#like sir the rest of my health is not your concern this is not what I’m coming to you for

[garciapimienta]

I hate doctors so much

[thedensworld]

Falling Flower | K.Mg

Pairing: CEO Mingyu! x Secretary Reader

Genre: suggestive, fluff, humour, angst

Summary: Mingyu never thought that he would find Y/n, his friend's secretary, attractive. What's started from eyes, physical, has fallen to his heart. As he tries to get to know you, he realizes he knew nothing about you.

Warning: child abuse, mental health, pregnancy, unprotected sex, ptsd, asexual description on character, heavy plot asdfghjkl.

Part 2 has uploaded here: Flower Bloomed

Mingyu's nervous anticipation lingered in the air as he rhythmically tapped his finger on the sofa, his other hand guarding his mouth to restrain words he feared might escape. Across the room, Choi Seungcheol remained absorbed in finishing his work, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil brewing within his younger friend.

"I was surprised when I heard you'll be visiting," Seungcheol remarked, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Mingyu's restlessness. Rising from his desk, he joined Mingyu on the sofa, prompting a flicker of hope in the younger man's eyes.

The door creaked open, and Mingyu's gaze snapped toward the entrance, only to be met with disappointment as one of Seungcheol's secretaries entered. A visible trace of frustration clouded Mingyu's expression, realizing he wouldn't see you upon the door's opening, a fact that had fueled his anticipation since stepping into the building.

"Here's your coffee, gentlemen," the secretary politely interjected, placing the cups on the table. Instead of retreating, he cleared his throat, vying for both Seungcheol and Mingyu's attention, though Mingyu sensed the message was primarily for Seungcheol.

"Ms. Ji has informed that she needs a day of rest and may join you tomorrow, sir. I'll be attending today," the secretary conveyed, a hint of formality in his words. Seungcheol's forehead creased with concern, and Mingyu, sensing an underlying tension, couldn't help but wonder about the undisclosed circumstances.

"Why didn't she call me? Is she alright?" Seungcheol's voice held genuine worry, and Mingyu found himself caught in the currents of concern and curiosity, eager to unravel the mystery veiled behind Seungcheol's questioning tone.

"Yes, she's alright. She didn't want to worry you, sir. Please let me know if there's anything you need," the secretary assured, earning a nod from Seungcheol before gracefully exiting the office.

Mingyu, sensing an unspoken weight in the air, couldn't hold back his concern. "What's wrong? What happened to Y/n?"

Seungcheol, his face etched with a sigh, began to unravel the untold tale. "She collapsed an hour before you came."

Mingyu gasped, the news hitting him like a sudden storm. "Is she alright?"

Seungcheol, taking a contemplative sip of his coffee, revealed, "Just like what you heard from Jun earlier. She never takes a day off and barely has any rest. I was worried because she has no one but a roommate."

The revelation gripped Mingyu's attention. "No one? You mean family?"

Seungcheol's furrowed brows hinted at a mystery yet to be unraveled. "I don't know, but she didn't write down her family members on the application form."

Seungcheol swiftly redirected the conversation, his tone revealing a calculated move. "Why are we suddenly talking about my secretary? I know you're here with a reason, right? Is it about the article released yesterday?" Mingyu, caught off guard by the shift, sensed that Seungcheol might be deliberately steering away from the topic of Y/n.

"You've got it pretty bad, my man. That's why you disappeared all of a sudden, huh?" Seungcheol remarked, referring to a photo of Mingyu with a woman at Joshua's birthday party. Mingyu sighed, wearied by the older man's probing questions. "It's almost two months already, but why did the media have to release it right before my company's anniversary?" he lamented, finding solace in finally having an outlet for the frustration that had built up since the article's publication.

"They even wrote 'Kim Group's heir playboy agenda...'" Mingyu paused, attempting to convey his exasperation by showing something on his phone.

Seungcheol stifled a laugh while reading a headline the media had crafted. "Kim Mingyu: a businessman who's ready to sweep your heart. Pfftt.."

Mingyu pocketed his phone, frustration evident in his voice. "I didn't go study business in the States just to be accused as a playboy." The weight of Mingyu's words hung in the air, a mix of pride and frustration as he grappled with the undeserved label imposed by the media.

Seungcheol nodded knowingly. "I know. It was your fault starting that playboy image when you brought actress Kim Huisoo to the Jeon charity ball years ago," he stated matter-of-factly, a fact that sent Mingyu's head spinning.

"I know. I should've clarified that Kim Huisoo is actually a cousin. She doesn't want the public to know she's part of our family," Mingyu sighed, a tinge of regret coloring his words.

Seungcheol, nonchalant, shrugged. "It was a good decision that I only brought Y/n to every event I attended." He continued, "That's why I told you to have a woman as your secretary."

"Not all women are Ji Y/n," Mingyu muttered, rolling his eyes at the older man.

Seungcheol smiled proudly. "That's true."

Mingyu, shifting his posture, finally divulged his true purpose. "Talking about Y/n... I actually came here to meet her." He paused, but before he could elaborate, Seungcheol interjected, "What is it?"

Shaking his head, Mingyu rose from his seat. "I should get going. Are you coming to Wonwoo's after-party tomorrow?" he inquired, leaving Seungcheol in a state of confusion. Despite the lingering questions, Seungcheol could only nod as Mingyu exited his office. The unspoken complexities of Mingyu's visit left Seungcheol pondering, unsure of the full extent of what transpired within those walls.

*

"You must be kidding me, right?" Minseo exclaimed incredulously, throwing her hands in the air as if attempting to physically reject the words that had just escaped your lips. A nervous laughter bubbled up within her, and she desperately clung to the hope that it was all some elaborate joke. "It was a joke, right? Ok, nice one," she managed to say between laughter, offering you a compliment for what inadvertently became an unexpected ab workout from holding back her amusement.

As you gazed at Minseo, a profound calmness settled over you, concealing the internal turmoil that had been brewing since yesterday. Silently, you wished for this surreal revelation to be nothing more than a prank or a bizarre dream. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on you, prompting a deep sigh as you leaned into the sofa. Fatigue gripped you, and you closed your eyes, seeking a momentary escape from the harsh reality that had unfolded.

Kim Minseo scrutinized your expression, her own heartbeat quickening as the reality of your confession sank in. The gravity of your words was unmistakable, and there was a palpable tension in the air – nothing about this was a joke. The weight of the truth hung heavily between you.

In a surge of disbelief and frustration, Minseo seized your collar, her grip tight and accusatory. "You're crazy?! How could you get pregnant all of a sudden?!" Her words erupted like a storm, echoing through the room as she confronted the unexpected revelation.

You furrowed your brow, a mixture of annoyance and resignation etching your features. "I know. It just happened," you mumbled, attempting to convey the unexpected nature of the situation. However, the mounting tension pushed you to a breaking point, and in a moment of frustration, you pushed Minseo away. The force caused her to stumble, landing on the floor – a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil that had unraveled in mere moments. The room now held an uneasy silence, broken only by the echoes of Minseo's shout and the lingering weight of an unforeseen reality.

Minseo swiftly rose from the floor, her urgency palpable as she seized your arm. "Let's go have an abortion!" she declared, the words hanging in the air with a weight you never anticipated coming from her.

Your eyes widened in shock, the gravity of Minseo's suggestion hitting you like a sudden storm. Her unexpected proposal left you speechless, grappling with the reality of the situation. This was a turn of events you hadn't prepared for, and the tension in the room escalated.

"What?" you stammered, the incredulity evident in your voice. The idea of Minseo suggesting such a course of action caught you off guard, unraveling any expectations you might have had.

Minseo locked eyes with you, her expression a mix of determination and concern. "What?" she echoed, seeking a response to her proposal.

Shaking your head, you replied hastily, "I don't have time. I have work to do!" The weight of responsibilities, both unexpected and preexisting, pressed on you, clouding your judgment.

In response, Minseo gasped before tightening her grip on your collar once again. "And you've got time to get knocked?" she retorted, her frustration evident as the confrontation escalated, leaving both of you ensnared in a complex web of emotions and decisions.

Observing your silent turmoil, Minseo released a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of understanding. Her eyes softened as she settled beside you, gently taking hold of your hand in a gesture of support. "How long is it?" she inquired, her tone filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

You turned your head to meet her gaze, the vulnerability in your eyes reflecting the reality of the situation. "5 weeks," you revealed, the weight of those weeks palpable in the heaviness of the air.

A nervous edge crept into Minseo's voice as she broached a sensitive question, "Do you know the father?" Her inquiry hung in the air, the uncertainty adding an extra layer of tension to the conversation.

Closing your eyes, you hesitated, reluctant to delve into that particular topic just yet. Instead, you nodded, your acknowledgment accompanied by a flood of memories from the night in question. Regret washed over you as you raised your hands to cover your face. Rather than succumbing to sadness, embarrassment swept over you like an overwhelming wave, adding a complex layer to the emotional tapestry that unfolded. The room, once charged with confrontation, now held a delicate atmosphere of shared vulnerability and unspoken understanding.

The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air, and you couldn't escape the realization that it was a mere drunken mistake – a wishful thinking that somehow the alcohol had clouded the events of that night. However, clarity hit hard as you acknowledged that you were a hundred percent sober, the memories of that regrettable night etched vividly in your mind. A part of you yearned for him to forget, yet another part wished he would remember.

"Noooo!" The exclamation escaped your lips as you kicked your leg into the air, a spontaneous outburst that startled Minseo, sitting beside you and absorbing the rollercoaster of emotions.a

Minseo, with a careful tone, sought to understand the complexity of the situation. "It's not just a random person you met at a club or something, right? The father?" she asked, delicately navigating the sensitive terrain.

"It'll be better," you mumbled in response, a quiet plea for understanding. The weight of the truth and the potential consequences loomed large, creating a web of conflicting emotions that both bound and divided you in this unexpected journey.

Minseo's palm met her forehead in an exasperated gesture. "Okay!" she declared as she rose from her seat, pointing a finger at you to emphasize the undeniable fact – you were five weeks pregnant. The weight of the revelation settled in the room as she continued, "And I'm going to fly to the States for study in three days."

A cloud of guilt seemed to shadow her expression as she posed a poignant question. "Are you okay with me leaving you?" The concern in her eyes was evident, a reflection of the dilemma she found herself in.

You nodded reassuringly, "Yeah, don't worry. It's not like my entire life would change," you offered, attempting to alleviate Minseo's concerns and downplay the upheaval that lay ahead.

"Should I delay my study and help you instead?" Minseo queried, raising a brow in consideration.

In response, you playfully threw a pillow in her direction, the well-aimed hit prompting a light chuckle. "No way! You worked hard for this. You should go," you insisted, appreciating her ambitions and refusing to be the reason for any detour.

"It's not like it's my first time living alone," you added, attempting to underscore your self-sufficiency despite the unexpected circumstances. Minseo observed you, her worry evident as she mumbled, "But you're pregnant."

Standing up, you prepared to retreat to your room, asserting, "It's just pregnancy, Minseo. I'll get used to it. Don't worry," leaving a lingering reassurance in the air as you walked to your room. You definitely need time to process this.

*

As you strolled towards the office, Seungcheol abruptly halted and called your attention, snapping you out of the daydream that had seemingly captivated your thoughts since morning.

"Are you okay? Do you need a day off?" he inquired, observing your startled expression. You shook your head, offering your usual smile. "I'm good, sir. Just lost in thought. I apologize," you said, motioning for him to resume the journey to his office.

"What did the hospital say about your condition yesterday? I hope it's nothing that's causing you to be distracted today," he remarked, a mix of jest and genuine concern in his tone. Clearing your throat, you reassured him, "i'm fine, sir. Just exhaustion. I rested well yesterday," you explained.

Once the two of you arrived in front of his office, he paused, refraining from entering immediately. Turning towards you, he hesitated for a moment before extending an invitation, "Can you accompany me for my schedule tonight? Just until the after party."

Nodding in acknowledgment, you took note of this favor, "Do you want me to come in a suit or a dress, sir?" It was a routine question, one you always posed whenever the same agenda surfaced.

"Dress, please. Even though it's Wonwoo's birthday, you know how the Jeons are with their events," he replied, a subtle reminder of the grandeur and regality that often accompanied gatherings hosted by the Jeon family.

As you nodded and respectfully bowed, returning to your desk, Seungcheol unexpectedly swung his office door open once again, prompting you to turn your head towards him.

"Yes, sir?" you inquired, noticing the furrow on Seungcheol's brow.

"Mingyu was looking for you yesterday. Do you have business with him that I don't know about?" he questioned, his tone reflecting a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Caught off guard, you paused for a moment before nervously responding, "He might want to confront me for a mistake I made last week. I mistakenly scheduled a meeting with him earlier than intended." The unexpected visit from the heir of Kim Group, CEO Kim FnB, Kim Mingyu, still surprised you.

Raising an eyebrow, Seungcheol pressed further, "Why does he have to confront you himself?"

You shrugged, replying, "Mr. Yoon was like that as well," referencing Jeonghan, Seungcheol's friend who often interacted with you in a friendly manner.

Seungcheol sighed, expressing his concern, "Please tell me immediately if the boys bother you next time," his words carried a protective tone, a reminder of the tight-knit group of friends you had become acquainted with through your association with him.

As you nodded in acknowledgment, gratitude laced your words, "Yes, sir... Thank you so much." Seungcheol reciprocated the nod before gently closing the door, leaving you alone at your desk.

A heavy breath of relief escaped you as you contemplated why Kim Mingyu sought you out. Did he remember? You shook your head, recalling that he seemed oblivious that night, likely due to intoxication. If only you hadn't approached him at the bar and engaged in conversation.

To shake off the lingering thoughts, you resorted to a series of self-slaps to regain focus. There was a pile of work, emails to send, and phone calls to make. Distractions happened, but you were determined to get back on track.

Just as you were settling into your tasks, a phone call from Minseo interrupted your concentration. Her urgent tone conveyed a sense of distress. "Ji Y/n, what am I gonna do? My course starts earlier than I expected, and I have to fly to the States by tonight," she explained, painting a picture of her predicament.

"Really? But I have a schedule tonight; I can't come to the airport," you replied, glancing at your itinerary, which indicated the after party starting at 11. A brief moment of realization hit you; that was the time you'd be free.

"It's okay. Please make sure that you call me if anything happens, okay? I'm in the middle of packing!" Minseo requested, seeking reassurance.

"Hmm... Take care," you replied, the weight of conflicting priorities settling in.

*

"Mr. Bae Inhyeon, President of Gubbae Electronic, at 12 o'clock," you whispered to Seungcheol, trailing a few inches behind him. Seungcheol's grin widened, and he raised his hand in a welcoming gesture towards Bae Inhyeon. You followed suit, offering a polite bow as Seungcheol introduced you as his dedicated secretary.

Not even ten minutes had passed since you and Seungcheol arrived, yet the room buzzed with excitement as everyone eagerly anticipated meeting Seungcheol, the formidable contender for the future presidency of Choi Corp. With a subtle finesse, you discreetly shared the names of those who greeted him, offering hushed insights behind his back. Your role extended beyond mere administrative duties; you navigated the intricate web of industry relationships with adept skill.

As the interactions unfolded, you observed the dynamics at play, blending seamlessly into the background while subtly influencing the course of conversations. The air was charged with ambition and anticipation, a palpable energy that hinted at the high stakes involved in the corporate world. Your commitment to understanding the industry's players proved invaluable as you seamlessly assisted Seungcheol in navigating the intricate social fabric of business engagements. In this fast-paced environment, your keen awareness and discreet gestures spoke volumes about your competency as a secretary.

After exchanging pleasantries with the gathering, Seungcheol made his way to Wonwoo, the man of the hour celebrating his birthday. With a subtle motion, he indicated for you to enjoy the impending festivities, as the ceremony for the launch of Wonwoo's entertainment label was about to commence.

Taking advantage of the brief moment, you excused yourself and navigated toward the restroom, intent on a quick check of your appearance. Inside, you found two women engaged in a lively conversation, their camaraderie evident.

As you eavesdropped on their discussion, it became apparent that they were the "plus one", well-versed in the dynamics of the industry. The woman in the black dress remarked enthusiastically, "Did you see Kim Mingyu entering the ballroom? This place lit up."

Her companion, while reapplying lipstick, nodded with a knowing smile. "He's a fine man, and he's still young. What do you expect from a conglomerate?"

The black dress woman chuckled, her tone carrying a hint of mischief. "However, he's a womanizer, do you know that?" she revealed.

The woman in the yellow dress responded with a teasing tone, "With that look, he couldn't not be one. If my daddy ever grows tired of me, I might just throw myself at him."

A sigh escaped your lips as you turned your head towards the animated conversation. "Excuse me, Daddy's babies. Could you lower your voices a bit? Thanks," you calmly requested, punctuating the statement with a corporate smile that concealed any underlying irritation.

They scrutinized you from head to toe, skepticism evident in their eyes. One of them, with a hint of disdain, asked, "Who are you? It doesn't seem like you're part of their circle. Are you also a mistress?" Laughter ensued from both, the echoes of their amusement resonating within the restroom.

Undeterred, you gracefully walked away. Just before reaching the exit, you turned your body and retorted, "Do I look like one of you guys? Stop joking!" The playful remark carried a touch of assertiveness as you left the restroom, leaving behind the lingering traces of your unyielding self-assurance.

The ceremony had yet to begin, and as you wandered around the ballroom, Seungcheol appeared to relish his newfound freedom in your absence. Determined to locate him, you scanned the crowd for his familiar figure.

Amidst your search, a man approached, introducing himself as Lee Jaewook. "You might know me from my father, Lee Daeyong, of Daeyong Finance," he stated confidentially, handing you a glass of wine.

"What's your name, lady?"

Politely accepting the glass, you replied, "Ji Y/n."

His admission continued, "I've seen you around sometimes, but I never dared to approach you."

Nodding graciously, you offered a warm smile. "I appreciate that. I'm engaged," you revealed, lifting your hand to showcase the engagement ring you always wore to events—a precautionary measure suggested by Seungcheol. The ring had been carefully chosen and purchased by him.

Jaewook appeared taken aback, inquiring, "Are you with your fiance then? May I know him?" Before you could utter a response, a hand slipped around your waist, catching you off guard. Turning, you found Kim Mingyu with a smile that seemed to hold secrets shared between them and extended to Jaewook.

"I've been looking for you," Mingyu remarked softly, his words carrying a certain ambiguity. Confusion etched across your face as you regarded him, but any questions were silenced as he whispered into your ear, "Just play with me."

"Kim Mingyu, I didn't know you had such a beautiful fiancée," Lee Jaewook remarked, a touch of admiration in his voice. Mingyu responded with a charming smile, acknowledging the compliment, "Yeah, it's not easy to have a beautiful fiancée and try to keep her away from some foxy eyes around. Right, Lee Jaewook?" He took the glass of wine from your hand, sipping it casually as if to emphasize his point.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, wondering about Mingyu's unexpected playfulness. It was a departure from the composed and mysterious demeanor he had displayed earlier. As Lee Jaewook smiled and excused himself, stating, "I should go. See you later, you two," you couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of intrigue and uncertainty.

As Lee Jaewook departed, you seized the opportunity, releasing a fake cough to capture Mingyu's attention. He promptly withdrew his hand from your waist into his pocket, meeting your gaze with a hint of amusement. "Not even a thanks?" he teased, his tone carrying a playful edge.

You sighed, offering a gracious smile, "Thank you so much, Mr. Kim." Intent on continuing your quest to find your boss, you began to move away, but Mingyu unexpectedly grasped your arm, halting your departure. "I think we have something to discuss."

Tilting your head skeptically, you mumbled, "I don't think so," though your heart betrayed you with a subtle flutter. Mingyu leaned in, his hand tracing your left arm as he whispered, "Even you wear the same bracelet as that night." The revelation caught you off guard, and you instinctively took a step back, a rapid exhale betraying your flustered state.

A stroke of luck intervened as you caught sight of Seungcheol seated at his table with friends Jeonghan and Joshua. Turning to Mingyu, still playfully smiling, you seized the moment. "Let's talk tomorrow at lunch," you asserted before walking away, leaving behind a tantalizing air of mystery and a perplexed Kim Mingyu. The ballroom continued to buzz with anticipation, but your focus had shifted, promising a lunchtime rendezvous filled with unanswered questions and hidden intrigues.

*

Mingyu carefully placed your order on the table, his discomfort apparent as he kept a watchful eye on the surroundings—ever mindful of maintaining a low profile in the presence of college students. Taking your sandwich, you remarked, "No one knows you here," alluding to the anonymity offered by the casual crowd.

Sitting across from you, Mingyu sighed, his gaze fixated on you as you began to eat. A playful smile crept onto his cheeks as he teased, "Slow down, Seungcheol hyung must have starved you, right?"

You shook your head, replying, "I've been wanting this," prompting a chuckle from Mingyu.

While you effortlessly devoured your sandwich, you noticed Mingyu hadn't taken a single bite of his. A trace of guilt flickered across your face, leading you to apologize, "Sorry, is it not to your liking?" His soft laughter followed, leaving you puzzled.

"Why are you laughing?" you inquired, furrowing your brows.

Mingyu shook his head, "No, it's just... I like it," he confessed, his smile genuine.

Curiosity piqued, you casually asked, sipping your orange juice, "What do you like?"

His response caught you off guard, "I like how you're so casual when it's only the two of us."

The unexpected revelation caused you to halt mid-sip, setting the stage for a moment of candid connection amid the backdrop of a quiet lunchtime rendezvous. The air hung with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as you navigated the uncharted territory of personal interaction with Kim Mingyu.

"Never in my life did I think I would have the chance to talk to you until you approached me at the bar," Mingyu began, his words carrying a tinge of vulnerability. "We talked about a lot of things, right? I remembered them all. I also remember... Hmm... What happened next," he nervously confessed.

Your nod signaled acknowledgment, but you found yourself at a loss for words. Mingyu's next statement caught you off guard, "I want to know your feelings about me," he admitted, leaving you slightly taken aback.

Raising your brow, you responded almost whisperingly, "My feelings?" Mingyu nodded earnestly, revealing, "Because I don't resent everything that happened that night. On the contrary, I found it profound."

A pregnant pause hung in the air as you processed his unexpected confession. Finally, you let out a soft chuckle, breaking the tension, "I didn't expect this, Mr. Kim. I mean, it's not very much like how you are portrayed. Your image... is not very much sentimental like this."

Mingyu nodded, "I know, but this is who I am," he explained, his sincerity evident. You released a sigh, leaning back in your chair. Your gaze fixed on him, and you adjusted your posture before expressing, "I don't do romance, Mr. Kim. Honestly, I don't know how to do that. And you know how I'm almost married to my work as Mr. Choi's secretary. I—"

Mingyu quickly nodded, understanding the complexities of your professional life. "Yeah, I understand. I won't rush you. I just want to let you know about my feelings after that night. I'll wait for your answer; take your time," he interjected, cutting through your explanation to emphasize his genuine intention.

You nodded slowly, a quiet acknowledgment of his understanding. "Thanks..." you mumbled, your gratitude mingling with a sense of contemplation.

"And please," Mingyu paused, his eyes holding a plea, "don't avoid me from this time." The request hung in the air, underscoring the vulnerability of the moment.

The encounter with Mingyu left your thoughts in disarray, making it challenging to concentrate on your work. Even Seungcheol's calls failed to pull you out of the daydream that enveloped your mind. Concerned about your well-being after your recent collapse, Seungcheol insisted you leave on time, assuring you that Jun would take care of his needs.

Reluctantly, you took the bus home. As you walked from the bus stop to your shared apartment with Minseo, another sigh escaped your lips. The absence of Minseo for the next two months strangely saddened you, a departure from your usual contentment with solitude.

You never disliked the moments of solitude, relishing the times when you could come home and find Minseo absent. Cooking a delicious meal for her, anticipating her return around 9 while you were immersed in work preparations, and going to bed by 10 had become a comforting routine. However, the sudden longing for Minseo highlighted a void that even the familiarity of solitude couldn't fill.

Your phone rang, and a smile lit up your face when you saw Minseo's name on the caller ID. Greeting her with enthusiasm, you were met with Minseo's melodramatic tone, "What's up with your voice? You're not happy I'm calling you?"

Chuckling softly, you replied, "It's not like that. Just... tired."

Minseo, always quick with her teasing, inquired about the baby. Confused, you questioned, "What's with the baby?"

With an eye roll you could almost feel through the phone, Minseo clarified, "Your baby! The baby inside you... How are they doin'?"

"As tired as their mom," you playfully responded, earning a laugh from Minseo. She then delved into the topic of keeping the baby, referencing her suggestion, to get an abortion. Swiftly dismissing the idea, you explained, "No! I heard it's hurting and takes time to recover. I don't—"

Minseo interrupted with a humorous impersonation, "I don't have time, I have works to do. Bla-bla-bla..." Her words made you laugh.

Regarding the father, you admitted to talking to him but hesitated to share the news. Minseo expressed concern, urging you not to keep the situation from him. However, you confessed, "I just think I don't need him in the frame. You know what I mean."

Concerned, Minseo probed, "But are you gonna be okay with that?" A pregnant pause followed as you contemplated the question, questioning your own feelings about having the baby.

"I don't know. Should I go with your suggestion instead?" you asked, prompting Minseo's playful screams.

"I was just joking! But... I support whatever you decide, Y/n. Just tell me first," Minseo reassured.

As you arrived at your apartment building, you concluded the call, promising to keep Minseo updated. The weight of the decisions ahead lingered, leaving you to grapple with the uncertainty of the future.

*

Feeling unexpectedly unwell, you woke up with a fever four days later. Quickly, you informed Jun and Seungcheol about the situation through messages, indicating the possibility of taking a day off. Seungcheol, concerned for your well-being, immediately called and offered to take you to the doctor or send one to your house. Politely declining, you assured him that a paracetamol might alleviate the fever.

Throughout the day, you remained in bed, the passage of time marked by your fitful sleep. The darkness outside hinted at the advancing evening, but your fever persisted, accompanied by bouts of nausea. Realizing you hadn't eaten since last night's simple ramen, you mustered the strength to walk to the kitchen.

Dizziness accompanied every step as you prepared another pack of ramen on the stove. Approaching the dinner table where your phone lay, you noticed a barrage of notifications that had accumulated since you turned it off in the morning. Just as you contemplated checking them, a phone call interrupted, and it was Minseo on the line.

Weakly greeting Minseo, you sensed the surprise in her voice as she questioned your well-being. Admitting, "I can't reach you all day. You okay, Y/n?" you confessed, "No... I feel about to faint."

Minseo's voice filled with concern as she pressed for details, "Hey... What's wrong?" The line remained silent as she called out your name repeatedly, growing increasingly anxious.

The lack of response heightened Minseo's panic, a situation she dreaded when leaving you alone. Despite your usual resilience, your occasional bouts of sickness always managed to evoke worry in her. She understood the contrasts in your persona – the organized, straight, and ideal image you presented to the world, counterbalanced by the underlying quirks of your clumsiness and forgetfulness. It was these very qualities that fueled your meticulous note-taking and organizational skills, making you an exceptional secretary.

Minseo, feeling the urgency of the situation, contemplated making a crucial phone call. Aware that something dangerous might transpire if she remained passive, she considered potential contacts. Mr. Park, her father's driver, was quickly dismissed as he was occupied attending to her father. Mr. Seo, her mother's assistant, was also ruled out, as informing him would inevitably reach her mother, who was unaware of Minseo's current location in the States.

Her thoughts turned to her brother. Trusting him implicitly, Minseo decided to call him. Dialing his number, she anxiously waited, relieved when he picked up after only a moment. The connection established, she began to share the concerning situation unfolding with you.

A playful voice greeted Minseo's call, "What is it, Kim Minseo?"

Panicking, Minseo quickly explained, "Oppa, help me! My friend is sick at the moment. And I think she's collapsed in the middle of a phone call!"

There was a pause for seconds before her brother responded, "And then?"

"She's in my apartment; she's my roommate. Can you come and see her? I just wanna know if she's fine," Minseo requested, making a favor to her brother.

She heard him sigh, "Why don't you check her yourself?"

"I'm not in Korea! I'm in the States," Minseo forcefully admitted. "Don't tell anyone."

Curiosity piqued, her brother pressed, "Why are you there? Tell me first!"

Minseo sighed, "I'll tell you later. Please come to my apartment first. Please! Please..."

"Alright, send me the location and details," he finally agreed, the concern evident in his voice.

*

As Mingyu sighed after ending the call with his younger sister, he signaled his secretary to drive to her apartment first. In the car, he muttered, "She only calls me if she needs anything."

Observing the situation, Mr. Song inquired, "Is it your sister?" Mingyu nodded in confirmation.

"She wants me to check on her friend. I'm a busy person; why doesn't she ask one of her friends?" Mingyu found the request somewhat perplexing.

Deciding to comply, he turned to Mr. Song, "Can you accompany me, Mr. Song? I don't think it'll be appropriate if I'm the only one who goes into the apartment."

Fortunately, the drive took only 15 minutes, as Mingyu was in the nearby area. Once they arrived, Mingyu scrutinized the details his sister had sent, leading them to the 8th floor and apartment number 802. Entering the elevator, Mingyu and Mr. Song ascended to the designated floor.

Arriving on the intended floor, Mingyu and Mr. Song were met with an unexpected aroma of smoke that hung in the air. Mr. Song astutely noticed wisps of smoke escaping from the door of apartment 802.

"Mr. Kim, there's smoke from inside," he urgently alerted Mingyu.

Worried, Mingyu swiftly called Minseo, urgently seeking the passcode. "Is your friend cooking something? There's smoke from inside," he conveyed the developing situation to his sister.

After Mr. Song adeptly opened the door, Mingyu concluded the phone call and entered the apartment. Smoke engulfed them, prompting both Mingyu and Mr. Song to shield their mouths and noses. The room was shrouded in a haze as they cautiously proceeded further inside.

Reacting quickly, Mr. Song rushed to the intercom, activating the smoke detection features. A cascade of water descended from the ceiling, effectively extinguishing the smoke. Simultaneously, Mingyu focused on locating Minseo's friend, while Mr. Song skillfully handled the kitchen fire with an extinguisher.

In a moment of shocking revelation, Mingyu discovered a familiar figure lying weakly on the floor. The unexpected sight heightened the urgency of the situation.

Mingyu's heartbeat seemed to halt for a moment as he realized it was you lying weakly on the floor. Shock and concern painted his features as he swiftly assessed the situation.

"Y/n!" he exclaimed, his worry evident as he helped you navigate through the smoke-filled room. The urgency to get you to safety propelled Mingyu into action.

As the commotion in the apartment drew attention, assistance was summoned to the building. Mingyu carefully supported your weakened body, guiding you towards the paramedics who had arrived on the scene. The gravity of the situation was palpable, and Mingyu's focus remained steadfast on ensuring your well-being.

With a sense of urgency, Mingyu handed you over to the waiting paramedics, who quickly took charge, assessing your condition and providing the necessary care. The atmosphere around the apartment building buzzed with a blend of concern and the organized efforts of those responding to the emergency.

Mingyu, visibly distressed, trailed alongside the paramedics as they transported you to the hospital. Concern etched across his face, he couldn't shake off the worry that had gripped him since discovering you in the smoke-filled apartment.

Meanwhile, Mr. Song took it upon himself to retrieve some essentials for Mingyu. Understanding the need for a change of clothes, he swiftly headed to gather necessary items from Mingyu's residence.

At the hospital, Mingyu anxiously waited by your side as the medical team attended to your needs. The sterile environment of the emergency room seemed to amplify the tension in the air. Mingyu's mind raced with thoughts of your well-being, the unexpected turn of events leaving him grappling with a mixture of anxiety and a fervent hope for your recovery.

As the medical staff worked to stabilize you, Mingyu clung to the hope that the prompt medical attention would bring about positive results. The waiting room became a sanctuary of anticipation, each passing moment laden with the weight of uncertainty.

Mingyu, now clad in fresh and dry clothes, had made the call to Seungcheol, your boss, updating him about your condition. Seungcheol, concerned for his secretary, immediately rushed to the hospital.

In the interim, Mingyu instructed Mr. Song to go home, assuring him that he would wait for any updates on your condition. The hospital room became a temporary haven for Mingyu, a place where the weight of worry and the desire for your recovery lingered.

As Seungcheol entered the room, he looked at Mingyu, his face a mirror of concern. "How did you find her?" Seungcheol inquired, seeking details about the situation.

"My sister called for help; she's her roommate," Mingyu explained, still overwhelmed with the relevance of the events that had unfolded. The anticipation in the room heightened as they waited for the doctor to arrive and shed light on your condition. The air was thick with a sense of urgency and concern, Seungcheol's presence serving as a testament to the tight-knit nature of the professional relationships that had become entwined with personal care and worry.

The doctor entered the room, and a hushed silence fell upon Mingyu and Seungcheol, their eyes locked on the medical professional who held the key to understanding your condition. The doctor, with a composed demeanor, began to detail the situation, "Her lungs were filled with smoke, and we've cleared it. However, recovery will take time, and we recommend several medical check-ups to monitor her progress."

A solemn nod from Mingyu and Seungcheol acknowledged the gravity of the situation. However, the atmosphere shifted when the doctor broached the subject of your pregnancy. "The baby is fine," the doctor reassured, but then added, "Careful body maintenance is crucial, especially in the delicate first trimester, which poses potential risks."

Mingyu and Seungcheol exchanged a bewildered glance, the revelation about your pregnancy catching them off guard. The unspoken tension in the room was palpable, and the weight of unexpected responsibilities settled upon their shoulders.

Surprised by this new information, the doctor, unaware of the dynamics between Mingyu and Seungcheol, inquired about the father. The question hung in the air, adding a layer of complexity to an already intricate situation. "I apologize for having to announce the situation this way," the doctor offered, sensing the discomfort in the room.

As the doctor conducted a few more checks, a conversation ensued between Mingyu and Seungcheol, attempting to process the unforeseen turn of events. Mingyu's voice carried a mix of astonishment and concern, "I had no idea."

Seungcheol, still processing the information, responded with a solemn nod, "Me neither."

The doctor, having fulfilled their medical duties, left the room, leaving Mingyu and Seungcheol to grapple with the newfound realities.

"I don't know Y/n has boyfriend." Seungcheol said as he turned his head toward Mingyu. Meanwhile Mingyu only could stand still in silence. Contemplating everything that has happened.

*

"Yeah, she's fine. I promised I'll take care of her. Just make sure you tell Mom soon that you're not in Korea," Mingyu reassured his sister over the phone, updating her on your condition.

Mingyu settled onto the sofa in your room, patiently awaiting the moment you'd regain consciousness. The clock mercilessly ticked away, indicating the wee hours of the morning – 3 am. Fatigue tugged at him; Mr. Song and Seungcheol had returned home hours ago. Still, Mingyu couldn't bring himself to leave your side after discovering the truth about your condition – the possibility of you carrying his child.

As he sat there, a mix of concern and anticipation played across Mingyu's face, his fatigue overshadowed by a sense of responsibility and newfound realization. The room held a quiet tension, disrupted only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock.

Mingyu found himself reflecting on the recent conversation with Seungcheol regarding your love life. Seungcheol had candidly admitted that, despite working closely for nearly five years, you never divulged any details about a boyfriend or romantic partner. This revelation was particularly striking, considering your previous role as his father's secretary. Mingyu's thoughts were further compounded by your recent statement that you were not one for romance, leading him to consider the possibility that he might be the only one who had shared intimate moments with you.

A heavy sigh escaped Mingyu as he contemplated his own admission. If he were to be honest, his sentiments mirrored yours. As the CEO, the weight of significant responsibilities for the company and its staff often overwhelmed him. Despite his parents attempting to arrange matches with various conglomerate daughters, none had piqued his interest. Mingyu's sister, ever the worrier, had chosen a different path, steering clear of the family business to pursue a culinary career.

In the quiet of the room, Mingyu grappled with the complexities of his life. The burden of expectations, both familial and professional, weighed heavily on him. His fatigue was not only physical but also carried the weight of emotional fatigue, a longing for something more than the orchestrated connections and societal expectations that surrounded him.

The memory of that pivotal night at Joshua's party flooded back to him. Mingyu recalled the details vividly – you in a sleek black dress, the distinct order you placed at the bar, the subtle grace with which you caught the bartender's attention. And then, there was that moment when you turned your head towards him, inquiring with a simple yet impactful, "How's life, Mr. Kim?" It was a question that had lingered in Mingyu's mind, offering a glimpse of connection and a departure from the orchestrated rhythm of his existence.

Mingyu couldn't help but let out a chuckle, finding himself at a loss for words in response to a question he rarely encountered. "How's life?" he mused internally.

"I don't know, how's yours?" he finally replied to your query, intrigued by the unexpected turn of conversation.

You nonchalantly shrugged and took a sip of your orange juice. "Great... Have to deal with a lot of work. But that's how life's supposed to be, right?" you remarked casually, and Mingyu felt a surprising sense of ease in conversing with you.

As the dialogue unfolded, Mingyu discovered a different side to you. You, who had garnered popularity among his friends, received commendation from Seungcheol for your efficiency as a secretary. Jeonghan and Seokmin, both directors in Seungcheol's company, couldn't stop praising your appearance. To them, it seemed like a waste for someone with your looks to be confined to the role of a secretary. Mingyu, too, was now realizing this as he observed the expression on your face while you responded to the questions he posed. Your answers resonated with him, and the realization sparked a connection that transcended the superficiality of social expectations.

Mingyu's alcohol tolerance had always been high, and he vividly recalled urging you to step outside for some fresh air that night. Amidst the ambient glow near the pool and beneath a palm tree, he found himself whispering compliments about your striking appearance. That innocent exchange led to a shared first kiss, and what began with a kiss soon escalated into something more dangerously intimate. Mingyu, fueled by alcohol, surrendered to the lack of control, embracing the pleasure rather than resenting it. In the haze of the night, he anticipated more with you.

However, the harsh light of morning revealed a stark reality – he was left alone. Cold and isolated, Mingyu attempted to reach out, but you remained elusive, even through Mr. Song. He sought you out at Seungcheol's company, only to discover that you were avoiding him. It wasn't until Wonwoo's birthday that he could finally confront you.

In the midst of that confrontation, Mingyu grappled with unexpected emotions. It dawned on him that what he felt for you transcended the physical, extending beyond mere desire. Through your words, your thoughts, and the passionate expression of your opinions that night, Mingyu realized he had encountered a connection that went beyond the surface – a romantic sentiment.

As the weight of the situation pressed on him, Mingyu confronted a profound question. Was it a sin to consider that the baby you were carrying might be his? The uncertainty hung in the air, a heavy burden that only intensified the emotional turbulence within Mingyu.

"You're awake," Mingyu uttered softly as you slowly opened your eyes, a series of coughs escaping you. Concern etched across his face, Mingyu promptly summoned the doctor to attend to your needs. With a watchful eye, he observed your reactions as the doctor provided an explanation of your condition. A glimmer of hope flickered in Mingyu's gaze when your eyes briefly met his during the mention of your baby's condition.

Once the doctor concluded their visit, Mingyu pulled a chair close to your bedside. "How's your feeling?" he inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You released a heavy sigh before confessing, "I was cooking ramen." Mingyu nodded in acknowledgment, understanding the mundane details that led to your current state. "And it burned your apartment as you collapsed. Your fever has gone down though," he added, checking your temperature and tenderly placing his hand on your forehead.

"Mr. Kim, please stop," you urged, puzzled by the revelation that Mingyu was the one who saved you and brought you to the hospital in the nick of time. "How do you even know my address?" confusion laced your inquiry.

Mingyu, lips tightened, began to explain, "Kim Minseo called me to help his friend. She's... my sister." His nervous explanation hung in the air, leaving a palpable tension as he struggled to find the right words.

A silent gasp escaped you as you connected the dots, realizing the familial connection between Mingyu and your friend Minseo. Mingyu's gaze scrutinized your expression before delicately broaching the topic of the baby. "Do you know that you're expecting?" he cautiously inquired, and you nodded in confirmation.

"A week ago. A day before Mr. Jeon's birthday party," you revealed, answering Mingyu's unspoken question.

Mingyu took a deep breath, "is it mine?" He finally asked.

A prolonged silence hung in the air as you gazed into Mingyu's eyes. The hospital room seemed to hold its breath, the only audible sounds being the hum of medical equipment and distant footsteps. Breaking the stillness, you shook your head quickly and uttered, "It's mine," diverting your eyes elsewhere.

Mingyu released a heavy exhale, his confusion palpable. "It's mine, right?" he pressed again, seeking confirmation and clarity.

In response, you gently urged him to leave. "You should go, Mr. Kim. You must be exhausted, and you have work this morning. Thank you for your kindness," you murmured, closing your eyes as if to feign rest.

*

As you were discharged from the hospital, a familiar face caught your attention. Wi Seunghyun, your mother's secretary, gestured for you to join him in the waiting car. In silence, you complied, feeling the weight of the gaze that had been following you for months now. The realization of the observer's identity finally dawned on you.

Seunghyun drove you to your parent's house, the journey feeling interminable. Exhaustion clung to you, but nervous anticipation kept your eyes wide open. The looming entrance into the house held the promise of confrontations and revelations. You couldn't help but wonder about your mother's reaction upon learning about your condition.

Upon entering the family room, Seunghyun placed your hospital bag as your mother rose from her seat. Instead of the expected embrace that usually accompanied such news, a hard slap resonated through the room, nearly sending you to the floor. The sting of the unexpected physical blow mirrored the emotional shock of your mother's harsh response, creating a tense and disheartening atmosphere.

"How could you be more stupid, Ji Y/n? Getting pregnant before married? Are you some kind of whore?" Your mother, Sung Yaeun, delivered a harsh commentary on your situation, the biting words cutting through the air after months of not seeing each other.

"You've burned your apartment, gone homeless, and pregnant. You only come home every time you're in trouble," she continued, her words carrying a tone of disappointment and frustration as she moved away to sit on the sofa.

"Mr. Wi, please lock her in her room. Make sure no one could meet her unless by my instruction," she commanded, and without hesitation, Mr. Wi complied, tightening his grip on your arm. As your mother's orders were executed, you found yourself silently following Mr. Wi to your room, watching as you were locked in from the outside, isolated in the familiar yet unwelcoming confines of your old room.

The weight of your mother's harsh words and the physical confinement left you frozen, grappling with the harsh reality of your current predicament. The room, once a place of solace, now felt like a prison, amplifying the emotional turmoil within you.

Returning to this room after almost 10 years, you sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and sorrow escaping you as your body leaned against the door. The realization of the gravity of the situation hit you, and silent tears streamed down your face.

The memories of the last time you were in this house surfaced – the day your father passed away. Locked away and denied the chance to bid your father farewell, you had been blamed for his death by your mother. This confinement, the echoes of past injustices, resonated with the pain you thought you had left behind.

The recollection of being locked away and unjustly accused of your father's death brought forth a flood of emotions. Despite the passing years, the wounds remained fresh. The recognition that you didn't deserve the treatment meted out by your mother – the isolation, the starvation – washed over you. It wasn't the first time you had experienced being locked away, but now, you understood you didn't deserve it.

Escaping to your former nanny's house had been your refuge, a sanctuary where you completed your education and found a way to stand on your own. Working as Seungcheol's dad's secretary marked a turning point, allowing you to secure your own place and break free from the shackles of your past. Yet, the return to this house served as a stark reminder of the pain you had endured and the strength it took to overcome it.

From childhood, you grappled with the perplexing mystery of your mother's disdain. Her treatment was marked by physical abuse, emotional neglect, and an unsettling abandonment of your presence. Your father, blinded by allegiance, justified her actions under the guise of it being for your own good. Yet, amidst the turmoil, you slowly comprehended that love was an elusive sentiment within the confines of your home. The only solace you found was in the embrace of your nanny, Gam Mijoo, who became the beacon of warmth and care you craved.

As time unfolded, you began treating Mijoo as a surrogate parent, finding the love and nurturing that had eluded you elsewhere. However, the cruel hands of fate intervened when she passed away during your college years, succumbing to a heart attack.

Locked away in your childhood home, memories of Mijoo's comforting presence fueled your resilience. Despite the pain, you vowed to provide a different life for your unborn child, one filled with love and understanding.

*

A week had passed, and Mingyu found himself seated in front of his parents after a month, attempting to salvage their weekly dinners that had turned sporadic due to his demanding schedule. Amidst the shared meal, his father dropped an unexpected bombshell, leaving not only Mingyu but also his mother visibly stunned.

Mingyu's mother's voice rose to an uncharacteristic pitch, "What?!"

"Daeyoung suddenly came and congratulated me for your engagement. So, I was wondering if you finally found a girl you want to marry," his father revealed, triggering a heavy sigh from Mingyu. Lee Jaewook, the scoundrel.

The air thickened with tension as Mingyu grappled with the unforeseen revelation, and a mixture of disbelief and frustration played across his mother's face.

"So the woman from the article weeks ago. It was her? Your fiancée?" Mingyu's mother suddenly bombarded him with questions, referring to a photo taken while Mingyu was escorting you to his hotel room on the night of Joshua's birthday. Fortunately, they had blurred your face, only his was visible.

"Let's not talk about that," Mingyu said, attempting to halt his parents' interrogation.

His mother scoffed, "Why? We should talk about this! How dare you have an engagement without involving us. Is that a trend among youth nowadays?" Mingyu's father nodded in agreement, intensifying Mingyu's fatigue as he grappled with what response to give his parents.

"So, who's the girl? When can we meet her?" His father asked with curiosity, leaning in for answers.

Mingyu, caught off guard, shrugged, hesitating to provide an immediate response. "Answer your father, Kim Mingyu," urged his mother, her tone demanding clarity.

Sighing, Mingyu mumbled, "She's busy," buying himself time to consider his next words.

Mingyu's mother's eyes sparkled with curiosity, "Is she finishing her study abroad so that she can't meet us as soon as possible?" she guessed, eager for details. However, Mingyu shook his head, revealing a different truth.

"She's Seungcheol's secretary," Mingyu confessed, the weight of the revelation settling in the room.

Mingyu's father furrowed his brows, questioning, "You're in a relationship with a subordinate? Is she from a conglomerate?" The inquiry sent a wave of nervous tension through Mingyu as he grappled with the potential implications of his choices.

Mingyu shook his head, trying to maintain a facade of calmness. "She's an ordinary staff," he stated, a hint of defiance in his voice.

His mother gasped, "No! Your grandfather won't let you become the heir if you don't marry a conglomerate," she mumbled, a sense of family expectations weighing heavily on the conversation.

Rolling his eyes, Mingyu asserted, "I won't marry a spoiled conglomerate daughter," expressing his firm stance.

The discussion continued, with Mingyu's mother expressing her desire for him to marry someone he truly wanted. However, in the midst of their conversation, a sudden interruption occurred as Mingyu's father's secretary approached, presenting something on his screen. All eyes shifted to Mingyu, who was in the midst of his dinner.

"What?" Mingyu inquired, slightly irritated.

His father, removing his glasses and placing them on the dinner table, declared, "Kim Mingyu, I want you to bring her this weekend." A pregnant pause filled the air.

The weight of those words hit Mingyu like a sudden storm. Shocked and unable to comprehend what he had just heard, he rose from his seat and walked away from the dinner table. Mingyu hastily grabbed his phone, bombarded with messages from his secretary and friends. The notifications revealed a shocking headline: 'Kim Mingyu Seen in Hospital, Mysterious Girl Turns Out to be a Fiancée.' The revelation sent a wave of disbelief and confusion through Mingyu's already tumultuous evening.

Mingyu hurriedly made his way to his apartment, where he and Mr. Song had agreed to meet. Just as he entered, his phone rang, and Seungcheol's name flashed on the screen. Bracing himself, he answered, "I can explain."

A storm of rage and fury erupted from Seungcheol's voice, "How dare you touch my secretary!"

Concerned about your well-being, Mingyu quickly inquired, "Are you with her, hyung?" Hoping you were safe and in the company of Seungcheol.

Seungcheol's hum echoed through the phone, "In fact, she's been living in my house for almost a week."

Mingyu felt a stab of surprise, almost losing his composure at the unexpected revelation. "Why is she in your house?" he questioned, trying to make sense of the situation.

Seungcheol explained calmly, "You remember her apartment was burnt? It takes time to get it done. So she's living here temporarily. My girlfriend didn't mind either."

Sighing in relief, Mingyu acknowledged, "Alright, I'll be there in twenty, hyung." He ended the call, immediately contacting Mr. Song to redirect him to Seungcheol's place. As Mingyu navigated the complexities of the unfolding events, emotions ranging from relief to confusion swirled within him.

"She's in her room with Nari," Seungcheol mentioned, referring to his girlfriend. "However, I want to have a talk with you first," he continued, gesturing for Mingyu to sit on his couch.

As they settled into an uneasy silence, Seungcheol voiced the thought lingering in the air, "So, you two have an affair that I don't know," his words carried a mix of accusation and confusion, leaving Mingyu grappling for an adequate explanation.

Seungcheol's gaze bore into Mingyu, probing for answers, "Is she the girl in the recent articles?"

Mingyu, feeling the weight of truth, nodded, adding, "Also the one you've seen previously."

Curiosity etched Seungcheol's face as he asked, "How long have you two been seeing each other?"

Nervously shaking his head, Mingyu replied, "We're not seeing each other. It just happened... But I truly care for her."

Seungcheol observed Mingyu's sincerity before delivering a revelation that added another layer of complexity, "I can see... But you know, Y/n's situation is complicated. She's having a baby."

Mingyu nodded, acknowledging the weight of the situation. "I actually think... it's mine," he confessed, revealing the depth of his realization.

Seungcheol, unfazed but understanding, remarked, "Kinda expected it, seeing how shocked you were when the doctor revealed it."

"However," Seungcheol continued, his frustration evident, "I don't think it's time for romance and all. The situation has become so complicated." He wiped his face, grappling with the complexities ahead.

Exhaling heavily, Mingyu leaned on the sofa, admitting, "I told my parents that we're both engaged. And they want to meet us this weekend."

Seungcheol silently gasped, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and resignation. "Kim Mingyu," he sighed, closing his eyes, "you know how to make things even more complicated." The tangled web of emotions and circumstances unfolded, leaving both men entangled in a situation neither had anticipated.

*

After a lengthy discussion with Mingyu, you concluded that it would be better to temporarily live with him rather than in Seungcheol's house. Despite Seungcheol being not only a great boss but also a good friend, you didn't want to impose on him and his girlfriend any further. Mingyu had shared his parents' response to the recent article, urging you to attend the upcoming dinner as his fiancée to maintain a semblance of normalcy. You agreed, as long as your identity remained private and Mingyu handled the situation.

However, there was one piece of shocking news for Mingyu. In reality, you were the heir of JIS Corp, a global automotive company based in South Korea. Your father, Ji Seunggi, was a former president of JIS Corp before it transitioned to being managed by a board vote after his passing. Meanwhile, your mother currently held the position of CEO within the company. The revelation left Mingyu puzzled and intrigued.

As Mingyu processed this unexpected disclosure, the question lingered in the air: why did you decide to work with Seungcheol despite your prominent family background?

"I didn't know you were Minseo's roommate," Mingyu admitted as you both drove to his place.

Humming, you responded, "I didn't know you were Minseo's brother." The revelation about your family backgrounds hadn't been a topic of discussion between you and Minseo, both preferring to keep a low profile regarding your respective family names.

Mingyu recalled a recent phone call with his sister, "She called me to help you that night... She's technically begging."

You sighed, acknowledging Minseo's sometimes bothersome but well-intentioned nature, "Yeah, she can be a bit—"

Mingyu cut in with a soft chuckle, "I know what you mean, darling."

Blinking at the unexpected pet name, you couldn't help but wonder, "Darling?" His choice of endearment added a surprising layer to the conversation, leaving you slightly taken aback.

You cleared your throat and asked, "Is your place far?" Mingyu shook his head.

"Not that far. It's pretty close to my company building and Choi Group. Do you drive to work?" Mingyu inquired.

"No," you confessed, surprising him. "Surprisingly, I couldn't drive."

Mingyu's brows raised, "Really? Then who drives for you and Seungcheol hyung?"

"Mostly, Mr. Won," you mentioned Seungcheol's driver. "But sometimes Seungcheol drove himself."

Mingyu smiled, "It's the first time I heard you call hyung by his name. It was always Mr. Choi."

You sighed, "I know, it's still awkward for me to change it. I've been calling him Mr. Choi for the past 5 years. He asked me, though, so I can't really refuse." You explained your reason to Mingyu.

"How about calling me Mingyu? Is it gonna be burdensome for you?"

You tilted your head, unsure. "I don't know."

Mingyu smirked, "Or do you have anything in your mind? Babe? Honey? Yeobo?" He joked, and you sighed loudly.

"Mingyu," you said carefully, a wide grin appearing on Mingyu's face.

"That's better than Mr. Kim," Mingyu remarked, savoring the shift in familiarity between you two.

Once you two arrived at his place, Mingyu immediately offered any assistance as you settled onto the couch. He took the time to give you a brief tour of his clean and organized house, explaining the available guest room for you.

"You could put your stuff and clothes here," he suggested, pointing to a section in his closet connected to his home office.

As you settled in, Mingyu inquired about cooking, to which you nodded hesitantly, not wanting to impose on him further. Surprisingly, he suggested, "Me too. But we're out of ingredients. Do you mind going to the grocery store tomorrow?"

"Sure," you agreed, appreciating his willingness to share responsibilities.

Mingyu bit his lip, hesitating before revealing a shelf in his kitchen stocked with pregnancy products—from formula to vitamins and snacks. "I asked my secretary to have this ready for you... just in case you need them," he explained.

Looking at the products, you shifted your gaze to Mingyu and whispered, "Thanks." His hand reached for yours on the kitchen island, intertwining fingers. "Just want the best for the baby," he mumbled, his genuine concern evident.

Watching your hands together, you found a sense of security around Mingyu. The revelation escaped your lips, "Our baby." The words surprised both of you, Mingyu's eyes meeting yours at the unexpected declaration.

"O-our? Yeah, our baby," Mingyu stammered, taken aback by your words. The truth revealed in that moment opened a new chapter, catching both of you off guard but bringing a genuine connection to the forefront.

In the warm glow of Mingyu's living room, a vulnerable question hung in the air. "Are you accepting my feelings, Y/n?" Mingyu courageously asked, his heart brimming with emotions that he struggled to put into words. Happiness? Love? Tonight had certainly stirred something profound within him.

Rather than answering immediately, you took a slow and hesitant step towards him. With arms outstretched, you embraced his torso, your voice barely audible as you mumbled, "Please take care of me." Mingyu's chest tightened with the rapid beating of his heart, mirroring your vulnerability. His hands mirrored yours, enveloping your body in a reassuring embrace.

"Let's stay like this for a moment, okay?" Mingyu whispered, creating an atmosphere of quiet intimacy, where unspoken emotions lingered in the air.

In that tender moment, Mingyu's soothing words broke the silence, "You're doing great, Y/n... You're doing so well." The sincerity in his compliment was palpable, marking the first time you felt a genuine acknowledgment of your efforts and emotions. The atmosphere shifted into one of mutual understanding and acceptance, as the connection between you two deepened in the stillness of the room.

*

The weight of suffocating thoughts pulled you from your sleep, haunted by the lingering fear of a repeat incident since the last apartment fire. Midnight's dimness cast a soft glow as you rose from your bed, craving solace in a sip of water. A leak of light drew your attention to Mingyu's home office – was he still working?

The desire for something more than water surfaced, remembering the provisions Mingyu had prepared. As you opened the shelf, searching for a glass, a realization struck – there were none in sight. An unexpected arm reaching for a higher shelf startled you.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu said, aware of his sudden movement. He handed you a glass, taking a step back as you proceeded to make yourself a comforting glass of milk.

"You're still working at this hour?" you asked Mingyu, breaking the silence that lingered in the dimly lit room.

Mingyu shrugged, "Just finishing some paperwork," he explained.

Turning towards him, you offered, "Need help?" anticipating the weight of late-night tasks.

Mingyu chuckled, "I appreciate it, but no thanks. I couldn't pay you overtime." He joked, acknowledging the unconventional hour – 2 in the morning.

Laughing softly, you reassured him, "Seungcheol pays me enough. Just take it as a rent payment."

Mingyu shook his head, refusing the suggestion, "I should ask for those rent payments for something else."

Curious, you asked, "What do you mean?" with a chuckle.

Mingyu playfully suggested, "Maybe a kiss? Or..." leaving the sentence open-ended.

Rolling your eyes, you responded, "Shut up," as you finished making your milk and settled onto the counter.

Mingyu followed you to the counter, his arms unconsciously creating a barricade as he stood beside you. "How's your everyday life look like?" he asked, breaking the quietude of the night.

Sipping on your milk, you shared, "It's pretty basic. Waking up, having breakfast that I prepared the night before. I walk to the bus station, grab breakfast and coffee for Seungcheol on the way to the office. After work, if I'm too tired, I'll take a cab. Sometimes, Mr. Won drives me home too."

"Sometimes I think about learning to drive, but I'm just too afraid," you admitted.

Mingyu nodded, his mind drifting to a shocking news from 15 years ago. "My father died in a car accident," you revealed, watching his face as you shared such a deeply personal and traumatic piece of information. "I was with him, in the car." The weight of the revelation lingered, creating an unspoken connection between you and Mingyu in the quiet of the night.

Mingyu let out a heavy breath slowly. His arms raised to embrace you, "I'm glad you're safe," he said, tightening the hug. In that quiet moment, the weight of past fears and unspoken pain became a bridge, connecting you and Mingyu in the comfort of the present.

*

Dear diary,

Today marks the beginning of my second year of Senior High School. I'm grateful that Minseo and I are in the same class again this year. I don't know how I would survive high school without Minseo. Although I've befriended everyone, Minseo has been a pillar of support for me since the last time 'she' taunted me.

Minseo confided in me that she likes Taehyung, a boy who sits in front of her and enjoys listening to music with headphones. She mentioned they will have a group project after school, and if Taehyung doesn't ask her out, she plans to make the first move. Minseo asked me if there's anyone I'm interested in within our class or even in the entire school. She seemed surprised when I said no. How could someone not liking anyone yet be considered weird? Perhaps it's because my standards are as high as my father's. Speaking of my father, he's the greatest man I've ever known. However, I couldn't just reveal to Minseo that my father was the President of JIS Corp, could I?

I miss my father.

**

Dear diary,

Today, after visiting my therapist, she prescribed me sleeping pills in case nightmares return. Meanwhile, Minseo informed me that she dropped out of her business major in college, and she seems genuinely happy about it. I'm relieved she's finally able to choose her own path. I wonder if her parents reacted as negatively as mine did.

When was the last time I saw 'her'? Perhaps a year ago, at my father's memorial. She questioned my presence there, as if I weren't part of the family. I chose not to engage with her, following my therapist's advice: block those who hurt you and prevent you from loving yourself.

What is love anyway? I've forgotten its meaning since 'she' did what she did. I wonder if I'll ever experience love again. It's difficult to develop an interest in anyone.

Continue to part 2

[stardewstardropthoughts]

How about the farmer and bachelor hiding in a small place. Like they are hips and chest pressed against each other. The farmer doesn't noticed but the bachelor is going wild over the limit space between them. You can make it nsfw I don't mind! :)

This took me forever to get to I’m so sorry! Also these are mostly just lewd as opposed to like whole nsfw but Sebastian and Alex’s got full nsfw 😂

Content warnings: mostly gender neutral reader except Sebastian’s is afab reader, reader calls Sebastian daddy once, Theyer long as hell, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE

Small spaces but big opportunities with the bachelors

Shane:

He wanted to come to the mines with you, mostly out of curiosity but also because he wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything to dangerous

Thankfully the level that you had gone to didn’t have to many monsters on it and while he still thought that maybe it wasn’t the best place, he could see the appeal

At least until you both fell into a kinda deep very narrow pit

He landed flat on his ass and you landed unceremoniously on his lap, very much straddling him

After making sure neither of you were seriously injured you began to look around

“How on earth are we gonna get out of this? Does this happen to you often in the mines?”

Shane’s very concerned and trying very hard to ignore your chest being almost in his face

“Well no, I mean the tv said I’d have bad luck today but I didn’t think anything of it!”

Shane stares at you blankly for a moment “the tv said…okay we can unpack that later, for now we should figure this out”

He tried to shift around a bit but quickly stopped as the friction of your body rubbing against the crotch of his pants caught him off guard, thank god it’s a little dark and you can’t see the red now painting his face

He’s got his hands resting on your thighs, you try shifting around to see if you can maybe stand up but his grip tightens and you could almost swear he moaned a little bit

“You okay? You said you weren’t hurt! What hurts? Do you need a health elixir? I have extra in my bag”

“No, no sweetheart that’s not it, I’m not hurt just, fuck”

You just noticed the bulge straining against his shorts and pressing against your inner thigh

“Oh” you hadn’t noticed until now that he had gotten hard

“Fuck I’m so sorry I-“ he got cut off as you ground down against him

“Shit sweetheart, you sure you wanna start this right now?” He’s practically growling out his words with how gravely and husky his voice is currently

“Never been more sure, sir”

He has a sir kink, fight me on it

He tightens his grip on your hips to help you grind against him while he smashes his lips against yours in a very heated kiss

Harvey:

You were in the tiny medical closet at his clinic looking for some gauze he had asked you to grab for him so he could restock the drawer

It was taking a moment though so he came to check on you and ultimately the door accidentally shut behind him

It locks from the outside automatically

Harvey is now chest pressed to your back due to the confined space in the closet, hardly enough room for you to try and turn around

“Well hey there doc, whatcha need?”

“The doors locked and maru doesn’t get here for another hour, this wasn’t supposed to happen”

He’s trying not to focus on how warm you feel pressed against him, how perfectly your body fits against his, and how the sudden proximity has his dick stirring in his pants

You’re squinting to see in the dark closet and all but have to stand on your tippy toes to read if the label in front of you reads gauze

“Just as well because this feels like a lost cause, how do you find anything in here?”

Your ass brushes against the growing bulge in his pants and he has to stifle a groan at the contact

“We can find it later, just stay still please”

He’s sounds strained, and then you can feel it pressing into your back

“Harvey, are you hard right now?”

This mans spilling apologies from his lips so quickly

“I’m so sorry this was never meant to happen your just very pretty and being stuck in the little closet with you isn’t helping and-“

You cut him off by bringing a hand around your back and gently grabbing his bulge

“I don’t mind, gives us something to do in the meantime” you would wink at him but you arnt facing him and the rooms dark

“I- are you sure? I want this but I need to know you want this as well”

You’ve been pining after the doctor for like a year and a bit at this point so of-course you want this

“Yes I want this Harvey, touch me, please”

How could he say no when you ask so politely

Sam:

Not so much trapped in a closet together as it is playing seven minutes in heaven at a party Abigale was throwing

You picked his name out of a hat and then got promptly shoved into a very small closet with him

Chest to chest, Harley enough space to breath without feeling his heart beat against you

“We uh, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to”

He’s always considerate of your comfort

“Time starts now! Have fun~” you could hear Abigail’s voice fading away as she walked back down the hallway

“Sooooooooooo, think there’s a light in here orrrrr we just gonna make out in the dark?”

You meant to ease the tension with a little joke but god do you wanna kiss him

He’s taking the dive, hands on either side of your face as he presses his lips to yours

With only a little struggle in the confined space you managed to wrap your arms around his neck

Soon he’s trailing kisses down your neck, leaving little bites here and there just so he can hear the way you try not to whine

Your hands down the front of his jeans slowly stroking him

“Fuck sweetheart, wish we had more time. Wanna take this to your place?”

Yes you do in-fact want to take this to your place

Which is just as well because Abigale is knocking on the closet door to tell you your times up and that you both better have pants on

Elliott:

Had he meant to be stuck in a small crevice in the forest with the farmer directly underneath him? No

But his little outings don’t seem to want to go to plan these days

He does however, appreciate the view of you, underneath him red faced as he tries to find a way to get up that doesn’t involve accidentally standing on you

“Must be exhausting holding yourself up like that, you can lay down I don’t mind a human weighted blanket”

God your adorable

Only lets some of his weight rest on you

“Well, this isn’t the best circumstances but even so you still look absolutely ravishing”

Meant that to be an inside thought but alas, it became an outward thought. He wishes lightning would strike him if that didn’t mean you would also be in harms way

“Well your not half bad yourself handsome, lemme just”

You gently pull his hair back into a ponytail with a hair elastic you keep on your wrist for him

That’s all he needs to lose composure, soon enough y’all are making out in the crevice

Wondering hands and gentle nips across your neck are enough to get small gasps out of you

God you sound amazing he thinks

But he’s not about to bed you in a hole in the ground, he’s more romantic then that

But the moment y’all get out and head back to his beach shack?

Soft gasps turn to moans, hushed whispers turn to loving praises, wondering hands stray further beyond the elastic of your underwear as he shows you just how good he can be with his hands

Sebastian:

You and him went swimming, despite his dislike of the activity he was always willing to go with you

You had wanted to explore a little cave like opening in the stone of the mountains near the lake and he came with you to make sure your good

And that’s how you end up here, stuck pressed against each other in your swimsuits, stuck between two particularly close stone walls

Sebastian’s trying to look anywhere but at you to avoid popping the most awkward boner in existence

“Well this is less then ideal, sorry Sebastian I didn’t think we would get stuck”

You feel a bit bad since you know he’s probably pretty uncomfortable right now

“Th-that’s okay, not your fault”

He has one hand behind your head so you don’t accidentally smack it on the hard rocks, his other hand is on your waist because it felt right to place it there

“Well, atleast the suns setting so you won’t get burnt”

“And we’re basically skin to skin so we probably won’t freeze”

He tried to lighten the mood a bit, it worked since you let out an airy laugh

“Could be worse, atleast I get the hot emo boy to keep me company”

Now he’s blushing, from chest to forehead just red

“You think I’m hot?”

Definitely had a voice crack in that statement but you ignore it much to his prides pleasure

“Absolutely, hottest guy in town”

Your trying to kill him he’s convinced but atleast he’ll die happy

“Fuck baby you can’t just say shit like that while pressed against me”

You can feel his erection pressing into your stomach

“Hmmmmmm maybe I’m prepared for the consequences”

The hand that was on your waist gently wraps around your neck as he pulls you into a heated kiss, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth while you gasp against him

You manage to bring your legs up enough to sort of trap his hips against yours as you grind against him

He moans against your lips before pulling back to trail kisses down your neck, leaving a few hickeys on whatever spots seem particularly sensitive

Meanwhile you’ve pulled his cock out of his swim shorts and lined him up with your cunt, gently rubbing the head through your folds for a moment before grinding your hips down just enough to sheath him inside

“Fuck, so fucking tight around me baby”

You whine into his skin as you hide your face into his neck, he’s gently thrusting into you as much as the little space will allow him to do

One of his hands travels between your body’s to start rubbing little circles on your clit while you fist your hands into his hair

“Shit seb, feels so fucking good”

He whines quietly at your praise as he can feel the knot forming in his stomach, he’s close to cumming but thankfully so are you

“Not gonna last much longer baby, cum with me, yeah? Think you can be a good girl and cum with daddy?”

Your nodding frantically as you start to spasm around him, milking his cock for all its worth

He slams his hips into you once more as deep as he can before filling your warm walls with his cum

Somehow all the movement you guys have done has wedged you free, no longer stuck in a tight spot your heading back to his place for round two

Alex:

You and Alex were exploring the deep woods together because he wanted to know what types of things you do in your day to day

He was not expecting the woods to be full of slimes trying to kill you but ya know, it’s always an adventure with the farmer

That’s how you end up in a small cave pressed against each other while you patch up a small wound on his thigh

“You okay? Your being pretty quiet up there”

He’s trying not to focus on how close to his dick your hands are so he doesn’t get hard

It’s not working very well

“I’m fine, just a little scrape I’m sure it’s okay”

“Yeah but it’s better to take care of it now, don’t want it to get infected”

He knows your right but also your hands brushed by his cock and now he’s got a semi

And it’s hard not to notice especially when it twitches as your hands brush over it again

“Baby, sweetheart, love please, you gotta know what your doing to me”

Your feigning innocence because it’s a little entertaining watching him be so flustered

“Hmmmm i should make sure your not injured anywhere else”

Your hands are on the buttons to his jeans looking at him for permission to pull them down

He knows the game your playing, so he lets you

You’ve got his cock out and your gently stroking your hands up and down his shaft, adjusting the pressure to what gets the best reaction out of him

“Oh fuck sweetheart that’s so good”

He’s putty in your hands

You decide to go for double kill and gently lower your mouth on the tip, sucking lightly while you stroke his shaft

He’s moaning loudly now, one hand in your hair to start bobbing you up and down on his cock

“Shiittt baby gonna lemme cum down your throat yeah? Please”

How could you say no to such a nice request

You relax your throat as best you can and take his whole cock into your mouth at once, he’s cumming in seconds

You pull back and swallow as you smile up at him

He needs like ten minutes to recover but he’s returning the favour twice over

[eraserheadswatching]

Izuku: Dad, I talk to ghosts

Aizawa: so, you aren't just talking to Hagakure when I find you out past curfew?

Izuku: no, I'm talking to dead people. One of them looks like Kacchan and he keeps standing right next to him to freak me out and it's not nice and all of them need tharapy.

Aizawa; why do they need tharapy?

Izuku: one of them became a hermit and lived in the woods, and the rest of them were murdered by All for One.

Aizawa: *speechless* how have you lived with them?

Izuku: starts crying

(I don't know if you could bounce some ideas off of this but I appreciate the quotes you do. I think talking to ghosts in front of people is extremely funny especially when it's your adopted dad.)

(okay first off thank you for this omg! I'm crying but I have something in my drafts that's something like this that I wanna turn into a story so I might take some of this as inspo but! onwards to the qoute!)

aizawa : Oh shit uh! don't cry? idk? uh?

Nana Shimura : dahm he's bad at comfort isn't he?

izuku still sobbing : Hes trying his hardest nana!

aizawa : WHAT???

Izuku : one of the ghosts!

aizawa : I'm so confused and concerned for your health right now.

one for all users threw izuku : haha mood!

aizawa :OH WHAT THE FUCK HELLO?!

izuku still crying : that was them!

aizawa : uh okay uh right so my son talks to dead people okay cool cool I can deal with this.... WAIT IS THIS WHY YOUR ALWAYS FREZZING TO THE TOUCH????

izuku wiping his eyes : mhm they're clingy! it gets cold when they hug me or be around me rather then in my mind!

aizawa in shock : i need to sit down. I adopted one child but got.... how many?

izuku :... 7 and a half...

aizawa nodding : I adopted one child and got 7 and a half dead people for free.... whag type of deal is this?

izuku laughing a little : you and me both. I thought I was just getting a quirk but I got funky ghosts and 7 more quirks!

aizawa : i need a drink to even think about prosessing this.

one for all users threw izuku : our bad sir if it helps we were all heros and vigilantes..... except two of us

aizawa : Oh.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #32

32. THE NETHERLANDS Joost Klein - "Europapa" 26th place (Disqualified)

Decade ranking: 120/153 [Above Ochman, below Andrew Lambrou]

Yeah, #NotForMe. Don't like the blue chicken, don't like the awful murine clickbait faces, don't like how he tried appropriating Käärijä's legacy for his own benefit. In fact, there's a lot I don't like about Joost Klein. Get used to it. Feelings are mixed but they are trending towards the NEGATIVE.

The face of a man I want to trap inside a garbage truck.

What is funny to me though, is that I certainly could have liked "Europapa" if the Dutch hadn't made certain decisions. I have to remain honest. My ranking, my rules, my lack of taste. It didn't work for me.

The song's not without merit though. It's a fun eurodance number at a glance. "Europapa" works best when you hear it live after a few drinks and blurt along with its lyrics. It's an EXCELLENT concert and streaming entry, whipping up a good time out of thin air with few pretences.

As a Eurovision entry though... eh. It tried to be a lot of other things: A tribute to his dead parents, an introspective unspooling of his mental health, a spoof, a meme, a middle finger to society, like all at once? It has that Subwoolfer-like quality of straight men in a mancave brainstorming on how what a Eurovision entry looks like: stupid nonsense. How does that work? The answer to that is "barely", and only if you take it at face value.

The song is not really about Joost dead's father and his world view. That ... I think... is deliberate false advertisement. It's not untrue, but presenting it as the sole truth is a deception. If you delve into the song, you'll find that it's a little bit more complex (and less wholesome) than that.

Verse 1 is about desperately running away from your problems (Joost naming all of the destinations, clawing at people for money, having lost everything but time) and verse 2 tackles validation, desperately craving it and yet not feeling sated. "Europapa" is a coping mechanism first and a song second. It's a deep dive into Joost's inner workings and his soul, but one that exposes him as insecure and vulnerable and putting up a front of irreverence as a mask to the outer world. As per the second verse:

"I'm running from myself, I'm crying out for help - I even give people loads of money and there's nobody who gives me aid [...] turn the radio on, I hear Stromae's "Papaoutai" I won't stop [feel satisfied] until they say "yeah, he [Joost] is doing well, eh?"

Now, this is actually... not a bad thing. It proves that "Europapa" is authentic and has surprising complexity and layers. That's what distinguishes it positively from Finland, which is hollow and cringe.

The problem with the emotions is that they clash with the rest of the song?

Fewer sentiments kill the party mood quite AS hard as one of "Are you feeling alright? 😨 Is everything OKAY?😨 should I call a therapist?" 😨". For me it defo kills the vibe. I don't want to END a fun party song with concern for the singer's wellbeing. The fact that Joost is cishet and therefore incapable of talking about his feelings and yet PUT THESE VERBALIZED EMOTIONS IN PLAIN VIEW IN HIS EUROVISION SONG is enough to set the alarm bells ringing.

Of course it could have worked if the live got it right, but um lol. Let's be honest here: The live was BAD. It was INTENDED to be So-Bad-It's-Good, sure, because that's the only way cishets know to do camp. I don't mind a spoof of a 2008 joke act. It just was... performed and staged so poorly it became the thing it intended to parody.

You sir, are NOT Käärijä.

The best parts of the entry (the emotional complexity and the hak break) are completely washed away by a combination of the awful clickbaity faces, TERRIBLE vocals (the post-chorus "EUROs" in literal Cookie Monster Voice are amongst the ugliest sounds anyone created for Eurovision), nightmare fuel visuals and that ghastly, ghastly outro.

Actually, about that outro. That is what made me turn against Joost. It's the WORST section of ANY song this year. It's the combination of whiplashing from extreme rapture into literal mourning at the drop of a pin (which is kind of... really icky human behaviour when you think about it) with pushing it down our throats by including it in the recap. Make The Guillible Cry With Cheap Emotional Manip, it's not a tool exclusive to Israelis.

And you CAN actually blame this intrusive display of emotional expoitation squarely on Joost because he's a known perfectionist and therefore must have planned the execution of the outro the moment he and his cronies decided to include it in the song.

It did tie the ending together alright. But because it wasn't a showing of personal growth, or strength or accomplishment, which it could have been, it did not align with the rest of the song. Instead it underlined that Joost hasn't moved on and is hopelessly stuck in the past, desperate for validation.

Instead of underlining the cheerful, fun aspect of Europapa it instead brought my attention the dark, emotionally disturbing bits as the last thought, and that ultimately is what killed it for me. The song is a cry for help, which is nothing to be cheerful about.

Aaaaand that's the opinion on the song and the live performance. But we're not done yet because I must address what came after that. 🙄

So, let's tackle the press conference first. Zero complaints about that. I was annoyed with Joost before due to how desperately he tried to push himself as "Käärijä's" successor and fabricated his own PR campaign on TikTok (DIE TikTok), but his behaviour at the PC made me do a complete 180 on him. Him shooting pure unfiltered truth pellets at the EBU and Eden with no regard for the consequences was fucking GLORIOUS. All the things he said needed to be said and were said without a filter. It was pure oxygen and precisely what we all needed to hear, spoken because of its TRUTH and not for clout.

Then, the disqualification. It was 'a valid DQ' purely from a rules perspective but come on now. This was not a DQ worthy incident. He didn't touch the woman and she deliberately, repeatedly refused to respect his privacy despite multiple warnings AND an agreement he made with the EBU. How has this even been reported as a 'crime'? He APOLOGIZED profusely to the lady in question and she refused to hear him and called the police on him. Sometimes you just have the misfortune of running into a Karen on a bad day. And given how riddled with tension this year's backstage was, every day of rehearsals was a bad day for everyone involved.

The DQ went through because the EBU can't fucking clear up the slightest inconvenience. By the time the police became involved, there was no turning back, and they were forced to DQ as per their bureaucracy. The rest is backpedaling.

Both of these things made me feel more sympathetic towards Joost as a person. At the end of the day he's a deeply troubled, complex, tragic figure who (barely) functions on copium and is really terrible at expressing his true feelings and the events surrounding his DQ check out with that. He needs support from those who love him (and enter therapy.) The other delegations taking his side (other than ofc KUN(ts)), is a wholesome signal and proves that Europe can be United By Music even when it is Divided By Politics first. If this disqualification is what leads to some much-needed overhauls for next year (ideally the sacking of Österdahl, the cancellation of the MorroccanOil sponsorship and KAN's expulsion, in any order), I will gladly accept Joost's role in that as the proverbial sacrifce that needed to be made.

Ironically, it was the disqualification that made me realize I shouldn't bump Joost higher out of sympathy for his personality. I didn't miss Europapa on Saturday and barely noticed its absence. The results in the Grand Final were great, specifically because Switzerland won and Croatia beat Israel in the televote. If Joost competes, Swizterland and Croatia's TVs go down in western Europe, while Israel is still top five (since she beat Joost in the semi). He also shoves Bambie out of their serendipitous 6/6/6 placements to boot.

That realization is why I need to eliminate him NOW and not later down the road. I don't care for the song as a Eurovision entry, I DISLIKE the live performance and his presence could have made the results worse for me. Easy elimination at this stage.

Those that care about "Europapa" can keep singing its praises and should. Joost will need and shall appreciate the support after this nightmare Eurovision.

Ultimately though, I am not of his fans.

THE RANKING

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 29: Fatigue

Final Hellsing fic for @whumptober we're actually ending on fluff.

Prompt: Fatigue, burnout Fandom: Hellsing Character: Integra

~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

~~~~~~~

Day 29: Fatigue

Integra has been putting in too much work recently. Alucard and Seras are determined to get her to take a rest.

~~~~~~~

The meeting seemed to be dragging on forever. The lords enjoyed droning on and on and normally Integra was able to at least keep up a polite guise. Today, though, she had a pounding headache, and (was definitely not) coming down with something.

The amount of work recently had seemed to skyrocket. Maybe it was something to do with still being in the wake of the Major’s attempted war, but it seemed like a new rash of vampires and ghouls were cropping up all over England, making it even harder on Hellsing to start rebuilding. With their depleted ranks, it was difficult for them to find enough men to stretch for all the missions so Integra was often pulling double duty herself. Seras and Alucard were, of course, assets, but even they couldn’t be everywhere at once.

“And now for the finance reports—Lord Berkley?”

Integra pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose, massaging under the strap of her eyepatch. If someone shot her right now it couldn’t be more unpleasant.

When the meeting finally adjourned, Integra politely excused herself. Seras was waiting for her as she left, a grim look on her face.

“Sir Integra, Captain Wellings called—there’s been another outbreak in Sussex.”

“Bloody hell,” Integra growled. “Are Alucard and the other team back yet?”

Seras shook her head. “No. They’re just finishing up, but they won’t be back in time.”

Integra sighed wearily as she led the way to the car. “Fine. We’ll head out there then.”

Seras hurried to keep up with her. “Sir Integra…um…I can go with Captain Wellings and a few men, there’s no reason you have to come, I know you’re…”

“What, Seras?” Integra snapped.

The young vampire hesitated. “Well it’s just that you’ve been working so hard recently. I know you haven’t been sleeping. Don’t you think you should get some rest?”

“My health is hardly your concern,” Integra told her firmly. “I don’t get to rest. That’s my job as head of the organization. If my men are out fighting vampires, then so am I.”

“Right,” Seras said quietly.

Integra tried to ignore the urge to cough, her throat annoyingly scratchy. She’d love nothing more than a cup of tea right now, to sit her aching body down in the library and take a few hours to herself, but that just wasn’t an option.

Two hours later and she was really regretting every decision she had ever made in her life.

The nest had been bigger than they had anticipated, resulting in a desperate fight that had put all of them on their toes. Thankfully, none of Integra’s men had been lost, but there were a few injuries that would have to be tended to.

Integra was trying not to sway on her feet, feeling horribly light-headed as she stood by Captain Wellings as they saw the injured men driven off to the hospital. There was a catch in her chest every time she breathed and she couldn’t help a small cough here and there.

Captain Wellings glanced over at her with thinly veiled concern. “Are you well, Sir Integra? You were not injured?”

“No, just a bit of a seasonal cold I’m dealing with,” she muttered, attempting to suppress another cough. “We need to get back to headquarters to properly report civilian casualties. Alucard and his team should be back by now as well to give their report.”

It was just one thing after another. Integra left Seras with the rest of the men to clean up as she and the captain headed back to Hellsing headquarters.

By the time they got back her body was aching even more and she felt oddly chilled. Did she have a damn fever on top of everything else? This was ridiculous. She hardly ever got sick. She didn’t have time to get sick now.

She headed to her office and wrote up a quick report before taking a moment to sit with her head in her hands. She took some pain pills from her desk and swallowed them dry, hoping that would help a little.

A knock on the door had her straightening her shoulders and looking up as Wellings appeared.

“Alucard and the others are back, Sir Integra,” he informed.

“Alright, send him here to make his report.”

Integra continued typing as Alucard entered her office a few minutes later.

“Is everything done up north?” she asked.

He nodded. “The nest is cleared and I looked around the area to make sure we had gotten any and all possible vampires.” He stepped over to the desk, a small smirk on his face as he perched on the edge of it. “You’re running warmer than usual—are you that eager for my return?”

“Shut it,” Integra growled as she finished the report, making to print it out.

Alucard reached out and carefully pressed the backs of his fingers to his cheek. “Are you ill, Integra?”

She jerked her face away from him. “It’s none of your concern. I am fine.”

“You’re exhausted,” Alucard pointed out. “You look like you can barely stay upright. You should not have exerted yourself today if you weren’t feeling well.”

“That’s not your place to say,” she told him, annoyed—with him and her body for betraying her. “I’ve been exhausted before, this is hardly going to kill me.”

“It will take you longer to recover the more you push yourself though,” Alucard pointed out. “You should rest today so you can start to feel better tomorrow.”

“I really don’t need your advice,” Integra snapped. “What I need is your detailed report. So either give it to me, or write it out and send it to me like everyone else.”

Alucard sighed. “Very well, Integra.”

He gave his report and left, to Integra’s relief. Alone once again, she leaned back in her chair with a soft groan, closing her eyes for a long moment, bracing herself to continue. She didn’t want to admit to how tempting Alucard’s suggestion of resting for the rest of the day sounded. But it was just unrealistic. She didn’t have that luxury in her position. Too many people depended on her getting her job done.

She smothered a cough and pushed onward. There was nothing else she could do.

It wasn’t much later that Seras came in carrying a cup of steaming tea. She smiled at Integra.

“I thought you might like some tea,” she said sweetly.

Integra speared her with a look. “Alucard told you I’m sick, didn’t he?”

Seras looked slightly hurt. “I bring you tea all the time. But yes, I was also told to convince you to rest.”

Integra growled, barely resisting another cough. “That’s kind of you to be concerned, but I assure you I am fine, and I will get my work done sooner if everyone will stop bothering me.”

Seras pressed her lips together. “Alright, Sir Integra, but…if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

“Just keep Alucard away from me—he’s annoyingly fussy.”

“He cares about you, we both do,” Seras said earnestly.

“I am hardly dying,” Integra snorted. “It is a seasonal cold, nothing more. Now leave me to my work.”

Seras sighed but turned and left the room.

Integra picked up the tea and sipped at it. She didn’t want to admit just how nice it felt on her sore throat.

It was late by the time Integra finished all her work for the night and she was definitely feeling the exhaustion. It had been so long since she’d felt this weak, it would have made her furious if she’d had the energy to feel that much right now.

She trudged to her room, barely having the strength to change for bed before she collapsed with a sigh of relief. She shut her eyes and was asleep almost instantly.

The next morning she woke with a start as her alarm went off. She hadn’t woken up to her alarm for years, her body trained so well to get up moments before that setting it was little more than a formality. She batted at it clumsily for several seconds before she was able to turn it off.

She tried to roll over with the intention of getting off the bed, but her body just refused. It was so heavy, she felt like she had been turned into lead overnight. Integra groaned, lying there for a few long seconds before she tried again.

Her door opened and she glanced up blearily to see Alucard standing there, a knowing look on his face that she could sense rather than see.

“What are you smirking about?” she demanded, voice hoarse.

His expression softened as he came over to the bed and crouched beside her. “My dear Integra. Do yourself a favor and stay in bed today.”

“Out of the question,” she grunted, finally forcing herself into a sitting position, only for her head to start pounding so much she had to reach up and press her fingers into the bridge of her nose. “Hand me my glasses.”

Alucard instead took her hand and kissed the back of it softly. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

She glowered up at his bleary figure. “Excuse me?”

A second figure appeared in the room then, carrying something.

“Good morning, Sir Integra! I brought you breakfast!” Seras’s voice rang out.

“Breakfast in bed? Absolutely not,” Integra growled.

“And why not? You don’t deserve a personal day?” Alucard asked smoothly as he swiftly propped her up with pillows while Seras installed the tray across her lap.

Integra finally managed to grab her glasses so she could see the two vampires clearly. She glowered at them. “This is ridiculous.” She quickly covered her mouth as a cough forced its way out, leaving her doubled over slightly, chest aching.

“Integra, really. Would you rather take a personal day or let the rest of the organization see you so weak?” Alucard pressed.

Integra glowered up at him. He knew exactly what he was doing. Seras looked concerned, hands clasped in front of her.

She rolled her eyes and picked up the cup of tea. “Fine. I will take a few more hours to rest. But you must bring me my work if you insist on my staying in bed.”

“Integra,” Alucard said warningly.

“Sod off, Alucard, I don’t get a day off just because I’m sick.” Integra snapped and promptly coughed again, having to catch her breath.

“But Sir Integra, you have a fever,” Seras said, concerned. “You can’t work with a fever, it’s too hard to keep your mind on things.”

“It’s only a very low fever, hardly enough to compromise me. Now bring me my work laptop.”

“After you eat and take your medicine,” Seras said with a grin, unafraid of Integra’s dark glower.

“If you ever want a taste of my blood again you’ll reconsider, girl,” she snapped.

“I say let her work until her head aches,” Alucard spoke up then with an annoying amount of amusement. “You’re not going to stop her, Seras.”

Seras sighed and hurried off. “Alright, I’ll get the laptop.”

Integra relaxed slightly, having won that argument and turned back to her tea. It really was soothing on her throat.

Alucard sat down on the side of the bed, facing her. “Tell me, Integra, how many times have you had the luxury of staying in bed all day?”

She snorted. “Never.”

“Exactly,” he smiled pointedly. “So why not take the opportunity today? Finish your reports if you must, and then let me entertain you.”

Integra gave him a look. “And what makes you think I am in the mood for your brand of entertainment, Alucard?”

He smiled softly, chuckling as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “You always think so ill of me, my Master. I am not simply a needy beast. I assure you I am quite capable of simple companionship. Especially when you are not feeling at your best.” He grinned. “Unless of course you wish for me to entertain you in more…sordid ways.”

She growled and pushed him away. “Don’t test your luck. You know well enough I always keep a gun with silver bullets under my pillow.”

Alucard grinned. “I am well aware.”

He stood and went over to the side of her room where a dusty record player sat. He blew off the dust and bent to riffle through the vinyls before pulling one out. Integra watched him work until the opening movement of the Moonlight Sonata began to play.

“Remember that night we danced alone in the moonlight?” Alucard asked her.

“Hmm,” Integra murmured, suddenly feeling rather soothed by the music. She did remember. One of the few times they could allow themselves a night together, the windows wide open as the light of the full moon spilled in, dancing to Beethoven, swaying slightly in each other’s arms, all cares cast aside for the moment.

Alucard came back to the bed, removing his coat and climbing up next to her as she set her finished breakfast tray aside. He pulled her in, resting his cheek against her forehead. His cool skin felt rather nice against her fevered flesh. She found herself shutting her aching eyes despite herself.

“Seras is taking quite a while getting my laptop,” she pointed out.

“Is that so bad?” Alucard asked with a smirk.

Integra finally realized that he had effectively ‘trapped’ her and she was frankly too tired to do much about it. It felt…admittedly rather nice, just sitting there curled up against Alucard.

“Shall I read to you to pass the time?” he asked her, pulling a book from her bedside table.

“I suppose so. My eyes hurt too much to read today,” she replied with a huff.

Alucard smiled and tucked her closer to him as he started to read. His voice was deep and soothing and Integra sunk lower, her cheek resting on his chest as she allowed her eyes to close, easing the aching in her head just a bit.

The words eventually faded away as she slipped off, her breathing, while still raspy, evening out a little.

When Seras finally did return, peeking in, Alucard shot her a wink and a grin as he nodded to Integra, dead to the world, resting against him.

Seras closed the door quietly and tip-toed away. They had successfully managed to get Integra to take the day off to rest. Mission accomplished.

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Hi hi !! Love your cod hcs!! And I apologise if I spammed them.

They pretty much made me smile today since ive been binging on them. If it's okay can I ask for some of the cod boys comforting a medic reader and their new employer is just a dick. Where reader works so much over time(even during sick days), maybe the boys get worried because reader's body is just basically telling them, they need rest?

My job has been kinda crappy lately and I've considered finding another clinic to work at because some staff get treated like shit while others are put on a pedestal.

ᙖᥱttᥱɾ Ꙇᥙᥴƙ ᥒᥱxt tɩຕᥱ

Task Force 141 + gn! Reader

Hey Love! First of all, thank you so much for helping people that need you. I wish you the best and I hope you find a clinic that gives you what you deserve. Please don’t forget to also take care of yourself <3 I love you!

And thank you so much 🥺 This literally means so much to me <3 Spam as much as you want, I literally don’t care. In fact, it always makes me happy 😋

I hope you like this<3 LOVE YOU💖💖💖💖

╚═════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ══════╝

You were working in the infirmary for the Task Force 141 and other units. You had proven yourself to be an indispensable asset to the team, healing their physical wounds and bringing warmth to their hearts. You were their favorite. They knew they could come to you running and you would catch them with open arms. Always having a smile on your face and shining brighter than all the stars combined. They were lucky to have someone motivated and happy medic like you.

However, it wasn't long before the demands of your new employer began to take a toll on your well-being. The team noticed the exhaustion etched in the lines of your face, the dark circles under your eyes and the way you pushed yourself beyond your limits, even working during sick days. They noticed how you slowly lost your smile as each day passed and you started to look like you hadn’t slept for weeks. This started to worry the boys since they weren’t used to this side of you.

Kyle was the first to speak up, concern lacing his voice. "I think that you've been pushing yourself too hard. It's okay to take a break sometimes, you know?" he said softly.

You attempted to brush off his worry with a smile, but it couldn't hide the weariness in your eyes. "I'm fine, really" you replied, trying to convince yourself as much as you tried to convince him. He looked sad and you could read it off of his face. You healed his wound and told him to not overwork himself. Oh how bad he wanted to say that you shouldn’t either. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to provoke you.

It didn’t take too long until Simon entered the room. You turn to look at him and give him a smile but he couldn’t feel your smile to his heart like he usually would. Whenever you smiled at him, it felt like the whole world was smiling at him. But today he didn’t feel like the whole world was smiling at him.

Simon leaned forward, making it hard for you to not look at him, yet his voice gentle was stern. "You're not fine" he said, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. "We can see it, I can see it, and it's not worth risking your health for us" you couldn’t look at him any longer so you looked down, not answering him. From outside, you and Simon could hear the new employee yell at you to come and do something instead of just sitting. Without looking back, you turned around and got out of your room, leaving Simon alone. And he was holding him back from snapping at the newbie to fuck off.

John Price, the wise captain of the Task Force came around a day later and greeted you with a warm smile he had saved. Just for you.

"How is my favorite medic?" he asked and you gave him a warm smile. Or let’s say you tried. "You lost weight, Y/N. I‘m worried you’re not doing fine. Anything you wanna talk about?" he stated, causing you to look at yourself and then back at him. "No sir. I‘m working out at home. That’s probably why." you reply, desperately trying to close the conversation but he doesn’t let you.

"What’s with your eyes then? Why do they look so tired if you’re okay?" he hits a spot in your heart and the tears are threatening you to fall any second. "I watched a sad movie last night. Still hurts. That’s all. Anything else captain?" your voice id trembling. You hope he says no and leaves because if he doesn’t, he will get to see you cry in front of him. And you don’t want him to see that.

"Come here" he opens his arms and hugs you tightly. You can’t help but let the tears fall down your eyes and ruin the makeup you put on to cover the dark circles around your eyes. "It’s okay. You just need a rest. Please take a few days off, for yourself. You need to rest Sweetheart."

You hesitated, torn between your dedication to the team and the need to care for yourself. But you know that if you leave, you’re gonna have to work harder because of the new doctor around here.

As the days passed, the team grew increasingly worried as they saw the toll that constant work was taking on you. Your body was showing clear signs of exhaustion and the concern in their eyes intensified.

Again, kyle entered the med bay, a determined look in his eyes. "Y/N" he said, his voice unwavering, "I know you've been neglecting your own well-being, but we won't let you do it anymore."

He revealed a small cut on his arm, deliberately made. "If you won't take care of yourself," he continued, "I'll have to take care of you."

In that moment, the weight of his worry and love for you became too much to bear. Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, finally allowing yourself to accept their care and concern.

With the help of the team, Price had a conversation with your boss behind your back and reported what’s going on and ensured that you were given a few days off to rest. The boys rallied around you, bringing you snacks, food and making sure you stayed hydrated.

Simon spoke up with a grin, "Hey there doc." he said playfully "have a whole team to take care of you now."

A genuine smile graced your lips as you felt the warmth of their care surrounding you. "Thank you" you said softly.

Johnny clapped you on the shoulder. "We're a team" he said, his voice filled with camaraderie "and can we take care of our own. And of you. That’s the least we can do"

In the days that followed, you finally allowed yourself to rest, your body and soul. The boys were there every step of the way, ensuring you got the rest and care you needed.

You were thankful to whoever was listening to you. They were family to you and whenever you needed someone, they were there for you. It’s the least they can do and pay off the times you overworked so they were doing fine. And now they are taking care of you until you stand up again and send them to bed to rest.

[starlightrows]

15 — Shadow

Hiding In Plain Sight

← Previous - Next →

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Serious illness, discussion of death

Summary: You are happy to be reunited with your team, but begin to struggle with some worrying health concerns

Your relaxing three days of “guard duty” doesn’t last nearly as long as you would have hoped. The moment you return to The Radiant you are caught up in the backlog of work you’ve missed and the current workload that comes your way. Long hours in the med bay, endless paperwork, returning to physical training and going out on assignment with the team whenever called upon.

Each day that passes leaves you feeling like you have less and less energy to start with each morning. Caf feels like it’s becoming less effective, but you still need it just to stay awake during your designated time for your notes and reports. You’re lifting lighter weights during training, physically incapable of making your usual mile time even when you push yourself, and just the other day you noticed after showering that your body is looking slimmer than what is normal for you. But you are not the only one who has begun picking up on these subtle changes.

Wolffe repeats your name for a second time, “Did you hear what I said?”

“Huh?” You snap out of your brain fog and look up from your data pad though you have no idea what you were just looking at on it, or what you and Wolffe had been talking about before you looked down at it.

“I said Ashoka will be joining us for the Uttresh mission” he repeats “Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh yeah, it’ll be nice to see her again” you nod “I’m fine, just tired”

“Just tired huh?” He gives you a stern look “You and I both know that this is more than just a little tired. You haven’t been yourself lately”

“Wolffe, I’m fine, really” you try to assure him, standing from your desk and coming around to stand close to him.

He brushes down the length of your arm and takes your hand, his face is still serious and unconvinced. “I know you don’t want to, but I really think you should take the rest of the day off, and maybe call one of your medic friends for a second opinion. It’s been three months and you’re still struggling. Don’t think I haven’t noticed”

Your face seems to fall when he says that. “I guess I can send my lab work out for a second opinion”

He lifts your chin “You can’t take care of us if you can’t take care of yourself, remember?”

“Yeah” you nod, you preach that to them all of the time. You need to listen to your own advice.

“Go take a nap, I’ll let training out early tonight and come spend time with you” he says, trying to sound positive

“And if I sneak back into the med bay to work?” you grin mischievously

“Then I’m going to sneak lock you in an exam room to rest” he counters “Don’t make me order you to go”

“Order me anyway, just for fun” you grin

He rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss you “Go take a nap. That’s an order, Captain”

“Yes sir” you kiss him back and leave the office.

He’s glad to hear you teasing and joking, but it stings because he knows you’re covering for how miserable you are right now. True to his word, he lets the team out early from physical training and heads off to find you. He finds you laying on your bed, not sleeping just laying on your side and staring off into space. The door closes behind him and begins to take off his kit and boots, leaving it all by the door so he can lay down behind you. He curls himself around your body, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you in close. He presses his nose into your hair and kisses your head.

“Did you nap?” He asks, lacing his fingers with yours

“Yeah” your voice is soft and relaxed “I sent off the lab work to several of my colleagues. You were right, this is getting out of hand and I can’t afford to ignore it any longer”

His lip twitches, a pulse of frustration comes before the relief that you made the right call. You shouldn’t have to be dealing with this. And the prospect of this mysterious condition being something serious causes a sense of panic in his body that he shuts down and pushes away immediately.

“Whatever this is, we will figure it out together” he says “I promise”

“Thank you” you smile, breathing deeply “I prefer this you know. Being sick and with you, than working in that nightmare med station without you”

He chuckles a little, “I would rather you be safe and healthy, but I agree this is much better than the alternative”

You hum in agreement. A lull falls over you both. Happy to have the time and space to just be near each other, but below the grateful surface is anxiety and dread. The war doesn’t stop and this strange exhaustion and weakness is putting you at risk. There’s no sense in talking about it now when there is nothing to be done. Now you wait. Until the symptoms go away. Until a test comes back conclusive. Until one of your colleagues has a theory. Until the bloody war ends.

Weeks pass and you hear nothing from your friends and colleagues. You continue on as best you can, trying to make time to rest and research the cause of your sudden weakness and fatigue.

One afternoon Wolffe sits with you in your office, drinking caf and completing some joint paperwork.

“No responses from any of your friends yet?” He asks, he’s been trying not to ask every single day.

You shake your head sadly, “No”

“Not even to acknowledge the request or that they received the lab work?” He’s been more frustrated with this whole situation lately.

“A few did, most didn’t” you frown at the document you’re working on “It’s unlike them not to respond at all like that…. It gives me a bad feeling about all of this”

A gentle tap on the door stops him before he can respond, you look past him towards the door “Come in”

General Plo stands on the other side of the door when it slides open. “Good afternoon Captain” he address you “Commander” he nods to Wolffe.

“To what do I owe the pleasure General?” You ask, sitting up straighter and giving him a smile.

“Captain, might I have a word with you?” General Plo asks

“Of course, General” you look to Wolffe

“I’ll see you later” he nods to you “General” he nods, slipping out of your office and disappearing down the hall.

“What can I do for you General?” You ask, gesturing for him to take the seat across from you. He nods graciously and sits down.

“Over the last several weeks since your return I have noticed a difference in you. Forgive me, I do not mean to overstep into your jurisdiction as the team's medical lead, but are you feeling alright?”

“You would have to be blind to not see it” You admit “To be completely honest with you, I have not been feeling myself lately… and it scares me because I can’t determine what’s causing it”

“I assume you have run through an extensive list of conditions and illnesses”

You nod “And sent off my blood work, test results, and symptoms to several colleagues for other opinions. Haven’t gotten any responses yet”

“If you would be open to it, I spent many years in the halls of healing during my time as a Padawan. I am no doctor or medical professional by any means, but I can lead you through a meditation and try to delve deeper into the force to search for a possible cause or solution to your ailment”

“It couldn’t hurt… I would be honored General”

“Come” he rises and extends a hand to you, helping you stand from your chair. He leads you into the training room and uses the force to place mats down on the floor. You take a seat while he dims the lights in the training room. He joins you on the floor and begins to lead you through a breathing exercise to help you relax into a meditative state.

You’ve done meditations with General Plo many times, the breathing exercises and feeling of surrendering your mind to just be in the moment is familiar to you. Your body feels heavy. Like the ends of your extremities are weighed down with lead. It is so much effort to sit with proper posture that it exhausts you even just to sit. You hope that whatever General Plo can see or feel will be insightful or helpful in some way.

Plo senses the profound discomfort in your body, without even needing to delve into the force, he can see it in the way your shoulders sag and your normally bright features have grown dull in the last several months. He closes his eyes and reaches out into the void with his mind, open to whatever insight The Force may offer him.

He tunes himself into the sound of your breathing, the beating of your heart. And suddenly he can hear not just your heartbeat, but many. Hundreds, thousands of heartbeats, but they’re off time and slowing. He can see endless rows of crisp white linen sheets on sick beds. He can feel an acrid layer of sadness, anger, and loss clouding this vision. Death. He senses death, in insurmountable numbers. The future, or a possible future.

He pushes deeper into the vision, embracing its message and seeking answers to questions he has not yet formed. He knows you are sick, and now he knows that you are not the only one. He sees you collapse and Wolffe at your side to catch you. His heart clenches at the pulsing anger, frustration and pain he senses from Wolffe in this vision. He feels your fear, your sadness and regret. He watches the light fade from your eyes and suffering snap its jaws around Wolffe and the rest of the team.

Plo turns his focus away from that future and sees another path. He looks into this alternate vision, and feels the same anger, frustrations and pain, but instead of staying to the bitter end he senses something else. A choice. One that leads to a departure, separation, but not loss. Not yet. The choice to hold on or let go. But it is not you who has to make this terrible choice. It is not in your hands anymore. Your fate is in the hands of those who love you most.

As Plo relinquishes his concentration and comes back to the present moment, he takes an extra moment to look at you and acknowledge his own feelings on the situation. You have always been a good soldier, a good doctor, a good team member. General Plo cares about every one of his soldiers under his command, appreciates them for who they are, and cares about their well being. And there is nothing he can do to save you from what you are already enduring or what is coming. There is just as much chance that you will live and there is that you will die. What a painful truth to reckon with.

He opens his eyes and severs the connection, “You are not alone Captain” General Plo says

“I know” you sigh “I appreciate the support”

“No, I mean to say that you are not the only one suffering from this mysterious illness. Thousands are beginning to realize it, more will follow” he explains

“What?” Your heart drops into your stomach

“I believe that this is not a singular case. I believe something has caused this illness and has already affected more people across the galaxy. I must return to Coruscant and speak to the council. Together we may be able to learn more through group meditation” he says, getting to his feet and extending his hand in offerance to help you stand as well. You take it and slowly get yourself up right.

“General, thank you for doing this with me… but I have to ask, did you see something you aren’t telling me?”

Plo had no intention of telling you the specifics of what he saw, he has learned better than to rely on the certainty of visions.

You take his beat of silence as a ‘yes’ “Listen, if I’m going to die I would so much rather know”

“I do not know the answer to that” he squeezes your hand “But may I ask, if I knew for certain that you would die, what would you do differently than if you knew for certain that you would live?”

“I would go into my final moments with my friends knowing just that. That it was the end. I would savor it and make sure the memories were happy and fun, so they would remember me that way” you say “I would make sure the people I care about know that I love them”

“Have no fear on that Captain” he pats your hand “Your love for those who are dear to you is unmistakable”

He departs within the hour, taking a shuttle cruiser to Coruscant having already notified the council of his visions and concerns. To his surprise, he is not the only Jedi that has suspected something was amiss.

—

Meanwhile, Wolffe retreated to his office. He didn’t really have any work to do there, he just needed to be alone for a little while. He’s glad General Plo has stepped in, maybe now you would get some answers or at least have a place to start looking for answers as to why you’ve been feeling so weak and sick lately. He absent mindedly starts sketching shapes and shading while he mulls over his heavy feelings. He’d picked up the habit while you were gone.

He realized he had no holo images of you. As the days bled into weeks, and further into months he had longed to see your face. He spent many hours laying up at night thinking about the shape of your lips, the bridge of your nose, the line of your jaw. He agonized over the shape of your eyebrows. Eventually he started putting lines on paper, continuing in spare moments of time until he realized that he had essentially been unconsciously making portraits of you. Now he does it all the time, especially when he’s stressed. Like right now.

It’s been torture for him to watch. He thought being separated was the hardest thing he’s ever gone through, but this is so much worse. You’re here with him, but each day you seem to be less and less of yourself. He’s watching you waste away and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s not a doctor or a Jedi, he’s not a General with authority to relieve you of military service so you can fully rest and recover. He would do anything to fix this, to save you.

A knock at the door breaks him out of this spiral, he quickly slips the notepad into the drawer of his desk and beckons the apparent intruder to come in. Instantly he regrets making his presence in his office known, because Roy strolls in with a smug look at a pile of paperwork.

“Ah, Commander Wolffe. I have a few matters I need to discuss with you” Roy closes the door behind him and sits down without invitation.

“Can it wait?” Wolffe glares at him as he sits

“No Commander, I believe that these matters are of the utmost importance and should be resolved immediately” Roy rifles through the papers, and places them on the desk in front of him.

Wolffe checks his chronometer, as if he actually had an appointment or somewhere to be, “You have three minutes” he relents.

Roy looks miffed at the minuscule time window he’s been given to make his case, but proceeds nonetheless “I have noticed that the Captain has been neglecting certain duties. Namely the reports pertaining to the annual health checks for all personnel in the legion, her obligations to be available for questions and contact as the senior medical officer. In addition to this she has made no effort to take on new mentorship opportunities or put in any recognition to the rest of medical staff's achievements. All of this leads me to believe that she has either grown lazy in her duties or become unfit to serve as lead medic. I insist that she be placed on probation until she can prove herself worthy of her station or removed from service altogether if she is truly incapable of doing her job.”

Wolffe sets his jaw and forces himself to hold his tongue, “Are you finished?”

“Yes, I think so” Roy says with a self satisfied look, and presses the stack of paperwork towards Wolffe

“Good. Listen very carefully” Wolffe says, standing up and leaning forward over the desk “She is your superior officer. Because she has put in the work and earned her place in the military and on this team. You are a spineless, selfish, arrogant worm and I have had enough of your self righteous demands for respect and valor you have not earned. Unfortunately, it is not within my power to have your transferred or discharged from the service, but I will be speaking to the Captain and General Plo about your insubordination”

Roy’s jaw hangs open and he blinks in surprise. Wolffe looks him up and down with a disdainful glare “If there’s nothing else, get back to work” Wolffe hisses, lowering himself back into his seat.

Roy’s shock evaporates and he returns the glare. The two of them sit in silence for a few moments, staring each other down. Finally Roy stands and exits the room. Wolffe shakes his head and scrubs a hand down his face in exasperation.

This can not continue. He knows there is almost no chance of getting him discharged or even reassigned, especially with you being unwell. He won’t say it. He can’t even think about it. If you have to be placed on leave because of this sickness… no. He will not let it come to that. He won’t lose you again. He holds you a little tighter while you sleep that night, no sense in telling you about the interaction with Roy, but still he held you close for his own sake. As if his mere presence could ward off all that seems to be plaguing you.

You didn’t hear from General Plo after he left for Coruscant. Irrationally you had hoped he could com within a day or two with news that he and the other Jedi used The Force and determined a cause that could be corrected. But no word came.

With each passing day the fog clouding you mind grew more dense, your energy sapped by the effort it took to move, to walk, to breathe, and then it all came to ahead. You were working in the med bay, no one was there who needed treatment, and you were on shift on your own with just a medical assistant droid.

One moment you were walking to put away some equipment and the next you were waking up on the floor. The medical droid trying to speak to you and some kind of alarm hazily blaring. It’s too much. The lights are too bright, the sound is too sharp, and you can’t find the strength to stand.

Wolffe drops everything when he receives the com that you’ve collapsed in the med bay. He drops everything and takes off sprinting down the halls with no regard for who sees or what they may think. Slush and Boost are right on his heels.

One look at you and Wolffe knows, this ship does not have the equipment or the staff to help you right now. Wolffe swallows hard and forces himself to breathe and stay calm.

“Boost, make contact with the nearest medical frigate and tell them we’re transferring a patient that needs intensive care” Wolffe orders

“Yes sir” Boost turns quickly and runs out of the med bay to make contact with the frigate

“Slush, prep the ship” Wolffe yanks Slush up by the arm and shoved him towards the door

“Yes sir” Slush backs out of the room, turns and runs too.

Wolffe is starting to feel bile creeping up into the back of his throat, like he wants to wretch. Panic. He can not panic. He turns to the droid

“Get her on the gurney, you will accompany us to the frigate” he says

“But sir, I am a —“ the droid begins to protest

“You are a medical droid. Your primary function is to treat wounded and sick soldiers. She is sick. Help me get her onto a gurney, now!” He snaps. The droid complies and helps move your comatose form onto a gurney. The droid puts you on oxygen and monitors your vitals.

Wolffe feels like he’s in a dream or a simulation. He walks with heavy and haunted steps as he guides the gurney down the halls and helps to load the ship. He barely recognizes his own voice when he tells Sinker

“You have command of the 104th until our return”

He doesn’t register anything Slush says to him, he just sits beside you as the ship takes off, and holds your limp hand.

It’s not until he realizes his com is buzzing from an incoming transmission that he is able to tear his focus away from you and the ringing in his ears. He takes a few steps away from you and answers the com. A holo image appears, of someone he did not expect.

“Rex?”

“Commander, where is she? Is she alright?” Rex asks, sounding frantic.

“She’s being transported to a medical frigate and we— hang on? How did you know something was wrong?” His mind is reeling

“They all are” Rex says gravely

“They? They who?”

“The doctors. The medics. The surgeons and nurses. Everyone that was reassigned to aid the wounded on Atraken” Rex explains

“What? What are you talking about?” Wolffe has to sit down. None of this is making any sense.

“All that left the base to go back to their normal assignments. They’re dropping like flies”

“Fuck….” At a loss for words “Fuck…. What-what’s wrong with them?”

“From what I’ve been hearing…. Organ failure… almost a hundred confirmed dead already” Rex can see Wolffe’s image on the holo, and sees his own fear and confusion reflected back at him.

“So…is it contagious? Is anyone else at risk?” Wolffe asks

“Not as far as we can tell. Just those directly exposed”

“What do we do? What can we do? We have to do something!” Wolffe’s heart is thundering in his chest, adrenaline with nowhere to go or do

“For now… get her to the frigate. And do not let the doctors give her any bacta. It’s accelerating the processes and killing them faster…” Rex says “General Skywalker is working on a plan, I’ll let you know when I have more information”

Wolffe nods vacantly. There is nothing he can do.

Tag List:

@maulslittlemeowmeow @lucyysthings @justanothersadperson93 @lackofhonor @paige6768 @thefact0rygirl @ttzamara @nekotaetae @jennrosefx @kashasenpai @littledragonlady @love-space-nerd

[what-if-queen-camilla]

Chapter 12

04th August 1987 - Part 3

The ambulance arrived shortly after and neither the doctor nor the nurse could emphasise often enough just how brilliantly Andrew had done and how proud they all were of them; of course, Camilla was, too, but after both she and the baby had been checked and considered in excellent health, she suddenly felt so tired that she could have fallen asleep immediately. Her daughter, however, had other plans and was desperate for milk. “Yes, you must be hungry, my little darling…”, she whispered to her, tenderly placing her on her chest, guiding her little mouth to her breast. Thank goodness, after two children, she was relaxed and experienced enough so that breastfeeding wasn’t a big deal anymore and after a few minutes, both mother and child fell into a deep, happy sleep…

"Kensington Palace? Yes, Colonel Parker Bowles speaking. May I speak to His Royal Highness The Prince of Wales, please?" Shortly after 8 am, Camilla and Theodora still fast asleep, Andrew had decided that it was time to inform the real father of last night's events and has dialled the familiar number of the pass office of the Royal Residence and much to his relief, he was, indeed, transferred to The Prince immediately. "Andrew? What's the matter? Is Milla alright?", he hissed into the receiver, sounding incredibly anxious. He had quickly disappeared into his office to answer the call without risking his wife overhearing anything and his heart ached in concern about the love of his life and their little baby. "No worries, Sir, they're both fine.", Andrew declared, proudly adding: "Mother and child are as fit as a fiddle." Silence. "Sir?", Andrew asked carefully when the Prince didn't reply. "Um, yes, yes, Andrew, I-I'm sorry…", the heir to the throne stuttered. "I just - can you please repeat what you've just said?" Andrew chuckled. His astonishment and disbelief were almost cute and today of all days, he found almost everything cute. “Of course, Sir! With pleasure!", he exclaimed, almost bursting with pride and joy. "Camilla was safely delivered from a baby girl last night! Well, in fact - I delivered her from the little one - our daughter, I mean, your daughter - oh nevermind, they're both fine so… huge congratulations, Sir! I just thought you might like to be informed…" Charles' heart was beating like mad and his head felt like swirling. He tried to grasp what he had just heard. The baby had arrived. He had become a father once more - the father of Camilla’s child, the love of his life and himself had a daughter! "Oh my God…", he said unbelieving and with a teary voice. "I… I'll try and come over as soon as possible!", he promised. "Thank you, Andrew! Thank you so much!"With that, he hung up and sat down on the chair, almost in shock, but the very sweetest kind of shock imaginable. Camilla and him had a baby! All that he wanted was to go and see them both as soon as possible, to kiss Camilla endlessly for having given him the greatest gift in his entire life, to meet the little one and hold her, tell her how proud her daddy was and how much he loved her already, promise her that he would always be there for her and protect her from all evil… but it was Granny's birthday today as well and they had to go to Clarence House around midday for birthday party… As much as he loved his grandmother, as much did the whole rest of the bunch annoy him; his parents, his brothers, his silly sister-in-law, not to speak of his malicious wife… at least his darling cousins David and Sarah would be there as well and of course all the members of the public who'd be gathering around Clarence House and The Mall to sing Granny a Happy Birthday. How wonderful was it that his daughter and his grandmother were sharing a birthday? Oh how he'd have loved to tell her, it'd surely have been the most wonderful birthday present of all time! But it wasn't possible… he couldn't burden Granny with keeping such a secret, he loved her almost as much as he loved Camilla, and the little one of course, and he couldn't bear putting her in such a situation.

"Highgrove, really? Again?", Diana sighed, rolling her eyes when Charles requested to be picked up by a separate car as soon as the birthday celebrations were over, as they arrived at Clarence House a few hours later. "Yes, Again!", he declared, equally annoyed by her as she had appeared to be by him before. "I need some time on my own and you hate Gloucestershire anyway." "Oh, I really do hate Gloucestershire!", she snarled, looking at him with fiery eyes, but he was determined to keep calm this time, casually answering: "Great! There you go! So that's settled then." With this, he opened the door, swung himself out of the car and went straight over to his Granny who had already been waiting for them, without even looking at his wife anymore. "Happy birthday, darling Granny!", he said, lovingly kissing his grandmother on both cheeks. "Ohhh thank you, thank you, my dear boy.", the Queen Mother replied, obviously very touched and happy about all the attention she received on the occasion of her birthday.

Hundreds, maybe thousands, of well-wishers had lined the streets, excitedly waving to their beloved former Queen, singing for her, cheering her on, presenting her with the most beautiful flowers and posies and of course someone had arranged a birthday cake which she happily cut amidst excited rejoicing by the crowds. It was a jolly good celebration and everybody enjoyed themselves, except for Diana who stood in a corner, pouting. Of course she was upset because, for once, the limelight wasn't on her and she needed the people's attention even more than they needed her, but Charles just tried to ignore her and instead look forward to seeing Camilla and meeting the baby in a few hours. "Charles, darling, could you please help your poor old grandmother with all of these… parcels?", the Queen Mother asked her favourite grandchild, laboriously carrying dozens of cards and bouquets in both her arms. "Of course, Granny!", he replied and immediately rushed to her side to guide her into the house. Of course, they usually had servants for this kind of things but he was more than grateful for every opportunity to get away from the devil. "Are you going to see the Parker Bowleses later?", his grandmother asked as if it was the most normal thing in the world once they were alone. Charles was so perplexed he didn't know what to say. "I hear Camilla has given birth to a baby girl last night.", she chatted away while putting some of her birthday flowers into vases. "The little one and I have the same birthday, isn't that funny?" "Ummm… yes, yes.", Charles replied slightly overwhelmed. It wasn't surprising actually that the news had already reached her as well; Andrew was her godson and surely someone would have told her. But the naturalness she had asked him with whether he was going to see them later was… unexpected. Of course she knew that they'd been a couple once and that they were still close, that Charles was Tom's godfather and all of that… but still. Something about her question felt awkward. "So are you going?", she asked again, looking at him expectantly. Her eyes shone brightly, filled with pure love and happiness, there was nothing evil about his darling Granny, just like there was nothing evil about his darling Camilla… oh how he'd have loved to tell her! "Well, yes, I… I'm going to Highgrove later and I… might drop by in the afternoon.", he said. "Oh wonderful!", the Queen Mother exclaimed, rushing over to her desk, grabbing a closed envelope, handing it to her grandson before turning to the side table where they had just placed several vases with flower bouquets. "Which one do you think she'd like most?", the old lady asked, but didn't wait for him to reply. "Oh, nevermind, just take whichever you think she will like most! And, please, darling, will you give this card to her along with my very best wishes and heartfelt congratulations?" Charles' face immediately brightened up in delight. "Oh Granny!", he almost screamed with teary eyes and enthusiastically wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "Of course, Granny, I will!"

The Queen Mother's birthday celebrations actually did happen on that day. There's also a video of the enormous crowds gathering outside Clarence House.

[lothiriel84]

So Pure in Thought and Word and Deed

He was, in short, the spitting image of her husband, and she felt all the joy she had longed to share with him slip through her fingers and shatter to the ground at her feet.

A Pride and Prejudice ficlet. Darcy/Elizabeth, with Georgiana featuring prominently in her own right.

Not five months into their marriage, Elizabeth began suspecting that she might be with child. Thinking it prudent not to give her mother cause for any premature excitement, she wrote to her aunt Gardiner instead, and promptly received confirmation that, while it was still too soon to tell, all the signs pointed in that direction.  

Her heart full of joy at the prospect, she elected to take a long walk to steady her nerves before breaking the news to her loving husband. As she skirted the small farm at the far side of the park, she was surprised to find Mr Darcy’s favourite mount tied to the large oak tree standing in front of the house. Given that her husband had announced he would be away on business for the entire day, she was quite puzzled as to what his horse could be doing there, and without much consideration on her part, she found herself taking a turn around the modest yet well-kept garden. 

What she found there left her floundering in confusion at first, and then outright dread as the full implications of the scene presenting itself before her eyes started to sink in. There stood Fitzwilliam, bouncing a small child in his arms; the boy could be anywhere between one and two years of age, with a head of dark curls and the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen. He was, in short, the spitting image of her husband, and she felt all the joy she had longed to share with him slip through her fingers and shatter to the ground at her feet. 

Scarcely knowing where she was going, she fled as quickly as her legs would carry her; it was hours later when she eventually found her way back to Pemberley, where she immediately locked herself inside her chambers, ignoring Georgiana’s worried entreaties that she at least consented to have a tray sent in.  

If her husband had come to check on her upon his return later that evening, she did not know, as she had finally succeeded in crying herself to sleep. In the morning she took herself downstairs with something akin to bitter resignation, feeling as if all the happiness they had shared up until that moment had been nothing but a lie, and there was nothing left for her to look forward to anymore.  

“Elizabeth, my dear, have you been unwell?” Fitzwilliam enquired, ever solicitous of her, and it was enough to stoke the embers of her anger once more, despite her better efforts. 

“It is none of your concern, Sir,” she replied with an icy coldness that verged on dangerous. “I would not have you concern yourself on such trifling matters as your wife’s health.” 

Mr Darcy looked as if he had been slapped, and could not seem to find the words to express his confusion at such an abrupt change in her manners towards him. “If I have done something to offend you, Madam, I am deeply sorry for it – though I confess I am thoroughly in the dark as to the nature of my offence.” 

“Then let us talk about it no more. I find I have lost my appetite, so please excuse me if I retire to my rooms.” 

Not ten minutes later, there was a knock at her door, and she once again expressed her wish to be alone, even in the face of Georgiana’s clear distress.  

“Elizabeth, please,” her sister-in-law pleaded through the door. “Whatever the nature of your quarrel, I feel sure it is nothing but a misunderstanding. And you have not eaten since yesterday morning, you cannot go on like this, especially – in your condition.” 

That sweet, innocent Georgiana would figure out her secret before anyone else was something Elizabeth could not have anticipated. Still, she felt entirely too frazzled to face her new sister’s concerns, as well-meant as they were, and merely repeated that she required some rest; Georgiana, she felt sure, was too well-bread to reveal anything of so delicate nature to her brother, and that was the only think that mattered at the moment. 

She did not emerge from her voluntary seclusion for the next two days, though she accepted the trays that were sent to her rooms with absolute punctuality. The mere notion of food revolted her, but she needed to think of her child, if nothing else; it would not do to visit the sins of the father upon such an innocent creature as she was, in all likelihood, carrying inside herself.  

Fitzwilliam looked as startled as she had ever seen him when she finally made an appearance for tea. Still, she refused to meet his gaze, taking her place beside Georgiana instead.  

“Am I allowed to enquire how much longer do you plan to refuse to speak with your own husband, Elizabeth?” he asked of her in a low voice, barely waiting for his sister to excuse herself from company, after pleading a headache that would have scarcely fooled anyone.  

“That’s rich coming from you, Sir,” she shrugged, turning the full force of her irritation onto the slice of bread she was buttering. “I would have thought it congenial to your sensibilities, as you clearly appear to have kept something of much import from your own wife.” 

“I wish you would stop speaking in riddles, Madam,” Fitzwilliam replied, with a touch of his old temper. “Speak plainly, and I promise I shall address any concern you might have about this marriage.” 

Elizabeth considered him for a long moment, wondering how he could act the part of a gentleman with such well-practiced ease when he clearly was not. “Why have you never told me about the child? I think I could have born the proof of your past conduct much better, had I been informed of it directly, rather than having to discover it for myself.” 

All colour left his cheeks, and he stood up abruptly, glancing down to her in something akin to fear. “You have been to Mrs Goddard’s farm, have you not?” 

“I see you are not even making an attempt to deny it,” she stated with a sort of forced calm, clutching at her teacup so tightly that a detached part of herself wondered whether it would shatter in her grip. “I should be grateful for that, I presume. Tell me, is his mother so below you in station you could not bring yourself to act as any honourable man would, or were you so concerned about losing the good opinion of society as to abandon your own flesh and blood to protect your reputation?” 

“It is not as you think it is, Elizabeth,” he forced out with some difficulty, and there was something so pained about his countenance that she almost felt sorry for him. 

“Enlighten me, then. How, pray tell, are you going to explain the presence on your own estate of a child bearing such startling resemblance to yourself?” 

She had the momentary satisfaction of seeing her husband, always so in command of himself, falter before her very eyes. And yet, she did not feel so much vindicated as she felt utterly devastated in the face of such blatant disregard for her natural feelings on his part. “The secret is not mine to tell. I cannot, I will not betray their confidence, not even for your sake.” 

“That’s a very pretty excuse, Sir, but you cannot seriously expect your wife to content herself with letting matters slide, as if it was nothing.” 

“Nor can you expect me to go back on my own word,” he pleaded with her, to no avail. “I am not guilty of the sin you’re so keen to ascribe to me, but that is all I am allowed tell you in good conscience.” 

“Then we have nothing more to say to each other, I find. Good day to you, Sir.” She pushed away from her chair, and was halfway across the room when she very nearly collided with Georgiana, as pale as a ghost, who had apparently rushed in at that very moment. 

“I will not stand for this a moment longer,” she cried out in such anguish that gave even Elizabeth pause. “If you will not tell her, Fitzwilliam, then I shall, and you cannot stop me.” 

“Georgiana,” her brother entreated her, crossing the room in two swift strides, and reaching out for her arm as if to command her to silence. 

Georgiana, however, would not be swayed. “Robert is not Fitzwilliam’s son.” Her voice broke quite pitifully, yet she bravely soldiered on. “He’s his nephew. There, I have said it – despise me, if you will.” 

It took several moments for the full import of her sister-in-law’s words to register with Elizabeth. When they did at last, she found she was very much in need to sit down, and was only able to do so thanks to her husband, who very firmly escorted to the nearest chair. 

“I am so very sorry,” was the only speech she could manage, as Fitzwilliam pressed a glass of water to her lips, coaxing her to take small sips until her fainting fit had passed. “Oh, I shall never forgive myself, for as long as I shall live.” 

“You could not have known,” Georgiana shook her head, and although she still looked very pale and distressed, she offered Elizabeth the faint suggestion of a smile. “I could not bear to be made to marry his father, not after learning of his true intentions towards me. Fitzwilliam has been so very understanding throughout all this; he has done what he thought best to preserve my reputation, all the while ensuring that the child is well looked after, and he shall never want for anything in his life.” 

“You see now why I could not tell you, Elizabeth? I do own that it did not sit well with me, to keep such a thing hidden from my own wife, and that I had not stopped to consider what sort of conclusions you might reach, were you ever to find out – but I admit I had hoped you would trust my word as a gentleman, if nothing else.” 

“I beg your forgiveness, Sir,” she spoke very quietly, much ashamed of her earlier assumptions. “I allowed my fears to run away with me, and I have no excuse for accusing you so unjustly, save perhaps – but now is not the time, not when you have every cause to be displeased with my conduct.” 

Georgiana surprised them all by throwing her arms around her neck. “He shall be so very happy, I feel sure. I know that I am, for both of your sakes.” 

With that, she fled the room for good, leaving a very bemused brother to search his wife’s gaze for anything in the way of an explanation. What he found there, Elizabeth did not precisely know, but it seemed enough for his entire countenance to light up in a manner even she herself had seldom had the good fortune of witnessing before. 

“Oh, my love,” he all but choked out, gathering her to himself and pressing his lips very tenderly to her brow. “When?” 

“Next winter, I believe,” she told him in a voice much trembling with emotion, giving herself up at last to the comforting warmth of his embrace. 

[trashiewrites]

yo, just got some potentially bad news concerning my health... ghost rlly is my comfort character at the moment. do you think you could write something where hes super sweet and comforts reader. or just something rlly sweet and loving. it would really really help. thanks ♡

I was really touched that you reached out, anon, so I made this fic my first priority! I really hope everything turned out okay for you and I wish I could of tailored this more to you but I hope this will do! I really wanted to put all the aspects and it ended up being really long! enjoy!

It's Going To Be Alright

(Ghost X F! Reader)

Words: 2811 (Legit the longest thing I've written I think)

It's funny just how the world works sometimes. You left your house that day to go out for a night in the town with some buddies. The day itself started normally. You woke up wrapped in the warm embrace of your boyfriend's arms, you couldn't help but cuddle in closer especially with how cool it's been getting as of late.

You both get out of bed and make breakfast together. Cold days like these call for delicious pancakes with your favorite toppings, sided with some eggs and other sides you love. Taking that first bite, melted you to your core—nothing like the first bite, especially of something warm.

"Do you have any plans today?" Simon questioned you. Munching quickly so you could answer him back, "don't rush, you'll-" too late, you already were having a coughing fit of something going down the wrong pipe. Simon stood, "Are you okay!"

You nodded as the coughing calmed down, gulping water. "Yeah, yep I'm fine!" Exhaling in relief, you looked back at Simon with a smile, "Anyways, remember I'm heading out with some friends tonight?"

"Ahh right, I remember." He nodded, "By the way, eat slower before you answer! What if you choked?"

"I'd have you to save me?"

"And if I wasn't?" he crossed his arms, assuming victory over this conversation.

"Why would I be talking to myself?" You took another small bite, "plus even if you aren't there, there ought to be someone else to whom I am chatting to." Simon groaned as he placed his hand on his face. "Got you there, didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah; whatever you say (y/n)." You chuckled at his denial. "Anything else you going to do before your party?" You hummed as you thought for a moment.

"Groceries, get some other necessities, and gas my car probably. Gotta prep for next week." You spoke in between bites, "besides that, just the party in the evening."

"First of all, eat first for Christ's sake." You almost spat your drink at his remark, "Secondly, can I come with?" He spoke a wee bit quieter in the second part, it amazed you that after all your years of dating him he is still so shy about some things.

"Of course, you can come!" You stood up took your empty plate and stood beside him, "how could I not take advantage of spending time with my favorite man in the entire world" you leaned down, giving his forehead a big ol' smooch. Then heading to the sink, you began to wash your dishes. "Simon, you are done with your food?"

"Huh what? My plates, right... yeah, I'm done" he hands them to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Resting his chin upon the top of your head. You wiggle in his grasp slightly, "are you Uncomfortable? I can stop..." You shook your head.

"No, I'm fine, I'm all good. Continue sir." You lied; your face said it all but he was behind you. Which you were glad about. For about a week now it's been on and off headaches. Yet you didn't want it to stop you or to worry Simon. He already has so much on his plate. After the dishes, you went to your shared room to get ready. Taking a dose of painkillers to help the headache, making sure Simon wasn't around; Then you took a shower.

Shopping went off without a hitch, to the usual stores with your masked lover was interesting though. Having to explain how he's not planning to steal stuff from one lady was fun. You rubbed his hand knowing he felt awkward about it. Having someone else do the picking up of everything was so nice! Lifting heavy cases of water with ease, man you should do this more often. You grab more of the stuff you know Simon likes cause he's going to be home for a while. Once in a while, he will come up to you with something. He doesn't say anything but you assume he wants it. He doesn't put it in till he gets approval from you, which you always say yes to.  Simon was staring at a package of avocados, intently... You pulled up with the cart and stared at the avocados with him. "Do you want avocados, Simon?" He looks at you, you look at him. He looked back at the avocados, went through them, and felt them out. He decides on one package and gently hands it over. "Avocados it is then." Heading home you couldn't help but feel Simon was in a very pleasant mood, which made you smile. Honestly, in moments like this, you remember why exactly you fell for this man.

You stood in the mirror, towel around your body as you did your make-up. It's been a long time since you've been to a party. You were a bit nervous, especially with the recurring headaches. You analyze your face, maybe you overdid it a bit but you looked amazing. "Can't wait till Simon sees this."

"I'm already seeing it~" You yelped as you turned to see him at the door.

"Simon! Don't fucking do that asshole!" You clenched your towel, making sure it didn't fall.

"Why? Was this supposed to be a surprise?" He chuckled, "Also no need to hold the towel that tight love. It's not like I haven't seen what's under it before." You stood there; heat rushed to your cheeks.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

You sighed as you put on your dress. Giving yourself one last look, you feel rather proud. It's been a while since you gussied up on anything; it was nice to know you still had some skills. You walked out of the bathroom to see Simon sitting on the bed. You wondered if he was waiting for you. "So, how do I look?" You smiled as Simon's head turned up. His eyes went wide seeing you, underneath his mask his mouth was agape. "Speechless?" You did a little twirl; Simon stood up and removed his mask. He walked to her, taking her hand, still not a single word from his lips. "Simon?" You stared into his eyes, pools of brown that had mesmerized you with how complex they are. Yet today, you felt only one thing from his gaze; adoration.

"You look... stunning." He pulled you into an embrace, "I'm quite jealous... Can't keep you all to myself. especially looking like this." his breath lingered on your neck, and his hands roamed your back and side. His fingers fiddled with the rim of your dress, which you quickly grasp and place away. You hummed with playful disapproval, "oh come on," he pouted.

"My rides going to be here any minute, I can't have you ruin my hard work." You pecked his nose then his lips. From your bag, the phone began to ring. "Speak of the devil!" You rushed over, picked up your phone, and took the purse in hand. "Hey, Kayla! You guys outside? Ahuh Okay, See you guys in a minute!" You rushed to slip your shoes on, and a shot of pain rushed to your head. You didn't make a noise but you placed your hand on your head.

"You okay?" You blinked a bit before looking back to Simon.

You laughed nervously, "Yeah, just a little headache!" You smiled, walking to Simon; you grasped his hands. "No need to worry, okay?"

He took a deep breath and placed his lips upon your knuckles. "Just, be careful love. If you need anything don't hesitate to call. I'll be wherever you are in 10 minutes tops." You couldn't help but laugh at the idea of him expertly speeding through the streets.

"Bless your heart Simon," you rested your forehead upon his and softly caressed his cheek. Next thing you hear a car horn outside your house, "must be them..." you whispered.

"Allow me to escort you out?" His tough raspy voice seemed so tender; His eyes never left yours.

"I'd be honored," Simon put on his mask before taking your hand in his large ones. Leading you down the way to the front door. You watched as he began to unlock the door, and couldn't help too long to stay home with him. Plus, probably would be better for those headaches; but canceling now while they wait outside, you'd feel incredibly guilty. You wrapped his waist in an embrace.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

You nodded and spoke just barely enough for him to hear, "Yeah..." he felt so warm in your arms, it was practically the only thing on your mind.

"Doors unlocked," he tapped your hands, "don't want to keep 'em waiting."

"A minute or two never hurt anyone," you released your grasp and walked in front; opening the door. "Don't miss me too much~"   You grasped his hand while heading out the door.

"Don't worry about me, love" both your arms fully extended, fingers begin to slip, " Just have your fun, don't go too crazy." Your hand fell to your side, turning around to see your friends making disgusted faces.

"Cut it with the mushy stuff and hurry (y/n)! The night isn't going to last forever!" Kayla yelled from the window; the other girls cheered.

"Alright, alright!!" You waved back once more, before hopping in.

"(Y/n) is that your boyfriend? He's such a hunk!" One stated, peeking over the seat in front trying to see him.

"Yep, he's mine~"

"Ahh you lucky S.O.B" Another one mentioned, "What does he do? To be that built and have a place like that!"

"Military~" a collective 'oooohhhh' went from throughout the car.

"I mean you struck gold girl! But what's with the mask? Kinda creepy if you ask me." Kayla asked, looking back at her rearview mirror curiously.

"I can't say..." you shrugged.

"Is that an 'I don't know' can't say, or 'that's private information' can't say?" You only shrug back. Throughout the car ride, it was a mix of karaoke and gossip. Also, they compare each other's boyfriends which you pridefully showed off your Simon.

Reaching the party, you felt extremely tired. Your head bursts with pain. As the girls rushed in you stood behind, leaning on the car and holding your head.  You looked back up as a hand took your shoulder, "Hey, you okay? You look like that hurt like a bitch..."

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm good, just a small headache." You faked a smile, yet she didn't look convinced.

"Take it easy, okay? If you need to go home just let me know, okay?" You nodded as you both walked on ahead. Ignoring the pain that rocked your head, trying to make the most of the night. You were cautious but more tired and tired as time went by. You motioned to your group you were going to sit down for a bit; Taking a seat at a table nearby.  Your eyes felt heavy, you didn't think much besides the fact you were tired. The idea of being snuggled up next to your beloved ghost, you longing for warmth. A wave of coldness came over your body and your vision went blank.

The next moment you opened your eyes, you were blinded by bright light. Ears overwhelmed by all sorts of sorts, people talking and beeping. Your heart raced in panic, and your eyes scattered scanning the room; A hospital? What happened and how did you get here? You felt something by your legs, "S-Simon" His head lifted slowly, turning to face you. 

"(y/n)! You're awake!" He jumped to his feet, rushing forward to rest his hand upon your cheeks. "Thank the lord you're awake! Gave me a good scare love..." He pulled you close, your chin rested upon his shoulder. Your mind is fuzzy, trying to figure out what happened before. 

"Simon, what happened?" 

"I wish I knew; I got a call from your phone." He stood back, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, "The damn girl was screaming but I heard hospital and unconscious. Then the paramedic took the phone and explained you were found unconscious." Simon grabbed your hand, "I told you to stay home..." 

"I-I know... I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make you so worried. I just didn't think it was that bad..." silence lingered in the room for a moment, "How long was I out?" 

"Almost 15 hours..." With that, a knock sounded on the door, and a woman in scrubs stood there with a smile. 

"Sorry, I'm not interrupting, am I?" you shook your head, "miss (L/n) I know this is sudden but I'd like to ask you about the situation. Do you remember much of last night?" you again shook your head, her look seemed disappointed. "Were you having any prior pain or anything notable before this?"

"Not-"

"(y/n)." Simon glared sternly at you, "Tell her, or I will." you sighed, looking away from the two. 

"I've had headaches but I wouldn't call it notable..." 

"Not notable? You flinched from the pain." He crossed his arms. The nurse raised her hand, stopping Simon in his words. 

"I get your frustration Mr. Riley but no need." She looked back at you, "How long were these headaches going?" You shuffled uncomfortably; didn't help you are a horrible liar. 

"A short while..." 

"How long (Y/n)?" Simon restated. You sighed knowing your hiding was up, If the nurse didn't see through the lie; Simon would, he always could see through you. 

"A-A week... On and off Ya know." You looked at the two, Simon's brows were raised and his eyes wide. The nurse was also shocked too, but not as apparent. 

"And you didn't think of going to see a doctor?" You shook your head, not sure how to justify your decision. 

"I didn't want to worry anyone, plus... I needed a night out." you scrunched your shoulder, "I just didn't see it as that big of a deal." 

"A week and not a big deal!" Simon raised his voice. 

"Mr. Riley!" The nurse looked back. Simon left the room; you can't imagine how he feels right now. Tears began to well in your eyes, if only you handled all this differently. If you had just told him, none of this would have happened. "Oh sweetheart, he's not mad at you!" The grasped your hand, "He wants to protect you, and I know for a fact he's taking it hard that you went through it for a week. You need to tell people these things, this could be very serious." She spoke calmly, grabbing a tissue box and placing it in front of you.

"I-I know... I-I'm sorry, I just didn't want him to worry." You spoke in broken segments, "He does so much for me and I don't want him to have to worry." The nurse rubbed your hand. You blew your nose with your other. "Is it that bad?"

"We don't know yet, we have to do some tests." she stood up, "For now, I'll give you two some privacy.  We will come to get you for the test in the next hour, okay?" You nodded, she walked out, and there at the door stood Simon. You two just stared in silence, so still, you could hear a pin drop.  

"Simon I-" Your train of thought was interrupted as he closed the door to the room. "Simon?" He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Simon I'm sorry!" You closed your eyes.

"I heard you before," he spoke softly, you flinched as he cupped your face. "Right now, we have to make sure you are okay now; That's what matters to me." You nodded, "Open your eyes for me, love~" You took a deep breath, in front of you was not the masked hard to perceive man you usually saw, but the sincere, caring sweet face with his worried brown eyes. "Promise me you'll tell me these things. I don't care about you worrying me, your safety and health are my first priority." you couldn't get the word out of your mouth, you could only nod. "Say it (y/n)" your lip quivered.

"I-I promise, I'll tell you everything." he smiled, slowly moving a hair from your face.

"Good girl," he leaned in, his kiss was gentle. As if you were fine China, fragile and delicate. He spared not an ounce of care while he held you close to him. 

"Simon," he hummed in response, "What if it's as bad as they said it could be? What if I'm stuck with this? What if-" He placed a finger over your lips.

"Don't think about that," He rested your head upon his chest, "We will worry about that as it comes. For now, relax, I'll be here the entire time." 

"What about work?" 

"They'll understand." He kissed your forehead, "It's going to be alright, okay?" You snuggled in closer, having his arm wrapped around you as if you were back in your own home.

"Okay..."

I'M SORRY IF IT LIKE TOO MUCH BUT I HOPE THE SWEET OVERLOAD WORKED!

ALSO THANK YOU GUYS FOR 400!! IM HONESTLY ASTONISHED

[nihiladditaenihilperdidi]

Bikes Pt. 1 || Rune + Anya || April 29th, 2024

Rune: "Happy birthday. I know you have a bike. Have another."

Anya: Oh my goooooosh. Sir, how is she going to ride two bikes?

Rune: "Like a pair of shoes. You pick what fits your Sunday."

Anya: "Or you can ride one. Let's go."

Rune: "Where?"

Anya: "Anywhere. The park."

Rune: He jumps on one, one leg sticking out as he circles her.

Anya: "Ridiculous man." But she'll get on the other.

Rune: "New Orleans everything you hoped it would be?"

Anya: "I wasn't really hoping for anything. I didn't even know where I was going, until I got there. But it was wonderful. Humid. The people were great."

Rune: His brow furrowed, coming up to ride alongside her. "Work-related?"

Anya: She shook her head. "Lunch related."

Her own words made her laugh softly. "I met a little bird," she explained, glancing over at him to gauge his reaction. "Turns out, he was a familiar."

Rune: His reaction would be a squeaking halt on his - her - bike, dust catching up with his legs as he stared at her with utmost concern.

Anya: Welp. She slowed to a much more reasonable stop, feet dropping to the dirt to walk the bike back to where he lingered. "I'm fine." She'd just get that out of the way, first. "Better than fine. He was very kind."

Rune: Without thinking, he reached out to cup her jaw, looked her over as if for the first time. She was fine. This was fine. This was... fine.

"What... kind... was he? You said bird?"

Anya: She let him examine her, for his own peace of mind. Clearly, she was in perfect health.

"I don't know. He could turn into corvids. Raven, magpie. A crow, I'm assuming. I'm fine," she repeated.

Rune: "Right." He trusted himself, trusted his wards. Had the creature ill intent he would have had a violent coughing fit. Would have made some excuse to turn away. She was still in one piece.

"This is my fault. I brought this shit to your doorstep."

His arm came around her shoulders, face against her neck. Benign creature or not, it was still an effect of a cause.

Anya: She released one handle of the bike to wrap an arm around his waist, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"It's not your fault, because there is no fault. Nothing happened. He saw me feeding the animals and joined them. Stop that."

Rune: He would stop because she asked. Out loud, that is. Perhaps he should ward the barn, too. Just an extra precaution.

At last he leaned back. Squeezed the fuck out of the handles of his bike. "So," deep breath, get over this, "teleportation? Fancy."

Anya: She could see him overthinking this.   A gentle hand came to rest over his. "Relax."

Sighing softly, she settled back, nodding in the direction they'd been heading. "Yes, it was amazing. Like falling into nothing. So convenient."

Rune: Years ago he might have retreated. Pulled his hand away and shut his mind from hers. Refusing to do so took conscious effort. She meant well; she was fine. Didn't make the situation less concerning when he was certain the familiar magnetized to the wards to begin with, which were only there because of him, because of one little possession.

Whatever, don't overthink this.

"About as expensive as spells get." He pushed forward on his pedal, following at her left, naturally.

"Up there with fireballs and cracking a hole in the earth. Maybe moving a house. Turning a mouse into a whale..."

Anya: "It's possible to move a house?" Wild. But perhaps useful, if you were super attached to a place. She hummed as she considered what he said.

"Expensive... like of quintessence?"

Rune: "Did I teach you that?" he scoffed, managing a genuine smile.

Anya: "He did. He didn't go into too much detail, though. Said it was in everything, even mutants. And that mages can get more, from their familiars."

Rune: He could swear he'd said as much. No, he'd said her faith was as good as his own. Something along those lines, years ago. Really, a familiar showing him up was uncalled for.

"Mm. He's not a liar. Give him that."

Anya: "I didn't think he was. He's a sweetheart. I think you'd like him." Possibly. Eventually.

"He said he'd visit again. I'm going to attempt a batch of Zwetschkenknödel. We'll see."

Rune: That had him looking at her, just managing to keep straight. Call it luck.

"You're going to cook?"

Anya: If she wasn't riding, she would have whacked him for the question.

"I said I was going to try. Be nice."

Rune: "I didn't mean anything by it." But he was smiling. Looking ahead, he closed his eyes, leaned back in his seat and held his arms out.

Anya: "Sure you didn't. I'm calling my mama for the recipe, at some point." She looked at him, smiling softly at the display. Beautiful.

"Better than the truck?" she asked, chuckling.

Rune: "Mm." He slowly returned his hands where they belonged, sighing. He needed that. A moment of silly risk. Of wind, of just her voice and darkness behind his eyelids.

"You want me here when you do?"

Anya: "When I do what? Call my mother? Or try to make the dumplings?"

Rune: "Either. Both."

Anya: Her smile was soft. Warm as spring. "Yes, if you want to be. You can try them, too. If they turn out."

Rune: "You say that. 'If I want,' when I'm offering you because I want to be with you."

Anya: That smile threatened to grow. She bit down on it, nodding.

"Just yes, then. I want you there. And I want you to try them." A beat. "But only after I do. Just in case."

Rune: His smile burst into a laugh, brief but genuine. He kept his eyes on the road, knowing if he were to look at her his smile would simply ache.

"Right. Have it your way."

Anya: "They have to be just right!" she insisted, laughing along as easily as breathing. "If you don't like them, it won't be because of my cooking."

Or what passed for it. "Or yours. I've seen you chop fruit. You can watch."

Rune: "Oh! Hey now, I'm not involved," he laughed.

Anya: "You're definitely involved." A grin. "From a distance."

The gentlest teasing. Neither of them belonged in a kitchen. But the idea of having him there through the trial was exciting. She rode in silence for a bit as she thought about it, before her mind drifted elsewhere.

"Did you find whoever it was you were looking for?"

Rune: From such a lovely little nonsense conversation about how terrible and unwelcomed they were in the kitchen, to Aoi Ueno. His smile was a thing of the recent past.

"Mm."

Anya: She didn't intend to steal his smile. Rather than linger on her unintended blunder, she pressed forward.

"That's good. So... have you ever spent time in New Orleans?"

Rune: "No." He should say more. Explain, maybe. Something. He took a breath.

"Enough hunters, vampires, and everything else. They don't need me."

Anya: "And you never go anywhere you aren't needed? Just... for fun?"

Rune: "Coney Island. North Carolina. Upstate New York."

Anya: "Touche." Her shoulders rose and fell. "It's a nice city. I'd go back, to see more of it. I didn't get to snuggle an alligator, yet."

Rune: She was given a look, then. "Yeah? Just a cuddle?"

Anya: "Of course. Think of all of the poor alligators out there who've never been hugged. It's a crime. Heartbreaking."

Rune: "Probably a reason for that. Giant mouth. Rows of teeth. Probably something to do with it."

Anya: She lifted a hand to wave it dismissively. "They can't help that. Doesn't mean they don't deserve a little love. Even if I have to do it myself."

Rune: "That's just who you are. Loving all the - the unlovable."

Anya: "No one is unlovable." Not a shred of doubt in her tone. "Whoever it is. Someone out there is capable of loving them."

Rune: "That's the most optimistic thing you've ever said."

Anya: "It really isn't. It's the truth. And sometimes an ugly one." She shrugged again. "You don't spend enough time on the internet."

Rune: "For what? It's optimistic in my line of work. I -" The corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile. "Anyway."

Anya: "It's useful." And entertaining, but that was a different conversation. She wasn't dying on the modernity hill.

"Even in your line of work," she disagreed, head shaking. What about this hill? Maybe not. "I could be wrong."

But she didn't think so. "Regardless, I'm going to snuggle those alligators. I'll let you know how it goes."

Rune: "You snuggle your alligators." She didn't know, and he'd prefer it stay that way. Let her continue believing it was simply exorcising demons from innocent people, gambling, and searching for missing people. It wasn't a terrible painting, and she could keep her optimism. It was preferable; he'd rather not take her smile.

He turned his bike just a little closer to hers, held his hand out.

Anya: Her mouth curved into that smile he wanted. She had no reason not to offer it. She couldn't know what he didn't share. Her wheel wobbled only a bit as she took that offered hand; she righted herself quickly.

"He liked your wards. The familiar. Said they were strong. I didn't doubt it, but it was good to hear anyway. Have you ever had one?"

Rune: There would be no lacing their fingers, only in case something unexpected happened. But his grip was firm and loving just the same.

Just another first with her.

"Of course they are," said with casual confidence. He shook his head. "Only met one."

Anya: That easy confidence had her smiling, pleased as punch. "Yeah? What was he like?"

Rune: "Still. Elegant. Patient. A spider."

Anya: Her eyebrows rose, at that. "A spider? Interesting. I wonder if they get to choose their form. I didn't think to ask."

Which was a surprise, considering just how much she did ask.

Rune: "I can give you a history lesson. Someone I knew kept a journal all about them. Something to read when snowed in."

Anya: "I'd love that!" She beamed at him, meaning it to her very core. "They're remarkable. Animals who can turn into people? Can do magic? You can probably imagine how excited I was."

Rune: He didn't mean to laugh. He was supposed to be upset, wasn't he? But her enthusiasm was infectious as always.

He squeezed her hand. My love.

"Take with a grain of salt. She didn't have a familiar when I knew her. She had one, once. Nearly died when it - when she died saving her. She called it a bond. They can die of heartbreak and it was similar for her. She said it felt like she couldn't will Quintessence to her bidding for over a year."

Anya: That was a sound she loved to hear. Her grin broadened for just a moment before her expression grew thoughtful. She nodded, gaze distant, not really seeing the familiar path ahead.

"Makes sense. If you're tied so closely to another person, losing them would be devastating. You can tell how much the little bird loves his witch, just by listening to the way he talks about her."

Rune: "Having one drove her to insanity," he said, quietly. The words left his tongue without permission. How much was too much was still touch and go, but, it was a lesson she sought, and he'd rather give what he knew than some little bird.

He shook his head. He'd leave that there, for the moment.

"She had them categorized by rank and abilities in her grimoire. Maybe her familiar told her. Companion types, combat, mentors, mischievous. Everything from rats, bats, machines," he hesitated, "body parts."

There was a movie with something akin to...

"What was it called, the hand in that one movie... With the little girl in black?"

Anya: "Having one or losing one?" The clarification seemed important. She listened patiently, nodding along as she took in new information to consider. Her eyebrows rose at those last two. Interesting, for sure, but not as appealing as animals. Again, she wondered if they got to choose their forms.

"Little girl...? Oh! The Addams Family. Thing. Didn't know he was considered a familiar, but I guess that makes sense."

Rune: "She had pages dedicated to drawings. That thing from the film, almost exactly. A typewriter with teeth - yeah. Machines."

But, her question required walking back a bit. "I knew her after the fact, so I can't say."

Anya: She hummed, considering. The latter made more sense to her, but maybe that was just her view of the world coming into play.

"I definitely want to read it." If only to supplement whatever she learned from Vincent. Different perspectives to form a fuller picture.

"Glad I met a bird. I could feel his mind, you know? Like any other bird, but more... human. Maybe that's not the right word. Structured."

Rune: "You're not supposed to read someone else's grimoire. She didn't... care at the time." He nearly cleared his throat. Swallowed down the desire.

"He didn't do anything untoward?" Don't mind him; his age was showing.

Anya: "Oh. Never mind, then." She didn't know the rules, and she had no intention of breaking them. The last thing she needed was for some pissed-off witch to put a curse on her. She remembered asking Vincent if he was going to turn her into a toad, and had to bite down on a laugh.

"Untoward?" She snorted softly, head shaking. "Not at all. Like I said, he was very kind. He played with babies and danced with an elderly woman. I don't think I was in any danger."

Rune: How very, very lucky. He had swallowed down one emotion but sighed the next one without disguise. The park would be welcome at this point. He knew just what he was going to do when they got there.

But, something caught his attention.

"You said he could be more than one bird?"

Anya: "Mhmm. Different birds in the family Corvidae. He was a raven when he landed on my fence. Very fond of pears."

Rune: "Huh." He'd never heard of that before, but then again, he reminded himself, he'd only met one. Didn't matter how many books he'd read.

Something to jot in his own book, if he remembered.

"You're insatiable now, aren't you?" he asked, finally letting go of her hand.

Anya: She grinned, letting her hand settle back on her handlebar. "I wouldn't say insatiable. But it's nice to know something."

Something was the right word. Vincent had kept mum about certain subjects, too. Maybe that was a trait of the magically gifted. Maybe she just had rotten luck.

"He gave me a few rules about fae, too. Don't say thank you. Don't give something for nothing. I'm basically a goner, if I ever run into one.

Rune: "I told you," he smirked, "throwing apples at confused gods. Same principle. You don't say thank you. You don't refuse, either, but don't eat unless you see them eat first. There's a whole host of rules."

Anya: "So I've learned. He never did tell me how to spot one. Well, he said they have rainbow auras. Not exactly useful."

The park was just past the next turn. Pretty close, all things considered. She pulled onto the paved path that circled the grassy field and the small playground, slowing to a stop.

Rune: Rune leaned the bike against the tree and stretched. The area was clean, and the grass lush. Perfect for what he intended. He walked a ways in, looking for an area near a tree with a good bit of sunshine to crumble onto his back and sprawl.

Anya: She laughed at the display, leaving her bike beside the first. She crossed the grass to join him, folding herself down to sit beside him. "Tired?"

Rune: He shook his head. "Warm." A little big thing to enjoy while the clouds remained parted. He couldn't recall the last time he had basked in the sun like this. It always seemed to be raining where he ended up.

It had been since Christmas since laying eyes on her. Despite months of absence, he felt no pressing sense of urgency. Every other day he was reminded of their goodbye, their embrace. Being here, he didn't know what he'd expected.

"Hey..."

Anya: "Mm." The joys of spring. Her favorite season. He had the right idea about basking in it. She shut her eyes, tilted her face up toward the sun.

"Yes?"

Rune: Multiple questions vied for authority. Ones to push her away. Ones to affirm what had happened was real. So many nights he damn near believed he'd fabricated the experience as some umbral trick of his memories.

Only one way to confirm.

"I love you."

Anya: The words forced the air from her lungs. Anya hadn't forgotten that night, or the morning that had followed. How could she? And it had taken so long for him to return... she'd half worried he wouldn't. She'd been determined not to ruin everything by being presumptuous. But she could be nothing but honest, now.

She filled her aching lungs with a deep breath. Her eyes opened and dropped to meet his.

"I love you. Still." The smallest smile lifted one corner of her mouth. "Have for years."

Rune: His dark gaze met her beautiful greens. Her addition perked the corner of his mouth. This was real. She was real. He'd had to tell himself that before.

"Years?" His hand came to rest over his ribs. "When? Do you remember?"

Anya: She dragged a hand down her face, the act doing nothing to muffle a breathless little laugh.

"No. Maybe?" The memories were colored by her current feelings. She couldn't pinpoint an exact moment.

"Back when I lived in the Bronx, for sure. Maybe it started when you showed up with that damn penguin. I don't know."

Rune: Closing his eyes was easier on his breathing, and kept his world from being a sea of green. His laugh was equally breathless.

"I've always loved you. It's just... evolved. I didn't know what you wanted. Part of me didn't want to know." If he couldn't explain now, when would he ever? Best to continue where they had left off months ago when she struggled to tell him the truth. The tears he never wanted to see again.

But, he could give her something lighter.

"I realized I wanted to kiss you on your birthday. That karaoke bar. What was her name... Destiny?" he scoffed. "I wanted to kiss you... so much."

5:51 PM]Anya: She burst into laughter, then. The real kind that had her tipping back against the grass, hands covering her face. It took a bit for her to calm enough to catch her breath, gasping as she stared up at tree-dappled sunlight.

"G-d, Rune. I spent that entire night wanting to kiss you. Except for the five minutes I wanted to tear that stupid napkin to pieces. I blamed it on the alcohol, but I was just in denial. I felt the same way so many times, after. Stone cold sober."

Rune: His eyes opened to watch her, without realizing he was smiling, with nothing but sweet humor on his features. He brought his other hand behind his head as a cushion.

Reality didn't have to kick him so hard in the diaphragm. He could have this.

"I remember the moment when I knew it was nothing else." Eyes closed again. "The Ferris wheel."

He had a feeling she could fill in the blanks, so he continued.

 "I knew, and I was... so... disappointed. In myself. Because I'll never be a man that can give you the life you deserve."

He had said as much in December, but saying it now, he didn't want to open his eyes and see what he had done.

"...But I thought, if she'll keep me as is, then it's more than I deserve. Just shut the fuck up and enjoy."

Anya: "Really?" She recalled the moment, of course. He'd told her about being an exorcist. She'd been determined to give him a day of peace. And maybe she'd been trying ever since. Maybe that's why she'd felt her confession ruined everything. That look of pain on his face... she didn't want to revisit it.

And here was the sentiment he'd offered all over again. It didn't hurt any less, but she'd had months to re-center herself. She could make one thing abundantly clear.

She rolled onto her side, cheek pillowed on her open palm so she could study him as she spoke.

"Deserve? What does that even mean? What you deserve; what I deserve. You don't owe me anything. You don't have to earn my love. It's yours. Just as you are."

Rune: He would take a moment to bask in her voice and sentiment like the sun, before opening his eyes to face her.

"I can't agree. Love is..." Did he have any room to give his opinion, when he'd never experienced romance wholesomely?

"I don't like it. Not owing. It's not... It's not... committed. It's too casual. Love is..." Every explanation was too revealing. "...Love is a home. I'm not a home."

Anya: "Who told you that?" His smile was home. His laugh. His arms. That he doubted his meaning to her was nothing short of heartbreaking. "Do you believe me? When I tell you how I feel? Do you trust that?"

Rune: Could he just say it? People these days didn't simply say what they were feeling. Not in any meaningful way. They skirted around the topic. They danced. It wasn't even elegant poetry. But to just give - he understood why she struggled. Saying it was one thing. Explaining another entirely.

"I don't doubt what you feel. What I mean is..." He looked to the branches above them, like an intricate nervous system. "...When I was little, I had a neighbor." He was certain he had mentioned her. "She saved me from my father. She cared for me ever since. No matter what, I knew she was next door. Every day. I could rely on her. If she needed anything, she could rely on me. Every morning I'd sneak into her room and light her fire."

Anya: Anya nodded. She remembered. That woman she privately loved, for taking care of a little boy who needed it. Still a wonder of a woman, in her eyes. As much as her own parents.

"You told me about her," she said when he'd finished, quiet as a whisper just audible over the warm breeze. "That's... beautiful. She was a beautiful person, and I wish she was still around. But I knew who you were from the beginning, Rune. Maybe not exactly, but I knew that your work kept you on the move. I haven't forgotten."

Rune: He turned to mirror her stance. "And you're all right with that? Wouldn't you prefer someone you could come home to every day?"

Anya: She gave a helpless little shrug. "I love you. I want you. I can't lie to you and say I don't wish you could stay, but that's the truth. It would be the truth, regardless."

Rune: "That makes me a very selfish man to look at that and smile and not say... I'd be happy for you if you found someone better than me."

But, knowing she would reject his words, he reached out, fingers hovering just shy of her jaw. He could be selfish, for a little while. With her blessing.

"Can I?" Kiss you.

Anya: She scoffed. "Better, he says. If you're selfish, then so am I. I could have kept my mouth shut."

She'd managed to do just that, for years. Her heart felt like it was going to leap free of her chest, but she nodded. "Yes."

Rune: For six years he'd kissed every part of her face but her lips. Come dangerously close, in December, to risking everything for a mutual yearning. The price of caution. It was better to have waited, he thought. For their first kiss to be not a goodbye, but a hello. In a place of warmth.

No more hesitation, then. He cradled her face in his hand, leaned forward and offered his lips. Not a clumsy hungry crash, but an invitation. A savor.

Anya: Exactly as it ought to have been. Far sweeter than whatever they might have managed that drunken night years ago, desperate and half-remembered.

Selfish, she'd said. And there was truth to it. She wanted to keep this moment. Bottle it.

A gentle hand came to rest on his chest, lingering there as she kissed him, slow and sweet.

She pulled back before she could surrender to the impulse to drag him closer, pressed her forehead to his without opening her eyes.

Rune: Better than it might have been. Better than karaoke night, or the Wonder Wheel, or saturated in the taste of tears and desperation. Better than he could have hoped, or still, deserved. But that was his little secret. He didn't know what to call this, other than love. She was his best friend. His dearest. While she fantasized of bottling the memory, his very intention was to do just that. If ever he meandered his way back to Willemstad.

She pulled back, and he leaned forward. His stomach was a pit filled with batting wings. Skin flushed warm from fingertips to his thighs. He felt young, and chased his high with a breath, caught still when she pressed her forehead to his.

Easy now. Easy.

Anya: Surely, everyone in love felt like they'd invented the feeling. Like no one before them could have felt something so intensely. Anya was no exception. That was as perfect a first kiss as anyone had ever experienced. She'd bet her last dollar on it.

Absolutely perfect.

And with it etched flawlessly in stone, she could afford to indulge. Just a little. She'd waited so long. They had.

The hand on his chest slid up to the side of his neck, fingertips just brushing the ends of his hair, curious if his pulse hammered as violently as her own. She kissed him again. Because she could. Because she had to. Just a taste of that desire she'd buried for so long.

Rune: Hammered it did. Not a frantic race, but deep relentless thrumming in his ears. It soothed him.

And so too did her mouth. Rather than lean forward, insisting her body flat against the grass, he did the opposite. His fingers buried in her curls, he laid back. His other hand on her waist, she was encouraged power, encouraged over him, to do as little or as much as she pleased.

Anya: That shift caught her by surprise, but it was not an unpleasant one. She kept her palm pressed to his pulse, solid reassurance that he felt as she did. That this was real.

She deepened the kiss with his encouragement, forgetting everything but the two of them. For a moment. She sought the taste of him.

But this was a public park. And though there was no one there when they arrived, that could change at any moment. She pulled back with a shuddering breath, face flushed. She bit down on a smile, feeling positively giddy. Ridiculous. She buried the expression in the crook of his neck.

Rune: She sought taste, and he offered his tongue. Warmer than any part of his body she had yet felt. Fingers, still cool to the touch, massaged the back of her neck. Her hair was a curtain, making their world just a little more private.

Her stuttered breath gave him pause, but her smile rejuvenated his soul, and he laughed when he felt her nose against his skin.

"Ukrywanie?" He nuzzled against her.

Anya: "Nie." She absolutely was. Not from him. From her own ridiculous heart. "Kochasz mnie."

Words mumbled against his skin like she could trap them there. The Anya of five years prior would not have believed it. Hell, the Anya of five months ago wouldn't have, either.

"You still have the best laugh, you know."

Rune: Her hair was slowly parted to her other side, opening the curtain to find a family of five settling in on the other side of the park. Best they stopped when they had, but he wasn't ready to separate. They'd had enough of that.

"Silly spatzi." He held her face in both hands and sighed. He needed to see her. Admire as freely as they could tolerate.

"There's no equivalent of 'I love you' in Dutch. Love isn't a verb. You know what we say?"

Anya: She was focused on him, not anyone else. Had she spotted that family, she might have buried her face even deeper. He could look his fill, but there were few she granted the privilege of such vulnerability. Even he hadn't seen her scar in its entirety. Not yet?

His touch soothed the warmth in her cheeks. She gave the smallest shake of her head. "No. What?"

Rune: His thumbs slowly swept and circled her cheeks. She was warm, but he didn't have to question why. Plenty of reasons, good ones.

"To hold. You say, 'I'm holding you.' Ik hou van jou. Or you say, Ik hou je vast. 'I'm holding you tight.'"

Anya: " Ik hou je vast," she repeated, slowly. A little clumsily. Testing out the words, yes, but also a declaration. Her smile was warmer than the spring air, or her own face.

"That's beautiful. I like it.  Ik hou je vast." Better, that time. Still imperfect.

Rune: "Ik hou van jou," he whispered, smiled a layered smile. Surreal, beautiful, lingering concern, and vivid elation. Lust. He couldn't pretend it didn't exist. No sense in trying, anymore.

Anya: Anya could lower her head to kiss him, again. The realization was positively dizzying. She might have done just that, if not for the child's bright laughter she could hear. Relatively distant, but too close all the same.

Just a quick one, then. It held an unspoken desire she'd be happy to explore. Later. She wasn't inclined to move, just yet. She shifted to pillow her head on his shoulder. Let's just lie here, for a while. Enjoy the sun.

Rune: For every swift kiss, she would find him chasing her lips, realizing too late he would just have to be patient. A different kind of torture than he was accustomed.

His head fell back in the grass with a sigh. One hand resting gently on her cheek, the other combed through his hair, squeezed. Yes, that was pain. This was still real.

Just a week ago he was hunting with Rhys' coterie. He could hardly call his fingers stain-free, but she didn't... care. Didn't notice. Loved him anyway. A concept he would continue to struggle.

But he could just lay there, quiet, caressing her, and live in the moment.

Anya: She couldn't indulge as she desired in such a public space, but that hardly meant that she didn't appreciate his chasing mouth. She smiled privately at the sigh that followed. Her hand slid down to settle against his chest, again.

There would be no gradual drift into sleep. Despite the warmth. Despite the breeze. Despite the steadiness of Rune's breathing. This wasn't a moment to be wasted on a nap. Instead, she replayed the taste of his lips and the sensation of his fingers in her hair. She thought of all the time she'd craved exactly this. Moments collected over half a decade.

"I've never been to your place in Brooklyn," she said, apropos of nothing. Her voice was low enough that it was barely audible over breeze and birdsong. "I want to see it."

 Rune: The warmth tempted more than sleep. He felt restful. Calm. He didn't want to close his eyes and miss any subtleties. He just wanted to exist with her.

The statement stumbled his heart and he didn't know why at first. It was reality, tapping a jagged finger on his temple. He had offered years ago. He had to accept this.

"It's more a um... haven, than my house, you know." Some of her hair was curled around his finger. "Okay. Whenever you want."

Anya: Hesitation. She didn't know what caused it. Maybe it had been an emergencies-only offer. She still didn't see herself requiring it. Now, like then, she made being able to look after herself a priority.

"It's fine. I was just thinking about it. My birthday. Walking past my building so the night would last a little longer. I don't miss that flat, but I do miss the zoo. My neighbor. Having everything close by."

Rune: "We can make a day of it. See your old friends. The portal, before, that's my home. Willemstad. What you'll see at Hillkate, grain of salt." The please was in his tone.

"You've always been welcome. I just wanted..." He scoffed, shook his head. "Never mind."

Anya: "No 'never mind.'" She brushed her nose against his cheek, gave his chest a gentle tap with her fingertips. None of that. "What did you want?"

Rune: He took her fingers and studied them. Rolled his thumb over each one. "Wanted you to just show up."

Anya: "I couldn't have." She shook her head, eyes closing against the very thought. "Just show up? I don't know what I would've done if you told me to leave. Moved back to Poland, probably."

Rune: "To leave?" He tried to move just enough to look at her. "Why would...?" But, she wasn't wrong. Not entirely. Never would he have told her to leave. But at his worst, he would have looked at her with dead eyes. Those nights staring at blank walls. A different kind of sitting in existence.

"How... deep... do you want this to go?"

Anya: She would meet his gaze unflinchingly. She'd spoken the truth. Anya had been terrified of asking too much, even then. Not a risk she'd been brave enough to take. December had been... different.

"How deep do I want what to go?"

Rune: He shouldn't have asked. The question opened a formidable door with a jagged knob. He refused to regret her, but he might regret himself.

"We can stay like this. Visiting you. All of this. The more you know of me, the... less you might appreciate loving me."

Anya: "I want to know." Had he doubted her answer for a second? Truly? "I always have. From that first night."

Rune: "Always is pretty bold."

Anya: She gave him a look. She'd said what she'd said. "It's the truth. You liked to evade my questions. I didn't learn about what you did until that day at Coney Island."

Rune: "It's what I do," he shrugged. "I love you, and I dodge your questions like bullets."

Anya: "Yes, I know. And I really love you, because that's the most frustrating shit in the world. You're so stubborn. But you know that."

Rune: Of course he did, because he was smiling at the sky.

"You've no room to speak."

Anya: "Me? Nie. I used to think I was stubborn, but that was before I met you. It's not even a competition. You do that... that stare until you get your way." Never mind that she would square her shoulders and stare right back. Beside the point.

Rune: "Ja? Where are the gold coins I gave you? I know you found them."

Anya: "Um." Damn. "They're in a safe place."

Rune: Slow breath. She should know what's coming. "Anyaaaaa."

Anya: She did know, but it didn't stop her from needing to turn her face against his shoulder to muffle a laugh. "You can't 'Anya' me for that! You left an actual bag of gold under my pillow. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Rune: "Auction!"

His arms wrapped around her shoulders then. Swayed just a little. Caught in the moment as if for the first time. How many times he'd be swept up by her he didn't know.

Anya: "Auction, he says!" She was still laughing. "Seriously?"

Anya was secure in that embrace, turning her head to press a kiss to the side of his face. She hadn't given the coins back. Or away. It was progress, of a sort. He was an exception to the rule.

"It's... an emergency fund. Something will break, eventually. Or I'll need to take time off, for whatever reason. I do appreciate it."

Rune: Her warmth was damn near a distraction from the pressing question he had. If not for the family across the park...

"Emergency fund," he sighed. "When do you have time to relax? Who's going to watch them when we go to the city?"

Anya: "I relax!" Perhaps not as often as she used to, but that was part of actualizing her dream. She didn't regret it. "Call the neighbors. Hire a service if they can't help out. It's what I do when I go camping, or to visit my parents. I make it work."

Rune: So she said. Sometimes their similarities were just as dangerous as their differences. Workaholics in their own right.

"One of those'll happen tomorrow?" he asked, arms still firm around her shoulders. By now he was petting her. Cradling her preciously.

Anya: "It can, I'm sure." The nature of this nearness was new, maybe. But it was like breathing. They'd always found excuses to touch. "Are we going tomorrow?"

Rune: In this their thoughts were one. He tried to recall the first time she held his hand. It wasn't coming to him.

"If nothing's stopping you, nothing's stopping me," he decided.

Anya: "I'll make a couple of calls." Spontaneity. Not something she could afford all that much, these days. Once again, an exception.

Vincent's way of travel was really something to be envied. To pop over to another state and be back before dinner.

"I need my own familiar. A teleporting lizard, or something. Maybe a gecko. Something small enough to carry."

Rune: "It's one of the more difficult magicks to master." He still wasn't comfortable with what had happened, but nothing doing. He also didn't know what was worse: the idea of Anya as a mage, or her bond with a familiar.

"You have something better. You've an army at your disposal."

Anya: "Seems like it would be worth the effort. Just for the time it would save."

She chuckled, at that. It was an interesting take on her power. Leave it to Rune.

"An army? Maybe. But an army doesn't help me see the mountains whenever I want. Or get homemade jarzynowa. Or... I don't know. Stick my feet in a river."

She waved a hand. Just rambling.

"If I ever need to run somebody off with a bear, I'm golden."

Rune: "Is that you putting your power down, spatzi? Better not be."

He raised his hand from her hair, scoffed. "I think I'm trapped."

Anya: "Of course not. You know how proud I am of my ability. I wouldn't want to do anything else. I'm just talking."

She lifted from his shoulder, hands moving to disentangle him. She laughed softly. "Sorry."

Rune: "My fault. I'm playing with your hair like a five-year-old." But there was a distinct absence of shame in his tone. He was doing exactly what he wanted to do, and now she was holding his hand, if only to set him free.

Anya: How convenient. She threaded her fingers with his, her laughter quiet and knowing. "No, no. I like it. And I can't really blame you, anyway. I play with it all the time. It's strangely entertaining."

Rune: "It soothes you." That much he'd always known.

But now he was watching their hands, expression soft.

Anya: "Mm." She supposed. She didn't think about it much. He'd pointed out something similar before, hadn't he? Years ago. "It's a distraction, I guess."

Her free hand went to his hair, stroking through the grown-out roots, the faded color. "You haven't touched this since, have you?"

Rune: The shake of his head could have been mistaken for his own pulse. He hadn't touched it since. Allowing it to fade to some sun-kissed brunette with orange hints. The usual after a dye job.

"You want another color?"

Anya: "Do you?" Callused fingers stroked along his scalp. Touching for the sake of touching, now. "I don't mind playing stylist, again. It didn't turn out too bad, last time. But it wasn't dyed, before. I don't know if you can trust me with bleach."

Rune: All of that touching was as comforting as the sun. Eyes closing, breathing slow.

"We can just get a box of black, or red," he shrugged. "Doesn't matter what color I am with those." The corner of his mouth curled and tightened. "Unless you like this."

Anya: "I like this." In truth, she'd seen him go through a number of styles. She'd found fault with none of them, but that was definitely bias. He could dye it purple and be no less appealing. "But whenever you want to change it again, I'm your girl. I don't know where I'd be without YouTube."

Rune: "You're my girl," he echoed, feeling the weight of bliss in that meaningful sentence.

Anya: "Yes." Her laugh was a quiet huff of air. She'd always been quick to laugh, to smile, but this was getting out of hand. She had to reel it in. But she'd had a taste of those lips and she wanted more. A feather-light kiss to the hinge of his jaw would have to be enough.

"A public park really was not the place to have this conversation."

Rune: "I think it's perfect," he grinned. Lord have mercy, he was grinning. "We'll look back on this and say, 'Oh how romantic.'" But, he would also say, this kept him in check. Had he the first taste of her lips in her home, he wasn't certain where they would be, but he was certain where he would want them to be.

"Where do you want to go?"

Anya: "You're probably right." And he likely was. That didn't make her any more patient in the here and now. Future Anya and her memories were the least of her concern. She couldn't look at that grin for another second, turning her head to stare up at the leaves, battling her own face-aching smile.

"I want... to know when was the last time you sat on a playground swing."

Rune: He didn't have to think about the answer. Just shook his head. "My mentor had a rope swing in his backyard for his niece. I'd sometimes sit out there and read." He supposed that home was his playground, in its own way.

Anya: "And how long ago was that?" She didn't have to wait for an answer to know that it was too long. She sat up without releasing his hand, already missing the press of his body against hers. But she could hear the rhythmic slap of running shoes against concrete and knew that they had even more company. If she lay there a moment longer she'd combust.

"Come on."

Rune: "That would be... 1883," he sighed. At some point, giving dates would become a burden, wouldn't it? She would grow tired of hearing his age. She was going to call him an old man again. Yet despite this, he smiled, sitting up with a yawn and a stretch, taking her hand with. He really didn't care. She'd tell him he was being silly.

"To home?"

Anya: She let out a low whistle. Would she ever be able to wrap her head around those types of dates? It felt like another world. But then, so did the Umbra he'd told her about. He was simply an impossible man.

"Definitely too long," she said, confirming her own assumption out loud. Her mouth curved into a private little smile at that word. Home. Whether he really meant it or it was just a turn of phrase, it warmed her.

"To the swings. Of course."

Rune: "Oh. Of course." For once, he wasn't on alert. No aura reading, no time skipping; he brushed against no one's mind but her own.

It was a park in upstate New York. The one benefit of her living here was a small peace of mind, but, a familiar had him questioning that. And a demon.

"I should put a swing in your yard," he mused. Even standing, their hands were one.

Anya: He'd receive no argument from Anya, on this subject. It was the sort of offer that didn't leave her feeling like she was taking more than she could give. She beamed, plucking bits of grass from her hair as she nodded.

"Yes. Yes, you should. There's a nice tree back there I think would work."

She didn't hurry across the grass to the little playground, taking her time to reach the row of swings. She didn't release him when she claimed one.

Rune: He'd never once installed a swing, but he knew knots, and that was all that really mattered. A quality rope that wouldn't tear her skin was second priority to falling from a shitty knot.

Odd, that a little off-hand project like this would make him... excited. It was benign.

He took to the swing beside her.

"I'll do it before I leave. I have some other things to give you, too."

Anya: She kicked off, looking only for a breeze to tickle her skin. Thoughts of daredevil jumps and scraped knees of yesteryear had her chuckling to herself.

"What things?"

Her necklace, she figured. She'd been missing it, but she was waiting to ask. The park had been an unexpected detour. But what else?

Rune: "Patience," he smiled, barely swinging. His arms wrapped around the chains on either end, letting himself simply exist in suspension.

Anya: "Ruuuuuuuuune." She borrowed his familiar tone, though she didn't quite manage to look irritated with her gentle hint of a smile.

She leaned back and shut her eyes, letting the wind tease through her hair. Not near as dizzying as an amusement park ride, but centering nonetheless.

Rune: He was up from his swing when her eyes closed. Soon behind her, gentle fingertips pressed to her lower back, pushing her forward.

Anya: Anya's eyes opened on the upswing, head tipping back just a little further. She offered her upside down Rune a brilliant smile. If he wanted to lend his hands, she wasn't complaining. "Higher."

Rune: Higher, then. He pushed more firmly, taking a step back to avoid collision. His smile wrinkled his eyes and cheeks. She looked so free, so relaxed. More than he could say he'd ever seen before, and in his presence that was saying something.

Anya: Well, why not? She could afford a little playfulness on such a beautiful day. Of course, she had more than sunny skies to buoy her spirits. She'd swing until she gained enough height, and fling herself from the seat at the very top. She landed neatly on her feet, laughing. No scraped knees. She wasn't nine, anymore.

"Ready to head back?" she asked, turning to face him.

Rune: Never in his life had Rune wished more to know a spell in the sphere of Forces than that moment. If she had hurt herself there was nothing he could have done to prevent injury, only a flimsy healing spell. His heart skipped a beat, but still, he laughed. Came around to her side offering his hand.

"Wherever you want."

Anya: If she'd been aware of his worries, she'd have dismissed them. She took his hand as easily as she always did, holding it briefly between both of hers.

"Wherever I want, hm? I could say the moon."

Or just meander across the grass to where they'd left the bikes. She still couldn't quite believe he'd shown up with one.

Rune: "You can say anything and I'll try." Keyword try. He didn't want her expectations skyrocketing with their exchange of love.

Which begged the question, what were they?

"Anya..."

Anya: That had her laughing softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I appreciate it, but I think we can stay on the planet for now."

She looked over at her name. "Hmm?"

Rune: Inquiring labels, he decided, was silly and unnecessary. Thinking quickly, he asked, "What do you want for dinner?"

Anya: "Hm." She considered for a moment. Dinner was the furthest thing from her mind. "I'd say Indian, but if we're going to the city tomorrow, it doesn't make sense to make that drive right now. Breakfast for dinner? Or whatever, really. I'm flexible."

Rune: "Breakfast for dinner. Soft boiled eggs and toast." It didn't matter to him, either. It wasn't about the food but whom he was having it with. He kissed her hand and released, climbing back onto the pastel green bike.

Anya: "Sounds like a plan," she said, giving a decisive nod. Sure. One less thing to worry about later, she supposed. An impulse spurred her that she realized she could now act on. She stepped forward to take his face in both of her hands and press a kiss to his lips. Her smile was sunny when she backed away to claim the other bike, swinging a leg over with easy grace and pulling out onto the path. She trusted that he'd follow.

"A little early to be thinking about dinner," she mused aloud, glancing at him. "Are you hungry?"

Rune: The words had been said. They'd had their first kiss. And still, Rune was caught by such pleasant surprise to have his face cradled in warm hands and lips to adore. She couldn't just walk away from that. Not with his arm around her waist. He sat up from the seat of his bike and stole one for himself for good measure.

That felt so fucking good.

"Not really. But... we're learning to cook."

Anya: She was smiling like an idiot, she knew. She could feel it in the ache of her cheeks. But at least her heart had regained a normal rhythm after its stumble at his touch.

"Oh, are we?" she asked, eyebrows raised at him. She needed to watch where she was going. She forced her gaze back to the road. "More than the zwetschgenknödel?"

Rune: "More than zwetschgenknödel. Everything I can cook is in one hand. We can do better."

He didn't want her to be afraid of the stove anymore. He never wanted her to be afraid, but if this was one area he could help fix, why shouldn't he? It was what she deserved.

Rune rode ahead of her, only to circle her bike with a soft laugh.

Anya: There was no denying that the idea made her nervous. She'd avoided learning the skill with good reason, despite having been blessed with three parents who were gifted cooks. Memories of standing on a stool between her mother and father, helping the prepare meals were faded nearly to the point of nonexistence.

But she'd always felt safe in Rune's presence. It was worth a try, at least. "Ok. Yes, we can try it. But if dinner is inedible, I'm ordering takeout."

Her gaze followed him as he circled, laugh bright.

"Ridiculous man. What are you doing?"

Rune: "Mich? Gar nichts." He circled again, pinched - gently, mind you - at her ribs as he drove past.

Doing things, experiencing things he never got to in his youth. She gave him the safe space to do so. Besides, an hour or two from now, her patience and courage would be tested. He would rather she have something like this to look back on, if it helped at all.

Anya: She yelped, a sound which spilled into delighted laughter. "Hey! Lächerlicher Mann."

He was just as ridiculous in German, after all. "Wenn wir kochen wollen, müssen wir auf den Markt gehen. Ich habe keine Eier mehr."

She wobbled slightly as she pulled her phone from her pocket. They didn't have much time. Grinning, she put on a burst of speed, muscled legs pedaling hard.

"Keep up!"

Rune: "Aye Aye, Kapitän." The last time he'd been on a bike was Willemstad, and he didn't want to put forth the effort counting the months. Instead, he remained in bliss, watching her figure leave a trail of dust in her wake. Up he raised. No magic, just a human effort to match her speed and avoid the oncoming truck. A boxer's head sticking out the back window, ears and tongue taken by the wind.

Anya: A puppy! And never mind that the dog was clearly fully grown. She was still a darling baby. Anya waved without slowing. She couldn't lose her head start.  Well... maybe she could. Just enough for him to catch up.

Rune: Rune just laughed. He wanted to tell her to be careful at her speed, but she was fine flying off the swings, she'd be fine now. He would just position himself on the innermost part of the road, putting a barrier of himself between her and traffic. Action over words.

Anya: She noticed, of course. There was really nothing to say about it. He loved her. And she loved him all the more for the consideration, even if she would be perfectly fine.

The market could hardly be called such. It consisted of a handful of stalls in the back half of a hardware store parking lot. But the faces were familiar and the produce was as fresh as it got. She dismounted as they drew close, walking it the rest of the way.

"I guess I will be getting some use out of my new bike." After all, the one Rune had bought her had a basket.

Rune: Her statement caused a smug little smile. Indeed, she'd have to pedal with a little more caution, but the basket was there for this exact reason. And perhaps someday a lazy bird, fat raccoon, or curious cat.

"This where you always go?" For future reference. Last time he was at her home, they hadn't shopped.

Anya: Cheeky. But so cute it made her chest ache. She left her bike propped up on its kickstand by the stall on the end, not worried in the least about anything happening to it.

"Mm. Not always. I make the drive out to Costco to get things in bulk. Or the little grocery store in town, sometimes, but the produce is best here."

Rune: "How often are you microwaving meals?" Questions he'd never asked before just kept coming and coming. He didn't know what changes were about to happen, but, these sorts of questions were benign. They would still be themselves. Still order takeaway. Still avoid the kitchen most days. He would still be gone, eventually.

He had only just arrived. That truth was pushed aside.

"Eggs and what else?"

Anya: "Like... to cook them? Basically never? To reheat leftovers? Regularly."

The truth was the truth. She wasn't exactly ashamed, even if she did frequently get scolded for not eating enough. She ate plenty, but often raw. She had takeout most when Rune was around.

"Mm. I don't know. We can just browse." Eggs and toast didn't require anything else, really. But since they were already there, she'd take advantage and stock up.

"Eggs first," she decided, taking his hand and heading for the far end of the market.

Rune: "What do we need for zwetschgenknödel?" He glanced back to their bikes. Safe, of course. This wasn't the heart of any borough, but still. No harm.

The impulse to offer her gifts came like a skipped heartbeat, but for once he was without his coat. It was both warm enough and he was awake enough not to be concerned with its nearness. It was safe in her foyer, but he suddenly felt naked without it.

"Apples? Grapes?"

Anya: "Plums and potatoes. We'll have to make a trip to get the right ones. And I still have to call Mama."

She'd worry about that later.

"Eggs," she repeated, stroking her thumb over the back of his hand. He seemed restless. She stopped before they reached the stand she was seeking. "Are you ok?"

Rune: "I know eggs," he scoffed, smiling. He squeezed her fingers.

"Ok," he assured. "I just... want to give your present. It's in my coat." He leaned in close, kissed her jaw, and lingered by her ear. "Stay out of my head," he teased.

Anya: Ah, yes. The present that she needed to be patient for. She resisted the urge to press him for answers again, only chuckling at his words.

"Did you grow wings when I wasn't looking?"

The man at the last stall looked to be in his fifties or sixties, he was all smiles for their approach, his gray eyes lingering on Rune for a moment before settling on her.

"Afternoon, Miss Anya!"

"Hi!" That gaze darted to the mage again and Anya took the hint.

"Rune, Douglas. Douglas, Rune."

"Good to meet you, young man."

She forced herself to bite down hard on a smile.

Rune: He couldn't very well tell her to be patient and be restless himself, but contradiction was human nature, and her excitement was rubbing off on him.

The comment turned his head, her hand still firmly in his. The man could look all he wanted; the exorcist was looking right back. Protective, nosy, or innocently curious. He would bet on the first two. This was Anya, after all. Her hand was switched to his left, offering his right for shaking, index finger coming out to check the man's pulse. He would never simply assume what someone was. Not anymore.

"Likewise," he greeted.

Anya: Nothing more than a human in decent enough health. Certainly nosy, and perhaps a little protective. Easily dismissed with her genuine smile. He gave Rune's hand a firm shake and looked back to a familiar face.

"What can I get you, today?"

"A dozen eggs and a pound of butter. How's Sue Ellen?" she asked, as he ducked to shift through his crates. She looked to Rune, reclaiming his right hand. "One of his cows."

"She's doing great! Much better. And if you'll take--"

Anya cut him off before he could finish. It was clearly an old argument. Her tone was firm. "I'm paying for the eggs, Doug."

Rune: She could have his right; holding hands was nothing new to their relationship, but wanting his hand at all times - and vice versa - was nothing short of refreshing to his soul. Romance abounds; he didn't believe he would ever be accustomed.

"Oh, you are?" An opening to tease would almost always be taken. Especially on this old, old subject. "We need to get you chickens," he said privately.

Anya: "Yes, I am." She'd look at Rune just as flatly as she had Douglas, the brightness in her eyes giving her amusement away.

"And what am I going to do with all of those eggs?" Well, they were learning to cook, apparently. Still.

Doug straightened, placing a carton of eggs and a brick of butter wrapped in beeswax paper on the counter. "Fifty cents," he said, gaze boring into Anya's.

She rolled her eyes and fished her wallet from her pocket. A quick hand slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter and snagged their purchase, swiftly tugging Rune away despite Doug's friendly protests.

Rune: She took the words right out of his thoughts. "We'll need three dozen eggs with what we're about to attempt." But, he wouldn't argue. They might get lucky and get it right the first time. He wouldn't allow anything to burn on his watch. For her sake.

And off they went. Rune didn't even bother looking back.

"I like Doug," he smirked.

Anya: She scoffed. "You would."

Anya wouldn't deny he was a good man. Friendly and kind. Stubborn as a boar, just like someone else she knew.

"So... we're doing soft-boiled eggs and toast. Are we trying to cook anything else? Or maybe just cut up some fruit?" She'd spotted some berries that looked fantastic.

Rune: "Craving grapes." Noticing her gaze, he meandered them over to the stall. "Do you realize how expensive they used to be? Or how you had to eat them There was a whole process."

Anya: "We can do grapes. What kind of process is involved in eating grapes? Spitting out seeds?"

Rune: Rune went into detail about the bygone intricacies of grape etiquette. The use of grape scissors, hiding the argument of seeds and skin - yes, the skin, too - by a half-closed hand, and piling the mess on the side of one's plate.

But now? Now he was tugging one from the bunch and tossing it in the air to catch with his mouth. How times have changed.

Anya: Fascinating. And excessive. She listened to his every word with genuine interest. She didn't envy how involved it seemed.

Four different cartons of berries and another of grapes. She'd had to abandon his hand to carry her share of their haul. Anya would stop by a stall for a bag of fresh spinach as well. Something for a nice salad, another day. Her new basket would be brimming.

"Anything else?"

Rune: Her basket was exactly what he was thinking about. He smiled at her bundle and shook his head.

"Let me carry some." Couldn't have her carrying everything, man or woman, he didn't like his hands being empty.

"Heading back?"

Anya: He could grab whatever he liked. No complaints from Anya. She turned to offer the sellers a parting smile as they reached the bikes.

"Yes, we should probably get everything home. Don't want to risk breaking the eggs on a joy ride."

She hummed as she considered how best to load.

Rune: One of the bags was tied around his wrist. This was how the assortment of berries was getting home. She could make do with the eggs and grapes in the basket.

"No more holding hands," he said sternly, putting on his best sober face.

Anya: Anya pouted pitifully, managing to hold it for a moment before chuckling. "For now. When we're back, all bets are off.

She loaded the basket and hopped on. No more rushing, either. She'd take off for home at a much more measured pace.

Rune: Back to that familiar house with all of its awaiting animals. The familiar comforting scents, knowing each room and the warmth it carried. Knowing she was safe with wards untouched. Wards he needed to expand upon, but, not yet. The bag of berries was placed on the counter, he backtracked to the foyer for his coat. He returned with it on his shoulders; this wasn't him leaving. She should know by now, the ride home had given him a chill.

From his inner pocket came a square black box. Her gold necklace lay within, with one tiny addition. A dainty gold and emerald star charm.

"You wanted a way to know I'm alright. I have some magic for you."

Anya: The house was small and she'd given him the tour last time. Rune had free reign to go where he pleased. Anya would busy herself with putting things away and greeting her animals.

He was back with a box and she took it with reverent hands. She lifted that dainty charm with a single finger, her smile impossibly soft.

"It's so pretty. How... how does it work?"

Rune: Quietly, Rune reached out to position her fingers, pinching the tiny jewel between thumb and middle finger.

"Hold like this and think of me. You have to mean it."

He raised his left hand. To the new silver, emerald, and gold accented ring on his middle finger. The scorpions sleeping on either side slowly came to life. Pinched at the center stone.

Rune squeezed his thumb over the top of the ring. There, she would see a glow from her jewel, and feel a pulse against the pads of her fingers. His pulse.

Anya: Anya didn't know what she'd been expecting. Perhaps a similar subtlety to the first spell he'd ever shown her. This... was something altogether different. That stone began to pulse between her fingers and it threw her own heart off rhythm. She blinked, and could guess how bright her eyes had become. The subtle burn behind them had her blinking again, releasing the jewel with a breath that quivered slightly.

"Thank you," she whispered, because she could say nothing else. Even with their love confessed, she could not look at him. She turned away to pluck the chain from the box, holding it out on two fingers in offering.

"Help me put it on?" she asked, voice still low. She removed the lovebird perched on her shoulder and set her on the counter, before gathering the thick curtain of her hair to give him access.

Rune: Never had he expected to see a shine in her eyes. So often from laughter, of course, but nothing like this. Though he didn't understand, he was content to know she was happy.

At least, he assumed happy. He took a breath, opening his mind to her. Without anyone to invade their privacy, he could have this. Enjoy feeling what she felt; he was old; the little subtleties made him feel closer to her.

His arm came around her neck, unclasping the necklace to reclasp behind her. A task which took seconds, yet he lingered. Admired her skin, her hair, her hand. Warm lips pressed to the nape of her neck.

Anya: Happy, yes. Touched. Relieved. And a love so potent she had to steady herself from the weight of it. The kiss to her nape made her shiver. Just a little.

With a deep inhale, she turned, letting her hair tumble back into place. Now her hand was free to settle against the side of his neck the other coming up to grip her pendant. Back where it belonged.

She kissed him deeply, then. It was far less clumsy than anything she might have said.

Rune: He couldn't remark on what he hadn't felt. Clumsy was hers to keep. Just as careful was his.

For years their lust, their love had been mutual. He couldn't fathom what it was about him that appealed to her. He would take his gifts with a grateful bow. What he couldn't say about himself didn't matter, when he could write poetry about her.

She held his neck, and he held her waist. His other hand cupped her jaw, thumb slowly petting her cheek. She could kiss him as deeply as she pleased. His mouth was supple, yielding, yet eager.

Anya: Perhaps in time she would stop reeling over his reciprocation. For now, it was still overwhelming. She hummed softly against his lips, loosing her vice grip on the pendant to rest a hand on the opposite side of his neck as well.

She could lose hours this way, she realized. If he let her.

Socked feet backed blindly toward the hall, gentle hands tugging him along toward the sofa. The chair. The bed. Wherever. She was unwilling to pull away from his lips long enough to say so.

Rune: A hand came out to brace against the wall before impact. They were in the hallway now, but he didn't know where she was going. She was in charge as they backed into the living room, surrounded of course by curious and confused and loyal animals. He expected one to peck or bite, assuming him an assailant on their master, and was prepared to take a wound in stride.

A thought that caused the smallest laugh.

"We have an audience."

Anya: He was perfectly safe. The only animal likely to assault him had been left in the kitchen. Nothing to do with protectiveness, and everything to do with ruling her domain with an iron fist. Or... beak, rather.

Anya was accustomed to the constant company. But Rune's laughter, his words, had her pulling away for his sake. She nearly stepped on a cat as she did. Momo? No, Brutus. She slid him carefully aside with her foot.

"I should... um, feed them. It's early, but if we're going to be cooking it's probably for the best."

Rune: Though she had pulled away, his hands lingered. And in between each pause of her speech was a tiny kiss. An apology for breaking whatever spell had taken them.

"Food. Right," he smiled.

As tempting as speeding ahead was, he didn't want to. Kisses were one thing; the scenery had been perfect. Anything else should have as much care.

"I'll boil the eggs. What do you want with your toast?"

Anya: It was wise, she assured herself, nodding at his words. There was plenty to be done, anyway.

"Avocado," she answered, easily. "And chili oil. It's homemade." Not by her, obviously.

Rune could hold her for as long as he pleased, but she'd set to work as soon as she was released, combing fingers through her hair until it was detangled enough to braid.

Rune: Another temptation, but he couldn't hold her forever. There would be plenty of time, soon enough. Overthinking would be the death of them.

But, his hand lingered still at her hip. His other finger raised. "I... am the master of boiled eggs." He paused. "Stay away from the stove. I've got it."

One final kiss, and he was back to the kitchen.

Anya: She snorted a soft laugh. "I trust your skill."

And he wouldn't have to do any convincing to keep her away from the stove. Quite the opposite, actually. Her fingers brushed his cheek as he left, and she watched him until he disappeared.

To business, then. When her hair was neatly braided, she'd grab her wireless ear buds. Easier to work and talk when her hands were free. She'd pass Rune in the kitchen a short while later, on her way to the back door and the yard beyond, Ewa at her heels. She was already chatting warmly with June as she did.

"...really great! How's Cath? Did you tell her that I got her..."

Rune: Names he would have to learn. Some names he'd already heard in passing. Folks he knew only as Mama and Papa, father, mother. He knew her neighbors in the Bronx more than the person on the phone. In a way, it was safer.

And despite these thoughts, she was going to Hillkate tomorrow. He must have been insane.

Four eggs were set to boil. He looked around the fridge and pantry for vinegar. He didn't know the science, only what he'd seen the nuns do back in Brooklyn.

A glance out the window, before busying himself tidying up whatever needed cleaning.

Anya: She was back ten minutes later, brushing bits of straw from her clothes just outside the door. She stepped inside and quickly toed out of her boots.

"The Rogers will look after the place, while we're gone." Such good people. They'd never need to pay for her expertise, where their horses were concerned.

Rune: The question he knew she would call ridiculous tingled his tongue. Was this really what she wanted? He would be in and out of her life, yes, but Hillkate was one more step, one more piece. One she might not appreciate. Who he became when on duty wasn't the man she loved.

Rune turned to face her, creating a barrier between her and the gas stove.

"What time tomorrow?"

Anya: She shrugged. "That's up to you. It's your place. Cathy's helped out enough to know the schedule. I'll probably take care of the morning, but after that..."

True, that she would have waved away his question. She wouldn't have asked if she didn't want to see.  Stove or no, she needed to get to the refrigerator to finish her feeding. She gave it a wide berth as she crossed, refusing to look or even get near enough to feel its heat.

Rune: "Mm." The stove was turned off when she neared. The pot was transferred to the sink, and the eggs to a bowl filled with ice water.

His mouth opened. Closed. No, no. It could wait. He knew better than most people the art of timing. Had clapped his hands and snapped his fingers enough times, had glimpsed various outcomes with a simple wink to know what he wanted to say wouldn't penetrate. She was beautifully stubborn. They were two of a kind. And he knew, deep down, what he wanted to say was just empty caution, and she would call him silly, or ridiculous.

"Do you trust me?"

Anya: Honey would lose her mind over the berries they'd purchased. She pulled out the cartons and meat for her carnivores. She was grabbing bowls and lick mats from the cabinet when he spoke.

"Yes. Did you think that changed?"

Rune: Rather than answer, he continued, "I want to change this to electric." He spun his finger. "Means switching everything on gas."

Anya: "Oh. Um." She blinked. "That sounds expensive."

Rune: "Is this your forever home?"

Anya: "I think so. It's where I built my life."

Rune: "Then it's an investment." He turned back to her, leaned against the kitchen sink. "A gas stove is more precise. Nothing is going to boil over. Electric takes getting used to," certainly took him a while, "but... no flame."

Anya: She nodded. The logic was sound enough. "I trust you," she told him, again. She certainly trusted him not to burn the place down. And it was sweet of him to think of her, to want to make her feel safe.

"Just let me know how much."

Rune: "Twelve hundred kisses," he smirked.

Anya: "In US dollars," she said, trying to look stern but unable to fight her smile. "But I'll kiss you, anyway. It's going to take some time to get up to twelve hundred."

Rune: "I'm counting on it." With the stove off, he trusted holding his hand out wouldn't bring her consternation.

Anya: She set the stainless steel bowl she was holding aside and took his hand readily. "How long do you think it'll take?"

Realizing, she laughed at her own question. "Switching to electric, not the kissing."

Rune: His laugh was silent. "I'll look. This is where that bag of gold comes in handy." With a gentle pull, his arms were back around her, feeling right at home. "Stove, furnace, dryer, it'll all need switching."

What a mundane, human conversation. How sweet, and enjoyable.

Anya: She shook her head at him, not even bothering to fight her smile. "See? You're waaaaay more stubborn than I am."

He was spending that bag of gold on her one way or another. Her arms draped lazily over his shoulders. "Fine, fine. You win. This time. Switch whatever you need to."

Rune: "Yeah?" It was all for one thing, and one thing only. He tilted his head to the stove. "Won't be as frightening?" he whispered.

Anya: Her fingers lightly stroked the hair at his nape. He loved her. What else could inspire such concern? Such care?

She shook her head, just the slightest movement. "No. It should be much better."

Still hot, but no flame.

Rune: His hand had been in his hair before, but now everything felt just a little warmer. But, this was still Rune. Still wanting to polish every stone in her path.

"I'll get started on that. We'll take the coins with us tomorrow."

Anya: "Cooking lessons, installing a swing, and overhauling my utilities? That sounds like a lot to take on." Even for an impossible man.

"You know I'm happy to just... see you, right?"

Rune: His smile returned, realizing, "When have you ever just seen me?"

Anya: "Ok, going to a karaoke bar or an amusement park is not the same as buying three new appliances."

Rune: "Everything I've ever done with you... is as selfish as it gets."

Anya: "There's nothing selfish about spending time with someone. You're too generous, actually. I can't give you half of that." It still bothered her, but he'd heard this all before.

Rune: You don't realize the extent of what you give me. It was a thought, a feeling, and nothing more. One she might feel if she tried no differently than the little charm around her neck.

"You think you owe me for anything?"

Anya: Her head tipped one way, then the other. "No. Not really. But that's beside the point. You're not selfish for this. Any of it."

Rune: "Why do you think it's not selfish?" He softly squeezed her waist, content to just hold her. Just one day of absolute freedom, and this was his new favorite hobby.

Anya: Her fingers still toyed in his hair, a thoughtless indulgence. "Because two people who love each other spending time together isn't selfish. It just isn't. It's... the most normal thing in the world."

Rune: "Does this feel normal?" Not a tease, and not rhetorical. He wanted to know how she felt as he slowly leaned into her hands.

Anya: "This?" His arms around her? Hers around him? "Yes. The rest is a little uncommon but so are we."

Rune: "I think we're pretty fucking uncommon," he chuckled, swaying her from side to side.

Anya: She feigned a scoff. "You see ghosts; I talk to animals. Doesn't everybody? Totally normal."

Rune: He would much rather their idiosyncrasies than the ridiculous arguments he'd seen in his long life. Jealousy was always, always bitter. He couldn't say he'd never tasted it; that was usually the time to run.

"As normal as twenty pets!"

Anya: "Absolutely. We're completely average." She smiled. And that army of animals needed to be fed. She'd been distracted for too long, already. She tightened her hold briefly before lowering her arms.

"I should get back to it."

Rune: "Mm. I need to make a phone call." Which he would make while peeling eggs, phone squished between his head and shoulder after a few quick taps.

Anya: Only a nod in response as she picked up the bowl she'd set aside. As ever, prepping food for her animals was familiar work. She'd piece together a feast for her carnivores and wash her hands before making an equally elaborate berry salad for Honey.

Rune: Rune didn't care that she was still in the room. There was nothing to hide from this conversation. He had made a decision seconds before announcing the call, that he couldn't hide everything from her. Years ago he had invited her to Hillkate. They said I love yours. She was finally going. She was chipping and chipping at his walls, his expectations. She could have one more, and one more.

The man on the other end of the line was greeted with a sigh. Something loud on the other end, like coughing, could be heard clear across the room.

"I can hear you out of my left fucking ear, Thomas. Get Jesse on the line."

Thomas might as well have been swallowing the microphone.

"You ain't called for six fuckin' months?" he wheezed, stammering over his words. "You said you'd be by to look at the items I got and you fuckin' ghosted me!"

Rune pulled the phone away from his ear, pressed to his shoulder as he stared off into space. Six months? Fucking Umbra.

"What month is it?" he whispered to Anya.

Anya: She glanced up at the sound of that nasty cough, pulling Papryczka from her leg for the third time in as many minutes. Whoever it was sounded awful.

It felt rude to listen in, but Rune hadn't left the room. It wasn't exactly a quiet conversation. She continued the work of laying down feeders until he spoke to her.

"April?" It was a question, but not about the date. Rather, about how he didn't know what month it was.

Rune: More staring off into space. The man, Thomas, didn't bother calling out to him. Instead, shouting across whatever room for a woman with a voice like a pack of cigarettes.

"No," Rune said at last, "it was January, Thomas! I was in Brooklyn. I was in Brooklyn because I was upstate days before that!"

"No, November I -" static, rustling. The living rasp took the phone away.

"Four months is still four months," she said. "Where did you get stuck this time?"

If Rune hesitated, it was only for a breath. Enough time to roll an egg over the counter to crack it.

"Shadowlands. Aoi Ueno got lost."

"Oh, honey. What do you want? Supplies?"

"Thinking about selling some of my coins." A glance was given to Anya. Yes?

Anya: The last mat was down and the fiery cat along with it. She could leave, but it seemed that Rune was content with her presence. So, she leaned against the counter, plucking a blueberry from Honey's bowl and pushing it between her lips.

Shadowlands. Another part of the Umbra he'd told her about, years ago. And that's where he'd gone after she'd left him at the edge of the city.

She shrugged at his look, then nodded. Yes, of course. They were still his coins, as far as she was concerned. If he wanted to sell them to overhaul her system, he was welcome. She'd already given the go-ahead.

Rune: He still had to be sure. Where she saw them as his, he regarded the opposite. Saying they were his was compartmentalization. She was no one's business unless she wanted to be.

"Oh, sure, honey. Bring em by. Same cut as usual."

"That's fine. Won't be much. Just to tide me over."

"Oh, lose another bet? What did you bet this time? Lost some years didn't you?"

"I'm as fresh as the spring rain, Jesse. I'll see you tomorrow."

The two hung up. His brick phone tossed on the counter.

Anya: "I guess we're adding selling coins to tomorrow's agenda," she said, smiling over another berry. The last. Honey needed to eat her fill.

"What did she mean by 'lost some years'?"

He'd lost months, apparently-- not knowing it was April. Perhaps he could lose years at a time. That sounded like a nightmare.

Rune: "Oh," he echoed, mimicking Jesse's rasp.

But his smile dropped at her question. No turning back. What part of him was the worst part of him? She would tell him, eventually.

His hand hovered by his face, giving a toothy presentation. "How I've lasted this long."

Anya: Hm. That vanishing smile didn't bode well. But she'd asked and wanted an answer. If he didn't plan on being evasive, she'd listen. She gestured with the bowl. Go on.

Rune: More, then. "Betting years of my life with people like me. That's what she meant."

Anya: "Years of your life?" She inhaled deeply and released the breath with an audible whoosh. It was a question answered that she'd had for years. Anya had imagined a spell. Perhaps a potion of some sort. "Risky gamble."

Then, again... his inherent luck surely played a factor. Still.

"You must win a lot."

Rune: "Bets start with months. Ten years maximum, most places." He was staring at the floor, now.

"Lost a few. I know what I look like fifty." He gestured at a whisp of hair. "Get some gray here."

Anya: That had her cracking a smile. "Cute. I like the salt and pepper look."

But he wasn't meeting her gaze, wasn't matching her smile with one of his own.

"What is it?"

Rune: She was taking it well. He had assumed she would have been offended on some moral ground. His shoulders sagged an inch.

"Just..." He looked up, and gave her what she wanted. "Just you being you, is the sweetest thing."

Anya: The look she gave him was affectionately bemused. What on Earth had he been expecting? Still, his smile was back and that was good enough for her.

"Ridiculous. I'm pretty terrible at being anybody else, so I guess you lucked out."

She reached out to give his wrist a squeeze. "I need to feed Honey."

Rune: "Luckiest man in the world." And he knew it. Down to his bones and his soul he knew it.

"I'll be here. Anyone want an egg?"

Anya: "Go for it," she said, already walking towards the living room and her bedroom beyond. "Caesar loves them. Careful with Papryczka. I don't want her to take your fingers with it."

Business as usual. She'd return just a few minutes later with a drowsy Honey clinging to her neck. "Remember Rune, kochanie? Want to say hello?"

Rune: Papryczka had grown so much. He wondered where Momo was. Probably sleeping. He tried to get Caesar to sit, tossing a whole egg his way. Wasn't about to try his luck with another trick with the beast.

But it was Honey that reignited the light in his eyes.

"You remember me," he cooed. "We gotta catch up!"

Anya: She did, of course. As Anya had promised she would after the gummies. The mutant made no move to stop the kinkajou from reaching over to climb the mage. She'd be aiming for the top of his head, just as before.

Anya set the still-full bowl on the counter. "Got all your fingers?"

Rune: "No one's made a try for them yet." Not in this house. His eyes closed when a paw used his nose for leverage. He felt blindly at the bowl for a fruit offering.

Anya: "Mm. So you passed inspection," she teased, plucking a blackberry from the bowl and handing it to him. "Congratulations."

While he reacquainted himself with her kinkajou, she'd grab the bag of birdseed from the pantry. "Need rescuing?" she asked, once she'd emerged.

Rune: "No, no. Just like old times." He would eventually move her, but for now, he was enjoying himself. The blackberry was offered and taken with guesto. Eventually, some of that would stain his shirt, but he was prepared for the mess this time.

Anya: Anya giggled at the sight, her smile sunny as spring. She did love how he interacted with her animal. If he hadn't won her over years ago, that certainly would have tipped the odds irrevocably.

"Ok, then. Have fun, you two."

She'd just take her time with the last of the feeding, returning to the kitchen a while later to start cleanup. Always the routine.

Rune: Balancing Honey on his head, he buttoned his shirt, narrowing the mess to just one article of clothing, before finally lowering the creature to his chest to properly feed.

He needed four hands. There was still toast to make, but he didn't trust leaving Honey to hang of her own accord.

"How long will she live?" he asked.

Anya: Anya could manage toast well enough on her own. He could cuddle Honey for as long as he pleased. For now, she was elbow-deep in suds and smiling crookedly at him.

"As many as thirty years, if she's well taken care of." Which she would be, obviously. "You're going to spoil her, if you keep it up. Just make sure she eats some of that spinach. Don't fall for the face."

Rune: Crooked, straight, or curved, every shape of smile from Anya was beautiful, and distracting.

"Are you fostering anyone," he asked, offering Honey some spinach, "or do you intend to keep everyone?" His reason for asking might be left to himself, but, he had one place in mind that could use a morale boost.

Anya: Honey would just ignore that and reach for another berry herself.

"Not at the moment. I do foster, but I'm terrible at it. Not the taking care part, the finding a new home part. Caesar and Brutus were both supposed to be fostered. Why do you ask?"

Rune: Rune took some steps back from the bowl, wanting to limit her options to the spinach, as her mama wanted.

"Just curious."

Anya: Well, if there was no other option. Fine.

Anya nodded, turning back to the sink. Even years later, she had a habit of watching him. "Sometimes. If I'm ever looking after a ferret or sable or something, I'll call you."

Rune: Ah. He just smiled and shook his head. He couldn't keep everything vague around her. Even before today. Almost every day in her presence he said more than he intended. What did this one little thing matter?

"It's not for me."

Anya: "No? Then who?" It wasn't so serious. Just vague curiosity. Not the sort of question to make press, or keep her up at night.

Rune: "A little Orthodox private school near Hillkate."

Anya: "I love you." She had the freedom to say it, now. It helped ease some of the pressure in her chest that swelled when he was being particularly impossible. "We'll make a quick stop tomorrow morning. Or whenever we leave."

Still very much up to him.

Rune: "What? What for?" What did he do? He was utterly oblivious for once.

Anya: "Because you're you," she chuckled, shaking her head. The last mat was rinsed and left to dry. She dried her hands on a towel before turning to face him. "What do you want on your toast?"

Rune: A blackberry and strawberry were offered as choices, curious which Honey would grab first.

He was still hung up on her random declaration when she popped a question.

"Butter and egg."

A little silence, another handful of fruit.

"Ik hou van jou."

Anya: The blackberry. But she'd down it in seconds and reach for the strawberry soon after.

Anya nodded, grabbing the loaf from the bread box and a serrated knife from the drawer. If she was going to venture into the kitchen, baking would be far more appealing, she thought. Endless amounts of bread and pastries.

His own declaration had her smiling down at the counter. She hadn't needed him to echo the sentiment, but she liked the way it made her heart stumble, anyway.

"Two pieces?"

Rune: "Two." Like old times. That much he remembered. The hours before and after possession were fuzzy, months later. They usually were. He needed to see someone about that.

"You would go to a school just because I mentioned it?"

Anya: Another nod, and she carved off four thick slices to slide into the toaster oven. Then, to the fridge to grab the grapes to be rinsed and dried.

"If there are kids who could use an animal to love, why wouldn't I? The health benefits are documented. And if you care enough to bring it up... then it matters to me."

Rune: You catch the little things, he thought. The things he didn't consider in himself, she saw. Back and forth, was this deserved or not?

"Mm." That went without saying. His own childhood could have used a little more happiness.

"I know the principal. If... you're serious about swinging by."

Anya: "Of course I'm serious." She offered him a bowl of cleaned grapes, smiling when Honey made a grab for them.

"Why wouldn't I be serious? We can stop by the shelter. They call me in when there's an injury or illness they can't handle themselves. I'm sure they've got someone suitable for a school. Maybe not a puppy or a kitten, if it means more work for the adults. But a house-trained older dog? A cat with a good temperament? Sure! You should probably call ahead and clear it with them, though."

Rune: "I was thinking more like a bird or a hamster. Isn't that what they give little children to teach them responsibility?"

He shook his head. "I'll ask what he thinks when we're there. Just an innocent hello."

Anya: She'd assumed a boarding school, but she shrugged. "Not a bird. I love them, but they require a lot of attention and they're loud. Not good for a classroom. A hamster could work, but they don't live for very long."

She snapped her fingers. "Little tortoise. Russian, maybe. They're pretty low maintenance, but they'll need fresh water and food. Good to teach responsibility. Adults can clean the tank. They'll live fifty years or more if they're well taken care of. The kids could come back to visit when they have their own kids. Grandkids, even."

But she was getting waaaaaay ahead of herself. Just a hello. She shook her head and turned to watch the bread toast, mindful of the color. "Ignore me. I'd love to say hi."

Rune: Fruit was passed to the kinkajou as he watched her, not realizing he was smiling again. Damn habit it was. Honey remained oblivious, as usual. Her world was fruit and making a mess of his shirt. This was fine, he told himself again.

"I could never ignore you. Didn't expect all the enthusiasm."

Anya: She switched off the oven with a shrug. "It's... important. Good for the kids. Good for the animal."

Where had she put that mitt? The dish towel would do well enough. She gritted her teeth as she reached into the too-hot toaster oven to pull the tray free. Done and done. She shut it quickly and took a breath, setting the toast aside to cool a bit as she made for the fridge and the butter within.

"Just about done here, if you want to get cleaned up. I can take Honey."

Rune: Rune stilled, watching her until the moment was over. He didn't know what he would have done had she needed... something. But, he couldn't take his eyes off her, just in case.

"Fine. My hair's more interesting to her right now, anyway." Was it a wonder she even recognized him, he realized. He'd had three different styles in her presence; all she really had to go on was his scent.

Anya: Chuckling, she placed the butter on the counter. Everything else was done; she'd let him butter his own toast.

"Chodź tu, słoneczka," she murmured, pulling a very curious kinkajou from the mage's head. "You have to stop making such a mess. Rune's going to run out of shirts."

That wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, actually. She grinned at the thought and wet a rag to clean the juice from Honey's fur.

Rune: Rune blinked, staring off at nothing with a curious brow, before looking at her. He found a smile. That certainly hadn't been him.

What was he supposed to be doing? Right. Cleaning up, then - whatever came next. He shrugged the thin outer layer from his shoulders, placed by the sink to be washed by hand. His dark indigo vest was removed as well, along with the first two buttons of his shirt.

Did this please her?

Rune: Rune blinked, staring off at nothing with a curious brow, before looking at her. He found a smile. That certainly hadn't been him.

What was he supposed to be doing? Right. Cleaning up, then - whatever came next. He shrugged the thin outer layer from his shoulders, placed by the sink to be washed by hand. His dark indigo vest was removed as well, along with the first two buttons of his shirt.

Did this please her?

Anya: Honey endured her wipe-down admirably. It was better than a bath. Anya debated putting her down so they could eat, but let the kinkajou cling to her back, instead.

She turned to see that Rune had made himself more comfortable. Pleased? Yes, she was. She bit her lip to fight another smile, pulling plates down from the cabinet to keep herself from staring. Was that allowed, now? She hadn't decided.

Toast on plates. Plates on her tiny kitchen table. Two eggs for each of them. She grabbed half an avocado wrapped in beeswax paper from the fridge and a butter knife. There was nothing left to keep her busy. She sat.

Rune: Rune washed his hands and made an attempt at one of the stains on his clothes to no avail. He couldn't remember the name of the product his neighbor used, or if it still existed.

He wondered if asking if Anya knew was offensive. He decided it wasn't after just a second of consideration. She lived alone, after all. Knowing how to take care of herself was a characteristic of independence.

"I'm shit at this," he decided, abandoning his clothes to join her.

Anya: She gave a soft laugh and held out the knife in offering. He could use it, first. She'd just grab a handful of grapes and plop them onto her plate.

"I'll take care of it. You don't want to know the wide array of stains I have to get out of my clothes. All the time. Juice is easy."

Rune: "All I know is blood," he muttered. Droplets were easy to remove, but when blood or some ectoplasmic muck covered more than 30% of his clothes, they were tossed. Too many precious vintage were lost this way before he stuck to a modern black suit when on duty.

Anya: "I can do blood, too." But that maybe wasn't the best subject for dinner conversation. Now that he was across from her, it wasn't as easy to distract herself from that hint of skin. She pressed a grape between her lips and studied her very interesting dinner plate.

"I'll take care of it," she repeated, glancing up because she couldn't not. "After dinner."

Rune: She would glance up to find him looking with abandon. She had her reasons for knowing blood. Animals, he assumed, but still, he didn't know whether to be impressed or concerned. Both felt correct.

"Thank you."

Anya: "Ohne Ursache." She waved a hand, grabbing another grape and passing it back to a squeaky Honey. He was doing plenty for her, during his stay. This wasn't reciprocation, exactly. Just doing for someone she loved.

She reached for her jar of chili oil.

"What do you want to do after dinner?"

Rune: "I hadn't thought that far ahead." Finally, he looked away, splitting his soft-boiled egg open, satisfied by the golden treasure oozing out over his toast. Some butter, salt and pepper later, she should have known what was coming. His mouth was out of commission for a minute.

Anya: Anya certainly had. At least hypothetically. She grabbed for the knife when he'd finished with it, instead of tugging at her braid. None of that. She carved neat slices into her avocado and spread them evenly across each piece of toast. Everything but her grapes were drizzled in a generous amount of chili oil. Seeing to his shirt would take a little time. And...

"I'll call my parents," she said, after she'd swallowed her first mouthful. It was a little late for them, but she knew they were still up. "Get the list of what I'll need for the dumplings. Feel free to make yourself at home."

Rune: "We've done this before," he finally said. "And every time, feels as though we've done it a thousand times."

Rune stared at the table a moment, scoffed.

"Back in 1924, I read about a family that claimed they were haunted by a spirit. The newspaper left out that it was their daughter. Diana. I still remember what she looked like. She wouldn't move on until she knew her baby sister survived. She couldn't find her and wouldn't leave. Hunters have a name for it, when wraiths are stuck because of something, or someone. I remember her hair. Like yours. Large eyes, like yours. Sharp chin. Sweet voice. I found her teddy bear. That cheered her up."

His hands dropped to his lap.

"When I first met you, I thought you were her. Little Diana, reincarnated, all grown up. All her teddies have heartbeats now."

Anya: She looked up from her toast, prepared to ask him what it was, exactly, that they'd done before. But her mouth was still full and Rune was pressing on. She listened to his recounting in silence, those wide eyes he spoke of blinking at him. He'd known her for years. What, in this moment, had sparked such a memory? It was... sad. The grieving family. And that poor little girl.

"I can't really tell you that you're right or wrong, about that." She'd swallowed; her voice was gentle. "This is the only life I remember. Good and bad, I've always just been Anya."

Her shoulders rose and fell a little helplessly. "I assume if you thought that I was her, that she eventually moved on. Do... do you know how she died?"

Rune: "I made certain she moved on." Of that, he didn't have to wonder. Just the rest of it.

The spark, as she thought it, was the freedom their love had offered to say what he was thinking. What he would have otherwise kept to himself. As he'd said, this wasn't the first time he'd thought about Diana in her presence.

"Pneumonia. She moved on once I told her that her sister survived."

Anya: "I'm glad that she did," Anya murmured. She went on, to clarify. "For both girls. That Diana was able to move on, and that her sister survived. I hope her family had an easier time, when she was at peace."

She gave a little nod, only to herself, and took a thoughtful bite of her toast. It was a long moment before she spoke again. "I've never really thought of reincarnation. Of coming back, or being here before. I wonder if my mother ever will." Or if she'd ever left in the first place. Did she still haunt those woods where they once lived so happily? Anya certainly hoped not.

Rune: Rune pushed aside his plate. Elbows on the table, she was once again his entire world.

"Do you want me to find out?" he asked, softly.

Anya: "To find out what? About my mother? If she... came back?"

Rune: "Anything you want."

Anya: "I don't know," she confessed. And it was a confession. Nothing she'd say to anyone else in the world. "I want to think that she's at peace, but if she isn't... well, it would be pretty selfish of me not to do something about it." Or have him do so, as would be the case.

Rune: "Why in - Why would that be selfish? I'm still learning how you use this word. Maybe it's my English." His sigh had a trace of humor. "You love her. If you want to know, what do I say? About everything?"

Anya: There was nothing to smile about on the subject of her dead mother. But there she was with a hint of one, anyway. It wasn't her mother. It was him. Of course she knew what he would say. "This isn't about 'Anya getting what she wants.' What would be selfish is not wanting to know, because I don't want to find out she's been suffering for over two decades."

Rune: Fine, fair. He could see what she meant, now. Still, he decided to press on, but with a new strategy.

"Do you have a photograph? A physical one, not something on your phone."

Anya: She shook her head. "Nothing survived but me." She wished she did. Maybe her memories wouldn't be so fuzzy.

Rune: "No one has one? Something we can find online and print, maybe? It would help. I know how we may find out."

Anya: Her shoulders rose and fell again. "I don't have any other relatives that I know of. No aunts, or uncles, or cousins that might have something. I know for a fact that my grandparents are all dead. And the internet wasn't exactly what it is today, back then. I can try to do a little digging. Ask my parents, maybe."

Rune: He held his hands out, to say, with your permission, "I'll do some digging of my own. For now, describe her to me. Her face, her voice. Her full name."

Anya: She released a long breath. Why was she suddenly nervous? This was Rune. And her mother. She shut her eyes to summon the memory of her.

"Her name was Magda Eisenhardt. She... looked like me. Or, I look like her. Her skin was a little deeper than mine. Just a little. Smooth like glass. Her hair was darker. Almost black, but curly, like mine. Big brown eyes. Tall, I think. But maybe that was just my perspective. I was little, at the time. She was... beautiful. Gentle and soft-spoken, even when she was scolding me. Or my father. Um. What else?"

Rune: The only explanation for her apprehension was the subject itself. Tender, as vital memories could be.

"That's fine. Perfect. Did she have any scars that you remember? Something she was passionate about?"

Anya: She gave the tiniest shake of her head. The skin she remembered was flawless. Nothing like her ruined back.

Anya was so very wrong about those scars, but her memories were faded and rose-tinted. "I don't know. She loved music? She'd put on records and dance with my father. She baked a lot. Her food was amazing."

Rune: Rune breathed deep from his nostrils, looked around the room and back. He knew about rose-tinted lenses, but also the antithesis of jade. He couldn't say whether she wore either one.

Rather than ask for a pen, Rune retrieved his coat, feeling in the inner pocket for his own.

"Magda Eisenhardt." He bit his lip. "Don't suppose you know her maiden name?"

Anya: Ah, yes. A question she could answer properly. That much, she'd been told. The family lost to them when her mother had chosen her father to wed. "Gurzsky."

Rune: "Some wraiths choose their birth name, some keep what they died with. And some change their names in the Shadowlands. They get to be who they really want to be."

He met her eyes. "If she's..." Well, no need to finish that sentence.

The question was, who did he want to summon? A kind and fumbling grandfather, a moody borderline poltergeist, or a riddler?

The last buttons of his shirt were unfastened. He took to his knees in the kitchen, tucked away near the sink. There he unshouldered the left side of his shirt, drawing a wide circle around his heart.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want. This won't take long."

Anya: She nodded. That made sense. Covering their bases. She hoped she'd given him enough information to know the truth. Or maybe she didn't. She still didn't know.

Practically shirtless on his knees, again. They'd been there before. At least he wasn't wet, this time. Anya was a little  too nervous to be properly distracted by his display, however.

"I'm staying." Despite her nerves, there wasn't a hint of doubt in her tone. But she would pull Honey from her back, cuddling the kinkajou against her chest.

Rune: "Whatever you see, trust me, I'm fine." More sigils swept from one side of his pec to the other. "His name is No. He doesn't speak a lick of English. Sometimes trades information for a ride in my skin. He's harmless, just loud. If you're really worried, put yourself in a salt circle."

Anya: "I'll be fine," she assured him. Maybe she was assuring herself as well. Either way, she was staying parked right where she was, Honey in her arms and eyes glued to Rune.

Rune: Rune closed his eyes as he waited. If this counted as being on duty, then for the next ten minutes he had to pretend Anya didn't exist. This was a hunt of his own accord. Watching her would only distract him.

Eyes slowly opened, revealing a wall of sclera. Further and further back they rolled, until new red-blue eyes appeared from beneath.

"Ima wa nanidesu ka?"

Eyes rolled from above. Brown, this time. Gently and evenly, Rune recounted every last detail Anya had offered. Silence. "Pōrando." Poland. More silence. Magda Eisenhardt, he said, followed by Gurzsky.

Blue eyes. "Boku wa asobitaidesu."

Brown eyes looked to Anya. This was for her. He trusted No with his life.

"One hour," he said in English.

Anya: Unsettling. That was the kindest word she use to describe watching his eyes roll out of sight, replaced with a pair she did not recognize. Less charitable options were dismissed. This was Rune. A side of himself he'd kept hidden from her, but very much someone she loved. It was less terrifying than the demon, for sure. Small mercies.

She recognized nothing beyond her mother's name in the exchange. A hand stroked Honey's dense fur. She didn't once look away.

Rune spoke to her and she nodded, releasing a held breath. "Ok. An hour. Do... you have to stay there the entire time?"

Rune: Rune swallowed, his laugh silent. "No the - I was talking to him." But to answer her question, he got to his feet, pulling his shirt back over to button.

"I don't know when he'll be back. Until then, this sigil remains open."

He took a breath. No always gave him a headache.

"An hour is how long he'll use my body, when this is over."

Anya: "Ah." She nodded. Apparently that much English he understood. Her eyes widened at his last statement. A willing possession. It seemed a pretty steep price to pay for information she wasn't even sure she wanted. Too much, on her behalf.

"Use your body for what?"

Rune: He had said as much in English for her. In hindsight, that was probably silly.

"Well, last time he ate everything in my fridge, which wasn't much, drank all of my genever, and sunbathed on my roof."

Anya: "Hm." She kissed the top of Honey's head. Seemed harmless enough. Still. "You don't have to, you know. It's fine. I'm sure she's fine. Long gone."

Rune: "We've already agreed, and I'm a man of my word."

Still, he leaned against the counter. "Whatever I find out, if you don't want me to tell you something, you'll know by omission."

Anya: "No." She shook her head, still watching him. "If you're going through with it, then I want to know everything you find out. And your ghost can eat whatever he wants."

Rune: "Thank you for trusting me."

Anya: "I've trusted you for this long; I'm not going to stop now." No thanks necessary.

Her smile was very small, but it was real. "Thank you. For finding out about her. It's probably better to know."

Rune: "I don't know. I have no idea how my father left this world. At least..." At least you love enough to care. But was that true to say? Yes, she loved her, but he couldn't pretend apathy for the man who raised him.

"It's the least I can do."

Anya: "It's a lot. It's so much. It's more than anybody else could give."

She wasn't particularly hungry anymore, but she forced herself to take a bite of her toast. She chewed carefully. Swallowed.

"Do you need to rest, for a little while?"

Rune: A nap was tempting, but, "Coffee." Still, he remembered how well his sleeping habits went over last time.

"What if we... lay on the couch together?"

Anya: Anya had made a promise the last time she'd seen him. Confessions of love aside, she wouldn't go back on her word. She'd say nothing about where or how he slept. And if he wanted coffee, he'd get coffee.

She nodded, standing from the table with what would likely be the final bite of her toast.

"I'd like that. I'll put on a pot, first."

[mistressgasolite]

Cardiodrama

One evening, returning from another important meeting, Serge feels a heavy and unpleasant sensation in his heart. Stopping for a moment to catch his breath, an unusual tall young man with red hair approaches him.

— Ah, another poor victim... — he says, examining Serge, and then addresses him, — Good evening. Do you need help getting home?

Serge glances at the man but says nothing, finding him strange. After waiting a minute, the man continues.

— You are not taking good care of your health, dear sir~, — he laughs, taking him by the hand. The streets, buildings, and houses seem to blur around them until the two find themselves near Serge's house.

— Who are you? — Serge angrily slaps the stranger's hand and reflexively jumps back, grabbing his bag to defend himself if necessary.

— Who am I? I am, of course, your poisoned heart, — the man smiles and bows, — and also a doctor, Cardia. I see you've been developing a thrombosis for some time now? What a delightful misfortune, rest a little. Should I take you to the nearest seat or can you manage on your own?~

Serge feels panic gripping him, but he tries to stay calm. The stranger, claiming to be his heart, gives him a strong, almost infernal sense of anxiety. He decides not to show his fear to the man and replies:

— I can handle it myself. Thank you for your concern.

Cardia laughs louder and steps back.

— Of course, of course, but I'll be around, dear.~ After all, I am always with you, — he leans closer, and his eyes glow red, like a devil's. — And every choice you make, every decision, brings you closer to me.

When the man leaves, Serge returns home. But the dreadful feeling does not leave him, nor does the heavy sensation in his heart. He tries to distract himself, get busy, and drink a little. And the shadow over him seems to thicken, faintly oppressing the poor man. Anxiety and stress bring horrible nightmares during dark nights, and the fatigue grows stronger.

The next day, Cardia visits his victim again, this time at work. He delays him, tempts him with an energy drink, then another, leading to headaches and discomfort. Serge, with his principles, doesn't argue, succumbing to the influence. A quick fatty lunch, taking the bus home for more rest time, and a glass of wine for relaxation in the evening.

Day by day, more and more, until the victim starts fainting from terrible pain and exhaustion. He doesn't realize how he became friends with his nightmare until his next warning.

Long thin fingers with long claws run across his pale face, and the red eyes become even brighter, almost fluorescent.

— Ah, how quickly you've started to please me.~ I hope you haven't forgotten why I'm with you? The sweet pain you've caused me by succumbing to dangerous temptations and exhausting yourself. Continue. Satisfy me until I take your heart into my collection.

A few days after this, Serge finally decides to see a doctor. Cardia does not stop him, knowing it is already too late. Serge's last days pass excruciatingly long, in pain and suffering. In a hospital, but not an ordinary one, in Cardia's hospital of death.

A little more time, and the scalpel cuts into the flesh, opening the rib cage, and the saw cuts through the ribs, allowing the demon to take the fruit of his temptations into his collection. A collection of hearts.

[transformers-platonic]

Could you write tfp Ultra Magnus dealing with being shrunk down to the Size of a Doll?

Thank you for this request. I was actually trying to think of something to write with Ultra Magnus, so this gave the prompt I needed.

Ultra Magnus heard a noise late at night while he was finishing reports. He stood up slowly from his desk and moved towards the noise. As he walked, he debated what the noise could have been. He briefly wondered if they were having another small party. Conforming the late hour suggested that this was not the case, however.

He entered the main room and saw that the groundbridge controls were malfunctioning. He took a step closer and suddenly, a bright light came from it. He hit the ground and the last thing he heard was the footsteps of his team running towards him.

When he woke up, he found himself on an extremely large berth is medbay. As he looked around in confusion, he saw Ratchet there, watching him in concern. He gasped when he saw that Ratchet was a lot larger than him.

“How are you feeling?” Ratchet asked, concern softened his optics.

“I feel fine;” Ultra Magnus said slowly, “Though it appears that I shrunk. How did this happened?”

Ratchet looked away guiltily. “When I was repairing the groundbridge, I made a critical mistake with the power source. When you were investigating the short circuit, the shock damaged your T-cog, causing you to shrink.”

“So how do we reverse this?” Ultra Magnus asked.

“I’m still working on that. I promise, I will find a way.” Ratchet said.

Ultra Magnus looked away. “Will this affect my health in the meantime?”

“No, fortunately, this is the extent of the damage.” Ratchet replied. “I really am sorry about this and rest assured, I will make sure nothing like this happens again.”

Ultra Magnus turned away from Ratchet. “What you did was reckless so you need to be more careful in the future. If there’s nothing further the matter, I would like to return to my room to rest.”

“Of course, do you need any help?” Ratchet asked.

“No, I’ll manage.” Ultra Magnus said and left.

Jack, Miko and Raf arrived at the base at their normal time.

“Where’s Ultra Magnus?” Raf asked as he looked around the base.

Optimus went to the three of them. “There was an incident with the groundbridge and he was shrunk. He appears to want to to be alone for the time being.”

“I get it, any change would be hard.” Jack said thoughtfully.

During the visit, Bulkhead was returning from getting some energon and he saw Ultra Magnus sitting by a low window.

“Sir, are you alright?” He asked.

“I’m fine.” Ultra Magnus said quickly.

Bulkhead hesitated before saying what was on his mind. “Are you worried to enter the main room due to your size difference? If you are, we’re all very good at watching where we walk with the humans running around all the time.”

“It’s not that, I’m fine.” Ultra Magnus said.

“Alright, but if you do want to join us, you’re more than welcome.” Bulkhead replied.

Ultra Magnus looked at Bulkhead with confusion in his face. “You don’t think less of me like this?”

“Of course not.” Bulkhead said quickly. “We respect you for how calm you can be in situations and how good you are at planning stuff.”

“This put the team at a disadvantage, I’m a liability in this position.” Ultra Magnus argued.

“You never did figure it out, the difference between a team and a family,” Bulkhead said, “We don’t decide if someone’s a liability or not, we work together and help each other with our flaws or times we are weakened.”

Ultra Magnus said nothing, but was clearly focused on Bulkhead.

Bulkhead took a deep breath and continued, “The team never gave up on me when I was infected by Tox-En, or when Bumblebee lost his T-cog. It’s not what we do here.”

Ultra Magnus lowered his gaze. “I believed they just pitied me for being in this state. I should be more patient with Ratchet, I lost my patience with him.”

“I get it.” Bulkhead said. “It’s hard. Look, I’m not going to tell you that you need to talk to the others, but you’d be welcomes just as you are, sir.”

Ultra Magnus watched as Bulkhead left.

A half hour later, he joined the others. Arcee and Jack were laughing about something. Miko and Bulkhead were playing music and Raf was showing Bumblebee something he learned in school. He noticed platforms were set up in case he joined them. A warm smile appeared on his face.

He saw Ratchet still working and made his way to him.

“I owe you an apology for being so harsh.” He said.

“No, you were right. It was a careless mistake.” Ratchet said.

“Someone once told me that family doesn’t analyze people as liabilities or assets; I assume the same is true for finding fault.” He said.

Ratchet smiled at him. “I suppose, but I will find a way to fix this.”

“Thank you.” Ultra Magnus said, “I will admit, I don’t really enjoy being this size.”

A few days later, they were at the base when Ratchet called Ultra Magnus into medbay.

“I found a way to reverse the process.” He said.

“That’s great news.” Ultra Magnus replied, smiling.

When Ultra Magnus woke up, he sat up slowly seeing the rest of his family waiting. He looked around and noticed he was the same size as he was before.

“Thank you.” He said to Ratchet. He then smiled at the others, “I want to thank all of you for not judging me while I was in that state.”

[theladyhibiscus]

Signas/Reader | Signas x Reader

(I only write SFW content!)

Beta-read by @rp-repliforce

Third-person narrative with female "Y/N" reader.

.+*🌸🌸🌸*+.+*🌸🌸🌸*+.+*🌸🌸🌸*+.+*🌸🌸🌸*+.+*🌸🌸🌸*+.+*🌸🌸🌸*+.

Sick

It was a busy day today. Even if it was a cold and rainy day, the work never ceased. The High Commander had been to his fifth and final meeting today and it ended with a spokesman of the Council. Of course; save the worst for last. If the Council wanted to shut down Hunter HQ out of spite, they would. Thankfully, international laws and other forms of global red tape prevented that. But, that did not mean that Signas would not face the Council’s wrath practically on a monthly basis. He swore they verbally abused him because they needed a reploid punching bag to unleash their anger on. This did not mean it was okay, though. He always calmly stood his ground, which made the spokesman angrier every time. He always believed his job would be a smidge easier if he would just keep his mouth shut. But, when it came down to his Hunters, he would always defend them, no matter what.

As he walked through the dim corridor to his office, he could not hardly wait to finally sit down and ponder what to do with the rest of the day. Even better, he would see his new office clerk at her desk directly outside his office–a new addition since the Council’s ruling for Hunter HQ to now employ humans in office positions. Signas enjoyed the company of the little human. Reliable and responsible, she always made his days easier and her kindness made his days bearable. If she weren’t in a temporary position under the Council and if he had the jurisdiction, he’d hire her right away.

As he finally made it to his destination, he saw the office clerk at her desk. He began to greet her again today but–wait–was she asleep? Her head was down and was propped up by her crossed arms on the desk. She is asleep! Unbelievable. She never behaved this way at her job! Even rookie Hunters didn’t goof off like this! He huffed and walked over to her desk, ready to chastise her. “Y/N!” No response. She was fast asleep. Unbelievable! “Y/N!!” He glared at her and went to shake her awake. As his hand hovered closer over her shoulder, he snatched his hand back as if he had been burned. His irritation was quickly replaced with concern. Her…temperature is high. He mused. Carefully, he placed his hand upon her shoulder and he scanned her temperature. Hmm…102.9 Fahrenheit…This isn’t good! “Y/N!!” He gently rocked her which caused her to stir. Dark rings formed under her glossy eyes.

“Oh no…I’m sorry, sir. I…” She started coughing and went to immediately cover her coughs in her arm. “...It’s just allergies…”

“No, Y/N.” Signas disagreed. “I believe you may have contracted an illness.” He felt her forehead and her face. “Your temperature is rising. I’m calling the hospital.”

“No…you…I need to help you…”

Signas deadpanned. He gently lifted her face to look at him. “Your health is more important. If you were to fall into an emergency–”

“I know, I know,” she interrupted. “The Council will get angry…”

“--I would not be able to forgive myself.” He countered. “The Council is the least of my worries. My priority is you.” She felt her temperature rise a bit higher. “Now, there is a bench over there. I want you to sign out of your computer and lie down. I’ll get you help.” She nodded and silently did as she was told. He helped her over to the bench where Reploids often wait their turn to meet the High Commander and helped her lie down. Once she was comfortable, he went to call a hospital.

***

Beeping. Beeping. Slowly, she woke up to bright lights and the sound of the beeping. Her right arm felt heavy and she groggily looked over to it and saw a needle inserted and taped onto the back of her hand. She tried to speak but the painful scratchiness in her voice caused her to cough.

“Ah, you’ve awakened!”

That voice. That low thunder was familiar. Commander Signas? She focused on where the voice came from and indeed saw that her assumption was correct. She slowly adjusted herself to sit upright and saw her superior sitting on a bench suitable for both Reploids and humans across the room facing her bed. Despite the bench being meant for dual use, the Commander looked too large for it. She caught herself smiling and tried to laugh but she started coughing. Before she realized it, the Commander was by her side with an opened bottle of cool spring water. “The nurse left this knowing you would be waking up soon. I’ve yet to learn her name but your temperature is regulating so I know she has taken great care of you.” Y/N gratefully took the bottle of water and took a sip. It burned her sore throat a little but, boy, was it refreshing. She cleared her throat gently and felt her voice returning.

“...Thank you, sir…for everything…”

Signas smiled. “No need to thank me. You are my responsibility.” His smile then reverted back to his usual frown. “Now then, I must ask you, how long have you been feeling ill?”

Y/N became sheepish. “Since…this morning?”

Signas’ expression intensified. “How early this morning?”

Y/N shrunk under his glare. Even though she wasn't feeling well, she didn’t mind being interrogated by her superior. Although it was intimidating, it gave her a little rush. Ugh, how could she feel this way being ill? It felt not only unnecessary, but this weird, tingly feeling of adrenaline could worsen her condition. “...When I first woke up?” Signas grunted disapprovingly and leaned down next to the bed, leveling his optics with her eyes. She smiled nervously.

“Then, why did you report to work?” He asked quietly.

“I didn’t want to miss a day.” She answered matter-of-factly.

“You could always call and say you aren’t feeling well, Y/N.”

“But, you need help! That’s what I’m hired for!”

“Your health is more important.”

“B-but…!”

“Did you realize how worried I was?” She stopped her incoming retort. “Your temperature was rising gradually. I had you rest on the guest’s bench near my office. When the EMS arrived, you fainted and they were unable to wake you. I had to come with you. I could not leave you alone in that condition. Thankfully, with the Sigma Virus being fully eradicated, it made it possible for me to stay with you.” She appeared to hesitate and began to ask a question but Signas raised his hand to stop her. He knew what her incoming question would be. “Do not worry; X is in charge until I return.” She relaxed and nodded. “Now, I want you to rest. For the future, please call and take the day off when you are feeling unwell. Do I make myself clear?”

“...I’m sorry.”

Signas became confused. “Hmm? Why are you apologizing?”

“I kinda ruined your whole day…” a small cough and a quick sip of water followed. “You’re right; I should have called about me not feeling well and things could be getting done as they should be and not you being here in the hospital and stuff…”

“Y/N, you are much too hard on yourself. This is why you are in the hospital. You put yourself in these situations believing you will disappoint others instead of taking care of yourself. I am certain you’ve done something like this before, am I correct?”

She looked down at her hands. “W-well, it never landed me in the hospital…”

Signas rose back to his feet. “Please take better care of yourself, Y/N.”

Y/N nodded as she still looked at her hands. She still felt that tingle in her chest but it wasn’t adrenaline this time. “I will. I promise.”

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

All For One & One For All

Gallery II Taglist Application II Symbol Guide

Summary: In trying to tear them apart, Captain Sobel just accidentally brought them closer. A/N: Just a lil friendship flashback blurb thing that came to me while I was working on Chapter 11 & I figured I'd put it out there lol bc platonic friendships are important!! Taglist: @latibvles @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs @wwhatev3r @mccall-muffin

6 Months Earlier: March 18th, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

“I’m gonna kill myself,” Don muttered, hauling what felt like the millionth pile of dirt over his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna kill him myself,” Alix replied out of the corner of her mouth, digging her shovel violently into the Earth with renewed vigor, as though spearing Sobel straight through the heart.

“Not if I do it first,” Skip mumbled back to her with a roll of his eyes. “Can you believe this is our fucking Saturday?"

“I don’t remember giving you three permission to speak!” Sobel bellowed from the outside of the ditch, pacing from one end to the other like a caged animal. 

“Sir,” Skip half-panted, in a tone of forced diplomacy. “We’ve been at this since dawn and it’s almost ten now. When can-”

“You will be digging these damn ditches until I tell you to stop, Sergeant Muck!” Sobel interrupted, nostrils flaring.

"Your times from yesterday morning's run were so pathetic that you should be grateful I didn't make you run beforehand!”

Well what did you fucking expect, Alix wanted to retort.

Don was sick as a dog, and both she and Skip were nursing hangovers on zero sleep, having spent most of Thursday night taking care of Malarkey after they returned from the pub.

What the hell did Sobel expect them to be after all that, Olympic fucking medalists?

Digging pointless ditches only to fill them back in was one of Sobel's favorite punishments and the three of them seemed to always be first on his shit-list: Alix for insubordination and her smart mouth, Skip for lateness, and Don seemingly just for existing. 

Don stopped digging to let out another hacking cough into his elbow and Sobel’s nose crinkled disdainfully.

Keeping his head tilted down, Skip still managed to exchange worried glances with Alix. 

Don's flu had only been getting worse under the constant training in the English rain, and his best friends both wondered silently how long Don could remain working before he collapsed.

Finally, the agent resolved to say something.

She couldn't let this asshole Sobel endanger her friend, even if it meant taking on more punishments herself.

“Sir, Mal can barely stand!" Alix protested, pausing from her work momentarily to wipe away the sweat trickling down her forehead.

She was trying her best to remain civil but it was a Herculean effort.

"Punish me and Skip all you'd like but Don is too fucking sick to be here. He needs rest and a doctor before he gets any worse!"

 

Sobel glared down at her for a moment and Alix could see the cogs turning in his mind before he spoke. 

"It's Martinelli, isn't it?" he asked finally, eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her. "Our Sparrow-in-Training." 

You have my file; you know damn well who I am, Alix wanted to snap, but she managed a "Yes sir" from between gritted teeth.

“Well Martinelli," he spat as though her name was a curse word.

"You don't give the orders around here. I do. And since you three had the worst times yesterday, you will be digging ditches until I tell you otherwise. Is that clear?" 

"Then let me dig Don's section," Alix pushed. "So he doesn't have to." 

"I can help!" Skip volunteered but Sobel ignored them, continuing on his tirade.

"Director Donovan and the OSS might see something special in you, Martinelli, but d’you want to know what I see?” 

Not particularly but I know you're going to tell me, Alix thought dryly but outwardly she held her tongue, glaring down at her shovel as she dug up another round of soil and threw it over her shoulder. 

He was deliberately trying to rankle her by ignoring her concerns about Don's health, framing it as though she were trying to give orders above her station. 

What a piece of shit. 

“I see a spoiled brat who thinks she’s too good to be here because Daddy paid her way into the OSS."

Alix set her jaw but Sobel was just getting started. 

"You may be Donovan's little princess back at HQ," he sneered. "But as long as you are positioned with Easy for your cover, you are under my command and I will not be allowing this type of insubordination to go unpunished. Get out of the ditch." 

Alix's brows knit. 

"Sir?" 

"Get. Out. Of. The. Ditch." he repeated, overenunciating his words as though she were a child. 

Once she'd climbed out, Sobel, who towered over her at 6 foot 1, regarded her as though she were an ant beneath his boots. 

"Count yourself fortunate that I can't kick you out, Martinelli," he all but snarled at her.

"Because I wouldn't hesitate. You're not cut out for the Airborne." 

"Good thing I didn't sign up for it then, sir." 

Shit. 

Alix's mouth moved faster than her brain sometimes. 

Most times, she thought ruefully. 

A snicker escaped Skip's mouth before he could stop it and Sobel's head whipped around, descending on him like a hawk.

"Do you think insubordination is funny, Sergeant?"

 "N-No sir," Skip choked out, trying to disguise his laughter as coughs. "Not funny at all, sir."  

Sobel was wearing a sanguine smirk, pacing in front of Skip and Alix's section of the ditch as though he were deciding what method of torture would be most appropriate for each of them.

The sadistic bastard was enjoying this. 

"Agent Martinelli," he announced, turning back to lock eyes with Alix. She could see a vein pulsing in his forehead but she kept her eyes focused, squinting in the morning sun. 

She would not be the first to blink.

"Since you seem to enjoy assuming a leadership role when it has not been assigned to you, you will be running the officers' course: 5 miles at full-speed and you will be timed. Your handler ran it in 35 minutes. Since you seem to think you rank even higher, let's see if you can run it in 25." 

Alix drew her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from yelling, biting down so hard that she tasted blood. 

He's insane, she thought to herself. He's officially fucking lost it. 

Another impossible task, and all because she had been a little tired during the morning run.

She could've screamed, especially when she saw the gloating look on Sobel's face.

"I may not be able to kick you out, Martinelli, but by the end of today, you will wish that I had."

"We'll see, sir."

"Muck, Malarkey" Sobel barked, turning his attention to her other friends. "Get out of the ditch." 

Skip exhaled sharply through his nose, as though he was releasing any hope of having a good day, but he too clambered out of the ditch before reaching down to help Don as well.

"Since I would hate to break up the Three fucking Musketeers--"

Sobel's voice was dripping with so much sarcasm that it left Alix seriously considered how much it would cost her to accidentally poison the man's coffee some fine morning.

"You two will be accompanying Agent Martinelli on the Officers' Course. But this is not a playdate, you three. You will be competing. The one with the slowest time will be filling in this unfinished ditch all by themself."

Alix cocked an eyebrow.

She knew the game he was playing. It was the same game that the headmistress played at St. Mary's: trying to pit friends against each other.

Sobel got a real kick out of being divisive and Alix suspected that whatever else was going on in his life, he wanted everyone else to suffer for it too.

Well, tough shit.

She might've actually felt sorry for him if he wasn't such a jackass.

But Sobel was the sort of man who would probably kick puppies for fun.

He was clearly banking on the fact that if they were busy fighting with each other, they'd be less effective against him so he was trying his damnedest to sow some discord between them.

But he didn't know Warren Muck, not like they did.

Skip was the glue that held everything together, the ever-patient mediator.

Don and Alix may have been quick to anger but never him.

Infinitely good-natured, the Skipper wasn't one to hold a grudge and he as well as anyone knew what Sobel's modus operandi was. It would take more than a stupid punishment from Sobel to make him truly angry at either her or Don.

"What are you waiting for?" Sobel shouted, seemingly morbidly overjoyed to watch them struggle through the course. "Get a move on! You're wasting daylight."

"Yes sir," Alix spit with as much venom as she had in her as the three headed off.

∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━∆∆━━━∆∆

"That man is the Devil in jump boots, I swear," Skip remarked from her right side at his usual bounding pace "I'd stake my life on it."

"You're not wrong, Skipper," Don wheezed through another loud cough, his speed starting to lag. "I'm pretty sure he's tryna kill me."

"Sure seems like it," Alix panted in reply, slowing down to match Don's pace. "Sorry I got you guys smoked too though. I would've rather it've just been me."

"No sweat," Skip chirped cheerfully, still practically skipping, true to his name. "Beats digging more stupid ditches!"

Don managed a small grin.

The bounce in Skip's step never seemed to fade, no matter how dark the day.

"And besides," Skip continued. "At least we're all getting smoked together, right? Builds character."

"Well by the time we're done in Aldbourne, we'll probably have the most fucking character of anyone in the damn whole company," Don joked.

"You're welcome," Alix snarked, the heavy footfalls of her boots sending clouds of dirt up like a small stampede.

"Guys, did he really call us the Three fucking Musketeers as an insult," Don laughed, which quickly turned into a sneeze.

"Or was that just a product of my flu-addled imagination?"

"No, it was real," Alix commented with a grin. "Not a bad book either, Les Trois Mousquetaires. I read it at St. Mary's."

"Hey, no kidding!" Skip's face lit up from beside her. "I read it in school too!"

"Weren't they also called--" Don broke off due to another coughing fit and Skip finished for him.

"The Three Inseparables, yep!"

"'We are never seen one without the others...Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, the Three Inseparables.'" Alix recited from memory.

"And D'Artagnan, the extra," Don added. "But he doesn't really count, does he?"

"I know Sobel meant it as an insult but is it terrible that I actually kinda like it?" Skip asked. "'S pretty fitting, I think."

Alix shook her head.

"It's definitely fitting," she piped up in agreement. "Plus, anything that Sobel hates is pretty much automatically my new favorite thing."

"Agreed," Don replied. "But now we need to figure out what're we gonna do about this stupid fucking competition. We'll be at the end soon."

Malarkey was right, Alix mused, trying to ignore the ever-increasing burning of her muscles as they ran.

They were nearing the end of the course and Sobel would soon be expecting two winners and a loser.

Since Malarkey was sick, most likely, Sobel was betting on him finishing last so that he could be forced to fill in the ditch, but neither Skip nor Alix were going to let that happen.

"Well, the answer's right there, isn't it?" Alix commented and both Skip and Don cocked their heads.

"Care to elaborate?" Skip asked at the same time Don managed to choke out "Share" in between a string of thunderous sneezes.

"'Tous pour un, un pour tous!'"

Skip shook his head.

"Sorry, no dice. Translation please?"

"'All for one and one for all,'" Alix answered brightly.

"We finish the race at the same time, together, that way Sobel can't make any one of us fill the ditch in alone. The work'll go much faster between the three of us!"

"'All for one and one for all,'" Skip repeated, a grin spreading across his face. "I love it. You in, Mal?"

"Of course I'm in!" Malarkey piped up. "Man, I can't wait to see the pissed off look on his face when he realizes we won't play his stupid fucking games!"

And Malarkey was right.

The sense of pure triumph and satisfaction that Alix felt watching Sobel's face turn red with fury as the three of them crossed the finish line arm-in-arm was enough to get her sore muscles through even the most strenuous parts of refilling the ditch afterwards.