#might scribble my thoughts on paper soon or mull them over until i can think of something more coherent

[nevertrustasealwoman]

not m3gan of all movies getting me thinking about my interpretation of blik & his interest in robotics

[spookyboywhump]

There might be some more follow ups for Doll but for now, a reunion (with some bonus plot stuff uwu)

Also I should’ve clarified this before but this whole lil Doll arc takes place some time in the future from when they’ve gotten out

CW: Past pet whump, dehumanization, mute whumpee

***

Unfortunately, the man wasn’t particularly helpful in providing information about his life before Nicholas. If anything, he seemed to panic when asked, which meant they were struggling to find his real identity and by extension, anyone who could possibly help him. He didn’t match any missing persons reports within the last several years, he couldn’t remember his name, it almost seemed as though whatever life he’d had before simply ceased to exist. The thought of it made Eli shudder.

Due to the difficulty he was having, he was quite surprised when Lane stopped by the room, opening the door to speak to him.

“Hey, somebody’s here for him.” They said, gesturing to the man.

“What? Did you figure out who he is?” He asked, confused that they could’ve managed to do that before even he knew anything. At the very least, he would’ve liked to have known before now.

“Sort of. Turns out his old employer has some sort of partnership with us, someone here must’ve let them know or something, they didn’t really tell me all the details.” They shrugged “From the way it sounds though, our little friend there was involved in some shady shit himself”. Eli wasn’t sure how he should feel about this, he looked to the man who seemed nervous, keeping his head down now that Lane was here. He figured if something was wrong, if this person shouldn’t be here, then he could stop things before they got bad.

“Alright, send them in…” He said hesitantly, and Lane nodded, stepping away. It only took a few moments for this person to appear in the doorway, a tall dark haired man with a worried look in his brown eyes, which widened the second he laid eyes on the man sitting across from Elias.

“Lexi…?” He said softly, and of all the reactions Eli expected from him, none of them matched the one he saw.

The man, “Lexi”, was staring at him with wide eyes but he didn’t look excited or relieved, he looked terrified, and after only a moment of recognizing this person he abruptly jumped up, trying to back away only to trip over his own feet, falling to the floor and causing Eli to jump up to help him, however the other man seemed to already be trying to do the same. Every step closer he took though, Lexi would back away, until his back hit the wall, he curled up while still staring at the man.

“Lexi, please, you, you know me-“ He said, but the man kept shaking his head, repeatedly mouthing the word “no”, and as he stepped closer Lexi suddenly threw his hands up to cover himself, as if expecting to be hit, and that’s when Eli finally got between them, forcing the taller man back.

“Leave him alone, can’t you see he’s terrified?!” He snapped, and the man backed off immediately, something Elias hadn’t quite expected.

“I’m sorry- I just- I haven’t seen him in years, what’s wrong with him?” He asked, and Eli looked back at Lexi who was still curled up, still mouthing the word “no” and looking at Eli desperately.

“I need you to back away from him, please.” He said, calmer this time. The man obliged, still looking worriedly at Lexi as Eli finally moved away from between them, glancing down at Lexi. “Do you need to say something to him or to me?” He asked, picking up the notepad and pen, to which Lexi frantically nodded, reaching his hands out and grabbing for them, Eli quickly handing them over to him. While he frantically scribbled on the paper, Eli looked to the man. “Can you tell me your name? And his name for that matter- how do you know him?” He asked.

“My- My name is Leon Morales, and that-“ He pointed to Lexi, “Is Alexei Antonov. He’s my boyfriend, we were together for three years before he went missing when he was twenty-five.” As he spoke, he fumbled with his wallet, pulling out an old ID card that very clearly showed the man on the floor, along with all his important information. He handed it to Eli, and he decided to hold on to it to show Alexei once he’d calmed down. He looked over at him now and he’d stopped writing, holding the notepad and pointing at Leon, staying relatively calm when Eli took it and handed it to the man. Leon’s eyes widened as he looked it over, and Elias waited until he offered it to him to take it and read it over.

Go away go away go away he’s going to kill you if you speak to me you have to leave you have to go before he finds out master doesn’t like you master said he would kill you and I can’t let him kill you please just go before he finds out I’m not yours anymore I’m sorry go away go away go away go away. He’d written it over and over, becoming less legible the longer it went on. It made Eli’s blood run cold just to read it, and he took his time to think about what to do next before looking to Leon.

“You don’t need to leave for good, but can you wait outside the room for a few minutes? I’ll come get you when he’s ready.” He said gently, and after sparing a worried glance at Alexei, Leon nodded, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him, letting Elias focus all his attention on Alexei now. He took it as a good sign when he didn’t flinch away when he got near, still watching him warily though. “Is it alright if I sit down with you?” He asked gently, and Alexei nodded.

He sat down in front of him, still holding the notepad and pen in one hand, but the other still had the ID card, which he held out to him.

“Is this… is this you…? Can you remember…?” He asked him. Alexei took it from him, taking his time looking it over before he slowly nodded. “Do you remember that man? Was he your partner?” He asked gently, and Alexei nodded. He couldn’t help but notice tears shining in his eyes. He reached for the notepad again and Eli gave it to him, staying on the floor with him while he wrote. His hand was still shaking but he went slower this time, less frantic than his previous outburst, and after some time he handed the paper to him.

Leon was my boyfriend. I loved him very much but master didn’t like that. He said if Leon found me or if he got near me or if he ever spoke to me or touched me then he would kill him. I told master I forgot about him. Don’t tell master but I still love Leon I don’t want him to be hurt. Tell him to leave, please, tell him I love him but he has to leave

“I… I don’t think you need to worry about your master.” He said slowly. “I promise, he’s not coming after you, he’s not going to hurt you or Leon. You… if you want to, you can go home with him. I promise you, you’re safe now…” He said. Alexei still didn’t look too sure of this, reaching up and wiping at his eyes. “Do you want to talk to Leon? I can give you two some time alone if you’d like…” He offered, and after a while of thinking it over Alexei nodded. Elias left the notepad and pen with him before getting up, leaving the room to find Leon anxiously pacing the hallway.

“Is- Is he okay?” He asked immediately, a scared look on his face.

“He’s… He wants to talk with you.” He said, avoiding answering the actual question. “You can go in by yourself, I’ll stay out here but you can come get me if you need anything.” He said, opening the door for Leon. He left it cracked this time, without Alexei’s voice he wouldn’t hear a shout or scream if things went wrong so he tried to just barely listen in just in case anything happened.

Things were quiet for the duration of their conversation, Eli could just barely hear Leon as he was speaking quietly and calmly. It sounded like it was going well, it lasted for a while, and finally, Leon came back to get him. He looked better, almost hopeful now.

“He, Uh, he wants to tell you something, he’s writing it down now.” He said, and Eli followed him back into the room. Alexei finished up soon enough, and Eli hoped for the best as he read it over.

If you really mean it that my master will not hurt us then I’d like to go home with Leon. I would like it if I could still contact you somehow just in case.

“Of course, I can leave you a way to get in touch with us without having to make a phone call.” He said, scribbling something down on the same paper. Beneath it, he left a simple message, If he is making you do this you can tell me now and I’ll make him leave. Alexei smiled just slightly when he saw it though, making eye contact with Eli and shaking his head before tearing the page out, folding it up and keeping it close to himself. He handed the notepad back to Eli, and he flipped through it, tearing out just a few pages of important things Alexei had written down before giving it back to him. “You can keep this, you probably need it.” He said, and Alexei nodded. He already looked to be doing better after his talk with Leon, and really all Elias could do was hope this would be good for him.

***

He left work late that day. There was a lot of paperwork to do before Alexei could get out of there, and after that he returned to his desk to find Lane had left part of the report from Elle, stuff about their owner that would be important to include in Alexei’s file. It took him time to read through it all, horrified by what he read about their owner, and then it took even longer for him to write up the necessary reports. He was one of the last people to leave that night, and instead of going home he ended up at Zander’s house. Right now, he felt that he needed him.

Now he laid on his bed, staring up at the glow in the dark stars stuck to his ceiling. Zander was at his desk, Eli hadn’t seen what he was doing on his computer and he didn’t really care all that much, still mulling over the events of the day. After a while of a comfortable, relaxing silence, he spoke up.

“I met someone today.”

“Really? Someone interesting?” He asked.

“Yeah. His name is Alexei. He can’t speak.”

“He’s mute?”

“He was made that way. He showed me the scar.” He said, and finally Zander turned around to face him.

“Somebody cut his vocal cords…?”

“Nicholas did. Or- he had somebody do it.” He said, anxiously fidgeting with his fingers where they rested on his stomach. “He- He used to belong to Nicholas, he was his last pet, he was, he… Nicholas said that I reminded him of him…” Zander didn’t say anything at first, and that was enough for Elias to keep going. “He- He almost looked like me too, our hair is kinda different colors- I mean obviously, since mine is fucking teal but like, his isn’t that far off from my natural color, he has blue eyes and freckles, he’s close to my height, that… that can’t be a coincidence, the way Nicholas acted with me…”

“Eli, I’m sorry…”

“That’s the thing, this isn’t my problem anymore! Alexei is the victim here, I’m just overreacting!”

“You’re not overreacting.” He assured him. “You know that both of you can be victims of Nicholas’.”

“I know, I know but… I feel stupid complaining when Alexei was rendered mute and then thrown away like he was fucking nothing! That fucking bastard got bored and threw him away- and fuck, did you know about their owner?!” He sat up now, looking at Zander.

“Kid, you’re gonna have to be way more specific than that.”

“His name is Robert Arison-“

“That name rings a bell but I heard a lot of names in my time there.”

“He worked with Cain, he dealt with international pet trades- do you realize how fucking big that is!” He didn’t wait for an answer, he knew Zander knew better than anybody. “That’s a whole other fucking issue, god it feels like it’s never fucking ending and we’re running out of room for the rescues- not everyone has friends or family readily available, if it hadn’t been for someone tipping off his old employers I’d still be completely lost with Alexei!” He groaned, anxiously running his hands through his hair. “I know it’s good, I know, I know we’re helping as much as we can but I just… I feel like it’s not enough…”

“You’re doing as much as you can…” Zander said gently. “Not to mention, this is still a fairly new operation for all of you, right? It’s going to take some work to organize everything to run smoothly. I think you’re doing pretty well, especially given how stressful it must be for you in particular.”

“We’re doing well but it’s… I don’t know if it’s enough, especially at the rate we’re getting people out of there… not to mention, we don’t even have the authority to deal with the fuckers holding them hostage and the actual authorities are fucking useless.”

“You can thank Charles Whitaker for that.” Zander muttered.

“Well fuck Charles Whitaker! Fuck him, and fuck Cain Whitaker, and fuck Nicholas and Clement and Robert Arison, fuck all of them!” He cried, snatching up one of Zander’s pillows and burying his face in it, letting out a muffled scream. He felt the mattress dip next to him as Zander sat with him, draping his arm around his shoulders. He leaned into him immediately, finally relaxing at his touch. They were silent for a while, Zander holding him close, before he finally spoke up.

“I… I want to help…” He said slowly.

“You are helping…” He murmured.

“No, I mean I want to help.” He said more seriously this time, and Elias finally lifted his head to look at him. “I… I mean it’s probably way too late, it’s been months but… if that offer from your boss is still open…”

“Zander… you don’t have to do that… I’m just bitching, you don’t…”

“No, I’ve been thinking about it for a while actually.” He sighed. “I was there for seven years. I lived surrounded by those people, I know them and I know what they do- and I know how the dogs think. If I can help then… then I’d like to…”

“You know it’s difficult… it’s exhausting and sometimes scary and I… I don’t want you to do something you’re not ready for.”

“I can’t sit around here forever. Truth be told it’s probably a fucking miracle in terms of jobs I could have right now, and if I have information that could be helpful then I should be there with you. It’s not really fair for me to stay away.” Eli knew he was kind of right, knew he could be more helpful than any of the clueless fucks running around trying to handle this- himself included. His boss hadn’t brought it up since he first told her Zander declined but he figured it couldn’t hurt to bring it up again.

He just sincerely hoped Zander was making the right choice.

***

Tag List: @ihaventwritteninsolong , @galaxywhump , @legallylibra , @to-whump-or-not-to-whump , @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi , @as-a-matter-of-whump , @grovegrocer , @renkocchi , @whumpasaurus101 , @inky-whump , @lonesome--hunter , @ladygwennn , @simplygrimly , @withering-whump , @lave-e, @whatwhumpcomments , @thatsthewhump , @just-another-whumper , @starnight-whump , @unicornscotty

[little-ideas]

Once Upon a Fantasy

Invitation to The Mystic Dance hosted by @little-butterfly-writes here

This was so much fun to do! Thank you for having me :3 I started writing and the story just took on a life of its own resulting in my longest piece yet ^^;

I know I don’t usually write OCs, but this story centers around Vanderwood and my CMC Ao (though Saeyoung also features a bit). The setting is supposed to be in an older time, but I have no sense of history’s fashions, technologies, and music, so please just consider this either a fantasy world or some hodgepodged amalgamation of decades/centuries

Hope you enjoy! ^ w ^

Lengthened shadows flickered about the fringes of paper, the glow of lantern flame warm yet small in the dawn of night. Said paper was of fine quality but wanting in splendor next to the companion twould respond. The clinking of metal nib against glass dotted silence, followed by the soft scratch of pen on the paper’s surface.

Dear Mister Vanderwood,

the letter began, each character drawn slow and exact, crafted with as much precision their writer could muster. Before her leaned a slate, smudged with chalk and the scribbles of drafted note from which she now copied. Ao much preferred the flow of ink on parchment to the drag of chalk on rock, but paper cost a pretty penny and could not be wasted on the idle ramblings of initial thoughts, so the slate had done until she knew precisely what she would write. She only wished she knew where to send her letters instead of waiting for Saeyoung to take and deliver them; but no matter, such were simply the ways of the rich, she supposed.

Glancing at the box upon her shelf, she wondered when she might receive another letter from the gentleman.

~*~

He came the week the invitations were delivered. Town abuzz and bursting with excitement for the Mint Palace Ball, Ao had nary a hope she might see Saeyoung’s companion once more before the festivities began, yet he had appeared at her door in lieu of his friend.

“Saeyoung’s busy with the dance, then?” Ao questioned, pouring two cups of coffee. “Couldn’t escape with you?”

“He’s under extra watch after sneaking away too many times.” Vanderwood responded.

Ao flinched, had it been her fault? Vanderwood must have noticed for-

“He likes to skip his tasks to play with the town’s strays,” he explained, sipping from the cup she handed him. Ao smiled, where once Vanderwood had hesitated to drink, now he waited no longer.

Taking her own sip, Ao mulled over Vanderwood’s recent tidings. Saeyoung would be unable to visit until after the dance -her cats would be displeased at that for he always brought them delightful treats- and she would be unable to send any letters. A shame, but she understood and selfish she should not be. Not now, for if Saeyoung was busy, then surely her guest must also be, yet he was spending time here, with her.

“Vanderwood,” she began, trying to keep her tone light, “is it really ok to be here? Surely, you must be busy, too.”

At this he grinned, and for the briefest of moments, Ao felt her heart stop.

“Whose work do you think Saeyoung is doing?”

She blinked, answer unexpected. Then, slowly, his words sunk in and Ao, too, began to smile. Then giggle. Then could not help but laugh alongside him, tears dotting the corners of their eyes. Through Vanderwood’s letters and his own boasts, Ao knew that Saeyoung -their energetic, brilliant, rapscallion of a friend- had a habit of absconding to destinations unnamed and, though she knew not what it might be, forcing Vanderwood to do their work instead. How appropriate, then, that Vanderwood act in kind for the busiest event of the year. They both knew Saeyoung would not learn his lesson.

As the laughter lulled and soft silence settled betwixt them, Ao could not help but admire her friend- the ease of his countenance; his acceptance of her “tiny beasts” pawing at his sides -creatures she and Saeyoung adored but he was not particularly fond; the divide between his conversations both oral and written -the former dictated by necessity, the latter far more relaxed. Upon their first meeting, Ao had found Vanderwood to be terse and intimidating, despite Saeyoung’s introduction, but through months of correspondence, she had grown to know him -far more verbose in letter- and thought him endearing. She feared not the silence amongst them anymore.

It was he who spoke first.

“Will you be going to the dance?” His voice startled her, causing her to jump, and he hid his smile behind the rim of his cup.

“Pardon?”

“The Mystic Dance at the Mint Palace, will you be attending?”

Ao paused before responding. She supposed she should, the whole town would be off, the food was sure to be delicious, and she might even perchance to see her two friends; however, people were different in the eyes of society, and she wondered if the night might end what little relations they currently had. An event open to all, free of status on paper, did not mean such conventions would be adhered to in practice. Looking at Vanderwood, though, she shook head of such notions; he and Saeyoung would not do such, and to think as so would despair their reputation. She smiled at him.

“I will if you teach me to dance.”

~*~

The counts had been easy; the closeness, movement, and posture, not so much. Vanderwood had come several times since his last visit, true to his promise of being her instructor, and Ao might have felt bad were it not for the heat flaming her cheeks whenever she recalled Saeyoung’s laughter at her miserable attempts at turning during their last visit (how he escaped, she knew not, only that she pitied the poor soul waiting on him). She would learn, she’d vowed, if only out of spite.

Determined not to become a spectacle again, Ao’s evenings had been filled with enough practice that her head was now constantly counting off 3s, her shoulders held a dull ache, and the furniture had been misplaced for days. Yet as Vanderwood now led her around the room, she had not glanced at her feet and had only stepped on his once. Maybe twice. Alright, three times, but in her defense, she had tripped! Or so she insisted to Saeyoung, whose rapid applause came the moment they separated.

“Marvelous, indeed! Would have thought you a different lass!” He teased.

Ao stuck her tongue at him, and Saeyoung leaned against his friend, arm draped across his forehead. “Forsooth, Mary, our lady doth wound me!”

Vanderwood sighed at their antics, yet his smile betrayed his amusement.

“Perhaps you’d care to dance with the lady?” He gestured to Ao; brow quirked.

“And risk my toes?” Saeyoung gasped, “I’d never!”

“Saeyoung Choi!” Ao shouted, attempting to stomp on his shoes. “You absolute heathen!” She missed and the two began a chase about the room, jerking knees and squashing stones, until Saeyoung ran back towards Vanderwood.

“Help me, Vandy!” He cried. “A demon gives chase!” His attempt to hide was thwarted by Vanderwood’s arms surrounding his own and holding him in place, grin stretched across his face. Saeyoung gasped in mock betrayal -twisting to get out- before slumping forwards and extending a foot in defeat. A firm press upon the top of his shoe and Saeyoung was freed, rejoining his friends’ sides to complete an afternoon of mirth and merriment.

~*~

Laughter echoed down the streets as people clapped and cheered -fiddlers skipped along the cobblestone roads whilst onlooking peddlers tapped rhythms with the boxes of their wares. Shops were closing, but with the dawning of the ball in a few days’ time, taverns opened early, seeking to make coin from their many guests. In town, nary a room twas available at any inn, yet still the folk kept coming.

Parading after the fiddlers, people poured into the streets, bouncing with the beats as they sashayed along towards open spaces. All this Ao and Vanderwood had witnessed through her windows yet remained inside. Now, rocking upon her heels, Ao grabbed Vanderwood’s hand, tugging him towards the door and the festivities beyond.

Initially, Vanderwood had no intention of participating in such jovialities -his latest letter from the week prior apologizing for his previous and most likely continued absence- but Saeyoung had pulled him from his desk, knocked upon Ao’s door, thrust him at her, and vanished within the throngs of people scurrying about. Graciously, she had offered him welcome and rest in her abode, but Vanderwood had caught her gaze frequently flit to the outside merriment. Having arrived unannounced, it would not have done to kept her from whatever plans she may have had, or so he told himself. Truthfully, he, too, wished to join the crowds -the carefree and lively spirits of the townsfolk were always a welcome reprieve from the stuffiness of High Society. As Ao sternly told her cats to mind the house and behave, before pulling him with her into the party beyond; however, he wondered if perhaps that were not his only reasoning.

*

It was not his only reasoning, Vanderwood realized, watching his friend dance about, the fires illuminating her smile as a new tune picked up. He saw her beam when her eyes met his own, then beckon him over, but he shook his head, lifting his goblet. She rolled her eyes and huffed at him, yet quick as her smile had fallen, it returned, and she twirled around once more.

Vanderwood took a swig of drink, attempting to ignore the beat which seemed to thrum louder now in his chest. He should rest while he could -Ao would soon drag him out to join her, of that, he was sure.

*

True to form, she had sought him out after a few more songs had pass, laughing as she spun and planted her feet firmly in front of him.

“Mary Vanderwood!” She panted, grin undermining her admonishment. “One does not simply turn down an invitation to dance!” Vanderwood merely watched as she struggled to regain her breath.

“Drink?” He offered at last, holding out his cup as the notes of a new song began. He chuckled when Ao frowned at him before downing its contents.

“Well,” she sighed, “one song can wait.” Then, as though realizing what she had just done, stammered a “thank you” and handed back his cup.

When the music began anew, Ao tugged Vanderwood towards the crowd of dancers, weaving betwixt the bystanders, pattering along seemingly as though she had missed not a beat of song. And as she kicked up her skirts and twirled about, pulling him deeper in with her, Vanderwood was glad the fire’s glow concealed his cheeks’ blush.

~*~

Well, tonight was the night. Donning the dress before her, Ao prayed it would be nice enough -what little remnants of her wages she had after necessities and paper, she had saved for the fabric to sew a proper, formal dress. Though simple in design and decoration, the dress fit her well and complemented her complexion -vibrant red to catch the eye, with a silhouette that tapered in towards her waist before flowing out about her once more. Practicing a few steps, Ao found she rather liked the way it fanned around her when she spun.

Against her neck sat not pearls, but a ring -a memento of family long gone- and she gripped it tight, wishing for all to go well. Drawing her cloak about her, invitation in hand, Ao left for a fate unknown.

~*~

Ao blinked once. Twice. Pinched her hand and -ow! - this was real. The gentleman before her -noble of birth, correspondent of the treasured letters she kept within the box upon her shelf, beloved friend- stood now with hand outstretched and crown atop silken, brown locks. He chuckled at her reaction.

“Well?” He asked, nudging her hand. “I believe one does not simply turn down an invitation to dance.”

Timidly, Ao placed her hand in Vanderwood’s, and he pulled her closer -left hand closing around hers, right palm tucked against her back- before leading her about the floor.

“You never told me!” She hissed, gaze flickering to his crown before eyeing those around them. He laughed, a familiar sound in so foreign an environment.

“You never asked.”

Ao frowned, about to retort when they spun and she tripped, stepping on his foot. For a moment, they both froze. Then, slowly, they giggled, chuckled, laughed, roared -voices filling the room, and their eyes with tears. Vanderwood took Ao’s hand once more and continued leading her around the space, and for the first time that day, she relaxed.

And if Saeyoung saw the pink that tinged both their cheeks? No, no he did not.

[ragewerthers]

The Greatest Gift

Summary:  Bokuto and Akaashi agree to make Christmas wish lists. The problem is that Bokuto thinks they are going to be mailing them to Santa. The last thing he wants is for Akaashi to see what he's written... but his sweet, evil Keiji has ways of getting what he wants!

A/n: This is my Squealing Santa fic for @ticklygiggles​!

Since she is kind enough to host the event I wanted to write her a fic in return! 

This is based off a super cute prompt she sent where person a writes a cute letter to santa and when person b wants to switch they absolutely refuse to do so! What ensues is tickles and much cuteness!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765010

I hope you enjoy! :D

Word Count: 3153

-------------------------------

Bokuto sat on the sofa, chewing on the end of his pen as he looked over his letter to Santa.  Granted, this wasn’t something most college students did, but it had been at the request of Akaashi.  Earlier in the day the former setter had mentioned that perhaps they should do something a little different for Christmas.

“Why don’t we write letters to Santa like we used to?  It might be kind of fun?”

Bokuto smiled to himself as he thought about it.  It was absolutely endearing to think that Keiji would want to do something like that.  He was always the more serious out of the two of them and so to hear him saying they should do this, obviously he was going to jump at the chance.  Heck, he’d even gone all out!  After agreeing to it he’d traveled to the campus bookstore and found some construction paper and a few other things in the art supply section.  Currently he had done his own little arts and crafts project.  If they were going to try recreating their primary school days then he was going to do it in style!

He’d taken a regular piece of red construction paper and cut it down to fit on a larger green piece giving it an awesome green trim.  Next he’d attempted to draw snowmen and snowflakes over it with some silver and gold markers, but he had never really been the artistic type.  The snowmen looked like blobs and the snowflakes looked more like stars with little smiley faces, but that was okay.  It wasn’t like anyone was ever going to see it.  This was just a fun, silly, sweet project and it really did warm his heart to do this.  

Currently he was attempting to finish up his Christmas list.  What should he ask Santa for?  He couldn’t remember a time in his life where he had been happier or when he’d felt more content.  As he sat there mulling this all over he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips.  It finally struck him what he wanted to ask from Santa this year.  It only took another few minutes until he was finishing up his list.

Oh yes.  This was perfect.

He heard footsteps coming down the hallway toward their small living room and glanced up to see Akaashi making his way to the sofa.

“Hey, hey, hey, Akaashi!  I finished my letter!” he said gleefully, waving his piece of paper in the air and seeing that Keiji had his as well.  “So now are we going to mail them to the North Pole like we used to?  How many stamps do you think we’ll need?  Do you think he’ll accept stickers?  I... may have forgotten about stamps,” he said with a little pout as he started to fold up his Christmas list.

“What?” Keiji asked with a little chuckle, a soft smile on his lips as Bokuto burrowed underneath his arts and crafts supplies looking for the cute stickers he’d found up at the front counter of the bookstore.  There were penguins, polar bears, reindeer… how could Santa not accept a kick ass Christmas list mailed to him with a reindeer sticker?!

“Well I mean… we have to mail them so that our wishes get to Santa and he can make our lists come true, right?  So what do you think?  Reindeer sticker or penguin sticker?” he asked, holding up the little packet containing the embellishments and smiling brightly.

“Bo?  You… You know we aren’t going to be sending these right?” Akaashi said with a light smile as he stood next to his boyfriend, resting his hand on the arm of the sofa as Bokuto looked up at him owlishly

“What?” Bokuto asked, hoping against hope that Akaashi wasn’t suggesting what he thought he was suggesting.

“Well… I thought it would be sweet to write these and then exchange them.  Santa can only do so much, right?” Akaashi asked, setting his own list down in front of Bokuto on their old coffee table before taking a seat on the arm of the sofa.  “Can’t you just consider me Santa’s little helper?”

Two things occurred to Bokuto at this moment.

One…

There was now a slight chance that Akaashi thought that he still believed in Santa and AHHHH!  That was so embarrassing!!!

Two…

There was now a slight chance that Akaashi was going to actually read his letter.  Literally take the letter from his grubby little hands and read the words he’d written that were only supposed to be seen by the big man at the North Pole or a poor homeowner who accidentally received Christmas letters!

Ab-so-lut-ley not!!!

“What?!  I mean… wouldn’t it be even cuter and more endearing for us to just… mail these away so that no one except Santa Claus sees them?  Only him?  Only him, Akaashi,” Bokuto said with wide eyes as Akaashi’s soft expression turned to one of confusion.

“Why can’t I see your list, Bo?” he asked curiously.  “Did you ask for something silly?  Did you ask for something sexy?”  A wide and teasing smile began to appear over Akaashi’s features as a blush began to spread over Bokuto’s.  Akaashi began leaning over, trying to catch sight of his partners letter.

The former Fukurodani captain shook his head wildly, clutching the Christmas wish list to his chest in a sort of death grip.

“N-No!  I… it’s not important, but it’s not supposed to be seen by mortal eyes!  Only by those of jolly old St. Nick!  So you can’t see it, Akaashi!  I’m sorry.  Those are the Christmas rules.  I don’t write’em.  I just follow’em,” he said, closing his eyes with a nod, missing the smitten look Akaashi sent his silly boyfriend.

“You know…,” the dark-haired man said with a little smile, standing up and moving to stand behind the sofa as his hands settled on the back of the cushions.  “... you not wanting me to see only makes me want to see it more, Kou.”

Bokuto could feel his heart beginning to beat wildly in his chest, his shoulders scrunching up as Akaashi stood behind him like that.  As he felt a pair of hands soothing over his shoulders he almost jumped out of his skin, but took a deep breath to calm his nerves.  “B-But… but the Christmas rules!” he weakly argued, feeling the way Akaashi’s hands were sweeping down his back as he attempted to curl forward to protect his precious letter.

“Never said I wasn’t a rule breaker,” Akaashi whispered against his ear before ten fingers dug into his ribs.

Bokuto positively shrieked, his arms snapping down against his sides even as he continued to clutch his letter to his chest.

“N-NO!  Ke-Keijihihihihihi!” he squeaked, leaning back against the sofa and trying to pin the man’s arms, sadly this only brought him closer to his evil boyfriends mouth.  As the fingers continued to skitter along his over sensitive ribs, vibrating quickly and drawing out ridiculous giggles, he soon felt Akaashi’s lips blowing little raspberries against the side of his neck.

Bokuto’s shoulders tried to scrunch up all the more and he shook his head, the giggles only intensifying at the added tickles.

“St-stahahahap!  No… no raspberries!  No rahahahaspberr-ihihihiahahas!” he cackled, stomping his socked feet on the floor as if that would help dull the ticklish shivers racing up his spine from the secondary attack.

“What’s the matter, Bo?” Akaashi cooed, his fingers wiggling lower and lower to tease and tweak the mans toned sides, eliciting a startled yelp as the poor former captain attempted to lean forward again to curl up.  “You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish would you?  Oh that’s too bad!  What a weakness to have!”

Akaashi was so evil!  The man didn’t have nearly as many sensitive spots as Bokuto did and so the silver-haired man was always at a disadvantage.  As Bokuto felt the fingers nibbling against the sides of his tummy he realized just how big of a disadvantage it was.

“AH!  N-NOT THEHEHERE!” he cried out in hysterical laughter, falling to the side to try and escape as he pulled his legs up, looking like a buff hedgehog.

“Oh?  Was that a bad spot, Bo?” Akaashi purred, one hand now tickling along the length of Bokuto’s side, kneading into his hip as his other hand reached town to scribble against the bottoms of his feet now that they were in range.

“Kei-Keijihihi!  Keiji nohohoahahahaha!” Bokuto cried out as he felt the teasing fingers tickle along his arches.  His legs straightened out to try and get his feet away, but sadly, his clever, horrible boyfriend seemed to be planning this.

Without his legs pulled up to protect his poor belly, Akaashi went in for the kill.  Two hands instantly snuck under his sweater and ten teasing fingers began to wriggle, scribble and tease all along his sensitive middle.

Bokuto absolutely lost it.

“STAHAHAHAP!  AHAHGOAHAHAHAD!” he howled, trying to turn over onto his stomach to stop the attack on his worst spot, but Akaashi was having none of it.  In a flash, Bokuto soon felt his boyfriend settling over his hips to pin him on his back, having jumped over the back of the sofa to make sure he couldn’t escape.

Bokuto still had one hand clutching his letter close to his chest as the other tried to fend off the hands hovering over his poor stomach, his sweater having ridden up in his struggles and exposing it to his boyfriend.

“Keiji!  Keiji plehehease… please no tihihi… no tihihickling there!” he giggled nervously, already feeling the phantom tickles grazing over his tum.

Akaashi feinted his hands down as if to attack, making Bokuto buck and snort without even being touched yet.  “Oh, Kou… I promise I won’t… if you let me have that letter?” he teased sweetly, wiggling his fingers and watching as Bokuto’s face turned crimson even as the giggling intensified from the teasing.

“I-I can’t… I cahan’t, AkaashiHIHIHIAHAHAHA!”  Before he could react, Akaashi had caught his free hand and pinned it to the sofa beside his head, his boyfriends free hand instantly going in for the attack.

Akaashi let his fingertips swirl and trace over Bokuto’s stomach, the muscles twitching and jumping under the light contact.

Bokuto was giggling like a maniac, trying desperately to free his one hand as he refused to let go of his letter for a second!  When he felt the fingers start to tickle faster, spidering all over his stomach and tickling from one side to the other, he couldn’t keep his legs from kicking out behind the man.

“WHY-HEHEHEHEHE?!” he begged, shaking his head as Akaashi snuck his tickling hand up to lightly tickle against Bokuto’s exposed underarm, making him arch up and laugh wildly.

“Because someone is trying to get on the naughty list by not letting me see his list.  So… I have to tickle, tickle, tickle him to show him the error of his ways,” Akaashi crooned, making Bokuto whimper as he heard that horrible, teasy, tickle talk.

He was a dead man.

“I’m sahahah-rry!  I’m… god n-no mo-ahahahahare!” he squealed through high pitched giggles as Akaashi continued the light tickling against his armpit, driving him absolutely crazy at the sensation it was causing.  It tickled so bad, sending little electric zips of ticklishness all through his body, but he knew the man was only biding his time.  “Stahahahap it!  Mehehehercy?!  Chahahanage spots!  Ch-Change spo-ahahahahahats!”  He was starting to babble now, just needing a break from this slow, gentle tickling!

“Oh?  You want me to go to a different spot?” Akaashi chuckled, lifting his hand from Bokuto’s armpit and hovering it in the air.  Bokuto’s eyes blinked up at his boyfriend, clearing away the tears of mirth as he saw the evil hand turning into a claw.  A claw that he knew from experience was devastating when used against his worst spot.

“No…,” he gasped, already trying to suck in his stomach as Akaashi lowered his hand closer and closer to his favorite target.

“You know how to make me stop, Kou…. my coochie-coochie Kou,” he purred, letting his fingertips rest against the warm skin.  Bokuto’s belly trembled slightly from more nervous giggles bubbling up and the anticipation of what was to come.

“K-Keiji… Keiji ple… oh pleasepleaseple-AHAHAHAHAHA!”

His time for bartering had run out.

Akaashi was not going to show him any mercy for his apparent naughtiness.

Oh no.

Bokuto was going to have to pay for his insolence with laughter.

Much, much laughter.

Akaashi’s clawed hand finally unleashed its devastating attack, vibrating rapidly against poor Bokuto’s tum and sending the silver-haired man into hysterics he didn’t even know was possible.

Bokuto’s laughter was loud and unrestrained, his head tossing back and forth as his feet kicked against the sofa sending cushions flying as Akaashi tried to remain seated on his hips.

“N-NO MOR-AHAHAHA!  I GIHIHIVE!  I GIHIHIHIHVE!!!!” he cried out, the hand that had been clutching the letter, letting go of the precious and secret list to reach down and grab onto Akaashi’s wrist to stop him.

Akaashi was too quick for him, however.  As soon as he saw that the list was free he moved his attacking hand to Bokuto’s chest to snatch up the prize.

“Now… lets see what you were so determined not to show me,” Akaashi teased as Bokuto felt his entire body flush up with embarrassment even as he continued trying to catch his breath from the intense tickle attack.  His hands instantly came up to cover his face as he panted, wondering if the sofa would be kind enough to open up and swallow him whole?

What was Akaashi going to think of him?!

Bokuto missed the way his partner smiled down at him and it wasn’t long before the former setter began to read the note out loud.

‘Dear Santa Claus!

It’s me… Bokuto Koutarou.  

I’m the kid who asked for a puppy eight years in a row when I was little?  I’m sure you remember because you have a great memory like that!  While I am still saddened that no puppy found its way to my home I totally get it.  Some other kid probably needed the puppy more and I’m okay with that!  The puppy was a winner either way and you probably made that other kids day!  

Besides, you always got me something awesome anyway.  Remember when you got me that remote controlled race car?!  Oh man that was so cool!!!  

I apologize for driving it into the neighbors koi pond...

It was a beautiful service they held for those poor fish….’

“Oh my god, Bo!  You didn’t?” Akaashi laughed, still seated on his poor boyfriends hips.  Bokuto only shook his head, his hands still covering his face even as his ears burned scarlet, showing his embarrassment outright.

Akaashi continued to read.

‘Thank you for not giving me coal that year for doing that!  I knew we were bro’s!!!

Anyway, I promise that I’m not going to ask for a puppy this year.  Or a race car.

This year… all I want is….’

Akaashi’s eyes widened and he felt his own cheeks turning pink , glancing from the decorated list to Bokuto.  The man was so tense underneath of him, as if waiting for some sort of teasing comment or rebuttal of some kind.

Akaashi’s eyes watered slightly and he ran a hand over his face to keep himself in check as he continued to read.  His voice just a little thicker.

‘... is to have a wonderful Christmas with Akaashi.

He is better than any puppy and any race car ever.  He is sweet and nice.  He makes me happier than I’ve ever been and helps me when I’m feeling low.  He always knows how to pick me up during those moments and I’ll always be grateful for that.  He is just… the best thing that has ever happened to me and I don’t think there’s anything I could ever ask for that would be better than spending the rest of my life with him.

Actually, if it’s okay, can I ask for one more thing?

Whatever magic or time you were planning to spend on me, just give it to Akaashi, okay?  He deserves it.

He deserves everything.

Thank you, Santa.

Love,

Bokuto Koutarou’

Bokuto lowered his hands as he heard Akaashi finishing his note, his eyes refusing to meet his boyfriends as his face continued to feel like it was on fire from embarrassment.

“I… I know I didn’t do it right and… and you’re probably gonna teas-...,” but his words were stolen away as he felt warm lips pressing against his own and strong hands gently cradling his cheeks.  The kiss was loving and wanting, making blood rush to his ears once more for a completely different reason.  The hands on his face were the only thing keeping him grounded, but even in that small touch he felt safe and wanted.

The kiss only lasted a few more moments before Akaashi was pressing his forehead against Bokuto’s, the captain glancing up to see warm blue eyes staring back at his own and a loving, if slightly watery, smile over his boyfriends lips.

“Oh!  Akaashi!  Why are you crying?  Don’t cry, Keiji,” Bokuto murmured softly, worry in his heart once more as he brought his own hands up to gently soothe away a few tears that had made their way down the setters cheeks.

“Sorry, Kou.  I promise they’re good tears… because I have the most incredible boyfriend in the world,” he murmured, giving a small chuckle as he closed his eyes and nuzzled into Bokuto’s palm.  “What did I do to deserve you?”

Bokuto couldn’t help smiling at that, his worry and embarrassment from before being replaced with nothing but warmth and love for his sweet Akaashi.

“So… I didn’t mess up our letters, right?” he asked softly, giggling as Akaashi gave his side a soft little tickle before soothing over it.

“No.  Not at all.  You’ve made my Christmas a million times better with your letter, Kou.  I love you,” Akaashi murmured softly, ducking down to press another kiss to Bokuto’s lips.

Carefully, Bokuto wrapped his arms around Akaashi’s waist, the setter gently lowering himself down to rest against his larger boyfriend.  Bokuto found himself smiling more and more as they kissed, nudging their noses together gently and opening his eyes to look at his amazing boyfriend.

“I love you too, Akaashi.  And… I meant what I wrote.  You are definitely better than a puppy,” he murmured, getting a chuckle from his boyfriend.

“Always happy to hear that,” he murmured, pecking his lips once more.  “Merry Christmas, Bo.”

Bokuto felt his smile absolutely beaming as he was kissed once more, his arms wrapped comfortably around his greatest gift.

Oh yes.  Definitely better than a puppy.

“Merry Christmas, Akaashi.”

[angelicthor]

billion dollar man - part 11

pairing: tony stark x reader

summary: after mounting bills and debt cause you to look at alternative means of making money, you’re thrown into a whole different kind of life when one of the most famous billionaires on the block offers to be your sugar daddy, of course in exchange for a different from of payment. non-superhero au.

warnings/genre: +18 only, sugarbaby/daddy relationship, slightly nat-centric chapter, FLUFF

masterlist | billion dollar man masterlist

a/n: this is the last of the reuploads! the next chapter is gonna be brand spanking new (and its super long oops), as always please let me know what you think! 

Staying up with Tony in his lab become routine for you after that night, whether it be going down with him knowing he couldn’t sleep or waking up to an empty bed and seeking him out, Tony’s lab soon became a familiar place to you. Sometimes Tony would work and talk to you as he did and others you simply went down there to sleep, curling up with a blanket on an empty workbench wanting him to know that he wasn’t alone, and you were happy to see that little by little Tony was indeed joining you to sleep more and more.

He still didn’t sleep enough but it was a start and one you would happily take.

Nat’s birthday was fast approaching, and you had helped everywhere you could with the planning, the moulin rouge themed party bigger than anything you had ever seen before in your life. Nat sure as hell had gone the full mile for this and nearly everything was ready, the both of you were shopping for your outfits today but there was one thing you had yet to do: get her a birthday present.

I mean, what do you buy for someone who has everything?

You had racked your brain for days and the closer her birthday got the more you began to panic. You were meeting up with Nat later and you wanted to have some sort of idea before you did so you could drop some subtle hints and test for a reaction before you actually bought anything.

The paper with ‘Nat’s present ideas’ scribbled at the top was void of any other writing – the same as it had been for the past 5 days – and with a huff you jumped from the couch, dropping the pen you were twiddling in your hands as you went off in search of Tony.

Tony was sitting in his office, eyes mulling over the papers in front of him when you sat yourself on his lap, arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled into his neck. Although his eyes never left the papers on the desk, a ghost of a smile played at his lips at the feeling of you pressed tightly against him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting Nat soon?” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss against your forehead as his hand gripped your waist keeping you close to him.

“I am but I have a problem.”

Tony’s eyes snapped up to yours, worry filling them instantly at your words as his gaze washed over you, searching for any signs of injury or distress. Unable to find any, Tony quirked a brow at you, leaning back in his chair as he gave you his full attention, “What’s wrong?”

“I have zero ideas on what to get Nat for her birthday and I don’t have long left! What if I can’t find anything in time and then I’m the only one that hasn’t got her anything and then I’ve hurt her-”

“Wait, wait; that’s what’s bothering you?” Tony asked you incredulously, staring at you with a slack jaw before he started to chuckle at your expense, “Y/N, baby, you don’t have to worry about that. Presents aren’t really a thing in this world, presents are pre-bought and delivered to parties by the host. It’s a little redundant to ask people to get you stuff when you already know exactly what you want and can afford it easily, this way there’s no disappointment or drama of ‘oh they never bought me anything’, you know?”

“Wait so no one gets anyone any presents? Ever? That seems really… cold. I mean, for me, presents were never about how much money someone spent or if it was something I really wanted, the best presents were those personal things that only that person could have thought to have got you. You know, the inside jokes and the special memories that only you have together.”

Tony watched you with a fond expression as your teeth worried at your bottom lip, troubled that gift giving simply wasn’t a custom here, one side of his mouth curling in an adoring smirk. “You’re something else, you know that?” He murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, finger grazing your cheek before he gently pulled you into a sweet kiss, “Don’t worry about Nat beautiful, she’s just happy to have you as a friend, trust me there’s not much out there that she doesn’t already own anyway.”

The sound of your ringtone cut through the room, Tony pressing one final lingering kiss to your lips before he let you go, watching as you pulled the phone from your pocket and saw the photo of you and Nat lighting up the screen. You smiled at the picture before you swiped to answer it, leaving Tony’s office as you headed to fetch your jacket, the phone pressed to your ear as you listened to Nat eagerly tell you how excited she was.

“Anyway, I’m sitting outside waiting for you to make an appearance so hurry the fuck up!” Nat cut the phone off without so much as letting you say ‘bye’ and you could only chuckle at her impatience. 

You stared at the photo of the two of you once more before it faded from the screen, the cogs in your brain starting to slowly turn as an idea began to form for her present. Clicking on your photos you scrolled through the many pictures you had stored there of you, Nat, and the rest of the gang – the silly selfies and off-guard shots brought a smile to your face and you remember the look Nat had when she saw your first photo together, the naturalness of it was something she was unfamiliar with, telling you that the only real photos she had where from professional photographers or paparazzi and she had practically begged you to send it to her.

That’s when it hit you like a tonne of bricks, the perfect present for Nat; a photo album filled with personal photos of her and Sam and her friends. Grinning to yourself, you pocketed the phone and dashed out the front door to meet with Nat, practically flinging yourself into her car as she laughed at your enthusiasm.

“Wow Y/N, keep this up and people might thing you actually missed me,” Nat teased as the car pulled off towards the designer stores Nat had requested you go to.

Given that Nat was throwing a Moulin Rouge themed party, it was no surprise she was requesting that people dress appropriately and when Natasha Romanoff requested something only a fool would say no. She had asked you to come shopping with her for her outfit, wanting your opinion before she purchased something and giving you the opportunity to get yours as well.

Entering the store, you were blown away by the various outfits on display; beautiful corsets embedded with diamonds on mannequins in the window whilst luxurious feather fans and headdresses lined the shelves. One thing you did notice however, was that the store was near empty, the only other people in it bar you and Nat seemed to work there but before you could question it, one of the women were approaching you with a wide grin.

“Miss Romanoff! We’re so glad to see you; per your request this is completely private so feel free to browse at your leisure and myself and Mary-Anne are here to help you with anything you need,” The woman - who’s name tag read Julianne - informed you, holding her arms out wide to gesture to the empty store.

You arched a brow at Nat in disbelief and she only gave you a sly smirk in response before dragging you over to look through everything in the store. Mary-Anne brought you both a glass of champagne as you surveyed everything in the store, Nat holding things against her body for some idea of how it would look, adding the one’s she liked to her every growing pile to try on later.

Nat also forced you to pick out the ones you liked, adding them to your own pile but you were far more reluctant than her, the idea of wearing something so form-fitting and revealing in front of so many people making you apprehensive.

Heading to the back where the changing rooms were you both tried outfits on for the other, leaving your favourites until last of course, and giving each other opinions on what looked good and what you could pair it with.

Whilst you changed into your final outfits, you called out to Nat through the wall of the dressing room; “Hey Nat, once we’re done here do you want to get a massage? My back is killing me.”

“Yeah of course, what did you do?”

Unable to think of an excuse you tried to brush of Nat’s concern, but you should have known by now that it wouldn’t have been that easy, “Oh, it’s nothing, just a little stiff is all.”

“Y/N.”

You could hear the warning tone in Nat’s voice as you finished adjusting your corset, cringing before you slowly opened the door and saw her standing there with her arms crossed and brow raised like a disappointed mother.

Glancing behind you at Julianne and Mary-Anne you made sure they were occupied and not eavesdropping, grabbing Nat’s arm and moving her further away from the two just to be safe before you told her the truth.

“It’s just, Tony’s being doing really well with therapy and he is sleeping more but he still spends a lot of time in the lab, so I started going down there with him; sometimes I can stay awake but sometimes I sleep on one of the work benches down there and it’s not exactly been great for my back.”

Nat’s expression morphed into one of concern, moving closer to reassuringly grip your forearms, “Why are you sleeping in the lab, why are you even down there to begin with when Tony has a perfectly good mattress to sleep on upstairs? Is he making you do this because I-”

“No! Nat, god no he doesn’t ask me to do it it’s just – I just don’t want him to feel alone you know? I think that’s always been part of the problem for him,” You mused, Nat nodding her head slowly in understanding, “Please don’t tell Tony Nat, he’ll only feel guilty and it’s not his fault I promise, besides it’s nothing a little massage therapy won’t fix.”

“Hey, you never have to worry about me telling anybody anything ok? You’re my best friend, your trust means everything to me, I’ll take it to the grave I promise but I do have one question; are you sure that what you feel for Tony is just ‘friendship’ or whatever bullshit you said this arrangement is?”

You froze at Nat’s question; you knew that you were worried about Tony, who wouldn’t be? And you’d do anything to help him. But you’d do the same for any of your friends. Wouldn’t you?

You did have to admit that whatever lines you did have were beginning to become blurred but whether it was extending past platonic at this point you couldn’t decipher and you knew it was dangerous territory to try to at this point.

Swallowing against the dryness in your throat, you shook your head of the dazed feeling that had come over you, giving Nat a soft smile in reassurance. “We’re just friends Nat, I promise.”

Nat hesitated for a moment and you panicked thinking she was going to question you more but to your relief she simply grinned and took your hand in hers, leading you to the huge mirror so you could appreciate what you and she were wearing.

“Wow, you look good,” You complimented, eyes wandering over her very eye-catching outfit. Nat’s outfit consisted of a corseted bodysuit and was completely embellished in tiny silver diamonds with black diamond detailing that caught every ounce of light, making her shimmer with every slight movement. The outfit was finished off with fishnet tights that had diamonds sown into them and black silk gloves that ended at her wrists, a black top hat with a diamond completed the ensemble and if you didn’t know any better you would think she was off to perform any second now.

Nat could sure as hell rock this look that was for sure.

“Correction; WE look fucking amazing,” Nat said with a pointed look, linking her arm through yours as you smiled at her reflection.

You did have to admit that you liked what you saw, the idea of wearing to Nat’s birthday party seemed less daunting then it did half an hour ago and you sure as hell couldn’t wait for a certain billionaire philanthropist to see you in it.

Unlike Nat’s outfit, yours came in two separate pieces, a blush pink satin corset and a matching pair of panties, the corset had minor diamond detailing on it - compared to Nat’s which was covered completely in them - but it did have a diamond fringe that followed the along the bottom of the corset, creating a V shape on your front and behind. There was a diamond embellished garter strap that came down from the corset and attached to the matching pink hold-ups you were wearing. Your white silk gloves reached your elbow and you had a white and pink feather piece clipped into your hair.

You both admired each other in the mirror some more before your eyes met Nat’s in the reflection, smiling at her as you linked your hands together, “You’re my best friend too ya know, well, you and Wanda.”

Much to your surprise Nat pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and you froze at the unexpected gesture before you melted into her touch, wrapping your arms firmly around her as you returned the embrace.

The two of you were pulled apart when Julianne asked if everything was ok or if there was anything else that you needed.

“Everything’s great: we’re definitely gonna be taking these.” Nat answered, the both of you heading back into the dressing rooms to quickly change back into your clothes.

Nat finished everything with the order and even paid for your outfit even though you told her not to and Mary-Anne arranged the delivery to be sent to Tony’s apartment given that you would be getting ready there. You didn’t understand why you couldn’t just take the one you had tried on home, but Nat explained that they were only for show, not for sale, the ones you both would be wearing would be made to order and delivered to you.

After a successful day of shopping together, you went out for lunch at Nat’s favourite bistro chatting more about her upcoming party and what she had planned, both of you laughing over the boys’ latest shenanigans before she asked you if she could meet Wanda. The request took you by surprise but what shocked you more was the fact that the Natasha Romanoff looked nervous, your wide eyes and slack jaw morphed into a warm smile as you reached across the table and took her hand in yours, telling her that you’d love for her to get to know Wanda at which a relieved smile played at her lips.

The conversation soon returned to the usual and you and Nat headed off to get massages, having the kinks and knots in your back worked out felt heavenly and the day you two had spent together had put you in amazing spirits so much so that as soon as Nat had dropped you back off at Tony’s you had headed back out to gather everything you needed to make Nat’s birthday present.

And that’s how Tony found you, sitting on the floor of his living room, an open scrap book in front of you and a stack of photos to your left, scissors, glitter, glue, and stickers surrounding you as you decorated the pages surrounding the photos you had glued to the center.  

Tony simply allowed himself to watch you unnoticed for a minute longer, allowing himself to take in the enthusiasm you crafted the book together with, the sparkle in your eyes and pleased grin on your lips causing him to smile too, your happiness far too contagious to be ignored.

He couldn’t quite place what it was about you that made you so damn special; your kind heart, your selflessness, your loyalty and dedication, the fact that you could – not matter the situation – get him to laugh, the way you had taken every single one of his problems in your stride, he honestly didn’t know. Tony was beginning to suspect that he would never understand how anyone could be so astounding without even realising but as he watched you carefully add glitter to the page you were working on, tongue poking slightly out as you concentrated on your design, he knew that he had never made a greater choice then when he chose you.

a/n: i don’t have a tag list but if you want alerts please follow @angelicthorwrites and turn on notifications

[rami-hoe]

The Soldier and the Nurse

Part three

Pairing: Snafu x oc

Word Count: 1.1k 

TW: war, injury

Two and a half months. It took me two and a half months to get back on my feet, but it went by in the blink of an eye. I got my papers way too soon- my body may have been ready but my mind sure as hell wasn’t. But that wasn’t something you could just come out and say. I was a Marine; I was supposed to want to get right back up there and start fighting for my country again. It wasn’t that I’d lost my pride in the cause. We were still fighting for the right reasons, and we needed all the men we could get out there, but I could admit to myself that I wasn’t ready to be one of them again. I just needed a little more time here. Another week and I’d be fine. Another week and I’d be ready to pick up my mortar and get back out there.

“Another week wouldn’t make any difference.” I blinked in surprise. Madeline was usually such a positive person. She sat on the bed next to mine, facing me. She leaned across the gap to take my hand. “Merriell, you’re not feeling this way because you don’t want to go back right now,” she said. “You’re feeling this way because you don’t want to go back at all.”

I straightened my back and pulled away from her. “What the hell is that s’pose to mean?”

“You’ve seen what’s out there,” she said. “It’s easy to want to go and fight and be a patriot when you don’t know how bad it is, when it’s all songs and glory and fabulous parties when it’s all over. But if you’ve actually come face to face with the reality?” She hopped over to my bed and sat beside me. “It’s a little more difficult then.” Her hand moved up to my shoulder. “You’re not supposed to want to go to war, Mer. Not if you know what war really is,” she said.

I focused on where the bed frame had scratched the floor as I mulled over what Madeline had said. She made a good point. When I first enlisted, the only thing I knew about war was what I had seen on the posters. The brave patriotic soldier marching off to defend freedom, that was what I thought it would be. I knew better now. I’d seen the dirt and the mud. I’d had friends die right next to me and I’d gone to sleep in bloodstained clothes. I’d killed, and I’d killed without feeling a goddamn thing. That was what war was. It brought out the worst in each of us, turned us into something other than human.

“Exactly.” I hadn’t realized I had been talking out loud until Madeline replied. “Now that you know that, you can’t go back to being that naive boy who was excited to get a gun in his hands,” she said.

“I know.” I snorted. “I wish I could be that stupid again.”

Madeline laughed and rested her head on my shoulder. “Be glad you’re not,” she said. “Being that stupid would get you killed.”

“I don’t wanna die out there,” I said. I’d never said it out loud before. I never thought I would, but there it was, out in the open. It lingered in the air, and for a moment I was terrified of what it might do out there. But then she smiled.

“You’re not gonna die, Mer,” she said. “You’re gonna go back out there and help them win the war, and then you’re gonna come find me and get your victory kiss.”

“I gotta win a war to get a kiss?” I asked.

She grinned. “I promise it’ll be worth it,” she said.

“I know,” I said.

She laughed. “I’m flattered,” she said as she stood up. “I should get back to work.”

The second she started to walk away, it came out. I grabbed her hand and stood up as she turned back to me. “I don’t want a kiss,” I said, pulling her closer. “I want you.”

Her brow furrowed and she chuckled. “Well, I like to think I’d be there to give you that kiss.”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I want you. After all this shit is over, I want you. I wanna be with you.” I stepped towards her. “I know this sounds like nurse fever, but that’s not it. Shit… Maddy, you are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, and I don’t want this to end with the war.” Her lips parted, but she gave no sign of her reaction. “I’ve never met anyone half as kind, a quarter as smart, or a fuckin’ fifteenth as beautiful.” She laughed at that. I took it as a good sign. “When I’m with you, I just feel good. I don’t wanna stop feelin’ that way.” The words didn’t sound right, but they were the best I could do. I was never good at finding the right thing to say. “I’ve never felt like this before, and I know a thousand guys have said that but-” She stepped forward and captured my lips in a soft kiss. Her hand slid up my chest to the back of my neck as my arm curled around her waist.

“You shouldn’ta done that,” I said when she pulled away. “Now I don’t got any reason to win.”

She smiled and rested her forehead against mine. “How about this,” she started. “You win the war, and you get to take me back to New Orleans.”

“You wanna come to New Orleans?”

She shrugged. “The French Quarter sounds interesting. I wouldn’t mind you showing me around.” She took a step back and glanced down at my half packed bag. “You should finish packing. Don’t wanna be late for departure.”

“I can stand to be a little late,” I said.

“But I don’t think your CO will agree,” she replied.

“That’s that whole smart thing I mentioned before,” I said.

Her giggle was a beautiful sound, but her smile soon faded into something more somber. “I guess we should say goodbye.”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “No goodbye. Just ‘see ya soon.” She squeezed my hand. “Do you speak French, by any chance?” I asked. Her lips pursed and she shook her head. I brushed her hair away from her ear and leaned in to whisper “je t’aime, Madeline.” I pulled back and smiled down at her. “I tell you what it means the next time I see ya.” She reached into her apron and pulled out a small notebook and scribble something down.

“If you can’t find me after you’re discharged, this is my home phone number,” she said as she handed me the paper.

“You promise you’re gon’ answer?” I asked, and she nodded.

“I promise,” she said. “See ya soon, Mer.”

“See ya soon.”

[narutxuzumaki]

for the prompt: naruhina + being office co-workers

TO DO LIST

Reschedule meeting with Granny

Write up the finance paper for tomorrow

Read all my emails

Respond to Gaara. 

 Get Hinata to do that cause she’s awesome

Pretend that I know what I’m talking about when I meet with Kakashi

DON’T

Don’t bend Hinata over your desk. You both have shit to do

Don’t waste 10 mins of your time thinking abt eating her out

Don’t actually eat her out

Don’t get nearly caught by granny again

Don’t say you love her in the office!!!! V stupid, not romantic at all. Dumb              idea

 He groans loudly and flops back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. So far, he’s done shit all except make this list. The disadvantages of working with your girlfriend: he’s barely ever productive. He snorts and pushes himself up. Who’s he kidding? Hinata’s was effective and timely, her work was always good quality and she always pushed him to work harder. She had been the one to suggest making lists to keep his day on track. Yeah, his girlfriend was awesome.

None of that stopped it from all being torturous. (Who would have thought that there was a reason why work relationships were so discouraged? Certainly not him).

Apparently getting boners when your girlfriend – was ruthlessly efficient and good or wore skirts that were short or skirts that were too long or smiled or squinted her eyes or breathed for that matter – was considered unprofessional. They could all colour him shocked at that fact.

Had been two years since Hinata had started working alongside him and nearly five months since they had started going out. It was all great, except for the fact that he could barely complete his work and that he fantasised about burying his head between her legs in all types of boring and impractical places and that no one else was allowed to know. Yay co-workers.

Which was why the list was created. He couldn’t exactly have his ways with her with all their colleagues milling about. Dragging each other into closets and the photocopier room was all good fun for the first couple of months, wasn’t so great when you very nearly get caught and threatened with HR for eating your girlfriend in the meeting room. The list was a way of keeping some of his sanity.

Sai always remind him that this is stupid and if Hinata has already figured it out that she will but Sai is also a massive dick that needs to stop mooching off him and move out so.

Except, it wasn’t working, nearly as well as it was meant to. Not now that Naruto was certain that he’s met-the-love-of-my-life-sign-me-up-for-the-first-Disney-wedding-please. It was becoming harder to avoid doing all the things on the list when Hinata’s smile is enough to make his heart swell up to double its size and now that he’s seen all sides of her. He’s seen her happy and sad and crying and insecure and angry and he falls more and more in love with her with each reveal.

“You doing another list?” Hinata asks, going over to him from his desk. He quickly covers the list with some papers that he needs to sort and give to Kakashi. She thankfully doesn’t mention his hasty cover-up of it. Instead, leaning against his desk. His hand twitches, he wants to hold her hand so badly but her hands are in her lap and it’d be too obvious if he reached out to hold one. No hand holding, he thinks vaguely, reminding himself to add to the list.

“Yeah,” he laughs sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck. “I have so much to do still.”

“Don’t be so embarrassed,” Hinata says tsking, “You know what my planner is like.” And he actually laughs at that cause Hinata’s planner is immaculate.

He signs into his emails, set on getting through them all but freezes at the sight of her applying a ruby red lipstick. Hinata’s eyes glitter with intent, smile amused and cheeks are flushed. He gulps hard but Hinata only smiles at him and pushes herself off his desk.

“I’ll see you later Naruto. Good luck with the work.” He swallows hard as she leaves, pulling out his list to scribble one more thing onto it. He’d need all the luck he could get if this was how his day was going to go.

DON’T

Think about kissing Hinata’s lipstick away

Think about Hinata kissing other places

THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR A BONER

*

TO DO

Pay attention to the meeting

Ask Hinata for her notes at the meeting. Her notes are better

DON’T

Stare at Hinata’s ass

Stare at Hinata’s lips

Get caught by Sakura for staring at Hinata

Think about fucking Hinata in the meeting room

Get a boner

Get threated with a sexual harassment case for getting a boner 

To say that Naruto has no idea what this meeting about is a small statement. He hasn’t listened to what Kakashi has been saying for a good hour. Too busy mesmerised by Hinata being awesome. Does anyone understand how unbelievably hot it is to have your girlfriend take charge in a meeting and being good?

He won’t lie and say that her ass in that skirt is the best thing since fucking sliced bread. It really doesn’t help with keeping his mind on track.

He hasn’t been particularly good at avoiding any of the things on his list as of late. He chalks it up to last night. Hinata had stayed the night at his. He had woken up with her in his arms, soft and sleepy and beautiful. He couldn’t be blamed for his failure to compartmentalise, not entirely at least.

The meeting ends and everyone files out until its just him and Hinata. Being alone with her like this does something strange to him. Makes him feel all hot and twists up his all his insides. He’s not a horny rag-rat. He’s not but being so close to her, alone with her and yet not even being able to hold her hand or hug her or brush her hair out of his face messes with his head.

“I liked your ass in that.” Horror fills his stomach and Hinata’s face goes all bright red and no, this isn’t the time to be thinking about following that blush with his tongue. “I meant, I like what you said in there,” he says quickly, cursing all the while in his head. Hinata’s still blushing but the flush slowly recedes and she shifts towards him. So close to him that he could just touch her.

“I’m glad you enjoyed both,” She says slowly and there’s something heady and promising in her tone. It’s enough to make his mouth go dry and to lean towards her. They’re so close that if someone were to walk in, they wouldn’t be able to mistake what was happening. That no, this isn’t just two co-workers but something much more. His senses are full of Hinata and he can’t bring himself to care. Hinata is smarter though because she gently pushes him away, hands resting on his forearm for a moment too long and pulls away. Putting distance between the two. Disappointment fills the pit of his stomach but that soon transforms into heat at her next words.

“I’ll see you in the next meeting Mr Uzumaki.” And that was hot. He would have to add that moment to the Don’t list, he thinks to himself vaguely, watching her leave the room.

*

TO DO

Prepare for the court case tomorrow

Meet with client

Call Iruka to organise meal

DON’T

Ask Hinata to move in with you when she comes in

Shirk off your work so you can tell her that you love her

His sanity is hanging by a thread. Every time he sees Hinata at work, he can feel those three words dancing on the tip of his tongue. She had been eating her sandwich by his desk and all he could think to tell her that he loved her.

It was quickly becoming a problem.

Sai and to a lesser extent Sakura had both told him to man up and tell her. But once again, Sai was a dick. Sakura was a lot more sensible and steadier but he wasn’t just about to reveal his feelings to Hinata just because fucking Sai and Sakura said to.

“You’re distracted again,” Hinata’s voice pulls him out of his reverie and he sighs, pushing his hair back. She’s been helping him to prepare for this case for the last hour but they’ve gotten through only part of the research that she’s organised. He knows she’s confused and frustrated and he feels bad. He does but right now, he just needs space. He’s too scared of what he might blurt out if he’s in her presence for any longer. They had been dating for nearly six months now but everything was still fairly new. They were still co-workers. He would never be able to forgive himself if he fucked it up cause he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Sorry, am gonna just hit the toilet,” he lies quickly. Hinata only sighs but he’s up and out before he can even wait for a response. He knows that he’s being stupid and unfair by acting like this. Knows that Hinata is probably in there worrying about him, mulling over his every word. He doesn’t want to ever make her feel sad, refuses to be anything like her dad. He just wants to make her happy but he’s been fucking even that as of late.

He’s never been one to run or hide. It’s always been his motto to face things on, to keep on going but with this stupid confession, he feels like some stupid kid again. Saying I love you to every single person that showed even the barest hint of kindness to every person except the ones that truly matter.

He fists are half clenched but he rolls his shoulder and breathes deeply. This is Hinata, good, kind, smart Hinata. There’s nothing to be scared about, he tries to tell himself but fear still settles in the pit of his stomach.

He walks back into the office but freezes at the sight before him. Hinata is behind his desk, holding the most recent list he had scribbled out. His brain short-circuits and falls into a frenzy and she’s the one blurting things out and stumbling over her words – “You love me?”

“Yes. What? Yes. Wait what?” No one knows this except Sai and Sakura and they had both just guessed. No ones ever asked before.

Hinata is looking up at him with eyes so big and bright, sparkling with happiness and tears and he moves towards her unbidden cause comforting Hinata when she’s upset is all muscle memory. Except she’s not upset. She’s blushing and there are tears even though she’s smiling as well and he just blurts out the truth because that’s the least confusing bit.

Hinata finally notices his panic, taking pity on him and explains.

“You’ve been acting strange all day. I thought you were stressed and wanted to help you sort some things on your list,” she explains this quickly, looking more and more guilty with each word. He tries his best to smile at her and shakes off her attempt to apologise.

“Don’t worry about it.” What he really means to say is – do you feel the same? He doesn’t cause he’s absolute chicken shit.

“Did you really mean what you said?” Hinata asks, her voice tiny and hopeful. He puffs out indignantly because of course, he does. Can’t imagine a time or moment where he doesn’t.

“Of course. I love you Hinata.” He says the words cause even if she doesn’t feel the same, she deserves to hear them said to her.

One moment Hinata is behind his desk and the next, she’s in his arms, kissing him, fingers twisted in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp and his hands are touching everywhere, as much as he can. Her waist, her face, hips, hair.

She pulls away and this is the moment where she’s going to push him away but his heart jumps at what she says: “I love you so much,” she says all this breathless. It’s him now pulling her closer, kissing her deeper, searching for purchase.

The kiss is heated and searing, she tastes of something sweet and his head is dizzy with want and Hinata and her confession is echoing in his head. Someone could walk in right now and he wouldn’t care. Not when she’s kissing him like this as if it’s the only thing that matters. Nope, Naruto isn’t stopping for anyone, he thinks to himself as he pushes her back against his desk.

[johaerys-writes]

Dorian Pavus x Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 3: Keeping Face

The day started off on the wrong foot when Tristan was forced to attend yet another dreaded war council meeting when he would much rather have another drink in the tavern. When his advisors confront him about his decisions... he gets extra salty.

Read here or on AO3!

*****************************************************************

Another cup of mulled wine later, Tristan left the thick warmth of the tavern and hurried towards the Chantry building. He noticed a slight stagger in his step and, for once, was thankful for the cold wind in his face.

It was probably not the best idea to show up before his advisors somewhat inebriated, but there was no other way he could bear these dreadfully long and tedious meetings. He pushed the heavy oaken doors of the building open, and was met with the bowing heads of Chantry sisters and the mumbled greetings of visiting dignitaries. For a long moment, he considered turning back on his heel and fleeing back to the cosy tavern, but he steeled himself to walk down the long corridor. His stomach was churning slightly. He blamed the wine.

Leliana, Josephine, Cullen and Cassandra were talking in hushed whispers when he walked in the council room. They all turned to look at him, faint disapproval on their faces.

“You are late” Leliana said curtly.

“Apologies, Sister. It was a busy morning. You’d be surprised how many people have been vying for my attentions lately.”

“Is that wine I smell?” Cassandra said, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

Tristan shot the Seeker his most icy glare. “I don’t see what that has to do with the meeting.”

Cassandra bristled at his curt tone, but went on with her attack regardless. “What manner of drunkard reeks of wine when it’s not even noon yet?”

“Why does it matter if I have a drink or two? I’m here, am I not? Besides” Tristan said flatly, “you could use a cup of mulled wine yourself, Seeker. You seem a bit on edge.”

Cullen’s eyes hopped from Cassandra’s horror-stricken face to Tristan’s and back. Tristan could never tell what the Commander was thinking behind that serious face, but, damn him, it was an attractive one. Golden curls combed neatly back, honey brown eyes peering from underneath slightly furrowed brows, sharp cheekbones and a chiselled jawline covered in blond stubble. He stood almost a head over everyone in the room, arms folded over his broad chest as he observed Cassandra’s outrage silently. He was so handsome, Tristan occasionally forgot that he used to be a Templar.

The Commander cleared his throat, and Cassandra turned to look at him, lips pursed. “I’m afraid there isn’t enough time to discuss the Herald’s drinking habits, Seeker. I have to oversee the training of the new recruits and several armoury reports to finish, and we’re already running behind. Shall we begin?” he said, and bent his head over the war table again.

“Yes, let’s” Josephine chimed in, not even noticing Cassandra’s scowl. “First on the agenda, Marquis DuRellion has extended his hospitality to the Inquisition by allowing us to occupy Haven until further notice.”

“Has he, truly?” Tristan said incredulously. About a month back, the noble had visited Lady Josephine’s office in a fury, intending to throw them all out of Haven on accounts of them supposedly having acted against the Chantry’s and Divine Justinia’s orders when the Inquisition was founded. He had left shooting them all murderous glances from his fancy carriage, after Tristan had threatened to use said carriage as a target for his throwing knife practice. “It seems he took my warning seriously.”

“Not quite, Herald” Josephine replied, her polite smile fading for only a moment. “After your… intervention, I investigated the wrights of ownership of Haven. It seems the Marquis’s claim on the land is not as strong as he thought. I sent a letter to Empress Celene’s associates, and they confirmed that the Marquis would not be able to order our eviction without the Empress’s agreement. The Marquis followed up shortly after with his own response, allowing us to stay. He would hardly want to lose face after the Empress herself was involved.”

“Well done, Josie” Leliana said, with that smile she reserved only for her friend.

“Yes, that’s marvelous” Cassandra broke in impatiently. “Now for the more pressing matters.” She turned around to face Tristan. “The mages are out of control.”

Tristan resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he returned her glare. “Is there a particular reason why you’re looking at me when you say that?”

“Because this is your doing” Cassandra said, wagging her finger at him for emphasis. “You were the one who offered the mages a full alliance. Now they’re all here, and we do not have the means to contain them. We cannot have them fighting with the Templars, like they were doing yesterday.”

“You cannot blame me for this. There was a decision to be made and I made it. Besides, I would hardly call yesterday's event fighting. It was just a row. Cullen and I took care of it.”

“You are naïve if you think it was just a row. This was only the beginning. Soon, they’ll be fighting amongst themselves.”

Tristan opened his mouth to interject, but Leliana interrupted him. “I have to agree with Cassandra. Discontent among our ranks is growing. The Templars and the Chantry are not happy that the Inquisition chose to side with the mages. The mages, on the other hand, have largely been divided between those who want Independence and those who still support the Circles. It won’t be long until we have more unrest.”

“If the Templars and the Chantry are not happy, then they might as well leave” Tristan spat with more distaste than he had intended. He took a short breath, trying to school the vehemence out of his voice. “Why do we need them anyway? We have enough power now to close the Breach. As for the mages, I believe it’s rather clear what the Inquisition supports. Those Circle ‘enthusiasts’ you’re talking about will have to come around to the idea eventually.”

“The Templars are needed here” Cullen replied matter-of-factly. “There needs to be someone able to face abominations should they occur. We are in short supply as it is. I suggest we start training more of our soldiers as Templars. It’s the least we can do to maintain some semblance of order.”

Tristan stared at the Commander as if he had punched him in the gut. “Train more Templars? That would be like restoring the Circles! After all we’ve done to set mages free, we’re going to place them under Templar watch once again?”

“It may not be an ideal solution, but it might help restore the public’s trust in the Inquisition” Josephine said. “Many were sceptical about our allegiance with the mages, and a few nobles have expressed their concerns outright. People trust Templars. Having more of them around could not hurt.”

Tristan could not believe his ears. He twisted the ring on his finger, struggling to keep his composure. After everything that had happened, after risking his life and the Inquisition’s reputation to give the mages a chance to finally be free of Chantry and Templars, one word from these people before him and it would be like putting the shackles back on their wrists.

He could not allow this. He would not allow this.

Yet, he had to be diplomatic about it. Keeping the grinding of his teeth to a bare minimum, he peered at every advisor in turn before he spoke. “Bringing more Templars into our ranks is not a solution. At least not a permanent one. It might solve the problem temporarily but it won’t be long until we are facing the same issues. Let’s not forget how the war between the Templars and the mages was started in the first place. There has to be a different way.”

There was a brief silence amongst the advisors, before Leliana spoke. “That is true. We have a very delicate situation on our hands. We cannot allow anyone to think that we are picking yet another side. At least for now. We have to act fast, and attract as little attention as possible. What our followers are lacking at the moment”, she glanced at Cassandra as she said this, “is a common goal. A shared vision will unite them, and divert them from any internal conflict. I suggest we advance towards the Breach as soon as possible. We should not allow any further delay.”

“I agree with Leliana” Cassandra said. “The sooner we march the better. But the Templar discussion is not yet over. After we return from the Breach, we will need to convene again.”

“Provided I’m still alive” Tristan added sourly. Cassandra’s lips were pressed in a tight line, but she said nothing.

Josephine paused her incessant scribbling to lift her gaze to Tristan. “Before this meeting is concluded, Herald, there is another matter I would like to discuss. It concerns your lineage.”

Tristan returned her gaze levelly, keeping his face as expressionless as he could. He knew the matter of his ancestry would come up eventually, but he had hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. “What of it, Lady Ambassador?”

“I would like to dispatch a courier asking the banns of House Trevelyan to align themselves with us. Your family’s support of the Inquisition could add great legitimacy to our cause.”

“With the Trevelyans, my presence may close more doors than it opens” Tristan replied quickly. “My relations with my family are shaky at best. I would not dwell on it too much if I were you.”

“I…see” Josephine said reluctantly. She prepared to note down his response, when she suddenly paused, her pen hovering over the paper. “If I may, Herald, I think you might be too quick in dismissing your family’s support of you. I have received several notes from your Lady Mother, and she-“

“You have spoken with my mother?”

Tristan was sure his heart had stopped beating momentarily. It had been close to two years since he had last seen Esme Trevelyan, since he had left the Trevelyan mansion in Ostwick, never to return. It was by sheer luck that the bloodhounds she had sent after him never managed to sniff him out. He should have known she would find out about the Inquisition eventually, but the mere thought of her knowing where he was still filled him with dread. If he never saw her again, it would be too soon.

“Well, yes” Josephine said, blinking. “If I may be frank, she seemed quite concerned. Taking into consideration that you are the sole heir of the Trevelyan family, surely she would be happy to at least discuss the possibility of-“

“I am not the sole heir!”

Every eye in the room fixed itself on him. Tristan could hear his pulse beating in his throat as he returned their startled gazes. He caught himself clutching the ring on his finger, so hard his knuckles had gone white, and he hastily let his hands fall at his sides. Even if he could find the words, he would never be able to tell them that he hadn’t always been the sole heir. It would be even more difficult to explain that since becoming the Maker-damned sole heir, he would have gladly sold his soul to the highest bidder just so he could turn back time and not be.

“What I meant to say“ he said slowly, carefully, in an attempt to smooth the tension over, “is that my being the sole heir has absolutely nothing to do with it. My mother has never wanted me anywhere near the Trevelyan fortune or name. It’s best if we just leave things as they are. Support will come eventually, Lady Josephine. Nobles are always quick to sniff out opportunities, of that I can assure you.”

He thought he saw Leliana glancing at his ring, but when he looked at her she was peering straight in his eyes. “I believe you have made your point clear, Herald.” She lowered her voice, her icy blue gaze boring deep into him. “Very clear.”

It was a relief when Josephine announced the council meeting officially over. With a curt nod he bid them all good-day and exited the stuffy room. His heart was still thumping in his chest as he walked down the long, dark corridor of the Chantry Building. That business with his mother, that was a close call. Too close perhaps. At least he had managed to evade it somewhat. For now.

He almost let out a sigh of relief, when he remembered Leliana’s eyes on his ring. Fear gripped at him with icy claws. Did she know? But how could she? Could her agents have found out about his past? Of course, they must have. Leliana’s agents could find a needle in a haystack. He silently cursed himself. How could he have been so careless, so naïve, so fucking dense-

Easy. Easy now. No reason to panic. Not yet. He took a deep breath. Even if Leliana knew, there was nothing she could do to him. His past was a burden that only he was meant to carry.

He ran a hand through his hair, willing himself to calmness, and walked on. He still had a mountain of reports to go through after the events in Redcliffe castle and a few weapon requisitions that needed his attention, but not before another warm drink and perhaps a game of Wicked Grace with Varric at the tavern. That should set his frayed nerves straight.

“Herald, may I have a word?” he heard Cassandra’s voice behind him.

With a bit more reluctance than he wanted to let show, he turned around slowly to face her. “Yes, Seeker?” he made himself say through clenched teeth.

“Walk with me” she said, stepping ahead of him. The woman was so used to giving orders, that she didn’t even wait to see if he would follow. He gingerly obeyed, and they were soon walking silently side by side on the faded red carpet along the narrow corridor.

Once they were safely out of earshot of the crowd gathered in the Chantry building, he stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye. “Well?”

Cassandra cleared her throat. “I am not sure how to tell you this, so I am just going to say it.” She inhaled sharply and looked away. “There have been some… rumours.”

“Rumours? What rumours?”

“About…you.”

“Rumours about me? I’m intrigued.” He always took a tiny bit of pleasure hearing all the outrageous stories people said about him. Most of them were spread as anti-Inquisition propaganda by the clerics, no doubt, but were enjoyable nonetheless.

“Yes. I am afraid they involve… another person as well.”

“Oh?” This was getting better by the minute. “And who might this person be, pray tell? Last I heard, I was participating in orgies with abominations and murderous apostates. I can’t wait to hear who I’m sleeping with next.”

Cassandra sniffed her disapproval at his mocking tone. “I would advise you to take this seriously, Herald. Your reputation and that of the Inquisition is of utmost importance for our mission. That being said… There’s been talk of you spending time with… with the Tevinter.” She uttered the word as if it were an accusation in and of itself. “You know of whom I speak” she added quickly, when he lifted an eyebrow at her inquisitively.

Tristan knew very well of whom she spoke, but decided not to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging that shared knowledge. “I am afraid you will have to be a bit more specific, Cassandra. I’ve met quite a few Tevinters lately. You know, whilst fighting a Venatori legion trying to subdue the whole world to their will, and all that. ”

Cassandra rolled her eyes and huffed. “I am talking about Dorian Pavus.”

“What of him?” It was evident Tristan was wearing her patience thin, but he just couldn’t resist pushing her a little bit more.

“I am sure you are aware of people’s conception of Tevinter mages. There are many who think that they are untrustworthy and dangerous. Having one amongst our ranks is controversial enough. But the Herald of Andraste associating with him so publicly… would be unwise.”

Tristan straightened his back so that he stood somewhat taller than the seasoned warrior, and looked at her over his nose. “I will have to remind you, Seeker, that Lord Pavus risked his life to help our cause, when he had little to gain from it. I wonder whether those ‘people’ you talk of would have done the same. We wouldn’t even be here having this conversation were it not for him. The Inquisition owes a heavy debt to Dorian, and it’s time people start acknowledging that.”

Cassandra gaped at him, eyes wide in shock. “No one is questioning the importance of Lord Pavus’s actions. But as the Herald of Andraste, you need to…”

He interrupted her with an impatient wave of his hand. “I know what my obligations are as the Herald of Andraste, Cassandra. But disregarding valued members of the Inquisition based on ridiculous prejudices just so a couple Chantry sisters can sleep safer at night is not something I am about to do.” He turned to leave, but paused to look at her over his shoulder. “I believed that partaking in gossip was beneath you. I guess I was wrong.”

He walked away, leaving Cassandra boiling in embarrassment. A small, barely perceptible smile spread on his face. He always did have a flair for the dramatic.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Twenty-Seven: Many Pages ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, PTSD ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

The only reaction is a quick, deep breath through his nose, eyes snapping open. Heart pounding in his ribcage, Uchiha Sasuke stares up at the ceiling, mind still lost in a battlefield miles and years away. Muscles are all tightened as he expects a blow to the chest - he can still see his own sword in the hand of the enemy. Uchiha Madara was about to stab him in the heart, he was -!

...no. No, he’s not there anymore. He’s here. Home. The war’s long over, Madara long dead...for good, this time. An arm lifts to sling over his eyes, struggling to calm his body down with his mind’s realization.

He’s safe.

After several deep breaths, he looks over to Hinata, her back turned to him as she curls on her side. Part of him wants to roll over and pull her into his arms...but he knows that will wake her, and he doesn’t want her losing any sleep. Instead, he slips out from under the sheets and makes his way to the kitchen.

Putting on the kettle for a mug of tea, he braces hands against the edge of the counter, staring out the window over the sink. A hip cocks, shuffling trademark pajama sweatpants. He keeps having these damn nightmares...why? It’s been so long, and they’re so random...it’s like there’s nothing he can do about it. And it’s maddening…! Even the occasional talk with his brother’s wife - a medic, like Sakura - hasn’t brought him any relief.

“...Sasuke…?”

His head bows with a sigh. “...I was hoping you’d keep sleeping.”

A hand righting the strap of her nightgown, Hinata steps up beside him, brows wilted in concern. “...another nightmare…?”

His jaw grits. Another one. He hates that there’s enough for her to guess. “...yeah.”

“Do you...want to talk about it?”

“It’s one of the same...back when Madara impaled me on my own damn sword.”

Almost like a reflex, Hinata puts an arm around him, hand coming to rest against the bare scar of the exit wound along his back. “I’m sorry...I still see when Pein did the same to me with one of those...a-awful rods. Then I wake up, and the scar starts to ache…”

“...yeah.”

“...I guess the therapy hasn’t been helping, has it…?”

“Not yet, at least.”

The kettle starts to whistle, and Hinata interrupts his efforts and fetches it herself, grabbing a second mug.

“You should go back to bed.”

“If you’re awake, so am I.”

“That’s not -”

Pale eyes give him a glance that make it clear: she won’t hear an argument. So, Sasuke just sighs, a hand running back through his hair as he takes a seat beside her. His wife wastes no time in leaning carefully against his side, holding her mug in both hands to feel the warmth.

“...I dunno what else to do.” Sasuke stares into the jade liquid of the matcha. “...I’m so...scared that one of these days, I won’t wake up fast enough, and I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me, Sasuke.”

“You can’t know that.”

“...maybe not. But I still trust you.” She heaves a sigh, thinking for a moment. “...was there anything else she suggested…? Any other methods that might help?”

Silence, and then, “...she thought that...writing things down might do something, but...I don’t know. It sounds pointless.”

“Well, maybe it’s worth a try…?” Those damnable doe eyes give him a glance. “...it can’t hurt, at any rate...right?”

“...I guess not.”

“I used to keep a journal when I was young. It would help me feel more...organized in my thoughts. And I could look over them, and better see how I thought. Maybe...something like that can help you get things out of your head and down onto paper. Help you move past them.”

Sasuke mulls that over in silence, sipping his tea and staring at the table. Would just...writing something down really do anything to the memory? How would that even work? “...I’ll give it a try in the morning. For now...I just want to sit up for a bit.”

“All right.”

Eventually he convinces her to go back to bed, promising he’ll join her soon. “I just need a little more time to think. But you need your rest.”

“So do you!”

“If I try to sleep now, I’ll just lie awake. Once I’m groggy, I’ll go back to bed.”

“...oh...all right.”

Once he’s sure Hinata’s back to sleep, Sasuke retreats to his half a mug of tea, staring at it as he contemplates retaking his seat.

...maybe…

Looking to the door to the study, Sasuke considers it a moment...and then makes his way into the room. It’s mostly filled with police documents. Between the pair of them, they’ve quite a collection. But they’re both also quite tidy, and the desk only has a few flyaway papers he’s quick to sort once he flicks on a lamp.

From a drawer he pulls out a sheet of blank paper, and a pen. The tea’s set at the far end of the desk as he slides atop the chair.

...where does he even start?

Several minutes pass in silence before he picks up the instrument, hovering over the page before...starting at the beginning.

Silence save for the scritching of his pen fills the room, the soft light accented by the moon through the window. At first, his pace is rather slow...methodical as he takes time to consider what to write, in what order, to what detail.

But, like a snowball released atop a hill, he starts to gain momentum. One page becomes two. Two become three. At his left they pile up, face down to keep them ordered. Time loses all meaning as the task consumes him, traveling forward through his story from its first days of tragedy until...now.

The sun just begins to peek over the horizon, the pale moonlight giving way to golden rays as he slows to a stop: the last few lines are his worries of his wife, their future, his issues affecting her as well as himself.

The pen idles...and then lays atop the desk.

Going back over the last several lines, Sasuke hardly even feels fatigued. In fact...he feels...lighter. As though some lingering exhaustion he could never sleep away has just...faded from view.

With a light flutter of paper, he sets the last one - how many pages did he even write? - atop the pile before straightening it carefully. A turn shows the morning just beginning. Well...so much for getting back to bed. The last few sips of tea remain in the bottom of his mug, forgotten in the rush of his writing.

Elbows come to rest atop the desk, hands holding his brow as mismatched eyes flicker across the wood grain.

“...Sasuke…?”

Knocking softly, Hinata gets no answer, peering in and finding him fast asleep in his chair, arms folded and cheek tucked atop them. Blinking, eyes move to the rather impressive pile of pages beside him.

For a moment, Hinata considers snooping...but quickly dismisses the thought. If he wants her to see them, he’ll share them when he wants. Until then, they’re none of her business.

Instead, she heaves a small sigh, sympathy on her face. She’ll have to tell the rest of the station he’s not feeling well today. Tiptoeing through, she fetches a spare throw blanket, gently draping it over his shoulders and kissing the crown of his head. His pen scribbles a quick note telling him she’ll handle work, and to stay home to rest.

With that, she retreats as quietly as she entered, the door closing with a soft click.

     Ohhh golly this is so late OTL Between being in the big city all evening, and then a terribly-timed stomach ache, I'm running SO far behind schedule! But, here it is: better late than never, right?      This one actually was very...streamlined to write. I kinda just got in a zone and whoosh, there I went! (well, minus the tummy ache break lol) I guess Sasuke wasn't the only one in the mood to write in the wee hours of the morning tonight! Hopefully we can both get some sleep now!      And on that note, I definitely DO need to call it a night - thanks, as always, for reading!

[dragonwitch77]

Death’s Flower Ch 3

As Zaman had promised, the wall surrounding the garden were made taller. They were built higher and higher till the garden could not be seen and Lyvia was satisfied with it.

Still fearing that the God of Death would still try something, Zaman had put up a magical barrier that would not allow anyone inside unless they were invited in by Zaman or Lyvia.

Feeling that there was no way the Death God could harm her child as long as she stayed inside the garden, Lyvia raised her child in the safety of the garden, raising her each day with a smile as her child grew. To her first words to her first tiny step, Lyvia was beyond happy as the emptiness inside her melted away as her daughter grew stronger and stronger each day.

A few years passed and the young girl grew to a healthy child under the loving care of her mother and grandfather. She was happy and energetic, with a bit of mischief side as all children did. Though she never once stepped outside the garden, she was content.

But, there was one slight problem…

“Come on! You can do it! Keep at it!” Zaman shouted, encouraging the young child. “You’re halfway there! Come on!”

The young goddess was trying her best, keeping her hands out and concentrating as best as she could. It was a simple task. She just had to make a flower sprout out from the dirt. But minutes were dragging on, and at best all she did was make a tiny sprout poke out from the dirt.

“Come on! Come on! You can do it child!” Zaman continued to encourage. “Just a little more! Come on! I know you’ll get it today!”

The young goddess’s face was starting to turn red as she tried to make the flower grow more, her little hands trembling. Finally the young goddess gave up, panting heavily and arms falling to her sides. “I… I can’t…” She said between heavy panting.

Zaman frowned. “… well… that’s fine. You tried your best sweetheart. I think you might have improved too! See?” He lowered the pot so that the young goddess could see. “This sprout is bigger than the last one! Maybe even bigger!”

“Really?” The child looked at the sprout with excitement, though it quickly dashed. “It looks the same grandpa…”

“No no! I’m sure this one is bigger! In fact, this might just be a sign that you’re getting stronger with your powers!”

“It doesn’t feel like I’m getting stronger…”

Zaman huffed, picking up the small girl and lifting her up in the air. “Don’t be so down sweetheart! I know you’ll unlock more of your powers soon. It just… needs more time. That’s all.”

The young goddess frowned, looking at her hands. “But… what if I don’t get my powers? Mama says that all gods and goddesses have powers. What if I don’t get mine?”

“You will! I’m sure of it!” Zaman hugged her close to his chest. “You just… need to wait for it to happen, my dear. I’m sure one day soon you will get your powers and you will be the most powerful and talented goddess out of all of them!”

“… Really?”

“I’m positive.”

The young goddess thought about it, mulling over what her grandfather had told her. “… even more powerful than you?”

“W-Well I wouldn’t go that far in power.” Zaman blushed, making the young goddess giggle. “But we’ll see when you get those powers of yours. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now then.” Zaman set the young goddess down on the ground. “Since we’ve got a long day ahead of us, what shall we do today?”

“Bunny and lion!” The young girl cheered, hopping up and down. “Bunny and lion!”

“Bunny and lion huh? Well then, who will be the bunny?”

“Me! Me! Catch me if you can!” With that, she took off, racing into the garden as Zaman chased after her laughing.

“Watch out little bunny! The big bad lion is coming for you!” Her grandfather teased as they ran in the garden, giggling and laughing as they raced through trees.

)*(

It is said that each god have a special room that shows their very personality.

For Caitlin, it was a roomful of cooking items with baskets and boxes filled with the finest ingredients. For Coriander, his whole home was filled with armors and weapons from the various wars he led and watched over. Grunde’s home was filled with mirrors and music, with sheets of paper filled with new melodies just waiting to be given to the mortals down below.

But Zaman’s room wasn’t such trivial things. Lyvia knew her father just wasn’t like that. No, his room was hidden from prying eyes, deep under the very home of the God of Time deep within the mountain. In the toughest rocks and earth, it was here where Zaman stored his most precious knowledge. Knowledge that was so great, so powerful, so mind blowing, that it was kept locked away from everyone in the world.

There was only one entrance, and that was blocked by a single wooden door with carvings of ancient times of the good old days of the gods and goddesses. Each carving mark a historic event that were so memorable, it changed the world. Lyvia never cared about the door’s design nor its history. Her only concern was what laid beyond the door. She was on an important quest. No that she didn’t want many others to know.

Her hands traced the rolled up parchment papers, taking out one that seemed promising enough. Carefully she read it, frowning deeply before sighing and rolling it back up and setting it in its proper place. Nothing. Ten scrolls in and she could not find what she was looking for.

“There has to be something here that could help.” She mumbled, taking out a scroll and looking it over. When it too didn’t have what she seeked, she placed it back with a scowl. This was getting her nowhere!

“Come on father! You must have something!” Lyvia growled under her breath. “You’re the most powerful and intelligent god, yet you have nothing to what I’m looking for.”

When her search continued to be fruitless, she let out a heavy sigh and slumped into the only chair in the room, rubbing her temples. Her father was smart, very smart, but even he seemed to have certain limits for knowledge.

“I still have to try. For her sake.” Lyvia whispered under her breath, brushing back some of her smooth golden hair from her face. “No god or goddess has ever been born so powerless as she has. There must be a way to fix it!” She glared at the floor. “It must be his doing. He must have done something to make my daughter so weak!”

She snarled but sighed and shook her head. She knew she could do nothing to the God of Death. Even if she knew he had done something to her daughter, she could not prove his guilt or risk having a full out war with him. The Sisters already had enough on their plate keeping the balance between him and every other god.

She turned her gaze upwards. She had been away from her daughter for too long now. She would try again tomorrow to search for her answer.

)*(

Deep underground where the dark realm laid, it was chaos.

Nobody knew this outside from the Underworld, but minions were bustling about doing their tasks they were assigned to. Some were cleaning, others were sorting scrolls and sorting away the few offerings made to their leader. Many were watching over the colorful pools, getting into black wooden boats with ladles, scooping some of the colorful water into large stone jugs.

The ruler of the Underworld was busy himself, working in one of the high towers he had set himself up in sitting at a desk with a quill and paper laid out before him, scribbling away with a deep look on his face. The desk was covered with glass vials sitting on top, filled with colorful water just like the pools outside.

Snatcher looked up from the current scroll he was writing in as a minion stepped in the room with a glowing jar. “And what’s this one filled with?” He asked, though judging by the red color the glow gave off, it wasn’t hard to tell what this jar was filled with.

“Killers. About fifty of them.” The minion set the jar on the desk on one side with other colored filled jars, taking an empty jar on the other side and left the room to go fill it with more souls. Snatcher sighed, reaching over the jar that the minion just delivered and held it up to his face.

Dozens of screaming faces stared back at him, all filled with fear as they swirled around in the red substance. Snatcher was just very unimpressed. He had seen plenty of faces of terror in his whole existence, and he found it rather dull and cliché. Grabbing an empty bowl and setting it before him, Snatcher pulled out the cork and dumped the souls into the bowl.

“Alright, let’s see. How about we start with… you.” Snatcher reached in and plucked out a soul that was more pinkish than red. He held it up but the end of its tendril as it squirmed around and about in his grip. “And what’s your life story?”

He grabbed the soul’s head, forcing it to look at him in the eyes. There was a pause as the death god and soul stared at one another. Nothing dared moved until the god sighed. “Alright, you’re good. I guess.” With a wave of his hand, the soul disappeared. “Now who’s next?” He reached in randomly, pulling out a deep crimson soul.

“You look promising.” Snatcher huffed as the soul glared at him. “Just how many did you kill to get this color?”

“BITE ME!” Snatcher blinked in surprise. And slowly smiled.

“Oh ho! We got a little talking soul here!” He poked the soul with his free hand. “Now isn’t that a rarity? I hardly get any souls that talk! So, why don’t you be a pal and tell me how many you killed so I can judge you.” Snatcher grinned, but it slowly fell when the soul laughed.

“Tell you how many I killed? HA! As if I would ever tell you anything! Only the gods know what I’ve done and they couldn’t stop me!”

“Then why are you dead?” Snatcher raised a brow, having a feeling that he was dealing with a difficult soul here.

“Dead? I’m not dead! This is all but a dream! I know this is just a dream! And when I wake up, all of this will be gone an—”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Let’s get back to your kill count alright? I’m busy today and I don’t have time for your squabble.”

The soul looked at him offended. “You. You DARE MOCK THE GREAT KILLER OF BLOOD?! THE ONE WHOSE NAME SENDS SHIVERS DOWN YOUR SPINE?!”

“If I had the energy to care, then you would be sadly disappointed. Now about that—”

“THIS IS UNHEARD OF!” The soul roared.

“Life isn’t fair. Now would you—”

“I DEMAND YOU SHOW RESPECT TO ME! I DEMAND YOU COWER BEFORE ME! THE MIGHTY—”

The sentence would never finish.

Snatcher sighed deeply, shoving the bowl aside and rubbing his temples as a headache began building up. “Pecking soul.” He muttered under his breath. “It’s always the arrogant mortal souls.”

His mood wasn’t helped as a minion carried in another jar. Letting out a frustrated growl, Snatcher slammed his head on the table.

“Boss? Is everything alright?” The minion asked, setting the jar down beside the table since there was no room to put it on top.

“No! Everything is NOT alright!” Snatcher slammed his fists on the table, making the jars rock so hard that some close to the edge fell off. The minion was quick enough to grab two, but wasn’t quick enough to grab the rest.

Glass shattered as soul filled jars hit the floor, painting the floor in bright colors against the dark stone floor. Mortal soul shot off with the intent to escape their judgment, but Snatcher hardly cared as he roughly got up from his seat and stomped over to the open window growling. His hands run through his hair, gripping the unkempt dark threads.

“I’m sick of these mortals! I’m sick of this job! I would kill myself if I could but I’m immortal!” He punched the wall, putting new cracks in the stone. “Mortals keep dying faster than I can keep up with! And they’re so stupid and arrogant and pompous and! And! URRGH!” He stomped his foot on the ground, making the ground shake with his power.

The minion wasn’t as lucky as the first time in catching the jars as more fell off the table and set lose the souls trapped inside.

“C-Calm down Boss! Please!”

“And what’s more!” Snatcher continued, grabbing his cloak. “Another year is about to go by with my cloak still incomplete! AND I STILL DON’T KNOW WHO TOOK IT!” The god roared, summoning darkness in his hands and shooting it out the window. An explosion echoed somewhere in his realm, but he hardly paid any mind to it. He knew nothing was there so no point to worry about anything later, but he was still hot under his collar. Growling, he looked out the window, fuming hotly with an angry glare on his face.

“B-Boss.” The minion put the jars they managed to save on the floor, carefully walking towards the Death God. “M-Maybe you’re over thinking this? You can’t be sure if any of the other gods took your—”

“CAN IT!” Snatcher snapped, making the small minion jump and cower with fear. “I know it’s a god! It has to be!” He looked back out the window. “No mortal could have stolen that piece and live this long. Even with help from a god. Only a god or goddess could have taken that piece. It has to be one of them!”

“B-But who would steal from you, Boss? No god is willing to come down here and take something from you.”

“The torn fabric says otherwise.” Snatcher leaned against the window, pondering with a scowl on his face. “But how they managed to do it is still a mystery to me. And to do it so well that didn’t even notice it happening…”

The minion dared to get closer to his ruler, sitting beside him while fiddling with the strings of his hood. “… What are you going to do when you find your missing cloak piece Boss?”

“Fix my cape of course. But.” Snatcher rubbed his chin. “I need to find out who took it first. And that itself is an impossible task. I can’t step out of my realm anytime I want, or other gods would think it’s another war on their hands. I can’t send any of you lot out there because you guys aren’t really that great in being sneaky. No offense.”

“None taken Boss!”

“And I don’t have a clue that could point me to the right god I’m looking for! I can’t go blindly attacking anyone or they might sic the Sisters on me!”

“They wouldn’t do that! You’re too important for them to send the Sisters on you!”

“And why would that be?” Snatcher glanced down at the minion.

“Because without you, the world would be too full with mortals! They would just keep living and living with no end or stop! And no one wants that!”

“Coriander would want that. He’s always screaming at me to let his battles go on forever.”

The minion perked up their head. “Then, maybe he took the piece of your cloak?”

But Snatcher shook his head. “No. There’s no way he could have done it. His armor isn’t fit for stealth and he would never take it off. He’s too proud of it to ever part with it even for a second. He wouldn’t dream of ever taking that helmet off. It’s too important of a compensation that he needs on a daily basis.”

The minion was quiet for a moment. “Well, how about anyone who has a grudge against you? Maybe that could help!”

“Oh sure, if you want to go through the whole list of gods who don’t hate my very existence!” Snatcher rubbed his face. “Every single god and goddess hates my guts to the core! There’s not a single god or goddess out there who wouldn’t try to plan something against me as pay back. Or even try to pick a fight with me.”

“Can’t go to the Sisters for help. Can’t confront the gods directly.” He sighed. “Can’t even leave this place for no more than a day each year to go looking for that piece of cloth.”

Lifting a hand to his face, he flexed his fingers as dark energy sparked around his hand. “Six years. Six, long, tiresome years have gone by. Yet I am no closer to reclaiming what is mine.” He looked out to his world. “Soon it will be exactly seven years since it was taken. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be lucky this year. Or maybe not.” He stood up, turning away from the window. “Maybe it’ll be another before I’ll find it. Or maybe two, or ten, or fifty.” He waved out his arm, and the jars magically reassembled themselves as if they were never broken.

“… Or maybe I’ll never find it.” He sighed, going over to the only two jars the minion had saved and placed them on his desk.

“You will find it!” The minion jumped up, running up beside their master. “I know you will! You’re Snatcher! The God of Death and Ruler of the Underworld! No one can best you at anything Boss!”

The minion couldn’t see it, but Snatcher’s mouth twitched into a grin for a moment before vanishing. The god sighed, rubbing his head. “Except steal from me from under my very nose.” He stood there for a moment before shaking his head. “Eh. That’s enough soul judging for now. Tell the rest of the minions to gather up all the escaped souls and sort them out for me for later.” He tucked his cloak around him, leaving through the door. “I’m going to take a nap.”

“Sure thing boss!” The minion saluted as the tall immortal being disappeared around the corner. Once the Death Lord of was gone, they started grabbing some of the empty jars.

“My my. Has nearly seven years really gone by?”

The minion was startled so badly that they dropped the jars, breaking a few. They turned around to see Moonjumper lounging on the windowsill like an outstretched cat. “M-Moonjumper?! What are you doing here?! If the boss finds out that—”

“Shh. Sh-sh-sh-shhh.” Moonjumper placed a finger against his lips. “Now there’s no need to fear. There’s no need to let your master know that I’m here.” He smiled, levitating off the window and hovered over to the shaking minion. “I just by for a small little visit. That’s not such a crime now is it?”

“N-No. I guess not.” The minion shrugged its shoulders, but kept a clear distance from the god. “W-What are you doing here though? You haven’t been in the Underground for a long while.

“I have been absent for a long time haven’t I? Some much time has gone by. Let’s just say I’ve been a bit… busy. Nothing serious or fishy.” The god looked at the table, picking up a jar with his powers and bringing it closer. “The same cannot be said about your boss. Tell me, is he even close to finding what he loss?”

“If you were listening in on our conversation, then you should already know the answer.”

Moonjumper nodded his head, twisting the small vial glowing white with color. “Indeed. It seems, that your dear boss hasn’t gotten a lead. No clues or trails to follow. Must be hard on his pride to swallow.” He let the vial drop.

The minion gasped and doved after it, catching it just before it hit the ground.

“Can’t confront the other gods or that might start a war. Won’t go to the Sister for help, that he swore.” Moonjumper tapped the tip of his chin, frowning deeply. “Now this is quite the troubling situation. Clearly something he has taken with too long of hesitation.”

“Can you blame him? He doesn’t want to start a war anytime soon. It took centuries to fix the mess of the Dark Days for up above and down below.” The minion got off the floor, setting the jar down safely next to the desk. “Already two hundred years have gone by, yet the Boss sometimes still edgy when he remembers those days.”

“Edgy? Snatcher? Cringing to think back on his youthful energy? Now what happened to the God of Death I used to know? One who had great power to show?”

“You already know what happened to him. You were there.” The minion shot the immortal being a glare. “You saw the whole thing happen and you didn’t even give a peck.”

“Language! There’s no need for such foul mouth. I came here with the intent to help your master with assuage. And the thanks I get is a conversation gone south?”

“You? Help the Boss? Yeah right!” The minion scoffed, picking up some empty jars. “The last time you helped, the whole Underground was nearly turned on its head! You better just leave the Boss be and leave it at that. He’s not interested in what you might have to say.” They started for the door.

“Are you even sure?”

The minions stopped at the door, looking over their shoulder at the blue god. “I’m sure of it!”

“Hmm, okay. You don’t seem too unsure. But just know that I came to help make the thieving criminal pay. If you say that your master doesn’t need my help, than it must be true… or is it?”

The minion blinked. “… What do you mean?”

Moonjumper hummed, putting one arm behind his back as he rubbed his chin with the other hand. “Well, if I had something taken from me for nearly seven years, I would certainly be unhappy and throw a might fit. And, as you know, Snatcher is quite infamous with his unequal rages, more than Coriander if you would gauge.”

The minion blinked again. Well, Moonjumper was right. Snatcher did have quite a tendency to throw a tantrum or two when he was really on edge. The minion shuddered as they remembered the last time the Boss got angry. They still hadn’t manage to fix that part of the Underground yet, even after all there long years.

“Yes, he has quite the scary reputation. Proven again and again through his demonstrations. With all those years gone by, who’s to say that his anger isn’t high? All that bottle up emotion can’t be too good, all that boiling rage energy building under his hood.” Moonjumper glanced at the wall, right where Snatcher had punched it.

The minion followed his gaze and cringed.

“Although, he seems to be managing it well so far. But, he might snap and break soon and leave anything with some nasty scars…”

The minion nodded their head slightly. Snatcher… wasn’t doing so well. Sure the Boss was good at hiding his emotions, but he snapped more and more as time went on and the missing piece of his cloak still hadn’t been found. And if it still wasn’t found for years to come, the minion wasn’t sure if the Boss could handle it.

“But if you’re so sure that he has no need of my good intentions, I shall take my leave and keep your master from growing tensions.” The God of Corpses floated towards the window.

“WAIT!”

Moonjumper stopped, gazing back at the small minion with a raised brow.

“Okay, m-maybe you’re right.” The minion fidgeted. “Boss… I don’t want admit it, but, he’s really getting more and more out of control with his emotions. The rest of the minions feel it too, a-and we think he might snap if the missing cloth piece isn’t found soon! Maybe.” They looked at the blue god. “Maybe… he could use your help? J-just a little! He still doesn’t like you that much!”

Moonjumper hummed, tilting his head one way. “… Alright, just a little help for your master. Just to make sure we avoid any future… disaster.” He smiled, clapping his hands together. “And I know just the thing! I’ll be back soon before the first flower bloom in spring!” With that, he flew out the window as was gone, leaving the minion to wonder if they had made the right choice in asking help from the one god who Snatcher hated the most in the whole world.

[mcrololo]

@skiretehfox​ not something for your AUs but our convo the other day inspired me to write this. Hope you like it ;w; It didn’t matter who you asked about professor Port’s classes, the answer would always be that it was incredibly boring and long. Yang knew that, Ruby knew that… The entirety of team RWBY knew that, even a certain Schnee who still made notes during his classes in case any of his boasting stories would be on the test. 

Yang didn’t really blame her. She definitely thought the man was capable of doing it. Regardless, the blonde didn’t even bother to pay attention during his daily rant about the good old days and instead opted to scribble on a blank piece of paper as she pretended to listen.  

She knew Ruby was looking over her shoulder to see what she was drawing, but Yang didn’t doodle with an idea in mind, so her sister would quickly lose interest. 

Yang also noticed Weiss throwing her a glare, but she pretended not to see it. Sometimes it felt like her teammate was more of a teacher than… Well, a teammate. At least Blake let her do her own thing and they were partners, something that went way beyond your regular teammate-relationship. 

If anyone should hold her in line, it was probably Blake. But the faunus didn’t, so Yang absentmindedly scribbled some more. 

Until Port finally piqued her interest.  

“Ah, before you go class, might I have one last word with you?” the man spoke up. 

Yang rolled her eyes. “You always have the last word…” she muttered. “It’s impossible to get one in with you.”  

Ruby snickered and Blake smirked, causing the blonde to smile. Weiss, however, threw her another glare.  

Everything Yang did somehow annoyed the girl one way or another. The brawler often wondered what her deal was. Weiss didn’t even know her that well, but there she was, judging every minor detail about Yang’s behavior in class. 

Maybe they just needed to hang out, Yang mused. She mulled it over, but couldn’t come up with a quick idea for their supposed friend-date.  

“As we are right now,” Port continued, pulling Yang out of her thoughts immediately. The bored expression soon made its way back onto her face again. “Miss Adel and Miss Scarlatina are unable to help organize and host Beacon’s upcoming dance event. With just a few weeks away that’s a major problem, so we are looking for replacements who are willing to take over any preparations that need to be done.”  

The blonde perked up. Planning the dance? Entirely? On her own?  

Well, with a partner, obviously.  

Yang really wanted to yell that she’d do it, but she needed a partner first, and she definitely didn’t want to end up with someone obnoxious or rude. 

Lilac eyes shifted to her team. Ruby was a no go. Her sister wasn’t a big fan of parties and silver orbs immediately looked the other way when their eyes met. Ruby knew what she wanted. 

Yang glanced over to Blake. The girl already had a book in hand and wasn’t paying any attention to what Port was saying. That’s what it looked like, at least. Blake probably didn’t have interest in parties either, so the blonde decided not to ask her partner. 

Her eyes finally landed on the heiress. Weiss seemed to be deeply in thought as well. Yang’s eyes started to glow as realization hit her. The dance preparations could be their thing! Their friend-date! 

“Yes, over here!” Yang yelled as she stood from her seat. The blonde threw up her arm to catch Port’s attention. It worked. 

“Oho, I love your enthusiasm, miss Xiao Long! Who wants to help her?” the man asked, looking over at his other students.  

“Weiss Schnee will!” Yang immediately cut in before anyone else could respond.  

Weiss’ icy blue eyes went wide with surprise. “Excuse me?” the girl snapped. “Do I get a say in this?”  

Port didn’t seem to hear her or ignored her for the sake of the dance. Either way, he didn’t let her finish her rant. “Wonderful! You two can come to the teacher’s lounge after class so we can discuss details,” Port said. “Class dismissed!”  

And with that, Port was out the door in mere seconds. The rest of the students got up to leave as well, but when team RWBY stood from their seats, Weiss grabbed a hold of Yang’s arm. 

“Yang Xiao Long, are you insane?!” the heiress yelled at the blonde. “What makes you think you can decide things for me?!”  

Ruby looked at her two teammates in worry. Yang waved at the other half of her team to let them know she could handle this, so Blake left with Ruby in tow.

“I thought it would be nice for us to have some quality time,” Yang replied with a half-smile. “Our dynamic is also important for the team. Plus, I don’t really know much about you!”  

Weiss’ eyes hardened. “Exactly! Which is why you should have asked me first!”

Damn, the heiress was really pissed. Yang rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. Maybe that would’ve been a better idea.  

“Look, sorry about that,” the blonde apologized. “I just… I don’t know, sometimes I do things without thinking it through, but it was with good intentions. I promise.”  

Weiss gave Yang a once-over, held her chin up and walked past her teammate. “You’re lucky I like to plan things, including social events,” she scoffed. 

Yang watched her go through the door and sighed. Grabbing her stuff she went after the heiress, wondering if she made a big mistake. “It’s gonna be a long few weeks.”   

“Alright, so we’ve got most of the decorations done,” Weiss said, crossing something off as she looked intently to the piece of paper in hand. “All that’s left is how we’re going to dress up the tables.”  

Yang growled and slouched in her seat, practically throwing her upper body at the table she was sitting at.   

“What?” Weiss snapped, her blue eyes now trained on the blonde. “Should I remind you that you wanted to do this together?” The heiress stared at her teammate. “Again?” 

“No!” Yang immediately replied. “Even if I had short term memory loss I would still be able to remember that thanks to you!”  

Weiss huffed and placed her clipboard on the table Yang was sitting at. “What exactly is your problem? You’ve been moaning and groaning the entire time we’ve been planning this thing.”  

The blonde rolled her eyes, but she sat up and eventually looked at the heiress. “My problem is that I still haven’t gotten to know you. You still look like a prissy, stuck up princess to me.”  

“Excuse m–” 

“But I know you’re not! Show me that side of you!”  

Weiss fell silent, pressing her lips together into a thin line. She stared back at Yang as she felt those lilac eyes burning on her, but couldn’t think of anything to say back to the brawler.  

Yang didn’t know what to make of it. Remaining silent wasn’t going to help, however. 

“What do you think of me?” she asked, her voice somewhat silent. The blonde liked to think she didn’t care what others thought of her, but if she had to be honest, she actually did. At least when it came to her team and other people close to her. “You probably think I’m just a busty blonde who likes to punch stuff and make out with boys.”  

Weiss just kept staring at her. Yang lost some of her patience. “Well?” she pushed.  

That finally got the heiress to talk. “I…” she started. She looked guilty. “Some of that might be true, yes.”  

The blonde sighed. “I’m more than that,” she replied. “And you’re more than what I described you as. I wanted this,” Yang gestured to all the paperwork and prototypes of decorations lying around. “To be something for us to see that. I want to get to know you as good as I know Blake, and I want you to get to know me as good as you know Ruby.”  

For the past semester both of them had only paid attention to their partners. Granted, Yang had also managed to cram in some Ruby-time, but they were sisters. That was normal. 

But her and Weiss? They had gone off on the wrong foot and never made up, even though Yang wanted to. If they were going to be a team, they had to start acting as one.  

Weiss took a seat opposite of Yang and carefully slid some of the paperwork aside. “Alright,” she said. “Fine. I’ll play along.”  

Yang blinked. What?  

“For the team,” Weiss warned. “You’re right. We should learn about each other too. But I get to start with the questions.”  

Yang’s frown got replaced by a big grin. “Hit me.”  

Yang looked around the filled room with glee. It seemed like the dance was a success, and she knew who she had to thank for. Granted, she had done a lot of work too, but Yang realized this wasn’t all thanks to her.  

Her lilac eyes eventually found her partner on the dance floor, having the time of her life with most of their friends now. The evening would soon come to an end and Yang hadn’t danced much herself, but seeing others having fun was good enough for her. 

She saw Sun and Neptune acting like the dorks they were and noticed team JNPR had joined in on the fray.  

Ruby wasn’t present. Yang had looked for her a few minutes ago, but quickly learned that her sister had already left. It didn’t surprise her, but it did disappoint her a little. Hopefully Ruby was okay and not feeling lonely. The blonde made a mental note to check up on her sister when she got back to their dorm. 

To her surprise she couldn’t see Weiss with their friends either. As a host of the party the heiress wasn’t allowed to leave, so Yang knew Weiss was still present.  

Why wasn’t she with Neptune? The blonde had seen the two together. It was obvious Weiss liked him and an hour ago the two were talking with each other…  

Worried that something happened, Yang left her spot to go look for her co-host. She eventually found Weiss on the balcony outside, gazing up at the stars as she seemed to be deep in thought. 

“I know your nickname is ice queen, but isn’t it a bit too cold to stand outside?” the blonde said. She approached Weiss with a small smile on her lips, but it disappeared when she saw the look in Weiss’ eyes. 

Her teammate could try to hide it as much as she wanted. Yang knew that look. She donned it herself countless times.  

“I suppose,” came Weiss’ dry reply. Yang frowned. “Things didn’t go well with Nep?” she asked the heiress. Weiss huffed. “That buffoon flirted with half of the girls present. He’s not as decent as I thought he was.”  

Yang laughed. “You always attract the lady killers, huh?”  

Weiss gave her a look she couldn’t quite place. It was something between mock anger and pain, though the latter was much more subtle. That didn’t sit right with her. 

The blonde placed her hand on Weiss’ shoulder and offered the girl a reassuring smile. “You know,” she started. “We haven’t danced yet, and as hosts I think we should at least once.” 

Something flickered in Weiss’ eyes. Yang didn’t know what happened, but when she expected a halfhearted no, the heiress took her hand and nodded to the door they came through. “Lead the way,” she added. 

Yang blinked a few times, dumbfounded. She quickly recovered and tugged Weiss along with her to go back inside. The music changed from an upbeat tune to a slower one and Yang physically tensed. 

“Alright lovebirds, it’s time for the final song of the night!” one of the dj’s announced. “So grab your date and get real close for the last slow dance!” added the other.  

The blonde looked back at Weiss, but the heiress didn’t let go of her hand. That meant she was okay with it, right?  

Carefully pulling the girl closer to her, Yang placed her other hand on the heiress hip. Weiss proceeded to put her hands on the brawlers shoulders as she let herself step closer. 

For some reason, the blonde could feel her heartbeat quicken. This wasn’t how she imagined their dance together, but she couldn’t bring herself to picture it any different now.  

They slowly swayed from side to side together, making their way further and further onto the dance floor as they did. 

“You know,” Weiss mumbled, closing the distance between them so she could lay her head on Yang’s shoulder. The brawler fought down a blush. “Doilies and fog machines aren’t such a bad combination after all.”