#on the minus side i'm wondering if drawing with my finger takes up the same amount of time anyways.........

[reineydraws]

i have this fic series i'm still working on where mihawk sort of becomes rayleigh's kid and spends ages 11-17ish on the oro jackson.

shanks and buggy imprint on him (bugs considers him a sort of older brother figure/sparring inspiration and shanks has a crush that eventually turns into full-blown love) and this is how i imagine they're like on the day mihawk sets off on his own haha.

[myreygn]

n over k equals you going down!

summary: Kuroo and Yaku are studying math and, to put it nicely, it doesn't work all too well. Luckily there are ways and methods to clear your head and Kuroo has just the right idea - whether or not it works out for him is a different story.

an: i'm sorry @heyoitsgenderconfusion your ask disappeared. idk where it went so i just have to tag you and really hope you see this!

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

“Okay, let's try this again.” Kuroo rubs his temples and sighs, then he points at the book right in front of him. “We have these numbers, four and thirteen, and we have this formula. Now we put the numbers in and then we have...?”

“Gosh, Kuroo, I don't know! Repeating the question doesn't change anything!”

“Just look at the example, there's an example right there-”

Yaku groans and bangs his head on the book, effectively crushing Kuroo's hand with his forehead and making him whine in pain. “I. Don't. Know. And I'll never know if you keep going like this!”

“It's not that hard!” Kuroo pushes him away and shakes his maltreated hand while furiously nodding at the exercise. “It's n over k, so it's thirteen over four and that means thirteen faculty divided by four faculty multiplied by thirteen minus four faculty! You just have to put the numbers in the formula!”

“But how am I supposed to know which number belongs to which letter?”

“I told you a million times!”

“Fine,” Yaku cries out, “fine, shut up, we've been doing this for, what, three hours?! I'm taking a break, I'm getting water!” He gets up and stretches out, nudging Kuroo's side with his foot. “Breathe through and hydrate yourself, you're so tense dude!” Kuroo flinches away almost hard enough to faceplant, making Yaku chuckle. “Come on now.”

He hears Kuroo shuffle around behind him as he gets himself something to drink, turning around when his friend enters the kitchen, and sighs. “Thank God, I needed this.”

“You needed this?!” Kuroo splashes water into his own face before he empties his half finished cup of coffee, regardless of the fact that it must be cold by now. “I've been explaining the same problem for thirty minutes and you still don't get it!”

“Well, maybe you're just bad at explaining.”

“Or maybe you're just bad at math!”

“Oh, that's not a good combination.”

“Then maybe you should get someone else to tutor you!”

Yaku smirks. Bantering means that Kuroo is recharging his battery, that's good – seeing him fired up  helps himself to regain control as well. He turns around again to put his glass in the sink. “Probably. I'm sure Kai would also actually tutor and not torture me like you do!”

“Oh, you want torture?” Yaku busts into surprised giggles when he feels long, swift fingers scribbling up and down his sides and he leans away from the maddening sensation, over the counter. Unfortunately this attempt to escape just makes everything worse for now he can't even properly protect himself – not that that was an option before. “I'll give you torture!”

“H-hey! Dohon't doho thahahat! Kuroo!”

“I mean, you started it.”

“Whahat? Did not!”

“Yes, you did!” Kuroo shoves his hands further up Yaku's torso to massage the spaces in between his ribs, drawing some of the ugliest cackles the Libero has ever heard from himself. “You attacked me earlier when you nudged my side, you did that on purpose!”

“I-it's not my fahault thahahat you're a wahalking tickle spoAAHT, STOP IT!”

“Why?” Yaku manifests all of his willpower to turn around and immediately regrets it when he's met with Kuroo's obnoxious signature smirk, those awful fingers relentlessly squeezing and jabbing his hips. “Aren't you having fun?”

“FAHAHACK YOUAHAHA!”

“Tsk, language.”

Yaku feels himself getting weaker and weaker the longer the tickling lasts – no wonder, this bastard is attacking his worst spot exactly the way he knows it drives Yaku up the wall. A little voice in his head regrets to ever have agreed to this study session, another one criticizes the very idea of being friends with Kuroo and Yaku hates how he hesitantly agrees. They just know each other too well and... hey, wait, that might be it!

“NAHAHAHA KUHUROHOO! PLEAHEHEHESE!”

The captain slows his touches down and moves his hands up a little. “Please what, Yakkun?”

God, he's going to kill this jerk! Yaku feels his face burn. Please, that's a word he almost never has to resort to and only uses when it's really bad. More often than not he's too proud – but that also means, that Kuroo knows it's bad when he actually pleads and that's a huge opportunity to fool him. The tickling on his sides is bearable. He can function now. Yaku throws him a wicked smirk through his giggling and it turns victorious when he sees the horror dawn on his friend's face.

“Please don't be less ticklish than last week.”

“WhAHAHAHAAA YAHAKU!”

“You know, Tetsurou,” the Libero smirks and wrestles Kuroo down, straddling him and wriggling his fingers in his armpits, “you're really funny. We've known each other for, what, two and a half years? You should really know by now that you don't stand a chance. I don't know if you noticed, but my worst spot isn't half as bad as yours. See?” He coos at his friend. “You're already crying, naw, Tetsu! It's not even been ten seconds!”

It's almost funny how Kuroo is a mess already, yet the teasing still seems to make everything so much worse. Yaku grins. He can't deny it, he's always having a blast wrecking Kuroo, especially when- ah, there it is.

“NYAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAP!”

“I don't know, should I? We barely get to hear this beautiful, beautiful hyena laugh from you, we should enjoy it while it lasts!”

Honestly, it's impressive how long Kuroo takes it. They're almost at four minutes before his laughter goes silent and Yaku decides to move away from his underarms, resorting to softly scribbling all over his stomach. “So, will you teach me this math problem?”

“I- Ihi trihied!”

“Yeah, well, as you said, I'm bad at math. Will you try some more?”

Kuroo can only nod, his face flushed bright red and his cheeks wet from laughing tears.

“Good.” Yaku finally stops his tickling and stands up, offering his friend a hand to get up. “Let's get back to work. And remember, when you think about starting a tickle fight the next time, don't. You'll lose. Got it?”

“Shut up...”

“You shut up.”

[gh0styyt0astyy]

hm.. now i'm thinkin, right.. with your other two fics of deimos being an absolute little shit, what if either hank, sanford, or both got back at him for it... sanford getting involved would be a pretty big betrayal after helping him out with hank... (ps despite the fact that i did make it before i saw it i'm 99% sure i posted my drawing of dei and san ganging up on hank a couple hours after you posted the fic of them and i'm now unofficially half jokingly declaring it as fanart of that fic because good scenario PFDNKNDGKDJSF)

✨ [Karma’s a bitch] ✨

( HEY I HOPE U DONT MIND I MATCHED THIS UP W/ ANOTHER REQUEST THEY JUST WORKED TOO PERFECTLY TOGETHER )

———————————

⭐️ [Summary] — In which Deimos comes to understand the meaning of “your actions have consequences.” (Lee!Deimos and Ler!Sanford + Ler! Hank)

guess the dude cant take what he dishes out…

key:

deimos

hank

sanford

⭐️ [Warnings] — TICKLE FIC; MILD LANGUAGE; also hank accidentally gets kicked in the face; if you don’t like then please just scroll on T_T

⭐️ [Prompts:] no. 8 + 10 / hank and sanford get their revenge

✨ Enjoy ! ✨

—————————

If there was one thing that Deimos was good at; it was being an absolute little shit. (Minus his hacking, fighting and semi decent medical skills.) A cocky little shit who was way too good at all of this.

“All of this” being; tasering Hank in the ribs, suddenly grabbing Sanford’s sides and running away, sometimes getting both Hank and Sanford in one good day.

Hank was done with Deimos’ shit, and Sanford just wanted revenge. So that’s what would happen. Sanford was gonna get his revenge, and he knew Hank would want in on that too. (I mean, c’mon. Hank is ALL ABOUT revenge.)

“Hank,” Sanford walked up to the man, poking him in the back. Hank’s shoulders jumped as he turned around quickly, shoulders falling back down but remaining tense. “I want your help.”

Hank stood there quietly, staring at Sanford. It was always so hard to understand what Hank was thinking behind those goggles.

“What is it.” Hank said, tilting his head slightly; Sanford grinned widely before he looked around the place. He grabbed Hank’s wrist (electing to ignore the jolt in Hank’s body) and dragged him to a different room.

“I want revenge.”

Hank perked up.

“I wanna get back at Deimos. You in?”

Hank thought, silently staring at Sanford. (At least, Sanford would assume he was being stared at.) “…So…?”

“What’s your plan?”

Sanford pumped his fist in the air as he leaned up towards Hank.

“Deimos!” Sanford called from another room, causing the other to lift his head from the little tablet he held. “Yeah?” Deimos called back. “C’mere for a sec, will you?” Deimos furrowed his brow. “Uh, sure.” He set down the tablet and headed off towards Sanford’s voice.

“San?” Deimos called out, entering the room he had heard Sanford in. “Over here, Dei.”

It was their storage room. Where the three would usually drop their weapons and stuff for the day before they conked out. “Hey San. What’s up?” Sanford motioned Deimos over. “Come here, I need you to look at something.” Deimos walked over, crouching down next to Sanford. “I thought I saw something glowing in there.” Sanford said, pointing into the closet. Deimos raised an eyebrow before peeking in. Something glowing? “What color?”

“Not sure. Didn’t get a good look at it.”

“Hm.” Deimos hummed. And then he saw it— a dull red glow that shone in Deimos’ face. “What the hell?” The glow got brighter and brighter before—

“AGK! SHIT!”

Hank leapt out of the dark closet and tackled Deimos to the ground, wrestling with him for a moment before Hank overpowered him and kept him to the floor. “GOOD GOD! Holy shit, Hank! What the hell!?” Deimos struggled under Hank’s hold.

“That was easier than it should’ve been.” Was all that Hank said, looking up at Sanford. “Excuse me?” Deimos said, a small tone of offense in his voice as Sanford walked up to stand beside the two. He crouched down with a small smirk on his face, Deimos looked between Hank and Sanford. “What are you two planning?” He asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

“Deimos. You ever heard the saying, what was it… “Karma’s a bitch?” Hank asked.

“…Yeesss…?” Deimos answered, suspicion rising.

“How about the saying “your actions have consequences.”

“Yes Hank, I’ve heard these sayings before. Why are you—“

Suddenly it hit Deimos, the way Sanford sat at his head and took his wrists from Hank’s hands. The way Hank kept him on the floor. “Oh. Oh shit.” Deimos muttered.

“Yeaah. I’m sure you see where this is going.” Sanford said, holding both of Deimos’ wrists with one hand.

Deimos, honestly, was extremely nervous. But he huffed, refusing to show through his facade.

“I wonder how long you can go without laughing.” Hank mused, tilting his head again (in a way that looks threatening, but no harm was showing.)

“I can last longer than you did, Wimbleton.” Deimos said with a huff, flinching inwards on himself at a sudden jab at the spot where his shoulder met with his ribs. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s ticklish.” Sanford shot at him, tightening on Deimos wrists as he tugged. “Oh no, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“First of all, I am not ticklish. Second of all, you guys are just wasting your time.” Deimos said, brows furrowing. Hank just stared before looking at Sanford. (In all honesty, Hank had no clue what to do. He’d just follow Sanford’s lead.)

“You aren’t, huh?” Sanford said, poking at Deimos again. Sanford didn’t miss the way Deimos flinched inwards again and (seemingly) bit the inside of his cheek. “Nope. Unlike you two.” Deimos grinned. “Alright then, you cocky bastard.” Hank butted in, latching onto Deimos’ legs. “You obviously wouldn’t mind us doing this, then. Would you?”

Deimos blinked, before seemingly understanding the situation he was in. “Look okay— usually I’d let you two have at it but I- um— okay okAY LISTEN-“ Deimos’ voice raised an octave, nerves jumping in his throat.

This was gonna suck.

“…would an apology make you let me go?” Deimos tried, watching as Sanford and Hank passed each other glances. “No.” Hank said, Sanford just grinned.

“Okay, I’m done waiting. Hank? Y’ready?” Deimos sucked in a breath, nervously. Hank was the master of making people antsy with how long he took to answer. The goggled man nodded.

Deimos tried to prepare himself, but he let out an awkward squawk as Sanford tased and circled on Deimos’ ribs. “AHAHGK—!” He yelped, clamping his mouth shut. Hank kneaded and clawed Deimos’ hips and lower sides. Deimos looked determined to keep any laughter inside. He shook his head. “Noh- nope— I’m naha— I’m not ticklish!” “Bullshit!” Sanford said, tickling the other side of Deimos’ ribs; it earned him a small snort.

Hank didn’t relent from his spots, either. He kept one hand on Deimos’ hips and the other started tweaking the skin of his legs.

“bweAHA- SHIHIT!” Deimos yelped again, trying to move away from Hank’s hand. “Oh? What was thaaaaat, Dei-Dei?” Sanford drew out, earning a frustrated and embarrassed whine from Deimos. “Huh… that’s funny,” Hank said, looking at Sanford, then Deimos. “I thought you said you could last longer than me? You didn’t… lie, did you?”

“I think he lied about a lot of things.”

“I dihihihid nohohaHAHT!” Deimos suddenly squeaked, arching his back before flopping back down. Sanford was vibrating his fingers into his stomach. “waHAHAIT WAHIHIHIT! SHIHIHIT!” Deimos tugged his arms again, trying to release himself from Sanford’s grip. “Lehehet gohoho!” Deimos whined.

“That’s funny, I thought I had said the same thing!” Sanford hummed in thought. “But alas, you didn’t listen…”

“I—Ihihihi’m sahahohorry!” “Hm.” Hank hummed. “You know, laughter in an apology doesn’t make it sincere. I don’t think you are.”

“Cohohohome ohohohon! I dihihihdn’t meEAHAHN IHIHIT—!” Deimos kicked his legs, trying to get Hank’s hands off as he tried to move away from Sanford’s. “Remember when you did this to me?” Hank asked, clawing at Deimos’ hips and sometimes shooting up to his ribs.

Deimos pulled his elbows to his face as best he could, hiding the creeping blush. He squealed when Sanford pinched his stomach. “SAHAHAHANFOHOHORD YOU TRAHAHAHAHITOR!” Deimos belted out loud laughter as Sanford only grinned.

Slowly, the tickling sensations stopped on Deimos’ body, the man in question letting out shaky laughs and breathing. Deimos sucked in a sharp breath as he felt his shirt ride up. “Wait wahAHAHIT WAHAHAIT! Lehehet’s tahahalk about thihihihis!”

Sanford thought, and so did Hank. The two looked at each other before shaking their heads. “Nah.” Was all Sanford said before blowing a raspberry on Deimos’ stomach.

“OHOHOHOHOH SHIHIHIT- OH MY GOHOHOHOD!” Deimos let out, his body going limp while his legs frantically kicked.

It was all fun and games until—

*CRRRRK!*

Sanford and Deimos stopped immediately, after realizing that Hank had accidentally been booted in the face. His goggles having broken and fallen off. If Hank was in pain he sure didn’t show it.

“OHOHO SHIT! Hahahnk! Hahank I’m sorry!” Deimos gasped, sitting up after Sanford had let him go.

Hank laid there on his back for a minute before sitting up and touching his face, already warm with a bruise forming.

“Well. Shit.” Was all Hank said.

“Are you okay?” Deimos asked, Sanford sitting in between them. Hank nodded. It wasn’t the worst he had been through before.

“…Okay, well- I think we all got our revenge?” Sanford said.

With Hank’s new lack of goggles, it was a little easier to see he was, indeed, looking at the other two and thinking. He looked at Sanford with dull eyes and looked like he wanted to say something before standing up. “Sure.” He said, offering a hand to the other two men.

They both stood up, Deimos still giggling slightly. Sanford hit his shoulder lightly. “You liar…” He grinned as Hank picked up his goggles in the background.

[chromium7sky]

The Devil wears Armani | chapter 12

A/n: I'm really sorry for the long hiatus of this au 😭. Finally got some spark about this update and I hope you guys enjoy it. Btw, guess who finally meet Raven? 😆😆

Raven finally reached her home after outing and small reunion with Karen. She remove her heels awkwardly as she yawned. It was a long night.

She tell Karen everything about what happen between her and Damian and of course minus the intimacy in his office.

-flash back-

Karen land her chin on her palm propped on the table as she listen to Raven's story. "You know, this is an interesting story though but did he knew about Melchior?"

Raven narrowed her eyes. " Why would I mention that jerk? Besides me and Damian still haven't declare about our relationship, I mean, he does flirt me back. Not to mention we did kiss..." Raven stop at the kissing part.

"Men can be complicated sometimes." She sighed as she take a bite from the cake she ordered.

"Couldn't agree more since I'm about to marry one." Karen wiggle her fingers that had betrothed ring on it.

Both designer and ex model giggled.

"I...I just hope Damian is serious about it. I'm quite invested my feeling for him." Raven chewed her lips.

"I hope so, Rachel. I hope he does." Karen smiled.

- end flashback-

Raven sighed on her bed after she change her clothes into night gown. "Gotta get some sleep because I'm going to meet him tomorrow. Should I ask again about us?"

Raven's mind wander about the golden question, her eyes start to droop as the cold night beckons her to the land of morpheus.

--------

Damian watched the E! Entertainment as he tidy up his studio to catch up any news on fashion industry then the anchorman, Josh Dirkmann said about a known designer from Europe came to town known as Melchior Draco.

"Melchior?" Damian arched his brows. Another designer in town? Maybe there's an event? And as soon as the reporter had some short interview with the silver hair gentlemen with black suit.

"So what makes you come to Gotham?" The reporter pointed the mic towards the designer.

"Well, a big company invited me to launched both of our collaboration and they said Gotham fit the aesthetic." He answered as he tug his silver hair behind his ears which earn a sneer from Damian as he watch the interview.

"Do you know Raven the designer?"

" Oh, yes. We did compete each other in Paris Fashion Show. She won first while I won second. It was a tough decision for the judges. Just so you know, between you and me, we kinda close during that time." Melchior slip out some interesting info towards the reporter.

The reporter almost gasped and demand for more answer but Melchior quickly waved away and walked towards the hotel lobby.

Damian quickly grab the remote control and closed the show.

" What do you mean close each other?" Both of his eyebrows knitted together. He closed his eyes and throw the remote at the couch. "It doesn't matter."

-------

Raven now in mess. The phone call came in nonstop just because of a statement when Melchior mention that both of them were close and the paparazzi possible sniffing out a scandal.

She sighed and landed her head on her desk. A hard knocking landed on her door makes her jolted. " Come in." As she turn her head towards the door.

Mona came in a hurry with an apologetic face. " Miss Rachel, I forgot to inform you that there will be a journalist came for your gala interview today. I'm really really sorry." Mona bow her head.

Raven stare blankly at Mona while her internal having conflict. 'First it's was Melchior statement and now interview? What...what should I do?'

Her palm start to sweat but quickly she fist up her hand. " When will be the journalist comes?"

The assistant girl check through her tablet. " In two hours."

"Who from where?"

"Jonathan Kent from Daily Planet, ma'am."

"Oh?" The same journalist who interview her winning success in fashion show. " Well, make sure escort him to my office and prepare our boarding room. Easier to execute it in there." Raven gives a stern order.

Mona nodded her head vigorously then quickly exit her room.

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

She straighten her back as she heard a knock. She breath in. "Come in."

"Ms. Rachel!"

"Mona."

"A journalist came to meet you for Wayne's Gala interview." She gesture her hands towards a young man with curly hair and those prominent square glasses. "Mr. Jonathan Kent."

"Ah, Jonathan. Hi! It's been a while." Raven stretch her hand towards him.

Jon adjust his specs then handshake with her. "Thank you for letting me interview again , Ms. Roth." His face display his friendliness towards her.

Mona bowed her heads and quickly went out of her office. "How about we bring this interview to boarding room? More comfy?" Raven suggest about changing place.

"Yeah, you're right." Jon nodded.

Raven stood up and escort Jon to the meeting room for more proper place to interview.

She open the light switch and pull out a chair. " You can sit here."

"Ah, right, thank you." Jon smiled sheepishly as he pull the leather chair and sit, opposite with the owner of AMZ company.

" So, how long does this interview lasting?" Raven asked him as soon as she's in her seat and lean on the table with both of her hands propped on her chin.

"Well, not long, more or less 10 minutes." The journalist smile sheepishly. "Anyway..." He pull out his notebook, voice recording and a pen."Let us start with, how long you know Damian Wayne?"

"Well...since I was freshly involved in this industry, Mr Wayne offered me to promote myself at Gala." Raven calmly answer as she tried to cover Damian from being involve with fashion drawing class back in those days.

Jon then stopped the voice recording which made her jolted then adjust his specs. "You are the one who have the same class with him right?"

Raven almost gasped but she quickly act nonchalant as she tried to deny it . "Are you try to dig something from me, Mr Kent?"

"Ah, yes. Such as wanted to know more about Dami's secret girl." He smiled.

Dami? Her eyebrow arched as she heard the name. Why in the world he would address Damian that way? "You must be mistaking. We were only in term of business."

"Seriously? I thought you guys were serious." He's moping. "He did ask me about how to flirt a girl too. Man, he's really an emotional constipated." He laughed. "Besides, Dami said he haven't meet her in 3 years after he's graduated."

Raven with her eyes wide as she heard it from him. "HOW DID YOU KNOW ALL THAT?!" She quickly rised from the desk.

Jon jolted as he seen her reaction. " Ah, I guess that's why he keep a secret about his girl." Sweat drop start to rolled down on his forehead. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. Let me introduce myself again."

Jon straighten his back and stretch his hand. "Hi, I'm Jonathan Kent. Dami' s childhood friend and school mate, same goes with roommate at uni and currently, a journalist." He smiled.

Raven tried to process all the information at once and it takes a few moment. "So, you are Damian's close friend?" She point out with as she narrowed her eyes.

"That's right!" Jon's smile getting wider.

"Ah, hello." She slowly put her hands on him which Jon grab it and makes a several shake as he excited to met her.

"It's really pleasure to meet you by the way! For sure if Maya and Colin knew about you they will be screaming or teasing him saying Dami has finally grown up!" He laughed.

Raven sit on her chair with unsure feeling. First the confession, then his childhood friend meet her, and then what? A wedding? She press her lips into a thin line.

"You know, Dami is not that kind of guy when it comes to women. He always thought they were hyenas." Jon chuckled.

"Hyenas?" Raven puzzled. "What's with hyenas?"

"Ever since he lives in Gotham, he always seen his father been in and out with other women who prey for money. Still, poor him having lack of parent's love." Jon sighed.

That explain why he's being hard on anyone. Raven attentively listen to Jon's story. "You know, he has pets like a zoo at his house. From cow to snakes. I remember when I came, This Alfred the cat always sulking and threaten to scratch me."

"An animal lover? That much?" Both of Raven's eyebrow jumpy as she heard it. She could imagine if Damian standing on the field, as birds will land on him, it either makes him look like Disney princess or a scarecrow.

"Most of them are animal rescue." Jon nodded.

"I see..." Then Raven suddenly remember something. "How did Damian took fashion drawing class by the way?"

"Actually we suggested to him. I mean seriously, you haven't seen his potrait and figure drawing, Those are amazing! He most likely to observe the surrounding and draw on his sketch book while on his free time."

Wait. Does that means Damian has a secret sketch book like her? Raven unconsciously put her hands on her lips.

"Still, what makes you suspect it was me? I mean we haven't contact it for a while."

"Other than he told me that he haven't met her in three years, I've seen a drawing that looks just like you at his studio." Jon smiled.

There it is.

Raven sighed and there's a slightly red tint on her ears.

"Why you haven't contact him when he's in middle east?" Jon asked curious question.

"It was because when I know that he's Damian Wayne, I..I was screwed. I mean, Wayne as in Wayne Enterprise. The biggest contributor on east side. Me? I'm just, just an orphan girl who try to rise my own feet."

"Oh?"

"My mother died when I was 14. I still don't know who were my father is and all I got is this necklace from my mother." She showed the necklace to Jon.

The young journalist seems to be fasinating with it's design. "I wonder where did your mother got this?"

Raven sighed as she try to remember. " I'm not sure. All I remember that it's been in heritage for years."

"I see." Jon rubbed his chin. "Well, Maybe you should hang up with us sometimes. I'm sure Colin and Maya would love to see you." He smiled.

"The thing is, Jon. I'm still unclear about between us." Raven chewed her lips.

"Ah nonsense, he really likes you. I can see from the way he look at you."

"Is it? Wait, where did you saw him see me?"

"I think it was two day before?"

Raven slap both of her cheeks. OH MY GOD, HE SAW BOTH OF US KISSING.

"And don't worry. I won't tell a soul, though, I've been warn by him and probably will be dig out by Colin and Maya." Jon widen his smile as sweat start to rolled down on his cheek."Dami has been my friend of more than a decade. I understand the way he express himself."

Raven nodded slowly. " Jon, a question."

"Yeah?"

"Since you are a journalist, do you know anything about Melchior?" Raven voice change to serious tone.

"That Silver Blond guy?"

"Yeah."

" I heard he's having collaboration with a big company. However, another speculation I heard that he choose Gotham because of its mysterious aesthetic."

"Well, uh, there's something I heard during interview. He claimed that we were close during the fashion show competition."

Raven as stared at the desk.

"Been wondering myself too. Are you close to him?" Jon's curious eyes start to lit.

"We do only for a while but the thing is he stole my design during that time which I never forgive myself for letting me get fooled by him." Raven sighed then she looked at Jon. "Wait. Don't tell me you're going to put this on paper?"

"Wait, I get it." Jon again propped his hand on his chin. "No wonder I've seen familiarity design between both of you. Plus you're having a hard time too."

"Uh, Jon?"

"I think I found something to investigate." Jon's mischievous smiles start to paint on his face.

"Now you act like Damian."

"Damian is more hardcore. I'm still on the average level." Jon beamed his happy face on her.

"Well, I think our interview stopped here. Besides, I need to cover some story from Me Wayne itself about the gala."

"Dami?"

"Yep."

"So, nice to meet you, Ms. Rachel Roth. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

"It's been a pleasure to spill tea with you." Raven smug.

Jon blinked then put on his mischievous smile.

-------

Somewhere in his office, Damian sneezed for no reason. " Is it me or is this office are getting colder?" He looked at the air ventilation.

[cullywullycurlywurly]

I saw you did an ask for someone else, so I hope this isn't rude but... I really like your dad!Cullen/Cullen-family stuff you write. I'm an adoribull fan and wondered if you would do a fic or drabble with them babysitting the babies? Only if you want to!

(Thanks for this, Nonny! Love a little Adoribull on my dash!)

“Maaaayhem!”

The echoed shouts seemed to bounce from the walls, and Dorian stood at the door to the bathing room, an unimpressed curl of his lip emerging at the sight that greeted him. “Yes, because turning the flooring into one large puddle is such a good idea.”

“Aw, come on, kadan. We were just causing-“

“Mayhem.” Bull’s grin was less than apologetic. “I believe even the guard on the furthest battlement now knows that to be fact.”

“But Uncle Dowian!” Conner lisped, wet curls plastered back against his head, grinning up at him from amongst the towering bubbles that only Bull could have assumed necessary, “what’s baf’time without maaaaayhem!” The young boy thrashed in the water, drenching the front of Dorian’s robe and causing Bull to snort with laughter, the mage raising an eyebrow as he stared the boy down.

“Must you splash so ferociously, Connor?”

“It’s not mayhem if you do it sensitively, now is it?” Bull splashed the boy back, causing peals of laughter and Dorian rolled his eyes as he turned from the bathtub.

“Festis bei umo canavarum.” They had agreed to mind the children for a night while the Inquisitor and Commander dealt with a matter outside of Skyhold; Dorian had no qualms in suspecting this suddenly arising issue was simply a night alone minus the small people he was now in custody of. Even he would admit that a night alone with his love in a tent would be considered romantic compared to wrestling two wriggling cherubs into the bath.  “Come, Imogen, that hair of yours will take hours to dry. Join me in sweet, dry sanity.”

The eldest Rutherford glanced over, dressed already in fresh pyjamas, fighting with the wet tangle of blonde that covered her head and followed him wordlessly out into their parents’ private quarters. They found a spot before the fire, and Dorian found himself wondering how on earth one human being could have so much hair as he dried it with the flannel towel. He focused as he worked, enough magic flowing into the thick comb to warm it as he brushed, separating thick blonde curls with care. She nestled into him, humming along with him as he combed, and the warmth of the fireplace filled the room, the glow of the hot embers cloaking it in peace.

He had never considered himself particularly paternal (Maker knows the brats he usually encountered irked him enough to consider investing his efforts into finding a method of reproduction that entirely skipped this phase of life), and he was usually thankful children were most certainly not included on the path he found himself walking. His own experience as a child left a lot to be desired, to say the least. But the little girl currently occupying his lap had been different, as had her brother. Sure, he had gingerly agreed to hold them both as newborns as the Inquisitor had thrust them at him, regardless of the matter that babies were most definitely not his thing. But as time had passed, they had begun to speak through the crystal of their own vocation, to add notes and drawings to the letters their mother had sent north. They were no longer wailing infants needing napkins changed - they were people. Inquisitive, cheerful, entertaining little people, and their charm was compelling. He loved to listen to them play, to marvel at the ingenuity of their endless imagination, and he found himself leaving their company a little lighter in his step. Not to mention threatening to turn them all ‘Tevinter’, and watching Elicia’s amusement and Cullen’s profuse panic, had become his newest hobby.

“Uncle Dorian?”

“Mh?”

“Will you teach me more about magic tomorrow? I want to learn more about the fire.”

He chuckled as he began to plait her hair, fingers working through long tresses. “I fear your father will banish me from Skyhold if I teach you anymore, lest you burn a hole in the curtains. He can be ferocious when he is angry.”

“Daddy?” She laughed, tucking her feet together and shuffling in place. “Daddy isn’t scary. Daddy is…well, Daddy. He’s funny and he tells good stories, and he makes my favourite cocoa and he plays chess with me…” She paused, twiddling her fingers as her face fell. “ He gives good cuddles, especially when I have nightmares. I don’t think I could ever be scared if Daddy is there.”

Dorian supposed many years ago he would have been jealous, even admittedly of this little girl, for something so very natural and normal. For boasting of having a father so involved that he could calm fear with a mere hug, for wanting to spend time with a child he loved. For being the towering, strong, wise, fearless figure of a father he supposed was written into Varic’s best tales. His father had certainly never approached even mediocre, and he wondered how differently his life may have lead had he had a father that too made cocoa and wiped tear-stained cheeks. That, however, was the past and he had no reservations that Cullen was every bit the adoring father to these children out of the same devotion that he suspected the man lived most of his life with, rather than through any desire to see bloodlines preserved or familial honour. And him? Well, he played the adoring uncle, aloof enough to avoid embroiling himself in petty things such as discipline, but involved enough to receive the latest artistic master pieces by raven.

“Well, I am glad he is good at something. He is terrible at chess, and I suppose it runs in the family.”

“Hey, I beat you twice today!” Imogen reached a hand back to prod at him before she sighed, curling a blonde strand around her finger as she straightened up again. “I like having you and Bull here.”

“Well, I suppose I rather like being here too. I have many happy memories at Skyhold.”

“Can’t you stay then? And we could have tea parties each Friday, and you could read me more of the books in the library and…and…it’d be great!”

Oh, and the thought was delightful, not only for the company of his de-facto niece and nephew. A library of his own to complete, to study and to research at his leisure. Bull nearby, at his beck and call when at home, with friends aplenty and the splendours of Skyhold to behold each day. But the cruel reality of duty pulled him back from imaging such pleasures - they were not his to dream of. He completed the plait with a tut, tying the end with a simple bow and tucking it over her shoulder before replying.

“As much as I may wish it, I must return to Tevinter. I am rather important, you see. However would the Magisterium cope without me? It would be so dull, so uninspiring, and so very bland.”

Imogen leant back into him, obvious disappointment in the scowl plastering across her face as she raised her eyes, meeting his gaze as she folded her arms. “What’s so good about Tevinter? What’s it like anyway?”

“Simply breathtaking. Wide landscape, dramatic scenery, the high spires of the city…It is rather brilliant.”

“It can’t be that brilliant. I’m not there.”

“No,” he admitted with a chuckle, patting her cheek with a tender smile. “You are not, little one. I suppose Tevinter shall always be missing that.”

“We could come and visit!” The moment was broken by the arrival of Connor, perched precariously on Bull’s horns, beaming broadly from underneath a thatch of golden curls that bounced with each large step.

“Suggest that one to your father and write me with his decision, Master Rutherford.”

Bull snorted once more, lifting the boy from his shoulders and placing him down on the awaiting bedsheets. “I’d pay silver to see Cullen’s face at the idea of a family vacation to Minrathous.”

Dorian managed to hold back the mirthful sneer that threatened, only for fear of having to explain the inner politics of Thedas this side of midnight to two easily excitable youngsters. He chivvied Imogen gently from his lap, straightening the robe he wore as he stood. “I am going to fetch our bedtime refreshments from the kitchen. I will leave you in charge of the story-telling, amatus.”

“Okay, okay. Settle down, c’mon, because this story kicks a…I mean…butt. Alright…once upon a time, there was a dragon. A biiiiiig dragon. And you know what dragons mean?”

The echo of mayhem followed Dorian down the stone stairs, and he could not help but quench the bittersweet taste in his mouth with the most exasperated, yet content, of laughs.