointing out what they once were and starting from their. Idk man ⚡️

[sploopyghost]

I like salt fics but i feel like some of them get blown out of proportion. I get it it's exaggerated but for some i feel like the characters are too ooc. It's fanfiction so you can make them however you want but i feel like there is a way to have a salt fic without the characters being unrecognizable

Alya is always a one of the biggest supporters of lila in salt fics but she also somehow turns into an attack dog. I get Alya took Lila's side without questioning it and easily brushed off Marinette but to an extent it kind of makes sense . Marinette is a very jealous person and always seemed to jump to conclusions when it came to Adrien. I feel like if you wanted to write Alya without making her too ooc you could lean more into her flaws of always seeming to brush Marinette off and not hearing her out without proof but never demanding proof from Lila. Alya is stubborn and would be even more so when she feels like she's right unless she's proven otherwise. For Alya to know that she's wrong it would have to be spelled out for her or the consequences would have to hit her in the face. She could start losing followers on her blog after all just because Marinette's friends blindly believe Lila doesn't mean everyone else would. They would immediately see through the already flimsy story Lila told and how stupid it is for her to be telling everyone that she has a connection to ladybug. You could write that Alya doesn't check the comments at first too excited about the number of views and instead checks it months later when her views and followers start going down. After the interview with Lila people would start to look into her while also going back to older videos Alya's made. People would eventually start to get fed up with how she presents theories as facts or just never fact check anything

Nino is someone who is easy going and goes with the flow which can be good but it can also be a bad thing. If you're too easy going and ok with going along with everyone else you'll eventually be caught up in something bad. Nino can be written as someone like this, who goes along with the majority because it's easier. Unintentionally he would choose to side with the Alya and the rest of the class about Lila even if he knows something doesn't add up or not hearing Marinette out and her side of the story is wrong. But with everyone believing Lila it would be easier to go along with everyone else until things smooth over even when he feels guilty about it

Adrien in salt fics is uncaring of Marinette's feelings and wants to keep the status quo even if that means throwing Marinette under the bus. While Adrien is naive and has no spine he still cares about his friends but he does turn a blind eye to their misdeeds and their flaws. You could write how he often excuses Chloe's behavior even when she's being mean towards them in front of him. The class would start keeping him at arms length not necessarily cutting ties with him but not spending as much time with him. They don't want him to choose between them and Chloe they just want him to stop making excuses for her and taking her side when she's in the wrong, because lets be real would you want to be friends with someone who always defends and excuses their other friends behavior when their being shitty towards you

Marinette salt is rare and there isn't really much of it, but if you wanted to write a salt fic about her you could lean into her obsessive and stalker behavior. For example the episode where she works together with Chloe to sabotage Kagami, you can write the consequences of her action for that episode. It's an event with plenty of famous people and as a result cameras. Aside from that there are a lot of people there so why wouldn't someone see what her and Chloe were doing. Someone could record what they were doing and recognize that they were going after Kagami someone who is influential. They would upload the video and it would immediately go viral. People easily recognize Chloe and already know about her history of bullying and her attachment to Adrien, so it's no surprise that she would harass the girl he's with. However no one recognizes the girl with Chloe, until people start commenting about how they go to school with her. They comment about her behavior and how she frequently does weird things to get close to Adrien and talks about the future that she's going to have with him. Afterall Marinette does a lot of these things in view of people. This would not only effect Marinette and her reputation but also her parents and the people around her since people would ask how they didn't notice her behavior earlier

[hxzbinwrites]

Yayyy! Vox was who I wanted to make a request for so I was thinking what if female reader is an overlord who deals with weapons that can kill sinners and hellborn. Maybe she is also an owner of a nightclub? maybe she died in the 1920s and she knew Alastor as well and maybe she’s had a crush on him but he’s not interested in her so then she goes and she dates Vox but then she catches him positioned with Val and she doesn’t know the extent how Valentino is abusing Vox so then fast forward 7 years later and they meet again because she’s helping Alastor and of course that makes Vox jealous and angry and Vox just wants her back and he’ll do anything to show her that he changed and he just wants her back. And maybe he explains how Val treated him and then a happy ending heheh. 🤭 I love your stories. Also maybe reader is badass and is like doesn’t need a man because she got herself but she also loves when Vox protects her? Kinda like that song on TikTok from Olivia Rodrigo that goes “I’m a feminist obviously but I wouldn’t really mind him saving me”

Vox x Fem! Overlord! Weapons Dealer! Reader | Stayed Gone

(A/n): IM BACCKKKK!!! Sorry this is kind rushed, but it was a really fun write!!! I’m promise I’ll get working on more requests but i’m gonna take it easy to slide back into writing after my little break! Thank you to all of those who supported me through this!! ❤️❤️

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Vox is OOC, Cheating, Violence, Short (sorry :( )

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” (Y/n) said, throwing a wine glass across the room, particularly aiming at the TV who was caught in the act with a certain moth.

“(Y/n), babe, ‘ts not what it looks like I swear-“

“Oh really?” She said, a venomous lilt in her voice,”cause right now it looks like you’re getting screwed by your little business partner? Huh? Am I not right on the money sugar? Oh, but where’s that little sarcastic buzzer now?!”

Vox slipped his pants on, zipping up his fly while trying to walk towards (Y/n)

“I swear, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m..this isn’t…we’re not…”

“Save it.” She said,”This, us, is over. Our business deal is over. And if you even try to negotiate or give me some shitty excuse, this little turf you have will belong to my empire and become my next factory.”

Vox was left, standing here, shirt off and wrinkled pants on, watching as the love of his life took the bare necessities and walked out of his life, all while Valentino watched and smirked at the sight.

—————

7 Years Later

“THAT FUCKER IS BACK!!” Vox screamed, his fists slamming down on the table. A month before (Y/n) walked out, the infamous Radio Demon went MIA, and has now returned to the scene, alongside the Princess of Hell, Charlie Morningstar.

“Yeah” Valentino said, in a sultry voice,”I thought he was gone for good too”

“It’s been seven years!” Vox huffed, turning away from the screen, missing a very crucial person who just walked outside to scope the situation of the attack on the hotel.

“You still pissed he almost beat you that time, right before your little angel walked out~?” Valentino teased, rubbing Vox’s digital cheek on his screen, causing a squeegee noise to be emitted

“Uh, fuck you!”

“Just saying!”

“Things have changed a lot since they both left town!”

“That’s for sure”

“I gotta send a message to who’s, really in charge of things now!!”

“Welcome home, I’m gonna make you wish that you’d stayed gone! Say hello, to a new status quo. Everyone knows that there’s a brand new dawn, turn the TV ON!!!”

“Top of the hour, and we’re discussing a certain ‘has-been’ who has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence! Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight’s program!”

“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why’s he hanging around? What does that mean for your family? Well handily I’ve got good news, he’s a loser, a fossil, and I don’t mean to sound hostile, but the demon is a coward!”

“You can take that as gospel! Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I’m visual, he’s barely audible! Stop giving him the time of day, don’t listen to a word he’d say! I hope he had a nice vacay, but he should’ve STAYED AWAY!”

“While he rid in radio, we’ve pivoted to video! Now his medium is getting bloody rare!! Hell’s been better since he split! Where’s he been? Who gives a shit!”

“Salutations! Good to be back on the air~!” A familiar, static filled voice responded.

“Yes I know it’s been a while, since someone with style, treated Hell to a proper broadcast. Sinners rejoice!-“

“What a dated voice!-“

“Instead of a clout-chasing, mediocre video podcast-“

“C’mon!”

“Is Vox insecure? Perusing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?”

“Ignore his chirping!”

“Everyday he’s got a new format!”

“You’re looking at the future, he’s the shit that comes before that!”

“Is Vox as strong as he purports? Or is it based on his support? He’d be powerless without the other Vees!”

“Oh please!”

“And here’s the sugar on the cream, he asked me to join his team! I said no, stole his girl, and now he’s pissy, that’s the tea!”

“WHAT?! YOU OLD-TIMEY P-PRICK, ILL SHOW YOU SUF-UF-FFERING!!!!”

“Uh oh, looks like the TV is buffering” A new voice said, mocking Vox’s breakdown. Except it wasn’t a “new” voice, it was (Y/n). (Y/n), with Alastor, at the Hazbin Hotel.”

“ILL DESTROY-Y YOUUUUUU”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost your signal” Alastor said, taking the mic back before finishing his number.

“Let’s begin~”

“I’m gonna make you wish that I’d stayed gone! Tune on in! When I’m done, your status quo will know it’s race is run! Oh this will be fun!”

Vox could hear Alastor laughing alongside (Y/n) in the background, as his monitors start to flash “no signal”

“FUCK!” He whines

————

The gang was all downstairs, Charlie explaining what tomorrows fun activity would be when a loud banging was heard on the door.

“A NEW GUEST!!” Charlie squealed, stars in her pupils, as she ran to go open the door, only to be met with a very tall TV Overlord.

Alastor’s antlers shot out of his head while (Y/n)‘s weapons were at the ready.

“I come with no harm!” Vox said, raising his hands, before locking eyes with (Y/n). His digital eyes made little heart pupils before blinking them away, embarrassed.

“(Y/n)…” he breathlessly said,”I-I know you hate me…but please, I-“

“Save it Vox.”

“I wish I could explain to you that night, or even today, but I can’t! This….deal has my lips sealed shut my love-I mean (Y/n). I-I just…I cannot explain myself with this contract I have.”

“Wait” Angel Dust said,”You’re Valentino’s little situationship, right?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it….”

“Wait….oh shit” Angel said, walking over to him,”I…I know what it’s like…”

“I know…I see you around his studio…I’m not above owning souls, I have my own, but to work with him…? I’d…..I’d free you all in a heartbeat….”

“Vox?” (Y/n) said,”are you in some sort of deal with Val over your…body.”

Vox could only look at her, not able to give her any conformation.

“Oh Vox…I…I didn’t know…I-“

“I know dear…” Vox said, smiling sadly,”but you have a erm….partner, of sorts, not your finest option but whatever, now and I wouldn’t want to intervene-“

“Oh Alastor? Me and him aren’t in a relationship” (Y/n) replied,”You know him, Mr. Ace in the Hole!”

“A what now?-“

“Ohhhhh, that…that explains so much.” Vox said, looking at the Radio Demon.

“Vox…I-I think we need to go home, talk about this in private….after I squish a bug.”

“Okay…” Vox said, holding (Y/n)‘s hand,”but what about this hotel?”

“I’ll still work here, with everyone, I believe in the cause. I just didn’t think you’d want to.”

“Maybe I can….put some ads on if you’d like-“

“YES YES YES PLEASE THANK YOU MR. VOX SIR ID REALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!” Charlie said, shaking Vox’s other hand,”IM CHARLIE!!”

Vox smiled, a genuine smile for the first time in a while,”Yeah, yeah I think I need to hang here a little more often…detox a little…”

“Good, I can’t have you stressed out too much, I just got you back.” (Y/n) said, rubbing his digital cheek affectionately,”my little trophy husband”

[concoctionboy]

I mean, the orb was me. Or was... the copy of me that you were casting curses on. I mean, I'm not totally sure to what extent the different mes are different individuals with the same personality and memories (up to the point they split) or extensions of the same individual, or whether that's really a meaningful question or just a philosophical matter, but anyway I... think spells generally only effect one me at a time?

Although this me seems to now have different-colored spots, so, uh, maybe the curse did affect this me after all, but not in the way it was supposed to. Huh. Well, at least this is a lot less annoying than the gnome speech curse.

Okay, I gknow interacting with you is likely to gnet me cursed somehow, but I also gknow you're the biggest expert on curses around, and... there' s a gnoxious curse I've been under for gnigh onto a week gnow, and I'm gnetting desperate.

So I'm under this curse of gnome speech. I can't stop speaking like a gnome, and it's gnightmarishly agnnoying. I've been hiding out because I think @jimkinnz wants to eat me (I don't really blame him; I think he kind of has gnomivorous ignstincts), but even if it weren't for that this curse is just... gnauseously gnasty.

I'll pay you to remove this curse; I'll do you a service in return; whatever. I gknow even if you do remove this curse you'll probably gnive me a different curse in response, but... at this point I'm willing to take that chance. I can't take this any longer. I gneed this curse gnone.

I Don't "Remove" Curses boy. It's like, an artist breaking a stained glass window, you get it.

But in this case it's more like an artist burning a kindergarten kid's crayon drawing. This curse is just shitty you know?

Get a gnome's red hat, a large mushroom and a marigold and burn them all with pinewood under the light of the moon. Or kill the person who cursed you. Easy solve.

[queenlyregent]

hey tumblr dot com, I haven't been active on here in a while and I've never posted about this, but I've been writing a rhaenicent fanfic and posting it to ao3, and after months of writer's block and procrastination, I finally managed to finish it (mostly because I procrastinated doing arguably much more important writing by doing so, but hey a win is a win). just wanted to mention it because I'm actually kinda proud! it's nowhere near perfect and it's still quite underedited, but it's the first fic I ever posted online so in case you're interested, here is the link and I'd love for you to check it out <3<3<3<3

(fair warning to all my rhaenicents tho, there is some light lucemond in this and I totally get if that's not your cup of tea and you'd like to steer clear hahaha)

A Kingdom For Her Grace (73077 words) by lareinavisoma

Chapters: 12/12

Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, House of the Dragon (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Alicent Hightower/Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower & Rhaenyra Targaryen, Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen & Lucerys Velaryon (Son of Rhaenyra), Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen/Lucerys Velaryon (Son of Rhaenyra), many platonic and familial relationships, canon romances also appear, but are not the focus - Relationship, basically the status quo of relationships by ep 7

Characters: Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen, Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon (Son of Rhaenyra), Otto Hightower, Larys Strong, Rhaena Targaryen (Daughter of Daemon), Jacaerys Velaryon, Baela Targaryen, Helaena Targaryen, basically the whole cast appears, (those still alive by episode 7 anyway), there will also be dragons!, Syrax | Rhaenyra Targaryen's Dragon, Arrax | Lucerys Velaryon's Dragon, Vhagar (ASoIaF), Viserys I Targaryen

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, gets fluffier as the story goes on, Lesbian Alicent Hightower, Bisexual Rhaenyra Targaryen, No Lesbians Die, Hurt/Comfort, generally pro black, but not anti green!, Everyone deserves better, Repressed Alicent Hightower, Making Up, Politics, Miscarriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, lucerys/aemond is mostly pre-slash, I tagged them to protect those who understandably do not ship them, I'm Bad At Tagging, No beta we die like Harwin Strong, Canonical Character Death, Probably ooc, they're all flawed still but more chill than in canon, Reconciliation, POV Multiple, POV Alternating, Incest, Canon Typical Incest, almost forgot to tag that one jesus what has this fandom done to me, daemon is not evil, but this is probably still not a story for daemon stans, Slow Burn

Summary:

Rhaenyra loses her daughter while still in Kingslanding to petition for her son in the Velaryon succession crisis. Exhausted, she decides to stay and care for her dying father.

Tensions run high between the different factions of the family. For the sake of their children and themselves, Rhaenyra and Alicent relearn to navigate life at court together; all the while allegiances are unclear, trust is broken and built anew.

Set during and after Episode: s01e08 The Lord of the Tides

[cringefailvox]

15, 17, 19 for the meme! Dealer’s choice! You can do the same fic for all three or you can do different ones, whichever is the most interesting. (Aka I can’t pick… you have so many tasty fics.)

15. talk about the characters' struggles & how you decided on those.

sometimes you scrape and sink so low

this fic let me dig my teeth into husk for the first (and hopefully not the last) time!! a missing scene post-ep5 because i've been thinking about the hallway scene ever since i watched it and feeling CRAZY. i earnestly believe that husk and alastor consider each other friends of a sort, even despite the soul ownership, and so this fic delves into husk struggling with the aftermath of alastor betraying him like that -- he thought he'd known the rules, known how to play the game, and here alastor goes overturning the board on him in a way he never had before. it was a profound breach in the status quo between them that leaves husk rattled and hurt. but alastor doesn't want that either; he wants husk to respect him, but he doesn't want husk to genuinely fear him, at least not in any personal sense -- being afraid of the radio demon mythos is one thing, but he truly doesn't want husk to take the hallway incident as their new normal.

i'm so endlessly fascinated by their dynamic mostly because of how ooc that scene feels. as in, neither of them are at their best: alastor is stressed and irritated out of his mind already from lucifer's presence + husk does what he does best and instantly zeroes in on someone's sorest spot to drive his point home = alastor violently lashing out at him in a way we've never seen him do before. it sucks! husk was just trying to look out for him! but we knew that conversation was never going to go well. this fic was definitely a lot of wish-fulfillment for me skjfghjkfd i really wish we'd gotten some kind of resolution with them in canon.

17. talk about the fic's ending. why did you end it where you did?

The Diving Bell

after a sweet and sappy closing scene, vaggie ends with a note of defeatism -- she'll tell charlie the truth about what she is someday, if charlie ever asks, but until then, she'll savor what she has until it's inevitably taken away from her. it's a bummer sentiment but it felt true to vaggie's character; she hates herself so deeply and so strongly that she's convinced charlie would hate her too if she knew the Truth -- the big, ugly truth at the core of her that makes her unworthy of anything but being useful to charlie. she knows it's inevitable that the truth will get out someday, but she isn't optimistic about how it'll go. so i wanted to end this fic on that feeling of mixed happiness/dread, where vaggie thinks she knows how this story will end, but intends to cherish what she has while she's allowed to keep it. girl let's get you so much therapy.

19. while editing, did you kill any darlings? what were they?

dragging its tail in the sea

i had to rewrite one section of this like three times to make it flow well and sadly had to cut this hilarious line:

it was just a touch too bitchy for the melancholy tone and i couldn't get it to connect to the rest of the scene, but man it still makes me giggle. and who knows, someday you all might get to see it given a new home in static shock since i gave bird custody

[wolfthatroamsshadows]

Have a little silly Goren/Eames fic...

Oops, did a thing. You remember the scene in S03E10 F.P.S.? The one right at the beginning with Goren and his hand on Bishop's throat? No? Here's a reminder...

Now, Bishop wasn't a fan at all. Obviously.

But my brain went in the direction of... what if he did that with Eames? Eames knows him, Eames trusts him. Eames matches his freak. Probably would just grin at him until he notices. Anyway... I wrote a short thing with that premise.

Beware for OOC-ness as this was just a small distraction while I was procrastinating fic writing while writing fic.

~~~~~

They had gone back to the victims' apartment to figure out how the scene might've played out. The evidence didn't make much sense and pointed in a few different directions things could've gone.

So, Goren and Eames found themselves standing next to the broken window through which the victims evidently fell before hitting the alley 30 feet below and dying.

They were trying to figure out how exactly two people ended up dead next to each other. Was it an accident or a murder suicide or self-defense gone wrong?

"So, how do you think it happened?" Eames asked her partner, standing in the middle of the room, with her back to the broken window.

Goren surveyed the scene for a moment before moving. "They get into a fight. The guy gets angry, raises his hand and starts strangling the girl…" He was in the guy's head, not realizing he did what he said and promptly Eames had her partner's hand on her throat. "…pushing her towards the window." He stepped forward and pushed her in the direction.

They came to a stop next to the broken window. Goren narrowed his eyes in thought and tilted his head. "No, something's not right." He noticed his hand still on Eames' throat and had a brief flashback to the last time he had had his hand on a partner's neck. Bishop had been less than pleased if he recalled correctly. He removed his hand from Eames' throat like he had been burned.

Eames just furrowed her brow in thought, seemingly not even perturbed that he had had his hand around her throat. "No, you're right. If he had wanted to kill her, only her would've been outside or strangled in this apartment. How did they both end up on the asphalt?" She blinked a few times mulling it over. "Unless…"

She grabbed his hand and put it back onto her throat. "The marks on her throat are from him. But there are shards of glass in the back of his head. So, what if she grabbed him?" Eames grabbed hold of the front of his jacket and yanked him closer to her. "They struggle, he turns his back towards the window, stumbles, and they both go out the window, because she still holds onto him." They stood close after reenacting her theory.

As her eyes flickered past him to the window to see if the theory had any merit, his flicked to the front door of the apartment where a uniform stood in the corridor unseen. Their eyes came back to each other.

Goren became acutely aware of his hand still on Eames' throat. She had put it there and was now looking up at him with trusting eyes. He swallowed hard and adjusted his hand, so it was cradling her jaw.

The tension between them ramped and spiked. Later, neither could say who had made the first move as he pulled her to him and she him to her. Their kiss was an outpouring of years of unspoken emotions.

When they parted, both were breathing heavily. An unusually shy look passed between them. An understanding that this was not just a new chapter, but they were in the deep end already. No possibility of a return to the previous status quo.

"Unfortunate accident?" She spoke quietly.

"We'll take a look at their backgrounds again, but it looks that way." He spoke equally quietly.

She unclenched her fists and smoothed out his lapels thoughtfully.

He caught her hands in his. "We good?" He stooped down to catch her eyes.

She met his eyes with a happy, content smile. "More than good."