#sorry for the tag dump I’m just very tightly wound

[xoxoemynn]

Emy 😊💕✨ just sending a big hug and the best wishes for you to get lots of happiness and fun and health these last days of the year and the next one too and always stay safe and keep being so awesome and super talented and a lovely person and a sweet friend 😘😘💕 and let's just keep thinking about our favorite gay pirates 🏳️‍🌈🏴‍☠️😚

This is me basking in all of your kindness and loveliness. I appreciate this note and you more than you can possibly know. Thank you, darling. 💕

[imkylotrash]

Black And White (4)

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Summary: Things are finally getting back to normal when Harry offers to set you up on a blind date and Saul tells you to do it so as not to raise any suspicion. You don’t necessarily feel the same way. 

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody​ @artsyle​

“What is it?” he asks noticing your hesitation. 

“It’s gone. The wound is healed.” All that remains is fresh pink skin as if it were healed months ago. You’re scared to believe your own eyes. Maybe it’s a dream. 

“Is it better?” Sky asks barging through the door. You quickly back away from Saul but you doubt Sky had the chance to notice with how excited he is. He grinning from ear to ear already seeing the difference in Saul. 

“What did you do?” Saul asks with a dangerous tone. You watch him turn pale when Sky accounts for his night out in the forest tracking the Burned One. You should go but deep down you know Saul would like you to stay. Instead you try to make yourself as small as possible while Saul yells at Sky. It’s only for a moment before even Saul has to admit that it took guts to do what Sky did. 

“Get to class, idiot.” They hug and while Saul is never going to admit it, you know he’s proud of Sky’s courage even if what he did could’ve gone terribly wrong. Very slowly, Saul turns to you with a sigh. 

“I want to sleep in my own bed,” he says and you can’t blame him for hating the makeshift bed they made for him in the greenhouse. You wouldn’t mind getting some sleep either to be honest. 

“I’ll take you,” you offer thankful no one will question you escorting him back to his quarters after being hurt by a Burned One. Oddly enough, no one is in the corridors as you walk back but you still maintain your cover. It isn’t until you’re safely behind the locked door that you throw yourself into his arms feeling the last 24 hours hit you. He clings onto you just as tightly. 

“You can’t do that to me again,” you say voice muffled as you press your face against his chest. The smell of blood and grass serves as a reminder of what happened. Even if Sky managed to kill it, you still feel the anxiety and worry. 

“I won’t,” he says placing a gentle kiss on top of your head. Though your body cries for rest, you force yourself to strip down and head for the shower. Without another word, Saul follows you. Getting cleaned up before sleeping is definitely the best order to do it in. You cuddle up ready to sleep for days. A week passes before Saul is finally back on his feet entirely but it’s also been really nice to have so much time alone. Normally, he’s always working or having meetings with Dowling and Harvey but this week he mostly stayed in bed. Selfishly, you really liked it when you could have a slumber party every day. 

“I should probably join the others for dinner,” you say though making no attempt to move. It’s Saturday and you’ve been hiding under the duvet the entire day with music playing in the background.

“You probably should,” he replies staying in the same position as before. You know Harry has been blowing up your phone wondering where you are and you don’t want to lie to him so instead you’ve sort of been avoiding him even though it pains you. 

“I’ll go find Harry,” you state at last convincing yourself to get out of bed, “I’ll be back later.” You give him a quick peck on the lips before heading out. Down in the dining hall, Harry is waiting impatiently for you to arrive. 

“I’m actually surprised to see you here. I thought you might have gotten kicked out of Alfea since I haven’t seen you at all for an entire week.” He’s definitely not holding back. And he’s not being quiet either. His little outburst causes several pair of eyes to look in your direction. It’s unwanted attention for you but Harry seems to love it. 

“First off, don’t be a drama queen. You’ve seen me in classes and at training. Second of all, I’ve been really behind on homework so I’ve spent most of my time in the library.” You know the mentioning of library will keep him from asking more questions; he hates the library. In general, he really hates reading which works nicely for a specialist, considering most of our skills are learned training different techniques outside. 

“I heard you saved Saul Silva’s life.” Harry has already gotten food for you both at the table. You don’t realise just how hungry you are until you take the first bite. 

“I didn’t save Saul, “ you say in between bites, “Sky killed the Burned One. I just did the zanbaq.” If you would’ve had anything to say about it, you would’ve been out there hunting that thing but you know Saul would never even entertain the idea of you leaving. 

“That greenhouse saves lives every day and you’re part of that. You saved his life just as much as Sky did.” At that you sit up a little straighter feeling Harry stroke your ego. It’s nice to have that acknowledged but even if you could do nothing, you’d find something. You’d never be able to just watch Saul grow weaker. 

“Thank you. And sorry I’ve been MIA. I’ll do better.” He accepts your apology easily once again reminding you why you work so well as friends. He never hold a grudge or act mad for longer than five minutes. And he always accepts an apology. It’s a nice side of him that not a lot of people get to see. 

“I actually have a proposal for you,” Harry starts and you nod to tell him to go on. 

“I was talking to some friends from back home and one of them is single. How would you feel about a blind date?” You’re gobsmacked. A blind date? You hardly do “seeing” dates. 

“I don’t know,” you say instantly wondering what Saul is going to think when you tell him later. He’ll either find it funny or feel the need to punch someone. There’s no middleground when it comes to Saul. 

“Come on, princess. You need to get out more,” Harry tries and you’re not exactly sure how to spin a convincing lie. You can’t very well tell him you already have a boyfriend even if you wish you could. 

“I get out plenty, thank you very much,” you say pointedly trying to hide the smile that keeps trying to break free, “let me think about it.” He agrees not mentioning it for the rest of dinner. You and him decide to meet out on the training grounds tomorrow just for the sake of it before you sneak back to Saul’s room. 

“You’re not going to believe this. Harry wants to set me up on a blind date.” You laugh out loud but your laugh is quickly ruined by the silence. 

“Maybe you should do it,” Saul says keeping his eyes fixed on a crack in the wall. 

“What?” you ask even though you heard him the first time. Why would he want you to date other people? Is this his horrible way of dumping you? 

“I just figured it would be a good cover. No one will ask questions if they see you out with someone else.” You take a minute to think it over but no matter what angle you look at it from, it just feels wrong.

“Has anyone asked questions?” Not one person has ever questioned whether or not you were in a relationship and you highly doubt this will change anything. 

“I’m not saying they are, I’m saying they might.” 

“Let me get this straight. You nearly die almost giving me a heart attack and just a week later you want me to go on a date with someone that’s not you?” 

“I’m saying let’s keep creating a better cover story. Farah has been asking. I doubt she knows anything but just the way she worded it. I got worried. So, do this for me,” Saul explains but you’re still not getting it. He’d rather send you off on a date than admit to Dowling that he’s dating you. 

“Where are you going?” he asks watching you grab your stuff. 

“I’m going to go to my room.  Apparently, I have a date.” You can’t hide the hurt in your voice when you say it. Saul reaches out for you but you don’t take his hand. You hate that there’s so long until graduation where you can finally tell everyone you’re seeing him.

“Please don’t leave angry,” he pleads with you but it’s too late. 

“Enjoy staying in bed. I’ll go on a date with someone that isn’t my boyfriend.”  You are angry. He almost died and now his biggest concern is removing the spotlight from his relationship to you and you’re not here for it. You’ve accepted many things but you shouldn’t have to accept this. You don’t look back as you leave him too upset to handle the hurt you know you’ll see on his face. 

“You want me to go on a date? Fine, I’ll go on a date.” 

[shsl-otaku]

Where Greed Goes, Despair Follows: Chp. 13

Y/N: Raven Sin of Despair

Pairing: Ban & Y/N

Anime: Seven Deadly Sins

Genre: Adventure, Romance

Warnings: hints of a breakdown

Tag List: @asgleo16 @yuri-2018 @vialuciferscage @commanderawkward @chidayasays @misfitgirlwrites @amberfoxcosplay @catlover7722 @shiggi-trash @supremetodoroki @happynoodle @remikay313 @milkysamu @kageyamis

•••

'I love you so much. I can’t believe this is finally happening.'

'I love you too. I think I’m probably the luckiest girl in the world!'

'Me too. I’m so happy!'

'This is almost like a dream that I never want to wake up from.'

'Y/N... You know, my dream is that maybe... maybe we can get married? Have kids? Live our lives and dreams together in love.'

'Wow... I’d love that.'

'Hey, EX/N? (your ex’s name. If you don’t have one, then you can use a random name lol) What’s your biggest fear when it comes to us?'

'My biggest fear? It would be losing you.'

'Well, I’ll always love you. So don’t worry. You’ll never lose me.'

'I love you, Y/N.'

'I love you too, EX/N.'

'Y/N, he... I’m so sorry.'

'Why? What happened?'

'He... He said he wants to end it.'

'...'

'Why? Did I do something wrong? Please, what did I do?'

'Y/N, I don't want to talk about this right now. Can we talk about this tomorrow?'

'EX/N, you p̵̖͛r̴̪̀o̷̳͛m̷̼̋i̸̗̔s̷̢͒ë̵͔d̴̼̅.'

Why? Why me? What did I do wrong? I thought he said he was scared of losing me? Am I not good enough? What did I do? Why does it hurt to much? Make it stop. Someone make it stop. Please. It hurts so much. I want to die. I want to die. It hurts. I̷̻͝T̶̖̍ Ḣ̷̟͎̯Ǘ̵̠̺͍͓̈̒͠R̷̞̙̖̓͊T̵̳̳͋S̵̫̊̐̕—

Your eyes flashed opened and you bolted upward, breathing heavily. Your eyes were wide as tears began dripping from them.

You covered your mouth before you could make any noise. You threw the blankets off of you and staggered to a far corner of your room. You sat there, holding your hand tightly over your mouth as tears streamed down your face.

'Why did I have to dream about him? I thought I was over this already. Why now?' You let out a muffled sob.

'Ban’s sleeping out on the floor of the bar. I don’t want to wake him up just because I had some stupid nightmare about my stupid problems. It hurts so badly. I wish I didn’t have to feel this anymore.'

You stared at the window, looking at your reflection in the glass. Tears ran down your flushed cheeks. You saw a glowing red eye look back at you.

You turned away, looking at the rays of moonlight that streamed through your window.

'I just want the sun to be up already.'

•••

"Um, Hawk? About Sir Meliodas, perhaps you could tie him up a bit looser next time?" Elizabeth said meekly. “He can’t get a good night’s sleep like that.”

"It defeats the whole purpose if he’s not tied up like that," Hawk yelled. "He’s gonna get all gropey if he’s in the same bed as you! Precautions are needed!"

Elizabeth furrowed her brows. "But I-"

"If you think of it as foreplay, it’s actually pretty pleasant," Meliodas said, chewing his food.

"Foreplay?" Elizabeth asked.

"Maybe I’ll have you tie me up starting next time," Meliodas suggested. Elizabeth blushed.

"You sleaze," Hawk grumbled.

"What’s that? Tie who up? Hawk?" Diane asked, looking in through the window.

"No! Not me," Hawk shrieked.

"Captain, I need a drink," Ban said, sitting at one of the bar stools.

You silently walked in and sat on the stool farthest from Ban. "Pour me a drink too."

"Ban, isn’t it a little early?" Diane said, raising an eyebrow. "And Y/N, you never drink this early either!"

"It’s fine," you said, resting your head in your hands. Ban looked at you, confused.

"Sir Ban, Y/N, would you like some breakfast?" Elizabeth asked politely.

"No, thank you,” you said, sounding tired.

Ban raised a brow at you, then looked away. "You expect me to eat the Captain’s lousy cooking?" He teased.

"Make it yourself, then," Meliodas said, tossing a bottle of ale to Ban. "Hey, Y/N! Catch!" He tossed another bottle of ale to you, which you caught with your left hand.

"Thanks," you mumbled, trying to open the bottle.

Ban looked at you from the corner of his eye and saw that your hands were shaking. He noticed that your eyes and nose were slightly red, as if you were recently crying. He felt a wave of concern wash over him, until he remembered his dream of Elaine last night. He shook his head.

You felt a slight aura of despair rippling off Ban and decided to look into it. Your eyes widened in realization when you saw glimpses of his dream last night. 'He dreamt about Elaine.'

You took a shaky breath but then felt your throat start to close in on itself. You stood up and walked back to your room, trying to keep the others from seeing your face.

"Let me know when we get there. I’m going to sleep," you said, closing your door before anyone could say anything.

•••

"We’re here," Meliodas said, standing out on Hawk’s mom. You stood silently, wearing your black cloak. You had your hood on so that no one would be able to see your eyes and flushed face.

"This is the Necropolis?" Diane asked, standing next to Hawk’s mom. She scanned the rundown, abandoned, tiny village.

"How can they call a rundown hamlet like this a city?" Hawk said.

"Rumor has it that this is the place that’s closest to the Necropolis," Meliodas replied.

You all got off of Hawk’s mom and stood on the dirt road that ran through the village.

"We’ll start by gathering intel on King and the Necropolis," Meliodas said. "We also need money to feed ourselves. Okay! Let’s get ready for business!"

"You seriously gonna run the bar, Captain?" Ban said, smirking at him.

"He’s seriously cute when he’s working," Diane squealed. You just stared off into the distance, tuning out the others.

"You guys are gonna work too," Meliodas said, pointing at everyone.

He pointed to Diane. "Start attracting us some customers, jumbo billboard girl," he said.

"Me?!" Diane said, sparkles in her eyes.

"And you cook up some some tasty grub, jailbird cook," Meliodas said, pointing to Ban.

"Me?" Ban asked.

"You sure you don’t mean 'smelly'?" Hawk commented, catching your attention and making you smile.

"I want to be sarcastic and say it’s skillfully made, but it’s generally tasty," Meliodas said.

"Hey, hang on—" Ban started.

"And you," Meliodas said, pointing at you. "You’ll join Elizabeth as a waitress!"

Your eyes widened and you turned to look at him. "I’m sorry, you want me to what—?"

"To work, then," Meliodas exclaimed. "Put your backs into it, people!"

You groaned and started walking into the village. You felt your heart grow heavy as you heard Diane hugging and exclaiming her glee to Meliodas. You heard footsteps nearby you and turned in surprise to see Ban walking next to you.

"That’s not even funny, Captain," Ban mumbled your himself. "Anyway, what kind of intel does he expect us to get in a gloomy dump like this?" You sighed, still drained and exhausted from last night.

"Whatever," you mumbled to yourself.

"Oi, Y/N. What was wrong with you earlier? Your hands were shaking," Ban said, looking at you.

You felt your eye twitch before turning and glaring at him, right eye glowing red in the shadow of your hood. "It’s none of your business," you snarled. Ban’s eyes widened. You walked ahead, wanting to put some distance between you two.

You heard him stop behind you and his breath hitch in his throat. "Elaine—?"

You sighed to yourself and turned to look at him and then the little girl who was looking at you two.

Ban shook his head and mumbled to himself. You tilted your head. Suddenly, you both heard the girl fall onto the ground.

You walked and knelt by her, Ban following. You checked her pulse and looked up at Ban.

"She’s breathing," you said. He placed her on his lap.

"Hey. Hey, missy," he said, gently patting her check. "You awake?" Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at the two of you.

"Get your hands off Ellen," a little boy shouted.

You both looked up to see a little dirty-blond boy holding a pitchfork.

"What are you doing to my sister?" He shouted.

"Hey, kid. If you’re her big brother, shouldn’t you be making sure she’s fed?" Ban asked.

"Ban," you whispered, giving him a look.

"Shut up," the little boy yelled, pointing the pitchfork at you. “Get away from my sister!”

"I said, are you keeping her fed?" Ban repeated. "I’ll take her away from you."

“Ban!” you whisper-yelled, almost shocked that he would say something like that to a kid.

The little boy had tears gather at the corners of his eyes. He screamed and ran towards Ban, pointing the pitchfork at him.

"Ban—" You started, eyes widening in realization. The pitchfork stabbed into Ban’s chest. The boy shook in fear. The girl ran to her brother.

"Brother! They were tending to me," she said, crying.

"B-But I thought..." The boy trailed off.

Ban grabbed the pitchfork and pulled it out from his chest. You crossed your arms over your chest, mentally chastising yourself for worrying.

"I-I’m sorry," The boy said, crying. "How can I stoke for my sin?" You raised a brow.

"Atone? Atone for what, kid?" Ban asked, getting up.

"But I—" The boy gasped, looking at Ban. "The wound," he exclaimed, seeing that Ban's chest was perfectly healed.

"Let me tell you something," Ban said, tilting his head. "Genuine sins can’t be atoned for." You let out a chuckle at that statement. Suddenly, you heard the clang of metal and Ban gasping.

You turned to see a spear stabbed through Ban’s chest.

"Ban," you screamed.

"That’s very observant of you," a voice said. A boy with orange hair and irises laid on the long spear that was impaled into Ban’s chest.

Ban spat out blood. The two siblings clinged to each other in fear. Your eyes widened in recognition.

"Hey, Ban," King said, smirking at him.

[jobrookekarev]

Little Turkey (Updated)

Summary: Jo and Alex celebrate Thanksgiving with everybody in Meredith’s backyard and Jo tries to induce labor. 

Chapter: 1/1

Fandom: Grey's Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson Karev.

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson Karev, Meredith Grey, Maggie Pierce, Jackson Avery, Amelia Shepherd, Atticus Lincoln, Zola Grey Shepherd, Ellis Shepherd, Derek Bailey Shepherd, and Carina DeLuca.

Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: thanksgiving, pregnancy, birth, babies, and tiny adorable turkey onesies. 

AN: New edits because I forgot to add the reason why Jo didn't realize she was in labor and her water breaking because I was in a rush to get this posted!! You think that someone who studied to be a doula would get it right but nope. LOL. So hopefully this makes more sense and seems more realistic.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

Jo pushed open the gate to Meredith’s backyard and was greeted with the sight of the socially distant Thanksgiving dinner in full swing. It might be the holidays, but there was a rise of COVID in the past few weeks and the governor had shut down the state. Despite how the group was constantly tested at work, none of them were willing to take any risks for an inside formal dinner. Which meant that tables were 6 feet apart, plates of food were already set out, and masks were required. Jo didn’t mind the outdoor activities, even with the November air as her pregnancy meant that she often ran hot. 

Amelia and Link were at one table with her godson, the three kids and Meredith were painting at one table. Maggie and Winston were off to the side, and Jackson, April, and Harriett were at the third table. The last table was for her and Alex, Meredith had already set out plates for them that were already filled with turkey, stuffing, casseroles, and Amelia’s pie.

“Hey, Aunt Jo,” Zola said, being the first one to greet her and waved at her with her paintbrush still in her hand. She wore a white and purple butterfly mask that matched her butterfly coat.

Everyone else followed Zola’s hello with waves as Jo walked up to the only empty table. Link bounded over like a puppy and hugged her as tightly as he could with her full belly between them. The two of them had been together for most of the pandemic with her and Alex helping them with Scout and Link and Amelia returning the favor to help with Jo’s pregnancy.

“Where’s Uncle Alex?” Zola asked holding up her turkey painting to show Jo. 

“That looks very cool Zola and he is on his way. He had a meeting so he's just running a little late,” Jo said as she put a hand on her belly and eased herself into the lawn chair and put her feet up on Alex's empty chair. “I see you all left me the good chair.” 

“Yeah well the rest of us didn’t want to hear you complain about it for the entire night,” Amelia said, sending Jo a wink.

“I did not complain last time!” Jo insisted, looking over at Link who just looked at her wide eyed.

Jo knew that Link’s mouth was open under his mask as he was trying to find something to say to her before retreating back over to Amelia. 

Ellis grabbed a plate of paint and dragged her cat chair to Jo. “Aunt Jo, can I paint your belly?” 

“What?”

“She wants to paint your baby belly,” Meredith clarified for her, handing Bailey a plate of food. “She saw a picture of someone doing it online and now all she talks about is painting your belly.”

Jo looked back down at Ellis who looked up at her with the biggest puppy eyes and Jo knew that she was pouting under her mask. Jo smiled and nodded, how could she refuse Ellis’ request. Jo put her feet down and grabbed a pillow, putting it behind her back before she pulled up her shirt and tucking it under her breasts. Ellis giggled and grabbed her brush to paint a streak across Jo's belly. Jo shivered at the cold paint, but the feeling of Ellis’s brush was oddly soft and Jo found herself relaxing back as Ellis painted. 

The party continued and the conversation flowed. It had been a while since everyone had gotten together outside the hospital, especially with the kids and it was nice to relax and enjoy the night. 

“Oh that’s so cute,” Jo said as Link handed her a small canvas of one of her godson’s baby bumpkins. “I can’t wait to do that with this baby.” 

Jo smiled as she stared over at Amelia and her godson. Back when she and Link were serving coffee, just trying to make it through college. They talked about how their kids would grow up together and be friends. They would be each other’s family. After Jo left, she didn’t think she’d ever see him again, but she was so glad he came to Grey-Sloan and gave her a second chance.

“Yeah, it does make a good keepsake for Christmas too,” Link said, smiling back over at Amelia and the baby as well.

“Nuh-uh,” Jo mumbled, shaking her head as she took a bit of the nacho that she had dumped hot sauce on. “I’m having this baby tonight.”

Immediately all eyes were on her. 

“You're in labor!” Meredith shouted standing up and pulling out her phone, no doubt to call Alex.

“You're in labor!” Maggie freaked out as she dropped Zola’s painting.

“The baby’s coming today!” Zola cheered her eyes sparkling as she raced over to them.

“The baby’s coming!” Ellis shrieked, putting both of her hands on Jo’s belly that was still wet with paint.

“Oh my god, Jo why didn’t you say anything?” Link said, dropping down to his knees and putting a hand on her shoulder.

“No, I’m not in Labor,” Jo shouted above the noise.

“Josephine Brooke Karev are you still trying to induce labor a week before your due date?”

“Uncle Alex!” All the kids screamed, so excited to see him, they all talked over each other as they showed him their paintings. 

“For heaven's sake Jo,” Link said, his eyes wide as he sat down on the grass leaning on the arm of her chair. “Between you and Amelia, the stress is gonna kill me.”

“Why would you want to have your baby today?” Meredith asked, moving her chair over to sit next across from Jo.

“Well, our anniversary is Halloween. I just thought I’d keep with the theme, that way we'd always remember and it’d be extra special,” Jo said, with a shrug as she felt the baby kick inside her as if they were agreeing. 

“Regardless of the date it will be special, trust me. You're never going to forget your baby's birthday because it's also your labor day,” Meredith said her eyes sparkling and Jo knew that she was smirking over at her.

“I know, but I just thought I'd be fun,” Jo said, putting a hand on her baby belly where Ellis hadn’t painted, feeling them kick again as she turned to see Alex talking to the kids. 

He was nodding along to everything they were telling him and acting like Bailey's messy painted turkey was the greatest piece of artwork he's ever seen. She loved seeing Alex with all the kids so much that she didn’t mind being second best to her husband. He was so good to them, always listening to them talk and going along with whatever they wanted. She couldn't wait to see him with their kid and she knew that they already had them wrapped around their finger. 

“I painted Aunt Jo’s belly!” Ellis said putting her paint covered hands on Alex’s shirt. 

“And now we match,” Alex said looking down at his nice button up shirt to see two small handprints.

Jo laughed as Alex looked down at the sight of his ruined shirt. Meredith got up and took Ellis inside to wash her hands and Alex sat down next to her. He pulled down his mask to greet her with a kiss and settled in. Jo grabbed another bite of her pineapple spicy nachos and Alex took a piece from her plate.

“Hey,” Jo said, pulling the plate away from him.

“Sorry,” Alex laughed before feeding her the chip. 

Jo thought that he would have long since learned not to get between a pregnant woman and her food, but apparently not. 

Alex’s eyes turned serious as he looked over at her. “How are you feeling?” 

“My heartburn is better than it was this morning, my braxton hicks haven't been as intense as they were yesterday, and I did a hepatectomy on a guy who almost burnt down his house trying to cook a turkey with Jackson,” Jo said in between bites of her nachos.

“Yeah I’m surprised I got here before you,” Jackson said as he held Harriett and offered her a bite of green beans. “You finished the resection before I was done debriding his wounds.”

“I scrubbed in on a surgical extraction with Dr. Bailey right after,” Jo said with a laugh, remembering the case. “Some guy shoved a corn husk up you know where.”

“A corn husk?” Meredith asked in disbelief. “I can’t believe I missed that!”

“You can scrub in with me next year after COVID is cured and you can come back to work.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Karev.”

“It sounds like you had a good day,” Alex said, leaving in to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

“I did.” 

Jo could see Alex smile under his mask as his eyes wrinkled and sparkled. Jo leaned in and pressed a masked kiss to his cheek. Alex chuckled, squeezed her shoulder as she leaned in and put her head on his shoulder. 

They watched the kids paint and ate too much of April's pumpkin pie and stayed long after the kids fell asleep as the alcohol came out for the adults. It was the first time they had all congregated outside of the hospital and no one was eager to leave. Her sober buddy, Amelia, came to sit next closer to her, and Jo cooed at her godson, gushing over his cute little baby cheeks even after he fell asleep. 

The cold night air set in and soon they were all bundling up in blankets, but no one wanted to head home first. Jo put the baby down inside and curled up against Alex as her braxton hicks started up again. She didn't mean to fall asleep but the next thing she knew Alex was shifting against her and pulling her onto her feet and putting one arm around her as he half carried her to the car, Jo mumbled goodbye to everyone. 

Jo fell asleep in the car and she didn't remember getting into bed, but the next thing she knew it’s 4 a.m. and she's waking up with a braxton hick. She rolled over in bed realizing that Alex changed her into pajamas. Jo’s not sure if it's because she was exhausted or what but, as soon as it passed she rolled over and fell asleep again. 

Somewhere around sunrise, just as the sun was shining into the windows, Jo got up with another braxton hick. She knew that moving helped and she had to pee anyway, but Jo only made it to the table behind the couch before she felt a trickle of water run down her leg. At first, she thought she had an accident, but the trickle of water just kept coming as Jo tried to clean herself up. Then she realized it was amniotic fluid. Her water broke. 

Jo turned around to wake up Alex, but before she could she doubled over in pain as her next contraction started. She knew that her contractions would increase in pain after her water broke that this was on a whole different level. 

Jo leaned against the table she tried to call out to Alex but she can’t speak. She was frozen in place until it passed. She knew that these weren't braxton hick, these were contractions, she was in labor. When she felt like she could move again Jo looked back at Alex, but she couldn't manage to call out to him. Instead, Jo got out her phone and pulled up her contacts, she blindly pressed Alex’s name and waited to hear his phone ring. Instead, she heard someone else answer her call.

“Hey Jo, what’s up” 

Meredith’s voice was music to her ears. Jo opened her eyes and shook her head as she looked down at the phone. Jo was so relieved to see her friend. Although she had originally planned to just call Alex, it seemed she had set up a video call with Meredith. Because of the restriction, Jo couldn't have anyone other than Alex with her when she gave birth. Despite her initial plan to have Meredith with her, they had agreed to have Meredith be there over video call to support her through it. In the midst of a contraction she could barely speak, but Meredith seemed to know exactly what was going on.

“Are you in labor?” 

Jo nodded, closing her eyes and swaying her hips, she wasn't sure why but somehow it seemed to help.

“How long have you been having contractions?” 

“I don't know,” Jo said, blowing out a breath as the contraction passed. “A few hours maybe.”

“What do you mean maybe?” Meredith asked, glaring at her. “When did the pain start?” 

“Before I went to bed last night I think.” 

“So you've been in labor for six hours, Jo how did you ignore this?” Meredith said as she rubbed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose

“I have a high pain tolerance, and I'm used to sleeping through the pain and I was really tired,” Jo said, the memories of when she used to fall asleep after Paul beat her were not once she liked to remember, but as a result, Jo often ignored her pain out of habit.

“Well, where's Alex? He should have been keeping an eye on you.”

“Alex he's …” Jo shook her head, and trailed off as she had another contraction.

“Do you need me to get Alex?”

Jo nodded, the contraction had passed but she was so exhausted and let Meredith help her.

“Okay, hang on Jo I'm going to call him from a second phone,” Meredith reassured her as Jo heard her stuff laying around on the other end of the phone. “Amelia gimme your phone Jo’s in labor.”

Jo chuckled as Meredith continued to harass Amelia for her phone. Ever since Meredith had recovered from COVID she had been working from home and harassing them all via phone call. Especially her as Jo continue their work on the mini-livers from their lab at the hospital. 

“Okay, I'm calling him now.” 

Jo looked back at Alex who was still sleeping peacefully in their bed. The blanket was pulled back on her side and his arm was laying over her pillow leaving the impression of an empty space where she had been. Alex had that evening morning scruff that she loved and his lips were parted as he snored. He was completely oblivious to how his world was going to change in a few hours. 

Alex’s phone rang, the sound bouncing around the apartment. He rolled over and reached for his nightstand, cursing as he looked for his phone. Another contraction distracted her from calling out to him, but she heard him silence his phone and roll over again.

“Jo, Meredith is calling you.”

“No, I'm calling you,” Meredith yelled at him through Jo's phone. “Your wife is in labor Karev, get the hell up.”

Jo looked over to see Alex sit up and stared at her. He blinked once and then twice before he scrambled to get up, getting tangled in the blankets and tripping several times before he made it over to her.

“You're in labor?”

“Yes,” Jo and Meredith yelled at the same time.

“We’re having a baby!” 

“Yes, we're having a baby!”

“Okay well let’s go,” Alex said and Jo could see it on his face as he went from paranoid dad to helpful husband. “Let’s have a baby.”

“Let’s have a baby.” Jo smiled as Alex kissed her before another contraction hit and she closed her eyes in pain. They were for sure having a baby today. Happy Thanksgiving to her.

“How far apart are the contractions?”

“Every four minutes,” Meredith answered for her.

“Has your water broken?” 

“Not that I can tell.” 

“Jo?” Alex asked looked down to check, but Jo shook her head.

“Okay, let's check how dilated you are, but regardless we're going to head to the hospital. I'll call Carina and tell her to have a room waiting for us.” Alex said as he put his arms around her waist and Jo heavily leaned in on him.

Alex helped her over to the bed and Jo laid down, sinking into the mattress. Another contraction hit and Jo closed her eyes taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. 

“That’s it Jo, deep breaths, you're doing so good,” Alex praised her as he held her hand, and mirrored her breaths.

Jo felt the tears collect in her eyes and Alex spoke, she was so thankful that he was there cheering her on. He had been so supportive through her pregnancy. He braided her hair and rubbed her back when she puked. He tied her shoes and helped her reach for things. He rubbed her back and her feet when they ached, and he talked to their baby when they kicked her ribs. When the contraction passed and Jo opened her eyes to see Alex smiling down at her. She sighed and relaxed as he leaned forward and kissed her.

“He is right, you're doing everything like you're supposed to, you're doing great Jo,” Meredith said, from where Jo had left her phone propped up on the table.

Jo returned their smiles and squeezed Alex’s hand. “I’m having a baby.”

“You are, and you're handling it like a champ,” Alex said, moving back and putting a hand on her knees, Jo saw his face shift from proud and supportive husband to concerned doctor. “Your contractions are pretty close together. Can I check and see how dilated you are now.”

Jo nodded and lifted up her hips as he pulled off her pajama pants. Jo put her feet up by her hips and let her knees fall apart. Alex waited for her to nod before he checked her cervix, despite how many times they had sex, he always waited for her consent. Alex quickly checked her and then smiled looking down at her.

“Jo, have you felt the need to push?”

“No, why?” she asked, confused as she pushed herself up on her elbows. He had pulled back his hand, but didn't give her back her pants.

“You’re about 9 cm dilated, but we should get to the hospital before you have this baby in the car,” Alex said as he patted her knee and got up. “I’m gonna grab your bag and stuff and put it in the car then come back for you.”

“Oh my god!” Jo shouted as she sat up and watched Alex run around their apartment.

“Hey it’s okay Jo, just take a deep breath,” Meredith said, Leaning into the phone so Jo could see her whole face.

Jo nodded and took a deep breath, knowing that panicking wouldn't get her anywhere, and put a hand on her belly. She couldn't feel her baby kick, only the contractions that seemed endlessly painful. After a few deep breaths, she held herself calm back down and had to open her eyes and look back at Meredith who greeted her with a nod.

“Wait Alex, give me Meredith,” Jo shouted as she heard him open the door.

Alex stopped everything and grabbed the phone before handing it to her and running off again. Jo just smiled as she watched him go, running around like a mad dad, panicked as she labor. After everything they had been through, he was still so excited and nervous for their baby.

Another contraction hit and Jo closed her eyes, tuning out everything as Meredith talked her through it and Alex ran around with the bags. Finally, he came back and helped her down the stairs, and into the car. 

Jo barely remembered the car ride to the hospital. In between her contraction, Meredith and Alex talked to her and tried to distract her. She was so exhausted and could barely think as Alex and Meredith prompted her to move and breathe when they got to the hospital. It sort of worked, but it was all just a blur as they got her up to a room.

“Hello Jo,” Carina said that she came into the room rubbing fresh hand sanitizer over her hands before she reached for a pair of gloves. “I wasn't expecting to see you so soon.”

“I need to push,” Jo shouted, already bearing down, this baby was coming now, regardless of whether anyone was ready for them or not.

“Now!” Alex shouted in disbelief. “Shit we should have been here hours ago.”

“She said now!” Meredith insisted, yelling through the phone.

“You don’t have to do that you know,” Alex said, as he crawled in behind her, rather than push on her back they had her upright and Jo sat on the end of the bed while Alex held her up and squeezed both of her hands. 

“Jo wants me to advocate for her, this is me advocating.”

“Okay Jo push on the next contraction,” Carina said, shutting them both up as she got ready to catch the baby in between Jo’s legs.

Jo closed her eyes and tried to breathe as another contraction hit and she pushed with every bit of energy she had left. It felt like an endless circle of pain and pushing, then a break, and then more pain and pushing. She was so exhausted and she couldn't imagine doing this for an endless amount of hours. 

“You're doing great Jo, just a little bit longer and they're gonna be here,” Alex whispered in her ear.

“He’s right Jo. Everything is perfect and your little bambino is going to be here very soon,” Carina said giving her a short nod. 

Jo pushed for what seemed like hours and then Carina was announcing she could see the head. Jo knew that she had to keep going and pushed again and suddenly her baby was out and Carina held them up for them to see. 

The second their baby cried, Jo's heart stopped as Carina held up this tiny little red baby screened in their ears. Jo pulled down her gown so they could do some skin to skin and Carina quickly placed them on Jo’s chest. Jo's arm instantly moved to cradle them and she leaned back against Alex as the tears filled her eyes. She and her baby's cries filled the room. 

“She's so beautiful,” Alex sobbed on her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around them both. 

“It's a girl,” Jo said in astonishment, she looked down to where the baby laid in her arms and their daughter looked up at them with big eyes as her cries quieted. 

“Alex do you want to cut the cord?”

Alex nodded and moved to cut the cord, taking the surgical scissors from the nurse. Meredith took a few pictures and Jo was glad she had asked her to beforehand because all she could focus on was the beautiful little girl in her arms.

Jo looked down at her beautiful, perfect daughter and moved to stroke her cheek. She hardly noticed the nurses cleaning her and taking their daughter’s Apgar scores. All she could think about was a perfect little baby in her arms. For her, falling in love was a gradual process, but Jo loved their baby from the moment she found out she was pregnant and she was so overwhelmed with love for her baby as she stared down at them.

Jo looked over at Alex as he moved out from behind her to stand next to her. As all the nurses attended to her and the baby. He looked so nervous as he stared down at her shifting his weight on his feet and stuffing his hands into his pockets. It was so unusual to see him so concerned and nervous. 

Jo looked down at their daughter, she’d had her for nine months and although it felt like she had only been holding her for a few minutes, Jo was sure that she was ready to watch Alex hold their baby for the first time. 

“Do you want to hold her?” Jo whispered, already moving the blanket that had been placed over both of them to loosely swaddle her and transferred their daughter into her chest.

Alex just nodded and took off his shirt so they could do skin to skin, then held out his arms for their daughter. Once she placed her in his arms, Alex slowly sank down in the chair next to her bed. He held her close to his chest before he seemed to remember how to hold a baby and cradled her in his arms as he relaxed back into the chair. She watched as Alex just gazed down at her with an expression of pure love. 

Jo could tell by the way that his eyes sparkled that he was smiling down at their daughter under his mask. Tears collected his eyes and a few escaped the corner of his eyes as he whispered to her. The baby opened her eyes and squirmed, crying out for a moment before Alex soothes her as he began to rock in the chair. The baby flailed her arms out and Alex reached out to hold one of her hands as her tiny hand wrapped around his big finger.

Jo finished pushing out the placenta and laid back onto the bed before Alex put their daughter back on her chest and put the blanket over both of them. Jo just stared down at her in amazement. She was so perfect, from her tiny little forehead to the thick tufts of dark hair. She stretched out her legs, kicking Jo before she curled back up into a tiny little ball and closed her eyes.

“She’s perfect,” Jo said to Alex, not taking her eyes off her daughter. “Even if her big head caused me a second degree tear.”

“Sorry about,” Alex said, sliding in to sit next to her.

“Well you and her big Karev heads are perfect and I can’t feel anything down there anyway,” Jo’s legs felt like mush and she couldn't tell how many stitches Carina was doing.

Alex wrapped an arm around her shoulders leaning in to kiss her cheek. Jo turned and tilted her head to give him a proper kiss. 

“You did so good Jo, I'm so proud of you and she is absolutely beautiful,” Meredith said with a smile as they all look down at the baby. “I’m gonna let you two enjoy your baby and I’ll send you the pictures I took in a few minutes.” 

“Thank you,” Jo said as she looked over at Meredith who smiled.

“It was my pleasure,” Meredith said, tilting her head as she looked down at the baby. “Besides if it wasn’t for me you would still be laboring in the loft and Alex would be fast asleep.”

“Har har,” Alex said as Jo laughed. 

“But you Jo Karev,” Meredith said turning a pointed finger at her. “You have to keep remembering to watch your braxton hicks and not sleep through your labor until your nine centimeters dilated!”

“Meredith is right Jo, your labor progressed very quickly without you realizing it,” Carina said, as she set Jo with a look. “Next time, I want to see you in here as soon as your braxton hicks are consistent for more than an hour. I'd rather send you away with false labor then put you or your baby at risk.

“Yeah, we can’t have the next one on the couch in our living room,” Alex added, kissing her forehead.

“I know I said I wanted two kids, but let's not talk about a second one until my vagina starts hurting from having the first one,” Jo said as she glared at him as Alex turned to look down at their baby girl.

“She needs a name,” Alex said, changing the subject as he trailed a finger across her little hand as she wiggled her fingers.

“Meredith does make a really good name,” Meredith sang, raising her eyebrows and giving them a look.

“We'll take it into consideration,” Jo said looking back at Alex. They had a list of names they were still arguing over, some of the names were new, but others were after friends and family.

Meredith ended the call and most of the nurses left, it was just them and Carina, who was finishing the last of Jo’s stitches. The baby fussed, turning her head and opening her mouth, signaling that she was hungry. Jo moved her down and Carina helped her and the baby get a good latch on her breast. Soon their baby was making happy little eating noises as her parents smiled down at her.

“She does need a name,” Alex whispered to her, setting his head on her shoulder and he looked down at their daughter as she nursed. 

“You know which one I like.”

“I know,” Alex sighed, looking away from her.

“You should call her,” Jo said, turning to look at him as he gazed off into space. “Call her and then decide, and if you still don't want the name. we can choose a different one.”

“Okay.” Alex nodded and kissed her shoulder as they turned their attention back to their baby girl.

After their daughter finished eating and Carina finished her stitches, Alex ran to grab her some food from the cafeteria. Jo chatted with Meredith again for a few minutes about the pictures before Alex came back and they ate. He put on a movie some kind of Christmas movie that Jo wasn't really interested in so she closed her eyes. She must have fallen asleep and slept for a few hours only to be woken up by Carina and the nurses checking on her. 

It’s still later in the early afternoon but the closed blinds and curtains made it seem like night and it was easy for her to close her eyes. She stared at the baby in Alex's arms before she fell asleep again and when Jo woke up and the baby was in the bassinet next to her bed. She reached out an arm to lay a hand on her chest feeling the baby breathing under her hand and fell back asleep. 

When Jo woke up again she heard Alex talking faintly on the phone again. The baby was not under her hand and for a moment Jo panicked, she looked around the room and she saw Alex holding the baby in a football hold, as he rocked back and forth with his back to her. Jo relaxed and closed her eyes as she listened to the baby gurgle and coo as Alex talked on the phone. 

“Yeah, thanks Mom, we can’t wait for you to see her,” Alex said as he walked back over and sat down next to her. Jo blinked and caught his eyes and he smiled at her. “Hang on Jo’s awake, let me give her the baby.”

Alex set the phone down and unswaddle the baby before setting her on Jo’s chest. The baby settled on Jo as she put a hand on her back tracing her spine and noting her clean skin. While she was asleep, Alex and the nurses must have bathed her and they put her in a plain hospital hat and onesie and Jo safely tucked those away for safekeeping. Jo reached over to the bag on the chair next to her and pulled out the little turkey onesie along with a dark orange hat to match. 

Jo sat the bed up and put the baby on her lap as she changed her clothes, the baby slept through the whole thing and Jo pulled her close to whisper to her daughter. She tried out the names they had on their list, including Meredith, and just as she expected, the name Jo wanted for her fit. 

Jo looked up at Alex as he finished the call with his mom and smiled at him as he put down his phone and came to sit down next to her. “She needs a name. We can't just call her baby forever.”

“I know,” Alex said, looking down at the baby as Jo shook her head. 

“Let's try them all out and see which one fits,” Jo said, she knew that Alex was still hesitant, but that he would know that the moment he heard it and connected the name to the sight of their daughter. 

“Okay, hello Stephanie,” Alex said looking down at their daughter before he shook his head. Jo chuckled, she knew Stephanie would be disappointed, like Meredith they had considered the name as they wanted her to be named after someone they loved, but it just didn't fit. “Okay, you do the next one.”

“Alright, hello Meredith or Edith for short,” Jo said to her, it was the name Alex wanted and Jo liked it too. Meredith meant so much to them and they had agreed to have it as her middle name regardless, but it wasn’t her first name.

“You're right, it doesn't fit,” Alex said as he sighed and leaned back into the chair.

“No,” Jo said looking down at the baby in her arms. She took Alex's hand and pulled it over to hold their daughter's hands that had wiggled out from the swaddle. “Her name is Helena, after your mom and Mrs. Schmidt.”

Alex smiled as he looked down at their daughter and rubbed the back of her hand. “Yeah, she's Helena.”

“Helena,” Jo said as their daughters fluttered open and she stared up at them.

Alex's phone lit up with a video call from Meredith. He looked over at Jo, they had agreed to the video call beforehand, and although Jo hadn't had any time to shower or even wash her face she knew none of them would care and nodded as he answered the call. They were greeted with the sight of their family. Meredith, Amelia, Lincoln, Maggie, Winston, Jackson, April, Ben, Bailey, Richard, all the kids, and even Levi and Helm joined the call. Everybody cooed and gushed over the baby and the kids talked about how excited they were.

“Have you two decided on a name yet?” Meredith asked as everybody went silent waiting for them to respond.

“Guys say hello to Helena Meredith Karev.”

[athina-blaine]

Martin goes and gets himself stabbed. It's inconvenient.

For @thesmallestzita.

Chapters: 1/1 [Complete]

Words: 1,774

Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Season 1, Pre-Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence

Martin tripped over a stray soda can and the pain in his side flared. Hissing through his teeth, he pressed his hand deeper over the wound, taking a moment to collect himself, before continuing to shamble down the rain slicked pavement.

He takes some initiative for once, and this is what happens. Typical. The others weren’t going to let him hear the end of this. Especially not Jon.

Martin hoped Jon never found out about this. He’d die of embarrassment, first. Martin was walking a tight rope after the disastrous Rentoul follow up, as it were. There’s no telling what Jon would do if he knew Martin had to go and get himself bloody stabbed, all the while following up a case that had already been closed.

He pulled his mind back to the task at hand; get to hospital. It was more difficult due to the fact that every lone piece of rubbish seemed determined to get under his feet and trip him up. It didn’t help that his legs moved like they were fast filling with lead, heavy and sluggish.

It’s amazing, sometimes, the things you take for granted. Martin walked every day. He was pretty good at it, he thought. But, now, it took everything he had just to put one foot in front of the other.

The pavement swam before his eyes, the neon lights bouncing off rain puddles in a hypnotic display. It made him queasy. He had to lean against a brick wall. Just a short break, to catch his breath. Not for long.

This was harder than he’d thought it would be. His GPS said the hospital had only been a twenty-minute walk, but he feels as if he’d been going and going for hours.

God, he was such a moron. What had he been thinking? Skulking around the site of paranormal nonsense with no backup and no one knowing where he was. He had just wanted to know more about the fate of Carlos Vittery, and, maybe, uncover something that was missed the first time. Something that would impress Jon.

He hadn’t known someone was there. He wouldn’t have gone in if he had known that.

The woman had dark hair, filthy and caked with a thick, flaky secretion and when she had turned, she had … holes, in her face. And the bugs …

So distracted by the silvery worms, he hadn’t had time to react when the woman lunged with a rusty razor, slicing clean through just under his ribs.

“It’s okay,” she had whispered. “You don’t want to be here for what comes next, anyway.”

Flooded with adrenaline, Martin had managed to sprint out of the basement, away from the woman and her burrowing worms without any further harm. It had to have been Jane Prentiss. Nothing else made sense. And nothing good could possibly come out of whatever was coming next.

He grimaced, pressing his hand into his side, slick with blood.

He wasn’t going to make it.

He helplessly slid down the wall. No. No, this was bad. He can’t lie down. If he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to get back up.

Shit. Shit.

First things first, he had to tell someone about Prentiss. Someone had to know that she was planning something.

Pulling out his phone, he struggled to bring up his most recent conversations, fingers smearing blood onto the screen. Sasha. Sasha would know what to do.

He raised the phone to his ear, the streetlights swimming in and out of focus.

“Hello?”

Jon.

Martin’s eyes slid shut. Of course. His last text had been to Jon about the Popham follow up. Jon had said he had already finished recording the case and scolded Martin for being so late with his report. Tim and Sasha had had everything under control, anyway. Find someone else to bother.

He hadn't written that last part. Not out loud, anyway.

Through the phone, there was a familiar, irritated sigh and Martin blinked back to reality.

“I really hope this is important, Martin, I was rather in the middle of something.”

Martin swallowed, torn between, Oh, nothing, sorry to bother you, good night and, I’m dying and I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t tell you I love you so, so much.

The phone trembled in his hand and he gripped it as tightly as he could. If he dropped it, he wouldn’t have the strength to pick it back up again. Was he really going to bleed out here? In this dingy alley, in the middle of the night, in the rain? That would be … really bad …

“For God’s sake, Martin, I don’t have time for this.”

“S-sorry …” Have to tell him. Needs to know. “Jane …”

“Martin?” The bite in his voice fell away. “What’s happening? You sound—”

“Jane Prentiss …”

There was a pause, and then a sudden, violent clattering. “Where are you?”

“Um … I was just … Carlos Vittery …”

“Don’t move, I’m on my way. Stay on the phone. Martin? Martin?”

Ah. Now he’s went and gotten Jon all worked up.

“Sorry … tried to be useful …” He chuckled and it hurt. “Guess I should … know better by now …”

“Martin!”

At least he got to listen to Jon saying his name, like he was really worried about him or something. There were worse ways to go.

The phone slipped from his hand and everything fell away.

 Martin awoke, slowly, first to the sound of a mechanical beeping, and then, hurried footsteps and outraged shouts. The door swung open and his drowsy eyes slid over to the figures that stormed in. His vision was still blurry, and he couldn’t make out their faces, but he recognized one voice.

“—know the policies and if you think you have any right to stop me—”

An unfamiliar woman came in behind him, haggard and face lined with stress.

“Do you know this man, sir?” she said to Martin.

Martin blinked sleepily, eyes moving back to Jon. His hair was wilder and more unkempt than he’d ever seen it.

“Yeah," he said. "He’s my, uh … boss?”

Jon turned to the woman with a victorious smirk, but the woman was already backing out of the room.

“Just press the assist button if he’s bothering you,” she said, closing the door with a sharp click. Jon glared at the door, grumbling irritably under his breath. Martin opened his mouth, but a wave of nausea swept over him and his question was lost in a groan.

Jon snapped towards him, his irritation flipping to stark concern. Taking a deep breath, Martin tried again.

“Where am I?” he asked, faintly. “How did I get here?”

“Whittington Hospital. According to the nurse, a pedestrian saw you and called the paramedics.” Jon took a seat in the spare chair by his bedside, dropping his satchel by his side. His expression could have been cut from steel. “You are incredibly lucky.”

Martin squeezed his eyes closed. He certainly didn’t feel very lucky. Not with Jon looking so upset. He was still wearing the same soft, grey jumper from this morning, which means he had come here straight from the Institute, and for some reason that distressed Martin even more.

“How did you know where I was?”

“Obviously, the Carlos Vittery you mentioned was the same from case #0150409 and I figured you must have been near the Archway area. I’ve been trying all the hospitals nearby asking for a man of your description.”

What little energy Martin had drained out of him, and his head sank into the pillow.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, and I suppose you’d rather have me twiddling my thumbs in the archives while you were dying?”

“Sorry ...”

Jon pressed his lips together and he looked to the side. The severity of his expression gentled, and he turned back to Martin, his eyes softening.

“Are you alright?”

Martin’s heart fluttered.

“Well,” he managed. “Not dead. That’s a good start.”

Jon nodded, and then hoisted up his satchel.

“You were in surgery for a while, so I went out and bought some food, considering the stuff in hospital is so abysmal.”

“Oh. That’s … nice of you.” Also, wildly unexpected, but Martin wasn't saying anything. Hospital food was, in fact, not the greatest.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so …” Jon dumped a truly outrageous amount of granola bars, yoghurt, and crisps onto the end table. Some spilled over and he quickly reached down to scoop them up. “Yeah.”

A chuckle worked its way through Martin’s chest. It hurt, a little, but the pain was soothed by the sight of Jon juggling Hot Flamin’ Cheetos.

“Slight overkill, don’t you think?”

Jon snapped open a bag of cheese puffs. “Good to know my efforts are appreciated.”

“They are! They are.” With a muffled grunt, Martin reached over and plucked up a bottle of orange juice. “See? Look how appreciative I’m being.”

Jon hummed, flicking a cheesy puffball into his mouth. They both sat in silence, Martin sipping his drink and Jon munching through his crisps.

It must have been the longest time the two of them had ever been alone together. Though they were both quiet, it was a comfortable sort of silence. Just two people existing alongside each other. Reassured by their presence.

Then, Jon took a deep breath.

“I had no idea what to make of your call,” he said, folding the plastic bag into a small square. “I thought you were … You …”

Martin bit his lip, not wanting anything to slip out. Swallowing, Jon lowered his head.

“You had me worried.” Finally, Jon looked back up at him. His mouth was his usual grim, disappointed line, but his eyes shone with dark emotion. “Please don’t do that again.”

Jon had been really upset, hadn't he? Martin didn’t know how to feel about that. Embarrassed, certainly. Guilty, for putting Jon through such an unnecessary ordeal. But also … nice.

He traced the lip of his empty orange juice bottle.

Yeah. He felt nice.

“Well, I don't really fancy dying, so I guess I'll do my best.”

A tiny smile quirked the corner Jon’s lips. Martin had only a moment to savour it, though, as it quickly slipped away as he pulled a pen and paper out of his satchel, and Martin mourned its loss. Jon opened his notebook.

“What happened at Carlos Vittery’s flat? You said you encountered Jane Prentiss, correct?”

Yes. Back to business.

Straightening up, Martin cleared his throat.

“Right. So, something about his case didn’t sit right with me, and I decided to go back and investigate some more. You know, observe my due diligence, and all that …”

[cavalierious-whim]

Parlay (FE3H)

FE3h | Sylvix | High-Seas AU | Teen | Complete

This time Sylvain's more than doubled his money, he's doubled his life.

####

A/N: Another one from last year! CW for a vague depiction of stitching up a wound. It's very minor. Read here on AO3 for better quality!

####

“You don’t seem the type to dabble with our kind of lot.”

Sylvain turns to the voice, meeting the youthful face of the captain. He’s younger than expected, but severe-looking with a narrow and angular face and circles cut so deep underneath his eyes that Sylvain wonders exactly what it was that put them there.

“Yeah,” says Sylvain, a signature smirk spreading wide across his face, channeling his well-practiced façade, “Pi--”

“Smugglers,” says the captain, interrupting.

“Smugglers,” repeats Sylvain. He’s not sure why the man cares because everyone already knows what they actually are. Pirates. A dubious lot known for bloodshed and riots, and rum and indulgence. Looking around the ship though, it looks more like a tightly run and well-oiled machine, than a drunken schooner.

The captain watches him for a long moment, midnight hair ruffling in the soft sea breeze. He looks mean, but not mean enough to be in this line of work. Then again, Sylvain’s new to all of this, so it’s not like he knows what to expect.

He’s only heard the wild stories of Felix the Blood Red and his rag-tag group of misfits.

“You’re a little green,” says Felix.

“Oh, I’m used to the sea--”

“I didn’t mean ill.” Felix has his arms crossed over his chest as he watches Sylvain with a critical eye. “I meant new to smuggling.” Nothing seems to escape the man. Sylvain will have to tread lightly.

“Well, I used to run my goods legitimately,” says Sylvain, rubbing at his neck. “My father trusted me to overlook his operations.”

“Should he have?” asks Felix.

“Should he have what?” asks Sylvain.

“Trusted you,” says Felix, impatience creeping into his tone.

“Yes,” says Sylvain. Then he pauses. “At least, until he dealt with the kinds of goods that I don’t like.”

“Drugs?” asks Felix.

“Worse,” says Sylvain. He doesn’t need to elaborate for the both of them to glean his meaning. They both fall silent, Felix’s mouth twitching with slight annoyance and Sylvain feels a little bit guilty. “Oh don’t give me that look, I haven’t brought anything illegal aboard. You can check the crates.”

“Then why hire us?” asks Felix, nosier than Sylvain would like. But where he in his position, Sylvain might be just as nosey, if not more. Mostly because Felix is a cunning and interesting man at first glance. And he bets that the mystery only gets better the more he learns.

“I’m not taking them to where they are supposed to go,” Sylvain says simply. “My father wants things shipped south to the Empire.”

“We’re going north to Sreng,” Felix deadpans.

“Might I remind you that I am Sylvain Gautier.” The Gautier family, also known as the ginger scourge of the north, also known as super doesn’t trade with the Srengese. For reasons.

Felix looks at him differently now that he knows Sylvain’s funneling his father’s goods to the people that his family has all but destroyed over the centuries, lips tugged into a small little frown. And for a moment, Sylvain is worried that Felix will call off the job and dump his shipment into the sea. Sylvain would. He’s inviting more trouble than his coin is probably worth, and that’s not just him talking about his mission.

But then Felix drops his arms and sighs. “It’s none of my business,” says Felix.

“Felix--”

“That’s Captain to you,” Felix cuts in, leveling Sylvain with a solid glare. Then he turns away without another word. Sylvain watches him retreat with a rare smile, truly interested in the man.

Captain, it is.

#

It becomes Felix’s business months later after a high seas firefight with one of Sylvain’s father’s ships. It’s the third run that they’ve done together after the first proved to be successful.

“Shit,” Sylvain groans, arching up from the cot he’s spread out on. Mercedes hushes him but doesn’t let up, pressing the disinfectant against him with more force. “Merce, that burns--”

“Surely not as bad as my ship does,” says Felix from the doorway.

Sylvain’s mouth dries up at the sight of him because Felix is beautiful when he’s on edge and wired red-hot, face smudged with sweat and soot. He scowls at the sight of Sylvain, softens slightly at the sight of Mercedes, and then acerbically asks for the room to be cleared. His crew does as he asks, leaving the two of them alone.

“For the record,” starts Sylvain, “I thought it’d take longer for him to come after his shit.”

“After you, you mean,” says Felix.

“I meant what I said,” says Sylvain. A pregnant silence stretches between them before Felix lets out an annoyed grunt, crossing the room and dropping into the chair beside where Sylvain’s laying. He jerks Sylvain’s shirt up with none of the tenderness that Mercedes is known for and Sylvain hisses at the touch.

“You’ll live,” says Felix once he gets a good look.

“So I’ll make it?” says Sylvain in jest.

“Unfortunately,” says Felix with a little bite to his tone. But then his tone softens a little. “As long as it’s stitched up right and you don’t pull at it.”

“You told Merce to leave.”

“She taught me how to sew,” says Felix, pulling open her medical kit.

“The holes in your clothes!” Sylvain’s seen Felix mend clothes on slow afternoons, laying out below the noon sun and enjoying the ocean breeze. It’s a nice sight, one that he’s come to like, even if it has to be observed from afar. Felix is so rarely relaxed and never so much around him.

“The concept is the same,” says Felix. Then he sighs. “Look, I know how to stitch up a wound. I’ve done it plenty.”

The War, Sylvain assumes then, where Faerghus lost their King to the Empire and the nobility left sold their souls to the enemy for a small chance at survival. Gautier’s done relatively well in the aftermath and reconstruction because brownnosing is what his father is best at. Felix had seemed more like a soldier than a pirate, something Sylvain noticed after just a week on board.

Sylvain doesn’t ask for an explanation and Felix doesn’t give one. Instead, he threads a needle with thick, coarse thread. He disinfects the gash in Sylvain’s side once more for good measure and then jabs the needle through his skin with little ceremony.

“Warn a man!” Sylvain shouts, trying his best to not jerk.

Felix’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “First time getting stitches, then.”

“No,” says Sylvain, but then a small whine bubbles up through his lips. “Yes.”

Sylvain’s seen battle like anyone else in his station, but as the former heir to the Gautier fortune, it’d been a figurehead title more than anything. He’d spent most of his wartime in tents on the backlines, moving figures around, and wooing bedmates to just feel a little bit of something in his pathetic misery.

“My ship will be fine,” says Felix, tugging at the gash to properly close it. “There’s more damage to the sails, but nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Sylvain is quiet for a moment. “I really am sorry.”

Felix is quiet for a moment too, and then he says, “It’s the job. Sometimes it goes well, sometimes it doesn’t. We’ve pulled through worse.”

“My only goal is to get food and clothing to the people who need it,” says Sylvain.

“I know. It’s the only reason that I haven’t thrown you overboard yet.” Felix pulls the thread tight and knots it, before cutting the excess. “For the record, we sunk their ship.”

“Good riddance,” says Sylvain.

Felix watches him as he wipes his hands off on a rag. “You hate him. Your father, I mean.”

“Hate’s a strong word.” But when he meets Felix’s gaze, Sylvain’s eyes are a testy sea storm, and he’s practically frothing at the mouth in barely contained rage. “Okay, hate’s not a strong enough word.”

“I understand,” says Felix in a rare moment of personal expression. He runs his fingers over Sylvain’s ribs under the pretense of checking the wound one last time, but to Sylvain, it feels like an entirely different sort of touch. Especially because it lingers for just a little bit too long to be merely friendly.

“Captain,” starts Sylvain, reaching out to grasp at his hand. Felix doesn’t pull away, allowing the touch.

“Felix,” says Felix. “You can-- Look, Felix is fine.”

“It’s fine,” murmurs Sylvain, his free hand snaking up to brush Felix’s sweaty bangs back. “Are you sure that my highly moral do-gooding is the only reason you haven’t thrown me overboard?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” says Felix, but it lacks bite as he leans into the touch.

“I’m glad I won’t die,” says Sylvain, “and I’m glad we’ll do more runs together.” A pause. “We will continue our business, right?”

“Fool,” says Felix.

“Your fool?” asks Sylvain hopefully.

“You’re pushing your luck.”

“Is it working?”

They look at each other for a moment before Felix swoops down, pressing a kiss against Sylvain’s lips. It’s a sweet thing, far sweeter than Sylvain expects Felix to be. It’s all softness, lacking his carefully honed sharp edges, warm and kind, and genuine.

“So it worked,” says Sylvain against his lips, unable to stop himself from slipping into his teasing mask. Felix pulls away, a soft scowl on his lips. He lets go and stands. “I was joking,” says Sylvain. “Joking!”

“I can still make you walk the plank,” says Felix coolly.

“But you won’t,” says Sylvain.

There’s a beat and then Felix smiles actually smiles, and it’s weirdly radiant and Sylvain never wants to stop seeing it. “No, I won’t,” says Felix quietly. “But I can make you suffer in the meantime.” Then he turns to leave the small room.

“Come back,” says Sylvain as pathetically as he can. “I’m sorry!”

But then he hears the soft murmurs of the crew outside and then a short laugh that is distinctly Felix’s. Sylvain smiles. He’s injured, they’ve lost their sails and his father has put a number on his head. But Sylvain does good; he funnels his father’s goods to the people who actually need them.

And he’s got Felix. He doesn’t really know how or why, but he’s somehow managed, and he has no intention of ever letting go. Sylvain’s placed a lot of bets in his life, but rarely pan out the way that he wants them too. But this time? He’s more than doubled his money, he’s doubled his entire life.

So when Sylvain smiles it’s the first time in a long time that it actually means something.

[writersrealmbts]

Lean On Me - Taehyung

Description: Taehyung x reader x ?? Taehyung x reader. Zombie apocalypse au. Feat. Seokjin

What about you?

Warnings: Various?

Posted: 04/18/2020

Tags: Taehyung, Zombie AU, Zombie Apocalypse

Angst and fluff:  3,203 words

A/N: Ooh, look what I pulled out of the woodwork. Happy Day 2 of fic dump. Even though it looks like only twelve people read what I posted yesterday. Yay.

You shrieked and swung at the zombie, who stepped back—backing all the way to wall, head tilting and watching you with dead eyes.

You stared back, breath heaving after having run and fought for the past …who knows how long. What was wrong with this one?

Bad memories of that Will Smith movie started playing in your head of the intelligent zombie things and you started back away from the zombie, who just watched you blankly.

Then another person came in, almost running into you, yelling and quickly falling to the floor to avoid you in case you were a zombie as you screamed back.

You were both lucky that Zombies weren’t attracted to sounds as much as they were movement.

Which reminded you—

You hurriedly pointed your sword at the zombie again.

“Oh!” The man said something in another language, his voice full of relief…as he addressed the zombie.

The zombie smiled a bit, swaying from side to side.

The man checked the zombie over, rambling on and on while the zombie held still with a pouty look.

You backed up to the wall, absolutely petrified. What kind of person could that be, to befriend a zombie? Was he a zombie? Were you about to die a horrible death after surviving this long?

The man patted the zombie on the head and then carefully placed a cute hat on the zombie’s head.

“Cutie,” He said, then turned to you and grinned. “Hello!”

Your gaze flicked between the two, still ready to swing at whoever came toward you first—obviously more concerned by the zombie than the man—but still.

“Oh, uh, this…is my friend,” He said carefully, his accent thick. “You want to be friend?”

Oh great, so now you had to figure out what answer wouldn’t get you killed.

“What?” You said, mostly to buy yourself some time.

“You want be our friend?” He asked again, patiently, smiling a little at you. “We go to safe place.”

Safe place…he must have been referring to the base. They were taking people in who were clear of the virus. You’d been working your way there as well, running only at night to avoid being detected by the zombies.

“You…come with us? Work together?” His voice pitched slightly higher, but still somewhat deep. He glanced back at the Zombie, who was still swaying back and forth with something similar to a smile.

The man had big, innocent eyes, and that older-sister part of you wanted to just tuck him into bed or feed him, while the not-sister part of you took in how…attractive he was. It reminded you how long it had been since you had seen another person. Been with another person.

“He…won’t hurt you, he’s my friend.” He continued after a moment.

You shifted, swallowing as you tried to think about it all logically. “How do you know he won’t hurt you?”

He blinked, looking a little surprised, then looked back at the zombie and shrugged. He hemmed and hawed as he tried to come up with the words. Finally he just shrugged and repeated, “My friend.”

And for some insane reason, or perhaps because of exhaustion…you believed him.

You dropped to the floor, too tired to stand anymore as the last of the adrenaline left your system and let your head drop into your hands.

He made a surprised sound and there was a grunt from the zombie, but then he was patting your head. “You okay?”

You nodded, choking up because you were exhausted. And an exhausted you was an emotional you and next thing you knew you were sobbing into his shoulder as he held you tightly.

Then you were waking up somewhere else. A house, that was carefully barricaded. Light was peeking through, either dawn or dusk, you weren’t certain. You were lying on a bed that was surprisingly clean, and the blankets covering you were exceptionally clean as well.

Your sword and backpack were sitting in the chair beside you, with some folded fabric and a note.

You got up, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before looking around again, noticing a bottle of water which you gratefully took and drank—surprised at how cold it was—then picked up the note.

“Be back, here are clean clothes—Tae”

You changed after using some of the water to clean up a little bit, then made the bed and checked your bag to ensure that he didn’t take any of your things.

Then you ventured out of the room, carefully peering into the next room and listening for any sort of problems.

The door to the house flung open and he came in with an armful of supplies, humming happily.

The zombie following him dragging something as well with a grumpy look.

“Oh! Hello!” He said as he saw you, grinning brightly. “Brought food.”

You edged out, still watching the zombie, realizing it was pulling a wagon that had some crates on it.

He was also dressed like a gardener today, a big hat and gloves on, as well as a pair of overalls.

You glanced at the man, then at the zombie again. “Do you dress him or does he do it on his own?”

Tae looked at you with big eyes, looking lost. “Uh, my…English…not very good.”

You winced. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry,” He said carefully. “Should have learned. Didn’t. Speak slow.”

You nodded, then gestured to the zombie, hand flicking up and down. “Do you dress him?” You asked more slowly.

The zombie’s head tilted, watching both of you.

Tae processed what you said, sorting the supplies he had carried in, but it didn’t seem to be sinking in.

“His fashion,” You said, hoping that would help.

His eyes lit up. “Ah! Fashion! Yes, me. I…fashion him.” He went over and messed with the brim of the hat, looking so softly at the zombie.

“Did you…know him? Before?” You asked, edging over to the counter to look over the supplies.

Tae picked up the crate from the wagon and nodded. “Seokjinnie-hyung.” His eyes were sadder now, his smile gone. “Brother.”

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t really see any sort of resemblance, but if he said it was his brother, then who were you to argue?

“Well, not brother, but brother,” He frowned. “Friend-brother.”

You nodded slowly. “Friend that’s like a brother.”

He nodded, pouting a little. “But…he…different.”

“No kidding,” you muttered, studying him. It wasn’t normal for zombies to be so complacent. Helpful.

Emotional.

The zombie’s eyes were shifted down, and it looked like he was teary-eyed. Scared.

Tae followed your gaze, then hurried over, taking a cloth and carefully wiping the tears. He started talking in a soothing tone in Korean, caressing the zombie’s face with the cloth. “He…remember.”

You blinked, trying to piece together what he meant from those words. “He remembers…getting turned? Or life before?”

Tae nodded. “Yes.”

You pitied the zombie man. It was obvious he hadn’t fully been turned into a zombie, but last you’d heard there was no cure.

You also pitied the man, who still looked so lovingly at the zombie-man, because if they did reach the safe place, his friend would not be allowed in.

“Our friends and family…waiting.” Taehyung took the hat off of the slightly taller zombie-man, fixing an indentation before putting it carefully back on. “We carefully go.”

You nodded, then helped him sort through the supplies and make a meal—which he seemed most excited about.

The zombie-man smelled it and Taehyung had him taste some of the food, but ultimately left the food to the two of you.

And maybe you were crazy, but you trusted this strange man and his zombie-man friend.

————

“We’re dead,” You hissed, swinging at the nearest zombie.

Taehyung groaned, trying to get up, but his wound looked bad. The only comfort was that he wouldn’t turn into a zombie on you.

You swung again at one that tried to move forward. “You need to get up.”

Taehyung grabbed onto your belt, using it to pull himself up to his knees at least. “Sorry.”

“Apologize once we’re safe,” You countered, laughing humorlessly and shoving another zombie away. “Get your arms around my shoulders.”

“Heavy.”

“You’re not too heavy, dammit,” You snapped. “And you’ll be helping me move you. Arm. Shoulders. Hurry.”

He gave a pained groan and heaved himself so he was leaning on your shoulders. “Seokjinnie-hyung?”

“I don’t know,” You grunted, “I don’t know where he is.”

Seokjin had wandered off a while ago—a tendency of his—but hadn’t shown up with his usual bounty. He had a knack for finding food and luxury items, and you guys had loaded the wagon with supplies that you and Taehyung had agreed would be welcomed in the safe-zone.

Normally, he would also warn you two about other zombies and lead you away.

You started slashing your way through the zombies, trying to move toward that safe-haven. It was so close that you could see the lights, and make out people moving—watching the situation and waiting to see what it actually was, and whether they would need to intervene. They probably couldn’t tell that there were humans out there. That the zombies were probably attacking an animal.

Tae let out an pained cry as he accidentally aggravated his wound.

They surged forward, but froze just inches away at a different sound.

Seokjin shoved them aside, clearing the way and growling something that made them start meandering away. He watched until they were all gone, then ambled over to the two of you. He was wearing his gloves, and the scarf, and he carefully picked Taehyung up, grunting.

You sighed, relief flooding your limbs. “Seokjin.”

He looked at you and just nodded.

You nodded in return and started leading the way. “It’s going to be a tough sell. You might end up as an experiment.”

He grunted.

“I’ll go ahead, tell them about both of you.”

“Not safe,” Tae whimpered.

“I’ll take the risk if it saves you two,” You said, starting to run toward the place.

Guards met you a few feet away.

“Please, he was hurt but he’s not infected. Our friend is bringing him now, but you need to understand that this one isn’t like the others and he might help us figure out how to cure this!” You rambled, gripping two of their arms.

“What do you mean?”

“He got turned but he’s been protecting us this whole time, he chases zombies away, he cries and he smiles and he listens. He’s not a normal zombie! Every human we’ve come across he’s been kind too, so please, please don’t destroy him,” You begged, worrying you might never see Taehyung’s boxy smile again. You loved that smile. It was on your list of favorite things. “He still has his mind.”

“We…can’t risk infecting the populous that found refuge here.”

“Then don’t, but there has to be a space where he could go where he wouldn’t risk anyone. I can lead him there without him ever touching any of them. He’s got his skin completely covered, he does it all the time so that he won’t risk infecting us.” You looked between all of them. “Tell me you think I’m lying.”

“All three have to go into quarantine until we’re certian they don’t have it, anyway,” One of them said, intonation suggesting that he was inclined to agree with you.

The one that was in charge slowly nodded. “You’ll vouch for him.”

“I swear on my life,” You said resolutely. “I’m alive because of him, so I will repay that with my life. Please.”

“You have to lead him through to his quarantine chamber,” In-Charge said, tone firm. “Which one is it?”

“He’s carrying my friend, who isn’t infected. The shelter we were in collapsed and hurt his left side.”

Seokjin kept his head down, but carried Taehyung up to the men and stood there silently.

“Damn, he’ll have to carry the injured one through. We can’t risk the infection.”

You nodded. “Just show us where to go. Seokjin, you have to follow me exactly, okay?”

He nodded.

One of the guards swore under his breath, but led the way into the safety of the shelter.

You directed Seokjin, through laying Taehyung on his own bed in an isolation chamber, to stepping into his own isolation chamber.

He looked up at you after going in.

“We’ll talk as soon as my isolation period is up, okay?” You told him softly. “I’ll tell you how Taehyung is, and maybe I’ll find out about your family and friends.”

He nodded and took the book you offered from your bag. Sitting down and carefully opening the book to where he left off.

You smiled and set the reading glasses down for when he realized he needed them in a minute or two, then backed away, led to your own chamber.

Protocol called for a week of isolation with blood tests, but after four days they were mostly just making sure you were completely healthy before rejoining the population. They let you check the database of who was here, and given the information Taehyung had given you, you managed to send a notification to the network of people who were waiting for Taehyung, but held off on Seokjin since there were far to many that were looking for “a Kim Seokjin” and without more information. You’d find them once you could talk with Taehyung and help him find everyone.

As it was, your isolation finished relatively quickly with your distractions—trying to find any of your own family and friends as well as theirs.

But you hurried to check on Taehyung all the same.

He grinned. “Hello! I missed you!”

You smiled back and sat on the edge of his bed. “Heard you’re stuck here.”

He nodded, pointing to his side with an exaggerated pout. “Seokjinnie-hyung?”

“I’m going there next. I managed to contact your family and some of the friends that were looking for you. Do you understand?”

He nodded slowly, smile softer now. Gentler. “My family.”

“I heard that some of your friends were coming today,” You whispered softly, glancing over at the nurses. “Maybe with their help we can wheel you over to Seokjin for a visit.”

He grinned and took your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You smirked, using your other hand to smooth his hair from his forehead. “Silly.”

“Pretty,” He replied, his normal response.

The tension melted from your shoulders as you sat with him, all of the fear from before finally leaving you.

“You stay as my family?”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose, earning another grin. “Try to stop me.”

Then his gaze slid past you and the smile faded to a look of awestruck happiness. “Jiminie.”

“TaeTae!” The man ran in, just barely stopping himself from throwing himself onto the bed, instead carefully crawling on to hug Taehyung.

You had moved out of the way, watching as the other four men hurried into the room to surround their friend.

Taehyung was talking so happily, crying into the shoulder of whichever man was closest.

You left him to it, going to check on Seokjin.

There was a researcher there, observing him as you came over.

She glanced at you and smiled. “He’s incredible. He reads, if we offer him food, he eats. He’s hardly like the zombies at all.”

“Except for the pallor, I would agree,” You replied, tapping on the glass.

He looked over with a bored expression, but it quickly blossomed into a smile.

You were fairly certain he looked more human than he had before. “Hi. Told you I’d be back.”

He nodded, sort of scooting closer, but still staying away from the glass.

“Are they treating you well?” You asked, looking over the door mechanism, then glancing at the workers. The researcher was quickly taking note of his behaviors around you while looking excited and astonished.

He grunted happily.

You smiled and then opened the door, causing panic, but you ignored them and went into the cell, sitting on the floor in front of him. “Taehyung is doing well. He’s healing well.” You told him, as if they weren’t still panicking.

He was shaking like he was laughing, eyes flicking between you and the people.

So much more human than before, but still somewhat zombie-like.

“His friends are here, I had trouble finding your friends and family though. I didn’t have enough details about you. Sorry.” You sighed and looked at your hands, playing with the sleeve of the shirt they had given you.

You could see him lean forward, and you closed your eyes as he carefully pet your hair with a comforting hum. Then an inquisitive one.

You kept your eyes closed for a moment. “I didn’t think…I wasn’t expecting to find my family here. But maybe some friends. I mean, Possibly some cousins. But….none so far. I’ll keep looking, they might not have arrived yet and then I’ll be here for them.”

He kept petting your hair. “P’ity,” He managed.

You froze for a moment. It was the closest thing to a word he’d ever uttered.

He kept petting you. “P’ity.”

“I’m pretty?” You asked for clarification, finally opening your eyes and meeting his gaze. “Nah, Seokjin is pretty.”

He laughed again, a slight squeak as his chest and shoulders bounced.

“It is hyung,” someone said from behind the glass. “Seokjin-hyung!”

Seokjin looked beyond you, hand still resting on your hair, and his smile got even softer. He kept petting your hair after a moment, still smiling and looking over at the boys that had brought Taehyung over.

Everyone was watching you, looking like they were holding their breath.

Taehyung knocked. “Hey, hyung, I told you that she’s mine!”

You sputtered.

Seokjin squeaked again.

“Don’t laugh! I’m serious!” Taehyung protested, sulky and insistent.

“He’s cute when he’s dramatic in English,” You whispered to Seokjin.

He laughed more.

“Wha! What’d you say?” Taehyung asked.

You just laughed, and leaned your elbow on your knee, watching the boys try to keep Taehyung in the wheelchair. “Tae!”

He fell still, looking over at you.

“I said that I was glad that the two of you found me. Also, I think Seokjin’s building an immunity to the virus.” You turned back to Seokjin, looking over his face. “Look at him.”

That sparked a frenzy from the researchers while Taehyung looked over Seokjin with a huge, boxy grin. “Cuties.”

The eyes that didn’t seem nearly as dead as when you first saw them just gazed affectionately at the boys in the window, while the hand steadily pet your hair. “P’ity.”

You met the gaze of the researchers and the guard from before. “Like I said. I’d bet my life.”

--

Zombie Apocalypse Masterpost

Masterlist.   What about you?

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Overlooked Flowers pt.3 (Good end)

If you asked me to tag you, I'm not ignoring you, I just don't know what I'm doing yet and have to do all this from my phone.

Please enjoy!

Something wasn't right. It kept eating at him. You may have been reclusive lately, but you would always answer immediately, a minute at the most. However, It's been twenty since he asked you to 'hang out'. He missed you. He didn't like that you were pushing him away.

He stood up from his couch and headed towards the door.

"You're going to see her, aren't you?" Chloe's voice called from behind him. She had been spending more and more nights at his apartment. When things were good, he didn't mind, but things rarely stayed merry for long and when that happened, he felt like an intruder in his own home. During these times, he wished you would let him come over. He was comfortable around you, able to be himself. Unlike now, where he is contemplating telling Chloe that he got a call from the DPD, from Hank, or Markus, just to avoid the argument that telling the truth was sure to spawn. In the end, his preconstructions informed him of his low success rate, deciding it really didn't matter. He only gave a moment's pause before slipping his boots on.

"I have to. I think something's wrong."

"If you leave, I won't be here when you come back, " her voice had a dangerous edge to it. This was not the first time he had put you above her. They had many arguments about it, but it was about to be the last.

He looked over his shoulder before opening the door.

"I'm sorry."

And with that, he left.

Climbing into his car, Connor was surprised how easy it was to cut ties with Chloe. They had been in a relationship for two months now, and he did care for her. Surely this should affect him on some emotional level, but all that he could feel is dread. You still haven't answered him, even as he sent several more messages and tried calling you. It was making him frantic, pushing him to switch to manual steering, speeding around corners and intersections.

He managed to get to your house in record time. A knock and a call of your name only prompted your cat to start mewling loudly, but he knew you were home. He banged on your door before finally giving up on formalities and trying the handle. He was surprised to find it unlocked, panic surging through his artificial veins. It all came to a stop when he found you on the floor, reaching for your phone with blood-soaked fingers.

"Y/n!"

Wasting no time, he called for an ambulance as he bolted to your side. You were surrounded by flower petals stained a deep red. A quick scan confirmed his suspicions.

Hanahaki disease.

The roots were so entangled within that his scanner was having trouble differentiating between the roots and your arteries. He could see how they twisted around your inner workings, each it's own form of agony, and he could see where several had punctured through your lungs, slowly flooding your airways.

Carefully, he scooped you up and cradled you to his chest. The movement set off another fit, but it was weak, you being too tired to fight against it anymore.

"Help is on the way, just hang on, " his voice was strained, forcing the words out in an effort to calm you when you both knew they wouldn't be able to help. The accursed plant was too large now and unless it perished it would cause just as much damage to try and remove it.

Your glossy eyes fought to focus on him, mouthing his name but unable to say it, only a gurgled cough escaped along with more flower petals. The sound crushed his heart. He didn't know what to do. At this point, he wishes you had been assaulted by a burglar. At least then he would be able to attend to your wounds. How can he stop a flower from growing? Who could you love so much that you would die for them?

"Why? Why didn't you tell me?" His eyes welled up with tears, dripping down his face and onto your cheeks. He wants to find the person responsible. To break them to match how broken you are. Only an idiot could deny the chance to be with you.

Unable to speak, you reached your hand up, cupping his face, thumb rubbing against his cheek, wiping away his tears. He could feel a warm wetness from your palm, knowing it was likely your blood, but he didn't care. He leaned into your touch, placing one of his hands over yours.

Your lips moved, mouthing the words that made him realize that he was the idiot. A sob escaped him, watching as you slipped in and out of consciousness. Your hand went limp against his cheek.

"Please... Don't go... Don't leave me, " he sobbed, pulling you closer, "I... I love you. I love you so much." How could he be so stupid? You gave him everything he asked so freely, and he had mistaken the feelings that had bloomed as friendship rather than something more, something deeper. He can't lose you. "I love you, " he whispered against your ear as he held you closer against his chest.

You sharply gasped, eyes wide before you began a fresh wave of coughing, this one far more violent. It was in this moment that the paramedics burst through the door, shoving the android out of the way and rushing you to the back of the ambulance. He didn't even have a chance to say goodbye. All you left behind was a single, dead petal. He picked it up and clutched it to his chest.

You were in surgery for 17 hours as android and human alike worked together to repair the damage and remove the now dead, shriveled plant from within your inner workings. 17 hours with no news as Connor paced the entire time, still clutching the withered petal against him. Seeing it, feeling its course surface, he is reminded there is a chance. That, with it dead, you could be saved.

Hank stopped by during the tenth hour, after hearing what happened when Connor didn't show up for his shift. Hank had known you were sick, caught you coughing into a black handkerchief, the color likely hiding the blood. Anytime he asked you about it, you brushed him off, eventually snapping at him to leave you alone. He had no idea what it was, or that it was this bad. Had he had known, he wouldn't have been so quick to back off. Of course, being what it is, you likely would have continued on your self-destructive path, unwilling to lose your emotions. Can't really blame ya. As much as he wished to stop feeling after Cole, he couldn't imagine life without them, like a machine.

"Connor, sit your ass down, she's gonna be fine," Hank groused. he wasn't very confident about his declaration, he's seen what hanahaki can do to a person, but he'd say anything if it would calm his partner down, make him get rid of that broken look on his face. Connor acknowledged him, sat for all of five minutes, clutching something in his hand, before standing back up and returning to pacing back and forth.

Where the hell was Chloe? Wait, scratch that. Connor, looking like a stiff breeze could blow him over, over another woman, a woman even Hank thought he was gonna get serious with, and, to top it off, the woman is only dying because of him... yeah, if he were Chloe, he wouldn't be here either. probably would've dumped his ass.

"Wearin' a path into the floor ain't gonna make them work any faster. Just calm down." Connor looked over at him, the sight breaking the old man's heart.

"I can't."

That was all he could get out of the devastated android. He stood, grabbing Connor by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight embrace. The RK800 stood frozen for a moment before a sob escaped his throat, hands gripping tightly at the lieutenant's coat. Hank held him, feeling him quake with every hushed cry.

"She'll be alright, she'll pull through," he consoled, a few tears escaping his own eyes as his heart ached for his boy. After a long while, Connor had finally calmed down, releasing his death grip on Hank's jacket and pulling back, giving the man a brief, wry smile.

"Thanks, Hank, " he breathed, letting it out while wiping at his face. Glancing at his, now empty, hands, Connor looked to the ground, searching urgently for something. Before Hank could question it, he seemed to have found what he was looking for, watching him pick up what looked like a small, old leaf.

"Whatcha got there?" Connor hesitantly held it out for him to see, as if Hank would snag it away like he had done with so many of his quarters.

"She had coughed it up right when the paramedics showed up, " he pulled it back to his chest.

"So it died?" Hank sounded incredulous, eyeing the android.

"I... I told her I love her..."

The grizzled lieutenant merely nodded. The plant could only die if genuine feelings are expressed. He had to bite his tongue against saying 'bout damn time', knowing that would only worsen the poor kid's pain. He had no idea, and you were willing to die rather than voice your feelings, claiming to want Connor to 'find his own way'. Hank knew better. You were scared. Once you were better, Hank was gonna give you an earful for letting fear and pride blind you and damn near kill you.

Hank was there for another three hours before Fowler called him. He was adamant about staying, but Connor urged him to go, only agreeing under the condition that he is informed the second you were out of surgery.

………..

The head surgeon came out, informing him of the damage he already knew of and all the work needed to pull you back from the brink. You weren't out of the woods, but you were stable. He was thankful that you had listed him as your emergency contact, as when they tried to explain you were still in bad shape and resting, he went to your room anyway. He had to see you, no matter what state you are in.

You had so many machines hooked to you, and your frail form seemed more so against the stark white bed. Connor sat in the chair beside you, taking one of your fragile hands between his own, the petal he had clung to this entire time, now resting in his breast pocket. He watched as your chest gently rose and fell, but it felt so artificial, being forced in by the tube down your throat. A scan of your body revealed all the work that had gone in to save you, and the devastation the plant had wreaked. He watched your heart, beating at a languid pace, matching the slow beeps of the monitor. It was weak, but it was there.

Your face was so pale, and you looked so worn. How long had you been battling against the manifestation of your lament? Why couldn't you have just told him? So many nights spent lying tangled together... why didn't you ask him to stay? Had he understood human emotions more, understood his own better...

There was no going back, now.

he stayed by your side, unmoving even as the nurses would try to tell him that you needed your rest, to come back during visitor hours. Knowing of your condition deterred them from doing much else. He only moved when the nurses needed to care for you, returning to your side the second they were done. He asked Hank to care for your cat. Connor felt terrible for leaving the feline alone after it had witnessed such a tragic event, but he couldn't leave you, not again. Whatever happens now, he will be here, by your side.

Two days passed with no change. Hank stopped by a couple of times, but he didn't stay for long, feeling like he was intruding. He would ask if Connor wanted anything and if he thought of something, just let him know. A couple of your friends had stopped by as well, the few that still cared for you even as you pushed them away. Once they learned what happened, they realized what you were doing, what you had done to hide your illness. They left little gifts, as flowers felt a little inappropriate, considering the situation, wishing you well. One brought a fleece blanket, knowing how much you loved the soft material and how you hated feeling cold. How ironic it was that your favorite season was Winter. Most ignored his existence, though two glared at him. How could he blame them, sitting here, going over memory after memory. It was there, your feelings written in everything you did. how he did not see was beyond him.

A jarring sound broke him from his thoughts. A sustained beep resonating from your monitor. Panicked, he scanned your chest to find your heart still, lifeless. A few nurses burst in, paging for a doctor while trying to resuscitate you. They knocked him out of the way, and he watched in horror as they fought to bring you back.

"Don't go," he whimpered, seeing them bring out the paddles. Your body jumped when they pressed them down to your chest, the monitor hiccuping before flatlining once more. He couldn't handle it. His chest aching in a way he had never experienced before, making him want to rip his own thirium pump out to make it stop.

"DON'T GO!!!" he cried out despairingly. One of the nurses looked to him in annoyance.

"Get him out of here." Two large men came up, attempting to grab him. He struggled and fought, trying to remain with you. One of them punched him in the temple...

He jolted in his seat, unaware of his surroundings for a second. He was still in your hospital room. You remained in bed, unaware of the outside world.

At some point, he had slipped into stasis, the stress bleeding into his dreamscape, resulting in the horrible nightmare that left him trembling. You had not gone into cardiac arrest. You had not left him. A diagnostic told him he had entered low power mode for 7 hours. He couldn't believe so much time had passed and he didn't notice. Still, he picked up your hand and held your wrist against his ear, listening to the steady pulse. It was enough for now.

The soothing thumps kept lulling the emotionally drained android in and out of stasis. Though, with the added reassurance, it was a dreamless slumber, his body merely processing background information and attempting to maintain, if not lower, his elevated stress level by shutting down as many systems as it could without causing issues. The hours passed by in what felt like minutes.

The following day, they decided to remove your artificial breathing. The doctor observed as the android nurse removed the tube from your throat. Connor watched with bated breath, fear striking him like lightning each second your chest remained still. Finally, you sucked in a harsh breath, gasping a few times before your breathing stabilized, slow and uneven and very much alive. A tear escaped his eye as relief washed over him.

On day nine, a tug at his hands and the loss of your warmth against his face brought him out of stasis once more.

Your eyes were fluttering open, hands going into the blanket, balling the material up in your fists.

"Ahh," you gasped, eyes wide as tears began to form. Your monitor began beeping faster, heart racing as you struggled to figure out what was happening. Your rapid breathing irritated your damaged throat, triggering a coughing fit, making it worse. You pulled at the iv in your arm, panic rising. Connor quickly pulled your hand away before you could get it out, then paged a nurse. He put his hand on your cheek, trying to get your attention.

"Y/n, it's alright, you're at the hospital," he was unsure if his words were registering in your pain-laced mind, "I've got you... I've got you."

Your coughing eased as your breathing started to slow, but the tears continued to fall. There was some blood on your lips, prompting Connor to scan you. Luckily, there was minimum damage, nothing that would require you to go back into surgery. The nurse finally showed up. Seeing the situation, she promptly left again, grabbing a needle and injecting your IV with liquid relief. Your hand gripped his free hand tightly before you were out once more. It was an intense interaction, but you had awakened. He planted a small kiss on your brow, wiping your tears away and dabbing away the blood, promptly returning to his previous position, feeling more hopeful than before. He didn't let go of your hand.

You were improving, and soon he would be able to tell you how he feels, without fear and despair enveloping everything. When you are better, he might even scold you a bit for keeping such a huge secret from your "best friend". He wondered what will they be now? "Dating", as he had classified him and Chloe? Or, perhaps, "girlfriend and boyfriend" as Chloe had labeled them? Than again, considering all that the two of you have done in the past, would it be the title of " lovers"? He supposes he'll leave those titles for you to decide, as long as he can label you "mine" and you do the same in return.

It would be two more days before you would regain consciousness again. Hank had brought him spare clothes the previous day, as when you had woken up, something within himself woke up as well. He felt more alive than the previous days, more himself.

With it, he noticed how disheveled he was, pointing out that he was still wearing the clothes from the night he had found you, the blood long dried and beyond smelling like copper to a rancid scent that could not be healthy. In his trance, he had not noticed, but now, he was certain you would not appreciate the foul air once you woke up again. Most of the blood on his cheek had been washed away by his tears, but some still remained, sticking to his face unpleasantly. He borrowed the bathroom that was adjacent to your bed, washing his face and hands before switching clothes. He wanted to look presentable for when you awoke again.

He had also requested for an extra sweater, which he draped over you. In one of his memories, he had forgotten his sweater at your house. When he went to retrieve it, he found that you were sleeping, the sweater held close to your chest. At the time, he thought you were cold, as the blanket was kicked off of you, so he carefully took his sweater from your arms and pulled the blanket up. Seeing it now, he cringed, having realized that was probably the worst conclusion and action he could have come up with.

When you awoke, it was not nearly as dramatic as the last time. Your eyes were slow to focus, and you kept trying to look around, confused. Eventually, your eyes found him, beginning to fill with tears. You tried to say something, but with your dry, damaged throat, all that came out was a breathy wheeze.

"Don't speak. You could further injure yourself." You nodded slightly, placing your hand over his. He picked it up and brought it to his lips. You smiled, one he matched with his own. With your free hand, you gestured, asking for some water.

"They don't want you drinking too much while your throat is swollen, but I'll see if you can have some ice." He tries to stand, but you tighten your grip on his hand, distressed.

"I'll be right back, " he bent down, gently placing a kiss on your lips, " and I'm not going anywhere."

"I…l…ve…ou, " your voice was barely there, but it was enough to make Connor's heart swell.

"I love you, too." It felt like a great weight had been lifted off his chest, watching your smile widen as you gently tugged on his tie to bring him back to your lips. He was sure he looked goofy, unable to keep himself from grinning.

……..

Hank came by a few hours later. He found Connor lying across your lap, his lower half propped up on a chair. One of your hands was tangled in his hair, your thumb caressing his crown. Your other hand was being held by his, breaking contact only when you needed to pop an ice cube into your mouth. You were both watching the tv across from your bed, some crime show, acting as if you were both simply at home and not in a hospital room after you almost kicked the bucket. You both had your own suspects, Connor using the evidence to explain his. Hank had no idea what you were saying. You would tap on Connor's head to get his attention so he could read your lips. Based on the scrap of paper by your bed, you both had been at this for a while, one check by your name, three by Connor's and five under both. Neither of you even noticed him until he cleared is throat. You seemed happy to see him, giving him a wave and a smile.

"Hello, Hank." Connor regarded him. If he didn't know better, he never would have guessed this was the same android that was on the verge of a complete mental breakdown not even two weeks ago and who had been sitting here since, the poster-child for depression.

"Don't you fuckin' 'hi Hank' me!" Hank barked, and instinctively you shrunk down into the sheets, avoiding eye contact. Connor sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet in the chair, "you two just gonna pretend nothing happened? You've been on the verge of killin' yerself, and now yer just chillin'? And you! You treat your friends like shit, quit yer job, almost kill yerself, and now yer sitting here, watching tv like it's any other regular day at home? Fuck you!"

"I-sor-ak! I-d-n't-an-" your words were incomprehensible, and Connor tried to tell you to stop, but it wasn't until you started coughing that you ceased. Connor glared at him.

"She can't even speak right now, what good would it do to chastise her?" When your fit ended, he held the cup of ice for you, taking one and slipping it into your mouth, "Besides, I've found, from personal experience, that near death experiences carry their own lesson."

"I'd believe that if you ever learned to listen to me, " Hank groused, hands crossed over his chest. Perhaps now was not the best time for this, but its hard not to get pissed off when the people who've you been scared shitless for are just laying about without a care in the world.

You tapped Connor, pointing to your lips and than to Hank. Catching on, he nodded and waited for you to start.

"I'm sorry, Hank, " Connor began, relaying your message by reading your lips, "I didn't want you to worry. I figured if everyone hated me it would hurt less when I was gone."

"Bullshit. Ya should've just told Connor, you fuckin' idiot!"

You scoffed, smiling at the lieutenant.

"Yep." You leaned forward and kissed Connor before settling back into the pillows, Connor following suit, laying back on your lap and taking your hand back in his.

"There's another chair over there, " Connor gestured to the far wall, "you're welcome to join us."

Hank shook his head before scoffing himself. Everything ended alright, might as well not dwell on what could have happened. He dragged the chair to the other side of your bed, jostling your hair before sitting down. You quickly fixed it before adding Hank to the roster, smiling at the makeshift family. To think you could have lost this. You really were an idiot, but you were an idiot in love, and it feels so much better when its reciprocated.

[whumpqin]

The Party, Part One

Haha......... this is a lot longer than I thought it would be. So this comes out in two parts, now! Yay!

CW: Modern slavery, creepy/intimate whumper, emotional whump, nightmares, pet whump, collars, conditioning, brainwashing, brief mention of a panic attack, touch starvation, accidental self harm, knife mention, dubcon mention / implied dubcon, and probably some other things I’ve forgotten! Message me if further tagging is needed.

Word Count: 3,348

“Where’s your fucking MANNERS, HUH?” the figure shouted at him, swinging a large black baton that he has a feeling could shatter him with one hit. He hadn’t been hurt just yet, but he had a feeling that he would be. He always was.

His other half whines, curling against him in fear. He gathers him up into his arms, a promise without words.

I’ll protect you. Don’t worry.

The shadows wafting off the figure, squared off with thorns that prickle underneath, radiate a strength that makes them both cower. He must pick his words carefully to appease them, to make sure that this didn’t escalate. If he said something wrong, he might never see his other half again.

That was unacceptable.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry. I’ll learn my manners. I’ll be good,” he promises, making a show of looking down on the ground, as if terrified to make eye contact.

It’s a total lie, and both him and the shadows know it. He can tell by the way their eyes narrow, but he isn’t afraid of being hurt by those callous eyes, even though he feels the cracks underneath his skin shift uncomfortably. His bones scream from the beating he had been taking since the beginning of time, begging him not to do this.

“Get your ass over here. I won’t have you disrespect me.” The baton raises, cutting the chain between the two of them in one fell swoop.

He slowly stood up, granting his other half a gentle pat on the shoulder for comfort. His feet dragged as he moved forward, but he forced himself to kneel in front of the shadow, ignoring the way the thorns almost seemed to graze across his skin. Infecting him with the same prickling sensation he knows won’t wash off despite his best efforts. He forced his eyes to look up, hardened and with a tense jaw.

They both know what is going to happen. The shadow will make a show of it, and everyone will laugh. 

It’s hard to tell if there’s an audience, but he can feel the multitude of eyes staring at him from his back. He dared a glance backwards, but only sees his other half pressed tightly into a corner and crying. There’s a gratefulness that he can’t see what’s to come. He makes a note to stay quiet, just for him.

“I’m going to have a lot of fun with you, I think,” the figure muttered, raising the large baton. He always said that. He always has his fun.

They swing directly for his face.

Emerson shot up in the bed with a heavy gasp. 

His body is slick with sweat, soaking the bed, sheets, and blankets as if water had been dumped into it.  He panted desperately, as he forced air into his lungs that he’s sure that he had been holding in his sleep, regardless of how much they protested. Emerson kept his eyes open, staring at nothing and everything. He’s completely alone, and he felt a pang in his chest when he noticed the empty space beside him.

He’s alone. Alone and not safe. Emerson forces his hands to his neck, curling in on himself while the pressed fingers underneath his collar. It’s a hopeful reminder that he is safe. He’s safe. There’s no danger.

The collar means you’re safe. The collar means you’re good.

Take off that fucking collar and come over here, ‘552.

Panic set in regardless.

He forced himself to get up and get into the shower, refusing to look at himself in the mirror as he took his soaked clothes off and dropped them on the floor. Emerson didn’t want to see the bruises that were just beginning to fade. It’s a reminder that it’s just going to start all over again today, even though he’s tried hard not to think about it. But his mind ticks down like a doomsday clock regardless, waiting for the deadline.

The party is tonight.

Emerson fell apart in the shower, where no one would be able to see or disturb him. Sobs wracked his whole body, making him shake from every one as the water rolled down from his shoulders. He clung to the sounds like breath, trying to use it to force the panic from under his skin so that he could just be, and he prays that no one waits outside of his door.

Eventually, when he felt numb and there were no more tears left to shed, he finished his shower.

He dried himself off and put on the clothes that he set aside the night before. He went downstairs, and there he realized that he was up surprisingly early. His nightmare must have woken him up in the middle of the night and he didn’t realize because there was no clock in his room.

You don’t need a clock to know when to perform your duties, do you?

No, Master Henrick.

Emerson sighed, considering his options. He could go back to his sweat-ridden bed and try for more sleep, hoping that he would wake up in time to get everything done today, or he could get his chores done early and have some time for reading, if Master Henrick allowed him. Wait until it was time to put on a show for the guests that would arrive. Pray that they didn’t kill him this time.

It was against his better judgement, but he decided on the latter. If he looked like he had proper work ethic, maybe Master Henrick would reward him. Emerson was never the favored one, but he could always hope.

Especially when he knew what the reward would be.

He meandered his way to the kitchen. It’s lonely here, empty and spotless brown counters with a tan marble island for eating, but it’s one of the only places that he can lose himself in his work for a little while and have some peace of mind. Emerson got to work prepping all of the food needed for the day, setting aside just enough to make breakfast in a few hours.

As he worked, he couldn’t help but to let his mind drift to the events of the evening. How the room needed to be decorated, what to make sure he needed to keep in mind while he organized everything. What Master Henrick’s tastes were. How to orientate everything so it was facing the platform that he was going to be on. Everyone, of course, was going to need a proper seat so that they could see-

Emerson cut himself across the index finger.

A sharp hiss slipped through his teeth as he raised the offending finger up above his heart. He found a cloth to serve as a makeshift bandage while he searched for the real bandages that he stashed somewhere in the cupboards. When he did find them he took care to clean the wound, dry it, and then wrap it delicately enough that he wouldn’t put too much pressure onto the wound.

He took a brief moment to breathe through the pain, which felt much worse than it should’ve been, and got back to work. 

At some point, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps. Emerson flicks his gaze backwards to not distract himself too much, catching sight of a wrinkled suit with no tie and tousled hair. Has it been that long already?

Master Henrick lazily surveyed his work, soft and warm brown eyes scouring the countertop before plucking some scraps of apple skin that Emerson had cut up earlier.

“Good morning, Master Henrick,” he greeted, curling his hand at the same time to try and hide the cut across his finger. 

His wrist was grabbed forcefully.

“What’s this?” Master Henrick muttered, fighting against Emerson to raise his hand for both of them to see. “I don’t remember doing this to you.”

“I-I’m sorry. I accidentally cut myself. Just a small accident, it shouldn’t bother any plans,” Emerson said quickly. “I’ll have the bandage off soon.”

“No no, keep it on until tonight. I don’t want it getting infected.” His voice was gentle as he spoke, pressing on the wound carefully as if to check how bad it was. Emerson whined through his nose, unable to choke back the sound, and Master Henrick let him go.

Emerson forced himself to go back to work in spite of the throb in his finger now, but listened closely in case anything else was said between them. And, if he knew his owner well, there would be more words.

“Orifel will be down soon. I hope you’ll have breakfast ready by then?” A hand brushed a lock of hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. He tried not to shudder at the touch.

“Yes, Master Henrick.” Emerson kept his voice muted on purpose, an attempt to not let the sudden burst of excitement in his chest show too much.

“I’ll feed him this morning. Wouldn’t want any blood to get in his food, of course. But I’ll let the two of you talk for a bit,” he explained. It’s complete bullshit and they both know it, but Emerson nods like he hasn’t heard the real meaning of the words.

If you hadn’t hurt yourself when you’re not supposed to, you would have gotten to spend more time with him.

“Yes, Master Henrick. I’ll have everything ready very soon.” The words very nearly choke in his throat but he forced them out anyway.

“What is it, Emerson?” Fingers tilted his head to the side, up to the taller man who watched him with careful precision. “There’s nothing to be afraid of here, we’re not putting on a show in the kitchen. It’s just you and me. And Orifel I suppose, if he decides to show up.”

“Master Henrick, he, he can’t see to go down the stairs.” Emerson forces a smile to tug at the corner of his lips, because Master Henrick lets a low chuckle out through his nose. “But, the party tonight. The show. I’m assuming that I’m decorating it? Like normal? I know how exact you like things to be.”

“Is that what’s making you so nervous? Oh, Emerson, are you getting early stage fright?” It’s said in a slightly demeaning tone, like he’s a child. Of course I’d fucking get stage fright over that How could I not? “Don’t worry, you’re trained just how they like. There will be no problem on that end.”

Master Henrick selected another apple skin. “You will be decorating it like normal, though. Shouldn’t be too hard for you, I think you know where everything is. But I’ll be handling the display of tools. Those are mine.”

“Of course.” 

They were talking about this as if those tools and that party were just harmless things. As if they both didn’t know what they were going to be used for.

“You’ll do just fine, Emerson.” He repressed a shudder as Master Henrick ran his fingers through his hair, down his neck, and finally hooking into the collar that lied safely against his skin. He tugged, pulling him close to press a kiss to his forehead. “Look at me.” Emerson swallowed, eyes flicking over to Master Henrick’s. “Don’t touch Orifel. Let him touch you, but don’t you dare touch him. Understand?”

“...Yes, Master Henrick.” His gaze dropped to the counter, where he had a bowl of mixed greens and spices.

“Good.” The hands left. As they drew away Master Henrick snatched another apple skin piece, and he walked away without another word.

Leaving Emerson alone in the tense, suffocating silence, while his skin screamed from the empty feeling the hands had left.

He decidedly just focused on cooking. Focused on trying not to hurt his hands any more than he already had.

At some point he heard another set of footsteps approach the kitchen, softer and more light. If he wasn’t listening for them, Emerson wondered if he would have noticed.

“Em?” His body tensed and he was thankful that he couldn’t see it. He forced a smile into his voice.

“Good morning, Ori. How are you?” Polite. Terse. It came out just like he planned. Orifel worked that same smile on his face that he put on for Emerson. His hands reached out, finding the island in the middle of the kitchen and moving them back and forth until he found the chair.

“Green.” His favorite color, of course. Orifel slowly sat down, beginning to kick his legs back and forth when he settled. “How are you, Emmy?”

Emerson slid the final omelette he had been making onto a plate. “I’m… gray today. But I’m just tired. Wanted to get an early start today.” When Orifel frowned, he panicked. “I’ll be fine, though! Just uh… How, how was last night?”

Orifel’s head tilted, and then he sighed. “Pink and green, like normal. Not black, though. It’s never black,” he said, smiling in that mischievous manner that made his nose wrinkle. It fell just as quick as it had appeared, but Emerson couldn’t help but mimic that smile even if Orifel couldn’t see it. “If you’re tired you should get some rest, if you can. Early start or not, it won’t do anyone any good if you don’t feel good, Em.”

“I already said, I’ll be fine.” When Orifel’s sightless eyes stared blankly in his direction, wide and waiting, he quickly caved. “I’ll try to get a nap in or something later, if I can. But anyway, green and pink are good, at least.”

“Yeah, it was nice. I liked it a lot. I’ll spare you the details though, I know how it makes you feel. But it was… good. It was good.”

Emerson glanced down to see Orifel’s hands worrying at themselves. Fingernails pressed gently into the skin, making marks but not harming. He made a note to keep an eye on that, but he could tell from the way that Orifel stopped and started that he was very aware of it.

“Um… good.” He didn’t know what else to say that wouldn’t have come off as desperate or like a request. Instead he just stayed quiet.

He hated when it was quiet.

“Hey, Em… can I… touch your face?” Emerson winced at the sound of him practically throwing the cooking pan into the sink, turning to see Orifel cringed. “Yellow. Um, I mean, if you’re done plating the food up.”

“I’m done now.” At least, everything was plated up enough that he was more than done. He painstakingly set the rest of the pans down in the sink before making his way over to Orifel.

His chest hurt as he forced  his hands behind his back and settled into a bastardized version of Position 7, even though he needed to. He needed to or else he won’t be able to keep his hands off of Orifel and be good for Master Henrick like he’s supposed to be. Emerson swallowed, leaning forward into the arms outstretched for him.

Orifel’s fingers fall onto familiar areas, beginning with tracing over cheekbones like he usually does. He felt the curvature of Emerson’s face, letting one hand trace over his forehead while the other found his jawline and trailed it with a few fingers. It was as if he was reminding himself what Emerson’s face felt like, a comforting gesture that Orifel’s been doing for as long as he had known him.

Just hold onto my face, okay? That’s familiar. Hang onto that familiar thing and you’ll be okay.

Emerson swallowed, feeling the urge to hold Orifel as close as he can tug painfully at his chest. He can’t, because he’s not allowed. Because he had made a mistake before Master Henrick even saw him.

If you hadn’t cut yourself, maybe you could touch him. Maybe you could spend more time with him.

If only you had learned your fucking manners-

“The, the food. It’s, going to get cold. I need to, um, get it, Ori,” he stated, voice flat and tense and unable to hold itself together as well as he had hoped. 

Orifel picked up on the obvious excuse. “Okay. You know I don’t mind cold food. Is something the matter?”

“Just… I’m… Hmm,” Emerson hummed unwillingly as hands slipped up into his hair, carding through it with a loving touch in an effort to comfort him. His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, sparks rippling down his spine as he leaned into the hands without meaning to.

“Just what? Do you want me to stop? Is… is this good? Am I doing this right?” Orifel’s voice began to waver as his hands paused, holding still exactly where they were.

“It’s fine, Ori, it’s fine. Just…” Emerson’s eyes opened so he could look at him properly, but darted to the side as he saw movement-

And looked directly into Master Henrick’s eyes.

His voice died in his throat as those eyes, once warm and now cold as ice, watched him like a hawk and its prey from a distance. Too far to hear anything important, but still there to witness. Watching.

Waiting for Emerson to make a mistake.

“White and brown,” he whispered quickly, voice cracking under the tense strain he was putting it under. The two colors hopefully would give Orifel enough meaning; tell him what was so wrong.

I’m anxious and he’s here. I can’t say what I want to because he’s watching us. I’m scared.

Orifel’s eyes darted back and forth, faded gray pupils thinking carefully while they rested on nothing in particular. Then his hands moved to delicately hold the back of Emerson’s head, before bringing him close to press a sloppy kiss to his forehead.

“Mwah,” he said, voice low and soft. His hands carded through his hair one last time before drawing away, and Emerson tried not to whine at the emptiness of touch that was left behind, instead huffing out a sigh. “Everything will be okay, Em. Don’t worry.” Orifel offered another one of his bright smiles. “You’ll do just fine.”

Don’t worry. You’re trained just how they like.

“I’ll try. I’ll- I’ll be good.” He forced himself to shift away, instead moving to the counter again to clean up the kitchen. “Master Henrick will be feeding you today. I have some things I need to prepare for the party, so I’ll be in the ballroom if you need me.”

“Okay. Oh, Emerson?”

“Yeah?

“I love you.” Words mean to be comforting, said softly like a reminder. Orifel wanted him to know, that much was obvious, to help keep him going through the day, elevated enough so that he could be heard from a greater distance. 

It didn’t stop the ache that Emerson felt in his chest, the one that he constantly felt, now. His eyes glanced over to Master Henrick, watching, his intense gaze hardening into the one that would have him kneeling and begging at his feet if he came closer.

Master Henrick shook his head.

Upon command, Emerson huffed out a forced laugh that came out almost awkward. “You love everyone, Ori. Just try to remember what I told you, okay? I’ve got to get to work.”

Emerson finished cleaning quickly, the distance between them growing more and more unbearable by the second. After that he walked out of the kitchen with a brief pace, caught by Master Henrick at the shoulder.

He leaned in close, too close. “Good boy. Go get to work, now.”

With a nod, Emerson skirted around Master Henrick and walked, practically ran, as he tried to push away the tears that threatened to brim the bottom of his eyelids.

Emerson tried to focus on the task at hand. Reminded himself what he was supposed to be doing and why. That he needed to be good. He pushed away the fear that curled into his chest at the idea of the show, how he’ll need to be good and scream just like his Master wanted him to. Like he was always supposed to.

He swallowed.

Tonight is the party.

[glare-gryphon]

drabble asks! #3 “I know it hurts.”

I can’t get the read more to work on mobile im so sorry about the wall if text.

The only noise in the bathroom is the dull roar of the tub as it fills, the lazy curls of the steam as it rises from the water a counterpoint to the tension that lingers through Anakin’s body. He stands by the bathroom door, arms folded protectively across his chest despite the way it pulls at the wounds on his back; Ben kneels by the tub, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows to keep them dry while he swirls his hand in the water, testing the temperate. A pointless gesture, Anakin thinks solemnly, his eyes darting from the floor to the once-pristine sleeves that are now dappled with a deep crimson. The same color stains Anakin’s clothes, his hair, his skin. This is nothing unusual, another part of the ritual, but he finds himself staunchly avoiding looking at Ben as he wears it. It turns his stomach, when he does, and he can’t quite figure out why. Perhaps it is the intrusion on his own design, blood and gore and savagery baptizing him anew every time he spills crimson across the floor of some dark, abandoned corner of Coruscant. Or perhaps, he thinks a bit manically, it is the staining of the man himself that brings him such distress, like a holy icon battered by the ravages of war.

Ben Kenobi: the god of Anakin’s own personal church. Not an alpha, but The Alpha. The one Anakin had known he was destined for the moment he set foot in the man’s lecture hall and drank of the scent that lingered in the space around him. Precise and poised and perfect, the way alphas rarely are but are certainly meant to be. He is fantasy come to life, an ideal given breath, and Anakin can barely stand to share the same air with such perfection.

“Aren’t you going to call the police?” He hears himself rasp into the space between them, and curses himself for breaking the spell.

Ben glances over his shoulder from where he monitors the tub’s progress, and quirks his brow as if to ask: should I?

Yes, is certainly the rational answer to such a question. It is generally considered the appropriate action to take upon discovering one man beating another to death in a filthy, disused alleyway. Especially when the one doing the beating is an omega, their victim an alpha, a crime that would certainly leave Anakin tagged and institutionalized in some padded cell for the remainder of his years should the authorities ever find out. Just the thought makes him shiver, despite the almost cloying warmth of the bathroom, but Ben just watches him with the same passively curious kind of expression he’s worn since he coaxed Anakin off the stilling body of his victim and tucked him into the safety of his car. Then he turns away and resumes watching the tub, tipping a bottle of something into the water that bubbles when he stirs it until a thick layer of foam covers the surface. Apparently satisfied, he turns off the tap and reaches for a towel, drying his hands as he rises.

“You may keep your undergarments on, if you wish,” Ben declares, and there is something sharp behind his eyes when he finally looks up at Anakin that has the omega swallowing dryly and fumbling for the hem of his shirt. It isn’t predatory, the way most alpha’s eyes would be when waiting for an omega to undress. Just...expectant. As though he can think of no plausible reason Anakin should question his command.

The alpha does, at least, offer him some semblance of privacy. Ben turns as he undresses, opening the first aid kit resting on the edge of the sink and busying himself with sorting through its contents. Anakin didn’t sustain too many injuries during his fight, but he knows there are a few that will need some medical attention. The ones on his back are the worst, and he can’t help the wince the crosses his face when he pulls his shirt off, fabric peeling away the blood dried to his skin and the edges of his wounds. His pants follow, dropped in a heap on the tile floor, and Anakin pauses with his fingers fiddling with the waistband of his boxers. He considers leaving them on, but the thought of wet fabric clinging to his waist and thighs is enough to add them to the pile of discarded clothing at his feet. Ben has already watched him kill a man tonight—a little nudity is likely the least of his concerns, now.

He has to suppress a hiss when he sinks into the hot water, whatever Ben added to make bubbles stinging in Anakin’s open wounds. He can’t allow the weakness; something primal at his core warns him against allowing an alpha like Ben to discover such a vulnerability. A vulnerable omega is one easily taken advantage of, and though Anakin uses vulnerability to lure his prey to their demise, *true* weakness is unacceptable. True weakness will get him killed. If not by his prey, then certainly by this alpha. There is something lurking beneath Ben’s charming smile that Anakin has yet to bear witness to; he would rather do so as a spectator and not a victim.

Ben returns with a wash rag, dipping into the soapy water and beginning to carefully clean away the filth and grime that cover Anakin’s skin. He does not comment on the omega’s nudity—the implicit trust it represents, though his eyes do spark when Anakin shivers at his touch. No alpha, no matter how impressive their self-control, is completely immune to the fairest sex. Still, Ben sweeps the washrag across his upturned face and bared neck in even, smooth strokes. His hands do not shake, his breathing remains even, even as that fascinating something dances behind the alpha’s eyes.

“You will have to be diligent with these wounds,” he murmurs, wiping away the evidence of Anakin’s misdeeds from his bruised and bloody knuckles. “They’re not terribly deep, but should you neglect them, they could very easily become infected.”

“I’m always careful,” Anakin replies, and Ben hums his quiet approval.

“Turn for me. I need to see your back.”

Anakin stiffens at this, the first real hesitation he’s had since catching sight of Ben in the alleyway. His traitorous heart picks up speed, and he knows the alpha can hear it. Fear, the primal kind—the kind that draws alpha predators like blood in the water draws sharks—makes his breath quicken for a short, terrifying moment before he can wrestle himself back under control. The worst of his wounds are on his his back, the gouges need to be tended to, but showing an alpha his vulnerable back is something any omega knows better than to do.

“I understand this may be an uncomfortable situation for you,” Ben assures. “I know it hurts, but your wounds need to be treated.”

Laying hands on his shoulders, Ben turns him with gentle pressure. Anakin is still not entirely sure it’s a good idea, but he forces himself to try and swallow down the fear and trust in the cool disinterest Ben has maintained through the course of their every prior interaction. This terror does not carry the same thrill as that of the fight; the exposure of his bonding glands to an unmated alpha could carry a much high consequence than a savage death. It is strange to find that his interest in this alpha and his fear of reciprocation are not mutually exclusive concepts.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ben murmurs, as though sensing the direction of thoughts.

“Not anymore,” Anakin answers hollowly, staring into the tainted bathwater and tasting on his tongue the thought that’s lingered at the back of his mind since he was seated in Ben’s passenger seat and watching the city lights pass by.

Thoughts of tarp and rope and a sharp knife. Of the chemical sting of bleach in his sensitive nose and the watering of his eyes. Of a body, neatly tucked in to a well-lined trunk, dumped into a dark corner of the harbor. Of all these things fitting together in his mind like pieces of a familiar puzzle: he was not the only one hunting, this night.

It was no accident that Ben had stumbled upon him.

For a moment, the alpha’s hands go still against his back. Anakin bites down hard enough on his lip to draw fresh blood, waiting for a response. Denial, perhaps, or a quick end to his life. There is a switchblade in Ben’s pocket; he hadn’t seen the alpha remove it, before preparing Anakin’s bath.

He’s surprised, then when one of Ben’s hands squeezes tightly at his shoulder, the other skipping down the ridges of his spine. “No,” the alpha rasps, and Anakin’s breath hitches at the tone. “No, not anymore.”

[dank-hp--memes]

Plot Potatoes: Chernobyl

An Eternity With You

Tags: @shit-in-silk-stocking

(Note, if you want to be tagged lmk, or of you want to tag anyone else, go ahead)

---

Valerys Apartment, Moscow

-

Ulana approached the building with a large file box in her arms. She could feel her hands shaking as her nerves got the better of her. She had not spoken to Valery since the meeting in December with Shcherbina and him. She had heard about his speech in Vienna, and that made her disappointment in him worsen exponentially. He had towed the party line, and now many more may lose their lives because of this. 

She approached the door, her heart pounding. Ulana bit her bottom lip as she set down the file box and knocked on the door. She picked the box back up as the door opened. Valery stood, staring at her, quite shocked. 

"May I come in?" Ulana says softly, her voice quivering.

Valery nods and steps aside. She enters and looks around. As Valery closes the door, Ulana feels something soft brush up against her leg. She looks down to see a beautiful tabby cat. Ulana places her file box on a nearby chair and bends down, beginning to pet the small animal. As Valery turns back after locking the door, he smiles a little, feeling his heart begin to ache as he watches Ulana. She has a radiant smile on her face as she pets his cat. 

"Her name is Sasha" Valery says softly, looking down at Ulana.

Ulana smiles a little and begins to coo at Sasha, who has quickly taken a liking to Ulana. Valery feels the sudden urge to sit down on the floor beside Ulana and pull her into his lap, but he suppresses it. Just watching her is enough to make his heart ache. Just being in her presence is enough for him. 

A few moments pass and Ulana stands up, collecting her file box. She looks over at Valery, not knowing where to sit. He leads her to his small dining table. Ulana sits down, keeping the box in her lap. They sit in an awkward silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say.

"So, did you take the train?" Valery says after clearing his throat. 

Ulana nods and begins to open the file box.

"Yes, I took a train, now let's talk about Vienna" she says, not taking her eyes off of him.

Valery rolls his eyes, expecting to be reprimanded.

"I haven't come to scold you. I know how the world works. I'm a realist,no matter what Shcherbina thinks" Ulana says, with a slight huff of frustration.

"Then why are you here?" Valery mumbles, quickly losing interest in the conversation.

The conversation that follows is fairly frustrating, for Ulana is extremely stubborn and will not give up without a fight.

"Why?" Legasov says, looking at her, his heart sinking, he anticipates what she will say.

" Because you're Legasov. And you mean something. I'd like to think if I spoke out, it would be enough" Ulana says, a bitter look crossing her face, "But as I said, I know how the world works"

There is a pause, tension in the air. It is obvious that Valery does not share her passion for the truth.

"They will shoot me Khomyuk" Valery says selfishly. 

Ulana sighs, the use of her last name stinging like disinfectant on an open wound. She has one last shot at convincing him. She begins pulling the notebooks out of her file box.

"You told me to find out what happened. I talked to dozens of people. Every word they said, I wrote down" Ulana says as she separates the books into two piles.

She gestures to the pile with two books. "These are the people who are still alive"

She pauses before gesturing to the pile with twelve books. "These are the ones who are dead. They died rescuing each other. Putting out fires. Tending to the wounded. They didn't hesitate. They didn't waver. They simply did what had to be done" Ulana says, feeling her eyes start to water at the memory of the men and the state they were in when they died.

"So have I. I went willingly to an open reactor. I've also given my life. Is that not enough?" Valery says, seeing the disappointment in her eyes as he speaks, causing his heart to ache 

"I'm sorry, but it is not" Ulana says as she begins gathering her books. 

Sasha suddenly jumps into Ulanas lap, knocking the file box to the ground. Ulana looks down at her with a solemn look. She sighs before gently stroking the cat. Valery watches her for a moment, feeling tears come to his eyes.

"I am sorry Ulana. I never meant to disappoint you" he whispers, resting his head in his hands.

Ulana looks up at him, the sight of him so upset breaks her heart. She reaches out and places her hand on his knee. Valery looks up at her tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ulana whispers, referring to the Volkov paper.

Valery looks at her, at a loss for words. He is drowning in her vibrant blue eyes.

"I-I needed to keep you safe. I needed to keep you away from Chernobyl" Valery whispers, his voice choked.

Ulana bites her lip and looks over Valerys face. A few moments pass and she cannot find the words to reply.

"I love you Ulana" Valery whispers, taking her hand.

"I love you too, Valery" Ulana replies as he pulls her into a hug, dumping Sasha from her lap.

He can feel her soft hair again his cheek as she climbs into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. He presses his nose against the crook of her neck, taking in her sweet scent. He can feel her leaning into him and holding onto him tightly. They sit like that for a few moments before Valery leans back a little. 

"Would you like to stay a while?" He says softly, gently running his fingers through her graying hair. 

Ulana smiles a little, wiping the tears from her eyes. 

"I would like to…" She says softly as she stairs into his eyes.

With much effort, Valery carries her over to his sofa. They sit side by side, his arm wrapped around her as she lays her head against his shoulder. The TV is on, playing nothing very interesting. Ulana wraps her arms around him as she bends her legs to get more comfortable.

She nuzzles her head against his shoulder, looking up at him. 

"I could stay here forever" she whispers, a blissful smile on her face.

Valery looks down at her, gently running his fingers through her hair.

"Then stay" He says, nuzzling her forehead with his nose.

Ulana looks up and presses her lips against his.

"I think I will…" she says softly, holding him in her arms as she lays her head back on his shoulder. 

They watch stare past the TV and out the window as the sun begins to set. Sasha has settled down in Valerys lap and Ulana is half asleep as she cuddles Valery. Valery watched as the setting sun sent an orange glow into the room as he stroked Sasha. He looked down at Ulana as she rested peacefully and in that very moment he was content. He could have remained there for all eternity with her. 

As it begins to get dark out Valery gently rouses Ulana.

"Lana" he whispers, prodding her gently.

"Hmmm" she groans, opening her eyes a little to look up at him.

Her eyes are foggy and clouded with sleep. The sight of her so drowsy puts a small smile on Valery's face.

"Why don't we move to my bed? You will be more comfortable there" Valery says softly, gently pushing her hair off her face.

"I haven't anything to wear…" Ulana mumbles sleepily, laying her head back against his shoulder.

"I am sure I can find something that will suit you" Valery says as he picks her up off the couch. 

Despite his weakened state, he manages to carry her to his bedroom. He places her gently on the bed. She sits up drowsily, beginning to remove her jacket. Valery quietly begins rooting through his drawers, finding an old and oversized button down. It is a creme color and rather silky feeling. He looks over at Ulana, his eyes wandering down her rather slim figure.

"This should suit you" he says softly, handing her the shirt.

She takes it with a slight smile. Valery quietly gathers his own pajamas. When he turns back to her she is in nothing but her bra and underwear, and she is slowly rolling down her stockings. Valery watches for a moment, looking at her soft legs. He smiles a little before getting undressed and putting on his shirt and pajama pants. When he turns back to Ulana, she is stacking her folded clothes on her dresser, placing her bra on top of them. She turns back to him, now wearing only the oversized button down and her underwear. The buttondown hangs loosely over her body, but it does not conceal much. 

Ulana smiles drowsily as she climbs into the small bed. Valery sits down on the bed and lays down beside her. Ulana rolls onto her side and lays her head on his chest, wrapping her arm around him. She looks up at him, a blissful smile on her face as she wraps one of her soft legs over his. Valery smiles and wraps his arm around her, his hand resting on her hip. She is extremely warm and snuggly. He plants a soft kiss on her forehead, taking in her sweet and comforting scent. He could spend a lifetime there, with her in his arms.

"Sweet dreams Lana" He whispers as he turns out the light.

[lentaska]

Height Difference - Part 3

Have been busy with job and class, another crazy week passed soon :)

Note: Featuring Madman Fulton. First person POV, OFC from non-wrestling background. New oc is out and he is a good-looking asshole :) This is a work of fan fiction using characters from wrestling, I do not claim any ownership over them.

oc: Birdie (some doodles)

Tagging: @thecristsandcallihanmadness @monstersmaid @morie-leigh

Part Three “what if he loses you”

Trying new things would help people to know more about themselves, for example, this morning - the first morning of our “cohabiting experiment” - I just learned that I actually hit Fulton in sleep.

“And it’s not only the hit, you also kicked me. I woke up once around 5 am.” Fulton added more information. “The good thing is, you behaved after tucking yourself into my arms.”

Now I had the answer for why I woke up in Fulton’s arms and he looked like just had a battle.

“Sorry, I didn’t know that before. Did I hurt you?” I asked, rubbing his hand.

He chuckled, “with your strength? Of course. You will definitely defeat me in the ring.”

An odd idea popped up - it’s probably because I had watched one wrestling match and was motivated - I might be able to fight him for real.

This was also a naive idea, Fulton tried hard not to laugh at it and discourage me, although I still could see the grin he hid. He announced in joking tone, “if you lift me up for even half inch, you win.”

“I’m taking it seriously.”

“I know.” He opened his arms to me, grinning, “c’mon Birdie.”

The rule was simple. I took a deep breath, grabbed his waist and lifted him up - or tried to lift him up because he was not moving AT ALL, so I did another attempt but still failed. Wondering how this was possible, I heard Fulton’s voice, “wanna take a break?” based on the cheerfulness in the tone, he was holding back laughter.

“It’s warm-up.” I explained indignantly, making myself sound tough.

“Alright, alright.” Fulton snickered, “take your time.”

In a match or challenge related to strength, longer it took, less chance to win because the strength would come to exhaustion eventually, hence my third attempt was much worse and I couldn’t help gasping. I knew Fulton was built and strong, but I didn’t expect him to be this... heavy. This man was a brick wall, if I ever accidentally knocked against him, I would be dizzy for a while.

“Are you ok?” asked Fulton.

Managed to catch breath, I found myself the worst excuse, “I’m... hungry. You know, I have no strength when I’m hungry.”

Fulton nodded, pretending to believe my words.

I gave up, “I can’t do this. I was being silly to think that I can fight you.”

“Let me see...” he check the clock, “Five minutes, good job.”

“Take that smirk back.” I elbowed him gently.

Fulton grimaced and acted like he got hurt from my “attack”.

Rolled my eyes at him, I asked, “are you still taking me to your match tonight?”

“Of course, but this time you don’t need to make script about what to say to my friends.”

I guess he would not let go of any silly thing I did. He thought those things were “cute”. Like the time I freaked out on his Jason costume on Halloween and screamed “don’t kill me”, he still brought it up. It didn’t annoy me though, probably because of the affectionate way he used.

 When I arrived locker room with Fulton, the ambience was uneasy, the Crist brothers and Sami looked anxious, I had never seen them behave in such way, something serious happened.

I looked up at Fulton, who responded with the same confused expression. Noticed our appearance, Jake waved at us first, then Dave and Sami came to us.

“Do you know that your opponent is replaced?” asked Sami.

Clearly Fulton was not informed in advance, “whom I’ll be facing then?”

“The new guy just joined 3 weeks ago, we don’t know much about him.” Dave shrugged, “I don’t remember his name.”

Jake let out a sigh, “How can you forget one simple name... his name is Vasiliy. ”

The name brought Fulton on the alert. Subconsciously, I grasped Fulton’s hand more tightly. I did this when I was on nerve and I found myself doing this more often since dating Fulton, mainly because I had panic every time he had match. “Is he difficult to deal with?” I asked, praying that Vasiliy guy was just a regular wrestler.

Sami snapped in detestation, “he is plague.”

If the Death Machine himself commented a person so negatively, then this person was a real trouble.

“Sami is right.” Jake frowned and turned to me, “although it’s highly unlikely, if you ever run into that guy, leave immediately.”

Another Crist nodded, “something is wrong with him.”

I froze at their words. There was one moment that I wanted to ask Fulton not to go, but I couldn’t, it’s his match and I needed be supportive. I took a deep breath, said - more like to comfort myself, “Fulton will win easily, I have faith in him.”

 I was very wrong.

When Vasiliy showed up, I had goosebumps. He wore a plain mask with antlers, both hands were covered by bandage, and he was holding barbed wires. The audience had two contrasting reactions on his entrance, some cheered him while the others hooted in disapproval, but one thing was for sure, the world was almost when he took off the mask. It’s not exaggerated to say, Vasiliy had the most angelic face I had ever seen.

However, his moves were far from “angelic”. He hit Fulton right on belly several time with barbed wires twined around his hand, and then his face. I almost screamed in shock. Since I was close to the ring, the excitement on Vasiliy’s face was clear enough to make me sick.

“We shouldn’t let the fun end too soon, shall we?” the man chuckled, dumping one of the boxes which were set in the ring for their match. It’s a box of Lego blocks.

Fulton struggled to get up, but one foot stomped on his back maliciously. Grabbed a full hand of blocks, Vasiliy gave a harmless smile, then he forced Fulton to open his mouth, stuffed the blocks in and smashed his face to the ground.

My stomach twitched in agony. I knew wrestling match could be violent and wrestlers were trained to limit the hurt to opponents, but I could tell that Vasiliy’s doing was on purpose. He wanted hurt his opponent in the most painful way.

Although Fulton gained the upper hand later on and won the match, the prince was high, he almost collapsed due to multiple wounds and exhaustion. It hurt me to see him in such terrible shape, so I left auditorium and found my way to the backstage, all I wanted was to return to the locker room and hug my dreadlock bear.

But I ran into someone I shouldn’t. The black-haired man whom Sami referred as “plague” blocked my way, smiling innocently. The aura of him was like poisonous mist, whirling and tangling

“Vasiliy...”

I took one step back. The Crist brothers cautioned me against getting involved with him, plus what he did in the ring, he was the last person I wanna see now.

“My honor to be remembered by you.”

“It’s a... nice match” I said, against my will.

“I can imagine how much you loved to witness Fulton’s victory.” he giggled. “But I did have fun in making him bleed.”

The memory of him stuffing Lego blocks in Fulton’s mouth and smashing his face disgusted me. I wasn’t sure how this match went into such way, but that scene made my stomach twitched in agony. And now he said making Fulton bleed was “fun” with no regret? Was the personality and behavior he showed in the ring actually a reflection of himself in life?

I forced myself to be polite, “it’s late, I have to go...”

“To find your boyfriend?” he tipped his head a little, in the most harmless way I could imagine, but somehow I was alarmed. “Although joining this brand happened only weeks ago, I consider myself to be informed. I know Fulton loves you dearly. I’m quite curious: what if he loses you?”

I saw the excitement on his face, his smile twisted. He was serious.

Vasiliy’s eyes locked on me, “when I was seven, mother bought me a parakeet. She was beautiful and docile, I cherished her with my heart, but a stray cat killed it. Beautiful things never last long, do they?”

In the next moment, his hands were on my neck, I heard his sweet but malicious voice, “how adorable you are, I wonder what your scream sounds like.”

The strength pressed on was squeezing air out of me, I struggled, the suffering from suffocation and instinct for survival made me fight back for the slenderest hope, even though what I could do was nothing comparing his power.

“Scream, lil’ bird,” Vasiliy sneered, “or you prefer to suffer?”

Tears welled up from fear, it might be easier if I just screamed - he might let me go - but I could not let him win.

I attempted to get out of him by kicking and smacking, although I got him couple times, those attacks didn’t help me but instead stimulated his desire for destruction.

When I was about to give up, I heard Fulton’s furious roar, “you fucking leave her alone!”

The pressure on my neck was released, I was pulled into a firm embrace. Fulton had one arm locked me tightly, another arm was in defence posture. Based on how messed up Vasiliy looked, he already got punch on face from the mad dreadlock bear.

Stroking where Fulton hit, Vasiliy chuckled, “you’re almost late to save her. I was about to make her scream but she’s a tough one.”

Fulton gnashed, almost rushed out to give him another good punch, “you touch her again and I will break your fucking face, you hear me?!”

“‘Stupidity is also a gift of God, but one mustn’t misuse it’, you never know how naive you are, but it’s fine. We will meet again and have better game to play.” the angelic-looking man waved goodbye at me.

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you.” Fulton checked on me, “what else did he do?”

“Nothing besides strangling me.”

Unbuttoned my collar, Fulton’s face clouded over with anger. I was nervous, “what’s wrong?”

“You should see it by yourself.”

In the phone camera, I saw faint hand print on my neck.

“I’m gonna kill that scum...”

“He was serious about hurting me, but why? I didn’t even know him.”

“Vasiliy was new in the brand but he had feud with Sami in another brand, and it’s not only in rings. We act like crazy and bad dudes in the ring, but he is different. His personality in real life is what he shows in the ring.” Fulton wiped away my tears and patted my back, I saw how scared he was. He thought he would lose me.

“So he attacked me because I hang out with oVe?”

He nodded, whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“You did nothing wrong. And don’t think I’m gonna keep distance from you guys, because I like your friends and I will learn to protect myself. If Vasiliy ever does stupid thing again, I’ll kick him between legs hard.”

Chuckled, the dreadlock bear stroked my cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Yet I didn’t realize Vasiliy would become the most horrifying nightmare.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Red and Green Cloud prt 7 full draft

For the next two days after the storm, Keith was roped away to help with the clean up in town with his team, Marco and Jorge, while Lance spent the morning with his siblings and his own team cleaning up and doing chores around the farm, before getting into the Christmas spirit. All things considered it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Keith had gotten pretty jumpy when the weather had turned worse around the middle of the night, unable to settle down properly due to each loud crash of thunder. After how badly his husband's instincts had been affected, Lance hadn't wanted to seperate from him. He wanted to keep Keith close, show him there was nothing to fear, that no Galra ships were about to destroy everything his family held dear. Instead, he was on the team helping prepare for the Christmas party in town now that it was Christmas Eve. Being the biggest of them Luis would dress up as Santa and hand out presents to the kids from town. The rest of them would dress up as elves, and help to keep the peace. Dozens of children hyped up on sugar was bound to get rowdy. It wasn't helped by the copious amounts of Christmas cookies they were baking. With his home town trying to return to normal, they'd picked the tradition up again, now including aliens that had chosen to make Earth their home. Lance was somewhat ashamed to admit he'd spent the day drinking himself stupid as he'd stupidly mentally planned all these Christmases and holidays with Allura. All his stupid plans had wound up meaning nothing, Christmas even spent throwing up all over the bathroom. At the time he didn't want help... or want to admit he'd needed help. This year, he was going to be the best goddamn elf in the world. He'd already slipped a small present to Luis to hand out to Keith, and Marco had found a pair of reindeer ears for Kosmo to wear. Everything was going perfect. He just needed an excuse to slip off and change before Keith came back.

  Pulling out the tray of gingerbread... they were supposed to be gingerbread men, but "men" would be a very loose interpretation. They were more like gingerbread blobs. With little blobby legs and hands. He'd told Rachel she was adding too much self raising flour, especially when there was no self raising flour in the recipe. Maybe if they got creative with the icing sugar, they could pass them off as gingerbread aliens. Glancing up at the clock, it was nearing three o'clock. This Christmas thing would start at 5, run until about 8. Then they'd head clean up, head to the town house before midnight mass. His mami had assured him that he didn't need to come to Christmas morning mass, or midnight mass, but Keith had never done the church thing before, so he really wanted to share it with his husband at least once. He also wanted his team to experience what it was like in their church. The aunties wouldn't be at midnight mass, no, they'd be coming for lunch with their dreary expressions and judgmental gazes, which only served to make night mass more appealing.

  "Lance, stop looking at the clock. Keith will be back when he comes back"

Rolling his eyes at Rachel, it wasn't as if he didn't know that

"Leave him alone. He's a married man now"

Poking his tongue at Daehra, Daehra was attempting to teach Lucteal how to work a piping bag with no clue what she was doing either

"And whose fault is that? No, I want to go take a shower and change before Keith comes back"

"Don't you usually shower with him?"

Rachel choked as she went to laugh at Daehra, Marco looking up from the gingerbread house he was making to roll his eyes

"We don't need to know about what our little brother does with his husband. But Lance is right, we need to start getting changed. Why don't you go ahead, it'll give us time to question your team about what else you get up to"

"Like you didn't do that the other night over monopoly. I don't know if I'm ok with you all conspiring against me"

Daehra looked alarmed

"We are not conspiring"

"It's a joke, Dae. Rachel, you murdered this batch. You can ice them, I'm going to shower and change"

"Your costumes in the..."

"The living room. I know. I'll shower and come right back"

"Why don't you just shower here?"

Lance felt his cheeks dust red. There was a very good reason he wasn't showering and changing in the house

"Because they'll want hot water when they get back. Try not to destroy the house while I'm gone. And don't let Rachel near the dough mix..."

  Throwing the comment back over his shoulder, Lance rushed from the kitchen to grab the shirt and hat from the living room. It wasn't really a costume. Just a green shirt and pointed hat with ears... but Lance had more than that planned. He and Keith would have tonight after mass all the way through until roughly 10am the following day. So, he was a man with a plan that he knew might very well backfire... He didn't know what his husband would think, though he was hoping he wouldn't laugh at him. Not when it'd taken all the courage he'd been able to muster at the time to put his plan into motion. All he could do was roll the dice and the play the hand he was given... and if things went to quiznak, he'd be taking the first available wormhole off Earth, changing his name again, then going into hiding for the rest of his life which wouldn't be all that long given he'd be dead from embarrassment. He'd already left all his presents under the tree for the following day. They'd all have something to remember him by... if this all went horribly wrong.

     *

Manual labour felt good. The simple process of moving something from point A to B. It was easy and repetitive, yet he and his team were making a difference. The storm had hit the town harder than the farm. Houses had lost fences, gates, trees... but thankfully no one had been harmed. With four healthy part Galra chipping in, the work flew by. Streets cleared and rubbish taken out of town to be dumped. The way everyone came together warmed Keith's heart. Lance came from a strong and loving community... if not a slightly nosy one. Intergalactic media had shown up at the rumour of the former Black Paladin of Voltron was helping a small Cuban community after a storm... the very same community that the former Red Paladin came from. Whispers grew from mouth to mouth, before Keith knew what was happening, he was being asked to confirm rumours that he and Lance were dating. Without Lance there, all Keith could do was dodge the questions as his team hung him out to dry.

  When the cleanup work was done, Keith found himself somehow assisting in setting up for a Christmas party he'd never expected to be attending. He'd never heard of a town where someone dressed up as Santa and handed gifts to the children. Some were provided by the parents of the children, and others stores donated for poorer families. With all the love in the air, all Keith wanted to do was get home to Lance. They'd left the farm before nine, and now it was nearing 4. They'd worked all day. Every tick he'd thought he have the chance to check in with Lance, he was being summoned off to do something else. He'd probably annoyed his husband to his wits end as it was. The storm had really messed with his head, he hadn't been able to leave Lance's side that night... the night when he'd almost confessed the horrors of all those bad foster homes. Lance had held him tightly, both of them sleeping through dinner only to creep down in the middle of the night in a mess of soft laughter. That hadn't lasted long when the thunder had started up again, Keith dragging Lance back up to Rachel's old room to lock down the situation and make sure no one could get close to his husband.

  It was half past four by the time they finished up. Instead of returning to the farm, Lance and the others drove in to meet them all at the town house where Luis and Lisa lived. His husband looked both ridiculous and kind of cute as he marched around in an elf outfit giving orders. Tag teaming with them, they barely saw each other for longer than a few minutes before Lance was off to the party and he was sent to shower and change, relieved to find that he wasn't going to be wearing the same outfit as his husband. He most certainly wasn't an elf...

  Dressed in black jeans and a white button-up shirt, Keith felt over dressed until they arrived at the party. Most of the children were dressed up, with the girls in all sorts of pretty dresses, and boys with their hair slicked back by fussing parents of all different kinds of races. He didn't think aliens would be so into Christmas... Lance was already standing by a dressed up Luis who was posing for photos with children, by the looks of it his husband was taking details of everyone getting a photo. This was all something he had no experience with. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, or how he could help. He'd been working all day, stopping now seemed kind of a let down... besides, if Lance's family was running all of this, didn't that mean he got a job too?

  Jumping at the feeling of a wet nose brushing against his hand, Keith sighed as he looked down to see a sad looking Kosmo with reindeer ears on. His wolf looked confused and scared by all the kids around. Most of them would never have seen a wolf in their lives, let alone a space wolf

"Keith? What's wrong mijo?"

For the second time in as many ticks, Keith jumped. This time as Lance's mother carried over a beer to him

"Oh, hey Miriam... mami. Sorry, did it look like something was wrong?"

"You have been standing in the same spot for some time now. Doesn't Lance look cute?"

Lance looked like a lanky idiot as he waved his arms, talking to one of the parents of the kid on Luis's lap

"Yeah. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, no honey. You relax tonight. Lance is sending the photos Marco is taking to the families, and Rachel has the gift bags organised"

"Oh..."

What did he do then?

"You don't do well with relaxing, do you? Here, you take your beer and go sit yourself down with your team. They're not used to Earth Christmases are they?"

He wasn't either.

"Um... Mami, I don't know what to say. The only recent Christmases I've had was with Shiro and his ex-fiancé... and his brother. I've never done all of this"

  He'd been too old for all this "Christmas magic" business. With Shiro being sick, Adam would let them take their hoverbikes out for a few hours then it was home, Chinese takeaway and bad movies. Adam usually had work to catch up on, so did Shiro... so it was a weird kind of Christmas, without Santa... and cookies. It'd been everything to him at the time... but not what he'd call a true family Christmas like Lance would... but maybe it was? And this was just another type of family Christmas?

  "In that case, why don't you go stand with Lance if that makes you more comfortable. Once the photos are over, Marco will hand Lance presents to be handed out, he'll mark them off his list and hand them to Lu-Santa. All the kids will sit in a semi-circle in front of Santa, waiting for their names to be called out. The packs of cookies are for the children while us adults sit and eat, over where your teams are now. You did a wonderful job helping with the clean up. Jorge was bragging about you to his friends"

Lance's father bragged about him?

"He... he did?"

"Of course, mijo. He is very proud of you and we're both... so grateful that you have been there for our Lance. You've given us back our son"

Now his awkwardness level had gone up a step...

"Lance did all the hard work"

"We all need a little help, heavens knows Lance is quite stubborn over all the wrong things. He's so used to placing everyone ahead of himself. It's nice to see him finally pursuing something for himself"

"I think I was the one who did that was me"

"I'm certainly glad you did. Oooh, he's looking at us. I better let you go. I'm supposed to be over there... somewhere. I don't remember now. Dear me..."

  Rushing off, Miriam really did seem confused as to what she was going to do before coming to see him. With nothing else to do, and a staring husband, Keith patted his leg to tell Kosmo to follow as he walked over to join his husband... where he once again stood awkwardly. Lance was busy and he didn't want to interrupt... But quiznak... his husband looked hot as hell in work mode... and cute as hell when helped kids out of Luis's lap. Lance was amazing with children, his smile not wavering as he sent them off back to their parents with a smile. Would it be weird if he and Lance had kids some day? That was the whole reason Allura has changed Lance's biology for him... And quiznak, the beer he was drinking must have more alcohol than he realised in it because he definitely wasn't surrounded by kids while thinking about having kids with his husband. Nope. He wasn't doing that... Not about how adorable Lance was as a child, with those wide blue eyes... and that perpetually sun kissed skin... Nope. Nooo... now he was blushing... Stupid beer. This was all his husband's fault...

  As Lance turned to him, their eyes met. A cheeky smile as Lance waved his hand in front of his face

"Hello? Earth to Keith? You ok there?"

Catching Lance's hand, Keith couldn't help himself as he moved to capture the Cuban's lips in a loving kiss. Laughing as it broke, Lance's eyes seemed to sparkle

"There's kids watching"

"Sorry... I couldn't help myself"

"It's better than you standing there looking lost. If you want to sit down, I'll be up here for a while longer"

"No. I'm good. Plus, someone has to protect the reindeer"

"Ahhh. Kosmo didn't look too happy with his headband"

"It's probably all the kids. You saw how he reacted to Annla"

"I didn't think about that... my poor puppa"

  "Oi! Lovebirds, get back to work!"

Lance gave a snorted laugh, turning to poke his tongue out at Marco before turning back to him

"You heard the boss. If you want to go sit with everyone, that's fine. I'll be right here"

Again... Again he had nothing to do. He wasn't sure if Lance was being polite and attempting so send him away, or if he didn't mind either way

"No. No brow scrunching. I just don't want you being bored"

"I'm not bored. You... make a cute elf"

"I know... hmm, now that I think about it, you should definitely go sit down... We've got church tonight, and I might have something planned for after that"

"You have something planned?"

Lance shifted, looking a little flustered as he looked down at his holopad

"Yeah, so... go rest. Plus, you're really hot and it's starting to distract me"

"Fine. But I don't like doing nothing. If you need help, you'll call me over, won't you?"

"Yeah, babe. Now shoo. Marco is still glaring at us for interrupting his system"

Kissing Lance's cheek, Keith then forced himself away. A flustered Lance was simply too alluring

"I can't wait to find out what you have planned"

   Sitting with the remainder of their combined teams, Ezor had so far made a kid cry by popping her gum too loudly. Acxa wound up holding Lisa and Luis youngest, a pouty toddler by the name of Juana who kept grabbing for her ears. Zethrid seemed to be embracing her unknown maternal side as she repeatedly commented on the kids receiving their presents. Her words were gruff when comparing Galra gifts of weaponry to the toys from Earth. Lucteal growing bored of her and calling her out on the feelings he was picking up from her. It's promptly brought Ezor gum popping to the end. Zak was typing away on his laptop ignoring the stares from the children who'd never seen an alien like him, thought, to be fair, Keith hadn't seen anyone else like Zak out there. Missing from the group were Daehra and Tobias who'd been roped into playing with some kids and a soccer ball. Tobias so huge that he could easily block the ball from being stolen, leaving him confused as to how he was playing the game wrong. Everything was going well, until Keith heard his name called out... by Luis. Sitting in his Santa's throne, both Luis and a chorus of kids were all staring at him

"Former Black Paladin Keith! Keith my boy, where are you?! Santa has a present for you"

Taking his beer from him, Lisa appeared out of nowhere

"Up you go"

"Me? What?"

"Santa called your name silly"

"I'm an adult"

"And everyone is staring at you... go on"

  But... He was an adult. What the quiznak was happening here? And why was his heart doing all kinds of weird things as he nervously walked towards Luis. In the corner of his eye, he saw his husband shoot him the thumbs up. That little shit. He wanted to strangle him. God. Why was he so nervous? He was literally getting a present from Lance's brother... Stumbling over his own feet, "Santa" laughed as he approached

"Keith, my boy! Santa has heard all about your hard work. Come sit in Santa's lap"

What now? What... just because most of the kids had to pose for photos, didn't mean he had to... yet, when he reached Luis, he found himself pulled into his lap with one hand and a pressed pushed against him with another, then Marco popped up to take the photo

"How about it kids, Black Paladin Keith! Now Keith, what is it you want for Christmas?"

Whispering so only Luis could hear, he was blushing hard at all the attention

"To murder your brother"

Luis snorted with laughter, nearly breaking character in front of the staring children. Coughing and clearing his throat, the man waved his free hand

"Hear that boys and girls! Keith says he wants us all to be happy! Now off you go Keith!"

  Sent back to his seat, Keith was in a daze. Laughing happily at him, Ezor went to swipe his present only for Lucteal to stop her

"Lance picked his gifts for Keith carefully. Leave him alone"

Lucteal sticking up for him was some kind of Christmas miracle in it's self

"Keith, are you alright?"

Placing his beer back in front of him, Lisa placed her hand on his shoulder. Looking up at the woman, he didn't know what to say

"What the quiznak just happened?"

"Lance has as in with Santa. I heard him telling the big man you've been good this year"

It still wasn't quite registering. Something in his brain was mad at Lance. Something in his brain felt embarrassed over being called up. And something in the back of his brain was also irrationally saying "Holy quiznak, Santa knows my name". These three tiny thoughts went a long way to explaining why his eyes were wet. Dropping his gaze back to the present in front of him, he stared at the sparkly red paper, nearly tied with a green ribbon

"Go ahead and open it. Your elf has a few more duties to do. Merry Christmas, Keith"

"I... thank you. Merry Christmas Lisa"

  It wasn't a huge present. No bigger than a shoe box. Keith's hands shaking slightly as his tugged the ribbon undone, well aware that more than a few eyes were on him. Kids. Team members. A confused Kosmo. Adults he didn't know. Probably Lance if had the bravery to turn around. Pushing the paper back, he laughed at the vintage hand held game console. He could remember being a kid, when these were as popular as hell. Of course, all the other kids at school had them. He'd called them stupid, and babies for playing with them to hide his own jealousy...

  "What is it?"

Peering over his shoulder, Lisa laughed

"I remember those! Luis was bitter for years that he had to share one between the five of them. I wonder how he got his hands on it"

"I have no idea. I thought most things like that were destroyed?"

Keith may have been ever so very awe struck as he pulled the game console box out of the box Lance had wrapped it in. Undoing the end, his awe only grew as he slid the plastic packaging out to reveal the red console. This was better than good. It was... He had no words

"Wow. It looks in amazing condition..."

 As Acxa leaned in to suss out his present, Keith pushed it back in to the box, snatching it up to his chest

"Nope. It's mine. I'm not sharing"

"It's just a game console"

"It's not just anything. Do you have any idea how popular these were? You were like the coolest kid ever if you had one"

"Keith is right. Even I remember them. It must have... what? 10-15 years ago?"

Nodding, Keith stared down at his precious present. How could Lance possibly know? He didn't even know he was still holding a grudge over never one, not until he finally got one for himself... He needed Lance. He was about to cry... Shiro had loved him. They were brothers until the very end of time... but Lance... Lance truly understood and loved him... As far as he could remember, he'd never sat on "Santa's" knee... or been to party like this... or... No. He needed to find his husband

"Keith, are you alright?"

"He's fine. He's really happy right now. It's kind of annoying"

Lucteal sounded bored, Keith not giving two shits if he was being rude. Pushing his chair back, he kept his present close to him as rose and slipped past Lisa.

  Standing near the throne still, Lance wasn't expecting the near crash tackle as Keith hit him with enough force to knock him back into the decorated tree behind the throne. Sniffling, he held his gift to his chest with one hand and looped his free arm around his husband's shoulders, fingers gripping Lance's hair as he buried his face against his shoulder. Slowly, his husband wrapped his arms around him

"Babe, what's wrong? You're crying"

"Thank you... I... thank you. I love you so fucking much... I..."

Nuzzling into his hair, Lance pressed kisses just above his ear

"I love you too, Keith. I love you, and you are more than welcome. I was a little scared when you came charging over here"

"I... all the kids..."

Lance laughed softly

"I wanted to give you good Christmas memories..."

"No... yes... but... I never had this as a kid. I really wanted one, but if I asked... there was no point"

"Oh, babe. Hey. I had to share one with my siblings. When I saw them in an Earth store, I nearly couldn't believe it. I found myself buying red things, but I was always thinking of you and that red jacket. I'm happy you like it. I hope you don't mind I kind of opened it to make sure it worked"

Keith hadn't even considered the fact that it might not, but knowing it did opened a whole new world of opportunities

"I... thank you. It's perfect"

"You're perfect. You're also squashing an elf in front of children"

"Oh!"

  Keith's face was a mess when he stepped back so Lance was no longer squashed against the tree. With his hand still on the back of Lance's neck he was forced to step forward. Keith sniffling loudly as he tried to calm down

"You're a mess babe"

"Sorry"

Letting his hold go, Lance moved his hands to his face, wiping the tear tracks down his cheeks with a smile

"No. I'm happy you're so happy. I wasn't sure... I thought it might be too dorky"

"It is the perfect amount of dorky. You're the perfect amount of dorky"

"Merry Christmas, Keith"

"Thank you... I got you something too. But you'll have to wait until tomorrow now"

Lance raised an eyebrow

"You think this is your only Christmas gift?"

It wasn't? Moving his head slightly, it was Keith's turn to be confused

"You mean..."

"Oh babe. You literally married into the wrong family. 5 of us. 6 with Lisa. Mami and papi. Your team. My team. My grandparents... oooh, you haven't met pop-pop. He's going to try give you tequila, and my abuela. She's likely to stab me with her knitting needle for not introducing you sooner... They always give us 10 peso notes, with a cheeky smile and a wink. So I don't know if you count that as a gift... but babe, you need to prepare for tomorrow"

  Presents. Actual presents from multiple people. His mind couldn't comprehend. Sure, not all homes had been awful, but those memories faded faster than the bad ones

"I didn't... I mean..."

"I know you got gifts for Mami and papi. I was there. And when we got the gifts for the others. I promise you, they know it's from both of us and that you went to the effort of asking me. Seriously, Marco is so easy you could give him a sock and he'd be happy"

  "Marco also takes large donations of unmarked bills. Lance, can I have the holopad? So I can start sending out those photos?"

Marco's voice came out of nowhere, Lance sighing as he turned his head to look at his brother

"An elf's work is never done. It's by the throne. I set up the facial recognition program, so all they should all be sorted into who is who for those who got second photos taken"

"I hope I didn't get any of your ugly mug in there. It'd break the whole system"

Keith growled as Marco insulted his husband. Laughing, Lance just shook his head

"I'm too beautiful for this. Come on, babe. Let's go join the others?"

Keith didn't want to join the others. He wanted to rush back to the Telula and play his game... buuut... he had to at least pretend to be an adult until they got home

"Yeah... yeah..."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to take your game away. I've been watching you all night and I had to wait all day to hold you again. Right now, I want to get off my feet and wrap my arms around you"

It wasn't Marco's fault he was so forgettable. All it took was Lance's big blue eyes and warm hold

"You guys are gross! I'm telling Mami I saw Keith kissing an elf in the bushes if you don't get out the way already"

"You want to see something extra gross?"

  Marco didn't stand a chance. Lance was in a shit stirring mood. Without warning, his husband jumped up and wrapped his legs around his waist, holding himself there as Keith was left to scramble to slip his free arm under his husband's arse to hold him. With both hands on his cheeks, the kiss was deep but over too fast. Probably so as not to scare the children. Keeping himself stable, Lance didn't move once it broke and Keith was confused all over again

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No. I jumped without thinking. I was worried if I moved I'd damage your present"

Lance had tried to curve around the box, even if he'd jumped up without thinking. Pulling it up to sit higher against his chest, he smiled knowing that it wasn't damaged

"I think we're good"

"I think we should sit. I've broken Marco"

"That I can do"

"Oooh. My big strong husband..."

"Damn straight"

"Actually, you're gay..."

Giggling his head off, Keith could only roll his eyes at Lance as he started back to where he'd been sitting with everyone else before.

 This new family Christmas thing was weird. It was scary... daunting and left him kind of nauseous with anxiety when he stopped to think about it too much, but somehow Lance was pulling down walls he didn't know still existed and easing his soul in only a way his dorky arse husband could.

[its-negans-lucille]

Bertha

You can find my Masterlist HERE!

Prompt: Hey, could you do an imagine where the reader is a savior and used to be a model before the apocalypse and while on a supply run a few of the saviors find a magazine with one of her sexy photoshoots (or something) and show Negan (something like that) – Via @sheehan33

Ships: Negan x Reader Words: 1,223 Warnings: Curses, mentions of smut, mentions of sexy costume (???) Category: Fluff

***

You were sat on your lumpy and uncomfortable bed, binding your leg from where you had snagged it earlier that morning when on a supply run. You were bathed in moonlight as you worked. There was a discarded pile of bandages beside you, crimson stained and beginning to smell. You bound your leg tightly with the bandages and a few minutes later you dubbed your leg presentable and you stood up with a small grunt of pain. The wound was still rather tender.

You moved to pick up the dirty bandages from off your dusty floor when you heard a knock from your door. You stood up straight and stared at the door quizzically, thinking to yourself who would be calling at this hour.

You crossed the room, picking up your pistol as you went as you could never be too safe in these dangerous times.  You cocked the gun and held it aloft as you cautiously opened the door.

In the doorway stood Negan’s lean form that was leant up against your doorframe as he flicked through pages of a magazine idly. You could spy a smug and excited smile on his face beneath his salt and pepper scruff.

“Jesus Christ, Negan.” You exclaimed as you lowered your gun, hurriedly flicking the safety as you went. “A bit late for a call, isn’t it?” You asked. You looked at Negan with a suspicious and scrutinizing gaze as he continued to smile his unnervingly white smile. “I guess you can come in?” You said uncertainly as you backed into your room and began to clean up the dirty bandages that littered the floor.

You and Negan had fucked before, it was true. It was when you had first arrived at the Sanctuary and you knew no better and in your mind you thought that getting with the boss would be a good thing. And it was, to a certain extent at least. He was good, better than most men that you’d been with but when he had tried to get you to join his harem you had to decline. From then on it had been an on and off thing where he would occasionally come to you and ask for a fuck and you would tease him a little but always give in. Every time you left him wanting more.

But tonight you were tired and all you wanted to do was sleep.

“Did I ever ask you what you were before the apocalypse?” Negan asked in a light hearted tone that was supposed to put you at ease but on the contrary it put you distinctly on edge. You didn’t let it show though.

“A model.” You said in a falsely casual tone as you continued to collect bloodstained bandages, busying yourself so you didn’t have to meet Negan’s gaze.

“Oh, really?” Negan replied. You could practically hear the smirk on his lips as you continued to avoid his eyes. You could feel his intense gaze on you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and giving you the distinct feeling of being x-rayed. “What kind of model?” Negan persisted.

You spun around, your arms crossed over your chest which was heaving. “Why the hell do you care-” You started saying in an agitated tone when you spied the magazine that Negan was holding and then the triumphant look on his face made sense. “Where the hell did you get that?” You asked in an incredulous tone as you dropped the bandages which fell to the floor with a mundane thud.

“Ryan found it out on a run.” Negan said with a sly smile as he stopped at one particular page. “Few! Look at you! Is it hot in here or is it just me?!” Negan exclaimed in a taunting tone as he mimed fanning himself with the magazine.

“Goddammit.” You cursed under your breath as you crossed the room toward Negan. “Give it to me.” You said in a commanding tone as you held your hand out and place your other hand on your hip.

“I wonder where I could find this outfit, or lack thereof. I always fancied getting with a nurse.” Negan said with a wink in reference to the page he was looking at.

You groaned and gritted your teeth as you remembered the sexy nurse outfit that you had been told to put on for the shoot. The outfit had been two stethoscopes with each disk-like resonator strategically placed over your nipples leaving the rest of your breasts exposed, a small, very nearly sheer skirt and a nurse’s hat. You cringed and shook your head at what you had done for a little money. The outfit left nothing to the imagination.

“How about you go ask the doc to go find you a few and you can see the outfit in real life!” You said feebly as you made a grab at the magazine but Negan easily held the magazine high above your head.

“No, nope. No fucking way! I am having far too much fun!” Negan exclaimed as he took a step back so you wouldn’t knock him over. “I want to learn more about your alter ego. . .” Negan peeked at the magazine and let out a bark of laughter. “Breasty Bertha!” Negan exclaimed in mirth as he slapped his knees and wheezed with laughter.

You took this opportunity to jump up and snatch the magazine from Negan.

It took Negan a minute to realize that you had taken his precious magazine. He stood up straight and wiped tears from his intense, grey, eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’m done, I’m going.” Negan said in weak voice as he backed toward the door. Before he could leave he turned around and asked. “Breasty Bertha? Really? That is so fucking cliché!” Negan ducked down as to avoid a pillow being thrown at his head.

“Get out!” You yelled, though there was no true malice too it.

“Fine, fine!” Negan said and he was half way out the door when he turned around.

“What now?” You asked as you began to gather up your bandages again.

“Y’know I’m kidding right?” Negan asked. You almost mistook this remark for him caring.

“Yes, yes, I know.” You smiled weakly. “I’m just tired.” You continued. “And if I were in a better mood I’d make you shut up, though you’d moan a little.” You said at an attempt at your usual charisma.

“That’s my girl.” Negan winked. “Also! Can I have the magazine back? Since I won’t be having the real beauty at least let little Negan,” He indicated his crotch. “Have a good night with Breasty Bertha.” Negan said with a pout though there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Fine!” You exclaimed as you crossed the room to meet him. “But you better take these with you.” You dumped your dirty bandages into his arms along with your magazine. “And show no one.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know, I know.” Negan said as he began flicking through the pages while he backed out the room.

“You hear me?!” You yelled after him.

“Okay!” Negan called back and before you shut the door you heard him yell. “Okay, Breasty Bertha.”

In that moment you knew that you would never hear the end of this.

***

Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed! I want to apologise for the wait!! I’ve been sick and school and just sorry!

Also, announcement, my requests are officially open! You can find the most where I talk about the terms for them HERE! (please read terms before requesting)

Thank you all so much for reading and have a great day!

Tag List:

@sc1525 @lilablauerhimmel @shawn-and-aiden-frost-9 @ali-pennell @wishfulwinona @jeffrcy @mrsnegan25 @petlaufeyson @isoldmysoulforspn @girlygreenie @thewhisperingfox @ninjacuddlepile @deeinthedarkwonderland

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Red and Green Cloud prt 6 draft

For the next two days after the storm, Keith was roped away to help with the clean up in town with his team, Marco and Jorge, while Lance spent the morning with his siblings and his own team cleaning up and doing chores around the farm, before getting into the Christmas spirit. All things considered it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Keith had gotten pretty jumpy when the weather had turned worse around the middle of the night, unable to settle down properly due to each loud crash of thunder. After how badly his husband's instincts had been affected, Lance hadn't wanted to seperate from him. He wanted to keep Keith close, show him there was nothing to fear, that no Galra ships were about to destroy everything his family held dear. Instead, he was on the team helping prepare for the Christmas party in town now that it was Christmas Eve. Being the biggest of them Luis would dress up as Santa and hand out presents to the kids from town. The rest of them would dress up as elves, and help to keep the peace. Dozens of children hyped up on sugar was bound to get rowdy. It wasn't helped by the copious amounts of Christmas cookies they were baking. With his home town trying to return to normal, they'd picked the tradition up again, now including aliens that had chosen to make Earth their home. Lance was somewhat ashamed to admit he'd spent the day drinking himself stupid as he'd stupidly mentally planned all these Christmases and holidays with Allura. All his stupid plans had wound up meaning nothing, Christmas even spent throwing up all over the bathroom. At the time he didn't want help... or want to admit he'd needed help. This year, he was going to be the best goddamn elf in the world. He'd already slipped a small present to Luis to hand out to Keith, and Marco had found a pair of reindeer ears for Kosmo to wear. Everything was going perfect. He just needed an excuse to slip off and change before Keith came back.

  Pulling out the tray of gingerbread... they were supposed to be gingerbread men, but "men" would be a very loose interpretation. They were more like gingerbread blobs. With little blobby legs and hands. He'd told Rachel she was adding too much self raising flour, especially when there was no self raising flour in the recipe. Maybe if they got creative with the icing sugar, they could pass them off as gingerbread aliens. Glancing up at the clock, it was nearing three o'clock. This Christmas thing would start at 5, run until about 8. Then they'd head clean up, head to the town house before midnight mass. His mami had assured him that he didn't need to come to Christmas morning mass, or midnight mass, but Keith had never done the church thing before, so he really wanted to share it with his husband at least once. He also wanted his team to experience what it was like in their church. The aunties wouldn't be at midnight mass, no, they'd be coming for lunch with their dreary expressions and judgmental gazes, which only served to make night mass more appealing.

  "Lance, stop looking at the clock. Keith will be back when he comes back"

Rolling his eyes at Rachel, it wasn't as if he didn't know that

"Leave him alone. He's a married man now"

Poking his tongue at Daehra, Daehra was attempting to teach Lucteal how to work a piping bag with no clue what she was doing either

"And whose fault is that? No, I want to go take a shower and change before Keith comes back"

"Don't you usually shower with him?"

Rachel choked as she went to laugh at Daehra, Marco looking up from the gingerbread house he was making to roll his eyes

"We don't need to know about what our little brother does with his husband. But Lance is right, we need to start getting changed. Why don't you go ahead, it'll give us time to question your team about what else you get up to"

"Like you didn't do that the other night over monopoly. I don't know if I'm ok with you all conspiring against me"

Daehra looked alarmed

"We are not conspiring"

"It's a joke, Dae. Rachel, you murdered this batch. You can ice them, I'm going to shower and change"

"Your costumes in the..."

"The living room. I know. I'll shower and come right back"

"Why don't you just shower here?"

Lance felt his cheeks dust red. There was a very good reason he wasn't showering and changing in the house

"Because they'll want hot water when they get back. Try not to destroy the house while I'm gone. And don't let Rachel near the dough mix..."

  Throwing the comment back over his shoulder, Lance rushed from the kitchen to grab the shirt and hat from the living room. It wasn't really a costume. Just a green shirt and pointed hat with ears... but Lance had more than that planned. He and Keith would have tonight after mass all the way through until roughly 10am the following day. So, he was a man with a plan that he knew might very well backfire... He didn't know what his husband would think, though he was hoping he wouldn't laugh at him. Not when it'd taken all the courage he'd been able to muster at the time to put his plan into motion. All he could do was roll the dice and the play the hand he was given... and if things went to quiznak, he'd be taking the first available wormhole off Earth, changing his name again, then going into hiding for the rest of his life which wouldn't be all that long given he'd be dead from embarrassment. He'd already left all his presents under the tree for the following day. They'd all have something to remember him by... if this all went horribly wrong.

     *

Manual labour felt good. The simple process of moving something from point A to B. It was easy and repetitive, yet he and his team were making a difference. The storm had hit the town harder than the farm. Houses had lost fences, gates, trees... but thankfully no one had been harmed. With four healthy part Galra chipping in, the work flew by. Streets cleared and rubbish taken out of town to be dumped. The way everyone came together warmed Keith's heart. Lance came from a strong and loving community... if not a slightly nosy one. Intergalactic media had shown up at the rumour of the former Black Paladin of Voltron was helping a small Cuban community after a storm... the very same community that the former Red Paladin came from. Whispers grew from mouth to mouth, before Keith knew what was happening, he was being asked to confirm rumours that he and Lance were dating. Without Lance there, all Keith could do was dodge the questions as his team hung him out to dry.

  When the cleanup work was done, Keith found himself somehow assisting in setting up for a Christmas party he'd never expected to be attending. He'd never heard of a town where someone dressed up as Santa and handed gifts to the children. Some were provided by the parents of the children, and others stores donated for poorer families. With all the love in the air, all Keith wanted to do was get home to Lance. They'd left the farm before nine, and now it was nearing 4. They'd worked all day. Every tick he'd thought he have the chance to check in with Lance, he was being summoned off to do something else. He'd probably annoyed his husband to his wits end as it was. The storm had really messed with his head, he hadn't been able to leave Lance's side that night... the night when he'd almost confessed the horrors of all those bad foster homes. Lance had held him tightly, both of them sleeping through dinner only to creep down in the middle of the night in a mess of soft laughter. That hadn't lasted long when the thunder had started up again, Keith dragging Lance back up to Rachel's old room to lock down the situation and make sure no one could get close to his husband.

  It was half past four by the time they finished up. Instead of returning to the farm, Lance and the others drove in to meet them all at the town house where Luis and Lisa lived. His husband looked both ridiculous and kind of cute as he marched around in an elf outfit giving orders. Tag teaming with them, they barely saw each other for longer than a few minutes before Lance was off to the party and he was sent to shower and change, relieved to find that he wasn't going to be wearing the same outfit as his husband. He most certainly wasn't an elf...

  Dressed in black jeans and a white button-up shirt, Keith felt over dressed until they arrived at the party. Most of the children were dressed up, with the girls in all sorts of pretty dresses, and boys with their hair slicked back by fussing parents. Lance was already standing by a dressed up Luis who was posing for photos with children, by the looks of it his husband was taking details of everyone getting a photo. This was all something he had no experience with. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, or how he could help. He'd been working all day, stopping now seemed kind of a let down... besides, if Lance's family was running all of this, didn't that mean he got a job too?

  Jumping at the feeling of a wet nose brushing against his hand, Keith sighed as he looked down to see a sad looking Kosmo with reindeer ears on. His wolf looked confused and scared by all the kids around. Most of them would never have seen a wolf in their lives, let alone a space wolf

"Keith? What's wrong mijo?"

For the second time in as many ticks, Keith jumped. This time as Lance's mother carried over a beer to him

"Oh, hey Miriam... mami. Sorry, did it look like something was wrong?"

"You have been standing in the same spot for some time now. Doesn't Lance look cute?"

Lance looked like a lanky idiot as he waved his arms, talking to one of the parents of the kid on Luis's lap

"Yeah. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, no honey. You relax tonight. Lance is sending the photos Marco is taking to the families, and Rachel has the gift bags organised"

"Oh..."

What did he do then?

"You don't do well with relaxing, do you? Here, you take your beer and go sit yourself down with your team. They're not used to Earth Christmases are they?"

He wasn't either.

"Um... Mami, I don't know what to say. The only recent Christmases I've had was with Shiro and his ex-fiancé... and his brother. I've never done all of this"

  He'd been too old for all this "Christmas magic" business. With Shiro being sick, Adam would let them take their hoverbikes out for a few hours then it was home, Chinese takeaway and bad movies. Adam usually had work to catch up on, so did Shiro... so it was a weird kind of Christmas, without Santa... and cookies. It'd been everything to him at the time... but not what he'd call a true family Christmas like Lance would... but maybe it was? And this was just another type of family Christmas?

  "In that case, why don't you go stand with Lance if that makes you more comfortable. Once the photos are over, Marco will hand Lance presents to be handed out, he'll mark them off his list and hand them to Lu-Santa. All the kids will sit in a semi-circle in front of Santa, waiting for their names to be called out. The packs of cookies are for the children while us adults sit and eat, over where your teams are now. You did a wonderful job helping with the clean up. Jorge was bragging about you to his friends"

Lance's father bragged about him?

"He... he did?"

"Of course, mijo. He is very proud of you and we're both... so grateful that you have been there for our Lance. You've given us back our son"

Now his awkwardness level had gone up a step...

"Lance did all the hard work"

"We all need a little help, heavens knows Lance is quite stubborn over all the wrong things. He's so used to placing everyone ahead of himself. It's nice to see him finally pursuing something for himself"

"I think I was the one who did that was me"

"I'm certainly glad you did. Oooh, he's looking at us. I better let you go. I'm supposed to be over there... somewhere. I don't remember now. Dear me..."

  Rushing off, Miriam really did seem confused as to what she was going to do before coming to see him. With nothing else to do, and a staring husband, Keith patted his leg to tell Kosmo to follow as he walked over to join his husband... where he once again stood awkwardly. Lance was busy and he didn't want to interrupt... But quiznak... his husband looked hot as hell in work mode... and cute as hell when helped kids out of Luis's lap. Lance was amazing with children, his smile not wavering as he sent them off back to their parents with a smile. Would it be weird if he and Lance had kids some day? That was the whole reason Allura has changed Lance's biology for him... And quiznak, the beer he was drinking must have more alcohol than he realised in it because he definitely wasn't surrounded by kids while thinking about having kids with his husband. Nope. He wasn't doing that... Not about how adorable Lance was as a child, with those wide blue eyes... and that perpetually sun kissed skin... Nope. Nooo... now he was blushing... Stupid beer. This was all his husband's fault...

  As Lance turned to him, their eyes met. A cheeky smile as Lance waved his hand in front of his face

"Hello? Earth to Keith? You ok there?"

Catching Lance's hand, Keith couldn't help himself as he moved to capture the Cuban's lips in a loving kiss. Laughing as it broke, Lance's eyes seemed to sparkle

"There's kids watching"

"Sorry... I couldn't help myself"

"It's better than you standing there looking lost. If you want to sit down, I'll be up here for a while longer"

"No. I'm good. Plus, someone has to protect the reindeer"

"Ahhh. Kosmo didn't look too happy with his headband"

"It's probably all the kids. You saw how he reacted to Annla"

"I didn't think about that... my poor puppa"

  "Oi! Lovebirds, get back to work!"

Lance gave a snorted laugh, turning to poke his tongue out at Marco before turning back to him

"You heard the boss. If you want to go sit with everyone, that's fine. I'll be right here"

Again... Again he had nothing to do. He wasn't sure if Lance was being polite and attempting so send him away, or if he didn't mind either way

"No. No brow scrunching. I just don't want you being bored"

"I'm not bored. You... make a cute elf"

"I know... hmm, now that I think about it, you should definitely go sit down... We've got church tonight, and I might have something planned for after that"

"You have something planned?"

Lance shifted, looking a little flustered as he looked down at his holopad

"Yeah, so... go rest. Plus, you're really hot and it's starting to distract me"

"Fine. But I don't like doing nothing. If you need help, you'll call me over, won't you?"

"Yeah, babe. Now shoo. Marco is still glaring at us for interrupting his system"

Kissing Lance's cheek, Keith then forced himself away. A flustered Lance was simply too alluring

"I can't wait to find out what you have planned"

   Sitting with the remainder of their combined teams, Ezor had so far made a kid cry by popping her gum too loudly. Acxa wound up holding Lisa and Luis youngest, a pouty toddler by the name of Juana who kept grabbing for her ears. Zethrid seemed to be embracing her unknown maternal side as she repeatedly commented on the kids receiving their presents. Her words were gruff when comparing Galra gifts of weaponry to the toys from Earth. Lucteal growing bored of her and calling her out on the feelings he was picking up from her. It's promptly brought Ezor gum popping to the end. Zak was typing away on his laptop ignoring the stares from the children who'd never seen an alien like him, thought, to be fair, Keith hadn't seen anyone else like Zak out there. Missing from the group were Daehra and Tobias who'd been roped into playing with some kids and a soccer ball. Tobias so huge that he could easily block the ball from being stolen, leaving him confused as to how he was playing the game wrong. Everything was going well, until Keith heard his name called out... by Luis. Sitting in his Santa's throne, both Luis and a chorus of kids were all staring at him

"Former Black Paladin Keith! Keith my boy, where are you?! Santa has a present for you"

Taking his beer from him, Lisa appeared out of nowhere

"Up you go"

"Me? What?"

"Santa called your name silly"

"I'm an adult"

"And everyone is staring at you... go on"

  But... He was an adult. What the quiznak was happening here? And why was his heart doing all kinds of weird things as he nervously walked towards Luis. In the corner of his eye, he saw his husband shoot him the thumbs up. That little shit. He wanted to strangle him. God. Why was he so nervous? He was literally getting a present from Lance's brother... Stumbling over his own feet, "Santa" laughed as he approached

"Keith, my boy! Santa has heard all about your hard work. Come sit in Santa's lap"

What now? What... just because most of the kids had to pose for photos, didn't mean he had to... yet, when he reached Luis, he found himself pulled into his lap with one hand and a pressed pushed against him with another, then Marco popped up to take the photo

"How about it kids, Black Paladin Keith! Now Keith, what is it you want for Christmas?"

Whispering so only Luis could hear, he was blushing hard at all the attention

"To murder your brother"

Luis snorted with laughter, nearly breaking character in front of the staring children. Coughing and clearing his throat, the man waved his free hand

"Hear that boys and girls! Keith says he wants us all to be happy! Now off you go Keith!"

  Sent back to his seat, Keith was in a daze. Laughing happily at him, Ezor went to swipe his present only for Lucteal to stop her

"Lance picked his gifts for Keith carefully. Leave him alone"

Lucteal sticking up for him was some kind of Christmas miracle in it's self

"Keith, are you alright?"

Placing his beer back in front of him, Lisa placed her hand on his shoulder. Looking up at the woman, he didn't know what to say

"What the quiznak just happened?"

"Lance has as in with Santa. I heard him telling the big man you've been good this year"

It still wasn't quite registering. Something in his brain was mad at Lance. Something in his brain felt embarrassed over being called up. And something in the back of his brain was also irrationally saying "Holy quiznak, Santa knows my name". These three tiny thoughts went a long way to explaining why his eyes were wet. Dropping his gaze back to the present in front of him, he stared at the sparkly red paper, nearly tied with a green ribbon

"Go ahead and open it. Your elf has a few more duties to do. Merry Christmas, Keith"

"I... thank you. Merry Christmas Lisa"

  It wasn't a huge present. No bigger than a shoe box. Keith's hands shaking slightly as his tugged the ribbon undone, well aware that more than a few eyes were on him. Kids. Team members. A confused Kosmo. Adults he didn't know. Probably Lance if had the bravery to turn around. Pushing the paper back, he laughed at the vintage hand held game console. He could remember being a kid, when these were as popular as hell. Of course, all the other kids at school had them. He'd called them stupid, and babies for playing with them to hide his own jealousy...

  "What is it?"

Peering over his shoulder, Lisa laughed

"I remember those! Luis was bitter for years that he had to share one between the five of them. I wonder how he got his hands on it"

"I have no idea. I thought most things like that were destroyed?"

Keith may have been ever so very awe struck as he pulled the game console box out of the box Lance had wrapped it in. Undoing the end, his awe only grew as he slid the plastic packaging out to reveal the red console. This was better than good. It was... He had no words

"Wow. It looks in amazing condition..."

 As Acxa leaned in to suss out his present, Keith pushed it back in to the box, snatching it up to his chest

"Nope. It's mine. I'm not sharing"

"It's just a game console"

"It's not just anything. Do you have any idea how popular these were? You were like the coolest kid ever if you had one"

"Keith is right. Even I remember them. It must have... what? 10-15 years ago?"

Nodding, Keith stared down at his precious present. How could Lance possibly know? He didn't even know he was still holding a grudge over never one, not until he finally got one for himself... He needed Lance. He was about to cry... Shiro had loved him. They were brothers until the very end of time... but Lance... Lance truly understood and loved him... As far as he could remember, he'd never sat on "Santa's" knee... or been to party like this... or... No. He needed to find his husband

"Keith, are you alright?"

"He's fine. He's really happy right now. It's kind of annoying"

Lucteal sounded bored, Keith not giving two shits if he was being rude. Pushing his chair back, he kept his present close to him as rose and slipped past Lisa.

  Standing near the throne still, Lance wasn't expecting the near crash tackle as Keith hit him with enough force to knock him back into the decorated tree behind the throne. Sniffling, he held his gift to his chest with one hand and looped his free arm around his husband's shoulders, fingers gripping Lance's hair as he buried his face against his shoulder. Slowly, his husband wrapped his arms around him

"Babe, what's wrong? You're crying"

"Thank you... I... thank you. I love you so fucking much... I..."

Nuzzling into his hair, Lance pressed kisses just above his ear

"I love you too, Keith. I love you, and you are more than welcome. I was a little scared when you came charging over here"

"I... all the kids..."

Lance laughed softly

"I wanted to give you good Christmas memories..."

"No... yes... but... I never had this as a kid. I really wanted one, but if I asked... there was no point"

"Oh, babe. Hey. I had to share one with my siblings. When I saw them in an Earth store, I nearly couldn't believe it. I found myself buying red things, but I was always thinking of you and that red jacket. I'm happy you like it. I hope you don't mind I kind of opened it to make sure it worked"

Keith hadn't even considered the fact that it might not, but knowing it did opened a whole new world of opportunities

"I... thank you. It's perfect"

"You're perfect. You're also squashing an elf in front of children"

"Oh!"

  Keith's face was a mess when he stepped back so Lance was no longer squashed against the tree. With his hand still on the back of Lance's neck he was forced to step forward. Keith sniffling loudly as he tried to calm down

"You're a mess babe"

"Sorry"

Letting his hold go, Lance moved his hands to his face, wiping the tear tracks down his cheeks with a smile

"No. I'm happy you're so happy. I wasn't sure... I thought it might be too dorky"

"It is the perfect amount of dorky. You're the perfect amount of dorky"

"Merry Christmas, Keith"

"Thank you... I got you something too. But you'll have to wait until tomorrow now"

Lance raised an eyebrow

"You think this is your only Christmas gift?"

It wasn't? Moving his head slightly, it was Keith's turn to be confused

"You mean..."

"Oh babe. You literally married into the wrong family. 5 of us. 6 with Lisa. Mami and papi. Your team. My team. My grandparents... oooh, you haven't met pop-pop. He's going to try give you tequila, and my abuela. She's likely to stab me with her knitting needle for not introducing you sooner... They always give us 10 peso notes, with a cheeky smile and a wink. So I don't know if you count that as a gift... but babe, you need to prepare for tomorrow"

  Presents. Actual presents from multiple people. His mind couldn't comprehend. Sure, not all homes had been awful, but those memories faded faster than the bad ones

"I didn't... I mean..."

"I know you got gifts for Mami and papi. I was there. And when we got the gifts for the others. I promise you, they know it's from both of us and that you went to the effort of asking me. Seriously, Marco is so easy you could give him a sock and he'd be happy"

  "Marco also takes large donations of unmarked bills. Lance, can I have the holopad? So I can start sending out those photos?"

Marco's voice came out of nowhere, Lance sighing as he turned his head to look at his brother

"An elf's work is never done. It's by the throne. I set up the facial recognition program, so all they should all be sorted into who is who for those who got second photos taken"

"I hope I didn't get any of your ugly mug in there. It'd break the whole system"

Keith growled as Marco insulted his husband. Laughing, Lance just shook his head

"I'm too beautiful for this. Come on, babe. Let's go join the others?"

Keith didn't want to join the others. He wanted to rush back to the Telula and play his game... buuut... he had to at least pretend to be an adult until they got home

"Yeah... yeah..."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to take your game away. I've been watching you all night and I had to wait all day to hold you again. Right now, I want to get off my feet and wrap my arms around you"

It wasn't Marco's fault he was so forgettable. All it took was Lance's big blue eyes and warm hold

"You guys are gross! I'm telling Mami I saw Keith kissing an elf in the bushes if you don't get out the way already"

"You want to see something extra gross?"

  Marco didn't stand a chance. Lance was in a shit stirring mood. Without warning, his husband jumped up and wrapped his legs around his waist, holding himself there as Keith was left to scramble to slip his free arm under his husband's arse to hold him. With both hands on his cheeks, the kiss was deep but over too fast. Probably so as not to scare the children. Keeping himself stable, Lance didn't move once it broke and Keith was confused all over again

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No. I jumped without thinking. I was worried if I moved I'd damage your present"

Lance had tried to curve around the box, even if he'd jumped up without thinking. Pulling it up to sit higher against his chest, he smiled knowing that it wasn't damaged

"I think we're good"

"I think we should sit. I've broken Marco"

"That I can do"

"Oooh. My big strong husband..."

"Damn straight"

"Actually, you're gay..."

Giggling his head off, Keith could only roll his eyes at Lance as he started back to where he'd been sitting with everyone else before.

 This new family Christmas thing was weird. It was scary... daunting and left him kind of nauseous with anxiety when he stopped to think about it too much, but somehow Lance was pulling down walls he didn't know still existed and easing his soul in only a way his dorky arse husband could.