#I don’t have a sweet tooth but I’ll make you a tower more of those

[wwrenwrites]

INTRODUCING BATMAN’S ELDEST SONS:

Dick Grayson: The pretty boy wonder

Jason Todd:

[eudaimonia83]

For @elucienweekofficial 2023: sunshine prompt. (Could also fit the courtiers prompt.)

Title: OVER & UNDER

Word Count: 4890

Content Descriptors: tooth rotting fluff. SFW. No triggers, unless I missed something major…if so, please point it out to me and I’ll add it.

Summary: Elain, now living in the Day Court, is learning some symbolic braids for Lucien’s hair. I’m not great at one-shots 🫣 but I figured I’d try, bc these sweet bbys deserve some joy…even from yours truly, an anointed Duchess of Misery and Angst.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48505399

“Repeat after me: Solaris, Aeolish, Haelicon.”

Elain dutifully repeated the names, watching Corinda, Helion’s Chancellor of Rhodes, as she pulled out a copy of the list of tribes who had requested an audience with the High Lord. Or, failing that, the Sun Prince.

“Now tell me what you’d need to know about any of those, in a meeting.” Corinda examined her over the edge of the paper.

Elain recited, thinking, trying to balance her racing thoughts with the intricate movements she had to make with her hands. These damn braids…would they never behave…?

She realized she’d fallen silent and resumed her lesson. “The largest tribes of the shore and the sea, who possess wind magic that assists them in sailing and fishing.” She wound hair around her left hand, trying to complete the first few inches of the braid, which needed to adhere more closely to the scalp than the lower parts, if it was to serve to keep loose hair out of the eyes, or to act as an anchor for a hair piece. But the strands got caught around her little finger and anchored too loosely in the braid. She was tempted to curse, but Corinda, ever sharp and experienced and unfailingly courteous, would never stand for it.

“Yes.” Corinda’s mellifluous voice inflected up at the end, and Elain knew her answer to be incomplete. “But what will they likely ask for in an audience?”

Elain squinted and focused hard on the fingers of her right hand, where she held the comb that was creating the sections for the box braids. “Wider…access. For fishing rights. And docking privileges in ports and harbor islands.”

“Yes, and who would oppose them in such a request?”

“The harbor and quarter masters.” Elain thought of the reticent, dismissive pair they had just met with to discuss fees and safety concerns at the docks.

“Just so.” Corinda turned to select another dossier and frowned as it wasn’t the one she was searching for. “The harbor fae will not readily relinquish their access to the small islands, as they are a windfall in lightening fees for the larger ships. Not without a fee.”

“And the shore tribes don’t have that revenue,” Elain continued. “Not yet, anyway. Not unless they can also access the lightening docks at the outer harbors and ports.” The comb spun and dropped with a clatter to the tile floor as she tried to draw it toward the back of the section she’d created. She hissed in anger.

With a husky laugh, Corinda put down her dossier of commerce updates from the harbor, picked up the errant comb, and gave it back to her. “Hold the hair looser in your left hand, Princess. Then you can create a straight line more easily; let the strands escape as the comb guides them.”

They had been in the Solarium for hours now, struggling with horsehair and mannequins after the interminable meeting with the harbor fae. The rays were getting long over the Western Sea, and the Sun Tower’s bright beams could now be seen over the sun itself, sweeping gently across the darkening harbor. Elain had had dinner plans, but she’d canceled them in a burst of industriousness a few hours ago, and now she was regretting it, awash in frustration. Corinda watched her for a moment, then stood and with measured, precise gestures, lit tiny glowing lights in the hanging lamps. They created no heat but were still bright enough to hurt the eyes, when not concealed in their brass shades. But under Corinda’s gentle touch, the room flooded with a golden glow.

“How does anyone learn to do this?” Elain gritted between clenched teeth, carving against the rigid marble skull, decorated with a full head of sweeping horsehair after it was repurposed from a crumbling statue — all for her to practice this task. This thing that she so badly wanted to be good at. This thing she was beginning to fear she’d never master.

Corinda approached, observed for a moment, and nodded approvingly; then applied her strong, practiced fingers over Elain’s long and awkward ones. “It is only practice, Princess. Practice, and experience. It is kind of you to wish to learn this.”

“But I haven’t really learned it. And with all the other things you have to do? How did you master it?” Elain said, hearing the petulance in her voice and hating it. She sounded like a disappointed child.

Corinda smiled. “I worked at it for centuries. And be fair to yourself, for you have learned, Princess. Your braids are smooth now, even if your sections need work. And you don’t need the seed pod oil to make them shine now. To say nothing of the deference you command in meetings now.” She gathered up her papers and slid them in orderly rows into her leather pouch. Elain was constantly jealous of the chancellor’s organization; her calm, and the level of trust she inspired. Not only from Helion and the aristocrats who relied on her expertise, but the merchants and fae who had faith that she would mediate fairly on their behalf.

“But the braids — they mean things.” Elain twisted the strands she had separated the horsehair into, stroking them into three pieces — then adding them into an additional lock of horsehair for a thicker braid. She had braided her own hair many times, and even her sisters’ on occasion, but never with the damned extensions that got hopelessly tangled, and never in the complex geometric patterns that acted as an anchor for the coronet of the Day Court. She bit her lip, concentrating hard, and let out a frustrated sigh. “And I just want them to mean the right things. For anyone looking closely.”

Corinda laughed. “Yes, Princess, they mean things,” she said, her voice going softer, falling into incantation, intonation. “Long ago the world was built of rage and chaos, and we Fae had to find places we could hear the music of the world. We were wild ourselves, after all, and like all the creatures, looking for safety. And for our Solaris folk — the tribe of my ancestors — following the sun and the open blue of the sky, the solution was to plan routes through the darkness.” Her hand steadied Elain’s, pointing to a forgotten skein. Elain nodded and pulled it back in, the braid twisting naturally around the central fourth strand to create a spiral. Corinda pointed again, and Elain wound the skeins of hair together again. “The spiral represents the route up, and out. A stable way to navigate the chaos. We sailed, mile by perilous mile, into the light; but we never forget our time in the dark…or how easily we could slip backward into it.” She picked up the wire of a coronet, placing it on top of the braids Elain had painstakingly created, and winding each braid around the base to hold it steady. “And we brought the great treasures of Day with us; because beautiful things are a gestalt, a thing greater than the sum of its parts. They mean we made something important in our time on the earth. That’s our responsibility; to make things, and people, connect. Despite the differences.”

Elain was quiet, listening. She had heard it many times, and yet it never ceased to make her calm. To think of how the past affected the future, and the present lived in the fulcrum. How Lucien, in his own way, had lived that connection; forging upward out of chaos and darkness, scraping by on courage and hope, building something beautiful against all odds. The bond rolled against her ribs as she thought of him, purring like a contented kitten. That russet hair, the color so rich it was almost ruby; the bronze skin, aglow with the sunfire that was banked inside him; the gold eye that whizzed faster as his interest piqued and his mind sped to accommodate new information; the gleaming, mischievous smile, rarer these days as the responsibility of his position weighed on him, but all the sweeter for that. Thinking of him, how she wanted him to look on the day of the celebration, when he was presented to his people, she picked up the comb and leaned forward again, making little sections of hair under the golden light, as Corinda murmured encouragement and corrected her every now and then, twisting them and molding them into shapes that could make her Sun Prince unique. To show the Day Court — and all the other courts too, she thought with grim satisfaction — how it might be different. A new kind of High Lord with a new agenda. Step by step, she thought, twisting the hair around her fingers, determination writ large across her delicate features. Into the light.

“Are you going to the Common Market tonight?” Corinda asked.

Elain nodded.

“Be listening,” she said. “Their reactions to your rule will live in their talk, and in their tone. Some will not like our every choice, but if they see it as fair, you have won the day.” She closed her leather pouch with a snap and walked to the door. “And be thinking of what we will need to tell the Sun Prince on his return.”

————————

The shadows were long and blue in the alcoves, under the awnings, and the sound of the sea in the background was murmuring; calming, with an occasional creak and splash as a rope thudded against a dock or a sail was wound up to rest against a mast. It was a beautiful evening, cool and calm, and the white hulls of the boats against the dark bulk of the rocky harbor would be the final sight as the night sank over Rhodes. And here she was, with a purpose, with intelligence to gain, but only missing Lucien. Her heart twisted with longing for him. He’d been gone for almost a month now, up to the hill country, far from the city to avoid any danger from practicing with his sunfire; he’d gotten so much better at it, too, she reflected, remembering how only a few weeks ago it had rushed out of him so intensely that he’d kept the entire county at full daylight for almost two days. Helion had had to shield the city from the relentless sunlight, and announce to the public that the Sun Prince was learning to wield his emerging powers. Yesterday evening, as Elain had walked through the Common Market at the base of the city, breathing in the rich scent of the bougainvillea and the cinnamon trees, she had overheard many people talk about the constant glow to the East, which had faded to a dim arc over the horizon. The prince is learning fast, they’d said, chuckling. When Lord Helion acquired his full powers we were under constant noon sunlight for a week.

This prince is powerful, one old merchant had said. He holds back the sunset even before he is the High Lord.

May he hold back the darkness and danger as well, another had said, making the circular sign for safety over his heart as he handed Elain one of her favorite pastries, crusty with sugar and crackling crisp, the scent of fresh-ground coriander and cinnamon wafting up. She licked the lingering sweetness off her fingers, studying the heliotrope flowers that wound up the side of the pale walls of the Citadel. In their flowering season, the plants absorbed light from the relentless Day sun, and stayed softly glowing in the evening, continuing to attract their pollinators for a few extra hours into the night. Was it her imagination or were they brighter than they had been before? Perhaps the brightness was an indicator they were almost done flowering.

She climbed the steps to the Western Gate, where the guard let her in with a bob of his head and a muttered “good evening.” She went out frequently enough that the guards had stopped insisting on accompanying her long ago; most times, as she had in Velaris, she left through the servants’ entrances with her scarf draped around her head, but now she also kept a clever little glamour she’d learned from Helion over her face, and no one not looking closely would ever have recognized the Sun Princess wandering in the massive Common Market like a housewife. Elain loved the anonymity of it all, and how much she’d been able to explore. For the first time in her life, it felt like freedom. She’d wandered the winding streets, familiarized herself with the pier and the ships that went out on day journeys to fish or trawl, eaten lunch in the shadow of the Sun Tower. She’d made friends with the dairy merchants and the bakers, who now saved her her favorite items and called her over for spirited bargaining, which had embarrassed Elain until she realized it was an elaborate game to which all were privy. And so much more besides.

She’d eaten oysters fresh from the bay with salt and lemon, the acid stinging her tongue and the flavor of the ocean bursting in her mouth…bought twisted paper packets of spices more precious than gold whose scent scorched her nostrils…stained her hands in the buckets of rich indigo and violet dyes…and once been gifted a white silk scarf of a weave so fine it was almost transparent, edged with golden threads. The merchant, a female with faceted, jewel-like eyes and skin of glimmering gold, had nodded at her with odd familiarity and refused payment.

She’d seen barefoot urchins with wings of obsidian black fluttering around pelting each other with refuse, smelters hammering at copper pots and urns, the sick and destitute clustering around the hospitals, distinguished old ladies hard at work on the great looms making the lush textiles that Rhodes was famous for, even lewd street performers impersonating her and Helion and Lucien. Elain had been shocked at first, and had told everyone about the little pantomime with cheeks burning; but Helion had only roared with laughter over it all. Corinda had chuckled and said, “The people may mock you on occasion, Princess, but their hearts are with you. Else you’d see much more violent and angry displays, instead of just tasteless comedies.”

Elain pulled back her hood as she passed under the gate, the white limestone gleaming in the last of the light, and with a smoothing motion over her face, removed the glamour. Her curls fell from the hood and she briefly shook them in the breeze, relishing the touch of the wind against her neck…and then a familiar twinge against her ribs. She opened her eyes just as a bright light spilled from a room on the second floor, doors flung wide to the inner courtyard. Her room.

She knew instantly what it meant, and it sped her steps into a frenzy, all tiredness forgotten, breaking into a run up the stone stairs. She raced along the wide hallway with its generous arches and fluttering curtains and the ribboning bougainvillea vines she had braided with jasmine and coaxed into bloom. Skidding to a stop, she burst through the door into her room, alight with a globe of drifting sunfire so bright it hurt her eyes — and as she threw up her hand to shade her face, arms caught her around her waist, and pulled her in. To him. To his solid, lean frame, warm and welcoming. To his scent, pomegranate and whiskey, ribboned sweet with her own honey and jasmine, just as overpowering to her senses as ever he was.

I missed you, was all she could think as he kissed her, her relief and joy rendering her close to senseless, his lips firm against hers, hands gentle on her neck and waist. Gods, I felt your absence like my own heart was gone from my body. Her arms circled his neck and crushed him to her, and he laughed, lifting her up and spinning her around. The little lock in her heart that shut tight when he had to be away opened with a snap, flooding her chest with warmth, adding fierce desire to her kiss. He broke away after a moment to catch his breath, and she leaned in, greedy for him, her teeth snagging his lower lip.

“Wait. Look,” he whispered, and nodded toward the globe of light bathing them both in radiance. With one hand open, he dimmed it so the shadows lengthened, and his hand glowed as he pulled the sunfire back into his flesh in an incandescent stream, then banked it into a golden gleam that lit his hand enough that she could see the bones and veins inside it.

“You…you can control it,” she whispered, and tucked her face against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. Last she’d seen him, nearly a month ago, he could call it up but could not pull it back, only hold on to it with arms extended, waiting for his control to rupture before rays shot out in every direction. He was so calm now. Gods, she loved seeing him like this. Expert. Finessed. Magnificent.

He made a noise of dissent and kissed her hair. “I can control it better,” he said. “Not entirely. It’s gotten away from me many times. But it…answers to me more easily now. Like I have a dragon on a leash, and sometimes it eats from my hand.”

“What happens when it gets away?” she asked, tangling her fingers with his, gazing at the pulsing light that beat inside his nail beds.

He cast his eyes down, shamefaced. “I dried up a river by accident…and blasted a field of sunflowers to ash. At first I wondered if that was partially the Autumn fire, but Helion said no, the sunfire burns brighter and is more likely to scorch.”

“But you can dim it and brighten it now, according to your will?”

“Most times, yes,” he said. His arms tightened around her. “As soon as I could do that, I knew it’d be safe to come see you…to tell you how much I missed you, and how often I thought of you…”

“Don’t tell me,” she interrupted, threading her fingers into his hair. “Show me.”

He needed no further invitation to extinguish the remaining glow, plunging them into darkness and surrendering to the bond, which was its own dragon on a leash between them, roaring with a deep and insatiable need.

And now it would feast.

————————

Hours later, the sky was pale with the coming dawn. Elain awoke slowly, surfacing as if through deep water, limbs languid and wound in the sheets. She turned over to her side to face Lucien, who was still fast asleep on his stomach, arm splayed toward her. She smiled at him fondly, reaching out to push back the coil of hair that had fallen across his face and fluttered in the quiet breath from his nose and mouth. He grunted and buried his face in the pillow, and she almost laughed aloud; there were times when she felt she could see how he had been as a child or a youth, groggy in the morning and wild at night.

“Wake up,” she whispered, and ran her finger down the back of his neck.

“Mmmfff.”

She turned her finger slightly so her fingernail sliced into the groove of his spine, right between the angle of his shoulder blades. She couldn’t suppress a giggle when she saw goosebumps bubble along the skin of his bare back. “Wake up, prince of Day.”

He huffed a gusty sigh that lifted his back muscles up, and her mouth went dry as sand at the sight of his bronze skin, bare in the sparse light. She watched little patches of golden light crackling along his ribs as he breathed. “You’re going to miss the sunrise…”

His arm shot out and scooped around her waist, and she went down with a squeal as he rolled, tunneling into the sheets with her, holding her flush against him. “This is a better view,” he whispered. “Brighter than the eastern sun on the horizon.”

Overcome, she tilted her head towards him, pushing against him. Her face fit right into where his neck and shoulder met; he let out an undignified squawk as she scraped her teeth there, catching some of his skin between her incisors. “Stop, or I can’t be blamed for what I do next,” he laughed.

“You think I fear you?”

“You should. I’ve never known you to not succumb to this…” he wiggled his fingers firmly against her abdomen and she doubled up, breathless with giggles.

“Stop, Lucien, stop!” He did, brushing a kiss to her chest; she heaved with laughter. “I just…you’re such a scoundrel, and a mess.”

“Funny, Helion says the same thing,” he groaned, flopping sideways. “And after that river dried up I thought the same thing too.”

She kissed the notch of his collarbone. “My poor Sun Prince. I wasn’t trying to shame you, really; I only meant your hair was a mess, not you yourself.”

“My hair?”

“You haven’t braided it in weeks, clearly,” she said, combing her fingers through it until she hit a snarl, then picked at the tangle with her nails. “Let me?”

He hesitated. “It takes a while,” he said finally. “The braids I usually wear aren’t just the simple ones.”

“I know,” she said, and a grin crept onto her face. “I’ve been practicing.”

“You have?” His eyes went round with surprise. “When have you had time for that?”

“Corinda was teaching me in between meetings. Sometimes as we reviewed for audiences with the merchants and the guilds. It was useful to help keep my statistics and facts and figures straight. While you were taming a few sunbeams, I’ve learned to keep my hands and my mind busy at the same time, you see,” she teased. “And now I just can’t let you look scruffy.”

“I thought you liked me scruffy.”

She relented. “I do. But…maybe I just want that Lucien to be my Lucien. Outside of here you’re the Sun Prince. And you’re changing things, and the people can feel it, and they hope to be able to trust you. I want them to see you that way. Only here…” she tilted her head and nuzzled his throat gently. “Only here will you be all unraveled, and messy, and mine. It’s the only way I can bear to share you. And so I feel it’s only fair that I should help present you to the court.”

He swallowed, and his eye went bright; even the gold one got a bit of extra sparkle. He released her and sat up, shaking his head until the red locks stood out from his head like a mane. “Then show me what you’ve learned, Blossom.”

She pushed up onto her elbows, excitement sparking through her. “Truly?”

“I can’t wait to see your new talents,” he said, and stood up, reaching out for her hands to pull her from the bed. “And to hear all the business of Rhodes as well.”

She seized her white robe from the foot of the bed and swung it around herself, already padding eagerly across the tile on her bare feet to the wardrobe, in search of her comb and the seed pod oil to keep the hair sections neat. Lucien pulled on his breeches, discarded on the floor since last night, and watched her with amused affection as she bustled around setting things up. Finally she took a seat on an overstuffed ottoman, and motioned for him to sit in front of her, tossing a cushion onto the floor. He obligingly sat before her, arms draped over her knees, and leaned back as her hands plunged into his hair, combing through it, smoothing his scalp, dividing the bright russet locks into pieces.

He hummed contentedly, deep in his chest, as the comb sectioned the hair at the front of his head. “How have the meetings with Corinda gone?”

“Fairly well,” she said, her brows pinching in concentration as she began twirling the hair and flipping the skeins over and under, over and under. “The guild of the Solaris fishermen wants fishing rights in the bay, but Corinda says they would settle for shared waters between us and the Western Islands as long as…” she trailed off.

“As long as what?…ouch.” He turned his head to look at her and she swatted him on the ear as she tightened the braid she was working on.

“Don’t move your head,” she said sharply. “As long as their boats can move in and out of Summer Court harbors.”

“That would involve a treaty with Tarquin and spells to make the maritime border passable,” Lucien murmured. Her hands on his head made his eyelids heavy.

“Yes,” she said, crisply, twisting the braid and securing the end before picking the comb up and starting the next one. “And their catch migrates seasonally through the oceans without difficulty, so if the minnows can manage it, and the summer silverfish, why not you?” She dropped a kiss atop his head. “You are the son of the spellcleaver.”

“Hm.” He seemed at a loss for words. “Would that not overstep my authority?”

She shrugged. “If it does, then you can allow Helion to negotiate it as he sees fit. And you will still have the harbor and shore fae’s respect for bringing their concerns to the highest audience.”

He quieted as he thought about it. She teased three skeins of hair from the other side of his head and guided them back over the loose hair. “These braids mean things, you know.”

“Yes,” he said. “In Autumn they refer to your battle prowess. And your rank.”

“I mean here, in Day,” she said. “They represent triumph over adversity. Corinda’s told me some things; I don’t know all of them. But there’s a legend of Solaris people escaping from a great darkness across the sea, where they had come from a garden of plenty who had fallen under the shadow. They had to leave or risk enslavement. So they came east toward the rising sun. They had to fight all manner of monsters for their freedom; and then leave with nothing but ropes and sailcloth and a little food and water.” She pulled the strands into a spiral. “They brought the crown with them — representing sunbeams reaching toward them. And settled in a new place. But they stayed by the sea. To build their lives where they could see where they came from and where they were going.”

She fitted the crown on the top of his head, and wound the braids around it, anchoring it securely in place. Then she pulled another, smaller strand in front of his ear and began to braid that, looser than the top braids. “Your Autumn braids at the sides,” she said softly. “And your Day crown on top. A prince who crosses borders and courts, who lived with the people no one else cares about. You know where you come from. And where you’re going.”

He went very still. Barely breathing. She tightened the last braid and tied it with the bright blue leather band he favored.

“Look at you,” she said, and her hands slid down to his shoulders. “My prince. Of sunshine and fire.”

He sat up straighter, until she handed him a mirror. “The braids could be better,” she said. “I’m working on it. But I’ll have it perfected before the presentation ceremony.”

He stared at himself in the mirror. In the crown. He’d never worn it before, and on his head, it seemed to stand taller, shine brighter, as if the gold soaked up his sunfire and stretched upward toward the source of the light itself. The gold spikes shot up above the braids, which were gleaming and, despite her self-deprecation, only slightly crooked. He was only a chiton and a cloth-of-gold scarf away from the full symbolic costume of the heir. She knew all the moments from before were weighing on him from the way the bond ached in her chest.

“I love you,” she said, hoping it was what he needed to hear, because it was the truth, in all its weight and simplicity. “I’m so proud of you.”

He grasped her hand and squeezed it; then angled the mirror to catch her face above his. “I could not be prouder of you. I couldn’t do any of this without you.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. “Do you know how much I love you? What you mean to me, Elain?”

She bent forward, her bronze-gold curls mingling with the remaining loose red locks around his shoulders.

“Yes,” she said, her smile brighter than the dawn. “I’m your new hairdresser.”

He burst out into a wet laugh. “I’m afraid it will only add to your burdens, my love.”

“I swore to bear them with you,” she said. He rose and pulled her to stand, the comb and the mirror dropping forgotten to the floor. “I meant it.”

His only answer was to wrap his arms around her again, as the first rays of the sun broke the horizon and struck the gold cupola atop the Sun Tower.

[wardenred]

Flufftober 11: Sweet Tooth

Another flashback about Miq and Elair from Champagne Problems being sweet together.

“What is this?” Elair asked weakly, his eyes fixed on the outrageous confectionary creation that dominated Miq’s desk. It could be, he supposed, called a cake, if one was seriously into underestimation. He was more inclined to call it a baked tower.

There were four tiers to it, the bottom one made of spongy, syrup-soaked biscuit the color of rust. If he squinted, he saw bits of crushed berries peeking out of the pastry’s pores. Next came a thick layer of airy meringue, rough with handfuls of nuts that contrasted with the gentle swirls of colorful, creamy frosting. The third level, as far as Elair could tell, was mostly some sort of soft whipped cheese, perhaps with crumbled cookies mixed in, and it alone looked like the most divinely delicious thing he’d ever witnessed. At the very top, perched like a regal crown, lay a spiky ball of hard-baked dough that was likely a lot more brittle than it looked and, if he were to make a wild guess, probably contained a lot of filling. The entire arrangement was adorned in intricately crafted flowers that combined sugarwork and real petals dusted with a fine sheen of edible gold.

Elair couldn’t fathom how much effort and skill went into constructing the entire thing. Or how much money.

“You said you were too tired to go out tonight,” Miqualis explained, coming up to pull him into a loose hug from behind. “And I know you always crave something sweet when you’re tired, so I wrote to my family’s chef this morning and asked them to come up with something.”

“But... what’s the occasion?” Elair quickly ran all possible dates through his mind. It was ages until his birthday. There were no successful exams or school projects to celebrate in the middle of the trimester. They didn’t have an anniversary, unless Miqualis attributed some extra special meaning to “eight months, two weeks, and three or four days.”

He felt Miq’s shrug against his back. “You’re too tired to go out and you have a sweet tooth. Isn’t that enough?”

“But. This.” Elair gestured helplessly at the egregious dessert in front of him. “You could have just ordered an apricot pie from the tavern down the street. Or a bar of chocolate.”

“Yes, but you have apricot pie and chocolate bars all the time.”

“Only because you keep geting them for me!”

“Well,” Miq said sensibly, “that’s why I’ve decided to shake things up.” There was a hint of vulnerability in his voice when he added, “Do you... not like it?”

Elair exhaled slowly through his nose. This is why this isn’t going to last, he reminded himself. Because he does stuff like this, as if it is totally normal, and I’m—me.

I’m just me, and I can’t even let him know.

“It’s just too much,” he said. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Why not, though? Listen, the cooks at the estate are bored. My father and sister are away on some boring business trip, and my mother is attending her fourth cousin’s wedding. They’re lonely and lost. I just found an excuse to give them a sense of purpose! And to make you smile, hopefully. Are you smiling?”

“I’m somber as can be,” Elair said, but it was really hard not to grin when he turned his head and met Miq’s eyes. “Thank you. You’re very thoughtful, especially to the cooks. Do you even have a knife in your room, to cut this monstrosity up?”

He was going about this all wrong, wasn’t he? He was supposed to be saying something different, curtailing all those ironic responses that he always fell back on when he was flustered. He was probably hurting Miq’s feelings, he was—

Miqualis grinned back at Elair and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Of course I do. I’m taking Rituals and Sacrifices this year, remember?”

“Oh the gods. Please don’t tell me you’re going to cut the cake with the same blade you used on some poor dead rabbit fetus.”

“It was actually a mummified bullfrog, and I know three different purifying spells.”

“You know what? I’ll just practice conjuration.”

This couldn’t last. Not forever. Not in any conceivable version of the future.

Then again... Elair was literally here to learn how to make impossible things true.

[alicanta77]

NCT Dream Reaction: You getting your wisdom teeth removed

Mark:

underestimates you majorly

thinks to himself that he got this, i mean he can handle the dreamies, and there is no way you could be more chaotic than them right?

but

he kind of forgets that he actually has absolutely no control over the dreamies

and has a horrible realisation when you prove to be MUCH more chaotic than them

getting you into the car was one of the hardest things mark swears he has ever had to do

literally, johnny had driven him and it took johnny literally lifted you up and placing you in the back seat

mark then watched as you began to slap his arms and ask him how he knew superman

as confused and worried for you he is, he can’t help laughing slightly

cause you just look so cute with your big cheeks and wide eyes while you mutter about your boyfriend being friends with superman

mark literally just wants to get you back to yours but has no idea how you’re going to act when you get there

wishes you would fall asleep but you don’t

and when you get back you spend the time asking mark to bring superman back and almost crying when mark said no

but he refuses to leave you to someone else for a second because you’re his baby and he’s going to look after you no matter how difficult you are

Renjun:

he was with you for a few hours and in those hours renjun aged about 50 years

in about five minutes he’s already done

you pinch his cheeks as soon as he arrives and just stare at him

you then proceed to gently cup his face and whisper

“so precious”

and renjun turns to the nurse like “bitch wtf have you done to my y/n?”

and then he realises you’re essentially high as a kite right now and have no idea what you’re doing

asks the nurse what to do and sets his goal as getting you rested

it took renjun over three hours to get you in the car, back home and into bed

something that normally takes 20 minutes max

but you had to stop because the music wasn’t right and you couldn’t be in a moving car with the wrong music

and because your face was puffed up and you couldn’t remember why and you thought you were dying

you weren’t but renjun was beginning to think he was

and a lot of other reason that renjun has blocked out of his memory

just stares at you at the end of the day while you’re sleeping whispering

“how are you this cute but that annoying? you’re lucky i love you”

but he knows, no matter how annoying you are, you’re always going to be his favourite

Jeno:

basically finds himself trying to stop you from doing EVERYTHING you want to

mainly because everything you want to do will get you hurt

and then has to deal with you crying every time he says no to you climbing the eiffel tower

“WHY NOT THOUGH???”

“because we’re in korea... and that’s in france...”

ends up with you in tears on him complaining about how the eiffel tower must be lonely because you can’t go and visit it

and he finds himself promising to take you one day

he has never felt as strong of a feeling of relief as he did when you finally started to become tired

this boy has patience for days and he used ALL of it with you

like you move closer to him and just plop down on his shoulder

first he’s worried you’ve passed out or something

but when he realises you’re sleeping jeno swears he could have cried in that moment he was so happy

but as he watches you sleep he can’t help but place a soft kiss on your forehead

stares at you with MASSIVE heart eyes and just admits that he’s whipped as hell

but he’s also exhausted as hell and falls asleep on the sofa immediately after you

Hyuck:

initially he vibed with this

found it the funniest thing on the planet like

entertained all your screaming by screaming back and probably encouraged you to do every stupid idea that came to your mind plus he definitely recorded a lot of it

“i’m gonna sit on the roof of the car on the way home...”

“ok baby you do that”

but when he watches you actually attempting to climb onto the roof he panics and pulls you back down

“but you said i could sit there...” *you giving him the puppy dog eyes”

and he is NOT PREPARED for you to start crying

runs up to you immediately and wipes them away while asking you if you’ll get in the car

relieved af when you say yes

and then freaks out again when you start crying halfway back because there’s a spot on the window that looks different to yesterday

and starts to realise why doyoung was laughing at his when he mentioned this was happening

he literally bangs his head on the wheel out of frustration

“well i’ve learnt today that i am NOT cut out to be a parent”

and yet he will still look after you for as long as you need him to

Jaemin:

ok *cracks knuckles*

the motherly instincts kick in

he thinks he’s got this in the bag

just give you cuddles and reassurance and all should be fine

he learns pretty quickly that that is NOT the case

and adapts cause he’s superhuman when it comes to looking after you

does literally everything you ask

you want some fruit

nana’s got it

you want a hug

nana’s got it

you get the picture

the only thing that really throws jaemin is when you cry for no reason

like how is he supposed to comfort you when you think the planet pluto is lonely because it was shunned and cast out for being too small

tries to reassure you but when you ask how he knows jaemin almost just gives up and says he doesn’t

but he uses all his self control and stays calm, gently stroking your head and saying it’s okay

almost can’t believe his luck when he feels you begin to fall asleep

refuses to move you in case you wake up, so instead just keeps giving you kisses and whispering sweet nothings into your ear

Chenle:

is not prepared at all

goes to pick you up from your appointment and bring you back to his so he can look after you

yet was not expecting you to literally scream at him when he walked in the door

“CHENLE!!! LOOK NURSE IT’S MY BOYFRIEND! ISN’T HE PRETTY?”

ok yes that makes him smile but he’s also incredibly embarrassed

tries to get you out of there as soon as possible

practically drags you towards the car and puts you in

gets worried when you’re staring back at the dentist’s office because he’s starting to panic that he’s forgotten something

but you’re silent so he keeps going

then suddenly

“CHENLE!!!!” *you scream* *chenle almost crashes the car*

“what are you okay?!?!”

“I LEFT IT BEHIND!!! MY TOOTH I LEFT IT BEHIND!!”

he tries telling you that you were meant to but you keep crying

“i’ll buy you a new one!” at this point chenle would buy you anything to make you stop talking

looks over and sees you staring at him happily and his heart melts

nah he knows he would buy you anything cause he’s whipped for you

Jisung:

yeah he calls for help

he thought he would be fine like he could handle whatever it was

but when he watched you pick a banana and then burst into tears because it wasn’t the one you wanted

he knew he would need backup

so he calls jaemin and renjun over

but they’re busy at work so he’s alone

he kind of just gently takes the bananas out of your hand and tries to pick he “right” one for you

and then finds himself with you snuggling up to him murmuring about how he knows you too well and he always gets it right

then you grab the banana and begin to dance around happily and he doesn’t know if he should put music on and join you or stop you

he just has no idea what the best way of handling this is

so he just goes with his instinct and makes it up as he goes along

his main priority is making sure you don’t hurt yourself

so he puts anything he thinks could be dangerous on the highest shelf

and just watches you constantly

is basically very tense and in a constant state of panic the whole time

but by the next day

he promises to NEVER take your normal calmer self for granted again

[allyouneedisbuck]

Tee’s Summer Reads 🖤

hi all! as summer comes to a close and classes start back up again, i wanted to come on here and share some pieces i read over break that i just loved.

as always, heed to any and all warnings each creator has put in place. eighteen plus spaces deserve respect and you are urged to show them it.

— ➶ —

Bucky Barnes

i wished one the moon for you by @sunmoonandbucky • “After losing Bucky, you were devastated. So when Howard Stark asks for volunteers for an experiment, you're the first in line.” -> 40s buck & present bucky? love that lasts through time? love it

the shot heard round the tower & unwarranted weakness by @pellucid-constellations • “you just want to know if bucky has feelings for you. bucky just wants you to be okay.” -> these two pieces can be read separately, but i highly suggest reading them both because bucky is written so well and they made me feel warm all over. 

see the world the way you do by @vanderlustwords • “you start to see color when you meet your soulmate. bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing.” -> there are So many lines in this that just... sit with you. i felt so much reading this. that tight feeling in your chest, pure happiness, anger... i just absolutely loved this. 

a little old fashioned by @gogolucky13 • “bucky is a bit subtle in telling you he likes you.”-> behold...sweet, shy comfort fic bucky. i go back and read this when i’m sad. 

he’s a good friend by @markandlexies • “reader is tired of watching bucky go on dates with leah and flirt with sarah.” -> give me all the oblivious, pining friends to lovers. just incredible writing and a truly lovely piece. 

tap by @houseravenclaws •  “bucky never talked much, he fell in love anyway.” -> you KNOW i already love sarah’s writing, it was on my last list. HERE’S MORE! this fic tore me apart in the best way and i still think about it all the time. it has become a go to. 

all the good things by @/houseravenclaws • “bucky’s been a little more than happy recently. sam thinks it has something to do with the pretty girl on the team.” -> need i say more? i needn’t say more. 

i love you, you idiot by @chrisevansjellybeans • “we’re best friends but won’t say we’re in love trope.” -> this fic made my heart sore. i love when writers have the ability to show love through the smallest of details and this fic did that so well. 

the things you’ve done by @divine-mistake • “what if the world ended tomorrow and all he did was spend his last day with you thinking about how you never hold his metal hand and you never walk on his left side and you constantly reach for his right arm?” -> OHHHHHHHHH MAN oh man this fic left me in shambles. absolute shambles and gave me a big, bright smile. insecure!bucky just does something to me. bucky is written perfectly in this. 

cornerstone by @agentofbarnes • this is a piece of zee’s (incredible) barnes’ au where bucky and reader (babydoll) are married with kids. -> i love the entire barnes’ au, but this piece honestly meant so much to me??? seeing bucky as an incredibly loving and open father just makes me so happy. 

leather jacket full of cats by @bucksfucks • “bucky brings home kittens.” -> nora doesn’t write fluff, but when she does it comes out absolutely incredible???? bucky and kittens?? PLEASE this made so happy (hi keep an eye out for more of nora’s work in the nsfw section) 

bulova by @babycap • “in the five years between the two snaps that changed it all, life had moved on, as life is want to do. In the aftermath of that final battle, you discover that time waited for no one (least of all you), and those you loved marched forward into it without you. Sam suggests you volunteer at the local retirement community to keep you busy, keep your mind from lingering on what—and who—you lost. In giving back, you find that time can be just as generous as it is cruel.” -> this is a babycap (dev my love) fan account. i have never read such beautiful words & i am always so stunned by the amazing works that dev puts out. i get so excited to read them. 

sunset by @belladonnabarnes • “bucky meets a pretty girl and her little sister at the zoo.” -> how did you know it was my dream to meet bucky at the zoo jaye?????? ahhhhh i loved this fic so much, it was so incredibly sweet i had the dopiest smile on my face when reading it. 

crawl home to her by @wkemeup • “stranded without coms, alone, and bleeding out in the middle of a russian snow storm, bucky is content to let nature take its course. only you won’t seem to let him go.” -> this fic is a masterpiece. a genuine piece of art. i was on the edge of my seat reading it, hoping i could faster than possible just to find out if bucky made it.

suburbia by @/wkemeup • “posing as husband and wife, you and bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a hydra hacker. perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.” -> yeah this one HURT. in the best way, an absolute favorite. so so so good.

that was premonition, i think by @divine-mistake • “sometimes you wish you had never fallen in love with bucky. screw that ‘it’s better to have loved and lost’ bullshit. you wish you had never fallen in love with bucky barnes.” -> just so so good. i was speechless after reading.

Others

Sam Wilson

the summertime and butterflies all belong to your creation by @golden-bucky • “you’ve never been one for baseball, but sam wilson is enough to change your mind.” -> ok. listen. i HAVE always loved baseball and this fic made me dream of mr. sam wilson in a lil uniform and me cheering him on. it was so sweet and i just loved it. a dream come true.

scary love by @bvckysmoon • “the first ‘i love yous’ are always scary.” -> being in love with sam wilson? yes please! this fic is so tooth achingly sweet, i adore it.

that way by @belouva • “you don’t know what label to fall under anymore. were you his roommate, friend or his lover?” -> i love roommate! sam… the first two parts of this series are so good.

Steve Rogers

you don’t know by @/divine-mistake • “until her gaze falls on you and her lovesick puppy dog eyes morph into saucers, leaving her frozen in pure shock. that visage quickly melts away to reveal a smug smile, aimed right at you, and you know exactly what she’s thinking at this moment.” -> steve & plus-size reader! i actually teared up, this fic hit really close to home and is beautifully written.

Spencer Reid

the one where everyone finds out by @reidscanehand • “Spencer Reid is in love with Y/N, and she’s in love with him...only they don’t know it yet...and they might be are definitely going to be the very last to know. And since Spencer and Y/N happen to be surrounded by the best profilers in the country, the rest of the team is, of course, the first to piece together the romance. Little by little, bit by bit, the team solves the case of Spencer and Y/N.” -> i constantly go back and reread this fic… it means so much to me!

work wife by @differentkettleoffishalltogether • “Spencer can’t help but feel a little jealous when it seems like his best friend is interested in someone else.” -> best friend spencer & love confessions? yeah that’s what i like.

Aaron Hotchner

dream a little dream by @ssahotchswife • “Following an injury, the reader dreams about time spent with Aaron Hotchner and his son. She relives heartbreak about Aaron's relationship with Beth and the love she has for Jack. Aaron must come to terms with his feelings for the reader when she wakes.” -> aaron hotchner is my comfort man and this fic makes my chest ache

NSFW

just friends by @/bucksfucks • “you and chris are just friends, right?” -> chris evans please i’m free on saturday

forbidden fruit by @/bucksfucks • “you attempt to set your ex’s things on fire. bucky has a better idea.” -> dadsbestfriend!bucky has my heart and it’s literally because of nora’s writing

appointments by @buckycuddlebuddy • “bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.” -> ooooooooof i love this lil series so much

— ➶ —

these are all of my summer reads!!! i’ll definitely post another one after fall semester, this will most likely be a seasonal thing.

[fightxxmexxshiggy]

Don't fear the reaper

You love to go urban exploring and you make contact with a sexy supernatural being. I wrote this during KINKtober

Kirishima x female reader

TW:CHOKING, ROUGH SEX, BREEDING KINK, TALK OF DEATH.

Word count: 3420

Walking through abandoned buildings wasn't the safest hobby but it was definitely the most interesting one. You loved seeing all the graffiti, art and equipment from a bygone era. Sometimes you went with groups when the buildings seemed more dangerous but today you went alone. As you made your way through the abandoned factory for today's exploration you noticed all the dusty work stations, they were so eerie the way they were still set up like a worker had walked away for a break and just never returned. You were honestly tempted to film the place but seeing as you were doing this on a saturday and Halloween no less you decided not to push your luck. Walking carefully you avoided the broken glass and some more crumbling areas in the concrete floors. This space was so wide open it made you curious as to what had been made here in the factories prime.

 

As you headed towards the stairs that would take you to the second floor you heard a thump and a voice shout "fucking rats." From above you. Slowly you took the stairs one at a time and called out asking if anyone was there. After a bit of shuffling the voice spoke again." If you're a cop no one is here if you're an urban explorer I'm totally here and would love some company." Laughing you stepped onto the second floor landing coming face to face with a redheaded man with surprisingly sharp teeth. Smiling at you he came forward with a hand out for a handshake. Shaking his hand you noticed how large his hands were and how strong his grip was. Letting go you introduced yourself feeling a bit awkward now that you could see the face that went along with the voice. With a wide smile he crossed his arms over his toned chest, pulling his shirt taunt over the muscles. You really needed to get layed if a rando you just met on an exploring trip was getting you hot and bothered. You were so caught up in your own thoughts you almost didn't hear him introduce himself.

 

"The names Eijiro Kirishima and it's nice to meet a fellow explorer." You smiled at him before looking away to take in your new surroundings. The second floor was a bit dark and seemed even more dusty than the first if that was possible. Walking further into the area you saw a wooden plank laying in the middle of the mostly clear walkway. As you looked at it Kirishima chuckled and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "That plank was my fault. I was walking further in to explore some more and a rat jumped out at me." Laughing you told him you had heard his comments on the rat earlier from downstairs. It was quite interesting to see such a large man blush like a child at being caught cursing. Quickly Kirishima bent down and picked up the plank to place it back against the wall.

 

Damn the man had an amazing ass and those arms were so cut you were definitely sure your pussy had just clenched a little. This was bad, this poor man was just being friendly and here you were imagining what it would be like to have his forearm around your throat while he did dirty things to your body. Clearing your throat you asked if he'd like to join for the rest of the second floor exploration. "I'd love that pebble. I usually wander around alone but I'd never say no to having company as cute as you." Blushing you looked away as you started to walk with him going deeper into the dusty space. To your left there were tons of planks and glass panes leaning against the wall and to the right were mostly boxes stacked against the railings. You assumed this must have been office space for the owners and admins of the factory. As you walked a little ahead trying to see what was by the farthest walls you heard the floorboards groaning under your weight before they completely went out from under you.

 

You were lucky and grabbed a part of the floor that hadn't caved in as you fell. You yelled for help and saw Kirishima walk closer to where you were hanging. His face looked conflicted as he made no move to help or even to give you any reassurance. You realized he wasn't scared to fall in but you couldn't tell why he wouldn't help. Sighing defeatedly Kirishima walked over without an ounce of fear and crouched down to make eye contact with you. "I don't know what to do with you pebble, my job is to guide your soul to the afterlife but I really like you. You're so sweet and shy, much too good to be restarted just because the plan says so." What was he talking about? His job was to guide your soul? Why was he talking like he knew you? You just met him 30 minutes ago. Had you just become friends with a nut job who planned to watch you die?

 

"Ah I can see that you're confused, I mean I would be too." standing up to his full high he towered over you as you continued to stare up at him with a mix of confusion and fear. He placed back and forth for a moment before turning to you and smiling that big sharp toothed grin that moments before would have made your tummy do a little flip. If hanging half out of a hole in an abandoned building wasn't enough what happened next shocked you so much you almost lost your grip. Kirishima slowly began to lift off from the floor just floating in mid air. With wide eyes you stared in shock, wondering if maybe you had gone a little crazy while hoping he might help you so that you didn't fall to your death. "Well I know what I'm about to tell you is a bit unbelievable so I decided to show you that I'm not joking before I explain. I happen to be a reaper and today was supposed to be the day you die. But like I said I really don't know what to do with you seeing as I don't want someone as manly and fearless as you to just be gone and reincarnated as someone else."

 

As if to further prove his status as a reaper the man before you started to change. His hoodie and shorts, which were pretty standard for building walks, melted away into a pair of black military style pants and boots along with a fitted black tank top that hugged his chest and back muscles in a way that should definitely be illegal. His arms were covered in a few black band tattoos that circled his wrists and biceps. What was the most astonishing was that his spiky red hair grew long, long to the point that the ends floated around his hips. His still smiling face was covered with a half skull mask leaving his mouth still exposed. "Hey pebble do you want to live as who you are now even if that meant some things about you would change or do you want to die and have me guide you to the next realm? I'll do whatever makes you happier even if it's not what I'd like to see." His eyes shone with sincerity through his mask and his smile seemed a bit forced. You could tell that even though he wasn't human like you he still felt the same emotions that you did. From everything he had said and shown you you could tell he held affection towards you. Enough so that he was willing to go against what was probably as natural as breathing for a reaper. Looking up at him still floating above you a smile broke over your face. You told him you wanted to stay as yourself whatever the changes might be.

 

Kirishima grinned at you somehow managing to look sweet and scary all at once. Wasting no time he floated over you and grabbed you by the back of your shirt with one hand. Instead of pulling you back to the second level he drifted the two of you through the hole and down to the concrete floors below. Letting go of the back of your shirt he held out his hand to you still trying to give you some control over the situation. As you took his hand he gave it a grateful squeeze before moving to sit with you on a dust covered bench. "Listen pebble I want to be honest with you. The only way for you to stay yourself is if you became my anchor. An anchor is kind of like a reaper's chosen soulmate and we only get a chance to have one every 1000 years of service." This day was getting stranger and stranger by the fucking minute. You could live but you would need to become this man's soulmate, basically his wife. Looking at him again you could say you wouldn't enjoy the physical parts of such a relationship. Honestly Kirishima had no business being this sexy. Well if this kind of thing was gonna happen to you Halloween was no better day for it to happen on. Squeezing his hand you agreed even though you knew he had more to explain.

 

"If you're sure then I'll take us to my home so that we can link our souls without turning into dust bunnies." The world around you faded out and changed into a huge bedroom that was painted black and red with posters of an old superhero movie lining them. There was workout equipment everywhere you looked, well that at least told you that his muscles were all from hard work and not just random spooky reaper magic. With no small bit of embarrassment you sat on his bed and rubbed your fingers across the covers looking anywhere but him. Taking you straight into his bedroom instead of a living room or something told you exactly what you had been guessing at. Linking souls was definitely going to require sexual contact. "Pebble look at me." Looking up you took him in once again almost drooling over his now shirtless chest as he loosened his belt giving you a tantalizing look at his black happy trail. He walked up to you and held your cheeks in his hands. He searched your eyes for a few moments and when he saw no fear or rejection lowered his head to give you a kiss. This kiss was slow and gentle but full of so much heat you were sure every nerve in your body was on fire. Kirishima's tongue licked across yours as he savored the taste of his soon to be anchor. Not wanting to just sit there and take it you put your all into the kiss licking his teeth, nibbling on his lips, and even sucking on his tongue the same way you wished to suck on another part of his body. Kirishima broke the kiss panting heavily as he let his hands caress down your neck until they reached the collar of the t-shirt you wore. With barely a flick of his fingers your shirt was torn down the middle, your bra sharing its fate. He pushed the shredded material down your shoulders letting it fall to the bed.

 

"I'm going to be as gentle as I can for you pebble but I have very limited control over myself at the moment. Your so fucking beautiful I swear my supervisor gave me your case cause he knew I'd fall for you." Crawling over you he straddled your waist and began to kiss and bite down your neck stopping only when he reached your breast. Pushing both your breasts together he kissed every inch of them worshiping the heavy mounds. With no warning he sucked both of your nipples into his mouth, bathing them with his tongue before biting them. After every bite he flicked his tongue against the hardened peaks earned himself little whines and moans of appreciation. Once he felt that he could no longer hold himself in check with just adoring your nipples, Kirishima slid down off the bed to crouch in front of you for the second time that day. Slipping his fingers under the waistband of your panties and shorts he tugged them down and over your boots leaving you in only your favorite necklace and your socks and boots. His blood was fire in his veins as he took in the sight of you. Your pussy was so beautifully slick with your juices that it would have been blasphemous for him not to take a taste. Grabbing your thighs he used them to pull your ass to the edge of the bed where he drove in with no hesitation. Licking and sucking the lips of your pussy before using his tongue to separate them. Each swipe of his tongue drove you higher and closer to orgasm. He suckled your clit grazing it with those sharp teeth. The hint of danger from having such vicious looking teeth on something so sensitive threw you over the edge. The pleasure made you so mindlessly happy that you screamed out "eijiro." Like it was a prayer.

 

At the sound of his first name on your lips all rational thought was lost to kiri. He stood shoving his pants down just enough to free his throbbing cock before he pulled you so only your shoulders and head remained on the bed. With you folded over the way he wanted Kiri slammed his cock into your tight little hole. He was only able to fit about half of his massive girth inside before he had to pull back out leaving only the head inside. This move was the best he could do to get the right momentum to start his powerful digging thrusts. Each thrust was hard and determined, meant to help him reach his goal. And reach his goal is what he did, Kiri bottomed out inside of you after 5 thrusts. His cock head kissed your cervix on the last thrust pulling a choked sob from your throat. Being folded into such a position only made the stretching of your pussy feel that much more overwhelming. Kiri set up a hard measured pace,his only focus on getting his seed into your womb to link the two of you together. Grunting and growling he told you everything he planned. "Fuck pebble your so damn tight and wet. I need to get my cum inside your womb otherwise I might go insane. No one told me linking to your anchor would make me feel like this. I wanna destroy anyone who would ever think to take you from me." You whined desperately every time his cock head battered against the entrance to your womb. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Reaching up you tried to rub your clit only for kiri to grab your wrist and hold it in a firm grip. He was almost passed the point of words but managed a beastly sounding "not without me." Before he increased his pace and shifted his hips making sure every thrust hammered your gspot. Kiri leaning over you to rail your little hole was already a sight to see but the way his hair hung down and tickled against your skin made every nerve ending you had buzz with electricity. A few strands had started to cling to his face due to the sweat pouring off of him and you had to swallow to keep from drooling. This man was made for it seemed, he was everything you had ever fantasized about on those lonely treks through the newest abandoned explore. The sounds of your sex echoed through the room, wet sucking noises, the slap of skin on skin and the sounds only two people in a haze pleasure could make. As he got closer kiri started to slap three fingers on his free hand against your clit. The rhythm of the slaps matched his cocks thrusts so perfectly it caused your pussy to let out a constant stream of squirt. At his final thrust he locked his knees prepared for what was to come. Kiri's cum shot from his slit hosing against your cervix as the base of his cock swelled locking inside you. His cum was so hot and he hadn't stopped tapping your clit. All this combined with the swelling of his cock threw you over the edge, an orgasm ripping through your body so hard your eyes rolled back in your head. Once you had gone limp kiri pulled you up into his arms before turning and sitting on the bed, still locked inside you.

 

"You are my anchor now the other part of me that will light my way even in the darkest hour." Laying down kiri relaxed, one large hand stroking your back as your breathing began to even out. Just as you were about to drift off you felt shocks and tingling race up and down your arms. Leaning up you looked down at your arms and found you had developed the same tattoos that kiri had on his arms. When you questioned him on it he smiled happily before caressing each mark. "These are proof that our link is true and blessed by the fate in charge of reaper unions." Your heart did a little flip as you took in his love filled expression. By now Kiri's knot had gone down so you pulled yourself up and off of his semi hard cock. He protested wishing to sleep buried inside you but quieted down when you spun around and put your pussy over his face. Leaning down you took his cock in hand and began to lick all the cum and pussy juice from it. Following your lead kiri pulled your hips down and swiped his tongue through the combination of your fluids and his. Once you had his cock cleaned you started to tease him, digging your tongue into his slit. His hips bucked and his leisurely pace on your pussy became wild as he slurped and sucked away. Feeling mischievous you continued you playing with his slit but began to rub that sensitive spot just under the head of his cock.

 

That is where you went wrong or in this case very right. Kiri's switch was flipped as he lifted you clear in the air by your hips. He threw you into the middle of the room but instead of hitting the floor you stayed suspended in the air. He was using his powers on you! With his magic kiri floated you to sit on his cock no other part of him touching you but the cock pressed at your entrance. "Pretty pebble do your bolder a favor and count for me. I want to see just how much of me is claiming this pussy." You couldn't deny him since keeping silent only made him tease you gently with his tip. Frustrated and wet you began to count each inch. At six you really started to feel the stretching of your inner muscles on this heavy cock. At nine inches you had a little drool running down the corner of your mouth. At twelve inches your pussy was continuously dribbling squirt down Kiri's cock and balls. At fourteen you came whining his name, begging him to fuck you properly and end this delicious torture. All he did was laugh and slowly thrust inside of you keeping you well pleasured but unsatisfied. "It's ok pebble we have all the time in the world now. We're going to take this slow all night long." His last words were said on a beastly growl as he placed one hand on your throat and squeezed enough to make your pussy squeeze his cock in return. This whole Halloween had been nuts so an all night fuck fest with your new supernatural soulmate was just the cherry on top. Sobbing you reached back and grabbed hold of a lock of his hair looking for any part of him to touch that could ground you. His thrusts got harder as you pulled. Well you knew how to get him to fuck you harder. You couldn't wait to learn more tonight and for the rest of your eternity together.

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Authors Note: ok, apparently this chapter was obscenely long lol since tumblr won’t let me posted all at once, so it will be broken down in 3 parts. Enjoy the triple feature!

WARNING: nsfw (oral m and f receiving)

MINORS DNI

XIII.

(Part 1/3)

It was that time of the year once more. Another stellar rendition of The Nutcracker was to take place for the NYC Ballet Fall Gala at the famous David H. Koch Theater. Once more all your hard work and effort got you the part for the Sugarplum Fairy, one of the main characters. The training for this particular show had taken the last few months of arduous labor and additional rehearsal sessions.

Suguru would show up here and there during your breaks bringing you soup or any other snacks he thought you might enjoy. It was sure to say your colleague were all swooning over the handsome, tall, raven haired, muscled, tattooed, golden eyed god that showed up here and there to bring you food and talk to you during break to then say goodbye with a tender kiss on your lips.

“My God Y/N! К Черту(Damn!)” said your red haired Russian friend Sasha approaching you after Suguru left “I’m impressed! I wish my man would visit to bring me food but I guess all men cannot be Prince Charming, where did you find him!?” asked jokingly. Sasha became your friend from the beginning, you both were number 1 and 2. Either you or her got the stellar for every show but neither she or you minded since you both respected the other’s talent.

You laughed at her enthusiasm “he is wonderful, I met Suguru when I lived in Japan… we moved here a while ago and we haven’t separated since” completely omitting Satoru’s part on your story as if he had never existed.

A pang of guilt assaulted you. Was this what you two became? After years together, all the love and adventures you lived. You both were reduced now to be strangers… stories ripped off the pages of each other’s book?

Lately you have been thinking about Satoru, today was the first day of December, soon on the 7th, he would be celebrating his 32nd birthday. Unavoidably this thought pulled you down memory lane to the last birthday you spent together.Before you found out about his affair.

~~~Flashback~~~

“You can’t use any of your six eyes to cheat! I’ll be mad if you do!” You warned the menace as you guided him through the doors of your living room to the outside. You stood behind him leading his body to walk in front of you. Satoru laughed “c’mon baby! You know I suck at this!” He complained like a spoiled brat making you shake your head. “Yes you suck!Now quit complaining and keep those eyes closed! ALL OF THEM!” added for good measure making him laugh again “yes mam!” He answered making you your eyes. Stopping finally in front of the gazebo next to the artificial lake. The structure was decorated with lights, heaters in every corner to keep the place warm since it was winter; you were lucky it has not snowed yet!

On a table there were a couple of glasses for champagne and a bottle of Rosé Dom Pérignon for Satoru’s sweet tooth.

The birthday cake you baked was a chocolate lava cake with caramel decorations. All surrounded by

an obscene assortment of desert and candy that waited for its owner to show up.

“Ok, open your eyes” he immediately gasped in delight “Kitten!” He turned around to wrap his arms around you and lift you up so he could kiss, his tongue searched for yours in a passionate embrace that left you breathless “thank you love….” he whispered once you both separated to catch your breath, his forehead against yours and his nose rubbing against the tip of yours for some Eskimo kisses. You chuckled “you are welcome…. Happy birthday Satoru, I love you” you said looking straight into his eyes making his heart melt. “I love you…” he whispered back with a little tremble on his voice, his eyes turned apologetic. It confused you but he didn’t let you speak “don’t ever leave me… please” he whispered against your lips not giving you a chance to answer before he kissed you once more. This kiss was more intense. He set you on your feet so he could tower over you and crowd your space with his body while his tongue explored avidly the sweet and humid opening of your mouth.

When he finally pulled back, his typical Cheshire Cat smirk was in place. “Now come here doll! Let’s see all the delicious things you prepared for me” holding your hand he all but ran inside the gazebo and gasped once more in delight “oh my sweet mochi! You got me all my favourite sweets!” He declares with a child like joy “mmm… come here, asks while taking a seat and pulling you on his lap “since you went through the trouble of doing this for me, how about we indulge and partake on this feast” he whispered on your ear making you shiver. One of his arms was placed around you hips while the other looked for some chocolate to eat and also feed you “open you mouth baby” he requested and you did. He placed a chocolate square in your mouth and watched as you closed your lips around it also sucking his finger. The effect was immediate, you could feel his cock hardening against your butt, a little groan escaped his lips while his eyes were fixated on your lips. “I changed my mind… I want my chocolate back” and with that he crushed his lips against yours. A moan was suffocated by his lips when his tongue moved deeper as if he was trying to extract any trace of the chocolate you consumed.

———-> Chapter 13 / Part 2

Tags: @sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@okkotsuoasis

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

@tampon-earrings

@actualdeemon

@janenks

[shirophantomvox]

Random date night with Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo

Hello, anon! Ask and you shall receive! This prompt is very interesting and I will try to keep it in character as much as possible. To sum this up, Hisoka would take you to an ice cream shop, a carnival, or apple orchard while Illumi would rather go to an art or historical museum. Chrollo would persuade you to attend a book reading/author signing or go hiking. Depending on who you are and what your ideal date is, I’m sure you’d find them all fun. Going to a carnival or apple orchard is my go-to since I’ve barely been because they’re all in the suburbs. These headcanons are explained much more than the others. That is why Chrollo and Illumi seem to be short, but they’re not. Also, I can’t wait for Halloween because these headcanons are going to be amazing. I am extremely sorry if there are grammar errors! Taking classes on Zoom is frustrating and now my brain has to relearn everything that I lost in 3 months! Before we get started, I have a few announcements.

This post is more laid back than my other headcanons because I tried to keep it as canon as possible.

I want to thank you all for 65 followers! It means a lot! I’m happy to see that a lot of you enjoy my writing and like it enough to follow me! I have a challenge for you! When I reach 100 followers, I will host some type of writing event here...but I need ideas. I’ve seen some pages do specials where you can send an ask and pretend like you're talking to a character and I respond with what they’d say. SEND ME IDEAS! I WILL CREDIT YOU!

I will be stepping back a little more than before. I’ll still be logged in and re-blogging but as far as writing posts like this...it may only be once or twice a week. You see, I’m in college and I’m struggling financially and I have to work on scholarships. If you all send me an ask, be patient.

Voltron posts will only be created based on asks. I will not be writing posts about VLD if no one requests them. I do not receive any feedback from it anymore and no one seems to like them.

Now, let’s get into the post.

Let's start with Illumi first.

Headcanon 1: Illumi has a secret admiration for different types of art but he specifically enjoys pop art and surrealism. He has commented on how surrealism makes his brain twist and his feelings swirl as he tries to figure out the piece and what inspires it.

He prefers not to participate in tours as he likes to digest the art at his own pace.

Headcanon 2: In his spare time, he paints on a canvas. His art style consists of both surrealism and abstract art. For a person with a dark personality, his compositions always contain bright colors and abstract techniques that leave you wondering about his TRUE personality. He is truly a good man with a bright personality but after being abused for so long, those behaviors/personalities have been shoved so far down his throat that they may not come back up.

He has a bad habit of asking you what you thought about every single piece of art you passed. The conversations were great but this is a date after all. The playful conversation slowly turns into a lecture about art. Although you loved your bf’s dictionary-like brain it also drained your energy.

One of his favorite artists is Vincent Van Gough. Although he favors surrealism, Van Gogh’s art style was mind-blowing to him. So amazed that he buys several Van Gogh t-shirts from the gift shop.

His favorite piece created by Van Gough is “Starry Night”.

He notices that you are becoming bored and decides that it is time for MORE excitement, one that you are certain to enjoy.

“Where are we going,” you ask, pretending to be interested.

“Down to the basement. We are going to have a bite to eat.”

Since Illumi rarely smiled, when he did smile it drove you wild. The anticipation of what his next move was going to be is what drove that wildness. Being a bounty hunter was thrilling already but dating a smart, badass assassin was totally out of your league but it worked out.

Headcanon 3: Illumi’s idea of being romantic is dramatically different from yours. He believes just spending time with you on the couch was enough. He is correct; but if you have the time and funds, your time together should be a little spontaneous. You insisted on dates outside of the house because his family will not stay out of your business.

“Illumi, I am too hungry for more trivia.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. So am I. That is why I’ve decided to take you to a wine and cheese party.”

Huh? Wine and Cheese at 3PM? That’s ok. When was there a time limit on when you can drink alcohol?

Illumi has indirectly attended parties as such when he was 15 years old. He never drank, but he watched as his mother’s friends (surprisingly) talked about business and their children. This time, you weren’t going to talk about business for once. Instead, you two were going to actually talk about what couples discuss.

Headcanon 4: When introduced to alcohol for the first time, Illumi immediately stated how he hated brown liquor. That includes Hennessy, Jack Daniels, etc. It makes him sick to his stomach. He prefers to drink Smirnoff mixed with fruity drinks like strawberry or pineapple.

He loves it when you make these drinks for him on a summer day.

Hence the title wine and cheese, you both go to a stand-up table, place your brochures down, and actually have a wonderful conversation not involving work or hunting.

Illumi smiled a few times, more than usual. Whenever he appears to be softer even around you, that is because he has mellowed out and doesn't have the overbearing weight of his family on his shoulders. You set him free.

Hisoka

According to a one-shot that another manga artist created, they expressed that Hisoka was found on the side of the road, was taken in by someone that worked at a local circus, and learned Nen in a matter of days. Hisoka’s clown look and having the skills of a magician proves that this has to be canon in some way.

Headcanon 1: Given this potential backstory, going to a carnival is his go-to every summer. He wants to take you to a circus but saves that for you as an engagement gift.

Everyone with a heart knows that whether or not you’re in a relationship or not the carnival is fun as hell! Expensive fried food, elephant ears, funnel cake, ICEE’s, rides, and stuffed animals are to die for!

Being at a carnival relaxes him so his bloodlust isn’t activated unless someone bumps into him and causes a scene.

Headcanon 2: PDA is something that Hisoka does well; he doesn’t overdo it but does it enough where people get the impression that you are a couple and aren’t “best friends”.

While completing a mission depending on how rough it may be, he insists that you tag along to see how he handles the situation. You’ve already seen his ruthlessness from Hunter’s exam but he insists.

His sense of pride gets the best of him sometimes. Sometimes his head is so big that it reminds you of a large birthday balloon.

Headcanon 3: ANYWAY, given his nature, he is very adventurous, dangerous, and courageous. If he wants to go on the Demon Drop, he’ll do it and you DO not have a choice in the matter. He’ll tease or guilt trip you into doing something that you would not like to do.

“Well, you wouldn’t want me to cling on to someone else, would you?”

“No. Of course not,” you reply.

“Let’s go then, scaredy-cat.”

As a hunter, you’ve seen worse. Why are you so afraid to go on a ride?

Headcanon 4: At apple orchards, cornfield mazes are one of his favorites. You cannot for the life of you figure out how to get out but he can. He grabs a scarecrow and scares you from behind. That annoys you but is nothing compared to later on that night.

Oh. My. God. It’s haunted house time!

“Hisoka, I’m not going in!”

“Why not? I’ll protect you.”

“Because they’re monsters and I already have to deal with one.”

It took him a second to catch on that you were talking about him.

“That’s going to bite you in the butt, kitten.”

Headcanon 5: Like Killua, Hisoka has a sweet tooth. Don’t allow his buff appearance to fool you!

He LOVES caramel apples, elephant ears, funnel cake, freshly squeezed lemonade, fudge, and cotton candy. How can this man manage to stay in shape? The world may never know.

Headcanon 6: He isn’t one to play by other people’s rules but he sets his own rules with your relationship that you both must obey. One of those rules says that neither of you can be on your phones while together.

Headcanon 7: Hisoka insists that you both wear either matching pants or matching shirts to avoid unnecessary flirtation.

He isn’t jealous but on “us time”, he doesn’t want to lose a single second.

Headcanon 8: Hisoka only jumps in when necessary. Given that you’ve passed the hunter’s exam and work as a bodyguard, he knows you can handle your business. If the person can’t take a hint, then he steps in. They almost back up immediately considering Hisoka is towering over them.

When the moon shines, you both go to the car and off to sleep in your comfy king-sized bed.

Chrollo

We all know that Chrollo loves to read! What does he specifically like to read? What Genre? Does he like to read alone or with other people?

Although Chrollo is a thief and must be hidden in the shadows, the authorities have called off the search for him for at least 3 years. Slowly but surely, he begins to find himself in the outside world again.

Chrollo once discussed a book with the Phantom Troupe when they were being transported to another place for a mission. He read “Tears of a Tiger” by Sharon M. Draper.

The reading sessions are opened with an affirmation and a reason to be thankful to be alive. He says he is thankful for the troupe, glances at you, and smiles. No one catches on to that sly face except for Phinks.

Headcanon 1: Chrollo is very silent and shy to an extent. He only associates with people he knows and trusts. You are the social butterfly at this moment.

Chrollo tags along behind you like a shy child, holding your hand while you stick out your free hand to greet everyone.

Today, the book club was going to read “Divergent”.

Headcanon 2: Although he loves to read, he hates it when others read out loud. Most people are drably read and it annoys him. After a while, he takes over. Chrollo was tense the first 30 minutes of the meeting because two cops were there but neither of them noticed it was him.

Headcanon 3: Chrollo often acts the part of the character that he is reading in the book. His tone, attitude, and emphasis on certain words keep the group engaged. He is complimented on his acting!

“Good Job, honey,” you whisper.

He responds by tightly squeezing your hand.

His tone was so impressive that the host insisted that he read for the entire night. He was ok with that because in between reads he was often distracted by a lovely pair of jeans and shoes you had on. You were into writing, so hearing others read and act out the characters helped.

Headcanon 4: In some settings, Chrollo is very braggadocious. He insisted that the group read one of your stories so you could be provided with feedback.

“We’d be delighted to view your story, y/n!”

“It will be fun!”

The book club wasn’t a stereotypical club that only consisted of soccer moms but instead consisted of men and women who were involved with a business, law enforcement, health, etc. This was an open space for everyone to relax and forget about their demanding jobs.

After the meeting, the group went to dinner at a nearby pizzeria. You all enjoyed large pizzas, beer, salads, and dessert. How could your stomach (or anyone’s stomach) hold that much?

Chrollo laughed so much that it made you question if he was your actual boyfriend or not. He even engaged in conversations with the two off-duty cops! For once, you helped Chrollo experience the greater things in life; true love, friendship, and happiness.

“Thank you,” he whispered and slyly placed a kiss on your hand. “For everything.”

[iam93percentstardust]

hey alle, so for the prompts i'd love some cute and funny winteriron with bucky wanting to impress tony with his cooking, but tony being a very picky eater. which leads to a lot of frustration on bucky's side, and obliviousness on what is even going on from tony's. if you feel like it. thank you! <3

Here it is! The long-awaited His Girl FRIDAY remix! I hope you love this as much as I do!

As always, everything I write is on ao3 too

~

The first time Bucky left food in Tony’s workshop and come back to find it untouched, he’d figured it was a fluke. Tony had probably been caught up in a zone—like Steve had warned him about when Bucky had decided he was going to woo Tony with food—and hadn’t noticed the food was even there.

The second time, he made sure to catch Tony’s attention as he was dropping off the plate—lasagna because Natalia had said Tony’s mother was Italian and Bucky made a pretty decent lasagna if he did say so. Tony had glanced at him and then at the plate before turning away with a slightly bewildered frown. Bucky had taken the frown to mean that no one else had ever bothered before to take care of Tony, which was a fact that had just about broken his heart, and left the plate there. He’d gone back later that night to find the lasagna untouched. That had been a little harder to explain away, but he’d eventually decided that maybe Tony was one of those food snobs who only liked Italian food made by actual Italians.

The third time he made oatmeal with a little bit of honey and cream, perfect for someone with as much of a sweet tooth as Tony had, and brought it into the workshop for Tony, who had spent the entire night working on new arrows for Clint.

“Tony?” he called softly, not wanting to startle him. Tony was uncomfortable enough with all the new people moving into the tower after everything with SHIELD and Hydra; being Hydra’s pet assassin, he didn’t want to make it worse by sneaking up on him. “I brought you some breakfast.”

Tony popped up from underneath a table, visibly brightening. “Oh good,” he said cheerfully, making grabby hands at the bowl. “I was just starting to get hungry.” His hair was mussed, two perfect rings of black smeared around his eyes, likely where the goggles currently perched on top of his head had been resting earlier.

Bucky smiled at the adorable display and held out the bowl. Tony eagerly grabbed it, only to blink at it as soon as he saw what was in it.

“Oatmeal?” he asked delicately.

“I thought you’d appreciate having something a little more delicate after not eating for a while,” Bucky explained.

“…Oh.” After another awkward moment, Tony said carefully, “Thanks.”

Satisfied, Bucky left him to his work. This time—this time—Tony would eat it all and then he’d see what an amazing cook Bucky was and how he would absolutely be able to provide for Tony and then he’d swoon into Bucky’s arms and demand that Bucky take him right there.

Okay maybe not right there—the workshop didn’t seem like the best location for amorous activities—but that was why they called it a fantasy, right?

Too bad Tony punctured that fantasy like a balloon.

Bucky went back downstairs long to pick up the bowl after Tony had come up to the common areas, yawning widely and telling everyone he was heading to bed for the next twenty-four hours so don’t bother him unless New York was on fire. It had been a bit of a disappointment that he’d just nodded at Bucky without saying anything about the breakfast or about his everlasting feelings for him, but not nearly as much of a disappointment to walk into the workshop to find the bowl as untouched as all the other meals he’d so painstakingly prepared.

~

“I don’t get it,” he whined to Sam later that day. “I’m a good cook.”

Sam gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you sure? It’s been, what, seventy years since the last time you made anything. Maybe you’re not as good as you used to be.”

Bucky gasped dramatically. “You take that back!”

“No. You promised me you’d offer dating advice with Natasha and instead you’re sitting here mooning over Tony’s ass again so I’ll say whatever I like about your cooking.”

“Sorry,” he muttered guiltily. Sam was right. He had promised that. Or, rather, Steve had promised advice and Bucky had taken one look at him still pining over Peggy and feeling weird about his current interest being Peggy’s niece (a valid way to feel) and declared him hopeless before telling Sam that he would help him out instead. After all, he remembered Natalia from the years she’d spent training with him during her childhood. Who else would be more qualified to teach Sam how to woo her? Well, besides Clint obviously, but he was taking some personal time away from the team.

“She likes the ballet,” he said. “She wanted to be a ballerina when she was younger, said they were as graceful as any Widow only they didn’t have to kill.”

“And you’re sure that won’t just make her sad?” Sam asked dubiously.

Bucky glared at him. “I might not like you very much—” Sam rolled his eyes—"But I like Natalia a whole lot. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. Take her to the ballet and take Steve and Sharon while you’re at it. A double date will help her feel less trapped and maybe Steve will stop moping and ask Sharon out.”

“It’s a little weird, you know.”

“Sure, but he kissed Peggy once and it’s not like he’s ever gonna go back to the war and live out the rest of his time there, so he might as well move on.”

Sam laughed. “Guess that’s true.” He sighed, smile fading away. “I don’t know why Tony’s ignoring your meals. Sorry about that though. It sucks.”

“If I may,” JARVIS cut in. Both of them jumped, though Bucky would deny to his dying day that he yelped. Sam, on the other hand, shrieked like a kid and Bucky reminded himself to go back and access the audio footage so he would have blackmail.

“Sorry, JARVIS,” he apologized. “Keep forgetting you’re up there. Didn’t exactly have AI back during the war.”

“Or even in other houses,” Sam added.

“My apologies,” JARVIS said, and he’ll be damned if JARVIS didn’t sound extremely apologetic. It was incredible, really, how much life Tony imbued in his creations. “I only wanted to offer my advice about Sergeant Barnes’ attempts at wooing Sir.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked. “Go right ahead. Can’t be any worse than any of the other advice I’ve gotten.” Seriously, Clint had even suggested truth serum, like that wasn’t the worst idea ever suggested.

“Sir is an extremely picky eater,” JARVIS explained. “He does not enjoy cooked tomatoes, ricotta cheese, or the texture of oatmeal.”

…All of which had been in at least one of the meals he’d prepared for Tony.

“Fuck.”

JARVIS wryly said, “Indeed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“You requested that I remain inactive on your floor while you were recovering. But you’re in Sergeant Wilson’s quarters at the moment so I may share my expertise.”

He had said that, hadn’t he? It had been in the early days when he was still having trouble remembering what he’d said moments earlier, but he had a vague recollection of being overwhelmed by the idea of constant monitoring and asking if JARVIS could be turned off.

“Wow, way to go, Barnes,” Sam commented, hiding a grin behind his hand.

“Fuck,” he said again, more emphatically. “Best tool at my disposal and I’m not even using it. JARVIS, I bet you could tell me all sorts of things about Tony.”

He got the impression that if the AI could sniff, he would have. “I would not dare to air Sir’s ‘dirty laundry’ so to speak.”

“No, no,” Bucky said, waving his metal hand. The hand made a concerning grinding sound and he frowned. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d probably need to ask someone to take a look at it. Sam was capable of performing basic maintenance, and Bucky trusted him not to sabotage the arm, but anything worse and he’d have to go ask Tony about it.

“Not what I meant,” he continued. “Just that you could tell me what Tony likes and doesn’t like. Uh, how do I turn you back on in my floor?”

“Your request is sufficient,” JARVIS said.

“Great. I’ll meet you up there in a bit. We’re gonna make something so incredible Tony will have to fall in love with me.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Sam said, kicking his feet up onto the newly vacated spot on the couch now that Bucky was standing. “I’m going to see if I can find reasonably priced tickets to the ballet.”

Bucky blinked. “I think you’re gonna have worse luck than me.”

Sam threw a shoe at him.

~

On JARVIS’ advice, he baked blueberry muffins because those were apparently Tony’s favorite fruit. Bucky didn’t really understand it. Frankly, he thought blueberries were almost as bad as bananas—nasty, taste-changing fruit that they were—but if Tony loved them, then he would be willing to have them in his kitchen for as long as it took to bake the muffins. Fortunately, he was just as good a baker as he was a cook, so it was a breeze to whip up a delicious batch that had him grateful he couldn’t get salmonella from the mix.

Unfortunately, Tony hated the muffins. Or that’s what Bucky gathered when he went to pick the plate up, hoping that it would be empty for the first time, and found it just as untouched as everything else had been.

“What the fuck, JARVIS?” he complained. “You said he liked blueberries.”

“I don’t know, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS said, sounding as baffled as Bucky felt. “Sir has always appreciated them.”

That, Bucky reflected later that night, was possibly to be expected. For all that JARVIS had the inhuman ability to remember literally everything he’d ever seen or heard, he was still just a program. He couldn’t necessarily extrapolate about preferences or tastes. For all either of them knew, Tony did like blueberries but didn’t like muffins or something. It didn’t really explain why JARVIS knew that Tony didn’t like cooked tomatoes, but maybe that could be explained by Tony mentioning it out loud and the other stuff, JARVIS had had to figure out on his own.

He sat up in bed, thinking about it. Maybe that was it: Tony didn’t like muffins. But there had to be other recipes out there that used blueberries that Tony would like. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d come across a blueberry cupcake with brown butter frosting recipe earlier that day. And Bucky didn’t know anyone who could say no to his brown butter. He was incredible at it, and that was being modest. Just the other day, Thor had declared the brown butter sauce he’d made for their chicken to be worthy of an Asgardian feast. Thor was a god. He probably knew things like that.

“JARVIS, you up?” he asked into the dark room.

“Always, Sergeant Barnes.”

“You don’t gotta keep callin’ me that. Bucky’s my name. I’d rather answer to that.”

“Very well, Bucky.”

“Could you pull up some other recipes with blueberries in the flavor profile please? Filter out anything that has something Tony doesn’t like and recipes similar enough to each other that they could be repeats, uh, let’s say anything with a higher than 85% similarity.”

When JARVIS was finished compiling his list, there was a lot less than what Bucky had hoped for, but it was still something he could work with. He looked through the list: cupcakes, pancakes, cookies, more than a few salads, something called a Panzanella. He starred the ones he thought would catch Tony’s interest the most, putting the others aside to possibly try later down the road. Content with his plan, he laid back down, falling asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.

~

None of it worked. Despite his supposed love for blueberries, Tony continued to turn away everything Bucky made for him. So he branched out, trying other foods that JARVIS said Tony was fond of. Nothing came back with more than a couple bites taken out of it and Tony had taken to giving him worried looks every time he appeared at the workshop door with another plate. Bucky was starting to lose hope that he was ever going to woo Tony with food and that was… not great.

Traditional dates were pretty close to impossible. Despite his rapid recovery in the tower, going outside was still too frightening with the crowds of New York, the inability to pick out threats around him, and the lack of sightlines all driving Bucky back inside and to the highest floors of the tower where he could look out over everything.

And as for anything else, well, Bucky was an ex-brainwashed assassin with no money to his name and only half the social skills he used to have (Sam said he had more than he thought but arguing with Sam wasn’t like trying to get someone to like him). He didn’t have much else to offer other than making food and giving Tony a project to work on. The first wasn’t going well and the second made Bucky feel too much like he was taking advantage of Tony to use more than once or twice.

Disheartened, he made his way up to Natalia’s floor to ask her for advice. She and Tony got along almost as well as she got along with Clint. Maybe she would have insights that JARVIS wasn’t able to offer. As he neared her room, though, he realized that she wasn’t alone.

“—to kill me,” someone—Tony, Bucky realized almost immediately—was saying. He stiffened. Who was trying to kill Tony? Bucky would kill them first! Was murder a good way to woo Tony?

“котенок,” Natalia said patiently, “he’s not trying to kill you.”

“You don’t know that!” Tony exclaimed wildly. He sounded like he was pacing. “He could be! He keeps bringing me things everyone knows I won’t eat.”

And now Natalia sounded amused as she said, “Antoshka, I don’t think he’d be trying to feed you if he wanted to kill you. It’s more likely an honest mistake.”

“It could be poison.”

“It’s not poison.”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t tried any of it.”

“It’s not poison because that’s more my style than it is James’.”

Oh, they were talking about him. Tony thought Bucky was trying to kill him. “Fuck,” he said mournfully, leaning up against the wall. No wonder Tony wouldn’t touch any of the food he made for him.

“Well, I don’t see why else he’s bringing me food!” Tony said.

“Really? Not a single reason?”

“It’s food I won’t eat! He clearly doesn’t like me or he’d be bringing me actual food I like.”

“Does he know why you won’t eat it?”

“No, but why does that matter?”

“Tony, darling, have you ever once informed him that you have a sensory processing disorder and you won’t eat a lot of cooked foods because you can’t handle the texture?”

Bucky straightened back up. Tony has a what? He’d never even heard of that before. Why didn’t JARVIS say something? He thought back to when he’d been building the list of blueberry foods and how he’d wondered if JARVIS didn’t necessarily know about the pattern for Tony’s likes and dislikes in his food. Maybe JARVIS hadn’t known about Tony’s disorder, so he hadn’t known to tell Bucky about it. That made the most amount of sense to him though he couldn’t imagine why Tony had never told his AI about his disorder.

“Why would I tell him that?” Tony asks, sounding confused.

He could just picture Natalia shaking her head as she said, “Oh, Antoshka.”

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Armed with his new knowledge, Bucky crept away from the door, already planning out new meals to bring to Tony.

~

That very night, he went downstairs with a bowl of salad. It had nuts to provide a small amount of protein, though he’d also put some baked chicken in a Tupperware as well, in case that was something Tony could eat. Tony’s music was playing at a manageable volume by the time he got to the workshop, likely because he was drafting plans for some sort of irrigation system, rather than any sort of consideration for Bucky.

Tony caught sight of him before he got the doors open. Bucky watched as his face fell for a moment before he plastered on a bright, fake smile. Hydra’s programming was still too ingrained in him to do anything as obvious as wince, but he still felt a twinge of shame. Why hadn’t he thought to ask Tony what he would like to eat instead of relying on his own preferences?

“Uh,” he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. In his other hand, he held up the Tupperware with the salad bowl on top of it. “I brought you some dinner. It’s just a salad, but I included some baked chicken on the side if you want that. I hope it’s something you like.”

Tony blinked at him. “What?”

“I—okay, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. I overheard you and Natalia earlier. I didn’t know you couldn’t eat anything I was making for you. I wasn’t trying to poison you or anything, just thought you might like some food since you’re down here all the time. Sorry for, you know, eavesdropping and making you think I didn’t like you.”

A cautious smile spread across Tony’s face. “You could have asked JARVIS,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I did, but I guess he didn’t know you don’t like cooked foods.”

“What?” Tony cocked his head to the side. “No, he should know that.” He spun around in his chair, waving the glowing blue drafts of the irrigation system aside in favor of pulling up JARVIS’ bright golden code. It was a beautiful display, and Bucky found himself moving closer, mesmerized by the sight. He had no idea JARVIS’ code was so complex.

“J, buddy, what happened to your code?” Tony murmured. He reached out a hand, groping for Bucky’s shirt to tug him closer. “Gimme food.”

“So you like salad?” Bucky asked, relieved that he’d finally found something.

“And baked chicken,” Tony added. “But it has to be baked. Otherwise, the texture’s too rubbery for me.”

“I can do that,” he promised. “Do you like breading or marinade with the baked chicken?”

“Marinade, yes. Breading, no.”

“Okay. I’ll remember that.”

Tony paused in tearing through JARVIS’ code to give him a small, genuine smile that made Bucky’s heart light up. He returned the smile, which grew bigger when Tony’s gaze darted down to his lips, snagging there as though caught by the sight. He knew he had a nice mouth; he’d been told that plenty of times back in the forties.

“I have another confession to make,” he said once Tony’s attention returned to the code.

“Uh-huh,” Tony said distractedly.

“I was—”

“There you are!” Tony exclaimed. “J, who made those changes to lines 894 through 1036 in your code?”

JARVIS immediately said, “The last time those lines were accessed was in 2008 by Obadiah Stane.”

Tony’s face fell. “Oh.”

It took Bucky a moment remember who Obadiah Stane was. He’d appeared in one of Bucky’s mission files as the Winter Soldier. Back during the nineties, following Tony’s parents deaths, Tony had been planning on shutting down SI’s weapons manufacturing division. Hydra, who’d been buying black market weapons from Stane for years by that time, had ordered the Winter Soldier to assassinate Tony to give Stane complete control of the company. But before he’d been able to complete his mission, Stane had convinced Tony to see “reason” and Bucky had been put back in cryo. That unfulfilled mission had been one of the reasons he’d been so hesitant to move into the tower before his programming had been completely removed. Steve had tried to push for the move anyway, but before either of them could successfully argue the point, Tony had put out a call to the world’s top experts on brainwashing and three whirlwind weeks later, Bucky’s mind was programming-free. And just like that, without even meeting the guy, Bucky had developed a crush on one Tony Stark.

“Sorry, doll,” he said, dropping a hand to Tony’s shoulder and squeezing it gently.

Tony sighed frustratedly. “Every time I think I’ve taken care of everything Obie fucked up, I find something else he’s done. He was probably hoping I’d starve to death or something without anyone making food to my exacting specifications, that asshole.”

“He sounds pretty terrible,” Bucky agreed.

“J, are you able to access the last backup on those lines to restore them?” Tony asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, let’s get those fixed, and uh—”

“And we’ll go out for dinner,” Bucky interrupted.

“Huh?” Tony asked, turning to look at him.

“Seems I owe you an apology and I figure taking you out for dinner is a little nicer than a salad. ‘Sides, if I take you out, I’ll have a better understanding of what you like to eat.”

“Careful there, Buckaroo, or I’ll start thinking this is supposed to be a date.”

Bucky would probably never know what possessed him to firmly say, “Yeah, that’s exactly what it’s supposed to be.” He certainly hadn’t planned to. He really had been planning on their dinner being a way to figure out what Tony liked so he could make it himself and continue with his wooing process from there, hopefully slowly easing Tony into believing that Bucky really did like him and wasn’t trying to poison him.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That wasn’t supposed to come out like that.”

Tony stared at him, then abruptly said, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That this is supposed to be a date.”

He could deny it and go back to his original plan. He’d probably even be able to pull off a lie like that. But there was a hopeful look in Tony’s eyes that stopped him from denying anything.

“You didn’t even know that I liked you until five minutes ago,” he pointed out cautiously.

Tony scoffed. “What, like you’ve never liked someone who hated you.”

“Uh, no. I’ve never done that.”

“Really?”

“Never.”

“Huh.”

“Are you… are you saying that you do like me?” Bucky asked.

“Well, yeah. You never mind that half of my engineering babble goes over your head and you bring me food even if you didn’t know it wasn’t something I could eat and you’re really fucking gorgeous when you’ve showered and your hair isn’t falling in greasy clumps around your face.”

“Look who’s talking,” Bucky said amusedly, reaching out to run his fingers through Tony’s hair, matted down with machine oil. Even filthy, he could feel how soft it would be when it was clean. Tony leaned into his hand, humming happily.

“So is that a yes on this being a date, Bucky babe?” Tony asked. “Cause I’ll be honest, I’m not usually left hanging.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding. “It’s a date.”

Tony grinned and turned his head just enough to kiss the inside of Bucky’s wrist, making Bucky shiver. “Let me get cleaned up.”

“You want me to join you?”

Tony winked at him. “Next time, honey.”

[systlinsideblog]

Part 7

The fall of the great walled city of Turia came on a day shimmering with heat, but with storm clouds building on the horizion, looming heavy as they built into great mounds over the prairies. The air smelled of the promise of rain; that was good, Systlin thought. A good heavy rain later would wash the blood off the streets.

Turia’s towers glittered white in the sun. The walls were high and proud and in excellent repair; the warriors manning the top of it were said to be skilled. Everyone she’d spoken to had told her the same; Turia was home to a million and a half people. Turia was the jewel of the prairies, the Ar of the South. Turia was home to marvelous markets and one could find any luxury one wished there. The people of Turia were grand and wealthy and proud, and though they loved luxury their fighting men were excellent.

Its walls were high and thick. Its wells were deep and never ran dry. There were food stores to outlast the greatest of sieges. The nine gates were thick and strong and guarded zealously; while attackers died at the walls, the people of Turia would relax in their bath houses and dine on delicacies and laugh.

Turia was splendid. Turia was rich. Turia had been sieged many times, but never once had Turia fallen.

Systlin rolled her neck and shoulders, cracking any tension out.

She remembered Myr. Turia reminded her strongly of it. Myr too had been rich, and strong, and undefeated. Myr as well had thought itself safe behind tall, thick walls and strong gates, guarded by skilled fighters. Myr as well had laughed at the army camped on the plains before it. The walls of Myr had famously been bound in Power, power laid so deeply and thickly by generation after generation of Myrish earth witches that there had been more power than stone to the walls. Breakers before her, born to the desert, had tested those walls. Breakers before her had exhausted themselves against them and failed and died.

She had tried herself against them anyway. She had not failed. There was a hundred foot gap in the walls of Myr now, named for her. “The Mitraka’s Gate,” they called it. The legend of how she’d brought down the famously unbreakable walls of Myr had spread north to the Skyfire reaches and south to Sielauk before she’d even left the deserts.

Turia’s walls were not as high or thick as Myr’s, and they were not spelled for protection. Against a Breaker of the least power they’d be useless, and Systlin was the strongest Breaker ever to live. She eyed the warriors on top of them, still out of bowshot, and for a moment felt a flash of pity for them.

It was gone quickly. She wondered how many of those proud men had women chained to their beds. A million and a half people, but that number did not, she knew, count slaves. Counting slaves, it was said that the number was at least twice that, and likely higher.

Foicatch was watching her. He had not been at Myr when it fell, but he had been there since. He’d ridden through the Mitraka’s Gate. He knew, of course, that she was remembering.

“Been a bit,” He said at last, as they waited for Myr to send out its famous tharlarion cavalry, and honestly though she found herself growing fond of the kaiila the Wagon Peoples rode and could admit that the vicious reptilian tharlarion were impressive, she wished she had a good, normal horse. “Since we had a real battle before us.”

“Hmmm.” She agreed. The last time, indeed, they’d been fighting a mad god and his creatures. She’d killed a god, in that battle. Killed one god and threatened another. “Do try not to die. I’d hate to have to find a new royal consort.”

A snort. “I’ve no intention of dying today. I want to see you on the throne of that city.” A pause. “I’ve always had rather a fantasy, actually, of you on the throne of freshly conquered city, and me on my knees…”

Oh. Well. That did sound interesting. She gave him an appraising look. “Have you? You could have said something.”

“Well. It’s always been so busy when we’re breaching a stronghold, and things were all happening so fast at the time. You were so intent; I wasn’t sure you’d take it well.” A shrug. “Early days of us and all. By the time I knew better, you had the North in line again, and when we fought the Fallen One there weren’t many strongholds to breach or thrones to make use of.”

That was fair. “I’m going to hold you to that.” She said thoughtfully, even as the great gates ground slowly open and ranks of fighting men on those two-legged sharp-toothed reptilian beasts began to file out. She eyed the gleaming lances they carried disapprovingly; those were, of course, going to be the first thing she did away with once things got going.

Using her power in pitched battles was risky; she did not like doing it to kill. Not more than needed. But shattering some lances was no issue at all.

He grinned, that familiar and beloved flash of white teeth against that dark beard. “Oh, excellent.” He shot the enemy cavalry a look, and then looked back at her and raised an eyebrow. She nodded once. He leaned over, and she leaned to meet him; they exchanged a kiss, brief but sweet, and he peeled his kaiila away and headed to take command of the left flank.

She looked back over the prairie. There were several thousand riders now, forming ranks. A few men wearing particularly gleaming armor with extra gold leaf seemed to be conferring in a huddle; she waited.

“Ubara?” Dina said softly, from her side. “Ubara, should we…” There was nervousness in her voice.

“Not yet.” Systlin was the veteran of many battles of this scale; Myr was much larger than Turia, and that had been only the first city she’d taken. Dina was not. Even in a seasoned warrior, nerves before battle were normal, but Dina had taken up a spear only a year and a half past. She’d fought and killed, but the other tribes and towns and cities they’d taken were nothing on the scale of Turia. “They’ll send someone to talk, like all the others have. I’ll either kill him or send him back, like all the other times. I’ll break their lances; that will be the signal to charge.”

She looked to her side. Dina’s face was drawn tight. Systlin remembered that Dina, before slave chains, had once been a free woman, and had been born in Turia.

“You have a father, don’t you?” Systlin said, more softly.

“I do.” She whispered. “He never took a slave. He loved my mother, a Free Companion, and never took a slave; he has mourned her since her death. He is of the baker’s caste, as was my mother. He makes sweet rolls and gives them to children, and the best bread and pastries. I do not brag; he was famous in the city, and rich women and men came to buy from us. He and my brothers and I worked hard and were proud of our work.” She paused a moment. “I do not know if my brothers have taken slaves. And if they have…” Another, longer pause, and she looked away. “If they have, I will not beg mercy for them, but I will mourn what they might have been had their minds not been poisoned.”

Systlin thought of her own brother, dead so young. Of laughing and competing and playing with him, of the friendly fighting between close siblings. Of his smile and his laugh, and his sharp wit. She wondered, if her place and Dina’s had been switched, if she could have watched him killed for slaving and rape.

She probably could have. She knew it in the deepest place in her heart, where she worried sometimes at her own coldness. She probably would have done it with her own hands, at that. She’d executed her uncle and aunt with her own hands, in that battle to bring the warring lords tearing the North to bloody scraps to heel. But she was a famously hard and coldhearted bitch when it came to matters of justice, as any noble in the North of Ellinon would tell. “The Iron Bitch”, she knew they called her behind her back. “The Iron Bitch with the frozen heart.”

She’d have done it, yes. But she’d have mourned intensely after, for what might have been.

Dina was loyal and dear to her, a good friend. But if her brothers were rapists and slavers, Systlin knew that even if Dina begged, she would not grant mercy unless the offended girls asked it. It ran counter to everything in her to do so.

Goddess of Justice. The Lady’s voice whispered in her head.

Fuck off, she thought in return. I’ve shit to do.

“We can hope,” she said. “That they take after your father. And we’re not here to loot; if your father is in his shop and not with the fighting men, he’s quite safe.”

That seemed to ease Dina slightly. The woman was still used to the Gorean idea of war, where taking a city meant sacking it utterly, looting and burning and slaving. No army under Systlin’s command would ever fight so, though. She’d kill the soldiers responsible with her bare hands.

“Baker’s caste,” Dina said. “Do not fight, not unless they must. They will not be on the walls. Those on the walls and on the field here are warrior caste.”

Systlin would have to investigate this caste system more thoroughly. She did not like the idea on principle, but it seemed a force of social stability that most Goreans were very attached to. From what she’d gathered there were provisions for moving through castes if one wished. However, she’d heard that some, such as weavers and spinners, were considered ‘low caste’.

Systlin had attempted such tasks before; her mother was fond of spinning and weaving, though she was Queen Mother and needed never touch a spindle if she didn’t wish. After fifteen minutes spent at it, Systlin had come to the conclusion that the work that went into cloth was absurdly complicated and skilled, and had never touched a spindle since. She did, however, have a reputation for never haggling when it came to buying cloth or paying her seamstresses.

Low caste her arse. The idea of any of the most essential tasks…potters, farmers, fishermen, herders…being lower than any others raised her hackles. Perhaps the idea of low or high caste could go…

Across the grassland, a small party of men, led by one of the men in gleaming gold-chased armor began to ride towards them. Systlin put aside other concerns and nodded once to Dina, who nodded back and went to lead the right flank.

Her kaiila could sense that battle was coming, and shifted under her, tossing her head in eagerness. Systlin held her steady, and waited.

They headed, of course, for Foicatch. Systlin sighed and rolled her eyes, and nudged her kaiila forward. The creature sprang forward in that long, loping predator stride, and she headed them off in moments. They glared at her, all hostile intent. She regarded them in what was probably a dismissive manner, but so far as she was concerned these men were already dead. They were nothing that she had not seen on this world already, in the smaller towns that lay outside Turia. She’d killed a thousand like them since coming here.

“You know full well that I lead this army.” She said bluntly. “You’ve heard the stories.” She sighed. “It makes me curious…”

“Stories of trickery and nonsense about sorcery.” The man with the glittering armor said loftily. “A few villages might fall to some unnatural woman, but this is Turia. We will not be afraid of a tribe of women who think themselves the equals of men.”

“…As I was saying,” Systlin raised her voice slightly. “It makes me curious as to the full degree which you, meaning men on this world, are capable of deluding yourselves. I’ve been halfway through conquering towns and tribes and the men would still be telling me that I couldn’t hope to carry through, because I was but a woman.” She shook her head. “Almost sad, really. I’ve an army of  twenty five thousand camped before your gates. I know you have heard the stories of how I’ve conquered cities across the prairies and brought all the tribes of the Wagon People under my rule. I am Ubara-Sana of the plains, by my own hand, and I’ve crushed every force sent against me. And yet here you are, still claiming the same old tired thing.”

She looked him in the eyes. “This is the part where, if you are smart, you will confer with your people and you will open the gates, lay down your arms, and have a chance to survive this.”

He scoffed. Entirely predictably. “This is Turia, woman. The plainsfolk may not have been able to humble you, but Turia will. We’ve ten thousand cavalry, and that is not counting the fighting men on foot. You and your slave girls with swords can batter yourselves to ribbons against us, and we’ll put collars on those of you not killed.” A slow, lewd smile, because apparently he felt he hadn’t dug his own grave deep enough. “Maybe I’ll put mine on you, woman, and teach you to obey a master’s word.”

“Well.” Systlin shrugged. “I did give you a chance.”

She’d learned knife throwing from Stellead, but the Arms Master of the Bloodguard had been dubious of its effectiveness and the instruction had only been basic. It was at the Iron Mountain, under the tutelage of the master assassins of the Master of Knives, that she’d learned how to properly throw a knife.

She’d killed the Master of Knives, of course. He’d taken the contract on her father, and sent out one of his Shadow Hands to kill a king. She’d killed the Brother of Shadow who’d wielded the knife, as well, and many others besides. The Iron Mountain stood empty now, the bones of those she’d killed gathering dust in the halls.

Her knife took the golden-armored warrior through the eye. He looked quite shocked as he slid from the saddle and fell. His men started in rage, and went for their lances.

Systlin smiled at them. Her power rose, a cold sweep through her bones, tingling under her skin. She raised her hand, and flicked her fingers negligently at them, mostly for show.

Their lances shattered into splinters. So did at least five thousand other lances of the leading ranks of the famed thalarion cavalry of Turia.

A great confused sound went up, and thalarion shied at the strange scent of Power in the air, sharp as ozone. And as fighting men scrambled for their secondary weapons, Systlin’s forces charged.

Ice took the first man before her just under the chin. She didn’t quite behead him as her coal-black kaiila shot past, but slashed the big artery on his neck open. Blood pumped, and the sound he made as he fell was a terrible gurgle.

She wheeled her mount and ducked the frantic sweep of a sword. The riders were startled, off balance, and that was death when facing a warrior of her caliber. Her kaiila darted in and took the throat of one of the slower High Thalarions, tearing it open. The beast went down, and its rider with it. Systlin kneed the sides of her kaiila and it leapt; the final warrior managed to parry her first blow, a slicing cut at his neck.

She twisted her wrist, reversed the grip on Ice’s hilt with a little twist and clever movement of her fingers that Stellead had made her practice ten thousand times, and drove it into his chest under his ribs. Drew it back with a sharp jerk as she wheeled her kaiila again, and flipped it back around in her hand. She did not have to think about the motion; she had not missed the catch on the twist since she had been a child training under Arms Master Stellead.

Then her kaiila was running, and she pushed it hard for a few paces until she regained her place leading the center. Lances glittered to either side of her, and she felt a fierce pride in the women she’d trained.

She eyed the gates of Turia, behind the regrouping lines of thalarion cavalry. Arrows arched from behind, as her mounted archers began picking off the front ranks of the Turian forces as they came into range.

Arrows returned, from on top of the walls, and one bounced off of her wraithen-scale armor. She lashed out with her power, still simmering under her skin, and five hundred bows shattered. Cries of dismay went up a second time.

She eyed the great gates of Turia, even as her kaiila gathered itself to leap and the first of her lance-fighters neared the front lines of the Turian cavalry. She eyed them for a half a second before she hit the front lines of the Turians, and she Broke them.

The great gates of Turia, and fifty feet of the wall to either side, crumbled into splinters and sand. There was a great cry of horror and dismay from the city, and cries of “UBARA! UBARA!” from her own warriors, delighted.

And then her front line was smashing into the Turian cavalry, and there was no more time for thought.

The Turians were skilled, but they were off balance, had lost the advantage of their long lances, and had not truly been expecting a proper fight. Systlin and her best lancers hit them like a hammer, and pierced deep into the ranks before the Turians quite knew it was happening. The Turians were down to swords now, and only a few of the rear ranks still had lances. Systlin’s riders had long lances with reach, and their kaiila were faster and more nimble than the high thalarion the Turians rode.

And, of course, they had her.

Systlin was no stranger to mounted combat. She’d ridden with the tribes of the desert at Sura’s side for years, and was as deft a hand at mounted combat as any Rider. She’d never have been accepted, otherwise.

It felt, she had to admit, as she turned a sword aside with Ice and flicked the sword around, down, and up, taking off the man’s sword hand at the wrist, very good to be at it again. The man screamed, but she was past him. A lance glanced off of her armor, and she wheeled her kaiila. The beast snapped, catching a leg, and tore the man off of his mount. His thalarion turned and went for her mount, but her kaiila shook its head and was leaping away before it could do any damage.

Systlin fought with all the skill and speed and cunning she had. She fought viciously, the whole time willing that her army would not fail now, would not quail because this battle was larger and closer-fought than any before. She willed it, imagining that she could throw wide her arms and take under her shadow all of her proud free mounted warriors, and through sheer will alone keep them fighting.

And she did what she had always done, in battle. She led on the front line, and fought like nothing the Turians had ever seen before. Men rose before her and men fell; she was past Power now, and killed with pure hard-won skill and naked steel. She cut faces, necks, torsos, limbs. Ice’s blue-tinged blade was purple with blood, and blood spattered her all over. She killed, and killed, with all the skill of those long hours of training and decades more of fighting for her life. She fought, and killed, her blood sang with it.

You were never made for peace. The Lady’s words. It was true; she knew it was true. She loved battle, though she knew it spoke of her basically coldhearted and vicious nature that she did. She was a warrior born and trained and blooded, and she was at home on the killing field.

She’d fought three wars, leading from the front. She’d won each, and the sight of her at the forefront of her warriors, in her element, bloody and screaming and bringing death with her, was absolute horror to the men of Gor.

The sight that horrified the men of Turia stiffened the spines of her warriors, and to the endless horror of the men of Turia, the former slave girls, now screaming warriors with lances and swords, cut into them with a fury they’d never seen.

With her at their front, her mounted warriors smashed the Turian lines apart, just as the left flank led by Foicatch drove hard at the gap left at the rear, pushing the cavalry of Turia away from the broken gates and cutting them off from retreat into the city. Foicatch himself set himself in the middle of the smashed gate, and Systlin caught glimpses of him engaged in fierce close fighting now and then as foot soldiers pressed forward from the city to try and relieve the cavalry she was driving like a herd of sheep across the prairies before Turia.

But the fighting men of Turia were skilled, and proud, and they began to regroup. Men were shouting orders, and the remaining lances managed to form up defensive lines. The fighting grew vicious, even after Systlin Broke more lances, and their advance ground to a crawl. Their armies were nearly matched; Systlin’s warrior women had better armor and better reach, but the Turian fighting men had more experience, and it began to show as they got their feet under them. Systlin’s troops fought like mad wildcats, and she was so proud; they were still winning forward, inch by inch, but she was not about to spend more lives than she had to.

The Turians began to press back, and her advance ground to a halt. Systlin smiled, because she heard the galloping of the kaiila, and knew.

Dina’s mounted archers swept past, and the women turned on their kaiilas with those short but powerful recurve bows of wood and bosk horn. Strings slid from thumb rings, and three thousand arrows hammered home through that light leather armor that the men of this world favored. The kaiilas wheeled, and the women turned again, as they’d practiced a thousand times, sitting backwards on their mounts. Strings sang again, and arrows flew as thick as rain.

Turians died. Systlin yelled and plunged forward again, and to shouts of “UBARA! UBARA! WHIP-BURNER! CHAIN-STRIKER!” her warriors followed.

The Turians had nowhere to retreat from Dina’s archers, except back onto the lances of Systlin’s mounted spear-women. No rescue came from Turia; Foicatch was stacking the bodies of fighting men four deep in the ruin of the shattered gates.

The fighting outside the city drug out a big longer; it took time to slaughter ten thousand cavalry and their mounts. But caught between Dina’s wheeling mounted archers and their storm of arrows and the lances of Systlin’s cavalry and Systlin’s own sword, they were cut to bits.

It was then that Systlin regrouped her lancers and led them to the shattered gates, where the foot soldiers of Turia were approaching more cautiously than before. The shattered gates themselves were a charnel house; fighting men and women both lay dead alongside wounded and dead and shrieking kaiila, and blood was red over the stones of the road and the rubble of the gates and walls. Foicatch and his warriors held, and the fighting men of Turia seemed reluctant to approach within reach of Foicatch’s sword.

They parted to let Systlin through, and her lancers flowed around to guard the sides of the ranks of warriors.

Systlin joined Foicatch at the front lines. She must look a terrible sight; she was head to toe blood and mud, the colors of her wraithen armor dulled under the coating. Foicatch’s own set of wraithen scale armor was similarly filthy. There was a cut high on his temple, a glancing blow that was not serious but bleeding freely. Even as she joined him she felt a trickle of Power as he flicked droplets of blood away from his eyes.

A lull in the fighting; the soldiers of Turia drew back, appalled at the sight. Foicatch eyed her, gaze flicking head to toe to check her for injuries. She gave him a slight reassuring shake of her head, doing the same to him. The cut on his temple seemed to be the worst of it. She turned to eye the soldiers before them.

“Your cavalry,” Systlin informed the fighting men before them. “Are dead. My throat slitters are making short work of any survivors this very moment. You did not hear the offer I made before, I think, so I will make it one more time. Lay your weapons down now, and you may find mercy. I will not give you another chance.”

Not one fighting man moved, save for the one who yelled in defiance, pulled a knife from his boot, and hurled it at her head.

It was a good throw, she thought, as she twisted her head to the side even as his hand swept up with the blade. It was a good throw. Had she not been taught by Stellead and the Shadow Hands of the Iron Mountain, it might have struck home. As it was, it simply scraped her cheekbone in passing; a shallow cut that would heal quickly and cleanly.

Answer enough, she supposed. Foicatch was already moving, and fell on the knife-thrower with a single-minded viciousness that was poetry to see. Systlin was moving almost as quickly, and that was where the battle in the city began.

It was nasty work. Street by street, driving the fighting men before them. Many of the freed slaves in Systlin’s forces had been from Turia, and as planned they now took the lead. As Systlin had suspected, their knowledge of the city was invaluable; meeting places and baths where warriors gathered were found out. Attacks from small alleys were anticipated. Cobbles went slick with blood. A nasty dagger opened a long cut into Systlin’s left forearm, and some of the slick blood under their boots and the kaiila’s paws was her own. She bound it with a strip torn from her own shirt, cinching the knot tight with her teeth, and pressed on.

Turia was a city of millions; it took hours to work their way through, even with the size of her army. It was late afternoon when at last she realized that any warriors found out were fleeing rather than fighting, and being quickly ridden down by archers. Systlin stopped, at last, sitting high on her kaiila, and knew that she was Ubara of Turia, and by extension all of the plains in truth, by right of conquest.

Dina was staying close now, guiding them through the streets. She saw the same realization dawn on Dina’s face; Foicatch was already smiling that grim satisfied smile she remembered well.

“Take me to the throne of Turia.” Systlin said, and Dina did.

The first drops of the storm hit the bloody dust and thunder growled low when the reached the great palace of Turia. It was in a vast central building, half law chambers and half a throne hall. It was all in the same white stone that the city seemed to favor, with a great dome over the hall where the Thrones of Turia sat. They were very fine; there was, Systlin was sure, wood somewhere under the silver and inlaid semiprecious stones, but it was difficult to make out. She left footprints of blood and mud across the spotless tiled floors.

She’d made instructions clear before the first spear was lifted; her warriors knew what to do. One part of being a leader, her father had said long ago. Is finding competent people that you trust, and then trusting them to do their jobs without your having to hang over their shoulder.

He’d been right. Her people were competent, and she did trust them. So while she waited for her warriors to ferret out the various guild and caste leaders and other important persons, Systlin ascended the nine steps to the dais…it was gorgeously carpeted, and inlaid with ivory and gold…and sat herself down in the larger throne, the throne of the Ubar of Turia.

Foicatch eyed her. There was an answering warm pulse that went down her spine and pooled insistently between her legs; there was nothing like battle to get the blood up. But…She raised her eyebrows back at him. “Not yet.” She said, somewhat reluctantly, and motioned with her chin at the smaller throne, the throne where traditionally the Ubara sat. “Not quite yet. It’s not properly conquered until I explain things to the important people, is it?”

“I suppose not.” But his eyes were lingering on her lips, and slid down over the length of her legs and the curve of her hip even so. She could feel the heat of it, and dearly wished to answer it.

But it was about at that point that people…some of them bedraggled, some begging and pleading, some silent and apparently numbly shocked into silence, all led by her fierce and triumphant warrior women, began to file into the great throne chamber. All were drenched; Systlin could hear rain rattling against the roof now, and thunder rumbling quite often.

They stared. Systlin knew what she must look like. She sat, and waited. Her shoulder ached; she’d been slammed into a wall at one point, and probably had a spectacular bruise. Her arm where she’d been cut stung. Her muscles burned from exertion; she’d been fighting on and off for hours. The cut on her cheek had scabbed, and pulled when she moved or spoke.

None of it mattered. Victory was pounding in her veins along the adrenaline. Even now, she knew, her warriors were removing chains from slaves; she could taste it on the air, and it was as sweet as honeyed wine.  

Goddess of justice and war.

She ignored the voice of the Lady whispering.

Dina was conferring with the other women native to Turia. They looked fearsome; all were armored and armed and bloody. Most of the blood, to Systlin’s immense pride, was not their own. They had wounds, true, but most were not serious, and every warrior will earn scars. They were standing and moving and speaking with a new edge of confidence that had not been there even this morning, and Systlin knew why.

Stories would be told of this, she knew. Stories would be told, and the warriors who’d fought with her to take Turia would be legend in their own right. And they knew it as well; had proved something to themselves that could never be taken away.

Yes, these warrior women would say, years from now. Yes, of course I know of the Fall of Turia. I was there. I fought at the Ubara’s side. There would be looks then, as awed as any Systlin herself had ever received, and she knew in her bones how the legends would be told in decades to come.

Dina of Turia, who led the Ubara’s archers and broke the Turian cavalry with the Ubara.

Sabra of Turia, the first of all who had her chains struck off, who rode with her lance at the Ubara’s side, in her honor guard, and who fought so fiercely that none could stand before her. Never in the battle for the city did she leave the Ubara’s side, and she walked through blood ankle-deep that day.

Hula of Turia, Doreen of Turia, Hireena of the Tuchuks. Tamra of Ar…

The list went on and on, and pride was a bright warmth in her chest.

Dina said something to Sabra, who nodded and turned to cross the hall and climb the steps. Systlin remembered that first day; Sabra clutching, terrified, at her sleeve. There was little trace of the frightened and beaten slave girl now; Sabra was one of her best with a spear, and she wore thick bosk-hide armor sewn with metal plates. Her arms and shoulders were strong, and her blonde hair braided tightly back. There was blood and mud crusted in it, and a vicious bruise showing around one eye. Her nose had been broken at some point, and hastily reset,. The dried blood from it was still on her chin. She was smiling a smile of victory.

“Ubara sana.” She said. “The guild leaders, councilors, and other important leaders of the city are assembled.”

“Thank you, Sabra.” Systlin smiled back, just as fierce. “And well fought. Fierce as a she-panther.”

The grin widened. “Thank you, Ubara-sana!”

“I told you,” Systlin said, still smiling. “You doubted me, but here you stand. When I secure the treasury, you are to take as much as you can carry, as a mark of my esteem. I name you now to my personal guard, for as long as you desire the post, but you must promise to tell me if you ever wish to leave. You were the first to have her chains thrown off, and I’ve no wish to ever bind you with others.”

Sabra blinked rapidly, and Systlin realized that she was blinking back tears. “I will, Ubara sana.” She said. “But I do not think that day will come.”

“Well. If it does, let me know. And I’ve another duty for you; you were the first to take up weapons, even before Dina. If you will, once things settle more in a few days, go among the women of Turia and tell them your story. And if any of them wish it, bring them to me, and help me train them as warriors, as you trained yourself.”

A light like fever lit in Sabra’s eyes. “Ubara sana,” she whispered. “You honor me, and I will do this.”

“You won your honor yourself, with your own hands and by your own actions.” Systlin said. “I merely handed you the tools to do so. Bring them all forward, then.”

Foicatch, she realized, was staring at her with an intensity that was scorching.

“You will never have any idea,” he breathed, very quietly, as her warriors herded the frightened rich and powerful of the city to the base of the raised dais the thrones sat upon, “the effect you have on people. What it’s like to see, from the outside.”

“Hush.” She murmured back, just as softly. “You’re biased.”

“I am. But I’m also right. Every woman in your forces would have followed you to the death this morning, but after this they’d follow you past it as well.”

“Hmm.” She allowed, but it was a pleased sound. “I try only to be what they deserve.”

“Yes.” He said. “Yes, and that’s why.”

She eyed the small crowd at the foot of the dais. They were frightened and soaked from the storm, bedraggled and sullen.

“Foicatch, darling.” She said. “Our guests appear to be soaked. Could you give them a hand?”

He made an agreeable sound and lifted a hand. She tasted Power on the back of her tounge, ozone and burnt cinnamon.

There were gasps and screams as the water streamed and spiraled off of the huddled leaders of Turia. Foicatch pulled it into a hovering globe above his hand, and then rather negligently flicked it aside. It splashed to the tiles, leaving the people in the crowd quite dry.

Dina clicked her tounge against her teeth. “Are you all sorcerers, on your world?” A year and a half of following Systlin, one of the strongest fire witches and the strongest Breaker ever to live, had rubbed the novelty off of seeing Power worked.

“Not all of us.” Systlin lifted a shoulder. “But a good many.”

“My mother’s a stronger water witch than me,” Foicatch said absently. “I’ve only half her gift.”

“Wait until you see him really angry,” Systlin said. “And see him tear the water from a man’s blood.”

“I have.” That was Hireena, herding the Turians forward. Her voice was low, and she looked at Foicatch with deep respect. “At the gates, as we fought.”

“Did you?” She said, with interest. Systlin had seen it done before. It had been….compelling. Hmmmm.

Later. Later. More important things first.

“Turia.” She said, her voice clear. “I greet you.”

Furious, frightened faces looked up at her. Mutters went around. Systlin remembered well what she’d been told.

“I greet you,” she said. “As Ubara Sana of the plains, won by my own hand. But of course, you are Turian, and the power in Turia lies with the merchants.”

“It is so.” One veiled woman said. She was looking up curiously; her robes were of exquisitely fine silks, and embroidered with gold. Pearls hung from the edges of her sleeves, and crystal beads glittered across her gown.

“That,” said Systlin. “May change. I understand, of course, that you’ve already well established trade routes, and I’ve no wish to interfere with them. But I am Ubara Sana now, and the old laws will change. You may have heard that, on the plains, slave chains have been outlawed, and all slaves freed. It is true, and as of this moment by my decree every slave in Turia is freed.”

There was a roar of arguments and shouting and disapproving noises.

“…cannot simply…”

“…My business is slaves! How am I to…”

“…an outrage!...”

Systlin waited them out, patient. As she did, another of the Turian women jogged in through the great door; the rain had washed away most of the mud and blood, but she was limping, a strip of cloth bound around one thigh. She murmured something to Dina, who nodded once and took the nine steps up to the dais two at a time.

“There is a problem.” Dina said. “Saphrar, a wealthy merchant, one of the leaders of the Merchant’s Caste in the city. He’s a fortified compound, and has walled himself up with his mercenary forces.”

“Tell everyone to pull back.” Systlin said at once. “Keep an eye on the compound; let no one escape. After I finish here, I’ll come and tend to his gates myself.”

Dina smiled thinly, and went back down, murmured this to the other woman. The other woman grinned like a wolf, and hurried out, swift despite her wounded leg.

“Have you all finished?” Systlin raised her voice above the crowd.

“I will contract with the Guild of Assassins for this!” A man with thick dark hair and wearing gold and white robes said furiously. He had a hand raised and was shaking a finger at the sky. “I’ll have your head in my vault. I swear it on the Priest-Kings! “

“I take it that you deal in slaves,” Systlin said dryly.

“I do! It is an honorable trade, and I have been dealing in slave meat for…”

Systlin nodded at Dina, who moved quickly. Her knife gleamed, and the man’s throat opened ear to ear. A gurgle, and a red rush of blood, and utter shocked silence.

“Slavery,” Systlin said mildly. “Is one of the greatest crimes, and slavers are condemned to death. Those who procure and deal in slaves for their own wealth are doubly damned. Throw his body to the kaiila; they must be hungry after the fight. What was his name?”

Silence.

“I asked,” Systlin said, voice going cold. “For his name. I expect an answer.”

Another moment of silence dragged out, and then…“Kazrak.” The veiled woman who’d spoken before said. “Kazrak of the Merchant Caste. His mansion is next to mine, and his warehouse is in the low streets, near the slave market.”

“Did he have a Free Companion, any children?”

“Both.”

“Then half of his estate shall go to them, and they shall maintain their home. The other half of his assets are forfeit, and will be redistributed between his slaves, who are now free.” Systlin raised an eyebrow. “Might I have your name?”

“Aphris.” Said the woman. “Of the Merchant Caste. I deal in silks and wine, not people.” She shot a somewhat vicious look at the dead Kazrak, as he was dragged off, leaving a smear of red on the tiles. “And he was cruel, and it does my heart good to see justice done him. I take it then that we, the free women of Turia, are not to be put in slave chains?”

“Bloody pits, no.” Systlin said, repulsed.

“I did not think so.” Aphris said, cool and collected, a point of calm in the angry and terrified crowd. “But many freewomen feared the worst. It is, after all, how war has been done on Gor for a very long time. You can understand the worry.”

It was a reasonable worry, Systlin supposed. “Of course. But have no fear, no hand will be raised against you. You are free, and will remain free. Aside from that, by my laws it will be punishable by death if anyone, from anywhere, ever attempted to enslave you, and I would hunt that man down and kill him for daring to put chains on one of my subjects.”

There were many free women in the crowd, and at the words there was sort of a sigh that ran through them, and a sense of some great tension lifted. The men looked startled. Systlin gestured, taking in the concealing robes all of the free women wore.

“It is no longer required,” she continued. “That you wear full Robes of Concealment in public. A free woman may dress as she likes and go where she likes. If you feel more comfortable in your robes, of course, then you are welcome to wear them, but it is not required. If you choose to set them aside and experience difficulty from anyone, you may make a formal complaint and the matter will be dealt with. I will make people and resources available to deal with such matters.”

A murmur. More looks of outrage from the men.

“Many,” Aphris said. “Will welcome this. But for myself, Ubara, I think I will choose to wear the robes, at least for some time longer.”

“Of course.” Systlin inclined her head. “And I am afraid, of course, that Turia will be judged.”

“Judged?” One man snapped. “Like you judged Kazrak?”

“Yes. Precisely how I judged Kazrak.” Systlin smiled unpleasantly. “There are three great crimes; the murder of an innocent who has done no harm, the rape of another, and enslaving another. The penalty for all three is death.”

Silence. Dead, horrified silence. And then,

“You cannot mean,” another man said, carefully. “That every man who held a slave will be killed.”

“No.” Systlin shook her head. Sighs of relief, but she continued. “Because some slaves, for whatever reason, beg mercy for those who held them. It will be up to any slaves you hold what your fate is. But,” and she grinned again, more horribly. “If a single slave you’ve held and raped chooses death for you, I will put a knife in her hand and hold you down myself for the sentence.”

“What.”

“You cannot mean…”

“Not all…”

“All.” Systlin said, merciless. “Every man in Turia. If a freewoman held male slaves…I’m told it happens…then her life is forfeit as well. I will not abide it. Have no fear; I will establish many courts to see to it. It will take us months to work through the city, but it will be done. And those of you who are guilty, I will hang your bones from the white walls as a warning.”

“You,” Said one man, who had until then been silent, staring angry daggers at her from the front of the crowd. His robes, she noted, were the finest in the room, and edged in purple. “Are mad.”

“Not the first time I’ve been called that.” Systlin said easily. She looked him over, matching up features with descriptions. “Phanius Turmus, I presume?”

“Ubar of Turia.” He confirmed, chin high. “You are defiling my throne, woman.”

“You were.” She shook her head. “But you lost. You’re simply Phanius now, and you’ll be judged with the rest.”

“I think that perhaps I shall contract with the Assassin’s Caste for your head.” He didn’t flinch or break eye contact. “Your head would look well in my vaults, I agree with Kazrak.”

“Oh, please do. I ought to make their acquaintance. It’s been some time since I trained with the assassins of my own world, and tore their master’s throat out with my knife. So yes please, do. It would be an exciting challenge.”

Foicatch sighed resignedly. “Really, love?”

Phanius was giving her a stare of pure and utter horror. “What are you?” He almost whispered. “What terrible hell did you crawl from, to plague us? Have you no respect for those of high caste?”

“My mother would be terribly offended by calling her a ‘terrible hell’.” She made steady eye contact with each person in her horrified and enraptured audience. “The terrible hell is her sister, who taught me to fight. And no. Every caste. From low to high. All will be judged the same. If any have offended in these ways, I will see justice done upon them. No one is exempt.”

“You’ll kill thousands!” One man cried. “Tens of thousands!”

“Oh,” Systlin said, cold as steel in winter. “Hundreds of thousands, I expect.”

“You cannot…”

“Poor choice of words.” Foicatch sighed again. “I could have warned you; there’s no better way to get her to do something than to tell her, earnestly, that she can’t.”

Systlin stood, and let Power rise. Not the terrible cold of Breaking, but her other gift, hot and furious and wild. Fire bloomed around her for a moment, and was gone too quickly to set fire to her clothes. But it had the desired effect. Silence fell. Horrified silence.

“I am not bargaining with you.” She said softly. “I am not suggesting. I am not your old Ubar. I stand here by right of conquest. I breached your walls and killed my way to this throne, and I am going to kill a great deal many more before I am through. The merchants and caste-masters are not ruling Turia any longer; I am.”

She moved a step down, drawing closer to them. “To put this in terms you understand, which I gathered from women you had kidnapped from a world not yours and forced into slavery; you had best get used to this new way, or you will die. I am telling you how things now are. You can flee the city, if you wish, but I will not stop here and I will find you. Be it when I take Ar, or Ko-Ro-Ba, or any other city, I will come. I am going to end slavery on this world, and I fully expect to do it at the point of a sword. I am Ubara Sana of the plains. I rule this city now. These are the great crimes that will be punished, and how they will be punished. This matter is not open for negotiation. If you dislike these words, you are free to take them up with any of the twenty thousand of my soldiers in your city. They’ll be thrilled to discuss them, I am sure.” She descended another step. “Until the courts are established and judging begins, no one is to leave the city. I control the entirety of the plains and other bands of my warriors have seized trade routes. I have the wealth of Turia at my disposal; you will not go hungry. And now, you are free to return to your homes; I have things yet to do tonight. One of you has decided to fight tooth and nail; I’m off to crack him out of his nutshell. Dismissed.”

She swept past, not looking back, and felt their eyes on her back as she went.

[hiccanna-tidbits]

this is a genuine, curious question! what's appealing 2 u about jackunzel :^] ??

Sure, I can talk about why I ship Jackunzel!!!

@gryffindorkxdraws has some posts about why she likes Jackunzel here, here, and here, so those are a pretty good rundown of reasons to supplement mine. But I’ll make a list of my own!

Why Jackunzel Owns My Entire Soul: An Essay in Disorganized Bullet Points ~I dig the sun/moon symbolism! Like Jack was chosen by the moon and Rapunzel has the powers of the sun. It’s such a nice contrast, and it also lends itself really well to star-crossed lover-type fantasy/fairy tale AUs (which I am ALWAYS a sucker for!) ~From what little we know about Jack’s preference in girls (i.e. the slight crush he seemed to have on Tooth), Rapunzel seems like EXACTLY his type--bubbly, energetic, optimistic girls with a bit of a maternal streak. I think even the RotG director confirmed Punz is the kind of girl Jack would like! ~Jack also absolutely seems like Punzel’s type--if Flynn/Eugene is anything to go by, she’s kind of into sarcastic troublemakers with a hidden soft side XD And she also seems to like guys who are good with kids, if Eugene reading “The Adventures of Flynnigan Rider” to the younger kids at the orphanage is anything to go by! ~They both seem to be naturally pretty social people who suffered a lot from being isolated for a really long time--Jack had it worse, obviously (300 years--OUCH), but it was rough on Punz as well, growing up for 18 years with no one for company but Mother Gothel and Pascal. Jack, spending all that time with no one able to see him and only the guardians (who weren’t even really his friends from much of that time) for company, would understand that pain a lot. I feel like they’d be able to connect on a really deep and intimate level about the pain they felt at being isolated for so long, and this would give them a really strong bond that I can easily see turning into something romantic. ~They’re both just such genuinely lively and fun-loving people, and I can imagine them having a ton of fun together and just genuinely really enjoying spending time together. Like imagine the snowball fights!!! The ice-skating!!! The sledding!!! Chasing each other through the forest!!! Jack grabbing onto Punz and her wrapping her hair around a tree and swinging them around Tarzan-style!!! Like literally the entire scene where Punzel leaves her tower for the first time and is goofing off and doing Silly Shit for like an hour straight??? Like man...if Jack was there, they’d have the TIME OF THEIR LIVES together. Idk I just really love couples who I think would have a lot of fun together, it’s so pure <3 ~They’re both so loving!!! Like Rapunzel goes out of her way to be supportive to an entire tavernful of terrifying “ruffians and thugs” because they have dreams, and she’s so sweet to Flynn/Eugene no matter how many times he snarks at her and tries to alienate her!!! And Jack loves loves LOVES entertaining kids, and it genuinely makes him so happy to give them snow days :3 I just feel like they’d shower each other with love, and it’s honestly no less than they both deserve!!! ~Rapunzel especially is such an affectionate person, and I can see her doing just absolutely everything in her power to make Jack feel as seen and as loved as possible after 300 years of being alone. And god, does he NEED it, too. Like no way is this boy NOT touch-starved, and with some MAJOR self-esteem issues (although he’s good at hiding them). Rapunzel would do absolutely everything in her power to build him up and make him feel wanted and validated--and since it’s in her nature to do so, it would never feel like a burden or an effort for her. And she’d love him so much that hyping him up just comes naturally! She’s just got the kind of nurturing personality that someone as affection-starved as Jack really needs, and I think she could help him feel safe, comfortable, and loved in a way a lot of people couldn’t. ~For all the fun they’d have together, I also feel like Jack needs someone to ground him a bit and provide the Brain Cell to perhaps reign in that Unchecked Chaotic Energy of his sometimes XD Rapunzel certainly has a smart and rational side--I mean, she charted STARS as a teenager!!! She figured out how to get this stranger she captured to take her into the kingdom to see the lanterns!!! Girl can be spontaneous and goofy, sure, but she’s got smarts and kind of a mature streak that I think mesh with Jack really well. He’d never feel like she was a wet blanket stifling his fun, but she’d also have a sense of when to transition away from goofing off and focus on responsibilities (princess and guardian responsibilities in this case, I suppose?) ~On the flipside, I don’t see Rapunzel as being someone annoyed or irritated by Jack’s antics. She might like...gently scold him if he takes a prank too far, but she never finds his shenanigans to be grating and tiresome the way other people might. Rather, I think she’d be endlessly entertained by him. Like in his memory reel when he’s dicking around pretending to be a deer, she’d get a kick out of that! Jack would always be trying to make her laugh and make her smile, and Punz would love that so much about him! ~They’re both searching for a deeper meaning and a deeper sense of purpose in their lives. Rapunzel entertains herself with hobbies, but doesn’t feel like her life has really “begun” and is desperate to find out if her hunch is right and the floating lights really ARE meant for her. Jack has no idea why he was chosen by the moon or what he’s meant to do, and he’s determined to find out so he can finally have a sense of purpose. Rapunzel clearly wants a sense of purpose too, since she wants to do more with her life than pass the time with hobbies. I can definitely see them bonding over this! ~They’re both just so adventurous, and love to explore! Rapunzel is curious, and loves to read and learn, and she wants more than anything else to see the world and all it has to offer. Jack loves adventuring and flying around the globe spreading winter and fun, and he could show Punz everything she ever wanted to see. A perfect match, honestly! ~Aesthetically I LOVE the similarities!!! Like they both like to go barefoot, kinda showing their free-spirited natures. And I love how they’re both naturally brunette, but had their hair turned a different color by magic. It’s a little thing, but I think it’s a really neat parallel and it helps cement me thinking they really ARE perfect for each other in every little way! Haha XD AND they both have small green companions, and as of Ralph Breaks The Internet, they’re hoodie buddies as well!!! Not that surface-level parallels like that are actually that significant BUT I just think they’re neat XD ~While I am fond of Flynnzel/Eugenzel (still my favorite canon Disney couple!), finding out their age gap is around 8 years admittedly made me a bit uncomfy and just pushed me further into loving Jackunzel as an alternative option. I still really love Eugene as a character and adore his and Punzel’s dynamic, but these days I prefer their relationship as more of a big bro/little sis type thing. Jack I think is the best match for Rapunzel romantically, and Eugene I prefer with Elsa--or poooossibly Tooth, Astrid, or Zarina, if I read a fic that sells the pairing well enough! ~On a related note, I was into Jack x Tooth the first time I watched RotG, but after discovering Jackunzel, there was no going back--I was hooked! Rewatching the movie, Tooth strikes me more as a mom figure/”fun aunt” for Jack, and I actually prefer her with Bunnymund (I am WEAK for “the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one” lmao)

Well, I think that just about covers it!!! I’ll add more reasons if I think of them! Thank you for the ask, and I’m always happy to answer more ship asks about CGI crossover pairings :3

Also @ the anon who asked for Jackunzel headcanons--fear not, I shall provide them!!! I just wanna make a complete list and accumulate all the ones from my various fics so it’s gonna take a while XD

[abuttoncalledsmalls]

Spring Blooms

Warnings: FLUFF - all of the tooth rotting fluff you can handle

Pairings: Marcus Pike x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1 K

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing for Marcus. Big ups to @yespolkadotkitty​ for all of her amazing beta-ing and encouragement.

“Are you nervous..?” You whispered into your fiancé’s ear. 

Marcus Pike looked at you with his deep amber eyes and chuckled. “It’s more of a nervous energy,” he confessed.

Your seven year old daughter, Elizabeth, sprinted ahead toward the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery. Sensing that you were not keeping up with her, she turned around to see you both lagging behind. She exhaled deeply and drudged over to you in the over-exaggerated way that only little girls can. 

“C’mon, Mom and Marcus! Don’t you wanna see the statues?”

“Lizzy, the sculptures aren’t going anywhere. I promise,” you assured her. 

“Sometimes it’s nice just to stop and smell the roses,” chimed in Marcus. 

Lizzy scanned the area looking for any type of flower. When she couldn’t spot any, she shot him a quizzical look.  “I don’t see any roses. How can I smell them if they aren’t any?” 

“It’s an expression, honey. It means to relax and enjoy life.” You took your hand and ruffled her bright red hair. 

She looked at you and nodded. “Oh.”

***

Marcus, Lizzy, and you decided to stop and smell the proverbial roses on that Saturday afternoon. It was a beautiful early spring day in Washington, D.C. Flowers were just beginning to bud and grass was starting to return to its emerald green hue. People were emerging from their homes, eager to shake off any somber remnants of winter.

Your day started with the time old tradition of sleeping in. Thankfully, Lizzy understood that sleeping in was a special treat for you. Instead of waking you up, she fixed herself a bowl of Frosted Flakes and watched cartoons. It was a win-win situation. You got an extra ninety minutes of sleep and she got to eat sugary cereal while watching TV.

After you woke up, Marcus came over to your small apartment. He had wanted you and Lizzy to move in with him for the longest time, but you kept holding off. You wanted to wait until you married to make that transition for yourself and your little girl. Marcus understood, but he regularly reminded you that the offer was always open.

“How are my two favorite girls?” he asked when he walked in the door.

“Marcus!” Lizzy lept from her spot on the couch to rush into his arms. “Guess what? Guess what? GUESS WHAT?”

“What? What? What, my dizzy Miss Lizzy?”

“I lost a baby tooth last night!”

“You did?” he replied with feigned surprise. He looked at you with a knowing smile. You had texted him the night before sharing Lizzy’s excitement.

“Yeah! And - and - Mom told me to leave the tooth under my pillow. I did and guess what? The tooth fairy came to visit me and she left me a whole dollar!”

“Wow! That’s awesome. I think we should go to brunch to celebrate. What do you think, Y/N?”

“Please Mom, can we?”

Two adorable pairs of eyes turned on you. You were powerless.

“I think that is a wonderful idea,” you began. “Give us thirty minutes to get ready?”

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll wait...”

As you went into your bedroom to get dressed, you overheard Lizzy and Marcus sharing a conversation about all of the pancakes they were going to eat. It warmed your heart to see the man that you loved and your little girl get on so well. He treated her as if she were his own - bringing small presents, helping with homework, sharing bedtime stories, and sometimes even cooking dinner. There wasn’t much that Marcus wouldn’t do for Lizzy. The way her face lit up whenever he’d agree on an activity she suggested made him melt. 

Watching the two of them together made you fall in love with him even more. If there was any doubt about Marcus being the one you wanted to spend your life with, it was washed away the moment you saw him with Lizzy.

You finished up dressing and walked out into the living room to find your daughter still dressed in her pajamas. She was sprawled out on the couch and watching a rerun of My Little Pony with Marcus. You walked in front of the television.

“Time to get dressed and ready, kiddo.” Lizzy began to whine.

“Elizabeth...” 

She continued to pout.

“C’mon, Lizzy. The sooner you get dressed, the sooner we can eat all of those pancakes and drink milkshakes,” Marcus added.

“Strawberry milkshakes with extra whipped cream?”

“Anything for the prettiest girls in the world. But, you have to listen to your mom and get dressed.”

Lizzy jumped up and dashed off to her bedroom. You went over to the couch and settled down to cuddle next to Marcus. He leaned in and the two of you shared a passionate kiss. 

“Mmm. That’s way better than any milkshake, Agent Pike.”

“I would agree, but I need one more just to make sure.” You giggled and the two of you shared another tender kiss. 

“Yep - much better than a milkshake,” he said. 

A wide smile crossed your lips. His large right hand came over to cover your left hand. The hand where your engagement ring would soon be. You had wanted to wait and wear it after both you and Marcus told Lizzy the news together. Initially you were a little worried that he would be offended at your request. As expected though, he proved himself to be the sweet and supportive man that you loved with all of your being. He understood your reasoning and was completely onboard with the plan. The two of you knew that Lizzy would be excited about the engagement, but you also knew that this would be a big change that she would have to adjust to.

“Do you want to tell her over brunch,” you asked while leaning your head on Marcus’s shoulder.

“I was thinking we’d do it somewhere else, but definitely today.”

“Hmmm. It sounds like my F.B.I. agent has a plan. Care to brief me on that?”

“That’s classified information, I’m afraid.”

“Fine, keep your secrets.” You went in to kiss his full lips again. Luck would have it that as the two of you pulled away, Lizzy came back into the living room. 

She scrunched up her face in disgust.  “Eww. Kissing.” 

Both you and Marcus laughed.

***

Brunch was lovely. The three of you went to a small hole-in-the-wall diner that was a ten minute walk from the National Gallery of Art. Marcus swore that they had the best silver dollar pancakes in all of D.C. As usual - he was correct. The tiny pancakes were delicious and buttery. Lizzy inhaled her portion quickly. She wanted more, but you had to cut her off to make sure that she left room for a fruit cup.

“But Mom…”

“You need to eat some fruit - it will help you grow up strong.” 

Lizzy pointed to her milkshake. “My milkshake has strawberries. That’s a fruit.” 

Marcus roared with laughter. You gave him a look indicating that he was not helping the situation. He quieted down but still donned a large grin.

“Nice try, but it doesn’t work that way.” 

Your daughter sighed, but did finish off her fruit cup without any further complaint.

At the end of the meal, Marcus recommended that you all walk off your pancakes with a visit to the sculpture garden at the National Gallery. 

“That sounds awesome!”

“It does,” you told Lizzy. “But before we go, I think you should use the restroom.” She rose from her seat in your booth and skipped off to the facilities.

“I want to tell her about the engagement while we’re at the sculpture garden, if that’s okay with you.” 

“Absolutely,” you nodded.

“I have something special planned and I need to ask you to trust me, Y/N. I know I am asking a lot, but -”

You interrupted him assuring him that you completely trusted him and would follow his lead. He hadn’t steered you wrong before and you know he wouldn’t start now. His body relaxed a tiny bit and his warm brown eyes softened.

“Thank you, Y/N. I love you so much.” He brought his lips to yours while holding your face. You started to feel yourself melt. The sweet taste of butter, syrup, coffee, and him were enough to make your head start spinning. You were quickly brought back to your senses when you heard a clumsy, but adorable attempt to clear a throat. The two of you pulled away to see Lizzy sitting back in her seat staring at you.

“I think we should start to head out,” Marcus suggested.

***

The three of you leisurely strolled through the sculpture garden together. Although you all had been to the garden many times, the towering statues still took your breath away. You were particularly fond of Scott Burton’s Six-Part Seating. There was just something about the contrast between the cold, hard geometric lines and the warm, soft red granite that drew you in every single time. You also were moved by the interactivity of the piece - encouraging the audience in social interaction by sitting in these large seats. As you were admiring the work, Marcus wrapped his arm around your waist and planted a small kiss on your cheek. Seeing you admire and fawn over art tended to make him go weak in the knees. There was just something about sharing a passion, like art, that was so intimate and personal.

As you continued through the garden, you noticed that Marcus was increasingly getting more antsy. You didn’t say anything as you figured that it was all part of his plan. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious about what he had in mind. You were. He was a romantic and freely admitted that he liked to make a fuss over those he loved. You also knew that he was a terrible liar and wasn’t exactly the best at keeping non-government secrets. 

As you neared the end of the sculpture garden, Marcus asked if you could take a brief moment to pause. The three of you were standing together in front of a Roy Lichtenstein sculpture of a house and admired it in quiet. Lizzy was the first to speak.

“Is this stopping to smell the roses?”

“A bit,” you answered. “We’re taking some time to enjoy this sculpture that looks like a home. I’d say that counts. What do you think, sweetheart?” You looked over to your right, expecting to see Marcus and he wasn’t there. You looked over to your left and he wasn’t there either. 

“Mom! Look behind you!!”

You turned around to see Marcus on one knee with an open ring box. Bystanders were stopping and looking on. You felt tears start to well up in your eyes. He had already proposed and you had said yes. However, the fact that he was doing it again and including your little girl meant the world to you. 

He gave the exact beautiful speech that made you cry, although you heard it before. You said yes (again) through your tears and brought him up off his knees. As the two of you passionately kissed, he slid the engagement ring onto your finger. The onlookers began to cheer and clap.

“You and Mom are gonna get married,” exclaimed Lizzy. You nodded through your happy tears.

“But, there’s one more thing I need to do,” said Marcus. Lizzy and you shared a confused look.

Marcus descended onto his knee again, but this time in front of Lizzy. He pulled out a small burgundy box from his jacket pocket and opened it. Inside was a gold necklace with a small rose gold pendant in the shape of a rose. Lizzy’s eyes widened and her mouth fell agape.

“My dizzy Miss Lizzy,” began Marcus. “I have adored you from the first time we met. You are just like your mother - smart, beautiful, creative, and funny. I am so lucky to have you in my life. That’s why I want to spend the rest of yours protecting and loving you. Elizabeth, can I be your dad?”

“You really want to be my dad?!?!”

“Yes. One hundred percent. If you’ll have me.” 

She jumped into Marcus’s arms. “Yes, yes, yes! I want you to be my dad more than anything ever.” 

The small remaining group of onlookers began to aww and a few sniffles were audible. Marcus took the necklace from its box and put it on Lizzy. Happy tears freely fell between the three of you as you tightly embraced. Lizzy was the first to compose herself enough to speak.

“Mom, I think I like stopping to smell the roses.”

Tags: @zannemes​

[the-crows-typist]

Thank you for you patience on this, here is the first installment of the Valentine’s event with Jade and the word ‘Chocolate’ which was requested by  @takumipineapplexd. Enjoy.

CW: For potential OOC and Slowburn with small bits of Angst

Word count: 6378

A Heart from Me to You

“Welcome to the Sweet Tooth, may I take your order?” Deuce says as the customers enter the café in an excited hurry. From your position behind him, you couldn’t help but smile at their reactions to the confectionary seen within your shop; they were your creations, after all.

“I’ll have the lovers’ bite with some black coffee…Oh, and a tuna sandwich with some extra chips.”

“Alright, please take a seat and your order will be with you shortly.” The young man motions them to a nearby table with comfortable chairs and when they giggled to themselves, Deuce got to work on the order given to him. Just as the loud clatter overtook your hearing, you looked away, drowning the voices out to concentrate on the batch of brownies that had been cooking in the oven, the smell of chocolate wafting through the air and mingling with the smell of roasting coffee. You were proud of your achievements and you were proud of the atmosphere you’ve cultivated through your hard work.

“Ah, come on. Let me pay this time!”

“No, let me. I was the one who took you out on a date.”

“That’s not fair! Why don’t we pay half?”

“Eh, but—?”

But through your hard work, you ended up skipping on the life most people your age have. While you created beautiful pieces of art with sugar and meat, couples young and old enjoyed them. While you went out to get supplies, others spent time with people they wish to build a life together with. You couldn’t be angry at them, they deserved the happiness they found, but there was always that pang of jealousy and longing of what might have been had you just looked away from your work for one second.

You shrug your shoulders, hearing the timer ring. Then again, things wouldn’t have been any different.

“Deuce, can you clean up table 3 for me after you deliver the orders? I’ll be preparing the brownies.”

He smiled and nodded his head enthusiastically “I’ll go right to it.” and got to work. You were grateful to have him by your side, though you often felt guilty for the times you asked him to work alone during the days you needed to restock and resupply. Despite his insistence that he was fine, you could see the small tinge of exhaustion in his eyes.

You let the brownies cool on the counter and watch the small business thrive on the love of your heart. You are happy to see it flourish but you couldn’t help the biting bitterness of a love you yearned in return. Shaking the feelings away, you go back to work and grabbing a bar of chocolate, some milk, and hot water. The brownies aren’t gonna garnish themselves.

The next day was relatively quiet, the two of you replenishing the stock of your products and making small talk between each other. Deuce talked about his family while you gave your own opinions and listened. It wasn’t until near completion that customers rolled around. Two tall waltzed into the café, both of them wearing apparel far too expensive for a visit to a small establishment.

“Welcome to the Sweet Tooth, may I take your order?” You took to the counter prompting Deuce to continue the restocking by himself. They looked like identical twins, only distinguished by their eyes and blank hair strands against messy and neat teal hair.

“Let’s see.” The one to your left said, his hand coming to his chin to think as he browses the menu. “I’d like a chocolate lava cake, the hamburger steak set…and some mint tea. What about you, Floyd?” He turned to his twin who had messier hair and droopy eyes. A small hum and he shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll have…french-fries. Ah, there’s flavors available, right?” Floyd leaned down and his towering figure making you falter but only for a while.  

“Yes, we currently have cheese and sour cream at the moment.”

“I’ll take the cheese, then.”

With a motion of your hand, you guided them to one of your plush seats. “Please have a seat and wait for your order, thank you.” As they went, you look to Deuce who had the same expression of fear and surprise on his face. The two of you congregate together while working on the orders. “I could feel my heart leap outta my chest, they look so scary.” He whispered to you.

“Shh, don’t say it too loud.” You chided, bumping his shoulder lightly. “But you have a point.”

Deuce pulled out the fries from the fryer and let it cool just as you began setting up the hamburger set carefully and slowly heated the lava cake. “I don’t know what business fancy-looking guys have with our café but…Profit is profit. Are the fries ready?”

“Just gonna put the cheese powder. The water for the tea is ready.”

“Good. Clean up the area, I’ll be the one to deliver the order.”

“Sorry for the wait. Here’s the hamburger set, a chocolate lava cake, mint tea, and cheese fries.” You set the food down onto their table and set two small pieces of chocolate. “We have a special promo today that if you order a certain amount of food, you get one of our premium chocolates.”

“That’s wonderful, thank you.” The neater looking twin said just as his brother began eating the fries. You nod your head and gave him a polite smile. “Please enjoy the meal.”

The twins ate quietly, their eyes looking over your creations with healthy scrutiny. Floyd’s tongue slipped out of his mouth as he ate his fries and Jade took a bite from his hamburger. They both hummed, looking at each other as if communicating through their thoughts.

“My, such flavor.”

“Does that mean Jade likes the food?” Floyd leaned closer to his brother with a giggle. “We’ll have to see. Let’s finish this up, shall we? Would you like to split the cake, Floyd?”

Floyd stuck out his tongue towards his brother again and grabbed a fork. “Okay~. It looks pretty yummy too.”

The small cake was split between them and the aroma of chocolate hitting their noses.

“Jade, this is…”

“Indeed. Let’s finish up this meal and report to Azul, shall we?”

“I believe this will cover the payment.” Jade offered a card to you, allowing you to input the amount. “May I ask, do you create all the food you here?” As you give the device to him for his card number, you nod your head. “I do. Well, except for the core ingredients and bread I make everything I sell by hand with help from Deuce.”

“Just the two of you?” The receipt prints out and he takes his card.

“Yes, just the two of us. We are a small café, after all, so we don’t expect a long line of customers compared to more corporate and well-known shops.” You let out a small laugh, a hand to your cheek. “Though I wouldn’t mind a small line one in a while.”

Jade laughs along with you, his voice soft and calm yet smile so practiced. “I hope that it would one day happen.” He slips his card back into his wallet then produces another card, handing it to you carefully and respectfully. “I am Jade Leech and this is my brother Floyd, thank you for the wonderful meal.”

You take the card from him and he gives you one last smile before he leaves with Floyd waiting for him by the door. “We’ll come by and visit again one of these days.” Jade gives you one last smile and both you and Deuce were left alone in the empty café.

“The Octanivelle Co.” You read the card out. “Have you heard of this, Deuce?”

He drew a little closer and hummed. “No, not really.”

The two of you walked to the table the twins ate on and found the plates were empty save for a few crumbs of cake and cheese powder. The two of you exchanged looks and couldn’t help but smile. “Looks like they enjoyed the food.”

The door’s bell rings suddenly and an old couple looks at them from the counter. “Can we order some tea and cookies?” One of them asked with uncertainty and you quickly let go of Deuce and walk towards them. “Of course, what kind of tea would you like?”

Deuce looked at you with a smile, seeing your face now vibrant and happy. Just as he went back to his duties, he took the card into this hands and looked at the name. Jade Leech. Octanivelle Co. Why does it sound so familiar?

“We’re back!” Floyd announced just as he entered through the apartment door with Jade following close behind. Azul Ashengrotto had been reading some papers by the coffee table before hearing the two come in. He got up from his chair with a smile, a warm blanket over his shoulders, and clothes baggy and drooping. He looked quite tired. “Welcome back. How was the small trip around town? Did you find anything interesting?” Jade hands him a single piece of paper, a flyer. The young man’s eyes arched.

“The Sweet Tooth?”

Jade’s smile remained pleasant while Floyd plopped onto one of the comfortably plush chairs. “While we did go to the restaurants you asked us to sample, we chanced upon a small café with a wonderful array of pastries and confectionery. I had a nice chat with the owner who makes all their products from scratch.”

Azul brought a finger to his chin in thought. “And what of the food?”

Floyd leaned back on the chair with a hum. “I took a look at them while cooking. They’re pretty careful with food prep and had the right equipment on them.” He looked to the side, remembering how he stared at the owner as a way to look beyond what was allowed to be shown to him. “The assistant reminded me of a mackerel, always flopping around but pretty strong when it comes to it.”

“While I enjoyed the flavor, I think it would be best that you have a taste of it yourself, Azul. Perhaps The Sweet Tooth’s menu is exactly what we’re looking for.”

Azul looked at the flyer again. Its design was basic and borrowed and printing style, it was not at par with those used by more popular cafes. “I’ll take your word for it, thank you. Let’s schedule this for the end of the week.” The smallest of the three set the flyer down on the coffee table.

“Here’s your order of assorted chocolates, a cream and strawberry cake, and some black coffee.” Deuce put all the food into a plastic bag and set it for the customer to take. “Thank you for shopping at The Sweet Tooth, please come again soon.” Sighing, the boy leaned against the counter to stretch his stiff neck. With the last customer on the line gone, the shop was now silent; a cold object hit his elbow and you smiled at him, handing him the cold soda. “You look like you need some refreshments.”

He gratefully took the can from you and popped it open to take a swig. “I’m just happy that I got everyone’s orders to them on time. I know we can handle it but boy does my arms hurt.” You stood next to him and shrugged your shoulders. “Cakes can be deceiving, can’t they?” He nods his head and continued to drink the soda. “But now that it’s the end of the week, I can surmise that we’ll get a few more customers.” You whisper to yourself then look over to Deuce. “Why don’t you take a break? I’m sure you’re tired.”

“But…”

“It's fine a good ten minute rest won’t hurt, right?”

Just as Deuce was about to say something, the bell rang as the door opened, three people entered your establishment. Two familiar and one not. He wore clothes that both fit and hid his figure, his hair neatly styled and white, his blue eyes scanned the quaint shop he just entered. “What a lovely aroma.” He commented. “Is that chocolate?”

Nodding your head, you took your position by the register. “Indeed, sir. Ah, I think I remember serving your friends a few days ago.” You turned to the one with slightly messy hair. “Mister Jade Leech, right?” The three of them chuckle and Floyd pointed to his brother next to him. “Wrong Leech.”

“It’s quite alright. The two of them have told me about your shop and I’ve decided to try some of your food out. I’ve heard nothing but praise from the two of them.” Your cheeks flushed and your heartbeat was sudden, a smile formed on your lips. “Ah, I’m so happy you think that!” you exclaimed but quickly clear your throat when the twins chuckled at your reaction. “Might I suggest our roast beef sandwich? Oh, and a nice slice of chocolate cake??”

The small man nods his head. “As well as some tea, for three please? Mint will do.”

“Understood. Please take a seat while we prepare your order.”

“Thanks for waiting.” You set down the order on the table along with the tea and three cups. Azul lets out a hum of approval when he smells the food. “It’s as Jade says, it smells very good.” The other twin, Jade, chuckles. “They used their spices quite well, don’t they? I have to doubt in my mind that it will be an enjoyable meal.”

“Ah, shucks, I don’t deserve such high praises. I’m just following the recipe.” You say sheepishly, scratching the back of your head as Azul took a bite of the sandwich. “Recipe? Did you get all these outta some cookbook?” Floyd wondered. “Most of the food here is my Uncle’s. Ah, but, the sweets are mine.”

“Are you a family business?”

“Yup. The business went to me after my Aunt retired, I’ve been running it ever since with Deuce.”

Azul swallowed his food and licked his lips. “Interesting. This Deuce person is your assistant, correct? Is he a recent hire?”

“No, he’s my cousin. We’ve been working together since the business was passed down. As for assistant…Honestly, we’re each other’s assistants, sir.”

Jade leaned back against the plush seating, his long legs splaying out. He looked like a model with his clothes on, the way his dark turtle neck defined his face and his light-colored long coat accented his look further. Oh geez, you felt yourself staring and decided to look to Azul. You could hear him chuckle at your movements and you felt this petty frustration boil in you.

“That’s all we wanted to know, thank you,” Azul said to you and catching himself. “Ah, where are my manners? Please, call me Azul. Might I ask for some extra water for the tea?”

“Of course!” You take the teapot from the table. “One moment. Please enjoy your meal.”

Once you were out of sight, Azul took a bite into the cake and his eyes went wide.

“What do you think?” Asked Jade while Azul continued to eat.

“I think we found it.”

“The meal was lovely, thank you.” Azul reached into his pocket and produces some bills. “I’m surprised you don’t have customers coming to you in groves.” Shrugging your shoulders, you input the amount and slip in the bills. “I wish for that to happen but I don’t think Deuce and I can handle it with how we are now.”

You hand Azul the receipt and he looks through it, quiet for one moment. “Say, do you do catering?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Shame.” He pouted but moved to take a card out of his pocket. Azul Ashengrotto. Octanivelle Co. Your eyes widened at the familiar name. Was this Azul working with Jade and Floyd? “Come along, you two.” Just as the two walked out, the resting area’s door burst open with Deuce clutching his phone to his chest and face full of surprise. “You gotta see this! I can’t believe—!”

The trio left as Deuce approached you quickly. “I searched for Octanivelle Co. Look at all this! Their brands, the events!!” He pushed the phone to your face which you swatted in surprise. “The CEO’s name is Azul! That was him, right? Azul Ashengrotto?! He ate here!”

You moved quickly and ran outside the shop in your uniform, chocolate stained apron and all, to find the three. Oh, you should have known! You should have known!! You turned the corner to the nearby train station and soon as you moved to turn another side, your eyes collided with a dark-colored wall.

“Oops.” Said the person you bumped into, a pair of hand-holding your shoulders lightly. “Are you alright—Hm, aren’t you…?”

Jade Leech tilted his head down at you and you pulled yourself away. His shocked expression turned into a knowing smile. “Ah, I see.” He says and you’re sure you’re starting to feel the strong urge to pinch this man’s cheek…If you only you could reach him. “Azul, someone is looking for you.” He said to someone behind him as he let go of your shoulders.

“It’s you. What a pleasant surprise.” Azul’s smile was just as conniving as Jade’s but you could save the petty anger for later. “You asked about catering, right? I’ll do it.” You breathed in again. “But I need to know what you’ll need first.”

Azul’s back was straight and head held high as if he was triumphant in battle. “We need your food for my sister’s wedding.”

The shop was closed for the day as per the suggestion of Azul, the two of you using the time to discuss and plan, to add and remove, to agree and disagree. “Okay,” Azul began, tapping his pencil on the table. “My sister loves strawberry shortcake so that will be the flavor of the wedding cake. The other finger foods will be the smaller version of the—.”

Deuce stood by the counter away from the two and watching Jade and Floyd rummaging through the kitchen and adjusting themselves to the environment. “When will the wedding be?” he asked, looking to one of the twins. Floyd pulled out a can of condensed milk before looking at him. “In few months, three or four, I think. Enough time to get the order done.”

Jade sets down some cups of tea and tea leaves. “When Azul sees something he likes, he won’t stop at anything until he gets what he wants.” He pours some water into a prepared teapot and added the leaves. “He has enough resources to make his vision a reality.”

“But with just the two of us…” Deuce’s words trail off as Azul continued his speech.

“I’ll have Jade and Floyd help you with your preparations.” Your eyes widened and you looked to the two twins standing at the ready, Jade smiling at you while Floyd waved. “They are fast learners and have been trained in many culinary techniques, just show them the ropes of your establishment and they’ll do the rest.”

You could feel yourself flush at the sudden act of kindness. “T-thank you very much, Mister Ashengrotto. I won’t let you down.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He leans to look at the twins, nodding his head. “Jade, Floyd. Be here first thing tomorrow morning, you’ll be learning The Sweet Tooth’s recipes to perfection.”

“Understood.”

“Got it.”

The twins smile in unison, your heart feeling the heavy pressure of the responsibility put onto you while Jade poured each one a cup of calming tea.

Training the twins and running the shop took a bit of time to get used to. You made sure the schedules lined up and two people were always available at the counter at any given time. In the kitchen, you stayed with each twin and made sure they understood the recipe.

Floyd was a natural but often very flimsy when something different catches his attention. You often had to pat his back and tell him to be careful with adding ingredients. “Add the sugar in little by little. Good. Now mix until you’re to make ribbons easily.” You say, guiding his hand by holding his wrist.

“This takes a lot of work…My wrist is starting to hurt.” He complains and you pat his back. “The molds are the fun part. Just a little more and we’ll get to that, okay?”

Just as you move away from Floyd, Jade had just come out of the walk-in freezer with his mold in hand. “Ready for the testing?” You asked as he carefully set down the flimsy material and turning it over to let the pieces carefully slip out. Jade’s work was the polar opposite of his brother with actions precise and instructions followed to the tee.

“As I’ll ever be.” He says, handing a piece to you.

As you chewed, you felt the burst of chocolate hit your tongue and you let out a small noise of approval but there was something in his creations that unnerved you. It was perfect. Too perfect. “It’s good…But it lacks.” You say and Jade’s eyes widen a small bit. “I do remember adding all the ingredients as per the recipe.”

“No, no. It’s not about that. Your handling of the ingredients was perfect and precise but…” You take another bite of his chocolate and continue to chew the piece yet feeling nothing in it. You backtrack a little bit, scratching the back of your head knowing that your next explanation was going to sound stupid to those who don’t understand the concept. “Ah, how do I explain this? It isn’t just the balance of sweet and bitter, you need to put your feelings into it.”

The silence that followed was nerve-wracking and you couldn’t help but cough into your hand. “I-if that made any sense.”

Jade’s smile was what brought you a small ounce of relief and his hand on his chest. “I understand,” He says. “I’ll improve on that as we work together.”

“Hey, chef, can you taste this for me?” Floyd called out to you from behind. “I can’t get the balance right.” You turned around and hurried over to him with a spoon. “Let’s have a taste—Ack, it’s so sweet! What did you put in this?”

Jade’s hand never left his chest, his palm feeling the steady and soft beat of his pusher. “My feelings, huh?”

“It’s quite festive outside.”

Deuce grunted, setting down a box full of milk and following Jade’s eyes to the crowds of people gathering and walking outside. “Ah, yeah. The town has a special night market that pops up once a month. Even people from outside of town come here to check it out.” Jade begins piping the cream covered cake and carefully decorating its top. “Really?”

“Yup. They like it since it’s a nice time to relax but recently, it’s become a place where people like to have dates.”

Jade laughs and begins adding the strawberries on top and sprinkling powdered sugar. “I’m sure the two of you have had your fair share of dates then?” Deuce scratches his chin, remembering his dates. “I have a few times.”

He looks to his cousin, watching them laugh with customers. “But I get guilty having to leave the store to them while I’m out having fun.” He hands a carton to Jade which he stores overhead. “They keep saying they’re fine but I can tell they get tired. They’re not very good at hiding it.” Deuce sighs and takes the box again and moves to the freezer. “They always put the shop first and I’m happy it’s still up and running. I just wish they knew that it was okay to have fun.”

The air was cool and the roads silent, you took a deep breath in after staying in the café for so long. Just as you were about to take the in the signboard, a pop of color and voice of awe distracted you from your activity. Fireworks colored the sky with bright colors, the wind blow again and offered you comfort after a long day. To your left, a couple held hands as they watched and you forced yourself to look away and begin to take the signboard from the ground.

“Good work out there.”

Something cold touched your cheek and Jade stood over you with a glass of water. “Thanks for helping out too. You and Floyd were a big help.” He took a sip of water just as more fireworks flew into the sky. “Do they always do this?” He asks and you shake your head. “Not often. But it’s beautiful to look at, huh? It’s been a while since I’ve seen the fireworks.”

Jade looks to you just as another rocket soared into the sky, the colors of pink and blue, red and green, illuminated the sky in a grand finale. Its colors reflected in your eyes, the shine of the light against your skin that cast a different glow to your sweaty face, he blinks then looks back to the people with their loved ones clapping their hands.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

You look down at your cup of water and chuckle bitterly. “It is.”

“You didn’t have to accompany me on a supply run, y’know?” You say as Jade helps load butter and sugar into a basket. “I would but your cousin was worried about you being tired so I decided to tag along.” He smiles at you in the most cryptic way imaginable, you couldn’t tell if he was making this all up or Deuce was trying to set you up.

“Besides, we’ll be working together for a while so it’s only right that I get used to the routine.” He took another look at the list and reached for the fruits too high up for you to take. While his height had been a bane, it was also a kind of blessing for reaching high places. “Now, what should we get next?” You look through your list and nod your head. “That’s all of it. We can grab a quick bite to eat before heading back.”

Once leaving the store will all the bags in tow, the two of you walked the streets. “How come you didn’t go to the night market yesterday?” He asked, your eyes looking to him. “You let Deuce go but he eventually came back to help.” Shrugging your shoulders, you look away with a pout. “Someone needs to look after the shop, that’s all. Can’t have the business suddenly tanking because of monthly market.”

“Besides…” Jade’s eyes widened slightly, seeing such an embittered grin on your face. It seemed that you had been hurt by this before. Your brows furrowed and eyes closed in a weary smile. “With all I’ve done, I don’t think I have time for that anymore.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—.”

“It’s fine, it’s just personal experience on my part. Let’s go back to the shop, Floyd and Deuce are probably wondering where we are.”

Jade continued to walk beside you but his eyes never watching as the bitter smile relax to one of content and nostalgia. He looks forward, thinking of something to say yet wondering if he should say anything at all.

“And that should be the last piece.” You say, popping the last chocolate strawberry into the container and sealing it. Floyd takes the box and chucks it into the freezer. “This warrants a celebration, don’t you think?” Deuce nudges Jade’s arm. “I hope you got everything prepared.”

“Of course. It’s only your company that’s needed.”

Your confused expression is what prompts Jade to motion you to follow him to the back. “Follow me.” The four of you walk deeper into the shop and you begin to smell a charcoal grill and hear the crackling of a fire. A small party area had been made. A clay grill and some meat laid out to be cooked.

Floyd let out a noise of happiness and you looked to Jade. “Surprised? Good. Let’s enjoy the meal.”

The four of you were merry as you ate your fill of meat and assorted vegetables, Deuce and Floyd sharing their own stories while you and Jade listened. At first, you didn’t think the two would get along but seeing them be so comfortable with each other made you smile.

“Will I see you at the party?”

Jade had poured himself a cup of tea and looking at you expectantly; your stunned silence was what prompted him to explain a bit more. “It is only right that you attend, you did agree to supply delicious food for the wedding.”

“Oh, uh…I suppose I can go. I might need to get a wardrobe check first.” You took a bite of the meat and chewed. “Though, parties like that tend to get wild as the night progresses right? It’d be nice to see you getting wild.” He took your tease in stride and chuckled. “My, is this an excuse not to see you at play as well? I’m certain your hand and eye coordination in sweets making will extend to your ability to dance.”

You hit his shoulder slightly, cheeks flushed yet smile wide. Your dancing skills weren’t anything to be proud of but you could keep a beat. You swear on that!

Jade laughs, his brows furrowed and shoulders shaking. “What I mean is, you’ve worked all this time. It’s time for you to have fun.”

Fun. Your shoulders hunch over with a smile on your face. Jade sets down pieces of meat on the grill while you think. You had spent so much time at The Sweet Tooth making things from the bottom of your heart. You had spent so much time skimping and ignoring what could have interested you for so long that it made you question if you deserved it? The fun most people you know have, the happiness they found and cultivated.

“Ah, I almost forgot.” Jade reaches down and pulls a box. “You did say that my work lacked a certain something so I’ve been practicing with the help of Deuce and Floyd.” Opening it, the smell of chocolate hit your nose. “I think I’ve perfected it.”

You pop a piece into your mouth, the sweetness and bitterness mingled and taste whole and honest. As you chewed, you tasted the memories and the conversations you had with Jade up until this point. His teasing remarks and his honest comments. It was perfect.

His look was expectant. “Well?”

You swallowed the sweet morsel and smiled at him, nodding your head “Well done.”

The wedding was beautiful, the ceremony was solemn and the dance floor was filled with people dancing together. You were dressed in your best attire and nursing a drink in your hands. “There you are.” Azul’s voice pushed through the noise, behind him was his newlywed sister. “This is the owner of The Sweet Tooth, they’re the ones who made all the sweets,” Azul said with the bride, his sister, next to him. “Your sweets are the best. Everyone loves them!” She says, taking your hands in hers. “Your strawberry cake is delicious, I couldn’t stop myself from taking another slice.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” You say, smiling at the infectious sweetness of the newlywed bride’s smile. “Please, enjoy the food to your heart’s content.”

She nods, shaking your hands. “Enjoy the party! You’re welcome to dance with us if you’d like.” Azul chuckled as his sister ran to entertain the guests. “That girl, always too excited for her own good but I’m glad she’s happy. Thank you for helping, I really appreciate it.” You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not a problem, Mr. Azul. Just seeing people happily eat my creations is enough for me.”

Nodding his head, he moves to step away. “Do enjoy the party.”

The music shifted to a slow beat and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sudden shift of mood as the guest scrambled to dance with their respective partners. Your loneliness wouldn't sit for long when Jade took to your side. In his hand was a plate of strawberry cake.

“Enjoying the food?”

“I’d be lying if I wasn’t.”

He continues to eat while you watch the people dance in the center, the bride and her groom waltzing it away in the center with foreheads connected and smile wide. “Would you like to dance?” Jade looked down at you, his hand at the ready. You hesitated for a moment before taking it and walking with him to the dance floor.

The music was slow and so were your movements. Jade’s held your hand as you spun around slowly, the distance between you and him growing smaller and smaller. “Having fun?” He asked just as the lights dimmed to match the mood of the floor. “You always ask lots of questions, Jade.” You said, leaning your head to his chest. “I can’t help but be very curious, that’s all. I only want to make sure everything I do is satisfactory.”

You spun again, changing sides. “So you’ll only act if the person likes it, then?” He chuckles, eyes furrowed and sharp-looking teeth showing. You never admitted to it but, seeing him this way made him look so cute. “When you say it that way, you’re making me up to be some kind of boot licker.”

“Ah, c’mon. There’s no harm in making people happy. But you gotta think for yourself.”

“How ironic of you to say that.”

You stuck out your tongue at him in defiance and he laughed again just as the song shifted to one more intimate. “But…If I were to have things go my way.” He pulled your hands a little closer and letting go to let them settle on your waist, rocking you side to side. “I would want you to stay a bit longer.”

Your foreheads connecting and your noses almost touching. “That’s what I want.”

The hands on his chest bundle into fists, your cheeks quite warm. “I-if…If that’s what your heart desires.” Did you really deserve this kind of happiness? You asked yourself that millions of times yet never thought to answer it yourself. Did you deserve the singing feeling in your heart after ignoring it for so long?

“Then, will you dance with me again?” He asked, your body shivering as he held you close to him,

“Yes.”

The wedding ended and the guests began to leave. You stood at the edge just as the taxi you flagged down came to a crawling stop. Jade stood behind you with his hand holding yours. “Well,” You say, turning to him with a smile. “This is goodbye, then. The wedding is done and the customers are happy with the food. A perfect run, don’t you think?”

“Indeed.”

The two of you stood together for a while before you spoke to break the silence. “Thank you for tonight, Jade. I had lots of fun.”

Your heart soared remembering the dances you had with him but it soon plummeted to your stomach knowing it would probably be the last you’d do that with him. “I’m glad.” That was all he could say, “I’m glad you had fun.”

Nodding your head, you turned around and opened the car door. “Yeah. Real fun. Goodnight, Jade.” He nodded his head and your hand slipped out of his hand you. He put his hands behind his back and watching you speed off home, his tall figure growing smaller and smaller as the distance between you grew.

“Where to?” Asked the taxi driver.

You sniffle, looking away with a sigh. The moment of happiness you felt became a distant memory to come back to. The answer to the question you’ve always asked yourself was all too clear to ignore. You spared no second in answering.

“Baker’s Street.”

The new day had started and you thought it couldn’t get any worse. You had slept through your alarm and Deuce was nowhere to be seen. Hastily donning your uniform, you sprinted your way to the shop only to see loads of boxes being hauled in. Deuce watched by the door.

“Deuce, why didn’t you wake me up? What’s going on here??”

Your cousin gave you a questioning look that turned into realization. “Didn’t Azul tell you? He was planning a visit after the wedding.” Azul and his sister, as if on cue, walked out of the store. “Good morning, sorry for the mess we’ve caused.”

“N-no, it’s not a problem really but what are you doing here?”

“Everyone loved your foods last night and thought to have breakfast here before leaving. Deuce told us you were short on hands so I had the twins help out.” Deuce chuckled and scratched his head. “You looked so tired that I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Azul, everything’s ready.

Jade came out, his apron stained with oil and hair slicked back. The two of you alock eyes with one another for a split second. “Right. Let’s have a nice meal, shall we?” He and his sister went back in and leaving you alone. Deuce was quiet with his exit, only letting out a small laugh as he left you alone with Jade.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” You scratched your cheek with a small laugh. “I didn’t expect to see you again so suddenly.” He drew closer, taking your hand in his. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?” In your hand was a piece of chocolate, the very first thing you taught him to make.

“I just wanted to make sure everything is perfect.”

You popped it into your mouth and chewed. The morsel was not too sweet and not too bitter, the memories of the both of you making your heart soar to the heavens. “What do you think?” The hold on his hand never left yours.

“I think you’ll know what I say.”

He chuckles, moving with you to enter the shop. The bittersweet taste lingering on your tongue for longer than it should. Your fingers intertwined as you turned the sign over, signaling a new day of business at your shop. This was your happiness.

[tuiccim]

Frozen

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Words: 1624

Warnings: Just tooth rotting fluff and a kid with a big mouth. 

Summary: Fluff. Your niece is spending the night at the tower and the two of you take over the movie room for a Frozen marathon. 

“Hey Carley.” You greet your best friend as you pick up your phone. 

“Hey sweetie. I have a huge favor to ask you.” Carley sounds nervous.

“Okay. What’s up?” You ask.

“Nina was supposed to spend the night with a friend but she’s got a virus and now Nina can’t go and she’s heartbroken. And… and I was supposed to have Nick over for dinner and some alone time tonight. Is there… I’m sorry, but is there any way she can spend the night with you? I know I’m asking a lot.” Carley was practically babbling. Nina is her 5 year old daughter and your “niece” whom you adore. 

“Hang on a second. Lemme check into it.” You had been heading for the common room in order to get some lunch and you were glad to find Steve and Bucky there. “Steve, Bucky, hey, would anyone have a problem if my five year old niece, Nina, spent the night and we took over the movie room?”

“You have a niece?” Bucky asks.

“She’s my best friend’s daughter.” You say.

“I don’t see that being a problem.” Steve smiles at you while Bucky nods. 

“Thanks, guys. Hey Carley. Yeah, I can do it. Lemme talk to her… Hey Ninabug!”

“Hey Aunt Y/N. I was supposed to spend the night with my friend but now I can’t!” Nina sounds on the verge of crying. 

“I’m so sorry, Ninabug! But I was hoping you could come spend the night with me at the tower. We can get pizza and popcorn and candy and take over the movie room to watch Frozen. How does that sound?”

“Can we watch Frozen and Frozen 2?” Nina asks.

“Yeah! I love Frozen 2.” 

“Will I get to meet Captain America?” She asks. 

You glance over at Steve and bite your lip. “Um, I can’t promise that but I’ll ask, okay?”

“He’s my favorite.” Nina says.

“Yeah, I know. Mine, too.” You smile and glance over at the guys sitting at the table. “I’ll pick you up at 4, okay? Lemme talk to mom.” You got back on the phone with Carley and cement plans.

After getting off the phone, you nervously walk back over to Steve, “Hey, um, Nina is a big fan of yours. She would love to meet you. She even has a Captain America stuffie that she sleeps with. Would you mind?”

“Uh, no, no, of course not. I’d be happy to meet her.” Steve says.

“Great! Thanks, Steve. See you guys later.” You are grinning widely as you leave. 

---

“She didn’t realize we could hear both sides of her conversation, did she?” Bucky smirks as Steve. 

“She’s just agreeing with her niece to make her happy.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“You’ve had a crush on her since she got here. Now, you know she feels the same.” Bucky winks.

“Her saying that doesn’t confirm anything.” Steve grouses. 

“The smile she had when she said it does.” Bucky elbows him. “Take a chance.”

Steve narrows his eyes at his friend, “Maybe.”

---

A quick trip to the grocery to get Nina’s favorite snacks and drinks, a sweep of your room to clean up, and it’s time to go get her. Nina is beyond excited She chatters the entire drive to the tower. You put her things in your bedroom and change her into her Frozen nightgown and slippers. She’s clutching her Captain America stuffie as you head to the movie room. 

“I’m going to order our pizza.” You say to Nina as you pull out your phone. 

“Don’t!” Comes from behind you. You turn to see Steve. 

“Hey! What do you mean?” You ask. 

“I, uh, I already took care of it.” He gives you a breathtaking smile and then kneels down to get on Nina’s level. “Hi Nina. I’m Steve.” 

“You’re Captain America!” Nina says. 

“That’s right. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiles at her. “I heard you were watching Frozen. I haven’t seen it yet. Would you mind if I join you?”

“Really?” Nina grins. “Did you hear that, Aunt Y/N? Captain wants to watch the movie with us!”

“Yeah. That’s really sweet of you, Steve.” You say as he stands to his full height.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He whispers. 

“No, of course not.” You smile. 

“Come on. I have a surprise.” Steve takes your’s and Nina’s hands and guides you all to the movie room. 

When you enter, your mouth drops. Spread across the coffee table is a buffet of pizza, popcorn, and assorted cups and bowls with the snacks you had purchased along with a selection of drinks. The couch in front of it is covered in blankets and pillows including some hanging from the ceiling creating a fort. 

“Wow!” Nina screeches. “A blanket fort! Look at all the food! Candy!”

“Steve! This is amazing!” You look at him and he is grinning at you. 

“You like it?” He asks. 

“I love it! This is so sweet. Nina will never forget this. Thank you.” You hug him, but quickly let go. “Sorry.” You say as your cheeks stain pink. 

“Hey, I don’t mind.” He smiles and moves to turn on the movie. 

Nina is bouncing on the couch. You go over to her. “Okay, young lady, we don’t jump on the furniture. Let’s eat, okay?”

“Okay!” Nina says as the movie starts. She eats, occasionally sneaking a piece of candy, and becomes enthralled in the movie almost immediately.

Nina is singing and dancing around to the songs when “Let It Go” comes on, “Aunt Y/N, I’m Anna and you’re Elsa, remember? You have to sing the song!”

You sing along all the while very aware of Steve next to you. When the song is over Steve is grinning at you. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

You put a hand on your face, laughing and embarrassed. “I can hold my own. Just wait, she’s gonna expect you to play Kristoff.”

True to form, when Kristoff sings, Nina runs to Steve to beg him to sing. Unfortunately, Steve doesn’t know the words but he dances around with Nina which makes her happy. The three of you laugh, sing, and dance through Frozen and Frozen 2. Nina is exhausted by the end of it. 

“Alright, Ninabug. Let’s go brush those teeth and I’ll sing you to sleep.” You say. 

“Do I have to? Can we watch it again?” She begs.

“Not tonight. Tell Steve good night.” You say.

“Good night, Captain!” Nina says looking up at her hero while clutching her stuffie. 

“Good night, my best girl.” He says squatting down to peck a kiss on her cheek. 

“I’ll clean all this up after she’s asleep. Thanks again, Steve.” You smile at him and he smiles back warmly. As you lead Nina back to your room, you wonder at Steve’s actions tonight. You’d had a crush on the supersoldier since you’d met him, but you were just an agent. There’s no reason for him to feel the same. Nina’s teeth are brushed and she’s sound asleep before you get through the second round of “All is Found.” 

You head back to the movie room to clean up the mess. Steve is still there pouring the snacks back into their packages with the credits playing in the background.

“Oh, Steve, I’ll clean this up. It was so sweet of you to do all of this.” You insist.

“I don’t mind.” Steve says. 

You reach to grab some of the snacks but Steve’s hand takes your own and he spins you before pulling you into his arms. 

“What are you doing?” You laugh.

“Dance with me?” He asks.

You nod looking up at him, swaying to the music playing against the credits. 

“Why did you do all this?” You work up the courage to ask him. 

He smiles down at you with a blush across his cheeks, “Thought I should prove myself as your favorite.”

“Oh, God, you heard that?” You blush furiously. 

“Supersoldier hearing.” He chuckles. 

“That’s so embarrassing.” You say. 

“I’m sorry, but I was glad I heard it. You’re my favorite, too.” He smiles down at you. 

Your brow furrows at his admission. “Me?”

“You.” He leans in and your lips meet. It’s a soft kiss and he pulls back after just a few seconds. 

You stare at him in shock for a moment. Then, putting your hands into his hair, you pull him down for a more thorough kiss. He complies immediately and his tongue darts out requesting entry. You open to him and he explores your mouth, pulling you flush against him. 

“Aunt Y/N, are you gonna marry him?” Nina’s voice breaks through your kiss induced haze.

You separate from Steve quickly. “Nina! You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“I woke up and you weren’t there.” Nina whines.

“I was cleaning up our mess.” You say. 

“No, you weren’t. You were kissing Captain America. That means you’re getting married, right? Anna kisses Kristoff and they’re getting married.” Nina says.

“N-no, Nina. We’re not getting married.” You chuckle and can’t look at Steve. “Come on, kiddo. Back to bed.” You take her hand.

“Wait, Nina.” Steve says. “I need your help.”

“What can I do, Captain?” She says wide-eyed. 

“Convince your aunt she should go on a date with me.” Steve smirks up at you. 

“She’ll go with you. She told mommy you were the hottest man alive.” Nina says with childlike innocence. 

“Nina!” You cover your face with both hands

“Well, she’s the most beautiful woman alive, so I guess we were made for each other.” Steve smiles up at you. “Tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night.” You nod with a smile before leading Nina back to your room. 

Masterlist

[adenei]

A Granger Weasley Christmas

Some tooth rotting fluff! I’m not sure I could have fit in any additional tropes if I tried, but for those anon requests, here it is in it’s full glory!

The bonus smut chapter I wrote that ties into this fic can be found here, should you wish to read it 

I hope everyone who celebrates has a very Merry Christmas! 🎄

**********************

Hermione stepped in through the front door of her home as she placed her bag by the door and hung her coat in the closet. She shook off the snowflakes that had fallen onto her hair as she chose to apparate home and walk up the lane, relishing in the peaceful, quiet Christmas Eve night. Her work at the Ministry had finally been finished, and now she could enjoy the next week off with her family. 

“I’m home!” she called as she finished putting her things away. She heard laughter and smelled something rather sweet coming from the kitchen. Hermione walked in to find Ron, Rose and Hugo working at the kitchen counter. Gingerbread pieces were piled high with white frosting acting as glue, and there were colored candies all over the kitchen counter. 

“What’s this?” she asked as she walked further into the kitchen.

“The school sent home a gingerbread house kit for families to do over Christmas hols. The kids have been begging to start working on it, and I could only hold them off for so long. I thought you’d be home an hour ago,” Ron explained while giving Hermione a look.

“I know, I’m sorry! I just needed to make sure things were wrapped up at the Ministry, and now I don’t have to think about work for the next week.” Hermione smiled as she kissed each of the kids on the tops of their heads. She ignored Ron’s eyeroll at her ‘not thinking about work’ comment. “I’m going to go change and then I’ll be back down to help, alright?”

“Okay, Mummy!” Hugo said as Rose nodded. She was far too focused to speak as she was placing a gingerbread square just right so that it stuck to the frosting and layered the way she wanted it to.

By the time Hermione had returned, Rose and Hugo had constructed a towering structure that was slightly lopsided, but amazingly held together. She had a feeling Ron may have slipped a bit of magic in to keep it sturdy to avoid disappointing the kids. 

‘Look, Mum, look!” said Hugo in an overly excited voice. 

“Can you tell what it is? Can you?” Rose added.

Hermione took another look at the tall gingerbread structure, but before she could guess, Hugo spluttered, “It’s the Burrow!”

“Hugo!” Rose sounded upset.

“Oh, my goodness! It is, isn’t it? How clever!” she said quickly, to avoid a meltdown.

“It was my idea!” Rose said.

“And I helped make it lopsided, like the Burrow is,” Hugo added proudly.

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh as she listened to the two of them explain which parts were theirs, and which parts they worked together on. She sat next to her husband as the kids set to work adding details with the frosting and the various candies. She wasn’t sure if more ended up on the display or in their mouths.

“I don’t suppose you had anything to do with enchanting the gingerbread house so that it hasn’t crumbled, hmm?” Hermione whispered into Ron’s ear.

“What they don’t know, won’t hurt them. Besides, we’ll take a picture of their masterpiece, and the magic should hold for a few days anyway.”

“Brilliant thinking. I take it I missed dinner?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, but I’ve left your plate in the microwave. You just need to heat it up,” Ron said as he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Hermione watched the kids finish their Gingerbread Burrow as she ate her meal, and then noticed the clock. “Oh my, it’s almost eight. You know what that means!”

“Christmas Eve presents?!” Rose and Hugo shouted excitedly.

Hermione and Ron laughed. “Yes, Christmas Eve presents, but only after you clean up this mess. We’ll make sure the Burrow is displayed properly on the hutch, how’s that?” Hermione said as she carefully moved the kid’s creation.

The kids nodded as they began picking up their mess. Ron had moved the garbage can closer so they would make less of a mess transferring the piping bags of frosting and cookie crumbles. Soon enough, the counter was rid of the remaining sweets, and Ron was scourgifying it clean.

 “Alright, kids. To the living room!” Ron said in an energetic tone as he and Hermione followed them.

“Oh, no!” Rose said. “Dad, the lights went out!”

“Ah, so they have. Must be one loose bulb somewhere. Well, maybe we can all work together to fix the lights if it’s not too late.”

“Before we set out cookies for Father Christmas?” Rose asked hopefully.

“Only if it’s not too late,” Hermione chimed in. “Now, here go ahead and open these.” She handed Rose and Hugo identically wrapped packages.

“Yay! This is my favorite part about Christmas Eve!” Hugo said enthusiastically. Nothing could ruin the holidays for their youngest child.

Both Rose and Hugo excitedly unwrapped their presents to find matching Christmas pajamas. The shirts had cute reindeer on them and the bottoms were a checkered red, white and black pattern.

“Thanks, Mum and Dad! Should we wear them to bed tonight?” Rose asked. 

“That’s the plan, Rosie,” Ron said as he reached out his arms to accept a hug from his little girl. “Now, what do you say we get you two cleaned up in the bath so you don’t get any frosting or gingerbread crumbs on those new pajamas?”

~~~~~~

Ron led them up to the bathroom as Hermione picked up the wrappings and joined them soon enough. For once, bath time did not take as long as expected because the kids were too excited to help fix the tree and get the cookies they’d baked earlier that day set out for Father Christmas. He quickly found himself chasing two kids in matching pajamas down the stairs and into the living room where Hermione was waiting for them. 

“Do we still have time to help with the lights, Dad?” Rose asked. Hugo was showing off his best puppy dog eyes and pouty lip to help convince their parents to say yes. 

“I think if we all take a different section of the tree, then we may be able to solve the Christmas tree mystery. Hmmm, now who should take the top section? Hugo, you’re tall enough, right?” Ron joked as he tickled his son. 

“No, Dad, that’s your job! Rose and I can work on the bottom!” 

“Alright, alright, I suppose you’re right. Mum can take the middle section, yeah?” Ron asked as Hermione nodded and the family of four set to work. 

Hermione half suspected the kids to grow tired of the task fairly quickly, and honestly, if it wasn’t the night before Christmas, she’d have just suggested going out to purchase another string of lights to replace it with. Unfortunately, it was too late for that. Surely if they couldn’t figure it out, they could use magic to fix it, right?

As if on cue, Hugo asked worriedly, “Dad? What if we can’t fix it? Will Father Christmas not be able to find our house?” 

“Hugo, that wouldn’t make Father Christmas skip our house! Some of my friend’s families don’t even keep their lights on all night.” Rose argued with her brother.

“W-what? But he needs the light to see! How else would he know where to put the presents and which stockings to fill?” Hugo questioned.

Hermione gave Ron a quick look. They were too young to be having these questioning conversations about Father Christmas, but Hugo was so intuitive about everything that she shouldn’t be surprised. Ron returned her worried look with a reassuring one of his own. Hopefully he had a plan.

“You see, Hugo, Father Christmas is magical, too. I can tell you that he appreciates when the lights are on, but he won’t skip the house if they’re off or broken. Don’t worry, as long as you’ve been good this year, you have nothing to worry about!”

Hugo stopped checking the lights as he bit his lip. He was clearly worried that maybe he hadn’t been as good as he thought. 

“Hugo, don’t overthink it, honey, I’m sure Father Christmas won’t forget you. Remember, as long as you believe, you shall receive.” Hermione smiled at her son, who looked a bit relieved as he went back to trying his lights. 

They worked in silence for a little while, and all of a sudden the middle section lit up brightly again.

“I found it, I found it!” exclaimed Rose.

“Great job, sweetheart! And great teamwork everyone,” Ron said quickly when he noticed Hugo’s disappointment that it wasn’t him to fix the tree. “Should we go set the cookies out and then get ready for bed?”

This helped take Hugo’s mind off the tree as he jumped up and ran to the kitchen. “Mum, look! I made this one especially for Father Christmas!” They’d made classic sugar cookie cut outs that were caked with a heavy layer of icing. Hugo’s was a green Christmas tree with little globs that she assumed were ornaments.

“Wow, Hugo, you worked very hard on that! I’m sure he’ll love it!”

“Mine’s an angel, but I decorated his face to look like a gnome,” said Rose with a triumphant smile. “I got the idea because Dad told us about when Uncle George and Uncle Fred put a gnome on top of the tree at the Burrow when they were growing up.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at the memory as Ron grinned, clearly happy that the kids had enjoyed his story. As they were arranging the cookies on the plate, Hugo asked, “What was your first Christmas together like, Mum?”

Hermione looked at her son. “Do you mean our first Christmas when we were together? Or..”

“No, your first Christmas after you met!” Hugo said excitedly.

“Why don’t we make that your bedtime story?” Ron suggested. “Rose, do you want to hear the story, too? We’ll tell it in Hugo’s room. Go brush your teeth and we’ll meet you up there in a few minutes.”

“What are we going to tell them?” Hermione asked Ron as they heard the kids running up the stairs.

“I reckon we should probably tell them the truth..” Ron said cheekily, earning a playful swat from his wife.

“You know what I mean,” Hermione said. 

“Well, we can explain that you went home, and Harry and I stayed at Hogwarts. Pretty uneventful, honestly.”

“Better than telling them we spent second year together at Hogwarts so we could use polyjuice potion to spy on Draco,” Hermione reasoned.

Ron burst into laughter. “Can you imagine the kid’s reactions if we told them you polyjuiced into a cat?”

“We are never telling them that story! Some things are better left in the past.”

“There’s a lot that they probably shouldn’t know about our Hogwarts years,” Ron said.

“Yes, and hopefully Neville won’t give too much away, either.” Hermione said.

“It’s not Neville I’m worried about,” Ron muttered as he motioned for them to head up the stairs.

They walked into Hugo’s room and sat on the edge of the bed. “So you want to hear about our first Christmas, eh?” Ron said as Rose and Hugo nodded. “Well, I’m afraid it’s not a very interesting story.”

“Why not?” Rose asked.

“Well, it was our first year at Hogwarts, and I went home to spend Christmas with my family, and your dad stayed at Hogwarts to spend Christmas with Harry since he wasn’t going home,” Hermione explained.

“You didn’t get any presents for each other?” Rose asked with a disappointed look on her face.

“Oh, I got your father some chocolates from Honeydukes,” Hermione said.

“And I got your Mum a quill from Scrivenshaft’s. It wasn’t much, but we were eleven,” Ron added.

“Twelve,” Hermione corrected him.

“Well, what about the story of how you met, then?” Hugo asked.

“Now, that’s a story!” Ron said with a chuckle.

“Ohh, tell us, tell us!” Rose begged.

“Please?” added Hugo.

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Hermione told them. “Well, we met on the train at Hogwarts. I was helping Neville find his toad, and I stumbled upon the compartment that Uncle Harry and Dad were in. He was quite rude to me, actually,” Hermione said playfully. “Tried to do a bit of magic, but it didn’t quite work as intended.”

“Yes, and then your Mum decided to tell me I had dirt on my nose and left,” Ron continued. “We didn’t get on very well in the beginning. A couple months in, she tried to help me cast wingardium leviosa, and I called her a nightmare.”

Rose gasped. “You didn’t!” 

“Did you apologize? You never let Rose or me call each other names!” Hugo seemed appalled.

“He did apologize eventually,” Hermione said. “I was so upset that I went to hide in a bathroom and missed the Halloween feast.”

“So she missed the announcement that there was a troll roaming the castle,” Ron said nonchalantly.

Both kid’s mouths dropped open. “A troll was roaming the castle? Aren’t they dangerous?” asked Hugo.

“Do they let trolls loose every Halloween?” Rose asked excitedly. Merlin, they had a Gryffindor on their hands if Ron had ever seen one.

“No, no! It wasn’t planned. All the kids were sent back to their common rooms and the teachers went to go find it. Well, Uncle Harry and I remembered that someone said Hermione was crying in the bathroom, and we figured we should go tell her. It was a good thing we did because the troll went right into that bathroom,” Ron went on.

“And you locked him in there with me!” Hermione interrupted.

“Yeah, but we went in after you when we heard you scream!” Ron defended.

“Yes, just before he was about to get me!”

“What happened?” Rose asked.

“What did you do?” Hugo said with wide eyes.

“Well, Harry jumped on the troll’s back to try and stop him, and ended up getting his wand stuck up the troll’s nose. I tried to throw a pipe at it, and then I managed to cast wingardium leviosa and levitated the club out of the troll’s hand.” Ron paused to make sure he had the kid’s full attention. “And then, the club knocked the troll on the head, and he passed out.”

“We were just about to get out of there when the professors found us and asked what happened. I covered for them, telling Professor McGonagall I thought I could take the troll on by myself, but they wouldn’t let me.”

“You did what? Rose asked.

“After that, your Uncle Harry and I decided to keep her around. She turned out to be a really great friend when she wasn’t nagging us to do our homework,” Ron said with a smile as he put his arm around Hermione and kissed her temple.

“Ewww,” Rose said.

Hermione laughed as she said, “I think it’s time for bed now. If you stay up too late, Father Christmas may not make it. You’ve got to be asleep for him to make his rounds.”

They kissed Hugo goodnight, and repeated the routine with Rose in her room before shutting their doors.

“I’m exhausted,” Hermione said.

“And yet, our night is just beginning,” Ron said with glee.

****************

“No, Ron, the bikes should be in the back by the window! Not in the front. Bigger presents in the back, smaller presents in the front,” Hermione chided.

“I still don’t see why Hugo and Rose are getting bikes to begin with. They’re magical, they should have brooms!” Ron shot back.

“They have brooms already!” 

“Yeah, but Hugo’s is a toy broomstick and Rose has got my old Cleansweep from school.”

“Next year that will be Rose’s big present, but this year it’s a bicycle for each of them. They have muggle friends at school, and they need to be able to play with them like muggles. Besides, learning to ride a bike is much like learning to fly a broom, and it will be a good skill for the kids to have.”

“If you say so..” Ron watched as Hermione finished rearranging all of the presents under the tree. He folded his arms and shook his head as he chuckled to himself. “You’re barmy, you know that, right? The kids aren’t going to remember the layout, you know.”

“Yes, but I will. And you secretly love it. You’re not fooling anyone,” Hermione said as she brushed her hands together indicating she was done, and walked over to him.

Ron wrapped her in his arms and leaned in to kiss her. Even after fifteen years together, his heart still skipped a beat every time their lips touched. Hermione seemed to melt into him, probably from a mixture of exhaustion and an eagerness for his affection. With two kids running around the house, it was a struggle to find time to be intimate with each other.

“Shall we head to bed, then?” he whispered against her lips.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Hermione responded in kind.

*******************

Hermione woke with a start at 4:30 in the morning, and tugged at Ron’s arm. “Ron!” she hissed. “The cookies! We forgot to eat the cookies!”

“Wha-?” Ron said in his still drowsy state. 

“The cookies are sitting on the counter,” she repeated as she hopped out of bed and pulled her bathrobe on. She let out a grunt of frustration as she saw Ron’s head hit the pillow again. “Honestly…” 

Hermione checked both the kid’s rooms to ensure they were still sound asleep before she tiptoed to the kitchen. The cookie eating was always Ron’s job. The kids had a knack for layering the frosting a little too thick, and Hermione couldn’t stomach all that sugar. She took a deep breath and picked up Hugo’s cookie first, and took the biggest bite she could muster so it would look like it was eaten. 

Hermione placed one half back on the plate and took the other out of her mouth, nibbling on a tiny corner before making her way over to the bin. She opened it and stuffed the cookie as far down as she could, strategically placing some discarded wrapping paper over it so the kids wouldn’t see. 

Then,she went back to the plate of cookies and panicked. What do I do, what do I do? She thought. Hermione spotted a piece of parchment on the counter and had an idea. She grabbed it and began scribbling in the messiest scrawl she could manage:

Rose and Hugo,

Happy Christmas! You’ve been so good this year. I hope you enjoy your gifts! Thank you for the cookies. They were delicious! The angel gnome was too creative to eat - I’ve never seen anything like it. Be good for your Mum and Dad and I can’t wait to receive your letters next year.

Father Christmas

There! Crisis averted. Hermione took a deep breath as she quietly made her way back up the stairs, and was hoping for a few more hours of rest before the kids woke up. Ron was already back to snoring.

****************

“Rosie, look! Look! A bicycle! Wow!” Hugo gushed as he skidded to a halt in front of the tree, Rose hot on his heels.

Ron and Hermione were cuddled up on the couch, mugs of coffee in hand as they watched the kids open up their presents. Both kids received a few books that Hermione knew the kids would enjoy, but aside from that, their presents couldn’t have differed more. 

In addition to the books and bicycle, Rose received a quaffle, broom care kit, and the furby she was begging for because everyone at school was asking for them. Ron had no idea why it was the hit gift of the year. They looked so creepy, and if an owl was what Rose wanted, he’d have gotten her one, but Hermione had insisted.

Hugo’s gifts included a small magnetic chess set, the latest lego set, and a playstation console. It was a used one, but would do well for Hugo who only liked a few certain games. Rose’s temper had caused an uncontrolled magic accident where their former console had shorted out and wasn’t playable anymore. Hugo was especially excited to have another gently used version to replace the other one. 

The kids received socks and a board game from Father Christmas, and their stockings were filled to the brim with both Muggle and Magical sweets. They thanked their parents profusely, and grabbed their own gifts that they’d created for their parent’s gift. Hugo had made an ornament with painted puzzle pieces glued together, encircling his school picture. Ron and Hermione both gushed over how creative it was.

Rose had made a Christmas tree out of string that was wrapped around small nails protruding from a small slab of wood, with the words “Merry and Bright” scribbled in her handwriting underneath. Aunt Audrey had helped her make it apparently, and Rose was very proud of the finished work. Hermione got up to put it on the mantle and Ron hung Hugo’s ornament on the tree. 

The kids hugged their parents. “Can we ride our bikes?” Hugo asked hopefully. 

Ron laughed. “No, Hugo, there’s too much snow on the ground. We’ll put the bikes in the shed, but I promise on the first nice day, we’ll get right out there. Why don’t you bring some of your presents up to your room and play while Mum and I make breakfast. You too, Rose.”

Rose nodded and began gathering as much as she could carry towards the stairs. Hugo followed her as Ron summoned his gift for Hermione from under the tree. “You didn’t think I’d forget your gift, now, did you?” he said with a smile. 

He handed her a small box, which she opened gently. It was a small jewelry box, which she opened to reveal a small silver bracelet with four stones. The two in the middle were sapphire and aquamarine. Next to the sapphire was a blue topaz stone, and next to the aquamarine, an alexandrite stone. It was stunning, and Hermione knew without explanation that it was their family represented by their birthstones.

“It’s beautiful, Ron, I love it,” she said as she clasped the bracelet around her wrist and then leaned in for a kiss.

She summoned his gift next and handed it to him. It was a simple envelope, and didn’t seem like much. He opened the envelope to reveal a weekend getaway for just the two of them next month in Egypt. It was the one place Ron had been that Hermione had not, and he’d always wanted to take her there. Once they’d started their family, opportunities for travel had all but vanished, so this was her way of helping him make good on his promise.

“Wicked!” Ron said. “I finally get to show you around Egypt, and it’s a holiday for just the two of us? I hope things are still the same as when I was twelve,” he said with a laugh. “This is brilliant, love, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Shall we get on with breakfast, then?” Hermione asked. “I’m sure the gifts won’t keep them occupied forever.”

“Right you are,” Ron agreed as he led her into the kitchen.

“I still stand by my statement from last night. This is still the best Christmas ever,” Hermione told him as she leaned against the counter, watching him get ingredients out.

“I’d expect nothing less.”

[redhoodssweetheart]

Mom Down

Genre: Fluff

Relationship: Dick Grayson x Female!Reader 

Requested: Yes by Anon (REQUESTS ARE CLOSED BUT I WILL TAKE SUGGESTIONS FOR FICS YOU’D LIKE TO SEE)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Fluff, Reader passes out

Description:  You’re stressed when the League decides to make a visit to see how you and Dick have been doing running things.  As the mom of the group you have a lot more stress on your shoulders than the others.  Because of the stress you pass out right as the League visit is in progress.

A/N: Anon, I hope this is what you had in mind.  If you’d like an actual Mom!Reader x Dad!Dick then just let me know and I’ll totally do that.

No one questioned that Y/N and Dick were the mom and dad of the Titans.  It was a running joke amongst the young Titans that Dick and you were practically married to one another at this point.  Damian was especially vocal with Dick about this.  He took every opportunity to tease his older brother about the apparent attraction between the two of you.

You weren’t sure when the title of ‘mom’ had been slapped on you.  And to be honest you didn’t really care either.  If it meant making sure the kids under your leadership stayed healthy and safe then hell yeah you were a mom.  Dick was your co-parent of sorts.  The two of you working together to keep the Titans in tip top shape.

You had been fast friends when the two of you were Titans.  Dick had always been a natural born leader.  He had the charisma and charm to be a leader and get people to follow orders.  He commanded respect and the Titans listened to him.

And you weren’t gonna lie, it was incredibly sexy when he went into leader mode.  You had to remind yourself that there were others present and you shouldn’t be having those types of thoughts with teenagers present.

Especially the really perceptive ones like Damian Wayne.  

Being the son of the world’s greatest detective was a good and bad thing.  Good because he caught things that sometimes you and the others didn’t.  Bad because he knew everything.  He once got you a CD by your favorite artist and you had no idea how he had known since you barely talked about them.  He also knew when you were feeling down and brought you your favorite sweets to cheer you up.

Sometimes he would catch you staring at Dick and give you that smirk of his and you felt insanely embarrassed that you had been caught ogling his brother.

Right now you were preparing the Titans for a visit from the Justice League.  Visits from the League were rare, but they liked to drop by sometimes to see how the younger generation was coming along.  Those visits were stressful for both you and Dick as you tried to make sure the Tower was in tip top shape.

Lately you had been feeling more stressed because Garfield had been injured on a previous mission and you were making sure that he was all right.  He had broken it when one of the bad guys had managed to catch him off guard.  You had been there in an instant making sure that no other harm befell him as the rest of the Titans came to your aid.

On top of Garfield being injured Raven had been having nightmares recently.  She had been coming to you for comfort in the middle of the night when she was awoken by the particularly scary ones.

“Hey,” the sound of Dick’s voice made you jump and you turned to see what he needed.  “They’re about to arrive, are you ready?”

You gulped, praying that your anxiety would subside, and nodded your head.  “Yeah, is everyone waiting in the main room?”

“Yeah, I just came to find you,” he offered a reassuring smile.  “It’ll be okay Y/N.  We’ve been doing really well, and they’re just making sure that we’re not slacking off.  They have faith in us.”

You let out a sigh, “I know, I know, but I still worry that they’re gonna think that there’s something wrong with the way we do things.”

“I’m pretty sure the Titans will fight tooth and nail to keep us in charge here,” Dick chuckled.  “They like us too much to let the League replace us.  And trust me, Damian would make Bruce’s life a living hell if we were replaced.  He would deny it of course because he has an image he needs to keep up, but he totally likes us.”

You laughed, “It’s the little things he does that tells you he’s not as tough as his facade makes him out to be.”

The two of you made your way down the hall toward the main room of the Tower to wait for the upcoming arrival of the League members.  They had specified which members it would be, but you had a feeling Batman would be one of them.  Bruce wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to see either one of his sons.

The boom tube opened and Wonder Woman, Batman, Superman, and Flash all stepped through.  Dick stepped forward with a smile on his face, “It’s nice to see you all again.”

“Dick,” Bruce said courteously before shaking his hand.  You wanted to roll your eyes at the stiffness and tease them and say to hug each other like they meant it.  But given that this was a formal meeting you kept your mouth shut.  You stepped forward next and greeted the other members as well and soon the introductions and greetings were out of the way.

Dick and you walked alongside the members, Dick doing most of the talking about what had been happening recently and how training was going.  The first stop was the training room where Superman asked for a demonstration on the training exercises that the team would go through on a daily basis.  You stepped into the middle of the room and motioned for Damian to join you.  He obliged and the two of you began the training session.  

You corrected Damian a few times when you noticed something off about his stance.  Damian was a perfect fighter, but he sometimes was more offensive than defensive.  You were working on him with that though, helping him see the bigger picture than just winning.

During your fight though Damian noticed that you were sluggish in your moments and his concerns grew when you staggered a bit.  The rest of the group saw it as well.  Dick stepped forward, his breath catching in his throat.  “Y/N,” Damian said your name, but it seemed far away.

You collapsed to the group, Damian catching you before you could hit the hard floor.  Dick and a few of the others came racing over.  “What happened?”  Dick demanded.

“I don’t know,” Damian said truthfully.  “She was fine a moment ago and then she started to slow down.  I was just about to voice my concerns when she collapsed.”

Dick looked at Raven, “Check her.”

Raven nodded and used her powers on you to see if there was anything major going on below the surface.  When she was finished she said, “She’s just exhausted.  She’s been pushing herself a lot harder lately.”  She looked down guiltily, “I feel partly to blame.  I’ve been having nightmares and she’s been there to help me through them.  Plus with Garfield’s injury she’s been spreading herself a bit thin these days.”

Bruce put a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “Take her back to her room so she can get some proper rest, the Titans can show us around the rest of the Tower.”

Dick agreed with Bruce and carefully lifted you into his arms and carried you back to your room.  Garfield followed after the two of you as quickly as his leg would allow him too.  “Go back to the others, I can stay here and watch over her.  If anything happens I’ll come find you.”  Dick was hesitant to leave, but he nodded and headed out of your room while Garfield transformed into a dog and curled up beside you. 

A few hours later you woke up in your room.  It was dark out by this point and you felt a little disoriented.  The last thing that you remembered was training with Damian as the League watched, then everything had gone black.

You looked over and discovered Dick asleep in the chair beside you.  “Dick?”  Your voice drew Dick out of his not very restful sleep.  He blinked his eyes a couple of times trying to adjust to the dark room.  “What happened?”

“You passed out when you were training with Damian.  The others are worried sick and blaming themselves over this,” he informed you as he joined you on the bed.  You snuggled closer to Dick.  “Why didn’t you tell me that you were feeling stressed?”

“Because I didn’t even really realize just how stressed I was,” you admitted.  “I just thought it was because the League was visiting and then of course Garfield being injured and Raven’s nightmares.  I thought I could handle it.  I’ve handled a lot worse before.”  You looked up at him, he could see the worried expression on your face, “What did the League say?  Are they upset?”

He shook his head and stroked your back, “They aren’t upset.  Bruce gets it.  He knows how stressful watching over a bunch of kids is and then on top of that having your superiors coming for a visit can always create tension.  No one is blaming you for this.  They all know how good you are at your job.  They did recommend taking a few personal days just to recover and relax.”

“But--”

“No buts,” Dick said, his leader's voice coming out.  “You’re taking a few days to rest and relax.  Maybe take a little trip, stay in a nice hotel, go to a spa, whatever you need to do to unwind.”

You sighed knowing that you weren’t going to win this one, “Fine, but I don’t like being forced out.  The others need me.”

“They will all still be here when you get back.  I’ll make sure they don’t get into too much trouble.  No wild parties or using powers unsupervised and all that jazz.”  He kissed the top of your head, “Now get some more rest and we can plan where you’re gonna go tomorrow.”

“You mean you’re gonna decide where I go and then shove me into a taxi and wave goodbye as I stare longingly out the window as the disappearing Tower,” you scoffed.

“So dramatic,” Dick chuckled.  “Get some rest, Y/N, tomorrow will be good for you.”

You wanted to protest some more, but you were still feeling tired and held onto Dick a little bit tighter as you drifted off back to sleep.