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welcometoyournewhell · 6 years

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What Family is For

Well that was a waste of time. Not many people read oc based stories but I was hit with the inspiration this morning. I promise I'll get my ass going on the prompts I owe!

WARNING: Contains violent themes, talk of PTSD, gore, and other relating themes. Also contains tickling and fluff.

"People die because you want them too. You kill for pleasure. " The room went silent. It was as if time it's self had come to a standstill. "You call me a monster," The Galran general Voltron had captured spat at Allura. "You've been letting one live with you the entire time! "

Jerome felt sick. He felt like he was going to puke to be exact. His body felt cold, and his eyes burrned with tears that threatened to pour put. "That little fuck has taken out how many people huh? How many?! "

The sound of two hard objects colliding filled the room. The eighteen year old dared to look up to see his uncle looking over the general, a Galran gun in his hand. He had bashed the back end I to the man's face.

"Shut. Up." Adam's orders were simple. The general spit out a wad of blood and a few teeth. "Buddy your attacking the wrong man, " he croaked. "That boy has killed planet leaders. He's killed innocent people, good people! Yet you defend him? " His eyes narrowed at both Allura and Shiro now.

Adam bashed him with the him once more. "I said enough! " Voltron was out on another mission, lucky for the the prisoner. "You think you have any right to cast judgement against me? " Adam looked up at his husband. If he kept beating the guy he may cause some more damage, meaning getting information from him would be a lost cause.

Shiro shook his head before looking at Allura. "Should we put him in a freezing pod until he's needed? " The princess thought for a moment before casting a glance at her nephew. He looked mortified. His face was filled with horror.

The team knew what he had done to an extent, but maybe it was revisiting all the memories that was causing this reaction. "Probably for the best, " she nodded. Shiro walked down to help Adam lug the guy away, leaving Allura, Coran, Krolia, and Jerome alone.

Jerome felt as if his feet we're cemented to the ground. He felt so sick and cold. He wanted to cry, but he also wanted to lash out. He wanted his dads.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder. She wasn't his father but she was a close substitute. Krolia gave her grandson a loving smile trying to reassure him. However Jerome wasn't having it.

He looked down before finally feeling the urge to move. Biting back his gag reflex he thanked his grandmother for the encouragement before leaving.

The three exchanged looks of concern before returning back to their stations, after all... they had a job to do.

Not long after Jerome had curled up in his bed, his baby blanket held to his nose. He was such a child at times but a comfort item was called a comfort item for a reason. Stompers curled up behind him for the warmth radiating off his body.

Flashbacks of his time away from home flipped though his mind as he quietly started to shake and cry. His first time meeting Asmar, the take down! He was resourceful and used the "handcuffs" to his advantage! Because of that he was sparred, but at a cost.

Their next show down the shark-like creature destroyed everyone else in the arena, everyone but Jerome. In the midst of battle the other prisoners thought a sacrifice would calm the beast.

They pinned him down, allowing easier access for the beast. It backfired greatly as Asmar went for then first, but after he left a mark Jerome would always remember.

He clutched his metal arm, the burning sensation returning from the memory. His teeth slowly piercing the skin, breaking the bone and flesh. It was so slow, so agonizing.

They didn't pull him out of the arena either. They all watched as he went for the boy's leg next. Fitting from the foot to mid thigh in his mouth he closed in for the chomp.

Jerome screamed in pain. It was bloodcurdling, however it was unheard over the masses cheering in entertainment. However they stopped once Asmar retreated to his water bed under the arena. After what felt like hours the Galran guards brought him to the infirmary.

The rest was a blank. Just like when he disappeared. The last thing he remembered was saying good night to everytime, when he woke up in the morning he was in some motel room with a dead man in the bathtub. The man turned out to be the king of that planet. He was a small creature, he looked innocent.

Being charged for his death Jerome was locked away until the Galra invaded and dragged the prisoners and civilians on board.

He had no memory of killing him, nor did he have any for the other crimes he had committed. He'd stopped getting of the ship when they would land. Aliens wpuld riot accusing him of different things that he had no recollection with, making it harder to form alliances.

He was broken. He'd been put into so many screwed up situations, like being strung up and fed only vitamins in a dungeon waiting for his marriage to Lucius.

He was strung beside Lotor, the prince's father. He was to be sacrificed the night of their wedding before Lucius became emperor of the Galra empire he had remade in the name of his grandfather, Zarkon. Haggard had taken him in after Lotor tried to recreate the thrown.

She pulled the strings behind the puppet show, buts till catered to the boy's wants and wishes. Despite being his grandmother, she acted as a mother for him. A mentor. She took him in when the world had turned against him at a young age.

But being g locked up for days just hearing the annoying man beside him squeal and whine about everything imaginable, even trying to tell him stories of Voltron; it was a lot.

Killing the prince, and saving his family was the easiest of events so far. Being a hit man living with Asmar. All his memories we're flashing by so quick that he didn't hear the panicked calls.

He was shaking so badly that Stompers had jumped off the bed in annoyance. The skunk now watched as Shiro and Adam tried to pry the boy's arms away from his face.

Shiro felt his heart breaking at the sight. He'd gone through hell and back, he'd never wish it on anyone else. But watching his nephew crumble before him? It was awful. He couldn't help him, especially when the kid refuses to open up anymore about things.

"Jerome." Adam had crawled behind the boy, trying to cuddle. He hoped that it would calm him down. "Jerome it's okay. Daddy and papi are coming back soon. Okay? " Still nothing. The sobs became louder, he was stuck within his own head.

Something the team had grown used to. Shiro would go into similar fits. However, Keith or Adam could usually bring him out of it. It took a while, but they could. Jerome however was a bit more difficult.

Adam pulled the shaking form into him as he started to hum softly. As his husband did they, Shiro started combing through the dark locks of hair. "It's okay, we're here now, " he whispered softly.

The sobs became less patterned and more heartful. The shaking had slowed slightly as two blue eyes peered out from behind the limbs. Jerome whimpered slightly, but his eyes pleaded for help.

Crawling under the covers as well both uncles held their nephew trying to sooth him before his parents returned. "It's okay.... Shhhh... It's alright, " Shiro couldn't bounce him as he did when the boy was just a babe. More often than not he found himself stepping in to help like a father rather than an uncle. But they were a close family.

Finally the shaking ceased. Looking down both men noted how exhausted the boy looked. He needed sleep. But sleep was where the memories laid. Keith could tell what nightmare he was having based on his scream and body action at this point.

The boy was broken. They all knew it. But they didn't stop their love.

After fully calming down the boy nuzzled into Shiro. Something he'd done since birth when Keith or Lance was absent. "I'm sorry, " he whispered softly. "For what, " Adam asked as he leaned his head on lazily.

"For being a damn child, again. For having to bother you to help me as I sob like a five year old. " Shiro furrowed his brow. "Your not acting like a child Jerome, " Adam had beaten him to it.

"Just don't worry about how others see you, alright? There's no need to be ashamed of this. It's something your going to need help with. Your uncle still does. Your parents go through similar things as with everyone else on this ship." He looked over at his husband while speaking.

"It's not a burden on anyone. We're family, we want to help. " Shiro blushed slightly. He had similar insacurities and would try to hide his panic attacks from Adam.

Jerome nodded silently before letting out and 'okay'. Shiro had wanted to ask him about the general but decided now wasn't the best time. "I don't want to sleep, " Jerome mumbled with thick, heavy eyes.

"I know you don't, but you really should. Uncle Adam and I are right here, we'll protect you. " Jerome shook his head. "You can't protect me from things in my head. You can't protect me from stuff in the past, " he argued.

"But we can protect you from things in the future. " Shiro suddenly came up with an idea. He smirked mischievously at Adam who looked a bit wary. "Everything except well... The tickle monster, " he spoke calmly before Jerome dissolved into giggles.

It was a cheer up method he'd used on Keith growing up, it worked pretty well in his nephew too! Adam ran his fingers up and down the small back, as Shiro played with his ear.

Jerome giggled happily and sleepily, not putting up much of a fight. "It tickles, " he squeaked as Adam began to trace his side, he stopped when he felt a bump under the thin shirt. "You weren't going to bed were you? " Jerome shook his head.

"Good, you should sleep with this on," he lectured as he pulled on the bottom of the binder softly. It was like having four parents, it really was. The eighteen year old squirmed slightly, as demanding more physical attention.

His uncles gladly gave into the request tickling under his arms and his belly. "Nahahah, " he squealed happily. "Does it tickle? Huh, " Shiro teased. Jerome nodded happily, exposing more of his body for acsess.

Both adults chuckled briefly before tickling their nephew to tears. By the time they stopped loud foot steps could be heard echoing down the hall. The door slammed open revealing both Lance and Keith in their armor.

They were panting heavily, a look of panic on their faces. "Jerome, " they exclaimed in sync. The boy remained against his uncle as he put his hand up to slightly wave. Adam and Shiro gave a smile before allowing the parents their rightful places.

"Sleep tight kid, " Shiro said before ruffling the boy's hair. Adam copied the motion before they left the room.

"Baby, you okay? " Keith was practically smothering him. "Yeah dad, I'm okay. " Lance was quietly holding him. Whenever it came room the six month absence he got like this. His depression just came rushing back.

"We love you, " he spoke softly.

"I love you guys too. "

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whispersandwhiskerburn · 6 years

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It’s a Terrible Tree

Angel’s 2017 Christmas Drabble #9 (Christmas Drabbles List)

Request: @plaidstiel-wormstache said: Sam with the sad Christmas Tree: I'm thinking decorating anything that resembles a tree, even a dead branch, cause this way it's "officially" Christmas with a "decorated tree"?! Pairing: AU?--Sam Wesson x Reader Word Count: 1,830 Warnings: Negative Christmas themes portrayed realistically: Financial struggle, stress of the holiday? Combined with the angst of how Sam Wesson felt in that episode canonically... but it has a fluffy ending. :D Flangst? Author’s Note: This was a weird combination. I try to write canon-style, but I could only picture this request working with an AU-Sam...which led to Sam Wesson, for whom I’ve never written. But the prompt also reminded me of something my dad did to my mom on their first Christmas together.... but I wanted to end with fluffy Christmas feelings. Idk if it worked well, but thanks for trusting me to write it anyway!

“Hello, my name is Sam Wesson, and how can I help you today?”

He was so tired of this job.

“Yes, ma’am, I understand.”

Every day was the exact same thing. Over and over again.

“Have you tried turning it off? Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

Over and over and over again.

“Give it a moment.”

The monotony was going to drive him insane, and soon.

“Okay, ma’am try turning it back on again. It’s working now?”

He finished the call on auto-pilot, much like the life he was living.

“That’s great. No problem, ma’am, I’m glad to help. Happy holidays, and thank you for calling Sandover Tech Support.”

He disconnected the call and leaned back in his tiny desk chair, which barely fit in his tiny office cubicle, which never seemed to fit him.

It wasn’t just the stress of the holidays, the overtime he was working just to earn enough to pay the bills, the loss of his buddy in the cubicle behind him. He would never understand how Ian would kill himself like that. Or Paul for that matter.

Maybe the Christmas stress was what got them.

Sam Wesson felt that nagging thing in the back of his mind, an urge that something wasn’t right, that nothing was right. Once again, he fought to ignore it. Just like he fought those ridiculous dreams where he was fighting things that didn’t exist.

When his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, he took it out with a sigh, hoping it wasn’t another bill collector. When he saw Y/N’s face and name though, the first genuine smile stretched across his face and he leaned into his cubicle to take his non-work call.

“Hey babe.”

“Hey, yourself.” He could hear her smile in their usual back and forth response. Even though it fit the pattern of his life, this part never felt wrong, never felt monotonous.

“I know you’re busy and everything, but I just got off the phone with my mother--” Sam could practically hear Y/N’s eye roll, “and she’s really insisting we nail down a date for for when we can go visit them for a Christmas dinner. I know it means a half-day of work to take the drive, but… it’s my mother. And it’s Christmas.”

Sam let the silence sit for a moment. He knew this was important, but he’d just gone over his work schedule with his floor manager after the morning meeting.

“I’m sorry, babe, we’re short staffed and Richards has me working almost every shift. What about inviting her over to our place instead?” At least that way his boss couldn’t complain.

“Are you sure, Sam? I mean, our place is kind of small, and we haven’t decorated or anything…. Mom would love to come; she’s been bugging me about inviting her over ever since we moved in together, and I don’t mind cooking but…”

Sam pictured her chewing on her bottom lip the way she did when she was worried about something.

He smiled, “It’ll be fine, Y/N. Look, you’re out late tonight with Beth, right?”

Her friend was having a bachelorette party and Y/N, as the maid of honor, had been fielding a lot of responsibilities with that, adding to her stress.

“Yeah, probably till midnight or so. Quite a few in the bridal party have to work tomorrow.”

“Well, I’ll decorate when I get home--” She scoffed in disbelief.

“What? I can decorate. As I was saying, I’ll decorate when I get home, make it look really nice for you and your mom and Christmas. Your mom can come by tomorrow night, then we can have our own holiday to ourselves. What do you think?”

There was a silence and Sam took a moment to lean out and look around, making sure that Richards wasn’t creeping up on him. His work phone was ringing now with two calls on hold. He really needed to get back to work.

“It sounds nice Sam. See you tonight?”

“Yep. Bye for now, babe.”

He put his phone away, then opened up his line 1: ““Hello, my name is Sam Wesson, and how can I help you today?”

Sam woke up from a new nightmare. This time, he and a guy who was routinely in his dreams but whom Sam had never met in real life, had been hunting/been hunted by some kind of monster in the woods--something with long claws that moved way too fast and ate people.

He shook off the remaining oddness, trying to figure out what had woken him, when he heard a noise from the living room of the small apartment Y/N and he shared.

A glance at the glowing digits on the alarm clock made him realize it was probably just Y/N coming home, but he sat up and got out of bed anyway. Sam walked on softly across the room and through the door, searching for his girlfriend, hoping for a kiss to knock the memory of that nightmare away and ground him in reality again.

He found her in her favorite chair in the living room, staring at the little Christmas tree he’d put up that evening.

Sam had decorated the place festively but logically he thought--there were lights around the railing posts outside the door, a wreath and bow hanging on the door, and inside, a tree.

Well, part of a tree.

He didn’t think they’d have the room, time for upkeep and clean up, or the need for a full size tree, so he’d found a suitable one in the woods behind the complex and had cut off the top foot and a half of the tree, snapping off the lower branches to make a “trunk” at the bottom, then stuck the whole thing in a large Christmas bowl with potting soil and watered it.

The whole thing fit on top of the radiator (in a fire-safety approved place of course), and after he’d strung a five foot length of white lights around in with a star on top, he’d congratulated himself on a job very well done and gone to bed.

But now Y/N was sitting there, staring at it with a look on her face that made him wonder if--

Then she just started crying.

“Y/N? Babe?”

He crouched down next to her chair, his eyes just below hers, or where hers would be if she hadn’t buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

What the hell? Had something happened on her girl’s night out? Had he done something wrong?

“Babe, what’s wrong?” His hands stroked her upper arms, his knees resting on the floor to better his balance as he tried to comfort her.

She sobbed again, but a hand gesture towards the tree gave him a hint.

“I’m so sorry, babe, I thought you’d like it. I can get rid of it, get you something better. Please don’t cry….”

He stood up, scooping her into his arms in the process then turning and sitting in her chair with her in his lap as Sam held her close to his chest.

“Please stop crying, babe, shhhh. Talk to me….”

He held as her sobs quieted, her nose runny and sniffly against his chest. His own heart was in his throat--he knew Y/N well enough to know this had to be about more than the stupid little tree.

A moment later she confirmed it, “it’s not just the tree, Sam.”

He waited, holding her tight, worried about what could be coming next.

“You’ve just been so… distant, lately. Nightmares, and hating your work, and silent and unhappy all the time. You’re not talking to me about what’s bothering you, and my mother’s coming, and my best friend’s getting married, and for all I know we’re going to break up because you’re not happy, andthetreeistoosmalland--”

Her words started to run together as her sniffles turned to crying again and Sam shook her a bit, trying to distract her, to get her to listen to him.

“Hey, hey, breathe, Y/N. Deep breath…” she took a half a gasp and he shook her a little, “better than that, come on, deep breath,” she filled her lungs, only one small sniffle interrupting her inhale, “okay, now breathe out…. Good.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m sorry I worried you.

“Yes, I’ve been out of it recently. I didn’t want to bother you with it--work is stressful, so much so that two guys on my floor committed suicide within a day or so of each other about a week ago.”

She looked up at him, her face so close to his where he was still cradling her frame. He placed a quick kiss to her cheek, wiping away a tear drop. Then another as he continued.

“And yes, I’ve been having weird nightmares lately. I don’t know what that’s about, but I didn’t want to worry you, so I kept it to myself. I’m sorry I’ve been hiding so much, but I need you to listen to me right now.”

He shifted her a bit so she was sitting more on his lap, her eyes closer to him as Sam looked at her seriously. He didn’t want her doubting his sincerity in this moment.

“My not being happy has nothing to do with you. In the weirdness of my life, the boredom of my job, the strangeness of my dreams, you, Y/N, you are the bright spot that keeps me going. You keep me together, make me happy--and I care way too much about you to let anything else get in between us, okay?”

She nodded a watery smile across her face. Sam kept eye contact with her for a moment longer, just to make sure she understood he meant every word, then he pulled her close for a kiss.

Her lips were a little salty from her tears, and he kept the kiss gentle, comforting, pouring his unspoken love into her in a way that his crappy words would never be able to show her.

When he ended the kiss, Sam pulled her into his chest again, hugging her as she sighed, seemingly over whatever had brought on the worried crying. He was thankful she wasn’t crying, even if he still didn’t fully understand what had brought on such a strong reaction.

Women were strange, wonderful creatures.

“Sam?”

Her mumble was low, but her mouth was close enough to his ear that he couldn’t miss it.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Tomorrow you’re going to go get me a better tree, okay?”

He leaned back and smiled at her, tear-stained, puffy-eyed, and swollen-lipped. Completely beautiful.

“Sure thing, babe. And I’ll text you a picture before it comes home with me, sound good.”

She nodded and snuggled back into his chest. Sam gladly held onto the one thing in his life that fit better than anything else.

“Merry Christmas, Sam.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

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#Angel's Christmas Drabbles #Sam x Reader #Sam Wesson x Reader #Sam Wesson #Canon AU #Flangst

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fluffyllamas-23 · 7 years

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Thank you, Anon, for this wonderful prompt omg. I will love you forever and ever for sending this to me (not sure if this was exactly what you wanted so I’m just gonna apologize in advance 😂)

Kelsey loved theater. It was her passion. If it paid better, she would have decided to pursue it full time.

Unfortunately, it didn’t, and she was a realist. Although she was pretty damn good, she knew she would ever make it to Broadway. So, she resigned to just acting at her local community theatre.

Currently, Kelsey was preparing for their summer musical - “Wicked”, where she had snagged the role of Glinda. She was entirely too stressed out over it - she loved the role, and wanted to nail it, but it was the biggest one she had gotten. So there she was, stressing over her lines the night before opening night.

“Kelsey, are you coming to bed?” Lincoln asked, groggy with sleep as he leaned against the doorframe. She looked up for the first time in hours, her eyes burning.

“What time is it?”

“Almost two AM.” He said, yawning tiredly.

She pushed away from the table. “Oh shit.“

"You were studying your lines all this time?” He frowned, putting a hand on her lower back as they walked to their bedroom.

“Yeah…I’m just…I’m really nervous for opening night.”

“Not sleeping at all the night before won’t help you.” He said softly. “But you’re going to be incredible. I can’t wait to watch it.”

“What if I suck?” She moaned as he pushed her gently towards the bed.

“You won’t.” He said, pulling the covers over her.

She gripped his shirt, her eyes filling with tears. “But what if I do? W-what if I mess up and forget my lines? What if-”

“-Shhhh.” He soothed, putting a hand on her cheek, and staring into her tired eyes. “Baby, how long has it been since you’ve slept?”

“I don’t know.” She whimpered, blinking away the tears.

“You are exhausted. Get some sleep.” He said, brushing the hair off her forehead

She nodded, her eyelids already drooping. She still didn’t let go of his shirt, so he climbed over her carefully, and as soon as he was lying next to her, she rolled on her other side and curled up into him.

She slept soundly until about nine, when a steady throbbing in her head woke her up.

“Shiiiiiit.” She groaned.

“What’s the matter?” He mumbled, nuzzling his face into her neck.

Kelsey pursed her lips. “My throat hurts…so does my head…I think I’m getting sick.”

“I’m not surprised.” He said, propping himself up on his elbow. “You’ve been going pretty much nonstop for the past few months, you’re sleep deprived, and you’re stressed. That, my dear, is pretty much a recipe for coming down with something.”

Kelsey groaned, burying her face in the pillow. “I’m so achey.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely getting sick.” He frowned, taking the pillow off her face.

“It’s opening night! What am I going to do?!” She panicked.

“First off, you need to relax. Stressing out over it isn’t going to do you any good. I’m going to go get you some airborne, and orange juice, and we’re going to nip this thing in the bud.” He said, determination in his eyes. “What time do you have to be there tonight?”

“Six.”

“Six.” He repeated, nodding once. “Well it’s still early. You can sleep until then. Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“I’m giving you food anyways.”

“Liiiiiink.” She whined. “I’m not hungry.”

“Yeah, I heard you, but you need to eat. You’ll just feel worse if you go all day without food.”

“Whatever.” She grumbled, crossing her arms and staring up at the ceiling.

Lincoln was just hoping that this was a fluke thing. She tended to get sick slowly, but when she finally was sick, she was down for the count.

“Link, I don’t think I can do this.” She whimpered, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and she couldn’t help but melt into his embrace.

“I know you don’t feel well.” He said softly in her ear. “I know. And I wish I could get you back home in bed, but this is what you’ve been preparing for. You’re going to do terrific.”

She just groaned and slumped into him. “I’m exhausted.”

“Drink your coffee, take the medicine I gave you, you should be feeling alright for the show. Then I’ll take you home and you can sleep the rest of the night.” He said, kissing her forehead. He frowned, and put a hand on her cheek. “You seem warm. Do you feel like you’re running a fever?”

She pressed her face into his chest and gripped his shirt, fisting it in her hands. “I feel so achey and heavy and I just want to go to sleep.”

He whined sadly. This seemed to be coming on much more quickly than either of them were accustomed to or anticipating. “I’m so sorry, Kelse.”

“Nnngh…I have to go.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Take the meds, you’ll feel better.”

Thirty minutes later, Lincoln was sitting in the audience, gripping the bag he had brought and filled with various things she would need once she was finished. He had a thermos of tea, tissues, cough drops, a thermometer and a few bottles of water. He sat on the edge of his seat, bouncing his leg anxiously as he gnawed on his bottom lip. She just had to make it two more hours.

HE just had to make it two more hours.

The house lights flashed, signaling that it was time for the show to start.

Lincoln held his breath, waiting for Kelsey to come on stage. Once he could see her and see that she was okay, he would be able to relax a little.

Much to his surprise, Kelsey was terrific. He knew she would be, but he had been worried that whatever bug she had caught would affect her performance.

Honestly, if you didn’t know her, you’d never be able to tell that she was sick.

Lincoln waited outside the door that the cast would be coming out of. The moment Kelsey stepped outside, she all but collapsed into Lincoln’s arms, coughing miserably.

“Good news is, you were fucking fantastic.” Lincoln murmured into her ear. “Even better news is that you’re done for the night and you can get some rest.”

“Did I really do okay?” She croaked.

“Absolutely.”

“I didn’t forget anything. I almost did, but then I remembered.” Kelsey mumbled, and then twisted away from him to let out a trio of congested sneezes.

“Bless you.” He sighed, putting a hand on her lower back. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

She nodded, her eyelids drooping as he led her to the car.

Lincoln helped her into the passenger’s seat, and then rummaged through the bag he had slung over his shoulder.

“How’s your throat?” He asked, handing her the thermos of tea.

“Hurts.” She rasped.

“Yeah, i figured.” He sighed. “Drink the tea, it should help.”

“Thank you.” She sniffled. He handed her the tissues, and then grabbed the thermometer and stuck it in her ear.

“Is it necessary to do this here?” She croaked, going into a coughing fit.

“Yes.” He said, pulling the blanket that was at her feet over her lap. The thermometer beeped. “One oh two. Yikes. I thought you’d be running a fever.”

“Can we just go home?” She moaned, pulling her knees to her chest. Everything felt jerky. Her entire body was so achey and heavy, and it seemed to take all of her energy and effort just to get to the car.

She was exhausted and just wanted to go lie down in her bed.

He kissed her temple. “Yeah, try to close your eyes, I know your head is probably bothering you.”

“How can you tell?”

“You’ve been grimacing.”

“Oh.”

He chuckled. “Ready to go?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Hey.” He said, pressing his lips to her burning forehead.

“Hmm?” She mumbled looking at him.

“I love you, and I’m very proud of you.”

She shot him a weak smile. “Thanks…love you, too.”

Kelsey settled against the window, her eyelids dropping as she fell asleep.

#OCs #thank you thank you thank you for the ask #sorry this took so long #I hope you liked it anon #I apologize if I accidentally wrote Spencer instead of Lincoln #I got rly confused part of the way through #and started writing spencer oops #I'm also not 100% with it rn #I always ramble in the tags I'm sorry #one day I will have a spectacular ending #but today is not that day #I'm sorry XD #Lincoln and Kelsey

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slothquisitor · 7 years

Note

May I ask for another prompt? Could you tell us about the day Mara and Cullen went to adopt Argos?

Of course! You’re not the only one to request this, @beccaboo8810 also wanted to know about Argos and Mara moving in. In Reparation, Argos is a surprise present from Sera, so I wanted to keep her involved. :)

Dog Days of Summer

1k, Cullen’s POV.

Also on AO3.

“I think that might be the last of it,” Cullen said as he put what he hoped was the final box in the back of the small moving truck.

Mara was behind him in a t-shirt and jeans, a crate of cleaning supplies in hand. “I sure hope so.”

She really didn’t have that much, her entire life had fit into the small ten-foot truck, but Cullen had foolishly thought they didn’t need any help. They’d done alright just the two of them, but it had been exhausting.

Mara had been slowly moving her things over the last couple of weeks, and they had been moving things around in his house to make room. Cullen didn’t have definite opinions about much of his things, wasn’t even overly attached to most of them. He was just happy she was moving in at all. He probably would have let her paint everything pink as she had jokingly suggested if it meant she’d be there.

“I’m going to do one last walk-through, I’ll be right back,” Mara said, kissing him quickly on the cheek and setting her crate down.

“Alright,” he replied, pulling the cargo door shut and latching it. The summer day was already hot, even though it wasn’t even mid-Justinian. Denerim usually avoided the really hot temperatures until Solace. The peaks of the mountains were still mostly white, though the snowpack was melting more quickly than usual. The rivers had been overflowing, and there had been too many news stories of people losing their lives to the cold and quick moving waters.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Sera.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Cully! We need your help!” Sera said. She didn’t sound panicked or worried, but she did sound excited and that concerning on its own.

“Okay,” he said cautiously.

“Come over now. You’re not busy, right? I mean it’s summer, who’s busy? We aren’t!” Sera was rambling, and that was never a good sign.

Cullen sighed. “We’re in the middle of moving Mara’s things, can we come by later?”

“Pfffft...bring all that stuff. We’re on the way!” Sera replied.

Mara came out from her apartment, closing the door behind her. “What’s up?”

“One second, Sera.” He muted her. “It’s Sera, apparently we need to go over right now.”

Mara laughed and checked her phone. “It’s only ten, and we have the truck until six. Why not?”

“I was hoping you’d be less cool with this,” Cullen admitted.

“Sera has me curious,” Mara shrugged.

“That’s her plan, we get curious and show up and she’ll pelt us with water balloons or something.”

Mara held her hand out for his phone, and he handed it to her. “Sera, we’re on our way.”

Cullen was sure he could hear some sort of celebration on the other end when Mara handed the phone back to him and he hung up.

He threw Mara the keys. “You’re driving.”

Mara stuck her tongue out at him. “Fine.”

Sera and Dagna lived not far from Skyhold in a sleepy farm town hidden among hills. Their house was brown brick with red accents. It looked smaller from the front than it really was, but Cullen’s favorite part was how the roof curved out over the front door. The house was cheery, but mostly it looked like it was always giving the world a lopsided smile. They didn’t really have neighbors, which was probably a good thing. Their house sat on a good size bit of land, and he could see the beehives from the road as they pulled up along the narrow street. There wasn’t sidewalk on their street, so he just pulled off a bit so anyone who drove by could get around them.

Sera was at the screen door before he or Mara could knock, one finger up to her lips. “Shhhh.” She was barefoot wearing only a red tank top and shorts.

“What is going on?” Mara whispered.

Sera opened the screen door as quietly as possible. “He’s sleeping.” She said it like it explained everything.

“Who’s sleeping?” Cullen asked.

“Little no name,” Sera said, waving them inside. It was pleasantly cool in the dark house, and there nestled on the couch on a blue blanket was a small mabari curled up, and asleep. His coat was a soft gray, but there were little patches of white around his muzzle.

“Oh, he’s so cute!” Mara whispered, and moved around to the front of the couch. Sera and Dagna’s house was a colorful and eclectic mix of their tastes, and almost every wall was a different color.

“One of the kids found him abandoned in a field and brought him here. Dagna’s cat hates him,” Sera explained. He knew that ‘kids’ meant one of her students.

“Where is Dagna?” Mara asked.

Sera shrugged. “She’s teaching summer school until one.”

Cullen looked to Sera. “So?”

“Do you want him?” Sera asked.

Mara’s face lit up, and Cullen knew that saying no was not going to be an acceptable answer. The puppy was cute, and he had a fenced in yard. “I’ve always wanted a mabari.”

Mara’s answering smile was worth it. “Really?”

Sera grinned. “As a heart attack. You’ll take good care of him, yeah?”

“Yes!” Mara said, clearly louder than she intended to because she clapped a hand over her mouth as soon as she spoke.

In response the puppy jumped, but upon opening his eyes and seeing other people there he immediately got up, tail wagging.

Mara bent down to pet him. “Oh, who wouldn’t want you. He needs a name.”

Cullen moved to her side. “You’re thinking something literary, aren’t you?”

She glared at him. “You’re thinking something historical, aren’t you?”

“Nerds,” Sera said under her breath, walking through to the kitchen. “I’m making lunch.”

“What about Tennyson?” Mara asked, undeterred.

Cullen shook his head. “I am not naming him after a poet.”

“Okay, what’s your pick then?” Mara asked.

Cullen scratched the puppy under the chin. “Argos.”

Mara thought about it for a moment. “The dog in The Odyssey?”

“Yes.”

Mara picked the puppy up. “What do you think, should we call you Argos?” The puppy snuggled into her arms.

“Well I think it’s safe to say he likes you,” Cullen smiled.

“Fine, Rutherford. Argos it is.”

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