#work took me out badly in the first quarter

[whitexdove]

"the weirdest thing about american culture is like... every twenty or so years, the government declassifies a file that says, 'you're right. we did it. what are going going to do about it?' fucking unreal."

[ceesimz]

Wilted

Autistic Reader x Barça Femení

Another (13k wc) one shot, read the main story here!

Statistically, in your sport, you were one of the lucky ones. You had made it to 27 without spending more than two weeks at once out with an injury. Nothing too extreme, or painful. Just knocks here and there, a few minor muscle injuries, and the likes. 

Unfortunately, in this line of work, a bad injury was inevitable. In just one movement, it felt like your Champion's League dream was over.

Should you have signalled that you needed to come off earlier, when you took your first knock just halfway through the second half, maybe the game wouldn’t have ended the way it had. Maybe if you weren’t so naively determined, you wouldn’t have ended up face down on the grass hours away from home in Munich, writhing in pain.

The first leg of the Champion’s League quarter-final was bound to be a tough game, especially playing away at such a dominant Bayern team. None of your teammates could have expected it to be so physical though, it was uncharacteristically abnormal for both teams. The tussle you had found yourself in when you had received a sharp, fast knee from side-on against your thigh really should have been the end of your game. But you weren’t one to give up, especially when the score was still 0-0, the tension had to come to an eventual end for one team at some point and you wanted to be there to make that happen. You ignored the dull ache in your muscle and continued playing.

You were too eager though, playing with too much pent-up frustration to just get a goal, that you were involving yourself in unnecessary battles and making unrealistic runs. One of those occasions had to go wrong at some point, and it absolutely did.

With a long ball thrown over the top of the Bayern defence by Patri, you managed to outpace Eriksson and were comfortably at least half a metre in front. The ball was yours, you’d shrugged off the defender that had been on your tail relentlessly for eighty minutes so far, and this could be the deciding play of the first leg. This was your moment.

You wanted to show you were giving it your all, wanted to show how badly you needed this UWCL trophy after years of failure with another team in a different German town. You wanted to prove that you could do it all, leave nothing on the pitch, and come out on top with the iconic gold medal to show for it after getting your team to the final.

Except, with the harsh cold rain battering down, the ball glided after its first bounce out of your reach, causing you to overstretch. After that, you clattered heavily against the wet grass as a searing pain ripped through your leg. The excruciating cry you let out could be heard throughout the stadium, a grimace on everyone’s faces as it didn’t take a professional to know that the injury was a bad one. One of your hands fell to the epicentre of the pain on the back of your thigh, the other hand grabbing a fistful of grass as you sobbed in agony.

The ball was out of play anyway, allowing the referee to appropriately halt the game as players from both your team and Bayern came over. There were hands on your back and words uttered your way, but the panic rising through your chest and the ringing in your ears paired with the pain still running rife through you were too much to comprehend at once. The world felt so big and overwhelming, all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and pray it all went away. The pain, the people around you, the fans watching with their eyes and their phones, the implications of what this injury meant. You couldn’t do this. 

“Hey, it’s me, it’s Ingrid, come back to me.” 

That voice broke through the brick wall of your thoughts, one gentle hand rubbing up and down your back as the other brushed a few damp wisps of hair out of your face. Vaguely, in the background, you registered an authoritative voice ushering everyone away before the brightness of the stadium floodlights dimmed behind your eyelids. Unbeknownst to you in that moment, your teammates had formed somewhat of a wall to save you from the view of the fans.

Another figure kneeled beside you, murmuring quietly with the person next to them before a soft, familiar hand took yours from the back of your leg and squeezed it comfortingly. It's quite clear to any player that you've got a hamstring injury, and the extent to which the discomfort you're feeling is concerning for everybody on the pitch. The hearts of the two people that love you most break for you.

“Cariño, we know you're in pain, but we need you to come back to us. We want to help.” It's Alexia speaking now; she's got your hand in hers and the touch brings you back down a little. “The physios will be here soon.”

You reply with a minute nod as that's all you can manage, your cries slowing not out of choice, but exhaustion. The adrenaline had kept you running all game, especially after the clash earlier, but now you had hit a wall, or the ground rather, and everything had come crashing down on top of you. 

Alexia and Ingrid notice your lack of noise and take it as a good sign, both of them shooting a glance at each other before the Norwegian takes the reins.

“Hey.” Ingrid said, her hand sliding from your back to your shoulder in an effort to roll you over, even just a little, so she could properly see your face. “What’s hurting? Something in your leg?”

You gave a pitiful nod, allowing the defender to lay you on your back, but you pulled the collar of your jersey over your eyes in a last attempt to hide away from it all. 

“Is it your hamstring?” Alexia asked, her free hand falling to your hip and stroking the skin available with her thumb where your shirt had been lifted. A final nod from you confirmed Alexia’s worst fears; you had most likely torn your hamstring. The severity of it would determine how long you could be out for, but it wasn’t looking good.

Before she could say anything else, she was surrounded by not only the Barça physios, but the medical team at the ground too, a stretcher placed down just in case behind her. She knew, realistically, you would end up having to use it, but she also knew the mental repercussions it would have for you.

There was a certain way you processed things, and it was obviously different to the majority of the world. In this moment, where you lay in agony on a football pitch, you knew you were injured. But you hadn’t accepted that fact yet, hadn’t processed it or allowed it to be the truth. You could still reject that fate for yourself - hide behind your shirt, try to ignore the medical staff all around you, the concerned looks on everyone’s face, and shut everything out. The second you were transferred to the stretcher, you would have no choice but to come to terms with what had happened to you. 

Alexia knew what you’re feeling now would pale in comparison to how you would certainly feel later that evening. In a hotel room in a different country from home, crutches by your bedside, a compression sleeve tight around your thigh, and ice atop that. Words of condolences fired your way, sorrow present in all the eyes that landed upon you, nevermind the throbbing pain that would persist. Constant reminders you couldn’t escape from would surely ruin you.

You still had time to reject it, pretend it wasn’t your reality. 

“It-it’s not that b-bad.” You tried to argue, abruptly sitting up and wiping your tears before prying people’s hands off of you. “Let me up.”

“No, you can’t get up. Let the doctors do their job first, you don’t want to make anything worse, okay?” Ingrid lightly pushes you to lay back down, only for you to shove her hands away.

“No! I’m fine, I can walk it off. Lea-”

“Cariño, listen to me.” Alexia shuffled up closer, softly holding your face in her hands so that you had no choice but to listen to her. “You are injured. You have torn your hamstring, and it is very dangerous for you to do anything on that leg now. You will make it worse. Listen to us, to the doctors, and let us help. We are all here for you and we are not going anywhere. Please.”

To some, Alexia’s words might come across as blunt and harsh, rather than caring with your best intentions in mind. But she did have your best intentions; the moment required some tough love, if she sugar-coated anything then it would only cause more damage in the long-run.

“It hurts, Ale.” You whimpered, clutching at her forearm as you cried into your other hand.

“I know, lay back and they will give you something for it.” You found comfort in her voice and touch, making you feel safe and secure enough to follow her words and allow the medics to do what they needed.

In the blink of an eye, it seems, you’re in the away team physio room. There’s a lot of hustle and bustle around you, but at the same time you’re alone. No one is holding your hand, no one is reeling off words of reassurance, there’s not a soul at your side. It’s just doctors wanting to get their job done for the day. You had no idea how much of the game was left, so you didn’t even know when you could get a reprieve. 

That horrible feeling of panic was rising through you like a tsunami wave. You felt trapped, claustrophobic, and to top it all off you couldn’t even see a light at the end of the tunnel, whose walls were quickly closing on you. 

Alexia had lied to you. She had said that her and Ingrid were there for you and weren't going anywhere. But nobody was here with you right now. You were alone.

Anytime one of the doctors tried to talk to you, their words weren’t registering. Anytime they tried to put their hands on you, you flinched, only causing you more mental and physical pain. None of them could bridge the gap to help you. And, considering they were doctors, not a single one could see the severity of your emotional distress. It only led to tensions rising as they got antsy and irritated, and you got more and more worked up.

Alone. Trapped. Hurting. Alone.

That mantra circled dangerously around your mind. Alone: nobody was here with you. Trapped: you physically couldn't walk, you didn't know the stadium, and you wouldn't know where to go if you did. Hurting: the doctors hadn't given you any pain relief, Alexia had lied once more. Alone.

Alone, trapped, hurting, a-

Alone only until some time later, the door slammed open, and this time someone in the room did have the right to be angry.

“What is going on in here? Why is no one helping her!?” Mapi cried out, rushing over to where you were borderline hyperventilating into your hands and everybody else stood, watching. “Preciosa, it’s Mapi, I…”

She didn’t know what to do with the state you were in, it wasn’t something she had ever come across before. How could she help you if qualified doctors couldn't? 

You seemed inconsolable and the panic running riot through you slowly began to seep into her, which wouldn’t help either of you. Mapi had no experience with anything of this severity, she'd seen Ingrid have panic attacks before but that was years ago, she hadn't had any in a long time. This didn't seem like a panic attack, and if it was a meltdown, she certainly had never dealt with one of those before. She'd only seen the aftermath of one, and it wasn't even her that had dealt with it.

It felt like all she could do was bide her time and hope that Alexia or Ingrid came in ASAP, but she knew she had to act sooner. By doing what, she wasn't sure. But she had to start somewhere.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Her eyes looked frantically around the room, noting that all the people that should be helping you were only staring with exasperated looks on their faces. “Hey, everyone out! Get out!”

They shook their heads as they left, filing out one by one and murmuring between themselves. Meanwhile, your state of mind hadn’t changed and Mapi’s concerns only grew. Cautiously, she tried to take your hands away from your face but somehow your strength was too much for her and they didn’t budge an inch. The worry Mapi felt grew tenfold and soon there was a tremor to her own hands. She felt like time was running out, as if you would implode the longer you spent in this detrimental state.

So, she decided on a different approach.

“Hey, sit up for me, preciosa. Come on, I need you to sit up.” 

To her relief, you followed her instructions easily this time, and she moved you to sit up and swing your legs carefully over the edge of the bed whilst being mindful of your injury. Once in position, Mapi clambered onto the bed and sat behind you, her arms coming up to wrap around your chest and hug you tightly. She had learnt once, from Ingrid, that pressure helped to ease anxiety, and if her assumptions were correct, that was the primary emotion screwing you up right now. 

“There you go, I’m here. Take some breaths now, in and out, it is just me and you.” She kept her embrace tight, baring her weight behind it and rubbing up and down your upper arms in a repetitive, reassuring motion. “We need to slow down, cariño, slow down that breathing. I’ll do it with you, hm?”

For the next minute or so, Mapi took exaggerated breaths behind you in an attempt to ground you, and it worked. At some point along the way, one of your hands had dropped from your face to Mapi’s on your left arm, covering it in a silent gesture of gratitude in a moment where you couldn’t verbalise it. It didn’t take long at all for you to come back to the room, but neither of you moved and instead opted to stay still. This was comforting, it was easy, and it was familiar. 

Even after five minutes had passed by, Mapi didn’t leave. Her next approach was to distract you from all that had happened, and luckily for her she was blessed with a skill that for the first time in her life actually came in handy. Mapi could talk forever, so that’s what she did. She spoke about what she’d gotten up to recently, the newest coffee shop that had opened near the training ground, and somehow she even started relaying memories from her childhood. She spoke about anything and everything, and it worked. 

Finally, you had removed both hands from your face and the tears had finally dried up. You were leaning back against Mapi, head resting on her shoulder as she showed off the many tattoos that were scattered across her hands and up her arms. Your physical pain had taken a backseat for all the mental torment you were going through earlier, but now it was returning in full force. You didn't feel able to talk just yet though, so failed to bring it up.

“You feeling okay now?” Mapi hummed quietly, you nodding somewhat uncertainly a few moments later. She gave a tight-lipped smile and kissed your cheek, tucking her chin over your shoulder and delving the pair of you into silence. There wasn't much else to be said or done.

Not so long after, commotion could be heard down the corridor outside the door and it didn't take a genius to figure out who it was.

“-should be in there, helping her!” The door swung open, revealing a confused Alexia. “Mapi, what's going on?”

“Come in and close the door. Leave them out there for now.” Mapi said calmly, squeezing your hand after sensing you tense up a little.

Alexia did as asked - she closed the door and came over to the pair of you. Her eyes roved all over you, noticing the way Mapi is holding you and how your eyes are red and puffy. She reached a hand out to land comfortingly on your uninjured knee, her thumb stroking the skin there in concern.

“What happened, cariño?” She wondered quietly, frowning at the slight shake of the head you give her.

“I think she had some kind of meltdown or panic attack thing. None of the physios or doctors were helping, they were just stood watching and making her feel worse. I kicked them out and calmed her down, we're okay now.” Mapi explained simply, looking at you as you kept your eyes averted from the woman in front of you and instead fidgeted with your hands.

Alexia blew out sharply, cursing in Catalan under her breath. Mapi can sense she's about to go off on an outraged tangent, so the defender stops her with just a look. The captain deflated immediately, shaking herself out of her frustration and taking a calming deep breath before focusing back on you.

“I'm sorry. I tried to come off with you but they wouldn't let me. I am so sorry.” Alexia said softly, raising a hand to wipe away the lingering tear tracks on your cheek.

“You weren’t here when I needed you.” You mumbled, a deep-set frown on your face that filled Alexia with guilt.

The pair of them share a glance over your shoulder. The captain looks hurt, really hurt, and Mapi can’t quite blame her for that. They understood your discontent, but they didn’t know how deep it ran. They thought it was possibly somewhat misplaced, and your judgement was just a little clouded by the day’s events.

Except, it wasn't.

When you trust someone, and you hand your heart over to them, what may seem to be the slightest mistreatment can lead to the biggest blowouts.

After years and years of discrimination, prejudice, and hatred all directed at your whole being, it's hard to trust people. Hell, only eight months ago did you tell your colleagues about your true self after being a footballer for what, thirteen years? Other people's foul behaviour in the past was not your fault, yet it's only you left facing the repercussions. And the current situation was a perfect example of exactly what that meant for you.

“Cariño, I…” Alexia started, but she quickly trailed off. She didn’t know what to say, where to go from here. She hadn’t really found herself in this scenario before, she was always the first person you came to for comfort, and not only had you had found it from someone else, you were annoyed with her too.

Her hands pulled away from you like she'd been burnt, a notion not lost on you or Mapi.

“Ale really did try, I promise. Jona wouldn't let her sub off.” Mapi tried to tell you, but you stayed silent. She tried to suppress her sigh behind you, but you heard it. Loud and clear.

“You can leave if you want to, Mapi. Thank you for helping me, I really appreciate it.”

You didn't mean for it to sound so apathetic and ungrateful. But that's how it came out. You couldn't change it now.

Mapi instantly pulled away with nothing but a nod, squeezing your hand before getting up and leaving. She gave Alexia an uncertain glance as she walked past her, the taller woman just nodding at her before the defender left. 

It meant the pair of you were left alone now. There was a hushed voice from behind the door, no doubt Mapi lecturing the doctors. That wasn't at the forefront of your mind now, in fact there wasn't really anything you could focus on apart from the way you were acting. You'd treated two of the people dearest to you in an unkind way, yet you couldn't stop.

“I don't get why you weren't here. I don't get how Mapi was the first one to come to me.” You stated, eyebrows raised up in an attempt to act unphased by everything that had gone on. The tremble to your hands and the quiver to your lower lip told Alexia exactly how you were feeling.

“I tried. I really did.” Still, she didn't know what to say. 

“Not hard enough, Alexia.” You looked up at her in what you thought was a disappointed glare, but really it looked forced with layers upon layers of hurt behind it. The use of Alexia’s full name too shouldn't have hurt her as much as it did. “You're the captain. You can bend the rules and get away with it. I mean, if it was the other way around, I'd be there for you in a heartbeat no matter the consequences. So why wasn't it the same for me? I really needed you.”

Despite your best attempts, you couldn't fend off the frown or the tears that forced themselves upon you. Regardless of how you'd acted towards her, Alexia instantly forgave you for it all. She knew, in this second, you were overwhelmed and assigning your anger onto everything in the world because of what it had done to you today. She'd take all the blame if it gave you a release. 

“I didn't want to let anyone down.” Alexia whispered, holding back her own emotions.

“Well, you let me down. In the end.” 

The words just kept tumbling out of you uncontrollably. Of course you knew it wasn't Alexia's fault, she most likely would have been sanctioned after all, but that didn't stop the dam from breaking and unleashing waves of frustration onto everyone. All Alexia could do was nod and take it, and hope that once you had returned to your normal mindset, this would just be water under the bridge. And it would, you already knew you were being quite irrational, but you were too far gone to stop now.

Hastily, the midfielder blinked back the tears in her eyes and reached a hand out to put on your shoulder. That one gesture was what cracked your demeanour; you leaned forward then, resting your forehead against Alexia's stomach and, for the second time that day, letting the tears flow freely from your eyes. Her arms immediately wrapped around your back as she ducked down slightly to place a kiss on your head. She squeezed her own eyes shut, trying once more to keep her cries at bay so she could help you through your own emotions.

Only the sounds of your sniffling could be heard in the otherwise silent room, your tears dampening Alexia’s jersey as she doesn’t move a muscle so she can uphold your peace. Every so often she’ll run her hand up and down your back as a sign that she’s still with you in the moment, even if her words didn’t convey as such. She waits patiently for you to feel able again, knowing that your mental health is so much more important right now than whatever was going on with your leg. In the back of her mind she could guess the physical pain was still high, and the fact that you hadn’t mentioned it once since she walked in was enough cause for concern in itself.

“I want to go home.” You muttered tiredly some minutes later, leaning back to wipe your face with the inside of your shirt.

“I know. The doctors need to check you out first though, and I’ll be right here beside you. I won’t let them do anything you don’t want them to do.” She reassured you.

“But what can they do? Nothing right now. We already know it’s a torn hamstring, so let me get back to the hotel. I know it needs, what, ice and compression? We can sort that easily. I’m tired. And I don’t feel comfortable here. Please, Ale, I need to get out.” You pleaded, looking up at her with bloodshot, teary eyes that near enough split her heart in two. 

She pursed her lips and nodded reluctantly, kissing your temple this time before whispering, “Let me see what I can do.”

—

Turns out, there wasn’t much she could do. The Barcelona staff wouldn’t let you leave without being looked over, so after a minor disagreement and some amendments being made to the staff who would do so, you finally gave in and let them do their job. Just as you expected though, they really didn’t do much but confirm your thoughts. Ice, compression, and rest, before getting scans for it done when you landed back in Spain. 

They were hopeful that it wasn't a full tear and it wouldn't require surgery, but you weren't going to give that hope a home in your heart. Your expectations were the lowest of low, it was the only way to prevent yourself from getting hurt more. After all, it is the hope that kills you.

And now, as you lay on your hotel bed, completely and thoroughly exhausted by everything, you feel helpless. Alexia is going around the room and tidying, her attempt at gaining back control of just something because she feels helpless too, and you're just there watching her. Sleep keeps trying to take over you, but you refuse to let it happen, instead focusing on anything that doesn't involve succumbing to your exhaustion. Because, really, you just want your Ale. But she can't keep still.

“Amor, I can see your eyes drooping, please try to get some sleep.” She comes around to your side of the bed and leans down to kiss your cheek, looking at you both pointedly yet softly.

“Don't want to.” You shook your head, hearing her sigh. “Only if you come to bed.” 

You're itching to comfort her - you were well aware of the emotional discourse you had caused earlier and were desperate to make up for it. 

“You promise? You really need some rest.” You nodded, suppressing a yawn, and saw her smile before giving in.

She had already helped you through a somewhat disjointed night routine before setting you up in bed. There weren't really any comfortable ways for you to sleep tonight apart from on your back, which really wasn't too comfy at all. The compression sleeve was uncomfortably tight and the painkillers you'd taken hadn't really done a thing, nor had the ice earlier. 

So, after quickly getting changed, Alexia slid under the covers and flicked the lights off with the switch by the bed, before moving onto her side and shuffling closer to you. From then on, the room was still and serene. It was the kind of quiet that was audible, it had weight to it that meant it could be felt in the way it settled in the bones of everyone experiencing it, and perhaps that was the catalyst for you. It wasn’t empty, no. Instead, the muffled hum of the world outside the window collided with the combined breaths of you both to make it feel a little too alive. 

To you, the silence was stifling and alarming. For Alexia, she was none the wiser to the sensory torment that was making you feel inexplicably worse. Every essence of the day - your injury, the aftermath, the future, the silence, your guilt - was hammering down on you now. Just like earlier, there was no escape. No reprieve. This was your present, though it didn’t quite feel like a gift, and there was no stopping it. 

There was enough of a gap between you and Alexia to allow the emotions to build. You could feel the warmth from her, but you felt separated by all the words that had gone unsaid by you. They lingered, taunting and menacing, as if you didn’t have enough on your plate already. 

But you didn’t give your girlfriend the credit she deserved. 

When your breaths became slightly stuttered, and your eyes clamped shut a hair too tightly, Alexia sensed it all.

“Cariño?” She whispered, gently cradling your cheek and turning your head towards her. “What's wrong?”

You tried to talk, you really did, but all that came out was yet more stuttered breaths and tears from your aching eyes. Withholding a saddened sigh, Alexia leaned forward to rest her forehead against yours. Her hand on your cheek wiped away any tears that fell and rubbed soothing circles on the wet skin. 

“I'm s-sorry, Ale. I r-really a-am.” You raised a hand to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle the cries on their way out, but Alexia only shook her head and carefully pulled it away.

“No, cariño, don't apologise. You don't need to say sorry for anything.” Her lips pressed kisses against your nose, cheeks, chin, the corner of your mouth and your temple. She didn't need you to apologise, all she needed was for you to know she would love you no matter the circumstances.

“But I was so, so horrible a-” 

“Shh.” She cut you off gently, leaning your foreheads back together to calm you. Throughout all of this, she still managed to maintain the quietness of the room, somehow making it peaceful and serene like it should have been the first time around. “I understand. You do not need to be sorry, I know how you were feeling earlier and neither me nor Mapi are upset about what you were saying. Just shh, relax.”

You nodded and took in a deep, shuddery breath, clutching her forearm and doing your best to do as she said. Both of you let a few minutes pass by, giving you all the time in the world necessary to calm down, the close proximity and her comforting touch helping you to reach a stable state of mind.

“I just wanted you to know.” You told her in an insecure voice some time later. She smiled and tilted her head up to kiss your forehead once more, holding herself there for a couple seconds to emphasise her adoration. Then she went back to her previous position and looked into your eyes with care and love in her own.

“I do know, I promise.” She stated with such conviction that it didn't leave you with much else choice apart from trusting her wholeheartedly. “I wasn't nice to people around me when I first did my ACL. Mapi was there to see it all, I had to do a lot of grovelling afterwards. When I could move about properly again, she made me clean her whole apartment.” 

At that, you let out a wet laugh, only to suppress another yawn afterwards. Alexia smiled even more, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You won't make me do that, will you?” It was her turn to laugh now and the sound of it brings a genuine smile to your face. 

“Never.” She hummed. “I know how it feels to get a bad injury and I will never blame you for being upset. I will be here for you every step of the way until you're back on the pitch again, we all will. You're allowed to feel angry, sad, frustrated with the world, or however else you're feeling. It is unfair, but we will get you back.”

“You're sure?” You mumbled a few moments later. With her eyes gazing into yours and her thumb stroking your cheekbone lightly, she nodded. Then, to confirm her affirmation, she leaned forwards that bit more to softly leave a kiss to your lips.

“I am certain.” She murmured when she pulled back, lips brushing against yours. “We will get you there. The team will take us to the final, and you will be walking out onto the grass in Lisbon with not only the club, but the fans behind you too. I swear it.”

Her words were all the motivation you needed. 

They echoed around your mind as you tried to sleep that night, and throughout the whole of the next day. It was tough to cope with, this (albeit temporary) new normal, and you loathed the sympathetic looks on everybody’s faces as they watched you slowly hobble from place to place on crutches. The flight home was a whole other story; for the life of you, you couldn’t get comfy, and in the end you had to sit sideways in your seat to give you the space to rest your leg across the empty middle seat whilst your feet ended up in Alexia’s lap. 

Alexia tried to keep her face composed, knowing the effect everyone else was having on you, but it tore her apart to see the down-trodden frown on your lips and the constant furrow to your brow that conveyed exactly how you were feeling. For the duration of the flight, her eyes hardly left you, constantly checking to see how you were doing without trying to be too overbearing. This wasn’t even the trickiest part of the day, yet it was already proving to be a tough mental challenge.

However, there was one silver lining that came to light. Possibly, it was the best outcome of them all. It wasn’t even Alexia’s injury, but she felt like crying upon hearing the news. Even when she walked you into your apartment later in the evening, there was still an overjoyed smile on her face as the sentence played over and over in her head.

“It’s only a grade two tear, meaning the rehabilitation process will be easier, especially considering you don’t need surgery.” 

On the other hand, you weren’t so positive. No matter the result of the scan, you still had to deal with weeks off from the one constant thing that never failed you. Except, it had failed you this time, to the highest degree so far. It didn’t matter that your comeback might be sooner than you initially thought, time off was still time off. From now on, there would be physio sessions, lonely days in the gym, matches missed, and even with the hard work you would put in, you might still miss the possible Champion’s League final, should your team get there. There was no doubt in your mind that they would get there. To miss a game like that at the peak of your career would irrevocably ruin you in any and all aspects.

Yet, again, Alexia of all people understood this. And the moment that you fully broke down, was the time she understood you the most.

“What if I don’t come back? What if I don’t play the same as I did? There’s no guarantee for anything, Alexia, and I just-”

The anxieties poured out thick and fast, but the captain was there to catch all of them and secure each one in the back of her mind, for when you were ready to tackle each one. She was seated behind you on the sofa, the sky a midnight blue out the window and the only light in your home being the warm white of the lamp in the corner of the room. Her arms were tight around your torso, her chin hooked over your shoulder with her cheek pressing against yours. Each time another sob ripped through you, her hand would be there in an instant to swipe away each individual teardrop and the quiet reassurances in your ear never seemed to end. 

Your emotions subsided eventually, but the strength and security of the blonde behind you never faltered. With your head resting back on her shoulder and your sniffles sounding through the room periodically, she was running through every problem and solution that could come about in the upcoming weeks. Not a single possibility scared her away. She would get you through rehab and to Lisbon if it killed her.

Doubting you and your will-power was something Alexia would never do. In reality, she thought most people underestimated you. There wasn’t a single worry in her mind that you would work harder than anyone to be back for that one match you had dreamed of all your career. And if the team didn’t get there, well… for Alexia, she had never had a bigger motivation than the one in her arms right now.

And when she thought you had exhausted yourself once your sniffles had stopped and your breathing was even again, she voiced all that was on her mind. Just like the night before, her words were everything you could ever need. It was hard to be discouraged about getting your life back on track when such a prominent figure, who had been in a worse situation than you in terms of injuries, was so certain that you were going to get through this blip.

“We will get you back, I’ll make sure of it.” She began in the quietest whisper she could manage, though when her mouth was right beside your ear it wasn’t hard to hear her. “I will not leave your side, min engel, not for one moment. You are the strongest person I know, I’ve told you that before, but it’s true. I thought I knew what it meant to be strong, but you show me a new meaning of it every day I’m with you. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, but how could I not?” She smiled to herself, flashes of all her favourite memories from the past eight months passing through her mind. “You give me everything I ever dreamed of. Being your girlfriend is the greatest honour of my entire life. Jeg elsker deg, cariño. Siempre.” 

You heard it all. You couldn’t ignore her.

“Since when did you know bits of Norwegian?” You asked her. She stiffened under you, feeling like she had been caught red handed. With a giggle, you sat up and turned the upper half of your body to face her, careful not to jolt your leg. When you looked at her, there was a pink tinge to her cheeks and a small, sheepish smile tugging at her lips. All it took was one teasing grin from you for her to groan and throw her head back against the sofa cushions in embarrassment. 

“I thought you were asleep.” She mumbled from behind her hands that had covered her face, only for you to laugh at her more. “Stoooop.”

Pushing through the pain, you gently flipped to lie on your stomach and, once comfortable, rested your chin on her chest. You gazed up at her almost in awe; it hit you, sometimes, that her love for you ran so much deeper than you’d ever realise. It ran through her veins, it had seeped deep into her bones, and filled her from head to toe. What she showed you on a daily basis was so much more than you could have dreamed of, but if you asked Alexia, she’d say it was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Why did you want to say it when I was sleeping?” You wondered quietly. She took her hands away from her face and looked down at you, her arms moving to rest atop your back.

“I just thought the moment was right.” She shrugged, her sheepish smile from earlier replaced by a soft one.

“You meant all of it?” You asked in a barely intelligible voice. 

“All of it. All of it and more, cariño.” The blonde replied with zero hesitation. “These upcoming weeks, we will just take it step by step, okay?”

“I know. It just worries me.” You sighed, dropping your forehead to her chest. “So much to do. So much I don’t know. I might get re-injured straight after. I don’t want to do it.”

“I understand.” Alexia murmured, ducking her chin down awkwardly to kiss the top of your head. “It will be worth it though. When you come back, you will fall in love with football all over again. You will find joy in the basic things, like just running or doing kick-ups. It changes your perspective on a lot of things. Sometimes these things come our way, no matter how much we don’t want them to, and they change us for the better. You will see.”

—

With this injury, you literally did have to take things step by step. The next day was a recovery day for the rest of the team, and you had to tag along so that you could meet with Jona and the staff about creating a provisional rehab plan for you. Week one was just rest. Nothing else. You were ordered to sit at home all day, waiting for Alexia to come home like a sad puppy. Honestly, that was probably the hardest part to get through.

You were an active person, not a day went by without you doing some kind of exercise or physical activity. Being stuck on the sofa or in bed twenty-four hours of the day was not appealing at all. Rather embarrassingly, when Alexia left for the first day of proper training since the Bayern game, you had watched her leave with tears in your eyes. She would only be gone for a few hours, but knowing your team was working hard for the second leg at the weekend was killing you. 

What you didn’t know though, was that Alexia had already planned the week out for you. 

Ten minutes after she had left on day one, Alba showed up with bags upon bags of stuff. Snacks, face masks, gifts, flowers, your favourite candle, the right equipment for her to give you a manicure, and more. It was hard for your thoughts to be clouded by negativity when the brunette was there to meet each millisecond of a frown with something to take your mind off of it. Whether that was with words or a hug or something else, by the time Alexia got home, you’d had a pretty good day. Upon stepping into your apartment, she dropped her kit bag and slipped off her shoes before joining two of her favourite people on the sofa to watch whatever movie was playing on the TV. Alba tried to push her away to shower, but the blonde just grinned before scooching closer to her sister and wrapping her arm tightly around her. The scene on display before you then was much more interesting than the film, the two bickering for what seemed like forever until Alba eventually had to leave.

On day two, Alba came to visit again, this time bringing her little dog and one of Eli’s home cooked meals for lunch. The day played out much the same as the one before it, but it was still just what you needed to get through this first rough week of recovery. When Alexia got home, her cheeks ached with the smile that grew after spotting you asleep on the sofa with the chihuahua in your arms. Alba rolled her eyes at the lovesick gaze her sister gave, only for Alexia to flick her forehead before carefully laying beside you and wrapping herself around your sleeping body. It took a matter of minutes for her to drift off, and she was less than pleased when she woke up to a plethora of… inappropriate drawings on her face whilst you were left untouched.

The rest of the week went pretty much the same way, until you’d finally gotten through it and, before you knew it, you were seated in the Johan watching the second round of the match-up that had taken you out in the first place. Fortunately for you, the team seemed hungry, and you were treated to a great game of the sport you loved. Even if you were a player for one of the clubs watching, it was thrilling to see both teams fight it out like they did. But ultimately, there was no stopping your blaugrana teammates that day. And Alexia, she seemed reinvigorated. In all the time you had been in Barcelona so far, the Bayern game was the best you’d seen her play so far. She was on another level, and as you clambered your way down to the locker room with your crutches to greet them all, you were swelling with pride.

You’re understandably a little slow when half your body weight relies on two metal sticks, so by the time you’re heading into the locker room, most of the team are already in there after making the rounds with the fans. The music is playing already, each of them buzzing after successfully making it one step closer to the final, but their faces light up even more at the sight of you. They hadn’t seen you in the week that you had been posted up in your flat, so they couldn’t help but cheer as you hobbled in.

“Ahí está!”

Jana smiled brightly at you, instantly walking over to hug you tightly. Others soon followed, and before you knew it, you found yourself at the centre of a group hug that was difficult to partake in when your arms were still hooked into your crutches. You laughed unabashedly at them all and their dramatics, greeting them one by one when they finally broke away. There were still some missing from the room, specifically the one person you were looking for, but you happily chatted along with them and joined in with their celebrations whilst you waited. 

“Back to work next week, sí?” Aitana grinned as you sat down in Alexia’s cubby, nodding up at her with a smile. “We have missed you in training, really!”

“She’s right, Mapi has been getting too big for her boots this week. You need to come back and start humiliating her in practice again.” Keira rolled her eyes with a huff, Aitana laughing beside her. 

“Tell her she should count her days.” You smirked, watching as that very woman strolled into the room with Alexia and Ingrid behind her. 

The three of them came over to you straight away, all with beaming smiles on their faces. Alexia sat down beside you and quickly pecked your cheek, managing to do so without catching the attention of the team members that would mock her. Everyone knew about your relationship, but Alexia didn’t feel like showing her utterly soft side as she would get teased for eternity.

“You guys played really well today.” You told the three of them, Alexia smiling to herself as she untied her laces.

“Almost like it is our job, preciosa.” Mapi poked your shoulder, only to receive an elbow to her side from Ingrid.

“Take the compliment, María.” She said, sending the pair of them off into a playful argument. 

It left you and Alexia somewhat alone, despite being in a room of at least twenty people, but some peace nevertheless. For a minute or two, you observed her silently, watching on as she took a moment of respite for herself after the game. Then, she turned to you, a content smile on her face.

“You okay?” She murmured, putting her hand over yours that rested against the bench.

“Mhm. What about you, player of the match?” 

Alexia rolled her eyes at your affectionate teasing, chuckling quietly. You grinned and bumped your shoulder into hers, resting your head there afterwards.

“Did you enjoy the game?”

“Yes, I loved it. You played so well. Honestly, your best game this season.” You told her, and the blonde woman's smile only grew. She'd been told countless times over her career how good she was, but there was something about you telling her that was just that more meaningful.

“Sí, and you know why?” Mapi butted into the conversation, looking pointedly at Alexia.

“Mapi, no-”

“Ale made the whole pre-game speech about you.” 

You heard a scoff from the woman in question as you sat back up and glanced at her. She had turned her head away slightly, cheeks bright red as Mapi laughed giddily at her reaction.

“Really?” You smiled sheepishly. Mapi decided to run off to the showers at that moment, leaving her friend to explain that one.

“Maybe.” Alexia grumbled, only for her grumpy facade to crack the second she turned back to look at you. “I did. I told the team from now on, in the Champion's League, we play for you. It wasn't about just you. It was about… other things too. But also you.”

“You are so cute, Ale.” You hummed, hearing her groan quietly and shake her head.

“I need to get a restraining order from that diablo.” She huffed. Then, she softened, turned back to you, and whispered, “I did play for you though today. Just for you.”

—

The second leg of the quarter final was luckily on a Saturday, meaning Alexia was freely yours for the Sunday afterwards that had been made a rest day. Thanks to the good amount of rest you (reluctantly) gave your leg, a week onwards it was feeling better than you expected. Alexia still demanded that you used the crutches and she didn’t leave much room for argument, but what you did fight for was the opportunity to actually leave the four walls of your flat properly. Not just for a game, but for actual human social interaction. She agreed, not without a seemingly endless list of do’s and don’ts, but nevertheless she agreed.

It ended up being exactly what you needed. You got back home early afternoon feeling rejuvenated and ready for the first week of rehab that was waiting for you in the Barça gym. Sure, it might have just been a breakfast date at that same spot with the same person as that day all those months ago, and just a sluggish walk around some of your favourite local areas, but it was perfect. 

Despite the ache in your arms and the slight heightened pain in your leg, you lay on the sofa back at your flat with a warmth in your heart, for the first time that week. Alexia found it rather amusing when she walked back into the lounge area to find you smiling to yourself with your eyes shut. Your sofa was pretty small, so when you lay down arm to arm it didn’t leave much space for anyone else. As she didn’t want to disgruntle you, Alexia decided it was best to sit on the floor in front of you instead. She put on the first football game she could find on the TV and watched it whilst picking from the bowl of fruit she had brought in. However, as you dozed off behind her, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing back every so often. Why wouldn’t she take all the time she could to gaze at the person she adored most? It was an easy conclusion for her to come to.

She looked at you with the same eyes as you walked in front of her into the locker room the next day. Even as you both went separate ways after changing, she didn’t dare look away from you until you finally turned the corner, despite it making her a tad late onto the pitch. The dreamy look in her eyes faltered a little, making space for concern, when she met you at the end of the training day and there was a frown on your face. 

“Still have to use this one stupid crutch.” You grumbled when you saw her questioning look as you approached her in the corridor. “And I hardly did anything today apart from listen and stretch and get poked and prodded.”

After only two sentences from yourself, the heart shape returned to her pupils as she nodded in sympathy and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“It’s only day one, engel. It will get better, I promise.” She whispered into your hairline, before leaving a kiss there. “Let’s go home and relax. My flat or yours?”

As it turned out, injury rehab was quite difficult. And slow, painfully slow. That first day was barely a drop in the ocean. Perhaps it was Alexia who was the naive one out of the two of you about this whole journey, but nobody could fault her, she just wanted the best for you. Once she took off her rose-tinted glasses, she could see that this was going to be so much more difficult than she initially thought.

The routine difference was hard for you to adjust to, and not only that, but the schedule you were given was susceptible to change at any moment. One second of work could alter every part of the month’s timetable. It was that structural rigidness that had you on edge at all seconds. 

Your temper was inexplicably short, you were snappy and blunt almost all the time, and it was as if one minor thing could trigger a meltdown if it caught you at the wrong moment. You wanted to work hard, yes, but with so much unknown, it was difficult to keep your concentration on the one goal you had. Everything else was getting in the way - your emotions, fears, anxiety, frustration - there were too many distractions. 

And whilst the mask came down around the majority of your teammates, it was Ingrid and Alexia that received the brunt of your uneasiness. Every time you thought things were getting better and you started actually feeling optimistic, something would come along and cruelly knock your confidence right back down.

As the days rolled on, you became more and more exhausted with it all. And that was not what you needed during rehab. 

Keeping up a facade that wasn’t true, forcing a smile that wasn’t there, and feigning determination that was dissipating by the day was so mentally damning. You nearly made it to the end of the week unharmed. Nearly.

“Snuppa, are you awake?” A voice called from outside your bedroom, followed by the third knock so far.

It was the first morning that you were waking up alone since your injury nearly two weeks ago. Apparently, your drained and morose mind was taking full advantage of that.

“Okay, I’m going to come in now, alright?” Ingrid gave it another ten seconds before she opened the door after getting no response. What she walked in on wasn’t so unfamiliar.

You hadn’t gotten out of bed yet. Getting up and facing the day ahead just wasn’t something you wanted to do. Thankfully, this wasn’t the result of a meltdown, but rather months worth of exhaustion built up to burn you out completely. 

“Hey.” Ingrid said quietly, coming to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s wrong?”

There were a million things you wanted to come out and say, but that wasn’t going to happen right now. Ingrid understood that.

“Do you think you’ll make it out of bed today?” You could answer non-verbally, with simple nods or a shake of your head, and here you just shrugged a shoulder. “Okay. I hear today is supposed to be a good day though, the physios think you can ditch the crutches altogether now.”

Oh. You’d forgotten about that. 

“You know, it doesn’t matter what time you go in. If you’re up to it, you can go in whenever you want, I will sort it with the staff. But if not, that’s okay too. It’s good to have a break every so often.” 

Maybe a compromise could work? Getting rid of the crutch would be a great step in the right direction. But a break also sounds good too. 

“Whatever works best for you, snuppa, we can do.”

It was planned for Ingrid to meet you that morning and take you in anyway, but to be honest you hadn’t expected to do anything but stay in bed, under the guise of darkness and a blanket for the day. A way to protect yourself from the world and all it could do. However, her proposal did sound easier to manage than what was originally planned for the day.

“If it’s too much for you at any time, either me or Alexia will be there to take you home.” She smiled sympathetically down at you, her hand coming up to hold yours that rested on top of the covers. “We just need to work out what’s best for you today.”

That was easier said than done. You did make it out of bed a little while after that, but only to eat breakfast and feel a little more human. At some point, Ingrid had messaged the staff to let them know that neither one of you would be in on time, and that it was currently a work in progress to get in at all. She also sent a text to Alexia too, who had a full morning of meetings before training, but she still somehow managed to blow up Ingrid’s phone a second later. 

Thankfully, you did manage to make it in. It was a challenge, of course it was, but you made it and that was a win in itself. And then the wins kept coming.

You were cleared to walk, cleared to start doing proper exercises and workouts in the gym unlike the boring borderline yoga you'd been doing all week, and the best of all, you were another step closer to being back on a football pitch. That was enough to restore the smile on your face. 

Though, you were still quite burnt out, that couldn't go away with just a bit of good news, so Ingrid had helped you make a plan with the physios over the weekend. The team was due to play on Saturday afternoon, with a day off again for the Sunday after it. Due to it nearing the end of the season where the schedule got more and more packed with high tension games, there were more rest days given to ensure all players were kept healthy, physically and mentally. For you, that meant you could take the whole weekend off without needing to go in for rehab - instead, the staff had given you strengthening exercises to do at home in the hopes that you would be able to somewhat relax and recover before Monday. That was more than okay for you.

Something had caused training to run a bit later that day, so despite your mishap in the morning, you were finished before practice was. So, with your newly restored ability to walk again, you carefully made your way from physio to the pitch. This was the longest you had gone in two weeks without seeing Alexia, and no matter how silly it seemed, you had missed her. 

It didn't take long for the blonde to spot you once you had reached the sidelines, sat on a cooler box watching them all, and her whole aura brightened immediately, as if seeing you with a smile was a weight off her shoulders. All day, she had been silently worried for you, guilty and devastated that she wasn't there in the morning. But now all that was gone, and her lovesick gaze had returned. 

Ten minutes passed before the end was called and the second it did, Alexia was jogging over. She wiped her face with the bottom of her jersey as it was a hot April day, then looked at you with a proud smile.

“Hi, amor.” She beamed, her eyebrows flying up in pleasant surprise at how easy you managed to stand up, unassisted. She gazed at you for a few moments, before gently wrapping you up in a tight embrace.

“Hi, Ale.” You giggled into her shoulder, your arms linking around her neck.

“I am so proud of you.” She whispered before sweetly kissing your cheek. Then she pulled back, her hands raising from your back to your neck as she smiled down at you. “So proud. Of you getting to work this morning, of your hard work. Of everything. So proud.”

You blushed and sheepishly averted your eyes to your shoes, only for Alexia to push your chin back up with her thumbs. 

“Yeah, I get it, you're proud.” You mumbled light-heartedly, watching as she chuckled and nodded.

“I am, would you like to hear me say it again? I am so pro-” You interrupted her by covering her mouth, preventing her from talking. However, she out-strengthed you, so she easily pulled your hand away and shook her head. “I'm proud, and I love you.”

Despite there still being some of your teammates and staff members around, she cupped your cheeks and kissed you fervently. All care flew out the window; she was overflowing with admiration, and she had to make sure you knew it. With the way her lips moved against yours and how her hands held you, it took barely a second for you to become aware of that.

It was a great day, in the end. And though you did need a weekend off like you were given, by the time Monday came around, you were more determined than ever. 

—

From that day onwards, time flew by. Weirdly, a dream scenario occurred. You grew hyperfixated on the progress you were making. Your doctors and the people around you were always there to ensure that it remained a healthy hyperfixation, which it did. Although there were a few situations where others had to gently intervene or check in with you, for the most part you handled your circumstance perfectly. 

You had eventually grown into a comfortable routine that you stuck to by the minute everyday. And with your happiness, came that of others. Alexia was honoured to have a front row seat to it all. Like she had predicted, you had rediscovered joy in the small things, and it was evident to her and the rest of the team when you were lacing your boots up for the first time in weeks whilst sat on the grass. The simple, awfully familiar act had caused a smile to show on your face. 

Your teammates were watching from afar, whilst Alexia and Ingrid were stood beside your trainers and chatting with them about the day’s plan. Today was the day you would be running on the grass again. It was the end of April, and tomorrow, Barça were due to play the second leg of the semi-final against Real Madrid in the capital. Nobody had said it, but they were all thinking it: watching you achieve this milestone was a huge boost in motivation for them to secure a place in the final.

Multiple of them had their phones out to record the moment, and you tried to school the giant smile that was fast on its way to forming when you took your first step of your run. It felt fucking good. A simple bit of running had never given you so much euphoria. There were no aches, no pains, no twinges or discomfort, everything was the same as it used to be. 

Once you had done your first lap of the pitch’s width, you went back to the physios with a shy grin. Ingrid gave Alexia a teasing nudge as the older woman had a certain gloss to her eyes, and she groaned under her breath before blinking suspiciously quick. The pair watched you conversate with the trainers before they gave you the all clear to get started on some basic running drills. 

By then, your other teammates were ordered to start practice, whilst Ingrid and Alexia wormed their way out of it a bit longer so they could be there for you. To your surprise, you grew tired quite quickly, though you supposed over four weeks of no cardio would do that to you. Yet, your leg still had no issues. It would be a bit longer before you went back to proper training, but you would happily take this. Because for now, you felt on top of the world. 

Ingrid and Alexia bid their goodbyes, hugging you and whispering their pride, before jogging away to get to work. On your way into the building for yet more physio, you had to pass the rest of the squad, and of course there was a certain Spaniard that was unable to keep her mouth closed.

“La reina de la reina is back!” She shouted, both arms in the air like a toddler. Your teammates cheered along with her, making it known just how happy they were for you. You laughed at their show of affection, pushing down the bubble of emotions it kicked off inside you. Nowadays, you were almost certain you belonged with them.

Later on, you travelled with them to Madrid, but not before they all congratulated you and made jovial jabs that had you laughing until your stomach ached. Ultimately though, the excitement of it all and the physical exertion had tired you out. Alexia was more than happy to let you sleep on her shoulder for the whole journey through Spain.

You weren’t even playing in the game the next day, but from the moment you stepped foot in the city, you were wracked with nerves. It wasn’t that you didn’t have faith in your team, it was that if for some reason they didn’t get to the final, it would feel like all your hard work was for nothing. Yes, you would be back playing football and it would be an incredible personal achievement, but… the thought kept you up that night. Alexia slept soundly beside you, not a worry in her mind about it, and yet you were so anxious that a deep feeling of nausea set in. 

Travelling on the coach to the ground was the same; that anxiety was still there, and whilst the rest of the team was pretty relaxed about it considering they already had a two goal advantage, your good leg was bouncing up and down rapidly. The blonde captain beside you noticed it when she looked away from her phone and she frowned, knowing it was a common thing you did when you were stressed. Mapi and Ingrid were chattering away between themselves across the table from you, none the wiser thus far.

“Cariño, are you okay?” Alexia asked quietly, her hand landing on your knee and breaking you out of your anxious trance. You gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded, gulping and looking away afterwards. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Just nervous about the game.” You replied with a nonchalant shrug, which caught the attention of the pair in front of you. Mapi cut Alexia off before she could speak.

“Hey, after the final, why don’t we all go on vacation together in Portugal? Ingrid and I went last summer, it was perfect.” She suggested, Ingrid immediately lighting up and nodding excitedly.

“It really was, we should go together.” The taller woman bursted off into a ramble about the place they stayed in, Mapi cutting in every so often. It helped to keep you distracted and Alexia agreed on behalf of you both, the three of them delving into details. 

Despite all that, the second the coach stopped, it all came rushing back. Thankfully, you were going to be sitting on the bench for the game rather than in the stands, though there wasn’t really anything to make you feel better until the final whistle was blown. 

If circumstances were different and you were playing, chances are you probably wouldn't even be half as nervous. As a player, you have a certain amount of control over the outcome. As a fan, there's nothing you can do except watch. And bite your nails, and bounce your leg, and the sorts. Being around the team would surely be better than alone with the fans, so hopefully that would put you somewhat at ease. Yet, even if Barça scored ten goals throughout the game, until that whistle blew, you'd still be on edge.

That being said, the best thing about playing for FC Barcelona is that they're pretty fucking good at their sport. Granted, like Mapi said, it was their job (and yours too of course), but that didn't stop you from being blown away by the talent each player holds.

Being on the field with them is one thing, watching them is another. It's an art form, their style of play, and being in your position on the bench with Irene on one side and Jana on the other, the three of you have your jaws stuck to the ground. The game was flawless on the team’s behalf; zero goals conceded, zero yellow cards, and three goals to go with the two from the last game. Watching Alexia Maradona turn herself out of the triangle of las blancas players she'd been caught in might have been the most attractive thing you had ever seen. The free kick she scored, just like the ones you had seen her do morning after morning, topped that skill move as soon as it went in. 

Moreover, Cata’s triple save in the dying minutes of the game to save her clean sheet really was the cherry on the cake. The referee signalled the end of the game after that, Mapi having taken the ball to the corner flag to let the clock tick down, and you were near enough in tears.

You had made it. You were in the Champion's League final. And with the way you were progressing in rehab, it was looking more and more likely by the day that you would at least get some minutes in the biggest game of your career.

Vicky tugged you up out of your chair and pulled you onto the pitch, where the rest of your team were celebrating. Yes, you were in this team too. That display they'd just put on, you were part of it. The badge on their chests, you wore it too. 

It wasn't a moment of impostor syndrome like it had been in the past. Here, it was a moment of gratitude, disbelief. This was your team, and you were in the final of the most prestigious tournament for club football. 

The younger attacker at your side swung your hands between you both in utter elation as you jogged to the huddle of blaugrana in the centre of the field. You don't know who was where or what was going on, but without a care in the world, you ran up to them and jumped on the back of the first person you could reach. Looking down, you realised it was Esmee, so you hugged her tightly whilst still on her back before jumping down carefully greeting her properly.

For a little while, it was just a heap of bodies, laughing and cheering and dancing to whatever music rang through the stadium’s speakers. However, at some point, you ended up in the middle of the group. And with this team's record, it was only a matter of time.

“Hey, hey, put her down! She's still injured!” Alexia shouted as she ran over from her media duties to find you being thrown in the air by them all. “Dios mío, estáis como una cabra. No usáis el cerebro? Ojalá tuvierais tanto sentido común como talento!” 

“Cálmate, capi! Look how happy she is!” Jana slung an arm around Alexia's shoulders as the pair stood back and observed the chaos ensuing. Alexia huffed and crossed her arms. “You really did play for her, huh? You did it for loooove.”

“Vete al carajo, nena.” Alexia grumbled, leaving her side but not without a quick kiss to her cheek. “Oye, basta! Ahora!”

With you laughing away, the girls finally put you back on the ground as Alexia shoved her way through to you. You were none the wiser to her demands, so the second you saw her, you smiled brightly and went to hug her. The smile was immediately wiped away and replaced with a puzzled frown when her hands clutched your shoulders and her eyes roved up and down your body.

“Did they hurt you? Is your leg okay?” She questioned with a disapproving stare and a flare to her nostrils.

“No, it was just a bit of fun, I-”

“Good. I would have killed them if they reinjured you.” She mumbled, now giving you the hug you wanted in the first place. The tension in her muscles evaporated in your hold, and it was then you knew she wasn't actually angry. “We are in the final, amor.”

“We're in the final.” You echoed in a whisper, pulling back to gaze up at her with a childlike grin that failed to conceal the excitement bursting through you. “We're in the final!”

“Sí, a la final, min engel! Your final!” She met your giddiness with an intensity of her own, taking your hands in hers and intertwining your fingers. You went to step back from her, only for the captain to pull you back in until your noses were touching. Discreetly, hidden by the team around you, she kissed the corner of your mouth, knowing you were mostly out of view of the fans. Then, she moved so that you were cheek to cheek, her lips beside your ear. “That trophy is yours already. And I can't wait to play football with you again.”

The bashful smile you rewarded her sentiment with was far better than any accolade or achievement Alexia could ever get.

—

Life got pretty busy from that day onwards, it was full steam ahead to get the tail end of the season completed. By the end of May, you were back in full team training, and when you had completed your first session, your cheeks ached from smiling. Of course, once it had finished, a number of your teammates decided the best way to celebrate it there and then was to uncap their bottles and spray you down with sports drinks like it was champagne. If anyone asked what the teardrops on your cheeks were from, at least you had an excuse to cover your unwanted expression of joy.

And when the month of May was done and over with, it was time for the last game of your first season in Spain. What a game it was.

Stepping out onto the vibrant green grass in Lisbon for MD-1 training at the stadium was a memory you would treasure forever. Sure, when you were actually playing in the final the next day, that might overshadow it, but nobody could take that first step away from you. 

The plan for the game was that you would be subbed on at any fitting moment from the 60th minute onwards. You didn’t care that it wasn’t a full game, that was ample time to make your mark and stamp your name into the footballing history books. You’d make sure that would happen if it was the last thing you did.

Except, things don’t always go as planned. 

Being 1-0 down at halftime was not how the team wanted it to play out. 

Frustration was written on everybody’s faces as the locker room filled up, wondering how on earth it had gone wrong like it had. With the way the other team was playing, the game plan had to be reworked. And boy, was it. 

It was decided that you would be substituted on at half-time instead. Was it risky? Probably. But the trainers were okay with it, Jona was happy with it, and you were delighted at the change of events. Perhaps you shouldn’t say that to anyone else, considering your team was a goal down, but there was no hiding it. Alexia took one glance at your face and knew you were about to hold the opposition accountable for the tragic mistake they had made. Retribution was to be had, not just against the other side, but you were about to kick off your revenge tour. There was a sense of danger about you when you entered the field, and rightly so.

Within minutes of the second half, Pina scored to equal the scoring. Aitana was there to collect the ball from the back of the net and bring it back to the centre circle to restart the game. It was a one-sided affair from there. 

Barcelona Femení had inflicted damage upon most teams in Europe by now, they had a reputation. Nobody should count them out, put them down, and most of all, underestimate them. With you added to the team, a fatalistic striker that had a deadly right foot, there was no chance that that trophy wasn’t going your way.

A fair amount of pressure was all it took for the other team to crumble. Their legs were tiring as a result of the constant pressing they faced, and their defence was quickly falling apart. A sharp, direct through ball from Caro was everything you needed. One swift strike of the ball later, and the white squares of the net rippled in tandem with the blaugrana fans that decorated most of the stadium. 

Every low of the last two months suddenly didn’t matter when you were running off to one corner of the pitch, every member of your team following behind you. All the difficulties, all the meltdowns, all the sleepless nights, they were worth it. 

Since you had a headstart in the celebrations, you came to a stop just before your teammates did. 

For a split second, it was just you. You and the pride and the relief that pulsed through you at what you had achieved. There were still a number of minutes left of the game, but that didn’t matter. Not once in your life had you ever felt elation like it, you’d bottle it up if you could. Bottle it up, label it, and put it on your living room shelf as a constant, ever-present reminder of your ability. 

Oh wait, you could just use your medal instead.

That moment of awe and wonder was quickly interrupted by twenty screaming bodies crowding around you - the on-field players as well as the substitutes, the staff, and god knows who else. 

At the heart of the huddle? Alexia and yourself, just like it was in Madrid. 

The midfielder was speechless, there was a million things she wanted to say but not one came out. Instead, she simply looked at you with her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, before you put her out of her misery and jumped into her arms. She caught you with ease, holding you tight to her as your head span on a swivel looking at the thousands of Barça fans all celebrating you. 

Still in the arms of the woman you loved, Mapi grabbed your arm and shook you back and forth in admiration.

“Preciosa, qué coño?!” She bellowed, Alexia laughing as she gazed up at you.

The captain carefully lowered you to the ground, hoping to finally get a word in, when your best friend wrapped her long Scandinavian limbs around you and squealed directly in your ear.

“I am so proud of you, søster! I can’t believe it!” Ingrid stated in one long continuous squeal, squeezing you to death. 

The celebrations carried on probably far longer than they should, but soon you were making your way back to your starting position with Alexia almost glued to your side. When it had all calmed down, some softer emotions settled. Before, it was intense with adrenaline running fast and high. Now, a quiet, content sense of pride and disbelief draped itself, without much commotion, over your heart like a warm blanket. It was such a raw and strong feeling that, rather inconveniently, it brought tears to your eyes.

“Cariño, are you crying?” Alexia asked in an ever so slightly teasing tone. You shoved her away lightly, smiling when she gave a giddy laugh. “Come on, the game isn’t done yet! We might not even win.”

“Alexia!”

Playing the rest of the game after such an emotional high was probably harder than rehab itself. Your legs were about as stable as jelly, and everytime you thought you’d finally willed the tears away, your eyesight glazed over again. 

Evidently, the world was on your side today.

Hearing that whistle blow evoked that same bottled up feeling from before as you fell to your knees in relief. The word ‘surreal’ never felt more fitting than it did as you slumped over onto your back, the sky above you coloured with the pink and orange of Lisbon’s setting sun. Weirdly, there wasn’t much on your mind, it was more of a quiet hum that brought peace, like a distant radio or the pattering of rain against a window. The only thing that stood out to you was the fact you had accomplished the one thing that always seemed to escape you. But not anymore.

It was in this moment where you realised that this dream of yours was never just about achieving your end goal - it was about becoming the person with the strength to get there. This victory isn’t just about what you’ve gained, but who you’ve become. You’ve honoured your potential in a way you never could have imagined, and though the road to get here was long, dark, and uncomfortably bumpy, you were now able to reap the benefits of your determination that had certainly reached new heights. 

There was a phrase you first heard when you were younger: ‘it took a village.’ Back then, you would scrunch your nose up at it, unsure what it meant or what on earth a village had to do with anything. However, now as an adult with a support system that was built on an indestructible foundation of love, you knew that it truly did take a village to thrive. 

It was embedded in human nature since the first generation of life that having a shoulder to cry on and a soul to confide in, as well as people to laugh and share the joys with, were the most important thing anybody could need. Where you might have pushed that away in the past and claimed it wasn’t what you needed, there isn’t a better moment to acknowledge that without that, this moment simply would not have happened.

And when you raise the trophy, with a gold medal around your neck, confetti in your hair, and your newfound family around you, you stand firm in the assurance that you are capable of anything.

—

let me know what you think :) for now at least, this is the last idea i have for this world, if there is anything you wanna see in a story, let me know! i love this world and will never be able to leave it alone, so you are welcome to bombard me with any ideas, big or small. im very very very thankful for all the love this little universe has gotten so thank you for reading it, i couldn't have imagined it would go like this! but it's been one of my favourite things ive done and that is down to all the lovely people reading it. lotta love for you all <3

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [8]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9

"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.

Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."

Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"

"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.

He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.

Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.

The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."

Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.

"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."

Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."

"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."

Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"

Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.

"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."

Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.

The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.

In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"

Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.

As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.

But you weren't entirely alone, of course.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.

"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.

You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.

With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."

Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.

Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."

Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."

Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."

As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."

"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.

Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."

Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."

You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"

This time, you nodded with a wide smile.

"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."

Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.

With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."

He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."

Mission accomplished.

Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."

As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."

"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."

His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.

"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.

Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."

Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.

Yes, he's here with you now.

Nothing bad will happen.

His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."

The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"

Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.

The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"

"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.

You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.

Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.

Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."

The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."

"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."

"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.

Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"

Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"

The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.

"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.

All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.

Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.

Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.

But what if there was still hope for them?

What if they had a chance?

After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.

You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."

That should be me!

The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?

In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."

Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"

"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.

Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."

Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.

Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.

Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.

Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.

Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?

"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.

Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."

"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.

Your real home, not this nightmare.

« Preview of Part 9 »

As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.

"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.

You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.

If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?

Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."

Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.

"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."

Oh, crap.

Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈

Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[rileysluvr]

basically just könig with a mommy kink i am so so sorry.

Your head turned in your sleep, brows furrowing as you slowly became aware of the unfamiliar position you were in; on your back, skin exposed to the chilly, night air of your quarters. Hot mouth, and the strange absence of weight next to you, though all still not enough to bring you from your slumber. Your arm stretched in search of your boyfriend, only to find the wrinkled sheets below you.

A sudden and heavy dip in the mattress at your feet had you taking a deep breath, humming in unidentifiable confusion, shoulders sinking as you ultimately woke to the feeling of your panties being pulled down your thighs with unsteady hands. You blinked heavily to focus yourself, gray moonlight allowing you to just barely make out the hulking figure of the man you loved in front of you, thick palms wrapping around and dwarfing your soft calves and pushing them up, knees bent and spread to his liking.

He sleepily situated himself closer to you, back on his knees and heels with a lazy hand stroking his excruciatingly sore and hard cock as he moved. He couldn’t even say how long he had himself like that for, fucking his hand to the thought of you taking him again.

The thought of your plush body above his, gentle voice cooing him through yet another high as you rode him, much like you had done mere hours ago. His mouth latched onto your tits as you cradled his face in your hands, your fingers running through his messy hair. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you took care of him, the center of your world. When you’d lay him on his back and plant your palms on his abs and chest, persuade him to just let go, relax for once, with the sweet grinding of your hips and sultry voice in his ear that electrified every bone in his body. Crawl down his body, tease each muscle leading to his cock, have him as a whining mess before ever even taking him in your mouth, that is if he didn’t cum from just the kisses on his v-line in the first place.

He got off to the past as he laid next to you, eventually hovering above you, staring at your relaxed face while he jerked himself, jaw slack and eyes blown out. Your pretty face resting so beautifully in your sleep, hair daintily sprawled out onto the pillow below you. The kind of body an ancient Greek sculptor would work his entire life up to modeling, in all of its natural curves and features. He had no clue how he had you, but he was hooked, utterly addicted, to the drug of you.

You rubbed your eyes as you tried to sit up on your elbows, coming to sense with what was going on before his looming figure stopped you. His hands move to your shoulders to lay you back down, soothe your nerves, before returning one of them to his cock. The other remained on your body, and it dragged downward when you returned to laying on your back.

“I’m s’sorry, Mommy,” he slurred tiredly, whining in desperation. “’M sorry, I really didn’t want to wake you but I couldn’t take it much longer, I- I couldn’t help myself.”

How your body was rubbing up against his in your sleep, unintentionally working him up beyond his own control. He couldn’t sleep because of it, or think about anything else. He couldn’t stop himself, he was surprised he could even move with how overwhelming the sensitivity in every nerve of his body was.

You stared up at him dumbly, a particular instinct boiling in your gut that had your arousal washing over you in no time.

“Please-,” he needily choked, tongue caught with salivation and pathetic moans slipping from his lips with every stroke of his fist. His heavy and rough palm on your belly gently raised with your breathing, veins popping and prominent even with the limited light. It moved in slow circles over your softer skin, barely having to move much to cover the expanse of it all. It’s almost dominating, the small gesture, yet he meant it out of pure worship and adoration and love. “Please let me, Momma, please-…I need more-…I need you so badly, a-and my hand isn’t enough. I’ll beg all I have to, Mommy, I’ll do anything, just please help me.”

You blinked, and then nodded feverishly, lips slack and dry, unable to form a single thought other than his pleasure - your sweet boy’s release, more than well-deserved, for just being so goddamn good and sweet all around. You leaned up, taking his tired face in your weak hands, just as distraught yourself.

“You have me, Baby.” You pulled him into a kiss, wet and lazy, and enough spark to start a fire between you two, before purring again, “Take me however you want, Köni, I want you t’feel good.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” he panted, and you laid your head back on the pillow below you, stretching your shoulders. He took his cock and you gasped as he shoved the velvety, damp tip into your soaked pussy, with shameful, unruly whimpers slipping from his lips, barely giving you any time to adjust. You ached from earlier, a soreness you would so easily ignore, so caught up with wanting him to be satisfied. He started to grind his hips into yours, groaning lowly with how you were squeezing around him. His movements were sloppy with how tired he was, already giving up on keeping his eyes open.

His forearms landed on either side of you, barely able to hold himself up. Sleepiness and neediness; your favorite looks on him. Your hands on his waist were practically holding him up for him, guiding him, one coming up to hold the back of his neck in solace.

“There’s my good boy…I know you’re tired, Baby, but you’re being so strong f’me, y’know that? So proud of you.” His cock twitched incessantly inside you, your voice and his oversensitivity being his downfall as the vilest whimpers emitted from his throat. He knew he wouldn’t be lasting long, he couldn’t hold himself out, and he apologized profusely for it, mouth running faster than what his mind could keep up with. “Don’t be sorry, Baby,” you slurred. “I’m here.”

He’s rapid with his words as always, “Say it again, please, say it again, say you’re proud of me, Momma.”

“I’m always proud of you, Honey. My sweet boy deserves the world, doesn’t he? Always so charming and pretty, and…fuck-, fucking me so good, Baby, God, you’re so big…so perfect ‘nd sweet f’me all the time.”

Tears welled in his eyes as he rutted his hips into you, burying his face in your neck with the pounding in his head from his sensitivity and neediness overtaking him. Soaking and staining your shoulder with his tears, panting his hot breath on your skin, weak with his grinding and inconsistent in his movements. Strongest soldier anyone knew, to a small, blabbering mess of whines and desperation under you because, despite him actually being the one on top, you just had that sort of power over him.

Your short and sweet moans in his ear only spurred him on, relentlessly torturing him and tightening the coil in his lower stomach as your pussy fluttered around him.

“I’m gonna-…scheisse, I’m sorry, Momma,” he choked, nearly sobbing into your neck, shattered over the fact you wouldn’t be finishing with him. His thrusts picking up only a bit, you immediately brought your hands to cradle the back of his head, holding him close. “I can’t-”

“Shh, Baby, it’s okay,” you managed to somewhat control your voice through choked gasps for air. “Just be a good boy for Mommy and cum, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

He nodded frantically against your shoulder, and with just a few more thrusts, the coil in his gut finally released. He came in your pussy with heavy breathing and a broken moan against your skin, spilling his hot cum inside you as you cooed him through his high, riding you until he physically couldn’t anymore. You shivered from the sensation, nails scratching his head and back when some of his weight fell on top of you, body half-given out and collapsed.

Scooted down a bit, he wrapped his arms around your waist with the side of his face resting between your breasts, eyes locked closed.

“That feel good, Köni? You feel better now?” Your voice was soft, wary of his tired state.

“Mhm, danke,” he muttered, squeezing his arms tighter.

“I’m glad,” you hummed with a smile.

You would lay there for a bit, in blissful silence as you rubbed the back of his head. Feeling his chest dip against your belly with every breath he took, barely able to breathe yourself. Still, you’d rather be here than anywhere else. His weight on you was nothing but comfortable, and being held in his big arms sometimes made you question how you had so much power over him, how he just allowed it, despite his reputation. You felt yourself becoming drowsier by the second, lulled by the dim moonlight and sweetness of his hold.

“I love you,” you said, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. Bless him, he was so exhausted, he had already fallen asleep. You smiled to yourself, before allowing the wave of tiredness to finally take you.

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The cold truth

Artful Dodger one shot. Jack Dawkins x fem reader

Before Fagin's return, before Belle, before it all there was y/n. The first woman to break Jack's heart. He kept her portrait in a silver locket, the chain hanging on his bed. One day, long after her operation Belle sits in the hospital going over medical text when Hetty comes into her. Seeing the locket in Belle's hand she tells her the story.

"She was a lovely girl, a nurse here. Odd though because she was married. So many of us live a solitary life but not y/n. She was such a wonderful spirit. I'm convinced she could make the dead dance with her joy. None of us could have known. Jack was the first to notice the changes, they were so small at first. Y/n had always had the most beautiful red hair, it was so thick she could hardly contain it and would have it tied several plates pinned about her head. I remember Jack coming to me one morning, the spirals were gone. It was all chopped off up to her shoulders. Y/n wouldn't tell us what happened.

Then it was the bruises. Poking out of her dress on her neck, her arms you know. She just kept saying she was clumsy, but we spent hours with her and none of us ever saw her even trip. Jack tries to ask her once but she brushed him off.

I don't know if it was her original joy or the subsequent lack of it, but the doctor seemed fixated on her. He needed to know what was happening.

One time he bumped into her, knocking her ribs and the touch sent y/n to the floor. Shocked by the reaction Jack took her aside and checked her over. Y/n had a bruise that covered her whole left side. Angry and red, purple, blue. Still she wouldn't tell us a thing. Jack took it upon himself to look after her. Noting that she would often work a whole day without a bite of food he began making extra lunch and sitting with her.

He would talk about her when she wasn't around. Retelling her jokes and talking of her beauty.

Of course we know now that it was her husband. He cut her hair off with an axe. Said she was too vain about her appearance and a nurse didn't need long hair. The beatings were worse. He would attack her for any little mistakes. Her ribs? That was because she had burnt dinner one night. He was an awful man. We only found out because Jack found her wandering the streets on his way home for the cat and bagpipes. He had kicked her out of their house. I don't remember what for, but Jack found her and he took care of her. By then the only time I saw her happy was when they were sat together. She told him everything and he promised to help her. Said she could have a bed in our nurses quarters. She even appeared happy for a while, the two of em did.

A week or so later she went home to collect her things, convinced her husband would be at work. He wasn't.

She managed to get back here. I'll never know how she made it. One broken leg, a fractured elbow and a knife in her gut. She did though, she came stumbling in. I think I screamed when I saw her. Jack rushed her into the theatre, but this was about a year before you came along. There was nothing he could do with the knife wound. That damn blade was wide enough to take down an elephant. Ripped her up so badly inside. She couldn't breathe and the blood was pouring into her lungs.

Jack tried and tried until she asked him to stop. Exhausted and covered in her blood, Jack was ready to collapse himself. She held tight to his hand and looked into his eyes.

"No, no y/n, you gotta fight this. You can't die." Jack begged her.

"Jack, I have to go. I'm sorry. You can't save me." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. Jack held on to her. I had hoped his will alone might make God knit her back together. My faith took a knock that day and I'm not afraid to admit it. The look on that boys face when they insisted on taking her away. Tim had to hold him to keep Jack from following her body to the grave.

We all changed after that day. The first time one of our own bad died so brutally. Jack wasn't the same. He threw himself into his work, his competition with Sneed.

You know there are times when he still visits her grave. Maybe that's why he was so desperate to save you, Lady Belle. Jack's poor heart couldn't take another love being ripped away from him. It's a lovely portrait of her. " She finishes by glancing over Belle's shoulder at the lockett.

"he's in prison, so you think, do you think you could take me to her grave?" Belle asks.

It's a small wooden cross with her name carved into it.

"we couldn't afford a real headstone. " Hetty explains. Belle bent to touch the wood, running her fingers over the carved wood.

"What happened to the husband?"

"Got himself hanged for his troubles three weeks after. It took three hours for him to die. Come on now miss we should get you back before you're missed." Hetty reminded her.

"of course. I shall bring y/n flowers tomorrow."

"very good Milady "

[professorsnape394]

Day 3: Haunted Hijinks

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC

Rating: 🥰?

Prompt: Haunt

A/N: So I had initially intended for his to be a shorter story but it ended up being even bigger than my last. I apologise if there maybe isn't quite enough Snape for you, but good news is there will be a part 2!

Warnings: ghosts?

Word Count: 2518

Credits to Gif Creator

Week 1

The haunting started just as I had anticipated. Doors slamming, objects randomly disappearing and reappearing in different places, drawers sporadically flinging themselves open and emptying their entire contents onto the floor.

I wasn’t scared. I knew it was coming.

When I first joined the school Minerva was over the moon to have her favourite student joining the faculty. I received an overwhelmingly warm welcome by everyone… everyone, except two.

The first was to be expected. Severus Snape was never a man for comradery. Despite the fact we had both attended Hogwarts at the same time as teens, my presence here didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. While I had been admittedly disappointed by his cold reception, I wasn’t surprised by it. Snape rarely acknowledged me, even when we had shared classes together. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he didn’t even know I existed.

The second, less then pleasant reception, came from a poltergeist.

As confirmed by Minerva, Peeves had a habit of making every new professor’s life at Hogwarts a living hell. Everyone had experienced the same treatment, all except one.

The torment was to last one month exactly, worsening as the weeks went on. This was his way of initiating you into the faculty apparently. The silver lining of it all though, was after the month was done, no professor would be pestered by the poltergeist thereafter.

The first week passed without issue. Yes, it was annoying to go to pick up your hairbrush only to have it vanish from plain sight. And constantly tidying up the contents of my desk was becoming a bit of a nuisance but nothing I couldn’t handle for the next few weeks.

Week 2

“Peeves!” I groaned, jumping from my chair, as my whole desk hit the floor. “I’m trying to work.”

The room echoed with deep belly laughter, an apparition of the ghost appearing as he zoomed from one side of the room to the other.

Books flew from their spot on the bookcase, smashing into the opposite wall before fluttering to the floor. One after the other the shelves emptied themselves, leaving only the bare bones of the old oak bookcase.

While trying to right my upturned desk, a loud creaking caught my attention.

“No!” I screamed, watching the shelves come crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

This had been the way of the week. Standing by, watching the poltergeist wreak havoc on my chambers, powerless to stop his antics. Within the short space of a week Peeves had turned my life upside down. Every day I awoke to each room in my quarters being completely trashed by the ghost. My clothes were piled high, the empty drawers dumped beside them, class assignments and student essays lay scattered across the floor, he had even taken to raiding my bathroom cupboards, squeezing out the contents of every bottle he came across, smearing it over the floor, walls and mirrors.

Despite my efforts to clean up after him, I soon realised it was a futile task. No matter how quickly I cleaned up one mess, Peeves had already created three more. It was halfway through the week when I realised it would be easier to live with the mess for the next two and a half weeks. Paying my dues turned out to be a lot messier than I had anticipated.

Week 3

The penultimate week took a different toll than the others. I saw Peeves a lot more than he had previously allowed; choosing to take to his physical form and follow me around the castle grounds.

He whispered nonsense in my ear, spoke over me while I taught, interrupted my conversations with my colleagues and worst of all he sang. Day and night, Peeves belted out a badly pitched tune, throwing in the occasional made-up limerick to just to taunt me.

Last night was a particularly difficult night. Somehow Peeves had gathered every radio, gramophone and record player from around the school and scattered them throughout my bedroom. Dozens of different melodies blasted through the speakers, all while Peeves sung along to songs that he never even knew the words to.

My three-day migraine turning into four, I was surviving purely off of caffeine and sheer will power at this point. I hadn’t had a minute of sleep since the week began, and I wasn’t sure I could cope with it any longer.

“Not long now, my dear.” McGonagall encouraged, gently patting my arm reassuringly.

Struggling to keep my eyes open, I took another large swig of my morning coffee. “How did you put up with it, Minerva. I don’t think I can last much longer; it’s beginning to affect my teaching.”

“I’m afraid it’s just one of those things we have all had to endure, my dear.”

“Not everybody.” I huffed, turning my narrowed gaze to the potions master at the far end of the table. “How did he get away with it? Why doesn’t Peeves make his life hell.”

“That would have to be a question you ask Severus.”

“Pft.” I grunted. “He’d never tell me. He hasn’t even spoke to me since I started here.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“No but…” I didn’t have any excuse.

“Then maybe now is your chance. Severus had never been one to make the first step, but I know he’d appreciate it if you paid him a visit.”

“Do you think he even remembers me? I mean it’s been years since we were in school and even then we didn’t exactly run in the same circles.”

“I’m positive he’ll remember you, Y/N, maybe more than you’d expect.”

“What’s that supposed to mea- “

Before I had a chance to finish my sentence, my mug of coffee flew from my grasp, levitating in the air tauntingly, before finally tipping its entire contents onto my lap.

I jumped from the table with a gasp, thanking Merlin the beverage had time to cool before I was scolded.

My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Not only was my dress and robes stained dark with coffee but the entire school had been privy to my torment.

I immediately ran from the Great Hall, hoping to escape any further public teasing from the spectre.

By the time the school day had come to an end my head was pounding from the lack of sleep, Peeves had interrupted all six of my classes today, and I had heard students whispering about the coffee fiasco on more than one occasion.

This was my breaking point.

Putting aside my shame and anxiety, I stormed down to the Dungeons to find out how Snape escaped the poltergeist’s awful induction. I was willing to beg on my knees if that is what it took.

“Y/N?” Snape breathed, seemingly shocked at the sight of me on his doorstep.

“I need your help Severus. Please.”

“Come in.” He granted, clearing his throat as he returned to the room.

I took a seat by the fire, waiting for him to join me. Instead, the potions professor paced around the room, never quite settling on one spot.

“It’s nice to see you again.” I called over my shoulder to him, hoping to break the ice.

“Is it?” He stumbled. “I mean; yes, it is.”

“It’s been a long time; I don’t even think I remember the last time we saw each other.”

“Graduation.” He said without hesitating. “I saw you afterwards in the Hog’s Head with Potter and Black.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about that.” I chuckled nervously, wondering how he possibly remembered that when I couldn’t.

“I remember Sirius got so drunk that night, he ended up sleeping at mine and-

“What do you want, Y/N.” Severus snapped, his entire demeanour changing as he made his way to stand in front of me.

“I need your help.” I repeated.

“With the Poltergeist I presume.”

I nodded simply in response, suddenly understanding why the students found him so intimidating.

He had changed a lot since school. He was no longer the scrawny little teenager whose clothes never quite fit. He was a man now, tall and built out. His clothes fit him perfectly, they even showcased the outline of a bicep on either arm. His voice was like velvet, deep and rich, and it hit my ear in exactly the right way. His face, while no longer youthful, suited the aged lines etched into his forehead. His eyes had always been my favourite though; dark as the night sky and just as mysterious. I never could bare the intensity of his gaze and experiencing it now made me feel just like that awkward 14-year-old again.

“Peeves is not one to be stopped. With exception of Dumbledore and the Bloody Baron he listens to nobody. A deal was struct with a previous headmaster to allow the spectre to have his fun for one month, after which he is not to intervene with the professors to ensure the sanctity of the school and the students education.”

“But he never tormented you.” I whispered, hoping to gain some more insight.

“I cannot help you.” Snape’s eyes saddened.

“Why not? Is it because we were never friends in school? I tried to talk to you Severus, I did, but you just never seemed interested, I- ”

“I cannot help you, Y/N, because I did nothing to deter the ghost.” I opened my mouth to object, but Snape never gave me a chance to speak. “Peeves never haunted me because he never wanted to. It is my understanding that before the castle was built, these dungeons were the grounds in which Peeves was brutally murdered, more specifically, this very room. The ghost refuses to enter my chambers at all. I cannot help you, Y/N, because the only place in this whole castle where you can escape the phantom is here.”

My shoulders drooped at the revelation.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked like he really meant.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault.” I puffed, trying not to sound as disappointed as I was. “I guess I’ll just have to suck it up like everyone else, I guess.”

Realising Snape probably didn’t want me to stick around for some unnecessary small talk, I immediately tried to make myself scarce. However, while heading out the door I was forced to stop in my tracks.

“Y/N.” Severus called after me.

God, I loved the way he said my name.

“If you ever need a break from him. To do your marking or even just to read for a bit, you can come here. There door is always open.”

“Thank you, Severus. I really appreciate that.” Though it wasn’t likely I’d ever take him up on the offer. Being in such close quarters with a man like him was bound to set me nerves on edge.

Week 4

With 7 days to go until my living hell was no more, I was sure I could power through the fourth and final week.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Day one came in full force. I awoke to the deafening sound of fireworks; fizzing and sparkling at the end of my bed. My heart pounded in my chest; the combination of insomnia, my high caffeine intake and now this, heart palpitations had become a regular occurrence for me.

Nevertheless, I promised myself to power through the day, trudging out of bed to start my classes. I waded through piles of my belongings; the floor hadn’t been visible for a fortnight now and I was almost starting to get used to it. As I made my way to the bathroom, I flicked my wand turning off each blaring radio as I went, hoping it would earn me a moments peace before I was thrust into the chaos of Hogwarts.

True disaster stuck, however, as I approached the hall leading to the bathroom. A sharp shiver shot through up my spine as something squelched underneath my bare feet. I closed my eyes, praying it wasn’t what I thought had happened.

My favourite sweater lay sodden in the middle of the hall, amidst a pair of drenched leggings and a stack of soggy assignments. The hall had been completely flood, the source of course being; the bathroom.

“Please please please.” I repeated to myself as I gripped the door handle tight.

Giving me no time at all to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable state of the bathroom, Peeves appeared on the other side of the door, yanking it open forcefully, taking me with it. I was instantly flung into the deep end, finding myself standing in the middle of a domestic rain shower. The shower, the sink AND the toilet all had water spurting out of them, drowning the room until I was in an ankle-deep puddle. Even the bath was overflowing, given that Peeves had deliberately put the stopper in it before choosing to burst the pipes.

I let out a long and frustrated scream.

“This has gone too far, Peeves!”

A far away laugh echoed through the chambers, he clearly got his desired reaction out of me.

While tempted to succumb to the ghosts’ antics; ready to ball myself on the floor and cry it out. I remembered I did have one other option.

No longer possessing a sense of shame I trudged my way through the castle halls wearing only my saturated silk pyjama set and a pair of waterlogged fluffy bunny slippers. My hair clung to the side of my face in strands of tangled curls, the wet ends dripping onto the floor behind me as I walked.

“Please don’t say no to this.” Were the first words out my mouth when Snape opened his door to me.

“Alright.” He answered without question.

“Can I stay with you.”

“Okay.”

“It’ll just be for the week and I can sleep on the couch, or even on the floor but at least I’ll sleep. And I’ll have to use your shower too, as you can probably tell my bathroom is currently incapacitated. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible, and I’ll literally owe you the biggest- Wait, what did you just say?”

“I said okay, Y/N.” It was clear the potions master was struggling not to roll his eyes at me forcing him to repeat himself.

“…But why?”

“I’m not quite as unaccommodating as people seem to assume. I’ve witnessed how much you have struggled these past three weeks. And I know, if you’ve shown up here begging for my help, it must be bad. So okay, you can stay for the week. But be warned, there will be some ground rules.”

“Oh My God, Severus I could kiss you right now. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

If he were anyone else, I’d have definitely thrown myself at them, crushing their torso to show my sheer gratitude. With Severus though, I knew he was not one for physical forms of affection, and given that I was soaked to the bone I realised it wouldn’t be wise to subject my saviour to my same fate.

“We’ll discuss my stipulations after dinner this evening. Now you best hurry up and take a shower if you want to make it in time for your first lesson of the day.”

As I sprinted to his bathroom, I could have sworn I spotted a small smirk tugging at the corner of Snape’s lips.

He really wasn’t as grouchy as he let on.

[coffeeandbatboys]

His New Religion (Wolffe x Fem!Reader)

for my friend @alegendoftomorrow in the @cloneficgiftexchange!

A/N: So this ended up summing up a lot of what happened before, during and after Right Here Waiting and its wedding sequel, part 2, which I know Legend had read, so my brain took the idea and ran with it.

Warnings: a little bit of angst, some awkward fluffies and a badly summed up slow burn with a happy ending

Prompt(s): “But somewhere there's a light//A sign that it's alright//I find it by your side” (New Religion, The Heydaze),

“Always thought those feelings, they were stories not made for me // It's terrifying, but I'm pretty certain it's worth it” || “I didn't know you were something I could need // Until you, until you loved my everything // The good, the bad, the in between, all of me” || “But all the hell we've been through had a purpose // Together we are chaos and it's perfect” (I Didn’t Know, Sofia Carson)

Wordcount: 856

If someone had sat cadet cc-3636 down and told him that he'd be living with the love of his life one day…

…He would have broken out laughing.

And yet Wolffe, the grumpy, no-nonsense commander of the 104th, had melted like a puddle the first night he spent in your embrace.

The two of you had met during a whirlwind campaign. You had needed him to sign some forms to accept supply restocks, and he’d obliged with a grumble, voicing his negative remarks about ‘redundant protocols’.

The next meeting happened in the mess hall. You’d been covering for a friend in the food line when you caught his sharp, analyzing gaze. With a blush and a smile, you served him his rations, a begrudgingly mumbled ‘thanks’ reaching your ears.

A few weeks later and it was in the medbay. You'd dropped a box on your foot, earning yourself a broken toe, while Wolffe had garnered a blaster graze to the bicep. He was reserved as usual, but engaged in some awkward, short-lived conversation about your odd jobs in the GAR while the medics patched the two of you up.

After that, you didn't see him for a long while.

And one night you found him at the door of your quarters, pacing; deciding whether he should knock or not. That was the night he had first asked you out on date.

Shore leave dates turned into nights curled in each others’ loving embrace and soft mornings filled with nothing but bliss. Harrowing weeks apart turned into joyful reunions and a growing love between you.

And one night, all of that became your beloved Wolffe falling to a knee and asking for the honor of your hand in marriage. You'd never given a second thought about saying yes.

You vividly remember after that weekend the way he kissed you goodbye and promised to return safely.

But as fate would have it, he was taken away from you. The Empire rose out of the Republic's ashes, throwing everyone's lives into pure chaos and cutting the ties between you and your love.

You didn't see your fiancé for a year. Instead, you'd joined a network of rogue clones that led you to Rex, and had began working with them.

Then there was Teth, where you saw him again, but not as an ally. You were glad to see Wolffe, despite the reunion being marred by grief and despair. But oh, how you wanted to reach out and bring him back into your arms, even knowing he wasn't the same.

Weeks passed, and he seemed to make his decision when Rex and Echo brought him back to the new base. He danced around the subject for a while, afraid to find out what you would say. But one look into your hopeful eyes was all it took for him to break down in your arms.

The two of you wed in a simple ceremony, surrounded by his brothers, who had become just as much family to you. In that moment, the trials of the past gave way to a hopeful future, with you and Wolffe facing the challenges of a tumultuous galaxy together.

Now today, as you look out into the setting sun, you smile. Who would have thought that a love tested by loyalty, betrayal and heartache would heal in such a way?

Wolffe hums behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as a kiss is pressed behind your ear.

“If you keep staring at the sun, Mesh’la,” he remarks, squeezing you a little. “—you'll go blind.”

You laugh brightly and wiggle around to face him. He smiles and let's his lips brush across your cheeks, nose and forehead, before landing on your own in a tender kiss.

“I suppose I have something better to stare at here,” you tease. The golden hour glow highlights his best features. His hair has begun to gray at the temples, silver strands fading into his thick curls, and his cybernetic eye glitters in the sunlight. His jaw bears a little bit of stubble; a deliberate choice, you assume.

“Oh?” He asks, forehead resting gently upon yours.

“Yeah,” you answer, reaching up to caress his scar. His eyes flutter closed.

“What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours, huh?

You smile. “I was just thinking. About us.” Your head rests against his shoulder as a warm breeze dusts both of you.

He hums deeply in acknowledgment, a kiss being placed to your temple.

“Also known as: a scratch and dent clone falls in love with a smart, caring, drop dead gorgeous woman?”

You laugh lightly and shake your head. “More like, How a man and woman’s love made it through all sorts of trials.”

Wolffe’s face falls a little, but you cup his cheek to turn his gaze toward you.

“And what happened is in the past. We have all the time in the world now, yeah?”

He smiles ever so slightly and holds you close. “Yeah Mesh'la. That sounds perfect.”

And he thinks now that he’s had a taste of love, he can get used to it for the long run.

[memoiich]

Obi wan is the type of Jedi to train from dusk till dawn without stopping, then beg you for a massage.

You are 100% right.

He won’t listen when you tell him to stop but will be begging for a massage but only from you .

fluffy drabble

Wc: 0,7k

You were sitting in the temple's library, engulfed in one of the many scrolls about the jedi of old. The sun had set hours before, leaving you only with the light of the nearby lanterns. The old tales brought you odd comfort as you thought about your lover.

Obi wan had left to train again this morning as he did most mornings. You and him had been together for years, you had met back when he was Qui Gon's padawan and you worked as an apprentice to the temple’s healers. He got hurt badly on his fifth mission, leaving him in your care for the next 4 months. You smiled at the memory of his young and stupid face grinning sheepishly at you when you asked him what had happened that first night.

Being a jedi, obi wan had been hesitant about your relationship in the beginning. He waited for almost 2 years to confess to you and in those 2 years you found yourself spending more and more time with the ancient scrolls. They were filled with stories between jedi and their lovers , some ended with death others ended happily, most were unrequited. After all those years, you still came back to the tales of old.

The liberian gave you a pointed look, signaling your time to go. You walked back to your living quarters which you secretly shared with the jedi. You hoped he would be there already. And to your delight,he was.

Obi wan layed on the couch, with his arms above his head. You slowly approached him not wanting to wake him up if he was sleeping. Despite your best efforts, he arose slowly. He sat up slightly hunched over, still wiping the sleep out of his eyes. He rubbed his hands over his schouders while groaning slightly. You let out a giggle “I warned you this morning” Obi Wan stretched his arms up sighing softly “I needed the practice” he looked at you a bit defeated “ anakin is slowly catching up to me” he said in a low grumble.you chuckled while walking up behind him.

Obi wan turned his head towards you, letting you kiss his forehead. You rubbed his schouders “ I could help you“ you fiddled with his outer robes” you need to take this off of course” he let out a loud laugh “ow how terrible” he said faking despair “better get that over with darling” he purred.

You pulled off his coat as he got up. He pulled his undershirt over his head. You pointed to the couch, ordering him to lay back down. He got positioned on said couch as you sauntered back over.

You started on his shoulders, making him tense beneath you. You started rubbing out the knots he had formed, admiring the strong yet soft muscles under your fingertips.he let out a delighted sigh,making you look over at his handsome face. Maker, he looked ethereal. His blue eyes followed you closely over his shoulder. You ducked out of sight, planting a kiss between his shoulder blades. You moved your hands up to his neck and gently massaged the strained muscles there.

He hummed in delight at the loss of the stress that had gathered.you loved giving him massages, feeling him loosen up beneath you, the slow breaths he took as you helped him. You moved lower to his back, making him groan. You were always careful with his torso since he had quite a few scars there. The marks hugged his figure perfectly, you made sure to give them special attention, definitely your favorite one near his spine from when he gave Anakin his first lightsaber lesson and he threw it at him when he turned his back. You pressed your lips to it, ending your massage.

He spread his arms out above him, stretching out the last of training. Obi wan slowly sat up giving you space to sit behind him. He covered your hands with his own “You don’t know how much you mean to me” he said softly “how blessed i am to know you-“ he turned to look you in the eyes “-to stay by your side is all i long for”, you flushed pink. Obi wan leaned in kissing you passionately.

I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for the request xxx

Request are open <3

{masterlist}

[azures-bazar]

Oi there ! I love your RDR2 one shots (mostly the ones where Arthur's being soft af) !!

Could you make one of Arthur being sick and being taken care of by female!reader ??

Thanks in advance, love your work !

High Fever

Hello there anon, thank you for your request !

First of, I'm sorry it took me more than two weeks :') My job is taking most of my free-time as I kinda overwork (yep). Keeping the job I've got at the moment is a real battle, so writing takes much more time than I expected.

Anyway, I hope you'll still like this one-shot. I'm sorry for the mistakes, it's badly written due to the lack of free time I've got :')

Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader 

Word count : 3.8k 

Short summary : Arthur came back to camp overwhelmingly sick, and you are not leaving him alone !

A/Note : Arthur’s tent has flaps and he’s sharing it with reader ! 

Tags : Arthur is sick, some fluff (as always), soft, taking care of someone ill, chapter 3, summer breeze, small whump aftercare (somehow), flu, vastly inspired by IRL

The sun was shining brightly, the morning weather was already quite warm. It was not a surprise, you had been warned about Lemoyne’s overall hot summer weather, but the climate was very different from the one you used to enjoy while the gang was hiding in the Heartlands. You still loved this weather, especially when you had some time to look at the scenery which was surrounding you. Beautiful tall trees, a lake which appeared to be endless, some islands ahead of you… something about Clemens Point felt magical, if not even a little safe. Who would have guessed the Van der Linde gang was hiding here ? 

What made you feel even more safe was the tent you were sharing with Arthur, for a variety of reasons. You had been brought in the gang by Dutch after escaping the law following a minor bank robbery you had performed alone, somewhere back in 1893. Since the very first day you had spent with the rest of the gang, Arthur had displayed a lot of interest in being around you, from helping you to use a bow to spending time drawing by your side. Your rather friendly relationship slowly turned into a very awkward romance when Arthur gifted you with a large bouquet of wild flowers, dropping a kiss on your lips while watching the sunset from a hill. 

"I… I think I really like you." this single sentence he had told you made you go on an incredible journey of two outlaws being in love 

As of 1899, you and Arthur had been sharing his tent for about a year. You could easily remember him holding your hand while asking Dutch to move your cot to his quarters. Indeed, you had slept in Arthur’s tent on a variety of occasions : on rainy nights, when the weather was too cold, when someone of you was drunk, and, of course, when you wanted to have some fun. It had taken two days for Dutch to finally accept Arthur’s request, knowing that some of your nights would obviously not be as quiet as his… and god knows how right he was !  

You rarely slept on your cot, mostly resting into Arthur’s embrace, getting up with the morning light and birds chirping around you. However, that day, instead of peacefully waking up with the light from the outside passing between your tent’s flaps, Arthur’s continuous sneezes and soft coughs had dragged you out of your well-deserved rest. Being on guard duty all day long doing mostly nothing was boring… and somewhat tiring. You had chosen to sleep on your cot that night as you went to rest earlier than the rest of the gang. 

"Ugh…" you sighed, shifting from your cot 

You stretched and made your way to Arthur’s bed, triggered by the sound of his sneezes. You could remember him coming back one day ago from a journey to Ambarino which had lasted for two days. Since Arthur came back, you could easily hear him cough quite often, at any time of the day. The sneezing had started to occur last night, much to your biggest dismay as you just wished to get some sleep. 

"Arthur ?" you whispered 

Arthur’s eyes cracked open as he noticed you were standing nearby. He greeted you with a sweet smile, which caused you to put your frustration aside, melting from the inside as you placed your hand on his forehead. Thankfully enough, Morgan was not feverish. At least… not yet. 

"Did I wake you up ?" Arthur asked, a little confused 

"You’re sick." you sighed 

"No, I ain’t." 

You shook your head, asking Arthur to stand up to prove he was in good shape. He even proceeded putting his clothes on for you not to worry about him, causing you to smirk a little. Whenever you were sick, Arthur was always the one taking care of you. And, right at this moment, as he was getting sick himself, he proudly hid his illness behind his usual smile and rough voice. 

"See ? I’m fine." he said, leaving the tent

Arthur quickly headed out to chop some wood while you looked at him with a rather concerned expression. As far as you could recall, whenever Arthur was sick, there were at least two phases. The ‘No I’m fine’ phase, which was the one he usually displayed whenever he was starting to feel a little sick. He would still keep doing chores, going hunting and not even care about his health, overworking himself to please Dutch anytime he needed. 

The second one was the ‘I’m dying’ phase, which, as its name suggested, was triggered whenever Arthur felt horribly sick. During this phase, Arthur usually behaved like a man on his deathbed, begging for the mercy of whatever was above, crying like a child until the symptoms would slowly fade away. Indeed, you did not want Arthur to get to this phase because not only it was a pitiful sight for such man, but also because you already had some hard time acting serious when he was behaving like a young boy. 

For a few hours, you watched Arthur take care of some chores while minding your own business, up until Morgan stopped walking around and started coughing heavily. You watched him cough, nearly falling on his knees as you quickly carried a sack of grain to Pearson’s wagon. You quickly walked towards Arthur, who was slowly trying to breathe normally. 

"You okay ?" you asked

"I’m fine." Arthur answered in a rather weak way

"No you ain’t."

You moved closer to Arthur, raising your hand to touch his forehead, causing him to chuckle. Of course, Morgan was a tough man who did not need anyone’s help, and seeing you wanting to take care of him made him feel very amused by the situation. Yes, he was sick… and there was no need to hide it from you. 

"My god, your forehead is burning !" you gasped. "Get back to your tent !"

"Y/N, m’fine…-"

"To your tent, right now !" 

Arthur noticed how persuasive you were, causing him to chuckle, raising his hands in the air as you pushed him towards his tent, quickly informing both Dutch and Hosea, who were having a talk nearby, that their boy was sick was would not do anything today. They both knew Arthur was doing most of the work around camp, he definitely deserved some rest ! Especially being this sick ! 

"Oh, I’ll go make a Ginseng tonic !" Hosea said, quickly heading to his tent

"Are you sure you can handle this grumpy giant cowboy alone, dear Y/N ?" Dutch asked you, glancing at Arthur who was sitting on his cot grumbling something while crossing his arms and legs

"Don’t worry, Dutch." you smiled. "I’ll take care of your son !"

Dutch chuckled, watching you get to your tent before closing its flaps. The single view of Arthur, nearly pouting on his cot, his arms crossed on his chest and his feet drawing circles on the ground made you smile. What a funny sight it was to witness such a brawny man and well known cowboy with a bounty on his head behaving like a grumpy child who was refusing to get some rest ! 

"Take ‘em boots off, Morgan." you said 

"Y/N, I ain’t gonna stay in my tent all day long, the others need me." 

"You’re staying here. The others can take care of some chores for a day, you’re staying in this tent." 

"But I…-"

"I said you’re staying in this tent. Now take your boots and pants off." 

Arthur grumbled and obliged, calmly removing his boots. He loved taking care of you, he absolutely enjoyed having you rest into his embrace, comfort you after some nightmares you had, watch over you whenever you were feeling sick… but was not used being taken care of. He was a grown man who did not even need anyone’s help. Having such a beautiful lady like you watching over him made him feel both awkward and incredibly good, even if he was to proud to say it. He proceeded removing his gun belt and satchel while staring at you with a defiant smile. 

"Wanna see me naked, sweetheart ?" he smirked

"No, just take your pants off." 

You helped Arthur removing his suspenders and pants, leaving him in his union suit. You carefully passing your hands on his shoulders, wiping away some dirt while pushing him on his cot. He did not even dare showing any signs of resistance, laying down his bed with a sigh as his head rested on a pillow which was once yours. 

"M’fine, Y/N, I swear." he sighed 

"You ain’t a good liar with me. I’ll go get some blankets." 

"This is humiliatin’…" 

Arthur’s words made you shiver, causing you to sit beside him. How could he believe being sick was humiliating when probably every single human being could catch a cold ? You placed your hand on his burning head, letting out a soft sigh before looking into his green orbs. 

"It ain’t. You’re sick, and it happens. You’re spending so much time trying to do chores, doing hunting, doing bounties, robbing places… just for us to survive. Now, allow yourself to rest for a bit. You deserve it." 

"But the others…-" 

"The others will be just fine. Close your eyes and get some rest. I’ll come back to check on you." 

Despite not agreeing with you, Arthur closed his eyes as you gently covered him with one of his blankets. You looked at his grumpy face with a little smirk, listening to him grumbling a few words in his three-days beard before leaving the tent to do some chores around camp. What a literal child Arthur was to act like this ! You often wondered how Hosea, Dutch and Ms. Grimshaw had managed to take care of him back when he was a young boy, especially knowing that Arthur’s behaviour once used to be similar to Sean’s. 

You came back to check on Arthur after taking care of some chores, being given Hosea’s tonic. His eyes cracked open as soon as you walked back inside the tent. He rose on his elbows, getting you with one of his absolutely amazing smiles. You would have killed for this smile, definitely. They were so genuine and worth it… and Arthur was the most handsome man you knew ! 

"Did you get some sleep ?" you smiled 

"No." Arthur shook his head. "I ain’t gonna sleep in the middle of the day like that. I ain’t lil' Jack to take naps. "

"Arthur… You take care of me when I’m sick, lemme do the same for you. I brought you Hosea’s tonic." 

You walked closer to Arthur’s cot and sat next to him, pouring a very strange coloured liquid into his tint cup. Hosea had told you about its ingredients, but you did not expect such a yellowish tone… and awful smell. At first sight, it really looked like some snake oil, and the terrible scent coming from it did not help at all. 

"I ain’t drinkin’ that." Arthur chuckled. "It smells like cat piss."

"Arthur, please." you smiled back 

"Ugh… fine." 

Arthur swallowed the tonic in one go, coughing as he quite disliked its taste, nearly throwing up as he felt this strange liquid go down his throat. He knew that taste and that smell, it wasn’t the first time Hosea was making him a tonic. He had spent a vast majority of his teenage years drinking a variety of them, getting sick quite often. He could remember most of them, but the Ginseng tonic was probably the one he had drank the most throughout his time in the gang. 

"My god, it tastes terrible !" Arthur gagged 

"Yep, but Hosea says it’s the best for you !" 

According to Hosea, this tonic would put Arthur back on his feet in no time. You trusted Matthews’ expertise, having watched him carefully mix the Ginseng’s petals with some water and some gold berries you had brought him a day earlier. Just like Arthur, you also had the opportunity to drink some of these tonics throughout your life with the gang… enough for you to feel a vast amount of compassion as you watched Arthur struggle with his drink. 

"Now get some rest, Arthur." you smiled. "I’ll be back in a few hours, I just need to help Pearson cook the stew and finishing sewing my dress." 

Arthur did not respond, only watching you going out of the tent, sighing as he closed his eyes once more. He could not escape ! Arthur started dozing off after a few seconds, listening to Dutch and Molly arguing nearby his tent, to Sean’s terrible jokes by the crate of whiskey, and to an attempt of Bill to bond with Kieran over a bottle of beer. Something made him feel relaxed, the way you took care of him made him feel relaxed. He secretly adored it, despite not mentioning it. 

You came back a few hours later, as promised, having sent Dutch, Hosea and Tilly to look for Arthur every thirty minutes or so to make sure he was still fine. As you came back inside the tent, you found Arthur groaning, sweating so heavily that your heart nearly stopped at the sight of this poor man in such pain. 

"Oh my god, Arthur… how do you feel ? What hurts ?" 

You helped Arthur up, softly taking off his sweat-soaked union suit. You wanted to make it quick, and Arthur’s wobbly arms did not help at all. He groaned a little when you tried taking his arms out of his shirt, feeling an intense pain coming from the back of his head. You managed to take out some old cloth and plunged it into a bucket of cold water to wipe away some of Arthur’s sweat. 

"Head hurts…" he groaned 

"I know, sweetheart. I’ll just clean you up a little and you’ll lie down." 

"Sweetheart". You called him sweetheart, a word you never used to qualify him… Arthur was quick to give you some nicknames, from variations of your own name to pet names you adored. Your heart stopped beating for a second as you awaited Arthur’s response, being greeted with his sweet smile and painful sight, slowly passing the cloth on his shoulders.

"Lemme do this m’self, dove…" 

"Arthur, it’s not…-"

Arthur tried getting the wet cloth from your hands but ended up loosing balance. You quickly caught him before he would hit the ground, sighing as he whined, burying his head in the crook of your neck while his arms remained wobbly. How humiliating it was for him to be at your whole mercy ! Such a tough outlaw, skilled gunslinger… barely able to move his arms without whining like a sick child ! He was not fully himself, but somewhat happy to be taken care of.

"M’sorry…" he whispered. "I hate being like that…"

"It’s okay. Stay still for me, alright ?" 

"Sure…"

You were worried about Arthur’s health, but somewhat amused by what you were seeing at the moment. What a child… you knew that all men from the gang, no matter how tough they were, often behaved as if they were on their deathbeds whenever they were sick. A simple headache had led Bill to pretend he was dying, Dutch had once remained in his bed for three days because of a nasal congestion. You knew that Arthur was just a little sick at this moment, believing he was about to die too. 

"There you go." you said, passing the wet cloth over Arthur’s torso. "Let’s put on a new union suit." 

"I’m dying…" 

"No, you ain’t." 

Arthur used the last bits of energy he had to shrug. You quickly lifted his heavy legs up to get the bottom of his union suit off, not even bothering about him being naked. You had seen him undressed quite often, this wasn’t much of a discovery ! You wanted him dressed into something, that poor man was sick ! You carefully slipped a red union suit on him, buttoning it while Arthur looked at you. His eyes were half-closed, a soft smile was blooming on his face. You could easily tell he was not fully himself, just by the look he was giving you. 

"Are you hungry ?" you asked him, taking his face between your hands 

"I’d eat you raw, honeybee…" Arthur responded, his eyes twitching. "Maybe with some cranberry sauce, along with potatoes…" 

"Well… seems like you ain’t. Lay down." 

Arthur’s words made you blush, but his health was far too much important at the moment. He laid down, moaning as soon as his head touched his pillow. As you were on your way out of his tent to get him some stew, Arthur whined, causing you to shiver and turn back. He was looking at you, giving you a sick puppy glance, summoning enough energy to spread his arms wide for you to embrace him. 

"Don’ go…" he whimpered 

"Oh, Arthur…" 

You slowly walked back to his cot, your heart was fluttering as you could not even resist these puppy eyes. Arthur, even being so sick and probably a little needy, was still the charming man you adored. The most handsome man you had ever met, the sweetest gentleman gifting you with flowers, gems, antique alcohol bottles… who would have thought such an angelic-looking man was an outlaw and had blood on his hands ?

"Feeling needy, huh ?" you smiled, passing your hand through his sweaty hair 

"I’m gonna die…" Arthur whined. "Don’ leave me… I’m so sick…"

"I’ll be right back, sweetheart. I’ll come back with another tonic, wait for me." 

Arthur whined as he nuzzled his head into his pillow, allowing you to grab one of his blankets and cover him up to the shoulders. You passed your hand through his dirty blonde hair, causing him to smile a little before watching you leaving the tent. You nearly felt bad for leaving him ! You grabbed a bowl of stew and quickly ate it as Hosea gave you another of his tonics. 

"He must drink it before midnight, it will help him rest." Matthews told you as he gave you the bottle

"Alright. I’ll make sure of it." 

Hosea smiled and patted your shoulder before heading towards his bed made of a variety of different blankets, kissing the picture he had of his wife, laying down while keeping his eyes open for a moment. He watched you walk towards your tent, absolutely delighted to know his boy was having you around him. What a treasure you were for the gang, indeed ! So sweet, adorable and caring ! You headed back to your tent with Hosea’s tonic and were met with a rather pleasant sight.

"Oh." you smiled 

Arthur was asleep laying on his left side, facing the sunset. You slowly walked in to get a better glimpse of him, not even wanting to wake him up. He looked so peaceful, so sweet ! Who would have thought this good-looking man, having beautiful green orbs hidden under his eyelids and long eyelashes which could trigger anyone’s jealousy, had blood on his hands ? At first sight, nobody could have guessed Arthur was an outlaw rather than being just a really handsome man. What a shame that the only one not accepting his beauty was himself… 

While you were away from your tent, Arthur had battled to keep himself awake. He had pushed his pillow on the ground, not finding it comfortable enough, dragging the blanket over his body, then kicking it away, then dragging it back again. He was sleeping so peacefully that you did not even want to move the blanket a little over him. You smiled as you calmly sat by him, checking his temperature by kissing his forehead. 

"The fever’s gone…" you whispered

"Y/N ?…" Arthur mumbled

"No, no, sweetheart… go back to sleep…"

The soft sound of Arthur’s whine could be heard as his eyes cracked open. You expected to be met with a rather grumpy sight for interrupting his sleep but, as soon as his vision got clear enough to see what was around, Morgan smiled to you. Your sole presence had triggered a sudden happiness as he calmly took your hand and held it close to his chest. He liked it, he liked the way you took care of him. It felt good to have such an angel like you around, stitching up his wounds, giving him medicine, watching over him as he slept… he felt safe. 

You were melting, you felt butterflies fly in your belly as you kept analysing Arthur’s beautiful features and lovely smile. His usually green eyes had turned blue to the tears of pain he might have shed earlier, and due to this flu he had caught. What a handsome man he was ! Even with his high fever, dark rings under his eyes, sweaty hair… you could have given anything to prove him how handsome he was. Anything. Taking care of him while he was sick was giving you the perfect opportunity to enjoy his presence a little more, to admire this talented gunslinger and very skilled artist, whose large hands always came up with amazing and refined drawings. 

"Was dreamin’ of you…" he whispered 

"Oh ?" you smiled, gently caressing his hair. "What was I doing ?" 

"You’re wearin’ a white dress and a flower crown… and you’re singin’… that you loved me and all…" 

"Oh, did you like it ?" 

"Of course, ‘cause I love you…" 

This vast amount of butterflies could not stop flying in your belly, just this single sentence made your heart flutter. Arthur never truly voiced all his love for you, but being so tired and ill… his ‘introvert-filter’ was quick to disappear, as well as his overall grumpy behaviour. Arthur slowly rolled aside, patting his cot for you to lay down next to him. And, with such an adorable puppy glance, how could you refuse ? 

"Wait up, Arthur." you smiled. "Lemme just get my clothes off." 

It took you just a few seconds to take your shirt and skirt off, quickly laying next to Arthur who nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist while letting out a long and very relaxed moan. You chuckled as you felt his beard tickle you clavicles, his heavy breath getting slower and slower as he slowly dozed off in your embrace. 

"I love you too, silly man." you smiled, kissing his forehead  

Arthur moaned in return, making you smile as his grip on your waist tightened, passing your hands in his hair, caressing his skin, dropping a few subtle kisses on his forehead. What a man you had here, what a peculiar feller ! A literal bear whenever he was doing fine, but a young child whenever he was sick. You did not mind, you loved him for what he was, you loved him entirely. And you would nurse him back to health, whatever the price was. You did not care about getting sick yourself, Arthur’s recovery mattered the most at the moment. 

Nothing else mattered. 

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

I heard you, i’m sending you a fluffy request! 🤣 #5 maybe with like a y/n on her period and a sweet/fluffy/comforting Harry 🤗

This couldn't have worked out better because I just started my period 🥲 thank you for listening 🫶

Your periods were never particularly easy like some people's were, you had always cramped and bled what felt like way too much on the first couple days, but you were used to it so you managed pretty well. But this time around this was not the case.

You woke up in the middle of the night and were suddenly assaulted with the worst cramps you had ever had in your life. You immediately got out of bed because you knew what would come next. As soon as you stood upright you felt the blood start to trickle out of you so you bolted to the bathroom, thankful that you had caught this before you soiled your bedding. Once you got that taken care of you took a painkiller and laid in bed willing the pill to kick in so that you could get back to sleep.

********

"Rise and shine, love of mine!" Harry burst into your room with so much energy it startled you awake and as you felt him sit beside you, you peeked up at him.

"Hi, what're you doing here?" you asked him groggily.

"We're going to Runyon with Glenne, Jeff, and Cam remember?" he asked you and you frowned.

"Oh...I completely for got." you groaned.

"S'alright, i'm only here this early because you said you didn't want to go if it got too hot."

"I did say that." you recalled and the sighed, "Baby, I'm sorry but I'm gonna flake on your guys, I got my period last night and I've hardly got any sleep from these cramps I've had." you explained and he pouted.

"I'm sorry, petal. I can flake on them too. Stay and look after you?" he offered. Of course you wanted him to stay, but he shouldn't have to bail on his friends.

"You can hike and then come back f'you want? I'm just gonna sleep." you assured him. After all, it was only a quarter to 7 now.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, baby. Go have fun and then come back." you assured him and he smiled at you. He loved how you always wanted him to spend time with his friends, it meant a lot to him that you were mindful of their time too, but you looked miserable right now. He could see the discomfort all over your face and then you winced and curled up for a few seconds before you sat up, "Move!" you said and he stood to give you space and you rushed into your ensuite and closed the door as best as you could before you just started to throw up.

There was nothing in your stomach to throw up, just bile, which was always the worst. But that cramp had hurt so badly it made you nauseous. You groaned before you wiped off your mouth and decided to just freshen up while you were in there. When you came back out with a fresh face and fresh breath Harry glanced up at you from his spot on the bed.

"I cancelled on them, baby. Look at you! I can't leave you like this." he shook his head and you smiled at his kindness, "Want me to make you some tea for your tummy?" he asked and you nodded as you stopped before him and dragged your fingers into his hair. You felt him kiss your sternum and you smiled, "Alright, get back into bed. I'll be back soon." he said and you let him go before crawling back under your covers.

You dozed off until Harry had returned with your tea. You were too lazy to sit up and you were sure it was boiling hot so you'd need to wait anyway so you made no move to get out from under your covers. He set the mug down on your nightstand before stripping off his shirt and going to the other side of the bed. You shivered when he lifted the covers and he smiled.

"You're such a drama queen, s'not that cold." he teased you and you smiled as you felt him come up behind you. He knew that you typically hated him touching anywhere near your stomach when you were on your period, but you needed the warmth now, "Want my hand over your tummy? Look, I'm really warm." he said as he put his hand on your leg.

"Mmhmm." you agreed and he smiled. You repositioned him a bit before relaxing in his hold, "Do you know why it's so bad this time?" he asked and you huffed.

"I'm wondering if it's because we stopped using condoms?" you said and he pouted, "I feel like my body knows and she's punishing me for not getting pregnant." you theorized and he chuckled, "Don't laugh after you asked me why!" you scolded with a chuckle.

"M'not making fun. S'just funny." he assured before kissing your shoulder tenderly, "But you're probably right. I noticed that after we stopped I started to come more." he shared and you giggled, "S'like they're throwing not so subtle hints our way." he chuckled and you did as well.

"Silly bodies..." you said softly and he hummed in agreement. You shifted a bit and he just ended up hugging his arms around you, making sure to have one of his arms against you for warmth. "I love you. Thank you for being so sweet to me." you whispered.

"I love you too, baby. Just want to make you feel looked after, y'always do it for me. S'about time I can return the gesture, y'deserve it." he said softly before kissing your head and letting you rest.

READ MORE PICTURE PROMPT BLURBS HERE

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 [𝐁𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐇]

PAIRINGS —  Bobby Nash x GN!Reader

SUMMARY — complicating their situationship

WARNINGS — sickness (COVID), fever, swearing, mentions of sex

NOTE —This one’s been in the drafts for a while so I’m very happy it’s getting the chance to see the light of day also sorry it took me a few days to post I hated the ending so I rewrote it lmao

For most people the global pandemic meant working from home and staying away from everyone and everything, trying not to get sick. But as a frontline worker and a first responder, that was never really an option for you. For you and the rest of the 118 it meant rapid tests every morning, face coverings at all times, and setting an example for everyone else. 

To top off the complicated situation, over the time of your increased closed quarters at work you had developed somewhat of a situationship with your boss. The rest of your colleagues were unaware (thankfully) and you hoped through everything that would be the one part of your life that remained casual and uncomplicated. And it was until one fateful morning in May 2020. 

“Here’s your test,” you passed a box over to Bobby while he walked up to the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in hand. 

“And here’s your tea.” 

“Honestly, I’m not even convinced these work,” you noted while pouring the buffer fluid into the small tube. “I have never seen a positive COVID test, how are we supposed to know if these are the real deal?” 

“Hopefully we’ll never have to see a positive one,” Bobby said.

You drank your tea and coffee and prepared something for breakfast while waiting for the time to be up so you could make sure you weren’t sick before you went in for work. 

“Uh, Bobby…” 

You looked down at your test while Bobby came and glanced over your shoulder. You looked back at each other with wide eyes. 

“You can’t go to work,” he pointed to you when the realization dawned on him. “Wait, I can’t go to work. What are we going to tell them?” 

“It’s fine we’ll just call separately, I’ll tell them I got sick you say that you went out to get groceries and got exposed, no big deal.” 

“And you can’t go out so I guess you’ll just isolate here?” 

“Oh God, this is going to end badly, I can feel it,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and shook your head. “One step at a time. I’m gonna go call the team.” 

“At least we know the test works,” Bobby called as you walked to his bedroom and you rolled your eyes. 

You both tried your best to deal with the team, Bobby having a bit of a harder time than you considering you called in first to tell everyone you were sick. 

“I think I managed to convince everyone to stay away for a bit,” you said while putting on a mask, Bobby motioned for you to take the package with you and you nodded, thinking it was probably for the best considering he wasn’t sick…yet. 

“Hopefully it’ll be a quick bug, right? Then things can go back to normal.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “And are you sure you’re okay with me staying here? I don’t really wanna be a burden and take over your room or anything.” 

“No it’s fine,” he insisted. “You’re already here and I have to be isolated anyways. Plus, it’s always nicer to have someone around when you’re sick right?” 

You just gave him a small smile with your eyes before retreating into his bedroom and closing the door behind you. 

As soon as it was shut, you could hear Bobby begin to clean up, washing the dishes and disinfecting everything with bleach and Lysol to avoid getting sick. You couldn’t blame him, it was an odd situation, maybe even a little awkward, you’d only ever come over after work and most days you left right after breakfast. 

It had started as a casual companionship that just spiralled into something where everything was unsaid. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, only then realizing the clothes you had were not the best for being sick in bed. 

“Hey Bobby,” you called from your room. “Can I borrow a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt or something?”

“Yeah, that should be okay, take whatever you’ll need and when you’re better we’ll just do a load of laundry.” 

“Thank you,” you sighed. “And Bobby?” 

“Mhmm?” 

“I’m sorry…that you got caught up in all this and have to deal with me now…I just-,” 

“Don’t mention it, like I said, no big deal.” 

“Right,” you nodded to yourself. “No big deal.” 

—

Two Days Later…

“Uh Bobby!” you called, your voice sounding congested and followed by a loud bronchial cough. “We’ve got a problem.” 

“What’s the problem?” he asked. 

“Buck wants to bring me food.” 

“And?”

“I’m not at my house, what the hell am I supposed to tell him?” you groaned and flopped back onto the bed. 

“Just call and explain that he shouldn’t risk it and you’ve already made something for lunch and dinner.” 

That part wasn’t a lie, with all the spare time in his hands Bobby was cooking up a storm and you had the finest meals every day, but ate them in an awkward silence across from each other, a door between you. 

“Alright, but if I can’t stop him then we’re going to have to deal with the consequences.” 

Bobby didn’t respond so you picked up your phone and called Buck’s cell waiting for him to pick up. 

“Hey, how’s Miss Rona?” he chuckled when he picked up on the other line. 

“Not funny, Buckley,” you grumbled. “Look, even you can hear it, I sound terrible. I don't want you to risk it, Buck, don’t bring me food.” 

“Come on, I’ll be safe! I’ll drop it off at your door and then we can talk on the phone while you eat so you aren’t alone.” 

“No Buck,” you sighed. “I already made food for lunch and dinner, just stay as far away from my apartment as you can ok?” 

“Ok, if you insist, but don’t come crying to me for McDonalds when you get sick of chicken noodle soup.” he chuckled. 

“I won’t don’t worry,” you coughed. “Jesus, I gotta take some more Buckley’s, and please send my regards to whichever family member of yours made such a gag worthy cough syrup,” 

“Not related, but it tastes awful and it works.” 

“I hate how much I love that slogan,” you laughed a little, but it only sent you back into a coughing fit. “Alright, really I gotta go, tell everyone I say hi and that I’m not dead yet, okay?” 

“Will do. You take care of yourself.” 

“Thanks Buck, bye,” you hung up the phone and did exactly what you said you would. Poured yourself some cough syrup and gagged as soon as it went down your throat. 

“You okay in there?” Bobby knocked on the door. 

“Yeah, just the cough syrup,” you moaned a little and rubbed your head. 

“You sure everything’s okay?” he pressed. 

“I just…” you hesitated. “I feel like shit.” 

“On a scale of 1-10 how shitty?” he asked. 

You were silent for a moment before shrugging your shoulders and saying seven. 

“I don’t think there’s much you can do, I have a whole army of medication here, I just have to be careful and rest.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed, but his tone made him seem unconvinced. 

You tried to lay down and get some rest and what felt like minutes later you discovered had actually been closer to sixteen hours and it was the next day and you felt ten times worse than the day before. 

You looked down at the sheets that were soaked with sweat and when you tried to move your whole body ached like you had just run a 40K with zero training. 

You tried to speak, but your throat was dry so you reached for the water first, chugging it before knocking on the wall, hoping Bobby was awake. 

“Everything alright in there?” you could hear him get up and ask. 

“I-I think I have a fever,” you said wearily. “Can…C-Could you come check?” 

“Yeah of course, just let me grab a thermometer and a mask.” 

Bobby was back a few moments later and opened the door to quite the sight. 

“Bet you can’t even believe you slept with me huh,” you tried to tease to lighten the situation, but you could see Bobby had become so zeroed in on your state that it was no use. 

He quickly felt the back of your forehead with his hand before confirming his suspicions with the thermometer. 

“Wow, you’re burning up,” his hand cradled your cheek for a moment, feeling the heat radiate off your sticky and sweaty skin. “Let me go get you some Tylenol okay, and maybe an ice pack too. I’m not leaving you here by yourself.” 

“But what about-,” 

“I need to make sure you don’t take a turn for the worse. I don’t want to have to take you to the hospital,” 

You nodded and quieted yourself, watching as he went to grab you some more medication and that ice pack. 

The cold touch felt amazing against your skin, but it wasn’t long before you were shivering from the fever and wanted to huddle underneath the blankets. 

“Y-You know, I haven’t b-been sick since before I w-was in the department,” you told Bobby. “S-Still sucks a-as bad as I remember.” 

“I can imagine,” he brushed some hair out of your eyes. “If you can, you should try and get some sleep, it might make things a little better.” 

You wanted to listen to his advice, but as much as you tried you could not fall asleep. Your fever continued to get worse, but not bad enough to merit taking you to the ER. 

All the while, Bobby only left your side to bring you more food or something to drink. You wished he would stay far away from you, it was better he didn’t get what you had, but he seemed adamant on staying. 

It was things like this that made it hard for you to separate what you had from a real relationship, which it wasn’t. 

It was just an arrangement where you would meet from time to time and sleep together. 

Sometimes you just wished you could be out with it, ask him out on a real date and go out for dinner because if you were being honest, a couple weeks into whatever it was you were doing, you had already realized you wanted more, but as usual you were too shy to speak up about it. 

“Bobby, c-c-,” you were cut off by another coughing fit, at least you were wearing a mask, it was the least you could do to assure he didn’t get sick. “Sorry, can you pass me one of the cough drops?” 

“Of course, but maybe you should eat a bit more first,” he suggested. “Let me help you sit up.” 

He wrapped an arm around your back and placed you into a seated position before grabbing the bowl of soup for you. 

“Bobby, I think I’m still well enough to feed myself,” you chuckled. 

“It’s not everyday you get pampered, just eat the soup,” he encouraged and you didn’t have the energy to give in. 

You ate about half the bowl before you got full (in your defence it was a pretty big bowl) and Bobby passed you the cough drop to help continue to soothe your throat as the soup had done. 

“Hey, since I’ve already been with you in here, why don’t you come out to the living room and watch some TV with me. It’ll be a nice break from sleeping, trust me.”

“Sure, why not,” you pushed yourself up from the bed and with a little help from Bobby, walked to the living room and took a seat on the couch. 

You both agreed on some random TV show you both hadn’t seen, but by episode three you were knocked out cold. 

Bobby left you like that for a while, thinking it would be best to let you get as much rest as you could, but when you started to toss and turn and mumble things under your breath he had a feeling your fever was coming back and getting even worse. 

“Hey, I think we should get you back in the bedroom where the Tylenol is,” he gently shook you awake, but the fever was making you a little delirious. 

“Will you stay with me?” you mumbled. “Please?” 

“Sure if that’s what you want,” he nodded, helping you up and letting you lean on him while you walked back to the room. 

“Bobby,” you said groggily as you sat down on the bed. “Why aren’t we dating?” 

Bobby certainly wasn’t expecting that kind of question to come from you, but you had a fever, you were barely controlling the temperature of your body, how could you control what you said. 

“Well, I think when whatever this is started we didn’t really think about it…did we.”

You sighed and shook your head. 

“I just think we’d make a good couple,” you said shyly. “Cause I like you, like really like you, and when you do stuff like give me soup and sit with me when I feel like seven shits out of ten shits, it’s just hard.” 

While listening to you, Bobby had opened up the Tylenol and placed two in his hand which he was now handing to you with a glass of water. 

“I know,” he responded. “We can talk about it more when you’re better, how’s that?” 

You agreed and took the medication after which he helped you lay down on the bed. He glanced at you for a moment before lowering his mask and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“If it makes it any better, I was already yours from the start.” 

He placed his mask back over his mouth and nose before sitting next to you, his back against the headrest. 

You reached for his hand and he took it, holding it thinking if he squeezed too tight he might break you. 

He really hoped you would get better soon. 

—

Bobby didn’t want to bring up what you had said when you were feverish, fearful that you had said it while hazy from the sickness. He didn’t want to put any pressure on you to have a discussion while you were still recovering, so he thought unless you brought it up he’d wait for you to test negative. 

In the meantime over the next few days as you slowly came out of the slump of fevers and your cough died down, you fell into an easy rhythm of things together. It was simple things, like FaceTiming while eating meals or chatting across from the door, but it felt safe and familiar, like you’d been doing it forever. 

“Time for your test,” Bobby said, coming into the room with a mask and handing you the rapid test. It was just over a week and a half of being sick and even then you’d have to wait at least another week minimum to go back to work. Bobby had been planning on doing the same either way since he was constantly exposed to you. “I already took mine in the kitchen, I'm still negative.”

“Thank goodness. I'm kind of surprised though, we’ve been cautious but not like lock me in the room cautious,” you said. “How did you not get sick?”

“Just the Nash immune system,” he shrugged. “Let me know what the verdict is.”

You nodded your head and took off your mask once he left and began the process of testing yourself. 

On cue, you sneezed when swabbing your nose and Bobby chuckled like he always did.

“Is there like a button or something in my nose that just makes me sneeze every single time I put this up there?” you asked and Bobby laughed. “Hey don’t laugh! One time I sneezed before I could pull it out and I think I poked my brain.”

That just made him laugh harder and you couldn’t help but smile as you swirled the buffer fluid and placed three drops on the rapid test. 

After the agonizing fifteen minutes Bobby waited anxiously for the answer, but when you stepped out of the room without a mask and the test in your hands that spoke for you. 

“It’s negative,” you almost sounded disbelieving. “I-Wow it’s actually negative.”

“Maybe you should take one more just to confirm,” Bobby suggested and you agreed, only to have the second test confirm your suspicions. 

“This is great!” you grinned. “We can get this place cleaned up, relax and rest for one more week and then we’re back at it.”

You and Bobby high-fived and started by cleaning up the room you were staying in. A load of laundry hopefully got rid of any lingering sickness from your clothes and the sheets, a wipe down and vacuum took care of the other surfaces. 

Once the sheets were out of the wash, you and Bobby began to put them back on the bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he was going to bring up the conversation he’d promised he’d have with you, but every time there was an opening it didn’t feel right to say anything. 

Instead he decided it would be best to take the next week in isolation in stride and say something when the time felt right, not when you were trapped under the same roof. 

When the day came when you were supposed to head back out to work you could both say with a certainty that you were done with being cooped up in the house and were ready to get down to business. 

Chimney was more than happy to give up his responsibilities as acting fire Captain and as Hen so articulately put it, balance had been restored in the universe. 

“You know it was really weird not having you around,” Buck told you when you sat for lunch together, distances slightly due to the restrictions. 

“Awe so you missed me,” you made a cute squishing motion with your hands and Buck rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah sure, I missed you the same way I miss Maddie for five minutes then she starts hovering and babying me and then I don’t miss her so much anymore.”

“Buck, be nice,” Bobby gave him a warning look. 

“What come on, it's the truth, you’re like my sibling, it’s a compliment,” he insisted. 

“I know it was but the words by themselves really didn’t sound like it,” you chuckled. “Don’t worry Bobby, if he knows what’s good for him he’ll stay on my good side.”

“And who’s on your bad side?” Chimney asked, coming to join you with his food. 

“Currently just Eddie because he used the last of my sweetened condensed milk.” 

“You didn’t label the milk, how was I supposed to know it wasn’t for grabs?”

“Eddie, you know I use it in my coffee when I need an extra kick in the morning, don’t make excuses,” you playfully rolled your eyes. “Anyways, Buck’s always on thin ice, you and Hen are safe,” you noted. 

“What about Bobby?” Hen asked. 

“Hmm,” you sent Bobby a knowing look and he tried to hide the smile that came across his face, after he spent two weeks taking care of you he was on a side the others didn’t even know existed. “Yeah, he’s a few steps above you and Chim,” you said truthfully. “No offence, but you guys don’t make me desserts every week.”

“Fair enough,” Hen agreed. 

After you all finished eating you and Bobby cleared up the dishes so Eddie and Hen could wash them and he quietly asked if you could meet him in his office to talk. 

You nodded your head, unaware of what was to come of it, but when the door closed behind you and you saw Bobby sitting at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed you knew something was up. 

“Is it really just because of the desserts?” he asked. 

“I’m sorry what?”

“Why I’m a few steps above Hen and Chim,” he clarified. 

“I mean yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Bobby, what are you trying to get at?”

He sighed and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. 

“When you were sick,” he started. “Like very feverish, to the point I was almost going to bring you to the hospital, you said something to me. I promised we’d talk about it when you were better, it's just I could never seem to find a good time.” 

“What did I say?” you asked, unable to remember this conversation. 

“Something along the lines of why aren’t we dating. Actually dating, not just sleeping with each other every week.”

“I-I said that?” you frowned and he nodded, but he shifted slightly again, closing himself off to you and you tried to amend what you had said to make sure it didn’t sound like you hadn’t meant it. “I mean I just… I can’t remember.”

He nodded, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, um…what would you have said?” you asked. “If I asked you that now.”

He stayed silent before he eventually shrugged his shoulders, “Honestly, I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just think that if things go on they’re going to get more complicated. I think we should know where we stand.”

“And where do you stand, Bobby?” you asked, coming closer. “Am I on your good side? Or your bad side?”

You reached out your hand to take his and after running his thumb across your knuckles and giving your hand a light squeeze he said,

“You’ve always been on my good side,” he smiled. “And I know I’m a bit rusty, but I’d like to take you out on a date. If that’s something you’re up for.”

“Yeah, I think I’d be up for that,” you agreed and closed the gap between you even more, resting a hand on Bobby’s cheek. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for taking care of me.”

“It’s okay, good practice in case you ever get sick again,” he chuckled. 

“I’m glad to know you’d be willing to take care of me again,” you smiled, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I hope that helps a little with the thank you.”

“Maybe just one more,” he said before meeting your lips again just as the door opened and Buck said, 

“Hey Cap, I was just- WOAH,” he exclaimed. “You two?! I-How? Why?! What?!”

You and Bobby quickly pushed yourselves apart as Buck stared at you wide eyed while he was joined by his coworkers. 

Bobby’s face was very red and you couldn’t look up from your feet. 

“What happened?” Eddie asked once he ran into the room. 

“They were kissing,” Buck said, like he couldn’t understand how that would ever be a possibility. You supposed in Buck’s eyes you were both perpetually single forever. 

“What?” Hen asked with a chuckle. “When did this happen?” 

“Um a couple months back,” Bobby said. “Do we really need to talk about this?”

“Yes, we really do,” Chimney nodded. 

“You guys,” you looked up and saw they wouldn’t let go so you looked at Bobby to tell him you’d take the hit. “Look, this started a little while after everything got shut down. We both live alone and  it was hard not being able to see people so since we were in the same bubble we just…started to casually see each other,” you settled on. 

“And it’s still casual?” Buck asked. 

You pressed your lips in a thin line and Bobby shook his head. 

“No, I think I’d say it’s getting serious.”

“It’s about damn time,” Hen grinned. “I have been rooting for you two ever since you got stuck in that elevator together.”

“Really?” you chuckled. 

“Yeah, and plus now Chimney owes me five bucks.”

“Deals a deal,” Chimney groaned and placed the bill in his friend’s hand. 

“So when you got sick?” Eddie asked. 

“I was at Bobby’s, that’s why we both couldn’t come in and why you couldn't drop food off for me,” you explained. 

“Hey, why don’t we leave these two lovebirds alone,” Hen suggested. “I think you interrupted something, Buck.”

She dragged the team out of Bobby’s office and closed the door only for you and Bobby to look at each other and laugh. 

“At least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

“Yeah, but sneaking around was kind of fun,” you admitted. “But I’m glad they know. It just makes it more real.”

You held his hand and he gave it a squeeze. 

“I should thank your fever,” he said. “I don’t think I would have ever had the courage to bring this up if it wasn’t for that.”

“Who would have thought, a small positive in a global pandemic,” you chuckled and leaned into his side. And as odd as it was to say, you were both thankful for the isolation.

[lemonlamblaura]

My Husband is the God of Pestilence - chapter 14

This big battle between Kallamar and Carcharias has begun! And Lilybell receives a visit from Trenaty...

If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a like or a comment! Every little bit helps! 🩷

Kallamar's temple was a sea of chaos as Saleos's guards and Shamura's soldiers attempted to get the followers in the dungeon. Many of them were afraid of the soldiers and refused to go with them unless a guard assured them they were trustworthy. The bodies of Carcharias's men were hastily thrown in a closet and the blood badly mopped up beforehand, and seeing the bloodstains on the dungeon floor did not alleviate the followers fears.

The first place Lilybell ran to was the women's quarters. A part of her still hoped to see Trenaty at her bed, but it was empty. The women there were being escorted out by the soldiers, all except for Anna and her mother, Merryn. They were sitting on Anna's bed, the girl leaning against her mother while a soldier tried to convince them to go with him.

"We have to go in our own time," Merryn said quietly, rubbing her daughter's back. "Our Anna doesn't understand what we're saying and she needs to go at her own pace."

"The army will be here at any moment," said the man. "It's best you hurry."

Lilybell came over and tapped him on the shoulder, his armor making a tinking noise. "Sir, I can help these ladies so you can move on."

He nodded appropriately and went away. Merryn smiled at Lilybell greatfully. "Thank you. Anna is getting tense with everything going on. She may not understand our speech but she can tell the others are scared." She tilted her head at the lamb with concern. "Are you alright, sweetie?"

"Kallamar left to fight Carcharias," said Lilybell pensively.

"The soldier said so," said Merryn with a reassuring expression. "We must have faith in Lord Kallamar. He is strong, and Lord Shamura is with him. I'm not afraid."

"No?"

Merryn smiled gently. "Things will work out, no matter what happens tonight. Taking care of my girl has taught me to be present, and not be scared of the future." She turned to Anna and kissed her forehead. "Come on, now. We have to go."

Anna didn't look ready, her face a blank slate. She didn't always show emotions like other people did. But she could be manipulated, just like anyone. "Anna, you can play with my hair while we walk to the dungeon, okay?" Lilybell said, turning and throwing her hair back for Anna to see. If there was one thing the girl liked, it was playing with Lilybell's hair. She took the bait, and they made it to the main hall with no issue. "Wow, you're a natural!" Lilybell said as they walked. "I'll tell you what, you can be my hairdresser from now on, how's that?"

The two entered the main hall, Merryn mouthing the words, "thank you" to Lilybell as she waved goodbye. Then she made her way over to Saleos, who was watching soldiers bar the main entrance.

"Did you find everyone?" He asked.

Shs shrugged. "The soldiers are doing more than me, honestly."

"Okay. You better get in there, Lord Kallamar will never forgive me if I let anything happen to you."

Just before she entered the hall, a thought crossed her mind. Her ruby was still in her bedroom. If the temple really was attacked and something happened to it...

"Saleos, I have to run to my bedroom. It's important. I won't be long, I promise!"

Before he could reply she had taken off again, not wanting to waste time. The corridors were empty now, the soldiers concentrating on the main entrance. She hated how quiet it was. When she reached her room she threw open the door, fully expecting it to be empty. To her surprise, Trenaty was standing beside her bed, a few dresses folded over her arms, ready to be put away in a shabby old backpack sitting on the bedsheets.

For a second, Lilybell was speechless. "Trenaty!" She gasped.

The starfish was frowning, and she shoved the dresses in the backpack carelessly. "I'm glad you're here. Pack your things. We're leaving."

*

One time, when Kallamar was young, he asked his mother how powerful Carcharias was. She told him stories about how he alone had leveled mountains and parted seas, struck down entire armies singlehandedly, and made other gods tremble at the mere thought of him.

What would she think now if she knew her own son was facing against him?

Well, technically, Shamura was doing most of the fighting at the moment. Kallamar was barely trying to survive, only blocking attacks and trying to evade the shark. Each parry against his sword felt like being hit with a huge boulder. His sword felt like a child's toy compared to the massive trident.

Shamura kept their distance from Carcharias so as not to be struck, before lunging at him after blows to slice at him with their sharp, bladed hands, and then retreating again. Their aim was to wear down his armor, for a God's hand could wear down any metal eventually. The armor bore deep cuts. Just a few more hits...

Kallamar held out his hand, attempting to use his crown's powers on the shark. For a moment, Carcharias appeared effected, but he shrugged it off like an old coat. Sometimes God's powers did not work on other divine beings. Still it was worth a try.

The spider attempted another attack, but was caught off guard when Carcharias removed a hand from his trident and backhanded Shamura across the face. They stumbled, and the shark took the opportunity to smack them with his tail, before bringing up the trident and bashing it into their head. Shamura had no choice but to retreat, sending out a string of silk behind them, which stuck to the far wall, allowing them to zip away.

Carcharias turned his sights on Kallamar. He had barely moved since the fight started, rooted in place, petrified with fear. Seeing Carcharias coming his way, he dropped the sword in panic, racing to the doors, the way to salvation.

"LET ME OUT!" He screamed, banging his fists against the doors. "PLEASE! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!!" What he would have given to be back in Lilybell's arms again! Even in the midst of a huge battle, he felt he could take it if only she were there.

"This is the best you could do, Shamura?" Carcharias smirked, picking up Kallamar's sword, still moving towards him. "You are more pathetic than I imagined!"

Kallamar turned just in time to see the sword coming down on him. The blow that was meant for his head instead swiped down his left eyelids, leaving a long, intense cut. He screamed again, afraid he'd been blinded, leaping away from the shark and tumbling on the floor. Carcharias came upon him again as he tried to crawl to safety, just barely missing severing a tentacle.

"Had I known how amusing this would be, I would have done this sooner," Carcharias growled, baring his sharp fangs. "Shall I boil you, or fry you?"

He was cut off by a sudden explosion on his back. Shamura had thrown a bomb down on him from the ceiling. Carcharias howled in pain as his armor was heated by the blast, hurriedly unclasping it and throwing it away. Shamura saw their chance and dropped from the ceiling on top of him, sinking their fangs into the thick skin of his neck. Kallamar's sword fell to the ground with a heavy clang, and Kallamar quickly snatched it up, taking a swing at the shark's unprotected chest.

Carcharias raised the trident high above his head, and a buzzing feeling flowed through the water before a bolt of lightning blasted out from it, hitting Kallamar in the center of his chest. Kallamar was sent flying, weakened by the shock.

"Kallamar!" Shamura exclaimed, releasing their fangs from Carcharias. The shark dropped the trident momentarily (the ultramarine crown slithering back up his arm to his head) and grabbed hold of them, throwing them over his shoulder towards their brother.

"Fried it is," Carcharias panted, holding his chest where Kallamar had cut him.

*

"I don't understand," Lilybell said, approaching Trenaty. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere far away, where no one can ever find us." Trenaty closed up the backpack before kneeling on the floor and taking out her chalk. "I can only take us as far as the shoreline. From there we have to walk. The otters told me of a safehouse for women seeking shelter at the far end of Darkwood. We can plan what to do next when we get there."

"But I don't want to go," Lilybell said as Trenaty started sketching out a magic circle.

"We don't have a choice. Carcharias is going to kill Kallamar, and in the meantime, everyone here will be picked off."

Lilybell's heart sank at hearing this. "So it's true," she mumbled dejectedly, "you are working for Carcharias."

Trenaty only spared her a quick look up before returning to the circle. "Make sure you don't leave anything important behind."

"But I'm not going. I want to stay here with Kallamar. And anyway, Lord Shamura brought their soldiers to help fight Carcharias's army, so it's going to be okay!"

The starfish looked surprised at that. "Good. It will give us more time to get away."

Lilybell knelt down in front of Trenaty. "You're not listening to me. I don't want to go, and I don't think you want to either. I can talk to Kallamar and I can tell him that you're sorry and you want to come back. You like Kallamar, don't you?"

"No. I don't care about anyone. And Kallamar won't take me back, not if he has any sense. He will have me killed before anything else."

"What? Kallamar isn't like that-"

"All gods are like that, Lilybell." Trenaty stood up, the circle finished, and pocketed her chalk. "They are all selfish creatures who hurt others and destroy families for their own gain."

"You... you don't mean that, you're just scared. Kallamar wouldn't-"

Suddenly, Trenaty lunged forward with an intense look on her face, grabbing Lilybell's shoulders and shaking her fiercely. "Wake up, Lilybell!" She hollered, "don't you understand that you're in serious danger?! I'm trying to save you! Do you know what Carcharias will do if he gets ahold of you if you aren't killed here? He will torture you and hurt you for being so close to Kallamar! Maybe even worse than that!"

"Trenaty, you're scaring me!!" Lilybell cried.

"You should be scared! I won't let Carcharias have you! I won't let him kill my family again!"

Lilybell shook her head, tears forming in her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "I can't! I can't leave Kallamar behind! I don't wanna go!"

Trenaty was still for a moment, her eyes wild with desperation. Then her grip on Lilybell's shoulders relaxed, and Lilybell moved away quickly.

"I won't let him kill you."

She reached into her cloak, pulling out a sharp dagger.

"T-Trenaty?" Lilybell murmured, backing up against the bed.

"I won't let him torture you. Just hold still. It will be over quickly."

The door burst open just then, and Saleos entered looking panicked. "Miss Lily-!"

Saleos saw Lilybell, who looked terrified, and Trenaty the traitor with the dagger.

He didn't hesitate. He pulled up the crossbow he was carrying, took quick aim, and pulled the trigger. The bolt lodged into the side of Trenaty's head, and she fell to the side with a heavy thud.

"TRENATY!!!" Lilybell screamed, rushing to the starfish's side. Trenaty's eyes looked at her, seeming to hear her voice, but she didn't move. "Trenaty, no!!! Trenaty!!!"

Saleos hastily came to Lilybell's side, but instead of comforting her or helping Trenaty, he grabbed Lilybell and threw her over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, miss! We have to go!"

"NOOO!!" Lilybell fought against him, kicking and punching him with all her might, but all it did was slow him down slightly. "Put me down! Trenaty! TRENATY!!!"

Saleos carried her, still screaming, into the corridor and towards the main hall. Shouting and the sound of metal clashing could be heard outside, and something big and heavy was banging against the temple doors. Shamura's soldiers were at the ready, prepared for the coming onslaught. Just as Saleos and Lilybell entered the main hall, the temple doors burst open and Carcharias's soldiers descended.

Saleos carried her to the main stage and tried to get her into the dungeon, but she fought against him, trying to run towards the doors.

"You killed her!" She screamed over and over. "You killed her!"

It took three guards to finally get her down the stairs, male followers having to lean against the railing for them to get by. By the time they got to the bottom, Lilybell had given up trying to fight, and was a sobbing mess, completely inconsolable.

Merryn and Anna came to her side as the guards went back upstairs, ready to defend the main hall if it were impregnated. Merryn wrapped her arms around Lilybell and held her close, letting her cry.

Lilybell's only remaining hope was that Kallamar returned soon, and this would all be over.

*

Shamura shot out webbing at Carcharias's face to distract him as they stood back up and charged, knocking the shark down on his back. They wrapped their legs and arms around him, holding him still and pinning his arms to his sides, before stabbing him with their stinger, filling him with venom. Carcharias shouted in pain, writhing against the spider.

Kallamar slowly got up on his hands and knees, his head swimming. His arms were shaking, barely able to hold himself up. He wanted to go home. They weren't going to win this. Maybe if he renounced his godhood and left the ocean, Carcharias would allow him to live. That was the only option left, wasn't it?

Shamura jumped away from Carcharias as the venom took its course. In moments, Carcharias's muscles would contract and he would be unable to move. Now was their chance.

"This is your end, Carcharias," Shamura said, taking out the rest of their bombs, about a dozen or so. They drew their scythe-like hands over the wicks and lit them all with magic. "Make peace with all that you have done."

They threw the bombs towards the ceiling and turned to run, not waiting to see them detonate, grabbing Kallamar on the way. With a few slices at the door, they were able to kick it open just as the bombs exploded. The carved ceiling began to cave in, huge stones raining down around Carcharias as he struggled to follow Shamura and Kallamar to the doors. He made it to the doorframe before being pummeled by the ceiling, everything but one arm and his head being buried. Kallamar shouted in alarm as Carcharias dug his nails into the floor, attempting to pull himself out.

"This isn't over!" Carcharias exclaimed, "I'll kill you! I will never stop! Not until you're dead!"

Kallamar had had enough. Enough of the fighting, enough of the harassment, enough of being here. He held up his sword and plunged it into Carcharias's skull. He stabbed over and over again until the shark stopped moving. He didn't notice the ultramarine crown slithering away. Shamura took care of it, stabbing it with their hand. It wriggled for a few moments before stopping and melting away into a black puddle.

As Kallamar stabbed Carcharias, and life slowly drained away from him, a single tear slipped from his eye. It solidified as it fell to the floor, godhood memorialized, and landed rightside up, glistening with power. Shamura picked it up and hid it within their cloak, returning to their normal form as Kallamar finally fell away, exhausted and overwhelmed, leaving the sword in Carcharias's skull.

"Help me pull him out," Shamura ordered.

Kallamar was too tired to ask questions. Once Carcharias's upper body was uncovered, Shamura took up the sword and carved out his heart. It still beat slightly in his hands, life not entirely gone yet.

"Come, brother," Shamura said gently. "Our job is done. We must return to your temple."

They arrived at the top of the hill just before the coral reef, to see the temple surrounded by Shamura and Carcharias's soldiers. Dead bodies were strewn here and there, weapons scattered. Neither side appeared to be winning or losing.

"FOLLOWERS OF CARCHARIAS!" Shamura called out to the soldiers, who one by one turned to them in confusion. They held the heart up high for all to see, blood dripping down their arm. "BEHOLD THE HEART OF YOUR GOD, AND KNOW HE IS NO MORE!"

A few soldiers attempted to run away, while some remained to continue fighting, refusing to believe their god was dead. Anyone who stayed was immediately turned on by multiple of Shamura's soldiers, who made quick work of them. Within moments, soldiers were escaping the temple, and Kallamar was horrified to see the doors had been smashed in by a battering ram.

"Go, brother," Shamura said. "We shall make mincemeat of these fools. Your worshippers need you."

Kallamar didn't need to be told twice. He teleported to the main hall, soldiers and guards relieved to see him.

"Lord Kallamar," Saleos began to say before Kallamar interrupted him.

"Where is she?" Kallamar asked, and no one needed clarification as to who he was asking for.

Saleos pointed to the dungeon trapdoor, and Kallamar flew to it, ripping it off its hinges. "Lilybell!" He called out to her as followers filed out. "Lilybell, darling! I'm here!"

"He's here!" Merryn whispered as Lilybell jerked away from her at the sound of his voice, sprinting towards the staircase.

"Kallamar!" She cried, racing up the stairs with tears in her eyes. She fell once, and then again, but she did not slow down, desperate to see him. When their eyes finally met, relief flooded through them and they reached for each other. It was all over. And there was nowhere they would rather be than with each other.

Lilybell threw herself into Kallamar's hands and he lifted her up to his face, tears forming in his eyes. They cried together, Lilybell hugging his face while he nuzzled her, big round tears getting in her wool but she didn't care. Nothing else mattered right now except that they were together.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed, "I'm so sorry I couldn't be here for you. I couldn't protect you."

"Kallamar...!" Was all Lilybell could say.

Followers watched the two lovers, not daring to step outside the main hall just yet. Saleos attempted to form Kallamar in on what had happened, but Merryn put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head, stopping him. The sounds of combat outside the hall slowly faded, and was replaced with Kallamar and Lilybell's sobs.

[praetoravila]

distant memories tucked away

a/n: based slightly off an old baby photo that i found from my first birthday. once again, i have so many feelings about wren and olive and nowhere to put them. also peep me trying to figure out la geography. i hc that when wren first moved to la at 16, she got an apartment in boyle heights and she lived there until olive was about three years old. then she moved to a bigger studio apartment in central la, before she moved to the palm woods which is nearby LAX. if you want a soundtrack for this drabble, listen to everything i know from in the heights original broadway cast recording. it sets the tone perfectly.

taglist: @myloveforhergoeson @ceruleanmusings @raging-violets @bibaybe @daughter-of-melpomene @nolanhollogay @ithinkyouhealedmyheart @selangkir @happinessismagicc

There are two copies of the photo. One of them rests on the corkboard in Olive’s room, amongst others of her and Wren and distant cousins, and the people they lived with in Whittier Place off of Boyle Street.

The other lies tucked into Wren’s box of Olive’s baby clothes and toys. The box that resides under her bed.

The photo is simple. Olive is a baby, maybe a year old. Wren is still clearly a teenager. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail and she’s grinning at the camera, trying to get Olive to smile as well. Her gold Chicana approved earrings glimmer in the LA sun.

Olive on the other hand is dressed in a red shirt with strawberries decorating it. Her pants which inevitably end up stained are a thin white linen.

She’s holding a popsicle, red coloured juice flowing down her fingers.

Even as a baby, she has wide brown eyes that stare off into the distance. Wren’s fingers are smushed against her cheeks, trying to make her giggle. It’s a total and utter failure.

Wren doesn’t remember who took the photo. It might have been Ricky Rodriguez from apartment 232, or Mrs. Madga Perez from across the hall.

Hell it could be anyone, but she knows it wasn’t one of their parents.

She had been living on her own for three years at this point.

In five years, Olive will start to spend every summer with her. In seven years, Olive will move into her apartment full time.

At fourteen and twenty four, they will move into the Palm Woods.

At fourteen and three quarters and twenty four, Olive will get arrested and Wren will wonder how she failed her sister that badly.

At fifteen, Olive falls in love for the first time and Wren prays to a God that she isn’t quite sure she believes in that it works out.

(Spoiler alert, after a lot of tough moments and a lot of teenage stupidity, eventually it does.)

But for now, they are immortalized in a photo taken on someone’s shitty old Canon at a neighborhood block party. Olive is still just a baby with wide eyes and a gummy smile, and Wren should be in college but she’s chasing her dreams of becoming an actress, and the LA sun is beaming down on both of their face.

[leggerefiore]

Aliens Submas. Human AFAB Reader. After the First Contact with the twins but that went badly and only the Reader survived of the crew. The Three stuck in the human space station but only because Nobori and Kudari want to make it the nest for their mate. The Twins find out about Valentine's Day and decide to celebrate it with Reader, but they don't fully understand it and it ends up as usual with those two, i.e. fucking, it doesn't matter if Reader is willing or not

Invasion

cw: 18+ content but not explicit, yandere, noncon, poly (ingo/reader, emmet/reader), alien au, death of other characters implied,

Minors DNI

sorry for lack of anything too explicit my brain just wouldn't let me write any :(

At first, your crew was confused as to how these aliens made it into your space station without being noticed by the security system.

They took on a humanoid form, but strange anomalies with tentacles sprouting out from their back alongside glowing gems in their chests made it obvious they were far from a species like your own. Your captain barked out an order to contain them. You stood back in terror, only a survey researched that was on board to investigate the far-off planets the crew was sent to explore. They were fast creatures, moving before you could even think to react.

Screams and shouts echoed throughout the room as you felt a ball of cowardice overtake you. Heavy breaths came from you as your feet pounded against the metal flooring. You dashed further and further away from the atrium, seeking out the communications room to radio out for help. This obviously was not going to end well. Hostile aliens had always been considered, but none were supposed to make their way on to the station.

Tears burned your eyes as you considered how you had just beaten off an odd cold just a few days prior. Your health had slumped after a trip to a passing comet. The medic of your crew had declared you to have simply overexerted yourself. Hiccuping, you realised you had gone the wrong way in the sprawling corridors of the station. Your quarters were nearby, however.

Quietly, you sneaked into your room and set the door to lock behind you. Crawling into the corner of the room, you gazed out the small window into the vast expanse of space outside. This place was nothing like the scenery provided by earth. Had you made the wiser choice to stay home, you would have avoided this entire situation, but you stupidly craved adventure and believed the lies of being something akin to a pioneer. Those were dumb dreams.

You tried desperately to send out a distress signal with a local communicator, but just as you pressed the button… The station's power cut out. You froze as you set in the dim room with only emergency low-power lights providing any illumination. Those aliens must have been highly intelligent. You crawled under your bed as you hoped for someone to notice the change and send for help. Your communicator's signal was cut with the loss of power.

In a desperate attempt to calm yourself, you recalled the light-hearted conversation you had with a fellow survey member. She had been giggling about a security team member asking her to spend an evening together for Valentine's Day. That seemed so long ago, despite it likely not even having been six hours away from your current time.

A loud clunking sound as heard. You froze. Another soon followed. And another… Until, your door was pried open. Glowing silvery eyes peered inside as the gem embedded in the chest of the creature worked something like an impromptu flashlight. He scanned the room carefully before stepping in with ease. You held your breath and stayed deathly still, hoping he would pass you by. Your eyes were squeezed shut, calling back to youth when 'if I can't see you, you can't see me' still applied.

Everything was still. Everything was quiet.

You opened your eyes.

The alien's gaze peered icily at you. You would have jumped had it not been for the cramped space you had hidden yourself in. His cold hand reached out to grab you, resulting in your backing away further against the wall. A sigh came from him. The mood felt wrong.

“… We will not hurt you,” his voice was gentle and eerily familiar, like something that you had once heard in a dream. Steps echoed in after him. You felt ill as he pulled you out from under the bed. The aliens gazed at you with identical expressions. Truly, they must have been a race of drones, with just how similar the two looked. One of them held a smile, while the other wore a frown. You shuddered.

What were they going to do with you, then? Were your crewmates okay? Many questions raced through your head, but none resulted in answers. The smiling one suddenly restrained your wrists and ankles with his tentacles and stepped toward you. The frowning one shook his head. “I am Emmet,” he cooed at you, “We love you.” You felt awestruck by his words.

“… That's impossible,” you retaliated, “I couldn't love creatures like you anyway.” An expression of hurt crossed Emmet's face as he turned to his counterpart.

“Those are cruel words, dearest,” the frowning one crooned, “You carried our weakened forms to health in your body, after all.” All the blood drained from your body as you felt ice-cold. The heating system was down, too.

“Mmm… Ingo,” Emmet turned to his brother, “I still don't think this place is a desirable nest. Not at all.” Ingo nodded at his twin's words. You felt completely numb. Nest? Were they planning on turning this place into a breeding ground? How did they reproduce? “Naughty thoughts,” he giggled at you and pressed you against the bed, “Brother, I verrrrry much want to convert this place into a proper nest, buuuut my brain wants to go on with the 'Valentine's Day activities'.” Everything felt more and more confusing.

“Are you telepathic?” you tried to get an answer. Emmet shook his head with a playful grin.

“I am in your brain,” he whispered into your ear, “I learnt this language from you and made sure to take on a form you found appealing.” You shivered when his lips pressed to your ear before moving to your jaw. His brother stood stiffly, watching you both with mild annoyance.

“... I will check that all other life forms have been truly eliminated,” Ingo spoke with a cool, authoritative tone, “After confirming, I will return power. I worry this temperature will be inhabitable by our mate.” Emmet pulled away from the skin of your neck he was sucking at to nod at his brother. The twin stepped away and left you alone in the dim room with the smiling alien on top of you. He licked his lips.

“We discovered how to make imitations of human male gametes with our genetic code,” Emmet cooed, “Valentine's Day is about breeding, yes?” You felt horrified as he moved to unzip your bodysuit. “We are so verrrrry lucky you took us from that comet,” he began to press kisses across your exposed chest and down to your navel, “We will give you everything.” You wanted to cry, scream, anything, but instead you pondered something.

“... Why not just take me?” you asked.

“We wanted you to have a nest you would enjoy,” he replied as he slid off the bottom half of your suit, “You love this place. And our home planet would not accept you.” You shivered his another one of his tentacles freed itself to rub between your legs pleasurably. You moaned loudly. Another giggle came from him. “I know you are into aliens, too.”

You wished you had not read and watched some much xenophilic content in the past. It was impossible to deny that you would have been interested in them had they not attacked your crew as they had. You could only swallow.

“Happy Valentine's Day!”

A moan left you as the tentacle entered you.

~

You watched as another rescue ship met a quick end at the hand of your station. It had changed quite a bit since you first arrived here. The only human on board was you, but there were many, many aliens. Emmet hummed in annoyance as they called for backup. Ingo took to trying to comfort your upset son. They had begun remodelling the ship to better fit your tastes. It resembled a human home more than a research station now.

You leaned back down, going back to your card game with your daughter. These changes had long since been accepted by you. Everything that happened was your fault, after all. If you had not brought these alien invaders into the station, none of this would have happened. Sighing, you caught Emmet's gaze on you again.

It was impossible to leave, your many failed attempts only showed they were truly a part of you. Everything was easier now than it had ever been before. Your daughter, however, turned to Emmet with big pleading eyes.

“When do I get a mate?”

[popculturebuffet]

Transformers More than Meets the Eye Retrospective: Intermission: Robots in Disguise Season 1 Retrospective (Patreon Review for Brotoman.EXE)

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to my More than Meets the Eye retrospective. Kinda. For those of you just joining us for the past two years i've been doing a retrospective of the Transformers comic More than Meets the Eye, one of my faviorite comics ever. While it is as a patreon review i've been more than happy to and in december we hit the end of season 1.

So now.. we're in a weird in between place, as season 1 for MTMTE is over.. but we still have a big crossover event left. And to judge said event fairly.... I realzied I had to go back and re-read Robots in Disguise to properly gage said event.

Yeah i've never been a huge fan of the 2012 comic Robots in Disguise. See I first read RiD AFTER More than Meets the Eye, having loved what I could read of MTMTE and wanting more. This... wasn't the right mindset in hindsight as the two works are completely diffrent beasts: MTMTE is about a found family of disfunctional robots trying to move on from war, making quips, and dealing with their trauma. It is a LOT of things I love in fiction: a bunch of misfits who don't really fit into the society their a part of, clever jokes, spectacular world building, and minor characters given their day in the sun. It feels at times like the book was made for me, down to repadeatly homaging one of my faviorite covers of all time. It was easy to love it and it only grows as I dig into it.

RID in contrast.. is an attempt at a morally grey prestige drama that on paper is about the sacrifices and compromises the autobtos make trying to rebuild cybertron, and in practice is about a weak willed useless jackass, his jackbooted best friend, a well meaning non combatant who means well but also is judgey as fuck, and Starscream, who easily outmanuvers them because a sock full of quarters with googly eyes on it could out manuver them. Wheeljack and Blur are also there and they are delightful but not used nearly enough . I gave the book an honest chance and was badly disapointed, and I gave it a second chance despite utterly dreading this.. and was once again disapointed. RiD is just not very good.

Now i'll give some caveats: the book DOES get better in season 2, with a fresh cast and premise that work decently. It's not on MTMTE"s level.. but I respect writer John Barber and IDW for seeing what they fucked up and course correcting. Barber's work isn't my forte, but the guy isn't terrible an does have his fans for a reason, I just prefer More than Meets the Eye and Windblade more, with Windblade being a second, much more succesful stab at IDW doing an intrigue on cybertron book, one i'll defintely cover at some point. It helps Windblade got most of the standouts from this book as supporting cast, but it's genuinely good and worth your time. None of this makes season 1 GOOD, by any stretch, but I wanted to get it out of the way that YES the series gets better. But you can also largely skip season 1 or read the wiki without loosing much for either RiD Season 2 or Windblade.

That being said.. Season 1 is a mess. It wasn't that pleasant to re read despite it's bright spots and it took a while to get through, an utter chore to slog through this one. One of the only bright sides is it taught me I CAN review a whole series in one post again.. just probably in smaller doses than my last attempt with new teen titans, which was great but just about killed me. So other series I dislike like All New All Diffrent X-Men, Dan Slott's fantastic four or Jason Aaron's avengers are now more within my grasp to actually tear apart at some point.

For now though let's focus on THIS disapointing series, see why it is and also talk a lot about how much this version of Bumblbee sucks and this version of Starscream fucking slaps.

Do You Have Any Clue What Happens Now?

Like more than Meets the Eye, Robots in Disguise kicks off with the Death of Optimus Prime, a one shot setting up both series and dealing with the aftermath of Chaos, the big event that ended the previous era of IDW and allowed a soft reset for this one.

So as a quick recap since it's been a long time since I tackled this issue: The War is Over. At long lost the Autobots defeated the evil forces of the decpitcons after all of them were combined by an elder god into one giant deciptigod and Megatron disappeared after hyjacking it.

The problem is what comes next which is a great hook and part of what makes MTMTE works: the war is over.. but unlike most transformers stories that get to end the war, we see what happens now everyones free.

The Autobots take command.. but it's not going wella s Optimus Prime finds out: the planet has reverted to a primal state and thousands of civlians, dubbed nails by the autobots and something the nails aren't fond of, have arrived and the vast majority of them want the Autobots to fuck off their planet.

The Nails.. are one of the biggest wasted opportunities of Robots in Disguise. The IDEA is good: a bunch of bots who either fled one of the two sides or managed to opt out entirely return and aren't happy with the planet or military leadership. It's a concept with a lot of depth as on the one hand the autobots have a point

While the Nails had every right to nope out of a war they were tired of, the Autobots fought long hard and lost a lot to get to this point and blaming them for something that's objectively not their fault, the planet going bonkers, isn't remotely fair. On the other.. the nails have every right ot want the planet back and to want a part in it, and to want leadership that isn't just the autobots.

The problem is the conflict is handeled with the subtley of a sledgehammer and thus BOTH sides come off as assholes: The Autobots make up an embarassing faction name for them, push them around and Prowl goes into a creepy tirade about how this isn't "Their" planet and they didn't fight in the war and later sics the deciptcons on them afte rthey agree to get explosives put in their brains.

The Nails Meanwhile spend the start of the sreies, especially the death of optimus prime bitching at the autobots, treating them as facists, and treating them all like they were complicit in the senates corruption, which only gets more galling after season 1 of MTMTE as most were fully against it.. they just couldn't do anything about it. Neither could you guys. It dosen't help they HANG OPTIMUS PRIME IN EFFIGY for the crime of STAYING AROUND ON A PLANET HE JUST SAVED.

The lack of nuance makes me just.. not care about most of both sides: The Autobots come off like their trying to consolidate power and remain in charge because they feel owed it, while the Nails blame them for everything. We COULD have had a good story abotu trying to perserve the past while acknowldging it's flaws and making a better present, but instead it's just the nails either whining or making entirely valid points that the autobots, mostly prowl, try to police brutality away because they can't accept they shoudlnt' be running things.

In the middle of all this Perciptor examines the matrix and finds a map, with Drift seeing it as a map to the mythical knights of cybertron and wanting to go on a quest to find it. Rodimus agrees, while Bee wants them to stay here and be miserable dammit because he is. While on paper Rodimus is running away from his problems in practice.. he defintely is but makes a valid point: Why SHOULD he stay on a planet that doesn't want him. And when Ultra Magnus joins with them, he makes a valid point: finding the knights could find something to fix cybertron. While Rodimus' hopes finding the knights will fix everything is a pipe dream, those are Rodders faviorite kind, their not wrong to want to find a solution that isn't just "Try and make this work" and forcing people who genuinely dont' WANT to help you to do what you say isn't healthy. This isn't a war for all time: it's just a disagremeent about what you want to do now your free of the war.

Optimus ends their squabble by giving them each half the matrix and fucking off, deciding to shed his former mane and his planet. The Lost Light leave despite Bumblebee's bitch crying.. and then seemingly blow up.

And this is where RiD begins, our cast is barely holding Cybertron together, aren't adressing their problem and now they assume the lost light is dead. So what does this add up to?

Okay TECHNICALLY this isn't true: Bumblebee sets up a state funeral for the bots, which is Starscream's first big platform to worm his way into high command, and Wheeljack brings him up once... but really you could take this subplot out and replace the big shindig with something else and nothing would change.

In contrast the messy takeoff... is VITAL to More Than Meets The Eye: the explosion it causes sends a good chunk of lost lighters to the planet bellow, brings skids on board when they investigate the planet, and brings the sparkeater on board to set those up for much later. And that's not even getting into how the opening arc of season 2 follows up on it, which i'll save for when we get there. Here.. they just sorta assume their friends are dead, don't bother investigating or thinking that MAYBE a ship with a quantum engine did some weird shit. It's to the point that when Optimus is told during his sub plot, his response... is to not remotely buy Rodimus could be killed that easy and assume they'll find them eventually. Which.. they do.

There's also just.. legistics. I know this is a pair of comics about giant robots, science isn't strictly followed nor should it be. But if the lost light exploded.. there would be debris. And they HAVE plenty of ships. Someone could investigate. If the Nails think the autobots REALLY commited this sort of execution, as their said to outright suspect including their rep in the main cast metalhawk, then .. why would NONE of the thousands of bots with functioning space ships look into it. Or the deciptcons once their brain explode chips are turned off. It feels like an excuse to just have the two not interact.. which they already had being out of range and with Blaster spending the season getting coms up and running again.

Anyways the series proper mostly follows Autobot high command as they try to run this planet/prevent anyone else from doing so. Like the lost light exploision this is a possibly intresting hook... that's utterly bungled. They do do things with it.. but they don't do them well. And the best way to get into that is with the characters starting with their supreme leader

Bumblebee: He's Tried Nothing and He's All Out of Ideas

The idea of Bumblebee being forced to take charge of the autobots is a great one. Tranformers has gone to this well three times i'm aware of, and it's a concept worth exploring taking what's essentially the team's kid brother and forcing him to take the throne and see if he can make it.

IDW's last attempt before this wasn't great, with Bee making a deal with the goverment that backfired horribly, and generally acomplishing nothing. So trying AGAIN.. was a smart move. It was worth a second try.

Unfortunately... Barber entirely bungled that second attempt. Bumblebee is TECHNICALLY leader of cybertron.. but really dosen't try to lead. He lets prowl do whatever he wants and whatever prowl wants is usually some form of police brutality, he argues with metal hawk but tends not to have an argument other than "the autobots aren't all bad mkay" or "All decipticons deciptisuck", and he overworks poor sweet Wheeljack, fostering all their super science shit on him and being mad when the guy is doing work of his own. It's VERY transparent in every scene he's in Bumblebee wants peace with the Nails not because it's the right thing.. but simply so the autobots can hold onto the planet. While the Nails are often written as overreacting assholes, as the book goes on they mellow out and most of their actions are entirely... justifable. Their horrified Prowl put bombs in the decipticons brains, they don't want police brutality, they want to actually elect a leader.

Every move Bee makes is to keep himself in charge despite not having a single fucking idea what he's doing. I could buy him as a leader if he tried.. leading: Tried finding homes for the Nails, making actual negotations with the decpticons, send out a party to go tame the primal planet so they can expand iacon , actually hammer out a government. There's a LOT to building a whole new world after a war, it's the reason Hamilton got an entire, incredibly gripping act out of all the nation building. But instead RiD just ignores the intresting idea of rebuilding cybertron's goverment and how it governs itself from scratch and just focuses on Bee whining or various things that happen for the plot. And by doing so it makes Bumblbee and those loyal to him come off like power grabbing assholes who care more about being appricated for fighting the war and less about making a better world to live in or even making the world LIVEABLE.

What makes this so galling though is how the narrative treats bee: characters talk about his "great vision" failed or say he might win the election. That last part is Prowl/Bombshell playing Bee, more on that in a minute, but most of the cast talks his ass up when really he's just a guy way in over his head, which could be intresting to explore.. but they just.. DON'T. Instead we just follow a bland dithering jackass as he fucks up till eventually someone smarter, with more charisma and an actual plan takes his place. But before we can get to them.. let's talk about the most punchable face in Autobot high command

Fuck Prowl

Yeah I tried to make a clever title here, I really did.. but most attempts lead to a storm of profanity as I genuinely detest this version of Prowl. And as a reminder like bumblebee it's JUST the IDW comics version. Animated Prowl slaps. Prowl's G1 deisgn is great. I'm sure there are other prowls who don't suck all joy out of a page when they show up or are the poster boy for why we need police reform despite doing a police on a whole other planet. I"d like to meet them. But this prowl is one of my least faviorite characters in fiction. In fact I can't bleivei I didn't add him to my jjall before now.

Welcome Home Prick!

Now I will give one caveat to this character: Part of the problem is the multitude of writers: James Roberts, who wanted Prowl for his cast, wrote prowl as a giant asshole who could never let the war go and got two people killed with his overlord scheme. Nick Roche wrote prowl as a scheming asshole who paranoidly plots. And tha'ts not even getting into his asshole characterization in books BEFORE this era.

John Barber.. dosen't walk either of these back, but wants Prowl to be a complex symapthetic figure, someone who is a calculating draconian asshole.. but who was driven there by his betryal by spike in the previous ongoing, and who badly WANTS to do the right thing. The problem is rather than make prowl a layered intresting character.. he instead comes off as an asshat who constantly tries to justify the horrible shit he does as "for the greater good"

It's not helped that Prowl's first scenes in this era leave a truly terrible first impression: The first things we see from prowl are

Him bitching about the nails and being absolutely LIVID at their suggestion the autobots leave the planet, not because it's a stupid unfair suggestion, but because he feels OWED the planet and was also once nearly one himself.

Conscripting the Decipticons into his own private army he uses to try and supress a riot from the Nails, instead making it ten times worse and only not getting anyone killed because Optimus steps in.

In MTMTE, trying to convince Chromedome to stay so he can use his ex boyfriend to do mnemosurgery, something Chromedome VERY much dosen't want to do, mocking his current boyfriend and then flipping a table like a petulant teenager when Chromedome walks out on his ass.

Using Arcee as his own personal hit squad , having her assitnate ratbat then trying to act like he didn't ask her to do that.

It's.. nigh impossible to come back form all of that and Prowl really dosen't. He spends the season brainwashed by Bombshell, in part thanks to trying to blackmail Chromedome and forgetting "oh yeah he can do mind things to me".. and NO ONE notices. He's horrified by that fact, but it's VERY telling that the only action of his that was hintingly out of character.. was telling bumblebee he could win the election. GENUINELY supporting his friend instead of trying to talk over him... is something that was a HINT he was brainwashed and the only thing people felt off. Said brainwashing also feels like it came out of nowhere, with not the slightest hint, and feels like a way to soft reset the character... which then fails as he spends season 2 once again out of his head... and once again in a way that isn't remotely out of character. I don't blame prowl for what he did under bombshell for most of the sries, he was brainwashed. But it's DAMMING that he did enough in ONE VOLUME before being hypnotized to earn my ire. More than Meets the Eye dosen't HELP nad IS a diffrent writer.. but even under Barber he's just the worst and I don't look forward to seeing more of him during Dark Cybertron and beyond. I DO look forward to seeing him hurled off a cliff.

All Hail Starscream:

Taking a break from pure, unyielding rage for a second, let's talk about something the book does right. I may be giving John Barber a LOT of crap this review.. but I can't deny he writes the best Starscream. There are other great starscreams from the hilarously over the top unsubtle 84 version, to the compitent but still hilarously shady animated verison and i'm sure i'll only find more as I watch more shows. Starscream rocks. But this one takes all that and asks a question: What happens when you take Starscream out of war and put him where his lying and scheming are an asset and his bad past is a non factor if he can lie hard enough: Politics.

While the autobots drown post war, trying to find their place.. Star scream swims like a majestic dolphin. Granted he's a Majestic Dolphin who still gets shit on a lot as it's starscream and everyone knows not to trust him and he has to work hard for his schemes for the most part... but he's still FAR more at home here than he ever was trying to usurp megatron. With the Decpticons, might made right: Megatron was on top because he was a great tactician, sure, but he was also capable of kicking anyone's ass who dared defy him, and had a death squad just for making a gruesome example out of anyone who betrays or tries to leave the cause. While Starscream was strong he couldn't muslce out megs or the various destructive douchebags he hired.

In contrast on Cybertron post war... he simply has to outthink and outspeak his opponents, who even if they weren't mostly fuck ups, still aren't really public speakers. Starscream first weasles his way into command with a few simple moves: He goes to the autobots in good faith, which they rightfully don't buy, tells them about a planned false flag attack by ratbat.. then once he's foiled, steps onto the stage at the funeral the attack was taking place at and boldly offer shimself as a formerish decipticon representive. While Bee never trusts the guy, for good damn reason, from that point on it simply dosen't matter: he's in the room where it happens. And often.. he's somehow the voice of reason. He's always got an angle... but it dosen't change the fact he's right or he gives Metalhawk someone to back him up. Not only that some of the bonds he forms are genuine. Metalhawk genuinely warms up to screamer and Wheeljack is the only one to try and make amends, to the point that after my boy gets horribly injured, Starscream makes sure he's getting healed and genuinely feels bad the poor guy got hurt.

On top of that once the media is restored for iacon, Starscream plays to the cameras, with his biggest play since stepping on stage coming in the annual: The Autobots find a titan in the desert while looking for lost comrades, trying to keep starscream out of it as Bee is deathly aware finding them would be some very easy bipartisan points for Screamer. Screamer shows up anyway... and when Prowl's croney keeps a gun traind on him and metalhawk, Screamer easily turns the situation on them: He invites a TON of Nails to watch and essentially make it so if he gets shot, it's over for the autobots, then goes down himself. It's here he gets a stroke of pure luck: The titan they've found... deems Starscream as some kind of chosen one. This isn't necessarily a good thing long term... but it does mean a lot especailly to the religious. Now normally this would mean nothing or months of trying to find proof.. but because Screamer's crowd crawled down to witness the titan once it was safe.. they all heard it.

At this point.. Starscream's basically won. The only genuine compettion he'd have in an open election is metalhawk, but either way the Autobots have basically lost control and all that's left is to wait for the elections. Sadly for Screamer he soon has a no good very bad day as Megatron comes back and Starscream spends the next arc as a hostage after going to rant at his former boss, with Megatron not remotely interested in compromise.

That said Starscream has survivied being humilaited plenty and while the Autobots are autobusy dealing with Megatron and the decpeticons, not to mention prowl combining with devestator, Starscream reminds us who he is: He kills Metalhawk, later being genuinely regretful.. but acknowledging Metalhawk was, genuinely, the only thing in his way. He was the only oponent in his rise to power left: Megatron was dealt with, the autobots had shot themselves in the foot 87 times, he feels terrible about what he did.. but killing Metalhawk looses him a friend and someone who belivied in him.. but gains him a Martyr. In the aftermath Screamer basically declares himself LEADER OF THE DECPTEICONS.. ER CYBERTRON, everyone backs him and he gets rid of most of his major opposition by casting out anyone who won't revoke their faction. A few autobots like Blurr stay behind... but msot of the cast we know are cast into the wildnerness and it's their own damn fault.

We get one last issue with Screamer , a spotlight that shows this job will be hard as while speeching got him INTO the job, he has to solve actual problems. Three Monologues is the best issue of season 1 as Starscream rants at megatron in stasis, reflects to Metalhawk's corpse and genuinely opens up to an injured in stasis wheeljack. Not only that Starscream also gets his own starscream, Beast Wars Faviorite rattrap. I'm mixed on this version of him: the character is very well written, being a slimy weasel whose looking for an angle and who gets rid of a local altruist for star scream by framing the guy. It creates an intresting relationship too as Starscream recognizes the behavior of his own.. and takes Rattrap into his administration. As Screamer perfectly puts it the guy Rattrap framed.. was a liablity. He liked star scream, genuinely belivied in the titans... but as Starscream brilliantly puts it altrusim.. is unpredictable. Rattrap on the other hand is who Screamer used to be before he became god emperor of cybertron starscream the first: he can not only deal with that, but it gives him a minon.

Before we leave Screamer I also just want to say.. I fucking love that he put on the crown from transformers the movie. I've always loed that he just... had to have a little crown for himself and that even if this version is less of a joke, he's still starscream enough to need a crown. It's also a striking visual in this context: Starscream is in control of cybertron. Primus help us.

Metalhawk: Don't Let him Be Misunderstood

For any longtime fans of this series or MTMTE, this section is probably going to be controversial but on second read.. I didn't hate Metalhawk. He's still obnoxious at first, he is the one saying "oh well you should piss off the planet you just fought hard to save from a giant Decipticon monster god man". It's easy to hate him as he's constantly telling our heroes they shoudl fuck off.

Yet on reread.. him doing that is WHY he's entertaining. See when I first read the books it was a few years ago. When I can't remember, my memory catches a lot of things but some things are lost to the enternal bog that is the back of my head, but it was before 2020.. and thus before George Floyd's untimely murder. As a result a lot of what the autobots do read diffrentlY: what they did ALWAYS came off as awful: even when the protestors are slamming the doors down, sending out jackbooted thugs is NEVER a good look, and the way Prowl talks about nails and treats them as second class citzens for simply wanting a voice is ... all kinds of chilling. Prowl sees himself as a police officer, and he certainly is.. but the worst kind, the kind most are who will gladly do shady shit to persue what they think is justice and oppress civlians because their "above them. "

So while said realizations about policing and the various police beatings of innocnet protestors made Prowl somehow even worse.. they made Metalhawk better as a LOT of what he's asking.. comes off more resonable. His wanting the decpticons free was kinda bonkers to me when i first raed it.. but now I entirely get that maybe putting bombs in defeated enemy combatants is you know.. a war crime. If you really want to put decitpcons who are dangerous away.. use a jail. Give them a trial. It's not great but putting them int what's basically a gheto that also oused to be a gun is horrible.

Metalhawk simply wants a voice and change for his people. He grows out of throwing the autobots out, being far more willing to work with them than they are with him and making plenty of valid points. He evolves as a character from a whiny asshole who disrpescts the autobots to seeing them as fuckups.. but ones who, prowl aside, are GENUINELY trying, with Bee planning to basically let Metalhawk takeover after the big fight at the end of season 1 before Starscream put some holes in that plan and also metalhawk. He's often the only person speaking up for a bunch of people who greatly outnumber the people in charge yet have to listen to thir bullshit, something that's become more and mor erelevant as congress fucks up more and more . It's hard to boo him when he's right: the autobots probably SHOUDLN'T be running the planet. They shoudln't leave, but they shoudln't be in charge. They shoudlnt be using deciptcons as easy soldiers and shoudln't keep the bombs in their heads now their vastly outnumbered. He's the voice of reason in a calvlcade of jackasses and a schemeing asshole. He's still annoying at times.. but it's really hard to hate a guy who grows out of his most annoying traits and ends the comic betrayed by the most obvious cantidate, something he only didn't see coming.. because he genuinely thought his friend had changed.

Wheeljack and the Rest: Robots in Disguise has a large cast, but most of the best players are off to the side, Starscream excluded. So let's talk about them.

My easy faviorite is one I wish Roberts had gotten like he wanted, the man the myth, Wheeljack. now I like Wheeljack in general due to his design, a nice faceplate, a unique head, it helps him stand out among the standard faces most autobots have.

Wheeljack seems to be one of the few Autobots genuinely trying for a better tommorow: he tries to make peace with starscream, and is frequently working on other projects before bee yells at him for not being avaliable to put out all his fires. He's kind, considerate and also a genuius, getting a nice moment in the sun when he sneaks into a decipticon ship and fidns out their up to some shit, then escapes the horde. I mean Metalhawk DOES save him in the end, but the fact he did most of this himself and gets both of them out himself is impressive. Wheeljack sadly just dosen't appear a ton and ends the season getting his head crushed by megatron. He does come back during season 2 and quickly becomes besties with Windblade, something we'll get to eventually, so good for him.

Blurr is a close third in the characters I like and is the only one of the autobots to really explore the ideas MTMTE was, the idea of "what do you do with your life next". Blurr does help out at first but his mounting frustration with prowl leads to him noping out, only helping out to try and find Ironhide. He decides to open a bar, much like Swerve , and his is a nicely diffrent joint: while Swerves is basically the cheers of transformer,s a place to forget your worries, hang with pals and get into hyjinks, Macadams, a regular location in most transformers place is that.. but also a melting pot, as Blurr soon makes a bunch of former decepticon friends including Sky Byte, a nail who has a great outfit, with him gladly defending his patrons with his good buddy jazz, whose barely in this comic for some reason despite, as always, being fucking great.

Next up is Ironhide. Ironhide does get a pretty meaty roll, as his recent ressurection has convinced him he's immortal and he's getting flashes of a possible future.. .one where the autobots are gon by cybertron thrives. Naturally everyone assumes he needs help instead of you know.. remembering that they followed the matrix for so long because it had robot magic or the giant stygian being made out of a dark god and 80 decepticons they just fought a month ago. What i'm saying is "I can see the fuuuuuuttttttreeee" isn't that farfetched at this point. So Ironhide goes to explore the wilderness with my boys the dinobots who sadly are all kinda douchey here.. but they still kick plenty of ass. The group disappears for a while after a signal drives my dino boys mad... but naturally they show up just in time to be the calvary in the finale. Ironhide is great.. they just don't really focus on him and I wish they did. Same with the dinobots.

Finally out of the ones who actually do stuff we have Arcee. Arcee... is a lot to unpack despite her short screentime. If you'll recall, and if you don't i'm so sorry for reminding you, Simon Furman's approach to the most prominent female transformer.. was to make it so she was FORCED to become female by a mad scientest, a tonedeaf, transphobic take brought about because Simon Furman hates the very idea Cybertronians have a concept of gender.. despite writing male prounouns into this continuity, thus showing they do just .. all male.

So how did Barber tackle this transphobic mess Simon Furman had saddled him and other writers with?

Yeah he just straight up ignored tha tpart for the first 21 issues. Arcee does mention killing Jhiaxus, the mad scientest in question, again, and again and again, but otherwise as far as RiD is concerned, Arcee is just an autobot who was tortured a lot by Jihaxius and who Prowl uses as his hit squad. She gleefully agrees to this... but it's clear she has no real sense of purpose. She DOES get a well done spotlight issue after the Autobots are cast out, with her wondering if the endless violence is worth it and deciding to join the autobots, wether they want her or not. It's a BETTER characterizfation than Furman's, a person with clear trauma trying to find out "what now"... but that big black cloud of "I done a transphobia because I hate them girl robots" hangs over it. It's an elephant in the room no one wants to talk about. I don't FULLY fault barber for it as IDW could've wanted him not to and it was a subject that would need a through, out in the open exploration. IDW was clearly willing as they supported Chromedome and Rewind and would continue to support out and out queerness in this franchise, Barber just wasn't ready yet and thus kept Arcee out of focus. He'd TRY to deal with this later at least but it's still super uncomfortable for now.

Decepticon wise.. they don't really get to do much till the season finale of sorts: they mostly stand around in a gun barrel and plot. Ratbat, one of my faviorite casettes of Soundwaves, is very prominent, trying to weasle his way into power early on.. but then Prowl goes and kills him and i'm sad. Soundwave , my boy, does fuck all till the build up to dark cybertron while Shockwave is in the shadows preparing said event , mostly done in optimus primes subplot. It's a real waste too as having more deciptcons actually try to reform or at least integrate into society would be neat, instead their just mostly canon fodder after a whil ewith a subplot about one seeing what prowl did going nowhere.

So speaking of Prime

The Thrilling Tales of Orion Pax

I haven't mentiond it till now but RiD has it's own isolated subplot ala the scavengers, just one that only lasts this season. Optimus left after the one shot and while he calls himself orion pax as does this segment... i'm just calling him Optimus like everyone else: Optimus goes on his own thrilling space adventures with his crew of Garnak, an ork like alien, Wheelie, who met garnak while stuck on a planet where time was constantly in flux and is still traumatized from it and Hardhead, a minor character turned Optimus buddy.

The trio had captured Jhiaxus, the mad science guy but got some criptic info. Jhiaxus quickly breaks free and while Optimus intended to just soft retire, he can't deny the danger he or his apprentice turned master Shockwave presents, and thus teams up with this motely crew. The adventures are only across three issue but each is fun, the characterrs ar eintresting if underdevleoped and i'ts neat to see Optimus like this: Grappling with his past, unsure of his future, and unwilling to be Optimus again despite everything pulling him toward it. His characterization also takes a nice turn as he was a minor prick in the return of optimus, calling the circle of light a cult. Douchebags yes, cult no.

There's really.. not much to say here anyalis wwise: these adventures are well done and I wish they were the main focus, and clearly Barber agreed as Optimus takes over next season, if sadly not bringin most of these guys with him.

THey are vital for the build up to Dark Cybertron, with Jhiaxus and his goons being Shockwaves main minons and hinting at his mission.. which Shockwave happily outlines in a spotlight later.. well happy isn't an emotion he experinces but he still outlines it: He's been seeding 13 powerful ores, tying in previous things like super energon and such, and the final and 13th one.. is ressurection, bringing people back under his control. His plans feel vauge in theis build up, but involve jhiaxus taking a titan right to cybertron, the ores, and beating up soundwave, with Prime persuing.

The only complaint I really have is the art, which isn't bad, it's just dark, cold , and muted, and not really my forte, working better to represent the dark universe during the crossover. It's not bad it's just hard to make out the visuals at times is all.

So with that we have one last bit of pre-crossover buisnes sto attend to

THe Old Man's Back Again

I did mention Megatron came back right? Because he did. And since he has a big roll to play in the crossover and in MTMTE season 2, let's talk about where Megs has been. Megs was left half dead after becoming a giant pile of decpticons, coming back towards the end of season 1, having what's essnetially the season finale early and the rest of the issues are spotlights dealing with the aftermath.

Bumblebee's reaction is exactly what you'd expect

I mean it's not unwaranted: it's megatron. He was a walking death machine and a brilliant strategist. It's not wrong to expect that even shambling and half dead he's plotting something.. because that's EXACTLY what he was doing. Bee DOES decide to spare him for a trial after being talked into it, but reluctantly and with Megatron guarded to hell. Unfortuantely.. the person in charge of his security is prowl who has a bit of a brain bug at the moment, having taken out omega supreme.

Yeah turns out a LOT of the seasons events were Megatron

The field driving people into rages was him, bombshell was working for megs the whole time, and Shockwave was working with him.. if only till it was convient enough to bail and go work on his own scheme. It's a MILD stretch and I wish it'd been se tup better.. but like Starscream it's hard NOT to enjoy Meg's presence: he brings a genuine threat and meanace, pinning our heroess to the wall and barely being beaten. He's not as layered as he was about to become... but he's still a clever villian who scoffs at Starscream's bitch crying, not WANTING a compromised cybertron but an empire. He ends up loosing but barely does, having still caused a ton of damage and left enough of a gaping woom for Screamer to take the crown. While this Megs is pretty simplistic, he still serves as a good foundation for what's next: a man who genuinely THINKS he's doing the right thing and that peace really is possible if you throw away those pesky civil liberties and his plan and near victory underline HOW dangeorus he is, why the lost light needs to nerf him to put him on board... and why Cybertron will BADLY need his help in the mess to come.

So that was Robots in Disguise and this review.. was difficult to say the least. It's not a great book but it has flecks of greatness in it and later seasons of this side of transformers and other series would pick up on that

Next Time in March: DARK CYBERTRON BEGINS. Bumlbee and the Bumblefucks try to protect a cyberton that hates and fears them, Rodimus goes into a stygian hole in space time, and Shockwave's plan hopefully makes sense.

[the12thnightproject]

*jumps in*

Gonna fly in and drop a ⭐star⭐ because I know there's probably Director's Commentary you probably are dying to talk about in Ten Things I Hate About Mitsuhide. No pressure, though. Thank you!

Hi and thank you for the ask!

And you're right, I haven't had as much chance to talk about Ten Things, the way I have about Shingen and Mitsunari's longfics.

Loong, long answer below the cut...

Mitsuhide's longfic wasn't intended to be the third story. Originally, it was going to be Shingen, then Hideyoshi, then Mitsunari, but when I finished Shingen's story, I realized what I had planned for Hideyoshi had too many similarities to Shingen's story, so I bumped up Mitsunari. I was loosely considering Ieyasu as after Mitsunari, but Mitsuhide and 'Okatsu' had so much chemistry in Mitsunari's story, that it kind of felt like it needed to be next. He was in fact the love rival in Mitsunari's story, but because we never get his POV, it's not obvious (I think if you skim over his chapters in Mitsunari's story with that in mind, you can sort of see it, but it was never stated).

I still hesitated, because Mitsuhide is so popular that I was afraid if I didn't 'get him right,' it would go down very badly. And while I think I did ok with his character, I still feel like I rushed the story, and it could have used another edit on plot. In the first draft, Mitsuhide and Katsu were separated for most of the last third of the story. Once she left Sakai, they didn't reunite until almost the end (when he joins her in modern Kyoto). But I really hated keeping my two main characters apart for so long, and I was afraid people would lose patience with the story if they were separated for all of Act III. I spent a lot of time fiddling with Act III, and kept changing stuff, even up through nights before I posted the chapters.

So let's really talk about Act III, since the first three quarters of the story were fairly easy for me to write, but that final 25% took me almost as long to write as what came before. Honestly, Act III gave me fits (granted I was writing it last winter when I was working two jobs, and I had far less time to write than normal).

Oh, aside, I'm using film terms to describe the length of my acts... Act I is the first 25%, Act II is the next 50% (although usually is divided into two parts midpoint plot twist being an emotional mid-story climax), and Act III is the final 25%. I consider Act I to go through the point where Katsuko and Mitsuhide contract to work together. Act II through the midpoint goes through when they are taken prisoner by Motonari, and the rest of Act II goes through when Katsu leaves Sakai and Mitsuhide).

In my first attempt at Act III, once Katsuko leaves Mitsuhide's townhouse, she goes to Motonari and bargains with him to take her to Tsuruga - which was my original location for Act III. For reasons (that I no longer remember) Yoshimoto was also onboard. I got about 5 or 6 thousand words into that section, realized it wasn't working (at that point, Motonari was supposed to be the love rival), and backtracked to when she left Mitsuhide. In the revision, she goes to Yoshimoto, who agrees to take her to where Yoshiaki was hiding out. By this time, I realized that Yoshimoto made a better love rival (so when I did my second draft, I gave him a lot more to do in earlier chapters). This was all part of the original handwritten draft, so that Motonari section didn't even get typed up.

As I was working on my next attempt at Act III, I wasn't really sure exactly where Yoshimoto and Katsu were specifically going. I was going to create a new location where Yoshiaki was hiding out, and as I started to describe the area they were riding into, I realized, 'wait, I already created a dark remote castle for Mitsunari's story, I know what it looks like, and the area of that is more or less where this one needs to be too, so lets just use it again.' (I'm also using it in the next story, but just a little bit near the beginning of the fic. So far.) This also allowed me to drop a couple of vague Easter egg clues for the ongoing multiverse story.

Anyway, in that draft, it wasn't Mitsuhide who doubled around and ended up there as he too searched for Yoshiaki, it was Kyubei, who, sent by Mitsuhide, was following Katsu to ensure she was ok. Katsu was aware he was following her, and when she and Yoshimoto discover Yoshiaki's plans to team up with Motonari and Kennyo in order to attack Sakai, she sneaks out of the castle (Yoshimoto creates a diversion), finds Kyubei, and gives him a message to give to Mitsuhide. Then she sneaks back in rejoins Yoshimoto (and then the plot continued more or less the way it played out in the posted draft).

I always write the "his POV" chapters last, and since I changed my mind on Act III prior to writing the his POV chapter, this never did get written, but what my original plan for "what was Mitsuhide doing while Katsu was in Genba was that he had figured out where Toshiie was, and he'd found her brother, and was 'drying him out.' He doesn't learn what happened to Katsu, until Yoshimoto visits Azuchi and tells him. Anyway. That didn't get written, because by the time I was writing the stuff that was taking place in modern Kyoto, I realized that the Act III wasn't working as written. So I dumped the Kyubei chapter and replaced it with the chapter where Mitsuhide connects with Katsu in Genba, the scene in the garden, and then I rewrote the scene on top of the castle wall to include Mitsuhide. I'm happy with that particular decision, because I think it ended up stronger that way. (Sorry Kyubei for dumping your chapter).

I don't think there was that much else I deleted between the first and the second drafts, but there was a fair amount added. Originally the priest who tries to buy Katsu on the slave ship was a one and done character and we never see him again. I later brought him back to that scene on the grounds of the temple that was used for the city managers meeting because the original scene felt a bit flat and needed more danger (originally Katsu just overhears a few different conversations, but that got repetitive). The decision to have him show up on the old video from Katsu's childhood was a last minute right before posting the chapter decision (originally the person in that scene was just a random stranger, but that didn't really pay off).

A couple of other more active scenes got added between the second and third draft to help the pacing. Most of that was in the second half of Act II, the stuff at and around the area where Mai and Hideyoshi were being held prisoner.

Oh a weird BTS thing for the chapter where Mitsuhide teaches Katsu how to pick and code crack locks, is that I actually ordered a couple of cheap antique lock knock-offs from Amazon, watched a few lock picking videos, and taught myself how it worked, to help write that chapter. That was a really fun chapter to write - I enjoyed trying to figure out the sexual tension subtext.

There is also a scene that I didn't write (because the modern section had gotten too long, and it didn't add anything except my personal fan service) but that I consider canon to the story (in my head), is that when Mitsuhide and Shingen were in modern Japan with Katsu and Sasuke, there was one night where they went to a games center and played Beat Saber. Maybe someday I'll go back and write it as a short story.

Again, thank you for asking. It's always fun to revisit this stuff, especially when I'm in the middle of breaking a new story and feel frustrated during the moments where I'm stuck. Helps to remember that the first draft is always messy and will change.