#and getting sick and dying. what can you do. grab the shovel

[greelin]

no i don’t want a job i want to eat dirt and get sick and die. thankyou

[faeriescorpio]

Go Into The Dark / ISWM pt 1 fic w/ paranoid Captain, Chapter 2

ao3:

Previous chapter, Ch. 1:

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

The planet is unfairly gorgeous, but such beauty could be hiding dangers. You eye the rocky outcroppings in the distance, too hilly to be considered proper mountains.

"Come on, Captain!" Mark calls to you a few steps ahead, and you frown at the back of his head. If only you could die and reset, and find some way to prevent Mark from coming down to the planet with you...

No. There are too many variables. You have no idea why the ship didn't malfunction this time. It would be impossible to replicate what may be the best reset yet.

No! Even a single person dying is NOT an option.

"Oh, Captain, look!" Mark breathes in wonder, and your head snaps around quickly in alarm.

There is danger in beauty, you had thought earlier. You raced to Mark's side.

But there is no danger. Your Head Engineer is pointing to a wide valley with a variety of greenery and gentle rivers. It is quite literally, the most ideal place to start a new civilization.

You hate it. You hate that everything is so perfect. It isn't right. Where's the other shoe? How long will it linger over your head, waiting to drop at the worse moment and destroy this idyllic paradise?

Mark pulls out his communicator, calling the rest of the crew with glee. You let him. This valley looks defensible, and perhaps while your crew is safe here, building a place to stay, you can scour the rest of the planet for dangers.

"Captain?" You turn your head away from the surroundings to face him again.

Mark looks nervous. "...Are... are you alright?"

"Of course I am," You reply immediately in a comforting tone. Your crew can NOT pick up on the dangers. Your guard is always up, They wouldn't suspect a thing. But the whole crew on guard? They would know.

Mark doesn't look convinced. "So we can wake the colonists?"

"Not yet." Your screen on your forearm gives you a notification; the crew is preparing to come down, as per Mark's orders. You whip your head around, scanning the horizon wildly.

"No, no, no," you mutter. You take your helmet off with a whoosh of air, and Mark stares at you in surprise.

"Captain?" You take in several frantic breaths. The crew scanned the air, said it was good for breathing. Mark doesn't have a helmet. But you have to maker sure. What if there's something in the air your crew didn't see?

You take a step forward and you can feel the soft dirt beneath your boots. The dirt. Even this dirt could be dangerous. There could be bacteria, microorganisms, or unknown chemicals in the dirt. You know some of the colonists in cryo-sleep are children. Children don't think, they would just shovel this dirt into their maws and get sick! They could die!

"Huh? The dirt's fine, Cap," Mark says, and you ignore the fact that you had apparently been speaking aloud without noticing, instead bending down to grab a handful of the rich soil.

You open your shovel and throw some dirt in.

"Stop that!" says Mark, alarmed, but you ignore him. It tastes like dirt from back home. Good for farming, full of everything a plant could need to thrive. It's grit scrapes down your throat.

"Captain!" Mark barks. "What are you doing? Spit it out!" Children would eat more than one handful. Maybe there's something in the soil that needs a larger quantity to be digested in order to get sick from it. You stuff more dirt in your mouth. It's thick and moist from a recent rain shower- the crew says it rains here! What if the rainwater isn't clean enough, like back at home? Maybe the rainwater in the dirt could kill someone.

Mark smacks the back of your unprotected head, sending the dark soil flying out of your mouth in clumps.

"We'll just test it more!" He cries out, dismayed. "Captain, what would we do if you got sick from eating dirt?!"

Oh. Oh, your brilliant head engineer. He's right, of course. They would surely attack if you were down, sick from protecting your crew. There are safer ways to do this, of course. Of course! Extensive testing.

You stand up and brush the dirt away from your mouth.

"Right," You say numbly, and go back to scanning the valley for dangers. You can hear the humming of engines as your crew comes down to the planet in carriers.

Mark looks distressed. You wonder if news of the Captain eating dirt would distress the other members of the crew.

"Can you not tell this about anyone?" You ask. You turn and head towards where your crew is landing in the valley, not waiting for a response. You trust your head engineer. He won't tell a soul.

[the-firebird69]

I had a good day it was fun I needed it and it was something I needed to do.

-there were a few people bothering me Trump is one and Tommy have the constantly at us they're at each other and what they're doing is mind-boggling and gross goes nowhere has no effect except to deteriorate their condition and we need a lot more strength here and I kept sending it in it's not making a damn difference we need strength here and I kept sending it in I said when are we going to have to do this when they're here and look normal for him to get beat up and me and they said no it looks like tjem doing it i said oh. That's good. I went on to learn more these situation is really bad people are not helping things are getting gross and we need to take action. This idiot wanted you to grab the shovel like a baby get in trouble with giant remoulard and he keeps doing it for like an hour. Find out you're asleep and hit the roof I said this baby has to leave. We're going to go after him for what he's been saying I don't think three shovelfuls of dirt are the same thing as two-story roof and he knows your history it's getting ridiculous and he knows the story about what John remillard did and he keeps jamming him in our face... And I hear you it's fine we're going to take his stuff how it's going to work and we're doing it all day and they're sitting there seeing poor boy.. so people see it and start going after Trump and he started going harder at it and faster and we have a way of doing things. Now these guys said they know about the max and Stan went running down there real quick. A soda saw something in his eye he's saying we can't stand your kids and my husband says for finally remembering when you had your fat ass on everything and couldn't remember this stuff and gets mad and my husband says in this realm wild swinging guns are not respected they die first big mouth babies included and so I got something going to stop harassing me no now it's coming to a head they heard him saying s*** keep your beaver off me and s*** like that I'm just getting madder and madder and he says I want to know is this close to a notice I said I'll have him start looking again and now you're trying to use that frontal lobe is covered what you're saying is we'll have to get both of you in there and I suppose you understand what you're doing by getting rid of that layer and he says what does this mean and it'll be too much pressure for the pseudo empire you'll lose all your stuff then you go right ahead little baby boy you got a little baby's attitude and your stupid baby face nobody does that act to me ever stupid s*** without dying you're a crass loser individual and you go around like these assholes :-) you don't have real power and I'm sick of it I grew up with some but I have a lot of power now and I don't want to hear from your baby ass f****** face you have something to say save to someone else so you can get hurt these two get hurt all the time it's an illusion they get hurt probably dead five times a day now brain dead I suppose you want to join up with them and be a zombie what is that well you saying yes okay it's all yours your free beatings for you now I'm ordering it and I'm sending it in cuz you're a f****** c********* holding me prisoner you're dead Stan.

When I'm requesting someone come fix something you say they're coming here expecting to be here I don't give about your f****** excuse I'm so sick of you you stupid s*** you messed up almost every job I was in and these retarded people can't handle it at all and you're working for the max cuz you don't know their schedule cuz you're an idiot you say you're smart and you're not smart.

So my husband said that and Thor and Freya are narrating Hera says

I can't stand this s*** fix the f****** thing is Max wanted to and you're an airhead now they're going to probably force you to but this garbage has gone on long enough and you don't even know what you're doing you send an order out like that we're going to get screwed and you're not a real Mac and they know it and he knows it that's not in it either and we think the office the alpha are out and they can't say so and you're a pig what's your problem. Do you want respect and s*** while you're crapping on someone so you're John remillard don't you shut up or have you cut in half vertically he says they get respect from you from that idiot and he's really mean that this guy's mean too what do you want me to respect you for failure to do your job or understand what it is both of them he says what the f*** am I respecting you for being an a****** to me screwing up my money messing my jobs up missing my house up my home my living what am I respecting you for holding me here a little bit you don't really do much my team pulls the weight and that's the idea you're supposed to use it and it's supposed to sit there and be abusive because you can't shut your mouth. It says it's because of where it is since you're my enemy and you announced it and I said that would be nice that's because you're an a****** Stan. I do understand something he's like sitting there f****** around with you all the time this is I follow I follow him he says and I see him following me and I can spot what he's doing and he's a little baby because he's dumb f****** noises harassing people into stuff screwing around with John remillard and doing this stupid s*** I can't get peanuts and they can't do this and he's just a f****** huge dick it was very a baby and a parasite and I follow this it's really bad what you're doing I'm trying to help him there's a few people and us women help them and a minor threats to get him stuff and you people we went out of this he's not going to do s*** for your extortion except kill you and they're big you idiot it's a huge plan of the max to try and draw them here it's like well they came here with stuff and it's gross and you're an idiot I need you to stop doing it we need to take those shovelfuls out this is against us and you can't do it you are a p**** you're a win I'm sick of you and you're fired too I'm going to get you fired from this job I can't stand you you can't do anything to work I just call up and someone goes and does it and it's this code s*** too you're full of crap

Sherry

I've heard enough complaints from this guy he's got some people stuck to him or just abusers and I know what she's saying there's some heavy code and she just calls up and they get it fixed and then it was saying anything but this a****** makes a big deal out of it I can't do that the max wanted you to get all this killed because you don't like your team and your kids and so what they're not going to accept you in any way they won't accept us either we're going to be slaves in Westerly you little f****** prick and you're a prick he doesn't like you he doesn't like your personality doesn't want you around never lied to Aunt Rose is very nice and sweet and you're a huge a****** screwing your sister still saying it's wrong I mean she can't stand you and really my boy here would be different than you you're just making mongoloids his jeans are so rugged they make like a normal person it says probably 110 IQ not 60 but really can't do it and it's impossible almost it's true too you need the other one it didn't work with the Paris Hilton and anybody else and with her race it was really bad people trying a lot and after a while he didn't care no he did he was angry I've had it with you Stan you're an a****** to him you keep doing this stupid s*** you won't you won't shovel that out you got on the phone you started yelling at him these people are so stupid it's lower why can't they figure it out so he gave me the whole story and you're not satisfied with it I f****** hate you I hate you

Mac daddy

Olympus

[annabethy]

“Come back to bed” maybe on the college era?

in which percy is head over heels in love and wants annabeth to come back to bed,, percabeth

Percy notices the second that Annabeth slides out of bed. It’s hard to not notice, really, when he’s been sleeping next to her for years. He’s fallen used to the way she breathes, the cute way she turns from one side to the other seemingly on the hour, so it leaves him feeling rather empty and cold as the floorboards creak under the weight of her feet.

He doesn’t follow her immediately, figuring that she’ll come back soon enough. It’s alarming how he can envision her without seeing her – her steps are more spaced apart, so he knows that she’s still half asleep, and he can hear the sniffles, the remnant of her nasty cold.

The noise stops, and that does bring him out of bed. His feet slide onto the floor, and chills run through his body at the contact. His footsteps are featherlight as he walks down the hallway and to the living room, where he fully expects to find his girlfriend.

Percy does find her there, and the sight makes him have to stop for a moment to collect the drops of his melting heart. Her back is to him, so she doesn’t move, but she’s sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, a bowl in hands.

A whole buffet, really. She’s grabbed countless snacks and set them in front of her as she finishes off a bowl of ice cream. Percy thinks she’s reminiscent of a sneaky toddler right now with the fuzzy blanket that’s wrapped over her shoulders, and it forces him to stifle the smile across his face. He just watches her for a second as her fingers hover over the colorful wrappers, deciding what to open next. It’s a deserved snack in his opinion because she’s been sick for days and has also been struggling through finals.

Annabeth yawns, and that brings Percy’s attention back to the situation. He steps forward softly, leaning against the back ridge of the couch.

“Come back to bed,” he says softly, sliding his hands over her shoulders.

She jumps but just flops backwards onto the couch so that she can look up at him instead of turning around. Percy’s thumb brushes her cheek lovingly.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Annabeth yawns again as Percy comes around the couch. He sits next to her on the floor, opening an arm for her to settle against. She takes the opportunity, pressing her face into his chest.

“I’m okay,” she mumbles against him. It’s entirely muffled, but he understands her well enough.

“What are you doing up?”

She looks at the snacks in front of her. “I was hungry.” Percy chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. He sits back so he can look at all of her face. “I can see that.”

“Don’t make fun,” she whines. “I wasn’t making fun,” he assures. His hand goes to trace slowly over her back as he presses a kiss onto the top of her head.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” she tries to explain.

Percy gives her a scolding look. “Baby.”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot to eat?”

“Yes, but it’s okay because I’m eating now.”

Percy looks at the bowl of ice cream. “You’re shoveling carbs in your body.”

“Anyone who took high school biology would know that it’s for short term energy, which I need because I have a ton of homework to do.”

“What you need is to sleep,” he says gently. He keeps caressing up and down her back, and his point is proved when her eyes begin to flutter shut. He presses his lips to the top of her hair and closes his eyes as he rocks her slightly. He’ll never get tired of this, holding her in his arms, watching her drift off to sleep, comfortable and warm and safe. It showcases how far they’ve come, how much she trusts him, and it reminds him of their future. They’re both in their senior year of college so it’s only a matter of time before they graduate, and…

A ring sits untouched in the corner of his dresser. He’s wanted to for so long ­– he’s practically dying to make her his wife and wake up to her for the rest of his life – but he’s waiting until they’re no longer in university.

Right now though, he is tempted to blurt the words out. He wants to tell her that she’s beautiful, that he loves her and always will, and that he wants to marry her. And while he thinks she wouldn’t mind, he knows that she deserves so much better than a half-assed proposal without any ring in his hands, so he’ll just have to wait.

He still feels like sharing some of what he’s feeling though, and while it’s not quite a proposal, he says, “I’m going to marry you someday.”

Percy doesn’t expect an answer back. She looks asleep, her breathing even, so he is surprised when she whispers, “Not if I marry you first, loser.”

It’s so Annabeth that he can’t help but start laughing at two in the morning. She cracks open an eye, and it’s a sight he’ll never get used to seeing. The eye that he can see sparkles and makes his stomach flutter, so he presses another kiss to her lips. He holds it for a few seconds, relishing in the soft contact, breathing the entirety of her in.

“I love you,” he whispers.

She repeats the words back to him, sleepy and cute.

“Come back to bed,” he pleads gently, quietly, nothing more than a mere whisper into her ear. “You’re exhausted.”

“I’m eating,” she argues, though she is on the brink of falling back asleep.

“Bring it with you,” he tells her, and so she does. It’s a short walk back to the bedroom, and Percy has to fix the blanket on her shoulder from falling off as she refuses to let any of the snacks fall from her arms. She crawls into the bed next to him, right into his open arms. They’re stuffed under four blankets – Annabeth’s doing – and she dumps the pile of snacks right onto his stomach.

He jokes about her using him as her personal table, and she says something snarky back, but he’s too focused on the moment to interpret what she says. This feels like exactly where he wants to be for the rest of his life, and exactly where he is supposed to be for the rest of his life.

When she finally does fall asleep against him, curled into his chest, breaths hitting the skin of his neck, he thinks he’s found his home.

[heytherejulietx]

okay you already know what I want, but that prompt 35 pls and if you want a kissing one with it, top of head kiss would work well 🥰 ILY BESTIE

Hurt / Comfort prompt list.

Kisses prompt list.

Reggie Mantle - Helping the other person when they’re sick and have nobody else to help. | Top of the head kiss.

Riverdale tag list - @bucky-j-barnes @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff @kpopgirlbtssvt @booksmusicteaandanimals @happy-puff @cheryllclayton @jesso80 @dietbreadloaf @thebluetint @lilireinhartsimp @camiczzzz @bitchy-broken @crazyninjalight @luella-cane @literarygetaway21 @hopeversusillusions

To join my tag list fill out this form.

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Y/N let out a low groan into her pillow when her phone started ringing, the noise so loud it hurt her head, which already felt like she had been hit with a shovel. She reached her arm out and patted across her bedside table for a moment so she didn’t have to open her eyes, which felt like they were glued shut; and managed to knock over a bottle of water and a photo frame in the process. By the time she had picked up the phone she was frowning, huffing as she answered it and put it to her ear.

“Hmm?” She managed to briefly hum as she rolled onto her back, her body aching and sore.

“Good morning sweetcheeks,” Her best friend’s voice boomed over the phone and she groaned, immediately turning the volume down. “Woah, ouch, not happy to hear from me?”

“You’re too loud Reggie,” Y/N complained quietly as she lifted her hand to rub her eyes. “Why are you calling, shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Reggie countered, and she winced a little.

Y/N had meant to tell him she wouldn’t be in school the night before but she must’ve passed out before she had the chance. She hadn’t been feeling too well for the whole weekend; her fever kept getting worse and each throb of her headache felt like a direct shot to the brain. To make it worse her parents weren’t home as they were out for two weeks on a trip, so she was on her own. And she definitely didn’t have enough energy to even crawl out of bed, let alone go to school.

“Sorry Reg I meant to say, I can’t come in today.”

“Why not?” She could practically hear him pouting over the phone and couldn’t help the slight smile that passed over her lips.

“‘Cause I don’t feel too well. I’ll sleep it off today and I’ll be back tomorrow, promise.” She said quietly, before she lifted her arm to muffle a coughing fit that came along suddenly, leaving her chest and throat burning as she frowned.

“Shit, Y/N, that sounds bad. Are you okay?” Reggie asked, his voice softer than before and full of concern, something rare for the jock. “Can you ask your parents to get you some medicine or something?”

“They’re not home,” Y/N told him, wheezing slightly when she started feeling another coughing fit coming along. “Look Reg I need to go, don’t worry about me I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah okay, see you.” Reggie responded before she lifted the phone from her ear and ended the call, sighing as she just dropped her phone onto the duvet, too tired to reach over and put it back on her nightstand.

As quickly as she had been woken up her eyes started closing again, drifting off into an uncomfortable and achey sleep that she expected to drift in and out of all day.

What was not expected was a loud knock at her door just over an hour later, followed by four impatient rings of her doorbell.

Y/N scowled as she opened her eyes, hoping whoever was there would go away, though after six more impatient rings of her doorbell and bangs against the door that she was sure could leave a dent she groaned and forced herself out of bed to open the door.

Everything was sore as she got to her feet and shuffled into her slippers, still in the same pyjama trousers and an old Bulldogs jumper that she had stolen from Reggie that she had been in for the whole weekend. Her hair was still up in the same beyond messy bun too, loose hairs spreading out like she had been electrocuted. The flush in her cheeks from her fever was prominent, sticking out against the pale sickly colour of the rest of her face.

By the time she had gotten to the door she was wheezing from another coughing fit, and had to cover her mouth with her arm again as she pulled it open to reveal who was there.

Reggie Mantle.

“M’lady.” He bowed falsely as she had opened the door and she frowned in confusion, eyeing him up.

He was still dressed like he was going to school, his backpack still slung over his shoulder, though in his arms he carried a flask, a handful of sunflowers that looked suspiciously like the ones she had in her front garden, a water bottle, and a bottle of medicine.

“Reggie, what- what are you doing here?” Y/N’s mouth opened as she stared at him, more confused than anything. He didn’t particularly like school but he never skipped Mondays - Mondays were the days for Bulldogs practice.

“I’m here to see my favourite little honey-bun of course.” Reggie teased as he reached out a somehow free hand and gently tapped the edge of her nose before he held everything with two hands again as he stepped inside without waiting for her to let him, allowing the door to shut behind him.

“You have school.” Y/N deadpanned, and he rolled his eyes as he looked at her.

“Thanks Captain Obvious, what a real find you have there.” Reggie responded and Y/N huffed as she crossed her arms.

“No seriously Reg what’re you doing here, you’re gonna miss class and-“ Y/N started before she cut herself off as she started coughing again, wincing as the pain spread through her chest with every cough she let into her sleeve.

“Okay calm down before you end up dying on me,” Reggie shook his head, emptying his arms onto the nearest surface so he could gently rub her back as she coughed. “You said your parents weren’t here and it’s really shitty to have to be sick on your own so I wanted to help.”

When Y/N had turned to look at him he was smiling genuinely which caused a similar expression to form over her lips, thankful that he would do something so kind for her. “Thanks Reg.”

“No problem,” He shook his head, before he paused and moved to grab the flowers again and held them out to her. “These are for you, sugar plum.” He teased and she rolled her eyes but took the flowers nonetheless.

“Thank you, I’ve got some sunflowers just like this outside.” Y/N smiled and almost laughed out loud at the panicked look that briefly crossed his face.

“What a coincidence,” Reggie mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, before he cleared his throat and took the flowers back from her. “Okay, you go get in bed and I’ll get these in a glass and sort everything else out.”

“Everything else? Reggie what-“

“Go, now, don’t make me count to three.” He threatened jokingly, and though she rolled her eyes she still turned to walk back upstairs, leaving Reggie to fumble around downstairs. He had been in her house enough times to know where everything was already. Reggie usually came to her house when things were getting hard with his dad, and although her parents claimed to have no clue what his situation with his dad was like, there was always a blow-up bed prepared on her bedroom floor when he happened to stay for dinner.

Y/N got back into bed and propped her pillows up so she was sat against the headboard, signing as she leaned back. It was another ten minutes before Reggie walked through her bedroom door, carrying a tray with him that he placed on her bedside table. On the tray sat the sunflowers in a glass of water, a bottle of water, a bottle of medicine, and a bowl of soup - which was what she was assuming was in the flask he brought. Even though he didn’t seem like the type, Reggie was an amazing cook, and made the best soup. She had mentioned how much she liked it once, and somehow since then whenever she was feeling sad or unwell Reggie brought her some of his soup for her to have.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile softly as she watched him carefully place the tray down before he moved to sit on the bed beside her, passing over the bowl of soup with a spoon.

“Thank you, Reggie.” Y/N said softly, her voice full of sincerity as she leaned against him slightly, smiling further into her first spoonful of soup when she felt his arm curl around her shoulders.

Y/N and Reggie had always been very close. It was normal for them to hold hands, or for him to carry her, or to pretty much do everything that a couple would do, other than kiss. Half of the time Y/N didn’t know where they stood on terms of their relationship, whether they were best friends or whether they were more, but she knew for a fact that she wouldn’t trade it for anything; she had the best person on the planet all to herself.

Y/N ate the soup quietly as she listened to Reggie telling some story about football, letting him do all of the talking as she had the soup that he had made for her. She didn’t look away from him as he spoke, and before she knew it she had finished the whole bowl of soup and half of her bottle of water by the time his story was over.

She wheezed again as she coughed which prompted Reggie to reach over and grab the bottle of medicine, causing her to frown a little.

“The liquid stuff’s really gross.” She pouted, and Reggie just rolled his eyes as he poured a spoonful out.

“Take it or I’ll spoon feed you.” Reggie threatened jokingly, and thinking he wouldn’t she just shook her head and didn’t take the spoon from him, leaving him holding it up in the air.

Reggie just shook his head and lifted his spare hand up to her, a finger underneath her chin which he used to tilt her head upwards. Her mouth fell agape upon shock of the action, her heart suddenly fluttering in her chest madly, so he used the opportunity to fit the spoon into her mouth so she could have the medicine.

Y/N pulled a face as soon as the bitter taste hit her tongue which prompted the jock to laugh as he took the spoon back, and handed her the water bottle to wash away the bad taste.

“Aww you’re so cute, you know that snookums?” He teased as he tucked her underneath his arm again, and she just groaned quietly as she nudged his ribs with her elbow.

“Cut it with the pet names, Mantle.” She huffed quietly as she let her head drop to rest on his shoulder.

“Why, pumpkin, you’re just way too adorable to stop.” Reggie teased again and grinned, causing her to just roll her eyes in response.

After a moment she watched as Reggie reached over to her bedside table to grab her hairbrush, and before she could ask what he was doing, she felt his fingers carefully pull the current hair tie out of her hair before he started running the brush through her hair gently. Her eyes fluttered closed as he brushed her hair, and then ran his fingers through it after; which caused butterflies to pool in her stomach and a stupid girlish smile to paint over her lips.

She stayed quiet for another few moments as she leaned into him, fiddling with the sleeves of his jumper she was wearing to keep her fingers busy before she turned her head to look up at him again once he had finished brushing her hair, leaving it in a loose ponytail once he was done. “Thank you for coming today,” She said softly, meeting his eyes as he smiled genuinely too. “It means a lot.”

“It’s no problem, I just didn’t want you to be alone.” He said softly and shrugged a little.

Y/N smiled softly, though yawned before she could say anything else, her eyes closing for a brief moment. With being exhausted from being sick anyways, paired with the warm soup in her belly and the comforting arm around her shoulders, it was extremely tempting to fall asleep there and then.

“Get some sleep,” Reggie mumbled as he gently rubbed her arm, prompting her eyes to close properly. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“Thanks Reg.” Y/N whispered softly with a sleepy smile across her lips.

“Of course.” He muttered, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head which caused her to smile a little more as she relaxed into him, sleepy and happy in the arm of her best friend.

Best friend, though maybe more.

[transjess]

im sorry to everyone who’s seen me talk about sam and dean shoplifting already i’m sure you’re all sick of me LOL but genuinely i 100% think 10 year old dean takes little 6 year old sammy and says “ok sammy you gotta go into that middle aisle there and just start wailing as loud as you can okay?” and sam says “why?” and dean says “just do it or you won’t get your lucky charms” and sam shuts up REAL QUICK. and does as he’s told for once and while every staff member in the store is trying to comfort sam, who is full on sobbing and hysterically scream-crying like he’s dying, dean takes an old duffle and just shovels mac n cheese & boxed pasta and cans of spaghetti hoops into it and when he’s done (& has grabbed the promised lucky charms) he does a bird call or something and sam immediately stops crying and wipes his face on someone’s jacket and says “thank you i feel much better now :)” and they scarper while everyone’s still trying to figure out what the fuck THAT was

[gumnut-logic]

Virgil hurried through post-flight. The rescue had been a simple one, fortunately. He had been able to manage it on his own and in the shortest time possible. There were matters at home he would be more comfortable seeing to in person.

Sure, there was nothing serious to be concerned about.

He told himself that as he lowered Two’s hatch and leapt onto the concrete hangar floor.

Really, it was only a flu.

One that had kept his helmet on the entire rescue. God forbid if he transmitted anything to people already in dire straits with their health.

Fortunately, standard procedure kept both him and their equipment bug free.

He still didn’t like it.

Removing his helmet was bliss itself as he strode into the lockers. A few breaths later he had taken off his uniform, baldric and all; stashed what needed stashing and chucked the rest in the laundry.

The hot shower was absolute bliss.

So okay, there may be some aching muscles, but the exosuit had been needed. He could handle it.

He didn’t luxuriate in the water, he had more important things to attend to.

A towel and a loose jumpsuit later and he was padding barefoot up into the depths of the villa in search of the one brother who had been on his mind the entire rescue.

He found him in his bedroom.

The holoprojector was projecting some kind of fish and there was music blaring...well, it could be called music, he guessed. It sounded more like recycling bin lids being smashed together or that time Two  dropped a pod onto the hangar floor from twenty metres up.

His brother lay prone on his bed, eyes closed, brow wrinkled, skin pale.

Virgil fished the remote out of a limp hand and hit the kill switch.

The sudden silence was a blessing.

“Wha-?” Bleary eyes opened and sought out the cause. “Birg?” A slow blink. “Whatcha do that for? Pu’ it back on!” A hand flailed for the remote and missed.

“Gordon, you were told to rest.”

“Don’ wanna. Wanna die fightin’.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying. You have the flu.”

“Dyin’. Tell Penny I love her.”

It was at this point Virgil realised the state of the room. “What the hell have you been doing?” There were food wrappers, crumbs and a smeared slice of cake on the bedcovers.

“Last meal. Wanna go out ‘appy.”

“If you’re eating, you’re on the mend.” Which was a good thing and had Virgil feeling immeasurably better, but his brother’s bed was a rubbish tip and definitely a health hazard. His fingers darted over the covers, nabbing wrappers and several empty crisp packets. “You are a slob.”

“I’m a dyin’ slob. I live an’ die true to my nature.”

“You can say that again.” Virgil grabbed a recycle bin and a pair of latex gloves and began shovelling crap off his brother’s bed.

“Hey, that was still goo’.”

Virgil eyed the half-eaten pancake with congealed cream. “Perhaps, if you want to add food poisoning to your death certificate.” It was tossed into the bin. “Where did you get pancakes from anyway?”

“Stash. Emergency stash. I’ secret.” Gordon flopped in a dramatic way. Particularly dramatic since he was still lying down.

An arched eyebrow. “Sure.” But the next wrapper contained the remains of a stick of Blackpool Rock.

Virgil held it up, examining it. “Gordon, is this mine?”

Foggy brown eyes peered up at him. “Oh.”

“Gordon! Penny gave them to me.”

“But I wanted some.” It was such a whine, it was painful.

“Then why didn’t you ask her to get you some?”

The grump that appeared on his brother’s face was almost comical. It would be more comical if Virgil wasn’t holding back the urge to add strangulation to his brother’s supposed death certificate.

As it was, Gordon’s mumbled response was a clear indication that he had asked Penny for some Rock, but had been denied in some manner.

Hence the thievery.

Virgil sighed. “You could have ordered your own.”

“Not the same.”

“But stealing mine is?”

“You don’t mind. You’re a softy and I’m sick.” Yes, that was definitely a childish pout.

“I’m a softy, huh?” He must remember to disprove that allegation and seek the appropriate revenge.

After his brother was better.

Virgil sighed.

Gordon knew him far too well.

“You suck.”

“I’m dyin’ here.”

Virgil shoved a slice of cake in the bin, followed by three more empty crisp packets and a cookie wrapper. For god’s sake, the rescue had only taken him an hour. How much could one flu-ridden aquanaut eat?

There was raspberry jelly in a big blob sitting in a crease of duvet fabric. For a split second, his mind registered it as blood and his heart skipped a beat.

“Gordon!”

“Wha-?”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Wa’ accident.”

“You could have cleaned it up.”

“Can’t. Dyin’.”

Oh, for crying out loud. “You’ll need to get out of bed and change the sheets.”

“Why?”

Virgil pulled back the edge of the duvet to uncover his brother for some motivation only to find a worm of spray cheese curled up beside him.

“My god.”

“Wha-?”

“Gordon, get out of bed.”

“Why?”

“I need to change the sheets.”

“Why?”

“Because you are disgusting, that’s why.”

“Don’ wanna. Dyin’.”

Oh, he was getting closer to dying by the moment. Fratricide. Definitely fratricide.

“Move your ass or lose it.”

“No.”

“Gordon.”

“Let me die in peace.” And as if to prove the point, his brother coughed a little and then burst into a horrendous fit, possibly attempting to turn his lungs inside out.

Virgil’s heart softened as he held him. “C’mon, Gordon, relax. Calm your breathing.”

Gordon let out a decidedly childish whimper and curled up under the rancid covers in a ball of misery.

Another attempt. “Let’s get you out of those bedclothes and into something clean. You will feel so much better.”

Gordon grunted. “Leeme ‘lone. Dyin’.”

Virgil straightened up, his back creaking. A sigh. Okay, they were going to have to do this the hard way.

Just like any mission, Virgil gathered his tools first. Fresh sheets, a spare duvet, pillow and pillow case. He stacked them up in strategic positions beside his prone and still moaning brother.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get out of bed, so I can change the sheets? You do realise I have a duty of care. One that means I have to make sure you don’t expire due to exposure to your own swill.”

“I’m not a pig.”

“Oh, yes, you are.”

“You hur’ m’ feelings.”

“Too bad. Get out of bed.”

“No.”

“Gordon...”

“No. Lemme die in peace.”

“Then you leave me no choice.”

He didn’t give his brother a chance to question that before ripping off the disgusting duvet and throwing it across the floor. Gordon yelped and curled up. He was only wearing pyjama shorts in typical Gordon fashion.

“Virgil!”

Without another word, he stripped the sheets from beneath his brother, whisking them away not unlike a magician removing a tablecloth from under fine china.

Gordon still yelped.

The pillow was chucked and with some determined aquanaut manipulation, the bottom sheet was replaced. Gordon squirmed under his grip. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What needs to be done.”

The pillow was replaced and the new duvet gently laid down.

Gordon grabbed at it as if it might suddenly disappear on him again.

“There, done. Please try to keep them clean this time otherwise I’ll do that all over again.”

“You are cruel.” Gordon glared a teary glare up at him.

Virgil grunted. “Yeah, well, you’re disgusting.”

“I’m dyin’. Give me a break.”

Virgil snorted and piled all the discarded bedclothes together and threw them down the laundry chute. He must remember to put in some serious germ killers in with that lot.

“Go to sleep, Gordon. You will feel better, I promise.”

“Hate you.” His little brother curled up into a ball of misery.

“Yeah, sure you do.” He couldn’t help himself, he reached out and brushed Gordon’s hair back from his forehead. He was a lot cooler than he had been earlier.

Thank god.

“You’re getting better. Get some sleep.”

Gordon mumbled something into the sheets and closed his eyes.

Virgil brushed his hair again, gently stroking his fingers amongst wavy strawberry blond.

He didn’t leave until his little brother’s breathing dropped into the regularity of sleep.

A small smile to himself and he headed towards the door.

Tripping on a stray soda can, he nearly fell flat on his face, barely catching himself on the edge of a desk.

His hand landed in something sticky.

Oh, god.

He bit back his brother’s name as he stalked out.

Disinfectant.

A hose.

Maybe Two’s water cannon.

Yes, his water cannon.

It would solve so many problems.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[rafecameron]

Hospital For Souls

Summary: Rafe decides that instead of the usual halloween parties the kooks would attend this year the perfect way to celebrate the spooky evening would be to explore the abandoned building he found the week before. This is for @bricksatanakinswindow​ spooky writing challenge!

Pairing: Kooks x Reader (a lil Topper x Reader)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: Okay so I’ve never written anything scary before so this probably sucks ass and isn’t even scary. But that being said I have tagged people who have asked to be tagged in my work but if you don’t want to read anything horror related please don’t feel the need to, I won't be offended! Also the first half is proof read and the rest isn’t bc lazy.

*GIF is mine*

“Rafe where are we going?” You ask with an exasperated sigh, every time you asked your best friend for any kind of hint to where you were going he’d simply tell you you’re almost there.

“Yeah man we’ve been walking for ages.” Topper complains from beside you.

“Look, we’re almost there okay?” Rafe turns to shoot you all a glare, “Just stop asking!”

You let out a groan but shut up as you follow after him, sharing an annoyed look with the two boys beside you. Rafe had driven you all out to the cut as soon as it started to get dark, parked up in the middle of nowhere, and insisted you all follow him into the trees. If you didn’t know him any better you’d think he was going to murder the three of you and bury you out here. But the backpack slung over his shoulder wasn’t big enough to hold a shovel so you were sure you would be okay.

Deep inside the tree’s you finally come to a stop outside a building. From the front it looks no bigger than your house, but you can see that it goes a lot further back. The windows are boarded up, graffiti littering the exterior of the building.

“What the hell is this place?” Kelce asks as Rafe heads up the crumbling stone steps.

Rafe simply shrugs, “No idea.”

“Great explanation.” You roll your eyes waiting at the bottom of the steps with Topper, “How did you find it?”

“Yeah, what the hell were you doing out here?” Topper questions.

“I found it after getting into an argument with my dad. Drove out here, got out the car to smoke and just found it.” He says, like walking through the woods in the cut alone to smoke was a totally normal thing to do.

He pulls out what look like bolt cutters from his bag and starts attacking the chains on the doors, you raise a trimmed brow and turn to give Topper a ‘what the hell??’ look.

“Uh, Rafe? What are you doing?” You ask.

“Trying to get inside.” He says through gritted teeth as he squeezes the chain between the blades.

Kelce stands with his arms crossed, back leaning against the wall watching his friend fight with the metal, “Why would we want to go inside?” He asks.

“To look around?” Rafe poses it as a question, letting out a whoop when the chain finally breaks in two, “Unless you’re scared?” He turns to you with a challenging grin.

“Scared? No.” You shake your head, “Doesn’t mean I want to go in there. We’ll probably fall through the floor or something.”

“Yeah I’m with y/n on this one, doesn’t exactly look like it’s had a safety check in a good couple of years.” Topper tilts his head to look up at his friends on the steps.

“Fine, stay here then, if you’re scared.” Rafe taunts before disappearing inside, Kelce hot on his heels with a laugh.

“Seriously?” You groan. You share a look with the boy beside you before letting out a sigh and starting up the steps.

The inside was pitch black, you could barely see a hand in front of your face let alone where you were walking.

“Guys?” Topper calls out, you feel his hand brush against your arm as he tries to feel his way around.

You’re suddenly blinded by a bright light, causing you to stumble back into something hard, “What the hell?” You shout covering your eyes as Rafe laughs from behind the light.

“Figured we’d need these.” He says chucking the torch at you, you fumbled to catch it, rubbing your lower back which had hit the cabinet behind you.

“You’re an asshole.” You grumble.

You shine the light down at the floor in front of you, it’s covered in years worth of dust, clouds of it floating up into the air as your friends distrubed it. You point the torch around the room, looking at the array of abandoned furniture, none of it giving off any indication as to what this building used to be.

“I’m so glad this is where we’re spending our Saturday night.” Topper comments, tapping his torch against his palm to get it working.

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Rafe asks, his voice far away as he heads deeper into the building.

“Since when were you the adventurous type?” You call after him.

The rooms smelt musty and old, the building itself seemed older than any other on the island you had seen. The doors were thick and wooden, the cement of the walls starting to crack and crumble due to years of neglect. You couldn’t help but turn your nose up at the entire evening. You would have much rather spent the night at a party getting stupidly drunk, like you were sure every other teen on the island was.

“Where did they even go?” You mutter mostly to yourself, Rafe and Kelce had disappeared down the dark hallway and you could no longer see the light from their flashlights.

“Do you want to wait outside?” Topper asks, sounding half bored and half scared.

You considered it, already sick of breathing in the polluted air but ultimately you shook your head, “It’s dark, one of them could fall and hurt themselves.”

Topper nods and follows you through the cluttered hallway. You shine your light into each room, illuminating its contents but not seeing your friends anywhere.

“I think this was a school or something.” Topper comments, his light landing on chairs and desks spread around one of the rooms, a blackboard propped against the wall still had squiggles of chalk on it.

“Maybe.” You murmur.

You weren’t sure if this really was a school or if people had used this place as a dumping ground for old furniture before finally abandoning it. Either way, you didn’t care. You just wanted to find your friends and get out of there. You were admittedly starting to get a little creeped out. You’d never been in a place so deathly quiet before. It was almost as if even your breathing and footsteps had been muted. In a place where you expected to hear echoes you were met with nothing but silence. It was eerie.

“Guys?” You call out, “C’mon we’re gonna get lost in here!”

You shoot a worried glance to Topper at the lack of reply from your friends, already concerned something had happened to one of them.

“They’re trying to fuck with us.” Topper grumbles and although you agree it’s likely, you had known Rafe your whole life after all, you were still worried about one of them falling and breaking their neck in the dark.

It wasn’t until you had been searching for at least another five minutes that you hear Rafe’s voice calling you from a distance.

“Get over here!” He calls, a light appearing down the bottom of the hallway.

You huff out and hurry towards the light, Topper close on your heels. As you get closer the light disappears inside a room and as you round the doorway you find Rafe and Kelce standing in front of a table, lights pointed down at the surface.

“What?” You snap, annoyed that no in fact one of them had not been dying, they had just been ignoring your calls.

“Check this out.” Kelce waves his light across the table for emphasis and you peek over his shoulder.

“What the fuck is that?” You frown.

“A spirit board.” Rafe answers, “Are you stupid?”

You punch him on the shoulder, “Hard to see under all the grime.” You huff, “Really, it’s fascinating, can we go now?”

“You don’t wanna try it out?” Rafe asks and even Kelce snaps his head up at that.

“No, I definitely don’t want to try it out. Can we just go? It’s freezing in here.” You cross your arms over your chest, rubbing your hands against your cold arms.

“Don’t be wimps, c’mon.” Rafe picks up the board, blowing the dust off before placing it back down.

“Rafe, we’re not playing that stupid thing.” Topper tells him.

“Don’t be a pussy Top.” Rafe picks up the plachette from the floor and places it in the middle of the board.

“I’d rather be a pussy than possessed.” Topper holds his hands up with a nervous laugh, “I’m not touching that thing.”

“You really believe that crap?” Kelce asks, switching his torch to his left hand as he reached out for the wooden item.

“Believe it or not, I’m not risking it.” Topper shrugs.

“I’m with Top, I’m not touching that thing. Besides, it’s filthy.” You wrinkle your nose as your friends place their fingers on it.

“Ask it something.” Rafe instructs Kelce.

“What the fuck am I supposed to ask?” Kelce frowns up at him.

“I don’t know man. Whatever they ask in those horror movies.” Rafe shrugs, looking down at the plachette expectantly as he waits for Kelce to speak.

“Uh, alright.” Kelce rolls his shoulders and clears his throat, “Uh, is there anybody here?”

All four sets of eyes sit on the plachette, waiting to see if it does anything. A few moments pass and Rafe nudges Kelce with his elbow.

“Ask something else.” He says.

“Like what? I’m guessing the answer to that one was ‘no’” Kelce rolls his eyes.

“I guess there’s no one here then, lets go.” You grab Toppers elbow as you make to turn around.

“Hold up,” Rafe twists his head to look over his shoulder, “Let’s just try again. Ask again.”

“Why can’t you ask? I don’t want no ghosts following me home.” Rafe shoots Kelce a glare and the boy lets out a sigh, “Alright, fine. Is there anybody here?” He asks again.

You glance around the room while the boys play with their board, the table, board and two metal chairs are the only pieces of furniture in the room. The set up seems strange, like someone used this room for the sole purpose of communicating with the board.

“It just fucking moved!” Rafe calls out causing you to snap your eyes back to the board.

“It’s still in the same place.” You comment.

“No it definitely just moved!” Rafe argues, eyes glued to the wooden shape.

“Rafe, can we just-” You cut yourself off as you watch the object slide across the board slowly, the movements jittery as it makes it’s way to stop on the ‘YES’ at the top of the board. “Okay, which one of you moved that?”

“I didn’t do it.” Kelce holds his hands up, “I swear.” He looks over at Rafe with a raised brow.

“Well I didn’t do it, put your hand back on it.” Rafe tells him, his eyes flashing with excitement as he looks back to the table.

The plachette starts moving again, slowly and uncertainly it makes its way across the board. It moves to the left and down, coming to a stop over the letter ‘O’ for a few seconds before moving again. To the right this time it stops on the letter ‘U’ before shuffling the tiniest but to the left to stop on ‘T’.

“Out?” Topper asks, worry knitting his brows together.

You just let out a laugh and roll your eyes, “Very funny, ha ha, you got us. Let’s go.” You clap your hands together in mock applause.

“We didn’t fucking move it!” Rafe protests, “We didn’t even ask it anything!”

“Well I don’t believe you! I know you’re trying to fuck with us Rafe, it isn’t going to work!” You place your hands on your hips, glaring at the boy looking over his shoulder at you.

He quickly drops his fingers from the board, holding them next to his shoulders, “I didn’t fucking move it.” He says adamantly.

Kelce copies his movements, removing his hands as he stared down at the bored, “You had to have moved it, because I didn’t.”

“Of course he moved it.” You sigh.

But a squeal is quick to leave your lips as the plachette flies off of the board unaided and hits the wall to the left, both boys in front of the board suddenly jump backwards.

“Fuck this!” Topper spins on his heel and hurries out of the room, you not far behind him.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.” You mutter to yourself as you run after Topper, the sound of footsteps behind you telling you your two other friends weren’t far behind.

“Did you fucking see that?” Rafe calls, excitement evident in his tone.

“Yes we fucking saw it why do you think we’re running?” Topper calls back out of breath.

Your flashlights danced across the ground as you all sprinted through the hallways, you weren’t entirely sure Topper was leading you the right way but right now you didn’t care. As long as you were far away from that room you were okay.

You only came to a halt when you were all out of breath, your hands rest against your knees as you suck deep gulps of air into your lungs.

“What the fuck was that?” You pant out.

Part of you wanted to accuse Rafe of trying to scare you all but you knew he’d never be able to pull off something like that, he wouldn’t have the patience to set it up. You could feel your body shaking with adrenaline after your unexpected run, your heart was beating out of your chest.

Topper was leaning against the wall, head tilted back to meet the cold wall as he watched his two friends by the window.

“Did we run the right way?” Kelce asks as he peers through the window, “I can’t see anything out there.”

“I wasn’t really concentrating where I was going, I just wanted to get away from whatever that thing was.” Topper points a shaky finger in the direction they had just come from.

As he did a bang emitted from down the hallway, you couldn’t see what it was but it sounded like something had fallen over.

“Well either that thing is following us or there’s two of the fuckers,” Kelce shakes his head, “I gotta get out of here. Black people always die first in horror movies and I ain’t about to be murdered by some dead motherfucker.”

Kelce starts to head off down the hallway, and although you hadn’t been taking much notice of your surroundings you were sure you didn’t recognise this hallway.

“Kelce I think that’s the wrong way.” You call out to him but his figure keeps getting smaller.

“You wanna go back that way then be my guest!” He calls without turning around.

“He kind of has a point.” Topper shrugs and motions for you to go in front of him.

“I can’t believe you’re all freaking out,” Rafe shakes his head as he follows behind Topper, “It’s fucking exciting!”

“It is not exciting!” You snap out.

“Are you scared y/n?” He teases.

“Yes I am fucking scared! There’s like, a fucking poltergeist or something in here throwing shit around!” You shiver at the thought, “I’ve seen way too many horror movies to know how this stuff ends.”

You try your best to keep up with the boy in front of you but he’s practically running at this point and you weren’t sure you had enough energy left after your other sprint.

“Kelce slow down!” You call out to him, “We need to figure out where we’re going.”

“Well it’s gotta be this way, it’s not back that way is it?” He calls back, continuing at his fast pace.

“I’ll go get him.” Rafe says with a roll of his eyes.

He pushes past you and Topper and hurried into the darkness to pull his friend back. You stop walking, turning to Topper with an anxious look.

“I don’t think this is the right way. We could have easily gotten turned around when we were running.” You sigh and run your fingers through your hair.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Topper says though you can tell by the look on his face he’s feeling a million things and fine isn’t one of them, “we’ll find the way out.”

He places his hands on your hips, mostly to comfort himself with some physical touch rather than to calm you down. He rubs circles into your hips and you nod your head quickly.

“Yeah, I know. Why did someone think it was a good idea to board up the windows.” You groan out.

Topper lets out a chuckle, “To stop idiots like us from getting in?” He suggests.

You laugh softly before resting your forehead against his chest. His heart was beating rapidly and you were sure yours was no different. You stood like that for a couple of minutes before you finally pulled yourself away from his grip.

“Where are they?” You ask chewing on your lower lip, “Don’t tell me they’ve run off again.”

“C’mon, let’s go find them.” Topper holds his hand out to you and you gladly take it.

He leads the way down the hallway, searching desperately for any sign of light from the other twos torches.

“I can’t believe them.” You mutter to yourself.

You jump into Toppers side as you hear a bang from one of the rooms beside you. You don’t dare check inside to see if it’s your friends and instead hurry your feet along the floor to the end of the hallway.

“I don’t like this.” You whisper out to your friend.

“Me neither.” Topper replies, “But I’ll look after you.” He reassures you with a squeeze of the hand.

You offer him a small smile, allowing him to pull you down the left corridor. You couldn’t believe Rafe and Kelce had disappeared again.

“If we find the way out we’re leaving without them.” You glare ahead of you.

Topper laughs lightly, “You wouldn't do that,” he replies before whipping his head round, “did you hear that? Rafe?”

You squeeze onto his hand as you hear shuffling behind you like someone was walking without picking their feet up properly. You wait a few seconds but get no reply.

“I don’t think that’s Rafe.” You tug on his hand as you start to walk backwards.

Topper spins around pulling you into the nearest room and shutting the door behind you both. He leans his back against it in case anything tries to get through while you pace in front of him, fingers pulling at the roots of your hair.

“This can’t be real.” You mumble.

You pull out your phone to try and call your friends but you had no signal, big surprise. You push it into your pocket in frustration and let out a groan. The room Topper had pulled you into had no furniture at all, the only thing breaking up the dull walls was a door in the far corner. You slowly make your way over to it, a shaky hand reaching for the handle as you try to gather the courage to pull it open. You decide to do it like a plaster, you grab the handle and rip the door back, letting out the breath you had been holding when nothing jumped out at you.

“It’s another corridor Top,” you call looking over your shoulder.

Topper runs across the room, pushing you into the hallway and pulling the door shut behind you, “Okay, good. Now we’re really lost.”

“There’s got to be an exit around here somewhere. A fire exit or something.” You take hold of his hand again, urging him to take the lead and start walking.

The corridor seemed to go on forever. Thick doors lined the walls either side of you, each one pushed wide open but you didn’t dare turn your head and look into any of the rooms. You didn’t want to see anything that would give you worse nightmares than you knew you’d already be having.

As opposed to when you first entered the building nowhere was silent now. You were fully aware of every sound surrounding you. Every little creak of the floor, every bang from a random room and every footstep that sounded above you. You tried to convince yourself they were being made by your friends but you figured even they wouldn’t be stupid enough to go upstairs to find an exit.

“Topper, I’m getting really scared now,” You admit as the door behind you sways as though in a breeze coming from nowhere, “I just want to be at home. I don’t want to be here and I don’t want to walk back through the woods.”

Topper squeezes your hand, looking back at you over his shoulder, he tried his best to put on a brave face, “We will be home soon, y/n.” He reassures you.

You find yourself becoming more and more distressed as every corridor you turn down looks exactly like the previous one. None of them showed signs of harbouring exits and you were sure you would be in here forever. The bangs from behind you were getting louder and the footsteps from above never stopped, like whatever it was was following your exact path. Topper’s torch had once again stopped working and you gladly passed yours over to him, your free hand now also gripping onto Toppers as well.

In horror movies everyone always has such a will to survive. They run and they fight and you imagined that’s what it would be like in real life. But all you wanted to do was curl into a ball on the floor and not move again. You had no fight in you. No will to run up and down the hallways screaming and begging for help. You just wanted to sit and cry and hope that by the time morning came you could find your way out. But Topper wouldn’t let you and you wouldn’t expect him to wait around for you while you sat and had a breakdown.

“Hey, what’s that?” Topper comments, his light dancing across a door which looked suspiciously like the fire exit doors at your school. You allow him to drag you over to it at a jogging pace and you almost cried when he pushed it open and fresh air blew onto your face. You both tumbled out the door, the steps beneath you almost completely disintegrated. Out into the trees you want to fall to your knees and cry happy tears but you can’t.

“Which way do you think?” Topper asks shining his torch to the left and the right. You were at a random part of the building, the trees much closer to the exterior now and you had no clue which was to go.

“Well, if we follow the building we have to make it back to the entrance eventually, right?” You suggest biting your lower lip lightly.

Topper nods in agreement and heads off to the left. You ignore the sound of the boards banging against the windows, it was just the wind, the wind that was nonexistent.

The building seemed to go on forever and you thought you were lucky to have not been lost in there for much longer than you were.

“What if they’re not out yet?” You ask.

“We’ll wait for them.” Topper replies.

“And what if they’re not out by morning?” You question again.

“I don’t know, y/n,” Topper sighs, “Do you want to go in and find them?”

You quickly shake your head. You would rather sit outside all day and wait for them than go back inside and risk getting lost again. Luckily this one thing had gone right for you tonight and you had walked in the right direction, the entrance soon coming into sight. The second lucky thing was that Rafe and Kelce were sat on the wall along the stairs, legs swinging.

“I see you guys were looking for us.” Topper calls out causing the boys heads to snap up.

“I see you were too.” Rafe calls back.

As you get closer to the boys you let go of Toppers hand and hurry over to them, “You’re not possessed, right?” You ask, tiptoeing up to look them both in the eyes with a glare.

Once you were certain neither were possessed you turned to Rafe and pushed him in the chest causing him to topple backwards off the wall, “Asshole!” you snap out.

“What the hell y/n?” Rafe pops up over the wall with a glare, “Are you trying to break my neck?”

“Yes, actually. It’s the least you deserve after taking us in there!” You reply stepping forward to shove him again but Topper holds you back.

“Look let’s not fight, okay? Let's just get back to the car and get out of here before whatever is in there comes out here.” Topper decides for you all, you don’t protest when he takes your hand for the third time tonight. The touch comforting even outside of the building, you definitely needed it walking through the pitch black trees.

Every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves had you snapping your head round, certain something was following the four of you. Rafe constantly told you to calm down, while Kelce would rub your shoulder comfortingly. The only one seemingly unaffected by the nights events was Rafe but you couldn’t tell if he truly didn’t care or if he was putting on a brave face. Knowing Rafe it could be either of them.

You let out a groan of relief when Rafe’s truck comes back into view, running over to it with your hand still clutching onto Toppers. You crawled into the back seat, eagerly buckling yourself in and ready to get back into figure eight and away from this place forever. The pogues could have the creepy haunted building, you wanted nothing more to do with it.

The drive back was silent, Rafe humming along to the radio like nothing had happened, Kelce staring blankly out of the window and your and Topper clutching onto each other in the back. You decided to go back to Rafe’s, Rafe wanted to party and honestly the rest of you just didn’t want to be alone.

Inside Rafe’s living room you curled up onto the corner of the couch, gladly accepting the glass of whiskey the host offered you, gulping half of it down in one go and slowly feeling your body stop shaking. The more the four of you drank the more the conversation started flowing again, the alcohol helping the night feel a little less real.

You were sipping on your fourth whiskey when the sound of glass smashing behind you caused you to jump out of your skin. You spun round on the couch, noticing a picture laying face down on the floor surrounded in glass, one that had just been hanging on the wall perfectly fine.

You share a look with your friends, horror written across their features - Rafe included. Whatever you had found in that building had decided to follow you home.

@rudyypankow​ @joshy-obx​ @topperthornton​ @starlightstarkey​ @rafej-cambanks​

[tobin-heaths]

Paris in the rain

request: Christen proposes to R but she gets rejected due to fear? But then some fluff because R thought more about it and then proposed to Christen instead

pairing: Christen Press x Reader

words: 2353

"–will you marry me?"

Your eyes widened in shock, surprise and possible fear of what would happen any moment. You looked down at Christen, your girlfriend of two years, on her knees, a beautiful ring sitting inside a small box.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, no words able to leave it, despite you trying hard to find the right words. Are there even the right words for this? You knew the answer to that.

You felt yourself panicking, frantically looking around for anything to help you escape.

The water in your eyes was becoming unbearable, small droplets rolling down your reddened cheeks. For a moment Christen looked hopeful, not knowing that your tears were in fact nothing to be excited about.

"Christen– I. I'm sorry, I don't know what to say. I can't– I'm sorry, I can't do this. Excuse me." Your voice broke, heavy waves of tears streaming down your face and falling onto the floor.

"Y/N– wait!"

You fled the room, out of your shared apartment with no idea where to go. Sandy wasn't your home, you didn't know much about the city other than what Chris had shown you so far. You've only recently moved into her apartment, once you were able to sign with the Utah Royals.

It was all too much for you, Christen dropping the question out of nowhere, never even once mentioned anything about marriage plans. Christen really wanted this with you? Wanted to spend her future with you?

Endless thoughts and worst case scenarios flooded your mind, giving you a headache. Was it completely over now? Did you just end your most meaningful relationship by storming out the door?

Christen looked absolutely heartbroken when you turned away. The hand holding the ring slowly sinking to the ground as her eyes started tearing up. You were able to see her heart breaking. The thought had you crying a fresh wave of tears.

"What have I done." You mumbled, coming to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. It was late in the evening, the sky covered by thick clouds, perfectly mirroring your inside.

You took your phone out, looked at the time and decided to call Kelley, the only one you could think of calling right now. The only one you wanted to talk to right now.

The phone rang endlessly, no one picking up. "Shit." You cursed, sniffling in frustration. Now that left you with nowhere to go but back to your apartment. Would she still be there?

Christen would probably never forgive you for this, for leaving her like that, all vulnerable. She's the love of your life, you knew that much, and you wanted to spend your life with her beside you, but in that moment it scared you, it made you react in a way not even you would've expected. You regretted your decision instantly.

Face palming yourself you turned around, wiped your tears away and began your walk back to the apartment, either facing Christen or simply not, you didn't want to think that far yet.

Your fingers nervously fumbled with the key, lucky to have them with you at all times and opened the door slowly, your head the first thing to peek inside.

There was no light, no noise, no sign of the kind brunette. A small part of you was relieved, the other was shattering into tiny pieces. She really left. You broke all over again seeing the blown out candles and rose petals on the floor. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the small black box still laying on the table. She left that as well.

Feeling more lonely than ever, angry at yourself and ready to snap someone in half because of your own stupidness, you ran into your bedroom, throwing yourself onto the bed, breathing in her scent as you screamed into the pillow, your tears wetting the white fabric.

Christen seemed to be everywhere that night, she was all around you, her clothes, her scent, framed pictures of the two of you. Your thoughts occupied by her, your heart heavy with guilt and regret. You cried until there were no tears left and when you eventually fell asleep, as the sun came up, you dreamed of her.

You awoke with dried tears, red eyes and a big headache. As soon as yesterday's events hit you you broke into tears again, already feeling sick of it.

You even noticed the time, completely avoiding the fact that you just missed an important practice. No doubt you'd be in trouble for that, but it's nothing that can't be explained and properly sorted out later on.

Unlocking your phone you tried to ignore Christen on your background and went through your missed calls and messages. A few teammates were trying to reach you but Kelley was the most frequent caller, worrying the most.

'Christen is with me.'

'I heard what happened, she doesn't wanna talk much.'

'Y/N. Call me.'

'Where are you? It's practice!'

You tried to ignore her messages but your heart was fluttering at the mention of your girlfriend's name.

Your phone vibrated for one last time as Kelley sent another text. 'Team meeting tonight, you better get your ass there. Do it.'

Should you really go? The fear of crossing paths with Christen entered your mind, but your heart longed to see her again, your body screamed for hers. It has only been a few hours without her and yet it has been the worst torture you had to endure so far.

Long short story you found yourself at the training compound, walking towards the meeting room, knowing full well that officials would be hot on your heels as soon as your feet crossed the threshold.

You couldn't bother to look somewhat presentable, only wearing one of your clubs sweatpants and one of Christen's older shirts, a beanie covering your bad hair and sunglasses hiding your exhausted eyes and dark circles.

The room was filled with most of the team already, your eyes roaming through it to search for that one special person. You spotted Kelley leaning against the wall, arms crossed and engulfed in a conversation. Next to her sat Christen, listening to everything they talked about, eyes fixated on your friend, her jaw flexed and ready to cut someone's finger.

She looked stunning, no one would've ever guessed that she just went through a possible breakup. Hair up in a half bun, wearing a tight black long sleeve and black pants. She seemed ready to attend someone's funeral, probably yours since you shoveled your own grave.

Before you could do something stupid and walk over to them, officials reached you furious as hell, pulling you aside to give you a lecture and extra laps around the field the next time you'd have to show up since you clearly missed this one.

As Laura walked up to the front everyone began to take their seats. Christen moved from her spot at the wall, walking to the middle of the room and ultimately crossing paths with you. You were quick to fall back into your seat as Amy pulled you down, grabbing your sunglasses and hiding them. But you were not quick enough to miss the eye contact with Christen.

Her eyes widened slightly, hands reaching for Kelley before she averted her eyes to take her seat a few rows behind yours. You groaned, what a coincidence. "Shh, be quiet now, you baby." Becky warned. You rolled your eyes and playfully mocked her.

"Welcome, ladies. As you all know I'll be leaving after this season, there's still a lot to do and–" You zoned out, no longer listening to your coach's words, your mind busy thinking about Christen. Slowly turning around in your seat you tried to sneak a peek at her, almost choking on your saliva when you noticed Christen directly looking at you as well.

You turned back around faster than lightening, cheeks turning red in embarrassment of being caught. You begged the ground to swallow you, this whole situation seemed weird and unreal. Whenever there was a team meeting you and Chris would sit together, this was a first for the both of you.

You were relieved once this was over and you were allowed to leave. You were one of the first to jump out of your seat and run straight for the exit, as if someone lit your ass on fire, being glad you dodged all the curious questions your teammates were dying to ask, especially Becky.

You could've never faced Christen like this, not here, not around everyone. If you wanted to talk to her you'd do it privately, somewhere where it was okay to cry and break down.

What you also knew was to make this right again, you had to talk to Christen, one way or another this had to be fixed, it was only fair to her.

Not waisting any time you stormed into your apartment and tidied it up. Your eyes scanned the black box and carefully picked it up to have a look inside.

Christen did not come to play with this one, it was most likely the most beautiful ring you've ever seen. It was everything you've ever wanted and you were stupid enough to say no.

Winning a World Cup brought in enough money to buy a ring for her, that's for sure. The question was where do you get one that fast? Grabbing your phone you dialed Ashlyn's number to ask for advice. You guys talked for two hours, eventually explaining the whole situation to her and she then helped you out together with Ali, who joined the call 20 minutes late.

"Time to make this right, cutie. Ain't no way around this. Stay safe." Ashlyn reassured and hung up on you. You knew she was right, no time to back down from this, you had a woman to apologize to.

It was the next day, you using the time to hurry into the city and visit one of the nicer jewelers to buy Christen that beautiful ring she deserved. You used one of her other rings for measurement and finally left with the perfect choice.

'Can we talk?' 

Your heart rate picked up when you sent her the text, surprised she hasn't actually blocked you. Not even a second later Christen was online, typing her reply while your heart felt like bursting out of your chest. It was as if she sat somewhere, waiting for a call or text from you.

'When?'

You wanted to burst into tears, happy tears. She was ready to see you and actually listen to whatever crappy bullshit you had to say. Christen always had the purest heart of them all.

'Meet me here in one hour.'

That would leave you with enough time to actually shower and appear somewhat normal once again, trying to feel like a decent human with a decent relationship.

You heard keys unlocking the door exactly one hour later. You jumped to your feet, awkwardly standing next to the couch, the ring in the pocket of your jeans. Your pulse sped up when your eyes laid sight on her.

So many mixed emotions were hitting you all at once. How good she looked, how much you loved this woman with everything that made you and how much you hated yourself for breaking her heart like that.

"So– here I am. Talk." She stopped a few inches in front of you and crossed her arms, maybe an arm length away, almost reachable for you.

It took you several seconds to find your voice and the right choice of words. "I'm sorry. No–let me talk and don't interrupt me. Just listen, please. Let me explain," You tried your hardest not to cry before even speaking two sentences.

"When you dropped to that knee and held that ring up, asking me to marry you, I didn't know what to do. It came so out of nowhere that I was scared of what was to come afterwards, somehow not really believing that you chose me to spend your life with? I ran away like a child and regretted it instantly. Christen, I love you more than anything, I do. I never loved anyone as much as you and if you let me I will make sure to prove it to you every darn day of my miserable life that just won't make any sense without you next to me. I want to explore the world with you, want to create the sweetest memories with you, but most importantly I want you as my wife. So this time I will ask and whatever your answer will be, it is what it is. Christen Annemarie Press, will you marry me?"

Dropping to your knee you grabbed the ring and held it up, a small lonely tear escaping your eye. You were out of breath, somehow feeling a bit lighter now that you spoke all those pent up thoughts.

"Yes."

You frowned, not knowing what was happening and what that 'yes' actually meant. Christen, sensing your confusion, interrupted your thoughts before you could say anything else.

"Yes, I'll marry you. Damn yes I will. I love you,  Y/N, no matter what is going on between us. All I know is that you're my future."

Rushing towards your now fiancé you crashed into her arms, holding tight and never letting go again as you pressed your lips to hers before finally sliding that ring onto her finger.

"It's a beautiful ring, thank you. I love you." Hugging her tighter you buried your face into the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent, you could never get enough of that.

"I've missed you so much. Wait– that tickles, stop, baby." She giggled as you continued to run your nose along her flawless skin.

"I'll make it my personal mission to get you to laugh and smile at all times, for you are so beautiful when you do." You said and kissed her nose, finally feeling complete again.

[well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now]

Mammon and MC for that recent send me a ship

I don't know why I even expected a different ship😂😂😂

1.) Gives nose/forehead kisses

MC does!! They know Mammon needs a lot of reassurance physical affection and he always blushes so prettily when they do it. It's a win-win situation. Mammon wants to give nose/forehead kisses too but gets too shy before he goes through with it. If he does manage to work up the courage it'd be really abrupt and seemingly spontaneous (he's actually been zoned out the whole time thinking about kissing them) and then he's immediately running off, blushing and yelling about being "a busy demon who has important work to do"

2.) Gets jealous the most

.................................... :|

3.) Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive

MC does the picking up cause they can't technically get drunk and Mammon's the one who's usually out gambling and/or drinking (isn't it canon that Mammon's 'shy blushing virgin' act only started after MC arrived? I think Asmo mentions something like that twice? Not in those words obviously but)

4.) Takes care of on sick days

Both!

MC's actually pretty level headed during Mammon's sick/hurt days. They give him the needed medicine/treatment, make sure he's hydrated and fed and resting in bed and spends the rest of the day cuddled with him because he gets super needy and clingy when he's sick.

Mammon is a MESS whenever MC is sick. Is his human dying! Are they in pain! Fuckfuckfuck. Bursts into MC's room with his arms full of medicine, blankets, warm soup, water bottles, pillows, and anime he stole borrowed from Levi. Absolutely doting while also denying that he cares, at full volume. Hysterically searches human care sites on his D.D.D. while MC sleeps

5.) Drags the other person out into the water on beach day

I mean solmare pretty much answered this; Mammon! If MC isn't fast enough he will scoop them up and toss them in

6.) Gives unprompted massages

Neither. Unprompted massages don't work with either of them. MC tries at first. They are much less shy with their emotions than Mammon is (though I think the game has also told us that MC keeps their emotions pretty close to their chest? Lucifer mentioned it once) but Mammon freaks out and squirms so much all they get is a near miss of his elbow to their face. From all the brothers the game's shown that Mammon's probably the least likely to touch MC without any verbal consent and even then he usually waits for MC to make the first move so yeah unprompted massages don't work. However, when Lucifer's punishments get too much or when Mammon is reliving the war MC may sometimes massage him depending on if he's in a mood to be touched. This works vice versa too when MC relives/remembers the pain of being killed (because according to Grisella that's something you never forget)

7.) Drives/rides shotgun

During the rare times they actually use a car Mammon drives. They both scream along to songs on the radio

8.) Brings the other lunch at work

Mammon. The only actual job Mammon has is as a model and he'd always rather grab like a cereal bar to eat between shoots rather than deal with the hassle of actual food. Mammon (who once in a panic spent a whole night reading through articles on how much water/food/sleep a human needs) is much more likely to bring MC food while they work/study. Usually it's just cup noodles though, but it's the thought that counts.

9.) Has the better parental relationship

...as in who gets on with their parents the best? (I'm gonna take it as that cause there's a kid ask further down) Bruh...Mammon's dad straight up kicked him down the stairs and outta the house & (in my HC) MC doesn't have any living relatives. The closest thing either of them has to a parent is Lucifer... Despite how different they are and how much trouble Mammon gets in with Lucifer and how cruel Lucifer can be towards him we all know they're actually really close and when it comes down to it Mammon knows he can depend on Lucifer to have his back. MC absolutely gets the most terrifying shovel talk of their life once they and Mammon officially start dating. MC's relationship with Lucifer has been pretty up and down because oh he's hot he seems nice what a FUCKINH asshole oh actually he's just an overworked single mom THIS FUCKER TRIED TO KILL ME AGAIN WTF oh wait he's actually only really worried about his family I mean he's not bad actually wait under those 76 hard layers he's kinda soft wait is he in love with me what the hell wait no he's worried because his marriage is rocky rn... DAD!? But once they get over all that they have a pretty stable relationship and an understanding that they are family and will support each other. Mammon also gets a shovel talk.

10.) Tries to start role-playing in bed

Mammon tries. He sees something that he thinks a human is supposed to find sexy and wants to try it out cause he thinks MC will like it. (Takes a while to work up the nerve) but one day he pins MC to the bed, gives them his best sultry look and says in his Dark-Dangerous-Deep-Cool-Mysterious™ voice (that sounds a little too like Lucifer's for his liking) "Hey Baby, have you been naughty? Do you need Daddy to spank you?" MC and Mammon then just stare at each other with a blank face for a while before MC's cackling, rolling on their back, wheezing, choking, while Mammon's keening and trying to suffocate himself with his pillow. After they have both gathered their wits and Mammon has effectively buried his flaming face in MC's neck, MC reassures him he doesn't need to try to be a cool bad boy or whatever else for them to like him and they liked him just fine as he was and anyway they already thought he was cool but if that was something he actually wanted to try because he genuinely wanted to and not just because he thought it's what they wanted then they could try it. He tells them to shut up

11.) Embarrassingly drunk dancer

MC if you actually manage to find something to get them drunk. Look they have a stressful life okay and one way to reduce that stress is to get smashed and dance on a table while (badly) grinding on air. Mammon is surprisingly a good dancer when drunk...sure it's all sexual (see my Drunk HC post) but it's still good. He is, however, a completely embarassing dancer when sober

12.) Still cries watching Titanic

Look we all know who it is... The game told us who it is...I'm not gonna say it again

13.) Firmly believes in couples costumes

Mammon but he tries his best to deny it. He's a hopeless romantic he just doesn't want anyone else knowing about it (they do) so he'll try to play is off as a coincidence. OH! Ya goin' as a witch!? Well I'mma black cat. A young rain drenched Victorian? That's wild bro anyway I'mma a vampire.

14.) Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas

Both! We've actually seen that Mammon does actually buy things for his brothers, work actual jobs to buy things for MC and the two times he thought he came into a large amount of money the first thing he did was text MC asking them what they wanted with the money, before even confirming whether it was a scam or not. So yeah he definitely breaks the rule. MC, who wants to spoil their first man and who always has a large amount of money on them (because of said first man) also breaks the rule

15.) Makes the other eat breakfast

Lucifer. (And Beel) neither of them ever get the chance to miss breakfast because it's, in Lucifer's words, "the most important meal of the day and you have to spend it with your family. Missing it leads to early morning lectures. Also missing a meal means going hungry caue Beel would have eaten it and everything else

16.) Remembers Anniversaries

Both! They are both so smitten there's no world in which either of them would forget

17.) Brings up having kids

Mammon does casually at first. Not their own biological kids but instead his kid. The one with the witches. He doesn't say it in so many words but instead casually mentions how cool it'd be to see them again. On one of those unusual days where he is quieter he says he wants MC to meet her. Later MC's the one who mentions paying off all his debts with the witches (using the money his favourism unconsciously manifests and getting the kid. Obviously they'd have to bring it up to the others first.

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Cold and empty (Part 1/2)

Warning: Angst, a lot of Angst, blood, being shot, chance of a character dying,sadness (but do not fret there’s fluff to follow int he next part)  Wordcount: ~2,5k Summary: In a matter of months your life was completely turned around and damned, but you managed to hide it from your pack, scared of the consequences of someone finding out, but when someone waits for you in your own house, more than you’re secrets threaten to spill...

Saturday nights were Pack nights. That was an established fact for everyone who considered Scott McCall their Alpha and/or friend. And so, like every other Friday, you sat on the couch of Derek's loft and shovelled popcorn into your mouth as you watched Stiles and Isaac fight over which movie they should watch next, not minding the fact that it was almost midnight already and Derek looked like he was only seconds away of throwing you out. "Guys, I have a Geography test next Monday and I'd like to learn for it tomorrow so can we call it quits?" asked Lydia, rolling her eyes at the pestering that was going on. "Since when do you need to learn for anything?" you asked giggling and looked at her with a questioning look in your eyes. "Perfection doesn't come from nothing honey," she remarked and brushed her hair behind her shoulder. You just kept on giggling. You didn't mind staying there. You wouldn't mind not leaving the loft again ever. Other than the rest of the pack, Derek liked you and showed it. No one could explain why or how, but somehow he smiled when talking to you and even occasionally gave you a small hug. On more than one occurrence, some people mistook you for his sister or daughter when the two of you were out in public for something pack-related. You didn't mind that, you'd lie if you said that Derek wasn't some kind of father figure for you, but you always tried to avoid these situations, afraid that he would get sick of it or be embarrassed and stop the way he acted around you. But no matter how much you enjoyed Derek's presence or staying in his loft, all good things had to end, and so not long after Lydia's remark you said goodbye to everyone and made your way home. Even though you'd like to stay longer or at least as long as the others, you had a very good reason for always leaving first...

You opened the front door of your house with a deep sigh. What expected you, was the dark, empty hallway that leads to the dark, empty rooms. The house was, quite honestly, in shitty condition, but it was all you could afford besides school and all the necessities you needed. That was the harsh reality of your life. Your parent's had died when you were young and you'd been shipped over to your elderly aunt for her to take care of you. That was how you first got to beacon hills. But not even months after you got there, she disappeared. Completely. Not leaving any traces. Later on, you figured that she had somehow fallen victim to all the supernatural in the city. But your aunt had been a very, very reserved person, never really leaving her house anyways. It was a more-or-less lucky coincidence that she had made you take care of the bills and buying groceries and hygiene articles for the months when she was there. She made sure you knew how to use all her accounts and fake the way she spoke and her signature. It was almost like she knew that you'd be on your own sooner or later. And now you were. You had calculated that you'd have about a year and a half until you'd run out of money, so you planned on keeping everything the way it was for three quarters of a year and then search some sort of undeclared work- since you weren't 18 now, nor you'd be when that time would come- to keep on living. You had long given up the hope of going to college or university. You were happy if you even made it to thirty at that point in your life. Your pack didn't know about any of it and you were more than happy for it to stay that way. The fact that you're aunt had been so reserved when she was still alive made it easy for you to explain them not being able to visit you and that you couldn't join some of there activities because of your money situation (even though the often paid for you, against your will). You tried to keep them away from your house as far as possible. That's why you always left first (with the excuse of your aunt not wanting you to stay out too long) so that they wouldn't offer to drive you over and either see that the house was completely unlit or (in the wolve's cases) smell/hear that no-one was there. To avoid them climbing through your window at night (a habit you knew they had) you had reinforced all locks and windows and assured them you'd be fine. It had worked so far but had cost you half a year of the time left back then. By now, you just wanted to enjoy the time you had with the people you loved. So, like you did almost every day, you strutted over into your room, threw your things into a corner and changed into your PJ's before going to the kitchen to get a glass of tab-water for the night. When the glass was filled you turned around, ready to fall into bed and escape into the dream realm. The glass slipped from your grasp and shattered over the floor when your eyes landed on a dark figure standing in the doorway of the room. With wide eyes, you grabbed for a knife out of the knife stand on the counter. "Who are you?" you asked with a shaky voice, being aware of the seriousness of the situation in a town like beacon hills. The figure took a step forward, stepping into the dim street lamp light that came through the window. It was a middle-aged man with dark hair and a pair of dark sunglasses on his face, he wore dark clothes and held a gun in his hand, aiming at you. He didn't seem supernatural, but you could never be too sure. "Bring me to your safe," he said, his voice threatening low, sending shivers down your spine. "Excuse me?" you asked slightly confused by the whole situation, but raising the knife just a bit. What the hell was going on? When his eyes caught the movement of the knife he unlocked the gun and was ready to shoot at any wrong movement. "You better put the knife down little girl, wouldn't want to hurt a little thing like you, would I now?" You frowned but knew better than to disobey. You put the knife back but kept your gaze on the man. "How did you get in here?" you asked, still highly confused by the situation and not yet very aware of the danger that could enroll soon. "You can have the best locks in the world, but their not gonna do anything against a shattered window," he said as If it explained everything and shrugged a bit, "but anyways... Your safe if you'd be so kind." He waved the gun to the side as if to motioning you to move. You stepped forward a bit, careful not to step into the shards of the broken glass with your bare feet. When you stood in the door, feeling the presence of the still unlocked and loaded gun in the small of your back, you stopped for a moment and looked at the man behind you. "Wait a minute...are you robbing me?" "Are you just realizing that now?" he asked, almost amused by the situation. "Well yes, why would anyone ever want to rob me? I don't have money or anything." "You don't, but I know that your aunt has. A private elder woman that is rarely seen in public: a victim that's almost to perfect to be true," he nudged you with the gun, getting you to slowly walk towards your aunt's old office, which you hadn't entered in months, in which you knew the safe was. You also knew that it was empty of anything worthy... "That I found you and not her just makes it easier." "Uhm...sure, if you say so," you mumbled, not wanting him to notice how nervous you are, even though it would have been perfectly fine to be nervous while having a gun rammed into your back. "How do you know that my aunt has a safe?" you asked, trying to divert his attention enough to find a way to get help or something to defend you. "I installed it a few years back and now I want what's in it," he simply stated as if it was obvious. You swallowed, a lump in your throat getting bigger because you comprehended that there was nothing there for him to get and, even worse, you saw his face. He didn't plan on you getting out of that alive. Shit. Quicker than you wanted you stood in the office in front of the safe hidden behind a fake back wall of a small closet behind her desk. While you had entered you had caught sight of the old-style dial phone on your aunt's desk that you didn't remember ever disconnecting. That could be your change, but you had to play your cards right. With careful movements, you entered the combination to unlock the safe and waited for the 'thud' of air that would come out as soon as it was ready to open. As soon as it's inside was exposed, you stepped back and made space for the robber to look through it. you hoped he would take some time to look through the different documents and boxes full of sentimental stuff that your aunt has wanted to keep over her years. As silent as possible, you stepped behind, even more, stopping in front of the desk. For a second you considered just running away, but the man had made sure to close the door so that he would have enough time to shoot you when you'd try to escape. Carefully, you dialled Parrish, who's number the pack has forced you to memorize it in case they weren't there and you needed help. You had considered calling Scoot, Stiles or Derek, but you didn't want them to risk getting exposed while saving you, you wouldn't want to be the one at blame for that. You didn't hear if he picked up or said anything, instead, you laid the telephone handset onto the desk beside it's stand in hope that it wasn't too obvious. Before you could do anything else, the man's voice disrupted your thoughts: "THERE'S NOTHING IN HERE!" He screamed and turned around, anger visible on his face. "It's not my fault you decided to rob me," you said, louder than necessary with the goal of Perrish hearing and understanding the situation. Instead of answering, he stormed at you and raised his hands, the gun in his clutches.

Parrish had been sitting at his desk, typing away on the computer when his phone started to ring. He was doing a late shift, finishing up on some reports, so he didn't mind a little distraction. he didn't recognize the number, but the area code was from beacon hills so he guessed it was someone on a landline. He picked up. "Hello, Deputy Jordan Parrish here." No answer. He frowned and looked at his screen to make sure that he had actually answered. His thumb was already on its way to hang up when something loud was heard. He immediately raised it to his ear again. "Hello?" he asked again, but instead of an answer, he heard a voice that sounded eerily like yours. "It's not my fault you decided to rob me." He immediately stood up from his chair and waved over to the sheriff alarmed. Then there was a loud bang echoing through the speaker and Jordan immediately ran through the station, leaving a confused Sheriff at his desk. He jumped into his car and speeded into the direction of your house, while- even though it was dangerous- calling the sheriff and explaining the situation and asking him to send back-up. He knew that he'd most likely also call Stiles, so the pack would know in a while anyway.

Jordan pulled up at your house, almost surprised that the wolves hadn't gotten there before him, and immediately ran to the entrance, gun in hand. The door stood wide opened and a part of him hoped that you had managed to escape and not the alternative of whoever was with you having run away. "Y/N?" he shouted while entering, looking around. He had almost overheard the gargled caught that sneaked through the halls in response. Following the sound, he entered a room that looked like an office, even though the shelves and furniture looked dusty, like to haven't been cleaned in months. On the back of the room was a safe which was opened and devastated and on the desk in front of it laid a dial phone that had been smashed into pieces. You were nowhere to be seen. Jordan was almost ready to leave the room and search for you elsewhere again when he heard another small cough from behind the desk. He surrounded it and immediately saw you. You sat, or rather laid, on the floor, leaning against the cabinet that was included in the desk with your bloody hands clutched over your stomach. You were incredibly pale and there was blood running from your mouth. Jordan quickly realized the situation. You had been shot. You were dying. "Y/N! Shit, okay, we're gonna fix this okay. We're gonna fix you. Everything will be okay," he rambled, trying to keep himself calm why he sat down beside you and helped to stop the bleeding as best as he could with his hands. "Y/N?" he heard Derek's voice echoing through the house and immediately called out to him. When Derek saw you laying there, looking like your life was about to leave you any moment now he stopped. His world froze around him. Even though it most likely has only been seconds, it felt like hours had passed before he snapped out of it when the rest of the pack also entered. Later on, he'd wonder how the non-wolve members had managed to get there so quickly, but at that moment he couldn't care less. "What is going on?" asked Scott who only had the info that you were in danger. He saw the way Derek was staring at Jordan who sat behind a desk and stepped beside him and his breath got caught in his throat. Finally freed off being frozen by the situation Derek snapped into action. "We have to get Y/N to the hospital!" "We can take my car," Jordan offered, his hands still clutching onto the wound, even though he didn't feel like it did anything since blood kept seeping out. Derek nodded and walked over to pick you up so that Jordan could keep his hands on the injury. "Stiles, you wait for your father to come and explain the situation. Scott-" "I'm on it," Scott interrupted him nodded for Malia, Isaac, Liam, the twins and Theo to follow him. They had to find whoever did that.

Part 2

[the-firebird69]

We're looking at what happens to him on a daily basis and we are not pleased keeps touching the Frying pan, it's kind of sick all the time doesn't have any money. And we're very angry at you people you're very obtuse you want something for absolutely nothing plus negative and he's a grown man and you're ridiculous. It look like any of you are interested in dredging and it was said before and a bunch of times it's worth a lot of money.

You can like you can make a lot of money by growing food and out here in Florida and they don't seem to want to everything is right about the fertilizer you just mix it with soil and it's already lost a lot of acidity and most of it in the river is clean from debris and animals and other and each shovel falls worth money in China they're going nuts pulling it out probably spread here A bunch of into that kind of thing and figure out what to use it for so it was used for before it's a whole bunch of co-ops and other 10 miles 20 miles away from lake Okeechobee and they could get together and pull out tons of it there's so much of it there the day would never even scratch the surface if they worked on it for 10 years in a row you need huge machines it'll take a huge machine like a week a 20 mile machine you can't put too many in there instead it's going to all blow out the sea you can go out there and grab it the morelock wants them to be isolated here by us with no food and stuff and forced to fight us when they're going to be done on an island subjugated by everybody thinking it's a good thing and everybody is just going to be beating them to a pope they're very stupid people

-I tell you these people are so dumb it's raunchy I got to get him out of there anyways we got to get some work done it's terrible here

-it's a whole bunch of things wrong so they're trying to make some things right the morlock are evacuating they had like we're talking about just them about 8% left this morning and 5% just got to the island out of the 8% 3% are heading to the cities and that's it for them they're out for the most part the rest are clones. Gospel singing it in a song was last night and it looks like the building from LA but they tend to look the same the projects and someone thought they brought it here and they didn't so I got people's interest he said where are we and they're going we're not here and he said we're probably in Madagascar Haiti some other places and they checked they're not in Haiti there in Madagascar parts of Africa too and they're getting their asses handed to them Africans hate them trying to carve a place out of Australia and no good and BJ won't have it says he probably wouldn't tolerate our friend here why would he tolerate you and it's true cuz we could a****** and come take much for him to get diluted but is it hurtful person anywhere going to hurt him if he tries to do anything it's probably trying to kidnap you but can't let that happen

-additional to the 3% leaving would be about 7% clones and 7% of the clones made 7% of the populace and they're on their final round too and they have about 3% left after this no it's about seven or eight didn't get a decimated different way but the 3% is heading to the city and the 7% clones are going there speedily and trying to intercept them and become them and take over the island and the island is hell right now. It's a huge number of people who are trying to get there at this time from here and they're going to the airports and they're wondering why they're not walled off and my son says you don't want to feel trapped and you want to be able to go there and we want you to go there cuz you walking around like big jerks and you need to go somewhere else or Matt can come pick you up so they don't mind it and they're out there in the waiting and they're saying it sucks but it's better than dying some people are wailing crying so you shouldn't have crossed the plans you don't know what we're doing and he's just a boy and he tried and we failed and didn't even listen it all sounds right.

We're going to publish this is huge news he says it's true

Thor Freya

I've never seen the pile of sorry sex like this in my life no you're walking around like weirdos still I don't have to understand you don't have they don't really have a plan and see where their pants crab but okay I think they'll go there and Life goes on that's the way it is with these guys

Hera

Odd. Persicuted and they're psyche is very weak they take it out on people right away and they turn on others it's not even massive hardship yet will be tonight if they going to Big ships and it will be tonight because the clones are heading in

Zues

It's going to be a fight it's going to be big there's going to be a lot of people involved. You don't need any help but we see that we're out of control and he's calling for people to control it and that makes sense can't have any wildfires stuff like that

The Big Hawaiian you have a name

It's not as different

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Thunderstorms

Thanks to @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles for letting me run away with this idea. It’s not quite what we discussed but we all know I’m a soft ass bitch. 

Michael’s definitely the dad that got his quirks. He’s chill about somethings and apprehensive about others. And though a beach day turns in early, it’s a good reminder Michael’s always there for his family. 

Reader Insert. No specific race. 

Enjoy my masterlist. 

You can support me on kofi. 

__________________________

It’s a bit of a gamble, attempting to head east during the summer. But it has been a while since you saw your family and the kids are dying to see their GrandPops and Gma as your parents were affectionately dubbed. Both you and Michael figured it is safer to go early in the summer months, the chances of storms or hurricanes wasn’t zero, but it is significantly lower than waiting until August or so. So that leads you here, in late June that holds just on the horizon cookouts and BBQ’s that are famous in your family. 

Until a strong breeze comes through, bringing with it dark clouds. You look out to the sea, the breeze whipping sand up and the edges of your towel are fluttering too. “We should get home,” you warn Michael quietly. 

He’s sitting next to you, arms folded behind his head as he lounges in the foldable chair You decided to help the baby, Orion, put the last touches on her sandcastle. It’s not much of a castle at all, but it makes her content and there’s no way you’re going to fight that. Michael doesn’t respond, chest still rising and falling. 

You turn your gaze back to the kids. Orion latches onto Treyvon’s arm, attempting to get him over to look at her castle. He packs down the sand in his own bucket. “I’m coming, Ri,” he returns. Treyvon’s the oldest at 8 and Orion’s just behind him at 6. They trot back over to you and you turn back to Michael, tapping at his calf. “Michael, baby,” you say a bit louder to wake him. 

He groans, head snapping over to you. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Even though he’s wearing sunglasses, you see how tired he is. Last week he had some trouble sleeping and then Orion was sick. While Michael and Treyvon were thick as thieves, there is a soft spot in Michael’s heart for his little girl. There is nothing that she can’t get from Michael. All she has to blink her eyelashes and candy, toys, clothes, extra helpings of ice cream, first dibs on which section of the cornbread she wants is all hers.

 Michael spent most of the nights up nursing Orion, checking that her fever broke, that she drank plenty of fluids, nursing the tummy aches, giving her the extra snuggles that eased her into slumber. You were tempted to rebook the airline tickets for later. Orion didn’t get sick often, so you figured it had to be something serious. However by about Tuesday night, she was on the up and up. Though Michael kept a close eye on her throughout the rest of the week. 

You rub your hand over his knee, nodding out to the sea. More families are packing up from the beach. “Storm’s coming in.”

 Michael looks over the water and sees the dark clouds on the horizon too. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Don’t know. I’ve been in the hardhat zone over here for a while,” you tease. Michael chuckles, falling back into the scratchy material of the seat. “You’re going to get the tour next.”

It’s a quiet warning and no sooner than it leaves your mouth, Orion comes kicking up sand, hand reaching out for Michael’s. “Look, Papa,” she grins. Though she’s dropped the “Bear” right now, you know the grin that takes over Michael’s face. 

You started the trend, calling him Papa Bear when the kids were young, even before then. With Treyvon, you’d tease to Michael that he was a cuddly bear and therefore a Papa Bear, like in the book “Hop on Pop.” However, Michael demanded that no one actually hop on him. The demand was short lived once the babies got big enough to jump on the beds. Occasionally a spleen would take a foot coming down in all the excitement. 

Michael groans as he pushes up from the chair and follows Orion over to her two part sandcastle. You’re sure to snap a photo as Michael settles into the sand, listening intently as she explains the shells as windows and the twig on top as the flag. “It’s truly a masterpiece, sweetpea,” he offers, pulling her into a hug and kissing her temple. “So who’s the queen of this castle? You?”

“Mama!” Orion smiles up at you. “She’s the queen. One day I will too.”

“That’s right,” you and Michael echo. Orion’s greeted with a kiss on the forehead from you and a kiss on the cheek from Michael. Her giggles are soft. She’s a bit shy like Michael, would rather not be the center of attention except if it’s her birthday or if she’s with Michael. Then all bets are off. 

“We gotta head back to GrandPops and Gma’s,” Michael announces, throwing a glance over his shoulder to spy Treyvon turning over a bucket of dense sand. “You’re too far buddy. Stay closer to us.”

“But my castle, Dad.”

“I know. But you’re still too far from me. Just making sure you’re safe, bud.”

Trey’s pout is evident and you stop packing the bag. “I’ll stay with him if you finish packing the bag. I’ll snap a photo of it once you’re done too, Trey. But then we gotta head back. Storm’s coming in fast.”

Trey nods eagerly, running back down the shore and you follow behind with Orion’s spare bucket with her permission. She sticks close to Michael, but offers the left over of her shells for Trey’s castle too. You and Trey make quick work to fill the buckets. “What’s that?” Trey asks, taking his shovel and poking at something in the sand.

It takes a moment for you to spy it in the wet sand, but when Trey pokes it again, it jiggles slightly. The clear body camouflaging itself in the sand. “Jellyfish,” you say, taking hold of his wrist to pull him back. “Those stings hurt. Be careful.”

“It looks dead, Mama.”

“Doesn’t mean it is dead, though. Come on my side and finish filling your bucket, okay?”

“Ma,” Trey groans but when he sees the stern gaze and hard set lines he nods and takes your spot. It does look dead. But you can already see the sight if Trey gets stung. Your parents will have a fit. Michael will panic and wil not sleep for the rest of the vacation, worried about his little man. You get it, to be honest. You’ll be right up with Michael. But if you can avoid that, you will. You will do whatever it takes to avoid that. 

It’s only another minute or so before Trey’s finished and the two of you come back with more sand, packed in tightly. ON the count, you flip them over, but only after getting Treyvon’s specific instructions. He’s particular and neat. Won’t leave anything a mess. Once the pieces are mostly standing, he hands you some shells and you decorate the tiny dumes you’ve created. Michael already had most of the beach gear packed up. 

“What do you think?” you ask Trey taking a step back to admire the four tower castle. 

“Wish I had time for like the moat, but it looks pretty good.” You make sure to take a picture, Trey standing behind the masterpiece and quickly finish up packing away the tools. The rinse off is quick, mostly brushing over the kids with the spare towels and making sure all sand is gone from toes, legs and backs. 

“What’s for dinner?” Trey asks from the backseat. 

You stop at the redlight, still peering up into the skies. “I think Gma is insisting on a taco night.”

“Tacos sound good,” Orion interjects. “I like tacos.”

“Can I put hot sauce on mine?” Trey asks. He’s taken a strong liking to spicy food and though Michael’s always worried that something bad will happen, you always sneak in a few daps of spicy sauces when you can. 

“I don’t know, bub. Could mess up your stomach,” Michael responds, turning in the passenger seat to look to his son.

Trey knows the secret though. He looks into the mirror in the middle of the car and you catch his eye with a wink. “Okay, maybe next time.” 

“I hear some stinky monsters,” your dad jokes, peeking his head out from the kitchen at the sound of you opening the door. 

The kids charge down the hallway, varying degrees of volume to their roar or scream. You know your mother’s going to drop them a little snack but they can’t go too much longer without a bath. South and Moose click their paws on the hardwood floors racing their way to you guys. Your parents dognapped them to take them out and you were halfway expecting Moose to have too much energy and your parents calling that they’ll be dropping her off with you guys at the beach. Even though she had gotten older over the years, she still had her spirit of her puppyhood. But that fear never came to fruition. 

South climbs into Michael’s arms, curling up into the familiar embrace. “Oh, it wasn’t that bad, was it Southy?”

As the dogs settle back down, you know the kids should be done with their snack. So you’re quick to corral them. “Up the stairs. There we go. Up and attem. We shall not be stinky monsters any more.”

“I quite like being stinky,” Trey returns. His ascent is paused to deliver the line and Michael is quick to haul him up and over his shoulder. Trey laughs. “I take it back. I don’t like being stinky.”

“Oh, no, no, no, too late now.” Their laughter echoes long after Michael draws the bath for Trey in the guest bathroom and you take Orion into your parents bathroom. 

“Can I wear my owl pj’s?” Orion asks wrapped in her towel. “I like the owls better.”

“You can wear them, sure.” After you unearth them from the suitcase, you lay them out of the bed and shut the door for her to get dressed. She takes great pride in doing it herself, though sometimes you have to catch the backwards t-shirt before she waltz outside the house. 

“Uh oh, looks like you’re locked out for a few minutes bud.” Michael’s holding the mass of Trey’s swimming trunks and towel. Trey’s dressed already which is good. But if he wanted to grab anything, like a book, or a toy, he is out of luck for a bit. 

“That’s okay. I’m gonna go help Gma.” Trey’s descendant down to the main floor is more nosey that you would normally like, but there’s not too much to say. 

“I started a pile in my parent’s bathroom, which I’ll have to get up soon, if you just wanted to dump those for now and then shower yourself,” you offer, hands out for the dirty clothes. 

“All my stuff is still in the bedroom. So, I’m locked out too. But I’ll grab her stuff and start a load of laundry.”

“If you want, but we still have our clothes and towels too.”

“Good thing laundry is free,” he teases, disappearing down the hallway. When he returns, he has Orion’s bathing suit and towel as well. 

Over the years, coming back home feels like never leaving. Your mother is all too happy to be loads of laundry though, she refuses to fold a damn thing. That’s the job for everyone else and no one complains. Food is always plentiful, though you do sneak cash into your mother’s purse to cover the extra expense in grocery. Your father always has to the one to say he put it there so no fights ensue. Though, you know your mother knows it’s you. But visiting wouldn’t be the same if the cycle didn’t occur. 

Visiting your parents isn’t always ideal, though it had its perks. Specifically because of the sleeping situation and only because of the sleeping situation. There’s one only one spare room fit for housing guests The second bedroom was converted into a study, where you can remember spending too many nights up and staring out of the windows, or sneaking out of them. 

The guest room was originally your old room, but your mother couldn’t stop her decorative itch once you moved out. The room worked, even when there was only a limited number of bathrooms as well. The bed was big enough that the kids could sleep on it even with the way Orion fitfully slept. Michael always told you to sleep on the bed with the kids. He could fit on the mattress, that wasn’t a problem, but he knew that it was cramped sometimes. So Michael sleeps on the floor at the foot of the bed. It never lasted long that he was there by himself because you always slinked down from the bed. 

At first you’d lay with your head at the foot of the bed, with one arm dangling and he always reaches up to capture your fingers with his. And then you ask him to join you on the bed. Sometimes he gives in. Sometimes he doesn’t. And when he doesn’t you crawl down, thankful for the carpet that your parents hadn’t ripped up yet. The beauty of it all is that you made it work. And you hoped maybe they kids would always remember that it might’ve been a little cramped at times but you always made it work. 

The door creaks open and Orion smiles before taking her more quiet escape back downstairs. “Aha, there’s my daughter. I went looking for you,” Michael laughs. 

“Ya found me! Now shower, Papa Bear. You stink too.”

“On it,” he giggles with a salute and continues on up the stairs. There’s a rumble, as Michael pulls out his clothes. His ears pick up on the distant but not too far away rumble of thunder. He didn’t think the storm was that close. But when you mentioned getting back to your parents back, he knew he shouldn’t wait on it. 

The steam’s already billowing when Michael cracks open the door. Your pile of clothes on the sink counter. Your humming settles into Michael’s chest as he peels himself out of the trunks and sweaty t-shirt. It’s not clear if it’s a song or just content humming, but he enjoys the sound either way. 

“Got space for one more?” He asks. 

You peek out from the curtain and grin. “Of course I do.” 

You step away from the water, letting Michael in front as you lather soap over your chest and arms. It shouldn’t be this much of a shock. He shouldn’t be in such awe watching you. But he is. That’s just the plain truth of it. It doesn’t feel like it’s been nearly 12 years together. It doesn’t feel like it took you two years to have your first kid. It doesn’t feel like you’ve been there for three albums, three insane tours, two kids, a couple foster kittens, the two dogs, some nasty scandals. No, you’ve just been there for the blink of an eye. You’ve been there late in the nights when Michael couldn’t sleep, when that song wouldn’t let him go. You peeled him away from the video games, and though he’s been slowly introducing Trey and Orion into his hobby, you brought him into a realm of reality that he didn’t feel like he had to constantly escape. 

“Is there something on my face?” you ask, watching the way Michael’s been standing under the sprinkle of the shower staring at you. 

“Yeah, you look a lot like my spouse. And I still can’t believe it.”

“That’s funny. You look a lot like my husband. But I swear, it’s been like twelve years since I’ve seen him.”

His fingers are wet, but they’re soft cupping your chin. “I hope I’m a good stand in.”

You shake your head, one of your sudsy hand cupping the back of his neck. “Not a good stand in. Because you’re the best original I’ve ever had.”

The tender confession warms on his entire body. His chest squeezes for a moment and all there is to do is kiss you, pull you in close by your hip and melt into your touch. Michael’s grateful it’s you that he’s spent this last decade with. Anyone else and he’s sure it would’ve gone poorly. But not with you, with you it’s easy--sure there are issues here and there, but you’ve never once wanted to go to bed mad at each other. You haven’t once, even in all the tears and justified anger, felt like the only choice for you was to run. You dug your heels even deeper when the seas got rocky and said over and over with your actions that you weren’t going to leave. 

And sure, there was a couple times that leaving did seem like a more viable option, when rumors kept churning the mill and when it seemed like Michael would never come back home to you. But you stuck it out. You figured out a way to make it work and Michael can’t be more grateful that it's been you. “I love you,” he breathes as the water runs down his back. It’s starting to lose its heat. But he’s warm with you close. 

“I love you. Even if you ‘tink,” you tease, using the variation of stink that you used to coo at the kids when they were babies. 

He laughs, a bit of a squeak leaving his throat. “I do not ‘tink!”

“Hmm, I’d beg to differ.” 

You steal Michael’s sweatshirt, fresh from your shower and before he can object your mother is calling. “Dinner’s ready!” Her shout is greeted by another rumble of thunder. 

“I’m only letting this thievery go because of food,” Michael says to you. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure. It’s not because I’m sexier in your clothes.”

Michael shrugs, a slight noise of agreement leaving his throat. “Potentially.” He stops you right at the top of the stairs, kissing your forehead, down the bridge of your nose and across your cheeks.

Your giggles are high pitched and you’re clutching at his t-shirt trying to curl up and duck away from the affection. “I’m hungry,” you pout, the smell of the tacos floating up from the kitchen now. 

“Oh, dear, let’s get you to some food, stat.”

The dinner is an array of shells, soft or hard, meat, and toppings--ranging from sour cream to hot sauce. You help assemble Treyvon’s plate, only to sneak a couple dabs of the hot sauce for him and he kisses your cheeks. “Thanks,” he whispers. 

“Anytime, bub.” 

Your parents asks about the beach with Trey and Orion are more than happy to recount. They list off who won footraces and how many laps they did in the water. Trey talks about the jellyfish he countered and Orion talks about the shells she collected. Your parents listen carefully, no doubt having heard of all these adventures already. 

“But we had to leave early because the storm,” Orion concludes. The thunder’s been rumbling steadily. You’re not sure if lightning is going to accompany this storm. The windows that are drawn are showing just how dark the skies are and how fast the clouds are rolling in. The rain hasn’t fallen yet, but it’s going to be soon. 

“Blanket fort?” you ask as the kids drop their plates off near the sink. 

“We need cookies,” Trey counters. You can only laugh but have to agree. “Blanket forts require cookies.”

“Let’s clean up first. One mess at a time.”

“One mess at a time,” Trey echoes and takes up the dishrag ready to dry all the utensils that come down from the washing rack. The kitchen assembly line works effectively. You wash as Trey dries. Orion helps put some dishes up where she can reach and Michael floats, drying the larger pots and pans and putting them up for Orion as well. 

Your parents, after the kitchen is cleaned, head up to their room but you take over preheating the oven and figuring which cookies the kids want. Orion takes charge on placing them on the cookie sheet, making sure her sugar cookies are delicately spaced. A loud rumble echoes outside the house and the rain isn’t slow to fail either. It cascades down in sheets and you think it’s definitely a good time to build a blanket fort in the living room. The darkness isn’t thick itself--there’s still an undercurrent of blue in the gray that’s taken over the sky. The rain blurs the outside world, as if your eyes are out of focus. 

Michael’s chuckles alert you that he’s already getting started on rearranging the living room. Orion hugs onto your leg and lower waist as you both look out to the storm. “I want to run in the storm.”

You rub your hand over her back. “You’d get your favorite pj’s all wet and then you’d have to shower again.”

“I know. But that’s okay.” There’s a harsh strike of lightning and Orion shakes her head. “On second thought, maybe not.”

“Oh maybe not,” you laugh and turn your attention to the living room. The fort is coming together. Though the dogs are doing their best to attack the sheets and blankets. And for the moment, you’re not at your parents house anymore. You’re not standing in your childhood kitchen. You’re at home. You’re laughing at your husband’s attempts at building a blanket fort being thwarted by your own dogs. 

“We need a movie!” Trey shouts, popping out from the inside of the fort, one pillow still clutched in his grasp.

“Yes!” Orion agrees. 

You hadn’t necessarily planned on a movie night. But thankfully, you’re better with passwords than your husband and you know from having to troubleshoot with your parents over FaceTime that their TV does have the Netflix app already downloaded. You’re not sure if they’ve logged in or not. “Thank goodness for technology,” you laugh but nod at the request. 

The timer for the cookie’s finally chimes and you pull them out of the oven. They’re perfectly golden, filling the whole kitchen with the smell of baked vanilla and sugar. Orion gets a plate of cookies as does Trey. The rain is still falling in sheets, hitting the panes and side of the house and coating the background in a white noise, a constant and steady sound. Michael’s turned out of the main lights to the living room, leaving on the soft table lamp that can’t fully bleed due to the sheets, but it cuts through just enough. 

You and Michael settle towards the back of the fort, the kids laying on their pillows as you pull up the app. It takes a few minutes to settle onto a movie. Michael jokingly suggests a scary movie but Orion’s adamant against it through Trey looks intrigued. Michael winks at him, noticing the twinkle in his eye. Orion no doubt won’t make it past the first movie and when she falls asleep, Michael knows you’ll put it up to a pure vote. Trey nods at his dad and let’s the choice for the animated Spiderverse movie be the family friendly win of the night. 

Michael’s hold around your waist is reassuring and you rest more weight into him. “Look, I’m voting no on a scary movie. But if something happens after I’m asleep and Trey has nightmares, it’s on you.”

“There’s nothing that gets past you, huh?”

“Of course not. I see,” a yawn interrupts your thought, “everything.”

“Can’t see nothing with your eyes closed.”

“I can see perfectly fine with my eyes closed,” you retort. Michael doesn’t say anything when you snuggle deeper into his side, arms winding around his torso. The kids giggle, even dance along to some of the songs in the soundtrack. Michael watches them, a smile on his face. These are his kids. They can sometimes butt head in ways he hadn’t ever imagined kids could do, he’s happy that they’re his. Orion acts out Doc Oc’s big reveal scene and Trey’s laughter keeps him from acting seriously. 

The dogs catch onto the ruckus and start to investigate but when neither Orion or Trey given in too seriously they settle back down. And it’s just his kiddos, being the absolute joy that they are, acting alongside a film they’ve seen way too many times. But no matter how many times they beg for it, or agree on it, they love it all the same. There’s still the same wonder and awe like the first time they saw it. 

“Let me guess,” you start, eyes still closed. “Orion’s Doc Oc. Trey’s Miles, you’re Peter Parker and I’m just the old person in the corner half asleep.”

“Close. I’m the old man in the corner with his spouse, so you know, two old folks today.”

“Damn,” you giggle, slowly opening your eyes. “I’ll get it next time.”

He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Definitely next time.” 

It’s only in the silence of the credits fully rolled that, Michael notices that the storm’s mostly passed. It’s still dark, and there’s still a soft patter of rain, but it seems the brunt of it has come and gone. Orion’s crawled up into your lap and you’ve turned, curling up around her. It won’t be long before the two of you fall back into sleep. 

Trey grins, but follows behind Michael as they take the plates and place them into the sink to be washed from the sugary goodness. “Thanks,” Michael grins taking the plate Trey’s carrying. 

“You’re welcome, Dad. How scary are we gonna get?”

“How scared do you wanna be?”

“I ain’t scared.”

Michael can’t help the laughter that shakes his shoulder, watching Trey puff out his chest. “Well, we’ll definitely see about that.” 

Trey nods defiantly at his father. He can handle scary things. It’s not even real in the end. Once the dishes are done, they slide back into the blanket fort and Trey lays across his pillow again as Michael browses the horror section. If you were awake, you would’ve snatched the remote by now and landed him with stern glare. He knows that you sneak the hot sauce. And he’s sure you know he sneaks things too. What would be the point of it all if their kids didn’t feel safe and understood? Sure, it probably doesn’t make sense to sneak like this and the two of you could have an adult conversation. But sometimes it’s nice. It’s just a thing that him and Trey have. Because they kids need that. They need a thing that they have just with one parent, so that they always know that they’re going to be there. 

They eventually settle on a movie. It’s not too scary, but the introduction definitely pushes the boundaries on the amount of gore that Michael would normally let slide. As it progress, the blood volume reduces. It’s mostly jumpscares that the movie relies on, but one or two even get Michael. Trey sits up and without much thought Michael leans forward. Not to swoop in just yet but hovering close by, just in case. There’s a lull in the plot, and Trey seems to relax. 

“Want to call it quits?” Michael asks.

“Like ten more minutes,” Treyvon offers. It’s not too bad, but it does scare him just a little bit. And it’s mostly that beginning. He’s used to movies that start a little slower on the whole gore thing and this one started right out of the gate. He’s not sure if ten more minutes is the smartest idea. But the end has to be coming up soon. He can hold out for just a little bit longer. Though, as it progress, that uneasy feeling creeps back up. Trey turns and finds his father’s hand already stretched out. 

“Done?”

Treyvon shakes his head. It’s a small comfort to settle into his dad’s lap. “How much more time is left?”

With a quick pause, Michael reveals they still have half an hour left. “Still a good chunk of time left.”

“Can we take a break?”

“Yeah of course.” Michael exits the movie completely letting the Netflix homepage fill the screen of the TV. Treyvon exhales, burying his face into Michael’s chest. “I’m sorry. Didn’t seem so bad.”

“Not your fault,” Trey mumbles. 

Michael runs his hand over Trey’s back, holding him tight and secure to his body. “You’re safe. I’m here. And there’s Southy and Moose to protect you too.”

“Dad, I love them. But they’re old,” Trey laughs.  

“Oh, Moose,” Michael pauses on the thought. “No, come to think of it, she’d roll over for pets in a heart beat.”

“See!” Treyvon giggles. 

“Palette cleanse. Let’s watch some cartoons.”

“Maybe we can finish that movie in the morning?”

“If you’re up for it,” Michael agrees. Michael won’t bring it up unless Treyvon does; it was kind of intense from the start and it’s no fault of Treyvon if he doesn’t want to finish it now or in the morning. They watch another hour of cartoons before Michael can tell Treyvon’s fallen asleep. He could wake you, carry both kids to the bed and properly sleep through the night. Or Michael can let one more episode pass of the show and then turn it off, leaving on the soft lamp and letting himself fall asleep too, just slide down to the floor and bring a pillow up for Treyvon while he keeps close by. 

“Not going upstairs?” you ask softly into Michael’s ear. 

“You feel like carrying either child upstairs?”

With a soft giggle, you kiss his cheek. “Absolutely not.” You settle behind Michael, back pressed into his as you keep an eye on Orion curled up on her pillow and find one the spare sheets to drape over her. 

Michael knows someone’s staring at him. He can feel the fire behind the gaze even if he’s eyes are still closed. If it were one of the kids, they’d be poking at his face or arms, or stomach. Instead it’s just a stare, just the hairs along his neck standing up on end. “If I’m in trouble, can I have a cup of coffee first?”

“A scary movie? Michael, really?”

It’s right on the tip of his tongue to make a joke that the omission of the nickname babe is much too severe for one scary movie. But if he says that, it’s going to reveal the whole secret. “We did a palette cleanse. I was up the entire time.” Michael blinks open his eyes to see you, kneeling next to him. The kids are missing from the fort. The clink of forks alerts him that they’re probably eating breakfast. 

“He’s been quiet the whole morning. Which is not like Trey at all. You say no to hot sauce but yes to a fucking horror film.” Your voice is firm but a whisper. 

“You say yes to hot sauce and no to horror films.”

While Michael’s right, and you don’t want him to be, you know you don’t have a full leg to stand on. Sighing you fall to your butt, hugging your knees to your chest. “Fix it. I don’t care how. Don’t care if it’s ice cream at every meal. But I need my son back and you agreed to the horror film.”

It’s a fair call and Michael nods, finally sitting up from the floor. “On it. Also, good morning.”

You huff, and swat at his butt as he crawls out from the fort. “Good morning to you too, angel.”

He giggles at the sickly sweet sarcasm but pads into the kitchen. Both kids sit, eating at their waffles and bacon. “Morning, Papa Bear!” Orion greets with a bright grin. Michael kisses the top of her head and squeezes Treyvon’s shoulder. 

The boy is slow to meet the gaze and mumble out a greeting. Michael knows it’s bad. He probably should’ve turned the movie off after the first fifteen minutes. Orion’s finished first and gets excused from the table. The thud of Michael’s coffee cup echoes for a moment. “How’d you sleep?” Michael asks. 

“Okay.” There’s a pause and Trey looks up from his plate. “Movie was a little scarier than I thought,” he whispers, glancing into the living room, trying to keep the secret from you. 

“It’s okay. It scared me a little too at times.”

“I think Mom knows something. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Michael ruffles Treyvon’s hair. “Bud, the only one getting into trouble might be me. But not you. You got my permission to watch the movie, so it wasn’t like you disobeyed anyone and you didn’t break a rule. I just picked not the best film for us to watch. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you that badly with the film.”

There’s not a rule against scary movies. Most of your objection is just Trey’s age and wanting to wait until he’s a bit older. However, Michael knows that sometimes a good scare isn’t that bad. Besides, the movies normally get vetted by him first. Michael looks through them to see which ones are too violent or not appropriate for kids. And last night, on a slightly last minute decision, Michael made a call and it was just the wrong one. That’s his mistake not Trey’s. 

Treyvon nods at Michael’s apology. “I-I don’t want to finish it. I wanted to look strong, but,” he shakes his head. “I don’t--”

Michael nods. “No problem. We can watch more cartoons, get some ice cream at lunch.”

“Mint chocolate?”

“With all the sprinkles your tummy can handle it,” Michael grins. 

“Add gummy bears and it’s a deal.”

Michael thinks for a second, running a hand over his beard. It’s an instant yes. But he pretends for just a moment. “Alright, you drive a hard bargain. Gummy bears too.”

Treyvon’s quick to finish his breakfast. “Thanks, Dad. For like understanding and everything about the movie. And, I know you didn’t mean to pick such a scary movie. I’m-I’m just glad you were there.”

“I’m always going to be there, Treyvon. Always. I’m your dad. I’m always going to be there.”

Trey slips down from the chair and hugs Michael. “Thanks.”

“Of course. You’re welcome.”

[autisticfangpyreclub]

Don’t fear the dark, let it protect you - part two

Lloyd never paid much attention to his dragon side. But he never could have imagined how much it wanted to be heard.

-

The smell of bacon and eggs greeted Lloyd as he entered the kitchen. He sat down at the table, and Zane handed him a plate.

“Sorry, it’s a little cold,” he said with a frown, “we were going to wake you up but…”

Lloyd shrugged. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it…”

He poked at the bacon with his fork, unease gnawing at his gut. He’d never had a problem eating meat before. He ate meat all the time. But the overwhelming smell of grease and burnt flesh coming from his plate was nauseating, headache inducing even. Suppressing a gag, he pushed his plate away.

Cole looked over at him in concern. “What’s wrong, you feeling sick?”

Lloyd’s cheeks flushed. “No, just, uh…” he stuttered, “I’m just not… uh…”

“You don’t appear to have any sort of high temperature,” Zane said, placing a hand on Lloyd’s forehead, “though your face is very red… is there something wrong with your food?”

Lloyd gently pushed Zane away. “No, it’s fine, but… do we have any vegetables?”

Zane blinked and raised an eyebrow. Everyone at the table gave him similar bewildered looks. “Vegetables?” Zane asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been really craving some all morning,” Lloyd replied, getting up from his seat, “we probably have some carrots leftover from thursday right?”

“Yes, but…”

Lloyd opened the fridge. He snatched up the bag of baby carrots and started shoveling them into his mouth. Zane stared at him, mouth agape.

“Lloyd, are you sure you’re… feeling alright?” he asked as he watched Lloyd toss the empty bag aside and move on to the lettuce.

Lloyd swallowed a mouthful of lettuce and shrugged. “I dunno, I feel fine, why?”

“Because you hate vegetables!” Jay said, “did you fall out of bed and bonk your head or something?”

Lloyd finished off the head of lettuce and stuck his head back in the fridge. He sniffed for more vegetables, growling when there were none to be found. He was still hungry.

Kai placed a hand on his shoulder. “Lloyd, what’s going on-”

He snarled at him, his teeth suddenly much longer and sharper. Kai jumped and drew back in alarm. “Woah, dude!” he yelped.

Lloyd slapped a hand over his mouth. How had that slipped out? His eyes darted between Kai, who was still slowly backing away from him, and the shocked faces of his friends. He shuddered.

“I… I have to go…” he mumbled, and ran out of the kitchen, ignoring the shouts behind him.

-

He didn’t stop running until he was outside the monastery, standing on a patch of grass overlooking the cliff. Lloyd sighed, and sat down to catch his breath. He shouldn’t have trusted those oni in his dream. He shouldn’t have let his oni side take over. Now he was turning into a monster.

...a monster with an unending hunger for vegetables, which to be fair, wasn’t the worst possible scenario. It was almost kinda funny. Okay, the snarling was bad, but he could deal with that.

Speaking of hunger, the grass he was sitting on smelled pretty tasty too…

Before he could stop himself, he was down on all fours ravenously munching on the grass. He probably looked so ridiculous. He didn’t care though, all that he could think of was how sweet and delicious the grass was.

“...guys, I found him.”

Lloyd froze like a deer in headlights. He hesitantly turned to see Nya standing behind him, and almost felt like dying from embarrassment.

“Um… this isn’t what it looks like,” he said weakly.

Nya raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it kinda looks like you're on all fours eating grass like a goat.”

Lloyd looked down at his hands. “Okay, yeah, it is what it looks like…”

He stood up and brushed himself off, as the rest of the ninja gathered around him. Cole laid a comforting hand on his back. “Hey, no matter what’s going on right now, we’re here for you y'know?”

Kai nodded and patted Lloyd on the head. “Yeah, and sorry about what happened back there, I didn’t mean to scare you bud.”

Lloyd leaned into his touch and smiled. “Thanks guys… but you shouldn’t apologize, you were right to be afraid…” he murmured.

“Aw, don’t say that!” Jay said, “we’d never be afraid of you, even if you have turned into a werebunny!”

Lloyd squinted at him. “A… what?”

“Y’know, a werebunny, like a werewolf but a bunny,” Jay explained, “that’s what happened right? You got bitten by one and now you're turning! Oh no, tomorrow’s a full moon too-”

“I’m not turning into a bunny!” Lloyd shouted, “I’m turning into an oni!”

“Since when do oni’s eat vegetables?” Nya asked, “seems weird, given their whole destroy everything thing you think they’d eat meat.”

“Herbivores can be quite destructive, even more so than carnivores actually,” Zane said.

Lloyd groaned and put his head in his hands. “I don’t wanna turn into a giant bunny… wait, why aren’t you guys more freaked out? I just told you I’m turning into an oni!”

“Why aren’t YOU more freaked out?” Jay shot back, “I thought your oni side taking over was like your greatest fear.”

“It was, but… I had a dream last night that I turned into a full oni, but I wasn’t destroying anything, or hurting anyone,” Lloyd said, his body relaxing as he remembered, “it was… peaceful.”

“Have you talked to Wu about this yet?” Cole asked.

Lloyd shook his head. “No… but I think I should, before I start eating grass again… ugh…”

-

Master Wu was deep in meditation when Lloyd crept into the room. He sat across from him, and crossed his legs. Wu didn’t acknowledge him. The room was awkwardly silent for a moment.

“...I sense something is troubling you,” Wu said.

Lloyd flinched, then cleared his throat. “Yeah… so, um… it’s kinda hard to explain…”

Wu poured a cup of tea for himself, and then one for Lloyd. “I’m listening.”

Lloyd nodded in thanks and took the cup of hot tea. Deep breath in. Master Wu is part oni too, he’ll understand. “I had a dream last night… about the oni.”

Something in Wu’s expression shifted. His grip on his cup tightened. “...what happened in this dream?”

“I turned into an oni.”

Wu gasped and narrowly avoided dropping his cup. He coughed, composing himself. “You must’ve been horribly frightened by this vision.”

Something in the way Wu was looking at him made Lloyd nervous. Like he was being interrogated. He tensed his shoulders and looked away. “Uh… actually… it wasn’t that bad.”

An uncomfortable energy settled over the room. “What?” Wu asked, a dark tone seeping into his voice.

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy but when I was an oni, when I was with the other oni I felt…” Lloyd wrapped his arms around himself and sighed, “safe… like I belonged.”

Wu stood up abruptly. He grabbed Lloyd by the arm and pulled him to his feet. “Wait, master, what-”

Lloyd’s next words got caught in his throat. Wu was glaring at him, like he had done something seriously wrong. “Lloyd, listen to me, and listen well.”

The nervous feeling Lloyd had was crawling in his gut, making his head foggy. He tried to pull away, but Wu’s grip was strong. “Master please let me go-”

“The oni are dangerous, deceitful creatures who only crave destruction, you cannot trust anything they say.”

“Master, please stop, please let me go-”

Wu ignored his pleas. “You must suppress the darkness, or it will consume you, just like it consumed your father.”

At that, something in Lloyd snapped. He growled. His nails transformed into claws, and he swiped at Wu with his free arm. He hadn’t meant to scratch him that bad, but from the pained scream Wu made he’d obviously done some damage.

Lloyd scrambled back the second Wu let go of his arm. The smell of the blood on his claws only riled him up more, his eyes narrowing and illuminating the dark room with a neon green glow. “I told you to LET ME GO, old man.”

Wu gaped at him, gingerly touching the gash on his face. “How dare you use your claws against me nephew!” he yelled.

“I am not my father,” Lloyd snarled, “I’ll never be my father, and I do not fear the darkness anymore.”

Green scales covered his arms and legs. He grit his fangs as his horns tore through his skin, this time not bothering to grow them slowly. The pain only gave him clarity.

“You say oni are dangerous and deceitful… what are you then?” Lloyd asked with a scowl.

“Excuse me?”

Lloyd rolled his eyes. “You're more oni than me, and you know it,” he said as he approached Wu, claws bared, “maybe that’s why you lie, maybe that’s why you don’t tell anyone your secrets even when it could help them.”

“What are you talking about-”

“You lied to me!” Lloyd could feel tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, but he pushed them back, “you knew embracing my oni side wouldn’t make me dangerous, but you still made me suffer!”

Wu’s face changed from anger to sorrow. “Lloyd… I’m so sorry, but you must calm yourself-”

“SHUT UP!”

Fiery tears poured down Lloyd’s cheeks. Scales had grown over his entire body, leaving him thankfully fireproof. He cried out as his limbs cracked and popped, becoming more animalistic and quadruped, until he no longer could stand on two legs. He fell to the floor with a thud.

He looked up at Wu, terror in his eyes. “This… this isn’t like what it was like before… what’s happening to me…?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Rigged spikes formed on his wrists and ankles, and along his newly formed tail. He heard a gross tearing noise as large bat-like wings burst from his back and ripped through his shirt. Lloyd’s pained cries morphed into growls. His face pushed out into a snout, the final part of his transformation before he collapsed in exhaustion.

Before he passed out, he saw Wu standing over him. Hopefully this scared him enough to make him never want to grab Lloyd like that again.

-

“Oh youngling, you poor thing…”

Lloyd opened his eyes to see a familiar face leaning over him. A gentle paw touched his cheek. “Oni…?”

The oni smiled, and stroked his hair. “My name is Theta, actually.”

Lloyd groaned. “Theta… what happened? My head feels awful…”

“You transformed into a dragon,” Theta said quietly, “but don’t be afraid, in time you will learn how to control your shapeshifting abilities.”

“But I… I attacked master Wu…”

“Oh don’t worry about that, he deserved it,” Theta scoffed, “he won’t harm you ever again, I promise.”

A calming sensation washed over Lloyd as he was cradled in Theta’s lap. “Um… sorry for the weird question, but what pronouns do you use?” he asked.

“She her dear,” she replied, hugging Lloyd close to her chest.

Lloyd sighed in content, and snuggled into her warm fur. She hummed a lullaby for him, one his father had sung to him when he was little. He felt safe.

“Rest now child… even when you awake in the physical realm, my shadow will still protect you.”

[zabrak-show]

this is kinda long but can i ask for a comedy where maul is a total drama queen about how sick he is? that is, until he sees who the doctor is (rival!s/o, jedi, idc) BUT ITS TOO LATE to insist he's healthy

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A/N: Lol here you go anon! This was fun to write I laughed a lot. Thank you so much for requesting something from me. The end is a bit of a cuckoos nest reference, not sure if anyone will get it, but still funny to me.

Summary: Maul has food poisoning and is ‘dying’. Savage calls the doctor and lo and behold who does the doctor turn out to be?

Warnings: bodily function humor (farts, food poisoning discomfort, see gif for reference lol), swearing, death of a certain character (not maul or savage), dumbassery on my part lmao, is this what the kids deem crack fic?

word count: 2.3k

“Brother, I do not think you should eat that,” Savage tried to reason with the smaller and angrier Zabrak who was about to shovel a leftover curry into his mouth.

“Quiet Savage. Nothing can harm me, I am far too powerful,” Maul protested, gulping down the yellow curry that had been sitting in the brothers’ fridge for maker knows how long. Savage turned his nose up at his brother’s poor dinner choices, tied his pink frilly apron across his waist, and began cooking his own dinner. 

A delicious beef stew, sat simmering on the stove with an attentive Savage breathing in the steam and taste testing the broth every now and then adding spices and sauces as he went, a determined half-smile slapped across his face. Maul sat in his office just off the kitchen on his datapad doing the night’s work, his usual scowl overtaking his stunning features.

“Brother, if you would have waited, you could have enjoyed my delicious stew,” Savage beamed from the kitchen. Maul grumbled something incoherent from his office, but Savage continued stirring his stew and humming a happy little tune.

The next day started like any other. Maul held meetings with the Mandalorians about their next moves. Savage joined in, but he usually spaced out thinking about food and what he was going to cook for dinner later in the night. Savage was startled back to reality upon hearing a very deep rumble emanating from his brother’s throne. The room quieted down in shock at the noise not sure what to make of it.

“Lord Maul, are..you alright?” one of the Mandalorians asked in confused concern.

“I’m fine. It’s the chair. The chair. Something is wrong with this chair.” Maul clearly exasperated and sweating profusely, his usual deep crimson color now tarnished and a faded rust-colored instead.

“The..throne? What is wrong with the throne?” the Mandalorian questioned and stepped forward to investigate.

“No. Not the throne, I mean it’s fine, but it is broken… BACK away. I will have Savage assess the damage later. Let’s just wrap this meeting up for now.

“Brother, are you ok?” Savage leaned down to quietly whisper into Maul’s ear, “you aren’t looking so good.” Another deep rumble emanating from somewhere on Maul, inadvertently responded to Savage’s question. Savage, decided to take matters into his own hands, sensing his brother’s extreme discomfort and also being bored as hell by this meeting.

“Meeting adjourned.” Savage abruptly interrupted, all eyes now staring at the golden Zabrak. He felt his face grow hot with all the sudden attention on him and panicked scooping his brother up into his arms and running out of the throne room. Maul throwing a complete tantrum as he did this yelling, thrashing, beating his brother with his fists. The Mandalorians just stood and stared in confused horror at the spectacle happening before their eyes.

Savage ran down the halls of the Sundari Palace with Maul in his arms, not clear on what he was hoping to achieve or where to go with his now very angry brother.

“Savage, you need to put me down immediately,” Maul hissed through his teeth. Savage, not knowing any better than to follow directions, unhesitatingly dropped his brother on the stone hallway of the palace. Maul tumbled out of his arms like a rag doll making a pitiful sound as he hit the floor.

“Brother!! I am so sorry. Are you ok?” Savage hurriedly knelt down before Maul, now curled into the fetal position, the ashen rust color deep setting into his complexion now.

prrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaappppppppppttttttttt

It was a common sound for Savage having grown up with the nightbrothers and the endless fart jokes the brothers would play on each other, but in his short time of knowing Maul, his brother had never once farted in front of him. He always suspected it was because of the mechanical lower half of him, but never dared ask. The air soon filled with the foulest smell, almost worse than when Savage first rescued Maul.

  “Brother, I wonder if you are sick?” Savage pensively asked the ashen curled up Zabrak at his feet as he picked him up on his feet to stand at his side.

“Of course, I’m sick you idiot. Take me to the doctor. I mean.. take me to the ‘fresh..” he heaved into his hand before finishing what he wanted to say. 

“Oh man, brother, I gotta say, you absolutely cannot spew right now. I just got this armor and well, actually you gave it to me, but I mean, just no like..’blegh’ onto the new threads.”

Maul glared at his brother, shooting daggers at him with his fiery amber eyes. 

“I’m not going to ..spew..” the word itself gagged him and Savage now hurriedly walked him to the refresher. Thankfully, there was one just down the hall and Savage opened the door and threw his brother in and stood guard outside the door. The noises emanating from the small ‘fresher were of the most offensive kind and Savage stood nervously trying to think of what to do or say as he stared down at his nails. A couple of Mandalorians walked by looking at Savage questioningly. He put his arm up against the wall in a flirtatious pose,

“Hey, how’s it goin?” he smirked to the Mandalorians and they skittered away confused by the beefy yellow Zabrak’s placement and actions.

“Brother, can I get you anything?” Savage asked through the door. Maul let out a low and long groan before answering, 

“Get me a doctor, Savage. I...I’m...I’m dying.” Savage gasped at his brother’s revelation.

“Brother, you cannot die. I will NOT let it happen. I’ll find the best doctor in the galaxy for you. I swear it.” 

Maul responded with yet another low groan. Savage ran off to call a doctor for his dear and very sick brother.

After Savage called for a doctor, he managed to get Maul to his bed to rest until the doctor would arrive. Maul writhed around the bed groaning in pain and discomfort. He tried to drink water and eat some of Savage’s infamous stew, but he couldn’t keep anything down and was left weak and miserable. Savage never left his bedside and was a nervous wreck for his brother’s well being. He hadn’t seen his brother like this since he picked him up on Lotho Minor. Maul reached his clammy hand out towards Savage and the golden Zabrak grabbed it at once.

“Savage, my brother, my apprentice...I...I do not know how much longer I have…” the crimson Zabrak trailed off, seemingly too weak to continue.

“Brother, do not talk like that. Your doctor will be here any moment and then you will be better than ever.” Savage attempted to reassure his brother, but it was no use. Maul was determined this would be the death of him and prattled on nonsensically about it until finally Savage just nodded and hummed as his sickly brother went on. Finally, they heard footsteps down the hall approaching the room.

“Oh at last, brother. This must be your doctor.” he rose from his bedside chair to meet the doctor at the door. There was a light knocking at the door and Savage opened it at once. A human man with brown hair and beard wearing a white lab coat stood before Savage.

“Oh thank you for coming doctor, right this way, it’s my brother. He is dying.” Savage motioned towards Maul, who had turned away from the door in his bed. The doctor stepped into the room, clutching his black leather medicine bag.

“Hello there,” he said as he approached Maul. Maul shot up instantly out of bed, recognizing his nemesis’ voice.

“Kenobi!” Maul screeched out with his last remaining amount of energy and then immediately collapsed on the floor.

“No, No no no, Savage! Don’t let this man touch me. He is playing a Jedi mind trick on you. He is no doctor!” Maul sputtered out trying to climb back into bed.

“I am so sorry Doctor. He has been spewing nonsense for the past 5 hours. I do not think he even knows where he is right now.” Savage patiently explained to the Doctor.

“It’s quite alright. He’s not wrong, I am Doctor Kenobi.” he smiled and outstretched his hand to Savage, and the Nightbrother hesitated but inevitably shook it.

“I’m not sure I’ve made your acquaintance, though,” Dr. Kenobi shared with the sickly Zabrak curled up in the fetal position on the bed. This admission enraged Maul and he attempted to get out of bed again fuming at the Doctor.

“I am surprised you could have forgotten me so easily, after I killed your master and you left me for dead on Naboo,” Maul piped out to the Doctor as he slowly walked towards him. Dr. Kenobi shuffled around in his medicine bag for something as Maul continued his advance on the Doctor.

“You may have forgotten me, but I will never for….OW, what the…” Maul crumpled down onto the floor as he trailed off on his diatribe. Savage looked on in horror as Doctor Kenobi removed a hypodermic needle from Maul’s flesh with a smug satisfaction.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Savage roared at the doctor igniting one end of his red lightsaber.

“Relax, it’s just a light sedative. We need to get him hooked up to an IV to replenish his fluids and electrolytes. Can you help me get him onto the gurney in the hallway?”

Savage grumbled, but turned his lightsaber off and helped the doctor move his brother into the gurney. They transported him to the nearby hospital and Doctor Kenobi hooked him up to the IV’s while Savage looked on with worry and hope in his heart.

“He’s going to be fine, Savage,” Doctor Kenobi reassured the anxious Zabrak.

“He said he was dying,” Savage blurted out, tears in his eyes.

“Food poisoning can feel like death, that is for certain, but once he gets his fluids and electrolytes back he’ll be back in full swing in no time. Right now, we must let him rest.” Doctor Kenobi put his hand on Savage’s back and led him out of the hospital room. Savage wandered around the hospital to kill time and soon found happiness at the sight of an ice cream cart outside the hospital. He strode outside forgetting his worries for a moment as the cart drew him in with a happy tune and bright colors.

Maul woke up in a dark strange room, slowly looking around for something to spark his memory of how he got here. He ripped the IV out of his arm and walked around the room, remembering the horrible sickness he had been battling and the loathsome Doctor Kenobi.

“I must escape this infernal place,” the Sith Lord exclaimed to no one. He looked down and realized he was only wearing a blue hospital gown. He searched the room desperately for his tunic and pants to no avail. He rushed out of the room, the hospital gown flowing with the wind of his swift movements, his robot ass in full view to any fortunate onlooker. 

The hallway was bright in contrast with his dimmed room and nurses and doctors rushed around, paying very little mind to the crimson Zabrak sneaking around the hospital. Voices carried, machines beeped, papers shuffled, all the normal ambient noise of a hospital, as Maul made his way down the halls, looking for the nearest exit. He doubled back on one room, recognizing a force signature from his past.

“Could it be?” he whispered under his breath as he entered the dark room. A pale shriveled old man laid in the bed passed out. The smell of sanitizer and death ran thick in the air. The man was dying and laid there like a vegetable.

“Master…” Maul announced to the sleeping man as he grabbed a pillow from his bed and gently, but firmly placed it over his old Master’s face. The slight effort caused a small toot to escape the Zabrak, the remnants of his sickness still leaving his body.

“I would say ‘excuse me’ but…” Maul shoved the pillow down harder, his crimson forearms bulging with effort, “it appears you will no longer need excuses.”

 The old man’s body flailed around in an involuntary attempt at fighting for his life, but Maul stood firm in his position, waiting for the movements to stop, killing his Master once and for all. Maul looked around the room for a way out. As anyone who just killed the man who was an abusive father-figure, teacher, and captor to them, Maul decided to rip the sink out of the foundation of the room in a feat of strength and force wielding. He lifted the busted sink over his head and threw it out the window, quickly jumping out of the hole it created.

It was quite the fall, but he used the force to slow himself down for the impact, the hospital gown blowing up around him exposing all his robot bits and pieces to anyone watching the crimson Zabrak flail out of the stone hospital building. Savage, just so happened to be taking a walk around the building eating an ice cream cone, when he saw the spectacle of his brother tumble out of the hospital. He ran towards where his brother landed with glee and confusion.

“Brother! You are alright? Why did you jump out of that window? Look, they have ice cream here!” Savage was so excited he couldn’t find what to focus on and stammered out a stream of consciousness on his brother.

“Yes. Savage, I am alright. Let’s go home.”

The two Zabraks walked off into the sunset, Maul’s bare robot ass cheeks clapping in the gentle breeze.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-..-.

I just love these brothers what can I say! They deserve to walk off happily into the sunset. Thank you as always so much for reading. xo

taglist:

@brilliantbutbatty

@maulieber

@botherbother-blog

@emissarydecksetter

@wolfpack-arts-industries99

@a-dorin

[gumnut-logic]

The dyin’ slob

This is @the-lady-razorsharp ‘s fault as she pointed a post out this morning.

Was called ‘Cruel to be kind’ but found a better title.

A little fluffy Virgil and Gordon. I hope you enjoy :D

-o-o-o-

Virgil hurried through post-flight. The rescue had been a simple one, fortunately. he had been able to manage it on his own and in the shortest time possible. There were matters at home he would be more comfortable seeing to in person.

Sure, there was nothing serious to be concerned about.

He told himself that as he lowered Two’s hatch and leapt onto the concrete hangar floor.

Really, it was only a flu.

One that had kept his helmet on the entire rescue. God forbid if he transmitted anything to people already in dire straits with their health.

Fortunately, standard procedure kept both him and their equipment bug free.

He still didn’t like it.

Removing his helmet was bliss itself as he strode into the lockers. A few breaths later he had his uniform, baldric and all, stashed what needed stashing and chucked the rest in the laundry.

The hot shower was absolute bliss.

So okay, there may be some aching muscles, but the exosuit had been needed. He could handle it.

He didn’t luxuriate in the water, he had more important things to attend to.

A towel and a loose jumpsuit later and he was padding barefoot up into the depths of the villa in search of the one brother who had been on his mind the entire rescue.

He found him in his bedroom.

The holoprojector was projecting some kind of fish and there was music blaring...well, it could be called music, he guessed. It sounded more like recycling bin lids being smashed together or that time Two had dropped that pod onto the hangar floor from twenty metres up.

His brother lay prone on his bed, eyes closed, brow wrinkled, skin pale.

Virgil fished the remote out of a limp hand and hit the kill switch.

The sudden silence was a blessing.

“Wha-?” Bleary eyes opened and sought out the cause. “Birg?” A slow blink. “Whatcha do that for? Pu’ it back on!” A hand flailed for the remote and missed.

“Gordon, you were told to rest.”

“Don’ wanna. Wanna die active.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying. You have the flu.”

“Dyin’. Tell Penny I love her.”

It was at this point Virgil realised the state of the room. “What the hell have you been doing?” There were food wrappers, crumbs and a smeared slice of cake on the bedcovers.

“Last meal. Wanna go out ‘appy.”

“If you’re eating, you’re on the mend.” Which was a good thing and had Virgil feeling immeasurably better, but his brother’s bed was a rubbish tip and definitely a health hazard. His fingers darted over the covers, nabbing wrappers and several empty crisp packets. “You are a slob.”

“I’m a dyin’ slob. I live an’ die true to my nature.”

“You can say that again.” Virgil grabbed a recycle bin and a pair of latex gloves and began shovelling crap off his brother’s bed.

“Hey, that was still goo’.”

Virgil eyed the half eaten pancake with congealed cream. “Perhaps, if you want to add food poisoning to your death certificate.” It was tossed into the bin. “Where did you get pancakes from anyway?”

“Stash. Emergency stash. I’ secret.” Gordon flopped in a dramatic way. Particularly dramatic since he was still lying down.

An arched eyebrow. “Sure.” But the next wrapper contained the remains of a stick of Blackpool Rock.

Virgil held it up, examining it. “Gordon, is this mine?”

Foggy brown eyes peered up at him. “Oh.”

“Gordon! Penny gave them to me.”

“But I wanted some.” It was such a whine, it was painful.

“Then why didn’t you ask her to get you some?”

The grump that appeared on his brother’s face was almost comical. It would be more comical if Virgil wasn’t holding back the urge to add strangulation to his brother’s supposed death certificate.

As it was, Gordon’s mumbled response was a clear indication that he had asked Penny for some Rock, but had been denied in some manner.

Hence the thievery.

Virgil sighed. “You could have ordered your own.”

“Not the same.”

“But stealing mine is?”

“You don’t mind. You’re a softy and I’m sick.” Yes, that was definitely a childish pout.

“I’m a softy, huh?” He must remember to disprove that allegation and seek the appropriate revenge.

After his brother was better.

Virgil sighed.

Gordon knew him far too well.

“You suck.”

“I’m dyin’ here.”

Virgil shoved a slice of cake in the bin, followed by three more empty crisp packets and a cookie wrapper. For god’s sake, the rescue had only taken him an hour. How much could one flu-ridden aquanaut eat?

There was raspberry jelly in a big blob sitting in a crease of doona fabric. For a split second, his mind registered it as blood and his heart skipped a beat.

“Gordon!”

“Wha-?”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Wa’ accident.”

“You could have cleaned it up.”

“Can’t. Dyin’”

Oh, for crying out loud. “You’ll need to get out of bed and change the sheets.”

“Why?”

Virgil pulled back the edge of the doona to uncover his brother for some motivation only to find that a worm of spray cheese was curled up beside him.

“My god.”

“Wha-?”

“Gordon, get out of bed.”

“Why?”

“I need to change the sheets.”

“Why?”

“Because you are disgusting, that’s why.”

“Don’ wanna. Dyin’.”

Oh, he was getting closer to dying by the moment. Fratricide. Definitely fratricide.

“Move your ass or lose it.”

“No.”

“Gordon.”

“Let me die in peace.” And as if to prove the point, his brother coughed a little and then burst into a horrendous fit, possibly attempting to turn his lungs inside out.

Virgil’s heart softened as he held his little brother. “C’mon, Gordon, relax. Calm your breathing.”

Gordon let out a decidedly childish whimper and curled up under the rancid covers in a ball of misery.

Another attempt. “Let’s get you out of those bedclothes and into something clean. You will feel so much better.”

Gordon grunted. “Leeme ‘lone. Dyin’.”

Virgil straightened up, his back creaking. A sigh. Okay, they were going to have to do this the hard way.

Just like any mission, Virgil gathered his tools first. Fresh sheets, a spare doona, pillow and pillow case. He stacked them up in strategic positions beside his prone and still moaning brother.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get out of bed, so I can change the sheets? You do realise I have a duty of care. One that means I have to make sure you don’t expire due to exposure to your own swill.”

“I’m not a pig.”

“Oh, yes, you are.”

“You hur’ m’ feelings.”

“Too bad. Get out of bed.”

“No.”

“Gordon...”

“No. Lemme die in peace.”

“Then you leave me no choice.”

He didn’t give his brother a chance to question that before ripping off the disgusting doona and throwing it across the floor. Gordon yelped and curled up. He was only wearing pyjama shorts in typical Gordon fashion.

“Virgil!”

Without another word, he stripped the sheets from beneath his brother, whisking them away not unlike a magician removing a tablecloth from under fine china.

Gordon still yelped.

The pillow was chucked and with some determined aquanaut manipulation, the bottom sheet was replaced. Gordon squirmed under his grip. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What needs to be done.”

The pillow was replaced and the new doona gently laid down.

Gordon grabbed at it as if it might suddenly disappear on him again.

“There, done. Please try to keep them clean this time otherwise I’ll do that all over again.”

“You are cruel.” Gordon glared a teary glare up at him.

Virgil grunted. “Yeah, well, you’re disgusting.”

“I’m dyin’. Give me a break.”

Virgil snorted and piled all the discarded bedclothes together and threw them down the laundry chute. He must remember to put in some serious germ killers in with that lot.

“Go to sleep, Gordon. You will feel better, I promise.”

“Hate you.” His little brother curled up into a ball of misery.

“Yeah, sure you do.” He couldn’t help himself, he reached out and brushed Gordon’s hair back from his forehead. He was a lot cooler than he had been earlier.

Thank god.

“You’re getting better. Get some sleep.”

Gordon mumbled something into the sheets and closed his eyes.

Virgil brushed his hair again, gently stroking his fingers against wavy strawberry blond.

He didn’t leave until his little brother’s breathing dropped into the regularity of sleep.

A small smile to himself and he headed towards the door.

Tripping on a stray soda can, he nearly fell flat on his face, barely catching himself on the edge of a desk.

His hand landed in something sticky.

Oh, god.

He bit back his brother’s name as he stalked out.

Disinfectant.

A hose.

Maybe Two’s water cannon.

Yes, his water cannon.

It would solve so many problems.

-o-o-o-

FIN.