#she's never thought she finally mattered to Harrow and then had her love and life rejected

[huenation]

who you are / csb

word count: 3,180

genre: soft angst, fluff, slice-of-life

warnings: not much happens in this and it’s almost a vent piece so you probably wont love this — mentions of nervousness, family issues, mc has a big family

synopsis: when soobin finally meets your family, he learns something about you (and he can’t help but love you more)

soundtrack: lovelovelove by baek yerin and can’t you see (acoustic) by matthew and the atlas

soobin is never home on weekdays in the mornings because of work, happily assisting the newbies at his barista job, since he’s been working there for three years now. he didn’t remember what nine am’s in his home looked like until now. he paces his hallway, awaiting your text message to let him know you’re outside to pick him up. it’s the big day after all, the one where he meets your family.

it’s been roughly eleven months since you both started dating and you’d just been introduced to soobin’s family a week earlier from now at a brunch. his sister and brother had finally decided to both visit his family home at the same time. despite the great harrowing pill of trepidation taken at meeting your boyfriend’s family, they had been so graciously welcoming and accepting of you. their questions were mere softballs, compliments and genuine interest in you that didn’t at all feel too much. you and soobin are familiar with the weight of stares, certain tones, and body language.

you had understood that floods of words could be conveyed through touch. being held by his family, a gripping hug, tearful thank you’s told you everything. it just meant a lot of love. soobin’s parents had embraced you so tightly that night, his mom more than kind and thankful when she held your hands and told you how special her son was to her, how dear you were to him and for that, she thought of you that much as well.

it all made sense that night on the drive home — it made you comfortable, knowing and seeing how soobin was raised well and so loved. he’s his own guy, but he is definitely a fragment of all those around him: infinitely precious.

so, when time allowed for him to meet your own family, despite the fear of jumping off your comfortable cloud into oblivion, you and he felt it was time. sure, he was beyond nervous when you both agreed to today as he’s currently anxious out of his mind, but you are, too. eye twitches, shivers, and that swirling pit in your stomach are all little footprints of this feeling.

really, as long as you have each other, just the knowing of it, that’s what matters.

he feels his phone vibrate and your contact name and picture pop up from a message that lets him know you’re outside. a small grin sprouts between his dimples at the sight of that photo. in it, you’re wearing his hoodie with the hood over your head so only your mouth is showing, a big smile worn. of course he had to set his contact photo as that. your contact name has your name with a single white heart.

just by seeing it, thinking of you… this warm feeling washes over his freezing shivers that wrack him from anxiety. you melt it away. you make a typo in your message as he’s already exiting his place, meeting you, stepping in your car, greeting you with a gentle but wide hug, kissing your cheek and thumbing the ends of your pretty eyelashes.

so, even if he’s nervous, you were able to do it, and it is about time, after all. he can do it. he holds your hand the entire way.

amazingly enough, the drive draws his anxieties away, your hand in his, and far too distracted by your chatter and the way his legs must bend to fit in your passenger seat. you chat about work or school, or something an online player from his game did that was funny, even jamming out to your shared playlist. but then when you start slowing down, pulling into a street, hitting stop signs, it gets quiet.

“we’re acting like we’re going to the police station…” you point out, sharing a little laugh with your boyfriend, whose eyes are bouncing around as they always do. there’s lots of cars down this specific street. it’s why you have to park just a little ways to your destination, beside the curb, soobin gaping at the environment and litter of cars that definitely signifies there’s a lot of people inside. the growing clamminess in his palms only intensifies.

“soobin, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, baby,” your small flame of reassurance has him turning back to you, a crease between his eyebrows and a pout on his cute lips. you have this effect; the world can start spinning far beyond a speed he can keep up with, but there you go, slowing things down. “what?” his question comes out a lot louder than intended, making you both laugh. “i wanna do this… i’m just nervous is all. that’s normal. i’ll be fine, babe.” you don’t seem satisfied with that, nodding and trying to smile it off. he sighs, deflating into the seat.

“i just… i don’t want to leave a bad impression on your family.” he mumbles, ears growing crimson. you coo and he scoffs a little, fake annoyance at your touched reaction. soobin’s legs are folded, knees pulled up high from his great height, but they also surround a gorgeous bouquet of flowers that sit in a timeless vase he bought. those familiar, luscious gardens are so full, you can even catch a glimpse of their edges and you’re down the street from them. all in all, it’s a very sweet gesture — you paid witness to him tracking down multiple florists and online shopping for a pretty vase.

“that’s how i felt about your family! and look what happened? i’m still alive and it’ll be the same for you!” you wrap your hands around his bicep in an effort to warm him up. your cheek presses on his shoulder. his head angles down and your eyes lock. oh he’s a very weak man when it comes to you.

“that’s not fair!”

“what is?”

he exhales, eyes dropping to your steering wheel.

“no one could hate you. you’re basically perfect!”

and if you’d been an anime character, your nose would’ve for sure bled. it’s silly how he thinks this way of you when he’s got it flipped. he doesn’t even know how special and loved and wonderful he is. to you, at the very least.

after giving soobin a few more moments to prepare, you both unload your car once he feels ready to enter.

he watches with rapture at the way you look around at what he is seeing for the first time. it’s different the way you do it. you look at things with familiarity and this far away look that can’t decide itself between nostalgia or simple history. soobin’s heart thumps something harder because he’s about to see who you came from and how you came to be.

the door opens once you knock and there’s a few kids lingering in the hallway, waving at you, staring a little too long at soobin. you introduce them as your younger cousins, and all hell breaks loose once you tell them it’s your boyfriend. soobin’s eyes grow so big at their loud excited voices, all asking questions about his height, if he loves you, if he has a lot of money, et cetera — all silly questions that feel like practice runs for when it comes to the adults. he allows himself to be shy, to stutter and make mistakes, expecting harsh reactions for doing so but your girl cousins simply coo and call him cute. the boys ask if he plays any games and right when an interesting conversation is about to start, you hear your mom’s voice before she makes her way over to you, grinning ear to ear.

looking down at others physically-wise is not new to him. he’s just been tall since he could remember, shy, too, might he add, so standing out isn’t a new concept. however, now as he meets your mom and slowly the rest of your immediate family bleed into the living room, he feels so exposed and naked, watching from above, like he can’t control his real body. he finds himself particularly scared. what grounds him is the way you hold his hand or link arms with him, turning your head all the way to face him, smiling at him like you’re the only two here. the littlest contact does wonders for him.

all good?

your eyes deliver this message in the shadows. his dimples flex.

all good.

for the first hour or so, it’s just introductions and endless flow of compliments. all your relatives call him cute, handsome, charming, and oh so very tall. he hides his blushes as best he can despite towering over you. everyone’s having dinner by the time you and he arrive, so you just assume your plates and eat at your own little table, talking and fighting the nervous sweats. soobin finds that the new foods he’s trying seem to distract him with how good they taste.

then, it gets a little… soobin doesn’t know how to put it. nor did he think it was his place to have an opinion. well, at least at first. one by one, some cousins and relatives come by to your table to get to know more about soobin. he gets flustered easily, so it was expected that he wouldn’t be able to handle everything perfectly. but, he did, not that he had a choice. you would be speaking for him, but they would cut you off, demanding he answer instead. you’d seemed flustered, apologizing, squeezing his palm and looking at him expectantly.

it became more than that.

soobin might not know the ins and outs of girl talk and well, the inner workings of your family, but he senses the backhandedness of the constant surprise your family members show at seeing you together. they choose their words incisively. his heart aches for you when they do so. your mom even jovially points out your flaws to contrast his strong points he’s only revealed to answer their question.

you just fight it off with an embarrassed grin, gripping onto soobin’s big hand from under the table.

there’s no place to try to even talk about what’s going on. not without any prying eyes following you or him. he has no ill feelings — well, maybe a little — towards your family, but he doesn’t understand why it is the way it is.

it’s getting awfully late, the party definitely running on momentum to carry on past the dead hours of the night, and you know it’s more than ready to begin bidding goodbyes. you rise from your chair, sparing soobin a tight smile, excusing yourself from your parents first before making any moves with soobin.

leaving seems a lost cause when you keep getting pulled aside by a relative or two. right when each conversation is done, your mom is calling you over to the kitchen to take leftovers. as you should.

it’s when he’s briefly alone, a few family members turn to him, simple questions on their tongue. his heart beats so fast and irregularly, but he somehow finds the strength to ask a few questions.

all he gets is one in, and somehow it is enough to answer a lot.

what were you like as a child?

he is met with inconsistencies or things that seem to be the opposite of you. they fumble softball questions, so obviously unaware of your hobbies, your favorite color, your passions, drawing assumptions of your character on the way they treated you as a kid. soobin smiles and nods, internally confirming his previous thoughts, though it makes his stomach ache at the thought of it.

sunshine comes around the corner in the form of you, speeding over with a large tupperware of food, nearly tripping with the bustling kids running around without care. your smile is stretched so big and he knows more than anything that it’s because you can’t wait to get out of there.

instead of excusing yourself individually from everyone with soobin like you’re supposed to, you both just get up and head to the door, waving and giving one big verbal goodbye. soobin holds the tupperware for you in one hand and he has your purse hanging over his shoulder, bowing his head a few times and smiling while you wave and keep saying bye until the door shuts behind you. you deflate with relief once it does that.

the walk to the car is quiet. both of your stomachs are turning with anxiety because you kinda do have to talk about it.

soobin opens the passenger car door, setting the bins down on the seat before closing, turning to face you as you lean on the car next to him. he moves away so, you can lean on where he was standing.

he can’t really let it go. they don’t even know you. maybe you gave them the opportunity to, while you grew up, maybe you didn’t. but, you just now are old enough, their lack of empathy and familiarity a result of their own carelessness. you were just a kid.

soobin turns on his heel to face you. his shoe twists the gravel beneath, dull against the incoherent beats of crickets chirping and cicadas buzzing. the streetlight above attracts a few fluttering moths, dim in its function, enough for fireflies to float around in the air. the world moves around you both, never pausing for either of you to try and catch your breath. literally. it spins on its axis at 1,000 miles per hour.

it is pretty baffling when he thinks about it. the way you do so much for him, calming down his faint heart, and his chest clenches at the annoyed urge that he can’t have the same or a better reciprocation of providing shelter, happiness, and love.

your eyes are still stuck on your dress shoes, head hanging low and back slumped against the passenger door of the car.

“sorry, you had to see all that.” you finally manage, moving upwards to look at him with a humorous smile.

the world moves fast regardless of what happens. soobin doesn’t know why he gets so hung up on the mountains he can’t move.

he blinks down at you, watching the way your curtain of eyelashes reflect a shine from the lamp post near you, fingers twiddling in real time at the speed of your thoughts. you are everything to soobin. he loves you and declares himself the happiest person ever being with you. isn’t that enough?

there’s a lot he knows he can’t do. but one thing is sure, he loves you endlessly.

“don’t be sorry, babe,” he takes another step closer to you, smile widening and at that, your mouth follows his expression. like magic, lighting a flame in his heart and tummy, your hands reach up towards his, and without sparing another moment, he takes them in his hands. you intertwine your fingers, moving your wrists a little, hands playing around.

there’s a part of him, wide and conquering, that has him unsure of what to say, no room to figure out the best thing to open up with or explain what unfolded. you yourself look overwhelmed with this very burden. even if your smiles say otherwise.

he makes a little noise that is somewhere between a gasp and a hum before sealing the proximity. soobin slides next to you against the car and gently rounds his arms over you, pulling you in for a hug that knows no end to comfort. he curls his hand in your hair. his fingers stroke softly through the area closest to your temple and your own hand fists into his clothes. a kiss is pressed to your crown and your eyes sting.

the crickets chirp so loudly around you. the bass of the muffled music booms from the inside, but it doesn’t reach your ears. he kisses again this time with an audible pucker, making you snicker into his bicep. your hand shifts up to drift over it. you wrap up in each other like two snakes on a caduceus.

soobin is so thankful you let him in to your little world, even if it meant you nicked yourself while opening the door to your background. it adds up as to why you’re so resilient and strong, characteristics he could only dream of being able to call himself. he thanks you for allowing him the honor to knowing you, understanding you, and loving you. the people you consider family don’t know you one bit, but he feels lucky because you let him know you. and you are so beautiful. he has to blink aggressively so as to will the stinging tears away.

“do you think your parents liked me?” he murmurs and you snort, angling your head to now face up at him.

“soob,” your tone is in warning, but he knows you’re joking. “you know they loved you.” with that answer, you reach up and stretch to peck the corner of his lips.

“and your family, too?”

“especially my family.” you chuckle, feeling the fabric of his sleeve. soobin holds back a sigh. guilt and a sort of odd tension bubbles in his gut.

“thank you for letting me meet them,” he mumbles against your hair. you hum out a response, but it mainly comes out as an acknowledgment. “now, i know we have tupperwares of food, but what if…?” you can hear his smile.

“what if we go get mcdonald’s and watch a show while we snuggle?” at the last word, soobin brings you closer in his chest, laughing at your muffled yelp and own laughter.

you angle your head to peck a kiss to his wrist, looking up at him and he is already gazing down at you, eyes full of love.

your heart races just a bit at the excitement but also because you know you are due to talk about how you felt during the dinner. the drive home is going to be filled with your favorite songs, you and your boyfriend singing along to the lyrics while the other one talks or comments on tonight. soobin drives this time, ordering and picking up the food, your order memorized. you feed him some ice cream while practically downing your own. once the show is on, food is settled, you and him are wrapped up in blankets. you bring it up on your own accord, talking about how your family made you feel and how you already would rather spend heaps of more time with soobin’s than your own. soobin will stay quiet for a bit, hand rubbing your back in circles until he tears up, making you tear up, leaving you two to have quite a heart to heart. the forecast has already played out, but it doesn’t matter; none of it does since you have soobin and he makes you so happy. so, you pull away, giving him a big smile, which makes him light up like a star, and say,

“i’d want nothing more.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

ending note: if you have any ideas or requests that have actual plots and want to spare me one and do me a favor, please hit me up T_T i feel like i give you guys nothing and i’m so sorry,,, if you made it to the end, thank you 🙏

[lau219]

Hope

Part 1

…………………………………………………………………………….

​It had been eight months that they’d been living like this, all together in the cramped little apartment, taking turns sleeping on the one bed, using the one bath, making meals each day. And as unnatural as the entire situation was, it grew to feel somewhat normal and domestic, like one big, mismatched family. They’d been thrown together without any prior knowledge of each other, but the time together had allowed for a closeness to form amongst them all. It served the situation well, as any onlookers and bystanders were easily convinced that the two couples were meant to be together. Little did anyone know that they were all a part of this harrowing situation.

​But there was a big part of her that didn’t want it to be an act. She kept this a secret, of course, not even sharing with Marie how she felt. But over the course of the last eight months, a warmth and devotion towards Josef had grown within her, and that soon grew even more into what she was afraid was love. Every time she allowed herself to acknowledge it, she just as quickly admonished herself. How could she be so foolish as to let herself have these feelings? This situation was fabricated, and not permanent, and, in the most basic form, it was an act. She had been a part of similar situations before, albeit not quite as lengthy or involved, but never had she ever let emotion cloud her. Until now.

​It wasn’t just one thing; it was everything about him. Quiet, stoic, and intense, he was always reserved and practical, but he was also thoughtful, kind, and ever the gentleman. He was dedicated and focused, and at first glance, one might think enough experiences had caused him to be hardened, as he gave little away. But over time, she had come to learn him, to understand his looks and his body language. He was hardened, in fact, but not by what he’d been through, exactly. Moreso, it was the fact that he’d had to go through any of it at all. He was sad. Sad that this was the life he had to live, that any chance of normalcy had been robbed from him long ago. She could tell that each day, he functioned somewhat on automatic, trying to ignore the fact that this was what his life was. And it hurt so much to watch because he was such a good man.

​He didn’t deserve that, she thought. None of them did. When it came down to it, they’d all been forced into this life, unaware of how much it would consume them and chart their courses for them. Had any of them known, they’d never have agreed to be involved in the first place. But war brought about all kinds of scenarios that no one would have ever dreamed of, and it would be a safe bet to say that their former selves would never recognize the people they were today.

​Yet, she always remained hopeful. Hopeful that this would one day end, that normalcy, or some sense of it, could be hers again – could be for everyone. She refused to let herself completely resign to the idea that her life could end this way. And she tried so hard to make others believe the same. As she and Josef would walk together, she’d insert a hopeful remark here and there, trying to lighten the weight he carried that was always felt but never seen. When he’d talk about things he’d hoped for as a younger man, he always said it with the finality that it would never be. She couldn’t bear to hear it, and so she’d do as much as she could to try and bring a smile to his face, to offer him hope. She willed him to believe it, but she had the fear that she hadn’t been successful.

​At the same time, though, she did her best not to overstep. She knew she had no right to project anything onto him, and outside of the occasional times when they got more personal, she did her best to mind her own business. The less she provoked, the better, she thought. Just let them be, she thought. She again reminded herself that she had no right to be a part of their real lives.

​However, no matter how much she’d reminded herself of that, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from falling for him, and she felt ashamed for letting it happen. He was everything she could want, and she found herself daydreaming of another world, one in which they’d met naturally, where his handsome face wasn’t always tinged with sadness, and where he chose to be around her because he wanted to be, not because he had to be. Of course, he’d never made her feel as if he didn’t want her around, but it wasn’t as if any of them had a choice. But there were times when, for the briefest moments, she’d catch him looking at her in a way that made her heart forget their situation, that felt like he saw her as she hoped he would. In those moments, she’d had to stop herself from reaching for him.

​She had awoken that day with a new resolve to ignore it all and simply focus on the task at hand. It had been easy enough earlier in the day, as she and Marie had been away from the apartment all day to retrieve information from various intel sources. They’d even had a scare when gunfire had rung out at a storefront as they’d walked by, but it turned out to be from a disagreement between two shop owners, one of which apparently lost his temper. Her heart had raced as they’d thrown themselves to the ground, and it seemed almost comical now that she was unscathed.

​When she and Marie had arrived back at the apartment, both Josef and Jan immediately jumped from their chairs where they’d been sitting at the small dining table, having heard about what happened. Marie and Jan had rushed to each other, meeting in the middle of the room for a heated embrace, yet she stayed at the doorway. After watching them for a moment, she felt Josef’s eyes on her, and when she looked to him, his expression was one she couldn’t read. He almost seemed to be, dare she say, restraining himself, and her heart pounded when he opened his mouth to speak. But almost immediately, he decided against it, and she simply gave him a small nod before turning back around to remove her coat and hat. She then went to the bathroom to splash some water on her face before excusing herself to go downstairs to the landlady’s apartment.

​She was grateful she had agreed to watch the woman’s small grandbaby for a few hours, needing the distraction. She had hoped to have Marie for emotional support after all they’d been through that day, but as she carried the baby back into the apartment, she found her and Jan putting on their coats and heading for the door she’d just come through.

​“There’s a band playing at the pub down the street,” Marie explained as they stopped on their way out. “Won’t you come with us?”

​She said nothing, simply gesturing to the baby on her hip.

​“Why on Earth did you agree to that?” Marie asked. “How long?”

​“It’s only for a couple of hours,” she responded. “For all that woman has done for us, the least I could do was allow her a short time’s peace to visit her husband at the hospital. Besides, it will be nice to have a little lightheartedness around here.” She looked at all of them, including Josef, who stood in the kitchen, leaning against the sink. “I think I may cry if I have to spend another night around all of you.”

​They all had laughed, but she noticed how Josef’s expression had quickly returned to a serious one. Although she’d turned away, she could still feel his eyes on her as she’d said goodbye to Marie, waving the baby’s small hand at her and Jan as they’d rushed down the stairs. She had then closed her eyes briefly and silently inhaled a deep breath, steeling herself before closing the door and turning around. Josef was likely highly annoyed that a baby would be disrupting his evening.

​“You didn’t care to join them?” she’d asked him.

​“No,” he’d replied simply, still standing across the room.

​“Well, I’m sorry to do this to you,” she apologized. “I thought for certain that I would be alone, or at least that it would only be Marie and myself. I didn’t mean to disrupt your evening.”

​“It’s fine,” he’d replied, and when the baby suddenly cooed and grabbed her finger with a squeal, the hint of a smile spread across his face as he watched her laugh.

​“It suits you,” he said, looking between her and the baby.

​Her eyes shot to him at his words, a blush dancing across her cheeks as their eyes met. The moment felt suffocatingly intimate, and she had to look away from him. Fortunately, the baby was making enough noise to keep away an awkward silence, and when he stretched his arms out towards Josef, she smiled.

​“I think someone likes you,” she said to Josef, allowing herself to look at him again. “Would you like to hold him?”

​A look of hesitancy crossed his face, and he didn’t move away from the sink. Nevertheless, she walked to him with the baby, stopping in front of him and smiling.

​“Go on,” she encouraged him quietly. “It will be good for you.”

​Josef glanced at her again briefly before looking down at the baby. She shifted him in her arms and then passed him to Josef, who gave one more look of uncertainty before awkwardly taking him from her. Their bodies brushed as she helped him adjust the baby, and she guided his hands to where best to hold him. After a moment of awkwardness, Josef seemed to (almost) happily surrender to the situation, and when she saw the two of them smile at each other, she physically had to turn around and look away, the entire sight being too much to take. But when the baby squealed again, she turned back around.

​“Alright, let’s take you in the other room, shall we?” she said to the baby, not allowing herself to look at Josef again. Keeping her eyes lowered, she gently took the baby from him and turned around, walking into the sitting room and making the baby comfortable on the floor.

​The few hours passed without incident, and she managed to keep the baby happy and entertained, singing to him and making him laugh, bouncing him on her lap or walking around the room with him. Not once did she let herself look beyond the room for Josef, and, in fact, he’d been so quiet that by the time the landlady had knocked on the door to retrieve the baby, she’d nearly forgotten he was there. She chatted with the landlady at the door for several minutes before stepping back inside and closing the door. As she turned into the kitchen, her eyes met Josef’s, who was standing near the sink again, watching her. Her heart pounded, but rather than indulging herself in foolish thoughts, she headed towards the bedroom, grateful for the distraction of the baby’s extra blanket that the landlady had left behind. She’d return it to her tomorrow, she thought, and she picked it up off the bed and carefully began folding it. But soon, the sound of Josef stopping at the door caused her heart to skip a beat.

​“In another life, I’d make you my wife,” he said quietly.

​Her heart completely stopped, and when she turned around and met his eyes, she briefly forgot how to breathe.

​“What?” she whispered, hardly able to form the word.

​He stepped the rest of the way into the room, stopping in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers.

​“In another place, in another time, I would make you my wife,” he repeated. “You would be mine. You would have my children. And you’d let me love you.”

​She could hardly comprehend what he was saying, her blood pounding in her ears as she looked at him. Yet, she couldn’t stop her own words that came next.

​“I would never have to let you,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “I would willingly be yours...in an instant.”

​Josef’s jaw clenched as he reached for her, his hand slipping behind her neck and gripping it firmly with possession.

​“You would?” he asked.

​“I am,” she replied. “I’m yours.”

​He shook his head, stroking the back of her neck as he pulled her closer.

​“Not here, not now. It’s been taken from us.”

​“No, Josef,” she said as she shook her head, tears silently running down her cheeks. “It can happen. Here and beyond.” She raised her hands and gripped his shirt. “You speak so certainly about impossibility. What about the opposite? You have to have hope, Josef. Don’t live as if you’re already dead. Please!”

​Looking down into her eyes, he slipped his hands to her cheeks, cradling her face. His eyes were full of love and heartache. With the direction his life had taken, never did he expect to find a woman like this. A woman so full of love and compassion, yet so strong and resilient. Someone who had every reason to be mad at the world, but instead was full of light and kindness and beauty, and who grasped at hope. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to find her, resigned to the fact that his life couldn’t be that way, and that it would in all likelihood be cut short at any moment. What was the point of love if it was met with death? But she had made her way into his heart against all odds.

​Pulling her even closer, he closed his eyes tightly and rested his forehead against hers. For the first time, he allowed himself the tiniest sliver of hope for beyond all this. Hope for a life with her in his arms. A life where the good swept away the bad.

​“I love you,” he whispered to her.

​Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and stroked his hair.

​“I love you,” she echoed back to him. “So much that it hurts. But we have to believe that there’s a future beyond all this. We have to.” She pulled back enough to look at him, touching his cheek as he continued to hold her.

​“Make me,” he said as he looked into her eyes. “Make me believe.”

​When their lips met, her knees buckled, and Josef held her against him as they both became lost in each other. Hope, love, and desire rendered each of them helpless, and as they made love, time seemed to stand still, their bodies and their emotions connecting in a painfully beautiful way. When the room fell silent, Josef held her against him as she drifted off to sleep. As the light of the moon shone through the small window and highlighted her beautiful face, he clung to her tighter. Clung to her, and to hope. The hope that, somehow, they would come out of all this on the other side. Together.

Part 2

@neonpurplestars89-blog

[down-a-dark-allie-way]

DATV - Fanpanion

(possibly thinking of building a little compendium of Dragon Age Fan-tasy. Ha! Get it?)

“To see nothing but, evil. Feel nothing but, the bad and to still choose to do good - that is what makes you good. And, to do that again, makes you the best of us, kid.” - Varric Tethras

‘I have nothing to fear of demons. They think I am one of them.’ - Winnow

Winnow was found within the tall walls of the Kirkwall circle. They weren’t born when the fight between Knight Commander Meredith and Grant Enchanter Orsino came to an explosive conclusion. Years later, Winnow was discovered by a templar knight within the Gallows, but there was no person who would claim the rosy-cheeked babe as their own. It wasn’t uncommon for fearful parents to drop off their children. Mages also would have children within the Circle and abandon them, afraid of the consequences.

Winnow would be declared an orphan and made a ward of the Kirkwall Circle.

Their early years were to put it simply, chaotic. New laws and reforms were introduced then rescinded constantly. Despite a wealth of good intensions, change was slow and imperfect, as it always is. No matter what was implemented, a circle would never be a place where children should grow up, but it would continue to be.

Winnow was raised by a combination of templars, circle mages and chantry sisters. Never anyone long enough to be called family. Because Winnow’s parentage was unknown, they were marked as a potential mage, meaning no leaving the circle, no adoption, no chance.

While coming of age, Winnow was educated by the Chantry and Melody, a circle mage with a delicate disposition. They were a quick learner and wanted praise more than anything else. Unlike many others within the walls, Winnow was content, even happy at times. They had known no other life.

Difficult at times, but a good life nonetheless. Until they neared their harrowing. There was little record keeping in Kirkwall, even as the resilient city rebuilt, and the chaos dimmed. Because of this, no one knows if Winnow even, displayed any magic abilities prior to their trial. Regardless, the templars claimed Winnow had failed their harrowing, which meant they were to be made tranquil.

Melody fought tooth and nail. Winnow was so young, and they had grown up in the Circle, followed every rule and condition. How did they fail? No. No. Melody rallied the Circle mages and, well now it looked to much like the rebellion a few years ago. Templar justice is rarely right but, it is swift. The mages were confined to quarters. No news in or out. Not easily dissuaded, Melody decided extreme situations called for extreme action. Winnow was her family.

The things we do for love.

She managed to sneak past the guard and, out of desperation and affection she threw herself from the Gallows wall into the merchant courtyard. Melody died on impact but, she would speak from beyond the grave. Melody carved Winnow’s story into her still bleeding back. It finally reached the ears of those who could help. That was the last thought she had before slipping into darkness.

‘Child to be made Tranquil!’

‘Monster child, no parents. Demon?!?!’

‘Rite of Tranquility is the Right of Man’

‘Magic should not be a sentence’

The debate echoed through every alleyway in Kirkwall. However, the people were reticent to fight the Order without their Viscount. They had just reassembled the city with what broken pieces were salvaged after the civil war. Would this cause another one?

It was such bad luck that Varric had been away. By the time he learned about Winnow, he was too late.

Or should we say, half too late.

Varric managed to interrupt the ritual, leaving the tranquility half completed. Winnow’s positive emotions had been sealed away but, the negative remained. When Varric told the child he fate of their friend Melody, Winnow just trembled holding onto Varric like he were driftwood in a storm on the water. It wasn’t fair. He was so sorry. Varric needed to stop taking in strays but, he felt responsible. Had he just attended to his duties as Viscount, instead of chasing Solas, maybe he would have stopped all of this from happening.

Varric demanded Divine Victoria undo the Rite placed on Winnow. They had discovered the reversal. Consequences be damned. It was the right thing to do. The Divine was focusing on the bigger picture and the stability they had just put together. Divine Victoria said no. This would be the last straw, and the last time the two would speak.

Winnow was taken in by Varric. They reminded him of Cole in some ways. Odd. Monotone. Curious. Somehow despite it all, kind. They had deserved so much better. Winnow would work as Varric’s editor learning of the world through his stories. Varric also taught the kid all of his roguish talents. The question of magic hung in the air but, Winnow didn’t seem open to the discussion so Varric left it at that.

Varric would seek out Dorian, who also felt kinship with the mistreated youth. While still busy with magister duties, Dorian did what he could to research possible cures and took care of the child when Varric needed to go on exceedingly dangerous missions. Winnow argued they were better suited at Varric’s side and that argument worked most of the time. They were talented and careful.

The kid excelled with the determination only seen in tranquil given purpose. Winnow seemed to be one with darkness. They would blend into nothingness to gather intel and steal from the unworthy. Winnow was a talented rogue, especially when confronted with Tevinter mages using demons. After all, Winnow was just singular negativity. The demons thought Winnow was one of them.

This let Winnow gain access to areas normally swarming with demons, in and outside the fade. They also documented everything they saw. Demon behavior. Demon types. They were set to becoming the foremost expert on demons in Thedas. Not that, there was a ton of competition.

Varric swore he would do right by the kid. Once this thing with Solas was all over, Winnow would have Varric’s full attention. He promised. He had promised.

[lavathein]

About the final in episode 6

"I'm going to be objective. Because I'm a fan of Loki for 10 years, and I've been waiting for a series about him. I didn't ask them to make him like this, I didn't expect this outcome. If you're curious - I was afraid of a romantic storyline, because I thought they wouldn't pull it off. And Season 1 seemed to prove me wrong. I'm in love with this series. I liked all the characters in this series, Sylvie, Mobius... Everyone. And I believed that this season wanted to tell me something. Loki found a friend - Mobius. Loki fell in love with Sylvie, and she with him. It was a good story, and I won't dwell on it. I'll move on to the finale.

Episode 6 season 1:

Loki and Sylvie go to the Citadel at the End of Time to meet with He Who Remains. And here a conflict arises - the resolution of which I've been waiting for 2 years. And not just me...

He Who Remains tells them about the Sacred Timeline and the Problem they cannot avoid. He gives them a choice: either they kill him, or they take his place. I'll remind you, neither of them wants the throne; they wanted to be together on the Timeline and live their lives. Sylvie had this goal long before Loki, and for her, it's not just a goal; it's a very long and tragic path to avenge her ruined life. For Loki, no, he just wants to be happy. Sylvie sees a monster in front of her that needs to be destroyed. Loki sees a trap they skillfully want to lead them into. They are both right. But Loki understands that they can't just walk away, and something terrible may happen. He doesn't know what to choose, but he doesn't like the choice they are given.

They have different thoughts on this matter. Then Sylvie says, 'Kill me and take your throne' - this is important because she immediately makes it clear that she would rather die than leave this person alive. In other words, 'either I kill him, or you (Loki) kill me.' Loki truly loves her, as clearly shown in Season 1, and of course, he has no intention of killing her. And he is sincere when he says, 'I just want you to be okay.' Sylvie loves him just as much, but he is not on her side and also makes it clear that he will not back down. They are in a situation where they cannot resolve it together. Sylvie kisses him goodbye and pushes him away - it's a choice she decides to make so that they don't harm each other even more. It was very powerful, beautiful, and profound in my opinion. Because here's the situation, here they find themselves, and a conflict unfolds."

They don't talk about it in season 2:

And now, what happens next? Loki searches for her, wants to bring her back and seemingly figure out the situation? He fails because Sylvie doesn't understand his motivation - the throne? TVA? Was he deceiving her or genuinely caring or loving? Does she know about it?

I liked how in Season 2, even through the conflict, there were hints that they care about each other. They don't blame each other for the Citadel situation; Sylvie agrees to talk with him, although she could have said 'No, I don't care, go away' - no, she goes, she doesn't like the TVA topic, but when something is in danger, she also goes and helps. And again, they continue to learn something from each other, even without looking at the conflict. These are good moments in Season 2, but really... What is their conflict?

In the misunderstanding of each other and in the fact that each made a difficult choice. But did they do something wrong to each other? No. They can't be enemies. They don't talk about the situation in the Citadel at all. Throughout Season 2. There's a similar situation at the fair, where it's clear that this topic is painful and unpleasant for them. Okay. But they don't talk about it. Never. - Why?

Season 2 finale… what's the point?

Final of the 6th episode. Okay. What's the catch, so to speak? Loki has gone through a very harrowing journey from the finale of Season 1 Episode 6 to the finale of Season 2. What has he realized? He learned to TimeSlipping - as I thought, all of this was part of the plan of He Who Remains. It led to him trapping them and attempting to divide by undermining trust between them. Okay.

What's the problem? The weaving loom is impossible to fix. Either it will defend the One Sacred Timeline, and all branches will have to be pruned and killed, or the Timeline will be free, and at some point, it will start self-destructing. In other words… there's no point in choosing the right thing at all. If he stops Sylvie - He Who Remains will continue doing what he did, but Sylvie will likely die rather than agree to it - a ruined life, continued killing, she just won't be able to forgive it. If she kills He Who Remains, we see what happens - the weaving loom overloads, and ultimately, everyone dies. But… even if they both (Together) come to the conclusion that, yes, He Who Remains needs to be killed - it leads to the same result. In other words, it's impossible to fix it without the sacrifice Loki makes in the end. I want to say - there's just no other way. The situation is hopeless no matter what he chooses, except for the option where he kills Sylvie and leaves everything as it was. But he won't do that because he loves her, and he said that in the Season 1 finale - 'I just want you to be okay.'

Now the question, so what's wrong with the finale of Season 2? It seems logical… NO. Not entirely. In reality… No. They don't talk about their feelings. They don't talk about what happened in the Citadel; they don't… Haven't they reconciled? Haven't they said goodbye? Understand correctly, they show in Season 1 - they fell in love with each other, for them, it's the first time, and it's something real. It breaks reality; it helps them understand many things; they, for the first time, think not only about themselves. Then a conflict arises. Sylvie - 'I just need to kill the monster who ruined my life,' and Loki - 'I just need you to be okay' - In 6 episodes, there was no opportunity to talk about it and reconcile? To understand each other and realize that they weren't lying and genuinely cared about each other? Loki doesn't even have the chance to find out if that kiss was real, and he has to go to sacrifice with this silence? I don't understand this…

Destroying is - Easy:

Okay, let the finale be like that, I agree, it's beautiful, it's tragic, and it's sad, but why should it happen on such a bad note for these two characters who were portrayed as truly in love until now? It's like we're pretending - that this is how we remember what happened in Season 1, and what Loki is doing now seems to respond... But I'm not sure it should have ended like this. And I'm not talking about the characters; I'm talking about the scriptwriting. It's just discarded - an unresolved conflict.

I'm really disappointed with this part. It feels like the writers got scared and went the route of 'We'd rather ruin than fix what happened.' The scene in the Citadel starts to seem like a joke, where Loki can't do anything different, and she, like a bull seeing red, charges at He Who Remains... And then they literally say, 'Sylvie, sorry, but you're getting in the way, disappear somewhere' - What the hell was that? I remembered fans who loved to shout, 'Sylvie is Loki's competitor, just get rid of her' - it's so absurd, as if she doesn't matter... It's like spitting on the previous development and work because what happens to Loki - everything happened to him because of her. What happens in the series, the freed Timeline - it also concerned her. And now one Loki takes it all upon himself? It looks so ugly and weak, honestly. As if you're not even trying to hide that you're just getting rid of the character from the path... When so much could have been made into a very powerful story that would be more beautiful and stronger. I repeat once again - with the same conclusion. But it would have been just BETTER and more fitting in this story.

I'm just saying, for me, Season 2 didn't handle the conflict that Season 1 gave us. You may like Season 1. You may like Season 2. That's okay. But if you look at it as one story, there are so many questions (several thousand) that you still haven't received answers to or just left it - well, it happened, but it led nowhere. I am very saddened because indeed, the 6 episodes look beautiful, seemingly deep, but when you start to analyze it - No, they still messed it up and didn't cope with the task.

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

4

Seventh skull... that bodes well; everyone we've ever met from the Seventh is dead, and we are firmly in the realm of the living.

The plants filtered out some of the clinging smoke, and Nona loved to look at the trees and the bristly, curving shapes of the shrubs and bushes.

Me too, Nona. Sounds like you don't have a lot of plants there.

Another place had been cleared and ineptly concreted over, and they put the cages there. The cages were bone-cold and they’d been almost fully cleaned, but Nona didn’t like looking,

Cages... for what, Nona?? Or... for whom???

Then the teacher said, unexpectedly: “Hot Sauce is here too.” Not even the teacher knew Hot Sauce’s real name. Nona said, “That’s early.” “Yes. I asked her why, but she wouldn’t say. Check on her, won’t you?” As though Nona could check on Hot Sauce. “I’m worried about her, living alone. I’ve tried to tell her about the sheltered accommodation, but she’s too independent…”

We're finally getting to see Nona at school!

Honestly, I'm with the teacher on this one. As much as Hot Sauce is a leader and independent and all of that, she's also an orphan of like, fourteen.

Hot Sauce said, “Don’t let them see you from the window.” “Who’s watching?” “Don’t know. Green building. Fourth floor.” Nona was smart enough to catch herself getting up to look, which she privately congratulated herself upon.

Someone is watching. Hot Sauce doesn't think they're watching for Nona, but you can never be sure with these things. For all we know, the Emperor and/or Blood of Eden have lost track of Harrow's body and might very much like to get it back, no matter who is currently residing in it.

But Nona is so precious. I love her. She's so bright and full of love for plants and animals and people around her and herself. Have I mentioned that she's precious and that I love her?

Hot Sauce’s failure to ask anyone’s opinion on anything she did was probably the reason she was the unquestioned authority in the school, over and above the teachers. Nona had told Palamedes about it and Palamedes had said, Lead researcher material, certainly.

Lol, having worked in research, this is most certainly a diss against some kind of lead researcher Palamedes has worked with in the past. Maybe even himself.

She was a gallant little person of fortyish who gave the impression that she had learnt a lot early in life and discovered late that it was no real good to her or anyone else. This lent her teaching a weightless, secretive feeling, like it was really all for fun at the end of the day.

We meet "the Angel" for the first time properly, and this whole thing is a big mood. Same, Angel.

Nothing Pyrrha drank could really hurt her. She had even drunk the contents of the bleach bottle once. When Palamedes had asked why, Pyrrha said she had realised she wasn’t used to being tortured while immortal and wanted to get a head start, and Palamedes said bullshit because he thought Nona had not been listening. Nona wondered if the Angel had been drinking too, albeit not bleach, which had given Pyrrha some sensational hiccups.

Hold on. Pyrrha drank bleach?? Is she. Is she okay?

I mean, if you think about it, she's really not; she's stuck in Gideon the First's body, Gideon is dead, all Pyrrha's friends are dead, and she can't go back to the Emperor, and she can't go to the Blood of Eden, and she's here working her arse off for these kids, which is really what Nona and Cam and Palamedes are to her. Hard, thankless work day in day out, with very little idea of when this will end.

Oh, Pyrrha.

Everyone turned to look at Nona, who writhed beneath this judgement, and they agreed that she had not looked well for, like, weeks. “I do,” she said indignantly. “Look at my braids—I look wonderful,” which thankfully replaced their worry with a group effort to squash her vanity. They often took it in turns to squash Nona’s vanity, which never worked.

Good.

Anyway, she looks like Harrow, who's never looked particularly healthy in her life. Sorry to break it to you, Nona. She's in a Lyctor's body, which means very little can truly hurt her - I bet she could survive drinking bleach like Pyrrha - but if the other kids think she hasn't looked well in weeks, but she was looking better before then, is there something going on?

Even if they all assured her that she was nothing to write home about, she could say, “Who cares? I can’t write,” and then they had to switch tack and squash her for being proud that she was so goddamned stupid.

This is so fucking precious. Keep being proud of your dead-body looks and your above average stupidity, Nona. We love you.

Anyway, this kinda points to Nona's sickly looks just being general Harrow-ness.

The most interesting sight was someone lounging in an alleyway opposite the school building, sitting in a busted-up chair next to an overflowing bin, and Nona watched intently, trying to decide if they were dead or not. She decided not dead, because they were wearing quite a good jacket and faceguard and nobody was coming around surreptitiously trying to take either.

I'm sure this isn't of any importance whatsoever.

[bloodtwin]

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠 。。。

             latest grave robbed: unprompted interactions 。

@silvertiefling   ⸻ ❝ He had disappeared for a few days while she hung around the bhaal temple - and she had been pouty about it the whole time. He hadn't even told her where he was going or what he was doing and she was irritated to discover him gone. But when he finally returned, a different sensation ran through her. One of relief, of care, of love and excitement - it scared the shit out of her but didn't stop her from running up to him and jumping into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck as she smothered his face in as many kisses as she could. "Puck! Gods, there ya are you little shit - ya didn't even kiss me goodbye, you owe me a million kisses for every day you were gone!" yet she's still the one pressing her lips all over his face, not giving him a second to breathe. ❞

That wasn't what he expected 。What was it he expected, exactly ？ He wasn't really sure now that he thought about it, but whatever it was- it was not excitement 。Maybe he hoped thought that, if he didn't say goodbye, she would leave & never return. She'd realize whatever pleasure she derived from him wasn't worth the trouble it cost. 

          It wasn't that he wanted her to leave, but if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that everything he touched inevitably died 。It was only a matter of time before it was her turn, too. Surely, she knew that ？

She knew it better than anyone, actually. She'd seen the worst of him. Worse than even Iago had ever seen. Katya was not a saint by any definition of the word, but there was a difference between being a bad person & being an irredeemable monster 。Logically, she should have run away ages ago.

          Yet she lingered still, laying herself down in her own grave; deeper & deeper with every day she came back to him. It was that ease with which she seemed to trust him that terrified him. Not only did she let him go too far, but she encouraged it. Wanted it. It was stupid of her; it was reckless 。He had no idea when that reckless faith first began, but he wished he'd recognized it for what it was. Wished he'd nipped it in the bud, pushed her away, saved her from him. He didn't understand what she saw in him.

Puck did not doubt Katya's strength nor her ability to defend herself against him. He believed her to be the most likely person to succeed in killing him, if such a thing was even possible. But most likely was not good enough. One day, he would lose control. He would catch her off guard at just the wrong time, overpower her, and she would die.

          She'd probably find it romantic 。She'd choke to death, not because Puck had his hands around her throat, but because she would waste her breath to taunt & tease him until the light faded in her eyes. Such a thing would usually entice him, spur him on. With her, it made him feel sick.

Why ？She'll die, anyway 。Or did you forget already ？You know how this story ends ; you're the one writing it, after all. Everyone dies, then you take your own life at the same time you take your bloodtwin's. This mutt is nothing 。Fodder. A toy you should have discarded long ago 。It'd be a mercy to kill her now.

          ❝ You are being dramatic, I think, ❞ a tease he often threw her way, but today it lacked its usual warmth. It sounded numb, distant. Instinctively, Puck had caught her in his arms, but his embrace felt stiff, heavy yet barely there. Almost as if he were a ghost.

Puck willed a cocky smirk on his face as she kissed him though each brush of her lips made his stomach drop.

          ❝ I did not realize my absence would be 。。。 ❞ A bad thing. The idea that there was someone who truly missed him was entirely alien to him. He didn't know what to do with it. Didn't know what to say. He settled on leaning on old, sarcastic habits. ❝ ⸻ Ah, so harrowing for you, dear. I apologize. ❞

[princesscolumbia]

Another TLT thought

Would Wake really have hated Gideon that much?

Stay with me here, this is important.

Let's say that, somehow, Wake didn't die on the Ninth when trying to airdrop in. Let's say she managed to stay alive and get away and somehow Griddle still grows up exactly the same way, still does the fire-less shish-ka-bob with her heart for Goth Queen, and winds up clawing her way out during Varun's attack on the Mithraeum, and the conversation about who Gideon is still happens without Wake piloting Citherea's body like her own Gundam.

Wake is still trucking about in the galaxy, you probably wouldn't have the terrorist-style attacks on the Empire (even Jod admitted that Wake had more sense than to nuke random targets), G1deon is still doing his level best Terminator impression.

Palamedes and Harrow insist that bonding a soul to an inanimate object will, over time, degrade that soul. It will not retain all the important of the everything about the person the soul is from long term. It will eventually turn into a ravening revanent, incapable of properly processing the world around it.

John seems to think (and would be the leader of the school of thought by default) that the soul is immutable, that once formed nothing changes it. No wonder he treats Wake as a coherent individual when he's talking to a literal possessed zombie, it never crosses his mind that maybe he's wasting his time. Wake isn't a coherent person anymore, she's fashioned herself into a cold, impersonal implement of destruction for everything wrong with the galaxy. She literally had her last living thoughts be about completing a mission, life be damned, at the expense of all else (No wonder G1deon had such a hard-on for her, he'd done the same thing to himself). She made herself into a weapon.

No wonder she possessed a sword for nearly two decades.

She locked her very malleable, slowly decaying spirit inside a cold, hard, immobile, single-purpose prison for two decades. Her entire purpose became to haunt the Walking Tomb of 200 Infants, and when she finally had a chance to be somewhere else, she put herself in the body of another woman who'd turned herself into an undying weapon.

Decades of nothing but cold, hard, unrelenting, raveningly insane HATE OF ALL THINGS ALIVE AND NOT. This was her ENTIRE WORLD.

And then Palamedes tumbles to the fact that souls are 100% mutable and malleable and WILL take on the traits of that which they are part of no matter what.

Back to the theoretical timeline where Wake didn't die on the Ninth...

Word gets back to her that there's this poor redhead who's got her nose and drive and Jod's eyes and seems to be working to try to White Knight All the Things who (and this is an IMPORTANT BIT) wasn't subjected to the irrational HATE of a schizophrenic teenager because IT WAS WAKE'S DECAYED SOUL THAT FORGED HARROW'S PAIN AND ANGER INTO HATE IN THE FIRST PLACE and she says, "Huh...okay, yeah, she's a zombie, but she's also my kid. I've had two decades to mellow after that cock-up of a mission. Maybe I don't love this zombie, but let's see if she hates her old man as much as I do."

And yeah, Gideon hates mommy dearest as much as she hates her pops, but they can at least respect each other and work with each other. They won't trust the other, but they're both smart enough to rely on each other to get the job done.

And since souls are malleable and Wake isn't locked in a tomb (see what I did there) of cold steel, maybe she warms up to her daughter.

[mythicspiration]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 from the Argent mountains, had gained a strangely warm regard from the lone explorer, because following along its length guaranteed arrival at its eventual confluence with the great southern Demacian river-- and that meant tiled rooftops peeking through leafy canopies at its peninsula. The fledgling town of Terbisia occupied Ezreal's thoughts as of late, overtaking his home of Piltover, the same way Ezreal had begun to seem like the figment, rather than Jarro.

When Ezreal passed the town's gates, his three month long journey was written all over him: scrapes, partly torn seams and hems, dry hands and lips, overgrown hair. He had injured his ankle in a rather harrowing slip in the cavern he'd descended, which still ghosted as the slightest limp in his step, no matter how well he thought he hid it. While he'd never been very scared of injuries or pain, this time Terbisia, and particularly its people, had flashed in his mind as a reminder of where he could not return, if he hurt himself too badly. That kind of sentiment was new for the lone explorer.

The hinterlands of Demacia were no uncharted territory for him. He first journeyed there years ago, and that marked the beginning of his attachment to Terbisia, as not long after he befriended the most unlikely person: Lux, or Luxanna of the Crownguard, but he didn't like to call her that. Back then, despite all her incredible talents, she was used as merely a playpiece of her family's politics. She was one of his only real friends, and his first love-- if he ever really fell out of love with her at all. The time they could spend together was little, and their friendship was challenged by their difference in station. In a way, it should've never been possible in the first place. Gradually, he fell out of touch with her, as Demacia grew harder for foreigners, and especially magic-born such as himself, to access.

Now, in the aftermath of the mage uprising, Lux was the Governess of Terbisia, offering refuge and guidance for Demacia's oppressed mages and rebuilding over the ruins of the town. He had sought her out after the conflict, and found her in this town. Ever since, he had returned as often as he could, rekindling their old friendship. Terbisia had begun to feel like a home, in a way Piltover never did. Along with Lux, the entire town of Terbisia met him with friendship-- and such a thing Ezreal had never, ever experienced.

He had never been quite stupid enough to think that a noble-born, on all accounts incredible person could be his friend, but here he was. He was, however, stupid enough to fall in love with her, but who wouldn't? His life had its share of curses and he had accepted that a long time ago. A lot had happened in the years he'd spent apart from Lux, and it seemed that she had loved another, at least until recently. He knew he shouldn't, that it was the most idiotic and moronic notion, but he couldn't help thinking; maybe, maybe someone even like himself, could have a shot at happiness and home. A family.

Terbisia was flourishing, people smiling and new houses receiving foundations-- thanks to Lux, he thought in awe. After some searching, and a delay from familiar faces in town who welcomed him back, he finally found his dear friend at the warehouse, where new supplies had arrived and demanded her attention. She looked a little tired, which didn't surprise Ezreal as much as it worried him-- she had always been hardworking, caring and thorough, and governing over an entire town was no doubt incredibly demanding. It was completely beyond his understanding how she managed to do it. But he would always, if he only could, try to lift her mood.

❛ Your Governess, ❜ came his greeting in mediocre Demacian, as he bowed his head, all dapper and posh, imitating some sort of Demacian nobleman. However, the playful twinkle of blue beneath his overgrown fringe gave away his pretense, and much more. The way he heaved his backpack to one shoulder, too, clashed against the persona he was trying to exude.

❛ Your town looks most excellently governed I must say, ❜ he continued, taking languid steps towards her, as if he wasn't dying to hug her. He even made a point to look around as if inspecting her handiwork, before letting his backpack drop to the floor. That was as long he could spare without looking at her, and his arms were now freed to do what they most desired. Finally deciding to drop his stupid joke and boorish Demacian, he had one thing to utter into long, silky pale strands as he embraced Lux tightly: I missed you.

He squeezed her against his chest, swaying a little, hands drawing stars onto her shoulders where he held her. It was longer than he usually hugged her for, and his heart beat rampantly, asking her if this was alright. He got suddenly scared that this really was out of line, and pulled away a little abruptly. He retracted his hands into his pockets, and even procured a fitting excuse; ❛ Sorry. I'm probably pretty nasty, straight out of an epic adventure and all that. ❜ Top it with a chuckle, and smooth as butter.

He had a point though; even he could smell the campfire smoke off of his own jacket, and he was in sore need of a haircut. He was unwilling to dwell on it however, and continued: ❛ Are you alright? Not to be rude, but you do look a little-- maybe, stressed out? ❜

The markings on his cheeks had lit up from the contact with another magic-born, their blue pronounced against elatedly red cheeks. In his eyes swam a mixture of hope and worry-- hope that Lux didn't mind the longer hug; worry for her well-being, and that she did mind. His fingers fiddled anxiously with a gift he had hid in his pocket, wishing to give it to her as soon as an opportunity presented itself.

Starter for @seekslight. Ezreal & Lux.

[ashland-frost]

Family Matters

I didn't like that there were no options when it came to this part of the game, so I made what I thought would have been better. Let me know how you like it and what you thought the options should have been.

My MC is not the new fifth year. It's another student who's been friends for a while with Sebastian.

Sebastian x MC { Frost}

The battle against Solomon was not where you expected this path to lead. Just as you finally managed to calm Sebastian down, his beloved uncle emerged and ruthlessly destroyed the sacred relic. "What have you done, boy?!"

Your exasperation reached its peak, for every time this absurd man opened his mouth, things only worsened. As you heard Sebastian's incantation, "Avada-" your instincts kicked in, propelling you to push Solomon aside in the nick of time. Sebastian, shocked by the near-tragedy he almost caused, was not consumed by anger or sadness at the prospect of almost ending his uncle's life. No, it was the harrowing realization that he had almost taken yours, his tears streaming uncontrollably.

Rushing towards him, you desperately reassured him that you were unharmed. "I almost killed you... I could have," he whispered, his voice trembling with guilt and regret.

"But you didn't," you countered firmly, your words resonating with an undertone of relief and forgiveness.

Anne and Ominis burst into the scene, their footsteps echoing in urgency. They witnessed the sight of you enveloping Sebastian, his broken form collapsed on the floor, sobbing and screaming. "I just wanted my sister to be cured. Why wasn't it me instead?" his anguished words pierced the air, each syllable laden with despair.

Solomon, for the first time, stood motionless, unable to utter a single word. He was a mere statue, frozen in time. "She's the only family I have. My parents are dead, and my uncle hates me. What do I have left?" His voice carried the weight of a soul burdened by sorrow and loss.

Upon hearing those heart-wrenching words, Anne couldn't contain her own anguish any longer. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the chaos of emotions in the room. "Sebastian, you still have me, Ominis and Frost are your family too. Together, we will find a way. You won't lose us," she whispered, her voice filled with a steadfast determination to support Sebastian through the darkest of times.

Anne rushed forward, her body betraying her as she fell to her knees. Trembling with raw emotion, she choked out, "Sebastian, I'm sorry. I had no idea you felt this way all along. I never wanted you to suffer for my sake." Embracing her brother tightly, she pleaded, "Please, I can't bear to lose you either."

Ominis stood behind Anne, his presence a pillar of unwavering support. Placing a reassuring hand on Sebastian's shoulder, he spoke softly, "Sebastian, you're not alone. We are here for you, and we won't abandon you."

Meanwhile, you regained your composure and marched purposefully towards Solomon, who remained fixed in his vacant stare, unaffected by the emotional turmoil unfolding before him. The fire in your eyes burned bright as you confronted him, your voice trembling with anger and frustration. "YOU!! How dare you? Your own nephew needed you!" With a resounding slap across his face, you jolted Solomon out of his daze. The three of them turned to witness the impact, Solomon's hand instinctively reaching to his stinging cheek, yet still he remained motionless.

"Not once, in all the time I've known you, did you ever speak to Sebastian as if you genuinely cared for him," you continued, your voice escalating in intensity. "And now, as he's having a breakdown right in front of you, you do nothing. He believes you don't love him. Why can't you say anything?" Each word pierced the air with righteous indignation, as you shouted your accusations at the silent figure before you.

The room began to spin, dizziness encroaching upon your senses, yet you persisted, driven by your determination to make Solomon comprehend the pain he had caused. But then, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, your body betrayed you. You faltered and collapsed, consciousness slipping away. Sebastian rushed to your side, his voice trembling with desperation, "Please wake up. I need you." Those words were the last thing you heard before succumbing to unconsciousness, leaving the outcome hanging in the balance, and the hearts of those who cared for you filled with uncertainty and fear.

You lay peacefully asleep in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, unaware of the unfolding events around you. Sebastian sat faithfully by your side, holding your hand, his worry etched deeply onto his face. Suddenly, the doors burst open, and an imposing elderly woman strode into the room with purpose. Her commanding presence filled the space, and everyone within it felt a chill run down their spines. Fixing her gaze on Sebastian, she demanded, "Where is my grandchild?" Her voice reverberated through the room, leaving an uneasy silence in its wake.

Standing tall, Sebastian rose from his seat, his voice filled with remorse. "I'm sorry, ma'am. She fainted from stress. The nurse said it was my fault. She was helping me with a family problem, and she ended up worrying too much on my account."

The elderly woman's stern expression softened slightly as she observed Sebastian's honesty and maturity. "Well, this boy seems to have more backbone than you adults," she muttered under her breath. Then, addressing Sebastian directly, she inquired, "What is your name, son? You wouldn't happen to be Sebastian Sallow, would you?"

Surprised, Sebastian replied, "Yes, that would be me. But how do you know my name?"

"My grandchild sent me a letter about you and your sister," the woman revealed, stepping closer to your bedside. She cast a skeptical eye at the nervous nurse, doubting that the young woman could do anything substantial. Letting out a sigh, she muttered, "This child really isn't good with stress, she'll be up by morning"

The woman's attention returned to Sebastian. "Now, Mr. Sallow, where is this sister of yours?"

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, unsure of this stranger's intentions. However, sensing genuine concern in her gaze, he decided to trust her. "She's in Feldcoft with my Uncle," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of worry and longing.

"Well, lead the way then," the woman commanded, her curiosity piqued by the bond between you and Sebastian. For she had never known her grandchild to have feelings for another person or forge friendships that truly mattered.

Sebastian stood there, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected turn of events.

"She'll be alright, just needs some sleep, So stop your worrying "After a brief pause, he gathered his resolve and guided the woman towards Feldcoft.

As they walked away, the elderly woman contemplated the depth of this newfound relationship, realizing that her grandchild might have discovered something precious and rare in the form of companionship and love.

Arriving at Feldcoft and making their way to the Sallow house, the elderly woman broke the silence, her tone filled with curiosity. "Tell me, what do you think of my child?"

A genuine smile spread across Sebastian's face, radiating warmth. "She is wonderful. Smart, caring, friendly. One of the best duelists I've ever seen. But she is undoubtedly the best person I've ever met. Lovely in every way."

"Is she now? Not once have I heard someone describe her as friendly," the woman remarked, skepticism lacing her words.

Shocked at the notion, Sebastian replied, "Well, she may come across as a bit cold at first, but all anyone has to do is talk to her. Though I suppose her face can be quite intimidating at times."

"So, she takes after me more than her mother. How lovely," the woman mused, a sense of pride evident in her voice.

"I dare say she does. You scared everyone just by walking in. It was quite the sight," Sebastian admitted, recalling the intimidating presence the woman exuded.

"I think I see why she likes you so much. Quite brave and charming," the woman remarked, a hint of admiration in her voice.

Blushing, Sebastian stammered, "Did she mention that in the letter too?"

"No, it's just easy to see," the woman replied with a gentle smile.

Finally arriving at the door of the Sallow house, Sebastian knocked, and it was Anne who answered. Concern etched on her face, she immediately inquired, "Sebastian, is she okay? I've been so worried."

Sebastian's eyes softened as he reassured her, "Definitely, she's is fine, shes still sleeping"

Anne then noticed the presence of the elderly woman and straightened up, politely addressing her, "Goodnight, ma'am. Is there anything we can help you with?" She whispered to Sebastian, "Who is she?"

"This is Frost's grandmother. She's here to see you," Sebastian replied quietly.

"Me? But why?" Anne asked, puzzled by the unexpected visit.

"To see if I can cure you, child. May I come in?" the elderly woman interjected.

Anne, taken aback but gracious, responded, "Oh, yes, my apologies. Please come in." She turned to Sebastian, whispering, "are you sure Frost is okay?"

Sebastian nodded reassuringly. "Yes, she was just stressed with the whole situation. She'll be better in the morning."

The woman glanced around, noticing the absence of their guardian, which Sebastian also noticed "Where is Uncle Solomon?" he inquired.

"He said he needed to take a walk. I don't think he realizes how much he hurt you. I'm also sorry, Sebastian," Anne replied with a tinge of remorse.

"It's okay. We still have each other," Sebastian said, his voice filled with conviction.

The woman gazed at them tenderly. "How good to see siblings getting along. Come, my dear, let me have a good look at you."

Anne cautiously approached, her hands trembling slightly. "Are you afraid of me little one?" The elder asked.

Anne shook her head gently. "No, ma'am, just of what you'll say."

"Well, you don't need to worry, your curse is curable " the woman assured, waving her wand and uttering unfamiliar words. Dark smoke emerged from Anne's body, disappearing as it touched the wand's light. "It's done. You'll need to drink these potions until your health is fully restored," she said, handing Anne three vials. "When you need more, Frost will make them for you."

Anne's tears flowed freely as she asked incredulously, "I- I'm cured? Really?" Anne's voice trembled.

"Yes, Can't have the first friends my dear has made die, from a curse of all things" the grandmother replied. The twins expressed their gratitude, saying, "Thank you."

"What can we do to repay you for what you've done?" Anne asked, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.

The grandmother's eyes softened as she replied, "Continue to be friends with my child. She needs it. I'll send a letter to her in the morning. I'm off, children."

"Thank you," they both said, their voices filled with gratitude.

"And don't stress her out again, Mr. Sallow" the grandmother warned before vanishing from sight.

Sebastian spent some time with Anne, comforting her and making sure she was alright. As he prepared to leave, Solomon unexpectedly appeared. "Uncle! I... I shouldn't be here. I was just bringing someone to Anne, that's all. She's cured now. Frost's grandmother cured her."

"She's cured?" Solomon's voice was filled with surprise.

"Yes, Frost wrote to her grandmother, who possesses great skill in cures. She came to see Anne. So, Anne is good as new. I'll have someone come by to give her medicine. She has to take it until her strength fully returns," Sebastian explained.

"I see," Solomon muttered, his expression contemplative.

"I'll be going now. Um... don't worry, I promise I won't come back. I know you don't want me here," Sebastian said, averting his gaze and beginning to walk away.

"Sebastian, boy, I'm sorry," Solomon's words halted Sebastain's steps, causing him to look back at his uncle.

"You... you... I was just scared you'd get yourself killed. You're so much like your father, and I couldn't bear it. I don't hate you. I just... I'm not good at being a parent. I never saw myself with children, and with you two coming into my life, I realized I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm sorry, Sebastian. This is your home. I should have talked to you more instead of yelling, and I should never have told you to stay away from your sister," Solomon confessed, his voice filled with regret.

"You don't hate me?" Sebastian's voice wavered with disbelief.

"I don't. I love you and Anne. I'm just not good at this," Solomon admitted, his tone sincere.

"But I almost killed you," Sebastian reminded him, his voice laced with guilt.

"And it would have been my fault, not yours. You're just a boy, and I let you feel like you had no one while watching your sister slowly die. I forgive you, but I can't forgive myself for causing all of this. Come home whenever. We'll both be here. Now, go back to school before curfew," Solomon instructed.

"Yes, sir," Sebastian replied, tears streaming down his face as he walked away, a mix of emotions overwhelming him. The realization that his uncle didn't hate him brought both relief and sorrow.

Solomon stood there, watching Sebastian leave, repeating to himself, "I'm sorry," his eyes welled up with tears. Inside the house, Anne, with her back to the door, overheard the conversation, tears streaming down her face as well. She was grateful that amidst the chaos, they finally had an actual conversation and the beginnings of understanding.

[judiciously-ezekiel]

His eyes softened at his wife's words, shaking his head gently, "you never made me doubt for a moment, my love. I knew you were suffering and doing what you thought you needed to grieve. It was my own mind that poisoned me and my thoughts." There was a string that attached Ezekiel to Pandora, a red string of fate so strong that no matter what struck against it, it never snapped. That didn't mean, however, that it couldn't be hidden through years of tragedy and pain. Zeke shook his head, warm eyes never leaving Pandora's face. "My love, a mother grieving untold amounts of pain does those things. If you had zero compassion, then you would not have reacted the way you did... as for our son," a short beat passed as he thought of his boy. Rhys was always his spitting image, like someone who held a mirror to Ezekiel at a younger age, yet he knew his son was too much like his mother. "You may have lit the match of his rage, but his own grief was the kerosene. I'm afraid his own attachment to his sister would have poisoned him regardless, but maybe after time allows... we can bring him back, too." It would be a trial, perhaps one even harder than killing the Devil. Where Pandora had Zeke to balance her out once she allowed him to, Rhys held no attachments to anyone, and his moral compass was obliterated. Zeke didn't want to say it out loud in case it never came to fruition, but their best shot of bringing Rhys back from the brink was bringing his twin back to life– although that almost seemed too selfish to place on Celeste's shoulders.

Zeke dared not move while his Panny absorbed his words, feeling the panic flitting through her veins when coming face to face with the reality of their situation and the vain dream of what she wanted the curse to be. It was a valiant attempt at retribution. However, such an act only worked on someone who cared for those who were stripped away from them, and he knew the King would never have the capacity to care for the Princes as Pandora did for Celeste. The curse, however, was a double-edged sword. While the impact on the King wasn't as monumental as his wife would have hoped, it forever altered the boys' lives. Showing them a life outside of the clutches of their King and that there were other things to live for outside of duty and sacrifice for a man who cared not for them. "My darling, your promises to the King can change. He now feels the destruction of his kingdom when those Princes come for him. He's witnessing his downfall in real time, and there's nothing we can do that is more harrowing." Ezekiel didn't follow her as she moved, rooted to his spot, but he breathed a small sigh of relief when she agreed. It was a small glimpse that the wife he knew was underneath it all, and everything was finally aligning in the cosmos. "Our gift," he echoed, taking her hand as she grabbed for him, "we make Wrath's sword and then we break the curse. The end of the King's chapter is the beginning of all of ours, my love."

Pandora could recall how full of light they were in their younger years, seemingly chosen by the goddesses to become mortal carriers of their abilities. It was her destiny forming a coven led by kindness and a firm grip as was it Ezekiel's destiny being a father to all. Being the guiding light when one is lost within themselves, and when they were together? A cosmic collision written in the stars. She could not fathom how her vengeance could have blinded her so that she would abandon what they created from their blossoming love and the everlasting dedication to their children. Their twins. Pandora knew she was partly to blame, if not, utterly and completely responsible. Their coven lost a leader, she lost her family in one fell swoop. A devastating wake crippled those around the First Witch, the others disbanded after such a momentous grief clung in the air. Ezekiel's absence further divided what she once cherished and built before tainting a legacy she and her husband were fostering for the next generation. The ritual may have strengthened their already powerful magical bond, but the confessions and the truth solidified the fact that they will never separate ever again. "If there was ever a single second where you doubted that I still loved you, I am sorry, my darling. We are forever connected by bond and by the greatest love nothing in this world will diminish." Pan's eyes steadily lowered to their connected hands, the warmth of his heat soothing her very soul and feeling like home. She once has forgotten the meaning of the word home entirely. "A compassionate woman does not send her husband away or drag her son down to the darkest depths. I have poisoned Rhys, my darling. How are either of us certain I am still capable of compassion when I've failed our boy at every turn because of my selfishness?" The doubt strangled Panny no matter the web she spun. Nothing offered proof that the girl Ezekiel married isn't lost for good, it is a girl she has not seen in centuries, the stern and merciful witch untouched by unimaginable loss.

Pandora's eyes immediately shot upwards in shock at her husband's stated suggestion, nothing she hasn't thought herself at one point, but the fact he would offer this idea as if there were no other choice caught the woman with her back against the wall. Ezekiel's long-winded explanation, describing Rhys's turn to the darkness and detailing the consequences the King dished for every Prince, sent Pan through a whirlwind of emotions as her mind internally rationalized why she could never break the curse. Was she that stubborn, that vain and pure evil as to deny those boys their only chance ridding themselves of a monstrous abuser because of her own hubris? Pride placed a great barrier between himself and the King, going against his nature playing the dutiful soldier. Unexpected from him. She thought about Gluttony, souls ripped from his hands and a voice he coveted destroyed that left him with the silence just as Sloth was plagued by the screaming voices of the damned. She thought about Lust and his plight keeping his Prince from harm's way. Every memory she possessed of the brothers raced in her mind, blurry and indistinguishable, chaotic and causing enough fuel to set the woman into a complete panic. Those thoughts abruptly zeroed in on the two brothers who meant more to her than the idea of punishing the King. Greed and Wrath. Greed once upon a time looked her way when the other princes were preoccupied by the curse's effects, offering friendship and brotherhood when she spent her days alone. He opened his trust to her and she bared her soul as if they were two beings designed to coexist perfectly. And Wrath...the prince who granted her daughter happiness when her family could not rescue her. He and Pandora carried an understanding and he concealed her secret from his brothers for Celeste. Pan shook her head from side to side frantically, someone who exuded confidence her entire life, now left grappling with an impossible decision. "Everything that I have done, my promises to him, will have been for nothing." Pandora released her grasp and stepped back, willing the denial of the possibility to touch her lips, but the words failed. Zeke was right. Those boys are as good as dead in the water if their full abilities were not restored before the war landed at their feet. "I should have shown them mercy a long time ago." She whispered after a long paused beat. Pandora's attention shifted on her husband, nodding with acceptance. "It's time I let go before it really kills me, my darling. No more of this...this game of vengeance. For you, for our children, for those boys who deserve freedom. Our gift." Panny reached for the male's hands again, "We are breaking the curse."

[mayasaura]

i had a very sad au idea. where gideon gets off the ninth and joins the cohort. one of the commanding officers realizes that gideon shares a name with a lyctor and looks like Wake. cue jod finding out gideon exists and kiriona 2.0 happens (buts Worse)

I love this AU, (and really any version of "Gideon manages to escape to the Cohort and her dad finds out she exists,") though I have to admit I'm not quite understanding your vision. I can't see what makes it all that sad, or Worse than canon.

The way I'm seeing it, this Gideon flipped the Ninth the double-bird then got clotheslined into being a Prince, all with Harrow still safe at home to have her snooty little nose rubbed in it. Gideon will be able to write her a letter saying:

"Addressing Her Ghastliness the Lady Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House serving the Emperor Undying: Hey, asswipe, remember when we were kids and you said my other parent wasn't important? Guess a-fucking-gain, loser! Signed, Crown Prince Kiriona Gaia the First, First Lieutenant of the Cohort, Heir to the First House, only daughter to the Emperor Divine (formerly known to you as Gideon Nav, not that you ever called me by it. Suck on that, creepozoid) p.s. Chill out, I haven't told my dad anything that would embarrass the Ninth, and I won't unless you give me reason to. p.p.s. The Emperor send his regards to your parents! :)"

And she'll still be alive to feel her heart race as she pictures the face Harrow will make after breaking open the seal on this very important missive from the First House to read it.

[cellophaine]

Home With You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3003

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I figured I should give you guys a break from my smutty contents lol. And I just wanted to write an indulgent fluff piece.

As always, every likes, comments, reblogs, feedbacks and ask submissions are greatly appreciated! My heart goes into cha-cha-cha mode whenever I receive notifications from you guys (it's a happy mode)

Prompt requested by: Anonyomous (love you anon <3)

------

"Matt?!"

You called out as you walked into his apartment; the exhaustion crept into your voice. His name echoed back to you in the empty place, a tell-tale sign of Matt's absence. You huffed out a frustrated sigh as you stepped out of your heels, padding into the living room on bare feet, much to your relief. You dropped your briefcase to the floor with abandon, planting face-first onto the couch, releasing another weary sigh. This was the third night in a row you missed him on his way out, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. At this point, it had become a regular occurrence. You felt like you barely saw him as of late. All you had was the little time in the mornings with Matt's body wrapped around yours in the bed. And it wasn't enough. How could it be?

Your workload as a paralegal at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz had picked up in the past few months. The pay was more than decent, but it resulted in more time assisting Jeri Hogarth in cases and less time spending with your boyfriend. The immense amount of guilt you felt kept building up, as you knew Matt was not happy about your situation, but he always knew what to say to make you feel better. You had spent time running around New York for researches, staying late at the office at Hogarth's requests.

The days would always end with you worn out to the bones. Matt hated how the job was clawing at you, chipping away a piece of you every day, leaving you stressed out and exhausted. But he was supportive anyway, understanding that it was your choice in the matter. And so, Matt was the only constant, comforting source in your life. He would be there every time you woke up, cuddling and kissing you, making sure that you had all your meals throughout the day, taking care of you when you couldn't do it yourself.

You dragged your enervated self into the shower, lathering yourself up with Matt's shampoo and body, indulging in his scent under the hot water. The clean smell of his soap in the shower steam helped relieve the ache of missing him in your chest. You had slept over his apartment every night. Still, ironic enough, you felt like you drifted away further from him, not of your own volition. Matt was the anchor that kept you close, but how long would it last? How long would he be willing to stay?

You patted yourself dry, walking into his bedroom, the air cool on your exposed skin. You opened the closet, pulling out a sweatshirt of his. You hugged it close to your chest, dropping your head low to inhale the smell of him. You pulled the shirt on along with his too-big sweatpants, tightening the strings at the waistband. You put on his socks, too, tucking them over the hems of the sweats, just like how he always did it. A habit of his that you had absorbed. A bittersweet thought struck you. Despite being in his apartment, often living in his space more than your own, you wore his clothes just to feel closer to him. He was close but never close enough.

You found your way to the couch again, plopping your head on the pillow. You curled into yourself, settling in a comfortable position. You didn't bother with dinner, for you craved something else. You just wanted him here. You wanted to spend every second you could get with him to make up for the time you had missed. You tried to stay up, waiting for him to come back. But the toll of the day pulled on your eyelids, luring you into sleep with much resistance from you.

A weightless feeling woke you from your sleep. You blinked sleepily; your hazy vision revealed Matt, still in his Daredevil suit, the helmet was nowhere in sight. His unseeing eyes radiated the comfort and affection you loved, and you hummed happily at the blessed sight of him. A smile pulled on the corner of Matt's lips as he laid you down on the bed, pulling the soft blanket over you. He brushed your hair off your eyes before leaning in, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled sleepily at his gesture, tilting your face up as his warmth left your skin. Your lips met his halfway, and you sighed into the kiss that you craved with the entirety of your being. You needed this, needed him; you yearned for him. Your hand found its way to him; his light stubble tickled your fingertips. You caressed his face, needing to touch, to feel him, as the kiss grew heavy. Finally, he pulled back from you with much reluctance, within your reach, just enough so you could hear his whisper.

"Have you had dinner? I left you your favourite in the fridge."

You pressed your head into the pillow before shaking your head, along with a muffled confirmation of his suspicion. His brows furrowed, and you quickly pulled on his jaw, drawing him closer. You resumed the kiss, and once again, Matt was the one who broke away. Lowering your voice in a soothing tone, you asked in the hope of distracting him.

"Do you have any injuries that needed to be looked at?"

"It was a pretty uneventful night. I know what you're doing, and it's not working."

He responded at once; his head shook slightly in disapproval. He knew you too well. You knew that. But you didn't want to get up while all you wanted was to bask in his familiarity, his warmth again.

"I had a very long day. I just want to go back to sleep, with you. Please?"

Your desperate plea tugged at his heart. His eyes softened as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Alright. But you will have a big breakfast, first thing when you get up."

You bit your lip, brows waggling at him, even though you knew he couldn't see that. A playful, suggestive tone glided into your voice.

"Oh, I definitely would like something 'big' for breakfast."

He let out a small laugh at your terrible tease.

"I'm serious. I was gone for a few hours, and you already neglected yourself."

"I promise. I'll be yours for the entire weekend. Now, can you get your ass in this bed, preferably naked? Pretty please."

He chuckled, standing up to pull his protective gear off. A few rustles later, the mattress dipped as Matt climbed into the bed behind you. He pulled you into his chest, pressing butterfly kisses on your hair. You turned onto your back, giving him easier access to your lips. He eagerly took you on your offer, pulling you in for a soft kiss, so soft that it made you melt into his embrace. He moved to kiss your cheeks, making his way to your eyelids, ending the kiss on your forehead.

"Sleep now, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."

You turned to your side to cuddle into him, curling your hand behind his muscular back. You nuzzled your face into his firm chest, kissing and nibbling sleepily on the naked skin. You fell asleep promptly, grateful for the weekend ahead of you.

Your phone buzzed again and again on Matt's bedside table. You groaned, burrowing your face further into Matt's chest. The faint scent of blood and sweat, of Matt, infiltrated your senses through a daze. However, whoever on the other side stayed persistent; calls came in after calls. Finally, you untangled your limbs from Matt's with frustration, answering the call to hear Hogarth's voice on the other side.

"Where the fuck are you? Why didn't you pick up your damn phone?"

"It's… it's the weekend."

"And? This case won't go away itself. Come in now, or you're fired."

Your ears met with the dead tone from the other line. You fell back onto the warm bed, feeling like you could burst into tears. Pressing your face into the pillow, you muffled a silent scream. Matt propped on his elbow, caressing your back with the other hand.

"Stay here. Quit the job. You deserve so much better than how Hogarth's treating you."

You murmured.

"I can't. Her words have weight. She can really help me with my career. The pay isn't bad either."

"I know, but it's not worth it. I don't like seeing you bend over backward to every of her demand. I can feel your exhaustion every night. I hate seeing you so harrowed and stressed out."

You sighed heavily.

"It's not like I can quit right away. Not until I can secure a better job somewhere else. Rent in Hell's Kitchen is crazy. Until then, I'm stuck with her."

You moved around in the place, talking to Matt as you got ready. When you stepped out of the bathroom into the living room, dressed in your work attire, Matt walked over to where you stood, offering you a cup of tea. You smiled sadly at him, stroking his cheeks. Then, you raised on your tiptoe, kissing him swiftly before picking up your briefcase, making your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I can't drink the tea. I'm already late. I'll see you later tonight?"

Matt fell into silence; his head turned away from your direction. The mugs of tea in his hands stayed still and abandoned. You felt an awful jerk on your heartstring for leaving him like this. You spoke softly.

"I love you."

One moment of silence, then two. Matt reluctantly spoke, his voice small, barely audible.

"Love you, too."

You gnawed on your bottom lip in defeat, walking out the door. Your heart grew heavier with every step you took, carrying you further away from him.

When the elevator opened, you were working at your desk, just outside of Hogarth's office. You looked up just in time as the infamous P.I of Hell's Kitchen walked past your desk, sparing a glance towards you. You sprang up from your seat, running after her.

"Ms. Jones, I'm sorry, but you can't go in there. Unfortunately, Ms. Hogarth is not available at the moment."

Jones reeked of alcohol, but there was no sign of intoxication. She scoffed.

"I don't care if she's fucking another secretary in there. Step aside. I don't want to hurt you."

You stood in her path, taking your stance. Although preventing Jessica Jones from entering your boss' office wasn't your job, Hogarth made you do it anyway. She made you do many things that went beyond your responsibilities as a paralegal, as she always held her power over your head like an invisible sword, readied to strike at any given time.

Jessica rolled her eyes, sidestepping you. You stuck your foot out in her path, making her boot catch on your heel. She stumbled lightly, whirling around to face you.

"Seriously?"

You swallowed, shrugging.

"A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do."

"Maybe that girl should get another job and stop working for that monster."

Jessica quickened her pace, pushing the door open as you chased after her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hogarth, but she …."

"… tired of your shit, Hogarth. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Jessica gritted out the words. Your boss sent a deathly glare at you.

"Leave us."

She flicked a wrist at you, and you closed the door behind you as fast as you could. You went back to your desk, speeding through your mountain of paperwork. About half an hour later, Jessica walked out with a menacing expression on her face, heading straight for the elevator. Jeri walked out about two minutes later, looming over your desk.

"If that happens again, I will personally destroy your little, pathetic career. You hear me?"

You nodded solemnly.

"Have them on my desk before 5."

Hogarth left you alone for the rest of your time there. You were done with the work at a little over 3 PM. You dropped it off, and it was refreshing to see a surprise expression on her face for once instead of the usual scowl you received. Then, you headed straight for Matt's place, couldn't wait to get back to your boyfriend, despite the little not-an-argument you had earlier that day.

He wasn't home when you got there. You sighed, afraid you had messed things up with him. After changing into something more comfortable, you sat down on Matt's kitchen table with your laptop open and a steamy plate of food Matt left you last night. You sat there, your fingers tapping away on your device for what felt like hours until you heard the sound of the door being opened. Matt walked in, dressed in his usual gym clothes with a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His face was flushed, his hair stuck out adorably. You stood up, lingering at the chair. You cleared your throat.

"I'm… sorry for this morning. Are we … okay?"

You ached to hug him, to be gathered into his arms, to kiss him. Your bottom lip trembled slightly. You wouldn't know what to do if he said no.

He could sense your uncertainty with every word. His face softened at your vulnerable disposition, his arms opened wide, dropping his cane and bag to the floor with little care.

"Of course we are."

You lunged into his embrace, holding him tight as he picked you up easily, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You found his lips, pouring your heart and soul into the kiss. Eventually, you pulled away from each other as you gasped for air, your foreheads touching.

Matt lowered you down to the ground, still holding you in his arms, his hand caressing your spine in a soothing motion.

"I'm looking up other jobs. Hogarth is … horrible, and I'm always stressed out. You're right. It's not worth it."

"You know … Nelson & Murdock can use a helping hand."

Matt raised his brow at you; an endearing grin pulled at the corner of his lips. You smacked his chest playfully.

"As if I'm not helping you guys in my free time already."

You trailed a finger from the waistband of his sweats, ghosting over his abdomen and chest, ended your way at the pulse on his neck, stroking the delicate arc of his throat. Matt let out a small groan of pleasure.

"That means you already have an in with the firm."

You squinted your eyes at Matt while he feigned innocence.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I would love to have you there. We still have to discuss this with Foggy, but I think he'd be thrilled."

The earnestness in his voice was unconcealed. Working for Matt and Foggy was a tempting proposal, but you wanted to give it some thought first.

"Let me think about it."

The week started anew, with another visit from Jessica Jones. Only this time, you didn't cease your work pace, even as she walked past your desk. Jessica halted, looking at you skeptically.

"Why are you not stopping me right now? Did Hogarth call of her little guard dog?"

You looked up from your computer screen, giving her a nonchalant shrug.

"Nah, the order is still in effect. But I don't care."

The P.I gave you a nod and headed for Hogarth's office.

Before the workday ended, you were summoned by your fuming boss. Hogarth stood at her desk, a glass of whiskey clutched tight in her hand. She looked upon your entry, sneering at you.

"What part of preventing Jessica Jones from entering my office that you didn't understand? Do you —"

"I understand. I just don't care."

You dropped off the folder on Hogarth's desk. She narrowed her eyes at the manila envelope.

"This is my letter of resignation. I quit. I would say it was an honour to work with you, but that would be a lie."

You left the office that day feeling so much better than you had felt in months. There was a spring in your steps as you climbed the stairs to Matt's place. You walked in as an aroma of mouthwatering food being cooked engulfed you, welcoming you home. Matt was in the kitchen, facing the stove. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Matt lifted an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your forehead. Then, he turned off the stove, fully angled his body to you and gave you a warm embrace.

"So you did it? How did she take it?"

"She was furious, Matt. She threatened to make sure I could never practice law ever again. Over and over. But I'm not worried. She can threaten me however she wants. I know the law."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You're better off without her. And if she dared to do that, you wouldn't be alone. Foggy and I will have your back."

You hugged him even tighter, pressing your ear to the steady rhythm of his heart. You stayed like that for a moment as the sound of Hell's Kitchen played in the background. Matt buried his nose into your hair, peppering your face with kisses. Then, at last, he spoke up.

"So, have you given more thoughts on working for Nelson & Murdock?"

You made a tsk sound, tapping a finger against your lips, pretending to be in deep thoughts.

"I don't know. Wouldn't it make quite a scandal since I'm dating one of the bosses?"

"Considering the other boss already knows about the arrangement, no one else has to. We can keep a secret -"

Matt dipped his head; his lips brushed over the curve of your ear purposefully. The mere contact sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation. Finally, he released the last part of his sentence; his voice dropped dangerously low, dripped in an alluring invitation.

"- and have fun with it."

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Stay With Me: Part 2| Bucky Barnes x Reader

Please read Part 1 first :)

So did anyone ask for a part two? Nope!

But I'm writing it anyway.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: After getting Bucky's injuries taken care of, he needs to get some rest. He knows his night terrors will be worse than usual tonight after the traumatic mission he went on, but you're determined be there for him. An accidental injury leads to guilt, stitches, and snuggling.

Warnings: blood, reader gets injured (stitches), PTSD/anxiety, night terrors, light swearing

Word count: 4.8k

Part 3

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As Bucky embraced you, your entire body relaxed. The most stressful day of your life thus far was finally coming to an end. Bucky was home, he was okay, and you were together. That's all that mattered.

A yawn crept its way up your body and out of your mouth.

"Wow, that's a big yawn.” Bucky looked into your sleepy eyes and you saw how beautiful he really was. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him in so long or because you thought you were going to lose him, but in this moment he looked like a perfectly chiseled Greek God. His cerulean eyes peered deeply into yours, and you felt like he could see right into your soul.

You stretched your exhausted body and let out a tired sigh. Your body and mind were both aching for rest. You plopped down on the pallet you'd laid out for Bucky, surprised at how comfortable it was. He looked down at you with trepidation on his face. His reluctance confused you. Surely he'd want to lay down and get some sleep after the harrowing mission and the mental and emotion trauma he'd experienced.

"Hey, come to bed. You need to rest"

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with his vibranium hand. "Oh. Yeah. Let me change first. Gimme a second". He grabbed the gray sweatpants you'd laid out for him and headed into his bathroom. The two of you had been dating for a few months now, but you still hadn't done the deed and you definitely hadnt seen him naked. It's not as though you weren't dying to experience that with him. He had the body of Adonis and you loved him so much; you wanted to be as physically close to him as possible. But, hey, he was born in 1918. He called you doll, he asked you to "go steady" with him- he was old fashioned. You never wanted to push him or make him uncomfortable, so you were okay with only having some light make out sessions here and there.

He came out of the bathroom in his clean sweats but instead of joining you on the floor, he sat on the bare bed. He looked embarrassed, like a little kid who didn't want to admit that he was afraid of monsters under the bed.

"Buck, are you okay?"

"Yeah, doll. Um, I'm fine. I just..." he trailed off. Bucky was clearly not sure how to say what he wanted to say.

"You can tell me anything, babe. You know that. What's going on?"

"I just know that they're gonna be really bad tonight" he whispered. He let out a little laugh and tried to pull a smile to downplay his feelings, but it was clear to you that he was not okay. Your heart shattered. Bucky hadn't slept the night he got home from the mission, and you realized why; he knew he bad the night terrors were going to be.

You motioned for him to come sit next to you and he did. You turned toward him and took his hands, one warm and one cool, in yours. "I know that the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you're going to see some really terrible, awful things. But you need your rest, Buck."

He bowed his head. You knew he was mentally and physically drained, and that sleep was the one thing that would make him feel better- but it also threatened to make him feel worse. "I'm so sorry. I know you're reluctant to close your eyes and let your subconscious take over... but the longer you go without sleep, the worse you'll feel. Your body needs rest so you can heal." You tucked your hand under his chin and lifted his head so that his eyes met yours.

"Please, Buck. For me? Just lay down for a little while. And if you have a nightmare, you know I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere". He let out a sigh and leaned forward to give your lips a tender kiss.

“Okay. Yeah, um… fine.”

You turned off the lamp closest to you, but left the other one on so it wouldn't be too dark for Bucky.

You laid down on Bucky's left side and stroked his vibranium arm while he once again thanked you for everything. You leaned in and gave the scar that he hated so much a tender kiss. And you were happy. You were surprised at how comfy you could be sleeping on a wood floor.

You looked at your phone. It was 1:13am. Bucky mentioned in the past that he only ever got about 3 hours of sleep a night, so you hoped he'd at least make it an hour without a nightmare.

Unfortunately, you were disappointed. The screaming woke you all too soon. These screams were deep, painful, made your heart ache. You bolted upright and knelt at Bucky's side.

"Buck. Hey…" you whispered, but it didn’t rouse him from his terror. "Bucky-" you gave him a gentle shake but he was still trapped inside his mind. With almost all of your strength you grabbed both of his broad shoulders and shook him. "BUCKY."

With that, his eyes opened. A sheen of sweat coated his face. His chest rose and fell at an alarming rate. His eyes, full of alarm, glistened with tears. He looked at you, confused. For a moment, it seemed as though he wasn't sure if you were real.

"Hey, Buck…" you said, your voice soft. You gently put a hand on his chest and placed the other hand on the side of his face. "You're okay. You're fine, you're safe."

He screwed his eyes shut and sat upright. He bowed his head and rested it in his hands. His breathing was still erratic, and you scooted closer to him to gently rub his back while he caught his breath.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head and let out a sigh, "I am so sorry, doll." Shame coated his words.

"Sorry? for having a nightmare? Buck, there's nothing to-" he cut you off.

"I'm sorry for screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night and scaring the hell out of you. I'm sorry for making you worry, for constantly making you comfort and reassure me. And I'm sorry for making you sleep on the goddamn floor." He let out a huff. You could not comprehend how a man so kind, so gentle, so loving, so good could see himself in such a negative light. He didnt believe that he was deserving of any kind of kindness or comfort. And for that, you wanted to destroy Hydra yourself.

"James Buchanan Barnes", you began. "I will reassure and comfort you until you get tired of me or I die... whichever comes first". He let out a quiet laugh. "I do those things because I want to. I want to comfort you after a nightmare. I want you to feel safe when you open your eyes and see me next to you. I want to reassure you and make you feel loved. And I want to sleep on the floor with you, babe, because I know that that's where you're most comfortable." You gave him a wink as you finished and he cupped the side of your face.

"How'd I get so lucky?" he stroked your cheek. You smiled and leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for just a moment to take in the way he made you feel.

You opened your eyes. "Alright.." you sighed, "how do you feel about trying to go back to sleep?"

He rubbed the back of his neck with his vibranium hand, "I don't want to," he said. "But I know that I need to... and that you want me to," a small smile pulled at his features.

"You would be correct about that, Barnes". You kissed him on the cheek and the both of you laid back down. You checked your phone. 2:37am. Bucky had gotten about an hour and a half of sleep before his nightmare. You rolled onto your right side so that you could rest your head on Bucky's chest. He wrapped his vibanium arm around your back and the two of you drifted off to sleep for the second time that night.

At 3:19am, it happened again. This time Bucky wasn't screaming so much as he was groaning, like he was in immense pain. The heartbreaking sound only stopped when he would moan, "n-no, stop. S-stop. No. Please. No- STOP" before resuming his painful groans. Once again, you were at his side in a flash. Leaning over him, trying to gently rouse him from his nightmare, you called his name. But like last time, being gentle didn't work. He was so trapped in his terror that soft whispers weren't going to do a thing. So once again you shook his large shoulders, gentle enough as not to scare him but with enough force to hopefully get him out of his subconscious.

And then you were on your back. You didn't quite know what had happened- only that one second you were by Bucky's side and now you weren't. You felt like you'd been hit by a truck, the side of your face aching and throbbing. A quick swipe of your hand revealed blood oozing from your cheek. Suddenly, Bucky apeared above you.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" He turned on the lamp nearest you and saw the damage. Your left cheek bone was already turning purple, along with your left eye. Your brow bone had a gash on it that oozed dark red blood down the side of your face. You looked dazed. "Stay right there, okay? I'm gonna get you a towel". Bucky was gone no longer than a few seconds. "Can you sit up, doll?" He gingerly helped you sit up a bit and scoot over so you could lean up against the wall. He pressed the towel to your face and you winced. Your head throbbed.

"What happened, Buck?" You were genuinely confused as you looked up at him for help.

He bowed his head a bit. "I'm sorry, doll. I usually don't have someone here to wake me..." his voice trailed off and he got quiet. He looked incredibly ashamed. "I thi- I think I panicked. I was dreaming about being forced back into that chair to have my mind wiped. I was fighting against them. And when I woke up and felt hands on my shoulders, I fought back. I hit you before I even realized it was you."

And then it came rushing back to you- you leaning over Bucky and shaking his shoulders. Him struggling against your grip. Bucky screaming "NO" as the hard vibranium suddenly struck the side of your face.

You didn't know what to say. Of course you weren't mad at him. You knew he would never ever under any circumstances hurt you on purpose. Hell, he felt guilty when he would accidentally step on your foot or pull your hair even the tiniest bit. He was truly trying to save himself in that moment, and it had just been an unfortunate occurrence. But you already knew what was going through his head. Shame. Immense guilt. Self hatred. Torment. Anguish. Sadness. Fear that you would leave him.

He stared deep into your eyes, waiting for you to say something, anything. You took a deep breath and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"It's okay, Buck."

"Doll, no it's not-" shame overwhelmed him. "It's not okay. I hurt you. I made you bleed."

"Did you do it on purpose?"

He silently shook his head.

"Buck… I know you would never hurt me." You knew that you couldn't erase all of the shame and self-hate that he felt. But you could try.

Head still throbbing, you continued your attempt to ease his worry. “You told me that your night terrors were gonna be worse tonight. I knew that you weren't just going to sleep peacefully through the night.” The pain in your head kept hitting you again and again like relentless waves crashing on the shore.

You could see out of the corner of your eye that the towel Bucky was pressing to your face was turning darker red by the second, but you continued. “And hey, my mom kicks my dad in her sleep all the time and they’ve been together for thirty years" you let out a small chuckle, hoping to lighten his mood just a little. But the laugh made you wince. A small smile flashed across his face and you reached up to stroke his stubble.

"I'm not mad, Buck. I'm actually kind of sad that you were so scared you felt like had to protect yourself… We're gonna get through this together, okay? I promise."

He didn't know what to say. He leaned into your touch and nodded his head ever so slightly. You hated that this man who you loved so much saw himself as an irredeemable monster. He leaned forward, kissed you on the forehead, and whispered "come on, let's get a look at the damage".

He scooped you up with his vibranium arm under your knees and his other behind your back and carried you to the bathroom while you held the towel up to your face. He turned on the bathroom light with his elbow, walked you over to the counter, and set you down gently.

"How's it lookin', Dr. Barnes?" you joked. You could tell he didn't want to laugh or smile at your quip, but he couldn't help it. He rolled his eyes playfully and let out a little laugh. He pulled the towel away from your face and wiped the area with a wet wash cloth so that he could properly see the gash. It wasn't big, but it was deep. He appraised the first aid kit that he kept in his cabinet, but he feared that his meager supplies weren't going to be able to do much for you.

"Um, alright," he began with a sigh, "Unfortunately this kind of looks like it needs stitches. Or at least it needs a medical professional to take a look at it. I'm gonna give the med bay a call and see if there's anyone down there. Keep this right here" He said as he positioned the towel back over your cut.

He padded out of the room, found his phone, and had a quick conversation with someone in the med bay. "Okay, they're ready for you", he stated. You hopped off the counter but immediately regretted it. You felt like you were on a boat experiencing rough seas. Your vision was covered by what looked like black clouds. You felt yourself falling forward, but it seemed like it was happening in slow motion. Before you could hit the cold, hard tile, two strong arms caught you.

"Woah, woah, hey" Bucky exclaimed as he scooped you up into his safe embrace. "I hate to say this, doll, but I think you probably have a concussion". He looked down into your bruised, bloody face. "Yeah, concussion? That makes sense" you laughed. "I've got a wicked headache and I feel like I'm on a boat".

Bucky laughed. How were you still so funny and chipper after being hit in the face with the strongest material on the planet? He leaned down, kissed you on the forehead, and carried you to the elevators.

"Sargeant Barnes" you heard Dr. Cho say as you exited the elevators. "Two visits in one night? That's worrisome" she said. "Yeah, well, this time it's not me who needs a patch job". The doctor removed the towel that you were still holding against your gash and examined the wound. "Hmm, yes, this needs a few stitches. Follow me, James". Bucky rolled his eyes at the name and proceeded to follow the doctor down the hall and into a treatment room. He placed you gently on the bed and would not leave your side, even when Dr. Cho asked him to. Twice.

Dr. Cho was excellent at her job. She had the wound cleaned and the area numbed before you even knew what was happening. She expertly closed the wound with three perfectly executed stitches and stepped back to admire her work. "Doc" Bucky began, "I'm pretty sure she has a concussion, too..." He was worried and protective. He was going to make sure that you got the care you needed.

"Yes, James, I'm sure she does" Dr. Cho stated matter-of-factly. "But we had to handle the open wound first" she winked at Bucky. Dr. Cho tested you for a concussion as Bucky looked on. She shone a light in your eyes and assessed your dilated pupils. "Okay, Y/N, can you tell me what day it is?" Dr. Cho asked. You suddenly realized that you didn't know. "What about...how you got here? How did you get to this building?" Again, you drew a blank. "Have you experienced any dizziness?". You thought hard. "Um, no I don't think so", you stated.

It was then that Bucky chimed in. "Yes, she has." He looked at you with concern in his eyes. "She almost fell upstairs. She said she felt like she was on a boat".

Suddenly, a wave of nausea crashed over you. You didn't know why, but you were going to be sick. "I'm- I'm not feeling-" and before you could finish your sentence, Dr. Cho was there with a bin to catch your throw up. Bucky rubbed your back as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the receptacle. You were so embarrassed- here you were, vomiting in front of your super hot boyfriend. "Yeah, she's definitely got a concussion" Dr. Cho said. "The dizziness, inability to recall recent memories, vomiting, the dilated pupils. I'd say it's a moderate one, at that."

"You need to rest" she continued. "Drink lots of water, limit your screen time, and avoid any strenuous activities". She looked at Bucky and winked, which made him turn beet red. "I'll get you some icepacks for the swelling, but you're well on your way to a black eye. I'll also give you something for the pain, so just sit tight and I'll be right back". Dr. Cho left the room and Bucky sat down on your bed.

"What a night", he said with a sigh as he picked up your left hand and kissed the back of it. "Hey, I've had a concussion before", you stated, "this isn't my first rodeo". Bucky let out a loud laugh. It was your favorite sound. Hearing him genuinely laugh was music to your ears. "But, I've never had a black eye, nor have I ever had stitches. So I'm just crossing things off my bucket list left and right, I guess".

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully. "Having a black eye was on your bucket list?" he asked, with a skeptical tone. "Um, yeah, Buck. Duh. I want to look tough at least once in my life". Again, he let out a laugh that made your heart feel full. You loved making him laugh. You wanted to make him laugh for the rest of your life. "What am I gonna do with you, doll?" he asked, winking and gently cupping your face. "I don't know, Sargeant Barnes. But I have an idea-"

Dr. Cho entering the room cut you off. She handed you an ice pack for your eye and a bottle of pain meds. "You can take one of these every 4-6 hours. They may make you drowsy and a little loopy, so be careful." Bucky squeezed your hand. "Don't worry, Doc. I'll look out for her" He winked at you.

"Are we good to go?" he asked. Dr. Cho looked down at you. "You are free to go, Barnes. I need to talk to Y/N alone for a moment". Bucky was confused. He gave you a look and you shrugged, seeing as you had no idea what was going on either. "Um, I'll be right outside" he promised, as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Dr. Cho let out a sigh and sat down on your bed. "I have to ask, Y/N. I know you're kind of fuzzy right now because of the concussion but...he didn't do this in purpose, right?". You were stunned. You couldn't believe that she was actually asking you this question. No, the details weren't 100% crystal clear at the moment but you were absolutely sure that this was accidental. "Oh my god. No. No, he definitely didn't do this on purpose. I'm-I'm pretty sure he...I think he was having a nightmare? And when I tried to wake him up he panicked and I took his vibranium arm to the face. I'm almost certain that that's what happened. He would never hurt me."

Dr. Cho looked worried. “I just had to ask. With his history…I don’t know how safe it is to be with him.” Your heart began to pound and you felt anger building in your throat. “Bucky would never hurt me” you stated again. Dr. Cho didn’t look convinced but she helped you sit up anyway. "You can go, Y/N. But take it easy…and be careful".

She called Bucky back into the room and he helped you up from the bed. The two of you walked out of the med bay with his cool vibranium arm woven around your waist to keep you upright. In the elevator, Bucky asked what you and Dr. Cho had talked about when she'd asked him to leave the room. But you just couldn't tell him, you knew how it would make him feel- it would make him feel like a monster. "Oh, she just asked me some questions about my medical history," you lied. "I think you had to leave because of HIPAA or something like that". He kissed the side of your face that didn't have an ice pack pressed up against it, and then leaned his forehead against yours. "I'm so sorry, doll", he whispered. "I know, Buck. It's okay".

You kissed him gently as the elevator doors opened. The two of you walked back to his room and you weren't quite sure what was going to happen next. He had been reluctant about going back to sleep after his first awful dream of the night and now that the second one had resulted in you needing stitches, you were sure that he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

You, on the other hand, were tired and in pain. It was 4:26 in the morning and sleep sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world, but you were not about to let Bucky stay up all night alone. With his help, you laid back down and got comfortable. "You wanna join me?" you asked, hoping that he would oblige without having to be talked into it.

Bucky sighed. "I-I don't know, doll. I feel like sleeping isn't in the cards for me tonight, especially after..." he gestured to your injury. "That's what I figured," you murmured, fighting the urge to sleep. "We don't have to sleep. We can just lay here and talk. We can talk about anything you want." You extended your hand that wasn't holding the ice pack to your face and he just looked down at it. He pondered your offer for a moment, and eventually agreed. "Lay right here", you said, gesturing to your chest.

"Are you sure about that?" Bucky asked. "I don't think that's such a good idea." You rolled your eyes and gave him a smile. "Come on, babe. I always lay on you, it's your turn to lay on me. You have no idea how comfortable it is to use boobs as a pillow." He turned beet red and you gave a little chuckle.

Again, he thought your offer over. You could see the gears turning in his brain until he finally gave in to his curiosity. He gently placed his head on your chest and slung his right arm across your abdomen while his vibranium arm stayed down by his side. You knew he wasn't going to bring that arm anywhere near your face for quite some time. You started to lightly scratch his back with your free hand, and he let out an involuntary moan. "Is that good? Should I keep going?" you asked, and he nodded his head enthusiastically, making you laugh

"So, what do you wanna talk about?" you offered. "We can talk about literally anything". He was quiet for a moment as he mulled the question over. "I want you to tell me everything there is to know about you" Bucky said. This made you blush a little. "How about, I tell you one thing about me and you tell me one thing about you? And we just keep trading off", you said. You wanted to know absolutely everything about him, too. Bucky sighed. "Well...there isn't much for me to tell you...my brain kinda got scrambled. A lot. And I don't...I don't remember much."

You could tell that he once again felt inferior. "I know, Buck", you said, reassuringly. "Just tell me whatever you can think of. It doesn't have to be a fun fact about you from the 40's. How about I do your first one for you, okay? Here we go: you like plums." He laughed and nodded. And the two of you laid like that for a long time.

You told him about how you're allergic to horses and he let you know that he doesn't like Marvin Gaye. You told him about all the plays you'd performed in growing up and he informed you that he recently had tried this restaurant called Chipotle and didn't really care for it. You scratched his back the entire time, until you noticed that he didn't respond after you told him that you hate lima beans. "Buck?" you whispered. And then you realized that this gentle giant had fallen asleep on you. You smiled to yourself and closed your eyes, hoping that he would sleep soundly for a few hours.

The ringing of Bucky's phone startled the both of you awake. Bucky scrounged around on the floor until he found it and was able to answer. "Barnes", he said. "Yeah. Okay, yeah that's fine. Okay". He hung up and crawled back over to you, laying his head on your chest once again, and letting out a huff.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. "Um, yeah" Bucky yawned. "Just Clint calling to tell me they moved our meeting from 5 tonight to 7:30." You yawned, stretched, and resumed scratching Bucky's back. "Hey, what time is it?" you asked. He opened his sleepy eyes once more to check his phone. "Uhhh, 8:49" he stated, before shutting his eyes again.

"Wait, what?" you exclaimed. You took the phone from his hand to verify what he had just said. Sure enough, it was 8:49am. Bucky had slept for around for 3 hours since he fell asleep during your chat he and hadn't woken up screaming or thrashing from a nightmare. Not once. "Buck…You didn't have a nightmare!" you almost shouted. You kissed the top of his head and he looked up at you with wide eyes. "Oh, shit...you're right" he whispered. He was just as surprised as you were. You were so happy that the man you loved had finally gotten some restful sleep that you almost teared up.

"I don't know how that's even possible" he said. "Maybe you were just that exhausted?" you offered. He looked at you for a long moment, his eyes peering straight into your soul. "I don't think that's it. I’ve been exhausted for quite a while now…but I haven't slept like that in years. And the only thing I did differently was lay on you".

You let out a little laugh. "Buck, I don't think I fixed your PTSD-induced night terrors by just scratching your back a little". He looked at you with adoration and lifted his hand to cup the side of your face that wasn't injured. "Well it definitely helped. That was the most relaxed I've felt a really long time" he said.

"Well", you said with a laugh, "I guess you gotta keep me around, then".

He kissed you so deeply and so passionately that it felt like the two of you might merge into one being. He pulled away and gently placed his forehead against yours before whispering, "that was never a question, doll".

[christ0pher-evans]

Healed Heart

Final Part of the Shattered Heart Mini-Series

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: 18+ Minor Smut / Angst / Cheating / Arguing / Mentions of Divorce / Swearing Word Count: 2.9k A/N: So here is the final part of my mini-series. I honestly cannot thank you so much for the support on this, it means a lot to me and I love you guys for it!!! Please let me know what you think. I hope you’re happy with the ending because it took me a really long time to decide how I could finish off this story with justice. Thank you again, truly😘 Please reblog and like🖤

Part One: Shattered Heart Part Two: Troubled Heart Part Three: Bewildered Heart

 ♡

Three tortuous days had passed since you had last seen or spoke to Chris, three days since you kicked him out your home. You’d had nightmares about being in a loveless and hateful marriage, steamy dreams about your recent rendezvous and nights where you just felt so alone that you had cried yourself to sleep. It was safe to say that the past three days had been exhausting. 

Although fucking Chris in the kitchen during a harrowing argument probably wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done, it led to some realisations about how you wanted to proceed with your marriage. You definitely didn’t regret anything you said, or did with Chris that day and that was what you found important amongst the disaster. Not regretting your decisions meant that you knew you wanted to move forward in your marriage, and not look backwards; something you would consider a big first step in repairing your marriage. You knew you couldn’t forget what happened and would have to address it before moving forward but you knew you had the desire to push through the hard times. 

You’d called Chris that morning and told him that you wanted him to come home, not that he could or should but that you wanted him at home with you. Emotionally, it felt like the right decision, because at the end of the day he was your husband and you missed him. Practically, it is his home as well and it was the only place you could both be to sort out your marriage with privacy. You didn’t want to be surrounded by the media or by prying eyes. Hell, you didn’t even want the opinion of family or friends, this was between you and Chris only. 

As you tidied up the house a bit and thought about the moment Chris would walk through the door, it was clear to you that no matter how angry or hurt you were, Chris was your endgame. You had played all the variables over and over in your head loads of times, societal rights and wrongs about cheating when you realised, fuck society. You would never leave your husband over this, and that was okay. This was your story and who cared what anyone else thought, because you didn’t want to give up. You owe it to yourself, to your marriage, to try and fix everything before throwing it away. 

For the first few days, Chris slept in the spare room and you danced around each other, trying to find your new normal whilst you navigated the mess that was your marriage. 

Once the first week passed, Chris continued to sleep in the spare room and you finally plucked up the courage to address the problem that had been plaguing your marriage for weeks, months if you consider back to when the problem initially started. 

The day you decided to bring it up, you had finished work early and Chris was already at home when you arrived back around 3pm. 

Walking through the house, you finally found Chris in the home office. 

“I thought you were filming today?” Chris looked up at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh hi sweetheart. I didn’t hear you come in? Um, yeah I was but, uh.. she turned up to re-film some scenes so I came home.” 

You winced at the thought of her and Chris together but was quickly calmed by the effort Chris had made to avoid her. 

Clearing your throat, you found the courage to reply. 

“Oh, er, did you not have to keep filming?” Leaning against the door frame, you settled in for a longer conversation. 

“It wasn’t anything that I can’t just do another day when she isn’t there. I’ve got some scripts to read over anyway so it’s fine.” 

You sighed. This seemed like an appropriate time to bring up the unspoken topic so you could start moving forward but your anxiety felt crippling in that very moment, you didn’t know if you could face it. 

“Sweetheart..” Chris whispered, “Y/N, sit down, please..” 

You moved to sit down on the small sofa by the window, tucking your feet up and under yourself. Chris moved to join you, sitting fairly close but not touching you as you hadn’t crossed that boundary since he came home. 

“Look baby, I’ve been home a week now and we’ve just walked around this house like we are two strangers. I need you to talk to me, tell me what you’re thinking because you’re the one that told me you wanted me to come home?”

You looked up from your lap and straight into Chris’s eyes, “You do feel like a stranger to me.”

You heard his voice hitch in his throat, clearly caught off guard by your blunt answer. 

“I’m still me, sweetheart. I’m the same person you met seven years ago and I’m the same person you married four years ago. Please don’t think I’ve changed.” 

A lone tear falls straight from your eye, as you whimper, “I miss him.” 

It takes Chris no longer than a second to pull you into his lap, all boundaries obliterated, as he hugs you like his life depends on it. As you cry all you can hear is Chris repeatedly whispering, ‘I’m here. I’m still me. I love you.’ 

You shudder at the softened and sweet contact, something you hadn’t felt for weeks but you embraced it, leaning further into Chris’s chest for comfort. 

Once you had basked in the feeling for a bit longer, shutting the world and your problems out, you knew you had to move away. It would have been unfair to give Chris mixed signals as your marriage was still clearly on the rocks. 

Sitting back up on the sofa, you composed yourself. 

“I know you are still you Chris, but you’ve changed to me now. This you..”, you sigh before continuing, “..you’re tainted and untrustworthy, you’re the man that cheated on me, you’re not my husband. I need to get to know you again, and I need to learn to love our marriage again, and learn to trust you again. It’s going to take time.” 

“B-but you want to try?”

“Of course I want to try. Endgame right? That hasn’t changed for me but other things have to change, we cannot continue like this otherwise if something else were to happen, I don’t think we would survive it.” 

“I am infinitely yours sweetheart. Forever.” You watch Chris smile sweetly. 

Feeling slightly more confident and feeling like Chris has really been listening to you, you knew it was time to talk about her. 

“Okay, well whilst we are here, I think we should talk about her. It’s the biggest hurdle for me, and I can’t move past it. I just can’t deal with you seeing her right now, not whilst I’m learning to trust you again. I’ll never trust her so I need to 100% be able to trust you again.” 

Grabbing hold of your hand, Chris nods in understanding.

“That is completely fine sweetheart. For now, how about I just work my schedule around when she isn’t there and wait until you are comfortable before I finish filming my scenes with her? I don’t care if it postpones the film, or they replace me, you are more important to me than any film and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you!” 

You nod feebly, shocked and relieved with the instant commitment Chris was happy to make to save your marriage and earn your trust back. 

An awkward silence falls over the room at the monumental conversation you just had. Needing a moment to yourself, you decide to make a quick exit. 

‘Um, I think I’ll go and grab a shower before dinner.” Quickly leaving, you rush to your ensuite. 

The shower provided a solace to digest what just happened, a few tears falling as you feel overwhelmed. But you left the bathroom with a renewed sense of hope. 

It was another week of tough conversations and private marriage counselling before you felt you had reached another milestone in fixing your marriage. 

You were in the ensuite of your bedroom when Chris came in to say goodnight. He was merely wearing a pair of pyjamas bottoms that amusingly you were wearing the matching top of. 

He chuckled as he leant against the wall, “I was looking for that top.” 

You giggled lightly and blushed, using all your self control to not drool over seeing Chris topless. Unfortunately, you had never been good at hiding any of your emotions from Chris and you saw him smirk slightly at your flustered state. 

“Okay, well, I just came to say goodnight, so uh- night I guess..” 

You mumbled a goodnight back as Chris turned to walk out the room. A rush of affection from the interaction washed over you causing you to shout back towards Chris to catch his attention. 

“Um, stay..” 

You saw the startled look on his face as the words left your lips. 

“Stay with me tonight..”, you repeated as if you were confirming your own words. 

“Yeah, course I’ll stay, if that’s what you want?”, he shuffled back towards you. 

“It is what I want.” 

You smiled at him sweetly before you brushed past him and moved towards the bed, leaving him a bit stunned in the bathroom. 

Weeks passed with no problems. You and Chris had gone back to sleeping in the same bed and you often woke up snuggled together. At first, you’d wake and quickly move away from him however, slowly, you became comfortable with it and you were finally starting to feel at peace in his arms. 

You had woken up early this specific Monday morning as it was Chris’s first day back filming with her. You felt sick to the stomach at the thought of him seeing her again and had slept terribly. You knew this day would come and thought you would be, at least slightly prepared, but as the day dawned, you were scared. Nerves caged around your heart as your mind could only replay the moment Chris told you that he had kissed another woman.

Chris had to go back to work, you understood that. He had already put it off for a while and sacrificed enough of his job to try and reconcile your marriage. You almost felt obliged to let him go back to work, who were you to hold your husband back from his job? 

You were sitting in the kitchen, slowly nursing a very strong coffee when Chris came down, ready for his day. You glanced up at him briefly, barely acknowledging his words to you. 

“Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay? You’re up really early?” 

Glancing at the clock reading 7:30am, you shrugged and mumbled, “Woke up at 5:30am.”

You stared in the abyss, thoughts whirring through your mind. Thinking about being frightened to death about the thought that your marriage wasn’t even halfway back to where it should be. Knowing that Chris would see her today, spend all his time with her whilst you were waiting back at home for him. It felt like some sick and twisted de ja vu. 

It had been almost two months since you’d last been with Chris in any form of intimacy, almost four months since you were truly a happily married couple and now he was going to see her again, were you really debating that history would repeat itself? 

“Baby, will you talk to me? I can see something is on your mind”, Chris gently rests his hand over yours, bringing you out your nightmarish daydream. 

Looking up at Chris, taking in all his handsome features, you thought, how could anyone ever resist him. The thought panicked you even more.  

Learning from previous mistakes, you knew it was best to communicate to him how you were feeling. 

“I’m scared you’re going to see her again today and history could just repeat itself. Nothing is fixed yet Chris, and it feels like we are already going backwards.”

Just when you thought that being honest and communicating with Chris was the best option, it backfired in your face. Chris scoffed, a look of disgust on his face. 

“Huh, you’re not kidding?” Watching him run his hand through his hair, he turns away and slams his coffee mug down on the side. You jump at the aggressive action. 

“You really think I’d do that again? You really think that little of me? Have you not seen all the work I’ve put into this fucking marriage the past couple of months?”, he shrugs and turns back to you, “What else do you want from me Y/N?” 

You wince at his spiteful words. 

“I know you’ve put a lot into this marriage Chris, so have I! We’ve been doing really well, but can you really blame me for having doubts on your first day back with her? I thought you’d understand!” 

“No, I don’t blame you, but I thought you’d trust me more that this by now.” 

You chew on your lip nervously as you both stare at one another, terrified of the silence. 

“I’ve got to go to work Y/N, see you later.” You hear Chris huff before he walks straight out the house, leaving you sitting dumbfounded and anxious at your kitchen table. 

Trying to do any work from home was useless as you just felt panicked and couldn’t stop thinking about how Chris’s day was going. You hadn’t heard from him since this morning at it was now 6pm. 

After developing a painful stress headache, you decide to lay down in bed. Believing you can block the world out and briefly pretend that nothing is wrong in your marriage, you shut your eyes momentarily. 

FLASHBACK. 

Waking up so softly, you barely blink your eyes open as you feel tender kisses dancing their way up your back, following the line of your spine. You flutter your eyes open carefully, aware of the vibrant sunlight gracing your face as you try to focus your eyes, gradually making out the floor length curtains gently blowing through the breeze from your open balcony doors. You can hear the soft crashes of the waves and can see the soft, baby blue sky from your place on the bed as you stretch out all your limbs from an energetic night. You let yourself surrender to the feeling of Chris’s lips grazing against your bare body.

As he gradually makes his way up to your neck and cheek, you hum in utter happiness and contentment as he places one final kiss on your cheek as he leans over your body. You can feel every line and shape of his naked form as it presses up against you. You think about how you’ve never felt so happy and loved in this moment, knowing that this is exactly how you’ll get to feel for the rest of your life. 

“Good morning Mrs. Evans”, Chris roughly whispers, his voice hoarse from minimal sleep. He nibbles on your ear teasingly before grinding his core over your ass. You whimper at the feeling his movements evoke from you. 

“Mhm, I like how that sounds”, you mumble before smiling happily. The use of that name giving you butterflies. The one that now belongs to you, the name that now proves you belong to each other forever.

END OF FLASHBACK.

You wake with a start as you hear the front door slam slightly. You sit up too quickly, as you feel light-headed and your vision blurs slightly. You breath deeply, gaining your bearings before looking at the bedside clock. 7:30pm; you had slept right through dinner. 

Not that it mattered because you would have been eating alone anyway, you thought. 

Your body adjusts to being awake, your stomach fluttering slightly at the memories and feelings that the dream provoked. Momentarily caught in a fever dream. 

Back in reality, you brain registers that there was a slam at the door. Quickly, you get up and rush downstairs to see what is happening. 

As you halt at the bottom of the stairs and look out into the open plan room, you see Chris standing by the breakfast bar. The very same breakfast bar that holds so many recent heartbreaking conversations. But this time, it doesn’t bring you sadness. 

There Chris stands, holding takeout food in one hand and in the other, your favourite donuts. Behind him, on the wall, hangs the framed photo from your wedding day. Your matching smiles beaming on both your faces, almost as if they are lighting up the room.

You look back at him, standing here in your house. Bringing home dinner to you. Coming home to you. 

Your breath catches in your throat, “It’s you Chris, it’s always going to be you.”

You watch him place down the food on the side, before he begins striding towards you. Stuck in your spot, you can’t do anything but smile at your husband as he reaches you. 

“Forever yours”, you whisper before Chris’s lips crash onto yours for the first time in months. Your lips work together as your hands grip as his waist and his grasp your neck and face so you can’t move away. So you can only feel Chris, so you can truly remember the raw intimacy and passion between you. 

As your lips melt together, it feels as monumental as the moment he kissed you as you became his wife. It feels as if your story is beginning again; with a fresh start and a new-found hope for your marriage. 

 ♡

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[corpseveins]

it started to look like the beginning of a wonderful little love story. their meet cute could have been from any romantic book that ended in an epic love story on how they found each other in a small town. it couldn't be any farther from the truth. her love story to a sudden turn and became an absolute fucking nightmare. sookie could pinpoint the exact moment it all started to change. his entire act dropped in a matter of seconds. his eyes growing cold and heartless which fueled a desire so primal, it would haunt her for the rest of her life. before she could even register the sudden change, it was already too late to flee. his words washing over her like an ice cold shower, waking her up from the beautiful fantasy. she should have known this was too good to be true. she should have known luck would never be on her side.

the moment he claimed her body was the moment sookie would scream. her lungs released all the air they possessed and forced them into a harrowing bone-chilling scream. her hands would dig into his flesh, her nails scraping down his length. it did not matter how hard she resisted, he had pinned her down like a deer that was about the be devoured by the lion. the reflection of his fangs revealed the truth of his nature. the sting of his teeth sinking in her flesh brought a string of swears down her lips. " you motherfucker !! you goddamn vile creature. how dare you !! " her body trashed and kicked against his. if there was one thing sookie wasn't going to do, it was going down without the fight. it did not matter what he was or who the hell he thought he was. sookie was going to go down kicking and screaming.

when he finally released her, sookie had a hard time from standing upright and not falling over immediately. she tried to steady herself. the way her wounds closed up wasn't even something she wanted to register. instead all her attention was set on him and her white hot rage. " you are not gonna do such a thing !! what even are you ?! how dare you to defile me like that. you are a fucking disgrace !! " she shouted on top of her lungs, her body quaking. before she even registered it herself, she went down swinging, bring her fist up close to his face, yet never hitting him because her hand was taken in the blink of an eye. " motherfucker. " she swore once more, absolutely baffled he was capable of being this inhumanly fast. even when his feeding should have been concern enough, her brain hadn't caught up with her yet that this might be more then anything she knew or understood.

"i am very happy we have met as well, sookie." the vampire told her as another wicked grin curled up his lips, it may be for a different reason than she had but he was very very happy he met this beautiful waitress tonight. he felt her heart beat faster and faster as he looked into her eyes and got closer to admire her. if only she knew exactly what was going on in his mind in this moment. eric couldn't take it any longer - the smell of honey, sugar, and other sweet things were overwhelming him to the point where he could no longer hide his desire to drain her.

"i don't know what you are, sookie, but you just smell so fucking good." he growled in her ear as his fangs finally showed themselves. "i've tried to be patient because you seem like a sweet girl but i don't think i can take it any longer, i have to taste you. it won't hurt too bad sweetheart, i promise." eric told her, dragging his fangs down her neck, he loved to tease his prey and listen to their hearts race in fear. finally, it was time for the meal he was very much looking forward to. he pushed her up against a tree so she couldn't get away as easy and bit down on her neck, tasting her sweet blood. the wait was worth it, in all the humans he has drained, nobody had tasted this good. it was hard to stay in control and not drain her completely but he already decided he wanted to keep her around so he continued to listen to her heartbeat - listening for it to slow down just to the brink of death so he could stop and save more of her for later.

"don't worry - i'm still a gentleman, i'm not going to let you just bleed out on me already." he told her with a sadistic laugh, pricking his own finger with his fang and dragging his blood over her wound to heal it. "i can't let good blood like that go to waste, i must keep you around for now. i'll make you forget about this soon enough and we can continue our romantic night as you intended."

[lholland14]

I Choose a Lifetime of Happiness (Fran Kirby x Reader

[I changed some of the details of the actual game to fit the story]

"And Barcelona has beaten Chelsea for the Champions League with a harrowing win of 5-nothing!" The commentator yelled.

Alexia immediately ran over to me to hug me since I was the closest, but I dodged her hug in favour of comforting my girlfriend.

She was dejectedly sitting on the ground, obviously angry at her performance.

Super Fran Kirby, the love of my life.

Sitting on the ground, pouting. I have to admit, she looks adorable right now, even if I might sleep on the couch tonight.

I slowly walked over to her trying to create a mental encouraging speech in my head.

After preparing it I stuck my hand out in front of her. The second she took it and stood up, I abandoned all thought and did what came naturally. I hugged her.

I hugged her like there was no tomorrow, and she hugged me like I was her lifeline.

Thats the funny thing about Fran, she's like a drug. The second I have her in my arms I can't let go, and the second she's gone I need her back.

Maybe that's just love. The utter need for that person, living your entire life revolving around that one soul. Going to bed just to wake up to a certain face. Making a fool of yourself to hear the most incredible sound in the world. Telling embarrassing stories just to see a blinding smile.

Doing anything and everything just to make one person out of 7 billion happy.

Maybe love is just a choice to commit to someone, no matter the obstacles that stand in the way.

Maybe love is making that same choice, again and again, day in and day out, year after year. Never faltering, never pausing, just that same choice over and over.

And that's how I loved Fran Kirby, day in and day out, year after year. Never faltering, never pausing, the same choice over and over.

When I finally let go I felt like I couldn't breathe, but I was still living. Living in a moment of greatness, yet here I was not celebrating, but here with my girl.

I never doubted that choice.

"I'm proud of you." She looked up at me, smiling. I could tell that it was a hard thing for her to do.

"Y/n/l" My team started shouting at me to come over since the medal ceremony was starting.

I felt a burst of pride when I was awarded the gold medal and kissed the trophy.

However I frowned when I saw Fran's angry face when she took off her medal. I wanted to desperately hug her again but I couldn't since Vicky had the trophy in her hand to raise in our victory.

Throughout the champagne, my friends yells of joy, the confetti everything. I still looked back to my girlfriend, who was staring at me with a small smile on her face, clapping.

The second it was all over I swiftly grabbed the trophy and quickly walked over to Fran and kissed her, still holding the trophy.

She grinned at me. Suddenly all those hard practices, all those early mornings, all those stupid games all seemed worth it.

Screw it, if I lost and she smiled at me like that I would be the luckiest girl in the world.

"Here," I told her, replacing her medal with mine "You deserve it."

She looked down at it before replying "I don't need it" she smiled "Your already the best trophy I've already won."

I laughed and kissed her cheek.

At this point the Champions League trophy was completely abandoned and forgotten, but the photographers didn't forget.

The next morning I would wake up to a headaches worth of social media notifications and texts.

But all that didn't matter, only the person in front of me did.

------

After the game I had the unfortunate pleasure of media duties.

"Why did you not celebrate with your teammates after you won?" One reporter asked.

"Well," I started "Don't get me wrong winning the Champions League is a major feat, and I'm insanely proud of my teammates. However I can't celebrate when my friend is crying. "

"Winning is everything. Being first is everything. But being with my girl is everything to me. It takes a lot of work to get to the final.

'Form is temporary, class is permanent and it's going to take everything you've got to stay at first place.' that's what my high school coach told me when we got to our 3rd championships final. Thats stuck with me for years, and so has that winning mentality.

"Winning is fun... Sure. But winning is not the point. Wanting to win is the point. Not giving up is the point. Never letting up is the point. Never being satisfied with what you've done is the point." (Pat Summitt) I told the reporter.

"Winning means a lot to me, but it also does to Fran and in the end only one of us can win. This time it was me."

"Years later people are going to be talking about the current champion, not the one that happened 5, 10 years later." I smiled at the camera.

"But I'd choose Fran over a trophy any day." I grinned at Fran, who smiled back.

"I'd chose a lifetime of happiness over a moment of greatness"