#five nights worth of adventure~

[toonsforkicks22]

A new nightly adventure just for Pomni~

SHOP

[peculiarphantomphoenix]

I don't know why, but every once in a while, I get the urge to watch random lore/timeline videos.

Is this just me?

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Trinkets

Five presents Jason brought you back from his adventures and one you asked for. (+ one) ~1.2k words of fluff

Jason Todd brings you home gifts from his missions, which wouldn't be a problem, but he never really explains what they are.

The first time it happened, you had laughed at the green ring with a lantern symbol in the middle. It looked cheesy, like one of the fake ones you can buy from the superhero merch stores littered around malls and outlets.

You'd kissed his cheek in thanks, put it on your shelf, and never gave it a second thought.

At least you didn't, until a bright green glow woke you up from your sleep. You'd sat up immediately, jaw practically dropping to the sheets as the ring lifted itself off your shelf and flew out the window.

Jason barely budged, his arm still thrown over your waist. He let out yawn and cuddled closer before speaking, voice groggy and heavy, "Huh. Didn't think they noticed that one was gone."

"They," You half yell, voice pitching as you stare at his outline, hidden in the shadows of the room.

"The Guardians, babe," he yawns out, "They're in charge of the space cops. Just go back to sleep."

Naturally, you do not go back to sleep. You drag him to the kitchen, make tea, and demand he explains why a Green Lantern ring was in your apartment. (He's very happy to)

The second time it happens, you're much more wary of the gift he brings home. But to be fair, he can't really pass off an Amazonian steel sword as something he just picked up.

It doesn't take as much convincing as it should for you to let him mount it on your wall. But it's a sword! No one can blame you for thinking it looks cool in your living room.

It turns out keeping it around is pretty useful, because a few weeks later, your boyfriend crawls through your window, dressed head to toe in armor.

"Hey, doll," he drawls, "Can I borrow your sword?"

"Sure," You chirp back, more preoccupied with your book as he saunters over to the sword, "what for?"

"Artie's got confiscated, and we haven't gotten to steal it back yet," he supplies, stopping long enough to pull his helmet up and kiss your head.

"Oh, that sucks," You answer, offhandedly, "Give her and Bizzaro my love."

"You got it, babe," he chirps already halfway out your window.

He does bring your sword back, covered in green blood, but no worse for wear. It still looks great on your wall.

He brings you a box next. It's kind of ugly looking, but you thank him nonetheless.

"Be careful with it," he tells you as you flip it over in your hands, "It opens boom tubes."

You almost drop it, and if you hadn't already experienced the power ring, you would have shrieked at him. Instead, you manage to put it down very carefully and calmly ask, "It does what?"

"Open boom tubes," he answers, which clears absolutely nothing up, "I figured we could use it to country hop for our next date night. You know, dinner in Paris, drinks in Dubai, dessert in LA."

"Okay," You answer slowly, as if that makes complete sense.

It turns out, it does. Date night is lovely, and making out with your boyfriend on a random beach in Spain is very, very nice.

Batman waiting in your apartment to take back the boom box isn't so nice, though.

Jason tells you it was worth it. He's absolutely right.

The third thing Jason brings you is a plant. Flowers aren't a rare show of affection from him, but ones that move are.

"Uh, thank you, Jason," You start, prodding at the moving petals, they nuzzle your fingers the same way a kitten would, "But I don't know how to take care of these."

"Same way you take care of any other plant, water, fertilizer, nutrients, all that fun stuff," he says fondly, stroking a few of the petals.

"What if it gets sick," You ask, uncertain.

"We'll call Ivy," he says, unbothered.

"Right. Ivy. Poison Ivy. Who you know," You mumble, but the little plant is already worming its way into your heart. (You affectionately name it Daisy, for no other reason then it sways happily when you say that name)

The fourth thing Jason brings you makes you laugh because you know exactly what it is, "Jason, we can't keep this."

"Why not," he pleads, shaking the bright green quiver filled with arrows at you.

You giggled harder, smiling wide as you shake your head at him, "We don't even know what those do. Don't some of those explode?"

"So what," he huffs, practically pouting, "We can ask Roy. And it's not like I don't know my way around explosives."

"I guess so," You relent, trying to stifle your laughs as you inspect the bright green arrows, "How did you even get this?"

His eyes light up mischievously, "Do you really want to know?"

You stop short and narrow your eyes at him, "I would lose my plausible deniability."

"But you wanna know," he says, sly and playful.

You do. (It involves mutated chickens, tar, and one distracted Oliver Queen. You hang the quiver next to the sword)

Jason's getting ready to leave, bags packed and helmet lazy held under his arm, "Can I bring you back anything specific, doll" he asks, his free hand resting comfortably against your cheek, "Lasso of Truth? Maybe something with magic?"

You grin at him, leaning into his touch, "I actually do have something in mind."

"Oh," he prompts, eyes glinting with excitement.

"I want to complete my batarang collection."

He falters, "Your– what?"

"No one has," You exclaim, pulling away to showcase your collection, "I have Nightwings, Batgirls, Batmans, yours, of course, one of Robin's. But I'm missing Spoilers, Batwomans, Signals, and Red Robins."

He blinks at you, "That's– if that's what you want."

You giggle at how dumbfounded he looks, practically bouncing back over to him to kiss him, "Thank you, Jason."

He catches your waist and pulls you back in for another, longer kiss that leaves you both breathless and panting. His voice lowers, like it's a secret, "I'll bring you back some batarangs. See you in a few days?"

"See you in a few days," You echo, and he winks at you as he tugs on his helmet, leaving out your window.

Sure enough, you get your batarangs when he gets home. It takes some convincing, a few kisses that leave you senseless, but you get Jason to help you mount your batarang collection alongside the sword and quiver.

"I should get you a plasma rifle next," he drawls, admiring your growing wall of weapons.

"I think I'd fall over if I tried to shoot one of those," You point out, all smiles.

"I'll teach you," he tells you, hooking an arm around your waist to draw you closer.

Jason's a man of his word, and sure enough, he brings you home a plasma cannon after his next mission.

You only destroy most of the shooting range in the batcave when he lets you try it out.

[amethystarachnid]

SKY ROCKETS AND ROBOTS - part I

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff, some angst, a little bit of spicy

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Part 2

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5k

ᯓ★ TW(s): Y/N's ex left her when she got pregnant, Tony is a softie here

ᯓ★ Timeline: before the Avengers were formed

ᯓ★ Request: Tony stark × reader! single mom please? With fluff and smut 😅😅💐 ( @binsan)

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

You were once a bright young engineer, fresh out of MIT with dreams as big as the sky. You had a passion for technology, a sharp mind, and a heart full of ambition. Then life happened, in ways you never expected. You met someone, fell in love, and things moved fast. Maybe too fast. A whirlwind romance turned into an unexpected pregnancy, and before you knew it, you were a mother to a beautiful baby girl named Lily.

But your partner? He wasn’t ready. He disappeared from your life, leaving you alone to figure things out. At first, it was overwhelming, balancing work, the responsibilities of motherhood, and the heartbreak of abandonment. But you pulled through. You took up freelance work, designing software and small tech solutions from home, juggling conference calls while nursing, coding through the night after bedtime. You got used to it, became stronger, more resilient. Now, your daughter is five, a bundle of energy and curiosity who’s inherited your love for science and technology.

You’ve come a long way since those early days of struggle, but there’s still a part of you that wonders if you’ll ever find someone who’ll love both you and Lily. Someone who won’t run at the first sign of difficulty.

And then one day, you meet Tony Stark.

🚀

You don’t expect your day to take a turn like this. It’s a warm Saturday afternoon, and you’re at a local science expo — a rare treat for you and Lily. She’s dragging you from one exhibit to another, her little hands pulling on yours with excited tugs. It’s moments like these that remind you why you push so hard. Seeing her wide-eyed and full of wonder makes every sleepless night worth it.

You’re at an exhibit featuring cutting-edge AI when you feel her stop abruptly.

“Mommy, look! That's Iron Man!” Lily’s voice is filled with awe as she points to the tall figure standing a few feet away, surrounded by a small crowd. You follow her finger, and your heart skips a beat.

Tony Stark.

There’s no mistaking him, dressed in a sharp blazer and sunglasses, exuding that signature arrogance and charm you’ve only ever seen on TV. He’s in the middle of a casual conversation with someone, but even from here, you can feel the aura of importance surrounding him.

“Yeah, that’s Iron Man,” you murmur, feeling a bit like a deer in headlights. You hadn’t expected to run into someone like him.

But Lily, being the fearless little adventurer she is, takes off running toward him before you can stop her. You’re quick on her heels, heart pounding as you call her name.

“Lily, wait!”

But it’s too late. She’s already tugging on Tony Stark’s pant leg by the time you catch up, looking up at him with those wide, curious eyes.

“Hi, Iron Man! I like your robots,” she says brightly, as if she’s talking to any random adult. Tony glances down, pulling his sunglasses off to reveal a pair of surprisingly kind eyes as he kneels to her level.

“Hey there, kiddo. You’ve got good taste.” He flashes a grin, and for a moment, you see why people love him so much. There’s something disarming about his easy confidence.

You finally reach them, feeling flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry—she’s… really into tech. She didn’t mean to—”

But Tony waves a hand dismissively, standing up to his full height and giving you a once-over. His gaze lingers just a fraction too long, and you suddenly feel like you’re under a microscope.

“No harm done,” he says, his tone surprisingly light. “She’s got a future, clearly. Knows how to pick role models.”

You chuckle awkwardly, still trying to process that you’re standing in front of the Tony Stark. Up close, he’s even more intimidating, but in a weirdly magnetic way. There’s a spark in his eyes that speaks of brilliance, mischief, and something deeper you can’t quite put your finger on.

“She loves Iron Man,” you say, trying to regain some composure. “She’s been obsessed with building things since she could stack blocks. I can’t seem to keep her away from anything mechanical.”

Tony arches a brow, glancing down at Lily who’s now excitedly talking about the miniature rocket she tried to build last week.

“Is that so?” he says, crouching down again, giving Lily his full attention. “A mini rocket, huh? Did it work?”

Lily shakes her head, her pigtails swaying. “It almost did. But it went boom.”

Tony chuckles, ruffling her hair lightly. “Sometimes that’s how the best inventions start. Next time, try using a lower combustion rate. Less ‘boom,’ more ‘whoosh.’”

You’re surprised by how gentle he is with her, how effortlessly he connects with a child, that you don't have the heart to tell him that it was you who did the major part of the building process. For a moment, you just watch them, your chest tightening at the sight of Lily’s joy. It’s rare for her to interact with anyone like this, especially someone who doesn’t treat her like a kid.

He stands up again, turning to you with a smirk. “She’s smart. Gets it from her mom?”

You flush slightly at the compliment, feeling a bit tongue-tied under his gaze. “I guess you could say that. I was an engineer before…” You trail off, not sure why you’re suddenly oversharing. Something about Tony Stark makes it hard not to.

Before you can say more, he interrupts. “Let me guess — you’re still an engineer. Just doing the mom-engineer thing now. That’s no small feat.”

You blink, caught off guard by how perceptive he is. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I know a thing or two about multitasking. Running a company and saving the world — it’s basically the same as raising a kid, right?”

You laugh despite yourself, relaxing a little. He’s not what you expected. Less distant, more… human.

“Sure, except your robots actually listen to you,” you quip, and Tony grins.

“Most of the time,” he admits. “So, any chance I could take a look at that rocket project? I’ve got a thing for fixing ‘booms.’”

Your heart skips again at the casual offer, but before you can reply, Lily pipes up, bouncing on her toes.

“Can we, Mommy? Please?”

You glance between her eager face and Tony’s amused expression. This is surreal. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at both of you — like he’s actually interested, not just humoring a fan. Like he sees you.

Maybe this isn’t a bad idea after all.

As you walk beside Tony Stark, weaving through the crowd, you can't quite believe what's happening. This kind of thing doesn't happen to people like you. Yet here you are, with Lily practically skipping ahead, chattering excitedly about rockets and robots, while Tony listens with genuine interest.

“So,” he says, glancing sideways at you, “what’s your theory on the combustion failure? Too much fuel or not enough stabilization?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden technical question. You’d been bracing yourself for more of his charm or sarcasm, but here he is, actually engaging with you on a deeper level. You’re impressed, though it makes sense—he is Tony Stark, after all.

“Stabilization, mostly,” you reply, falling into a rhythm of conversation. “The design was sound, but we didn’t account for the weight distribution. It shifted mid-launch and threw everything off.”

He nods thoughtfully, like he's analyzing every detail. “Classic mistake. I had a similar issue with one of my early suits—though, you know, a little less ‘mini rocket,’ a little more ‘metal suit crashing into a building.’ Same basic concept, though.”

You laugh at the mental image, feeling a bit more at ease. “Yeah, I imagine the stakes were a little higher for you.”

Tony shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, let’s just say property damage and I have a complicated relationship.”

Lily turns around, walking backward as she looks up at Tony with wide eyes. “Did you blow up a building?!”

He grins, glancing down at her. “A few, but mostly on purpose. Don’t try that at home, kid.”

Lily giggles, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She’s clearly in awe of him, and it’s hard to blame her. You feel a bit of that awe yourself, though you’re trying not to show it.

“So, where’s this rocket of yours?” Tony asks, glancing around like he's half-expecting it to pop out of nowhere.

You clear your throat, feeling a bit sheepish. “Oh, um… it’s back at our apartment. We didn’t exactly bring it to the expo. I wasn’t expecting to run into… well, you.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing more pronounced. “What, you don’t carry failed rocket prototypes everywhere you go? Amateur move.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Tony taps his chin, pretending to think hard. “Tell you what. Why don’t you two swing by my place later? I’ve got a full lab, and I’m sure we can find something that won’t blow up—at least not right away.”

Your heart skips at the offer. Is he serious? Inviting you to Stark Tower like it’s the most casual thing in the world? You glance down at Lily, who’s looking up at you with pleading eyes, clearly hoping you’ll say yes.

“Are you sure?” you ask, trying not to sound too shocked. “I mean, we wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Tony waves a hand dismissively. “Intrude? Nah. Besides, I’ve been meaning to show off my new toys to someone who actually appreciates them. Kids are way better at that than most adults.” He glances down at Lily, then adds with a wink, “Plus, I’ve got juice boxes.”

Lily practically jumps up and down. “Mommy, can we go? Please, please, please?”

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the surreal situation. But something about Tony’s easy demeanor, the way he’s connected with Lily, and even the way he’s made you feel comfortable makes it hard to say no. It’s not every day you get a chance like this, and you know Lily will talk about it for weeks if you turn it down.

“Alright,” you say, giving in with a smile. “I guess we’re going to Stark Tower.”

Tony grins, looking genuinely pleased with your answer. “Great. Let’s make it a field trip.”

🚀

An hour later, you find yourself walking through the sleek, high-tech halls of Stark Tower. The whole place feels like something out of a futuristic movie, and you can’t help but feel a little out of place. But Tony, ever the showman, makes sure neither you nor Lily feel that way for long.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he says with a grand gesture, like he’s introducing you to some royal palace. “I was going for ‘modest,’ but you know, things escalated.”

Lily’s eyes are practically bugging out of her head as she looks around, taking in the shiny surfaces, the impressive tech displays, and the overall coolness of the place. “This is so cool,” she breathes.

You can’t help but agree. “Yeah, this is… incredible.”

Tony leads you both to his lab, where holograms flicker in the air, and sleek machines hum quietly in the background. It’s every bit as impressive as you’d imagined—maybe more so. He walks over to a workbench, tapping a few buttons on a console until a holographic blueprint of a rocket hovers in front of him.

“Alright, kiddo,” he says, crouching down to Lily’s level. “Let’s see what we’re working with. Tell me about your rocket.”

Lily beams, launching into an enthusiastic explanation of her project, complete with wild hand gestures. Tony listens intently, nodding at all the right moments, occasionally throwing in a comment or suggestion.

You stand back, watching the two of them interact. It’s surreal, seeing Tony Stark—the Tony Stark—so genuinely engaged with your daughter. He’s patient, encouraging, and—despite his usual sarcasm—there’s a warmth in the way he talks to her that catches you off guard.

As Lily finishes her explanation, Tony stands up and looks over at you. “Sounds like you’ve got a real prodigy on your hands.”

You smile, feeling a swell of pride. “She’s pretty special, yeah.”

Tony taps his chin thoughtfully, then flashes you a grin. “You know, I don’t usually offer internships to five-year-olds, but I could make an exception.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe in a few years.”

“Fair enough,” Tony replies, still grinning. “But seriously, if she ever wants a tour of the lab—or you do—just say the word.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by the offer. “You’re full of surprises today.”

Tony shrugs, nonchalant. “What can I say? I’m a generous guy. Plus, I like hanging out with people who don’t try to sell me on their latest ‘groundbreaking’ invention every five minutes.”

The three of you spend the next hour tinkering with the rocket design. Tony gives Lily some gentle guidance, teaching her a few tricks of the trade while making sure to keep things light and fun. You can tell she’s having the time of her life, and honestly, so are you. You’ve never seen her this animated, this confident.

As the afternoon winds down, Tony walks you both back to the lobby, hands in his pockets, his usual easy smirk back in place.

“Well, that was fun,” he says. “I’ll have my people send over the specs we worked on. Maybe next time, we can tackle world domination.”

You chuckle. “I’ll let you know if we’re free for that.”

Tony winks at Lily, who’s practically buzzing with excitement. “And hey, kid—next time you’ve got a rocket that goes ‘boom,’ give me a call. We’ll fix it together.”

Lily grins, waving enthusiastically. “Okay! Bye, Iron Man!”

As you leave Stark Tower, you can’t help but glance back at Tony one last time. He gives you a casual wave before turning back toward his lab, and you can’t shake the feeling that today was more than just a chance encounter.

It feels like the beginning of something. Something new. Something… different.

And you can’t wait to see where it goes.

🚀

Over the next few weeks, your life takes on a surreal, almost dream-like quality as Tony Stark begins to weave his way into your world. What starts as a few casual meet-ups, mostly centered around Lily’s fascination with all things tech, turns into something much more.

The first time he invites you both back to Stark Tower, it’s under the pretense of helping Lily with her latest invention—a robot that she’s determined to build from scratch. You sit back, watching as Tony patiently explains complex concepts to your five-year-old daughter, all while making it fun for her. There’s a tenderness in the way he interacts with her that surprises you. Tony Stark, the world-renowned billionaire with a reputation for being difficult, is kind and patient with a child, in ways you never would have expected.

You’re impressed, of course. But more than that, you find yourself drawn to the man behind the Iron Man persona.

It starts with little things. The way Tony catches your eye when Lily says something particularly cute or brilliant, the small smirk he gives when he knows you’re trying to hold back a laugh. He makes a habit of throwing sarcastic comments your way, but you soon realize it’s his way of flirting—teasing you in that playful, witty way he’s known for.

"You know," he says one afternoon while you’re watching him help Lily with a mechanical arm for her robot, “I think I deserve some kind of award for this. ‘Best Teacher to a Mini-Engineer.’ Maybe a medal. Or a statue.”

You smirk, folding your arms across your chest. “Oh, absolutely. I’m sure the world’s been waiting for a bronze Tony Stark to grace Central Park.”

He grins, that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “I knew you were smart.”

It’s in these small moments that you find yourself opening up to him. You’ve always been independent, not allowing yourself to lean on anyone for help, but Tony’s different. He’s been through his own struggles, carried his own burdens, and while you’re still cautious, you find comfort in the fact that he gets it. He doesn’t judge you for being a single mom or for the sacrifices you’ve had to make. If anything, he admires it.

"Raising a kid and working as an engineer?" he says one night over dinner—yes, dinner. He’d invited you and Lily over for what he called "a Stark special," which turned out to be takeout pizza and some ridiculous dessert made by his AI assistant. "That’s a superhero gig right there."

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m pretty sure saving the world in a metal suit still beats making school lunches and fixing leaky faucets.”

“Hey,” Tony says, his tone light but serious, “you do both. No suit needed.”

That night, when you leave, you find yourself thinking about him long after Lily has fallen asleep. There's something about Tony that lingers. Maybe it's his charm, or maybe it's the way he looks at you like you’re more than just a mom balancing a million things—like he sees the person you were before all the responsibilities took over.

As time passes, the two of you fall into an easy rhythm. You, Tony, and Lily have your little routine now, with frequent visits to Stark Tower becoming almost a weekend tradition. What surprises you most is how seamlessly Tony has integrated into your life—and not just with Lily. He asks about your work, your passions, the things you’ve had to put on hold since becoming a single mom. He pushes you to take up some of your old engineering projects, even offering his lab space if you ever want to tinker.

“You could use the space when I’m not around,” he says one evening, nonchalant as ever. “There’s always room for another genius around here.”

You laugh it off, though your heart skips a beat. “I’m pretty sure one genius is enough.”

Tony arches an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “You’re right. With you here, we might be over capacity.”

As the weeks turn into months, you realize you’ve grown used to having Tony around. He’s no longer just the famous billionaire who showed up at a science expo one day. He’s become a friend, someone you can talk to, someone you can rely on.

But there’s more to it than just friendship. You feel it in the way your heart flutters when he leans a little too close during one of his sarcastic quips, or the warmth that spreads through your chest when he smiles at you—really smiles, with that soft, almost vulnerable look in his eyes. You find yourself looking forward to the moments when it's just the two of you, standing on the balcony of Stark Tower late at night, talking about everything and nothing while Lily sleeps soundly in the guest room.

One evening, after one of those long, late-night talks, something shifts. You’re standing on the balcony, the city skyline stretched out before you, the cool breeze brushing your skin. Tony’s beside you, quiet for once, just watching the city lights. There’s a rare stillness about him, and you feel the weight of it, like he’s on the verge of saying something important.

“You know,” he says after a long pause, his voice quieter than usual, “I didn’t expect this.”

You glance at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

He turns to face you, and for a moment, he’s not the confident, sarcastic Tony Stark. There’s something raw in his expression, something vulnerable. “This. Us. You and Lily.” He swallows, as if the words are difficult for him. “I’ve spent so much time being Iron Man, or the guy who fixes problems, that I forgot what it’s like to just… be with someone. To care about people who aren’t expecting me to save the world.”

Your heart skips. His honesty catches you off guard, but you can tell it’s not something he shares often. And suddenly, you realize that you feel the same way.

“You’ve been… different for us, too,” you admit, your voice soft. “I wasn’t looking for anyone, and definitely not someone like you, but…” You trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence. How do you explain that Tony Stark has become more than just a fixture in your life? That you’ve started to fall for him, for all his quirks and complexities, for the way he’s seamlessly become part of your world?

Before you can find the right words, Tony steps closer. His eyes hold yours, that familiar spark of mischief still there, but tempered with something deeper. “I think,” he says, his voice low, “you and I are a pretty good team.”

You smile, feeling the weight of what’s unspoken between you. “Yeah,” you whisper. “We are.”

And then, without another word, Tony leans in. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But when your lips meet, there’s a spark, an electric current that runs through you both, confirming what you’ve known for a while now.

This is real. This is something worth holding on to.

🚀

The decision to make your relationship with Tony Stark official doesn’t happen in a single moment—it’s a gradual shift, one that feels inevitable after months of stolen glances, lingering touches, and nights spent talking on his balcony. But when it does happen, it’s perfect in its simplicity.

It starts one morning in his penthouse, a few months after that first kiss. You’ve been spending more time there, with Lily (who Tony affectionately refers to as "the little genius") practically making his lab her second home. The three of you have fallen into a comfortable rhythm, a little makeshift family that somehow feels like it’s always been meant to be.

On this particular morning, you wake up tangled in Tony’s sheets, the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his arm draped lazily over your waist. You turn your head slightly, smiling to yourself as you hear the soft hum of his breathing. For a man who seems to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, he looks surprisingly peaceful when he sleeps.

As you shift to move, Tony tightens his arm around you, pulling you back against him with a sleepy grumble. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You chuckle, your voice hushed in the early morning quiet. “Trying to escape before your little apprentice wakes up.”

He groans, burying his face in your neck. “Let her tinker. She’s practically running the lab anyway.” His lips graze your shoulder as he speaks, and you feel a familiar spark of heat ripple through you at his touch.

“You’re terrible,” you murmur, though there’s no real bite in your words. You’ve gotten used to Tony’s brand of affection—playful, but with an edge of intensity that never fails to make your heart race.

“Mmm, terrible, but irresistible.” His voice is still thick with sleep, but there’s a hint of mischief in it, the same mischief that always makes your pulse quicken. He shifts slightly, his hand trailing from your waist down to your thigh, fingers brushing lightly against your skin in a way that’s both teasing and possessive.

You turn in his arms, meeting his gaze. His eyes are half-lidded, but there’s a familiar hunger there that sends a thrill of anticipation through you. “You’re definitely full of yourself,” you say, though your voice is softer now, breathier.

Tony’s smirk grows, his hand slipping beneath the sheets to pull you closer. “And you love it.”

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours, and any thought of protest melts away in the heat of the kiss. His hand grips your thigh, pulling your leg over his waist as he deepens the kiss, the familiar intensity building between you. It’s slow at first, a lazy sort of desire, but it doesn’t take long before you’re both lost in each other, the rest of the world fading away.

Later, as the sun filters through the curtains and you’re both tangled together in the sheets, a comfortable silence fills the room. Tony’s fingers are tracing absent patterns on your arm, and you can’t help but smile at how natural it feels, how easy.

“Have you thought about… telling people?” you ask softly, your head resting on his chest.

Tony raises an eyebrow, though he doesn’t seem surprised by the question. “Telling people, as in the media?”

You nod, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable. Being with Tony Stark comes with a certain level of exposure, and while you’ve been okay with the low profile you’ve kept so far, part of you wonders what it would mean to go public.

Tony is quiet for a moment, then he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. “Hey, I don’t care what they say out there,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “If you want to keep things private for now, we can do that. But if you’re asking if I’m ready to go public…”

His thumb brushes over your cheek, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Your heart flutters at his words, warmth blooming in your chest. “I don’t care about the media,” you admit. “I just… I want to make sure we’re ready. That Lily’s ready.”

Tony’s expression softens at the mention of your daughter. “Lily’s already got me wrapped around her finger. I’d be more worried about how I’m going to survive that.”

You laugh, but the sincerity in his words brings a lump to your throat. Tony’s relationship with Lily has grown in ways you never expected. He’s been patient, playful, and completely devoted to her. And seeing them together has only deepened your feelings for him.

“Okay,” you say finally, smiling at him. “Let’s do it. Let’s go public.”

When the news breaks, the media goes into a frenzy. The headlines scream about “Tony Stark’s New Flame,” and “Iron Man’s Mystery Woman.” Paparazzi photos of you and Tony walking hand in hand through Central Park with Lily are splashed across every tabloid and news outlet.

To your surprise, the response is largely positive. While some outlets speculate about Tony’s past relationships and his infamous bachelor reputation, most seem genuinely intrigued by the idea of Tony Stark settling down, especially with someone who isn’t from the celebrity world.

The tabloids nickname you “The Genius and the Heart” and seem fascinated by how “normal” your life is compared to Tony’s glamorous lifestyle. There are articles praising you for balancing being a single mom with your engineering career, while others focus on Tony’s softer side, now that he’s seen as a father figure to your daughter.

You try to ignore most of the noise, but Tony, of course, has fun with it. One morning, you catch him scrolling through a gossip site, shaking his head in amusement.

“They think I’m domestic now,” he says, pretending to be offended. “I mean, can you imagine me, Tony Stark, settling down with a family?”

You roll your eyes, sitting beside him on the couch. “You do realize you’re proving them right by reading that, right?”

He grins, tossing his phone aside before pulling you into his lap. “Let them think what they want. I’ve got everything I need right here.”

The moment you realize how much your relationship with Tony has changed comes one evening when you’re back at the penthouse after a long day. Tony’s in the kitchen with Lily, helping her with a science project that’s somehow turned into an impromptu baking session. The sound of Lily’s giggles fills the space, and you’re watching them from the doorway, a warm smile on your face.

Tony’s crouched down, talking to Lily as they decorate cupcakes—his version of “science.” You’re about to step in and join them when you hear it. Lily looks up at Tony, eyes wide with excitement, and says, “Can I put the sprinkles on, Daddy?”

Your breath catches. It’s the first time she’s ever called him that, and for a moment, you freeze, unsure how Tony will react.

But Tony doesn’t miss a beat. He smiles, ruffling her hair and handing her the sprinkles. “Go for it, kiddo. Just don’t get too carried away.”

Your heart swells, a mix of joy and disbelief washing over you. Lily’s words hang in the air, and when Tony glances up at you, there’s a softness in his expression that takes your breath away. He’s not just playing a part—he’s become a part of your life in ways you never imagined.

Later, when Lily’s asleep, you and Tony find yourselves curled up on the couch, the weight of the day settling into a comfortable silence. You rest your head on his chest, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm.

“She called you ‘Daddy,’” you murmur softly, still processing the moment.

Tony’s hand tightens around yours, his voice quiet but filled with warmth. “Yeah, she did.”

You glance up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all you see is a man who has found his place—who has chosen to be here, with you and Lily.

“Are you okay with that?” you ask, your voice a little unsteady.

Tony looks down at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I’ve never been more okay with anything,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m all in. With both of you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they’re tears of happiness, of relief. You reach up, cupping his face as you pull him into a kiss—slow, tender, and filled with all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long.

When you finally pull away, Tony brushes a thumb across your cheek, his smile soft but full of promise. “So, what do you say? Think you can handle me as part of the family?”

You laugh, your heart feeling light. “I think we’ve been handling you just fine.”

And as you settle back into his arms, you know that this—this—is exactly where you’re meant to be. Together. A family.

Forever.

okay, this was so cute to write <3 I love writing Tony as a softie, because I know deep down he is one.

[overtake]

Non-driver Maxiel AU where Max lives in London and is forced into a run club by George.

Warning: mention of vomiting

The sun is obscenely low in sky when George raps at Max’s bedroom door. It’s soft at first, then graduates into louder and louder pounding that Max can’t ignore, even in this hungover haze. He drags his heavy limbs to the shaking bedroom door and flings it open, hoping his visible rage and pillow-creased face make George fuck right off.

“What do you want?” 

George is perky, that irritating fucking smile accompanying clear skin and bright under-eyes. There’s no signs of last night’s adventures left on his face. He’s also wearing the ugliest, most neon green workout set Max has ever laid eyes on. The shorts are obscenely short. Max isn’t wholly convinced George isn’t aspiring for the sex offender registry if he wears those in public.

“You promised you’d attend run club with me,” George says. He begins dropping into little side-to-side leg stretches, and Max has to avert his eyes to avoid being flashed. 

“Mate, I absolutely did not do that.” If a criminal was holding Max’s family hostage and said the only way to save them was running a 5K, he’d have to beg the guy for a chance to say goodbye.

“Yes, you did,” George protests. “It was after that guy you hit on turned out to be straight.”

As if Max needed to be reminded of that part, which does come back to him quite clearly, along with the many g&ts he downed after.

George, rather unwisely, keeps talking. “I said it was a great way to meet people, then Alex said you wouldn’t last a single kilometre in a run club, and then you bet him 10 quid you could finish the run and agreed to come today.” 

Max blinks at him dumbly. To be fair, it does sound like the kind of stupid, competitive bet he’d get into with George’s new boyfriend.

They all technically work for the same company, but Max is in IT and Alex was always tech-literate enough to never need Max's help. Ever since Alex all but moved into this flat — which George's mysteriously wealthy parents pay for, so Max shuts his mouth and deals — they have become well acquainted. George has effectively weaponized their innate need to antagonize each other into fights over who can dry dishes faster, sort out the recycling best, and hang framed photos the straightest.

This, however, is a whole new level.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Max says. He moves to slam the door in George’s face, but George swiftly kicks his foot in the gap.

“Fine, but I’m telling Alex you backed out,” he threatens. He’s serious, too. He’s been begging them to join this run club with him for ages, but it’s been a losing battle against two people who hate both early wakeups and exercise. 

Max thinks of Alex’s smug, delighted face when Max is forced to hand over the money — and he’ll make a whole show of it, probably in front of all their co-workers — and grits his teeth. “I’ll fucking go, but I’m moving out.” 

“That loses its effectiveness when you threaten it every other day,” George informs him, then drops into a lunge that exposes his matching neon green briefs. This is going to be the worst morning of Max’s life.

They roll up to the meeting spot five minutes late and both extremely grumpy: Max at the whole situation, and George at Max because he apparently dressed too slowly. He’d dragged him by his wrist the whole way there. 

George is instantly greeted and swept away into a crowd of runners who could be his fucking clones, short shorts and all. Max briefly wonders if he can escape without George noticing, but as he begins a shuffle toward the edges of the group, someone catches his eye and begins walking over.

“You’re new!” he says, just as eerily enthusiastic as the rest of this group, like it’s not literally six in the morning. Max is beginning to wonder if he’s starring in a horror movie.

The man flashes perfect teeth at Max. At least he’s extremely beautiful. The least this group could do is give Max something worth looking at if they’re planning to ritually sacrifice him at the end. 

“I’m Max. George made me come,” he says, sticking his thumb out at his evil, detestable flatmate. Max will be unleashing the cats into George’s locked office, where he keeps his priceless collection of vintage teapots on display.

“Oh, he’s always talked about bringing his boyfriend! I’m Carlos. I founded this group.” 

Max tries to resist gagging at more than just leftover gin sloshing around his stomach. Judging by Carlos’ amused expression, he does not succeed. “Flatmate. Definitely not his boyfriend,” he corrects. 

Carlos runs a tan hand through his beautiful, flowing hair, and Max doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s not watching the movement. “Welcome, George’s not-boyfriend. Let’s get you sorted into a pace group. What’s your usual time?” 

“I haven’t run since I played football in school. I will be walking behind the slowest group.” 

Carlos laughs as if Max just made a hilarious quip, which is vaguely concerning seeing as he could not be more serious. “Just run at whatever pace works for you. We believe in pace inclusivity here. You’ll have Daniel over there hanging behind the pack today so nobody gets separated, and we’re just doing 5K today. You’ll be fine.” 

“Just 5K,” Max repeats flatly, but Carlos is already gone. Fuck his life. He’s swearing off all bets with Alex for the rest of time. 

He tries to get a peek at the mysterious Daniel that he’ll seemingly be spending loads of time with, but all he can see is the back of a worn navy cap, long sleeves, and tight compression leggings under shorts. At least he’s not an exhibitionist like George’s little neon crew. 

Carlos stands on a nearby bench, gets everyones attention with a clap, and starts on some monologue about the beauty of morning runs. Max tunes him out and wonders if it might have been a good idea to stretch.

When Carlos gets the run started, Max doesn’t even try to move near George. He lets himself fall back with the only other person who looks vaguely close to struggling. The dude's in an ankle brace, but still, Max is able to keep pace with him for a solid two minutes.

Things start getting a bit shaky 1K in, but Max can still see some of the other runners. He knows the run club pace guy should be somewhere behind him, but he can't turn around to check. If he pauses for even a second, there’s no way he’s making it through.

He’s definitely wheezing quite loudly, and his legs are cramping in ways he never thought possible. Every new step aches. His four-year-old worn down shoes probably couldn’t survive another London rainstorm, let alone an actual run. He knows the wrinkly t-shirt he wore to bed is probably completely drenched in sweat, but he successfully gasps through another kilometre.

Only three to go before Alex has to pay up, and that thought is pushing Max through. He’s almost completely lost track of the group by now, and he can hear the slow tread of the poor guy stuck with him getting closer. The guy — Daniel, he thinks — calls out to him as he approaches. 

“Mate, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to run beside you so you don’t veer off-path.” 

If Max could hear anything over the sound of his own heavy breathing, he might have clocked the Australian accent and familiar cadence. Instead, he focuses so hard on not tripping over a now-unravelling shoelace that he instead misses a giant fucking stick in his way and eats shit straight onto the pavement. 

He sits with his back curled over his scraped-up knees, trying to remember a time when his chest and lungs didn’t physically ache with every short breath. He can feel last night’s drinks and 2 AM kebab churning around his stomach.  

“Are you okay?” a kind, concerned voice asks. There’s a hand lightly touching his back, and it’s making Max feel sickly over-warm in his already burning body. 

Max turns, looks into Daniel’s eyes, and promptly vomits onto his ex-fiancé's pristine white shoes. 

[laura1633]

Here are all the lovely fics , I would be so grateful if you could give these fics a read and leave some nice comments for the authors who took the time to write them. 💕

It's been a great gun fight (You drew blood, I set myself on fire) by LeonSolo There will be one religion in Italy, Charles Leclerc. On his knees, he will pray to a God he was supposed to kill.

Red Light at Dawn by LuciThornz Five months ago Max was kidnapped by pirates. Miraculously he was found safe, and now his father has arranged for him to start courting the Governor’s son. But it’s not that simple, Max hasn’t told anyone the whole story of what happened at sea, getting captured was never part of the plan, neither was falling in love. Now Max has a plan to get back on the open ocean and find the pirate he fell in love with before it’s too late. The funny thing about plans is they never do go smoothly.

The Tortured Driver's Department by Shadow_reads Prompt Fill for Lestappen Birthday Challenge:  Charles said he'd love to have his own F1 team in the future, and Max already has Verstappen.com. Max is also experienced and is most suited to being a team principal. Their shared retirement arc is where they own a team together: Charles handles the press conferences and media, while Max focuses on the data and strategy.

Forever Love by stealmysunshine Charles isn’t going to wait around for Max to pop the question. Who says that there is a preordained question popper? There are two people in this relationship and Charles has every right to show Max just how precious he is and make him feel loved.

(k)not in public by bananasomg When Max accidentally invites friends to tag along on his and Charles' holiday to Greece (which Charles has coined their mating oasis trip), Charles isn't phased, and Max is easily convinced. Hallowed Ground by crimsonmidnight When an FIA racing law forces Omega Charles to take part in a mandatory mating hunt after getting the Sauber seat, Alpha Max vows to do everything it takes to claim him as his own.

The Wait Is Worth It by crimsonmidnight Max Verstappen's adventures in purchasing a fucking machine and using it when Charles gets an attitude.

Sutures by jadesaturn After years of grueling battles, academic rivals Max and Charles part ways upon graduating from medical school until they meet again as surgical interns at the same hospital. Their age-old feud continues, as expected. Grey’s Anatomy Enemies to Lovers but make it Formula 1.

A taste of the divine by (anonymous on ao3) female!Charles ends up losing her virginity to Max and he is going through it.

i'd wanna hold you (just for a while) by Kashoot Charles doesn't normally want to regress, choosing to ignore his needs in favor of keeping busy with all his other obligations. "I'm a racing driver, Max, not a baby!" Max knows better.

Preloved by LaurawritingF1 After getting caught up in another scandal, Charles, the crown prince of Monaco, is sent to an 'Omega Establishment' to find himself an omega in the hopes it will settle him down. Charles is not at all interested in picking out a pretty housewife for himself and is intending to return home empty handed until he meets Max, an omega housed up in the 'Preloved' section of the establishment and clutching hold of his pup tightly.

Everything Changes, Yet Nothing Does by Shadow_Reads The sun was setting over Monaco, casting a warm golden glow over the city. The gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore provided a serene backdrop, contrasting with the turbulent emotions swirling within Charles. Tonight was the night he would ask Max to spend the rest of their lives together.

how you get the boy(s) by amelielacy In which world-famous streamer Max falls in love with artsy single dad Charles.

Hunting Love by himmywimmy Charles becomes an unwilling participant in the pack’s annual mating run and to protect himself, he asks his alpha friend, Carlos, to catch him. But as the night of the mating run unfolds, another alpha seemed to be on the hunt for him.

5 moments of chaos and +1 moment of peace by LaurawritingF1 Charles and Max are retired and dealing with the chaos of looking after their children during the summer vacation. Jimmy, Sassy and Leo also make appearances. Them the breaks, they don’t come gently by imamessofawriter “They just announced that Charles is retiring.” Charles suddenly announces his retirement and then appears to disappear completely.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The evening shift is quiet. You don’t mind the low din of the atrium. The cafe offers the only light to the empty lobby. Hours ago, it was a rush of bodies and voices, now, the shops have closed down and the sign above you remains lit as the sole beacon in the business plaza. 

The slower hours are more routine than the frantic mornings filled with early risers desperate for their first dose of caffeine. You did a few weeks of that before you hopped on the evening’s rota. It gives you time to read between baking and cleaning. 

The front doors open and close, echoing through the space. It’s eerie this late at night but you it doesn’t bother you as much as it once does. The footsteps that follow add to the unease of their approach. You recognise the man by his silhouette. 

The marquee glow limns his harsh features, the stubble on his jaw adding to the sharp angles, his dark hair and brows give him a sinister slant. You smile as you stand from the stool and pour him a black coffee. You ring him up before he even gets to the counter. 

“Evening, sir,” you greet him. You still don’t know his name. All your other regulars like to chat. He doesn’t. “Black.” 

He flicks a card up between his index and middle fingers. The stamps across the rows add up to a free drink. You take it, brushing his calloused fingertips as you do. 

“Oh, a free drink. Exciting.” You cancel the transaction and slide his cup forward, “enjoy.” 

He grumbles and takes the cup. He moves to the other end of the kiosk and grabs a lid and sleeve. As he walks away, you bid him a good night. He never says much, if anything. 

You go back to sanitizing the frother. The work isn’t so dull when you have nothing else to do. The night wears on as the sky softens through the glass walls of the atrium   

Dayani arrives just before five to take over. You hand her the keys and balance the till before you go. She sends you off with the dread of the shift ahead. 

Out on the street, the lull remains. Not for much longer. The bus routes will pick up and the daily commuters will clog the streets. Your trek home is five blocks but not too bad considering. You share a loft with two other girls but you rarely run into them. You all work different shifts in different borroughs. 

Your room is at the rear of the old brick building. The legislated fire escape crosses your window and casts a shadow through the sheer curtains. You undress and unwind in your single bed. The room is small and not exactly worth the cost but it’s a roof over your head. 

You sleep until just after one. The city had you waking in spurts at the honk of an angry driver or the shouts of rowdy pedestrians. You eat the stale scone you claimed from work and have instant coffee to wash it down. 

You go through the usual. You wake up little by little and drag yourself out to the shower. You catch a glimpse of one of your roommates. Lottie barely seems to notice you as she carries a basket out the door. 

When you’re done washing up, you pull on your sweats and a loose tee. You waste some time watching TV on your phone then plug it in so you have some juice left when you leave. You eat a microwaved tray of pasta and change into your uniform. You do up your hair and face, nothing too much, and count the minutes until you’re due to leave. 

As exciting as the city can be, you can’t afford that part of it. You work, you sleep, you get by. 

Xander has an hour overlap with you before he goes. He tells you about all his midterms and the party he wants to ditch his studying for. It’s only an elective course anyway. He leaves in indecision. 

You never finished school. You did one year and dropped out. You did well enough but you couldn’t afford it. Not even the local community college in your hometown. Funny, you still came all the way out here to scrape pennies. 

The last rush of the day passes through. Those on the way to their own overnight shifts; security guards, hotel clerks, and all others. 

The silence sets in. You play around on your phone. The battery dies a lot quicker lately so you make yourself quiet the matching game and put it in your pocket. You pull out the novel you keep hidden behind the till and read until the door opens and closes. 

Same time, same man. His black hair swallows up the light of the sign above as you pour his coffee. You get him a new card and stamp it, handing it over with your usual smiling nicety. Still no response. He goes to grab his lid and sleeve. 

You wait patiently. He doesn’t march off like usual. You peek over as he strides along the counter. He drops a bill in the tip jar. You thank him. Still no answer. 

He walks off and you look in the cup. You can’t believe it. You snatch up the bill and push through the door at the side of the kiosk. You hurry after his shadow. 

“Sir, sir, I think you made some mistake--” the door closes heavily and his figure passes outside the glass panels. You can’t go that far without locking up. Oh well, he’ll be back tomorrow and you can let him know. 

You walk back to the cafe stand and dip back behind. You unfold the hundred dollar bill. Maybe it’s not real. Maybe it’s a joke. Looks pretty real when you hold it up to the light. 

[inkspiredwriting]

Snapshots of Love

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: Hey guys surprise surprise. I'm posting another one shot today because unfortunately I won't be able to do it tomorrow. Have a great day :)

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves sighed as he walked into the cozy living room of their home, rubbing his eyes after a long day of work. As he stepped inside, he noticed a familiar scene that instantly brightened his mood: his wife Y/n sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a scatter of old photo albums.

Y/n looked up from a particularly thick album and smiled warmly at Five. "Hey, I found something interesting in the attic today."

Five raised an eyebrow and walked over to her, intrigued. "Is that so? What did you find?"

She patted the spot next to her, and he sat down, leaning in to see the open pages filled with photographs. "I found this old photo album. It’s full of pictures from our life."

Five’s eyes softened as he gazed at the album, a flood of memories rushing back. "I remember that album. I didn’t think we still had it."

Y/n chuckled and flipped through the pages, revealing snapshots of their journey together. "Here, look at this one."

The photo showed a much younger Five and Y/n, standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, grinning from ear to ear. Five was holding a map upside down, looking completely lost, while Y/n was laughing hysterically.

“I remember that trip,” Five said, a smile tugging at his lips. “I insisted we didn’t need a guide, and we ended up lost for hours.”

Y/n laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, but we found that amazing little café because of it. The one with the best croissants we’ve ever had.”

Five nodded, his smile widening. “You’re right. That was worth getting lost for.”

As they continued to flip through the pages, each photograph told a story. There was a picture of them at a Halloween party, dressed in glamorous outfits. Another showed them at a garden party, looking completely out of place yet having the time of their lives.

Five paused at a picture of them in Rome, sitting on the steps of a temple at sunrise. “That sunrise was incredible,” he murmured, tracing the edges of the photograph with his finger.

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with nostalgia. “I remember. We stayed up all night just to see it. It felt like the whole world was still asleep, and it was just us.”

The photos transitioned to more recent memories: their wedding, their first house, and the birth of their children. Five lingered on a picture of them holding their newborn daughter, Maddie, both looking exhausted yet indescribably happy.

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” Five said softly, his voice tinged with emotion.

Y/n nodded, her eyes misting over. “We have. And look at us now. We’ve built a beautiful life together, despite everything.”

They turned to a picture of their son, Milo, his mischievous grin eerily reminiscent of Five’s. Five chuckled, shaking his head. “He’s going to be a handful, isn’t he?”

Y/n laughed, squeezing Five’s hand. “Just like his dad.”

The last page of the album held a recent photo: the entire Hargreeves family, including five’s siblings, gathered around a Christmas tree, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

“We’ve had our ups and downs,” Five said, his voice filled with gratitude. “But I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.”

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with love. “Neither would I. We’ve made some incredible memories, and I can’t wait to make even more with you.”

Five wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Here’s to many more adventures, Y/n.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, the album open in front of them, reminiscing about the past and dreaming of the future. Five pressed a gentle kiss to Y/n’s temple, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

As they closed the album, Five looked at Y/n with a tender smile. “Thank you for finding this, Y/n. It’s a reminder of how strong we are together.”

Y/n leaned into him, her heart full. “Always, Five. No matter what the future holds, we’ll face it together.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the memories of their past, Five and Y/n felt more connected than ever, ready to take on whatever adventures life had in store for them next.

[incorrectbatfam]

What would Queering the Map look like in the DC Universe

For those of you that don't know, Queering the Map is basically this website where people can add pinpoints on a map with their different queer experiences. It's really cool, I suggest checking it out (unless you hate The Gays, in which case feel free to unfollow me).

Now, for the headcanons:

"Went to a baseball game for our third date. We ended up on the jumbotron. Some people booed us. I think it's 'cause I wore a Gotham jersey and she had a Metropolis hat. A modern-day Romeo and Juliet."

"Drag storytime here, every Thursday from 5:30 to 7"

"sometimes love is kidnapping a nepo baby with your two polyamorous boyfriends"

"Did it with another Arkham inmate, 5/10"

"According to my grandfather, who trained me to wield a sword from the moment I could walk, I'm 'too young' to know who I am."

"Themiscyra more like Lesbos 2 amirite"

"I have a crush on a boy in my class but every time I ask him to hang out he tells me he's busy. I know he doesn't do any after-school clubs and he doesn't need a part-time job because he's rich as hell. I have my conspiracy theories. Let's see how they pan out."

"@ Ollie Queen I screwed your son in your office"

"On this street corner, I got so nervous talking to the cute food truck worker that I puked in a trash can. I am 42 years old."

"Don't forget about us in Kahndaq!"

"Smallville boys sure love them cornfields"

"I put the bi in billionaire"

"me-wow ;)"

"It's Sunday morning. My wife and I slept in after a wild time last night. I woke up first so I surprised her with her favorite breakfast and used the food scraps to make compost cupcakes for her plants. Then she kissed me and showed me a funny video because she knows I love wild dogs, and it makes everything I've put up with worth it. Some folks will see this and still call us the villains. If that's the case, I don't wanna be a hero."

"I know where I'd put my Lantern ring ( ͡ ° ل͜ ͡°)"

"No GCPD at Pride"

"I no longer live in England but I had my fair share of adventures back in the day. We have always been here and we always will be."

"first kiss here, tasted like waffles"

"Hey Lex I can be your sugar baby i mean henchman"

"I can run from Keystone to Bludhaven in five seconds flat but it doesn't matter because he'll never see me the way I see him"

"I transed the fish. Signed, an Atlantean"

"Wanna match butts?"

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 6

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw.

one. two. three. four. five.

Six. 六

Your dark mood lasts for days. You do not shirk your duties, but you definitely brood, hating everything, most of all yourself. A part of you hopes that Donaka decides you’re not worth the trouble after a glimpse of this other side of you. He does not prod you further, seemingly steering clear of you. He had his fun taking you down a peg–what more could he want with you? Surely he has better things to do… The more time goes on, the more certain you are that his proposition was mostly in your head.

Amusingly, it’s little Mrs. Wong who gets you out of your funk, yelling at you in Cantonese and smacking you with a wooden spoon when (maybe?) you didn’t move out of her way fast enough in the kitchen. You are determined that someday she’s going to let you call her Auntie, but apparently you still have some distance to cover. Her temper is like a firecracker, loud but shortlived. She’s adorable and terrifying, and it’s all so ridiculous that you cannot stop laughing as you flee, and the shroud of your depression lifts again like the sun penetrating through the clouds.

The absurdity of life has always saved you in times like this. What do you have to be sad about, anyway? You are healthy, you are housed, and you are fed in this beautiful place. You are having an adventure. So what, if your diabolically handsome employer does not approve of you? You’re just here to clean his floors, for fuck’s sake. 

Maybe Donaka Mark is rich, but that doesn’t mean he has all the answers to the mysteries of life. You find your mental state improves, when it seems like he’s ignoring you. 

Flirting with the cute gardener’s assistant doesn’t hurt your state of mind either. His name is Jun, he has an infectious laugh, and he offers to show you around the city on your next day off. Thinking some down time with someone your age will do you good, you are set to meet him at the bus stop down the hill from Mr. Mark’s house. 

However, he never shows. You try not to take it too hard, but it still bums you out. 

He does not return with the gardener the next week either, and then you start to worry. The kind old man who tends Donaka Mark’s plants just shrugged at your inquiry and said, “He quit.” 

It seems odd, but you brush it off. You suppose you’ll just have to explore the city on your own. You ask for the day off for your birthday, wanting to go do the touristy things, like ride the historic ferry and take the tram up to Victoria Peak. Maybe visit a temple, do some shopping at the Night Market, and definitely indulge in some local eats. Something about living in Hong Kong has you dreaming about noodles. It’s an affliction. You want to try them all. 

On your day there is a little carved wooden box on the table where you usually partake your breakfast in the common area of the servants’ quarters. You’re not sure why your heart falls to your feet with something like dread, but somehow you just know that Mr. Mark has not forgotten about you after all. 

With a forbidden thrill you flip the lid carefully, finding a domed-link silver filigree and enamel bracelet set with dreamy jade cabochons. The little details are exquisite, and you’re instantly enchanted. When you look carefully at the bauble, you realize the stylized blue designs aren’t flowers–they’re bats.

He remembered that conversation you’d had, that very first day. It warms you to your toes, and maybe scares you too. He's good to the staff, but you don't think he usually buys them jewelry.

Goddammit.

You just know, deep down, that you shouldn’t accept it. You even set it back down in the box again, just looking at it with hands on your hips. 

But therein lies the crux of temptation: you want it. It’s pretty and well made, not cheap tourist junk, and…he’d put thought into this gift for you. 

This bait for you, you remind yourself. It’s still hard for you to believe that he’s propositioning you, if for anything, because a man like him could have a supermodel on each arm if he wanted. What the fuck would he want with a girl like you?

Maybe…it’s just an apology?

Not likely, but surely he’s not going to expect you to sleep with him for a silver bracelet??

You have a problem, and possibly, a screw loose. You know this is a flame you should not play with. You are toeing the line, dangerously close to falling in.

What if…you just wear it today, then give it back? It’s not like he’ll know. You doubt you’ll even see him today.

It feels like a guilty secret, as you pick it up again, clasp it on your wrist, and set out for your big day. You like the weight of the heavy silver on your skin–worse yet, you like knowing that Mr. Mark selected this bauble just for you. It feels…like a badge of honor, and you know it’s stupid, to feel proud of yourself for catching the attention of a man like him–but you can’t help it.

You are smart, but sometimes? Your heart is really really stupid.

You do not return to the house until well past after dusk, nearly midnight. You made a day of it, actually able to enjoy the city since Mr. Mark pays so well. You will remember the hand pulled noodles with beef you had for dinner in the Night Market for the rest of your life, they were so delicious. Watching the chef stretch them out from a lump of dough was like a religious experience. 

Having your fortune told in the Night Market was memorable too, but maybe a little unsettling. Squatted on a stool in the older woman’s stall, you paid 100HK dollars for her to look at your right hand and frown. She told you that money would never be a problem for you, but the men in your life would always cause you difficulty. Looking at your relationship with your father and every man after that, you reckon she was probably right. You know you should take it with a grain of salt, but you can’t quite shake the hum of unease in the back of your mind.

On tired feet you walk through the garden, around to the entrance to the servant’s quarters. 

"Did you have a nice day?" asks a voice from the shadows. You start, then realize Mr. Mark is sitting on the carved stone bench, on the path to the servants' wing of the house, tucked back in the manicured trees. 

Fuck.

Immediately you tuck your wrist behind your back.

“Mr. Mark?”

“Come here.”

His voice is deliberately neutral–you can’t quite gauge his mood as you approach, feeling like a teenager caught staying out past her curfew. You have no way of knowing he has been waiting for hours, growing more and more annoyed that you are away from him, not under his watchful gaze, where you belong.

He knows where you were, if not exactly what you did. Unbeknownst to you, there is a tiny tracker inserted in your new bracelet you wear with such foolish avarice. 

“Well?”

“Yes, I had a wonderful day,” you confirm, coming to stand before him, committed now even if you are walking into the lion’s den. You find it odd he’s waiting up for you, but it is a beautiful night to be out in the garden. A cool breeze is coming off the water, lifting your hair.

“Let’s see it then.” He points at your hand so casually held behind you, and you know you are caught out.

Almost guiltily, you extend your arm to show off your new acquisition in situ. 

He props your hand with just the tips of his fingers, his touch maddeningly light on your sensitive palm as he turns your wrist to inspect the bracelet, sending a thrill down your arm. He likes seeing the gift that he selected upon you.

“It suits you,” he finally assesses, though you still can’t tell if he’s displeased. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” you answer, barely above a whisper, feeling as though you are sealing something between you as you admit it. 

“Well, that’s convincing.”

Your heart feels like a sea urchin lodging in your throat. You’re not sure what it is about this man that makes you want to please him–and tell him to fuck off–all in the same breath. 

Then he gets to the fun part–for him. “You shouldn’t have stayed out so late alone,” he scolds you. 

You cant your head and press your lips, holding in the smart remark that burns on your tongue as his coal-black eyes bore into you, settling for, "I didn't mean to worry you…but it is my day off. I think I'm free to do what I want." You just can't stop yourself from adding the last bit, and you wonder from his darkening expression if it will be your undoing.

He imagines in that moment what it would be like to reach out and put you over his knee. Instead, he stands abruptly, startling you into taking a step backwards. 

He likes that. 

It irks him, that you dare defy him, like he doesn’t know what’s best for you. If you insist on acting so tough, he’s tempted to throw you over his shoulder and show you just how little it would take to actually break you. 

"Were you drinking?" he asks darkly, hating the thought of you out in a bar, with other men, enjoying yourself. Laughing, like you were with the young gardener not so long ago. The moment he saw that on his camera feed that he constantly watches of you, Donaka saw red. You should not give your joy to others so freely. You sprinkle it around everywhere you go, and he covets it all for himself.

That boy had to go.

"No," you defend, and you’re telling the truth. "I just...walked around." There was plenty to see in Kowloon district. 

Donaka takes another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours, the heat of it warming you. He watches your reaction as he speaks, his voice low and firm. “You should have let me arrange a driver for you.”

This again. It feels as though he wants to cloister you away from experiencing the world, by shoving you in a car. "Donaka..." you sigh, slipping into using his first name for the first time ever, because you’re tired, and your feet hurt, and he is standing very close, talking to you like he has a say in what you do…

It’s maddening and arousing all at once, rubbing with a velvet touch against some long long cavewoman instinct in your brain, and if you’re not careful this just might be the night he outmaneuvers you. 

Donaka’s eyes narrow at hearing you dare to be so familiar with him, even if deep down he secretly loves it. He takes another step into you, crowding you against the stone wall, caging you in with an arm. He’s blocking your path to a quick exit into the servants’ quarters, you can’t help but notice. Your heart pounds in your ears–but you’re not half as afraid as you should be of this man. 

“Hong Kong is pretty safe, as it goes…” you continue to protest around the sound of your heart drumming in your ears, earning a scoff. 

“You have no idea, the sorts of things that could happen to a girl like you in this city.”

You can’t help but think you’re not sure if you feel safe here at home now. 

“If something happened…I would have called you,” you offer up, appealing to his ego as protector, the role he’s apparently decided to take on for himself without asking you. 

However, he sees right through you, rolling those beautiful dark eyes. “You should have let me take you out,” he suggests in a low tone that curls your toes in your sandals. He says it like it had been some option on your menu that you’d rejected. Never in a million years would it have even occurred to you to ask. 

You find yourself doing your best impression of a fish out of water, like the ones you’d seen stacked like cord wood in the market. His other hand lifts to touch your chin lightly, closing your mouth. “Would you have liked that?” 

You honestly don't know the answer to that. 

This man fascinates you and repulses you. He's handsome and commanding and oh so forbidding. He scares you, but he draws you like a moth to a flame. Having these little flirtatious interactions around the house are one thing. Going out with him would be...something else entirely. The thought of what it could mean to socialize with a man like him, where you are so far from being equals, makes you uneasy. It's much safer to just...write about what might have been in your journal, later. 

"I'm not sure that would be appropriate," you finally answer breathily.

His smile for you is nothing less than the wolf baring its teeth. “Why not?”

"You're my boss..." you try to defend. You scare the shit out of me is the real answer you don't dare say aloud.

Donaka can’t help the dark laugh that falls from his lips at your answer, the way you flounder as you grasp for a defense, utterly drowning. A part of him wants to claim you right here and now, for being such a sweet, soft, naive little thing in his claws. 

He leans down closer to you, his head dipping down to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Is that the best excuse you’ve got?”

For a moment, you think your soul might evacuate from your body. 

"Pretty sure it's a good one," you barely manage to reply above a whisper.

“You still don’t understand what I’m offering you, do you?” he asks, his voice deceptively gentle, a dagger clothed in velvet.

You love it how he makes you out to be the obtuse one, when he is the one who has spoken so cryptically.

“I…might,” you answer. You’re not a complete innocent, or a total philistine.

What would a VIP experience on the arm of Donaka Mark be like? Although he can be charming when he wants to be, it makes you feel more anxious than intrigued. You imagine a dinner at some high-end restaurant you could never afford. Somewhere people go to be seen, more than to eat, though the food would undoubtedly be amazing. Somewhere you would feel incredibly out of place. Then what? A ride in one of his ugly but wicked fast sports cars? A night of hedonism at some exclusive club for millionaires only? And what would he expect as payment for all this? You can’t even say you wouldn’t be willing to give it. You want this man with a voracity that is–frankly–terrifying to you. 

You’ve never felt anything like it. 

What you wouldn’t like is the inevitable aftermath of later: he's offering you the opportunity to give yourself up–then get thrown away, with the enjoyment of some perks in between. You could repeat your mother’s history all over again, a thing you always swore up, down, and sideways you would never do.

Donaka watches all these thoughts play across your face, without a word aloud to accompany them. You just stare, unable to speak, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Say one sentence of the novel you just wrote in your head out loud,” he challenges.

You open your mouth to try, but nothing comes out. All you can do is look up at him with what you are sure is a pathetic expression on your face, paralyzed. He is so close, and your eyes fixate for a long, damning moment on his mouth. In the end you have to close your eyes against that laser-like stare, shaking your head.

“You know something I find interesting about you,” he goes on. You open your eyes, though your tongue is still tied. “I think if I made you choose between an Hermès purse or that cheap bauble on your wrist this morning, you still would have chosen the bracelet, wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately, maybe not to your advantage. Then you feel a little relieved, glad it didn’t cost a fortune.

“Comparatively cheap,” he clarifies, as though he doesn't want you to feel too at ease. How did he know? 

You narrow your eyes, lifting your wrist towards him. “Maybe…you should take it back.”

You think you might die of a heart attack, when he folds your smaller hand in his, and kisses your knuckles lightly. “It’s too late for that.”

You’re not sure what that means, but as he strokes your thumb lightly with his, you start to tremble.

“Sir…” 

He pins you with his stare, looming over you, but makes no move, waiting. 

“It’s getting late…and I have to work tomorrow.”

He lifts an eyebrow, smirking down at you. “And whose fault is that?”

“Mine…though it’s starting to be yours.”

He snorts. “Then ask me for the day off again,” he dares you. When you answer him with yet more paralyzed silence he gets frustrated, tilting your face up with his huge hand engulfing your jaw. For a man who works in tech…his fingers are calloused, and strong, and your legs just might go out from underneath you.  “Ask me. Say it out loud, y/n. Tell me what’s going on, behind those big eyes.”

You, however, just shake your head against his masterful grip. “You don’t want to know.” 

“I like secrets, y/n. I want to know everything.” You suppose that is his bread and butter, with his security business and all his cameras…you don’t know why it never occurred to you before now, that it could be a personal obsession, as much as professional. 

You’re tempted. God, are you tempted, with this beast of a man looming over you, touching you, looking through you with those piercing dark eyes. Like he wants to eat you as much as he wants to fuck you… 

Somehow you know if you dare go down that path…there will be no turning back. 

You choose the coward’s road.

“Please…I think…it would be best…to call it a night.”

He weighs you with a heavy gaze for so long that you start to doubt he will let you go–in the darkest dungeon of your heart, you know that a part of you doesn’t want him to. It would be convenient, if he would make the choice for you. Let you taste the forbidden fruit with none of the blame…

You are losing your goddamned mind over this man. You need to stop.  

You never really know why in the end he releases you, pushing back from the wall to give you space. You side-step towards the door of the servant’s quarters, afraid for the predatory look he’s paying you, that he might change his mind.

 "Good night, Mr. Mark," you say quietly, before disappearing into the little building where you sleep. A rush of frustration flares inside him as you scamper away–again. He narrowly resists the urge to kick down your door and show you who you belong to.

“Good night,” he answers back through gritted teeth, only the crickets left to hear him. He’ll have your secrets, one way or another. He can genuinely say he tried–a first, in so long he can’t remember when. For what happens next…you will only have yourself to blame.

[starlight-archer]

Fic Request for @fidgetmetimbers! "Something sweet with Edwin and Thomas"

This got very fluffy and schmoopy! I hope you like it!

Edwin felt something shift next to him where he lay and smiled to himself. He wasn't surprised when he had discovered that the Cat King was a cuddler.

The night before had been... Wonderful, to put it simply.

He had been going on dates with Thomas for a handful of months at this point and every part of it had felt like an adventure in self-discovery. He hadn't realised just how much he would be capable of once he started to become comfortable in a romantic relationship. It was still so new and fresh, but Thomas made it so easy to sink into the new dynamic between them.

He had been so patient and accommodating, and had openly expressed his own wants and expectations, and it had greatly helped in acclimating him to being in a relationship. What could have very well been intimidating for him was made easy and relatively seamless.

The open discussion, and easy answering of any questions he had, helped shake any remaining nerves around seeming inexperienced. It didn't matter. They were discovering everything together and Thomas having more intimate experience was never something that made him feel in any way inferior as a partner.

The night prior, they had hardly been able to keep their hands off of each other as they went about their date. He supposed that it must have been a bit much for anyone able to see them, but he couldn't find it within himself to care.

They had walked, talked, laughed together. Thomas had gotten a cup of whipped cream from a coffee shop and when he had gotten some at the corner of his mouth, Edwin had felt confident enough in the moment to lean down and kiss it off. The subtle taste of sand be damned. It was worth it just for the expression it had left on his lover's face.

At the end of their date, neither of them had wanted to part ways and so they hadn't. Thomas had used his magic to counjur some soft pyjamas and they had snuggled up together under the thick duvet.

Edwin shuffled closer, himself and lifted the blanket a bit to get a look at Thomas' face as he slept. He really was beautiful. Moreso when he was off guard, and truly relaxed. He always felt himself drawn to this soft, pink lips, the delicate curve of his cupids bow, the small scar on the left (Thomas' left). They begged to be kissed. Or, perhaps it was Edwin that begged to be kissed by them.

Now, knowing that it was allowed, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to those lips, to the scar, then to Thomas' cheeks and nose and forehead and when he pulled back, those golden eyes were looking back at him in affectionate wonderment.

"Having fun?" Thomas' voice was raspy with sleep.

Edwin smiled, "Indubitably." punctuating it with another quick kiss to Thomas' forehead.

"Oh? Indubitably? My boyfriend is fancier than your boyfriend~" Thomas purred, snuggling against Edwin's arm (that was conveniently placed under his head like a pillow).

Edwin used his free hand to brush a few stray curls from Thomas' face. "Not possible, I'm afraid. You see, my boyfriend is a King."

Thomas let out a mock gasp and batted his eyes at Edwin. "Oh my, I do apologise for my audacious mistake. I hope that you can find it in your heart to overlook my blunder."

"I suppose I am feeling rather gracious, though it will require adequate penance." Edwin couldn't help the broad smile, despite trying to keep his tone as serious as he could in jest.

"Oh, thank you! I'll do anything! What price must I pay to make this up to you?"

"Hmm." Edwin pretended to contemplate it for a moment. "Your debt shall be paid in one hundred kisses."

"One hundred kisses? I better get started~" Thomas grinned as he leant up, one hand on Edwin's shoulder, and kissed him all over his face, counting as he went. "That was twenty-five, I'm a quarter of the way done~" He leaned back up and placed several quick pecks to Edwin's lips, before being caught.

Edwin leaned in to the last peck and drew it out, deepening it, reveling in it, basking on every second. It was inevitable that Thomas started purring, especially as Edwin's free hand found it's way back to his hair.

Edwin pulled back only when Thomas needed a moment to breathe, and carefully pressed their foreheads together, their noses just barely brushing.

"I love you." Edwin said, with all the surety in his heart.

"You love me?" Thomas echoed it in question, expression suddenly so vulnerable, not unlike when Edwin had called him out over their shared loneliness.

"I love you dearly." Edwin reinforced, placing another peck to Thomas' lips before pulling back a little further, to look at him properly. "I can no longer imagine a future without you in it."

"You can't?" Thomas' voice was small, though the purring was still a constant.

"What would a day be without seeing your face at least once? How much duller? How much more colourless would life be without your wonderfully flamoyant presence?" Edwin smiled. He knew he was being dramatic, and yet he also believed his own words with certainty. "Thomas, you add so much happiness and love to my life, I could never dream of being without you now."

"I love you too." Thomas swallowed thickly, finding it hard to contain his emotions, especially when Edwin looked at him like that; in that way that made it impossible to find any sort of fault in his words. "You have to know that."

"Of course I know. You show it to me all the time. It would be impossible to miss, even if I weren't such an excellent detective." Edwin smirked as Thomas playfully rolled his eyes.

"You're so modest, it's really admirable." Thomas struggled not to laugh.

"Yes, I really am the whole package, aren't I? You are a lucky cat indeed." Edwin teasesd. Heavens knew that he thought himself a lucky ghost.

Thomas' expression softened and he smiled gently up at Edwin. It was almost reverant. "I really am."

[bluemoonsunrise]

Demons and Savages

pairing: tsu’tey and human!avatar driver (fem presenting)

content warnings: graphic language, alien vs human differences, the RDA sucks, fuck u miles quaritch, tension you could cut with a knife, enemies to lovers. (also, i don’t like to capitalize sentences on tumbler :3)

word count: …idk :D (roughly edited sry)

pov: 2nd person so you can add yourself in. for writing/plot purposes, your character is named eris ramsey. i’ll use the name sparingly but i can’t take myself seriously writing y/n— so please just work with me here. i promise it’ll be worth it. (i hope)

< previous chapter

———🌌———

SUMMARY: earth was dying and your sister was, too, but cancer killed her faster than humans were killing earth. when she passed, she not only left behind an empty apartment full of memories but a billion dollar avatar without a driver. in a desperate attempt to not waste that money, the program she had spent the last five years preparing to join recruited you— her twin. of course, you agreed. there was nothing left on earth for you. there was nothing left on earth for anyone— that’s why people like your sister were sent off to pandora.

when your sister had spoken of pandora, it seemed like a dream.

the RDA promised it would be like a safari adventure.

truth was that pandora is beautiful. beautiful and unlike anything else across the whole of the universe. it is breathtaking— and that’s because what chases you through the forest hunts with the intent to kill; so you best run like hell even if your lungs are on fire. beasts and monsters of all kinds lurk out of sight waiting for the right moment to kill you dead— but none are as dangerous as him.

the blue shadow with the bow.

chapter four

— weak hands —

“if i want to get us any closer to peace, i’ll need to put in a lot of work.” you said as you logged the events of your day. you could hardly keep your eyes open. for a rest day, you felt more worn down than you did on days you spent entirely in the forest. “if i want to gain back trust the omatikaya once placed in the avatar program, i have to pass two tests.”

“tsu’tey says it will take months for me to even think about passing the first test. in order to complete iknimaya and claim an ikran, i have to be strong. i have to have a fighting spirit. a strong heart, he says. i have to learn the ways of warriors. it is no easy challenge— but an ikran would kill me otherwise.”

“he told me that he doesn’t doubt my heart.” you said softly. you looked at yourself on the screen and covered your cheeks with your hands as you saw color rise into them. “he just doubts that i’ll be able to pin down the damn thing before it kills me.”

“i think that’s all for today. lots to be done. tomorrow i start archery. fun, huh? i hope. really, i do…alright. see ya.” you reached out and clicked the recording off.

you had no energy to eat. you had no energy to do anything at all. when you climbed into your bunk, you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. it was hard for you to sleep most nights— but exhaustion made it easy for you now. it reached out its arms and enveloped you in its warm embrace.

you dreamed of the riverbed and the stars. you dreamed of the bugs that floated by. you dreamed of the way the water sounded sloshing against the shore of the riverside.

you dreamed of him, too.

you dreamed of running with him through the grass. the way he chased you. you could almost feel your chest burn as you ran and ran and ran. even in your dreams, he caught you. he tangled you in his arms and lifted you off your feet.

you didn’t hesitate to kiss him.

you had wanted to kiss him today. it was an insufferable itch that you wanted to gnaw at with your teeth— but you couldn’t.

when you woke in the morning to the usual alarm set for all those in the avatar program, you could not have been more frustrated. you buried your face into the pillow and groaned into it.

you didn’t want to dream about him.

you didn’t want to think about him the way you always did. he was supposed to be your mentor. a teacher. a guide. not someone you dreamed about kissing.

you didn’t want to face him.

after the hot springs, you two returned to home tree as if nothing happened. he got you food and you sat with others in the clan and listened to their stories. you listened to their songs. tsu’tey told stories of his own. he did not sing alongside the others but the faint smile on his lips showed his contentment.

and that was it.

all day, you rested in the livelihood of home tree with him. eating. talking. laughing. introducing yourself to those who dared to approach you. those who let you join their circles. you helped string beads and craft twine. mundane, small things that you enjoyed more than you thought you would. while most of the conversations were held in navi, you were able to pick out bits and pieces.

it wasn’t until after dinner when you made your nightly walk with him to your hammock that what had happened between the two of you weighed on you. he didn’t say goodnight. he didn’t spare you a glance. he hit you with his shoulder as he passed and hissed under his breath.

you did not want to see him— but he was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes in your hammock.

“get up. now.” tsu’tey said. his tone was sharp. lethal. there was no patience to be found in him.

you did your best to get up quickly. your head spun with the daze of shifting. he grabbed your arm to steady you— but he dragged you down the center column of home tree without any warning.

“agh— dude.” you muttered as you tried to pull your arm free. “stop it.”

“walk.” he said, pushing you in front of him.

you didn’t fight against him. it would do you no good. once you were out of home tree, you shrugged him off. thankfully, he went willingly. without a word, he flicked his head towards the direhorses waiting.

you approached mitsia with gentle hands. she pressed her snout against your face as you said hello. reaching up, you formed tsaheylu with her and swung yourself up onto her back. with a soft pat to her neck, you urged her to follow behind tsu’tey.

he moved with purpose today and mitsia ran fast to keep up with him.

you rode into the thick of the forest. you had to duck low onto mitsia’s back as to not get snagged in the low hanging vines. all sorts of sounds resonated in your ears. the rush of wind. the chirping of pandoran birds. squeaking and squawking. thundering hooves. snapping sticks.

when tsu’tey finally came to a stop, it was by a pond. he hopped off his direhorses back and clicked his tongue as a thank you. when you slid off mitsia’s back, you thanked her with a soft kiss to her face.

you felt bitter as you met his eyes.

what he had told you yesterday lingered in your mind. mitsia was yours. maybe not like how an ikran could be, sure, but you were certain that she would come only to you if you called.

“good girl.” you whispered as you patted her neck.

“come here.” tsu’tey said, his tail flicking behind him like a feral cat.

you parted with your direhorse and sighed as you stood in front of him. you expected him to start with a lesson on archery. he carried two bows on his back. instead, he grabbed your hands and scoffed at them.

“you have weak hands. small fingers. they will bleed.”

you ripped your hands out of his grasp. “you don’t know shit. they won’t bleed.”

“they will.” he said, snatching your arm. he tapped his fingers against your bicep. “no muscle. children have more strength than you. i bet you would not be able to pull yourself up whilst climbing a tree.”

“would you cut the shit?” you pulled your arm out of his grasp and scowled at him. “you’re pissing me off.”

“you will fail today at archery. many times. just as you failed at riding pali. you are weak. you will have troubling drawing back the arrow. i doubt you can aim.” tsu’tey said.

“but you will learn.”

your mouth closed. the anger in your expression lessened as you watched him pull one of the bows off from around his shoulder. it was simple. dark wood. strong string. it was heavy— but not as heavy as his. not as well-crafted and expertly designed. not at pretty.

“first rule of bow,” tsu’tey said as he stood up straight. “you must be like tree. tall. strong. always strong in your belly. for everything. be strong in your belly.”

you mimicked him. standing up straight and tensing your core, you held yourself in the same tall posture. you matched his breath. over and over again, you told yourself what to do like a mantra: keep tense but don’t suffocate. don’t suffocate. breathe. in and out. in and out.

tsu’tey lifted the bow and assumed a shooting stance. no arrow was drawn, but he pulled back the string. you could see the tension in his belly. you could see the firm stance he held in his shoulders. more importantly, his legs. like two pillars on the ground, he appeared unmovable.

he appeared strong.

and you knew he was.

“when you draw back the bow, you must use two fingers. always two fingers. it is how you keep the arrow aligned. draw back is hard when you start. bows are strong and they fight against you. that is why arrows shoot so far.” tsu’tey said as he lowered his bow.

“you try.”

you took a sharp breath and tightened your core. you did your best to mimic the stance he held. before you could even drawn by the bow, he was all over you. he spread your legs further apart with his own. he smacked you on the hip and you were quick to place tension there. a grunt of approval was all you earned. he did the same to your shoulders and you were quick to straighten up.

“that is proper position.” tsu’tey said. he tapped your stomach lightly. “firm. strong. it is good. it is powerful. keep this habit of strong core and you will learn the posture fast. it will be as easy and natural as swinging up onto his the back of pali.”

“right,” you said softly.

“now draw back the bow.” he said.

you hooked two fingers around the string and pulled. your lips thinned and your brows knitted together as you pulled harder. and harder. the bow seemed unwilling to bend and you were quick to let the string go.

“bad. again.” tsu’tey said with an impatient flick of his head. “you did not even try.”

“i did try. the bow feels like it’ll break if i pull at it anymore.” you said with a small huff.

tsu’tey hooked his bow over his shoulder. he snatched yours from your hand and you could only watch as he pulled an arrow from his quiver, loaded the bow, and shot it.

it stuck straight into the dirt, the calling card swaying in the breeze.

“it did not break.” tsu’tey said, handing it back to you. “you are not strong enough to break it because you are not even strong enough to draw it back.”

you felt your chest burn. you took the bow back without another word. ignoring the way his constant belittling was beginning to hurt, you did your best to draw the bow back. you kept your core tight, your posture tall, and your breath even. you pulled back as hard as you could. at a certain point, the resistance gave way and allowed you to pull back fully.

“yes.” tsu’tey said, cupping your elbow. “now hold this position.”

“it’s hard,” you whispered, your fingers gripping the bow with all your might.

“hold this position until i say so or i will make you run to home tree and back.” tsu’tey said.

you had to grit your teeth. you kept your stance locked. you kept your core tight and yourself tall— but your breathing soon gave way. the bow was large. it was heavy. the string was thick and harsh against your callous-less fingers. soon enough, you were shaking.

squeezing your eyes shut, you fought not to let the string pull your arm down. the seconds felt like hours and the minutes felt like days. unless it hadn’t been minutes. you had no idea. everything was moving too slow and with each moment that passed, the odds stacked against you. your bicep was burning. your core was cramping. your hands were beginning to sweat. your breaths came in small gasps.

“release.”

you let the string fly from your finger tips and the bow snapped into shape. if an arrow had been loaded, you wondered how far it would’ve gone.

“resolve is something i don’t have to teach you. that was good enough for now.” tsu’tey said with a small nod. “strength can always be built. willpower cannot. it takes a strong heart to have discipline.”

“and i have a strong heart?” you asked even though you already knew his answer.

“yes,” tsu’tey said even when you didn’t think he would. he looked over the whole of you. his eyes lingered on your mouth. “you have a very strong heart. it is why eywa smiles upon you when i do not.”

“why are you being so rude?” you asked. you turned to face him and shook your head. “seriously. why? did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?”

your phrasing confused him but he did not attempt to understand. “because you have angered me.”

“i’ve angered you? how?” you asked.

tsu’tey hissed and waved his hand. “no. just be quiet. be quiet and do the one thing i taught you. practice your stance so that you do not make a fool of yourself when you attempt to shoot an arrow.”

“if you’re going to be a dick to me then no.” you tossed the bow at him.

he caught it and his eyes widened in a terrible, terrible way. fury. the disrespect of your action could’ve turned him red. he grasped the air beside your head — as if he wanted to crush you in the palm of his hand — and bared his teeth.

“get out of my sight, demon.” he murmured through his teeth. “we are done. if you are going to act like that, you can sing songs until you lose your voice.”

“no,” you said. suddenly frustrated, you reached to grab the bow back. “i’ll do it. just give it to me.”

“no,” he held it away from you. “you have caused disrespect. you will try again when i tell you. today you will remain weak and unskilled.”

“i’m not weak. stop calling me that.” you whispered with your breath tight in your throat.

tsu’tey laughed at you. “if you tried to show that you were strong today, you showed wrong. your heart is not aligned with your body. and i don’t know if you have a mind at all.”

you shoved him.

tsu’tey stumbled back. he scowled at you, his face pinching in anger as he tilted his head. soundlessly, he warned you not to do that again.

you shoved him again.

he smacked you upside the head. hard. really hard.

“ugh!” you complained, caressing the back of your head. “you are such a fucking jackass!”

“i don’t know what that means, demon, but you are that, too.” tsu’tey hissed.

“it means you are the worst person i’ve ever met! you are mean and cold and cruel! you’re a jerk to me all the time! it’s like you’re allergic to being nice!” you exclaimed all at once. the words just came rushing out with no thought to if he would understand them at all.

“because i don’t like you,” tsu’tey said through his teeth. he glared down at you and stuck his finger in your face. “you and your people are a curse on this land. you are a sickness.”

you laughed at him. “then why did you want to fuck me so bad?”

tsu’tey’s fiery resolve seemed to falter. staring down at you, his ears pinned. he sighed under his breath and looked away. “great mother grant me patience.”

“you won’t even deny it?” you shook you head at him and laughed again. you knew you were rubbing dirt into wounds. you should’ve been careful considering he could’ve done the same to you. “is that why you’re so mad at me? because you want to fuck me?”

he wouldn’t look at you. like a bull, he huffed out of his nose. his face twitched. his tail flicked sharp and fast. frustration had never looked so good on someone. he was a master at it.

“i’m the weak one?” you tutted you tongue and whispered, “some warrior you are if you can’t fight against desire.”

tsu’tey grabbed you by your face. squishing your cheeks between his fingers, he hissed at you. “you never shut your mouth.”

“you don’t even realize what you do to me. you fault me for my poor judgment when you’re the one covering my eyes.” tsu’tey said.

“m’not— doin’ an’thng.” you tried to say between your squished lips as you struggled to free your face from his grasp.

“you are. you don’t even know it because you are a demon in the skin of my people. you rubbed your scent on me at the river. you started a chase game. you asked me about mating. your body was crying in the hot spring.”

“you look at me with those eyes…”

tsu’tey’s grip on your face lessened. his hand clasped around your throat lightly and your hand still flew to his wrist. you couldn’t draw breath. not because he held you too tight but because you forgot how to.

“i— i don’t do it on purpose.” you whispered helplessly.

“i know,” tsu’tey murmured as he ran his thumb along your throat. “which is why i hate you even more. you have no control over your instincts. you have no control over your body. your mind fails you, demon.”

“and my body is failing my mind because of it.”

staring at him, the look in his eyes made your knees weak. he was staring at your mouth. his fingers flexed around your throat. as your eyes met, you stepped forward and tried to kiss him.

“do not…” tsu’tey murmured, glaring at you between the inches that separated you.

you raised your hand up to his face. as your fingers brushed against his cheek, he flinched. his ears pinned. he could’ve hissed at you— but his expression turned warm as you glided your thumb across his lips. his pupils dilated.

“can i have the bow back?” you asked in a whisper. “i’m sorry for throwing it at you.”

rationality seemed to comeback to him. he let go of your throat, his fingertips grazing the beads of your top. your eyes never left each other. he handed you the bow and you took it— or tried to. he didn’t let it go, either. the longer you stared at each other, the more convinced you were that he would kiss you.

you wanted him to.

a sharp yip sliced through the hair and something hit the ground. tsu’tey pushed the bow at you and turned. looking over his shoulder, you saw her. she’d jumped down from the trees above. her bow was in her hand, a magnificent piece of woodwork. her tail flicked as she met your gaze.

neytiri.

“oel ngati kameie,” tsu’tey said, gesturing the act.

neytiri returned the gesture. when her eyes fell upon you again, you signed i see you. she dipped her head the smallest bit and gave a lazy wave of her hand. you couldn’t be offended. that was more than tsu’tey usually gave you.

the pair conversed in navi. they spoke too fast for you to understand. they spoke low, too, as if tsu’tey knew you would be able to understand them if you tried hard enough. some pieces you picked out.

forest.

nantang.

moron.

demon.

they were talking about you. you rolled your eyes and scoffed under your breath. was tsu’tey informing her of how bad your posture was? how weak you were? or was he trying to convince her that you weren’t anything at all.

had she seen you two…

your stomach knotted and you felt sick. if she had seen you two touching and…oh, lord in heaven. you were dead meat. dead. dead before you could be reborn.

tsu’tey whistled and the direhorse returned to the archery clearing. mitsia came to your side and brushed her face against your shoulder. you turned to look at tsu’tey. he mounted his direhorse and pulled neytiri up after him.

“we return to home tree now. quickly, demon.”

you mounted your direhorse and were quick to follow after him and neytiri. one of her arms were hooked around his waist. you had no time to feel jealous because all you felt was sick. had she seen you both? would you be placed in front of the olo’eyktan and the tsahik and scolded? worse, would you be banished? executed?

you could hardly walk straight as you entered home tree. when you arrived, people were in uproar. tsu’tey was quick to come to your side and grab you by the back of your arm. you looked up at him but he did not meet your gaze and you weaved your way through the crowd of people gathered by the meeting circle.

“mawey!” the tsahik said, raising her hands high into the air.

silence followed— all but one voice. as you and tsu’tey broke through the crowd of people, you saw him. for a moment, you recoiled at the sight of tactical jeans and an RDA issued shirts on a blue figure.

regretfully, it took you a moment to recall that face of his in his avatar body.

“jake!” you exclaimed, your pupils blowing wide and your ears perking.

tsu’tey hissed as you pulled your arm free from his grasp. you didn’t care. not about anything else. you nearly tackled him to the floor as you threw your arms around him. jake caught you, stumbling to keep you both upright. a near cry slipped passed your lips to see a familiar face.

to see a true friend.

“holy shit, eris.” jake breathed as his arms tightened around your waist. it had taken him a moment to register your blue face, too.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you asked as you pulled away. when you met his eyes, you saw the scratches and the bruises on his face. you lifted your hand to his jaw and gasped softly. “jesus, jake, are you okay?”

“they really should’ve put us through ground training. i may know my way around a gun and hand-to-hand combat, but that’s all useless out here in these woods. i nearly got torn to pieces by a pack of these ugly ass wolf-things trying to keep norm and grace safe. norm got hurt and so i did the only thing i could which was distract them and run.”

“thankfully that blue valkyrie over there found me.” jake said with a glance toward neytiri. his brows raised and he smiled at you. “her and a group of hunters. they saved my ass.”

before you could say anything else, the tsahik approached. she raised her hand and instinctively you stepped away from jake. you bowed your head. jake stiffened as the tsahik grabbed him by his chin and examined the cuts on his face.

“you know him.” the tsahik stated a fact and she glanced at you.

“yes. he’s in my program. we work for grace augustine.” you said.

“nice to meet you,” jake said with a polite tilt of his head.

tsu’tey stepped forward, speaking words that jumbled in your ears. you picked out what you could. what was important.

how many demons!

you clenched your teeth. you knew exactly what he was asking. how many of you would come here? your arrival had been an accident. a pure chance of fate. was jake’s run-in with the nantang the same? or was it planned?

from his volatile expression alone, tsu’tey seemed to think you were now being planted here.

“you.” tsu’tey hissed as he grabbed you by the back of your neck. “walk.”

“hey, woah, woah, woah.” jake pulled his face away from mo’at and turned. he stuck his arm out, hitting tsu’tey in the chest. “you best take your hands off her right now or we’re gonna have a fuckin’ problem.”

tsu’tey bared his teeth.

“jake,” you whispered his name and guided his hand back towards his side. “it’s fine…”

before jake could say anything else, tsu’tey pushed you along. you tried your best to shrug him off but he wouldn’t let you go. his grip was tight. too tight. tighter than it had ever been as he guided you up the center column of home tree.

“ow!” you hissed as he shoved you into his hut by the back of or your neck.

“sit.” he demanded, pointing to the floor.

you were quick to drop down. you watched as he paced. you could see the thoughts running through his mind. you tensed as he crouched down in front of you. staring into his eyes, you’d never been afraid of him. never truly.

you were now.

“who is that man?” tsu’tey asked in a lower, calmer voice than you expected.

“jake sully,” you said. you wracked your brain for anything else remotely useful. “he…he’s new to the avatar program like me. he is a marine.”

“marine?” tsu’tey asked.

“warrior.” you said.

tsu’tey seemed to scowl. he rolled his eyes and shook his head. “demon warrior ends up here? by chance? tell me truthfully and i’ll reward you with not killing you…has this man been sent here?”

“no,” you said. the word jumped from your throat. all you could do was shake your head. you were trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him him. “i— i mean…i don’t think so.”

“but he could have been?” tsu’tey asked.

“not by grace…”

your heart sank. grace would’ve never sent anyone to infiltrate the omatikaya— but quaritch would.

he could.

he already had…

jake was a marine just like him. it was too easy. it was too perfect— and it was a real possibility.

had you not given the colonel enough information? did you not have the skills to give him the kind of information he needed to know? did he tangle jake into this because jake could find out exactly what it is that he wanted to know?

how the hell to kill tsu’tey.

you stared into tsu’tey’s eyes and you both knew there was only one way to get answers.

“i need you to return to your body and find out what you can about how he ended up here. if his story matches with grace’s…maybe eywa has a a twisted sense of humor after all.” tsu’tey looked past you and spoke in a whisper, “if this demon warrior has been sent to spy, it wouldn’t be the first time your people have sent someone here to do such a thing.”

your stomach dropped. you knew all too well the kind of spies they sent to infringe on the na’vi. you knew, too, the kind of man who devised such a thing.

maybe jake really had been planted here…

“okay.” you exhaled a soft breath and placed your hand on you belly where the anxious pit sat. “alright…but if i go back now i won’t be able to come back until tomorrow.”

tsu’tey leaned in close and placed his hand on your tummy. your eyes fell closed as he dragged his lips across your forehead. the pain in your belly melted away like ice cream on a hot day. you exhaled the breath you held trapped in your throat.

“na’vi warriors are brave.” tsu’tey looked down at you and tilted his head. “are you brave?”

are you a na’vi?

that was the question he did not ask.

where do your loyalties lie, eris?

“hang tight, okay? i’ll be back as soon as i can.” you said softly, your breath all tangled in your chest.

“i don’t know what ‘hang tight’ is but i will know relief once i see you again.” tsu’tey said.

heat flooded your cheeks and your ears perked. your tail swayed and you knew your pupils were as wide as the moon you’d never see again. slowly, you dipped your head and signed, i see you.

tsu’tey dipped his head the slightest bit.

he could see you, too, even if he was stubborn.

“go.” he ordered with a stern wave of his hand.

and off you went.

— 🌌 —

each time you returned to your body, you grew to hate the lab lights even more. you pushed yourself out of your link-pod. a group of specialists were surrounding jake’s pod. his face was displayed on the screen beside it. grace was smoking a cigarette with a look of utter defeat plastered on her face.

how many idiots was she going to lose?

two.

because there were only two people stupid enough to get lost— you and jake.

“you’re back early,” grace said as you made your way over.

“what’s going on?” you asked through the dryness in your mouth. whether it was because you hadn’t had water since this morning or the fact that you were anxious, you couldn’t tell.

“the marine got himself lost and separated.” grace sighed. she put out her cigarette on the top of jake’s pod and shook her head.

“how?” you asked even though you already knew.

well, you knew what jake told you.

but was jake’s story the real story?

“we were out on an excursion gathering samples. tree roots so that i could test my new hypothesis on the almost neural-like connection the trees have to each other. we stumbled too close to a viperwolf den and it was like the seventh circle of hell opened up on us.” grace said.

she looked up at the screen displaying jake’s face and rolled her eyes. “for as hard as he is to work with in the lab, tactically he’s a blessing. our trigger-happy marine sprung straight into actions and kept norm from getting his face torn off.”

“the funny thing is,” grace tapped jake’s pod and looked down at you. “he didn’t even shoot a single bullet. he used himself as bait and angered the pack. he was gone into the trees. norm’s avatar suffered some nasty injuries. i couldn’t wait to bring him back and so we had to leave jake.”

“i’m just hoping the poor bastard is somewhere safe.” grace said with her lips pressed into a thin line.

“jake is in home tree.”

grace’s brows drew together and her lips parted— but no words came out. not a sound.

you’d never seen grace speechless before.

the cogs turned in her mind and she nodded once. “and you were sent back because there’s no way in hell you didn’t recognize him. i’m sure that did not bode well with your teacher, huh?”

you shook your head. “no, ma’am. tsu’tey is now questioning whether or not we’re being planted in home tree to…to spy on them…”

it was difficult for you to say.

grace pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips. she inhaled a long, slow breath. when she let it out, all the tension she held went with it.

“well, i can’t really blame a skeptic for being skeptical, can i?” grace ran her hand through her short ginger hair. whatever she was thinking, it made you even more nervous when she stared at the red button that would pull jake from his link-pod.

“what?” you asked. the silence was nearly killing you.

“tsu’tey and i share a similar fear. if selfridge finds out one of the marine mutts is now in home tree, he’s going to tell the colonel. if the colonel knows, he’ll use jake to his advantage— and the last thing i need is for miles fucking quaritch to get his hands anywhere near my program.”

“we need to go.” grace said. she looked down and you and seemed to hesitate. “pack whatever you need. we won’t be back here for a while.”

your brows drew together and you shook your head. “what? where are we going?”

“we’re going full blue.” grace turned and sucked in a tight breath. she cursed inaudibly. “sorry about this jake.”

grace slammed her hand on the red button.

a swarm of people rushed over and grace was quick to open the hatch. you saw her begin to shine a light into jake’s eyes before the two of them were swallowed up by white coats. slowly, you turned away. you had to pack.

grace was sending the team incognito to try and sway the iron grip miles quaritch would hold on jake if he found out where jake’s avatar was.

grace was worried about the wrong avatar driver.

because you were about to become the colonels spy in both bodies.

thank you for reading :) hope you enjoyed! and thanks for the patience, too. i wish i had more time to write but alas… see ya when i see ya :P —moony

tag list: @plantgirliewholovespandora

next chapter >

[liv2post]

Serenading Him

I've begun a new mini series on ao3, but I will also be dropping the chapters here. It will be about five chapters total. Here is chapter 1!

Read here or on AO3.

(This series can be read with any gender for reader and will have 5 or 6 chapters total)

CHAPTER 1: What Is That Melody

It is said that life can be breathed into a place by the people who occupy it. A dingy cottage on the outskirts of a town can be a lovely home to a family simply doing their best to be happy while raising a child. A town suffering economically can be polished with a veneer of gaiety when the community is brought together for the merry festivities that sweep through the streets come wintertime. Even a school can be considered a home to those looking for an escape, friendship, new adventures…

But not Hogwarts.

Not anymore.

No longer could anyone call Hogwarts their home. A prison perhaps, considering the students had no choice but to live there for the next nine months. With Voldemort in control of the ministry and Severus acting as headmaster of the school, Hogwarts had become a place of desolation and fear. The boat rides from the train station, which once roused anticipation and excitement from faces old and new, now caused anxiety and embitterment. The students couldn’t even be themselves��� couldn’t be what they were: children. Instead, they were subjected to the strictest and borderline militaristic treatment. The Sorting Ceremony was no longer a joyful event. The only people who spoke a peep were Professor McGonagall and the Sorting Hat, leaving the room otherwise quiet, filled with a thick tension as the sorted students grimly shuffled to their respective houses.

The teachers tried their best to keep students engaged and cheerful during classes, but there was only so much they could do with the Carrows undoing all that work every day with their twisted teachings and abusive punishments. And all while this happened, Severus remained hidden in his ivory tower.

Severus hated it—hated himself for allowing over two decades' worth of bad decision-making to culminate into… this. The isolation was what kept his mind at bay. No one ever saw him in the halls or at meals. All his time was either spent in the Headmaster’s office, at Malfoy Manor attending meetings, or in some random countryside where only the ravens that nested in the pine trees could hear his anguished screams and spells he cast at boulders. He couldn’t bear to show his face to the colleagues he could once call friends. He was ashamed, each disdainful look he received from them on the first day was another arrow in his back. The pressure to wear a mask of indifference towards the suffering of students and a disposition of support for Voldemort tore him apart inside. How could they possibly understand his position? How could they possibly know that he was simply following the strategic instructions of the Headmaster he was forced to kill in cold blood? There was hardly any reprieve for him except for his walks through the Scotland hills, the bottom of a firewhiskey bottle…

And…

He could pinpoint the exact day it started. Precisely one month after the start of the school year, something strange began to happen in the castle. On Sunday night, a minute after curfew took effect, music would begin to play. The sound emanated throughout the castle, and its source was difficult to determine as a result of the castle’s stony walls encouraging an even echo. Severus recognized the instrument. It was what muggles called “electric guitars” and he only recognized it because the instrument's sound reminded him of the Weird’s Sisters performance at the Yule Ball.

As one might expect, the occurrence greatly vexed him the first night it happened. The instrument’s song echoed through the night air and a large set of windows he kept open at night and only closed right before retiring. Filch and the Carrows, not needing an order from the headmaster to know that they should find whoever was causing a disturbance after curfew, came up empty-handed. 

At first, everyone in the castle thought this was just a one-time thing, a show of rebellion against the people who had sucked all the fun out of Hogwarts, leaving it a shell of its former self. But then, it happened again. And again. And again.

Every Sunday at 9:01 PM a song would play from somewhere in the castle, its notes managing to reach even the dungeons. It was only one song, a different one each time. These short-lived performances made it more difficult for the Carrows and Filch to catch the offender. The other teachers didn’t mind. Neither did the students. In fact, they began to look forward to it. Each weekly performance gave them hope the following week would somehow get better, and that they shouldn’t give up despite the ruinous circumstances they found themselves in. That there was still a fight to be had.

By Halloween, Severus had given up trying to remain irritated by the music that pervaded the air. On a night filled with so much self-loathing and heartache toward the one he had lost, he couldn't muster the energy to even care, let alone walk to the windows and close them. He was halfway through a bottle sitting in a chair he was undeserving of, letting the music wash over him, placating him almost. Despite finding such an instrument to be distasteful and loud, the muggle music played was not. Few songs were familiar to him, including one song he heard at the beginning of December. He had closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, pretending to be somewhere else outside of this miserable sphere as the music echoed gently into his office from the night sky. The performance lasted just over three minutes and left his office in overwhelming silence once again. As he imagined it did with other students, it brought him a tiny bit of comfort and left him vaguely wondering what would be played the next Sunday night.

Watching from the Battlements, Severus sighed in relief when the last of the students exited the castle, guided by Hagrid and Filch towards the boathouse, and eventually the train station. It was the start of winter break and every student went home for the holidays. Who could blame them? The parents desperately wished for them to come home. Any letter he had received from parents about why their child was writing home about enduring the Cruciatius curse had been tossed in the fire. As if he could write them back or do anything about it, to begin with. It brought him some peace to know that the students would return home once again to be with their loved ones before the second half of the term. 

This, however, left the castle terribly empty. All the other teachers went home, even Filch, choosing to go to a squib village for the holidays since there would be no one to look after for the next few weeks, which left the headmaster all to his lonesome. It was his desire to leave as well, but it was required of him to stay over the holidays. And it wasn’t as though his destitute little home in Spinner’s End would be any better.

Reading, drinking, and thinking. That’s all he cared to do on his first day in the empty castle. In the morning he bypassed the rope that guarded the restrictive section and selected a book to read, usually some sort of history book, in the afternoons he walked around aimlessly like an Azkaban prisoner devoid of their soul, hoping something unsuspecting would come out of the Forbidden Forest and just end him already. At night he found solace in the amber liquid that sat in his hand as he stared into the fire, his mind a pendulum swinging back and forth from wondering how Potter and his friends were fairing while on the run to whether it was worth fighting the battle anymore.

Then he heard it.

Dum…Dum…Dum…Dum… 

His eyes flashed open from their once fluttery state as he snapped his head from the roaring fireplace to the barely opened windows. The music was back, but hadn’t all the students go home? The time on his wall clock displayed 9:01. That student was still here. 

He crossed to the other side of the room, pushed open the large windows, and listened to the introductory strumming of the guitar. As he listened he had a realization if he was able to hear the music this well from his office…

It had to be coming from one of the towers. 

He was going to find out who had been doing this.

With a swoosh of his robes, his body resembled that of a tattered cloak or a lethifold as he took off through his open windows and into the night sky. He had to be very careful to avoid the dementors posted around the school, whose job was to make sure students didn't try to escape via broom. He swept around to each tower only stopping for only a moment to see if a student was present. Time was of the essence as he expected the performance to last only a few minutes as they had before. The more he flew around the closer to the music he got, leaving him with one last destination. 

The Astronomy Tower. It was the highest point in Hogwarts and had an almost 360-degree pan opening to the night sky, which meant the sound could travel far and wide.

Severus landed quietly just beyond the other side of the railing and his suspicions were confirmed. The music, now deafening, sounded as though it was coming from right on top of him. When he looked around he saw no one, even when he looked up towards the hollowed ceiling. And right as the song was about to reach its crescendo—

“Homenum Revelio,” he chanted, swishing his wand about the air.

There was a disembodied wind-like noise, indicating that a human presence had been revealed. Sitting against the incline of a load-bearing beam up in the air was a 7th-year student, one leg bent while the other dangled off with a look of mild surprise on their face. He recognized you. You were one of his best students in the time he was your potion’s Professor and continued to hear many things about you from Slughorn. You were also set to graduate this year with many NEWT classes beneath your belt and a recommendation from Slughorn, but upon the start of Severus’s reign as headmaster, you had mysteriously dropped every subject except for Charms. No one had answers but granted, very few asked.

He remembered you as someone who was rather polite. Quiet, but amicable enough that people felt they could ask you questions. Otherwise, you kept to yourself.

You blinked down at him from your spot, strumming hand frozen before you slowly lowered it while your gaze remained locked on the Headmaster.

“So it has been you breaking the rules and serenading all of Hogwarts,” he drawled, stiffly.

You returned no verbal reply, only a silent, subtle nod of confirmation. His eyes flicked over the instrument that rested across your torso. It was glowing a light blue, presumably a spell that empowered it to work properly in the manner it would in the muggle world.

“Why?”

“...I wanted to piss the Carrows off,” you eventually said after opening and closing your mouth.

“You have surely succeeded in that endeavor,” he stated quietly. “Come down from there.”

Severus watched in silence as you slung the instrument around you with a strap and carefully scaled your way back down to the dusty floors of the Astronomy Tower. His eyes flit over your attire as you turned to face him. You were dressed in muggle clothes, wearing an especially thick sweatshirt to help combat the frigid winter air. 

“You chose not to go home as everyone else has?”

“My “home” has been reduced to a pile of rubble for a few months now,” you murmured.

His brows scrunched together momentarily before softening in understanding. He recalled you being a half-blood, but not every half-blood was safe, especially if the parents were outspoken about pro-muggle views. “What of your parents?”

“In America. Hopefully. I don't know if they made it. I’m supposed to meet them there upon graduation, assuming I manage to have my escape arranged properly.”

A buzzing crackle of energy lit between the two of you. 

“Very few would take the risk of admitting such plans to flee eventual capture in the face of a Death Eater. Especially one so close to the Dark Lord.” Severus narrowed his eyes at you, his tone remaining calculated as he chose his words carefully to feel out the situation. He needed absolute confirmation, not some fickle half-belief statements in which straws would be grasped.

Both your eyes searched one another for any whisper of doubt and uncertainty, you making sure his hand stayed away from his wand specifically. But with just a few words, you swept any possible reluctance off the table.

“...I know what you are, Professor.”

His eyes flashed and his Occlumency walls went up in pure reflexive instinct.  

“If you truly did not care for the students, you wouldn’t have sent all those kids off to have detention with Hagrid instead of letting their fate fall to Amycus and Alecto. They would’ve had them begging for death.” Your eyes drifted over to the spot Dumbledore would have stood before he plummeted from the rails of the Astronomy Tower. Severus followed your gaze and internally winced at where you were looking. 

“This is the last place I would expect to see you.”

Severus calmly turned and ambled back towards the railing, cold hands clasped beneath his cloak. “I don’t wish to be at Hogwarts as a whole any more than you do,” he murmured, the underlying truth tacitly laid bare before you, confirming the prospect you were desperately hoping to be correct. And he was being surprisingly… soft with you, a fact that only helped your case and your suspicions of his true ideals.

He saw no point in lying to you. He was tired. So tired. Playing this role was killing him. He was confident enough in his own Occlumency to hide this conversation from the Dark Lord, but someone needed to know of his true intentions. He needed that mental support to keep him going and he wasn’t going to get it from the portrait of the man who ensnared him into this whole ordeal.

“And yet here you are,” you replied with a similar gentleness.

“The path ahead of me is a Hobson’s choice. Surely, you are insightful enough to understand that.”

You nodded, the wood beneath you creaking as you approached the railing, but kept a certain distance between the two of you. “I do. I just didn’t expect you to linger for the break.”

“It is difficult to traverse discreetly when your name and face have been plastered in major news outlets. I’m ordered to remain here and should I be spotted outside of Hogwarts or Hogsmeade, the news will surely get back to the Dark Lord. And one cannot just polyjuice anyone without knowing their blood type as insurance.” He side-eyed you. “Given the circumstances, I’m surprised you haven’t taken the break as an opportunity to run.”

“There are too many uncertainties at play,” you responded. “It's a waiting game for me. Should it all go wrong, I need to have learned to conceal myself properly by then.”

“Is that why you are only taking Charms?”

“...Yes. DADA has been tainted, the seventh-year potions are of no use to me, and it…” you shook your head looking towards the Great Lake that sparkled in the moonlight. “It won’t matter. I’m just…done. I’m going back to the muggle world. Away from all this. It’s my best shot at safety.”

He glanced at you solemnly. “You are not confident in Potter?” You are not confident in me? 

You sighed. “I'll…do what I need to do here to keep morale up, but…no. Potter has proven to be unpredictable and it is not wrong of me to think of self-preservation in these times.”

He exhaled faintly. “No, I suppose it isn’t.”

Neither of you said anything else except for Snape telling you to return to your common room lest you catch your death up here. However, the both of you would retire for the night with a crumb of comradery nestled somewhere in your hearts.

Next Chapter

[nox140497]

The Depths of Love

Prompt: No

Request: No

Prompt Number: None

Summery: Afer filming a scary video where he could have gotten hurt. Sam realizes just what his girlfriend Y/N would do for him and how far she is willing to go for him.

Pairings: Sam Golbach x Female Reader

Masterlist

Prompt List

_______________________________

As I looked back at the footage we had captured, my heart pounded with fear and adrenaline. Colby and I had just risked our lives exploring an abandoned building, and the video we had filmed was sure to give our viewers a good scare. But as I watched the tense and dangerous moments on screen, a feeling of guilt washed over me.

I turned to Colby, who was grinning and high-fiving me for the amazing shots we had captured. But I couldn't shake the feeling that we had been reckless and foolish.

It wasn't until I returned home and saw my girlfriend Y/N waiting for me with a look of worry and relief on her face that I fully understood the gravity of our actions. She hugged me tightly and scolded me for putting myself in danger, but I could tell she was also relieved that we had made it back unharmed.

As I lay in bed that night, I couldn't stop thinking about Y/N. I realized that while I had been off having fun and chasing thrills with Colby, she had been worrying about my safety and waiting for me to return home.

The next day, I sat Y/N down and watched the exploration video with her. Her reaction was exactly what I had feared – she was terrified and angry that I had put myself in harm's way.

'I just don't understand why you would risk your life like that,' she said, tears welling up in her eyes. 'I love you, and I couldn't bear to lose you.'

I felt a pang of guilt in my chest. Y/N loved me so much, and yet, I had been so reckless with my life. I realized then that I needed to change and start considering the consequences of my actions.

From that day on, I made sure to always put safety first in all of our videos. Whenever I embarked on a dangerous adventure, I made sure to let Y/N know how much she meant to me and that I would do everything in my power to come back to her unharmed.

Y/N's love and devotion taught me a valuable lesson – that the love of a partner is worth more than any thrill or adrenaline rush. I was lucky to have someone who cared for me so deeply, and I promised myself never to take her for granted again.

I am grateful for that scary exploration video, not only because it gave our viewers a good scare, but also because it made me realize just how much Y/N would do for me and how far she was willing to go to protect me.

[strawberryparfaiit]

i wonder if the brazilians ever feel lonely in their own bases

pac and mike have chume labs, a big lab with all the stuff they need to do their experiments and test their creativity. it's in the prettiest biome they could find, it's made with blocks that have their signature colors. but do you think, late at night, they miss hearing cellbit's footsteps to get another cup of coffee or felps speaking alone in his house?

forever is building his megabase, that is very pretty and he is putting so much effort on it. but, do you think that, when people come to visit, he regrets not building it near someone's house? do you think, everytime baghera leaves after coming to tell him something, or everytime bad pranks his base putting one of skeppy's statues, he feels like there is something missing? do you think he misses being able to live so near to someone that he didn't had to deal with the loneliness that came from not having the others brazilians living near?

cellbit lives in his big castle with his husband, so he is not alone. but do you think he misses when forever used to go to ordo theoritas and offer him a cup of coffee because he is pulling an all nighter? do you think he misses going to see how quackity's base is going and putting a mine just to prank him? do you think he misses waking up and seeing tazercraft and richas going for an adventure, leaving the favela while they talk abou where they are going?

maybe, late at night, while felps is mining all those stones, trying to build a hole, he misses the lights iluminating the streets of the favela? maybe, he misses seeing his friends everyday too. does he wonders if, it is really worth mining all of that?

even if they still can visit each other when they want, it's still lonely. they built that favela. they started at that hill, all five together. now, they all are established: two of them are cientists, building minigames and exploring to the limits of their creativity; the other is the president, with a lot of new responsabilities; the other is married, but never let go of his purprose as an investigator; and, the last, is trying to build his place, trying to build a home after getting kidnapped for such a long time.

[oceansssblue]

100 CELEBRATION — PROMPT 17. PRINCE&SERVANT AU

REX/F READER 💖💔

WARNINGS: servant/slavery themes, social gap, mentions of war, soulbonds, first crush, fantasy aspects.

Note: Here we have a really fluffy timid sweet one for a servant!rex and princess!femalereader !! It will start in their childhood and skip through time. Switches between 1st pov and 3rd pov. Hope you like it! Xx, Blue.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The citizens of Bahr were also known as "water spirits" because of their surprising affinity with water creatures. The humanoid species could survive both underwater and in land; which made Bahr's cities beautifully diverse. Some towns were completely built under the ocean; others were constructed besides lakes and rivers. The Outer Rim planet had joined the Republic Alliance not so long ago; also enthraced by the idea of bidirectional protection and the reputation of the GAR. The Kaminoans had created clones of a mandalorian warrior that they later trained for different purposes; sold in batches all around the Republic for both servitude and personal army.

For the birth of Bahr's princess –the first descendant of King Fraland and Queen Altea– a new order of clones was sent to Kamino; and the kaminoans produced new batches of CT's and CC's and trained them for their new life. Some would end up serving in the palace or any of the Crown's properties; others would add to Bahr's already impressive army.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You had grown up with all the commodities of the world; from endless food on the table to the prettiest of dresses. As the only princess of Bahr, your education had been impecable as well; closely monitored by the planet's best academics and literates. You had a small flock of servants personally encharged of you; from nannies that looked after you during the day or night, to other female bahrises who were tasked to help you dress or join you in any of your multiple hobbies. Not all servants in the palace were natives; but yours were.

You had always been curious about the others, the humans; the clones. They were young too –almost as young as yourself– and from a different species; and they were boys. It was inevitable to want to find more about them. However, both the Queen and your nanies had always scolded you whenever you had tried to interact with one; so you had eventually given up on being friends with them. You still curiously observed them in the distance.

It was only at eight years old when you had your first conversation with a clone. With three clones, to be precise. They were arguing about going out on an adventure; and that had instantly caught your attention. Life in palace was –though you knew you were incredibly lucky– often boring. The oportunity of going outside was too tempting to ignore.

You remained hidden behind one of the numerous statues that were placed on both sides of the corridors –old Kings and Queens of Bahr, your ancestors–; attention tunned in in the conversation between the three boys. They weren't speaking in your native language; but your teachers had already taught you a handful of others, mando'a being one of them.

"We're not going to be able to see them properly, Fives" one of the boys said, voice a mix of exasperation and resignation. "They only come up to the surface when two true soulmates are on their own there".

Your curiosity deepens; they're talking about the Lake of the Soulmates; were small water dragons live in harmony until a couple of soulmates call them. Only in pairs they will respond; only when genuine, sincere emotions came into play. It was a sacred tradition on Bahr; though some often used it as a proof of a partner's intentions or honesty. It was a beautiful idea, the fact that soulmates existed, that someone was made specifically for you; you had always dreamed of visiting it.

"Yeah, I know" the boy named Fives whispered. "But won't seing them even under the surface be worth it? Please, Echo. I'm so tired of being trapped in here".

Something softened in Echo's face; the boy glancing at the third clone of the group with reluctant acceptance. This last one had short blond hair; a trait you hadn't seen in the rest of his brothers. It was a beautiful contrast with the bronze of his skin.

"If we get caught we could be punished or even decomissioned" he wasn't fully convinced either, though it was clear he wanted to go as well. "I don't know if we should risk it".

This was the perfect chance for you to step in.

You left the secrecy of your hideout; quietly walking towards them.

"You wouldn't be if you kindly allowed me to join you".

The three clones showed various levels of surprise and fear; jumping at the unexpected sound of your voice. Their eyes widenned.

"P-princess!" Fives stuttered, back in your native language.

Echo and the clone with the blond hair straightened inmediately.

"I desire to visit the Soulmate Lake as well" you continued, undisturbed. "I've always felt curious about them. If you allow me to tag along, and the guards find us, you may even tell them I asked you to follow me there; since I wasn't keen on going on my own. Do we have an agreement?"

Fives grinned; the other two looked unsure. Upon the first's incesant pleadings, they finally gave in, nodding in silence. The blond one turned towards you, speaking to you with a timid politeness.

"Your majesty, you may want to change to a less delicate shoe choice" he pointed out, carefully, and your eyes travelled down to your cristal sparkling sandals.

"Oh!" You blushed softly. "You are right, of course. I'll retire and switch to a more comfortable pair. I will see the three of you in the North Door in ten".

You gave them a firm nod and walked away. You were going to see the water dragons for the first time ever.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

At first, Fives, Echo and Rex were incredibly wary and tense around the princess. They had grown up learning about her; about how important she was and the responsabilities she was destined to carry. They were taught how to behave around royals; how they were not the same. It was shocking, the fact that she had even talked to them. The way she phrased things was a bit unusual, and perhaps so were some of her gestures and manerisms; but in all honestly, for a princess, she looked pretty normal.

The small trip to the Lake of the Soulmates was filled with Fives animated story-telling; Rex and Echo having long learnt how to filter him out, while the princess looked almost engrossed in his tale. All words extinguished when they finally arrived, though; the beauty of the scene that powerfull. The water looked almost like a mirror of the sky above; the trees painted in vibrant greens and oranges. There was a sort of magical peace that could almost be breathed in.

"Woah" Fives looked and wandered around almost in a trance.

Echo grabbed his shoulder and tugged him back before his brother could accidentally dip a feet on the lake's water.

The three clones and the princess made their way to the edge of it and kneeled on the grass, carefully pushing their bodies forward to inspect it; trying to get a peak of the creatures swimming beneath. But the creatures stayed hidden –as Echo had predicted–; and soon the adrenaline and excitement of the adventure extinguished.

Rex discovered himself observing the princess instead. Her hair was pinned up in an intricate updo; and a small sparkly tiara was perfectly positioned on top of her head. She had what looked like diamond earings too; and she was wearing a –expensive, he was sure– violet dress with some more accesories around her wrists and neck. Under all of that, Rex noticed her big expressive eyes and the warmth of her smile. He had always thought royalty as cold and distant –no matter how well they governed–; but perhaps he had been wrong all along. The princess chuckled at something Fives said; and Rex's eyes couldn't stop staring at her.

A splash and a gasp finally called his attention; wonder and excitement shining again in all of their faces. There was a water dragon close to the surface; it was a blurred mix of blues, cyan on it's head and turning progressively darker towards the blue indigo of the tail. The creature seemed to be curious about them as well; as it swam close to the four kids for a few minutes before dissapearing into the depths of the lake again.

They all glanced at each other in shock before chuckling and smiling happily. They stayed for what felt like another hour there, with mainly Fives and Echo bickering and Rex and the princess quietly observing. It was peaceful; freeing. Rex tenderly saved the memory in his mind.

The grins were still painted on their faces with their return to the palace.

"I had a wonderful time" the princess aknowledged them before they had to part ways. "Thank you for your company".

Fives grinned, showing a silly thumbs up.

"Yeah, cool shit, princess".

Echo rolled his eyes at his brother's choice of words and lack of proper decorum; and smacked the back of his head.

Fives shot a glance at him, pouting and catching up on Echo's silent complaint inmediately.

"Hey! I said princess!"

Luckily for all of them, the royal only watched them in amusement.

"We enjoyed your company as well, your majesty" Rex tried to spare them, nodding politely, golden brown eyes making contact with the princess's. "We wish you a good rest of your evening".

She smiled genuineningly; then courtsied in a last goodbye, walking away timidly, a small happy skip to her step.

Fives and Echo bickered at his back. Rex only wished their escapade to remain a secret –for their safety–; and to have shown the princess –she'd be their queen, someday– that clones weren't that bad.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Weeks pass after that evening with the clone boys; but thoughts about them haven't yet left your mind. You don't have much contact with people your age –or any at all, for that fact–; and you somehow find yourself yearning for more. You had enjoyed the afternoon with them; void of responsabilities and the pressure of being a princess. A royal. There was no-one to watch you with a critic at the tip of their tongue; no one to tell you how to talk or move, to punish you for things that weren't considered lady like. The memory of that tiny bit of freedom, of life, had stayed roaming around in your mind.

You had carefully asked around; tried to find more information about them. They worked in the kitchens; and though there were a few complaints about them being a bit of trouble, you generally only heard good things about the three clones. They were only two years –one, in Rex's case– younger than you; though a maid had –tried to– explain to you that with the clone's accelerated aging they'd look progressively older very soon.

Temptatively, you had tried to interact with them in the few months that followed the first escapade. They reacted exactly the same way as the first time; first with cautious wariness, and then slowly easing into a quiet, gentle friendship. Fives was the main source of trouble; Echo being the one to often reel him in and cut his crazyness short. He still joined him in few ocassions, though, and then it was Rex's turn to be the voice of reason. He was not boring by any chance –in fact, you find him very intriguing–; he just seemed more mature. Rex was observant, and surprisingly firm for someone as young as him; but he knew how to relax too. You felt warm each time you caught sight of his gentle smile.

You're on a quest to personally ask the palace's main cook to bake your favorite pie when you caught sight of them again; though not in a pleasant situation. Fives, Echo and Rex are all standing up in front of a –very obviously– angry chef; heads lowered down in a sign of repentance while the man screams inches away of their face. A quick glance around is enough to know what this is all about. The kitchen is a mess; almost as if there had been a fight –or an explosion– of flour all around. You understand the need to reprimand them if this has been the case; but the way the cook is spitting ill-words so close to their faces rubs you the wrong way.

"Useless clones, genetically engineered for what? You can't even behave in a kitchen! It's a relief you can't roam around through Bahr!"

Different degrees of hurt and anger crosses the boys faces. It grows like a flame inside of you as well.

"We understand your point, sir" Rex grits out, eyes still on the floor but posture firm. "It won't happen again".

"Of course it won't!" The cook suddenly invades his personal space and takes a violent hold of his face, nails digging into the skin of both cheeks to obligue Rex to look at him. "Because if you do, i'll make sure you're all sent back to Kamino and never see a ray of sunglight ever again!"

Something inside of you fiercely wakes up and shakes. A wave of ire and an overwhelming need to protect spreads through your veins; and you take a step into the kitchen and clear your throat, eyes settling on the cook in a heated stare.

"Princess!" The man exclaims, releasing the boy's face and taking a step back in utter surprise.

The three clones inmediately look at you. You want to comfort them, but it is a priority to get them away from this man first.

"Let this be the last time you dare to treat anyone this way" your voice holds an authority that doesn't really come from being a royal, but of a fierce heart that won't let any other option exist. "You will request a transfer to any other of the Crown's properties and leave inmediately".

The man is so shocked he almost sputters in his place.

"B-but princess..." his eyes flicker over your smaller form in a desperate way to find something to convince you with. "I'm the only one who knows how to bake your favorite Jhogan pie!"

Your expresion turns to one of disgust. The fact that this man...

"My favorite dessert can't be more irrelevant as opposed to the safety of other's lifes. I have given you the option to continue working elsewhere as a courtsey for all the years you've been working for us; but if you insist, I can make sure you won't find a job anywhere in Bahr".

The clear warning is enough to shut all of the cook's complaints down; and he turns around to send a hatefull glance to the three clones as if they have been the ones to dig his way out.

"Leave" you almost hiss then, years of trained patience coming to an end.

The man nods tersely, huffs, and walks away.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you're left alone in the kitchen with the other three boys. Their posture relax too; inmediately aproaching each other and mutually making sure they are all safe and good. The need extends to you.

"Are you alright?" You ask them, slowly aproaching them.

Fives and Echo look at you. Rex, for some reason, keeps staring at the floor.

"Yeah" Echo eventually answers. "Thank you for the save, princess. It was a kind gesture of you".

To your surprise, Fives steps forward and envelops you in a big, sudden hug.

"It was awesome! Did you see his face?" He laughs, and you chuckle as he releases you and takes a step back.

"It looked like his head was going to explode from holding all his anger back" you confirm with a tiny smile.

Your eyes travel back to Rex; who is still painfully silent, expresion closed off as if he were thinking of something deeply emotional and delicate.

"Hey" you carefully squeeze his shoulder and he breaks off of his trance, golden eyes locking on yours. "Are you okay?"

His eyes flicker over your face. He nods without saying a thing.

Your hand moves up and your fingertips carefully graze the skin of his redenned cheek. They won't be hurt like that ever again.

"You should get that checked by the doctor" you advise gently, lowering your traitorous hand to it's rightfull place. "Some marks have managed to break the skin and they might scar if you don't tend to them".

His golden eyes continue staring at you; creating a mess of contradicting and confusing emotions and thoughts you're too young to descipher yet.

"I will" Rex finally says.

When you leave the kitchen two minutes later, you murmur a soft and quiet "keep an eye on him" to Fives. The clone nods and grins.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It has been a long day for Rex and his brothers. Their working conditions are vastly different from those of two years ago; from when the princess had faced off the main palace cook and sent the monster away. When she had protected them. The memory is still vivid and clear in Rex's memory. She had been so small, so young; and yet her voice had held such a fierce authority. She clearly cared for them; and in a world where clones –where he– meant nothing, that had touched Rex's heart.

Not having a dickhead for a boss doesn't make the hours and hours of baking any less demanding, though; and Rex can feel the ache on his muscles begging for a rest. He's on his way to the servant's floor when he hears music floating down the stairs; it's such a beautiful melody that the curious clone is already following it with quiet steps. He recognises the sound of the clarinas; small air instruments native from Bahr. But there's someone singing as well; and Rex's instincts are pushing him towards it, for some misterious reason he has no time –or desire– to analise.

He comes to a stop in front of the music salon; and takes a quiet peak inside to scan the room. At first, his eyes widen in surprise; then, he's left staring enthraced, hipnotized. He didn't know she could sing like that. The princess's voice is sweet and delicate; her range gently dancing over the notes in a peaceful melody. The song has a hint of melancholy; like a bird who sees the beauty of the outside world and feels awed and warmed by it, but can't quite hold enough strength on his wings to fly in it.

Rex golden eyes are absort on her face for the few minutes he stays listening; until a maid passing by the corridor softly reprimands him and he flushes in silence, straigthening back up guiltily.

"Don't just stand there all day, young boy. Go on" the woman tuts with a knowing smile on her face, and Rex fights down his blush and walks away.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When you almost run into Rex in one of your late afternoon walks through the gardens, you can't help but gasp and stare at him in surprise. And not just because of the unexpected, clumsy encounter; but because of how different he looks. His growth has sprinted in this last four years. While you're looking your age –fourteen, now–, Rex –his brothers too– appear to be seventeen or so; the physical signs and changes of their teenage years dissapearing in a blink and quickly transitioning into his current appearence. He's tall, really tall now; slightly towering above you when you had once been of the same height. His facial features have changed too; shaped into firm, sharp lines. Gone is the kid Rex once was; he's certainly turning into a young man.

"Your majesty" he gives you a small courtsey and you smile at him with warmth. No matter how many little interactions you've both had over the years, Rex has never dropped certain formalities around you. It's endearing, really. "Enjoying a bit of fresh air before dinner is served?"

You nod without dropping your smile.

"Yes, indeed. The gardens are beautiful this time of the year, and a break from the noise of the palace is always welcomed" you pause and study him briefly. "Would you like to join me?"

Surprise fills his expresion; an sort of timid hesitance following.

"If you're sure, princess. I wouldn't want to disturb your moment of peace...".

You chuckle and tilt your head in a carefree grin.

"I wouldn't have offered if I found your presence disturbing, Rex" you tease him in good humour, gently linking your hand around his arm and tugging forward carefully. "It will be a short stroll, don't worry".

He doesn't say a thing. His golden eyes travel down to your hand anchored on his –surprisingly defined– bycep; then back to your face. It almost looks like he's thinking what the kriff you're doing with him. Ah, you suppose this tiptoes the line of being a royal, taking a walk with a –male– servant; but you can't help yourself. You enjoy his presence; always have, and right now a relaxing stroll between friends sounds nice.

Trying not to dwell on the fact that your bodies are touching –and the tingling sensation derived from it– you fill the –perhaps initially akward– silence with curiosities and stories about the plants you pass by; wether it's just their medical use or a particularity of a flower, or some other tradition that is rumoured in Bahr. He listens attentively, quietly; only intervening here and there. It's only after a while when you grow self-conscious; realising you're perhaps talking a bit too much.

"Forgive me" you smile guiltily, hand dropping from where you had been pointing at the petals of yet another flower. "You probably don't find all of this rants about flora interesting. You might not even like flowers for all I know..."

To your honest surprise, Rex carefully tugs said hand forward and holds it in his, gently squeezing.

"I do" he replies calmly, soothing your worries, voice deeper than it had been just a year ago. He glances at the green jade flowers and back at you. "It's the colour of your eyes, princess".

It's such an unexpected comment –and more so coming from him– that you can't control the flustered blush that inmediatelly spreads through your cheeks and down your neck. You shyly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with your other hand; warmth spreading from where you hold him with the other one –as if some sort of energy were flowing between the two of you–.

Rex doesn't retract his comment; temptitavely caressing the dorso of your hand with his thumb, and a peacefull, almost pensive expresion on his face. You fall equally enthraced by him; gaze lost in the tenderness of his warm, golden eyes, on this new feeling sparkling between the two of you.

You had just started to see boys in another way; and Rex... Rex is beautiful. The sunset does wonders on his bronze skin, brings the gold out of his gentle brown eyes, he is undeniably handsome and his physicall appearence has nothing to envy the...

"Princess! Your majesty!" the urgent voice of your maid breaks the moment rather abruptly, tearing you out of your trance cruelly. "The King and Queen have been waiting for you in the Grand Comedor for almost ten minutes now!"

The woman continues to rant from far away, and you turn to look back at Rex with an amused chuckle –cheeks still redenned and already missing the warmth of his hand in yours–.

"I shall better go before they send a flock of angry maids to find me" you joke, still a hint of shyness on your voice and face.

Rex nods and takes a polite step back. You ignore how much your heart complains about that.

"Of course" he agrees, eyes still fixed on yours. "Have a good night, princess".

Your smile is as soft as melting butter.

"You as well, Rex".

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The next day, upon numerous innapropiate whispers of maids and servants all around the palace that reaches the rulers ears, three clones are sent away to be trained in Bahrs army. When a week later the princess's personal maids finally ask the royal sucessor the reason for her late melancholy, she brushes it aside and conjures an empty smile. She's a bird; but she has no wings.

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Seven years later, life has not changed much. At least for you. At 21, you have more responsabilities as the Crown's succesor, and take a participant role in Bahr's important decisions; but that aside, life around you moves like it always has. Slow and boring; though comfortable and coveted. Diplomatic travels have become part of your favorite rutine At least that way you're able to explore Bahr's diverse cities, though you're not completely free to roam around as you'd like, but tied to long dinners and debates.

Your father has subtly questioned you about wether if you feel connected to any of Bahr's important houses heirs. Your answer has always been short and clipped. It's not that you hate all of them; some are not pretentious and fairly good company –hadsome, even–, but none make your heart skip a bit. You'll settle for someone eventually; but for now, you'll still hold onto the hope that someone who can will appear.

You're lost in thoughts when the sound of someone arriving at the Lake of the Soulmates –you had taken to visit it sort of regularly lately– pulls you out of your mind. You glance back at the new comer; a gasp inmediately abandoning your lips, face shifting with shock and surprise.

"R-rex?"

You stand up from the blanket you've placed on the grass, carefully making your way towards him. He looks just as shocked; stunned. It has been seven years since you last saw each other. He's so... He's a man, now. His eyes, though... His golden eyes hold the same gentleness.

"Princess..." he takes two slow steps towards you as well –until you're both standing in front of each other, your chin tilting up so you can see his face–. "Long time no see".

You shoot him a fond smile.

"Yes" your eyes flicker over every inch of his face. His brow is more pronounced, his jaw sharper. His lips... pouty. "You've changed".

Age has done nothing but make him look more atractive. The white and blue armour he's currently wearing –clinging to his strong muscles– only make the picture prettier.

"You as well, princess. You look..." he stops himself, cheeks tinged in red.

You can feel your heart trying to beat it's way out of your chest. You're nervous, but excited; you encourage him to finish the sentence with bright eyes and a tempting smile.

"I look?"

At first, Rex seems to hesitate; then, the soldier squares his shoulders and fixes his eyes on yours.

"You look more beautiful than ever, princess".

He tells you this tenderly but firmly; like there's no option to disagree, like it's an universal truth. The quiet passion swirling in his golden eyes makes your heart clench; tugging the corner of your lips into a radiant smile.

You close the small distance between each other with another tiny step; your body almost grazing his.

Years and years of lessons on politeness and decency, on how a royal should behave, sprints through your mind; though they are quickly shut down in favor of the fire that burns bright in your heart. Rex... Rex makes your heart skip a bit. Perhaps he always has –even when in your young age you couldn't see it as clearly as now–.

"You do too, Rex" you whisper fervently, looking up at him. "Beautiful".

Rex releases a deep breath; almost as if he had been afraid of you reacting badly to his compliment. He closes the eyes for a few seconds; as if saving the moment in his memory.

You gather your courage and swallow your own insecurities down; temptitavely caressing his hand with the very tip of your fingers –a sort of cautious invitation to do more about it–.

Rex opens his eyes and glances at you in surprise.

"Is this... okay?" you ask him timidly, hand almost trembling with your nervousness.

Rex looks to be lost in your eyes; he barely reacts, not moving a single inch.

"Y-yes, yes. If you want to, princess..."

The carefull caress turns into proper holding hands. You smile at how right such a simple thing feels.

"Will you ever call me by my name?" You tease him in good humour, a little amused chuckle escaping your lips.

Rex's eyes travel around as if you have put him in a four way crossroad.

"I shouldn't..."

Perhaps years and years of lessons on how not to behave around and with royals are flickering through his mind too.

The fire inside of you burns stronger. You end the distance between your bodies, softly anchoring yourself to him and gently wrapping your hands around his shoulders. He freezes, eyes fixed on your face, now so close to his.

"But I want you too" you reply, fervently.

Rex swallows; and you can almost feel his throat move.

"It might take some time for me to get used to it. But I can try... meshla".

You release all your tension and nervousness with a long, happy sigh; closing your eyes and pressing your forehead against his plated chest, breathing the warmth feeling he provoques in you in. Rex hands tentatively takes place in your back and caresses you gently. His tension deflates as well in the tender embrace.

Splashing water sounds force you to break apart; you both glance at the lake, but upon finding everything as usual, quickly return to search into each other's gaze. You already miss his arms around you –yours around him–; though there's still minimum space between you.

"How have you been all this time, Rex?" You ask him fondly. "You've been working for the army, have you not?"

"Just got promoted to Captain, yes" he confirms, and your eyes fly down to quickly study the pauldron on his shoulder and his blue kama, armour touches and upgrades you know well. "It has been..."

He hesitates, and you encourage him to continue with a soft smile.

"Go on. You can be frank with me".

Rex sighs and confesses.

"It's better than staying in the palace all day, every day. It makes me feel more usefull, valuable. I'm protecting people. Doing good things" he takes a breath in and quietly admits, a troubled expresion on his face. "It's not an easy task, though. I've seen... Men and woman die, lost friends. I never realised just how many brothers I had in Bahr until I started to feel like I was losing them".

His words and emotions are so honest and raw it brings tears to your eyes; though you don't allow a single one to fall.

You hold his hands in yours.

"I'm sorry, Rex. That Fives, Echo and you all felt trapped in the palace and then forced to walk away. Every native servant has decided to be there; but you clones never had the oportunity to choose. I'm sorry you've lost family as well. I hope one day you'd be able to forgive me, Rex..."

He shows you a fond smile and gentle squeezes your hand with one hand; the other coming up to cup your face.

"It's not like you had any say in our creation, meshla, or what we came to be. You were just a child as well. And honestly, the King treats us much better than other clones in other parts of the galaxy. I'm happy with where I am now; Fives and Echo as well".

"How are they, Echo and Fives?" You curiously ask him, wanting to know about the other two boys –now men– as well.

Rex smile can only be defined as proud.

"They're doing well. Both got promoted to ARC's at the same time, which is why we're all in the Capital now. There's going to be a small ceremony in the palace for all new ARC's, Commanders and Captains".

You blink in surprise.

"Oh, I wasn't aware of this".

Rex shrugs.

"I don't believe the royal family attends this" he explains "just some other high ranks from the army and the war council. It's a small thing".

You tilt up your chin and make up a quick decision.

"It's a big thing for you. I'll be there"

"You don't have to, prin... meshla..."

You smile and squeeze his hand.

"I know. I'll still try".

Rex nods, innerly touched and gratefull; and you're both left in silence for a few seconds, studying each other's hands and eyes.

"I thought of doing this a lot when we were kids" you confess, voice quiet.

Rex shoots you a surprised look.

"Holding hands?" He asks, a timid expresion on his face too.

"Among other things" you admit with a blush.

Rex is shocked by your confession; but his eyes only fill with tenderness and warmth.

"Why didn't you?"

You shrug.

"I was reprimanded a lot, told to not interact with the three of you. I was also afraid of you only accepting because you'd be afraid to say no and... And I was shy and just a child. I didn't truly understand what I was feeling and what to do about it" you glance to the say and chuckle, cheeks painted in an embarassed red. "You were my first boy crush".

Rex can't believe at first the words that are coming out of your mouth. But he sees the honesty in your eyes, the vulnerability, the tenderness and the desire; and he knows it's the beautiful truth.

He smiles and caresses your cheek with his thumb. He decides to confess as well.

"I would have accepted anything from you, princess, and not out of obligation".

Warmth spreads inside of you; this time the title sounding more of a sweet, personal pet name on his lips than a polite status reference.

Rex decides to risk it all. His other hand also travels up to cup your face in his palms; softly tilting it up towards him so he can study and caress every inch of your skin with his golden eyes.

"And now, meshla? Now that we aren't kids?"

"I..." you want him. You love him. He's the one. "I want the same things".

Rex's relieved breath flickers over your face; and barely a second later, he dips down to catch your lips in a tender, heartfelt kiss. You make a small, pleased sound in your throat and surrender to him; body melting in his embrace and kissing him back with the same softness and hunger, both mixed into perfect bliss.

When you're forced to breathe, Rex rests his forehead against you in what you know is a Keldabe kiss; taking each other in.

"I've told myself a million times iver the years that this couldn't be. That you were just a dream, an illusion I would never reach".

Your heart aches. Perhaps true, honest love is just like that; so raw and powerfull it heals as much as it aches.

You nuzzle your nose against his and answer him softly.

"I know there's responsabilities to both and that we'll face more than one public judgement. We will need to be carefull. But I've always felt curious about you, Rex. We're both older now. Perhaps things won't work out, and that's okay; but I feel very strongly towards you and I'd like to have the chance to see where this goes now".

Rex smiles and pecks your lips again. Oh, you'll soon grow addicted to it.

"Like I said, princess, I'll take whatever you're willing to give" he grins, and you're so happy you can't help but laugh against his lips.

There's a louder splash coming from the water again; and this time, a quick, initially uninterested glance turns to be an overwhelming shock. You both watch, stunned, how two blue water dragons repetitively jump up and down the surface of the lake, clearly playing with each other and having fun, oblivious to the two of you.

You stare at Rex in shock.

"Are those... Did we... Are we..." you can't seem to form the words, too overwhelmed and nervous about the possible implications of this.

Rex stares back at the small creatures.

"If we were... We should be able to call them towards us, right?" He cautiously asks.

You nod, heart pounding. The two water dragons stop playing and hover over the surface of the lake, as if suddenly realising they were being watched and looking back at you curiously.

You take a deep, centering breath and close your eyes; focusing on trying to conect with any of them. To tug at some sort of invisible connection.

You gasp at the feeling of something wet and slippery pressing against the skin of your neck; opening your eyes in wonder, staring at the almost magical female water dragon that is nuzzling against you and chirping happily.

"T-try it" you tell Rex, hands shaking to caress the legendary creature, the animal playfully nipping at your fingertips.

Rex imitates you; closing his eyes and trying to find his own connection with the other water dragon. He frowns, and nothing happens at first; but then, the creature –darker in colour but with also more white streaks in it's tail– shyly aproaches him and spins around his forearm, then moving to hover in front of him.

Rex looks at his dragon in awe and then turns towards you.

"We're soulmates" he voices, love and wonder shining in his golden eyes.

You smile and close the distance to kiss him.

"I guess that explains why I have always felt drawn to you. Yes, we are".

Rex swallows your happy chuckles and you smile against his lips. The two water dragons play around your entwinned shape, chirping happily.

THE END.

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Author note:

I love Rex so much godddddd...

Ps. With this one we only have one more prompt left for the 100blueceleb. It's a short story of a demon!echo / angel!ofc ; I have already planned it through and am in the process of writing it. It's gonna be a blast, mark my words! I'm so excited to share it with y'all. Stay tunned!

Xx, Blue.

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