Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Characters: Dick Grayson, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne
Additional Tags: Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Summary:
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Danny Phantom, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Nicholas St. North, E. Aster Bunnymund & Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jack Frost
Characters: Danny Fenton, Nicholas St. North, E. Aster Bunnymund, Toothiana, Sanderson Mansnoozie, Tsar Lunar Lunanoff X | The Man in the Moon
Additional Tags: Humor, Mentioned Pitch Black - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Summary:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Gravity Falls
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines
Characters: Bill Cipher, Dipper Pines, Robbie Valentino
Additional Tags: Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Minor Character Death, Murder, Teenage Dipper Pines, Dark Comedy
Summary:
Bill Cipher shows his love for Dipper in a gruesome way.
For a long time, Yoshitsune refused to acknowledge that I was not a morning person.
Rising with the sun - or before it, in the long Canadian winter - was something that he had never quite let go of, used to making his bed with hospital corners, moving through his morning routine with military precision.
From the moment I embraced a life free from the rigorous demands and harsh punishments of the Red Room, I had decided that I was not going to drag myself unnecessarily from a warm nest of blankets and sheets when there was no pressing need to do so.
There was a little while where he tried lightheartedly to cajole me into joining him. I sat with him on the porch, coffee in hand - his black and bitter, mine loaded with sugar - and I admitted readily that the colors exploding on the horizon were breathtaking.
It took a simple negotiation in order to get him back to bed; the moment my shirt came off, he was helpless, following me inside without looking back.
After that, we tended to rise together - more often that not with satisfied grins and an unmade bed.
He wasn’t the most experienced chef, but he was passionate about my eating enough to put in the time in the kitchen.
Yoshitsune favored hearty, simple Canadian staples - the sorts of things he relished making as a father and fiancé. Venison stew, poutine, pemmican - and his Saskatoon berry pie was to die for - though his pancakes would always be considered his crowning glory.
I, meanwhile, had never quite shaken myself free of the idea that food meant pain. My palate had adjusted, calling for extravagances and dramatics - borscht with extra dill and curry with ghost peppers. He argued me down to habaneros after one particular experience had him chugging milk and wheezing, his fingers gripping the table so hard that the wood groaned.
“If you feed that to the children, I’m calling CPS.”
Apollo was the only one who had my taste for spice; Yoshitsune would watch in awestruck horror as he sneaked chillies straight from the back, eating them raw without batting an eye.
It was this that made him declare our youngest a tougher soldier than he could ever be, earning Appie’s huge grin and giggle of delight.
Suffice to say, we typically cooked together - working with one another to create something rich and flavorful, ending up with a meal we could all enjoy - most of the time.
It was well-established that my body was not designed for the cold long before I moved north. Even before the events in Asgard, I didn’t handle the cold well - my small, slender form lacked the insulation, delicate feet relied upon for dancing more than sub-zero temperatures were want to facilitate.
Yoshitsune, however, was a true Canadian. The windows remained cracked throughout the year, a single thin blanket draped over his mostly-nude form in the night.
Until me, of course.
If there was one thing Yoshitsune would not compromise on, it was keeping me warm enough.
Windows became shut tight. A thick comforter covered the bed. The fires stayed lit almost endlessly for several months of the year, heat radiating through the cabin and wreathing around us. When I expressed concern about altering his natural environment, he simply smiled, shrugging his shirt over his head and leaning back against the sofa, letting the warmth radiate from his skin. I’d curled into his side with a contented sigh, earning a soft grunt of discomfort when my cold hand met his chest.
He was always willing to endure the spike of discomfort for me to press frozen flesh to warmth, thawing me out without complaint.
I hadn’t always been social.
For a lot of my life, I avoided people. I was known in reflection. Nat didn’t realise until years after the first time I piloted the body that I’d been around for a while - finding comfort in the solace of darkness, stealing away to the custom-made studio while the compound slept. Nat woke with blood on her toes and no memory of how it got there.
Then I was discovered. I was loved. I was slowly introduced to a world that was both terrifying and magical.
I relished the isolation of my life as it was now - my existence in the quiet of the woods with Yoshitsune and our family. Never far from those I loved, thanks to Stephen’s portal, but it was a contact driven by choice, not inescapable proximity.
Suddenly, I had the ability to choose. And choosing crowds and chaos was an option I made frequently, unflinchingly.
Yoshitsune was more quiet, more observant. He would happily limit himself for most of the year to only our close family, content in his Canadian wilderness, hiking mountains and tearing along roads on his motorbike at speeds that made my blood run cold.
But for me, he attended festivals and parades. He spent multiple days a month at the compound and the farm, never faltering.
He let me pull him into the spotlight - both physical and metaphorical - and I adored him for it.
When I’d asked him once - quietly, curiously - he’d only smiled, cupping my jaw gently in one unwavering hand.
“You’re the sun,” he replied simply, shrugging. “It’s an honor to be around your light.”
While I would be the first to argue that gently encouraging social interaction was a good thing, I’d also be the first to note that he made me better in a lot of ways, too. His calm kept me grounded. His ability to think rationally kept us in food and home - and, at one point, was the only reason Artemis didn’t end up with a house-pony.
He was handy - when I declared the broken porch light an art installation, tying a bow around it, he laughed and kissed my cheek. The next time we went out in the dark, it blazed with an unwavering light, complete with the bow I’d made.
We sat outside under that same lamp’s glow one night, and I gazed up at it quietly, his fingers stroking gentle lines down my spine.
“Do you ever wonder why we work?” I asked, my voice soft, cheek resting against his chest as I watched the fireflies gather. When he made a small, curious sound, I shifted my gaze to his. “We’re so different. Sometimes it feels like… We shouldn’t go so well together, you know?”
He considered my words for a moment, quiet and thoughtful, his touch on my back never pausing. “You bring the fire,” he replied gently, shrugging, “and I bring the steady. We work because between us, we can burn bright without going out.”
Slowly, I grinned, leaning closer, chest aching with adoration. “Solar opposites with the same orbit,” I declared, and he laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“I don’t know. I’d say you’re the center of my universe, Swan.”
