#time i weirdly really enjoyed this. as impossible as it may seem for such a direct prequel‚ this almost works better if you try and forget

[monimccoythings]

Bad Pick up Lines

I'm facing writer's block in this Bowser x reader so for now we are getting this T.T but I wanted to pull something after leaving it with a cliffhanger. I really love my Bowser x reader series hopefully I'll get to continue it some day.

`Previous Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4

tags: @loveforfandomsstuff @harpy-space (Please tell me if I'm forgetting someone, unfortunately I'm very dumb and forgetful)

Your head hurt, just like a nasty New Years Eve hangover. What happened?? The last things you remembered was a blast, a lot of fire and smoke and then...

Oh no.

You immediately opened your eyes. You were inside a darker and grittier castle, certainly not the Disney Princess vibe Peach had going on. What the fuck.

This couldn't be happening. You were dreaming. You had inhaled too much smoke and were in a coma at the ER. There was no way this was Bowser's castle.

He seemed to like the Middle Ages dark castle style, whelp at least the bed was cofortable. Still, you didn't want to stay longer than you needed to. If everything that had been told about your ex cutie patootie was true, which you were sure it was. What awaited you inside this walls was something worse than death.

Fuck, you had treated him like a pet, you had babie talked him, dressed him up, fed him apple slices and combed his luxurious red mane!! You would do all of that again given the chance tbh. It was worth it.

Escaping seemed impossible, the room you were in was too high; and the doors, though more obvious, were too heavy for you to move, whoever put you in there (Bowser) wanted to make sure you didn't get out.

You felt sick, even if you haven't had anything to eat since that morning. Was this how it ended?? With you dying because once you called the turtle equivalent of Genghis Khan 'chimken nugget'.

You heard thundering steps approaching your room. Big man was coming. There was no place for you to hide. Better face death with dignity.

The door opened and the King of Koopas himself came in. Woah. He was even bigger than you remembered, las time it was too smokey for you to see clearly, but boy did you see know his might and glory. I you put it him in your lap now the weight of his head alone could easily break your legs.

Your eyes quickly diverted towards his face, and noted that he looked anything but murderous. He had this weirdly dilated puppy eyes like the Puss in Boots in Shrek 2, his hair had been sliced back, and he was wearing a purple bowtie. Given his actual size, it wasn't as cute as he thought he would look. Still, you swallowed down the urge to laugh at the randomness of it all.

"Did you sleep well?" Wow, his voice was even more thunderous than last time, and now that it wasn't high pitched, it actually sounded kinda nice and fitting, but you couldn't let your guard down.

"Yeah?" You weren't sure where he was going with this. Bowser raised one eyebrow in confusion "Are you asking me?" "No?" God this was going to be a bloody mess.

Bowser, for a behemoth of his size and mass, looked kinda sheepish. It would be endearing if he didn't tower over you and could't crush you with a single hand.

"You-you know, it was quite helpful my bed was there..." He looked at something scribbled in his hand, squinting his eyes. "... for when you hell-fell! from Heaven..."

You snorted a bit, you couldn't help it, that was the worst pick up line you had ever heard. The tension dissipated from your body, only to return with full force when you realised that he may take offense in you laughing. You quickly clasped your hands over your mouth a blush colouring your cheeks.

Apparently he took it as you blushing with delight, because he shyly scratched the back of his head. It was cuteness oversized. For a second you saw your little buddy again, enjoying your pets, gradually warming up to you, and quietly listening when you rambled about everything that crossed your mind.

"Ha... that was a good one..." You managed to say. "I actually have like, so many more." He seemed happy that you had liked it. Oh you actually wanted to hear them all.

They did not disappoint, each one of them was as good (or bad) as the first one he had told. So cheesy. You felt more eased in his presence the more pick up lines he told, at certain point you felt like back at Peach's castle, but the sizes had been reversed. If you made a huge effort to look past the numerous atrocities he certainly had comitted, you could see that he was just lonely.

"Hey, wanna hear my pick up line?" For a second, he looked shocked. Nobody had ever told him a pick up line before. You cleared your throat, hoping it was as fun as it was to you. "So... Are you into the bad types? Because I am bad at everything."

His eyes shone with mirth, glad your audience loved your terrible sense of humour. You smiled at him and he smiled back. Peach had warned you due to previous experiences that once Bowser got a hold of someone he very rarely let them escape their grasp.

It seemed that Bowser had now moved his fixation towards you. Maybe you were not ready to jump into marriage immediately, and maybe you needed to return home to your job and duties. However, you wouldn't mind exchanging phone numbers... That could be a good start.

[holywizardheart]

❄Astrology observations part 16❄

The pictures aren't mine ❌

Don't copyright my work ⚠️

Enjoy your reading 🌨

💍Moon/Mars negative aspects can't control themselves when they are mad or upset.

💍Virgo rising&moon people have several stomach issues I swear.

💍Jupiter in the 3rd house has a good relationship with classmates. Also, it can mean that you're really good at memorising information.

But if your Jupiter is retrograde then it can give you hardships with this sphere. You can have problems with learning or studying subjects.

💍Pluto in the 4th house very chaotic family. I think it can give jealousy from family members. Also, frequent quarrels and conflicts happen every time. Besides mom could often monitor you or regularly call when you're out of the house. Furthermore, it can mean emotional abuse from your mom.

💍Saturn in the 12th house may suffer from insomnia or terrible nightmares. Also sometimes they don't pay due attention to sleeping schedules. They often spend the night watching series or sitting on the phone. I want to add that sometimes they talk when they're sleeping.

💍Neptune in the 6th it's very troublesome to monitor your daily routine. May lead an unhealthy lifestyle. Making plans or habits seem problematic or impossible.

💍Sun in the 11th house wants to be popular on social media. They like posting their selfies and photos on Instagram or other apps.

💍Juno in Gemini wants a mental connection with their partners. Conversation and talking play a big role in relationships or friendships.

💍Leo in the 3rd house could be popular in school life.

💍Capricorn in the 4th house might have no emotional attachment with mom. They could have a cold relationship with their family.

💍Air signs in the 8th house don't crave sex as others do. Very neutral attitude to this area.

💍In my opinion that 8th house synastry is too overrated.

💍Mars/Uranus harsh aspects sudden unexpected anger or aggression. You can react unusually or behave weirdly during an argument.

[redux-iterum]

Since we're on the topic of -heart cats, would you be able to share any info about the other Clan's cats who qualify for the suffix? It seems that RiverClan has the most with Pansyheart and Dawnheart which I thought was very interesting, though Wind and Shadow have Roeheart and Flyheart respectively. I'm so interested in the naming system of the rewrite! Keep up the amazing work! ♡

I haven't taken the time to mull over most of the allegiances' background cats, just because I have so many main ones to focus on, so I can't give a particularly satisfying answer here. Apologies for that! I'll do my best with some quick thoughts.

-heart cats are named for their firm morals and strong beliefs that are near impossible to shake them from. This can display itself in any manner it pleases - whether you're endlessly loving like Fireheart, or extremely dedicated to the code, or fiercely protect stories and folklore in the name of preserving history. So on and so forth. That means these cats could really have any personality we want for them.

I gave Pansyheart a pretty empathetic character in the one scene we've seen her in, so I feel like she's more sympathetic to outsiders of all kinds than the rest of her Clan; she's probably gotten in trouble before for tossing a fish to a skinny loner across their border. Dawnheart, I don't really know, but for fun, let's say she has a weirdly specific set of opinions on hunting in the water and insists gifts be given to the ishmet at every visit to the river, enough that her Clanmates tease her for it.

Roeheart and Flyheart? Not too sure on them either. A WindClan -heart would be just as flat and monotone as their Clanmates, but they may announce their decisions more than the rest and go against orders to do what they think is right. ShadowClan -hearts tend to be a little less sweet and polite than their Clanmates, possibly standing up to town cats a lot more and having controversial opinions. They're still seen as a positive, because ShadowClan greatly admires those who dedicate themselves to something they believe in and enjoy. Maybe Flyheart is the same!

[cloudslostlibrary]

Congrats on 100 Cloud!!!

I would love snowing, Sapnap and “I’ve never really been in love, not seriously” (:

A new book has been found !

Book Title: Movie Night

Characters: CC!Sapnap, Reader, CC!Georgenotfound

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Reader gets to the movie theater later than usual because of the snow outside and ends up catching Sapnap's attention when they give him a gift.

Tw: Mention of food

Author's Note: Exciting to finally be able to write requests for this event!!

Beta Reader: @allywritesforfun (thank you!!)

Event Masterlist

Regular Masterlist

“Finally.” You sighed and watched the cloud from your breath be swept away in the chilling wind. “I’m here.”

Your boots sunk into the snow as you slowly trekked through the AMC’s parking lot. You stepped through the doorway of the movie theater, your frosty skin was immediately met with a sea of warmth. Reaching into your jacket pocket, you pulled out your phone and checked the time. ‘9:25, shit,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Five minutes won’t be enough time.’ You walked up to the counter in the middle of the lobby as you slid your phone back into your pocket.

The employee working at the counter seemed to be the only other person in the theater.

‘I guess going to the movie’s once the movie has already started does have its advantages.’

“Good evening,” the woman said, interrupting your train of thought. “How may I help you?”

“Good evening,” you responded. “I’d like a ticket to ‘The Black Phone’ please.” 

The employee grabbed the ticket from under the counter and shuffled a few steps right to the register. She waved you over and said, “That’ll be $13.69, anything else I can get you?”

“No, ma’am. Thank you.” you answered as you took $15 out of your wallet, careful not to drop anything, and handed it to the employee.

“Enjoy your movie!” The employee kindly smiled at you as she handed you your change.

“Thank you! Have a good day!” You smiled back before you walked a few steps away and took your phone out again.

’9:27.’ the lock screen read.

‘Only three minutes, I don’t think I’m going to make the commercials,’ you thought before deciding it would be alright to miss them— after all, how could you watch the movie without getting a duck?! With that in mind, you dashed over to the arcade section of the lobby, straight to your favorite machine.

The rubber duck claw machine was your favorite game because you were always guaranteed to win. Everyone was actually— it’s impossible to lose the game. All you have to do is put in one dollar and, just like a claw machine, you maneuver the device to win your prize. The game had no timer, and won’t stop until you’ve won! All the prizes in the machine were different rubber animals; although, they were mostly rubber ducks in costumes. Since discovering the machine, you’ve made it a habit to get a rubber animal to accompany you to watch the movies.

You squatted down and fed the machine a dollar. As you stood back up the door chimed. A gust of cold wind hit your skin and sent a shiver through your spine. You glanced in that direction and saw two men walk through the door. One was slightly taller with dark brown hair. His face was flushed from the cold and he was blowing into his hands, presumably to warm himself. The other man’s hair was a lighter brown with a hardly noticeable red tint to it. As if he could sense your gaze on him, the shorter one turned his head and met your eyes. He looked you up and down before his friend stole his attention at the counter.

You remembered what you were meant to be doing and refocused on the machine in front of you.

‘Wouldn’t want to miss too much of the movie, better hurry this up,’ you thought as you moved the machine’s arm.

You decided you wanted the rubber duck that looked like a green T. rex and let the claw drop to pick it up.

“Wooo!!” You cheered as the machine picked up the weirdly positioned dinosaur on your first try.

“Clang!” The dinosaur was dropped into the plastic area of the machine. “Clang!”

‘That’s weird… Sounded like it fell twice..?’ you silently questioned.

You opened the compartment and reached your hand in. Sure enough you felt two rubber ducks. Pulling them out, you noticed that the machine had given you two of the same dinosaur ducks. You stared at the second duck in your hand in confusion.

‘It must have been picked up with my dinosaur and I just didn’t notice,’ you deduce. ‘But what should I do with it? I can’t watch the movie with TWO rubber ducks, that’s not right.’

You looked around the lobby and saw the two men, now at the counter paying for their popcorn and tickets. An idea popped into your head and you walked over to them.

“Hi, I’m sorry to interrupt you,” you started. “Long story short, that claw machine over there just gave me two ducks instead of one, so I came over here to give one to you. Paying the luck forwards you know? Anyways, have a good movie!” 

You handed the shorter man the duck and started walking towards your movie theatre.

“Wait!” He lightly grabbed your arm to stop you. Succeeding in his attempt, you turned back around and tilted your head at him, confused.

“Hmm?” you hummed.

“You didn’t give me the chance to say thank you,” he chuckled softly. “My name is Sapnap, this is my friend George.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.”

‘He smells good,’ you thought to yourself. ‘What is that smell though? I definitely recognize it.’

“Nice to meet you too, and thanks… for the dinosaur.” Sapnap smiled, looking down at it then back to you.

“No problem! But I’ve got to go, the movie is going to start any second now if it hasn’t already!” you said as you quickly left to go to theater five.

~~

“Are you going to have that stupid smile on your face for the rest of the day?” George asked Sapnap.

“What are you talking about?” Sapnap tried to push down the smile on his face, only for it to peak back through.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” George scoffed. “You like them.”

“Quit it, I don’t like them,” Sapnap lied and started walking toward their theater, already late for the movie.

“You’ve talked to them once and now you’re in love!” George shook his head at his friend.

Sapnap rolled his eyes at George. “You’re so stupid. I’ve never been in love… Not seriously— at least”

The two walked on in a comfortable silence until they reached the door of their theater. They walked in and got a few isles down before Sapnap threw out his arm and stopped both of them in their tracks.

“What?” George questioned.

“Is that them over there?” Sapnap pointed at a person sitting in the front row.

“You’re not going to be doing this the whole movie are you?” George crossed his arms over his chest.

“I think it’s them!” Sapnap whispered, walking in their direction.

“Come watch a movie in the theater with me you said, it’ll be fun you said.” George mocked his friend, following a few steps behind him.

Taglist:

@graymoon2-archive @allywritesforfun @wrenqueenisboss @graymoonspam @bi-narystars @0yuioy0

[valleyfthdolls]

come to think of it, it may as well be impossible for me to find suitable slasher / gore horror lmao

why? it's because of the screaming. my SPD is very audio-focused, so it can induce pain and headaches, possibly even migranes. the uh. occasional auditory hallucinations i get of women screaming also don't help.

however, if you have any recs for stuff like found footage or EAS scenarios ( especially SCP ones ), i have found a fondness for them while experimenting with what types of horror i enjoy ^-^

( sorry if i word things weirdly oiyfdxchigfc )

You get occasional auditory hallucinations of women screaming too wtf-

Here are some things you could watch. I'm really, really sorry in advance if any of these have triggering content for your sensory issues. I tried my best to make sure they were all accessible, hopefully I did alright.

For found footage horror films, immediately The Blair Witch Project comes to mind, but I gave that a 4/10 lmao. Good to watch for the experience of having watched it though. Not much screaming, but I do distinctly remember once scene of one of the characters screaming "PLEASE HELP US" and the main character (who is a woman) screaming for another character near the end. No straight screaming as I recall, but scream-yelling.

I've heard great things about Lake Mungo, which apparently has no jumpscares, and is a found footage-style psychological horror mockumentary that I really need to watch.

Ringu- the original Japanese version of The Ring- doesn't really have the screams or as many jumpscares as the American adaptation, but it's pretty tense regardless. If you like horses, I would prefer this version over the American one. Also if you have sensory processing disorder. It doesn't really rely on a lot of the hella discomforting sound design of the American adaptation, which is def scarier, but god, Sadako is like 10x more nightmare fuel than Samara, even if I ultimately like the execution of Samara's character a lot more. Just watching the original Ringu, Sadako is still a good character, I just think her story got convoluted later on. The TV scene in the og too is horrific. I love it

Candyman is widely considered pretty good, but I've heard people say its themes of racism are tone deaf at times. I haven't seen it yet, but I'm familiar with it. Lacks jumpscares, should be good on sensory problems, bc it's my understanding there's not much meant to elicit abject fear, but you may have to be careful.

I love The Walten Files, but given your sensory issues, I wouldn't recommend it unless you truly believed you could handle a lot of bad sensory input. If that ever happens, check it out. If not, avoid it.

However, a similar but much lighter seeming ARG called Welcome Home may be up your alley, currently it lacks any jumpscares or similar shocking noises. It's like Poppy Playtime but actually good.

Serial Experiments Lain is a good, ominous slow-burn psychological horror anime that lacks any potentially harmful sounds. Another is more gory and dark, but doesn't have a lot of loud noises or screaming either.

Local 58 is a well known analog horror that kind of checks the EAS scenario box, and lacks any jumpscares, but is very eerie and dark. Gemini Home Entertainment is much more so, but also has jumpscares as I've heard, so while I'm not familiar with that one I suggest you exercise caution. Local 58 I have seen and it's pretty good and should be safe for you and your SPD.

UrbanSpook has no audio jumpscares, but a lot of visual ones. Pretty good body horror stuff too.

I also tentatively recommend Petscop. Tentatively because it has absolutely zero SPD triggers, but its themes heavily revolve around child abuse, childhood trauma, esp parental abuse, and some readings even involve transphobia and ableism. Darker interpretations can also gather themes of CSA. That one is all up to how you read it (aside from the very explicit child abuse themes) so be careful for mental health reasons.

(I also very tentatively recommend it because I don't like recommending Petscop to people. It's a very personal comfort for me and I don't like giving it out to just anyone as a recommendation.)

[elliekima]

This Love is Alive (Back from the Dead)

Pairing: Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves x gender-neutral reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death

Word Count: 2.7k words

Notes: Reader is AFAB gender neutral with they/them pronouns and was adopted by Reginald Hargreeves along with the original seven umbrellas. They have abilities similar to heartrenders in the Grishaverse. Their powers include control over one’s heart, lungs, and stomach, and other major organ systems (although the brain can be rather tricky). 

I was blown away by the response to my first tua post, I really don't post my writing much but I just love sparrow!ben so much and this word vomit was the result. I hope you guys enjoy it too <333

---

You took in the view of the half-destroyed farmhouse for the last time before closing your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for the next jump. If it was anything like the last one, you shuddered, your stomach may never recover. Of course, at least this time you were using an actual device made for time travel—even if it was weirdly shaped like a briefcase, seriously couldn’t they use a watch or something? It was so much less bulky and easier to carry around, not to mention harder to lose—instead of relying on your brother's dubious time travel abilities. 

Klaus’ sudden interruption to grab a hat was dramatic, in the way he usually was, but even you could admit it helped lighten the mood. ‘No matter what happens,’ you thought to yourself, ‘at least you had your family.’ You ignored the pain that came with the thought of Ben, the one sibling you would be leaving behind this time. Even if he died years ago, which left you grieving and heartbroken, you knew he was still around. Unlike the rest of your siblings, you knew Klaus wouldn’t lie about seeing Ben. You even asked him once, about a month after Ben’s death, if you could speak to him or send him a message somehow. 

Klaus, his eyes serious and clear for the first time since Ben’s death, responded, “He misses you too y/n, he’s standing right next to you actually. Sometimes he wanders over to check on you and make sure you’re doing okay.” He paused after that, head cocked and you just knew he was listening to Ben speak, which was almost enough to break you until you were suddenly swept into Klaus’ arms. It was unexpected but nice, even if his next words made you want to break down and start throwing things, “He wants you to move on y/n. I know it sounds impossible and crazy but you can’t let yourself obsess over his death and wither into nothing. You were meant for so much more than dad’s shitty plans for us. Keep breaking hearts y/n, never stop.” You laughed at that, hysterical and relieved because Ben was really there with you. You held on to Klaus as laughter turned into sobs because it was only then that it really sunk in, he was gone and there was nothing you could do about it. 

You shook your head to clear the thoughts of him, you processed his first death a while back and there was plenty of time to process his second ghostly death once you were back home in your little apartment with plenty of tequila. Finally, Five finished checking the briefcase’s settings and made eye contact with you. He gave you a weak smile, and you couldn’t help but return it. The smile was forced—you’re pretty sure it looked more like a grimace, really—but it seemed to reassure him. He reached for the briefcase and you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before the (hopefully) final jump. 

The whooshing sound of time travel—and wasn’t that weird? You thought you and your siblings being traumatized child superheroes was as crazy as it got before adding the thought of alternate timelines and apocalypses into the mix—filled the air around you. It was as unpleasant as ever, although significantly less bumpy thanks to the briefcase. You mentally cheered your stomach on for surviving the trip this time around, and hoped it would keep up the good work. Less than a minute later you felt yourself landing on a familiar carpet, thankfully without the need to puke everywhere.

You stood there, eyes pressed shut, letting out the breath you were holding. You tried to force them open, but fear overtook you. For a moment, you wondered if you should even bother opening your eyes at all. You spent the last year or so running around trying not to die, first from the apocalypse, then from the bigoted idiots of the 1960s, and then from another apocalypse. Standing here, in what you hoped was your old house, felt too good to be true. 

You could hear your siblings groaning and trying to orient themselves after the jump, but still couldn’t open your eyes yet and risk the chance that something went wrong. So your coping mechanism was avoidance, maybe if you never opened your eyes, you would never see what fucked up timeline you and your siblings landed in this time. You weren’t safe yet, not when you needed to fight again but holy shit you were so fucking tired and— 

“What… what day is it?” Luther asked. 

At his words, your eyes snapped open before your brain could convince you it was a bad idea and you took in your surroundings. It looked like your old house, but as you scanned the room, your instincts started to itch, warning you that something was wrong. It didn’t seem too bad though, so you weren’t overly panicked yet but you refused to let your guard down. Suddenly, your eyes locked onto a painting. You weren’t sure, since you never really paid attention to the art your father collected, but you could’ve sworn that painting used to be a castle instead of a mountain. Across you, Five scrambled for the newspaper in front of him and his next words shook you out of your stupor.

“It’s April 2, 2019,” he said, a smug grin already starting to stretch across his face, “the day after the apocalypse.”

The rest of your siblings started celebrating but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your head, the voice telling you that there was something wrong. But Five was already heading to the living room, Allison was crying and talking about Claire, and Vanya’s looked dead on her feet. They all looked so happy, and that was enough to stop you from saying something about it. ‘Let them have this moment,’ you thought. After all, if they needed to run again, at least they had this one moment of absolute relief to keep them going.

You let yourself get caught up in their energy, swinging an arm around Diego and following the rest of your siblings into the living room. However, the good mood that was beginning to bloom died at the sight of the painting that hung over the mantlepiece. Diego noticed it too, asking the rest of your siblings if they could see it too. God, you wish you hadn’t. You stared at his face, one you thought you’d never see again. You couldn’t help but compare it to the last time you saw him, desperately searching the painting for any differences from his last appearance in the theatre in 2019 when Vanya first ended the world. 

In the background, you noticed your father rising from his seat in some shadowed corner and your siblings arguing with him. Fuck the old man, all you could do was stare at the man you love so much. Granted, the two of you never really got around to admitting your feelings for each other before he died and other than that one instance with Klaus, he refused to be a messenger for any conversations between the two of you. The hope you’ve been pushing back started to grow again until you realized that there must be a reason Ben’s painting was there. After all, in your timeline, the painting was of Five, who disappeared one day and they all thought was dead. If Ben’s painting was in his place, who knows what could have happened to him. You began to spiral until a hauntingly familiar voice interrupted your impending breakdown.

“Dad, who the hell—” Ben starts, before pausing as he took in the scene in the living room. He stared at you, looking gutted and vulnerable, “…Y/n?”

You turned to stare at him the moment you heard his voice, as if on autopilot. His voice was a little deeper, but you guess that’s what happens when it’s been 14 years since you last spoke to him. You breathed out his name in shock and he started to smile, brittle and hopeful, before your brain restarted. You ran towards him and he ran to you, the two of you colliding in the middle of the living room. Your siblings paused their argument with your dad to stare at the new developments but fuck them, Ben was here and he was alive and that’s all that matters to you. He wrapped his arms around you and started spinning you around, your hair flying around you while you squeezed him back just as hard. You laughed freely for the first time since this whole mess started as you stared at him, categorizing all the changes. His hair was no longer gelled back like when you were kids, instead, he wore it spiky on top and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through it and mess it up. He lost the softness on his face from back when you were teenagers, growing into his features and you felt yourself fall a little more in love with him. He set you down and you buried your face in his chest—that was another change, when did he get so built?—and it was all you ever dreamed about since that fateful mission when you were 17. 

Distantly, you heard your family erupt into screaming behind you but all you could focus on was the man in your arms. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of him, the detergent mom uses, and—is that some new fancy cologne? Regardless, it was the most comfort you’ve felt in years and you’d rather kickstart another apocalypse than let go of him. 

It seemed like Ben felt the same, because his arms only tightened around you and he tucked his face onto the top of your head. Suddenly, you realized you’ve been too busy saving the world to take a proper shower (So what, at least you made it out alive! The 60s had shit bath products anyway,) and tried to pull away. You heard a disgruntled sigh above you before he whispers, “Stop squirming y/n, you may smell like shit but it's the first time I’ve seen you in 13 years. Besides, I’ve seen you covered in blood and other gross shit after missions, you’ve had worse moments than this.”

Your mind was still fuzzy from seeing Ben, but something about his words seemed to alert your instincts. You replayed the moment in your head, it has been 13 years since he died but wouldn’t he have seen you while he was hanging around Klaus? But if he was standing here, alive, then he wouldn’t have died and hung around with Klaus all the time. You would’ve seen each other, grown up together the way you always planned to. The dots were starting to connect, and you hated the picture it painted. You stiffened and tried to pull away again, intent to ask him what he meant, when Diego’s voice cut through the bubble you found yourselves in.

“Woah woah wait, who the hell are you weirdos?” he exclaimed as he stared at the people filing in behind Ben. They were studying your siblings behind you but seemed to glance at the pair of you standing off to the side. The way they stared at you, all wide-eyed wonder and fragile hope seemed familiar. It was the same look you gave Ben, not the mention the look your siblings gave him too. Instantly, the dots fully connected in your mind and your heart filled with dread. You let your arms fall away from him as you stared at him, trying to keep your emotions from showing on your face but failing miserably. “You’re not my Ben, are you?” you asked, voice shaking.

He released you slowly, almost like he wanted to hold on to you and never let go, but the look on your face was enough to give him pause. Tension was building between the two families, making him tense up further as everyone seemed to stare at the two of you. He looked away from the rest of the room and stared at you, brown eyes reflecting your pain back at you as he said, “No, I don’t think I am. You aren’t my y/n either.” 

It was a statement, one that almost broke you, but your father’s booming voice behind you gave you enough strength to pull yourself together. ‘We can break down later, once not!Ben isn’t in front of you and you aren’t surrounded by your siblings and strangers,’ you told yourself, facing your father. 

He was ranting about your siblings being crazy assholes in 1963, which was fair because you were assholes to him, but in your defense, he was a shitty father and he looked and acted exactly the same way, how the hell were you supposed to be civil? You couldn’t believe he hated you all enough to just, not adopt you as children anymore. He even changed your name! Where the fuck did ‘Sparrow’ come from anyway? Distantly, you wondered how that affects the timeline but you filed that away for another day. First, you needed to regroup, preferably after a nice long bath.

You steeled yourself to join your siblings’ argument against your father and his new children but a hand brushing yours made you pause. You turned back to face him, you blinking your tears away as you studied him. This wasn’t the boy you grew up with, but you could read him just as easily as you read your Ben. His face was set in practiced neutrality, but you could see his eyes pleading with you to listen. He tugged you back towards him and whispered in your ear, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I watched you die once in my arms and there’s no fucking way I’m letting you walk out of my life again. If your siblings are anything like mine, this won’t end well. I won’t let anything happen to you, never again y/n. I’d sooner unleash the eldritch horrors on the world than lose you again. So please—” he took a breath, eyes meeting yours “meet me at our cafe when this is done?”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. The rest of the room seemed to fade around you, all you could see and hear and feel was him, both the Ben you know but somehow not. You knew this was a test, and you were desperate to get it right. He may not have been the Ben you grew up with, but he still was Ben, wasn’t he? Sure, he grew up with another set of siblings—’another version of you,’ your brain supplied—but in the end, he was still the same person. Despite the thousand different scenarios running through your mind, hope started to build in your chest: all-consuming, traitorous, and pretty damn inconvenient. You gave him a tiny smile and whispered back, hoping to all the deities out there that you were right, “On the corner of 9th and 22nd? I’ll be there after kicking your ass babe.”

His growing smile turned into a familiar smirk and he opened his mouth, ready to retort when you quickly tiptoed and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you Squid Boy,” you added teasingly before hurrying back to your family, grinning at his blush. “Bring it on heartbreaker,” he replied with a wink.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you moved to stand next to Allison, ignoring the looks your siblings shot you. Besides, Luther was looking pretty damn smitten with the pretty girl standing near Ben, you’d get them to bully him instead. You grinned at Ben from where you stood, readying your hands together as he unleashed his tentacles, both groups of siblings facing off against each other. 

[maximoffcarter]

The world against us.

Pairings: Peggy Carter x reader

TW: homophobia, offensive words.

Summary: Peggy Carter x fem!reader. Maybe some angst about the time typical homophobia and having to hide being a couple?

A/n: I enjoy writing Peggy even if sometimes I think I don't quiet write her in the best way. But I hope you all like this! If you have more requests, you can send them! There are more coming! Also, it was hard to write the homophobia and did not like it but I tried my best.

Year: 1951. The life after war seemed to go as normal as it was before it, but not for everyone. For Peggy a lot had changed, not just the way she saw life now, but her job, the way they treated her, with the years things seemed to get better. Mr. Jarvis teased her about working too hard and forgetting about her love life, after all, some sparks had appeared between her and Sousa, but nothing more than just a simple dating thing happened and she felt bad about it, but she couldn’t force something that just wasn’t there. She knew there was no rush, after her failed engagement, she really thought she wouldn’t find a lover, she’d only spend her living years in missions.

But that entirely changed when she met a certain someone; unexpected perfect someone, as she described it. She literally had no one to talk about it, she could only think about it and keep it to herself, something that bothered her because her other option had been to push it away, vanish it from her mind, but it was impossible. She was good at hiding this sort of thing, so how could she not get over this teenage feeling? It was absurd. It was silly. It wasn’t her. She also recognized the year she lived in; people were barely being respectful to women, and it was still hard, so having feelings for…no. Not time to think about it. She couldn’t-

“Agent Carter?”

Peggy snapped from her thoughts as she looked up to find that someone she was just thinking about. “Y-Yes?”

“I was just going to say that Mr. Jarvis called and asked if you were going to join them for dinner?”

“Oh. Yes. I will call him, go back to your work. Do not worry.” Peggy offered a shy smile.

“Great then.” They offered a smile and left the office.

Peggy groaned as she saw her leaving. Y/n Y/l/n. How was it possible? A woman. She was feeling…weirdly good for a woman. How? Why? When did this happen? She had been a little annoyed at first hearing how everyone talked about her, not because she was not okay with another woman working with them, but more like…they were talking about her beauty and made disgusting comments about her. But they were right about her beauty, she was beautiful, and she was so nice to everyone. Maybe she had fallen under the spell too, and now she was having such a hard time getting over it. It was stupid.

____________________

What started like something innocent, it turned into something dangerous. Peggy was always one to let out simple and teasing comments, to everyone, but she saved specific teasing comments for a certain someone. No one noticed, no one said a thing, but she knew y/n started knowing the meaning when she had come backs. She started off easy, one work replies, sometimes two words, a smile, a stare, something simple. Then the confidence appeared, and Peggy knew there was no going back. She’d lie if she said she didn’t enjoy them, it was a little game they had, until that made them become closer to each other.

It started off as simple compliments, then it went on with small and sweet touches, nothing that people could notice or talk about, they were careful with their words and anything they did together. Even in missions they were professional enough to know their place and when to act the way they normally did. But then late nights started happening, and even if some were accompanied with Howard, they still didn’t stop, not like Howard could know or would notice; too oblivious.

“And he said that?” Y/n laughed as she walked with Peggy.

“Exactly that. I don’t know what in heavens I was expecting, it was obvious he’d react that way.” Peggy looked back at y/n as they both laughed. She then noticed they were already in front of y/n’s house, making her sigh. “Here we are.”

Y/n looked at Peggy with some sort of doubt in her eyes, she didn’t know if it was right to talk or just leave. “It’s only 9:40, maybe…maybe you would like to have a cup of tea?”

Peggy smiled as she nodded. “Wouldn’t be bad.”

Both women entered the house, y/n closing the door behind her, looking back at Peggy the moment she locked it. They both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, not sure what they were supposed to say or do. The atmosphere was suddenly tense but with a small hint of safety, no one would see them here, it was only the two of them, nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Y/n opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by Peggy. “I really do not fancy some tea right now.”

Y/n stopped for a moment before she grinned. “Neither do I.”

Peggy smiled as she walked to y/n, placing both her hands on y/n cheeks. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop.”

Y/n placed her hands on Peggy’s side carefully as she smiled. “I’d be a fool if I said I didn’t want this.”

Peggy then smiled as she closed the gap between them, both women wrapped in a sweet and tender kiss, one that they had never felt before, one that they always wanted to feel. Y/n pulled Peggy impossibly closer to her body, running her hands up her back just as Peggy tangled her fingers in y/n’s hair.

“Why if it’s wrong it feels so right?” Y/n whispered against Peggy’s lips as they pulled away for air.

Peggy shook her head. “I have no idea.” She then looked into y/n’s eyes. “It shouldn’t be wrong.”

“No it shouldn’t.” Y/n sighed. “I’ve never done this, or felt like this before.”

“There’s always a first time for everything.” Peggy grinned as she pulled y/n for another kiss.

Y/n smiled against her lips as she kissed her back, turning them so she could push Peggy against the door. Peggy was right, there’s always a first time for everything…

____________________

It had happened 4 weeks ago. Not that y/n had been counting the days. She had just been…she didn’t know what to say honestly; yes, she had counted the days because since then, they had been busy and they hadn’t seen each other as much as they used to. Yes, they did have their sudden encounters but only that.

“Agent y/l/n, would you be so kind and follow me to my office?” Peggy asked as she raised her brow.

Y/n looked up and nodded as she stood up, noticing that no one had really put attention to them. “Sure.”

They both walked into the office and as soon as Peggy closed the door, she pulled y/n to her and kissed her lips softly. Y/n smiled against her lips and wrapped her arms around her neck, pulling her impossibly closer.

“Missed me?” Y/n asked against her lips.

“Every second.” Peggy smiled as she kissed her forehead. “You have been busy, darling.”

“I know.” Y/n bit her lip. “But…maybe you could come to my house tonight? I can make us dinner.” She offered a sweet smile.

Peggy smiled. “I’d like that.”

Y/n smiled and pulled Peggy back for another kiss, but just as it started to get heated, there was a sudden knock on the door and as soon as they pulled away, Mr. Jarvis walked into the office.

“Ms. Carter- oh, hello, agent y/l/n. I didn’t know you were here.” He smiled.

“Yes. Work.” Y/n chuckled as she tried to cover the redness of her face.

“I think you applied your lipstick wrong, ma’am. You have a little bit on the corner of your lips.”

Y/n’s heart stopped for a moment as she cleaned it. “Yes, I-I just ate. Maybe it was that.” She chuckled nervously. “I’ll go. I’ll bring the reports later, agent. Excuse me.” She said rapidly as she left the office.

“Huh…I may be intruding, but I’ve never seen agent y/l/n wearing such a bright color.” Jarvis closed the door behind him.

“Are you here to comment about everyone’s appearance or you came to tell me something important?” Peggy raised her brow.

“Fair enough.”

Peggy sat down just like Jarvis and listened to him talk, though part of her was relieved that they had pulled away before he could see them. That was a close call that she hoped they never went through it again.

____________________

She had noticed Peggy staring at her every now and then, just like y/n had been doing. It was impossible not to do it, it was painful to be away from her when she had already tasted the waters. She couldn’t imagine herself without Peggy, as wrong as it was. And she also noticed one of the agents trying to get Peggy’s attention, which pissed her off so much because he didn’t have a little of decency, knowing perfectly that Peggy was their boss.

She had tried to stay as calm as possible, not wanting to make a scene. She went back to work as soon as she felt Peggy turning to look at her, feeling bad for staring too much.

“Did you hear what happened on Tuesday?” One of the agents whispered.

Y/n wasn’t too far away from them, so she could definitely hear everything. “Something always happens, I don’t even read the newspaper anymore.”

“They caught two women in a room, together.” The agent chuckled. “Poor husbands, I guess they weren’t enough for them or the two women were complete sluts.”

“Well, don’t we all want to see that?” The agent laughed. “Either way, it’s disgusting to know your girl is with someone else, more if it’s with another woman.”

“That’s what I’m saying. They gonna start now like those f*ggots out there. They should definitely have a punishment. I heard something about conversion therapy, they should all go through that.”

Y/n felt her heart beating faster than ever as she heard the conversation, suddenly standing up from her desk. “Don’t you guys have work to do instead of gossip?”

One of the agents turned to look at her. “That’s why you’re here, aren’t you?” He smirked as he sat back in his desk.

Y/n breathed heavily as she left her desk and went straight to the bathroom. She felt tears in her eyes as she looked around, making sure no one was around. As soon as she stopped looking, she fell to the floor and hugged her legs as she cried. How could it be so wrong? Why having feelings for another girl was so wrong? Why was it so important? She didn’t understand really, she didn’t get it. Why couldn’t it be a normal thing just like dating a guy? They could screw every woman they wanted, and people would put them in a pedestal. But if it was a woman, they’d call her more names than they could every imagine.

So why dating someone from your same sex was so wrong? Did it affect them? We’re they causing them pain or something? It was none of their business. She only wanted to live in a world where she wouldn’t have to hide. She heard the bathroom door opening and her heart stopped for a moment, looking up and finding Peggy staring st her with a concern look.

“Darling? What happened?” Peggy locked the door and knelt down in front of her.

Y/n sobbed as she shook her head. “Why is it wrong, Pegs? Why can’t I tell the world that I like someone?”

“What do you mean?”

“The guys…they…they talked about two women who were found together. And they were talking badly about them, they said such horrible words, I couldn’t…” y/n ran her hands through her hair as she shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”

Peggy placed both hands in y/n’s cheeks to make her look up. “My love…you have to stop thinking about this. It was just-“

“It can happen to anyone, Peggy.” She snapped suddenly as she swallowed. “It can happen to us.”

Peggy stopped for a moment as she stared down at her. “Are you saying that-“

“Peg, I don’t want to…I just…” y/n sniffed as she looked back down. “What if they find out? What if…what if they start talking? We have become closer and they could notice.”

“But they don’t. They won’t. Darling, we have been perfectly careful. No one but us knows.”

“I’m scared, Peggy.”

Peggy felt tears in her eyes as she let her hands fall to her lap. “Do you want us to…” she sniffed. “You want us to go back as before?”

Y/n looked up and saw the pain in Peggy’s eyes, something she never wanted to see. Her heart ached at the thought of ending whatever was happening with Peggy, it hadn’t even been long since they had started, and she was about to end it. Not because she wanted to, but they had to.

“Do you?” Y/n whispered.

Peggy offered a small smile. “I want you to be comfortable.”

Y/n nodded as she looked back down, not even being able to look at her anymore. “I think we should.”

Peggy nodded softly as she stood up. “I perfectly understand.”

Y/n stood up and grabbed Peggy’s hands. “Peggy…it’s not that I don’t want this. I’ve never wanted anything else more than I want this.” She licked her lips. “But it’s too dangerous. You’re the director here, I don’t want them talking badly about you.”

“I know.” Peggy nodded.

Y/n’s lips trembled as she felt more tears in her eyes. She placed one of her hands on Peggy’s cheek and leaned in for a kiss. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered against her lips.

“I’m sorry too.” Peggy sighed as she kissed her lips again. Closing her eyes as y/n pulled away from her and walked out of the bathroom.

Peggy looked at herself in the mirror and sobbed slightly. She was never one to cry, she never let herself cry like his, but she couldn’t help it, this is the last thing she wanted to happen.

____________________

3 months. 3 months since y/n had decided to take a mission in New York City. 3 months of being away from Peggy. Yes, they sometimes had to talk because of the mission, but mostly to inform and that was it. 1 or 2 minutes call, nothing more. They were both hurt by what had happened, even in the newspaper you could see how they talked about people like that, it was painful, and Peggy understood why y/n had taken that decision.

And then one day, Stark called Peggy. It had been weird at first, knowing how he normally joked about everything, but he sounded so serious; something about y/n getting hurt, something about HYDRA finding their locations and hurting y/n, they didn’t know much about it, and that didn’t help Peggy at all.

It was probably 1 am, Peggy hadn’t really checked the time in a while, not since she gotten home. She normally didn’t drink at this hour, she didn’t normally drink at all, or not as much as she wanted to, but this was a bad occasion, so she needed this.

She felt herself dizzy as she sat down on the couch, the whole house was dark, she didn’t need any light for her head to hurt even more. She had been crying for hours, she probably fell asleep for 15 min and then woke up because of a nightmare. She left her glass on the small table in front of her and laid back on the couch. As she was about to close her eyes, she heard a knock on the door.

Peggy furrowed her brows and stood up, trying her best not to fall. As soon as she opened the door, her heart stopped for a slight moment, her eyes widening. This was a joke, now her mind was playing tricks with her and it was not fair at all, it was so unfair, why was this happening.

“I’m losing my mind now.” Peggy touched her head.

“Maybe so. Or you’re just…drunk, maybe?” She chuckled.

Peggy looked back up at her and her face softened. “Is it really you?”

“I hope I am. Broken rib, broken wrist, almost broken ankle, bruises…but other than that, I guess I am me.” Y/n chuckled softly as she looked back at Peggy. “I’m here.”

“It really is you.” Peggy smiled as she wrapped her arms around y/n carefully, burying her face on the crock of her neck. “You are here.”

“I am, Pegs. I’m back.” Y/n didn’t care about the pain, she had missed her british girl.

“Come on in.” Peggy stepped aside for her to walk into the house, closing the door afterwards. “I was worried. W-We, we were worried.” She chuckled.

“Yeah. Stark said something about it.” Y/n chuckled as she put her things down. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“You are here. Nothing else matters."

Y/n nodded. She looked at Peggy and smiled. “I missed you.”

“Likewise.” Peggy grinned.

Y/n smiled. “I’m sorry. About everything. I should’ve never done that.”

“You had your reasons. And they were fair. I couldn’t force you into anything.”

“But you weren’t, Peg.” Y/n walked closer to Peggy. “I wanted this. I wanted you and me. More than anything in the world. I was a coward.”

“I saw why you were so afraid, I couldn’t blame you. Secretly, I was too. It’s terrifying what they do to those people, and how much they suffer. I would never let that happen to you.”

“I know. And I wouldn’t either. I wouldn’t stand it.” Y/n then grinned. “Though, I know you wouldn’t let anyone even touch you.”

“You know me so well.” Peggy laughed as she looked at her. “We can make it work.”

Y/n smiled. “I know we can.” She took Peggy’s hands and brought them to her lips. “I don’t care if we have to hide it. All I want is to be with you.”

“I’d love that, my love.” Peggy placed her hands on y/n’s cheeks and pulled her closer to kiss her, feeling some tears in her eyes as y/n pulled her even closer.

[kriffingunlucky]

Hi, I'd like to request a female reader with Commander Wolffe. Somthing fluffy with a mechanic that works for the Wolfpack or whatever.

Ps. Love your writing ❤

Thank you so much, dearest anon! :D I try my best !!

Hopefully this is fine and suits your request well enough !! <3

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

You insisted that this armful of tools, spare parts, gizmos and gadgets wouldn’t be too heavy to carry alone, and you were truthful about that part! But you left off the part where you can’t see where you’re going, and any time you try and crane your neck to look where any obstacles may be. Your whole pile wobbles in your arms weirdly. Threatening to fall.

The point is, this can only end in disaster.

Taking big strides, you try and reach the hanger as quickly as possible, hoping at least before breakfast is over. But apparently lady luck isn’t on your side, and you hear the sudden, loud, many footsteps of the Wolfpack coming out of the mess. All chatting with each other in different volumes and tones.

“Karking hell.” You mumble as you brave it. Just walking forwards. All you really can do when you can’t see anything past what you’re holding.

So it’s not like it came as a surprise when a clone side swiped you, on accident, and caught a piece of the metal and made the entire pile tumble to the floor with a painfully loud CRASH.

You scrunched your face up, turning away from the chaos on instinct, peeking an eye open once it was settled down. The comedic roll of a metal disk was the only sound in the corridor.

Then the clone just stared at the mess he'd made you make, guilt written on his face. He was a shiny. No unique hairdo, no tattoos.

Oh, well, you can't be too mad. He looks sorry enough. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going. Walking with a group of the pack members is quite distracting. You'll admit.

"I-I'm so sorry, ma'am. I didn't see you there-" He began to stutter.

"You're okay, bud." You wave him off and squat down, beginning to pile these things back into a somewhat neat stack. "You didn't mean to. No hard feelings."

But when you looked back up, the shiny looked rather terrified. Other clones walking a little faster than normal past the incident. Turning their heads the other way. It confused you.

"Hey, dude, I'm not hurt or anything. So it's all goo-"

"Go back to your barracks, and watch where you're going this time. Shiny. I'll assist her in cleaning this up."

Ah-ha.

"Yes, sir." The shiny clicks his feet together, and snaps his hand up to salute, then turns tail and quickly walks back to his barracks. Except he turns around and offers you another apologetic look, and wave.

Catching his look, you give him a large smile, which seems to ease his conscious. Because he disappears after that. So you turn around, eyebrows draw together with a small smile residing on your face still. "Wolffe, really, it's not a big deal. He didn't mean it."

The Commander just sighs, bending down and begins to pick items up, tucking them in his own arms. Eyes focused on his task.

You decide to match his silence, and pick up the remaining do-dads, the load split between the two of you. Allowing perfect vision for both sides. Thankfully.

Your footsteps match in pace, so you take that chance to clack your hip against his side. Smiling his way. "You're pretty good at carrying things, you know that, eh?"

Wolffe huffs out a scoff, more of a laugh actually, and rolls his eyes at you. Knowing that this is your "don't-be-in-a-bad-mood-I'm-here" tactic. He hates it.

Kind of.

You enter the hangar, and you show him where to lay down the pieces he'd collected. "Wow! You're really good at laying things down too!"

"I'll lay you down." He growls with no venom attached.

"Oh yeah?" You retort back, lifting your fists up and throwing fake punches around his form. "I doubt you could, wise guy. I'm too fast. Eh? Eh?" Landing a couple soft ones to his chest and shoulders. Going in for the slow-mo right hook when he finally broke, your fist squishing his cheek as he begins speaking.

"Okay, cut it out. I know. I don't need to be," he breaks out the air quotations, "grumpy."

You feign offense at his sarcastic tone and move to lean against his chest, looking up at him with bright (e/c) eyes. "Oh, but I know that's impossible for you, Commander. You can't do the impossible." Folding your hands underneath your chin, you give him that signature mischievous look.

The Commander dips his head down to come nose to nose with you, grinning now, and while it was one of his challenging grins it held soft intent behind his eyes.

"You're going to make me go grey."

"Pft, you're already grey." You laugh back, reaching up and scratching your hand through his hair playfully. But the way he closed his eyes and just enjoyed the touch made you savor it a tad more. You dare to cup the side of his face with your other hand.

But because of the lack of a negative response, you continue the affection. Smiling up at him gently. All of the love in the universe in your eyes. Directed at him and him only.

You stand on your tip toes to lay a kiss on the bridge of the mans nose. And in response, Wolffe wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up. Giving you a large kiss on the forehead. Your waist pressed against his chest, face angled down to look at him with a smile. And he dared to smile back.

"I see you are in a much better mood." Boost's voice cuts in, then he very suddenly gets elbowed aggressively by Sinker who stands beside him. Helmet leaned on his hip. Face pulled into a "don't tease or else we'll die" expression.

The Sergeant and his accomplice stand there sharing very intense eye contact, while Wolffe carefully sets you down, looking at them with one eyebrow raised. Eyes somewhat narrowed.

"My bad, dude. I didn't know that'd make him angry. I was just pointing out what I saw!"

"And I thought we talked about "pointing out what you see", Boost? If he was in a bad mood before. We could easily put him in another."

You shake your head, tugging on the collar of Wolffe's armor to make him reach your level again. Surprised, he turns to face you. And you kiss his lips very gently, and quickly, then give him a good wave as you walk away.

"I'll see you guys later! Bye, Wolffe! Bye, Sinker! Boost!"

He touches the corner of his mouth, where you'd kissed him, carefully. Eyes set on your form as you walk away. A gentle look to his brown eye, it glimmered with a swirl of emotion.

"Bye, (N/n)!!!" Boost shouts, and gets elbowed by Sinker again. "Ouch! What was that for? She said bye to us too, y'know."

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Comte’s One More Wedding Event (full release)that should have just came out in Japanese Version. Could you translate it or summarize it, please? Thank you for your time.

I can't believe you want to give me this kind of power, but if you insist 😂💛

That being said, because my translation skills are rough at best, I'll be summarizing and selecting specific parts to discuss if I feel a need to quote directly.

If you don't want spoilers for Comte ES, run!

Y'all. Y'ALL. REEEEEEEEE I LOVE HIM. NOBODY LOOK AT ME I'VE BEEN CRYING ON AND OFF FOR DAYS

ANYWAY

So this particular event begins with MC bringing Comte a letter as he thanks her. One glance at the return address tells him that it's a pureblood gathering invitation, and upon opening it he's right. He shrugs it off and says he'll reply to it later, setting it aside.

MC, perceptive as ever, asks if he's declining the invitation. Comte explains the nature of the party and how only purebloods are allowed to end. Furthermore, the gathering takes place on their first wedding anniversary--and he would much prefer to spend the day with her.

Comte: “MC, any gorgeous evening party–no matter how beautiful–means nothing to me without my wife at my side. The place I belong is with you.”

MC: “Er…”

His gold eyes are steady and unwavering as he looks at me, and my heart skips a beat.

Comte: “Anywho I have no intention of attending this party, as it also overlaps with the date of our anniversary. Our first wedding anniversary is an important day, and I want to spend it with my beloved wife.”

Comte smiles winningly, all while staring straight at me.

MC, however, finds herself conflicted. Given how little she knows about purebloods, she wishes she could attend the party to better understand him and the community he's a part of. She admits this, to Comte's great surprise, but feels bad about it because she doesn't mean to ask something impossible of him. (One of the requirements of the party is that you have to be a pureblood vampire to be invited. ON WEDNESDAYS WE WEAR PINK) Comte clarifies that--because she's his wife--she's welcome to attend alongside him. He offers to take her with him if that's what she wants.

MC: “Are you really sure it’s okay for me to go, though?”

Comte: “Certainly. But I would never force you if you were uncomfortable, of course.”

MC: “No, I don’t hate the idea!”

Comte: “But I’d understand if being surrounded by purebloods would be rather nerve-wracking for you…And so many of them have a superiority complex a mile wide; they’re a prideful bunch. While it may not be all of us, there are enough that it might be stifling for you to be around them.”

Comte: “In light of all that, are you certain you still wish to go?”

[I know he’s just doing his best to prepare me for what I might face at a party like this--he doesn’t want me going in with the wrong idea. It’s very likely he had intended to decline the invitation to spare me the discomfort, and the burden of making a choice that would affect/limit him too. The concern in his features makes me melt.]

The part I love most about this scene is that this is just the beginning of so many attempts on his part to prepare her realistically, but also support her decision. As much as he wants to go with her he's never going to put her in the position of deciding for the both of them. He knows there's a great deal of pressure to face among such a forbidding/traditional society, and if she needs more time to prepare for that--he wants to give her the space to get used to something so unfamiliar. In truth, I don't see him ever asking her to go if she didn't want to--even if it stung to have that part of him rejected...

MC considers for a moment, but she's resolved to understand him and his people better. She explains as much, and Comte brightens at the confession.

MC: “I’m sorry if it’s a bit much to ask of you, but thank you…!”

Comte: “I should be the one thanking you, now I look forward to the gathering.”

MC: “You’re…looking forward to it?”

When I tilt my head quizzically, le Comte draws me close with a faint smile on his lips.

Comte: “I’m excited to introduce you as my wife.” (SCREAMS AND CRIES)

This gets INSANELY cute because he gathers her close to him and she just gets very bashful about it. She apologizes--saying she knows she should be more used to it given they've already been married a year now, but his response is so sweet: “Why apologize? I’ve always thought my wife is the cutest.”

They both think back to their wedding ceremony at the mention of how long they've been together, and MC's eyes find the flower pins she gifted him on top of his hourglass (which fking one he has like 300).

Some background for anyone unaware: when Comte and MC got married, MC gifted him these flower pins--they were flowers that were preserved (in metal I think? idk exactly how it works they just look metallic in his outfit art). She explains that they're an attempt to symbolize her love for him, in that she intends to remain unchanging in her feelings forever. I find it's also an apt metaphor for MC herself; it's not unlike her agreement to become a vampire to stay with him.

MC: “You’ve been taking good care of the flowers I gave you.”

Right next to the hourglass lie the preserved flowers I gave him. They gleam in the light with ease, clearly polished and looked after–not a speck of dust on them.

Comte: “With those you swore your love to me. Isn’t it only natural that I’d take good care of them?” (LISTEN COMTE YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THE REALITY OF THE MALE SPECIES QUIT PLAYIN)

After that scene there's a timeskip to the night of the party--and after everyone celebrates their anniversary in the mansion all day--they hop in a carriage. MC is a little lost in thought, preparing herself for what's to come. When he asks if she's nervous she fully admits to it, but with a caveat. She's nervous because she doesn't know what to expect and she's concerned about committing a social faux pas, but she's not afraid or anxious.

Before I came to this time I had absolutely no concept of what an elaborate dinner party looked like–and besides which, this time it’s going to be a room full of purebloods. I’m nervous, sure, because I’ve never done this before--but it’s not quite anxiety or fear.

MC: “As long as you’re beside me, I’m invincible–anytime, anywhere.”

I can navigate anything: unfamiliar social circles, even an entirely new era of time. Because Comte is always so steady and reliable, always there for me, my anxiety ebbs and I can shine–be the very best I can be.

Comte: “MC…”

Comte looks absolutely moved by what I have to say, directing a gentle, tender look at me.

Comte reiterates his previous warning, that they might be weirdos and/or rude because they're stuck in their ways. He knows their discriminatory nature is wrong, but he believes in her ability to overcome those things--and fully intends to support her. He also lets her know what to expect in terms of the schedule: mostly mingling, and dancing is reserved for the very end of the party only.

Gatsby hour begins and MC marvels at the enormous venue sparsely populated by people dressed to the nines (I can only imagine how Comte dressed her up for this event in light of that LMFAO). Comte tells her he's going to get some drinks, and MC agrees to wait for him. In a classic lowkey queen move, she retreats against a nearby wall to take in her surroundings. She feels a certain intensity to be surrounded by people who look so young and beautiful, and yet carry the experience of lifetimes within them. She also notes the slightest permeating scent of blood in the air, assuming most of the people in attendance are drinking Rouge in their wine glasses.

When Comte returns to her, he offers her a glass of red wine, and she takes it with a smile.

MEAN GIRLS TIME!!!!!

So these two ladies approach le Comte yelling about how long it's been since they've seen him, and about the rumors that he got married. Without missing a beat he confirms it's true, and introduces MC to them as his wife. MC offers a greeting and a curtsy, but the women openly spurn her because she's not a vampire lmao. ("Who put you on the planet" energy, essentially). I still can't tell if they were acting like insane mother-in-laws on Comte's behalf, or out of jealousy--or weirdly both.

All casual dismissal, the women sashay away from us, dresses swishing.

[It seems like I really won’t be accepted as Comte’s life partner so long as I remain human…]

Comte: “…I’m sorry. I’m afraid that is the usual attitude of pureblood vampires. Not all of us are like that, but they still made you feel uncomfortable ;;;;”

MC: “That’s not something to apologize for. I’m happy to attend such a lovely party as your wife.”

I don’t want to ruin the occasion for him, so I beam at him.

Comte: “MC…” His lips descend close to my ear, pressing the lightest kiss against it.

Comte: “Thank you, MC…I’m happy, too.”

While Comte is full of uwus and love for his wife, she notes he stops there--likely because it's a public venue. (And I'd wager respectability politics, given a lot of old school people tend to say horrible things at the slightest sign of PDA lol. It would give them all the more reason to be nasty to MC.) MC notes that no matter how small the gesture or how often he extends his affection, it always sets her heart racing (what a damn mood) and they both gear up to greet everyone else. They're both like ganbatte!!! at each other and it's really cute, haha.

[No matter how many times he does things like this, I’m always caught off guard. I imagine we’ll be this way forever…]

Comte: “Here we go, the party’s only just begun. Let’s get to it and enjoy ourselves. No need to hesitate, it’s our wedding anniversary after all–this is a time for you to smile.”

MC: “Haha, thank you very much! Then I’ll definitely enjoy it to the fullest!”

We continue to greet and chat with other purebloods, the night goes on while I sample some of their food–

At some point MC separates from Comte to use the restroom. When she exits to rejoin the crowd, she hears the voices of those two women that openly rejected her earlier. They basically talk about how Comte and MC will never last or have a meaningful relationship, and that Comte is wasting his time not breeding more master race pureblood babies for the community's future. (Not remotely surprised Leonardo does not like them at this juncture lmao)

While MC was well aware she'd face some level of disdain, she admits that it still hurts to hear--and doesn't want Comte to see her upset. So she walks out to a nearby balcony to look at the stars and cool off before returning to his side.

Comte: “MC.”

MC: “Eh…? Comte, when did you get here?”

Comte: “You hadn’t returned for a while, so I went looking for you.”

MC: “Ah, I’m sorry to worry you. The stars were so lovely I couldn’t help but linger a bit to enjoy the sight of them.”

When I try to hide my gloomy feelings, he stares at me.

Comte: “You seem upset all of a sudden. Did something happen? Did someone…say something to you, by any chance?”

MC: “Ah, I can’t hide from you it seems. I guess I am a little upset.”

Comte: “…”

Comte: “MC, do you regret marrying me?”

MC: “!”

MC: “That’s not the case at all. No matter what finds us in the future, I’ll never regret having married you. I’m glad I met you, Abel–that will never change…”

When I tell him my heartfelt feelings, he gently wraps his arms around me.

Comte: “…Me too, MC.” The voice that murmurs at my ear is filled with such ardor that my heart melts.

Comte: “It might have been too much to ask of you to come here. But no matter how difficult the truth may be, it’s an undeniable fact that I’m a pureblood.”

Comte: “I was so happy that you wanted to know more about me–to know me better–that I was spoiled by your words. And yet, as a result of that indulgence, I hurt you…”

MC: “…No. That’s not it. Abel, I’m not familiar with vampires. But this last year, I was with a pureblood who’s kinder than anyone else I know.”

I have no innate fear or dislike of purebloods–because the person I love more than anyone else in the world is a pureblood vampire.

MC: “That’s why I’m not afraid, or dreading any of this.” It might seem outlandish, but his presence was like magic; it was enough to give me the strength to have courage and find kindness for the people around me.

MC: “No matter who stands in my way in the future, I will do my best to be recognized as your partner someday. Didn't I tell you before? I'm invincible anytime, anywhere, as long as you're there with me!”

Upon hearing her resolve to stay with him, he feels the need to renew his vow to her too--telling her that he'll always love her as well, and that his feelings have only grown since then. One important bit to note in his confession is that he fully admits he had a hard time coming to term with what he was, he's only a little more accepting of being a pureblood because her existence redefines what an eternity means to him. He explains that, while no end of time used to be an upsetting and hollow concept to him, the fact that his long life will be spent cultivating his love for her gives him the strength to face his reality.

They kiss and MC acknowledges that life--no matter how long--always has its ups and downs. Sometimes there will be rough times, like when those Mean Girls women were actively nasty and unfair to her. And sometimes there will be joyous times, like how Comte just repeated his vow to her so sweetly. But more than anything, it's important to live in the present moment as fully as possible, and she deepens her kiss with Comte accordingly.

After what I assume to be an excellent make out, they return to the venue and rejoin the group of vampires. Now then, because it's Comte and Comte refuses to take any shit he reveals his ace in the hand. Premeditated and all cunning expectation, the show begins:

After reaffirming our feelings for the other, we return to the hall. When we wandered around to greet people today, there were also vampires who were kind to me. For those that remain perturbed by my presence, they continue to sneer at me as though I were an eyesore.

[I don’t care. Comte’s by my side…]

Comte: “…That’s right, MC. There was one thing I forgot to mention.”

MC: “Huh?”

Comte: “A short while ago, you said something about doing your best to earn their approval. I wouldn’t even worry about it, you’re perfect just as you are. Everyone here just doesn’t have the slightest inkling as to your charms yet. For those with the ability to see, feel free to show them as many times as you like.”

MC: “Comte…”

At that very moment, a waltz begins to flow into the hall.

Comte: “Oh, is it time to dance already? MC, shall we?” (Oh Is It TiMe To DaNcE aLrEaDy, damn clown)

MC: “Yes.”

In time with the melody, we begin to waltz together. When I'd first arrived to this era, the steps and the dance itself were unfamiliar to me. Now when I dance with Comte it’s nearly effortless–natural as breathing.

[Comte has taken me to so many evening parties at this point. Thanks to his impeccable leading any uncertainty in my step is elegantly disguised.]

Comte: “MC.”

As we danced, he called my name--crooned it softly.

Comte: “…Have you noticed? Everyone is watching us.”

At the sound of this new information, I look around.

[Oh, it’s true–everyone really is looking at us…]

And it’s not like before, tinged with displeasure and contempt. It’s like they can’t look away from us now, dazzled and intrigued.

MC: “Makes sense–you’ve always been a very graceful dancer, Comte, it’s impossible not to find it captivating.”

Comte: “No. Without you as my partner, I can’t enjoy it nearly as much as I do now.”

He grins as he says so, the sentiment reflected in his buoyant step. Beautiful, noble…and above all, lively. Even though I’m always by his side, I remain endlessly captivated by that smile and movement.

Comte: “We are more in tune with each other than every other pair here, don’t you think?”

MC: “Haha, that’s right!”

I think le Comte is lovely no matter who he’s dancing with, but I’m sure I’m the one who gets along with him best–I think so, because his golden eyes reflect no one else but me.

[No matter what anyone says…I won’t give up this position to anyone else.]

When the song is over, and the dance is finished, the hall is filled with the raucous sound of applause and cheering. All these people are looking at us and their eyes are shining.

[I wonder…if maybe our feelings for each other were transmitted more clearly after that dance? The mere thought of it makes me feel ticklish and delighted.]

After their lovely display, the Mean Girls ladies approach MC to apologize as everybody is leaving for the night. MC accepts their apologies and says she wants to find a way to get along with them moving forward, though they're still pretty reluctant (probably only apologized to save face).

Differences in lifestyle and family tradition...I think there are many reasons why they can’t accept me. I don’t think it’s easy to understand the breadth of the gap between us; I’m sure I’ll need more time to be able to bridge those differences.

[I don’t know the way of life or struggle of the pureblood people yet. But…I want to understand.]

Even if we are endlessly different, I don’t want to give up on finding some sort of compromise. Next to me, le Comte smiles silently. For the foreseeable future--as long as it may take--I want to prove that I can make this person happy.

I deadass can't stop laughing at the fact of Comte standing next to MC all :)))))) (y'all he is emitting BOSS M U S I C)

After that, Comte and MC also head into their carriage and head home:

Comte: “MC, thank you.”

Le Comte remarks on the way home in the carriage.

MC: “…? I haven’t done anything worth thanks.”

Comte: “For today, for coming with me. And--up until now and from now on--for being by my side. I wanted to thank you again.”

He leans over from where he sits next to me and entwines our fingers together.

MC: “…Abel?”

Comte: “…Today is not just the day of the party, but our wedding anniversary too, right? From here on out, it’s time for only us two to be together.”

This is essentially where the premium story ends, and then it moves into the epilogue. I'll give some tidbits from the epilogue, just because it was so endlessly gratifying. Other than them having the smash of the century, it's mostly Comte going overstimulation feral service top. But there are so many really romantic moments during the shameless fking ;-;

The more he kisses me, the more my need for him spirals out of control. As if to entice him I twist my tongue with his deeper and deeper.

Comte: “MC…”

He exhales my name on a single heated syllable, and I can tell by the way he’s looking at me precisely what it is he wants.

Comte: “MC, what do you want to do…? I want to make you happy tonight. Do you want me to be kind? Or take you with reckless abandon?”

MC: “Abel…please do as you like. That’s what would make me happiest. :>”

Comte: “…I see. So you want to be made a mess of, is what you mean.”

MC: “Mn, aah–”

When his hands trace my sides seductively, my sensitive body reacts on it’s own.

Comte: “…You’re really cute, MC. Tonight, I’ll remind you the joy of being mine again.”

---

Comte: “Always so sensitive. Just the slightest touch, and you cry out with such a sweet voice…”

MC: “Well, it is your fault…”

[Because if Abel touches me like that…He spoils me and leaves me in an endless sea of pleasure, building up to that crest–fading–and building up again…because he loves me so dearly.]

Comte: “My fault, is it?…I like the sound of that.”

With a bewitching smile, he makes short work of his tie and button down. Even the most casual gestures like this are done with such grace that it becomes sensual. I’m drawn to the sight of him revealing more and more of his skin, thinking he’s far too much of a tease.

Comte: “…If you look at me with such desirous, greedy eyes, I’m going to lose control myself, MC.”

----

MC: “I…all I do is take from you…” I’m embarrassed because I’m so inexperienced that all I do is drown in the pleasure he gives me.

Comte: “…If you really think so, then you’re too unaware.”

MC: “Mn–ah, hah…”

Comte: “I’m the one who can’t stop wanting you…MC.”

When he leans over to murmur in my ear, his voice is suffused with desire–breathing shallow. From the gap between his lips, I can see the fangs which have never broken my skin…

MC: “Abel…do you want to bite me?”

If the answer is yes, then I’d be delighted. A vampire’s hunger for blood is often tied to romantic feeling. If he wants to suck my blood, then that’s all the more evidence that he loves me.

Comte: “That’s right. I want to sink my fangs into your soft skin…To taste your blood, to know your body and soul--I want to make every part of you mine.”

MC: “Mn…”

He drops a kiss to my throat, tickled by his tongue as he licks there–as if to taste me.

Comte: “But…”

Only I am reflected in his eyes.

Comte: “The only thing I want more than biting you is to take good care of you. I don’t want to impulsively take anything from you.”

MC: “Abel…”

....

Comte: “Someday…I will make you into a vampire. But, right now, I want you to stay exactly as you are.”

The heat of him coupled by that serious look...my heart is swept away.

Comte: “So…can you bear with my hesitation for just a little while longer?”

MC: “Yes…forever. I’ll always be yours.” I replied, wrapping my arms around his back. He squinted, as if he were staring at something dazzling.

Comte: “I’m always hesitating, but…MC. I will absolutely never let you go. I swear my love to you forever, my dear wife.”

----

The last part of the epilogue is confusing because I'm not sure if it's intended to be an actual dream or Comte just messing with her, but here goes:

[Morning already…?]

At the sensation of sunlight, I open my eyes.

MC: “Eh!?”

Comte: “Are you up, MC? The defenseless face you make when you’re asleep is adorable, but when you open your eyes and look at me that’s also lovely.”

He was lying in bed, unlike last night, wearing the same outfit he had on for our wedding.

[Ah, I’m most likely dreaming.] When I realize it, I get a ticklish feeling in my chest and can’t help the smile that finds my face.

MC: “Haha…”

Comte: “MC? What’s wrong?”

MC: “No, I was just thinking you really will always be by my side. I’m glad to see you in my dreams like this…I’m happy.”

Comte: “…Haha, that’s right. I’m happy too. But…it’s not always a dream right?”

MC: “Er…”

His voice easily makes my heart flutter, like sweet sake.

Comte: “Would you like to see if it’s a dream? …Once again, with your body.”

My heart thunders under his sultry gaze, covetous gold eyes beckoning me closer. (COME HITHER FUCK)

MC: “Yes, Abel. As many times as you like…take me.”

I know dream-like, impossibly happy days will continue as long as I stay by his side–

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

There is so much going on here that I don't even know how to encompass all my feelings other than to say MARRIED COUPLE G O A L S. AAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE'S SUCH A DOTING HUSBAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PUT A RING ON ME S I R

I really love the endless reciprocity coming from MC, lmao. She very openly wants to respond to his efforts, wants to make him happy too, is just as desirous in their coupling. I also love how much personality and spunk she has??? I was fucking d y i n g when she was like:

MC: "Aren't the stars so nice." Comte: "Adorable that you'd try to out-fake the king faker. What really happened." MC: "Damn it."

It's been a long time since I've gotten this much serotonin from a story m a nnnnnn

[secret-engima]

Tomorrow is looking up to be - absolutely terrible. Can I beg you for some RWBY or FFXV snippets, please?

Of course! I know it is the "tomorrow" you speak of but lemme see what I can dig up-

Team Gremlin:

There was silence for a long, long time. Nothing but Ruby’s sobbing and Yang’s pounding heart and the fear that pressed down on them from all around. Formless, but not nameless. Then she heard the stairs creak and for one moment Yang was sure that “Salem” was coming upstairs to get Ruby.

But then the door opened and Yang saw Dad’s boots, “Girls? It’s okay. Come on out.” Yang didn’t move, Ruby just sobbed a little louder and clung tighter to her. Dad sighed and bent down to peer at them, “You heard all that didn’t you.” He looked … not mad, but stressed. Maybe scared, and that made the fear worse for Yang. Yang clung to Ruby, her precious baby sister with silver eyes that no monster should be able to get to, and nodded. Dad’s face pinched, then he gave a smile that even she could tell was fake, “Come on out, girls. It’s okay. I promise. That was all just- that was adult talk okay? You don’t need to worry about that until you’re older-.”

“Ruby’s eyes,” Yang bit out, “R-ruby has Mom’s e-eyes.”

“It’s okay, Yang, Ruby, I promise. We’ll take care of it-.”

A creak of wood behind Dad and he frowned before straightening up and turning to face whoever was there, “I’ll be down in a minute, just let me-.”

“Taiyang,” Professor Ozpin sounded weirdly calm, more calm than Dad did, “may I speak to them?”

“…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

A sigh, “I am well aware of your opinion on this matter, Taiyang, and I respect it. But they have already heard enough to be terrified. Telling them to forget it now is not only impossible but potentially worse than talking to them. You made your stance on this matter very clear, but that does not apply to your children if it will put them in danger.” Professor Ozpin’s voice softened, “Either I speak with them or Qrow does, but please. Let one of us help.”

Dad didn’t move for a long time, then his boots made for the door, “Fine. But don’t drag them into this more than you have to.” A deep breath, “Girls? I’m going downstairs to check on your mother, if you need anything, just shout, okay? Professor Ozpin is going to talk to you for a little bit. He’ll be very nice.” The last bit was said in the same voice he used when warning Zwei not to dig holes in the yard.

Dad’s boots disappeared and fancy black shoes came closer. There was a pause, then, “Would you prefer to stay under the bed?” Ruby whined and Yang glared without a word. She didn’t know what was going on, but Dad seemed mad at Professor Ozpin and everything was scary and so yes, she wanted to stay under the bed. The tip of his fancy cane tapped the floorboards a few times, then there was a hiss and a whirr of gears like from her parents’ gear and the tip disappeared. With a grunt, he knelt down and then lay down on his stomach like even Mom rarely did. He pillowed his chin on his crossed arms and it was so strange seeing a fancy, famous person lying on his belly on the floor of Ruby’s room that Yang snorted despite herself.

Professor Ozpin’s face crinkled into a faint smile and it looked real and warm, “Hello there. You must be Yang and Ruby. I am Professor Ozpin, I’m a friend of your uncle and your mother. Can I safely assume you heard the most important parts of that conversation? The Grimm and the silver eyes and,” the briefest hesitation, “Salem?”

Ruby finally pulled her face away from Yang’s shoulder to whimper, “I-is she gonna take Mom away and m-make her a Grimm? Is she gonna t-take me?”

“Ah. You have silver eyes,” Professor Ozpin murmured, then his face fell back into that faint, warm smile, “Your mother is alright now, and now that we know what is going on, we will be much more careful. I promise, I will do everything in my power to keep your mother and you safe. But to do that … I would like to tell you a story, and you must both promise me to never tell it to anyone. For the safety of you and your mother.” They nodded, hesitantly, even though Yang certainly didn’t want to hear anymore scary things today. But if it would help keep Ruby and Mom safe-.

Professor Ozpin’s smile faded, but his eyes were still warm, “Once upon a time,” he began, and they listened intently as the man with white hair slowly outlined a story that sounded right out of a fairy tail.

...

Always I Dreamed verse:

Summer had no idea what Professor Ozpin had been thinking, making her the leader of Team STRQ. Then again, the only other real option would have been Taiyang, and as much as she enjoyed his company and was coming to think of him as a good friend and teammate, he wouldn’t have been able to handle the Branwen twins.

Not that Summer was much better at handling the Branwen twins.

They hadn’t done anything to get the team in trouble, but she didn’t know how to deal with them. Taiyang made sense, even if he had a few oddly adorable hangups on things like “modesty” —they were two guys and two girls living in the same room, she didn’t really see what modesty had to do with anything when they weren’t out in public—. Taiyang understood her when she tried to … bond with the team, tried to get them to be more than just four strangers living under the same roof and tackling the same assignments in class. Raven and Qrow on the other hand…

Every time she suggested a group activity, they watched her like she was going to bite. Like they couldn’t fathom the point of learning more about or bonding with anyone outside themselves. Taiyang had suggested it was an out of kingdom thing, but Summer had lived outside the kingdoms until five years ago, and she had never acted like that. Her family hadn’t either. That feral behavior, wary distrust and eerie staring in the middle of the night like even the room wasn’t safe to sleep in without a watch wasn’t anything like what Summer and her family or neighbors had grown up with. The only ones who had acted even similar had been-.

Oh.

Now that’s an idea.

...

Blood of My Blood verse:

The next one was a whole month after Grandma Crepera had first appeared and only a week after the scary man with the mace, but three times was enough for Dionysus to be able to immediately tell what was happening when he blinked his way to awareness in a dream. He looked around uneasily, afraid of being yelled at by someone again, but … there was no one scary nearby. He was in a small little building inside a big, unfamiliar garden. The building was just a roof and little pillars holding it up and a stone floor to stand on with a little table inside and-.

A woman.

She was sitting at the table, working on something, but instead of it being paperwork like Grandpa or taking care of a sword like Uncle Cor, she was … spinning mud? She was making mud spin and pulling at it with her hands, changing its shape with her fingers, and Dionysus hadn’t realized he’d drifted into the gazebo to watch her in awe until she glanced up from her work and smiled at him. She went back to watching her mud, and when she spoke, her voice wasn’t echoing and scary, “Hello. Would you like to join me? I have enough for both of us to use if you like.”

Dionysus watched the spinning-spinning-spinning in awe, but shook his head and tucked his hands behind his back, “Iggy says I can’t play in the mud cause I’ll get dirty an’ it’s unb- unbe- bad for a prince.” He blinked up at her, “How come you’re playing in the mud? Iggy says old people don’ like mud.”

The spinning slowed to a stop as she stared at him and he wondered if she was going to get mad. But then she started laughing, an old, deep sound that felt nice, all the way to his bones, “This is not mud, Cheeky Prince, this is clay. People use it to make things like mugs and teapots and vases. Come, come sit and I will show you how.” She waved her muddy hand and set down a chair next to hers in a flash of magical rosy-blue sparks. So she was family, just like the last ones had been. Dionysus hadn’t known he had so much family before. Then again, he was pretty sure they were all dead, and that’s why they were talking to him in dreams rather than when he was awake —and a part of him wondered if that should scare him, but it didn’t, so as long as they didn’t act scary, he didn’t bother trying—.

Dionysus climbed onto the chair and watched her in curiosity. It still looked a lot like mud to him, but it was a different color from mud, so he supposed it could be something else. The woman was spinning her clay again, fingers deftly shaping and pinching and rubbing, “My name is Nyssia, though some once called me the Just.”

Dionysus thought of the Hall of Arts and all the pictures and statues in it, including some of Grandma Crepera, and wondered if she was one of the pictures in the Hall, “Just like Grandma Crepera?”

An amused twitch of her lips, “Yes, I am like Crepera. We are both related to you, but we are older than King Regis.”

He tilted his head, partially mesmerized by what she was doing with the spinning clay, but curious despite himself about other things. She was like Grandma Crepera and the others, but she hadn’t used a scary voice at all, “How come?”

She hummed without looking away from her work, “How come what, Cheeky Prince? I cannot read your mind.”

Dionysus pouted at her, because wasn’t it obvious what he was asking? But then he said, “You don’ have a scary voice like they do.”

Now she did glance up at him with a look like Grandpa had when he said something silly, “Oh, don’t I?” Dionysus jolted in his seat, startled, but not … scared. Her voice had echoed just now, deep and layered like when Grandma Crepera or Leon had spoken, but it didn’t make him feel like he needed to go hide. It reminded him oddly of the big, booming bells that hung from old church in his favorite movie, loud but mellow. He kind of liked it, but he was still glad when her voice went back to normal as she shrugged, “I merely thought you would not like it if I used that voice. So I did not.”

[caranfindel]

Take these broken wings and learn to fly (15.20 coda)

het, but Wincest-compatible | about 2300 words | PG-13 for language | characters: sam winchester, sam’s blurry wife |

Julia has been widowed (God, what an awful word, widowed) for three years when she meets Sam. It’s a work-based friendship at first. She’s kind of lonely and sad, he’s kind of lonely and sad, and they gravitate toward each other. And then one evening they’re at a bar, the last ones left from an after-work happy hour, both of them drinking more than they should, and she thinks he’s kind and thoughtful and smart and he may be 10 years older than me but he’s still hot as hell and I enjoy being with him and I look forward to seeing him and maybe I should just… and she kisses him. He’s shocked; shocked enough to confirm that he wasn’t just hanging around hoping to make it out of the friendzone. And then he’s holding her face in his hands and he’s kissing her too.

It’s good. They’re good together. It’s not the earth-shattering, all-encompassing romance she had with Shaun. Julia knows she’ll never have anything like that again. Most people don’t even get one soulmate in their lives; no one gets two. And she knows Sam doesn’t have that same desperate love that Shaun had for her; she knows she’ll never have his whole heart. (She knows the woman he intended to marry was killed in a fire, she knows another woman he loved went back to her ex. She doesn’t know which of these women still owns that last piece of Sam’s heart.) But she loves Sam, and he loves her, and they get married.

(The sex is amazing. Sometimes he’s gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid he’ll break her, and other times he’s fierce and passionate and almost tries to break her, and she loves both ends of the spectrum.)

She suggests they melt down her old wedding band to make a new one. It was an heirloom from her grandmother, a plain wide band of yellow gold that she loves, that she thought she’d wear for the rest of her life. But Shaun is the one who put it on her finger the first time. It doesn’t seem right to ask Sam to accept it now. A new band from the old gold seems like a good compromise. No, Sam says, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know a way we can make it ours. He has the inside of the band engraved with the same symbol he wears tattooed over his heart, and makes her promise to never take it off. Bad luck, he says.

He’s such a contradiction. Scary smart, but as superstitious as an Appalachian grandmother. Calm and unflappable, but with a weirdly hyperactive startle reflex. Kind and empathetic, but capable of extreme violence when pushed to his limits (seriously, don’t walk your drunk ass up to Sam Winchester’s wife and lay hands on her, and don’t get mouthy when she tells you to back off) and just really, frighteningly skilled at that violence.

(A little frightening and also very sexy. Julia’s always had a thing for the hero type.)

They both have nightmares. One night Julia watches Shaun’s face melting under his gear and wakes with a cry of horror. Sam holds her as she tearfully describes living on the knife edge of constant fear that comes with loving someone whose job is literally running into burning buildings. I know, he says, over and over, even though he can’t possibly know. The irony of their first loves both dying in flames is not lost on her, but it’s not like his college girlfriend was a firefighter. It’s not like he watched her go to work every day and prayed she’d make it home alive.

Julia’s pregnancy is a wonderful surprise. She and Shaun had tried for over a year before she was widowed, and she just didn’t count on it happening with Sam. They agree not to name the baby after anyone they’ve lost. Let’s not name him after our pain, she says, and Sam is okay with that. (Or he isn’t. But ever since she showed him the positive pregnancy test, she’s known she could ask him for anything. She’s known he would rip out his heart and serve it on a platter if she asked for it.)

But they haven’t decided on a name yet when her water breaks four weeks early. When their perfect baby boy is born at 12:10 a.m., the nurse announces the date and time and Sam looks up at her in shock and blinks away happy tears and says it’s the 24th. It’s my brother’s birthday. Julia is flying high on endorphins; she loves this baby and she loves this man and she even loves his dead brother she never got to meet, and she says it’s got to be a sign; let’s name him Dean.

She takes off her wedding ring, just this once, to have Dean’s birthdate engraved on the inside. Sam does the same with his own ring. He insists they go to a jeweler who will engrave while they wait, rather than leaving the rings there. She waves a hand at her lumpy postpartum body. You afraid someone’s gonna make a move on all this if you don’t keep a ring on it?

He laughs at her and says you’re onto me, even though he’s the one who needs to be locked away, still with that long lean runner’s body and the amazing shoulders and the goddamn dimples. I just don’t like us being without them, he says. He is a sweet, sentimental fool and she adores him. He bends down to kiss her, carefully maneuvering the baby he’s wearing in a sling, and Julia looks at this man and this baby and this life she didn’t think she was get to have and knows she’s happier than she has any right to be. And she’s relieved when Sam slips the ring back onto her finger, this ring imbued with the men she loves, so maybe he’s not the only sentimental fool.

(One thing she loves about Sam is that he understands why she feels guilty that Shaun didn’t get to share this life with her.)

In July they light a little candle for Dean’s six-month birthday. When Julia wakes the next morning, Sam’s side of the bed is empty and cold. She finds him cuddling their sleeping baby in the living room. I got up to give him a bottle, Sam says. I guess I just fell asleep out here. His red-rimmed eyes and empty coffee mug suggest he didn’t actually sleep at all, but, well. They’re both battling their own private demons. If a night cradling the baby gives Sam some peace for whatever reason, she’s glad of it.

Sam’s fierce love for their child takes her by surprise. If Julia has 90% of his heart, his son has 110%. He parents with a vengeance, is the only way she can think of to describe it. Like he’s making up for something. She doesn’t feel slighted, but it’s impossible to ignore that ever since Dean was born, Sam’s prime objective has been to make sure the boy is happy and safe. Everything else comes second.

(When she notices Sam has been carefully marking his tattoo symbol onto Dean’s clothing, hidden near seams and always in a color that almost matches the fabric, she decides not to say anything. He gets a little funny about his superstitions sometimes.)

Sam desperately wants Dean to have a sibling, and they try for another one, but it doesn’t happen. Julia reminds him that they’re lucky to have even one child. That having a sibling is not a lifetime guarantee of companionship and love. She should know, after all, since Stephanie cut her off after she married that asshole Scientologist and decided she couldn’t have a relationship with anyone who wasn’t also in their stupid cult.

Dean has plenty of friends and tons of activities, which Sam encourages with an almost religious fervor, but he never pulls away from his parents. They have so much in common, Sam and his son. Instead of rebelling as a teenager, Dean seems to grow even closer to his father. They spend hours together, paging through the ancient books in Sam’s study (she hates them, they smell musty and make her sneeze) or driving in the old Chevrolet. They even travel together sometimes, visiting those friends of Sam’s that live up north somewhere. Julia met them at the wedding and they were perfectly nice, thrilled to death that she and Sam had found each other. But she always feels like an outsider when they’re around, like they’re part of something she’ll never understand. So much history, with Sam and the brother she never got to meet. They absolutely dote on Dean though, and he seems to love them too, so the boys’ trip to Sioux Falls becomes an annual event.

(Dean is 14 years old when he comes home from one of these trips with his own version of the tattoo.)

When Julia is diagnosed with cancer, Dean is 16 years old. Sam does his best to ensure life goes on as normal for their son but somehow never neglects Julia’s needs. He throws himself into research and is always on top of the latest treatment, always at her elbow with the top internet-recommended remedy for her side effects, making sure both she and Dean have everything they want and need, all the attention and support they can tolerate. She doesn’t know when, or if, Sam actually sleeps. When she feels up for it, he arranges experiences for the three of them. A week lying on the beach, a weekend in New York City, a night in the mountains looking at the stars. When we look back on this time, he says, I don’t want us to only remember how much it sucked. I want us all to have good memories too.

(She doesn’t know why he’s concerned about her memories. There’s a good chance she won’t have much time to enjoy them. But it’s good for Dean. She doesn’t want this to ruin Dean’s childhood.)

Sam insists Dean go away to college as planned. Julia agrees, although she’s kind of surprised he’s willing to let the boy out of his sight. Aren’t you going to miss him? she asks.

So much, he answers. But this isn’t about me, and what I need. It’s about him. They drive Dean to school in the ancient Chevrolet. Supposedly because the trunk has room for all of his stuff, but Julia is pretty sure it’s just one last sentimental road trip in the old thing before Sam retires it. When they pick Dean up at the end of the school year, it’s in her SUV. Dean promises his father, more than once, that he’ll restore the Chevy someday.

Five years after Julia’s diagnosis, she’s sitting in the doctor’s office learning that her last remission was her last remission. There are no more options. She has months, not years. Sam clutches her hand and nods, once, as if to say I should have known this would happen; I should have expected something like this. Then he takes her home.

It’s a blessing in a way, he says late that night, after a little too much to drink. Knowing what’s coming. Having time to say goodbye. You don’t always get that. And yes, she knows this as well as anybody does.

Sam has always been supportive of her choice not to contact Stephanie, but one day he says Jules, I promise I’ll never bring it up again. It’s just that I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you miss the opportunity to say things that you’ll wish you’d said. Julia isn’t sure Steph will speak to her. She’s not even sure she’ll have the same phone number — they haven’t spoken since Dad’s funeral, a year after she was widowed — but she makes the call. And Steph answers. And cries. And comes to visit, where she hugs and cries some more. Sam watches it all with a sad smile for a while, then disappears into the garage to sit in the old Chevy.

When Julia takes her last conscious breaths, Dean is holding one hand and Sam is holding the other. She squeezes her son’s hand and thinks I love you, dear boy, and I’m sorry I have to leave you. She squeezes her husband’s hand and thinks thank you for giving me this, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for loving me and letting me love you. Then she closes her eyes and lets the soft, warm darkness take over.

And then. Then she wakes to a cool breeze and the sound of chirping birds. She’s standing at a lake she recognizes. It’s Shaun’s favorite fishing spot. And Shaun is there, waiting for her. And everything is okay.

Sam does show up eventually. Julia’s sitting on the porch of the cabin with Shaun, enjoying the perpetual nice day (sometimes a spring morning, sometimes a fall afternoon, but always nice) when she hears the familiar rumble. It cant be, she thinks. It can’t be that old car. But it is.

I’m glad you found someone with good taste in cars, Shaun says, as Sam unfolds himself from the driver’s seat. He looks exactly as he did the day she met him; no glasses, only a little grey at his temples. Still tall and strong and beautiful. She runs to meet him and embraces him as Shaun watches from the porch.

You found Shaun, Sam says. I’m so happy for you, Jules. I really am. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of joining her (their) Heaven permanently, but he doesn’t seem to have anyone else with him either. Where is the dead girlfriend? How is this fair?

They talk about Dean, and Julia’s heart swells with pride over her strong, smart, kind, brave son. He’s like you, she says. He’s just like you.

Sam shrugs. He’s a Winchester.

But what about you? she says. You’re not — you’re not alone here, are you?

Nah, he says. I’m good. I promise.

(Eventually Julia meets the first Dean, and she understands.)

===

I know a lot of people have mocked Sam's blurry wife, but I actually have grown to love the concept. Because it means she can be anything we want her to be. And yeah, initially I liked the idea of her being Dr. Cara, or Eileen. But now I don't think that would happen. I think Sam would have to start fresh to have that kind of relationship. And I also like the idea of Sam's wife having her own soulmate somewhere, waiting for her, so she's not a huge part of Sam and Dean's shared Heaven. I mean, they're gonna visit, obviously. And then they'll go home to their soulmates.

The title is from "Blackbird" by the Beatles.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Primum Non Nocere ~ Gregory House x Katrina Black

This may or may not be a personal fic I make for myself, that everyone is welcome to read in case they miss House or sth, so yeah, enjoy the clown fiesta.

There are many words that can describe Doctor Gregory House, all of them ranging from “Brilliant Doctor” to “The Biggest Asshole”...However, there is one person who ever called him “Sweet”, and each time, she got called insane.

Even Stacy, who dated him for so long, looked at her as if she suddenly became a chimera or something, which speaks volumes for his character as a whole.

It’s been 15 years since Katrina moved to America, and 15 years since she begged Lisa Cuddy to allow her to practice Medicine and learn directly from the hospital itself, even though she barely finished highschool and was beginning Medicine University.

Lisa had no reason to accept her, but she was much too sweet and convincing, doing everything asked, from cleaning, to nursing, helping her with management stuff, and then, as years passed, she started clinic duty and steadily, but fast-paced, she achieved her dream of becoming a successful cardiologist, going as far as becoming the new head of the department, since the old one retired.

Just as expected, she became friends with Lisa, James and Greg very easily, and each of them treated her in their own way - As her mother, as her confidant...And as her Mentor, of sorts - As Gregory House was the harshest and biggest jerk in the world, but not even the coldest man alive could resist her weirdly innocent charm.

She was the one to remember the gruff man’s every birthday and give him gifts she made herself - Nothing big, but always meaningful, like a winter scarf, or cute little decorations, engraved medical things and so one - And of course, on every Christmas, apart from gifts, she would bring him marshmallow hot chocolate and other festive decorations for his office, so he won’t feel lonely or bad.

Sometimes he didn’t even realise it, but every time he needed a proper diagnostic opinion, or his interns screwed up, he’d page her, not exactly caring if she was busy with clinic work or with an important surgery, and he’d make fun of her for rushing for “No reason”.

Life is definitely difficult for a shy, young foreigner, all alone in the world, but somehow, with the help of this few people, she managed to find something that she lacked her whole childhood - A true “Family” and a place to call “Home”.

But for Gregory House, this woman, Katrina Black, has always been an enigma he couldn’t deduct - The greatest mystery that crossed his path - He wanted to know her, to understand her, to learn about her and her pain and maybe, for once, he won’t feel as miserable.

The past 5 years especially, after Stacy left him and he ultimately had to live in pain, addicted to pain killers, and while he got more and more bitter, he also began to appreciate, at least in his heart, the unconditional kindness and attention he receives from her

And so, here we are, 15 years after the moment that changed everything in their lives...

“It’s not inflammatory process. It’s not a clot, because Chase’s angio says so. And it’s not cancer, because her tush is perfect. Anybody else got an Aunt Elyssa with weird stuff?” House limped into his office, looking at the three subordinates that were sitting around aimlessly. “...Maybe it’s worth looking into-” Cameron began, but was quickly cut off by the elder one, who looked at the angio once again. “I though you said Carly’s angio was clean.” Gregory blinked, putting both angiograms on the board for a better peripheral view. “It WAS clean.” the Aussie insisted again. “You guys see the problem here?” House asked in his usual over the top way. “There’s no indication of any abnormalities, no lesions, no spurs, no mastis-” Foreman got up to get a better look at the pictures better. “Well, if you guys don’t know, how about I call for the help of our lovely foreigner? I bet she’s gonna be angry for getting her out of whatever surgery she has, but...It’s in the name of science, after all!” he gave a mocking smirk at the trio as he hit CodeRed on the pager.

As expected, it didn’t take long for the girl to arrive, despite being in full surgical outfit, blood still on her gloves and her scrub cover, panting from having to run all the way there.

“What happened?! Are you okay?!” she tried to speak, despite barely being able to catch her breath. “Nothing really. Nothing that would result in the immediate death of a patient, clearly, and as you can see, I’m perfectly fine as well. Why ever would you hurry up like that out of a surgery?” Gregory fooled around, watching the crestfallen expression on her face, as she took off her gloves and scrub covers, revealing the cute and childish green scrub that had foxes on the top. It was her signature style, really - Always wearing the cutest, most childish scrubs, with various animals or flowers, and she was the only one who did that, despite her age, and didn’t care about anyone’s opinions. In fact, others kinda found it pretty nice too, almost giving off a more light and hopeful approach to a hospital. “So...Let me get this straight...I was in the middle of an open heart surgery...And you paged me while I was stitching it back together...With a code red, nonetheless...And I put my subordinate to cover for me, thinking that something happened to you or whatever patient you have...And instead, I find you here with no problem, loitering around with the three stoogies - No offense -...Having a party. Woaw, Greg, be careful, you are overshadowing yourself with every passing day.” Katrina groaned, throwing in the bin the discardable surgery objects and  hopped on his desk, crossing her legs together nonchalantly. “Awwww, you love me, don’t you?” he retorted in a fake sweet tone, making the girl shake her head and chuckle. “Yeah, of course, who doesn’t?” she could barely keep herself from grinning at his silly self. “So what’s the real problem? What did they do?” “We are trying to see what’s wrong with Carly’s angiogram, and I figured perhaps the gorgeous eyes of an exotic, successful, intelligent woman, would be able to see the problem of another successful and intelligent woman.” he tried to speak with more honey than he ever did, just for the laughs. “The girl kissed by fire should dye her hair again. Also...It came to my understanding that most people have...A left and a right leg, right? Why does the angio have two left feet?” she asked, taking her hair out of the ponytail and messing it around. “Et voila! Without even knowing the patient’s problems properly, you saw the wrong when these guys didn’t. See, I told you the foreigner would get it faster than you.” House limped back to pat her head, looking at the three with judgement. “So...Who screwed up something so basic? I wouldn’t have expected someone that works under you to do such a stupid mistake -... No, wait, it was Chase, wasn’t it?” Kat smirked, looking at the Aussie with a playful glint in her eyes. “Wh-What?! Why did you think it was me?!” Chase looked at her with revolt. “Are you trying to tell me it WASN’T you?” she pressed on, watching him blink and get back in his chair. “How did you know?” Greg challenged her, only to see her shrug. “He seems like the only one to screw up something like this because he was trying to charm the pants off some nurse.” she spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You are absolutely correct! Oh, and, stop messing with your hair, you’re leaving strands everywhere.” he grabbed her wrists, and just for a split second, his beautiful icy blue eyes peered into her fawn-like green ones. “Well...Every fire has cinders and ambers, doesn’t it. Now that you basically dragged me out of the surgery room, you have to keep me around for the case. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me purrrowling around, would you?” she joked around, just as Chase got up, staring at the angios he screwed up in complete disbelief. “Yeah. Sure. You do that. At least I’ll have someone competent around.” he nodded his head, a bit awkwardly. “That’s impossible! It can’t be - “ Chase tried to defend himself, despite having no excuse. “Or maybe it was Jenny. How come some resident signed this radiology report? Were you even in the room?” House reprimanded the blond doctor. “I’ll redo her angio- “ Chase tried to defend himself, but was quickly shut down by his superior. “You’ll do nothing!” an angry House was a scary House, which made the room atmosphere tense as hell. “Eric, go do the angiogram, please.” Kat muttered, simplifying the problem. “...I can’t believe I did that.” Chase turned around to look at his fuck up, making the red haired girl sigh. “That’s what happens when you think with the wrong head at the wrong time.” with that, she flapped her hand to dismiss both of them, dragging House to sit down, worrying about his leg. “I am surrounded by idiots.” he dragged a hand down his face in anger. “Yeah, I know what you mean...But they are not stupid, in the long run. Just...Distracted sometimes...At the wrong times, sure, but...They have redeeming qualities too.” she tried to defend them a bit, while also calm him down, knowing very well that nobody can think straight while angry. “Yeah, I know. But neither you, nor I, have ever been distracted by trivial things like this. Speaks volumes about someone’s priorities.” he retorted just as tauntingly as before. “Well...He’s still young...And he knows he’s attractive for most people...I don’t know. I can’t really defend him for this one.” she looked down, sighing. “Then don’t. It’s not your job to defend everyone or try to make me feel better. Look at you. You’re young, beautiful and smart, but not once did I see you being distracted by some boy. Chase has no excuse.” he cut her off, making her smile in understanding, nodding blankly. “Yeah...But you’re the only one who sees me that way. You...And James and Lisa...You’re the only ones that I trust to tell me the truth and be genuine with me...And you’re the only ones who talk to me or hang around me without wanting something out of me. Sometimes things are more complicated than you see at the surface.” her voice became softer, almost melancholic, something that was completely out of character for her, or at least, that’s what he thought.

House was about to open his mouth and interrogate her, in his own weird way, only for his office room to get opened and have Vogler and Cuddy walk right through. With an ever so quiet curse from the girl, she bit her lip and raised her head, trying not to look worried or intimidated.

“What a pleasant coincidence, finding both of you here. I see neither of you conformed to the rules yet. Are you trying to have an anarchy together? Not wearing proper clothing?” Vogler look down at the two of them, which made House blink in confusion at the girl sitting on his desk. “Well, I know I don’t wear a coat ‘cause it’s itchy and tacky...But as far as I’m aware, if my eyes haven’t gone wild from the LSD, Katrina’s wearing a medical scrub.” the man started playing with his cane, only to see the girl shoot him a warning look, mouthing for him to shut up. “Animal scrubs are unprofessional. Nobody in the hospital wears them, and there is no benefit to them.” the businessman refuted with ease. “The benefit is that I make them myself, they are comfy, and people find them nice to look at. My patients feel calmer and more reassured seeing cute things. It makes them see past their health issues, even by a few seconds. And children and teenagers especially love it.” the girl explained herself calmly, before biting her lip and speaking a bit lower. “I’d recommend you wear a cute scrub too, I’m sure they are more comfy than your business suits. Maybe you’ll lighten up and realise we are in a hospital and we work with people, not with documents and money.”  “Haha, you’re pretty funny. Now I see why the two of you are always together. You have a knack for breaking the rules. Or, better said, you completely disregard the rules as if they don’t exist at all for you.” Vogler’s voice seemed to get darker and more threatening. “It’s just a coat and a scrub. House works from his office, and he wears suits, I don’t see how that’s a problem, the same as my scrubs, there’s no rule anywhere saying I am strictly forbidden from wearing cute tops. Do you really feel your authority so undermined by two people in this huge hospital wearing different things, despite not getting in the way of their pristine perfect work? Or perhaps you feel some kind of weird...Inferiority complex that you must hide and keep in check by walking all over everyone as if we are doormats?” Katrina spoke without even looking at anyone, only staring ahead, coincidently, at the messed up angiograms, and for a few seconds, she could almost feel her own legs getting screwed up from the malicious vibe emanating from the businessman. “Katrina...” Lisa brought her out from her trance, sharing a look of worry together, knowing very well they’re screwed either way. “It’s not about what rules are out there or not. It’s about the rules that I make, and making sure you are team players. If you are not, then...I believe we won’t be able to cooperate for much longer. Especially if Dr. Cuddy isn’t able to keep you in control.” Vogler threatened, before turning away and leaving, while Lisa gave her a pitiful look, following behind him. “...Fantastic day, isn’t it?” Katrina put her hands on her face, sighing in frustration. “Do you really make your own scrubs?” Greg asked, making her turn her head to look at him, before nodding. “Yeah. Want one? I can make you a pink one with lots of flowers and smiley faces.” she joked half-heartedly, which made him realise the annoying businessman was affecting her more than him. “Don’t be ridiculous.” he shook his head, getting up, patting her head. “What else do I have left after what just happened.” she stretched, cracking her fingers and spine, as she hopped off the desk, just as her pager started ringing. “Good luck with your patient, Greg. I have to go. If anything happens, page me...But no code red during surgery this time, please.” she gave him a tender smile, leaving the room, making him look after her.

What was it about her today that made her seem off? It has to be only Vogler, right? What else could it be.  The patient, however, has many many symptoms, and no actual disease yet. Fascinating!

As time passed and he got to treat his patient, and even lied to the transplant committee so Carly would get a new heart, and nobody, except for Wilson and Black, who were there, knew about that felony he committed.

On the other hand, during this time, Katrina has been working day and night with barely any rest, other than the tons of coffee she had to down to keep herself awake. There was something very uplifting about overworking, and no, not only your heart rate.

“Hey, Kat.” Wilson raised his hand up to salute his friend, which made her stop in front of him, albeit a bit spazzic like a meerkat, but nothing too out of the ordinary. “Hey, James, how are you?” she smiled at him, walking slowly together to whatever place he was heading to. “Pretty good. Wanted to grab lunch, how about you?” he asked politely, putting his hands in his coat pockets. “It’s lunch already? How time flies...I forgot to eat again. Too bad.” she chuckled sheepishly, grinning at him. “Anyway, have a great meal, I have a surgery to prep for.”  “You should still eat something, you can’t live on coffee alone.” James muttered with concern. “Thank you for your concern, James, I appreciate it. I have to hurry now, eat for me too.” she chuckled, stopping in her tracks, waving him goodbye. “Wait, hold up, I wanted to ask you something.” he stepped closer to her, bending a bit so he could speak without anyone lese hearing. “Do you know what House lied about? At the committee? I know he lied, but I don’t know what about.” he asked, making the girl sigh and shake her head. “No, sorry, I don’t know. If you want, I can ask him when I’m done with the surgery.” she suggested, seemingly interested herself. “If he tells you, that would be great. He seemed to stop himself from telling me because I am a member of both the board and the transplant committee...Which you are as well. Good luck.” he points out, both curious and frustrated with his friend. “Well that’s interesting...Okay, you’ve got me hooked, I’ll see what I can do and I’ll tell you as soon as I find out. Laters.” Kat winked at him, rushing to do the surgery.

However, she didn’t have to do much work, for when she was almost done with the surgery, House himself made his way into the room, examining her working, before speaking.

“How would you fancy dinner tonight?” he asked, which made her look at him, raising her eyebrow in confusion. “Did you talk to James by chance?” she questioned right back, doing the finishing touches. “Yeah, how’d you know?” he asked jokingly. “Oh, you know...Just the usual thing of me forgetting to take care of myself. So, where do we go?” she asked, finishing the sewing and turning around to exit the room. “My home. We get take out, fall asleep since it’s already past midnight...I came with the motorcycle, I even brought your cat helmet, come on, I’m hungry, don’t question so much.” he put his arm around her shoulder, bringing her to the parking spot. “No room to complain much, is there? Is it really past midnight? I feel like I just talked with James a little ago...” she muttered, taking the helmet and putting it on. “Time flies fast when you’re having fun, they say.” House pointed out, starting the engine.

For the rest of the night - Or early morning rather - They finished eating and were relaxing by the piano, playing “My Way” by Frank Sinatra and other fun, classical, beautiful songs, humming the lyrics and reveling in the fact that there were no cases for a while, and no worries, at least for what Vogler is worth.

“Say, mind if I ask you something?” Kat asked, turning her head to look at him. “Yes, a hooker came by just yesterday, how did you know?” he gasped dramatically, looking right back at her. “Oh, just a lucky guess. However, my question was going to point more towards the patient you just had, who needed a heart transplant. I and James were curious about your little white lie.” she chuckled at his jokes, which made him blink at her and frown. “Sorry, doctor-patient confidentiality makes me unable to say anything. As well as ethics. Those are very important rules that everyone must follow for a better place to live in, don’t you think?” she never really understood why, but those back and forth playful banters always made her laugh. “Oh yes, of course...Ethics...How could I possible forget about Ethics? Perhaps you have a dictionary so I can look it up once in a while. And now, for the real reason...I can assume it was something psychological? Some mental illness that nobody was supposed to know about?” she smirked right back at him, only for him to look at her for a brief few seconds and nod abruptly. “Bulimia and self-harm.” Greg answered, which made the girl smile sadly. “Figured it would be something like this...Many women like her have self-issues and they get desperate and lonely to the point where they find the only relief from stress and self-hatred in overworking and terrible coping mechanisms. Buuuut she proved to you she wanted to live, and you fought for her and saved her. That’s amazing. You...You are amazing, you know that, don’t you?” she praised him, a soft smile on her face of something that may or may not resemble admiration. “Where are you getting at with that? It’s almost like you’re praising her...For something.” his voice lowered a bit, almost as if he was interrogating her. “Praise is a big word...Although she is a great woman, without a doubt. I was actually praising you, above all else...And...I was just wondering...Would you...Would you do the same for me? Should I have been in the same position as she was.” she asked, as a matter of fact, which made the other doctor raise his eyebrow at her. “Why would you be asking something like that?” it was clear that by now, the atmosphere got a little bit tense, until she started randomly playing “Carol of the Bells”, such a beautiful, uplifting Christmas song, yet House could almost smell the nostalgic undertones it had. “You are being very weird, Katrina.” “Oh, come on, lighten up, it was only to satisfy my scientific curiosities. Christmas is coming, I haven’t slept in two days, I’ve been drinking so much coffee that I think I’ve transcended into another universe altogether...And everyone is weird in their own way, you can’t tell me otherwise. Now come on, answer me, don’t be such a killjoy.” she grinned, nudging him playfully with her shoulder as she got closer to him, trying to get him to stop thinking it was some greater problem. “...No.” he answered solemnly, which made the girl blink and tilt her head to the side like a confused puppy. “No...You won’t do the same for me, or No...You won’t answer?” Kat asked softly, hoping to get a straight answer out of him, but that’s never the case with House. “Figure that out when you go to sleep tonight. Good night, Kat.” Greg said, getting up from the piano and making his way to his dormitory, leaving the girl alone.

Sighing, she continued to play “Summertime” from Gershwin to calm herself down, before getting up herself and walking all the way to her home, albeit not a long walk, yet still relaxing thanks to the cold outside that relaxed her.

The next day, Katrina walked in around the clinic with her big Triple Espresso Caramel Latte cup, going around to do her clinic duty, only to get paged by House once again, most likely to help with another diagnostic, or point out some obvious idiocy one of his subordinates has done.

On the way there, she spotted the big bad wolf, so she hid behind numerous people and quickly ran up the emergency stairs to escape her fate, until she got to the diagnostician’s office, catching her breath.

“Why did you run? There was no code red this time.” he asked, wagging his cane around. “Yeah, well, code V from Vendetta spotted me, so I had to pretend I didn’t see him. The emergency stairs are a blessing, sometimes.” she chuckled, leaning, on the glass wall, taking big sips from her coffee. “Have you thought about what I said last night?” he asked, and by then, the eyes of the onlookers seemed to go back and forth between those two. “I would have...But as you can see, I didn’t exactly sleep last night. Again.” she gave him a sarcastic, exaggerated grin. “Yeah, I can see that. You look dreadful. Do you make it your personal mission to go in the Record book for the idiot who refused to sleep the longest?” he limped in front of her, making her sigh and roll her eyes. “It wasn’t for lack of trying, okay? I go to bed, it takes hours to fall asleep, and when I do, I have nightmares and sleep paralysis, I wake up startled and restless, and there is that, I can’t fall asleep back again because of overwhelming anxiety. Are you happy with my answer?” she looked up at him with an almost annoyed look in her exhausted eyes. “...Nope.” House dragged his answer a bit, as if he was thinking over some rationalisation of her behaviour. “Are you taking pills?” he asked again, popping a Vicodin pill. “Uh...Should I?” she muttered, blinking questioningly at him. “Maybe. If you don’t already. I’m not entirely sure if you are or not, unless you tell me.” he pointed out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Or maybe I need a long vacation in the Maldives. Or to go back home in Europe. Who knows, maybe sleeping in the Sun, on a beach chair, hearing the ocean waves would prove to be a great way to fall asleep and actually...You know...Sleep!” she shrugged and turned around to leave, but he hooked the semi-circle part of his cane around her neck, bringing her back, making her yelp in shock. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been acting off recently.” he limped in front of her, blocking the exit. “Ah, yes, of course. An anomaly in an otherwise boring human who is bound by routines. How could I forget how much you love solving these anomalies? But, you see, I’m not your patient, so I have to ask you to refrain from trying to diagnose me, and return to whatever your guy has.” she tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge, which only made her sigh in aggravation. “I think...You are hiding something.” House pushed her with his cane just enough to look at her better.  “Yeah, you’ve got me. Something completely unexpected...Like...Vogler giving me a hard time and threatening to fire me, despite being the head of the Cardiology department...And Christmas is approaching and I’m as lonely as always...Oh, and, how could I forget, my family wants to visit. My family. Who hasn’t contacted me in like 15 years. Suddenly wants to visit me. I’m SURE they want to have a very nice, lovely chat with me. Now that you know how miserable my days have been lately, can I go back to being miserable in my own department, where I can actually do something productive with my time?” it wasn’t often when she got so worked up, but it was clear she was stressed out and needed some way to vent or relax. “Don’t you want to know the answer to your question?” he looked down for a few seconds, before looking in her eyes, noticing how her eyes were puffy and droopy, and her bottom lip was quivering lightly. “...I don’t know.” she muttered, moving past him and going back to the clinic to do her job as she’s supposed to.

Of course, Vogle continued to be a problem for everyone, Christmas passed and she was just as lonely as every other year, so she drunk herself to sleep while listening to old school songs from her native country, because no matter how silly they were, they still made her feel happy and nostalgic.

Things continued to go array for everyone in the hospital, so bad and so hard that the evil businessman called for a board meeting to fire House, which caused a shit ton of problems for everyone, especially Kat, Wilson and Cuddy...But the only ones who refused were the first two, which escalated to another meeting right then to fire them...On her own birthday, barely a week and a half after Christmas.

“Doctor Wilson, Doctor Black. I was hoping you were gonna miss this one.” Vogler said as soon as the two entered the office room and sat on their chairs next to each other. “A man is the sum of his actions. Here are a few of Dr. House’s. He violated a D.N.R. and was charged with assault. He brought a termite into the O.R. and spat on a surgeon. He accepted a Corvette from a patient who was a known member of the New Jersey Mafia.” the businessman began, only to get stopped by one of the surgeons. “Ed, look-” he tried to reason, but was harshly cut off. “Edward.” Vogler looked sharply at him. “Edward. You look at anyone’s career, you can find things that are-” the surgeon began to speak again, only to get quickly shut down. “These are the last 3 months! He’s personally had more complaints filed against him than any department in this hospital.” Vogler continued, and James tried to reason this time. “Okay. He’s screwed-up. He’s miserable. And he should probably re-read the ethics code, but it works for him. He’s saved hundreds of lives.” Wilson explained, but it was clear Vogler was on a war path. “He is a drug addict who flaunts his addiction and refuses to get treatment! He is a disgrace and an embarrassment to this hospital.” this statement made the red haired girl groan in annoyance and let herself fall back on the chair. “No, he’s not a drug addict, that’s what YOU want to see. How would you feel if your leg was in excruciating pain because of a surgery choice you had NO choice over, and yet, you still had to work, save lives, and think properly? House MAY look like he’s some kind of insane jerk, but he is known all over America for being THE best diagnostician and was able to save people that otherwise, in the hand of ordinary doctors, would have died. Oh, and, those complaints have always been revoked or solved once the patient...You know...LIVED! You just want him fired ‘cause he’s not being your obedient lap dog. If you are so brave to speak ill of a person when he’s not around, why don’t you also have the guts to speak the truth?” she leaned forward to glare at her enemy, as Wilson put his hand over hers, trying to calm her down. “Says the one who’s always by his side, helping him indulge in his nefarious medical fantasies. Let’s keep this simple. Either he goes, or I go.” Vogler spoke, making Katrina rest her chin on her hand, watching him closely. “You shouldn’t personalise this.” Lisa tried to reason, but this guy was over the limits. “And by I, I mean my hundred million dollars. How’s that for personalising?” he started at poor Lisa, who was in a huge dilemma. “Who knew adults could be so petty? You give us money for a reason, and then you threaten to take it away because one doctor, the only one who cares about his patients more than anything, does his job as he is supposed to. Very mature.” Kat sneered at him, rolling her eyes at him. “Gregory House is a symbol of everything wrong with the health care industry. Waste. Insubordination. Doctors preening like they’re kind, and the hospital is their own private fiefdom. Health care is a business, I’m gonna run it like one. I hereby move to revoke the tenure of Dr. Gregory House and terminate his employment at this hospital, effective immediately.” Vogler declared, which made the red head jump up from her seat and slam her hand on the desk. “Since when can you decide for everyone? Are you some sort of God or what? You are WRONG Ed. First of all, Gregory House is the ONLY doctor in this hospital who is capable of being perfectly objective and save ALL his patients, even from the weirdest, most unexpected diseases! Secondly, yeah, we ARE Gods, in a way! We actively get ourselves in the line to save hundreds of lives, we...We HOLD their fates in OUR hands! He is not the problem, and Health Care is NOT supposed to be a business! This is not a business corporate, this is a HOSPITAL! A place where we, DOCTORS, save lives! You wouldn’t get it, you’re not a doctor! You didn’t have to see people in agony, begging to be killed, nor did you have people crying in happiness for being saved! You know absolutely NOTHING of medicine! You have NO right to fire Gregory House, just like you have NO right to tell us, who spent over 10 years of our youth studying constantly, and more than 10 years having this healthcare as our everyday life style, that we should do this for money, and not for the people!” the room went silent from the shock of her outburst, since nobody, in 15 years, saw her so agitated, and yet, she was right...Against the wrong man. “Fascinating and touching speech, I must say. Now I know what I have to deal with. Now then, let’s resume to our votes. All in favour of firing Dr. Gregory House?” Vogler asked, cheekily raising his own hand, which was slowly followed by everyone, except for Katrina and James, who looked at each other with worry, letting their arms fall back from the table and holding hands for comfort. “Dr. Wilson? Dr. Black?” Vogler tried to nudge to give in, but it was for naught. “Opposed.” both of them answered in unison, knowing that either way, they’re screwed. “The...Motion is defeated.” the business man sighed, letting silence hang in for a few seconds, before speaking again, in a chirper voice. “Dr. Wilson, Dr. Black, would you mind leaving the room, please?” “Excuse me?” James asked, frowning in confusion at his words. “We’re going to take another vote.” Vogler explained, as if it was nothing. “We are board members. We have to be here when you vote. You can’t void our votes by making us stand in the hallway. And, as far as I’m aware, you need notice and at least one business day before you can reconsider any matter.” James continued, knowing very well that he can’t prolong the agony. “We’re voting on a different matter, which you are conflicted out of.” Vogler stood up, looking solemn over everyone. “How can we be conflicted out of? What is that even supposed to mean?” Katrina asked, looking at Lisa, who seemed to have an apologetic look on her face. “This vote is whether to dismiss Dr. James Wilson and Katrina Black.” everyone looked down hearing that...Katrina and James were a completely different matter, compared to House... “Oh, great, yes, fire everyone who is speaking the truth and doesn’t go by your stupid business idea. Newsflash, not everybody is a greedy fuckass like you are. Some of us are here because that’s why we wasted our life for! Saving! LIVES! If you guys, after so many years of working together, think that I and Wilson should leave, then fine, sure, vote yes. But if you’re doing it because of this guy...Then congratulations, welcome to communism. Trust me, I’d know, I’m Romanian.” looking with disgust at that guy, she grabbed her friend and left the office without another word, and when they got far enough, she slammed her back on a wall, pulling at her hair. “At least I know why House likes you. You were right. You have always been an admirable doctor. I hope one day he will appreciate you as he should. Its not like he has many people who actually tolerate him...” James put his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her out of having an anxiety attack, until Vogler came by, looking as menacing and narcissistic as usual.

He threatened both of them, saying they have the option of leaving the hospital, otherwise he will destroy them...Which means that there was at least one person who voted to keep them there.

There was no point in trying to comfort each other, so instead, they went to their own offices, packing up everything they owned.  However, instead of packing, Katrina stood criss-crossed on her desk, looking at her prized possessions on the shelves, including her awards, diplomas, random little plants and flowers, cute decorations...And a fox that had a heart in its mouth, that she received as a gift from House, Wilson and Cuddy when she became the head of the Cardiology department.

She didn’t even realise how tears were falling down her face, she almost felt numb to it all, but in reality, her heart hurt like hell and she couldn’t imagine how life would continue to go on from now on.

The sound of the door softly opening was blocked away by her personal phone ringing, and with a lethargic move, she raised her phone, without looking at the caller ID, and answered.

“What do you want?” Kat sighed on the phone, not having the strength to fake cheerfulness as she usually did. “Oh, sweety, hi, how are you?” ...it was her mother...What a coincidence. “Why are you calling? You haven’t contacted me since I left the country. I’m not sure you realised the passing of time, but it’s been over 15 years.” the girl sneered over the phone, clutching her grip on it. “Don’t be like that, darling, I just wanted to see how my eldest daughter is doing! You see, we want to visit you tomorrow, and -” her mother began, but was quickly cut off by her daughter. “You’re in America?! Why in the world are you here?! You NEVER left the country!” her alarmed reaction was rightfully explained, as her mother only laughed fakely. “Well, you see, your sister is very sick and she needs organ transplants and...You are a perfect match! Your sister really, really needs your kidney, liver and heart, and -” of course the only reason she’d call is because she needed her... “You...Called...So that I would kill myself...And give my organs to your precious daughter...Because I don’t deserve to live, but she does...Sorry, you might not have been informed, I’m a stone cold bitch without a heart, and I’ve always been. If you want organs, beg to a transplant committee, otherwise, I’m not giving my life to some stupid bitch who thinks she’s better than me. Oh, and, by the way, in case you’ve forgotten, you already disowned me long ago, so there’s no reason for you to call anymore. And don’t call me to the funeral, I won’t come. Bye.” Kat aggressively slammed the phone lid close, before throwing it on the ground, putting her head on her hands and finally breaking down to cry...

But there were no tears.

There was only exhaustion.

“Hey.” the low voice of Doctor Gregory House echoed through the room which made the girl squeak in surprise and turn back to look at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on people?!” she accused him, clutching her blouse where her heart is supposed to be. “I knocked. You didn’t answer, I let myself in. I...See you’re not having the best day.” Greg pointed out, which only made the girl roll her eyes and turn back to look at her shelf. “Yeah, no kidding.” she snorted, her hands grasping her ankles as she looked down. “Why did you come here? Did Wilson tell you what happened and you came to throw some pity words and say how you saved the patient? If yes, then go ahead, I’m listening...As always.” she waved her hand around, urging him to talk and stop being so awkward, but the silence seemed to cut them with a laser. “...Thank you.” the words she never heard uttered from his mouth before shocked her so much that she turned around to look at him, holding the eye contact that she was barely able to hold with anyone. “You...You? Gregory House? Are...Thanking...Me? For what? You never thanked me for anything I did to you, so why the change of heart? Did Wilson’s golden tongue melt your heart and mellowed you?” she taunted him to get him talking, but his expression didn’t seem as harsh or condescending as it usually did, instead, he seemed to be...Almost apologetic? As if he realised that his actions of being himself hurt the people he cares about. “Do you hate me?” Greg asked, which made the girl frown and blink in confusion. “You...Think that I gave up the best thing I’ve ever had, which is my job here, because...I hated you? I loved this place because you were here...And James and Lisa...But now that it’s all over...What are the odds of someone hiring all three of us at once, and...Lisa miraculously becoming the head of another hospital and...Yeah, I’ve got nothing, it’s all ruined. Guess I can finally get a vacation. Anything else you want to say before I fuck off completely out of your life, just as you wanted to?” it was clear that she was exhausted and just wanted to go home and be herself with no more veil of lies covering her. “You...You are too good for jerks like me, Katrina. You should hate me. I repeatedly ruined your happiness time and time again.” House muttered, looking down at the floor. “Right...I’m sorry for caring about you, I guess...If that’s what you want me to say. Stupid Katrina, huh? Always caring about others and forget about herself. Always so miserable and helpless, but nobody seems to notice. Stupid, lonely Katrina, who has no friends and no relatives to care for her...Who only want her alive to donate all her organs to her sick sister and she can just die for all anyone cares. Now, thanks for telling me that I should hate the only person I actually gave a damn about and trusted whole-heartedly. You made your point, as usual, you want me out of your life, I will do just that. Have a not-so-miserable life from now on...At least you.” she wiped her face from the tears, waving her hand for him to leave her alone already, as she looked at shelves again and hugged the fox tightly to her chest, burying her face in it. “The answer is yes.” was the only thing House said as he left her office, his head hung, and for the first time in ages, he felt his own heart aching at the sight of the girl crying.

While he did as he usually does, spending all his time saving his patient, she drank herself to sleep, day and night, listening to sad songs, singing them at the top of her lungs, hoping it would be therapeutical, but at some point, she forgot what it meant to be properly rational, and she touched the forbidden stash she was never supposed to use.

And in the end, at whatever god forsaken hour of the early morning, she called someone, and dearly hoped they would answer. She had no idea why she called this person...Maybe because he was the first person in the calling list, or maybe there was some other underlying reason that she didn’t want to accept.

Apparently, being drunk out of your wits out on the terrace of her penthouse, while singing at the top of her lungs some silly or depressing Romanian songs, as outside was freezing cold and snowing heavily...But she didn’t feel the cold, despite how light she was dressed...It wasn’t enough make her feel something again.

“Katrina? Do you know what time it is?” a gruff, sleepy voice asked on the other end of the line. “N-No, not really. I wasn’t even sure who I called. Sorry.”  she sighed, as she started to cry. “Are...You crying?” a rustle from the other side resembled House getting up rapidly from the bed. “I-I think so, y-yeah. I...I didn’t realise I was crying. I-I don’t even know why I called you.” she gasped, taking another shot of vodka mixed with chocolate bailey’s. “Are you drunk?!” House spoke in a higher voice, obviously shocked, putting on his coat. “You don’t even drink!...I’m coming over.” “N-No, y-you can’t! You can’t see me like this! And...And I have to know something very important from you! It’s VERY important! Life or death important!” she raised her voice into the phone, unkown to him, as she was fidgeting back and forth on the couch, which made House stop in his tracks just as he touched the door knob. “What is it?” he asked in a way so she would try to calm down. “D-Do you...Do you hate me?!” the desperation in her voice was something so foreign for him to experience, but something so usual for her. “What?! What’s that question, why in the world would I hate you?! Katrina, what did you do?!” he slammed the door shut, rushing towards his motorbike. “I NEED to know that! Just answer this simple question! Please, Greg, just answer!” her voice became more strained and desperate. “...Of course I don’t hate you. I couldn’t. Not you.” he sighed, getting up on his motorbike. “No matter what I did?” she started sobbing by now, which really worried the man. “Yes, of course, now hang in there, I’m gonna be there in a few minutes.” Greg put his phone on speaker, in his jacket, so he could still talk to her, as thankfully, their homes were pretty close to each other. “Greg...I-I’m...I’m afraid...I...I did something bad...Something very bad...” she turned around on the couch she was lying on, watching the sky as she shivered, snow falling on her, as she took another shot. “Katrina, I’m waiting at the elevator. What did you do?” House kept tapping his foot until that dreadfully slow elevator pinged, showing it got to the bottom floor, then got in, waiting to reach the pent house. “I...Took pills...” she muttered, clutching the box of pills. “How many?” he asked urgently. “I-I don’t know! I’m drunk, I’m hurting, I’m desperate, I’m lonely and I had a bottle of pills...One, two, three, four, five...And then it’s all blurry...But the bottle seems pretty empty...And I’m scared of an OD...” she explained over the phone, and then, she heard the front door slam close, and next thing she saw was a tall figure rushing in front of her, then he crashed on the couch on the terrace, and he pulled her to his chest, putting his jacket around her shoulders, his hands on her face, trying to warm her up. “You...Absolute...Idiot!” Greg scolded her, which only made her chuckle weakly. “I really am, aren’t I?” she said as more tears fell down her face. “You really don’t hate me, do you? Now that you know?” she clutched tightly to his Tshirt, as he could only sigh and hold her tightly. “No. I don’t hate you. I can’t...Now show me the pill bottle.” he told her, and suddenly, he felt her fall limp in his arms, just as she pointed to the empty, knocked down bottle of anti-drepressants. “What did you do...” Greg muttered in horror as he dragged her to the bathroom, getting her in the bathtub, completely dismissing his aching leg, as he used the shower tap to get warm water on her, while he made her vomit all the pills she downed, hoping she wouldn’t need to go to the hospital, and obviously, that nothing would happen to her.

For the whole night and morning, he didn’t move from there, only holding the girl, checking on her at regular intervals of time, making sure her vitals were still normal... Until she heard a string of incoherent mutters, begging him not to leave her alone and that she doesn’t want to to be away from him.

Oh, Kat, if only you knew what kind of effect you had on him...What kind of pain you were making him feel...The grief of being betrayed by Stacy, the one he thought was the love of his life, and then the painful leg...And now you, someone he cares so much for...

She deserves so much more...She is so much better than he is, House thought, and yet, the selfish part of him, the one that was quickly beginning to gain terrain against his sensible one, desperately wanted to cling onto her and have her be his lover together.

Funny how the ones who look to be the healthiest and happiest are in reality the best actors and nobody knows if there’s ever anything wrong with them.   Which only made her kindness and feelings towards him more genuine, he thought. She’s in constant pain, just like him, it was no wonder she could sympathise so well with, unlike everybody else...Or maybe she was just empathetic enough? More like Pathetic, she’d say, no doubt.

Time passed at an irrelevant pace, until she finally began to stir in her unconscious state, and finally, she fluttered her eyes open, making Gregory sigh in relief, and as soon as they made eye contact, her cheeks began to turn a hue pinker.

“Greg...? Why are you...? What happened...?” Kat muttered, clutching her head in pain. “You don’t remember anything from last night?” he asked, frowning in confusion. “...Sorry. I know I was pretty sad...And I was listening to music from my childhood at home...And I started drinking...And I remember the bottle of pills taunting me...And from then on, it’s all blank. Did I...Did I call you...?” she clinged on his shirt to get into a sitting position. “Yeah, something like that. Can you stand? You need to change into dry clothes before you catch the Rhino thing.” he joked, making the girl smile softly. “Oh no, not the Rhino thing!” she chuckled, and with a bit of help, she got up, and was able to change into proper, warm clothes. “I’m starving, wanna go eat something? I have some coupons for the Chinese restaurant just down the street.” she hooked her arm to his, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sounds like a plan, let’s go. But before that, you must promise me never to do something like that again.” House looked at her with seriousness in his eyes. “Okay. I promise. I...I don’t know why I caved in like that. I always promised myself I’d never go that far...I fucked up once, but in a different way...And...I guess in my drunk state I didn’t realise that no matter how many pills I take, the pain won’t go away...Drunk people are really stupid, aren’t they” she chuckled awkwardly, lowering her head in guilt and shame as she used her chopsticks to get some noodles. “...People in pain do stupid things sometimes.” Greg muttered, letting silence take over them for a few minutes, before speaking again. “Happy late birthday, Katrina.” his words made her look at him with eye, confused eyes, before taking out her phone at looking at the date, realising she spent her whole birthday drinking. “I...Completely forgot...Guess now we’re even, huh?” Kat smirked, pointing her chopsticks at him in amusement.

Not much time later, House called Kat over to his office at evening, and everyone dear to her was there, celebrating that Lisa managed to get rid of Vogler once and for all...Of course, of the 100 million $ too, but that’s besides the point. They were back in business, the shock family, ready to save more lives again!

Everything went back to normal - Or well, the normality that was entrapped in their weirdness - But it was THEIR normality. A chaos of going back and forth, arguing, almost killing patients, and then, saving them miraculously.

However, nobody is safe from illness, and one day, during some diagnosis discussion, Kat was pacing back and forth, thinking and saying her ideas for the others to refute or agree to, only for her to abruptly stop in her tracks, her back facing everyone as she coughed.

“Haemoptysis.” she muttered, only for House to grimace. “Haemo-what now? Last time I checked, our patient didn’t cough nor spit blood.” but instead of answering, she coughed up a bit more, her hands covering her face. “Vertigo...” she spoke again, in a much fainter voice. “What the hell are you babbling about?” he hit his cane on the ground, only to see her taking a few steps forwards, albeit, a little wobbly. “I’m...Gonna...” and just as she uttered those words, her legs gave out, and she fell, the only reason for not hitting the ground being Greg’s Godly reflexes which ensured he caught her. “Damn it, not again...What are you three sitting around for? Get a crash cart and a nurse!” House scolded his interns, who rushed to do just that. “What did you do this time, Kat...” he shook his head in disdain as he brushed her gorgeous crimson hair out of her face.

She looked so peaceful now, unconscious, were it not for the blood on her chin and hands, but now, unlike last time, she didn’t look like some kind of undead who was ready to give up her life at any given moment out of sheer misery and self-hatred.

As soon as she was taken away from his arms, he refused to go look over her...He didn’t want to admit it, but he was afraid that, since he cared so much about her, he would become unreasonably subjective and he may completely screw up her diagnosis. Greg hoped with all his heart that it was nothing life-threatening, but blood in her lungs was no easy, nor simple thing.

Wilson visited her and held her hand, Cuddy visited her and kissed her forehead, even his subordinates went to check up on her because they wanted to...Even her cardiology colleagues went to see how she was doing...

But not him. Never him. Because if he did, he was screwed for life.

No matter how much he wanted to deny himself, however, he couldn’t help but find himself in her room, in the middle of the night, sitting on a chair besides her, holding her hand in both of his, kissing it and thinking of her diagnosis.

That is, until her hand suddenly started to shake, startling the doctor besides her, as she opened her eyes, panting for air.

“Hey, you okay?” House asked, squeezing her hand gingerly. “Urgh, yeah...Just had a nightmare...Followed by sleep paralysis. Again. Nothing new, here. Uhmm...It may sound as a bit of a deja-vu,  but what in the world happened?” she sighed, getting into a sitting position, looking at him. “You tell me. You coughed blood, got dizzy and fainted. Did you take anything? Felt bad or something?” he asked, making the girl scratch the back of her head awkwardly. “Nothing that I haven’t felt before, really. I have anxiety, I frequently experience restlessness, problems with breathing, arrhythmia, sometimes dizziness and stuff. It’s inconvenient, but you get used to it, so I didn’t took any pills, especially not after that scare a few days ago. Do you...Think it’s because of...My fuck up?” she looked worriedly at him, but he only looked down, thinking. “Not so fun being on the other end, huh?” House smirked before shaking his head. “I have no idea. We need to do some tests on you before we can confirm anything. But you’ll be fine, that much I can guarantee.” he promised, which made her smile sadly, leaning back on the pillow, squeezing his hand back. “Can you stay with me a bit longer? I, uhm...You know...Problems sleeping...When I’m with someone...I tend to sleep better...And a close to a full night. I-I don’t know why, but it’s always been like this.” she brought up the hem of the blanket to cover her face. “Then get a boyfriend and sleep with him. You’re young, smart and beautiful, there’s nothing stopping you from that.” Greg muttered in a low voice, almost self-deprecating. “Yeah, that’s easy. If men actually went out of their way to talk to me...And that hasn’t happened in 15 years, so, as you say, Mazel Tov. That, and I’m afraid of people.” she sighed, biting her lip in embarrassment. “Whaaaaaat? No boyfriend in 15 years? No action? I don’t believe you.” he took off the blanket from her face, only to see her blushing face. “You’re the only person that I never lied to. I’m great at lying and deceiving and all that...But yeah, I know, I’m pitiful, don’t have to remind me. Why do you think my life is mostly spent in the hospital. I’m not as lonely as I’d be at home.” she looked away, snatching her blanket back. “You don’t have to stay. It’s much more comfortable sleeping in a bed, especially with that leg of yours.” “Yeah, it would be. Now close your eyes and get some sleep.” and so, he didn’t budge from her side the whole night, and she didn’t wake up from nightmares or restlessness. 

Days went on, and she kept on getting tested, and House was beginning to get more and more angry at the fact that he wasn’t able to properly diagnose her faster, and he was becoming unbearable for everyone around him.

On the other hand, just as Lisa and James were visiting her, trying to keep her company, when the two people she never expected to see again burst into her room with wide grins on their faces...Which in turn, made Kat drop her phone on the ground from the shock.

“What the hell...?” the red haired girl’s bottom lip quivered in anger. “Kitty-Kat, darling, we missed you so much! You haven’t come home in 15 years!” the mum stepped forward, ready to throw her arms around the girl, but she was met with hostility as Kat dragged herself backwards in the bed, away from her, pure disgust glowing on her face. “Don’t you dare touch me! And don’t you even think about calling me that nickname! I don’t care if you’re my parents, you never gave a damn about me, so don’t pretend to do now that THE perfect daughter is terminally sick and needs a quick organ donation that would ultimately KILL the useless, unwanted, worthless daughter!” Kat sneered at them, untangling the respiratory oxygen tubes who got knotted in her sudden gesticulation. “Kat, are you alright...?” James walked next to her bed, trying to calm her down, only to get yelled at. “No, I’m not! Get them out of here before I get a restriction order!” she continued to glare at them. “Come one, Kitten, don’t be like that, we came all the way from Europe to see you, when you didn’t even give us a call! I don’t know why you hate us.” the dad gave an awkward smile, as if he was embarrassed by his problematic child. “You didn’t call once to tell me Happy Christmas, or...Or Happy Birthday...You didn’t congratulate me on finishing University or on...Literally anything. And now, you come to me only to make sure that I actually die so you could take away my organs and make sure your favourite daughter keeps on living...And you’re actually...You really...Have the guts to ask me WHY I hate you? I hate you because you never cared for me, that’s why!” she gripped the hand grasps of the bed, not realising that House also got in the room. “No need to be so selfish, darling, it’s just a few organs that you could live without! We managed to find a heart transplant, we just need a kidney and part of your liver!” the father tried to negotiate, only for her to grit her teeth. “You know what? I hope my sister dies the most painful death there is, and that you go off after her. We may be blood related, but I was never your daughter. And you know what? Just to make sure...You think you can get my organs? Here’s my response to that!” in a fit of rage, she ripped her oxygen tubes, which continued with violent coughing and some blood. “Why the hell do you even want me to treat you when all you do is get yourself in self-harming situations? First, you OD on anti-depressants while drunk, and now you’re cutting off your oxygen supply to prove your point that you have mummy and daddy issues and that you’d rather die than...Die? You’re just a selfish, immature girl with suicidal tendencies whenever things don’t go her way. You think I’m gonna lie to the transplant committee for someone like that? Because the answer is NO!” House limped in front of her, speaking with so much hatred that it made the girl cry and shake, crestfallen at the words she heard. “And you just had to go ahead and tell everyone that I’m fucked in the head. I wonder how much that is gonna up my chances of actually...Making friends and...A boyfriend...Y’know...Literally anyone who’d actually give a fuck about me. So...Yeah, thanks, you’re right, I’d rather die than being humiliated by the only person I ever actually had any genuine feelings for, because I’m sort of a sociopath with relationship traumas. So, if you could do me a favour, before I pass out, pick these two idiots and get yourself out of this place before I call security, okay? Thanks, bye.” and just like that, she started coughing up more blood, and fainted.

Seeing her being a reckless idiot drove House through the roof, and he realised that maybe, his dad wasn’t the only one to need a “Parent Of The Year” award, but even so, the fact that Katrina was so angry that she felt the need to be so overly dramatic to prove a point, and to have Cuddy kick them out of the hospital, sure was meant she was desperate, and for good reason. No wonder she never spoke about her family, or about anything about herself, unless it meant some nostalgic things about her country and other things that could come up as funny when told properly.

But why the hell does she have to make everything so much more complicated to him, especially now that he completely screwed up everything and she hates him.

How the hell did he manage to fuck up like that, just when he finally got ready to tell her how he feels...How he GENUINELY feels, without having to get full-sarcastic-jerk mode, and just telling her that he’s over Stacy completely and he’s ready to commit to her...And he just ends up basically telling her that he hates her, which is a complete lie.

Great job, Gregory House. The only thing you’re capable of doing is diagnosing and saving people, and sometimes, even that fails. Good thing she was okay, and with some anti-coagulant medicine, the clot that was causing her pulmonary embolism completely disappeared, and she was all ready to go.

Ever since that day, House didn’t visit her, her parents completely disappeared, and James and Lisa were completely pitiful, which only made the girl miserable. Thanking whatever deity existent that it was the last night being stuck in the hospital as the unfavoured party, so she went up on the roof, sitting on the little wall edge, looking up at the starts on the sky, putting the saddest song she ever knew to play on her MP3 player, which was “Daca ploaia s-ar opri” from Cargo, and as she softly sang the lyrics, the door opened and the sound of tapping cane was heard, 

“I have no idea what the words are, but he song seems pretty sad. What gives?” House limped towards her, which only made her groan and roll her eyes in annoyance. “Aaaand you had to ruin the most emotional song as well. Great, what is next on your long list of destroying? I have no dignity, no pride anymore...My health you can’t legally screw...And there’s nothing else on the table is there? I have no heart anyway. So why are you here?” she asked, not even bothering to look at him. “Would you believe me if I said I came here to apologise?” House asked, getting closer to her, then turning his head to look up at the stars as well. “After what you pulled in that room...No. I don’t believe you anymore. You’re a jerk. You’ve always been one, but not to me, and not enough to actually hurt me. Now you did. Congratulations. You lost a friend...Not that you’d care, anyway. You’ve proven me that enough. You can go now.” she sighed, hugging her knees to her chest. “Yeah, I know, I fucked up. I got scared when I saw you pull that stunt, I panicked and...That happened. And I’m sorry about that. I admit that much.” he said as he put his coat around her, hoping she wouldn’t die of cold or something. “Fantastic, the asshole knows how to apologise. Congratulations, you are amazing. Now, do you actually expect me to believe you, or what are you trying to accomplish?” Kat asked, giving him a sarcastic smile. “Before you got sick, I was...I was going to ask you out. But then you got sick, and in turn I got worried sick.” Greg began to explain, only to get cut off. “No, you’re lying or pitying me. You don’t like me. I’m not...I’m not Stacy, or...Or Lisa. I don’t challenge you with every turn you take, I’m not a jerk to you, I am...Practically nothing like the women that you have been interested with, so excuse me for not believing a word you say. I was sick, vulnerable and pitiful, you were miserable, you heard that I haven’t dated in 15 years, you thought I was desperate for love, but trust me, after what happened when I was 17...I don’t think I want anything like that again.” she tsked, looking away from him, laying her chin on her knees. “I know I’m a jerk, but does that really sound like something I would do?” his voice sounded almost hurt at the implication. “...No, it doesn’t. But I also don’t believe that you like me and you’re not saying that just because you heard my dying words...Allegedly. You’ve said your speech, now you can go, and we will continue our work as it always was, without having to see each other, so no more paging me when it’s convenient to you either. Goodbye.” she waved her hand to dismiss him, but he didn’t budge. “What will it take for you to believe me? I will give up my parking spot for you. I will play the guitar for you. I...Will convince Wilson to give me his stupid dog so you could visit him more often. I don’t know, you know I’m horrible with these things called emotions. But I want you to know that what I say its genuine...And apart from what I said today, I never lied to you. So, if you ever have it in your heart to believe me and give it a chance...I’ll be waiting. And...I’ll be here to listen to you talk about your pain as well.” he confessed, and as soon as he turned around to leave, she quickly extended her arm to grab his wrist. “You...Really...Mean it?” she muttered, not daring to look at him. “Because if you fuck up, I swear I’m going to do something completely unethical and against the Hippocratic oath. Primum non nocere, they say. First of all, don’t do harm. I’m completely fine with killing you, because, in case you don’t know, I’m a sociopathic, heartless foreigner with no morals or ethics.” she smirked at him in amusement. “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of Nocere, if you have the Vicodin for it. Fire-Kissed girls are said to kiss the best. If we test that theory and it’s true...Then I think we both know we’re gonna work pretty well. If you want to.” he looked at her, putting her hands of her face, looking at her tenderly. “I really hate that I was made broken from the making in factory to be completely unable of hating how big of a jerk you are. Why is it so...Endearing, when it comes from you, but completely repulsive when it comes from anyone else? I can’t tell, and it’s annoying, because I can read people to a T. On the other hand...There is another saying...Vixens always get what they want. Maybe I finally scored the big jackpot.” she chuckled, pulling him down in a soft kiss, the feeling of warmth and love lingering on, intoxicating them even after they parted. “Yeah. I was right. You’re like my own fix of Vicodin or Amphetamines, and I’m completely addicted to you.” he flashed her a charming, playful smile, before kissing her with even more fire and passion than before. “Careful, you don’t want to OD, do you? You’ll need a detox or rehab.” she laughed at him, putting her hands over his, kissing the inside of his wrist. “Oh, please, I’d OD on you ever day, as many times as you want, and I’d have no regrets. You know what they say...Tout le monde necessite La Petite Mort.” he retorted just as cheekily, which in turn, made her laugh merrily. “I can’t believe-! You just...You just said that-...! You’re an incredibly, annoyingly good flirter, especially because I told you those pick up lines before...But don’t forget about me.” she shook with laughter, winking at him mischievously. “Wilson’s ex-wives always praise him for being the best. I’ll prove him I’m better than him at everything. Especially this.” he chuckled, sitting next to her, putting his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his chest, kissing the top of her head. “You better not talk about...That...To Wilson...Or Lisa...Or anyone, for the matter, or I swear, that little death you’re talking about, will be more literal than metaphorical.” she threatened him, poking his sides. “Oh, no, I’m scared of a little fox biting my nose while I’m asleep. Whatever could I do?” he mockingly called for help, which, as usual, made her laugh. “Jerk.” she grinned, hugging him tightly, cuddling closer to his side. “Yeah. I’ve been called that a lot.”

[kim-ruzek]

“Is that my shirt? ” for Burzek!

22. “Is that my shirt? ”

I had MANY ideas how to take this, but I decided on this...which turns out to be the best idea since this is a full on fic!!! It's 2.2k words long (actually, technically 2222 which is a neat fact) and I so, so hope you enjoy!!! This is your treat for being such an amazing person + gifmaker who I appreciate so much!

Nerves pooled in Kim’s stomach as she watches Adam standing in her new living room, looking around at it. He’s not looking critically, or with any real interest, Kim would bet, but the way his eyes scans the room makes her feel weirdly exposed, in display.

It shouldn’t. He may have never been in this apartment before, but he’s been in her old apartment, he’s seen how she decorates the place, the photos she keeps on display, how she organises things. Hell, they even lived together. She shouldn’t feel so nervous, so anxious to have him in her home. She hadn’t even felt this way the first time he was in her previous apartment.

But logic doesn’t factor in, no matter how much she wishes it did. This was the first time they’ve been alone in such an intimate way since the break-up. This apartment doesn’t even feel particularly new to her; she moved out of her old one a month after the breakup. But Adam’s never been here, never stood in here before. She’s had this place for months and this is the first time he’s seeing it.

They’ve been alone, since. The locker room, interrogation room, Molly’s, at Kev’s when he pops out for a minute. They’ve been tentatively rebuilding their friendship, and so there’s been times they’re alone, especially when they work together. But like this? Alone, in her place, no one else around, and not even an hour since they kissed? This is a whole other level of intimacy, and it’s wrecking havoc on her nerves.

Kim shouldn’t have invited him back here. But he was undercover, and Kim was oh so worried. He was gone, and she didn’t know if he was okay, when he’ll be back, if she’ll ever get the chance to apologise for how she ended things and her subsequent actions after. And then he was there, calling to her, talking to her.

Emotions were high, all she could think when he was gone was about how much she missed him, how much she wanted him, about how he was the best thing she ever had. Then they were kissing, softly at first, then deeper, firmer, and the taste of him was so good, so strong and Kim needed more, craved more.

Before she knew it, after they pulled away for breath, she was inviting him back to hers. To talk, she had quickly added after, trying to ignore how the words came out as a breathy whisper. A ghost of a smile had danced on Adam’s lips then.

To talk, he said, smiling. Yeah, I’d like that.

Adam had then told her he needed to talk to Voight first, and Kim had given him her address, heading home to await his arrival. Her nerves had doubled, tripled as she waited, gnawing at her nails as she questioned the decision to have him over.

And then he had knocked on the door, leading to him being here, in her apartment, standing in front of her.

“Do you want something to eat? I was going to put something on, but I thought I’d wait for you.” Kim asks him. Adam stops looking around the room, instead, looking right at her. He shrugs a little.

“Sure, I guess.” It’s awkward. It makes the air feel tense, suffocating, and all Kim wants to do is alleviate all the awkwardness, to make it feel good, natural between them again. Her stomach twists with worry, fearing that the only way she’d be able to do that is if she could turn back time.

“How did it go with Voight?” She tries a different question. Kim’s curious about this herself, with Rixton being here now. They rather, her and Kev, got the impression that Voight was pissed at Adam, and with how tight Voight and Rixton seems, she worries about what that means for Adam.

Adam’s jaw tenses, flexing slightly before he answers. “Bad. He’s angry with me. Replaced me, as I’m sure you know.”

“Rixton’s not temporary?” Kim says.

“That his name? Rixton? Yeah, he’s not temporary. Here to stay, apparently. There’s no room for me, now.” Adam’s voice is collected, and because Kim knows him, because he was her fiancé, because they were to be married, she knows how much restraint he’s welding right now to not outwardly show his frustration. He sighs, sitting down on her sofa.

“What does that mean for you? I mean, he can’t just kick you out, right? You went undercover, you did a good thing for this city.” Kim takes a couple steps towards him before halting herself. She wants to be near him, to comfort him, but she gave up that right.

Adam lets out a dry, humourless laugh. “You’d think. No, apparently because I took off without telling him, that means I’m out. Even though he pretty much implied that if I had just asked, he’d have let me. So I’m on patrol duty now. Guess it’s only right,”

“Adam,” Kim sighs, her heart aching for him. Intelligence is his life, and this, this is devastating for him. And it’s all because of her, because she broke it off, because she didn’t try hard enough to make sure he was okay with her moving upstairs.

“I’m sorry, Adam. That’s... that’s not fair. You don’t deserve this.” She says, approaching him, and tentatively sitting on the sofa cushion beside him. He waves her off.

“It’s fine, really. I should’ve asked, this is my fault.”

“No, it’s not.” Kim tells him, firmly, instinctively reaching out to rest her hand on his arm, giving it a comforting squeeze. Adam’s looking forward, but his head jerks around at the touch, looking at where her hand touches him. She pulls away, inwardly cursing herself for being too casual, too familiar with him.

“This is on me. I’m sorry, if I hadn’t...if I hadn’t broke up with you, if everything that happened hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t have needed to go undercover. And now, because of me, you’re... you lost your place.” Kim’s voice breaks slightly, something she berates herself for. This is about him, telling him this, apologising and trying to amend things. Not about her, and her feelings, and her hurt and ego.

“Kim, no,” Adam shakes his head, turning in the seat to look at her. “Listen to me, this isn’t on you. Look, okay, I’m not going to argue with you that had things between us happened differently, I wouldn’t have gone undercover. But I made the choice not to tell Voight. I should’ve, but I was worried that if I told him I needed time away that he’d bump me down—ironic, really. Or that he wouldn’t keep you upstairs, and I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. So I ran. And now I’m paying for it, and that’s on me.”

Kim gives him a smile. “Look at you. You just lost your job and you’re concerned about me. You’re a good man, Adam Ruzek. I must’ve been crazy to let you go.”

The last sentence fell out of her mouth before she can stop it. It was merely meant to just be a wistful thought for her mind alone, but her mouth had betrayed her, the nerves weakening her filter, and now the words are out there.

They stare at each other, neither one knowing how to respond to what she just said. The air between them becomes awkward once more, but also thick, tense, and Kim knows that the kiss they shared is heavy on both of their minds.

Adam clears his throat. He moves back as he does so, alerting Kim to realise that they had both leaned in to each other. “Uh, you said something about dinner?”

His voice is a little raspy, and she tries not to focus on how it makes her feel, how it sends shivers down her spine, how it makes her ache for him, how the air thickens with intention. Instead she moves back herself, taking his out.

“Yeah. Should I make your favourite? I’ve got the ingredients.” Kim offers. Adam flashes her that gorgeous, heart fluttering smile of his.

“I’d like that. If you don’t mind.” Kim smiles at him.

“I don’t mind. It’ll be my pleasure.” She says. Her mind goes back to the first time she ever cooked him dinner, and she wonders if he’s thinking about that moment too.

“Uh. Also, if you don’t mind. Can I use your shower, before dinner? I feel a bit ugh.”

“Yeah, sure you can. It’s this way. Come, I’ll get you some towels too.” Kim leads him through her apartment, and into her bedroom, her heart skipping a beat as she does so.

“The bathroom is through that door there, and I’ll get you those towels.” Kim indicates. She expects to see him gone, in the bathroom by the time she turns back around with the towels, but he’s not. He’s still standing in her bedroom, staring off, to the right of her.

“Is that my shirt?” He asks before she can even wonder what possibly could’ve caught his eye. Kim spins, quickly turning to look at what he’s spotted, her face no doubt turning a fierce share of red. Lying hung over her chair is one of his old shirts, and Kim’s face burns redder as she remembers tossing it there this morning after wearing it to bed.

“Uh, um..” Kim stammers. She’s turned back round to look at him, eyes wide, feeling ever so much like a deer caught in headlights. She sighs, knowing there was no way out of this, no denying it. After all, before she nabbed it from him, way back when they first started dating, it was his favourite shirt. No doubt why he recognise it with ease.

“Yeah. It is.”

Adam looks at her strangely. “I assumed you tossed any other items of my clothing that you found at yours—after giving me back everything. I noticed I still didn’t have stuff and I just assumed.”

“I—uh—that was never a consideration. And this, me having this, it isn’t a accident, you know? I deliberately didn’t give it you back. I know that doesn’t make sense but I couldn’t let all of you go.” Kim admits.

A few months ago, the thought of admitting this would be impossible for her, but that was before, this is now. This is happening after Adam went undercover and she learnt what life could be like without him in it in any capacity. This is happening after they kissed for the first time since the morning they broke up. This is happening when all Kim wants is to turn back time, to have him forgive her and take her back.

Something dawns on him. She can tell, because his expression shifts, because she knows his face, his expressions, everything so well. She had wished that she’d forget, but it’s etched so deep into her mind she knows she never will.

“You never stopped loving me, did you?” He asks. Adam’s looking so shocked at her, and it makes her realise she still has so much to learn exactly what the breakup did to him, how it made him feel, what he thought.

“No, I never did. I couldn’t. Some days I wished I did, because it’d be simpler. But I don’t think I can ever stop loving you.” Kim tells him. She then takes a deep breathe, knowing this is it, knowing that this is her moment. “And I never want to. I love you, Adam Ruzek, and I want us to be us, again.”

Adam stares, shocked, unblinkingly, frozen at her. Kim’s heart pounds, and she quickly begins to speak again.

“I know I don’t deserve another chance, and I know we have a lot to work out, a lot to talk about, a lot for me to apologise for. And I know I was selfish, but I want to be selfish again, because I want you, Adam. I want you so, so much. I’ve been sleeping in your shirt, wishing it still smelt like you. So, if there’s any chance—” Kim rambles, and then Adam is moving, striding towards her, interrupting her as he softly grabs at her, as he kisses her with all he has.

And then Kim is kissing him back, pressing her body against his. Tasting him, touching him, needing him. She’s been craving him, and now she’s got him kissing her again, she wastes no time in getting her fix. Kim knows her kisses are filled with desperation, with desire. She’s holding nothing back, holding no passion from the kiss, moaning wantonly as she does so. She doesn’t care, all she cares about is him, kissing him, having him.

Adam pulls away, and Kim moans at the loss of contact. Only of their lips, as he’s holding her as tight as she’s holding him. They breath hard, out of breath from the prolonged kiss, looking deep into each other eyes.

“If that didn’t give you any indication, darlin’, let me be perfectly clear: I want you, I need you, I love you and you most definitely going to be able to have my shirt smell like me. And I’m never letting you go again.”

[rawliverandcigarettes]

If you're still willing to do the character meme, I won't ask about Aria since you already discussed her at length not that long ago, but /is/ there a character you would like to talk about but which is, shall we say, less obvious than Mordin ? Basically, [Insert Character Here] for the meme. No pressure though.

Hey, thank you for the freedom (and so very sorry about how late I am ;_;)! I pondered a lot about who I wanted to ramble around, and I think I've been in a big Miranda mood lately so I'm going to talk about Miss Lawson!

favorite thing about them: her relationship with expectations and accomplishment/self-definition. The more I replay the game, the more that specific aspect of her deeply touches me, to the point where I discover myself relating to her more than with any other character in the games. She’s at once trying to follow an impossible blueprint, being expected to behave perfectly because she was “made that way” (whatever perfect means, in this instance the weirdly fetishist definition of a weird rich white guy), but at the same time if she expresses these controlling behaviors towards herself or others, she’s bossy and unlikeable. It’s almost like she’s been made to play a game she cannot win! (not to excuse the shitty controlling things she does to Shepard’s body and the fact she’s literally in a pro-human terrorist ring, but this mess does make a lot of sense with who she is, her envy, how she was shaped) Her relationship to Oriana is also very sweet (I almost always shed a tear at the end of her loyalty mission, I don’t know why this gets me when it’s so hard to get to my tearducts in videogames!!!), because in a way it’s also about Miranda showing herself compassion, and revealing her yearning at a second chance she’ll never have but can only offer to someone else.

least favorite thing about them: unoriginal, but the fixation on the butt? It’s a fanbase thing pushed by the game and its weird fixation on it, but... yeah, while I don’t mind that she uses her sexuality as a form of powermove (people are going to be gross about her anyway, may as well own it and make it do work for her, I get that), I think the fixation on the butt iiis weird and quite deshumanizing and it completely glosses over her great boobs COME ON PEOPLE

favorite line: I don’t remember the specifics, but the entire dialogue where she talks about the complex relationship she has with envy. Envy of Shepard, envy of Mordin, envy of everyone who was allowed and encouraged to express their full potential without feeling like they own all their accomplishments to the person who made them, and all their failures to themselves. She was designed to shine, and then made to step in the shadow of, mostly, “greater men” (her father, TIM, even MShep in the “default” way ME2 was marketed). This sucks!!!! I feel that so bad!!!!  

brOTP: I mentioned her and Mordin in Mordin’s ask, and I still enjoy that quite a lot! I also saw several mentions of Miranda and Grunt bonding over being “made”, and I am won over. This is very cute. But to be honest she strikes me as severely lonely because she’s crippled with her inner battle against herself and can be cold and offputting as a mean to assess control, so I think it takes her a long time to open up to anyone in the Normandy crew --especially since nobody likes her really. Perhaps she could have courteous exchanges with people like Samara or Thane, but I don’t see her baring her soul to any of them before perhaps late in ME3 (Citadel DLC and such). I like the potential of what her relationship to Oriana could end up looking like too, obviously!

OTP: honestly I really like a well-made Miranda/Jack. It can absolutely have this catty/porny “hot girls fighting” vibe which is not mine personally, but I think having Miranda reconciling with her own story of objectification/grooming at the hands of Cerberus alongside Jack is interesting, as well as allowing herself some leeway and tap into more spontaneity would really help. Jack, on the other hand, might need someone stabler to allow for her growth, and someone she can also somewhat hold accountable. I feel like that’s a delicate thread and I’m not even sure this would be the kind of relationship that *should* last given how intricately linked Jack’s history of trauma is to Miranda, but I enjoy the idea of a post-war relationship that takes slow steps and allow both of them to calm down, reconsider and heal. I saw mentions of Miranda and Kaidan, and I don’t hate it either! I think he would pair with her quite well, be a good support and they could have a nice equal relationship. Miranda and Jacob could be a thing? But I don’t entirely understand what their dynamic would have been like so I’m left grabbing at straws here (and she seems to be quite formal towards Jacob all things considered so I’m wondering what that even looked like).

nOTP: I don’t really have one. Even the really bad ones (like Illusive ManXMiranda) could be interesting if written well, even if they are repulsive in other aspects. I guess her relationship with MShep can irk me if “poorly written”, as it can absolutely make her that femme fatale prize of MShep that deny her that equal recognition I understand her to crave.

random headcanon: I HC that, despite being quite dominant in the ME2 love scene, her romantic behavior would be a little more muted once she trusts her partner (I believe she did that whole show to impress Shepard and try to control/maintain a sense of superiority because she’s afraid to be crushed by a stronger force than her, as mentioned above). I think she needs to be vulnerable in private and strong in public to be at her more confident/healthiest mentally, but I’m not even sure she’s ready to express that desire to herself yet (or maybe by mid ME3).

unpopular opinion: I’m not sold on Miranda wanting a “normal life” necessarily as presented in the Citadel DLC? I think she does need to relax and stop putting so much pressure on herself for sure, but I still believe she also wants to become her own beacon, the hero of her own causes, defined by herself. I wish we could have seen her become a little more of that before the end of the game (like the organizer of a movement aiming at taking down Cerberus from the inside-out, something like that, unrelated to her father/her genetics). I don’t know how I feel about us telling her (especially in the romance) to “just chill out and have a normal life”, while in ME2 she had trouble with finding her own success and didn’t ask to be made lesser. She didn’t want to be normal for its own sake, she wanted to be normal so she could exist without the shadow of everyone that defined her getting in the way (I also believe that’s why Cerberus’ views spoke to her, as warped and messed up as they are --their goal is very much about self-definition, at any cost). But it’s possible I’m projecting, I wouldn’t put it past me. :) :) :)

(From: https://rawliverandcigarettes.tumblr.com/post/659045472796803072/mushroom-cookie-bears-send-me-a-character-and)

[luverofralts]

Post Arkhelios

She had put on a positive face for Abe, but internally Ulyssa was extremely conflicted about her feelings for Roman. She knew that he legitimately cared about Abe, but also knew how self absorbed Roman could be. It was the Bellamy way to act like they were above everyone else and Roman had learned a lot from his grandfather. It seemed like Abe was the only person able to cut through the Bellamy brainwashing and get Roman to feel. In the corner of her mind, Ulyssa wondered how Roman would have treated the situation if she had gotten pregnant from their brief affair or if he’d ever been able to seduce her idiot brother. Probably even worse than this, if she was being honest with herself.

Her feelings towards Roman were always in flux because of the huge wall that he put up between him and the world. She was never sure if she actually liked Roman or was attracted to him, or felt pity for him, or if she secretly enjoyed their little arguments. Maybe Abe could help bring that wall down permanently one day, or at the very least, keep Roman from pissing people off so frequently.

Ulyssa left an hour later, after making sure Abe was in an okay place about his boyfriend. If she wasn’t sure about her feelings about Roman, she at least was starting to see Abe and Lucy as friends because of all of this. In a place like Arkhelios, teen friendships seemed to be rare, and however this all ended, Ulyssa was glad that she had gotten to better know the Chuns. Between this secret, and their parents running off together, she knew that if she needed support, she could actually find some back in Arkhelios.

Abe had gone to bed immediately after Ulyssa left, if only to have some time for himself away from Lucy’s over protectiveness. His mind was swirling with thoughts and feelings that he needed to process by himself without her open anger at Roman. To be honest though, he was starting to feel influenced by her remarks. Maybe Roman wasn’t coming back after all. Maybe he would return to school, and only see his family over school breaks.

An even worse feeling came over him suddenly. What if he brought home someone else from Pleasantview? Even if it had been arranged by his grandfather without Roman’s input, Abe wasn’t sure that he could live in an Arkhelios where Roman was engaged to some rich sim and forgot about all about him. He knew Lucy thought about this possibility all the time, and it had been Roman’s mission to bring new people here by any means necessary....

Abe buried his head in his pillow and groaned. This was a line of thought for tomorrow, when he didn’t feel so hopeless.

His bedroom door squeaked open, and Abe figured that it was just Lucy checking on him again. He turned on his side and pretended to be asleep, so she wouldn’t stay to make even more pitying remarks about Roman’s intentions.

“Abe? Are you awake?”

Abe bolted up quickly in his bed. He’d know that voice anywhere!

“Roman! You’re here! I can’t believe it!”

Against all odds, Roman was actually standing in Abe’s bedroom. Unless this was some kind of magical hallucination or trick, Abe had been right about Roman’s feelings for him.

Roman looked awkwardly at his feet.

“....Hi. How are you?” Roman cursed himself internally for being so awkward. It was just Abe after all. Still, it felt weird to talk to him now without bringing up the elephant in the room.

“Lucy was convinced that you were half-way to Veronaville by now.”

Roman flushed furiously. Neither teen moved for fear of spooking the other one. Abe could feel the tension in the room like it was physically pressing on him.

“I just needed some time,” Roman said. “I shouldn’t have run...but I’m here now. I want to be there for you...if you still want me to be.”

The tension began to ease. Abe quickly crossed the distance between them and grabbed Roman’s hands, placing them on his ever expanding stomach.

“Of course I still want you here!” he said fiercely. “It’s all I’ve been wanting since I found out about this...situation.”

The two teens sat on the floor and looked at the ground. Neither one seemed to know what to say. Roman reached for Abe’s hand, which caused Abe to jump and Roman quickly withdrew his own hand. Touching each other was what had caused this situation in the first place, and Abe still had Lucy’s warnings ringing in his head. Maybe if Roman had come immediately things would have been fine, but Abe had been freaking out alone for days now, and there was still awkwardness between them. Roman cleared his throat.

“H-how have things been?”

“The morning sickness has gotten a lot better, thank god,” Abe replied, and Roman nodded sympathetically.

“That sounds rough.” He made and held eye contact with Abe. “I’m sorry that I took so long to get here. I...I’m sorry that I put you in this position to start with. I never intended for this to happen.”

Abe reached for his hand without hesitation this time.

“I know,” he said. “Neither did I. It’s been kind of a roller coaster of feelings the past few days.”

“My uncle Hunter is adopted,” Roman blurted out suddenly. “His dad was Launce Durant, and my grandparents adopted him.”

Abe realized where this conversation was heading, and he was glad that Roman brought it up first. He had heard the Durants talking about their long lost half-brother before, and everyone wondered who Hunter’s other parent had been. Abe’s mom used to date Launce, but everyone knew how Launce’s life had spiraled out of control when his brother Benvolio died. Any one could be Hunter’s mother or father. Elaine had certainly not commented on Hunter’s origins, and Abe figured that if he had a half-brother out there, she would have probably mentioned it by now.

“When I worked at the orphanage, the kids seemed pretty happy,” Roman continued, playing absentmindedly with his shoelaces. “Some of them got adopted really quickly. I don’t think anyone here would know if...if we went there.”

Tears were starting to well up for both teens. Abe nodded and wiped his eyes.

“Yeah, no one would know,” he repeated sadly. “Maybe that’s best. Hunter seems really happy, and Launce sees him all the time now.”

Abe crawled back into his bed, and Roman mindlessly followed. Abe wrapped himself around Roman and tried not to cry.

“Roman? I don’t want to be like Launce,” he whispered. “Stay with me? We can figure this out together. What’s the difference of our families finding out about us now instead of when we’re in college? It’s only a few years.”

Roman froze momentarily, remembering his grandfather’s anger at the idea of him even talking to the Chuns, and the disappointment of his grandmother for not heeding her warnings about him following his hormones. He thought of how intensely Elaine watched him while he was near Abe, and what Lucy and Ulyssa surely thought of him by now.

He pulled Abe in closer to him.

“Okay,” he vowed. “We’ll do this together. Who cares about who knows.”

Elaine left for work early in the morning, blissfully unaware of the teenage drama brewing in her house. Oriana had pressing business at the bank for Abraham’s estate, and hitched a ride downtown with her wife, leaving the house in Ironman’s control. He had been acting a little dodgy lately when she talked about the kids, but she chalked it up to him readjusting to having Elaine back in his life, and getting to know the kids he had never seen because of Elaine and Abraham’s fighting.

Ironman purposely started his house cleaning away from the noisy kitchen, where he could hear Lucy shouting. Better to have plausible deniability and not check into that, he decided. He wasn’t sure to what extent his programming would allow him to keep information from his partner, so knowing nothing was probably the safer route. He felt that Oriana and Elaine would have more compassion than Abraham had shown for Elaine all those years ago, but he didn’t want to risk history repeating itself.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lucy was shouting presumably at some one who didn’t normally live there, and was therefore a part of this messy situation. Ironman made himself scarce before he found out more.

Jorah had come over to walk to school with Lucy like he usually did, and was currently holding her back from attacking Roman.

“It’s romantic, he sighed dreamily. “Two people from fighting families falling in love and running off to start a life together....”

Finding Roman making pancakes for her brother was the last thing Lucy had expected to see that morning. The fact that they were acting so weirdly in love, and holding each other like they had planned this whole mess...It was impossible to stomach. Roman abandoned Abe for days and now here he was making a mess of the kitchen and spouting off syrupy declarations of love to her idiot brother.

“Jorah you can’t be buying this,” she groaned. “This is ridiculous! This isn’t a Veronaville soap opera, it’s real life and you two are about to ruin both of yours. Don’t let Roman drag you down like this Abe. He may have hit rock bottom, but you still have a future!”

“I haven’t hit rock bottom,” Roman corrected while flipping pancakes. “Dropping out of school means that I have time to be a dad now, and I can make breakfast for Abe every day.”

“Dropping out? You are being expelled,” Lucy corrected angrily. “And you have no money, no job and now no education. Where are you going to live? How are you going to pay for things like diapers and you know, basic things like food?”

Abe poked at his pancakes nervously.

“Well, Mom might let us stay,” he said. “Or the Bellamys. I’m sure they’d understand, and want to help raise their grandkid.”

“You think Mom is going to let Roman Bellamy live in our house? You think the Bellamys won’t just kick you to the curb? Look at how they’ve treated Adam his whole life. Look at how they’re treating him and Omar now!”

“But this would be different,” Abe protested. “Our families could come together now and be happy. Romeo and Juliet’s love always ends the fighting in the stories.”

Lucy just stared at her brother, unable to comprehend his line of thinking.

“No, you know what brings Romeo and Juliet’s families together? Death and lots of it.” She pointed at Abe with intensity. “If you decide to bring this idiot to Mom or walk into Salem Bellamy’s house with a baby, that’s all you will get too. If you are really serious about ruining your life, then go anywhere but here with Roman. Go to Pleasantview. Go live out your stupid fantasy in Veronaville. Just leave before you become yet another unsolved murder here.”

Lucy stood up dramatically, dragging an open mouthed Jorah with her.

“Some of us still have school to attend.”