#when I catch you taub
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kiddbegins · 8 months ago
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Someone tell Rachel taub or whatever her last name is now that I’m free for dinner and I won’t cheat on her like her husband did :)
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konigsblog · 27 days ago
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OCTOBER 17TH — KIDNAPPER!KÖNIG. His punishments are unusually violent, leaving deep and agonising welts and lengthy scars on your skin, and crimson leaking from beneath your thighs. (NON-CON)
2024 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. (DAY 17)
NOTE: I apologise for this being a little late... (⁠T⁠T⁠)
PHOTO CREDIT: xbruised_peachx
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König can be freakishly gentle for a man of his nature and size. His touch can be caring and cautious, careful not to grip you too tightly or firmly through pure and utter excitement and cuteness aggression. Don't blame him, MÀuschen. He's head over heels for you, a newfound and intriguing interest he can't get out of his rotten and decaying mind.
Although, he can become ruthless and unforgiving when you disobey. Considering his size, it doesn't take a lot to knock you unconscious, to leave you trembling on the filthy concrete ground beneath your feet. One rough and agonising punch to your cheekbone and you're stumbling backwards dizzily, your eyes glistening and bleary before they roll to the back of your skull, a painful and horrified whimper slipping from your bruised, burst lips. Your punishments are almost always the result of your attempted escapes. It's fruitless, he'll always catch up to you, military boots brushing the frozen, crispy autumn leaves beneath his large feet, gloved fingers grasping at your biceps.
“What don't you understand, Taube?” König mutters quietly beneath his cold breath, gazing down at the limp and almost lifeless body beneath him.
Your eyes gaze into his, a lone tear coating your bruised and bloodied cheek, mixing with the crimson fluid that seeps from the gushing wound on your face. You whine out, a small and weak sob for mercy before you fall unconscious, victim to König's brutality. He doesn't enjoy punishing you, or at least that's what he tells himself, a pointless attempt at reassuring himself that he's not that immoral or cruel — just misunderstood. He grinds his pearly teeth together, the taste of tobacco still on his lips from a previous cigarette, an addiction you only worsen by stressing him out. His calloused and scarred fingertips pull at the thin underwear that barely give you a slither of dignity.
Your head rolls backwards, his hands smearing the familiar gory liquid over your face as he wipes away a tear from your eye, pressing his scarred lips to your forehead as he slowly unzips his trousers. His breathing quickens as he exposes your bare, nude body to himself, admiring the deep welts that cover your rear and the back of your marked thighs, a haunting memory of the many punishments you've endured.
Your grown out fingernails leave deep, red scratch marks along his freckled and flushed back. He wears them proudly, like some sort of achievement. Or perhaps it's to taunt you, to show you how much he's weakened you, how exhausted you are, and how helpless and defenceless you are against someone like him. How despite your attempts at fighting back, you'll never overpower him. A puppet in his hands.
“I’m just trying to protect you, Mein herz.” He repeats, a bead of sweat wandering his wrinkled forehand as he pries your soft thighs apart with his grubby hands, stained with his grotesque sins. Teeth dig into the side of your nape as he ruts himself against your swollen and drooling cunt, his breathing laborious and his wide, insane eyes fixated on your shivering form. He grunts, an animalistic growl leaving him as he greedily and selfishly forces his way inside, sparing you no mercy for your rebellion.
“You’ll learn to become my pet, Runt. Just wait.”
Your skin is littered with agonising marks and fresh wounds, all that he's inflicted. He'll blame you for it, claiming that if you just obeyed that you wouldn't be beaten and roughened up. Your misery is his enjoyment, and a lesson for you to learn.
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sunnyswide · 7 months ago
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You haven’t seen him in ages ever since he left for the military in high school.
But nothing could have prepared you for this..
“König-” You choke on your words, he was.... massive.
Konig shifted uncomfortably, standing awkwardly at the doorway of your comparatively tiny home. His Miltary Uniform and the signature sniper mask still dawned.
“Can I come in?”
“oh! Of-course” you’re awakened from your trance, his presence looming over your meek body. you stepped aside, letting him wander around your apartment, his boots making the floors creak in agony.
“You haven’t changed much” He stared at you with those damn blue eyes, eyes you haven’t forgotten..you couldn’t.
It’s been years since those last words..
—
“Don’t wait up”
“you promise.. You’ll come back?” You squeeze his hand in yours, tears threatening to slip out the corners of your eyes.
He just stares at you.. those piercing blue eyes and nods. Only a nod. A simple gesture but that’s all you needed at that time.
—
But now? He was back after years, the only friend you kept in contact with after high school and College, the only man who made you feel safe physically but also mentally. The same König that would stutter in front of the class when giving presentations, the same König who seemed tensed in social settings but with you? He’d give you the world.
You thought the feelings faded, your heartstrings cut, but having him right in front of you
 well honestly made you flustered and tense.
“You’ve changed though..uhm, König..” You look shamelessly at his body, eyes lazily wandering over his tight shirt, uncovered forearms, broad shoulders, large torso, his..
“my eyes are up here Liebling”
He straightens up, tilting his head back revealing even more of his sculpture-like body.
“I-I wasn’t looking!” you jolt, turning your head to the side.
“Anyways! Tea?”
You walk over to your kitchen counter, setting the quite adorable but inconvenient tea set to a boil. You prepare the concoction nervously, spilling a few fragments on the tray.
“Schatz” He stands up, freeing your couch from suffocation.
He walks towards you, his hand brushing over the black countertop. you back up instinctively.. still unaccustomed to his presence.
“König..”
“Kö- that’s what you used to call me. Isn’t it?” He stepped closer to you, closing the gap.
You swear you stopped breathing at this point.
His hand crept around your waist, fingers pressing against the thin fabric of your shirt.
“Ich habe dich sehr vermisst, Taube.”
“huh?!” You finally catch your breath, confused as to what spell he just conjured up.
But with no answer, he kissed you with his covered mouth, pushing rougher against you to feel your soft rosebud lips.
“mmf!” Your hands freeze, hovering on the sides of his sniper hood before gently setting them against the structure of his jawline. The kiss seemed unreal, you were ready to be awoken in bed at any time but nothing, the world kept spinning and time didn’t stop.
Breathless, you finally disconnect your hands from his face, letting the kiss escape into the past.
“I didn’t want to take off my mask..for you” he muttered, letting go of your waist.
“why?”
“Cause if you didn’t want to..I.” König began to stutter, his hands rubbing against the back of his neck. You smile, reminded of his old socially awkward self.
“dummy..” you whisper, raising your hand up to lift his mask.
“that means the first one didn’t count, we have to do it again” you coo
He looked at you dumbfounded, lips parted in slight shock. But quickly taking the initiative by hoisting you in the air. His hands on the bottom of your thighs, making your face slightly above his.
“Kö-!” You yelp, your hands safely gripping his shoulders in fear.
He tilts up, letting you lift his mask up to expose his scarred lips. Your faces are just centimeters apart. Your breath hitched, you could almost hear your own heart pounding. Worst, König also heard it. He chuckles at your innocence, amused by how such a little thing like you haven’t already had their first kiss.
“Hey..! Don’t look at me like that!” You mumble, cupping his cheek.
“Hm, liebenswert”
You close your eyes

SCEEEEEEEEEEE!
the kettle screeches making you squeal but Konig calmy looks toward the stove to turn it off.
“So ein Baby” (such a baby <3)
“did that scare you Maus?”
Oh and the first one meant “I missed you so much dove <3”
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shmaptainwrites · 7 months ago
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How do you think Wilson's so might react if they found out he did a body shot off of a stripper/hooker (chases bachelor party)💀
anon i want you to know i started writing a response and then decided, hell no this needs to be a blurb so here you go
Pairings: James Wilson x GN!Reader
Warnings: drinking, a little suggestive material
Pants and Shirts
It wasn’t often Wilson’s apartment building was loud and rowdy and you knew your boyfriend wasn’t typically the type of person to be throwing parties, so you thought nothing of it until you realized the music seemed to be coming from his unit. 
A confused frown on your face, you took out your key and unlocked the door, your eyes going wide when you saw what was going on inside. Suddenly you were making all of the connections. Wilson had told House he wouldn’t come to Chase’s bachelor party in an effort to not make a fool of himself, and what was the best way to get Wilson to a party he didn’t want to go to? Bring the party to him. 
You looked through the crowd, pushing through a few people as the music blared in the background, colourful lights shining all over the apartment, trying to catch sight of Wilson. When you couldn’t but instead saw Taub sandwiched between two very attractive looking women, you made your way over to him. 
“Hey Taub, have you seen James?” you asked. 
He didn’t say a word, simply lifting his drink and pointing in a general direction, you followed his hand and saw your boyfriend getting awfully close to one of the strippers and before you could take in the whole scene, he did a body shot off her, smiling as he took the lime from her mouth into his. 
You’d seen Wilson drunk before, but never this drunk. Your measure for this was apparently the fact that he also wasn’t wearing any pants. 
You walked over to him and when he turned around and made eye contact with you his jaw dropped and the lime fell out of his mouth and onto the floor. 
“Oh shit!” Thirteen leaned into Foreman as the pair watched the scene unfold. 
You wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t jealous, but it was a little hard to be clouded by that feeling when Wilson looked absolutely moronic and dumbfounded in front of you. It was honestly a little hard not to laugh, but you settled on saying, 
“Nice pants, honey.” 
He looked down and seemingly just noticed he wasn’t wearing anything. You shook your head and went over to him, grabbing his wrist. 
“Come on, let’s get you changed before you take off another layer.” 
You didn’t say another word, but pulled him into his room, thankful you didn’t have to kick out anyone from in there and could easily close the door behind you, muffling the sound of the music coming from outside. 
You went to his closet and looked through his shelves trying to find a good pair of pants before settling on one and tossing it over to him, watching as it hit him in the face and he had to move the fabric off him. 
“Are you mad?” he asked. 
“I mean it’s not what I was expecting to walk into when coming to spend a quiet night in with my boyfriend,” you admitted. “But it’s a bachelor party, right?” you shrugged. 
Wilson struggled to get his leg into his pants as his balance was thrown off, so you went to give him a hand. 
He could see you still weren’t particularly happy so when he was fully clothed again he told you he had an idea. 
“We’re gonna need a couple shot glasses and some vodka though,” he informed you and you looked at him skeptically, but he had that look in his eyes that said he really did have a plan so you thought you might indulge him. 
You went out, getting through the crowd and grabbing two glasses and a bottle before coming back to the bedroom. 
“What do you want to do with these?” you asked. 
He took the vodka and filled the two shot glasses. 
“You might wanna be a little drunk for this.”
You shook your head and rolled your eyes before saying what the hell and listening to your boyfriend. A few shots in you were feeling tipsy, or a little more than that, and Wilson wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a kiss. 
“You needed to get me drunk for a kiss?” you asked. “I would have done it sober,” you teased, his lips still pressed against your own. 
He sat you down on the bed and laid you down. 
“No, I figured I could maybe even out the scales a little,” he suggested. 
“By?” you pushed yourself up on your forearms. 
He grabbed the vodka and looked over at you and you began to laugh. 
“You want to take a shot off me?”
He chuckled, “I told you you might want to be a little drunk for this.” 
You told him to pass you the bottle and you took another drink before passing it back to him and pulling off your shirt, tossing it to the side and lying back down on the bed. He poured the booze into your belly button and you couldn’t help but begin to laugh.
“Hey, hold still you’re spilling,” Wilson chuckled as he leaned over top of you. 
You tried your best to hold yourself still, feeling his tongue glide over your stomach. When he had finally gotten all the booze, you tilted his chin to look up at you, bringing him closer before your lips eventually met again in a long drawn out kiss. It was drunk and messy just like the whole situation, but when he looked down at you and kissed your jaw, moving down to your collarbone mumbling against your skin, 
“I’d do body shots off you over a stripper any day,” you laughed again. 
“I think you’ve proven your point.” 
“I wouldn’t mind proving it again,” he said, pressing kisses all along your chest and stomach. 
“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” you got him to look up at you again. “But now that I’m here and you got me tipsy I might be convinced to dance very inappropriately with you in front of people.” 
“God, I love you,” he grinned and you pulled him in for one more kiss before both standing up to leave the room before Wilson quickly pulled you away from the door. “Your shirt,” he handed you your clothes and you pressed your lips together and laughed. 
You really were perfect for each other, down to the fact that the clothes you forgot to wear complimented each other and suddenly it became very easy to not feel jealous anymore.
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siriusleee · 1 year ago
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adamantine chains | part 6
"Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus." "What does that mean?" "Love is rich with both honey and venom." "I suppose that is true." Or which in König finds you broken in the mountains. A (brief) retelling of Cupid and Psyche. König | Reader tags: incredibly unprotected sexs, mdni, unprotected sex. that is a foreshadow. first chapter | previous chapter
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You think that you might still be sleeping when König pulls you closer in your sleep, fingers entangled in your shirt. You push against him just slightly enough to get room to breathe, but he doesn't let you. He pulls you up to kiss you, slow and languid. 
Your fingers sneak up under his shirt; he tastes like the sweet liquor he was drinking earlier. He rolls the two of you over, pressing you into the mattress. He pulls away, trailing his nose to your ear; he bites down ever so gently on your earlobe, tongue reaching out to trail where he just bit. His breath is warm against your skin as he whispers, quiet enough that you can barely hear. 
"Es tut mir leid, meine Liebe. Ich verdiene dich nicht."
You want to ask what he's sorry for, what he's talking about, but you can't because he's trailing down your body at the same time he pushes your shirt - his shirt really - up around your hips; his fingers catch on the edge of your underwear. You lift your hips just enough to help him, but he doesn't pull them down.
He pushes them to the side and circles your clit once with his thumb. You whine, high-pitched, and try to press yourself down closer to him; his free arm sneaks under your thigh to grab your hips and hold you down. 
He doesn't tease you long before his mouth is on you. You try to arch against him, but his hands hold you hard against the mattress. In the early morning light filtering around the blackout curtains, you can tell something is different. König holds you down tighter than he has ever before - there's a desperation in the way he touches you, the way his tongue laps at you - like a man starved. 
He doesn't pull until the mattress beneath you is wet; you can feel yourself dripping. You think, for half a second, that he's going to come up and fuck you, the way he likes to, but instead, he eases two fingers into you. You clench around him, a silent plea for him to move to do something. He stays there, fingers still inside of you until you rock your hips. Before you can tell him to stop he slips a third finger in. You've never been stretched out like this.
You keen as you rock your hips, the stretch enough to make your mind empty. König doesn't say anything, pressing a kiss to your hip bone before biting down. You can hear how wet you are, and feel yourself drip down König's wrist. König pushes your knees up to your chest and you hear him speaking, you don't know if he's talking to you or to himself.
"So schön. Und meins."
You're begging König, fingers gripping the sheets as you roll through each orgasm until you're nearly in tears. 
"König please, please-"
"Please what Taube?" König's voice is rough and low; it reverberates through you. 
You stutter, not sure what you want, just that you want and you want him.
"Tell me, Taube. Or I will not do it."
You know he's being cruel for the night before so you do what he wants, a way to say sorry for crossing his boundary. So you give in to him.
"Please come fuck me König, please."
When he moves his fingers from your cunt, you feel empty. He trails his hands up your body, pushing your shirt off of you. He bites at you: your nipple, your collar bone, your neck before he pauses. 
You can see him in the light that filters into the room; the sight of him, face wet with your slick,  the first time you've ever seen it makes you claw for him, fingernails digging into his bicep. He pushes your hands away, holding them above you in one of his hands. He traces your lips with his other.
"Open up."
He speaks in command, and you listen, opening your mouth enough for his thumb to slip in. You taste yourself on him, your tongue swirling around the tip of his thumb. When he pulls it away, he lifts the rest of his other fingers to his own mouth, to lick the taste of you off of them.
"You remember," he says, positioning himself between your thighs, and pulling your panties to the side, "how I said I was going to ruin you for everyone that tries to come after me?"
You nod, hips bucking at him, but he doesn't move.
"Answer me, Taube."
"Yes, König! I remember; please, please-"
He spreads your knees farther apart with his own; the stretch in your hips burns.
"Have I? Will you ever want anyone else?"
You're held in place by his gaze, by his words that weigh heavily on you.
"Tell me Taube. Honestly."
"Yes, König, you've ruined me for anyone, for everyone; König please!"
His free hand cups your face, tilting your head back so that he can lick a stripe up your neck before he whispers in your ear.
"I am going to fuck you Taube; do not worry. Tell me you love me."
Tell me you love me.
Your heart stutters; in all the months you've been with König, neither of you has said it. König's fingers tighten just incrementally on your neck turning you so that you're looking into his eyes.
"Tell me, Taube. Please."
His voice is desperate; his eyes dark and wild. when you say it, it's true.
"I love you König."
He slides one arm beneath your thigh, pulling it up to your chest before sinking into you. He stretches you out, and he clenches around him, fingers clawing at his back. König buries his face in your neck, biting down on your shoulder - you think for half a second that any other time it would be painful, but now it makes you wetter. 
König pushes your other knee to your chest, sliding in deeper than he's ever been before. You press your hands into his chest, slick with sweat as he slams into you at a frenetic pace. 
"You are mine, forever Taube. Do not forget it." He slams into you again, leaning down so that your knees are hooked on his shoulders; you come around him, tears in the corner of your eyes.
When König finishes, you can feel his cock pulse inside of you, and he doesn't stop fucking you until he comes twice and you are limp beneath him. You can't move when he pulls out, his long fingers pulling your underwear back into place. 
His hands, soft and warm on you, pulls the blanket over the two of you and turn you around so that your back is pressed into his chest.
"Go back to sleep Taube."
And you do.
When you wake up, König is gone. You expect for him to be in the living room, or out back, but he is gone. On the counter is folded-up piece of paper underneath a coffee cup. You pull it out and unfold it against the countertop. 
Taube,
There was an emergency at work. I will be home as soon as possible. Please help Oma with her garden since I will not be able to.
I love you,
König
Your fingers trace over his name before you crumple the letter in your hand, remember what he said the day before when you asked what he did for a living.
"I am in the Special Forces. I cannot say anything more than that, Taube. Please do not ask."
A heavy pit of worry settles in your stomach; you don't let it linger there before you push yourself away from the countertop. You take the letter and tuck it into your top dresser drawer. You try not to think about what König could be doing; was he really gone for work or did you fracture your relationship yesterday by pulling his mask up?
You get dressed slowly; you know Oma rises early and is probably sitting on the stoop and waiting on you or König to show up to help.
Your hands reach for the keys to König's car where he always puts them in a bowl beside the front door, but it's empty. The keys lay on the side of the bowl; you think that when König came home last night he must have been drunker than you thought he was if he couldn't make the bowl.
You don't bother to lock the door behind you.
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malinaa · 2 years ago
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love the idea of post s6 house amputating his leg. like yes i adore the hilson in s8 even though it makes me wanna tear my eyes out in grief but in fic obviously he COULD have a happy ending in that i think he’d only amputate his leg to get wilson to agree to chemo and he and wilson would have a fight about wilson’s choice to die with dignity (but obv paralleling the pilot where house says we can live with dignity we can’t die with it) and how wilson doesn’t want to be stuck in a chemo suite, suffering and in pain, wanting to die and then house comes in with some variation of that speech he gave taub where he’s like “i’m in pain every day, wilson. i wake up in pain, i go to work in pain and sometimes i want to give up. i’ve thought about it so many times—just ending it. i feel like i’ve been wanting to die longer than I’ve been alive but i’m still here. i’m here because
” [insert a very meaningful pause as house looks away from wilson’s eyes] “because there are a few things worth living for.” then house catches wilson’s gaze again, heavy with meaning.
and then wilson dry-swallows and says, “house
” but nothing would come out.
house says, “if you do chemo, i’ll amputate my leg.”
and wilson startles! he’ll stammer and say something like, “house, what are you—it’s your leg!”
idk if they’re standing or sitting or smth but im imagining house rubbing his thigh or tapping his cane on the ground before saying, “i don’t want to be in pain anymore.” i don’t want to die anymore, goes unsaid. but.. BUT: “but i won’t do it unless you stop being a suicidal moron.”
“that’s not fair.”
“when has life ever been fair. i’m crippled and you got cancer. just do the damn chemo.”
a beat. “okay.”
“okay? really?”
wilson laughs. “what, you didn’t think your speech would work?”
house rubs his thigh again. “i was willing to do anything to get you to agree.” ïżŒhe lets some honesty bleed into his voice. “i’m not living without you, wilson.”
“all right, house,” wilson says. “you won’t have to.”
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dontfeeltoohot · 1 year ago
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I wrote some Chase fic and it's @softsicknose 's birthday!!!
This is written in a different POV- Martha Masters' from season seven. I really love her, and I enjoyed stretching my writing comfort zone for her. I hope you enjoy!!!
XXX
Chase is late. Late, she’s found, is based solely on when House arrives (unless they’ve been given a time by Cuddy). Chase is usually always early. Early is determined by the time at least two of the team are in the diagnostics room. Out of all the times she’s walked through the glass doors and into the room in the early morning, he’s only been absent four times. All four of those times have also seen him strolling in before their boss.  The fact that she, Taub, Foreman, Doctor Hadley and even House are here and Chase isn’t is odd. Martha likes routines, likes things to stay the same and this disruption in the day to day has her feeling anxious. Her prefrontal cortex is telling her that the blonde is probably just stuck in traffic and there’s nothing to worry about, but it doesn’t stop her from fiddling with the pen she’d borrowed from the man earlier that week. 
No one else mentions that the intensivist is missing, and maybe they all know something she doesn’t? It wouldn’t be the first time- she’s becoming used to being left out of things or being cast aside as an inside joke is told. She’s never gotten the courage to ask what some of the things they say mean, because when it comes down to it she’s here to learn about medicine and science, not about Foreman’s brother or the reason Doctor Hadley was in jail. 
Seventeen minutes after they start the differential, Chase pushes through the door, looking minorly rumpled but otherwise fine- attractive as always. The realization that she’s just called the blonde attractive sinks in. Objectively, she’s aware he’s much more pleasing on the eyes than anyone else on the team; except maybe Doctor Hadley, and that statistically blonde hair and blue eyes tend to lend themselves to what the world has deemed beautiful. His accent doesn’t hurt either. 
Get it together Martha, it’s Chase. Chase, whose password is password, who sleeps with three women in one night only to forget their names. Chase, who does crosswords instead of listening to their boss. Chase, who is also an amazing intensivist and who has gotten more correct diagnosies than anyone else since she’s been here. Chase, who always looks just a little put out when House doesn’t latch on to one of his jokes or praise him when he’s found the correct answer. 
“Chase! How kind it is of you to grace us with your presence.”
The words snap the brunette out of her trance. 
As House snarks, a dark blue folder is thrown at the man who tries to catch it but fails. Instead it hits his shoulder and flops onto the table. Taub and Foreman are reading through their own copies, seemingly unbothered by the disturbance, that or they’re tired of House’s antics. Doctor Hadley is glancing up at Chase with a furrowed brow but he gives her a shrug and sits down, leather messenger bag swaying on the back of his chair. 
With how close he’s sitting, Masters can smell his cologne- something aquatic and airy, no doubt to remind him of Australia and its beaches. As the team bounces ideas off one another, she notices Chase pressing the back of his pointer finger against his right eye- closed. The structure of his jaw tells her it’s clenched, which indicates he’s either annoyed or possibly in pain. Annoyed seems much more likely. 
“What about you, Captain Kangaroo? Any ideas in that pretty head of yours? Or did the one too many drinks you had last night impair its functioning?” 
“Actually, the effects of alcohol wear off in usually six hours unless your metabolism is slow. Even then, it’s likely to be around eight or nine hours,” she offers. 
“I didn’t drink last night, and that insult was sub par,” Chase says as if he’s been waiting for some kind of accusation. “Could be a DVT that traveled to her lung.” 
Something about his voice is different today, it’s lower, maybe? She’s not sure which adjective goes best, but she watches as he swallows and his adams apple bobs unnaturally slowly. He goes to automatically grab a mug that’s not there, hand halfway outstretched before he drops it and rubs the lower half of his face. House’s eyes drag over him like a cat stalking his prey but the older man doesn’t say anything, instead he just sighs, then twirls his orange expo marker in his hand, staring at the list of symptoms on the board. 
“DVT was checked for, next.” 
As Martha wracks her brain for different causes of the new patient's afflictions, she hears rather than see’s Chase shift in his chair, then a breath being inhaled and snagging. 
“h’ihnGgkt! HnGXxt! hh-NgXTtuh!!” 
The sneezes are far quieter and less obtrusive than she’s imagined. She’s thought since starting that the blonde’s sneezes would be loud and harsh, slightly dramatic. These are small and very obviously meant to be quiet. Interesting. 
“You shouldn’t stifle like that, you can burst your eardrums from holding a sneeze in,” she comments after his last one, watching him raise his eyes from the folder, one eyebrow quirked upwards. She flushes, unsure if the comment was appropriate. She just wants to help! What if Chase blew out an ear drum from being careless? She’s simply doing a kind thing, she tells herself. 
“I’ve done it my entire life, Masters, think I’ll be alright.” 
As Foreman suggests an alternate cause, Masters nods and writes down both ideas, wanting to keep up with the details of the case, even if they turn out to be wrong. A sniffle breaks her concentration and as subtly as she can; feigning looking at the clock, she glances at the doctor next to her, noting the barely visible shadows under his eyes. Not enough sleep, then. The rest of the DDX goes as usual, with House giving them all assignments. She gets put with Taub to go break into the patient's house. 
“Do you really think this is a good idea? She can’t keep her holier-than-thou mouth shut when it comes to this type of stuff. Wouldn’t it be better for me and
anyone else goes?” 
The med student frowns and twists at her cardigan, headband feeling suddenly too tight. Her cheeks feel warm and she knows her capillaries have opened and blood has rushed to show her emotions whether she wants to or not. Foreman gives a low laugh, rolling his eyes. Chase looks like he might say something but Doctor Hadley beats him to it. 
“If you’re so worried, then do the labs and I’ll go with her.” 
Surprise drives out the embarrassment of feeling like an unwanted dog at the pound. Didn’t Doctor Hadley dislike her too? Why was she rushing to her aide? Was this another joke she was going to be the butt of? She chances a look at the older woman and sees her smiling. 
“Us girls have to stick together, right?” 
“R-Right.” 
Taub blows out a breath from his puffed cheeks and nods, saluting her. 
“Thanks, I owe you one.” 
“Alright children, play nice,” House calls from where he’s hobbling through the door to his connected office, tone indicating he doesn’t actually care what’s being said to one another. 
The car ride to the patient’s house is filled with an awkward silence. Martha’s unhappy she has to go at all, it’s unethical and illegal. No one else cares and she wonders if it’s because of House or their own morals. Her mother taught her right from wrong at a young age- what did everyone else’s mother teach them? As she watches trees go by, Doctor Hadley fiddles with the radio and then looks over when they stop at a red light. 
“So, how’re you liking it on the team so far?” 
“It’s been, uhmm
interesting? Definitely seeing more than what I’ve been exposed to in my own world. A lot of it’s for the worse,” she trails off, her last sentence barely audible, but the other woman must hear it. 
“You know, this team has been through a lot. And a lot of things have changed all of us, but when it comes down to it, we’re here to do our job and save people. If that means breaking rules, well.” A pause. “Is it better to watch someone die while keeping yourself pure or save an innocent life and do something risky?” 
For once, Martha’s unsure of the answer. Both are morally wrong- is there an answer that’s better than the other? It feels like some kind of perverse test so she crosses her arms against her chest and tries not to act like a petulant child. 
“Is that why you’re all so codependent?” The words tumble from her mouth before she can stop them. She wants to smack herself.
Doctor Hadley- Thirteen, as the boys call her for unknown reasons, laughs and a smile appears. 
“I wouldn’t say codependent. We just work well as a team. We also work well individually. Chase was first to work with House, then Foreman joined. After they left, Taub and I were hired. Foreman came back, and then Chase. We all fell into an easy team who can communicate pretty well.” 
“House likes you all. Was that, did he-“ she sighs and tries to reign all of her thoughts together. “Was he like that with everyone who’s been part of his team before? Or were there others who were treated like me?” 
“I think that that’s a question for him, even if he won’t answer it. He doesn’t hate you. If he did, you wouldn’t still be here. He obviously sees something in you that he wants to cultivate.” 
Martha isn’t sure what to say to that, so she nods and let’s the silence fall around them again. She’s never been good with small talk, and now it’s apparent she’s not good with any kind of talk. 
They get back to the hospital two hours later, when the clock is about to hit noon. The women head to diagnostics but it’s empty, so they reroute and take all of the plastic baggies full of their findings to the lab to start working. As they approach the large room, Martha notices a familiar figure sitting in the corner with his back to the door. He’s got his lab coat on now, and from what she can tell he’s got his chin leaning on his hand, posture screaming ‘I’m bored’. He must be waiting for a test to finish up. 
“Hey, why don’t you go find House or Foreman and let them know I’m about to run the tests,” Thirteen suggests, taking the large bag full of items and holding it. “Otherwise, House will bust in and scare the hell out of us.” 
Martha gets the feeling she’s being deliberately shooed away. There’s more than enough things that need to be tested for them to both be running them at the same time, but the inflection in the woman’s voice indicates a finality attached to her words. 
“Okay, uhm, I’ll let him know. You’re not going to do some crazy illegal test are you?” 
“No, I just think he should be updated,” the woman says in an almost trained voice, calmness radiating from her sudden tone. 
“Right. I can do that.” 
The brunette gets half way down the hall when she realizes she has no clue where their grumpy boss might be. Not wanting to explore the entirety of the hospital, Martha turns around and starts to walk back to ask her coworkers. When she gets close enough to see into the dimly lit room, she freezes. The two seem to be arguing. Chase is still on the stool in front of the microscope, looking up at Thirteen with a petulant, almost defiant look on his face. Feeling like interrupting might not be a good idea, she goes off in search of House, feeling more out of the loop than she has all day. 
XXX 
“Tests were negative.” 
“Same with ours.” 
Thirteen and Chase walk in; a much needed interruption to whatever the other three men on the team are talking about, to inform them of their findings. House sighs and stares at the board again, twirling his marker. Taub looks up from where he’s munching on his hospital-prepared sandwich from the cafeteria. She’s already finished her own salad, but Foreman is still working on his. They nabbed sandwiches for the other two, now sitting in the middle of the large glass table. 
As expected, Thirteen grabs hers ravenously, having not eaten for hours. Chase, however, sits and doesn’t so much as look at the last wrapped up sub, instead grabbing the folder to look at once again. Foreman and Taub look at the Australian, confusion written on their faces. 
“You’re not eating? You always eat. You eat more than me and Foreman combined,” the eldest of the four questions. 
With a frown, Chase grabs the sandwich and opens it, not breaking eye contact with the neurologist. He takes a bite and swallows, keeping his face impassive. 
“Better?” 
“Loads,” the man deadpans, rolling his eyes. 
Throughout the new round of ideas, Martha notices Chase hasn’t touched his sandwich since the initial bite. He’s procured a water bottle from his bag, sipping on it every few minutes, but the food goes untouched and unnoticed by everyone else. She thinks she sees House’s eyes sweep over the intensivist, but she might be imagining things- House may play favorites but the idea of him caring about someone to a degree of worry seems improbable. 
Foreman gets up to throw his trash away, prompting Thirteen to as well. As they talk about even more possibilities for the patient, Chase angles his face towards his chest, ducking his face downwards. 
“ihNGkKt! h’GXKt! h’KGkTSCH’uh! SNF!” 
The first two are quiet enough that if Martha wasn’t paying attention she doesn’t think she would have necessarily heard them. The third however is stronger and Martha cringes inwardly at not only the amount of force he’s used to try and hold it in, but also at the soupy sounding sniffle after. He gets up immediately, striding across the room to the kitchenette and plucks a tissue from the box they have sitting there. She notices he doesn’t blow, merely just wipes at his nose before pocketing the tissue and washing his hands. At least he’s hygienic.
“Bless you,” Taub throws over his shoulder casually. 
Martha watches as the blonde ignores him, moving to snatch the 90% uneaten sandwich up instead and set it in the mini fridge to finish later. The medical student has the urge to throw out yet another statistic about the act of sternation but is interrupted by all six of their pagers going off- saved by the bell. 
The rest of the day is a haze of the patient crashing, adrenaline, House getting angry for not being able to figure out what’s wrong, and everyone else picking up his energy. House is the determining factor of a lot more than she’s realized, as Foreman snaps back at their boss when he starts telling them they’re all morons. He goes as far as to insult not only Chase, but Thirteen, which Martha hasn’t witnessed yet.  
“House, we’re trying. We can’t think any faster,” the dark skinned man frowns. 
“Oh yeah? I bet I could make you think faster if you want to keep your job!” 
“You’re not going to fire any of us,” Chase drawls from where he’s sitting, having moved from the uncomfortable metal chairs at the table to the slightly less uncomfortable chairs in the corner of the room. 
“Wanna bet? You of all people should know I can and I will,” the older man sneers, moving closer to the blonde. 
Martha has an odd feeling in her stomach, something between anxiety, anticipation and most of all, surprise. Does House mean he’s fired Chase before? Surely not, not when they’re so obviously the most in-sync out of everyone. For a split second the intensivist looks like he’s going to stand up and go at it with their boss but instead he just shrugs and presses the tips of his fingers to closed eyelids. 
“Exactly. Now think.” 
Finally, Thirteen comes up with a semi-plausible idea, and though House makes it known he doesn’t truly believe it, they’re ordered to go in and check the man’s mitral valve. Doing something is better than nothing, Martha agrees. 
“Chase, scrub up and take Taub and Ms. Goody-two-shoes with you.” 
“Can’t we have Masters do-“ 
“Absolutely not. This isn’t time for a learning experience, this is time to cut open this guy and fix him so he lives. She helps, you do.” 
A grumble of incomprehensible words are drowned out by Taub getting up out of his chair and patting her shoulder, leaning his head towards the door as a gesture to tell her to follow. She does, not wanting to deal with any more childish back and forth arguing. As they all head down the hallway, Masters looks at Taub for direction. She doesn’t understand why Chase is upset she’s not doing it- usually it’s the other way around. 
As the three slip into the empty elevator, Chase uses the inside of his wrist to scrub at his nose, sniffling yet again. Normally Martha wouldn’t notice these things, but he was late, so now all her attention is solely on him. It’s definitely not because he’s gorgeous or funny or the only to even remotely build her up sometimes. 
“So why don’t you wanna do the surgery?” Taub asks, turning to the taller man. 
“Because it’s cold in the OR and I’m already freezing,” Chase grumps, pulling his lab coat tighter. “Scrubs can only keep you so warm.” 
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all-pacas · 14 days ago
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aside from his malpractice blunders being the most public, do you think the fact that foreman is quick to call out other’s unethical behaviors/complain about the team doing malpractice when he was literally assistant manager of the malpractice department contributes to his reputation of being a bit fake or disingenuous?
That's actually an interesting point! Foreman definitely
 one of my favorite jokes at his expense is in Two Stories, when we see him through House's point of view:
Masters : We need to get a chest C.T. Foreman : Excuse me, I'm the senior team member, which means we don't need anything unless I say we need it. [
] Foreman : We need a chest C.T.
Which is a joke, obviously. But, you know. Foreman is ambitious, but he always wants the credit. He is dismissive and petty and always thinks he's right (just like House!). We see repeatedly (Histories, Deception, House Training) that when he doesn't like a patient he dismisses all their symptoms and tries to push them out the door. He's not at all good at pretending he cares when he doesn't. (And hilariously complains that Chase is too good at pretending to care when he doesn't.) But when it's something he believes in or cares about, he goes completely the opposite direction: he ruins the Huntington's trial for, as Thirteen points out, someone he's dated for two weeks. He steals bone marrow to save a life.
He's
 kind of a pure example of a hypocrite. He complains about Cameron being biased and unethical, and then breaks laws for the people he cares about. He complains about Chase not liking patients, and even Cameron describes his bedside manner as bad. He is the first team member in the series to tattle to Cuddy, but he thinks Chase is a huge rat. He wants to be in charge, and consistently kind of struggles with being a good boss, earning respect, getting people to listen to him. He clings to the idea of being Senior Fellow, uses it as an excuse to tell people what to do, is pretty consistently open with how little he respects Cameron and Chase
 and then gets mad at them in S2 when they have no interest in listening to him when he's in charge.
(Tangent: this is why Taubman is so good. Because Taub genuinely doesn't give a shit. He's not threatened by Foreman. Foreman can't boss him around unless Taub lets him.)
Another of my favorite little exchanges is in Deception, the first episode Foreman is in charge of the team post-The Mistake:
FOREMAN: And I expect you [House] here for grand rounds at nine. By the way, I like sugar in my coffee. [He's grinning. Joking but enjoying himself.] CUDDY: [To Foreman, sharply] If there’s a screw-up, it’s your screw-up. You won’t have Dr. House to fall back on. [Foreman's face falls.]
He wants the power. He wants the responsibility. He loves the idea of House having to do what he says. And the idea of actually having to deal with consequences of messing up scares him. He gets so into the idea of fucking with House that he loses sight of the actual job. And through the S2 Foreman arc, he
 is cautious. He stops coming up with ideas, he struggles mightily with getting Cameron and Chase to do anything he wants, he doesn't really do much. He wants so badly to be in charge, to be important, and then he drops the ball when he has it.
I think this is all pretty obvious from the outside! It turns into a joke, that's how obvious it is. Foreman struts into a room (Kids has another great example) assuming he has all the power and authority in the world, and then goes blank when no one listens. He's constantly pushing to be in charge and struggles when he gets it. And it goes into a whole other thing.
Foreman has massive imposter syndrome. He has incredible issues with his worth and sense of belonging and struggles to connect with people and be vulnerable. He doesn't think he belongs, he thinks at any minute people will notice and catch on and throw him out. He's the poor Black kid from a bad neighborhood and no one lets him forget it. He doesn't let himself forget it. He's always trying so damn hard to prove himself, to be the best in the room, that he ends up coming off as wildly hypocritical: he puts down others to make himself look good, he pushes to be best but has no end goal, no win state, no moment that he does feel like he belongs. He doesn't want to be like House, correctly identifying that House is miserable. But he admires House. But in other ways, he wishes he could be like House. House doesn't give a shit what people think of him. Foreman spends every day looking over his shoulder.
#malpractice posting#eric foreman#related i think this is why i enjoy foreman and chase's frenemies thing so much#like god chase is everything foreman hates about himself and about others#he's the super privileged rich white kid who gets everything he wants. who is oozing with talent. who never has to try#and is so much better at pretending to care and like people than foreman is#(no wonder that specifically is what foreman complains about)#foreman complains that chase is fake. that he's petty. that he's screwed up and driven by revenge. that he's a rat. that he's pathetic.#that he's superficial and fake and a liar and an ass-kisser and doesn't care about anyone or anything. doesn't care about the job.#and it's not like he's completely wrong about chase but he also misses a lot. he just consistently dismisses and demeans chase#in finding judas foreman is still going on about chase's rich dad doing whatever chase wants. despite ALL EVIDENCE#in mirror mirror foreman assumes chase is running the betting pool because he's jealous of foreman. despite ALL EVIDENCE#but chase is also the perfect person for foreman TO hate because chase actually IS good at faking shit.#chase DOESN'T care about proving himself to anyone. he doesn't care what people think of him#and that's so foreign and terrifying to foreman#also chase is a petty little bitch who is very good at poking foreman right where it hurts when he wants to#(which is also terrifying. foreman's being Perceived)#anyway i love their distaste for one another SIGH
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my-head-is-an-animal · 1 year ago
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Problems With The Heart
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Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)
Story Masterlist
Chapter 19 - Gun Point
Thirteen was a little nervous when Dr Harding walked through the door, handing over a case file.
‘Sixteen year old factory worker,’ she said, barely even looking at anyone, including House. It was evident a discussion had taken place. ‘Came in with heart problems, we’ve ruled out all the usual things and now she’s your problem. Questions?’ Taub went to ask something, but she didn’t let him get that far. ‘Good, have fun.’
Harding left the office and House looked a little hurt. Thirteen looked around for answers before House refocused and got on with the case at hand.
‘Is Dr Harding okay?’ Thirteen asked.
‘She’s fine.’ House said and moved on.
Cuddy went up to cardiology. It was a slow day, Anna was catching up on paperwork and looking to get some clinic hours in that day.
‘She needs an echo,’ Anna told a student doctor. ‘Get Dr Wright to give you a hand and come back when you have the results.’ She smiled kindly, but the slight rub on her shoulder was unmistakable.
‘Anna?’ Cuddy kept a little distance between them.
‘Cuddy, you okay?’ She frowned.
‘You spoken to House recently?’ She asked. Anna’s piercing eyes scanned her very quickly.
‘Should I have?’ She frowned and smirked at the same time, it was a warning expression and Cuddy feared it. ‘What’s going on?’
‘How’s your shoulder?’
Anna breathed in deeply. ‘He told you.’ She concluded. ‘I think Hadley told him, she walked in when I was administering the morphine.’
‘You did it alone?’ Cuddy exclaimed, quietly.
‘We know her schedule.’ One of the nurses Cuddy wasn’t familiar with spoke. ‘We check in three minutes after she’s injected herself, keep an eye on her vitals every half hour.’ She assured her.
Anna gave a gentle smile. ‘I do it here when I can because if something goes wrong, I’m surrounded by a team I can trust.’
Cuddy conceded and nodded, she was right, this was the best place for her to be. Anna went to walk back to her office.
‘Wait
’ Cuddy stopped her. Anna just frowned.
‘What is it? Something wrong?’
Cuddy was losing her courage. ‘You need to talk to House, when you have, come find me.’
Anna frowned again, but Cuddy couldn’t stand looking at her anymore. She left cardiology and went back to her office.
House didn’t talk to Anna for a week, he didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
Before he knew it, there was a crowd of sick people being held up at gun point, being ushered into Cuddy’s office, including Thirteen and Anna, who he could see was sweating and starting to panic.
All the guy wanted was to be diagnosed, House went about it as quickly as possible trying to stay calm.
‘Anna, try to relax.’ House said, but she was still sweating.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ One of the hostages asked.
‘Severe PTSD.’ House watched her. ‘She’s going to have an episode and you might not want that if it’s the wrong type.’ He came around the desk to take her heart rate. ‘Anna, do you know where you are?’
‘Greg, I’m fine.’ She insisted. ‘I’m not hallucinating, I’m conscious, I’m just in pain.’
‘You didn’t take your morphine.’
‘I needed Cuddy to give me more, I’ve run out, that and anti-inflammatories.’
House knew she was in a bad way. ‘Just breathe, deep and steady.’
He negotiated where he could and Cuddy was smart in handing him the sedative, but it was the gunshot that set Anna’s heart racing and her hallucinations were about to take hold.
‘Anna.’ House was on the floor with her. ‘Did you forget the bit about severe PTSD?’ He yelled, he manoeuvred her into safer position while the nurse took care of the hostage who got shot in the knee. ‘Anna, where are you? Tell me where you are.’
‘I’ve been shot,’ she said. ‘You have to press on the wound, reduce the blood loss. Everything’s going to be fine, I’m going to get you home to your family. You’re going to be fine.’ She kept repeating it.
‘She thinks she’s been shot.’ House told Thirteen. ‘She’ll be okay, just try and get her back to the present. She thinks she’s in Afghanistan, don’t let her get up, she might shift between hallucinations.’
The gunman was getting freaked out by Anna’s hallucinations, she was convulsing and twitching.
‘Next time, she gets to leave.’ The gunman said.
‘She can’t move until the episode is over or she can at least recognise that it’s a delusion.’ House told him. ‘And trust me, this is the better of her episodes.’
‘You’ve done this before?’ Thirteen asked.
House shrugged, exasperated. ‘She had one in her sleep once, took me three hours to get her calm down.’
‘She’s important to you.’ The gunman realised.
‘She’s more important to me than anyone in this room.’ House confessed, but somehow that only seemed to make her more of a target.
Every step of the way House made moves to protect Anna, he didn’t want anyone to die, but she couldn’t for so many reasons. They agreed on lung cancer and Thirteen was already weak and Anna was only just coming back to reality.
‘House, she still thinks she’s been shot.’ The nurse said, having gotten her to sit against Cuddy’s desk.
House got on his knees in front of Anna, motioning for the nurse to move away. ‘Anna, do you recognise me?’
Her face was soaked with sweat, her arm was limp and she was clutching her shoulder. ‘Greg.’ She breathed.
‘That’s right,’ he checked her heart rate, it was racing. ‘I hope your high heart rate is because I’m so close to you.’ She seemed able to recognise him a little, but he needed something to root her in the moment. ‘I have to tell you something that’s going to make you hate me.’
‘I couldn’t hate you.’ She wheezed. ‘I’m in love with you.’ Her eyes were still scanning the room, like she was anticipating something that wasn’t there.
‘I know.’ He took a moment to build up his courage. ‘I kissed Cuddy.’ He said and watched her eyes starting to refocus. ‘It was a couple of weeks ago when she lost the kid. I was angry because you didn’t tell me about your shoulder and I went to her house to see if she was okay
 and we kissed.’ Her blue eyes looked hurt and were filling with a sadness that he couldn’t bear. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Before she could say anything, the gunman started rushing them to get to radiology to see if he had lung cancer. Anna was still in pain from her shoulder, her legs were weak, but she was present enough to be useful.
Thirteen was a different story.
‘Will she be okay?’ Thirteen asked as her kidneys began shutting down. Anna was sitting on the floor, still sweating, still in pain, but she was conscious and that was better than he expected.
‘Your kidneys are shutting down and you’re asking if she’s okay?’ House mocked.
‘She’s upset, you should see if she’s okay.’
‘The last thing she needs is me.’ House said, miserably.
‘I thought you were important to him.’ The gunman addressed Anna, who barely acknowledged him.
‘Leave her alone.’ House warned. ‘She’s present, but the episode isn’t over, she could slip away at any moment.’
‘What happens if she does?’ Thirteen asked, watching Anna closely.
‘Then we pray she thinks she’s been shot again.’ House checked Thirteen’s heart rate again.
‘Why?’ The gunman asked.
‘Because the alternative is a little less sedentary.’ Anna spoke. House went to check her eyes what vitals he could. ‘That was the episode, wasn’t it? That was the one, when you were at my flat, I tried to get you out because I thought we’d been surrounded by the enemy, I had to keep him quiet. I don’t know why he didn’t just stay quiet.’ She began panicking and slipping away.
‘Shh, shh, it’s okay.’ House spoke calmly and quietly. ‘You did what you thought was right, you saved his life, you were in a difficult position, but you saved his life. He got to go home to his family, hug his kid again, because of you.’
Her eyes were focusing again and she was present once again.
‘Anna, I need you to stay focused for me, it’s my turn to save you.’ He told her, feeling her pulse slow down. ‘When we get out of here, we’re going to get your surgery, check you into a sleep clinic and we’re going to fix this.’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You don’t get to make that choice anymore, Greg.’
House understood, he hated it, but he understood. He nodded and got on with the task at hand. The gunman wouldn’t let House stay, he wanted to trade him for the cure. Anna was still floating between past and present and was harmless, Thirteen could administer the drug, but he didn’t want to leave either of them.
Eventually he was left no choice. House turned to Anna who was silently screaming in pain from her shoulder. What he didn’t count on was the back of radiology being blown out as the swat team got into the room. He rushed back in to see Thirteen lying on the floor, she didn’t take the drug and would be fine.
Anna was laying the the side, clutching her heart and breathing heavily.
‘Anna, where are you?’ House demanded as nurses and doctors came rushing in to help. ‘Anna, look at me.’ He said again and her piercing blue eyes just stared up at the ceiling, like she was staring at the sky.
‘I did my job.’ She whispered. ‘I did everything I could. I’m not scared anymore. I’m not scared of dying.’
‘You’re not going to die,’ House reassured her, helping to get her onto the second crash cart after Thirteen was taken out. ‘You’re going to live.’ Cuddy was right beside him. ‘Anna, are you with me? You’re going to live.’ He suddenly had a brain wave and stopped the team from leaving to attend to her. ‘Major Harding, you are going to live, we’re going to get you home safe and sound. Your team survived thanks to you. Do you understand me?’
Her eyes found his for a moment. ‘Yes, sir. I understand.’
‘Don’t you dare give up now.’ He told her as she was wheeled away.
Cuddy was left standing next to him. ‘What happened to her?’
‘Pain. Gunshot. Truth. And an exploding wall.’ House listed.
‘You’d better stay with her, she’ll need the company when she wakes up.’
House turned to face her and shrugged. ‘She’s got other friends, tell one of them to stay.’
‘House.’ Cuddy said firmly, but he was already limping away to gather his things.
If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!
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travelbasscase · 4 months ago
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okay i'm sorry i downloaded this game and it is. so insane
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IDs: (top) Dr. House is speaking to the patient, a white man in his seventies with a grey mustache who is reclining in a hospital bed. House says "While you were in Malaysia, did you perhaps catch any of those trendy exotic diseases the kids are all talking about?" (middle row, left) House, looking devious while standing in his patient's hospital room, tells a man off-screen (who was trying to take photos of the patient because the patient is famous for his television show) "Hey, who cares if Henry Richter's a gay, Taliban-supporting, witchcraft-endorsing meth addict? Not me!" (middle row, right) Taub, Thirteen, and Foreman are sitting at a table in the conference room. There's something a bit bizarre going on with each of their faces, particularly Foreman's. (bottom, left) Foreman is chatting with the patient. Both Foreman and the patient have strange expressions, with the patient laughing maniacally and Foreman standing with his arms crossed and his eyes half-shut for some reason. (bottom, right) Pictured is Chase's face, very close to the camera. He is smiling slightly with his top teeth showing and his eyes wide. He is asking "Wait. Before we go any further, can I just say, I grew up watching your show. Caught it every day." He looks like the sort of crazed fan that celebrities complain about in interviews. End ID.
the graphics make this look even better. i'm not sure why foreman is making that face, but he is, and i wish he weren't. chase looks like he might sneak into your house and kill you, and YES, they DID make him uncomfortably close to your face. i did not crop that. the game devs wanted you to have a face full of chase.
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IDs: (left) Wilson in his office, saying "Okay, great job. But wipe that confident smirk off your face." (right) Wilson standing in a hallway, holding a blank piece of paper, looking suspiciously at the camera. His expression is that of a police detective who suspects that someone is a criminal, but doesn't have all the evidence yet. End ID.
as previously stated in another post about this game by someone else, if you do well, wilson tries to take you down a peg. he also offers consults, but afaik there is no way to get wilson to help on anything. he shows up when he shows up.
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ID: House's face against a reddish-wood backdrop, seen from a tilted angle that covers half of his face in shadow. He is doing a Kubrick stare. End ID.
why does he look so evil? idk
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IDs: (top, left) House and Chase are with the patient. House is staring off into the distance. Chase is doing something with the patient's IV. The patient has a very wide smile on his face. (top, right) The patient's blood pressure has risen. He is clearly distressed, clutching his chest. House and Chase are leaning over him, with Chase grabbing the patient's wrist. Chase's face is strange, and his hair looks like limp spaghetti. (middle) House is in the foreground, pensively gazing up and away into the distance. Foreman and the patient are in the background. Foreman looks deeply confused. The patient is screaming while staring at House. (bottom, left) The patient is pictured gesticulating wildly with his hands outstretched in front of him. He is yelling "I was never in Malaysia! I made the whole thing up! I haven't been out of the US in years!" His face is flushed red and he looks frantic. (bottom, right) Thirteen and Taub are sitting in front of House's desk. Thirteen is making a blank expression. Taub is looking accusatory. Chase is standing in the background, crossing his arms and gazing intently towards the camera. His neck looks disproportionately tiny. End IDs.
the faces here are truly wonderful. and by wonderful, i of course mean horrifying. especially chase's face. if you see chase in this game, he will be looking weird. also, they gave him his post-divorce permastubble, but he isn't divorced yet in the game.
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IDs: (left) Cameron and Chase are sitting at microscope stations in a lab. Chase looks exhausted. Cameron is complaining, saying "I feel like a trained puppy! Why do we just drop everything whenever House calls us?" (right) Cameron and Chase are still at the microscopes. Cameron is slightly smiling and gazing at Chase. Chase is looking frustrated and saying sarcastically "That I want to save Henry because he was a childhood hero of mine, and thus he represents a father figure to me, one who fills in the gap left by my deceased real father". This is in response to Cameron questioning why Chase cares so much about saving House's patient (not pictured). End IDs.
yes, they do crack jokes about chase's daddy issues.
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IDs: (left) A female chef in the center is yelling her employee standing to the right. She is saying "Listen, you moronic, sub-human cretin! I'm running a very tight ship here, and when I tell you to bring me my lunch at 1:00, I don't mean 1:05! Got that?" A woman to the left of the yelling woman is standing with her arms akimbo and a blank expression on her face. The man being yelled at is making an awestruck expression and holding his arms bent in front of his chest, reminiscent of someone dancing at a nightclub. All of them are wearing chef uniforms- white shirts with two rows of buttons and floppy hats. (right) The yelling woman in the previous image is sitting in a hospital bed. She is no longer wearing a chef uniform, and her skin is now completely blue. She is yelling and pointing at House, who is somewhere out of view, saying "Okay, Dr. Gimpy, let's set some ground rules. You are not going to talk to me like that!" End IDs.
the expressions here are wonderful. this woman seems pleasant (not).
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ID: House is seeing a clinic patient. The patient has his back to the camera. Across from him is the patient's wife, a standing woman wearing jeans and a plaid flannel, with long curly hair and brightly-colored makeup, House, making a dumbfounded face, and a small child with his hands clasped together and a smirking expression. End ID.
the wife is dressed like the 1980s crossed with joey tribbiani's sisters. the infant looks like he's plotting something.
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ID: Cameron and Taub are in a patient's apartment. It is a mess, with clothes, garbage, and boxes of food strewn about everywhere. Taub is standing with his hands on his hips. Cameron looks completely different from how she normally looks in the show, and is saying (referring to Chase) "After we make microwave popcorn, the guy tears open the empty bag and licks it." End ID.
eventually, cameron ceases to look anything like the cameron in the show, and has become a completely different blonde woman. also, apparently chase licks popcorn bags. this is information that i did not need, but am not surprised by.
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ID: A brooding Thirteen and an exhausted-looking Foreman are in the lab. Thirteen asks "Would you still love me if I suddenly turned blue?" End ID.
thirteen asking the real questions. she is a woman before her time. she would have loved the "would you still love me if i were a worm" trend.
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IDs: (top) House, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and white plastic party glasses while holding a red Solo cup, stands in front of an empty whiteboard discussing the new case, a frat boy who developed paralysis while locked in a coffin during an initiation ritual who was also found to be wearing women's lingerie. (bottom) Taub, Thirteen, and Foreman all take sips out of their red solo cups as House mentions the patient's lingerie, as part of a drinking game. They all look vaguely disapproving. End ID.
this could have happened in the show, and i wouldn't be surprised at all.
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ID: Cuddy is up close to the camera, standing in House's apartment, looking horrified. House, clad only in a towel wrapped around his waist, is behind her, asking "See anything you like?" End ID.
cuddy breaks into house's condo and sees something she didn't want to see (house in a towel). also, why is he tying his towel around his waist like that? does anyone actually make a knot? you just wrap it and tuck it so it doesn't fall down.
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ID: Cameron and Chase stand next to the frat boy patient's bed. Cameron does not look anything like how she does in the show, and is stiffly holding a piece of paper. Chase is looking down at the patient with his mouth slightly open for no apparent reason. The patient, a young blond muscular white man, is seated in the bed, smiling, with an IV in his hand. End ID.
ignoring the patient, cameron looks like someone who would tell you the weather on fox news.
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ID: A frustrated-looking Cuddy has her eyes closed, her mouth open, and her hand raised near her head. House is standing behind her, pursing his lips. He is sticking his hips out, and has unzipped his fly. He is making a sexual comment to Cuddy. Behind the glass walls of the room, a man looks at the scene. End ID.
putting aside the chaos of this screenshot, why is there a tan man in the background with martin sheen-style hair staring through house's window, creepily?
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IDs: (top, left) A clinic patient's wife is hitting him on the head with her purse. She is looking enraged. He is attempting to block the blow by raising his hands over his head, as if to shield it. (top, right) Taub, Thirteen, and Foreman are seated in the conference room. House is standing next to the table, blowing air into a male blowup doll wearing women's lingerie with a wig on its head. The others look as if they are mildly annoyed with his antics. (bottom) House stands proudly gazing at his now-inflated blowup doll. End IDs.
and these are just too good not to share.
is this a good game? no, it isn't. would i recommend it to anyone? no, i wouldn't. it's super irritating having to do annoying minigames constantly, and some parts of it are a bit glitchy.
is it also wonderful, purely because of how terrible it is? YES.
Is this anything
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462 notes · View notes
siriusleee · 1 year ago
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adamantine chains | part 11 - finale
"Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus." "What does that mean?" "Love is rich with both honey and venom." "I suppose that is true." Or which in König finds you broken in the mountains. König | F!Reader a/n: if you like this, and you can, consider donating on my ko-fi or commissioning a custom fic. We'll we're finished. I know I'm the worst at replying to comments, but I want every to know who has - you've really kept me going with this.
find the rest of the chapters on my masterlist
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König agrees to your suggestion of a hike. He zips you into your jacket, protection from the snow that threatens to flurry on the mountain. His hands tease against you, tickling the sensitive skin beneath your ears until you twist away from him. 
"There's a trail near here," he says, nearly lifting you off your feet as he straightens the shoulders of your jacket. "It's a fifteen minute drive. I've got sandwiches made - do you need anything else?"
"No, I'm good."
Camera around your neck, you follow him out of the house. You make sure to leave your phone in the bedroom, tucked beneath your pillow. You'll check the doctor's voicemail when you get home; you don't want to spend today worrying after all the time König has been gone. 
The wind has shifted through the night, pouring down colder from the mountains - the heater in the car doesn't do enough to warm you up in the short drive it takes for you and König to make it to the trail head: a small cut out in the trees that line the road that winds into the mountains. You try to take the backpack of lunch, but König takes it from you before you get the chance to get it on your back.
"Watch your step, Taube; the trees here have a habit of reaching out and grabbing you."
His voice is light, but the image doesn't make you giggle like it usually would. 
König sets the pace, slowing down for you when he realizes that your legs could never keep up with him. Every so often the two of you stop so that you can take a picture, you try to capture the way König walks ahead of you - like he's spent his entire life prowling these woods and he's finally back home. 
"The first time I saw you here," König says, walking just slightly in front of you, "I thought you were dead. You were so still, and so blue that I didn't even realize you were breathing."
A stitch is building in your side, and it tugs on your lungs when you speak.
"What made you save me?"
König pauses without looking back at you. When you catch up to him, he looks down at you, the mask he usually wears outside of the house hiding his expression. 
"You were so beautiful. So still and quiet. I would have never been able to live with myself if I left you there."
You wind your fingers in with his, breaking the gaze between the two of you as you speak, pulling König forward. 
"I thought I was dying," you start, rubbing circles on the back of König's hand, "I was praying that I would die quickly. Everything was going so slow. I thought - I thought you were the wind picking up and carrying me down the mountain, you were so soft."
König's hand squeezes yours painfully, and you know he's back there with you, remember the walk down the mountain with you in his arms. 
"I was so scared of you when I woke up," you continue, not pulling away from König even though the feeling of him squeezing your hand is starting to hurt, "I thought you were some monster come down to get me. I dreamed of my grandfather; he was telling me to run. And when I woke up, I thought you were who he was warning me about."
The two of you crest a fallen tree, König lifting you up so that you can scuttle across. 
"Oma told me I was a fool to keep you here. I have connections in the United States - I could have sent you home any time you wanted. But I wanted you to stay with me."
It's a confession; König says it in a whisper, refusing to look down at you. You grip his hand tighter as the two of you turn a curve in the trail, the trees dropped away from the side of you guys to show a view of the mountain - the village just a speck in the distance. 
"I know. But I never asked you to either."
"I laid in bed with you," König's voice is basically a whisper through his mask as the two of you press on, following the faded signs promising a stop to rest, "you were so cold. Oma and I couldn't warm you. We tried everything. But you were screaming in your sleep, and you didn't stop until I got in with you."
You know he's waiting for you to recoil, to pull away at the confession that he crawled into bed with you when you were still just a stranger to him. Instead you pull him towards you, feet catching on one of the roots emerging from the ground below. 
The snow starts to fall when the two of you pause on the switchback, a fallen log where you take your rest. König hands you your sandwich, as you watch the snow melt the moment it hits the ground. 
You eat slowly, trying to figure out a way to capture the way the snow hits the ground for half a second on camera. König wanders towards the trail edge, peering down the sharp face of the mountain at the jagged rocks below. 
So when hot hands grab you, you scream, camera smashed beneath your feet as you try to struggle away. Before König can get back to you, there's a knife under your jaw and the feeling of familiar hands around you. 
König finds you pressed tightly against Marcus and freezes, hands half raised in a defensive position. They stare at each other over your shoulder before Marcus pulls the knife closer towards you.
"Take your mask off. I want to see your face."
König, so slow you're almost not sure he moves at first, peels the mask off, blonde hair stuck sweaty to his forehead. You can see his pulse jump at his throat, but he looks like he does this every day.
The knife is cold against the soft bite of your underjaw. It bites into you; you can feel your blood warm as it runs down your neck and onto your chest. He still smells the same as he always has. Mint and cognac - a bitter that you'd never gotten used to. 
"It's been a long time, I'm surprised you're still here with him."
You claw at Marcus' arm, trying to pull him away. Trying to get a better purchase against the wet ground.
"Marcus what are you doing here?"
"He didn't tell you, did he?" He growls in your ear, eyes still trained on König. He jerks your hair back, forcing you to make eye contact with König across the trail. "What he really does for a living. That's why you're still here, why you haven't left yet."
A low growl emits from König, and you realize with a second sharp cut of the knife beneath your chin, that he's been the wolf stalking your dreams. He has been the warning you were supposed to heed. 
"I bet he told you he was in the Special Forces? Right?"
Marcus shakes you when you don't answer fast enough, and König lurches forward, only stopping when Marcus digs the point of the knife into your throat. A warning to stop, to stay frozen. 
"Answer me."
"Yes! That's what he told me!"
Marcus laughs mirthlessly in your ear, the hand that's not holding the knife wrapped around your stomach, pulling you closer to his body. You can feel his heartbeat through his chest, and his breath - spearmint like always - washes over your face and turns your stomach.
"He's a fucking liar," Marcus growls. "He's a fucking mercenary. All those times he's been gone away from you he's been out killing people. How else do you think he can afford to take care of you? You fucking leech."
"Marcus please-"
"He's the one who tried to kill me."
At his words, König stiffens, hands curled into claws by his side. The only thing marking him from a statue is the shallow rise and fall of his chest. But König doesn't make a move to say anything against him. His lip curls, teeth digging into his lip.
"He was supposed to kill me. He came after me because of my job. Can you believe that? You've been fucking the man who tried to kill me. He was so busy trying to save you that he didn't realize he left me alive. Tell her!"
"Taube, listen to me-"
"Don't you fucking - you don't have the right to call my wife anything other than her name." 
With every word Marcus speaks, he digs the knife in deeper. You clench your jaw together so tight you feel the ache in your teeth, trying to bite back the scream growing in you.
"You're wife?" König's voice is low, dangerous, and teasing. "She never seemed very sad that you were gone. She never seemed like your wife when she was in my house - in my bed."
"She's mine - you've done nothing but defile her."
"Nein. She doesn't belong to anyone, not like you want her to belong to you. But know - when we make it down this mountain, she'll be my wife. Have my last name."
The knife beneath your jaw loosens for a half a second before digging in again; you can feel it dig into your jawbone. This time you scream, biting it off halfway when Marcus jerks you. König circles the two of you, mask discarded in the dirt beneath him. He doesn't look at you.
"Did she tell you?" 
Marcus' voice is razor thin, and you know he knows. Knows about the doctor's appointment, about the phone call you've been trying to avoid. Whatever he'd been looking for in the house, he'd found a different sort of secret.
"Marcus - please." 
Your blood feels frozen against the front of your jacket.
"She's pregnant, you know. Your bastard child." 
König doesn't move, but his eyes betray him. Marcus picks up on the way König's eyes open just a millimeter wider, and keeps the taunt with glee. 
"Oh she didn't tell you? I'm not shocked - she's probably scared of you. I saw them all, all the pregnancy tests in the trash when I broke in. Do you know what she used to tell me when I mentioned kids? She would laugh at me - tell me she never wanted to have kids."
Marcus is winding up; his hands shake so bad that you feel the knife cut nicks into the bone. The pain is sharp enough to make you want to pass out, but you keep your feet under you to the best of your ability. König's lips twitch up, his incisor digging into his bottom lip. You can see his thoughts behind his eyes - know he is measuring what to say next.
"Of course I knew; when I fucked that baby into her we laughed about how you never could."
That does it; Marcus' hand jerks down, cutting you from your jaw to your collarbone. You hit the ground hard, vision white at the pain. But you keep your eyes König, trying to keep your focus from shifting into black.
The moment Marcus' hands leave you, König springs on him. You had imagined what he did when he was away, but there was no amount of imagination that could have prepared you to watch him tear Marcus apart. 
He is the wolf your grandfather warned you about - all gnashing teeth and curved claws. The two of them tear at each other, but König is feral. He fights Marcus with everything in him; through the tears in your eyes you wonder why Marcus even tried; there is not a moment where König isn't ripping into him. The knife that had been beneath your jaw flashes, and you hear König grunt. You worry that it had found its mark, buried itself inside him, but the next moment it's flung into the woods. 
It could have been hours your blood mixed with the dirt and new snow or minutes in the time it took König to destroy Marcus; the only think you know as you watch Marcus' limp body thrash around is that König had already killed him, and the anger kept him going. 
When he finally lifts off of Marcus' limp body, the blood runs down his face, pours from his mouth. But you know it is not just his. It's viscous and heavy against his pale skin, leaving crimson trails as it drips down. 
You've never seen that look in his eye before - the sharp flint that strikes against the gentleness he normally has inside of him. The adrenaline inside you doesn't differentiate between touches; ears still ringing with the sounds of König's growls and Marcus' screams as he was being torn apart. 
So when he reaches out to you, you flinch back, hand scraping against the rocks beneath you. Something wild inside of you screams that he is the predator to run from; that the blood pouring from your jaw and chest are from him. König doesn't flinch back, just crouches down before you, wiping away the blood from his mouth casually. 
"You are going to pass out Taube if you don't let me stop the bleeding."
You can't speak around the pain, around the shaking and the shivering. Slowly, the flint in his eyes starts to dissipate. But you don't move towards him.
"Remember the last time I carried you down Taube? I was the West Wind, and so gentle with you. It's just like that this time."
You skitter back from his hands that reach out again, but this time you're stopped by a stump in your path. König sighs, hands on his thighs, ready to push himself into a standing position. You think that when he speaks again, he's going to be angry, but his voice stays soft.
"Remember Taube. You are mine, and I am yours. Please."
Finally, the fear starts to loosen inside of you, and you reach out to König, hands needing to find some purchase. His hands find you, pressing against the blood that still flows on your jaw. He picks you up, the West Wind again, and your blood mixes with the viscera on his shirt.
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Your vision slips in and out on the car ride, but König's voice is gentle the entire time. You can't make out what he's saying to you, sharp German intermingling with English. At times you think he might be speaking in Polish, your grandfather's voice rumbling out of him. 
But his hands are warm when the hospital is cold. When the doctor tells him to leave, König argues. You try to tell him to be nice, but you can't make your mouth open up wide enough. 
You dream again of your grandfather, crying gently as you hold his hand. You're in his hospital room again, but this time you're the one laying in the bed. He apologizes to you, and you try to beg him to stop. You can't listen to this - can't listen to him begging for your forgiveness for something you can't even remember. 
But he doesn't stop.
Warm hands brush the hair out of your face, and pull you out of the dream. The room rolls around you, and you heave, stomach acid and bile the only thing that can come up. A gray basin is shoved beneath your mouth. 
Your jaw burns where it stretches - your chest where it pulls as you heave up an empty stomach. Gentle German tries to soothe you, but you don't stop until your entire stomach is empty.
"Hush Taube. I don't want the nurse to tell me I have to leave again."
König swims into view, one hand still in your hair and the other holding the bed rail so hard he's white knuckling it. 
"Why?" Your voice cracks beneath the strain of not being used, "why did the nurse tell you to leave?"
You hope that he can hear the teasing edge of your voice. When he smiles, you realize that he doesn't have his mask on, eyes dark from lack of sleep.
"They wouldn't let me bathe you. They said I could make you bleed again. But I couldn't stand seeing you like that, so - " he trails off, smiling sheepishly. 
"So you were rude?"
"I suppose."
His fingers trace the edge of the bandage that starts at your jaw; the itch of the adhesive is starting to pull at your skin.
"How bad is it?" You ask, refusing to look down at the stitches on your chest. König sighs, resting his head against the edge of the bed so that he's eye level with you.
"The doctor said your jaw was wrecked, but they put it back together. You'll have a scar on your chest, but he said it could heal nicely."
The dull ache of pain is starting to build; you know you only have minutes left to talk before you can't anymore.
"Am I hideous?"
"Disgusting."
It hurts to laugh. The IV in your arm crinkles as you shift, trying to turn to face König better. He looks as horrible as you feel, but you keep that to yourself. His breath is warm on your face.
"I'm sorry Taube."
"König-"
He hushes you, hands gripping the bed rail so hard you think it might shatter beneath his fingers.
"No Taube. I should have sent you home. I should not have kept you trapt here with me. I didn't give you another choice. I just - I was so in love with you from the moment I picked you up. And this is my fault."
His hands shake, just minutely enough you can barely see. You hook one of your fingers with his, trying to calm whatever is threatening to break through.
"And now this - he could have killed you. And the baby-"
Even in the haze from the pain and the painkillers, you can tell this is what he has been sitting here worried about. What he's been racking around in his mind to try to tell you. 
"Did the doctor confirm it then?"
"I am sorry Taube."
And you know that he is apologizing for tying you to him, for what he thinks is some sort of death knoll he has rung for you. You pry his fingers off of the bed rail, and grip them tightly between your own.
"König, it will be ok."
His voice is steady, even though he can't look at you when he speaks, his eyes trained on where your hands hold him. 
"I didn't even do you the honor of marrying you first."
The pain in your jaw is too much to speak anymore. König notices, and reaches over your body to press a button wired to the opposite side of your bed. Beside you, some machine starts to whirl, the liquid in the IV starts to flow. You can feel the burn in the crook of your arm.
You fall back asleep with the warmth of König's hands on your own.
When you get home, bandages on your chest still being changed every two days, König tucks you into the spare bedroom. Into your bedroom. Each day you can open your jaw a little further, Valentina coming to visit you with some horrific soup that she swears her grandmother makes and can heal everything. Behind her back you pour it down the kitchen sink.
Some days Oma comes to see you, helping you change the bandage that disappears between your breasts. König's hands had shaken too hard the day you asked for his help. But when the stitches are ready to be cut out, you ask König to go with you. 
The sound plucks at something inside of you when the doctor snips the stitches away, leaving you with a trail of small holes down your chest - Frankensteinian in nature. König helps you button your shirt, fingers pulled away as far as possible from the swell in your stomach.
The ride home is quiet, fingers tapping against the window. Outside the snow is starting to grow thick, and the ice on the road gets thicker each day. The blacktop rolls smoothly underneath the wheels when you finally grow the courage to speak.
"Are you ever going to let me move back into the bedroom?"
König 'hmms' at you, fingers tapping against the steering wheel anxiously.
"The house only has two bedrooms," you explain, shifting to relieve the pressure that starts to grow on your hip. "Unless you want to give the baby the big bedroom."
König's breaths are measured, and you give him the time to shuffle his thoughts before he speaks.
"You do not wish to go back home when the baby is born?"
"Why would I do that?"
You know König is thinking of a thousand reasons, but he doesn't voice any of them. When he speaks again, his voice is thin and nervous, accent so thick you can barely understand him for once.
"Do you want to come back to bed with me?"
Fingers sneaking across the center console, you touch him gently on the thigh. 
"Every night."
The snow crunches beneath the tires as König turns into the driveway, lights illuminating the side of the house. Neither of you move once he shifts into park, engine idling smoothly in the winter air. König speaks as he turns the key, killing the engine.
"How about tonight?"
121 notes · View notes
ris-multi-fandom · 2 years ago
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Day 6 of Housevember22!
Fandom: House
Pairings: Gregory House x James Wilson
Characters: Gregory House, James Wilson, Lisa Cuddy, Alison Cameron, Eric Foreman, Robert Chase, Chris Taub, Remy Hadley.
TW for drug use and drug overdose.
November 6th: Empty
“House! House! Can you hear me?” His eyes drifted open and he could see the concerned face of a man that he recognised but couldn’t quite remember.
“Wilson, what happened?” He heard a woman approaching them, heels clicking quickly on the floor as she rushed to catch up. He recognised the voice, but couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to see who it was.
”He’s an idiot that’s what,” he heard the man reply, “I found this,” he tried to open his eyes to see what the man had found, “this was prescribed to him yesterday, now it’s empty,” he made out the shape of a pill bottle before his eyes shut again and everything succumbed to the darkness.
————
“House, follow my finger with your eyes,” another man said to him, a black guy dressed in a smart suit, he knew the man but didn’t at the same time. He did as he was told and the man seemed satisfied.
”Can you speak?” A woman asked this time, a pretty brunette came into his line of sight.
”yeah,” he tried to say, but nothing came out.
“Your mouth’s probably just a bit dry,” the man said, “Thirteen’s now getting you some water. The woman came back and he could feel a straw being placed between his lips. He sipped on the water before it was placed on the table next to his bed.
“Can you speak now?” She asked again.
”Yeah,” he muttered, his voice was hoarse but it was there.
“Can you tell me your name?”
He went to speak but he suddenly felt tired, his eyes shut and he could feel himself sinking into a darkness that was soon surrounding him.
”We need a crash cart in here!”
————
When he woke up again it was to a blonde woman staring down at him.
”He’s awake,” she said to someone over her shoulder.
“Good,” he heard, “How are you feeling House?” A short middle aged man came over.
”Alright,” he replied.
”No you’re not,” the woman said, it was weird, he knew that she’s somebody he knows but he couldn’t give her a name.
”Can you tell me what your name is?” The man asked him.
”House,” he answered.
”First name?” He questioned. House thought for a moment, but nothing came to his mind.
”Do you remember who I am?” The woman asked.
”No,” he admitted.
”It’s me, it’s Cameron,” she told him, “and this is Taub.”
”I know, but I don’t know,” he said, “I know that I recognise you but I can’t remember anyone’s names,” he noticed the two doctors looking at each other, concerned expressions on their faces.
————
“How’s he doing Foreman?” He opened his eyes and saw the same man who had brought him in was back.
”There’s a small bleed on his brain, from what we can tell he hit his head when he collapsed, it explains why he can’t remember names. We’re keeping an eye on him but it should sort itself out, if it doesn’t we’ll go in and cauterise it,” he heard the other man, Foreman, say.
”Looks like he’s awake again,” the first man said, coming over to sit next to him, “hey House, it’s Wilson.”
”Wilson,” House repeated, “what happened?”
”You overdosed,” Wilson replied, House could tell he was angry at him, “a whole bottle of Vicodin. Empty. You took a whole bottle of Vicodin House.”
”I was in a lot of pain,” he muttered, remembering back to the feeling he had in his leg mere hours earlier, “and it wasn’t a full bottle, I had been taking some throughout the day, it was probably just over a half.”
”That’s still a lot you idiot!” Wilson yelled.
”I was in a lot of pain!” House yelled back. Wilson looked at him, anger on his face, but that soon changed to a look of concern, “What?”
“Foreman!” Wilson called out. The other man came over, “does his eyes look yellow to you?” House was suddenly blinded by a light shining in his eyes.
”Crap,” Foreman said, “his liver’s failing.”
————
“UNOS won’t let him have one, he’s a drug addict!” He heard a woman arguing.
”You’re the Dean of medicine, isn’t there something you can do?” That was Wilson who was arguing back.
”I can’t break the law and steal an organ because he’s fried his liver!” The woman cried back.
”He’s going to die if you don’t Cuddy!”
“You don’t think I don’t know that, I don’t want him to die but if I do this not only would I got to prison but everyone involved would, this hospital wouldn’t be able to do another transplant again and who is that going to help?” Cuddy replied.
”House! It would help House!” Wilson yelled back.
”Can you guys keep it down? I’m trying to sleep over here,” House grumbled and the two looked over to him.
”Hey how are you?” Cuddy asked, coming over.
”Well I’m dying, so there’s that,” he replied.
”No you’re not,” Wilson said, “I’m going to donate half of my liver.”
”What?” Cuddy asked, “Have you even thought about this?”
“I have a liver, his is crap. I have O- blood, he’s AB+. I’m a universal donor, he’s a universal recipient. It’s a match made in heaven,” Wilson countered.
”You’ll be risking your life,” Cuddy said, “I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it but just think about it first.”
”I don’t think you’ll have much time to think about it,” House said, “I’m about to crash,” the other two doctors looked over to him as his monitor started to beep and the world went dark again.
————
“Good morning sleeping beauty, we’re just getting you prepped for surgery,” he heard a man with an Australian accent say.
”You better not kill me Chase,” House mumbled and Chase stopped.
”You remembered my name,” he said, suddenly.
”So I did, guess my brain’s not bleeding anymore,” he replied.
”Well let’s get your liver fixed then,” Chase told him, before wheeling him off to the OR.
————
When House woke up again he could hear the beeping from various different machines, he opened his eyes, squinting against the bright lights, and looked around the room. He spotted another bed which was holding a sleeping Wilson and smiled to himself as he thought about how his friend had saved his life. After about ten minutes he got bored, he sat up on the edge of his bed and took some shaky steps over to Wilson’s bed.
”Wilson,” He whispered, “Wilson!” He whispered louder, poking the other man in the face.
”What?” Wilson groaned, opening his eyes.
”I’m ordering room service, did you want anything?” He joked. Wilson looked around the room before looking at House.
”From this place? No thanks, I’ve seen the food that they serve.” House laughed at this, sitting on the edge of Wilson’s bed, “you know, you owe me now, I’ve saved your life.”
”And what would I owe you?” House asked.
”Stop taking Vicodin. Go to rehab, get sober and don’t put me into this position again. I’ll just out of organ’s before long,” Wilson replied.
”But the pain is unbearable without it, I just won’t take so many again,” House told him.
”No, you’ll stop taking it all together,” Wilson said, “how about I give you a little incentive.”
”What incentive?” House asked. Wilson sat up on the bed, groaning as he tried to sit forward, “what are you-“ House started, but stopped when Wilson cupped one of his cheeks in his hand, he leant in closer to the oncologist, taking pity on the younger man who was struggling to sit far enough forward. They soon joined in the middle, sharing a slow and passionate kiss, before Wilson backed away.
“We can have something House,” Wilson told him, “but you need to be clean, because I can’t lose you,” House looked into Wilson’s beautiful brown eyes, noticing the tears in them, “I love you,” House felt his breath catch in his throat as Wilson said this, he continued to get lost in the other man’s eyes before he spoke.
”I love you too,” he said, “ok, I’ll do it” he agreed, “I’ll go to rehab,” Wilson took House’s hand in his and smiled at him. House smiled back, imagining what his future would be like once he makes it through rehab and get’s to spend his life with Wilson.
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meettheprivate · 3 years ago
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They Get Jealous [TF2 x SO]
I'm lowkey kinda shocked I haven't written this one yet so LESGO: How they respond when jealous.
Scout: "Okay tough guy, ya betta back away from my babe or we're gonna have a problem here!" He couldn't be calm about it if he tried, which he didn't try because no one should lay a finger on his partner. Someone so much as bats an eyelash at you and they're gonna suffer for it with a bonk to the head. He'd appreciate it if you could reward his heroics with a smooch.
Soldier: "Listen here you hippie scum, if you think for five minutes I'm going to let you even attempt to steal my cupcake you've got another thing coming!" Much like Scout, he's not going to be rational. However, he's ignorant at first, and doesn't realize someone is hitting on you until the person is blatant and says or does something inappropriate. Soldier saves the day and fights off perverted scum for you.
Pyro: "Hudda hudda hudda!" They're completely oblivious, they completely misunderstand that someone is trying to sweep you off your feet. They just think it's all fun and games, until they see the stranger pinch your bum - oh look, now the place is on fire. Pyro charges with you over their shoulder as you both make a daring escape from the creep - and the burning building.
Demoman: "You come wide at me and my love again mate an' I'll be stickin' me bottle o' scrumpy so far up yer arse ye can taste the alcohol on yer tongue!" He's composed at first, but this doesn't last long. He acknowledges that someone is staring, he acknowledges that you're attractive too. He acknowledges when they offer to pay for your drink, hell, he encourages you to take them up on it. The moment they start flirting at you in front of him though? That's when shit hits the fan.
Heavy: "You think you can beat me and take my love away from me? Is cute." He doesn't take it seriously for a second, he's not even remotely concerned. He trusts you, he knows you would never leave him for someone so much weaker and feeble. You're an honest person, you're his honest person. He'll be incredibly dismissive towards anyone who hits on you as he knows they don't have a shot in hell with his love.
Engineer: "If I catch you near my darlin' again we're gonna have ourselves a problem, y'understand boy/girl?" He tries to be as cool as Heavy, and he can keep it up in front of you fairly well - he doesn't want his Honeybee to know how scary he can be. When you walk away and it's just him and the culprit though, he goes stone cold and serious. He needs to make it abundantly clear that if this person tries anything again, they won't get to see the next day.
Medic: "If your heart beats that fast for mien Taube, surely it would beat even faster on a slab as I poke and prod at it experimentation!" He cuts to the cut-throat nature in front of you, he doesn't care. He needs this SoB to know that you are his dove, and that he is unafraid to do something drastic even in your presence. You really should not be surprised by this.
Sniper: "I said piss off, before I make a necklace out'o your teeth." He's forthcoming to say the least, as the charmer would likely be stupid enough to ignore the bushman standing right beside you. With his kuriki in hand (who let him smuggle that in?!), your Sniper will be on the offensive faster than you can say "crikey" if this bloke doesn't disappear within the next ten seconds.
Spy: "How drĂŽle." He thinks it's hilarious how someone could be foolish enough to attempt to seduce his petit amour. Oh no no, they are confused, surely. He won't waste time on threats, he knows he has you wrapped around his little finger. Yet, if the creep was nasty enough, Spy will do some snooping, find out where this fool lives and end them slowly and painfully.
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hellbabyfromhell · 3 years ago
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which house md characters would: smoke weed / freak out on weed / sell you weed in high school (current day)
wilson:
smoke: NO!
freak out: absolutely. He will make you check his heart rate 3 times and insist he was paralyzed or in hell. never ever invite him to the sesh. he does not want to come! even
sell you weed in high school: no. if anything he was probably being ripped off if he bought any at all. in fact he was probably sold just a leaf off a normal tree and believed the seller
house:
smoke: yes and every drug and he carefully charts and logs his experiences for erowid
freak out: No. It doesn’t affect him. Nothing helps his leg pain. alt answer sometimes and he carefully charts and logs his experiences for erowid
sell you weed in high school: i feel like he maybe would have a school shooter vibe so idk if anyone would hang out with him but he’d find a way to make fake weed. or he’d maybe sell Primo Dark Net weed to fellow nerds but he’d sell like something wrong to popular kids on purpose and make them hallucinate. real school shooter vibe
cameron:
smoke: never until college
 but in college
đŸ€Ș
freak out: no freakouts, yes mistakes. 😔
sell you weed in high school: n/a she was studying and perhaps even homeschooled. or at like an indigo children school. she weaved baskets
chase:
smokes: socially, only while drinking, and he never matches
freak out: no he’s too drunk
sell you weed in high school: yes but he requires you to meet him at the park 2 blocks from his house because if his parents catch him doing this again he’s going to be in so much trouble and last time his dad made him go to the police station and tell them he smoked weed plus he’ll get kicked out of the foreign exchange program. and he’ll act angry at you for buying because of this.
kutner:
smoke: fuck yea 😎
freak out: never 😎 i think the closest he’d get is he’d eat way too many edibles and watch a nature documentary and see a seashell that was too detailed and he’d turn the tv off and be like “i need to go to bed.”
sell weed to you in high school: yes and will sell many things but if its anything other than weed it is definitely untrustworthy. like not bc he’s a bad person but he will buy fake acid accidentally.
cuddy:
smoke: a LOT, then she stopped a little for work to be an adult. But she smokes.
freak out: infrequent. shes usually helping someone else calm down
sell you weed in high school: she had like rich parents and probably could get anything and would sell it to you.
amber:
smoke: only if theres some kind of societal gain probably. You’ve gotta play the game to win.
freak out: yes. gets paranoid but has a stiff upper lip. Youve gotta play the game. or she has strange impulsive thoughts. shes sitting at the sesh and shes staring at chase like “if i wanted i could get my strawberry chapstick in my bag and just rub it on him and he would like, die” and externally shes just like 👁 👁 at you across the room
sell you weed in high school: no but she was watching school adderall sales like it was the stock market
foreman:
smoke: yeah sometimes. and he will act like fucking mr. weed expert
freak out: he’ll tell you he never does but hes lying. ego death every night. jk but. contemplating his entire life. Inner turmoil.
sell you weed in high school: he will but itll be weighed light and he’ll make you smoke half of it at his house 🙄
thirteen:
smoke: only when she drinks (so yes)
freak out: yes but silently. đŸ–€
sell you weed in high school: yes and she’d be on some orange is the new black shit
taub:
smoke: not really. he’s an adult. even when he was a teen he was an an adult. Like he had a pocket protector. maybe he would smoke weed during a mid life crisis but it’d be less about the weed and more about the crisis
freak out: not in the traditional sense but he’d ask you if he was high or looks high about a thousand times
sell you weed in high school: he was in the chess club and they were really busy
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theothin · 8 months ago
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I swore I remembered something like this happening and it turns out it was the reverse
House: Wednesday night. Low-down-blue-meanie versus the Incinerator. Wilson: I can’t. House: Let me rephrase. Low-down-blue-meanie — Wilson: I understand monster truck code. Do you understand "can't"? House: Not when it follows "low-down-blue-meanie." Is the world coming to an end Tuesday night? Otherwise, Wednesday—(they stop) Wilson: All right, it's not "can’t." It's "don't want to." The fact is, I just don't like monster trucks. House: Yes, you do. Wilson: No, I don't. House: You've always liked monster trucks. Wilson: No, you've always liked them. I've tolerated them. Seriously, I can only watch so many hyped-up dune buggies crush so many motor homes without feeling the urge to go see La Boheme. And I hate opera too.
House: And why'd you lie about monster trucks? Wilson: I didn’t. House: I checked your appointment book. You got tomorrow night marked off, but you didn't put down what you were doing. So you thought someone might look at the book — Wilson: I'm playing racquetball tomorrow night, with Taub. House: Why would you hide that? Wilson: Because the world revolves around you. I devote time to anyone else, you'd end up stalking me and harassing them. House: You say that as though it wouldn't be fun. Wilson: And maybe I didn't want to rub your nose in the fact that we'd be doing something you can no longer do. Because I'm nice. (He picks up his lunch tray and leaves)
[Aerial view of PPTH then a cut to the morgue, where House is lying on gurney tossing a small red ball into the air] [There is a body lying on a table in the room. Taub walks in] Taub: Why'd you page me here? House: (still tossing the ball) I need you to update me on the patient's condition. Taub: Seems to be dead. Why'd you page me here? House: I need you to update me on the patient's condition (he sits up and holds up the ball) while hitting this against the wall. (House tosses the ball to Taub who catches it) This is the only place we can do both. Taub: I finished the last blood draw. House: I expect the people who work for me to rise to a challenge. Unless they don't expect to work for me. [Taub picks up a racket from a nearby table. House sits back preparing to observe] [Taub bounces the ball once and hits it against the back wall. Most of this conversation takes place while Taub continues to hit the ball against the wall] Taub: Last blood draw was at 6:00 AM. Sugar levels never rose above 120 all night. (Taub misses and has to chase down the ball and start again) House: So the glucose was normal. Means you were wrong about diabetes. Taub: (hitting the ball again) I still think it's the endocrine system. Maybe I just got the wrong gland. House: So you're going for thyroid instead of pancreas? Makes sense. [Taub hits the ball too hard and when trying to hit it again, ends up knocking things off of a shelving unit] Taub: Fine. I'm not playing racquetball with Wilson. I was never playing racquetball with Wilson. (pause) I thought it would be helpful if a Department Head owed me a favor. But it's not worth this. House: (nods) Not bad. You put on a good show. You studied up. Wilson actually booked a court. If you were really a racquetball player, you'd know that you were holding a squash racket. (pause) Tell Kutner to do a thyroid reuptake scan, I’ll go grab a nap in one of the on-call rooms. (He gets up and heads out the door)
[Cut to Taub poking his head into Wilson’s office. Wilson is sitting at his desk] Taub: I'm here to invite you to lunch. Wilson: Uh, why? [Taub comes into the office and shuts the door behind him] Taub: I've been made. House sent me back to you as a double agent. [Wilson sighs and puts his head in his hands]
[Taub comes out of Wilson’s office and he and House head down the hall together] Taub: I told Wilson you sent me to get information. House: And now you're telling me. What does that make you, a quadruple agent? (They walk into House’s office) Taub: He let me print out his e-mails. House: Wow. Excellent. Information he wants us to have. Did he let you print out his deleted e-mails? Taub: No. House: Then go back there — Taub: As long as I was sitting there, I thought I'd print 'em anyway. (He hands a stack paper to House) Top one's the one you're looking for.
House: Does it bother you that we have no social contract? Wilson: (laughs) My whole life is one big compromise. I tiptoe around everyone like they're made of china. I spend all my time analyzing: What will the effect be if I say this? Then there's you. You're a reality junkie. If I offered you a comforting lie, you'd smack me over the head with it. Let's not change that. House: Okay. Wilson: No, see, this — if you were implementing the social contract, you'd say that, but only because
 It makes me feel better
 House: It is kind of fun watching you torture yourself. Wilson: Do you think things will work out with my brother? [The elevator arrives at the ground floor. House and Wilson step out and head toward the exit] House: No. But when it does go wrong, it won't be your fault. Wilson: Thanks, House. House: You do actually like monster trucks? Wilson: Absolutely.
[x]
wilson LOVES being house's only friend. if house made another friend wilson would do something totally insane like make up symptoms to have a mysterious illness only house can solve
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supportclassstan · 4 years ago
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Misc Medic Imagines/HCs
A/N: I feel compelled to complete the trinity. Also maining Medic has given me a kinship to this man that is indescribable, I used to wonder why he was so crazy but after maining him I get it. I understand.
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His hands. Holding yours, touching your face, your neck, your body... They're a little rough in texture, but when he puts them to use they're heavenly.
He calls you a myriad of German nicknames, but he's quite fond of "taube," which means dove.
The way he perks up at any sign of affection from you, he was overthinking like he usually does but the kiss of a cheek was all he needed to derail his train of thought and focus his attention on something worthy of it: you.
The battle is tense and the team is pushing, you see him rounding the corner behind the Heavy. You have injuries, bad ones, but you don't want to jeopardize the mission, so you say nothing. After your team wins and he's on his way back to the base he finds you half-dead and carries you all the way to the medbay, scolding you during the walk there.
He offers you a lolipop after every procedure.
He notices when you stare, and oh boy does he relish the feeling. He does everything he can to keep your gaze for as long as he can, even when you get embarrassed.
He wasn't so sure how he felt about the Burly Beast until he saw your reaction to it.
He reads you bedtime stories in German sometimes, especially if you've had a bad day/nightmare. He makes sure you snuggle up to his chest while he rests the book on his stomach, and while he reads the doves gather around and get comfortable as well.
He likes to feed you treats that he makes. Sometimes they're laced with something, other times they aren't. Is he running experiments or just being nice? You'll never know.
He isn't organized to the naked eye, but believe me there is a method to the madness. His lab and personal office are in a state of disarray but it's almost enchanting: like a wizard's domain but more... Sciency.
If he hugs you and you're short then prepare to be suffocated by his bulging pecks.
Sometimes he finds it comforting to play with you while you sleep. Mostly your head, he has a knack for messing with your hair but he will *never* admit it. Assuming you're bald like Heavy, he simply likes to run his fingers across the surface of your head.
Watching Archimedes is a sign that he really trusts you, and the more trust you gain the more often he'll allow you acess to his birds. Sometimes they're your only company whilst he's busy, but they're a good audience. They listen to you when you talk, and nestle into all sorts of nooks and crannys if you happen to fall asleep. Be sure to change the newspapers though.
He's a lot more affectionate when he's sleepy. It's rare you ever really get to see him when he's sleepy because he's hard to wear out and also very hard to ever catch in his awake stages. He burns the candle at both ends but tries to fix his sleep deprivation with all sorts of supplements and caffine.
That being said, you will need to help this fool get *some* kind of sleep. You're one of the only people who will be able to successfully convince him otherwise he refuses.
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