#I'm really trying to make it so wings of fire isn't the only thing I ever post

[draconyyx]

Found this from some time ago, I really thought this looked stupid when I finished but its actually pretty good

Caramel Arrow Cookie and Financier Cookie as humans

I think I was just obsessing over financiers costume because I finally got it and Caramel Arrow is one of my favorite Cookies

[lure-of-writing]

His little Sister: I'm sorry

Summary: The mating bond between you and Azriel has been revealed and he isn't sure if any apology will ever make up for the hurt he has cause you.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: none that I know of

Authors note: Guys I just got my nails done so if there is typos it's because I'm not used to typing with daggers on my hands. But anyways that's not what we're here for. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Azriel was screwed. Royally screwed. Even as the spymaster of the night court he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one unscathed. First and foremost there was you. You were the mosting important thing in this giant mess that your cousin just caused and making sure you were ok was his first priority. That is once you inevitably get all of the hurt and betrayal out of your system. He could feel your emotions barrelling down the bond and it damn near made him crumple under the weight of your hurt. Next on the list of casualties was Rhysand. And by the look on the high lord's face it was a mixture of pure unfiltered anger and the need to protect his little sister. Azriel can’t blame him, you look like you could either rip him to shreds and bawl your eyes out while doing so.

Rationally Azriel knew that Rhys would never really do anything to hurt him but the other part knew that Rhysand played dirty when it came to his family and it was some sort of unwritten rule that he would go to the end of the world to make sure you were ok. If Rhysand played dirty before he was about to get filthy now. This would not be the first time he stepped toe to toe against a high lord, specifically against Rhys, but this time would without a doubt be different. This time Rhysand would pocket away all of the years of their friendship and in turn he would fight Azriel like a traitor. He, without trying, had broken your heart and betrayed your trust. To Rhysand this was the ultimate act of betrayal. 

Only being one hundred years younger than your brother means all three males were also relatively young in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand held your tiny body against his. The three males had taken a break forming training in the mountains to visit you in Velaris. It wasn’t often Rhysand was allowed to leave the camps, much less often for Azriel and Cassian. But with the arrival of a new babe they had been permitted to leave. It became a tradition to visit the ever growing babe once a year. Somewhere in the chaos of training for the Blood Rite you had grown into a teenager. Cassian was sprawled out on one of the couches in the cabin and Azirel had taken his place in the chair that was unofficially deemed as his. There in a seat a little bit bigger than his own but yet still smaller than the couch Cassian claimed you were curled up against your older brother, peacefully sleeping.

Rhysand had always disliked the way things were run in the camps, oftentimes they made his blood boil but something changed in him the day you were born. Rhys knew from a young age that he would be a protector. A protector of his friends, his family, his people and his court. But he never knew that the most precious thing he would come to protect was you. He never wanted in the camps, walking amongst those who would take any opportunity to clip your wings or even kill you without a second thought. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to stop your visit as your father deemed it necessary. 

Silence was light in the room. Occasionally there was a pop or crackle from the fire, the sound of clothes shifting against the couch from Cassian and the light noise of you breathing. With a heavy sigh Rhys rubbed his face causing both males to look at their friend in confusion. “Something on your mind brother?” Cassian's deep voice filled the once quiet room.  For a moment nothing was said as Rhysand just looked deep into the fire before once again sighing and rubbing his face before throwing his head back to rest on the couch. “What if I’m not capable of protecting her?” The two males looked at each other in confusion before turning their attention back on their friend. Everyone knew that the power Rhys possessed was quite frankly, insane, to put it simply. “Rhys, I think you're forgetting you are there, bud.” Once more Cassian's voice takes over the room. This time in a gentle laughter. “It’s not that I’m unaware of what I am capable of.” Rhys stops speaking as he looks down at your resting form laying against him. Gently he moves a piece of hair that had fallen in your face. “I know what I can do. What I am willing to do to keep her safe but I will not always be around to protect her and that is what I fear.”

“Being her brother is the greatest honor I have ever been given but what if I fail? What will it cost her? Just her being here possesses a threat to her life. Those males out there would not hesitate to clip her wings or flat out kill her. What happens when I am needed elsewhere and she is in trouble? Who will save her then? I know my mother is training her to fight but I never want her to be put in that position where she has to. Making sure she is safe, happy and loved is all I want for her. I never want her to experience the world we have endured.” 

Neither males have a sister but they do have the love of siblings for each other and they know the lengths they would go to for the other males. They may not know what it's like to have a sibling but they do know what it's like to love you. Since the day you were born they have done nothing but love and dote on you. If you tripped and fell and scraped your knees Cassian would scoop you up and cradle you until you stopped crying. Only then would he set you somewhere where he could properly clean the cuts littering your body and then take you for a treat to make you feel better. Azriel would help you with any of the boring assignments your mother would hand out. “I don’t even know what this means!” you would groan out in frustration before dramatically letting your head fall face first into the book. Luckly Az knew you very well. Without looking up from what he was doing he placed his hand palm up in the book and waited for the impact of your head against his hand. 

Finally once your head was in his hand, did he finally look up. “You may not understand it right now but eventually you will and you will be grateful your mother made you do this.” Groaning once more you left your head where it was. “Easy for you to say you're like a genius or something.” You grumble while Azriel lifts your head for you. Gently he pats the top of your head. “Maybe if you studied more you could be one too.” A mixture of a frustrated groan and sigh made its way through your lips causing Azriel to chuckle. 

It was safe to say that they understood what a light you are in the world. In their world. And each male would do anything to protect it. “You know we would protect her with our lives, right?” Cassian now sat up on the couch. This conversation was important. “We have known her since the day she was born. We have watched her grow and reach each millstone just like you have Rhys. We would never let anything happen to her. If it were my life or hers, I would happily give up mine. I’m sure Az feels the same way.” And Azriel did. “You don’t have to worry about her by yourself. We can share the worry Rhys. You know you can count on us. If anything ever happens to you, we will protect her just as fiercely as you do. You know that right?”  And Rhysand did in fact know that but there would always be some part of him that thinks only he will ever be able to do a good enough job at keeping you safe. 

Apparently Rhysand was right. Only he would protect you. Azriel had broken his promise and now he would pay. Next on his list of people to deal with was Morrigian. At the moment she was not a priority but eventually would be. First he needed to survive the night. 

If Azriel were to go back in time less than a week ago, he would have been more or less avoiding you. After his talk with Rhysand about the more interesting part of your relationship the shadowsinger thought it would be a good idea to give you some space, not wanting it to seem like he was trying to pursue something with you. Obviously that was the exact opposite of what he wanted but he was also keenly aware of your brother's disapproval of any male you chose to date. Azriel was sure he wouldn’t fare better than the others. On the other side Azriel truly had no idea how you would react to you being his mate and that terrified him. 

He hadn’t seen you much since the training incident with Cassian. As much as it bothered him to not be able to check on your healing himself he had Cassian right there basically giving me second by second updates. Which he did appreciate but since Cassian knew you were his brother's mate he was being a little over the top. Which is why Azriel was not expecting to see you on the rooftop for the daily morning training session. 

Az and his shadows watched from across the room as Cass ushered you back towards the house. That was until you saw him and course corrected to be right in front of him. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” The hurt in your voice made him feel like a terrible person but he also couldn’t give you the real answer why. Not right now and definitely not right here. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” He knew he was whispering but he also knew there were more listening ears then just yours, mainly Cassians. Azriel watched as Cassian scooped you up and walked back to where he was herding you, just moments before you veered off on your own. 

As the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court there wasn’t much, if anything, that made him nervous. The piercing stare of your gaze following his every move was definitely unsettling. But his male ego wouldn’t let him slip into that unflinching state of mind that he would usually find himself in when sparring. Now he was keenly aware of each move he was making while in front of you. His need to impress didn’t go unnoticed by his brother. Thankfully Cassian decided to have mercy on his soul and let him get in a few good punches as his repayment for when Cassian did the same to him while in front of Nesta. 

The daily sparring session was over sooner and also later then he wanted it to be. One part of him wanted to continue to impress you, even if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that you were even impressed in the first place. The other part of him just really wants to get the awaiting conversation over with. Azriel headed over the bench where his long forgotten shirt and water bottle had been previously placed. He had barely gotten in one drink of water when you appeared in front of him. “Why have you been avoiding me?” It was the same question that you had previously asked him before being dragged away by Cassian. And yet this time it made him even more nervous then the first time you had asked him. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was make you feel like he didn’t want to be around you. Even before the bond he wanted to be around you every chance he could get and you knew that. He needed a reason you would believe. A downfall that came with spending all of his spare time with you is that you were able to tell when he was lying better than anyone else in the inner circle. There was only one thing he could tell you that wasn’t the full truth nor a complete lie. Rhys wasn’t a fan of the relationship, or lack thereof, between the two of us and he needed to step back in respect for Rhysand. 

Thankfully the mother was on his side that morning because you believed him. 

Opening up his arms in a form of some peace offering he’s quickly wrapped in your arms. Even though hugging anyone who was sweaty was something that he knew drove you crazy you did it anyways and it warmed his heart. But watching you place your chin on top of his chest just about made his heart melt. He prayed that you wouldn’t be able to feel or hear just how fast his heart is beating, and it is not from the training. 

Oh how Azriel wished he could go back in time to just a few days ago. Hell he would even go back to when he was avoiding you. Truthfully anything would be better than what was currently unraveling in front of him. 

“How long have you known?” Azriel tore his eyes away from Morr to look at you. The look of heartbreak that painted your face was like a suckerpunch to his gut. He took a sharp breath in. You were always stunning in Azriels eyes but looking at you now was like looking like a fallen angel. As much as the poetic beauty was undeniable he also never wanted to see that look on your face again. He would do anything to make you trust him again. 

“I-” Azriel didn’t realize just how dry his throat was until he tried speaking. Actually now that he was focused on his body he was pretty sure he felt like he was going to throw up. Swallowing he takes another deep breath. A quick glance to his right reveals Rhysand with a raised eyebrow and barely contained anger. “I’ve known since the war.” Azriel always imagined this moment would be very different. Just the two of you in private. And it would finally feel like a brick being lifted off of his chest. 

But watching your reaction to his confession felt like the opposite. He watched as you blew out a heavy breath and grabbed the back of Morrigians chair for support. Looking at the look he watches a tear finally free itself and makes its way to the ground. Just as quickly as the first tear had fallen the rest had also followed suit. He watches as you shake your head and look at your brother for the answer of what you are supposed to do. The dining room had never been as quiet as it was in these waking moments and Azriel despised it. Even if he was the cause of it. “You’ve known for almost a year and you never told me?” The spymaster watched as you fought against the lump in your throat only for your voice to crack on the last word. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me continue to dream about the love I desired. Let me think I was never going to get the love Rhys and Fey have? You’ve known for months!”  Azriel sat unmoving as your betrayal turned to sadness and then anger. You had never raised your voice and yelled at him before but he knew he deserved every ounce of anger you threw at him. “You-you out of all people knew how I felt about mates and yet you held this from me. My mate! I-I-I -oh my god.” Time seemed to slow down in that moment as he watched you grab your chest in pain then collapse to the floor. He felt himself rise. Azriel wasn’t sure why, was it to move to the other side of the table and comfort you? Was it in shock? Fear for your breaking heart? He wasn’t sure. It was like slow motion as Mor swiftly twisted out of her seat and caught your limp body on the way down to the floor. Together the two females sat on the floor. Morrigian had wrapped her arms around your body and held you pressed against her chest as you sobbed. 

“Azriel!” That was the commanding voice of a high lord. The force of which Rhysand said his name and allowed his power to wash over him was the only thing capable of pulling his focus off of your crumpled body. Looking back to his right he notes that Rhysand has pushed the chair he was previously sitting in far behind him. It didn’t go unnoticed how Feyre made her way to you with urgency. The primal anger and need to protect his family also didn’t go unnoticed by the shadowsinger. He was about to get his ass beat. If not altogether killed. Rhysand may have been mad at Cassian for hurting you but he did go easy on him, even if it resulted in a few nasty bruises littering his body. Azriel knew for sure this would be nothing like that time. Rhysand had a look of death in his eyes and Azriel was sure death was waiting to greet him. 

“Uh oh. Yeah you guys may want to get out of here it's about to get ugly.” Cassian also stood from where he was once seated and began stretching. Noting Feyres' worry Cassian continued “Don’t worry I won’t let them hurt each other too much.” He paused, “Well I won’t let them kill each other.” 

Only after everyone except Mor and Cassian had winnowed away his Rhysand lunge at Azriel. 

Ever since learning that you were his mate one of his shadows followed you religiously. He never even told them to do that, it was just something they did naturally. His shadows always were ones to keep an eye on you even if you were completely safe. 

That's how he found himself in front of the river house. His shadows danced around him in warning of the two females sitting in the living room still awake at this hour. Without looking at a clock Azriel would assume it was around three in the morning. Gently he pushes the hard oak door open only closing it after allowing himself inside the quiet house.  Azriel knew he could make his way to your room without either one of the females knowing but he assumed it was better to get everything that could tear him apart over with while he was down. 

“I feel bad for her. I know what it's like when the other person knows they're your mate and you're left in the dark. But this is something else. If Mor hadn’t said anything would he?” He could hear the voice of his concerned high lady. “Do we know if she even still has a mate? Rhysand looked like he was going to kill him.” Nestas' voice that usually dripped in sarcasm was dry as bone. Stepping into the room he made his footsteps louder than he would ever step to announce his presence. A sharp gasp was the only noise that Feyre made as she brought her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh my gods” The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor pulls his gaze from the spot on the floor he found particularly interesting to see Feyre making her way over to him. Over her shoulder he could see Nesta taking inventory of the damage Rhysand caused. “Are you ok?” He shrugs off her question but allows her gentle hands to move his head from side to side.

“How is she?” Everybody knew who he was talking about. Feyre led him to the couch ushering him to sit down as Nesta answered “As well as you can expect.” Feyre had stepped out of the room to grab a pain relieving tonic “She just fell asleep a few minutes before you got here” she pushes the vial into his hands “Drink” she insists. “I never meant for it to go like this. For it to get this far without me telling her. I just was waiting for her to feel it herself but then I just kept waiting and waiting and waiting and the next thing I knew I was sitting at that table listening to Mor tell her. I promise I never meant to hurt her. You know that right? You have to believe me.” The constant throbbing throughout his body finally forced him to drink the tonic in hopes it could even touch the pain he was feeling. “I’m sure you never meant for this to happen az. But why didn’t you just tell her. Anyone with eyes could see that she already had feelings for you.’’

“I wanted it to be her choice. I would never force her to accept the bond. All I want is for her to be happy no matter what.” A heavy sigh fell from both females before the peaceful silence filled the room. Nesta was the first to leave in hopes of getting at least an hour of sleep before she needed to be awake for training. With a gentle squeeze of his arm Feyre stands above him “I Believe you Az. But you need to understand how hurt she is currently feeling.” looking up he sees not his high lady or Rhysands mate but a concerned friend. “I know I can feel it through the bond.” Feyre smiles sadly before stopping in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go be with her Az. You both need it.”

The warmth of the fire was the first thing Azriel noticed upon entering your room. Although fae ran warmer than humans you were the rare exception. Unless absorbing heat from the sun or another person you were on average at least ten degrees colder than anyone else. A small smile found its away to his face to see the fire going. His own personal relationship with fire may be nonexistent but for you he would endure it a hundred times over. The next thing he noticed was your sniffling and quiet sobs. In three large strides he was kneeing besides your bed. “Y/n” you name was like a whisper of a prayer in a silent coven meant for worship. He watched as your eyes opened to meet his and listened as a sob racked your body. “I am so sorry baby” Quickly he raised from where he was previously knelt on the floor and climbed into bed with you. The move to place your body on top of his was easy but listening to the silent cries of your heart breaking wasn’t. “I never meant to hurt you I swear.” 

Eventually the tears raining upon his chest and was replaced with the gentle breathing of your sleeping form. Azriel knew he should sleep but he couldn’t help but admire every part of you just in case this was the last time he  got to hold you like this. That's why he wasn’t startled when Rhysand barged into your room, startling you awake. “I told you to stay away from her. I’m going to kill you.” He promised. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of your brother as you raised to sit in between his legs. Rhysand could do whatever he wished but Azriel wouldn’t leave without making sure you were ok first. “Rhys don’t. You may be mad at him, but Azriel is my mate.” The bond had never sung in happiness like it did basking in the warmth of your acknowledgement.

Taglist

@kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend

@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22

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@olive-main @mariahoedt @tele86 @marina468 @fangirlloza010 @kennedy-brooke

[allisluv]

i literally need some heavy angst like injected into my veins rn

could you make a finnick x reader fic where she was unable to be rescued when the arena broke and later he sees her on tv like how katniss saw peeta? no worries if you can’t <:-)

lots of love!!

god.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!victor reader

content warnings: existential crisis, pre-established relationship, katniss and finnick friendship, reader has been taken by the capitol, implied torture, finnick's mental health issues.

word count: 0.6k

author's note: there will (eventually) be a part two that follows on from another request :)

Finnick has never had strong opinions in whether or not a God exists. He doesn't know if he believes that when you die, you go to this good, beautiful place called heaven. He doesn't know if he believes that you don't, either.

What he does know is that he doesn't think it's fair to judge if people will spend their afterlife condemned to this so-called hell based solely on their mistakes.

All of these thoughts have never really bothered him. He didn't find it particularly interesting or necessary to spend his free time having an existential crisis.

But ever since The Quarter Quell ended three weeks ago and he has been confined to this dimly lit hospital room, he can not stop himself from wondering if the outcome would have been different if maybe he had believed in God.

Maybe if he had prayed more, the rebels would have gotten to you in time.

Maybe if he had went to church, he wouldn't be sitting here on his own, without you.

And maybe, just maybe, if he hadn't done so many awful things, this wouldn't be God's way of taking out their anger on the two of you.

Ever since The Capitol took you, Finnick has not had a solid grasp on how much time passes. He isn't entirely sure how long he sits in that hospital bed, wallowing in his thoughts. He only knows that Katniss is the one to pull him from his thoughts.

Her lips are pulled into a tight line and her eyes are tired, lacking the usual fire that gave her her name. "Are you coming for dinner?"

Finnick gives a silent shake of his head.

Katniss rolls her eyes and grabs his arm, roughly yanking him out of bed and onto unsteady feet. "I wasn't really asking." She gestures to a pair of slippers on the floor. "Put them on. If I have to sit through one more of Gale's rants about Peeta, Im going to put a bullet through my head."

Finnick's lips twitch ever so slightly. He knows that the medical staff would put her back on watch if they caught her saying that, but he's glad that she isn't walking around on eggshells around him, scared to put a foot out of line and send him into hysterics again.

Katniss gives him a poke with her foot. "Go on. Put them on already. I'm hungry."

With a heavy sigh, Finnick pushes his feet into the slippers and pulls on another robe to keep himself warm. He's just glad he doesn't have to wear District Thirteen's standard uniform; he supposes that being in the hospital wing does have it's perks from time to time.

Katniss practically drags him to the dining hall and stands by his side as they queue up for dinner. She doesn't try making small talk, and he offers her a grateful smile as they turn to find a seat.

Finnick's sea-green eyes scan the dining hall, and eventually flicker to the television screens that are slowly coming to life. His brows furrow and the breath is punched out of his lungs when he sees that it is a Capitol issued broadcast.

One that has you front and centre.

His tray falls to the floor with a loud clatter and he ends up moving on auto-pilot towards the nearest television screen. People scramble out of his way as if he's dangerous, and while that would normally hurt his feelings, he's too caught up watching your face.

"You're alive," Finnick mumbles under his breath.

Your face is hollow, with cheeks that have sunk in and your eyes are bloodshot and cold as you stare down Caesar Flickerman. He can't help but feel a spark of pride in his chest as Caesar tries to interview you, and you point-blank refuse to acknowledge his presence.

That's his girl.

The pride slowly fizzles out when he sees you being dragged out of the frame by two Peacekeepers, and it's quickly replaced with a fear that makes his blood run cold.

And then your screaming starts.

[sanguineterrain]

Hi again 😊 You suggested i could send another prompt, sooo… maybe you & Jason have been together awhile, and you’re kidnapped by (choose your villain) and Jason is worried and frantic but trying to not show it of course, and negotiating for your safety? Ends up rescuing you of course, in whichever way you prefer, and then they find comfort in each-other 💗

I haven’t had time or energy to work on my WIP lately so this is very lovely and gratifying 😂👌🏻💗

aghh that's the worst! wishing you luck on your wip!! i'm glad you like these <3 requests are open for jason, dick, and MAWS!clark kent btw!

this one is very batfam focused hehehe. ft dramatic ass jason and his surprise kidnapped fiancé lol.

jason todd x gn!reader. tw: violence, kidnapped reader, reader is pushed off a building for a moment but they're okay dw <3, batfam feels, jason being a protective bf, bruce being a GOOD DAD! c:

****

"Actually, if we're being honest, if anyone has the most trauma in this family, it's—"

Batman grunts. "Really, Spoiler, not now."

The comm line crackles as Stephanie sniffs. "Fine. Stay in denial."

"Bats."

Every bat and bird in Gotham goes still.

"Hood?" Barbara asks carefully, already tracking his comm link.

"Oracle," he says, clipped. "I'm gonna get right to it: I need a favor. Can you help? Yes or no."

"Little Wing, where have you been?" Dick asks. "We've all—"

"Shut up, Nightwing," Jason growls. "Either you help me or not. Which is it?"

"We'll help you, Hood," Bruce says, voice washing over Jason like a balm.

Jason takes a deep breath. It's okay. He'll find you. Batman always beats the bad guys.

He fiddles with his jacket zipper. Moments tick by. Dick remains crouched on a rooftop. Damian is similarly poised.

"My..." Jason swallows. "My... fiancé's been taken."

The comm explodes with noise. Jason winces and digs the bud out of his ear for several seconds.

"Fiancé?!"

"You're getting married—"

"When was this—"

"Who are—"

"Enough," Jason growls, finally shoving the bud back into his ear. "I don't have fucking time for this. Yes, I am engaged, and they've been taken. No more questions."

"Tt. You are engaged? Impossible. Batman, clearly someone has hacked the line pretending to be Hood," Damian says, folding his arms.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, demon bird, I found someone crazy enough to marry me."

"Little Wing, I—I'm really proud of—"

"Shut up!" Jason pinches the bridge of his nose. This was a bad idea. You're in trouble, and Jason intends to tear Gotham apart to find you, but involving his family? Has he really stooped so low...

Deep breath. His focus is you. You're the only person that matters.

"Look, I'm telling you because Oracle's tracking me anyway, and B would snoop until he figured out who I'm really looking for, so it's easier to just tell you. But make no mistake: you aren't my family, and you won't see us again after tonight."

Bruce's throat tightens. His cape flutters in the wind.

"Very well," he says after a couple beats. "Last known location?"

"I'm sending you the address now. I've retraced my steps a hundred times though, and I can't—" Jason grits his teeth. He can't tear up or break things, not again. "Fuck. I can't fucking find them, B. I... I don't know if-if maybe I'm too late—"

"You're not," Dick says automatically. "We'll find them, Little Wing. We'll bring them home."

****

Your head is on fire.

It feels like there's a thousand needles pelting your skull. Whatever you were drugged with, it's hard stuff, and it hasn't worn away yet.

You look up; you're gagged and tied to some kind of support beam. As your vision clears, you see that you're in one of the new high rise-in-progress. Only the skeleton of the building has been completed because if Bruce Wayne isn't involved, construction takes forever to complete.

Faintly, you recall Jason mentioning something about a construction company leaving half finished projects across the country and using them as havens for criminal activities.

Yeah. This is not good.

"Where the fuck is he?" The voice echoes across the concrete floor foundation.

"Mike, we sent—"

"I don't give a fuck what you did; obviously, you screwed up! He's not coming!"

You close your eyes, trying not to throw up on your gag. Your head spins when you open your eyes again.

Who's not coming? Your rescuer? Or somebody worse than your kidnappers?

You try to take a deep breath, but your chest tightens instead.

"Fine," Mike barks in the adjacent room. "If that hooded psychopath doesn't show up, we'll just dump this one. That'll send a message. Prepare the explosives."

A door swings open, and you flinch. You cower, shrinking from the figure.

"You better hope he shows," the guy growls, and cocks his gun. "Your boyfriend is the only reason you're still alive. It'll be such fun to watch him fall to his death, don't you think?"

You try not to show your swelling panic. How does he know about you and Jason? And you have to warn him. Explosives. Jason's walking straight into a trap, without backup, because you know he'll be alone. He always works alone.

Mike sneers and waves the gun around.

"Oh, yeah. I know your secrets. In bed with Gotham's biggest crime lord. You must be his favorite. I can see why."

"Mike!" someone shouts. "We got company!"

Mike's eyes blaze cruelly. "Showtime. You're coming with me."

You thrash as hard as you can because if there's one thing Jason taught you, it's to always fight back.

Mike backhands you hard enough to send you sprawling. Your hands are bound, so you can't catch yourself, and you hit your head on the concrete. Blood pools in your gums.

"Try that shit again, bitch," he snarls, and hefts you up.

He drags you up a flight of stairs. Your head throbs, and now your jaw aches. You're too dizzy to try to fight back again.

You end up on the roof, which is a miasma of beams and wooden lattices. Wind cuts through your face, and you close your eyes so they don't water.

"Hood!" Mike crows. "Wonderful of you to join us!"

"Wish I could say the same," Jason says, and your heart leaps at the sound of his voice.

You start to shout through your gag because you have to warn him. It's a trap, he'll kill you both—

Mike wraps his arm around your throat and squeezes. Air stops, and you choke on your cries.

"I'll kill you," Jason snarls, and you know he wants to say more, but he's trying to protect you. "Let them go and maybe I won't break every bone in your body."

"Oh, don't worry. You two will be reunited soon. What is it they say? Love blinds you?"

"Michael Cassidy," a new voice says, deep and deadly. "Let go of the hostage. We can talk this out."

You crack open your eyes. Is that... Batman? And Robin? And... Nightwing? What—

The arm around your throat tightens and you gasp for air as you start to choke for real. Oh God. Batman's going to die because of you.

"You involved Batman?" Mike snarls, now truly irate. You feel yourself being dragged backward, toward the edge. Your stomach rolls in warning.

"Take it easy," Batman says, palms up. "We can work this out."

"You can't play fair?" Mike shouts. "Then neither will I!"

The wood beneath your feet is gone. You're falling.

"No!"

But no sooner than you fall are you caught. Warm arms encircle your waist, and you're jerked to a stop before you can fall more than a few feet.

"I got you, baby, I got you."

Jason is connected to a grapple. At the roof edge is Batman, Nightwing, and Spoiler, all holding the grapple.

You shake your head, screaming against your gag. Bomb. Bomb!

"'S alright, 's alright, sweetheart, I won't drop you."

You scream urgently through your gag, butting your head against his helmet. Jason pulls your gag half free and you choke out the warning.

"B-bomb!"

His grip tightens. "Shit. B, get out of here! Place is rigged to blow!"

The first explosion goes off. Jason meets your gaze. He's terrified, you can tell, but he tries to mask it.

"Let go," he says.

"Wh—"

"He'll catch you," Jason promises. "I trust him."

And then he lets go.

Several more explosions go off. The building begins to crumble. Dust and heat sweep across your face and lodge in your already sore throat. You scream, in the air for a few more seconds.

Then you crash into gray body armor. A cowl, a cape.

"It's alright," Batman gruffly says. "Hold on tight."

Batman swings you both to safety on an adjacent rooftop. You watch him dive back into the flames. It isn't long before Jason swings out of the smoke, then the others. He pulls off his helmet and tosses it to the side, arms open.

You run and bury your face in Jason's neck, clinging to him. He hugs your tightly and rubs your back, saying over and over, I got you.

You sigh and slacken out of exhaustion.

"I've got you, baby," he says, though his voice is wet this time. "You're safe."

Jason checks over your wounds. You see the rage cross his face several times at every bruise and cut on you. He doesn't let go of you even after he's done. He's shaking too, perhaps more than you, as he cuts your binds and completely removes your gag.

The Bats land gracefully behind you. Jason stiffens as they do.

You kiss his jaw. His gaze returns to you.

"You saved me," you say.

"I always will," he says. "Always."

"Are either of you injured?"

Batman suddenly swishes to your side. You blink, startled.

"Nothing serious," you say. Jason grunts unhappily at that. You manage a smile. "Thank you. All of you. Thank you so much."

Jason nods stiffly. "Thanks, Bats."

Nightwing smiles, face soft with affection. "'Course, Hood. And, uh, Hood's fiancé. We're there any time you need us."

"That's right, chum," Batman says. The obvious care in his voice makes you ache.

Jason had called his family. His family with whom he has a plethora of problems. He'd called them for you.

"Jay," you say, voice thick with emotion. He seems to understand instantly.

"I'll always bring you home," he vows, cupping your face. "Whatever it takes."

He pulls you to him like he can't bear to be away from you any longer.

You squeeze his wrists. "I know. It's okay, Jay. I'm okay."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see that the Bats still have not dispersed. Spoiler looks like she's about to melt into a puddle. Nightwing is the same. Even Batman looks a little sentimental.

Robin is the only one scowling, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hood, are you not going to introduce your fiance-we-just-learned-existed-tonight?" Robin asks, arms folded.

Jason huffs. "Not with those manners, demon brat."

You roll your eyes and extend your hand to Batman. You say your name, smiling.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," you say.

Batman laughs, and it sounds a little fond. It's also kind of weird to hear Batman laugh. "No sir necessary. It's equally an honor to meet the person my son is marrying."

Jason makes a choked little noise. You beam.

"Well," Batman murmurs. "We'll let you two get home. We'll track down the rest of Michael's thugs—"

"Come to the wedding," Jason blurts.

Batman stills. "Me?" he asks carefully.

"Everybody," Jason says, tugging you into his side. "Uncle Clark, Aunt Diana, Selina, your ten thousand kids, everyone."

He turns to you. "I-I mean, as long as that's okay with you, baby."

"Oh, Jay. It's your family. Of course I want them to come." You lean in to whisper in his ear. "I'm proud of you."

"Little Wing, c'mere!"

Nightwing tackles Jason in a hug, then drags Robin, who protests loudly, in by his cape. Spoiler snaps a picture from the sideline.

"Now that's adorable," she says.

Batman looks at you. He removes his cowl, and you gasp quietly. He smiles, and it makes him look decades younger. You guess he hasn't smiled much since he lost Jason.

"Thank you," he says.

You tilt your head. "For what?"

"For bringing him back to us."

You duck your head. "Oh, Mr. Wayne, that wasn't me—"

"Bruce," he corrects gently. "And it was. You played a bigger part than you know. You saved him. Thank you."

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 呪術廻戦 ; gojo satoru x fem reader (1k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ valentine's day is approaching; and with a valentine comes love...or for worse...heartbreak.

contains; gojo satoru x fem reader, angst, mentions of fluff idk, there’s some swearing i think author's note; happy (almost) valentine's,, i’m projecting

1 day, 9 hours, and 47 minutes.

your last conversation wasn't anything out of the ordinary. there was no dry spell. no plateau. no failure to communicate. just you and satoru, plus the typical banter, talking about something as simple as what you were planning on making for dinner; to be more precise, what you were trying to make for dinner. you're a pretty awful cook according to him.

everything seemed to be going so well...really well...almost perfectly well— and with valentine's day right around the corner, you'd instinctively assumed that he'd ask you to be his. instinct is a difficult emotion, though. is it even an emotion? you're not quite sure, but your heart believes it is. your heart— which is practically pounding out of your chest at the current moment, stretching your skin, eager to feel the limitless fresh air and freedom that comes with floating on cloud 9— instinctively wants to believe satoru is your soulmate. you love him don't you? is the answer yes? it should be no.

you've known him for...what? four months? four months of your twenty years of life is seemingly small. that's only one point six-seven percent of your entire lifetime...one point six-seven percent of your life that you wish you could relive forevermore.

...he isn't going to text you back is he?

2 days, 2 hours, and 15 minutes.

each second passing is another flicker of hope that misses the candle wick. instead of lighting the path that leads to your eventual relationship, it lights a fire beneath your feet. your socks feel warm. there's coal beneath them. hot, burning coal withering away the sense of feel in your toes; breathing in the aroma of heartbreak until it becomes a roaring fire that consumes all of you.

why is he doing this? what did you do wrong? you haven't done anything wrong. he's just a man. a man who can't seem to stop playing with your heart.

you can hear his voice in the back of your mind. the part of your mind that connects to your heart. "can you facetime, right now? i'm having a bad day and i just want to see your face." he had to have meant that. "you don't need to apologize for talking over me, i love hearing what you have to say." a guy wouldn't just say that to say that. "don't be too hard on yourself, i know you'll figure everything out becuase you're you. you always know what to do." it couldn't have all been bullshit.

it can't have been bullshit.

because if that's all it was, then you're just a fool in love.

and fools in love are no better than clowns.

3 days, 14 hours, and 22 minutes.

you did what you hate doing. the thing that makes you want to scream into your pillow at the mere thought. the very thing that screams desperation and neediness and clinginess and insecurity all in one. you sent another message.

in the past, you've never had feelings strong enough to elicit such a response. your heart hasn't tied itself to another person's with a red satin bow. the fated string of fate hadn't found you yet. it allowed you to maintain a stable head and remain grounded with no hopes of love on your radar. you hadn't yet learned how to fly; until that day you met satoru and suddenly you had a hundred pilot lessons lined up day-after-day.

it was so easy being with him. everything was so easy.

for the first time ever you had no doubts. you weren't afraid of waking up one morning to find him gone. disappeared. nonexistent. you full-heartedly believed he'd never leave; and you believed he reciprocated those thoughts. now, though...now you may never know what bits and pieces he reciprocated— because your plane crashed. turbulence flew beneath the wings and drove the flight off course. the oxygen masks bellowed down upon the passengers, every seat being filled with your pounding heartbeats, and each and every one of them blew out of the window with no parachute. he didn't even try to cushion the fall.

4 days, 1 hour, and 39 minutes.

if there's one message you never expected to receive, it's surely 'seen 14 hours ago'.

you'd given him space and assumed he'd been busy with a million other things and hadn't had any time to send you a quick message. your last text wasn't even anything out of the ordinary, just a quick "are you okay?", you think that's pretty reasonable. it's reasonable, isn't it?

something could be seriously wrong with him. why else would he leave you on read? he's never done this before. usually, you're the one who's more distant between the two of you. that's how your relationship began, after all. he'd send five texts in comparison to your two; which later evolved into five rivaling five, and now to zero rivaling two. the scales have tipped. how do you rebalance them?

you trust satoru. there must be a perfectly good explanation for this odd irregularity that's occurring in your otherwise perfect relationship. after all, all of your friends love him— they think he's the greatest catch of the 21st century. he's never done anything in the past to warrant such strange behavior. this is simply a difficult week for him...and you'll be there whenever he's ready to vent.

5 days, 22 hours, and 7 minutes.

a broken heart isn't for the weak...but unfortunately, you're not one of the stronger warriors.

he's at another girl's birthday party. he hasn't messaged you back in almost six days...and he's with another girl? celebrating her? he could be holding her close and you wouldn't even know, because god knows he wouldn't tell you. he won't even say good morning anymore. he won't even answer your fucking three word message that you sent out of desperation and concern for his well being. instead, he's at the club with his friends, getting drunk and taking shots, having the time of his life; and you're sitting in your room watching his social media stories...believing that everything that went wrong is all your fault.

but it's not your fault.

it's not your fault you fell for someone like that.

someone like satoru gojo.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Oooo Vox! How about Vox with a unnaturally unlucky SO? And it's always been like that and how they died as well!

(Also calling Vox their lucky charm and how he's the most luck they ever had and needed)

Man Y/N really is unlucky landing Vox as a S/O-

I'M JOKING I LOVE THIS

Vox X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Second hand embarrassment for Y/N, Valentino being harmed

Description: ☝️⬆️

Not Y/N accidentally getting placed in Hell because of some unlucky mix up-

When you first told Vox you were unlucky, he didn't really believe you and just thought you were being dramatic

And sure you've had a few bad luck incidents that he's seen but nothing that really stands out to him

It's not until he's in a relationship with you that he realizes you weren't fucking joking around when you said it

You really are unlucky

In just a day you've somehow managed to trip and ruin one of Velvette's outfits and completely disfigure her model

You caught Valentino's wings on fire while trying to make a sandwich and when you went to put it out you made it worse by throwing oil on him

Good

You broke four of Vox's cameras, five of his stage lights and broke his chair all while he was live

And all that doesn't even begin to cover the mayhem you caused just last week

Somehow you keep running into Alastor and that's a whole headache in itself

You stress him out so much that if he had hair it would be white and falling out of his head

But Vox will be damned if you aren't just the most precious thing in his life, you're too adorable to get rid of

No matter how much trouble you are to keep

You're so fucking adorable Vox isn't letting you go

Whenever he starts to feel himself getting irritated with you, he just looks at your apologetic face and melts

"Sorry Vox...I guess I just need to stick closer to my lucky charm next time, huh?"

Fuck he loves you

"Just-get over here and hold still!"

Keeps you in his lap because it's the only way to keep you from causing trouble with your horrible bad luck

Not at all because he loves having you close and because his heart skips a few beats when you lean into him or because you smell so perfect-

"Vox? Your screen is all hot and glitchy...are you alright?"

He's fine, babe

Honestly can't get enough of you and genuinely believes he can keep your unlucky nature at bay if he keeps you with him at all times

You managed to trip and toss a dozen fragile, expensive things into the air???

Don't worry, Vox is scrambling to catch them all in a hilariously cartoonish manner

You got lost and now Alastor is contacting him and telling Vox to come get his curse out of Alastor's hotel??

Vox will be there and won't even start a fight, the hotel has been beaten up enough by you and your bad luck as it is

He's kinda proud of you for that one tho

He can't even be mad, it's so obvious that some supernatural force is out to get you

There's no way you're just naturally this unlucky

And he can't just dump you, no matter what Valentino says, fuck him

If he dumps you then you'll be at the mercy of your unluck and nobody will be around to save you

And Vox wants to be the one who saves you, he wants you to depend on him more than anything else

Whenever he sees the grateful look on your face after he bails you out of trouble he's reminded of how much he loves you all over again

Can't resist the urge to take you into his arms and rub his face screen on you, no he won't put you down

With him around to clean up your messes, maybe he really is your good luck charm

Vox really starts to believe it

But then your bad luck strikes again and his migraine is back

Good luck charm his ass

I REALLY REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE 💗

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

au where vaggie has another little secret she didn't even know was a secret still (spoiler it's Mortality) (spoiler charlie Isn't Happy) and when she sits down with charlie for a hotel talk it goees like (TRAUMATIC EMOTIONAL SPEED RUN AAAAHAHAHA)

Vaggie: "Alright sweetie, the hotel's going good so far, one soul redeemed, minimal fire damage this week, so we should probably start planning for the next hundred years of operations."

Charlie: "YAY!!! Planning planning planning~ What's first on the list??"

Vaggie: "Start looking for a replacement manager."

Charlie: "You don't wanna keep being manager? OH- we can be CO-FOUNDERS together! WE COULD HAVE A PARTY FOR IT! And plan for the next one too- Charlie and Vaggie's centennial wow the hotel is still here celebration...!"

Vaggie: "That's sweet, but I'll be dead by then either way, so we still need to deal with the staffing shortage before then."

Charlie: "....dead... tired?"

Vaggie: "Dead as in dead. Doornail style."

Charlie: "What?"

Vaggie: "Expired. Shit, when did we last check the hotel fridge..."

Charlie: "Vaggie wait, I'm, I'm not hearing you right, what are you saying?"

Vaggie: "Heaven born don't live forever? Especially not down in hell, turns out."

Charlie: "I don't understand."

Vaggie: (chuckles) "Sweetie, thanks for ignoring my eyebags and zombie groans while getting out of bed in the morning- but my wings are already GREY, for fuck's sake."

Charlie: "Yes they're, grey. Beautiful and- aren't they supposed to be-?"

Vaggie: "And I'm pretty sure it's not just from the stress of running a business for a few months. Being hotel manager isn't that hard."

Vaggie: "....Mostly. Compared to, some things...." (sigh)

Vaggie: "Think anyone would believe that if we put it in the want ad?"

Charlie: "But-"

Vaggie: "No buts. We really need to get a head start on this."

Charlie: "....but you're a winner."

Vaggie: (SNORTS) "In my dating life, yeah. Anyway-"

Charlie: "But none of the other exorcists' wings are grey! So, so THEY aren't aging- so YOU aren't aging!!"

Vaggie: "They've got halos to protect them from the whole physically getting old thing-"

Charlie: "Halos???"

Vaggie: "-so we- they- can keep fit and ready for fighting our- THEIR whole lives, but duh we don't live forever. Lute and Adam left me here to die, not chill for all eternity."

Charlie: "Wh.. but-"

Vaggie: "Can you imagine how much heaven would've freaked if one of their actually immortal souls had gotten killed down here in hell...? But it was just one of us Adam's girls, and it was up to him to deal with it. With more murder. Bastard."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "Uh.... Charlie?"

Charlie: "....your mortal?"

Vaggie: "I'm, yeah.... wait, Charlie..."

Vaggie: "...people know that about exorcists, right? You didn't... think heaven would risk putting winners in their rank and file army and send them down to hell?"

Charlie: "I thought you were a sinner."

Vaggie: "Hostia- right. I keep forgetting, they don't get old do they?"

Charlie: "Sinners don't. They get killed but they don't just. Die."

Vaggie: "I'm sorry. I thought- I really should've told you-"

Charlie: "Angels aren't supposed to die either."

Vaggie: "We did a good job proving that wrong. Exhibit A, Adam's corpse."

Charlie: "He was KILLED- it's not the same!"

Vaggie: "And angels aren't the same either. There's a lot of different kinds in creation- most of us aren't in the higher orders, there's waaaay more exorcists than seraphim."

Charlie: "But heaven is still supposed to be HEAVEN! People don't DIE in heaven! That wouldn't be Heaven! How could- how could it ever be HAPPY up there if, if- if people still left!?"

Vaggie: "Oh, sweetie... the only people who've earned a heaven like that are the winners. The rest of us are just-"

Charlie: "Just what? JUST, WHAT???"

Vaggie: "We're there to make heaven a good place for them. Keep it running smooth and safe. Mostly it's the higher ups who deal with winners personally, the rest of us stay back and stick to our jobs, try to keep some distance so no one... gets too attached... shit that sounded a lot less fucked up before I said it out loud-"

Vaggie: "Look- it's like that with hellborn too isn't it? The imps and hellhounds and-"

Charlie: "NO! YES? But this is HELL! Of course it hurts and isn't fair! You're not FROM hell it's not supposed to BE like that for you!"

Vaggie: "Or for my girlfriend."

Charlie: "I'm not the one who's dying!"

Vaggie: "You're kinda freaking-"

Charlie: "IM NOT FREAKING OUT!!"

Vaggie: "Right. I meant, you should've had more warning. I'm sorry I didn't say... I wasn't thinking that far ahead."

Charlie: "WELL I WAS! And I'm not- we're not losing that."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "We're getting you your halo back."

Vaggie: "Pretty sure it's already been recycled-"

Charlie: "THEN WE'RE FINDING ONE FROM ONE OF THE DEAD EXORCISTS and you are WEARING IT until we FIX THIS."

Vaggie: "Sweetie- heaven collected all the halos from our battle-"

Charlie: "They didn't pick up all the spears and stuff, maybe they also missed-"

Vaggie: "No they wouldn't have. Halos aren't, they're not like the weapons. Heaven doesn't care if sinners kill each other with some left behind divine steel, but a halo? They store and conduct heavenly power or whatever. No one's gonna leave one of them lying around."

Charlie: "Fine. FINE- let me think-"

Vaggie: "Can we think less and focus more on you not shaking like a damn leaf first? C'mon, sit down-"

Charlie: "-the angel Carmilla killed. We'll use that one."

Vaggie: "We could use a deep breath right now."

Charlie: "It's head was missing when heaven picked up the body."

Vaggie: "Yeah? An Overlord probably has it hanging on their wall, big whoop, Charlie please slow down-"

Charlie: "If it's head was left behind then maybe it's halo was too! If we find the Overlord-"

Vaggie: "No. No more deals with Overlords."

Charlie: "I'll make as many damn deals with them as I want!"

Vaggie: "But not for ME, alright! If it's about me then you don't get to sell your fucking soul! Or bind it or whatever! You can't make me be the reason for that!"

Charlie: "Vaggie- we NEED that halo."

Vaggie: "No we don't. I don't."

Charlie: "You're dying without it!"

Vaggie: "I KNOW I am. But that's just, life!"

Charlie: "LIFE? Dying so soon isn't-!"

Vaggie: "Charlie, you're half seraphim. You mom was the original demon, your view on life expectancies is kinda skewed."

Charlie: "You said the halos let you live longer!"

Vaggie: "I said they keep us young. It's not the same thing."

Charlie: "It's still SOMETHING!"

Vaggie: "We don't even know that would help at this point, I've been in hell for years-"

Charlie: "Oh so we shouldn't even try!? Just, sit back and go 'well we haven't don't anything to stop this but I guess it was just completely unavoidable'-"

Vaggie: "It probably WON'T help. No, listen- It worked up in heaven and for short runs down here- that doesn't mean it'd have any power to draw on in hell. It's probably just a fancy looking hoop down here."

Charlie: "Then we'll get you back to heaven until we can make it work."

Vaggie: "I'm not going back to fucking heaven!"

Charlie: "AND I'M NOT LETTING YOU STAY HERE AND DIE!"

Vaggie: "You can't kick me out- this is OUR hotel, not just yours."

Charlie: "YOU- you-"

Vaggie: "We need. To calm down."

Charlie: "CALM DOWN! Every second you spend down here your body is-"

Vaggie: "Not dying anytime soon, okay? I'm fine. This whole talk has gone way too far way, way to fast. That's my fault for not thinking about all this sooner, but. Just. Take a breath. Let's just take a breath, take a break, and come back to this when we're both had a moment."

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "Did you plan all this."

Vaggie: "What?"

Charlie: "Owning the hotel together. Making sure you couldn't be forced out of hell."

Vaggie: "That's not why we started the hotel-"

Charlie: "No, that's not what I was thinking when we started it. But were you?"

Vaggie: "Charlie... you're connecting dots that aren't there..."

Charlie: "You're here. You're here and dying and don't want to leave."

Vaggie: "I'd be dying up in heaven too."

Charlie: "But your wings wouldn't already be GREY, would they?"

Vaggie: "They'd still be an exorcist's wings, if I'd never left-"

Charlie: "Well they're not anymore and going back wouldn't change that. All it would do is help you stay alive."

Vaggie: "I don't want that life."

Charlie: "It's that or die."

Vaggie: "You're being dramatic-"

Charlie: "You've always said you liked that about me. Was that a lie too?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "Do you want to die, Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "Of course I don't- I could've just let Lute-"

Charlie: "Die, not be killed. Does it make you feel better about all the people you've killed? You'll die and join them, sooner rather than later?"

Vaggie: "......."

Vaggie: "... I want. To spend my life. With you."

Charlie: "No you don't." (voice cracking) "You can't do that when you're dead."

Vaggie: "That's not my fault."

Charlie: "Your choice though, right?"

Vaggie: "It’s not same thing-"

Charlie: "Yes it is. You want to be one who leaves."

Vaggie: "....... wouldn't you?"

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "I don't.... want it to b- be like this."

Vaggie: "I know."

Charlie: "I want US! Not like this."

Vaggie: "I know, sweetie, I know... I'm so sorry-"

Charlie: "Stop it." (muffled in vaggie's hair) "You don't want this either, stop apologizing for it!"

Vaggie: "... I shouldn't have let you think, it could be different."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "It will be."

Vaggie: "Okay. Denial, that's a, normal step in-"

Charlie: "No- It WILL BE. I- We going to- we'll MAKE it different."

Vaggie: "I don't think we can..."

Charlie: "We will."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "Damnit just trust me! If we can save a sinner's soul, then we can f-fucking save you."

Vaggie: "....."

Charlie: "Please, Vaggie. Can we try?"

Vaggie: "...it'll be a waste of time."

Charlie: "No it won't."

Vaggie: "We're already not gonna have forever together, sweetie. Why not just. Enjoy what we do have?"

Charlie: "I will! We will."

Charlie: "But we're going to have longer than one century for it."

Vaggie: "Half that, maybe..."

Charlie: "That's not the sound of trying. Vaggie. Please."

Vaggie: "...well... if you're gonna look at me like that about it..."

Charlie: "Don't joke about this."

Vaggie: "I'm not." (smile) "I just know better than to doubt Charlie Morningstar when she gets an idea into her cute, stubborn head."

Charlie: "All my head needs right now is an answer. One word. Clear. Honest."

Vaggie: "... alright. Yes. We can try."

Charlie: "Thank you." (kiss) "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

Vaggie: "But you have to promise me. No deals. No selling souls- not for my sake, not even a little bit. Got it?"

Charlie: "Why are you so strict about this-"

Vaggie: "Because it's your soul."

Charlie: "-people make deals all the time! YOU made one with-"

Vaggie: "And it creeped me out even though it wasn't with my soul. Do you promise?"

Charlie: "This is a heaven thing isn't it?"

Vaggie: "Do you promise."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "I won't make, deals with anyone in hell, to save you."

Vaggie: (breathes out) "Then... we'll start by talking to Carmilla tomorrow."

Charlie: "TOMORROW!? But that-"

Vaggie: "Will give us time to figure out what we actually wanna SAY to Carmilla. She's still an Overlord, Charlie. Any info we give her she'll want to sure to keep her family safe first."

Charlie: "I know the fucking feeling..."

Vaggie: "So we're slowing this down and doing things carefully, so we do them right. Right?"

Charlie: "Right." (grumbling) "Fools rush in- blah blah BLAH."

Vaggie: "That's my girl."

Vaggie: (hesitates) (tentative smooch)

Vaggie: "Feeling better?"

Charlie: "Fine. I wish you'd stop asking ME that."

Vaggie: "Just glad you're not shaking so much anymore. Kinda scared me for a second."

Charlie: "I'm fine." (sighs) (hugs vaggie) "I didn't mean..."

Vaggie: "I didn't mean to scare you, too."

Charlie: "It's fine. You'll be okay."

Vaggie: "Mm. Already am."

Charlie: "And we're NOT looking for a replacement hotel manager."

Vaggie: "We're gonna need-"

Charlie: "NO."

Vaggie: "-okay. We'll hold off on it. We've got time."

Charlie: (holds her closer) (glares at distant light of heaven)

[nirvanawrites111]

Set My Wings on Fire (DPR Ian x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You're smitten by the love of your life, Christian Yu and he's being painted as a dangerous person. But, you don't care cause that's your man and you're going to stick beside him. You're pretty much in love with a villain, but he's super sweet to you. Non-celebrity AU.

Pairing: DPR Ian x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2024

Warnings: Smut, PIV, oral sex (male rec), mentions of murder, praise kink, good girl, unprotected sex, creampie

This is part of a NEW SERIES called Duality. It's all about embracing switch!energy. Part 1 will be sub!reader and Part 2 will be dom!reader. Some of the stories will be 2 idols x reader, and some will be just 1 on 1.

Smut below the cut.

"You need to leave him alone," Your best friend voices as they stare at the large television on your wall. The dim glow casts a shadow across your living room.

You press your lips together and cross your arms. A tightness crawls up your chest. This is the last thing you want to hear right now. You are tired of hearing this comment right now. You feel around your couch for the remote. You can't bother to listen to the news channel any longer.

"Look," you begin, forcing yourself to meet their gaze. "I know Christian very well. The media is trying to make up stories about him. He's not the monster they're making him out to be," You speak up and express your feelings. You twist his ring that he gave you a year ago, and you decide to wear it as a necklace.

You know Christian better than anyone. Everything he does has a meaning and purpose behind it.

You stare at the image of his picture plastered on the television. His usual neat dark brown hair is a mess, and his eyeliner is smeared. Underneath his picture are large red letters "WANTED" that contrast against his pale complexion. Sure, he might seem dangerous to someone else, but to you, something magnetizes you to him.

"The man is a killer, Y/n. If he comes here, you need to turn him in. You don't want to go to jail for housing a fugitive, do you?"

"He isn't a killer. I don't care what the media is saying."

You pick up your phone off the couch table and see that he texted you five minutes ago that he was on his way. You quickly text back and tell him to wait until your best friend leaves.

"This man has brainwashed you. Hopefully, you realize the truth before it's too late." Your best friend raises their hands in defeat and stands up. "I gotta go. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"He's not, but thanks for stopping by," you reply, trying to smooth things.

Your friend stands up and hugs you. You're glad they are leaving. There is nothing that will convince you that Christian is a bad person. Even with everything you know about him, you would never turn on him.

You walk with them to your front door, and the soft patter of your bare feet echoes against the polished hardwood floor.

Once they leave you close the door only to be slightly pushed open, revealing Christian.

There he is.

The only man that can make you melt to your knees. You want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you.

"Beautiful," Christian, your accented lover, whispers your favorite nickname. He steps into your home. His words allow you to fall to your knees and please your man. But, you don't want to act too thirsty.

He removes his hood with both hands and reveals his hair in messy, shoulder-length loose curls. The two of you stand in your foyer, and your eyes connect.

Christian has such a dark energy around him that it attracts you to him for whatever reason. It pulls you in so closely, like a moth to a flame. Regardless of what others say, you can still see the good in him. He's been nothing but kind, patient, and loving to you. So, really, that's all that matters to you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him.

Christian removes his sweatshirt, and your eyes trace over his tattoos. You run your hand over the one tattoo over his heart, your name.

"I'm so much better, now that I'm with you."

"I'm sure you know they're looking for you."

"I know," Christian sighs. "I'm also wanted for something. What is it this time?"

"Murder."

Christian stares into your eyes, and he can heart your heart beating fast. No one has ever cared about him more than you. Your unwavering loyalty is something he's searched for many years. Now, he's found exactly what he needs within you.

"Do you think I'm guilty?" Christian asks you.

"No, but if you did it, I know there was a reason."

"Good girl. You know your man oh too well," Christian praises you. He knows it's exactly what you need to hear in this moment.

Your lips curl into a smile, and you haven't looked away from him. He knows that nothing about him scares you. He's told you his deepest, darkest secrets. Because he knows he can trust you.

"I do. My best friend was just running their mouth talking about how I need to leave you alone. But, they don't know you like I do."

"Do you need me to handle that?"

"No, never that."

"We have some catching up to do. Don't we, angel?"

"Yes."

***

You turn on the shower and step into it first. Christian follows behind you. He presses you against the shower wall from behind. "My angel.. so pure. So innocent," he whispers into your ear.

Christian runs his hand down your back, enough to give you chills. You've missed feeling his touch against your skin.

"You know I'm far from innocent."

"Compared to me. You're a saint."

Christian attacks your neck with kisses. This instantly sends a warmth throughout your body. You've missed the way his lips feel against your skin. You don't care what happens when he's out of your sight. Because this man adores you, he'd do anything to protect you.

"Sweetness, tell me.." Christian pulls away from you and turns you around to face him. His gaze penetrates your eyes, searching for something unspoken. "Do you really love me?"

His eyes are full of emotions, and you can see the pureness in his question. But, at the same time, why would he question you this way? You've always supported him no matter what.

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Even if I had to leave you for a bit?"

Your breath quickens, and you can feel your stomach churn. Is he going to up and leave you? Does this mean he's going to end things with you?

"Where are you going?" You twist your necklace.

Christian picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as the warm water cascades down the two of you.

"I'm not sure. But, I'm leaving in 48 hours."

"Because of what I saw on the news?" You try to piece everything together. Did this mean that it was true? You didn't want to ask him what happened because you trusted him.

He promised you he would never do anything that would jeopardize his time with you. He stated that from the beginning. But, now, it felt like things were going differently.

"Yes."

"I'm coming with you."

"Hell no. I will get this sorted out. I will come back for you."

"No, I'm coming with you."

"Angel?"

"Yes."

"Don't I always come back for you?"

"Yes.. but."

"No, buts. Listen, you have to trust me. I will come back for you, okay?"

You nod. But, your fear is he's going to leave you.

"Angel, don't look so sad. I wish I could take you with me. It's going to pain me to leave you."

"Well let me taste you for the last time."

"Of course, angel."

Christian releases from his arms, and you get down on your knees. You look up at him.

He strokes your face and looks at you in such a loving way.

You hold your hands behind your back and swirl your tongue around his dick until he's halfway in your mouth.

You hum your favorite song and move your mouth up and down his length. This could be the last time you taste him, so you want to savor the moment.

You close your eyes and move faster and hear him moan. You love hearing him vocalize his satisfaction for you.

"Go deeper for me, angel," Christian instructs you, and you have no problem following instructions.

You take him deeper into your mouth, and he cradles the back of your head. He's moving with you to the point where you two are rocking as one.

At this moment, you are breathing through your nose because you only want to please him. You live to serve him. You are hopelessly devoted to him.

"Fuck.. just like this," Christian groans. "Don't stop, angel. God, you're so beautiful like this."

"Mmmhm," you barely manage to say because you have your mouth full and wouldn't want to have it any other way. Tonight has to count and hold you over.

"No one else can suck me the way you do. You're so amazing, angel," Christian continues to praise you, which encourages you to keep going because you know he's so close.

"You want this nut don't you?"

You nod without missing a beat, and both of his hands are on the back of your head. He's practically fucking your throat at this point.

He cums down your throat, and you swallow all of it.

Christian pulls you up to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth and kisses you. As the kiss deepens, you can't help but run your fingers along your pussy only to find that it are dripping for him.

"Thank you for that amazing blow job, angel. You're always amazing."

"No problem."

Christian wraps his arms around you. "Mhmm.. I'm ready to feel all of you now. You want that, baby?"

"Yess.."

"How do you want me?"

"From behind.. like this." You turn around, place your hands against the shower wall, and arch your back.

Christian places his hand against your lower back and moves his dick along your entrance. "You know I love taking you from behind. Do you want me here or do you want back door."

"Here.. I want to feel you deep inside me. I prefer anal when I'm pegging you."

Christian kisses on the side of your neck. "I know baby.. next time when I come home. We can celebrate with pegging." He sucks on your neck and inches himself into you.

Feeling him inside of you feels like home. There's nothing like having him deep inside of you.

"You're so tight for me, angel," Christian whispers against your neck, kissing gently against the spot he just sucked on.

You moan out his name and enjoy him being inside of you again.

The feeling is euphoric, and you get lost in the moment of being one with your lover again. His hands cover and clasps with yours as he strokes into you.

You hope you celebrate with him, but you want to enjoy this moment. You arch your back a little more as he increases the pace. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. It feels too good. You deserve to experience this type of heaven on earth.

Christian holds you in place as he slows down with each backshot he gives you, and he reaches from behind and runs his hand down the front of your love nest. He moves to your clit and strokes it.

"Yesss, baby! I love when you rub my clit," you moan out.

"I know you do." Christian continues to rub it while you tighten around his dick. "My baby is close. Are you going to cum on my dick?"

"Mmhmm," you moan. But, at the point, you're already trembling from the combination of his teasing your clit and being buried inside you. The sensation is perfect. It's a feeling that never gets old. No matter how many times he gives you an orgasm, it always feels as good as the first time.

"So, be a good girl and cum for me."

"That's it.. baby. Cum on dick." He instructs you and talks you through it. You obey him easily. You release onto his dick. He's right there with you as he pumps into you until he cums inside you.

"Mmm.. thank you, baby," you say, trying to catch your breath.

"No, thank you angel. You were wonderful as always. I can't wait to celebrate with you when I come back."

If you enjoyed this please reblog. It helps other find my work.

Part 2

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Seven Deadly Sins pop-up event.

Not Just Sundays

Prompt: Sloth | Word Count: 1313 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Relationship(s): Steddie | Tags: Corroded Coffin Trying to Make it On the Road, Steve Back Home in Hawkins, Failing at Managing the Distance, Good Uncle Wayne, A Touch of Angst w/a Happy Ending

Another night, another show, and another missed phone call that he promised he'd make over a week ago. Fuck. Time is just slipping away from him. From the studio to gigs to party after party. They've really got a good thing going, and slowing down right now just isn't an option. Once the ball is rolling, you gotta keep it going. Steve will understand. Steve always understands.

He's good like that.

Eddie knows Steve wants the band to make it. Succeed. Even if that means Steve's been getting a smaller slice of Eddie's attention right now. It won't always be like this, Eddie's sure, so for right now he's gonna strike while the iron is hot.

He'll call Steve tomorrow. For sure.

A week later, there's a note waiting at the front desk of the next hotel. An order to call home. Eddie looks at his watch, but doesn't really have time to call Wayne right now. 

"Make time," Jeff says, as if Eddie had said that out loud for everyone to hear. He didn't, he doesn't think, Jeff just knows him that well.

"Fine," Eddie says, and drags his ass off to one of the phone booths in the lobby. It's cheaper than using the room phone, he's sure.

Wayne picks up after three rings.

"I had a boy here last night, pretty upset after not hearing from you in sixteen days," Wayne drawls by way of greeting. It's a condemnation, and Eddie feels it. If he hasn't talked to Steve in sixteen days, he doesn't even know how long it's been since he's called Wayne. 

Longer. Much longer.

"Shit," Eddie says.

"I'd say," Wayne answers.

"I'm just busy," Eddie says, and he knows it's an excuse. He could make time, he just hasn't prioritized it. Like getting out of Hawkins just spread his wings a little too far.

Wayne sighs. 

"What will it profit anyone, if they were to gain the whole world, but lose their own soul?” Wayne quotes, and Eddie leans his head against the glass.

"Are you proselytizing to me again, old man?" Wayne grew up with religion in a way that Eddie did not, and therefore can pull verses and lessons out of his coveralls pocket at any time. It's annoying.

Wayne sighs, "No. I'm not. Not really. But what good will it be to you, boy, if you make it to the top, and then take a look around, only to realize you're all by yourself?"

He's not all by himself. He's got Gareth and Jeff and Goodie. 

But he knows what Wayne means. Will the fame be worth it, if he loses Steve in the process? No. No way, and he knows that. He does. It's just been hard to juggle both right now.

"I'll call him," Eddie promises.

"It's not that," Wayne says, as if that wasn't the reason for his whole call.

"It's not?"

"Think long and hard, Ed. If you don't have space for him right now, if you don't want to make space, it's okay."

And Eddie starts to argue.

"Eddie. It's okay. But don't string him along while he waits back home. It's not right."

"What do you-"

"Shit or get off the pot, kid."

And Eddie laughs. They've moved from a sermon to Midwestern idioms. Great.

But he knows Wayne is right. 

Goddammit.

He calls Steve next, and he's not home. Which, that serves Eddie right. He doesn't leave a message, feels that's too easy. Steve will hear it, forgive him, and Eddie thinks he deserves to get a little bit of his anger. A little bit of his hurt.

They have a four-night break. He could run home. It's not that far. See Steve. See Wayne. Put out the fires he's caused.

Yeah. He's doing that.

Eddie throws some clothes in his duffle, as the other three watch him pack.

"And you'll be back by Thursday?" Jeff asks, and Eddie swears he will be. He knows the schedule. 

"Okay then," Jeff says, tossing the keys onto the bedspread, "go apologize."

Eddie will grovel, will beg if that's what it takes.

It was a long drive to think. The house is dark. He pulls out his keys and lets himself inside. It's kind of a mess, which is so unlike Steve. There are dishes piled into one side of the sink, and laundry sitting in baskets waiting to be folded.

Maybe he's just been busy at work. Picking up extra shifts or something.

Eddie dumps his bag in the bedroom, and no Steve there either. 

He needs something to do to keep his idle hands busy, and he starts the dishes. Folds the laundry, then moves on to running the sweeper. 

It's after ten, and still no Steve. Maybe he's staying at Robin's. It's too late to call her, she'll either be pissed or worried about where Steve is, so Eddie can't do anything except wait and worry that maybe he's too late.

Then a key's sliding into the lock, jiggling the handle, door swinging open, just before eleven. Eddie's been sitting on the couch in the dark.

And he doesn't mean to, but he scares the shit out of Steve.

"Jesus Christ, fucking hell," Steve snaps, clutching his hand to his chest like he's decades older than his years. Like he's terrified.

Well, that's probably fair. He spent his teenage years being chased by monsters.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just me," Eddie reassures, holding out his hands as if to prove that he's harmless.

He's not harmless.

He's hurt Steve, and that's a bitter fucking pill to swallow.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asks as he takes a couple big steps forward, barreling into Eddie's chest. He smells like sweat and, well, Steve. 

Eddie hugs him back, but feels like shit that Steve has so easily opened his arms, and heart, after Eddie's been so careless with him.

"Everything okay?" Steve asks, face presses into Eddie's neck.

"Yes, yes, I just missed you and I've been pretty shitty about showing that," Eddie explains, hugging him as tight as he can.

"Missed you, too," Steve says, "I'm glad you're home."

Eddie wants to know where he was, wants to know how he's passing the time. But isn't sure if he should barrel in and start demanding to know things. He's the one that hasn't been around, hasn't been reaching out, he probably doesn't get to start grilling Steve.

"I probably stink," Steve says, trying to take a step back, but Eddie won't allow it and just hugs him tighter.

"Love it, wouldn't change a thing," Eddie teases and Steve laughs, his voice rumbling against Eddie's chest.

He really wouldn't change a thing.

"Sunday night basketball," Steve offers, as if that's an explanation. 

"Yes, of course, that," Eddie says, teasing him a little more, and Steve giggles, pressing his lips to Eddie's neck.

"Mr. Clarke unlocks the gym. And the dads and old men in town get together and play basketball at the gym," Steve says, fingers digging into Steve's back.

Eddie laughs, "Mr. Clarke plays basketball?"

"Not well," Steve admits, biting him, just a gentle nip, and fuck Eddie's missed him. "But good isn't a requirement. Just gotta be outta high school and willing to show up."

Eddie should know this. Should know what Steve does every night, not just Sundays. 

"I'm sorry I've been scarce," Eddie apologizes, "I've been an asshole."

"You've been busy," Steve counters, "but I wouldn't mind hearing from you more often. Even if it's just for a few minutes."

"I'll do better," Eddie promises, and hopes that's true. Steve deserves for him to do better. Eddie wants to do better for him, for them, for their whole future, for their present.

Where he's a touring musician, for real, and Steve is playing basketball with Mr. Clarke for fun.

Eddie wants it all with Steve.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: Sloth was interesting to approach! Of course, at first I was like, sloth = lazy. Then I read this:

"Sloth becomes a sin when it slows down and even brings to a halt the energy we must expend in using the means to salvation."

Obviously, I'm twisting the religious take here, but Steve's his salvation, and he can't neglect expending his energy to love him.

[thewebcomicsreview]

so what's your take on the recent "stonetoss is a much better comic than haus of decline because it has fewer words" over on twitter?

I really wanted to reply with a snarky dismissive one-liner. I had one written and everything, but then I wanted to make sure I understood the context and looked into this and ugh. Now I have to explain Twitter drama, this sucks.

Okay. Christ.

Haus of Decline makes this comic

The comic pops up again, and a person named Basil sees it and has a take that it has too many words.

As arguably the most prominent Webcomic Critic out there (which is the say, the only one still doing it), I kind of prefer the wordless version as well, but it's a matter of taste, more than an "objectively correct" take.

Basil then follows up on that take with a rather spicier one

It's worth noting here that Basil is saying Hans Kristian Graebener is "better" in the sense that they believe it's more effective propaganda, not in their own personal opinion of quality. And that's....arguable? For one, Haus of Decline isn't really trying to be left-wing propaganda, it's just shitposting, and for two I think Hans Kristian Graebener's effectiveness is way more complicated and sophisticated than just "brevity". And for three, saying Hans Kristian Graebener is "better comics" is really ill-advised, especially given some context I'll reveal shortly.

Haus sees this, calls Basil a moron, and it turns into a dumb stupid internet argument where both people look bad. And being, again, the top Webcomic Critic, I can confirm that sometimes when you call a webcomic bad the creator will get mad at you over it and that's just something you have to expect and live with and try not to beclown yourself in response to. I don't think Basil responded well here, and "just learn to take criticism" is a pretty common and loaded phrase in Webcomics Discourse. Still, whatever. A questionable take led to a short slap fight. That would be the end of it.

Except. The context.

Seven or eight months ago, Basil made this tweet.

Which is a far better tweet, and is now a meme used by liberals in intra-left twitter discord fights to dunk on the anti-voting Trump-curious twitter left. This tweet also came around the time Will Stancil was whipping a lot of normie liberals to push back against the anti-Biden narrative and obviously the election itself has led a notable shift in the vibes where you're seeing a lot more "Biden's not that bad" takes and even a bit of "Actually, Biden is good and I'm tired of pretending he's not" in leftist spaces. And if you follow my personal account you'll know that my vibes have also shifted in that direction a lot. Basil obviously didn't cause the shift, even Stancil didn't, it was the election, but it's their name on the top of the tweet that's used as an anti-anti-voting meme that the left still doesn't has a great response to, so a lot of leftists fucking hate Basil. The kind of passionate hatred you only feel when you're getting clowned on by Matthew fucking Yglesias. So there's a huge hate mob against Basil in the way that hate mobs tend to occur.

This all attracts the attention of Hans Kristian Graebener, who pops out a comic taking a shot at Haus over this. Which is, honestly, a much better example of why Hans Kristian Graebener is effective propaganda than the brevity thing, because god damn did that pour gasoline on the fire, and....well....tldr:

My take is that this whole fight is incredibly stupid, no one involved looks good, and the only one benefiting from it is the literal fucking Nazi.

[neoarchipelago]

Are you still doing the Fantasy hcs? If not just ignore this

What would a dragon trainer au be like? Like how the military uses dogs, but dragons instead!

Maybe a dragon trainer reader, but Ghost is also a dragon trainer (definitely has a dragon named Riley 😉) so reader and ghost instantly click.. They exchange training tips and help each other with their dragons. But both havee social anxiety, so 141 has to try and get them to confess?

Scales and Feathers

I HAVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS. DAMN.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ under the NSFW written in bright red, you really can't miss it.

You walked around, gear too heavy on your skin. Anxiety bit your flesh like a million fire ants. You weren't used to this. Sure, you were part of the military with Gaia, your beautiful white fluffy dragon, but nothing remotely close to a special task force. When captain price walked in on you training, his stunning leopard dragon behind him, Seraphim, as he called her, was much smaller than Gaia. Big enough for a rider like Price though. 

You looked up at the sky, Gaia happily flying around, taking in the new base from the sky. You smiled, holding your hands behind your back. At the corner of your sight, a black spiky dragon joined the cloud tainted blue, flying close by. Your heartbeat quickened, watching them circling each other. He was large. Bigger than Gaia. Even from your spot on the ground you could see the bright red and gold eyes shining. 

"Breathe. Riley won't hurt him."

You spun around at the sound, eyes falling into a masked face. 

"Her.." you corrected in a small voice. 

He crossed his arms, stepping to you. 

"Sorry. Her." He corrected looking up as well. 

You watched the big dark dragon flying right behind her, trying to nibble playfully at her fluffy feathered tail. Gaia seemed to react according to her character however, a bone shaking growl erupting from the sky, a warning. You shook your head. 

"S.. sorry… she has her character… Gaia!" You apologized, calling your irritated, incredibly large, ball of fur, down. 

Her wings rose up the dust of the ground as you stepped towards her. The black dragon followed to the ground, to his own trainer. Gaia stood behind you, eying the spikey Riley. She seemed to think that stepping behind you was enough to hide her, despite her big frame being almost 20 times too large. 

Riley seemed interested as Gaia hissed from behind you. 

"Gaia… don't be a brat… he just wants to be friends…" you scolded her in a soft tone. 

She huffed a breath in your direction, making your hair fly. You chuckled at her temper. 

"Riley isn't usually this friendly. I'm sorry. I'll keep him in check." 

Your attention turned back to the man. 

"Oh, it's ok. She has to learn to play nice. She'll get to know him eventually." You smiled at him, his imposing frame making you somehow shy. He nodded your way. A heavy silence settled in between the two of you, only broken moments later by Riley sending a huff of smoke towards Gaia in a teasing way. Gaia growled again.

"Riley.." the man called in a warning tone. 

"I see you two are making friends already." 

The both of you turned to Price and Seraphim. You smiled, tension rising again. 

"Miss Y/N, this is Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley. He is part of squad 141. Simon, this is our new addition to the team. Y/N and Gaia." He introduced with one of his signature smiles. You turned to Ghost, smiling. He nodded your way. In the background, soft bickering of two dragons was constantly heard. 

After a few weeks, things had started to calm down however. Gaia had somehow accepted Riley's constant teasing. Despite the fact that he was older and bigger than her, he seemed to be submissive to her when she deemed that enough was enough. Ghost seemed to eye the situation with curiosity, to everyone's opinion, it was uncharacteristic of Riley to behave like this. You understood the meaning of these words when you noticed the stance of the dragon when he had to deal with Soap or Gaz's one. 

In the meantime, you used this brand new relationship in between the two big beasts to train them together. You were slightly frightened at first, the Lieutenant seemed to be a man of few words and with a grip of steel. He seemed to keep his eyes on you very often. However, it was still nice to be able to train with someone as experienced as him. Gaia herself seemed to enjoy his presence and you were happy about it. For as much as Riley also enjoyed your presence, Gaia didn't allow him much room to get near you. 

Another training session came to an end, holding your water bottle in hand as you watched the two dragons roll over each other in a friendly fight. The ground shook softly as they battled. Ghost walked next to you as he also eyed the two fire breathers. 

"Kids.." he mumbled. 

You giggled a bit, the sound gaining his attention. You blushed under his gaze that you tried to hold for a few seconds. The tension was sizzling in between the both of you. 

"I-"

"Thank-" 

You smiled as you both interrupted each other. You looked away as he cleared his throat. 

"Go on." He ordered. You smiled, god was he always so bossy. 

"Thank you, for the training tips… It helps a lot." You said. 

"Your training tips as well. Especially with a grumpy asshole like Riley." He mumbled. 

You chuckled, taking an unconscious step closer to him. 

"He's not mean!" You defended. 

"Because he's acting like a kid when Gaia is around." He pointed out. 

"Hm.. do you think he has a crush on her?" You asked, the question holding heavy meaning. He looked down at you, holding your gaze for a second. 

"Maybe…" he answered in a low rumble. 

The sound made the air get caught in your lungs. The feeling of his gloved hand against your tight pants, right up against your thigh was sending waves of electricity through you. A screech made you both snap your head towards the dragons. 

You were instantly worried watching as Gaia hissed threateningly at Riley who stepped back, his head lowered. What made a wave of fear run through you was the way Gaia held her paw close to her body. You instantly ran to her, Ghost close behind. You inspected the paw, a little scratch with droplets of blood making your eyes widen. It was large, for a human. To Gaia, it was probably just a little scratch. 

"RILEY!" You heard Ghost scold. 

You took a glance back, inspecting Riley who looked angrily at Ghost, as he sat pouting. You noticed the little blood on one of his spikes. It wasn't intentional… 

"Simon…" 

His body seemed tense, hearing you call his name but he looked at you. 

"It's ok, it's just a scratch, he didn't mean it. Look" you pointed towards one of the spikes. 

He understood the situation. 

"Riley. You have to be careful when you play." He scolded again. 

You pet Gaia as she lowered her head to you. 

"Now now… you're being a little baby.. you had much worse…" you teased. 

She huffed another breath towards you, making your hair fly. You smiled at her. 

"Come on… he didn't mean it you know it…" you whispered to her. 

She groaned like an unruly teen before huffing again. However, she somehow decided that you were right as she raised her head, huffing a breath towards Riley, playfully. He cheered up, his tail wagging. Ghost saw it, feeling embarrassed for his dragon. 

To your surprise, Riley took this little hint of forgiveness to walk back to her, nuzzling her head with his. You were shocked by the sudden display of affection, but mostly, by the way Gaia happily nuzzled back. You watch as Riley licked up the wound in an apologetic way as you stepped back towards Ghost, in total dismay. 

Perhaps it was that display of affection, pure affection that made you both realize how badly you wanted to do the same for each other. How your hands wanted to hold each other. How you wanted to be in his arms. But you didn't look at each other, too scared to see unreciprocated feelings in each other's eyes. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, Gaia and Riley's new affection made the both of you spend a lot of time together. Since then, Ghost had retracted, feeling him growing colder and colder. It made you sad. It broke you. You'd try to involve Gaz and Soap to your activities as much as possible, avoiding the aching silence and avoiding gazes. 

Soap and Gaz had found it extremely funny to see that Gaia and Riley had decided to have their own little thing. Their own dragons were more careful around Gaia to avoid seeing Riley angry. The big white dragon however seemed to have a soothing effect on the scary black one. Somehow just like you had a soothing effect on Simon. It had grown obvious as the months passed, so the current situation was confusing to the both of them. Seeing how you two avoided each other yet sent hidden glances when the other was looking. 

It was obvious. Incredibly obvious. Price himself found the situation frustrating. He himself wanted to simply yell at the two of you to simply kiss already. Therefore, it was time to do something about it. The plan was set, the two of you being separately asked to meet at the same place. You entered the small windowless room, looking around in the darkness. Confusion set in, Gaz had asked you to help him with a report in this precise room. The sound of the door made you turn around, relief washing over you before it was quickly erased by an anxious feeling. 

You locked eyes with Simon as he had stepped into the room, looking as confused as you. 

"What…?" He asked. 

"Hum… Gaz asked me… to help him." You tried. 

"Soap-" he didn't finish, groaning as he closed his eyes. 

Before being able to say anything, the lock was heard. Your eyes widened, looking at Simon and the door repeatedly. He walked to it, trying the door handle who didn't budge. 

"We're… locked in.." you tried. He nodded. 

You bit your lip, looking around the room. It was an old storage room, old chairs and desks laying around. You sighed, walking to a desk, sitting on top of it. 

You looked around again, trying to keep your attention on anything but the man standing, his arms crossed over his chest. You tried to look up, noticing his dark gaze on you. It sent a delightful shiver down your spine. 

"Why… are you looking at me like that?" You asked. 

"Why are you avoiding me?" 

The question made you freeze. You felt a ping of anger. 

"Avoiding you?" You repeated. 

"Yes." He snapped. 

"You've been hating my presence! How could I not?!" You snapped back. He seemed slightly taken aback. 

"What do you mean?" He asked. 

"You've been barely talking to me, during training you don't say more than two orders and you can't even bear to look at me!" The tears rose to your eyes. 

"Bear to look at you?! Fuck! I can't bear not looking at you!" He took a step closer. "I can't fucking take my eyes off of you. You've been, the only fucking thing on my mind…" 

You looked up at him, eyes looking for an ounce of lies in his words but you couldn't find none. 

"Why… were you so cold then?" You asked with a little confused frown.

"I… couldn't handle you not… wanting me too…" he answered honestly. You frowned again. 

You closed in the space between the both of your hands holding his face in your hands, making him stare at you, wide eyed. You wanted to say something. Tell him it wasn't true that you desperately wanted him. But the words kept bubbling in your throat, refusing to come out. You noticed a tiny flinch from him, as he was ready to step back. And you panicked. If you couldn't say anything. You'd show him. You brought his face down, rising to your tippy toes to drop a soft kiss on his clothed lips. 

Time froze. What a cheesy saying. Yet it felt exactly like that. When you separated, the feeling of the fabric on your lip was just as satisfying as it was frustrating. You looked away, embarrassed. His fingers met your chin, softly pushing up to make you look at him. His other hand pulled at his balaclava to bring it to his nose, revealing his mouth. You felt yourself completely melt as his lips finally met yours. 

You leant on him, your hands on his chest. The feeling of his tongue playing with your lip sent a heat between your legs. A moan escapes your lips making you blush. 

NSFW. 

His hands traveled on your sides, featherlight touches on your hips and waist. You needed more. His touch on your skin. 

"Darling… tell me to stop… and I will." He groaned against your neck. 

"Don't you dare stop Simon…" 

You felt the grin on his lips on the skin of your neck. He stepped forwards bringing you closer to a desk until your ass touched the edge. He grabbed your waist, pulling you up to sit you on it. You spread your thigh, allowing him to settle in between. His lips traveled, leaving kisses and bites on your neck until they found your lips once more. The more he kissed you, like he craved every inch of your body, the more you let him explore with the most relaxed moans you could mutter. 

His hands found the hem of your shirt, snaking underneath to feel the skin, warm and full of goosebumps. 

"Simon…" you breathed out. 

He looked back at you, unsure of his next step, wondering if you wanted him to stop. 

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, your own hands reaching for your shirt to remove it fully, allowing him to see your pretty black bra. 

"Shit…" he hissed. He leaned down, teeth and lips at your collar bone, making you giggle and gasp. You felt him reach for his shirt as he separated just long enough to throw it over his head. You pulled back as he frowned. Your eyes traveled up and down his chest, your hands following the path they chased. Scars littered the beautiful skin, black faded ink bringing a tint more of danger to his stance. His muscles flexed under your touch, his breath quickening. His hand wrapped softly around your wrists. 

"Baby… let me touch you please…" he groaned. 

"Can't I touch you too?" You teased. 

"Fuck… love you'll get to touch me whenever you fucking want… all of me. But please, right now let me make you mine." The last word was growled against your lips before he captured them into a hot kiss. You hummed against him, your legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer. You could feel his hard length through his pants. 

The way he slowly unclasped your bra, in a teasing way made you whine. His fingers felt cold, adrenaline rushing through him. Your nipples were hard from the excitement and freshness of them. He pinched and rolled them softly making you whimper and squirm. He let go of your lips in a little smirk, his eyes never leaving your as he lowered himself to lick one of your nipples. You sighed, biting your lip. He hummed against your skin fully taking it in his mouth. 

You let your head fall back the feeling of him sucking and biting softly making you shiver and buck unto him. 

"Simon… please…" you moaned. He chuckled. 

"I know princess, I know… I'm impatient too." 

The button of your pants was taken off, you raised your hips, helping him remove the annoying fabric, leaving you in panties when you kicked off your boots. Every little touch felt like too much yet not enough. The feeling of your hands resting against his chest made you ache for more, his grip on your flesh almost bruising now. 

His hand met the soft fabric of your panties, much too soaked already. You hummed against his lips, two of his fingers rubbing softly through the black panties. You rolled your hips desperate for more. He chuckled as he pushed the fabric aside, his two fingers now rubbing your clit in soft slow circles. You moaned, kissing his neck and biting his pulse there. The groan it elicited from him made you want to hear more. He granted you a finger at your entrance, pushing past to give you more. 

"Simon…" you whined. 

He kissed your temple, adding a second finger as his thumb still caressed your soft clit. He used his fingers to pump in and out, stretching you. His fingers grazed the perfect spot that made your hips jolt forward. 

"Found it." He grumbled against your ear. 

His new little treasure at the tip of his fingers now his perfect little plaything. He curled and rubbed at that sensitive spot, chills and trembles overtaking your body. You wanted to return the favor, your hand cupping him through his pants. He grunted, hips bucking into your hands as you rubbed him. It only encouraged him in his torturous touch, the feeling of your orgasm creeping over you. 

"S..Simon… I'm.." you tried. 

"I know baby. Go on. Let me feel it." He whispered, his eyes planted on yours. 

The wave of pleasure was deafening, your ears ringing as your mouth fell open in loud moans. You tried to keep eye contact but couldn't help letting your head fall back. 

"Good girl. Such a good girl for me." He praised. 

His fingers left your aching cunt, bringing him to his lips so he could taste you. He groaned at the taste, licking greedily. 

"Fuck… I'm going to get addicted to this.." 

You tried to hop off the desk, wanting nothing more than to return the favor. 

"Nu-uh. Where are you going little dove?" He asked. 

"I want to return the favor…" you answered, licking your lips. 

His shoulders flexed for a second. 

"Not now. I told you. I want to make you mine. Today is about you. And my cock filling you up." 

He had a keen sense of making you flustered with the things he said, right before capturing your lips like it was nothing. You rolled your hips against him, making him bite your lower lip softly. You giggled, feeling him separate. His hand on your stomach pushed you down on your back. You looked up at him as he lowered himself, teeth grazing and lips sucking at your inner thighs. 

"Simon… Please stop teasing…" he didn't answer, continuing his attack on your plush skin. "Simon make me yours!" You whined, your patience running out. 

He replied with a stronger bite, making you yelp before he stood again, towering you. The sight was divine, the man standing in between your legs, as his hands reached for his belt. The sound of it unbuckling made your heart jump, the promise of more only fueling the scorching warmth running though you. He lowered his pants, his boxer as well, his member finally free. 

"Shit.." you mumbled. 

"Thank you." He grinned. 

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks. Big yes. Thick? Good lord… You couldn't look away as he pumped himself a few times, the glistening drops at his tip smearing. You licked your lips again, wondering how it would taste on your tongue. He saw it. That little hidden movement. He brought his tip closer to your clit rubbing up and down with it as his fingers found your hole, two fingers slipping in easily. He pumped them a few times, making you gasp and moan. 

"Simon!" You whined again. 

"I know. But got to prepare you. Don't want to hurt you…" 

You felt your heart swell at his words. Strained voice as he tried to not give in to the pure need to be in you. When his fingers made their way out, coating his length with your sticky juices before bringing the tip at your entrance you almost felt like you'd moan right there. His thumb hovered over your clit ready to ease the tension. 

"You alright baby?" He asked, making you look at him. 

"Yes… please Simon…" you begged. 

He smiled, bucking his hips slowly, the tip pushing through your entrance at the slowest pace. He took his time, slowly easing himself into your tight warmth as he teased your sensitive bud to help with the burning stretch. Bottoming out, he groaned, gritting his teeth. 

"Fuck… so tight…" he hissed.

You felt so full, god it only made you feel completely owned by him. You rolled your hisp begging for him to move, but his hands reached for your hips, firmly keeping them down. 

"Baby… let it adjust…" he tried. 

You whined. He was on his last string of patience, holding back. You rolled your hips again and he pulled out before slamming back into earning something in between a yelp and moan from you. 

" 'nough playing…" he warned. 

He started at a steady pace, his hips thrusting into you deep as he held onto your thighs. The desk shook, noise mixing with the whimpers, moans and grunts. Cursed blessings spilling from lips out of divine pleasure. You held onto his forearms, nails softly scratching there. 

The chanting of his name wasn't enough. Your eyes never left each other, feelings shared by iris and blown pupils, little frowns and twitches, mouth agape. Full trust in gazes that made it more than just pleasure. It was abandonment. Kneeling and serving each other as a pledge of something far more than just affection. 

He pulled you closer to the edge of the desk, giving his thrust better access to you while he could lean down to bite and kiss your neck. Your arms around his back, hands and claws left pretty red fiery marks. You couldn't contain your voice anymore, if the boys were outside then damned my they be. After all, it was only the consequences of their actions, their little plan. And fuck were you glad of that little plan. 

His bit down on a sensitive spots where your pulse vibrated, making your arch your back and your plush walls pulse around him. It brought you to the edge as he sucked little marks on your skin. 

"S..imon…" you moaned. 

He raised his head, forehead on your as he kept his pace, only changing angle to better hit your little spot. You were trembling your orgasm ready to wash over you. His own thrusts faltered, his groans louder. You kissed him, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. He only separated for a second to breathe. A little second where he growled against your lips, sending you into a blinding orgasm. 

"Mine"

Ears ringing and cheeks tingling you let out the most pornographic moan you've ever heard echoing from your throat. It sent him over the edge, two powerful thrust making pulse and twitch as he filled your womb with his warm seed. 

Both panting, you remained like this, holding each other. 

"Simon…" you whined through heavy breaths. 

"Yes baby?" 

"Does… this mean…" you tried. 

"That you're mine? That I'm yours? That I'm never leaving you out of my sight ever again? Absolutely." 

You smiled against his lips, a little tired chuckle escaping past yours. Your phones vibrated, a little sound that brought you both back to reality. He grinned, dropping a kiss to your lips before straightening himself and slowly pulling out. You gasped as he groaned, his fingers immediately reaching to push back his cum inside making you blush. He grabbed his phone checking the messages while bringing your leg to his shoulder so he could drop kisses on it. 

"Price is reminding us that it's training time and that we're late…" he chuckled. 

"Oh!" You remembered. 

He smirked. 

"Come on love let's go then." 

"B..but! Simon! I'm…" you blushed again. 

"Full of my cum?" He teased. "Guess you'll have to handle it until training is over" he winked with a devilish grin. 

Damn that man. 

During the training session, Gaia could feel and probably smell it. She kept nudging your stomach, making you incredibly embarrassed in front of the team, while Riley looked proudly at his trainer as if he was congratulating him. He was probably seeing it as if Simon had claimed you and bred you which only made you blush even more. Simon was gloating over himself in a silent proud stance as you tried your best to ignore the wetness in between your thighs. 

[lurkdragonstuff]

I'm an atheist and a philosophical materialist. I don't think there's anything more to the universe than what can be observed and measured. Disagree if you want, that's fine, but take as read that this is where I'm coming from.

As you can imagine, this makes it very strange to me that my brain thinks I'm a dragon.

I have been trying to square this circle for years. Since around the 2000's, when I first made contact with the Internet, I would look in on the otherkin community, and the draconic community nested inside it, and I would think, man. I wish I could believe that. I wish I could believe that souls were real, and that I had one, and that it was a dragon, and that's why I was so odd. For quite a while, I just explained it as a furry fandom thing. Sure, yes, my fursona is feral, but ferals are furries, too. This is still true! I'm still in furry fandom, and my dragonself still acts as my fursona. But they are also, in a deeper sense, me.

I'm a secular pagan. I don't think gods exist, and I don't think magic is literally real. I can't really cast a curse on shitty charities. The moon's a big shiny rock. It doesn't care if I roar at it when the sun reflects off it just so and I can see the whole of its tidally locked face.

But my dragon brain doesn't know that. It likes the big shiny rock. It likes little shiny rocks, too. It likes to light things on fire, and considers this a sacred act, both bringing destruction to noxious things and bringing honour to things worthy of it. It likes to growl and hiss when things annoy it. It likes to collect things, to have a hoard. It likes to range around its territory, keeping an eye on what's around in what season. It finds it frustrating that its wings don't seem to work at all, and its other limbs barely better. It wants its tail back. It wants its fire breath.

I'm autistic. Sometimes speaking is hard, and I growl and hiss when things annoy me. I like to collect things related to my special interests; I have a sprawling collection of cetacean, Nintendo, and SEGA figurines, as well as lots of little animal figures. Plushies, too, and videogames, and books. I do wildlife photography, as well, marking who's around in what seasons. This is, to my frustration, limited a lot by waning energy because of chronic health problems.

If backed into a corner, to say what I really believe, of course I'm a human. It is in my DNA, expressed in a bipedal body plan, five fingers on the forelimbs only, nails and not claws, no wings, no muzzle, no tail, short neck, skin and fur instead of scales. Not even any horns. I find this frustrating, but it is what it is. I also find it frustrating when people call me 'she' and not 'they', and that really there is no feasible gender presentation that would guarantee that strangers would use the right word. The best I can hope for is that people will read the 'they/them' button on my hat, or otherwise call me 'he'. Still wrong, but at least novel.

I honestly think my draconic identity developed when I was younger as a way to explain why I was so weird. I have never been normal. I will never be normal. As an adult, I have fancy words like "autism" and "anxiety and depression secondary to post-traumatic stress disorder" and "seasonal affective disorder" to explain why I'm abnormal.

But a part of my brain, I think the same one that still believes in magic and deities even though I don't, tilts its head, then grins a sharp grin and says, "Cool story, bro. I'm still a dragon."

I generally have, for any given of my eccentricities, the philosophical materialist explanation (generally that I am either brainweird in some way or another or am playing pretend for placebo purposes to manage executive function etc.) and the dragon explanation (generally what the pretend play revolves around). But - and this is hard to explain - it isn't exactly playing pretend, either. It's me.

When I'm pretending to be Link, either playing a Zelda game or writing Zelda fanfic, Link isn't me. I might be inhabiting him as an actor, but he isn't me. When I play Animal Crossing, and I'm playing a character named after me, that's closer. It's me but greater. Me but more. Me existing in a life I wish I could have.

When I put on my mask, when I sit and daydream about the multiverse-hopping shenanigans I get up to, when I hiss at someone startling me by getting into my space, that's me. I'm not a dragon, I'm a human wearing a mask, daydreaming, hissing because "back the fuck off!" isn't allowed in the workplace.

Yeah. Cool story, bro.

I am still a dragon.

[citrous241]

1.21 is looking fire, but 1.22 has got to be an End update.

Minecraft has always had really good lore and story-telling, but does anyone else feel like the End is just missing something?

It's to be expected, it hasn't been updated for the last 7 years and the last update added more questions than answers. I feel like it's just on the cusp of being as clear as the rest of the game.

It's a dimension that's supposed to feel off, and uncanny. Literally the only track that plays is 15 minutes of warped mash-ups of Overworld tracks. End stone is just inverted Cobblestone.. etc. But even then it's still wrong.

I just have to know, Minecraft lore is built off of head canons but I'm just unable to form one that makes sense regarding the End. Endermen make sense, I believe they're warped and "evolved" humans. Eating only chorus makes them teleport, their long arms and bodies to reach the high snaking chorus plants, their larger eyes to see in perpetual darkness, etc. Their aversion to water is a wrench in that but I'm not perfect and my head canon isn't right. Endermen could have nothing to do with humans.

Shulkers and End Cities are what confounds me. Are Shulkers natural living organisms? The Dragon and Ender-men both have black skin and dark purple eyes but this thing has yellow skin and an almost magenta shell. I think they're some sort of automatons, but built by who? The ancient builders, the ones who evolved into Endermen? But the spiral staircases in the End Cities don't seem designed for humans (or maybe I just suck at climbing them) and the ceilings aren't really high enough for Endermen. Maybe Shulkers are another protector mob of their area. But protecting what? Protecting the means of personal flight maybe, but that looks nothing like the rest of the end - its literally made from the wings of the Phantoms of the Overworld.

End Cities themselves do kind of make sense to me, their architecture mimics the branches of a chorus plant. But whilst chorus seems to be the only natural thing in the End, the cities very much aren't. There's no way that structure would work under normal gravity. But surely the End just has weak gravity? Nope, it's the same as the Overworld.

Everything in the End just feels so artificial. The central island; with Obsidian pillars punching through the whole thing, a material that can only be made using 2 fluids that don't exist in the End, topped with a crystal made partially from the tears of a creature in another dimension and some sort of Eye which we can only make by killing an Enderman and fusing it's remains with the ground up remains of another creature from said other dimension. Also, it is so far away from the rest of the End, as if someone destroyed or moved these other islands away. The Dragon itself to, she works like no other mob. People say that she's a machine which I don't agree with, her erratic behaviour is because she is the only mob of her type and hasn't been updated like ever. I don't think she's native to the End though; Endermen, the only other creature in existence that looks like her, can be hostile to her.

Trying to piece this together as I'm writing this is making me think of a new head canon: The End is just a melting pot of travellers who got lost and stuck. Think of something like the Void from the Loki show. I think the End was initially just a mass of floating islands with the chorus fruit, in the Void between dimensions. Then the ancient builders arrived, constructing the obsidian pillars and the bedrock portal frame. I think they found something, maybe it could be whatever made the End Cities. But regardless, something dangerous. Something that made them separate the only way out of the dimension by several kilometres of Void, that made them create a Dragon to guard said way out. Something that made them sacrifice themselves by sealing themselves into the End.

There are a few holes in this. Maybe the ancient builders did build the End Cities before/after becoming Endermen. Maybe the danger was the Dragon, but why would it guard the exit portal? And I've kind of ignored the fact that Endstone is inverted Cobblestone, maybe the whole dimension if artificial? Built by the ancient builders entirely? Or maybe the End was spawned from ancient humanities collective mind, like a sort of yin to their yang.

I would love an End update to add a few things. I don't like most popular ideas or mods for an End update, as they often stray too far from what the End is. I would like to be able to find whatever gravity-defying sentient race built the End Cities, maybe they could also be warped into Endermen like the ancient builders were - but could still have a sense of self and humanity, or maybe they're some sort of Phantom People. I would like to find this danger that caused the ancient builders to sacrifice themselves, a new huge boss at the edge of the End would be awesome. I would also like, if they made them less annoying that is, for Phantoms to spawn in the End just normally. They feed on Insomnia right? What's more insomniac then an entire dimension where it's always night and nothing can sleep?

I would also like purple chorus wood lol.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hey, just a thought I've had about Fleur and Veela in general that's been floating in my head, and I thought you might appreciate it; I don't think Veela have hybrid offspring. Unless they reproduce asexually, there are male Veela, or two female Veela can produce an offspring, than all Veela have a non-Veela parent. The books don't really give Veela much attention, so all of that is certainly possible, but I like to consider other possibilities. We never see Fleur describe herself as quarter-Veela, correct me if I'm wrong, but it was only ever other charcters saying she was rumored to be quarter-Veela. This may be a rumor spread by Fleur's family: non-wizards aren't allowed to carry wands, at least in Britain, treating her like a witch with Veela ancestory would improve how she was treated immensely. I mean, like how parents with black hair and blonde hair wouldn't really have a child with both their hair colors. It's be whichever one is dominant. I consider Veela to be the dominant trait. Maybe all daughters are Veela, and sons non-Veela. Essentially, there is no thing as a pure Veela, or maybe, all Veela give birth to pure Veelas, and claiming a partial inheritance gives them better rights in the wizarding world. Just my headcanon I guess.

I'm not sure about that... Like, my knee-jerk reaction is that there is a difference between part-Veela and ful-Veela.

Like, the main reason I say that is that Harry has a different reaction to full-Veelas than to Fleur (and even her mother who should be a hlaf-Veela):

Looking careworn, she [Fleur] left the room. Ron still seemed slightly punch-drunk; he was shaking his head experimentally like a dog trying to rid its ears of water. “Don’t you get used to her if she’s staying in the same house?” Harry asked. “Well, you do,” said Ron, “but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then . . .”

(HBP, 93)

Harry has no reaction to Fleur's Veela magic. None. Even though others do react to them. Same with Fleur's mother who Harry notes is beautiful, but he isn't reacting to the magic:

Mr. Weasley, who appeared at the gate moments later, laden with luggage and leading a beautiful blonde woman in long, leaf-green robes, who could only be Fleur’s mother.

(DH, 107)

I think that is because he's gay (or at least not interested in women). But even he still reacts to the magic of full-Veela:

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry’s question was answered for him. Veela were women . . . the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen . . . except that they weren’t — they couldn’t be — human. This puzzled Harry for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-bright like that, or their white-gold hair fan out behind them without wind . . . but then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human — in fact, he stopped worrying about anything at all. [...] And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through Harry’s dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea . . . but would it be good enough? “Harry, what are you doing?” said Hermione’s voice from a long way off. The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

(GoF, 103)

Similarly, the full-Veela in the Quidditch World Cup have abilities Fleur doesn't seem to have:

At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, Harry saw that they didn’t look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders —

(GoF, 111)

Additionally, the fact that Veela can get pregnant and reproduce with humans kind of erases the option of asexual reproduction. Yeah, I know they're magic, but if they didn't need to get pregnant the regular human way for the continuation of their species, they wouldn't be capable of it (especially as the Harry Potter version of Veela aren't immortal like their folklore variants). So, that brings us to the lack of male Veela.

You are right that male Veela are pretty necessary to have a difference between full-Veelas and part-Veelas. While the Harry Potter books don't really give an answer regarding Veela reproduction, I went to the mythology JKR based on them.

"Veela" is an Anglicized form of the name "Vila" which is a fairy-like spirit from Slavic folklore portrayed as a nature spirit like nymphs in Greek Mythology. Both nymphs and Vila are portrayed as only women, but they are also portrayed as minor deities, as immortal and eternal like the nature they represent with abilities the Harry Potter Veela do not have. Veela very in mythology quite a bit but they tend to be shapeshifters often living in a water source. Regardless, they are only female in myth as well and I couldn't find anything about their births. I found one source that claimed a child of a Veela and a human man would be a half-Veela but it didn't discuss how full Veela came into being. Since the mythology Veela are immortal spirits of nature they are born out of trees and rivers, representing nature itself. So, unless this is the case in Harry Potter (I don't think it fits the worldbuilding much) this front didn't give us answers.

So, I went to Bill and Fleur's wedding to see if I could spot a potential male Veela or male part Veela. And the answer is I couldn't. It also seems like all part-Veela share the same hair, eyes, skin color, and general appearance regardless of who the father is, so you are right about the Veela gens being the more dominant ones (Fleur and Gabrielle are both described with silvery blond Veela hair like their mother, even though their father has black hair and is described as plump).

So, yeah, speaking of the info we have in canon it's actually possible part-Veela don't really exist and that Veela can just choose to activate their charming magic in a more active way (that affects Harry, like in the Quidditch World Cup) or not and remain with just their passive charm (that doesn't affect Harry). But this doesn't really give an answer to the extra abilities full-Veela seem to have that part-Veela don't.

Another issue I have with this theory is that if Veela were indeed born this way for centuries, there is no way anyone would believe Fleur is a quarter-Veela. I mean, wizards are dense often enough, but I don't think they are that stupid. They would know how Veela reproduce and then not believe said rumors.

I think JKR just didn't think through all the implications of how she portrayed Veela...

Point is, your headcanon is possible, and you can headcanon it but I personally prefer to think of Fleur as a quarter-Veela and believe male Veela do exist. Because they do sorta exist in myth.

There are Näcken from German and Scandinavian folklore that are shapeshifting water spirits that are portrayed as handsome men, they occasionally lure people to their deaths and occasionally fall in love with human women and go live with them. The Näcken in Scandinavian folklore are always portrayed as male. In German mythology Nixie or Nixe can be either male or female from what I read. So, male Veela could exist and just potentially be known by a different name with slightly different abilities.

I mean, the Veela in Harry Potter attract people with dancing and music, the Näcken plays the violin to lure people to drown. Both are shapeshifters that are spirits of nature (Veela in various locations: forests, air, and water while the Näcken are only associated with water). Both are sometimes malevolent and sometimes helpful to humans. There are a lot of similarities so I like to headcanon them as sorta of the same species but with different typical appearance and name, hence the confusion.

So in a sense, there are no full-Veela males, but the other similar creatures, Näcken. Now, I'm not sure if half-Veela and half-Näcken would be the same or different, but that's a whole other discussion and goes more heavily into my headcanons.

I can't speak to what JKR intended, but your headcanon is possible. I just prefer to imagine "male Veela" and "male part-Veela" are out there somewhere (the quotation marks because they use a name that isn't Veela, the full ones at least).

[beef-brisket]

✨️"Head" Hunter✨️

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

The Pride Ring was once again in chaos as the annual extermination took place. The only sound that came from Pentagram city were the screams of sinners and the rally cried of the exorcists.

Walking down a main street of the city, Adam was swinging his axe as he looked for sinners. Although, this year, he had something special planned for that loser king.

He was almost laughing thinking about it.

Adam stopped when he heard commotion coming from a nearby ally, then, a short, pale sinner ran out, tripping over his feet when he saw Adam.

Sinner: Ah! F-Fuck!

Adam laughed when he ran back down the ally: Eh, you'll do.

The sinner was trying to pull open a door that was clearly locked. The man jumped away when he saw Adam walking over to him.

Sinner: No, no, no- hey, man-! I wasn't doing anything!

Adam hummed as the sinner took off further into the ally. Unfortunately for him, Adam knew it was a dead end. He's so desperate to stay alive that the commander of the exorcists almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

As the darkness of the ally got thicker, the sinner ran into a building wall that closed off the ally.

Turning around, the sinner pressed his back against the wall. He was shaking, his eyes wide with terror as the imposing figure of the head exorcist got closer and closer.

He didn't know where to look, at the sick, sadistic smile of the man's face or that golden axe that was more red than anything.

Sinner: S-Sir- hey, please! I- I- fuck- I'm sorry- for bothering you- I was just- I thought-.

Adam: Dude, fucking breathe, you're annoying me with all this bullshit rambling.

Sinner: I-... sorry- you're right...

Adam smirked: I know I am, bitch~. So, what's you name?

The sinner stated at the man's face. He always thought the commander was a kill first and never asked questions kind of guy.

Sinner: Is... this a trick?

Adam glared at the sinner, sending shivers down his spine: Do I look like a fucking clown to you, cunt? I asked you a fucking question.

Sinner: S-Sorry! I'm- I'm Beau...

Adam: Well, man. This is your lucky night~.

Beau's eyes widened, looking between Adam's mask and his axe: Lucky night... really? Oh, that's a relief, sir.

Adam: Yeah... isn't it~?

-

Lucifer sat on his balcony, sipping from a mug. The extermination was ending, so the hundreds of exorcists were flying up through the bright, heavenly portal that clashed with the Pride Rings red sky.

He couldn't make out many features of the angels, but he could always pick one out.

Adam.

He was a stark contrast to the other angels, and even to Hell itself. Between his large golden wings, to his angelic clothes, Lucifer could pick him out no matter how far away he was.

Lucifer followed the first man as he entered the portal. Once it closed, he released the breath he didn't know he was holding. He always hated extermination day for multiple reasons. The screams always gave him a headache, and his rage always got the better of him if he watched the devastation for too long.

That's why he spent his time in his office designing different ducks, but he'd always walk out when the angels were leaving. He wasn't sure why he did it. Maybe it was hatred or wanting to confront the angels for everything they were doing.

But at the end of the day, Lucifer sighed the contract.

Looking over Pentagram city, Lucifer took him the damage. The blood flooded streets were unusually empty, and fires raged across the city. Lucifer was surprised that it took nearly three and a half minutes for the screams to start again.

As Lucifer walked back inside, he felt his phone buzz. He couldn't help the way his heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was Charlie. After all this time.

Pulling his phone out of his jacket, he red the new message.

Lucifer growled, clenching his fist, his mug exploded from the pressure, shards falling to the floor.

Lucifer: Motherfucker...

Glaring at his phone, Lucifer took in the picture that got sent to him from an unknown number, although it was very obvious who the message was from.

A bloody, grotesque image was opened on his phone. A very dead sinner was wearing an ensemble that looked too close to Lucifer's white ringleader suit.

His body was carved and broken. It was honestly a surprise that there was any white left of suit, it was... disturbing.

His head was torn off and lifted up. What made Lucifer glare wasn't the state of the body, but the fact it was made to look like him. Blood was smeared on his cheeks to mimic Lucifer's.

But, there was one thing that stood out o Lucifer, something that really, really, pissed him off.

Adam was standing on the body, holding the detached head by the hair.

The photo was taken from a lower angle, showing off Adam's long leg and heavy spiked heeled boot, which was pressing into the back of the very dead sinner.

Moving up the picture, Lucifer growled when he focused on Adam's face.

The first man was flipping him off, his long tongue sticking out. Taunting Lucifer. His grip tightened on his phone, was this fucker threatening him?!

That's when his phone buzzed again. Another message from the same number, except this time, it's a message.

Unknown: "Too bad the apple couldn't keep the big bad exorcist away ;)".

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

me: don't think about it

me: Charlie going to the demon over lords like "hey look! heaven attacked and we fought and (mostly) didn't die and a sinner got yeeted up to heaven! Will you please support my (newly rebuilt) hotel now??"

(most) demon over lords looking at charlie like: shit the second most powerful person currently in hell, who was BORN with that power, is trying to fuck up the power that WE clawed our way to the top of (she's ruining it by giving sinners hope) (meaning they won't be so eager to sell themselves off to bigger demons) (meaning bigger demons will have less power) (if she has it her way they'll be fewer sinners at ALL) (which won't work) (bc this is all still Stupid) (BUT) (if the people of hell start thinking they have a chance...) AND she wants us to stick OUR necks on the line in the fight against heaven (who don't traditionally go after her or her family anyway but love hunting US) now she's also got her dad actively backing her up, so we can't just say a flat "no" or try fighting her over it, especially not since she's shown herself to be not so lame after all.... we need a way to get all of hell doubting and mistrusting her, so they don't go to her hotel thing instead of to us... but what can we use against her? what weak spot does she h-

over lords, looking over at charlie's girlfriend vaggie, and her newly returned, never-before mentioned angel wings: ......Hmmm...

charlie: trying to explain that her gf WAS an exorcist yes ok, and sure she DID kill lots of sinners but- No charlie didn't know that when they started dating but they've worked through it and vaggie- look she fought on hell's side during the hotel battle she was right there with charlie up in heaven advocating for sinners getting a second chance-

What? Yeah she, she went back to heaven that one time. No I guess she's not banished exactly, they just tore off her wings and left her to die here after she- NO she does NOT want to go back- yes ok she COULD but she doesn't WANT to, the hotel is her home now and- look she almost died fighting for it-

it wasn't a LIE, she just, she was scared and didn't tell the truth! What do you mean "can't trust your judgment"? I know her and I knew she'd have my back and she DID, the whole POINT of the hotel, which WORKS by the way, is that people can change-

NO SHE ISN'T SPYING ON US FOR HEAVEN! she hates them! no I'm not "just" saying that because "she said so" I can TELL we've been together for THREE YEARS- YES FINE SHE WAS HIDING SOMETHING FROM ME ALL THAT TIME OKAY but look at what she's done and been DOING! Yes, thank you Caramilla- she got her wings back and used them to fight for- she- WHAT?! NO! She's the hotel manager- she's OUR hotel's manager- she can't leave, that's- wh- fire her? It's her HOME! I'm her partner not her boss!! No I'm not listening to this! This is stupid- the whole hotel wouldn't even BE a thing if I hadn't MET her and it wouldn't work without her! I-

vaggie: I'll go vaggie: charlie's being modest. she's got things covered here vaggie: I'll be hell's spy in heaven, if it'll help. IF you all support the hotel.

and the overlords smile and promise-

(of course of course they will, really, it's nothing against her just a little PR issue, a matter of building trust, so naturally she'll report only to them yes? she and charlie will make a little deal not to contact each other otherwise? they're just worried, you see, wouldn't want an angel taking advantage of the princess of hell's confidence again, so glad she understands)

-nice and sharp and already watching eagerly as charlie's newfound backbone crumples while she stares at vaggie, wordless again just like up in heaven, and doesn't react when vaggie takes her hand and gives her a pleading look-

back at the hotel, alone, vaggie is swapping out her hotel vest for the clothes she was in when they met, wrinkled and crammed at the bottom of drawer, while charlie sits on their bed refusing to watch. vaggie doesn't pack for heaven. she walks over with just her spear and holds it out- here. she'll feel better, about being away, if charlie keeps this with her. charlie doesn't take it. charlie doesn't answer. charlie's crying and she latches on tight when vaggie drops the spear to hug her. she should've been able to stop this- she can't keep the hotel running on her- she doesn't WANT to TRY doing this alone-

she won't be. vaggie reminders her, lucifer and the others are all here, charlie isn't alone anymore. she's got the hotel. she's GOT this. and vaggie will come back

but she's tired of being scared and she's not gonna risk both their dream because of it. not again.

so, vaggie goes to heaven, supposedly to help sir pentious settle into his new life up there, with the help of emily to smooth things over and the fact that adam and lute swept her under the rug instead of making her fall an official thing- and considering the circumstances, emily argues, they were in the wrong anyway, especially now a sinner HAS been redeemed

meanwhile charlie stays in hell, at the hotel, without her.

and she's short tempered with worry, impatient with the everyday problems of the hotel- vaggie up in heaven with LUTE the woman who ripped out her eye ripped off her wings tried to kill her- all because charlie couldn't convince the overlords- couldn't convince (wasn't enough to convince?) vaggie to STAY- and,

the other's notice, notice that asking how things are NOW is too raw but asking about the past is easier, lighter, get's charlie lost in memory instead of on of her worry spirals, and there's flashbacks of them getting together- there's vaggie up in heaven quiet and listless as she shadows sir pentious around keeping lute at bay and he looks over at her nervously, he brings up how much he misses cherri, and how he could use a few relationship tips for when she (surely) eventually ends up here too-

charlie and vaggie, both of them apart in the present, neither of them okay, maybe vaggie's snooping up in heaven leads her to lilith and gets her in trouble- maybe charlie makes deals she regrets down in hell trying to keep things going without her- but we see them in the past, together, and them pulling on those memories now, trying to get back to each other again

or something like that.