#i'm a busy little bee and i regret nothing

[runariya]

Prompt game:

🥰🤪👽

Alien Jungkook's tentacles try to get attention from the reader. But reader is mad and giving Jungkook the silent treatment. So tentacles decide to take it in their hands (?). I'm sorry my imagination is bad, but i trust yours ;)

a/n: I hope it's alright that I used this request as a Y(E)ARNED bonus...it just fits the couple so well

To spend your days alongside Jungkook is nothing short of pure bliss, a kind of beauty that shows itself in moments both grand and unspoken. There is, indeed, a profound sweetness in being the object of his love, of his adoration, a warmth that seeps into every corner of your existence, making even the most ordinary hours shimmer with a peculiar magic. 

Yet, as with all such beautiful things, this love, though a balm for your soul, does not come without its moments of maddening frustration—little flashes of exasperation that threaten, every now and again, to undo all the softness with their dizzying intensity.

It is during these moments of quiet contentment, where you’ve developed a peculiar fondness for collecting miniature porcelain figurines of Earth’s animals—everything from delicate little ducks to turtles no bigger than a thumb, from bees captured mid-flight to cows rendered in the most absurd detail. 

You‘ve chosen each piece meticulously, though the greater part of the collection, truth be told, bears the mark of Jungkook’s love and generosity. There’s no species left unrepresented, no space on the shelf unfilled. But amidst them all, there is one that‘s your favourite, a tiny maneki-neko with a raised paw and a chubby little face, who commands the centre of the shelf of your now shared home. And of all the figurines, this one—Jackson, with his impossibly cute charm—holds a special place in your heart, the only figurine affectionately christened with a name, as if that alone elevates him from all the others. 

So when you hear the unmistakable, gut-wrenching sound of porcelain colliding with the hard floor while you’re busy tidying the kitchen, something inside you breaks too. 

You turn and see Jungkook standing by the shelf, frozen, his wide eyes filled with a kind of helpless guilt, his lips parting to release the softest, most regretful “oh-oh” that barely registers in the quiet room. Jackson, once proudly perched in his rightful place, is nowhere to be seen, and the realisation dawns on you as swiftly as the growing pit of frustration inside you.

“What did you do?” you ask, your voice tinged with horror as you throw unceremoniously the dish towel aside, running towards the shelf, your heart and mind already brace themselves for the worst.

Jungkook’s wide, panic-filled eyes lock onto yours, and as you glance down to to find poor Jackson, or rather what remains of him, shattered and scattered across the floor in a hundred tiny pieces before Jungkook’s feet, your heart shatters too, as though a part of it has been dashed against the cold floor with Jackson. 

“No…” you desperately whisper, the word as fragile as all your figurines, as you resist the overwhelming urge to drop to your knees  and gather the broken pieces, knowing full well that no amount of careful reconstruction will restore Jackson to his former state.

This isn’t the first time Jungkook, with all his towering presence and boundless energy, has accidentally decimated one of your precious figurines, his sheer physicality, though endearing at many other times, always at odds with the delicate world you curated and that is so easily fractured. But this time, it’s Jackson, and somehow that makes it worse.

“I—I didn’t mean to,” he stammers, his voice fumbling over itself as he scrambles for some sort of excuse, eyes darting as if searching for a way out of the mess he’s created.

“Oh, right,” you say, incredulous, “Jackson just leapt off the shelf, did he? Jungkook, you knew he was my favourite! How could you—how could you let this happen?”

“I swear, it wasn’t me… it… it was them!” he protests, pointing towards his remaining two and free tentacles that hover ominously behind him, as though they too have witnessed the grand disaster. The tentacles, however, seem none too pleased with his accusation; they rear up, jaws flexing as though insulted, ready to challenge his words, daring him to continue with the absurdity.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, turning away, exasperation and resignation rolling off you in waves, the whole spectacle having become too much to bear, leaving the wreckage of both Jackson and your patience in your wake as you walk away, tired of this particular chaos.

"Princess, please, I’m sorry!" Jungkook follows you in a desperate attempt to soothe your anger, fully aware that he’s really messed up this time.

But you don’t answer. He’s destroyed your things more times than you can count—accidentally, yes, but still enough for you to give him the silent treatment before you say something you might regret. So when you enter your bedroom, lying down on your side and huffing with a blank stare, you refuse to acknowledge Jungkook, who’s now kneeling before you, clasping your tiny hands in his, puppy eyes in overdrive.

"I’m really sorry, Princess. Please forgive me, I’ll buy you another Jackson." Jungkook’s pleading eyes would usually make you give in, but this time he’s destroyed more than just a replaceable figurine. No, he murdered Jackson, your precious maneki-neko, taking your good fortune with him. So, no, you’re not giving in. You pull your hands away from his and huffily turn around to avoid his face.

Jungkook scrambles to his feet at that, running around the bed, stumbling over his own big feet, and jumping onto his side. "I mean it, I’ll buy you ten! A hundred! A million! Please, Princess, don’t be mad at me." But again, you just turn back around.

You hear Jungkook sigh in resignation as he plops down on his pillow, mumbling apology after apology that you’re not willing to acknowledge. It doesn’t take long before you feel one of his tentacles tentatively brush along your shoulder, but you shake it off, too fed up to accept any affection.

It tries again, but this time, you stop yourself from pushing it away, realising the tentacle—or rather, they—aren’t the ones at fault. A second tentacle soon joins, poking your side as if to tease you into letting go of your anger. But you still are, not at them, but at Jungkook. You start to pet them, though, and the simple action begins to soothe your frustration.

"Oh, so you’re giving them attention but not me?!" Jungkook whines.

"My precious babies," you coo lovingly, "got accused of doing something they didn’t."

"But they did! It’s all their fault!" He shouldn’t have said that, because his tentacles don’t see it like that though, and the next thing you hear is Jungkook yelping, "Ouch! Don’t attack me! Ouch! You’re supposed to protect me! Hey!"

You do your best to suppress the laugh bubbling up, knowing full well Jungkook deserves it for lying so boldly. When his tentacles slither back towards you, settling over and in front of you, you resume petting them, while Jungkook sulks silently behind you.

Your anger gradually fades, the soothing motions of Jungkook’s tentacles helping you calm down. "Do you know why Jackson was my favourote? He was the first figurine you ever gave me. On our 100th day anniversary." 

He remains silent, so you go on. "He wasn’t just a figurine. He was a symbol of our relationship and our good fortune."

"I’m sorry," Jungkook whispers, clearly sad now.

"You can’t replace him."

"I know."

"And you can’t make him whole again."

"I know." His voice is faint now, as if he truly understands just how deeply he’s messed up.

His tentacles begin to run along your arms, sensing your sadness too. You feel movement behind you, and as Jungkook’s breath fans across your neck and his big hand lightly strokes your arm alongside his tentacles, your resolve to stay mad a little longer disappears entirely. You turn around, facing his beautiful face and mesmerising eyes.

"I never understood why he was your favourite, but now I do. I’m really sorry, Princess."

"S’fine," you mumble, gently stroking his cheekbone.

"Do you want to know what my symbol of our relationship is?"

"Hm?"

Jungkook’s connected tentacles lift behind his back. "This. And this is something that’ll never break, no matter what."

Your eyes well up with tears because, frankly, he’s right. It shouldn’t be a fragile figurine that carries the very symbol of your love, but Jungkook himself. You regret ever giving Jackson that meaning, because there’s something so much stronger than porcelain—a living, conscious bond that shows just how meaningful and overwhelming your connection with Jungkook is.

"I’m sorry."

"You don’t have to be. Please don’t say that. I love you, Princess."

"I love you too, Jungkook."

And it's true, you’re the happiest woman in the world, now and always.

[sowritten]

𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓

trigger warnings apply, adjust as needed.

the police have a few more questions.

how are you doing?

it's lots of this and not knowing what to do next.

you're part of this family.

how you doing, kiddo?

I thought you should have been there.

I was outvoted.

he was so hairy, and I've dated italian guys!

are you leaving?

everyone idolizes their dad, right?

where do you come up with that?

why are we doing all of this again?

I read a tweet about a new yorker article about you.

you're famous!

I know who you are.

I read your profile in the new yorker and I found it delightful.

why are you here?

it's just not the same.

are you baiting me?

that's where the real money is.

this is not how I wanted to have this conversation.

you tell her, or I will.

that's none of your business.

I don't know how this mix-up happened.

please, you don't understand.

I know it will hurt, but it's all for the best.

my mind's made up.

just the thought of lying makes me puke.

I feel like I shouldn't be here.

it makes no damn sense.

we are not breaking tradition on my birthday!

you really love drama, huh?

you wanna do drugs?

you know, this is an interesting and efficient method of murder.

I need to write this down.

listen to me!

I thought I heard something.

what do you want me to do?

you've got to be kidding me.

I keep waiting for the big reveal.

those two things don't even conflate.

don't point at me!

I'm warning you!

financially, I'd like to help you out.

I stayed hoping to speak to you a little bit more.

I trust your kind heart.

how about it, watson?

you do as I say and everything will be just fine, I promise.

sweet beans!

what is this? what's this arrangement?

it's funny you're here at all.

why are you even bothering?

we gotta do this more often.

this might be the best thing that could ever happen to you.

nothing good is ever easy.

eat shit!

what do we have here?

this can't be legal.

you little bitch!

did you know about this?

were you in on this from the beginning?

I totally understand what you must be feeling right now.

okay, seriously though, what the hell?

it's the only thing that makes sense.

[name], tell me everything.

did you just google that?

I suspect foul play.

I don't care if I go to jail.

you've come this far, let me help you go all the way.

you should do whatever you think is right.

I won't let that happen.

how do you know all this stuff?

[name], do you hear me?

do you regret helping me yet?

this is going well.

I feel like I swallowed bees.

I couldn't do this without you.

that was the dumbest car chase of all time.

I don't know what you want.

we have to figure it out, right here, right now.

you did this!

you won't get away with this!

this will tie everything up.

you're not much of a detective, are you?

you make a pretty lousy murderer.

perhaps we deserve each other.

you've always been good to me.

that was certainly not what I was expecting at all.

why did you hire me?

you can't be that crazy.

that's some heavy duty conjecture.

you are guilty of nothing but a few amateur theatrics.

are you back again already?

this is stupid with two o's.

you have not a shred of evidence.

in for a penny, in for a pound.

I knew you were guilty as shit.

don't you come near me!

I'm going to say this just to you.

you think I'm not going to fight to protect my home?

oh shut up!

yeah, I killed them.

what do you got on me?

you'll see just how much hell I can wreak on your life.

I have a feeling you'll follow your heart.

[unluckyhoneybee]

Liability (Nico Hischier)

By Lorde

When you thought you would be left alone once again, Nico showed back at your door and made you see not everyone is so willing to leave. He wanted to stay. Honey Bee's 2000 celebration.

Warning: mental health struggles.

Nico was listening to your stories on the phone. You had called inmidiately after finding a little bird by your door. And now after having set it free, you were telling him the whole story.

The relationship was new. It had only been some weeks of dating and he was still fascinated by you. The way you spoke and your voice lit up and how you smiled. He could picture you, it was so easy to imagine that sweet expression.

"Sorry for bothering you with this. I just needed to call someone" You said with your voice fading down.

Nico frowned. "No, it's fine. Don't worry. I'm happy you helped the little guy"

"I could have made the story short. But you know... Sometimes I can't stop" You embarrassedly chuckled. "I talk too much" Your anxiety crept to your chest knowing that he probably had some stuff to do or was tired from the day.

"Babe, it's fine" Nico insisted. "I promise"

"I won't distract you anymore. You sure are busy"

"YN..."

"Have a nice flight tomorrow. And text when you get to Jersey."

"YN" But you had already hung the call.

Nico made his way to yours quickly, he was lucky he had driven to the airport on his own and didn't have to take anyone with him.

The soft knocks on your door made you look up. You looked horrible. You weren't expecting anyone. There was a yoghurt stain on your hoodie, your hair was a mess and probably greasy and one of your socks had a hole.

So you waited until the person left. But they didn't. They knocked again. Carefully, you walked to the door and peeked through the hole.

Nico. Nico was there.

You checked the phone. His plane had landed not even an hour ago. That meant he had come here first.

"YN?" He called.

You opened it quick and regretted it when you saw the surprise on his face. "Sorry, I-I was doing... Yeah, in- I was busy" You said.

Nico was surprised, worried, taken aback,... He was feeling many things. He had never seen you like this. Your relationship hadn't reached that point yet. You were both still keeping it classy.

"Are you okay?" He asked. You looked tired.

"I am" You nervously said. You weren't. Anxiety had been eating you alive recently. You had reached that point with Nico in which you were just expecting him to leave. It was the moment in which you were starting to feel more comfortable around him so the real you would come out and then he would leave. Just like everyone else.

"Can I come in?" He softly asked.

"Um... I'm not sure. It's messy." You said and tried to push the door. But Nico planted his hand on the middle of it and he was obviously stronger.

"YN" HE said. It was a warning. "You worry me" He whispered.

You panted when you heard those words. Why?.

"I'm fine. There is nothing to..."

"YN, I've missed you these days. I was left worried after the call. I want to spend time with you and make sure you are fine. I just want to spend some time with my girlfriend."

Tears filled your eyes. "Nico, I..."

"Can I come in? I'm sure things are not fine"

You bit your lip and nodded and by when he had taken his shoes off, tears were already falling down your face. "YN, babe"

"I'm sorry"

Nico embraced you in a warm hug and felt you breaking down in his arms. He held you in the middle of your living room, trying to get you to calm down and think about the moment when things had gone wrong, trying to remember if there had been any signal. He thought he had gotten to know you pretty well, he was your boyfriend now and he had expected himself to notice if something was wrong. How had this happened? You weren't okay. Your flat was more than messy, you were more than messy.

"YN, let's sit"

He took you to the sofa and for so long, he let you cry. This was the first time you cried in front of him and both of you were quite scared. But minutes went by and you finally calmed down. Nico kissed your head and cupped your face.

"What's wrong?" He muttered.

"I don't want you to leave" You said in your raspy voice.

"Why would I leave?"

"Everyone does"

Nico's heart broke. He remembered those times you had told him about old friends, about past relationships that didn't last, that family member you hadn't talked to in ages... He never saw a problem in there. People always came and left. That was part of life. He never thought it was a big issue for you.

"I won't"

"You will, eventually. Like everyone else. I will become too much" You laid on his chest and Nico squeezed you hard on his arms.

"Babe..."

"I'm too much to handle. But I understand. I can't force anyone to stay. People stay during the fun part and then leave when things get hard."

Nico couldn't take it. He couldn't sit there and listen to you talking like that.

"YN. No. You are not too much to handle. You are just you and that's amazing." He said cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look into his eyes. "I'm not gonna leave because of who you are. I'm not like everyone else and if you think I am it's because probably we don't know each other that much. But it's okay because we have all the time in the world. I'm going to stay here and help you out, and be here for you, and hold you on bad days, and listen to you ramble on the phone and talk for hours if that's what you want to."

"Why?" You muttered mainly because you couldn't understand why he wanted all of this.

"Because I love you"

"You can't, you don't know me" That was your biggest fear, letting him know the real you and then him leaving after that.

"No?" He softly asked.

"No"

"Then I would like to get to know you. The whole you." He whispered and kissed your forehead.

"Nico..."

"I promise I won't go"

"Even if I get like this quite often?"

He nodded. "I'll be here to help you out. And if I can't because I'm away, I will make sure you are fine in the meanwhile"

You pouted and he cupped your cheeks so gently.

"Please. Show me who you really are"

"A proper mess" You muttered with a weak laugh.

He smiled and kissed your lips.

"I'm in"

"Are you sure?"

"100%" He brushed a loose strand of your hair. "Let's get you into clean clothes"

"I'd like a shower" You whispered. "But I'm too tired"

"I'll go and help if you let me"

And after washing your hair with gentle fingers, he hugged you from behind. The soft music in the background made you two swing slightly.

"YN" He whispered.

"Yeah"

"I love you. I love already. I can't wait to see the rest"

Tears came back to your eyes, but this time, they were happy tears. Happy tears because for the first time, someone had stayed and held you. He was willing to stay with you.

Nico's eyes were closed and his breathing was slow, but he was leaving light kisses on your face.

"Nico"

"Mhm" He kissed your lips slowly.

"Thank you"

Note: I'm open to write more about this. Just tell me.

[sim-ply-lilacs]

My dearest friend Irene,

In the months that have passed since my wedding, I have been surprised time and again by what it is to be a wife.

To my unending delight, I have discovered that what the bitter old gossips said is not true. My husband not only tolerates, but actively enjoys my company. Dear Josef would be outraged, I think, to hear I'd once been told that I would do well to find a deaf husband, so I could chatter on without driving him to distraction. Many days, we find ourselves distracted from work in the fields by our own good humor. I must confess—I find a great deal of enjoyment in making him laugh!

Lest you think us to be a lazy bunch, I must tell you we work quite hard on the farm! Mother and I have set ourselves to learning many new skills, so we might be useful to the running of things. There is no room for the lazy here! After all, when most of one's income is dependent on infrequent harvests, one must find ways to supplement one's income in the interim.

Josef has taken to helping the local fishermen with their catch in exchange for a few coins to keep us in ribbons and shoe polish, and I am proudly selling some of our milk and eggs every day to the general store. The grocer is kind enough to charge less interest on our account in exchange, and his wife and I get on nicely.

Mother, however, has made the most surprising shift of all! She has always done her little fancy things—she used to win those blue ribbons for her embroidery, you know. Lately, however, she has become a student of woodworking! Her knife blocks and little figures take in tidy sums at the market we travel to in neighboring Henford once a week to sell our wares, and I'm thrilled to see her getting recognition. At the least, it keeps her mind off of Father's passing. That is hard to do most days.

As for me, you'll be pleased to know that I am no longer the sad little wretch who could not boil an egg that I was when we met on Papa's business trip to San Myshuno. I am learning to cook! I have baked bread without poisoning Mother and Josef several times now, scrambled eggs without dropping in their shells, and stumbled my way through a passable stew or two that my dear man ate without complaint.

He never intended to be a farmer, my Josef. Before his father died, he'd intended to be a professor of music in Austria, but to care for his mother and brother, he took over farming the land from his father. When his mother also passed, he came here. As I understand it, an uncle of his and his brother Franz operate the property now. He still regrets not finishing his education, but he is a marvelous farmer. As if it were knowledge granted to him from God, he plants things together that grow better than they would apart. Some may say it's because we are blessed to have good soil, but I know it's more than that.

I am impressed watching his keen mind at work most especially in the quiet moments. Sometimes, we fish together in Henford when we go to market, and he tells me all about the composers he studied.

Papa took me to the opera, once. Did I ever tell you that? I thought there could be nothing more beautiful this side of heaven. Nothing was—until I listened to my love tell me about Schubert, about Bach, and of Mozart. Sometimes, he will sing to me. Josef has a beautiful baritone. It is rich like the honey our bees make and just as sweet. I am convinced I must cajole him to join the church choir, but for now I am content to keep him to myself. Perhaps that is selfish of me, but is it not a wife's prerogative to keep her husband to herself?

Even more than our fishing and our singing, I enjoy our time alone in the evenings—not in that way, you cad (though I do now enjoy that quite a lot, thank you very much. Your advice on the subject was invaluable).

Every night, we sit by the fire in our little parlor area after we eat a dinner whose quality varies by the day, and talk about any and everything we desire. Mother retires early in her grief. I am saddened by this, but choose to be optimistic. You see, friend o' mine, this means we are free to be true newlyweds and sigh and dream over the future, whispering our sweet nothings, or merely gazing at each other like cow-eyed courting youths at the parish picnic. Having done so little of that in my own schooldays, I like to think I'm making up for lost time. It is so much more delicious to be silly and love struck when one no longer requires a chaperone!

Oh, how I love this man! He loves every bit of me, even the absurd little bits that I should discard as the respectable matron of Idyllwind Farm (the fanciful name I have christened our patch of earth with), and together we love this life of ours. Do write back, and tell me you and your family will move out here to Brindleton. You must! Leave that horrid city behind and come work this good land. I swear to you, I have never been so happy in my whole life as I am right now. You and yours must come and share in my joy. Only one, small blessing could make me any happier.

(I pray we shall be blessed with one soon.)

Yours, Mrs. Beatrice Moody

Prev ~ Next ~ Beginning

[james-sunshine-potter]

when i get home, i'm going to bury you...

READ ON AO3 (pretty please :*)

TW/ Vomitting, Death (we don’t see it happen), blood and morgues, smoking, driving under influence (it’s not someone we see or know)

James doesn’t think this could get any worse if he tried.

Like he isn’t even sure how it got to be like this.

It was meant to be a party for Evan’s 19th birthday. A house party which was meant to be a plain excuse to get wasted for a night and regret it in the morning.

James had been a part of the planning due to his (secret albeit) involvement with this friendship group, through Regulus. Mainly due to the fact he had money and a car to drive around town to collect party supplies. But also, regulus wanted him there… and who was he to say no to him?

Him and Regulus had been… a thing for a while now. It was official, absolutely. They had both confirmed it to each other, they were dating and theirs only. He thinks Regulus might be too jealous to anything but commitment, which James isn’t complaining about. The thing was not many people new. Regulus’ friend found out through an unfortunate accident (they weren’t even doing anything that explicit… they actually just missed it…), Barty doesn’t know what a secret means and suddenly Evan, Dorcas and Pandora knew. And because Dorcas knew, Marlene knew.

But for James and Regulus’ luck, Marlene wasn’t big enough to ignore a bribe (money… £120 to be exact, he paid for a tattoo and piercing), so the secret stopped spreading there.

The point was James had been dating Regulus for almost five months now, and Sirius had no idea. It wasn’t like James was never going to tell him, he was just waiting for the right time. He just doesn’t know when the right time was to tell Sirius he’s dating his little brother who he has a complicated relationship which James knew about. He couldn’t see that going well.

Especially since James was the person to properly start it. He started the flirting, the chase (he wasn’t being chased though) and he was the person who asked Regulus out for the first date. Everything else just happened, Regulus made sure nothing was accidental. Regulus was the one to want to keep in private at first, James would do anything regulus asked him to. He loved the privacy, and the intimacy which came with it. Every kiss was just for them, everything which happened behind closed doors was just for them. There were no expectations, no pressure. No one knew about what was happening with them. Regulus is so private that the people who do know barely know anything.

James is almost surprised it lasted this long. He isn’t complaining though. He can’t think of a time where he felt happier. Where he felt more loved.

It wasn’t hard keeping it from Sirius. Every hickey he had was from a one-night stand Sirius didn’t know about. All the flowers? From parents, Sirius never questioned that. Why would he? Love letters? Never seen, completely hidden to begin with. Days busy? Busy at the gym… or at work… or with family… or colleges at work are doing something afterwork and he was invited. He had an answer for everything. Every I was dotted and t’s crossed. Nothing was forgotten or left behind. Plus, Sirius is too oblivious to actually notice any true connection.

That’s how five months were able to happen before they found out.

And how did they find out? Because Barty doesn’t know what the word ‘secret’ means.

Barty who was drunk and probably high, with what James knew was circling the party, spilled the beans to an equally as intoxicated Sirius about how cute James and Regulus are as a couple.

And now they are here. Sirius has been screaming at James for so long, James is no longer tipsy like he was before. Thankfully, with how many people was at this party, the sheer quantity of alcohol and the volume of the music, not many people were aware of what was going on. Only the people watching.

“I can’t fucking believe you’d do this to me,” Sirius cursed for the fourth time, “My little brother, you’ve been fucking my little brother and you were dumb enough to think I wouldn’t care or find out…. How could you be that dumb James?!”

“What do you think happened, Sirius? He dumbly tripped and fell onto my dick; we are our own people!” Regulus snaps back, who has the ability to mindlessly argue with Sirius for hours.

“NO!” They roar, “I think James has jack shit going on in his head since he thought this was ever a good idea in the first place,” The slur to their words being drowned out by Lady Gaga from the other side of the wall.

“Sirius… there’s no need to be rude, you’ve even noticed that Regulus has been happier in the past months, this could be seen as a good thing,” Remus pulled Sirius back by the shoulder, trying to stop this, even though it doesn’t. Clearly already done with this.

James is too. In the twenty minutes of conversation, he’s barely got one word in. Sirius won’t shut up. James knew he was mad… maybe it’s this bad because they’re drunk. Sirius always picked fights drunk.

“I don’t care about being rude, I care about trust! How could betray me like this?”

“Oh my God Sirius, I didn’t do anything to you!” James snapped, sick of Sirius’ shit, “I don’t have some weird sick vendetta against you where I’d use your brother, and no this isn’t some sick joke, and no this isn’t some situationship which I’ll break off coldly once I get bored and no, I’m not dating your brother to make fun of him, which you so kindly think I would,”

James runs a hand through his hair, “I’m dating Regulus because I love him, and I love spending time with him… or I don’t know, he’s his own being and not your possession you give out like a toy,”

Sirius just scoffs, “I know I don’t possess him, but what I don’t like is keeping it from me in the first place and now rubbing it in my face,”

“Firstly, I was the person who didn’t want to tell you for so long, so if you’re going to be mad at someone for that, be mad at me… and secondly, we aren’t rubbing it in your face,” Regulus said with an impressive amount of patience, “If anything, you are… we’ve been begging you to shut up about it for 20 minutes now, I just want to enjoy this party, so does James… and Remus… and Peter, and surely you…”

Sirius has a disgusted look on their face, if James wasn’t so over this, he’d laugh, “Why didn’t you tell Remus, huh? Or Peter? Marlene knew, Dorcas knew, Barty, Evan and Pandora knew… what makes them so special?” Sirius turned around to try and get Remus and Peter involved but it was clear to everyone but them, that Sirius was fighting a losing battle.

“Pads, going to be real, I couldn’t give two shits who James shags, I thought I made that obvious,” Peter said bluntly before straight up leaving the conversation, walking back into the party.

“Yeah babe… they’re being safe, they’re happy and also, they haven’t been making me deal with any mess, I don’t care… I don’t think this is worth the energy you’re giving it,” Remus said calm and cooly, rubbing a caring hand down Sirius’ arm.

It doesn’t work, as they quick turn back to Regulus to have a sparing over who James belongs to and the betrayal of it all. James quickly focused on finding his own out.

Which came quickly. As if God heard his prayers.

It came in the form of a phone call. He always kept his phone on vibrate, because he’s just anxious if he didn’t. So due to his phone anxiety, he’s able to feel his phone vibrate in his back pocket as he starts to zone out from the conversation entirely.

He pulls his phone out to find ‘PRIVATE NUMBER’ displayed on the screen in bold letters.

Now, this could be a scam call about an alleged, albeit fake car accident he was in or an amazing out.

He takes his get of jail card.

“I’ve got to take this,” He abruptly says, bolting as he turns to leave Evan’s place, leaving the door open behind him.

He vaguely hears ‘YOU CAN’T GET OUT THIS THAT EASY JAMES, GET BACK HERE!’ but he ignores it by walking further down the street and answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this James Fleamont potter?” A serious voice come from over the phone. This couldn’t be a scam call cause otherwise how would they know his full name? Middle name included? “Yes, it is… who’s this?” James answered cautiously, slowing his steps.

“My name is Grace Taylor, and I’m calling from St. Mungo’s Hospital…” There’s a pause from the other side of the phone, it isn’t long, but it doesn’t make James feel good, “It says on my records on my records that you are an emergency contact for Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, is that true?”

“I am… yes,” A pit forms in James’ throat as he continues to walk down the street. He isn’t first on the emergency contact list for either his parents, rather the second behind each other for respective parent. If he’s getting asked for both, this can’t equal anything good.

“I’m sorry to inform you but there has been an accident involving Fleamont and Euphemia Potter,”

James stops dead in his tracks, completely unaware of where he was. Not caring if Sirius followed, or even caught up. He can hear them walking up the street.

“Sorry? An accident? What do you mean an accident? Are they okay? What’s… what’s happened?” James barely lets out a whisper.

“I’m sorry to say no, it was a car accident… we need you to come to hospital as soon as possible… to identify their bodies…” He’s sure she is still talking but there’s absolutely nothing going into his head. Car accident? His parents never drive, his mum doesn’t even have a licence. His dad has a car but doesn’t even take it out the garage half the time. They need to identify… he can barely think it. Bodies means dead. He wouldn’t need identify people, people with ids and records and the ability to confirm their own identity, but bodies mangled beyond recognition…

Fuck he’s going to be sick.

“James… you still there?” he manages to hear.

“Yeah… I’m coming now where… where do I need to go?” he can barely breathe.

“If you come to the accident and emergency entrance, you’ll find me and I’ll help you from there, I’m sorry about this, drive safe,”

James drops his phone as she hangs up. He can’t breathe, he can’t think, he can’t move.

This can’t be happening, it really can’t be happening, surely this isn’t actually happening, surely this seriously-

“If you think you could fake a phone call to get away from me, you’re even dumber I thought James!” Sirius starts on again. James doesn’t even turn to face them.

James doesn’t even answer.

“Oh, you’re a child now, not even going to give me answer… not going to look at me?” Sirius is being mean for the sake of picking a fight. They don’t even sound real, their words twisted and echoing through James’ head.

The only thought in his is ‘your parents are dead, mum’s dead, dad’s dead, they’re dead, they’re dead, mum and dad are dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, DEAD - ‘

James feels Sirius step closer to him. He doesn’t react.

“Real fucking mature James,” Sirius pushes James as they drunkenly speak.

And that… that does it. That tips James over the edge, as with no warning to anyone but him, he leans over himself, placing shaking hands onto even shakier thighs and vomits onto the pavement.

There’s a wave of reaction, none of them good but that doesn’t stop James from going again.

And again.

And again. Until there’s nothing left inside him, until he’s doing a weird mix of dry heaving and coughing. He doesn’t stand back though.

“Shit James, are you okay?” Regulus is suddenly by his side, magically. Adding to the stars he’s seeing. Placing strong hands-on weak arms, crouching down so he can meet James’ eyes.

“Hospital…” Is all that he manages out around the taste of vomit and poorly timed coughs.

“Hospital? What do you mean?” Regulus parrots back, understandably confused.

“Called… it was the hospital… I need to go to the hospital… now” James says, spaced out and feeling a little lost, as he stands up. Regulus catching him as he sways.

“You need to go to the hospital? Are you feeling sick?” Regulus immediately sounds terrified.

“No… parents there… hospital called…”

And really, that’s all he really had to say for Regulus to click. James, even in this spaced-out space, can see it click.

“Okay… okay I’m coming with you, Remus can you go back in and get him his keys and some water?” Regulus told Remus, leaving no room for arguments. Remus left without saying anything.

“Uhm you aren’t going to go with him Regulus,” Sirius says, dumbly thinking it’s a good time to speak, “If anyone should go with him it’s- “

He gets cut off by a sharp slap to the face. If James was more with it, he would reacted let alone cared. But he wasn’t, so he just watched.

“You have done more than enough tonight, you aren’t going anywhere with him,”

Regulus takes James’ hand and pulls him away.

James just follow.

-•-

James is sitting in some chair, in some corridor of some part of St. Mungo’s Hospital waiting for some mortician.

Turns out, the accident was worse than bad. It was horrible. Friday night was always their date night, they never missed it. They had gone to a new restaurant in London which a friend had recommended. They were taking a taxi back to the station when the taxi ran a red light, which caused a bus to crash into the back of the taxi.

They weren’t ones driving, but they were the ones killed.

The taxi driver they had was apparently high behind the wheel. If James hadn’t already thrown up everything previously, he would have again. What made it so much worse was that the driver wasn’t even hurt. Not a single scratch on his body. James could kill him. If he ever saw him, he could him for killing his parents. He’s not proud of it, but he could. He hopes the taxi drivers rots in prison.

He was just waiting for the mortician to come collect him, so he can do what he came here to do.

Regulus is sitting next to him, never have letting go of his hand. He sits there silent, like a saint. James worships him like he is one.

“I can’t remember when I spoke to them last,” James whispered. The silence is thick, it’s killing him. He needs to break it, by whatever means how.

“Sorry?” Regulus whispered back, obviously shocked by what James had said.

“I always call my mum on a Wednesday, we’ll talk for an hour about something… literally anything… then she’ll pass me over to dad, and we’ll talk money and work…” James paused and looked into Regulus’ eyes. His eyes could solve a million of James’ problems, and yet they couldn’t even scratch the surface on this one.

“I can’t remember if I called them or not,” James admitted, guilt in every word.                                                                                

“I know you did… I walked in on it,” Regulus whispered, pressing a hot kiss onto James’ cheek. Sparking a small smile to bloom on James’ face.

“I’m not going to leave your side, you know that. I’ll be there with you the entire time… I’ll enter holding your hand and leave doing the same you understand?”

James nods, his eyes suddenly feeling wet. Regulus just kisses him.

They sit in silence for not much longer when mortician comes out, a man in a uniform behind him follows like a shadow, to conduct this. It was a borderline fight to let Regulus come in with him, something to do with him ‘not being an emergency number’ and ‘not being family with the victims’, but it ends with James refusing to do anything without him there.

Regulus comes in and stands by two lumps on metal tables face them. The morgue feels much worse than he could have ever prepared for. Drawers which hold bodies line the walls, there are supplies and knifes lining the walls. Everything feels so… dead. The lighting feels sickly. There’s no life, no pulse. It smells of antibac, sterile. Like the dead people never lived to begin with.

“Just tell me when you’re ready… just take your time,” the mortician says, clearly detached by the idea of having to identify bodies.

James just stands there and breathes, even though it feels like it isn’t getting there. He can’t feel anything, which he should care about, but he doesn't. He just doesn't. He can feel Regulus’ hand, but he can’t feel the warmth that comes with it. He can feel the softest touch of Regulus wrapping an arm around his waist, but he doesn't feel the support like he usually does.

He could stand here and avoid the inevitable until they decompose. He kind of wants too. Denial is the easiest way to live life. Something his dad would parrot on about on their weekly phone calls. ‘Just because you can avoid something, doesn’t you should… it doesn’t go away, it just comes back harder’.

He takes a deep breath, grips Regulus’ hand to the point he might break it and bites the bullet.

The mortician pulls back the cloth and his hand comes up to his mouth in a feeble attempt to muffle the sob that comes in result. He could cry a river at this point.

He confirms the identity, which triggers the officer to leave, along with the mortician leaving with a comment with giving them some space.

They’re barely recognizable, James only recognised through their wedding rings. Scratched and worn and loved. Shiny silver gone dull, chips in the once sparkling sapphire, chipped and bloody. His dad had it custom made for her, as it was her birthstone. He did it before he even had the money to actually afford it. He sold a watch and his car for it. He told him that story every wedding anniversary like he’d forget. They never took them off. No matter what.

Fifty years together, and they died together. They loved and died by each other’s side.

There’s poetry in that somewhere.

He let goes off Regulus’ hand and walks closer to them. And he just stands there. He doesn’t do anything. He wants to touch them. Hold their hand, move the hair out of their face, something. But he thinks his heart might stop if he does.

But there is one thing he wants to do.

“Could… could you get their wedding bands?” James whispered, gentle with his words, “I don’t want them to get lost…” Regulus does it without saying a word. He’s gentle as he lifts dead hands and slides rings off with ease, putting extra care not to touch anything he shouldn’t. He hands the rings to James and places his arm back where it was.

A part of James wants Regulus to leave, the stronger part of him thinks it might kill him. Lay bloody and dead with his parents. Bury himself six feet underground.

They stand there for what feels like hours, and Regulus doesn’t hesitate once. He hugs him when he breaks down, he whispers reassuring words that no matter what happens, he will not leave James’ side, even means getting into more fights with Sirius. That no matter what happens, he isn’t alone. And all James can think is he’s so thankful for a five-month secret relationship.

So when it's time to leave, James lets Regulus take him home.

James just follows.

-•-

It rained throughout the entire service and wake. It doesn’t stop James leaving halfway through for a smoke.

One of his mum’s friends from school, Minerva McGonagall, spoke the eulogy. It was a lovely speech.

The wake was at their home, James didn’t really have the energy to have it anywhere else.

He stepped out after half an hour, sick and overwhelmed of crowds and conversations and the overwhelming feeling of death. He hadn’t been back home in a while, too busy with work and university for it. It was something he’d say he would pop down at the weekend, surprise them with some flowers and an apology for not seeing them sooner and letting his mum be clingy with care until he went home the next day. Nothing in the house changed. His dad kept his golf clubs the same place, his mum read the same gardening magazines, the same photos of James lined the same wallpapered walls. 20 years of this house and it feels the exact same. He's just thankful he made some effort the week before, otherwise he didn’t know what he’d do. He took them to his favourite pub by the beach and paid. He would never be able to do that again.

He stood at the end of their drive, just letting the summer rain soak him through as he enjoyed the silence. No one is pestering him here, giving repetitive condolences and well wishes. He had tried on multiple occasions to step out, but someone always stopped him. Everyone thought he wouldn’t want a second alone for himself at his own parents’ wake.

And apparently, even now, standing the pouring rain, he won’t get the time he wants. As he hears the front door open, a quick blast of chatter getting loud before going muffled again.

He just wants to finish his cigarette in peace.

He turns around to see Sirius waltzing out with an umbrella which certainly isn’t his; it’s his dad’s golf umbrella.

“I’ve been looking for you for like half an hour…” Sirius puffed as he stood next to James.

“Well, you’ve found me,” he says before taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Mind if I pinch one?” Sirius asks, as he covers James with the umbrella.

James puffs out a cloud of smoke before pulling out his packet, and Sirius takes one. Lighting it with their own lighter.

They stand in silence as they smoke. He can only begin to imagine the lecture his mum would give him if she ever found out that he smokes. They never knew he smoked, either of them. He would have definitely found out if they did.

“I… I’m sorry,” Sirius says as James puts out his cigarette.

“Unless you’re about to reveal you secretly drive taxis, I’m not too sure what you’re apologizing for, mate,” James said kind of dryly, not really that interested in having a conversation.

“Well, lucky for you, or me, I don’t… my reaction to you dating Reg,” and fuck, James almost forgot about all that, he’s had some much to do that it completely slipped his mind till now, “I was rude, too rude… as much I’m not thrilled about the idea of you shagging my little brother, the stuff said stuff which was uncalled for,”.

“Am I hearing you admit that you were wrong?” James jabbed.

“Don’t expect to hear it ever again… it’s just…” Sirius sighs as they put out their cigarette on the wall next to James, “I guess in my head, all you two were doing was screwing, which never ends well…” Sirius turns to actually face James. James returns the favour.

“But it’s clear that you two really care for each other, I mean I’ve watched Regulus show you care and patience I wasn’t even aware he was able of doing,” Sirius commented.

“If you’re about to give me the big brother protective talk, save it for a day when it isn’t my parents wake,”

Sirius takes a deep breath, “Did they know? Effie and Monty?”

“No… well I never told them, but they also know, so I like to think they did,”

“You’re a good person James, I have no reason not to trust you, especially if my brother does,”

As if he knew he was being talked about, Regulus came out, ready to complain about James being soaking wet cause of the rain. Stuff about colds and ruined suits and ‘how dare you worry me like that! I thought you had down a runner!’.

James just kissed the saint that is Regulus Black and lead him inside.

James just followed.

[godblessyoublackemperor]

stratford on avon travelogue aka benny's really good super nice day (part 1 of 2)

IIIIIII decided to go to stratford on avon today bc i've been meaning to go for a while and I've got this week off (birthday tomorrowwwww) - cham was gonna come too but had a bit too much work so it was just me, and I was slightly apprehensive about that but i actually had an incredible day and I'm going to tell you all about it RIGHT NOW

I left the house at noonish, its a roughly 45min drive from worcester and the drive was actually really nice, all relatively fast b roads/country lanes. I didn't really have a plan for the day other than just walk around, maybe see some shakespeare shit, otherwise just see my little lizard brain took me, so I just set the sat nav for "stratford on avon" and set off. When i got to the town outskirts i immediately saw signs for anne hathaway's cottage so i was like "yeah aight" and turned off, went down some cute semi-rural residential streets and arrived in a nice green leafy neighbourhood with a nearly deserted car park (no bank holiday today in the uk, we have it next monday). I noticed the minimum stay was 3 hrs so i was like hmmmmm and then when i got to the cottage it turns out you can buy a ticket that gets you into all three shakespeare places (anne's cottage, his birthplace, his new place) so I was like hmmmmmmmmmmm *a plan is forming*.

watch out 🐊

I wandered round the orchard/outsidey bits (a little sculpture/statue trail of shakepeare-y stuff) and did a very speedrun-y tour of the cottage itself - I wasn't super invested or bothered about Learning I just felt like being a tourist and it was honestly super fun to just be like no thanks i don't want any information :) i'll just walk around :)

falstaff's belley, also bees

it's nice she could afford such a cool place, she was good in interstellar

After maybe less than hour I emerged from ann hathaway's cottage and by that time the plan had cemented - I was going to go and see how many of shakespeare's three cribs I could see in a day. I didn't actually need to do this because the ticket is valid for a year but it felt like a fun little goal. I also noted there was a handy signposted route into the town centre so I opted to leave the car there and walk - I both did and didn't regret this decision later.

The walk into town was mostly along a long straight boring road but I did see a cool graveyard and a euphemistically named "SCULPTORS" workshop not far away. The walk in total was probably about 15-20 mins but it felt a bit longer, i eventually got bored and wandered off down a side road and finally got spat out of the sleepy residential streets just in front of Holy Trinity church:

(i didn't know that was what it was immediately, again fully did not plan or research anything beforehand, anyway it is apparently a Landmark so, great 👍)

From here it was a short walk along the river, and by that point i was falling slightly in love with the place already - the weather was just sunny enough, it wasn't too busy, people were boating on the river, there were swans and geese everywhere. After a few minutes I saw these and my original plan to visit some dead bloke's houses sort of got back burnered:

When I saw the boats for hire sign my little lizard brain immediately decided it wanted nothing more in the whole wide world than to go on a little boat on the river avon. I thought "yeah aight" and wondered off to find the actual hire point, these were just moored here and the wasn't anyone actually around to hire them out to me.

on the way i went past some big theatre place? i think it was something to with the dead bloke, idk i was thinking about boats.

a couple more minutes of boat focused wandering brought me to the boathouse (on the right^) which was deserted except for the staff who were all sitting on the veranda eating hula hoops. they seemed mildly surprised that i wanted to hire a boat, and explained that they only electric motorboats for hire that day. I had already seen the sign advertising the option between analogue and electric and i was like "yeah aight", so i paid the man and hopped aboard. I was given a brief how-to, and here i should maybe explain I have not been on any kind of boat in a very long time, my experience extends to heavily supervised rowing on a canal as a kid and one (1) time having a brief go at the wheel of a motorboat on a scottish loch when i was 13ish. None of this really swayed or discouraged me however, so consumed was i with the lizard brain instruction to Go on A Boat. I gamely took in the safety briefing which amounted to lever forward go faster, lever back go slower/reverse, turn to wheel to steer, dont fall in (I'll try not to, i responded cheerily, like a real adult), and I was on my way.

aboard the good ship "number 27"

it took me a couple of minutes to get the hang of the steering, but its top speed wasn't too fast and it actually handled really nicely and responsively so the learning curve wasn't too steep, and pretty soon I was whirring happly along

On the return leg I was just working out how to correct after my big u turn (i only had the boat for 30 mins and was only allowed on a short section of the river) when i spotted something odd and brown on the near side of the riverbank and i was like, is that a fucking otter, and lads IT WAS AN OTTER

i look really unexcited here bc i'm trying operate a phone camera at the same time as controlling an unfamiliar vehicle, and trying not to plough said vehicle into said otter. the otter looks really unexcited here bc im just a twat in a boat and it sees those all the time.

The rest of my journey was uneventful but very pleasant, once i got the hang it was a very relaxing and centering activity and i will definitely be back. I brought the boat back right side up and with me still dry and in it, which the dudes at the boat hire seemed pretty happy about, and they were even happier when i showed them the video of the otter.

From here I sort of just wandered around a bit more? By now it was approaching 4 o'clock and S on A is apparently one of those towns where everything shuts down from like 4 to 5, so it was pretty quiet. I wandered up the high street, wandered into a hi fi store, gawked at some turntables, wandered into a weird little "vintage store", took a picture of a tuba, left, wandered around a bit more, and then walked past a japanese restaurant and stopped and was like hmmmmmmmm.

bonus toilet selfie bc i was feeling myself this day.

It wasn't opening until 5 but i now had a plan formed (completely forgotten about the dead guy's digs by now). I wandered back towards the river, found a gelato place, got gelato (elderflower, battenberg and salted caramel, don't question me), and went and ate the gelato with my legs dangling off the steps by the river OH NO I HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT OK PART 1 OF 2 I GUESS

[sharkchanic]

Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Congratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Can't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Cannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Carl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things.

"oh sfoth-"

[megabadbunny]

Rose x Ten, post GitF-au/fixit; angst, fluff, romance, more angst, and possibly some smut later, but this part (and all parts on ff.net) is sfw (minor exception for brief language).

(full-size image)

Minuet, Part III

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII

Stunned, Rose can’t summon the words to argue with him—Please don’t take me home, at least let me say goodbye to my friends first, please just talk to me, please—they all just drift around uselessly, unable to climb their way out of her throat. Silently, she follows after him.

***

The first thing Rose hears upon setting foot in the TARDIS is the sound of her own name, nearly lost amidst the full solid weight of Mickey barreling into her like a freight train.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it, I thought you’d never make it back!” Mickey half-laughs, half-shouts into her ear. His arms wind snugly around her, a pair of friendly boa constrictors squeezing her in happiness. Rose hugs him back just as tightly, barely managing to blink back tears; she didn’t expect to cry right now, but god, it just feels so comfortable and warm, and it’s been so long since anyone hugged her.

“The Doctor said all the links were severed when you when through the mirror,” Mickey continues. “He said it was impossible, he said—”

Suddenly Mickey steps back, his nose scrunched in confusion. “Hang on,” he says, holding Rose at arms’ length while he looks her up and down, eyes traveling over her coiffed hair, her heavy silken gown. “Wow. You look different.”

“Wow,” Rose teases. “You don’t.”

“Well, it’s only been a few hours for me—what about you?”

“About six months.”

Mickey’s face darkens, his eyes flickering over to the Doctor. “Six months?”

“Yep, looks like my calculations were a bit off,” the Doctor says, his voice tight as he breezes past them up the ramp. He rounds the console, tossing a switch here, a lever there. “Well, to be fair, it’s less to do with my calculations, more to do with an unstable time window—difficult to predict, those, especially when they’re in such a sad state of disrepair. But luckily for us,” he says, and his gaze very carefully avoids Rose at that last word, “there was a loose connection.”

The TARDIS shudders around them as it dematerializes, and Rose closes her eyes at the sound of the time rotor grinding, the still-familiar vworp-vworp noise and the soft and gentle buzz-hum underneath. She places a hand against a coral strut, relishing the sandpaper-roughness beneath her fingers, and this time she doesn’t fight the tear that trickles down her cheek. It’s as if a hole was gnawing away in her chest over the last half-year, no matter how she tried to ignore it, but now it’s filling in again. Good grief, but she’s missed these sounds, this place.

“So that’s that,” the Doctor says, as if it’s final, somehow. Rose opens her eyes to find him galloping down the ramp, striding out of the console room. “End of one chapter, beginning of another. Welcome back to the TARDIS!” the Doctor shouts over his shoulder.

And just like that, he’s gone.

“Huh,” says Mickey, watching the Doctor’s retreating form. “That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“I dunno. I guess I expected him to, like, run in here holding your hand and babbling about all your adventures or professing his eternal love or something.”

Rose laughs, and it’s only a little sarcastic. “Yeah, right. Me too.”

“I’m serious.” Mickey glances both ways before leaning in closer, his voice lower now, as if he fears being overheard. “He wasn’t half-mad while you were gone. He was downright manic. It was all sonic this and reverse the polarity that and maybe I’ll check some timey-wimey-whosie-whatsit and what if I could punch a hole in the local space-time continuum without compromising the fabric of reality and blah blah blah, just a bunch of muttering to himself while he ran around the TARDIS and pulled at his hair.”

Running a hand over his own hair, Mickey shudders. “It’s a wonder he didn’t yank it all out.”

“Yeah, well,” Rose replies, fidgeting uncomfortably. “Maintaining the timelines and all that’s sort of stressful, I guess.”

“It was almost scary, the look in his eyes,” Mickey continues, crossing his arms over his chest, protecting himself against the memory. “Like he was a wounded animal or something—you know how they get in the movies, like when they’re cornered, but they’ve got nothing to lose, nothing left in ‘em but the fight, and then everything goes to hell? It was just like that. He couldn’t see or hear anything in front of him, couldn’t think about anything that wasn’t you.”

Something sickly bubbles up in Rose’s stomach, weighing heavily at the pit of it, and she has a sinking suspicion it’s got nothing to do with the corset cinched around her waist. She can picture the Doctor just as Mickey described him, stalking about the console room, alternately muttering under his breath and shouting at the top of his lungs, his frame shaking with the effort to contain the desperate energy inside. She imagines the way his hands would fist in his hair and his mouth would contort in a grimace, his eyes scanning frantically over everything while his mind raced through nearly a thousand years’ worth of memories and facts and tricks and hints. Rose has seen it all before, when they’re trapped at the end of the line, no way out, the fate of a life or a town or a planet or a galaxy weighing on the Doctor’s shoulders.

(She has never seen him act this way because of her.)

“Anyway,” says Mickey, snapping out of his reverie, “Glad that’s done with. Bloody terrifying, that was. Not to mention exhausting. Feels like I haven’t slept in days.”

He punches Rose lightly in the arm. “What about you, though? How’ve you been? Six months, that’s impressive. Probably got a whole truckload of new stories to tell, yeah?”

Distantly, Rose hears everything coming out of Mickey’s mouth, but for some reason, she can’t seem to focus on it, much less discern any meaning. She can’t stop her gaze from wandering over to the corridor where the Doctor disappeared, twisting her hands together while her teeth sink into her lower lip.

“So, you gonna go after him, or what?”

Rose blinks. “Sorry?”

Mickey offers her a wistful grin. “You waited for him all that time, didn’t even know if he’d find you again—but you still love him, don’t you?”

Rose can’t find the words to reply, but really, she doesn’t need to; her silence seems to tell Mickey everything he needs to know.

“You know he’s not good enough for you, right?” Mickey chuckles. “You deserve better.”

Smiling, Rose wraps her arms around Mickey in a tight hug, pecking a kiss on his cheek afterward for good measure. “So do you.”

“Don’t I know it. Now run your arse over there so I can go get some sleep!”

**

Rose doesn’t try to find the Doctor straightaway. Instead, she takes her time, wandering through the halls of the TARDIS. She kicks off her heels and sighs in relief, delights in the coolness of the floor beneath her aching feet, one hand running along the wall as she walks. Its pebbly surface rasps against her fingertips until they’re pleasantly numb—she imagines it’s like a series of little kisses from the TARDIS, welcoming her back.

“Glad to have your wolf again, hmm?” she asks quietly, and maybe she’s just imagining things again, but she can almost feel the hum shifting in the back of her head, its pitch changing ever-so-briefly, like a little flash of golden happiness in her skull. Grinning, Rose pats the wall. “Missed you too,” she whispers.

She thinks of stopping by her room. This dress isn’t getting any more comfortable, after all, and a hot shower or relaxing bubble bath sounds absolutely divine. But that sick feeling still burbles in her stomach, and Rose knows that no amount of scalding water or fruity soaps will drive it away.

Rose could play dumb, if she wanted, checking the garden or the pool or the galley or any other room first, to buy herself some time, to rehearse her words in her head, but she knows exactly where the Doctor is, and she allows her feet to carry her there.

She finds him, of course, in the library.

Evidence strewn about the coffee table in front of the settee suggests that the Doctor must have been tinkering, books and papers and tools and sonic screwdriver all piled atop each other in a miniature mountainous landscape. Amidst everything else is a small globe of some sort—astrolabe is the word that comes to Rose’s mind, except that she doesn’t actually have a clue what an astrolabe is, or even how she heard of it in the first place—but it has been long-since abandoned, its mechanical guts spilled and forgotten. As for the Doctor, he leans back on the settee, his hands clenched over his face, pushing his specs up into his hair.

He doesn’t move when Rose steps into the room. She tries to remember the last time she was able to sneak up on him like this. She can’t.

Rose clears her throat and the Doctor snaps to, slipping his specs back down and reaching for the globe and the sonic as if he never let them go.

“Did you need something?” the Doctor asks. Rose can’t help but notice how tired he looks; she swears the lines around his eyes run deeper than they used to.

“Yeah,” she says. “I…”

She hesitates. Silently, she berates herself for her cowardice. Why can’t she just talk to him—why can’t she just say what’s on her mind? She’s never had this problem with anyone else, not ever, never had to stopper her words or tiptoe on a thousand invisible eggshell-thin rules the way she does around him. Squirming in her gown (god, but it’s absolutely murdering her ribcage), Rose casts about for the best words to open this discussion, because she absolutely is going to initiate this discussion, she’s not going to let him squirm away from her this time, she spent more than enough time putting up with pinching shoes and heavy underskirts and beyond-stupid 18th-century customs and she’s had enough of the bloody damn rules. She’s not going to let him close around her like a corset, cinching her closer and closer only to push her away when things get too tight; she’s going to put her foot down and they’re going to have a bloody talk because it’s ridiculous for them to keep brushing everything under the rug, and this dress is hot and scratchy, and he’s infuriating, and why didn’t she just go take her dress off before this, and wouldn’t it be so much better to have things out in the open instead?

Yes, she decides; yes, it would. Rose steels herself.

“I need help taking my dress off,” she blurts out.

The Doctor’s eyes raise a little in surprise, and Rose furiously fights the blush rising in her cheeks—of all possible things, why, why was that the one that popped out of her mouth?

“It’s just, back in France, there were people to help with this sort of thing,” she rushes, stumbling over her words. “And Mickey’s already gone to bed, and, you know, it sort of seems like a bad idea to show up on the Estate wearing something out of the 1700’s.”

“The Estate?” the Doctor asks, frowning.

“Yeah.” She swallows. “You said you were gonna take me home, remember?”

“Right,” says the Doctor, diverting his attention back to the instruments in his hands.

Rose waits for him to speak again, but he’s strangely quiet. “You are still planning to take me home, right?”

“Well.” The Doctor fiddles with the globe, tapping the sonic against it in a rat-a-tat-tat. “Certainly, yes, I did say that. And. And I meant it. That was indeed a valid threat. No, not a threat—a promise. I am absolutely, positively, definitely taking you home.”

He sneaks a glance up at her. “Unless. You know. You’re not ready to go home yet.”

Relief washing over her, Rose hides a smile. “I think I can wait a bit.”

“Good,” replies the Doctor just a little too quickly. When Rose can no longer hide her smile, he points an accusatory finger at her. “I did mean it, though,” he insists.

“Sure.”

“I am taking you home. Just not right this instant.”

“Got it.”

“It wasn’t a bluff.”

“’Course not.”

“Just…no reason to rush, right?”

Rose beams at him. “No reason at all.”

“Excellent.” The Doctor brushes some nonexistent dirt off his trousers before standing up from the settee, placing his instruments back down on the table. “Glad that’s sorted. So, I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early, then? Tomorrow and early being relative terms, of course.”

“Sure, but, erm…”

The Doctor watches her expectantly, and Rose’s cheeks grow warm beneath his gaze again. “I still need help,” she admits, gesturing over her shoulder, to the laces on the back of her dress.

Eyes following the line of her hand, the Doctor’s face goes blank. Rose thinks she can pinpoint the very moment realization dawns on him, his eyebrows arching once again in surprise.

“Right,” he says, shaking his head. “Yes, of course.” Wordlessly, he spins his finger in a circle, a silent suggestion that Rose should do the same. Rose turns away, forces herself not to twitch at the coolness of his hand on her neck as he brushes a tendril of hair out of the way.

They both fall quiet, the silence only interrupted by the soft sounds of silk and linen whispering against each other while the Doctor works, deftly untying knots and unlacing laces. But for all that his fingers are talented, the Doctor isn’t quite as adept at this as the women at court, and more than once, Rose’s breath hitches as the corset tightens before loosening.

Rose stifles a laugh. She’d be lying if she said she had never fantasized about this at least a little bit, the Doctor slowly peeling a gorgeous gown off her body, unwrapping her like a delectably rich gift. But between the pinch at her waist and the anxiety in her tummy and the ache in her ribs, this just might be one of the single unsexiest things she has ever experienced.

“So, what did you two get up to while I was away?” Rose asks—she tells herself it’s an attempt at playfulness, just a distraction, and not related in any way to what Mickey told her in the console room. (It’s certainly not a quiet way to test him, definitely not a subtle way to see how far she can push.)

The Doctor pulls a lace a little too tight and Rose bites her tongue to stop herself from grunting. “Not much,” the Doctor replies, and Rose could almost believe him. “We mostly just did a bit of research, poked around until I figured out how to get back to y—how to sort things out.”

“Yeah, Mickey said it was only a few hours here.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor echoes, but something about the way he says it is flat, empty.

His fingers still at her back. “Rose, I’m sorry.”

Rose shrugs, squirming in her half-done corset. “Eh, you’re doing your best. Eighteenth-century underwear’s a right bitch.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner.”

Rose’s lips part in surprise. “Ah,” she says, softly.

The Doctor resumes his task, pulling at the laces once again. “It shouldn’t have taken me so long to figure it out, the loose connection in the fireplace,” he continues. “It’s ridiculous, really. I don’t know what came over me.”

At that, Mickey’s words resound in her ears. He wasn’t half-mad while you were gone.

“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again,” says the Doctor. “But still: I apologize. Six months is a long period for a human to be stranded anywhere, especially three hundred years out of their own time.”

“It was only five and a half months,” Rose mumbles halfheartedly.

“Still. I should have done better.”

“Eh,” says Rose. “It’s all right. I knew what I was getting into, crashing through that mirror. I mean, you were pretty explicit about what would happen.”

She drinks in a deep breath now that her ribcage has the room to expand. She can tell by the position of the Doctor’s hands at the small of her back that he’ll be done loosening the corset soon; she tells herself that if she’s going to talk to the Doctor, really properly talk to him, she needs to do it now, while neither of them can see the other’s face. She tells herself it will be easier that way, even if she can imagine exactly expression his eyes and mouth will make.

“I’m actually more upset about how you treated me afterward,” she admits, her pulse thundering at the confession.

The Doctor falls silent once again—doesn’t even emit an irritated sigh or let loose an explanatory bit of babble. He just works on pulling the last of the laces loose, his pace steady and never-changing. Lightheadedness suffuses Rose’s head, filling it like a dull fog, and she knows this time it’s got nothing to do with the corset.

“Look, I know you were just frustrated, and concerned about the timelines, and—and maybe a little worried about me, too,” Rose rushes. (A wounded animal, she remembers Mickey saying; Couldn’t see or hear anything in front of him.) God, she hopes the Doctor doesn’t notice the way the back of her neck flushes. “But you can talk to me about it, yeah? Just let me know those things are going through your head, instead of being all mean and angry at me.”

“I was never angry with you,” the Doctor murmurs.

Brow wrinkling in confusion, Rose glances over her shoulder. “What?”

At last, the gown and corset completely loosen around Rose, enough that she has to clutch her arms to herself to keep the garments from slumping to the floor. “All done,” says the Doctor, and Rose hears him step back, step away. “You’re good to go.”

Pulling together the last threads of her courage, Rose whirls around to face him.

“Doctor—”

He stops, hands shoved in pockets, mouth stretched thin. He waits.

“Just please tell me what’s going on,” Rose says, pushing the words out before she has a chance to overthink them.

Glancing around the room—at the books on the shelves, the other books scattered on the floor, the faded rugs and comfortable old afghans, the imitation Tiffany lamp (or a genuine Tiffany lamp, one never knows)—the Doctor plays for time. “I’m sorry I was so unpleasant to you earlier,” he tells her slowly. Carefully. “You’re right. It was unnecessary. I let my frustration get the better of me. And you didn’t deserve that. You…you only did what I would have done, after all.”

Shaking her head, Rose allows her corset and gown to fall to the floor, leaving her in nothing but a thin white shift. She steps out of the garments, toward him, watching him as he watches her. If the Doctor registers how bare she suddenly is, he doesn’t show it; somehow, despite being fully-clothed, despite the gates shuttering his face, he seems more naked than she does.

Rose approaches him slowly (gently, so she doesn’t scare him off). “Please.”

“What more could you possibly want from me?” the Doctor pleads tiredly.

“Doctor,” Rose breathes, her stocking-feet padding silently over the wood-paneled floor until they come to a stop opposite his plimsolls. She stands very close to him, now, close enough to count every single one of his eyelashes, chart a starfield out of his freckles.

(Rose wonders if Reinette noticed any of these things. Did she admire the shape of his mouth when he spoke excitedly of science and adventure and awe at the majesty of the universe and the turn of the earth—did she feel a warm glow in her chest when his eyes landed on her face, did she sense his double-heartsbeat when they drew close for a kiss?)

“When everything’s said and done, what do you think you’ll regret more?” Rose asks, her voice gone quiet and soft, and maybe just a little sad. “Everything you said and did—or everything you didn’t?”

The Doctor’s hands ball into fists in his pockets, and Rose fully expects him to turn and flee. But before Rose has a chance to react, his hands are no longer in his pockets—instead they’re cupping around her jaw, shocking her with their coolness as he draws her face upward for a harsh and bruising kiss.

A strange buzzing fills Rose’s head and her mind goes completely blank.

For a moment that stretches into eternity, she can’t hear anything but her pulse rushing and roaring in her ears, can’t feel anything but the cool pressure of the Doctor’s hands framing her face and the warmth of his breath on her lips. She stiffens, mouth parting in surprise as her brain races to catch up with everything that’s happening. She half-expects the Doctor to take advantage of the opening, invade her mouth with his tongue like any other bloke would do, pushing past the swell of her lower lip and tasting her like she’s a whole new world for him to explore, but he doesn’t; for all that the kiss is frantic and she can feel his teeth in it, it’s surprisingly chaste.

It’s still too much.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, by the Doctor’s closeness and the way he trembles as he clutches her, by the hormones fizzing up drunkenly in her head, raging a fierce battle with everything else crowding in there—the confusion, the hurt, the shock, and yes, the want, of course the want, the want that kept her going in France, kept her awake more nights on the TARDIS than she’d ever admit, the want that had burned so hot and so shamefully and so deep in her gut that it was easier to pretend it wasn’t there than to acknowledge its scorching existence, always the want—

(But the look on his face when he talked about Reinette, but the things she’d heard and seen back on that spaceship—)

Couldn’t think about anything that wasn’t you

—Rose shoves at the Doctor’s chest, pushing hard so she can break away with a ragged gasp. The Doctor staggers backward, panting a bit himself, his eyes blown as wide as Rose has ever seen them.

Chest heaving, Rose stammers incoherently, steadying herself against a bookshelf. Her mind fishes about for something to say (absolutely anything will do, anything, anything please), but her heart flutters madly in her chest and she can’t think of anything else but that and the taste of the Doctor on her lips.

The Doctor blinks the shock out of his eyes and pushes a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out.

Rose knows she should reply, but her vocal chords don’t seem to work at the moment.

“I’m so sorry,” the Doctor repeats breathlessly as he pushes past her out of the room.

Rose doesn’t turn to watch him leave; she’s stuck in place, her feet frozen and unmoving as if they were glued to the floor. The only thing she can do is shiver, and whether she should blame the cold or something else entirely is anyone’s guess.

Rose gulps.

***

Next Part

***

[sunlitmcgee]

For the prompt list: How abt “You’re a bad liar did you know?” for beeduo?

Prompt 27: You're a bad liar, did you know? This ended up being much bigger than I first expected. It is honestly important enough to be it's own AO3 one-shot, but for now I'm going to put it here, and for now I will only say that this is completely and 100% canon to HWHBH and is part of the current timeline. TWs include mentions of abuse/self-esteem issues, descriptions of burns/minor injury, themes of guilt/regret/self-blame, as well as general mental illness and trauma type things.

 “Did you remember to pick up those chips like I asked?”

 “Er, which chips?”

 “The plain potato Lay’s. The ones in the yellow bag over by the junkfood and right next to the wavy reds. Michael’s been eating them lately and I wanted to get some more before we ran out.”

 “I…I think I might’ve gotten those…?”

 “It’s alright if you forgot. I can go out and get some tomorrow before I head into town. It’s no trouble.”

 Ranboo gave a relieved sigh over by the cluttered kitchen table. A proper mound of plastic bags covered the wooden tabletop. Each one was a dull gray-white and was utterly stuffed with all manner of grocery store pilferings. Tubbo was in front of the fridge and was busy sorting out the greens and a few bags full of fresh vegetables.

 He tucked away a couple of deep green bell peppers before he turned to look back at his husband, who was frowning down at a half-ripened pear like it’d just sullied his mothers’ names along with his father’s taste in music.

 “Ranboo?” Tubbo said softly, concerned and fretting over his beloved’s sullen demeanor. “Is something wrong?”

 Ranboo shook his head and placed the pear into a large wooden bowl. “No.” He said while he slid it across the table to bring it closer to his current bag. “It’s nothing. I’m okay.”

 Tubbo closed the fridge quickly and moved to face him all the way.

 “You’re lying.” He said sharply.

 “I’m fine, Bee.” Ranboo ducked away from Tubbo’s eyes and tried to focus on another pear. His claws were long enough to wrap around the lumpy yellow fruit several times over, and as he picked it up to drop it into the bowl with the rest of the fruit, Tubbo saw a few of his sharpened nails puncture through the ripened flesh and draw out a thin trickle of juice.

 He saw Ranboo wince when it stung his scales a little.

 His chest began to warm as he furrowed his brow and crossed his scaly blue arms, tapped his foot a few times to get the other teen’s attention, then gave a smoky huff when he finally looked back.

 “You’re a terrible liar. Did you know that?”

 Ranboo’s face was sad as his ears drooped. Tubbo sighed, this time in a trail of rose-scented reddish mist that floated in thick ribbons behind him as he walked over around the table and came to his partner’s side. Ranboo blinked when he turned to look down at him, then yelped, high and frail and startled, as he was unceremoniously hoisted off of the tiled floor and into Tubbo’s iron-grip hold.

 Tubbo stood still while Ranboo struggled in his talons.

 He held him like you would a newborn baby, strong yet safe against his chest, arms wrapped tightly around the taller teen as Ranboo worried with where to put his arms while his long legs tensed and closed in around his crinkled undershirt.

 Eventually he decided to fling one arm over Tubbo’s shoulders and gripped the one on the opposite side of his head from where his was propped up into the air. His other hung loosely off to the side and was limp as a dead fish.

 A tired sigh left the ender hybrid while Tubbo regarded him patiently.

 “Bee?” Ranboo said eventually.

 “Boo?” Tubbo replied without changing his neutral expression.

 “Why?”

 Ranboo just gestured at their current position with a limp, lazy talon. He looked back down at Tubbo in time to see the shorter boy shrug.

 “I dunno. Why aren’t you telling me what exactly is the matter so I can try and set things straight?” His smoke turned faintly gray-green as his lashes fluttered in front of his eyes. Both shone a pale azure that was faded at the edges.

 “Don’t wanna.” Ranboo’s response was childish and irritably endearing. Tubbo cursed the day he discovered he loved men thanks to this idiot’s pretty eyes and aloof yet dapper charm.

 He rolled his eyes and focused them back on his husband’s.

 “Do you not want to talk about it because it’s something bad bad, or because it’s just a bit heavy and you feel stupid about being worried over it?”

 A hint of starlight caught in Ranboo’s eyes. It was night outside the mansion and the sky was visible through a nearby arched window. Specks of silver twinkled in Ranboo’s eyes, one with a rudied shine, and the other with a deep glow that reminded him of the forests he’d wandered through when he was still a young boy.

 I’m still young. Just like treasure. Just like my mate.

 Tubbo reminded himself of that important factoid while he waited for Ranboo to respond. Ranboo did so after a moment of deep thinking.

 “...I’m trying to get motivated to tell my parents about things…”

 There was a shift in the air as soon as the words left his lips. Tubbo felt it and shifted his weight to account for his husband’s gradually shrinking posture, bowed head and tensed shoulders certainly not withstanding.

 He kept his voice quiet. Ranboo never did like when they spoke on this subject too loudly. He didn’t want Michael to hear and get his hopes up.

 “Do you want to do it quite yet?” Tubbo asked while he swayed slowly to the side. “We’ve still got to get those extra bedrooms fixed in. Do you want to make a trip over to see Foolish and talk things out with him? I can clear my schedule if that’s what you want to do.”

 He saw Ranboo consider it while his bottom lip pouted. “...no. Not yet.”

 “Not yet to the rooms or not yet to the letter?” Tubbo knew he had to check to figure out what Ranboo meant. Ranboo sometimes struggled when it came to saying things clearly. And that was alright.

 “No to the letter.” Ranboo elaborated while nodding his head. “I don’t wanna bring them here yet. Not until we’ve got the rooms and tell Mikey so he doesn’t get freaked out when a bunch of people show up wanting to meet him. He doesn’t do surprises well, remember?”

 The brief, slightly painful memory of the time Fundy dropped in to say hello came to Tubbo. It made him frown from immense sadness(as well as a brief hint of instinct-induced fury) when he recalled how frightened his son had been of the fox hybrid. It wasn’t Fundy’s fault that his teeth were so pointy, but it didn’t mean that Tubbo wasn’t going to not put his child’s well-being first and not politely ask Fundy to leave before the boy got upset any further. He felt terrible while he watched the young man go.

 I’ve really got to check up on the guy. He’s been out of it since things went wrong with Wilbur.

 A faint bit of rage swelled up when he thought of that bastard’s filthy name.

 It shimmered down and dwindled once he took a second to breathe.

 The smoke from his lips was a deep bruised plum as he sighed in front of Ranboo’s chest, the taste that of purple raspberries mixed with honey and sour, rotten limes.

 “Yeah. I remember. I can tell him about it sometime, or we can do it together if he has any questions. He probably will. Do you think we should tell tre-pardon. Do you think that we should tell Tommy before we send any letters out?”

 This time when the air shifted, it was to something lighter and vaguely warmish. Ranboo’s ears twitched as if to perk, but his eyes remained transfixed onto his talons, which were busy with fiddling with his silver ring where it sat on his right ebony claw.

 He hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm…yeah. I think so.” 

 Tubbo nodded before Ranboo spoke again.

 “I’d kinda…” Then he didn’t.

 “Kind of?” Tubbo urged gently.

 “Nothing.” Ranboo’s eyes fled as he ducked his head once again. He was just so shy, even after everything. It still made Tubbo want to wrap him up in silk and hide him away from the world. Doubly so now that he had a head full of dragon brains that screamed out and demanded that he comfort his precious mate.

 Tubbo’s mouth stretched into a slight smile as he brought a hand up to cup Ranboo by the cheek. Ranboo flinched when his weight was shifted a little. He relaxed after a second and slowly settled, then glanced at Tubbo, saw him nod in unspoken reassurance, and then leaned into the touch and allowed himself to be treated kindly.

 They both stayed like that, just for a little while.

 Tubbo waited for Ranboo to speak and finish the thought wholly on his own terms.

 “I’d…I’d just hoped, sorta, maybe, just a teeny little bit…that Tommy would be here with us. With us and married to us…by the time you guys got to meet my parents.” His smile was a sad one, but his eyes were happy as he curled in and bowed his head until his chin was against his chest. “That’s all. That’s all I wanted to say.”

 Tubbo didn’t have wings yet, but if he did, he knew they’d be drooping in the way Tommy’s did whenever he was disappointed. He felt an affectionate coo warble inside of him as his shoulders slumped to hold Ranboo a bit more tightly.

 “Oh, I know.” He breathed while looking his love in the eyes. “I know sweetheart. And I’m sorry that hasn’t happened yet.”

 There was a moment when they just shared their pain.

 “He’s just so dang perfect.”

 “He is.”

 “He’s perfect and I just wanna have him here like this so darn badly.”

 “I know, I know. I do too. I really do. More than anything.”

 “It hurts that he doesn’t realize how much we love him.”

 “We tell him everyday.”

 “But he still doesn’t believe it.”

 “No. He’s just been taught he’s not allowed to. You know how he is. He’s been…what’s the word…conditioned? That right?”

 “Yeah. Conditioned. Conditioned to think that nobody cares and that nobody loves him. That sick ⎎⎍☊☍⟒⍀ made him feel that way when he was in exile. A-and I was there! A-a-and I didn’t do anything to…to…”

 They stopped when Ranboo’s cheeks started to quietly sizzle. 

 Tubbo carried him over to an empty chair so he could fetch some ointment and a dry washcloth. Ranboo sat there slumped and whimpering while he rushed to get the supplies, and while they waited for the tears to stop while he had the ointment pressed to either cheek, they carried on and spoke just as they had been.

 “Do you think he’s still angry at us?” Ranboo asked while his eyes both twitched.

 “No.” Tubbo answered, sad and guilt-ridden. “He isn’t. Not like he used to be. He’s probably pressed all that anger down or let it go. He’s done that so much since he got back from the prison. Since around Pogtopia, really, but exile was the worst for it.”

 Tubbo leaned back against the counter. Ranboo nodded and sniffled silently.

 “He’s too tired to be upset.” He said weakly.

 “He’s too scared and has never been allowed to be.”

 “He should be. He should be upset.”

 “I know. But he isn’t. He’s happy and he’s happy to be near us. We just need to accept that he’s never going to resent us like he damn well should and not look an angel in the halo.”

 Ranboo didn’t say anything, but it was clear he wanted to. Instead he only sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

 “Maybe we can propose after my family’s left?” He offered with a shrug.

 “Don’t you want them to be here for our wedding?” Tubbo kept his tone light so it didn’t come off as too aggressive. He watched Ranboo struggle and saw that he had failed.

 “I do!” Ranboo bleated while he looked back at his husband, eyes wide and voice higher pitched than usual. “I do, I really really do. I do want them to be here. I just don’t want them being here to make Tommy feel all stressed and like he has to marry us, or else they’ll all get upset and he’ll feel horrible about it forever. You know how he is! He’s sensitive!”

 Ranboo threw one claw in the air to demonstrate his distress. The cloth that was pressed there slid down a little and started to fall. Tubbo held it up for him until he could hold onto it again, then pulled back while nodding his head and agreeing in earnest.

 “I know! I know.” 

 He sighed.  

 “I know…”

 Tubbo wrapped his arms around the trembling enderian, instincts on high blast as Ranboo mewled and clung to him dearly. It was just so much. He was so tall yet so small; his mate, his beloved, his darling Boo. His Rannie. His sweetheart.

 Protect, protect, protect, his draconic brain hissed while the flames covered his brain. Protect mate, protect babies, protect your treasure and tear the accursed world to bloody bits if it ever even dares to come in too closely. 

 The smoke from his ears was a thick and ugly plum.

 It was deep black with a sickly greenish tinge.

 It smelled like cactus fruit mixed with some sharp with a little bit of twang. A bitter aftertaste crept on his tongue from the back of his boiling hot esophagus.

 Cold thoughts, Tubbo Underscore. Think about the sea. Think about the sky. Think about Tommy’s face and how cute he is when he smiles.

 The fire rose up and refused to back down. Tubbo had to physically swallow it before it could get up any higher. His throat burned where the hot liquid bubbled up, but he managed soon enough without too much more difficulties , and was soon cooled down enough to think and to be tired from this whole conversion.

 Puffy’s going to give us an earful if she hears about this.

 They sat in silence. The fridge hummed to fill the void. They really needed to get all this shit put away before it all began to spoil.

 “Do you want to talk more about this in the morning?” Tubbo finally offered as he moved to pull back slightly.

 “Please.” Ranboo begged in a quick, desperate sigh.

 “Alright dear. We’ll sleep on it ‘til morning.” Tubbo offered his hands to help the enderian to his feet. Ranboo kept both rags handy on the sink in case he needed them again. 

 “Let’s get these all put up and then head up for sleep, alright?”

 Tubbo blinked and saw Ranboo straighten up and gingerly nod his head.

"Okay. Let's get to it, dear beloved."

[nobodycallsmerae]

Stuck on You...

All the former Titans and their kids laughed at Cyborg's reaction to the story they were currently narrating.

Dick, Kory, Mar'i, Vic, Karen, formerly known as Bumble Bee, and TJ and Beast Boy's family were currently all sprawled around the Logan household's living room, as all the friends told the kids the much-anticipated story.

'And kids,' Dick started, looking at his daughter, Mark and Maya, and TJ, Vic's son. 'That is how the "cutest" couple in the Titans universe came to be!' He chuckled.

Raven and Gar looked at each other as they leaned in for a kiss.

'Eww... PDA!' Maya and Mark whined as Mar'i smiled. 'I love, love.' She muttered under her breath.

Breaking away from the kiss, Gar asked, 'PDA? But I'm behind the closed doors of my house... with my family.'

'It means "Parental Display of Affection".' TJ chirped in.

'And it's much worse than "Public Display of Affection", believe me." Maya said.

All of them burst out laughing.

'But I have to say, I loved your story!' Mar'i said in a sing-song way. 'You really are the "cutest" and most romantic couple!'

'Hey!' Dick pretended to look offended, 'You do know that your parents are Dick and Kory Grayson, right?' He joked as the room was once again filled up with laughs.

'Well, I've gotta say, Logan.' Came a voice from above Garfield's head which made him release a girly "eep!" as Damian Wayne hanged upside down from the ceiling. 'You very much knew what you were doing.'

'WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?' Gar exclaimed, surprised from his visit.

'He came in with the Graysons', Dad,' Mark spoke up. 'Didn't you notice?'

'No!' Gar exclaimed, clutching his chest. He looked at Damian. 'I'm getting old dude, don't scare me like that!'

'I'll keep that in mind.' He replied, still hanging upside down, a smirk playing on his lips.

Though the present leader of the Titans would never admit it, he liked the former hero.

Yes, it was true that he was too immature of an adult, but he was also an amazing person and Damian always regarded him with respect, though small moments like these were common between them.

'So, Little D, word has it that you went on a date with Maya Logan here?' Dick smirked.

At this, Damian's eyes wide opened as he lost his balance and fell down from the ceiling, falling to the ground with a light "thud".

'Huh, who knew Damian Wayne could fall off like that?' Dick joked at his beloved, flustered brother

Maya, on instinct, rushed towards him and helped him stand up. After smoothening his red hoodie, and nodding a quick thanks at Maya, he finally regained his composure.

'It wasn't a date.' He glared with red cheeks at his step-brother, who was grinning. 'We just went to a library after school and as it was getting late, we just go-'

'Yeah, yeah, we know.' Gar cut him off, waving his hands in front of him. He slowly walked towards Damian and took a big breath. 'And, unless and until I get no complaints... I allow you to date my daughter.'

Maya blushed at her father's announcement, and a tinge of red was also visible on the Robin's cheeks.

'Re-really?' He asked, a bit surprised.

'Yeah.' Garfield put a hand on the boy's shoulder. 'I know you, Damian. You're an amazing kid, and I believe Maya will be safe with you... Just don't harm her.' He said the last line with gritted teeth as he squeezed Damian's shoulder with so much pressure, that the Boy Wonder's arm began to visibly shake.

'Ye- Yes Sir!' Damian gave an uncharacteristic squeak as Gar released his grip.

'Your daughter is safe with me.' He insisted, and then gave a small smile as he lifted his hand for a handshake, 'Thank you, Gar.'

Gar shook his head with a smile as he pulled the unsuspecting boy into a bear hug, as all the people around the room "aww-ed".

***

After all the entertaining events of the night, everyone was occupied with something or the other after a rather delicious feast prepared by Raven, with the help of her generous husband, of course.

As Raven was busy putting away some leftover food in the refrigerator, she took a moment to look around her.

She saw Kory and Karen, who were helping her do the dished earlier, were still preoccupied with gossips.

Dick was telling something to Damian and Maya, but she could see that they were paying less to no attention at the rambling adult, as they looked busy staring into each other's eyes. She let herself smile at that.

On the couch, she saw Vic playing video games with Gar. She smirked, Vic was still good at beating Garfield's butt at video games.

In the distance, she saw TJ talking to Mar'i, who looked a bit confused, while Mark was standing near them with a magazine, glancing at his friends with tinted cheeks. TJ is probably being the wingman for Mark. She smiled.

Raven remembered when they were younger, probably 18, or 19, Cyborg, and on some good days, even Nightwing would act as wingmen for Beast Boy, but she always dismissed them, thinking of it as some kind of prank. She laughed, thinking of the memories.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist as she was lost in her thoughts.

'Hey, beautiful.' Gar whispered from her back. 'Something on your mind?'

'Nothing particularly..' She turned around to face him. 'Look at everyone...' She breathed.

Gar smiled and looked around the room.

'Look at them,' He looked at Damian and Maya, both in their own little bubble. 'Our little girl's all grown up...' He wiped a fake tear from his eyes.

Raven smiled, 'And what about Mark?'

'Ehh, he was ought to leave the house someday...' Gar jokingly waved her off as they both ended up laughing.

'But, seriously,' He said, looking at TJ taking to Mar'i while Mark was trying to be "cool". 'I have to teach my son some skills. He's not getting any girl like that.'

Raven chuckled.

'It's so amazing...' She breathed after a pause, 'All of us are still together... the Titans I mean. And, it's not like it's forced or anything... All of us are really... truly happy to be in each other's lives.'

'Yeah, well,' Gar smiled. 'We are a family, Rae. Vic, Kory, Dick, Karen... we're all part of such an amazing.. dysfunctional family.' He chuckled.

'I never thought I would have a family of mine, Gar...' Raven said, clutching his chest.

'But here you are, Rae!' He smiled, tightening his grip around her small frame. 'You're blessed with two amazing children... and a dashing and handsome husband if I do say so myself.' He wriggled his eyebrows which made her chuckle. 'And, you're an awesome wife and a loving mother... and the fact that you are also a selfless hero.. it all just adds up!'

Raven smiled.

Their relationship wasn't always the best one... It was mostly on-and-off.

But, in the end, both of them knew if they were to end up with someone, it would always be each other.

No matter how heated their arguments got... at the end of the day, all that mattered was they loved each other, and no one and nothing could ever change that.

She looked at him, his face glowing in front of her. He was always an open book, and though he did try to bury some emotions, Raven always knew better.

But now, in front of her, in his bright green eyes, there were no regrets, no sadness, no doubts or "what if" thoughts.

All that was there was happiness, adoration, passion, love, and hope for an even brighter future together.

Unable to control herself from all the wonderful emotions flowing off of him, she leaned forward and crashed her lips with his. Gar was taken a bit off guard but kissed her back just as passionately.

'What was that for?' He asked, panting a bit from the hot kiss.

'Nothing... just.' Raven held him close, burying her face into his arms. 'I love you, Gar.'

He smiled and kissed her head, holding her close.

'I love you too, Rae...'

Reviews and critisim are fully welcomed!

Find the full story on Wattpad and Fanfiction.net!

[uncovereliminate]

Splicers

Since I needed to do some research for a project I will be starting soon,  I decided to put everything I found interesting about Splicers in one compact post for me to always find it back.

General Splicers

Thuggish Splicer

Leadhead Splicer

Spider Splicer

Nitro Splicer

Houdini Splicer 

Because of the way this game works,  a lot of the ‘standard’ splicers listed above use either the Splicer-models I am getting into further into this post or the standard model showing on their wiki.

Baby Jane

Came to Rapture to make it big in show business, but ended up having to resort to other means to get by.  Can be heard constantly questioning the reality of the situation happening around her and regretting her loss of beauty.

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK  DIALOGUE

"Get away from my face!" [Screams] "Not on my face!"

"Look at yourself! And you would do it too!"

"Why did you cut me?! Why?!"

"It's my part! Mine!"

"Stop ogling me!"

"You're making me lose my place! STOP IT!"

"Get your FAT. HANDS. AWAY FROM ME!"

"Just say something, goddammit!"

"Honey? Is that you…?"

"I'm sorry… We can do it together!"

"DARLING! I'M HOME EARLY!"

"I don't- I don't wanna- I don't wanna hear this… I- [Whimpering] I don't want to hear this…"

"Pretend you're not interested. They like that."

"He's gone! They always leave…"

"He left, he left, he left, left, left! He left! He left!"

"Came here to be a star! Came here to be a star- Not too late, not too late!"

"Mr. Ryan's gonna notice me, and I'm gonna be a star! It's not too late, not too late!"

"I used to be beautiful. What happened to me?!"

[Laughs] "And even that was a bad performance."

[Crying] "They'll be okay, right?! I mean, it was just- it was just an accident!"

"Tell me you love me! Go on, say it!"

"Someone shou- should do this for me, someone should be doing this for me!"

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK II DIALOGUE

"Ow—! And I— used to love bees!"

"I had real talent!"

"I had innocence- I was innocent!"

"I had innocence! You took my innocence!"

"Parasite! Paparazzi!"

"Stop — STARING!"

"You're a plain little girl! Plain- too plain."

"This wasn't part of the deal!"

"Only geniuses get saved, lunkhead!"

"Your memories? Yeah, we don't need 'em."

"Why would you bring a kid?!"

"Send your daughter home, freak!"

"Just me and the roaches."

"Rejection." [Cries]

"I don't understand." [Cries]

"To have seen what I have seen… see what I see…"

"I worked hard to look this good, and they still appreciate it… some of them…"

"Hello my baby, hello my honey, la da di da da da [Hums] nothing like a good old picture show…"

"Siren Alley [Sigh] well, the rent is cheap and there's work."

"Can we try that scene over? I forgot my line."

The Breadwinner

A wanna-be big-shot who thinks money and fame are everything.  He's convinced himself that Rapture’s downfall was just a small problem in his ultimate goal.

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK  DIALOGUE

"Finally. [coughs] Happy."

"I was right, I tell ya. I was right, god damn it."

"Come on! Just- just let me explain, will ya?"

[Disgusted noise] "I'm too busy for this shit."

"She should not have come here."

"Ah, a man can start a business down here, yeah. Now now, it's- it's not too late. I'll get to it."

"Yeah. Yeah, Ryan's gonna stake me, huh? Yeah! No, he- he'll stake us all. Just give it some time. Yeah, just a little time."

"It's just a bad quarter. Naw, that's all. Yeah, market'll come back, huh? Yeah! Everything'll be fine. Yeah, it'll all be fine… Augh."

"You think that I'm dumb? Sure, sure, why not? You keep on thinkin' that."

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK II DIALOGUE 

"You can’t take this from me!"

"Think you can take what’s mine?!"

"I ain’t gettin’ reborn with you, no way."

He also has very gross misogynistic lines that are uh...  interesting for his character,  but I don’t want to be near them with a ten-foot pole,  so you can check out the wiki-page for those.

"I ain’t lost my touch, just look at me! I’m a king down here, a king! Yeah!"

"You think I’m that dumb?! Sure, sure, why not. You keep thinking that!"

"The business world’s ruthless, kid. Get used to it."

Dr. Grossman

A roaming medical professional who’s use of ADAM twisted his germophobia into something horrific.  He can be seen trying to destroy/murder anything he deems unclean/unhealthy.

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK  DIALOGUE

"You're infecting this whole place!"

"You keep away from my patients!"

"You're crawling with disease!"

"Well, he won't get any better that way."

"I'm- I'm covered in his filth! DISGUSTING!"

"I've got patients to see, no time for distractions!"

"The subject… appears to have been ripped apart from the inside… probably a failed teleport."

"I- I try to help, but- sometimes I- I make mistakes… I try to help! But sometimes I- I make mistakes."

"I hate the babies, the most. They come out covered in death."

"I like the prestige, but I don't like the germs. The germs, they-they get under your nails, they crawl around at night."

"It's unsanitary in here, filthy! Come, let me take care of you."

"Haven't slept in weeks."

"Typical behavior for someone with your condition!"

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK II DIALOGUE

"My services, for free? [laughs] Get out!"

"I no longer require your services… nurse."

"Don't dare get your disease on me!"

"I killed [coughs] lost you! Once already."

"I guess it was just the wind… or was it a dream?"

"I gave up on helping people long ago, but I still ease their suffering.

"Might as well call me an undertaker these days… But, it suits me just fine."

"I come away from that damn clinic smelling like death. Everywhere! It smells like death!"

"Wait, my scrubs! All a-tatter?! Wha-what's happened here?"

"The thing about genes, they're just germs, and we're all crawling with them, all of us."

"Eternity will be so clean. So clean! So very, very clean!"

"The days are getting shorter! No no, that's not right!"

Ducky

A bitter lonely old man with a lot of prejudice who works security around Rapture.  Becomes a  devout part of ‘The Family’ during Bioshock II.

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK  DIALOGUE

"He-hey? Hello? I'm here." [Crying]

"Poor sucker… my soul… my soul."

"They'll never find out about this. It's all gone away."

"Stop this… this isn't what ya think it is."

"Those stupid kids… they don't even know."

"Somebody gotta keep order around this place. If not, it'll go to the parasites."

"All these parasites want a piece of this place. And we gotta guard the borders, we gotta keep 'em out."

"They want what we got. And we gotta defend what's ours!"

"The parasites, the papists, the race mixers- I got my eye on all of them!"

"I'm just lonely! I— I'm lonely!"

"Down on the ground! DOWN ON THE GROUND!"

"You can run, but we'll find you! We run this place from tips to toes!"

"Oh… gimme my hat, Emma. Sweet mother of mercy!"

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK II DIALOGUE 

"Fuck it! God dammit! I hate bees!"

"Not the blood of the Son... my blood!"

"You wear the mark of the beast!"

"¡Qué estúpido!"

"¡Por favor! Help me!"

"¡Aye, Madonna mia! I'm bleeding!"

The rest is all religious rambling,  and tbh  ??  I have no time for it.   Ducky really annoys me.

Lady Smith

One of the upper-class matrons of Rapture and pretty much a WASP stereotype.  (I really don’t like her.)

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK  DIALOGUE

"Darling, is that you?"

"Hello? Oh, get the door, Sydney!"

"Nothing there, but we should bring in the hounds from the stables, just the same."

"Audrey, Michelle, Peter, Thomas, William, Joseph… no wait, n-not Peter."

"My dear elite, no, distinguished friends. I've finally found the answer we've all been looking for!"

"Too introverted for anyone to notice."

"Charles! I think the negro cook's been stealing. It's always like that with the coloreds. Take, take, take."

"They always arrive with out-stretched hands. They're a tuneful people, I'll grant you, but so lazy."

"It's not like those people in Apollo Square. Animals, every one of them!"

"They talk talk talk, but in the end they've got nothing to offer society. Just more mouths to feed."

"Look at him, just lying there! Another parasite!"

"Run away! You people will never amount to anything!"

"You know what they do to vagrants in Rapture? They hang them!"

"You think you can just take what you want? This isn't the jungle!"

"There's proper folk, here. You don't fit in."

"It's always the same with you parasites, looking for a hand out."

"Yes, Dr. Steinman. Uh, no Dr. Steinman… sorry, Dr. Steinman."

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK II DIALOGUE

"Audrey, Michelle, Peter, Thomas, William, Joseph… Oh, no! No no no! Wait, not Peter!"

"I'm writing down your name, you filth!"

"The times may be unkind, but did you have to take our home? I raised my children there! Bastards!"

"I'm surrounded by them, and yet they can tell… I'm their better! They know it… I know it!"

"Three children. Yes, three little angels, all gone now. I wonder if they miss their mommy?"

"I'll not associate with your kind."

"This is an outrage! AN OUTRAGE!"

"Lester, where is my doll…?"

Toasty

I hope you guys will forgive me and also understand that I will honor the memory of Henry R. Lumley as he actually was and not as the horrible person the Bioshock devs painted him as.

I am still really disgusted by the fact that they would use his face as the model for Toasty  (a literal murderer/rapist!)  and never even asked his surviving family members if they could do such.  

So I will skip this one,  hope you don’t mind.

Pigskin

A young American football player pressured to Splice to become a better athlete.  Unlike most Splicers,  they seem to have partial awareness of what is happening to them.

(Honestly  ??  they’re my personal favorites.)

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK  DIALOGUE

"Uh, baby…? I'm- I'm… I'm all calmed down, now… Okay? So-… Just open?! Would ja- shit!"

"Hey, come on- come on… Joey's gone, alright? You- you could come out, now."

"Not today, Dad, alright? I mean god damn!"

"Eh, Mom…? Mom…? I- it's er-"

"It's alright, Dad. It's alright, Dad."

"It's cold… Stay- stay focused, stay whatever, stay in the game. Stay."

[Chuckle] "Oh, shit. Hey, Dad, check this out!"

"I… I know you… No, I- I know you. I- I- I know I know you. You're- you're- you're that guy with the writing."

"It- it's different, this time, ya know? Really, it is. It- it certainly is."

"I'm good enough…! Why don't you believe it?"

"I'm tryin', Mr. Ryan. Please don't judge me! Please!"

"Look at me, Mr. Ryan. I- I've got nothin' left to give."

"Mom…? Dad…? Can you come get me?"

"It hurts… It- it- it hurts just to breathe."

"He's an intruder… and- and they make us kill intruders."

"I just wanna go to sleep… Just wanna go to sleep, I just wanna go to sleep."

"They make me hate everything I see! They make me hate everything I see! They make me hate everything I see! They make me hate everything I see!"

"I do what I'm told! I just do what I'm told! I always just do what I'm told!"

"Where are you?! They'll kill me if I don't find you!"

"Better come out! It- it'll go easier for both of us!"

"Please, come on out! It'll be so much worse if you hide!"

"Do you have any idea what they'll do if I don't find you?!"

"Yeah, am I entertaining you? Great! Is this fun to watch?!"

"Mom. Mom? Look what I've done. Mom?"

"I did it, okay? He's dead! Now just leave me alone!"

"Why did you make me do it? Why?"

"There! He's dead! Now just shut up!"

"It's over, okay? It's over! Now just get out of my head!"

"It hurts! It hurts! Jesus, it hurts!"

Plastered Splicer

Splicers that fell victim to being turned into Cohen’s art-work.  There are no specifics on how this exactly happened or how they function and are even still alive,  but they are and they’re scary as feck.

Rosebud

A female worker frantically looking for her lost child  (who has most likely been turned into a Little Sister).  She is known as ‘ruthless and deceptive’,  being one of the few Splicer-types that can actually set traps.

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK  DIALOGUE

"Behind every door, an opportunity is so dangerous. "

"A floor, one two three four six seven… twelve thirteen thirty-four twenty-seven."

"She's still breathing… Oh, of course she is, she's just a child…"

"Shh… Oh, no… Of course you're not dying, my little one. You're just a baby… Babies don't die."

"No… they won't take you… you're just a- a little child."

"But she's my little girl… She has my eyes, can't you see?"

"Ah, don't hurt her! No, please! Take me, instead!"

"Oh, please… please… you don't want my girl. She's no use to you… can't you take… the neighbor's girl, instead?"

"Take me! Take my body! Take anything! Just don't hurt- take my little one!"

"Wake up, sleepy. [Chuckle] They're gone… Please? Please…? Please?!"

"I have time monster. I have all the time in the ocean."

"Kislány! Are you there, little child?"

"Sweetness? Mama's here to hold you."

"Sweetheart…? Where are you…? Come out, please… Mama just wants to hold you."

"Why would you take my little one?!"

Waders

The model for the secretly religious zealot from Bioshock  (pretty much the same function as Ducky from Bioshock II)  he believes he is avenging angel serving an angry God by punishing the sinful denizens of Rapture.

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK  DIALOGUE

"You'll open up if you know what's good for you!"

"Open up! ¡Ay! Qué mierda."

"I traded You, oh Lord, for Mammon, and what did it get me, huh?!"

"I'm sorry, Father! I'll do what You say, I-I'll do what You say!"

"Even miles under water, He still sees everything, sees everything, sees everything, sees everything, sees everything!"

[Singing] "Jesus loves me, this I know; for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong; they are weak, but He is strong!"

And other religious stuff.

Brute

A result of Splicing with a concoction of  Sports Boost and Armored Shell Gene Tonics.  Brutes are very aggressively masculine and homophobic,  which is revealed to be internalized homophobia once you Hypnotize him and he flirts with Delta.  (I could not make this shit up.)

FAVORITE BIOSHOCK II DIALOGUE

"A million little pricks- fuck, fuck! Leave me be!"

"Fucking sodomites everywhere."

"I know what you're thinkin'."

"Not my bloody type, luv."

"Oh, you're pissin' yourself now, eh?"

"You're mine now, lil' girl."

"I'm top man down here!"

"We're just mates, you titface!"

"Clip your wings, ya fairy!"

[Chuckles] "Oh, he wants a tussle."

"She's gonna watch me do ya, son!"

"Who's the daddy NOW, son!?"

"Suit don't make you a man."

"I feel… nothin'…"

"Peace, quiet, solitude. Proper solitude."

"These fuck's gotta bring more in, or I'll hafta…" [Chuckles] "I'll hafta start teaching 'em. Ooh…"

"We can start over down here, once we drown out all the buggers and the queens. It'll be real men only."

"Some thoughts are just wrong. Nasty thoughts. Gotta stomp them thoughts right out!"

"Doctor Lamb says to embrace the man in the mirror. How bloody queer is that?"

"Sander Cohen. There was a man! Sharp suit, good mustache, took no guff!"

"Lass wanted me to try wrestlin' before the city started pissin' itself, but I don't go in for all that touchin' and sweatin'. I'm a boxin' man."

(Just to point out,  this is him after being hypnotized)

"I love you, ya lil' shite. I do."

"Jus' tell me who to kill, guv."

"Feel so—what you call it—comfortable witcha."

"Nice to have a proper mate at last."

"Partners, yeah? I like the sound of that."

"I like a man what keeps his mystery."

"Mates, right? Mates. Yeah."

"Do anything for ya. I mean that."

"Right, guv, let's get into some nasty."

"I'd look a poof in that suit, but you carry it."

"Shite! Gah! You fucked me 'ead!"

"Lyin' lil' mince! I trusted ya!"

The Mother

A very overprotective mom who sees herself as very nurturing and self-sacrificing,  but is fairly possessive and restrictive in actuality. 

FAVORITE BURIAL AT SEA DIALOGUE

"Nothing could happened to my boy, I made him wear his best scarf today… he's bundled up tight!"

"I would never leave him with the sitter, they're all perverts."

"Wake up son. You worry me when you sleep so deeply."

"Gonorrhea, that's what you'll get. And there's no cure but the madhouse."

"Franklin, get Mother's cream out of the armoire. I need you to do your magic."

"Franklin, why don't you come over and rub mother's feet? They're barking."

"Friends? Of course he's got friends, but I always come first."

"There's no relationship like mother and son, it's deeply intimate."

"Don't walk away when I'm talking to you!"

"I'd like to see you run away, you wouldn't last the night!"

"No one'll ever love you as much as me!"

"I only worry so much because I love you!"

"I raised you better than this!"

"What's mothering but a thankless job?"

The Performer

A singer who hasn’t had work in a while,  but never let it dampen his spirit.

FAVORITE BURIAL AT SEA DIALOGUE 

"Yeah, folks always stare when I make the scene… You get used to it!"

"I told Sander Cohen, I'm always ready to cut a record or put on a show! Said he'd call."

"Yeah… Those old numbers sure got some high notes. But I got something new in the works!"

"I been on sabbatical for… goin' on 15 years now… I got some work, but I want to get back to real acting!"

"I warned you to stop following me!"

"Hello? You from the "Stars and Screen" magazine?"

"Don't leave me! Not again!"

The Social Darwinist

A doctor of psychiatry who advocates for the survival of the fittest and evolutionary superiority no matter the cost.  (Hate this sob.)

FAVORITE BURIAL AT SEA DIALOGUE

"That's right… Cry like a baby. Your mother didn't love you… Why should she? What did you ever do to earn it? Nothing."

"You were the worst kind of parasite! Only taking, giving nothing in return! That you were a child means nothing!"

"Do you know what they call men who shy from adversity in war-time? Deserters… They shoot them… And rightly so!"

"Very painful, I assure you… But you will be hardier for it! More highly evolved! Superhuman!"

"No it's not the strongest that survive, but the fittest! Those most capable of change! A good start is thinking for yourself…"

"Did you come to Rapture because it seemed fashionable?! Or did you intend to make something of yourself? If you don't keep ahead of the rest you'll be resigned to follow."

"If you're going to disappear before my diagnosis, why did you come in the first place?!"

The Small Business Owner

Okay,  I take back everything I was about to say about  The Salesman,  this is Sinclair 2.0!  The description literally says  ‘This businessman is willing to do whatever it takes to thrive, even if it's technically illegal.’  JFC,  they could have at least tried.

FAVORITE BURIAL AT SEA DIALOGUE

"So I greased a few palms here an' there, time-to-time… What of it? I've been told this town is friendly to free enterprise!"

"'Fat Cat'? If that's what they call a fella who's prosperous?! Determined?! Uncompromising?! Then, FINE! The shoe fits! You got me."

"Criminal Dealings?! [short laugh] Fallacy! Misdirection! From those afraid to let the market take its natural course."

"You ain't no big shot round here!"

"Push me? I push right back!"

"You'll never amount to nothing!"

[short laugh] "I'm gonna bring you to heel!"

The Beauty Queen / King

A woman who recites her prepared speech for the Rapture Pageant.

FAVORITE BURIAL AT SEA DIALOGUE

"I'm just honored to be in the competition and… gee, I hope you like me… Because I'd like nothing more than to be Miss Rapture 1958…"

"Mother always says it's important to be yourself, so here I am, 100% the genuine article."

"Well, he's gotta be handsome AND smart and self-assured like A​ndrew Ryan… [short laugh] And good with his hands like Dr. Steinman!"

"No need to hide. I'm 'a regular person.' Just like you!"

"Butterflies in your stomach? C'mere. I have just the thing!"

(male variant)

"We're all adults… Nothing we can't work around with a little elbow grease."

"Women don't care for character anymore. It's all money and looks."

"Hello? You from "Star and Screen" magazine?"

Ryan Security Agent

Men and women handpicked by Sullivan to maintain order and keep the city safe from potential threats.  There’s not much else known about this specific character model.

FAVORITE BURIAL AT SEA DIALOGUE

"Atlas' followers have been living on borrowed time if you ask me. Who knows, maybe Ryan got tired of footing the bill for this place."

"Told Ryan he should've given each of these clowns a bullet, not a prison."

"Guy made a city at the bottom of the ocean, and they thought it was a wise idea crossing him."

"We get in, disappear the girl and Atlas' crew, back before happy hour."

"I'm smart enough to know Ryan's smarter than all of us."

"You judge a man by his enemies? Then Ryan doesn't amount to much."

"Fontaine's followers put up a good fight at the fisheries. I'd expected more from this lot."

"What did you think was gonna happen? You cross Ryan and get off scot-free?"

Misc.

Didn’t really feel like getting into the Crawlers,  Buttons,  Heady,  The Hypochondriac,  The Ex-Boyfriend,  The Schoolteacher,  Frosty Splicers,  Houdini,  Survivors and Jockey Splicers because they either feel uninteresting to me or are super area restricted.