#...different post i have already made somewhere probably
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Why Bucky is so different in MCU than in comics? (Analysis??)
I got some anon asks (that Tumblr, of course, deleted, because why wouldn’t they?) from my post why Clint doesn’t have an accent in adaptations and they wanted me to talk more about Bucky and what I meant by him being very different from comics. If you read my previous post, you already know the answer: the first MCU movies aren’t based on the main Marvel Universe (616), but more on Ultimate Universe (1610).
However, even though the answer is simple, I decided to point the crudial differences between 616!Bucky and 1610!Bucky and how their effected MCU version of Bucky. And when we will know the differences, we will be able to touch the subject why MCU Bucky is this way how he is and how he's like a little Frankenstein monster. Because, you know, MCU Bucky isn’t an exact copy of 1610 Bucky.
I’m not a Bucky expert, since I'm more of Hawkeye fan, and I tend to avoid the MCU (I don’t like it & I don't watch it). But I love rambling about comics and the story of comics, which is why I decided to answer these asks. I wouldn't be suprise if this type of post already exist somewhere, but I'm writing my own because a lot of people kept asking me lol.
Let's goooooooooooo!
1. What the hell is 1610!Earth?
I know there will be people who doesn't know a lot about Marvel comics universes or never heard about 1610, which is valid and I'm very very jealous of them, because I don't like 1610. If you read my previous post, then you know why <3
Every Marvel universe is assigned a specific number, like 616, 1610, or 1000. These are often referred to as alternate universes, and the shorthand "Earth-(number)" makes it easier to identify them. Earth-616 is the first made and primary universe—considered the "original" or "default" continuity where most Marvel comics are set. Everything outside of 616 exists as an alternate universe, essentially like a fanfiction of 616, but officially and legally published. Earth-1610 (also called "Ultimate") is one of these alternate universes.
Let me reiterate something I mentioned in my post about Clint:
The MCU was initially heavily inspired by the 1610 universe. That’s why Steve and Tony’s "friendship" feels so trashy, even though in 616 comics, Tony adored Steve. It’s also why Bucky is portrayed as Steve’s childhood friend rather than having the more father-son dynamic they had in 616. That’s also why Peter Parker feels so different from other adaptations—because he’s clearly inspired more by Miles Morales who is from 1610. In fact, they even took Miles' best friend, Ganke, barely changed his personality, and just renamed him Ned. It wasn’t until Endgame that the MCU shifted toward 616 comics—probably because they saw more money in it. Fans recognize more 616 than 1610 after all
The strongest evidence for this is seen with Clint. In the 1610-Earth, he's a war veteran, has children, a wife named Laura, was in super soldier program and is a SHIELD agent, just like in MCU. Meanwhile, 616!Clint is the complete opposite. I’ve gone into more detail in another post.
Here, I’ll focus on the differences that define the 1610-Earth, so you'll get the vibe. I won’t delve into every single detail (there’s a mountain of 1610 comics and I'm too lazy to write everything) but I’ll break down the most significant contrasts.
The 1610 universe is suppose be "darker", "serious" and often more military-focused than the "main" universe 616. In contrast, 616 is known for its of silly tones. While it has tackled dark and mature themes in many stories, its foundation was built on earlier comics aimed at younger audiences, where things were often less "deep" and more fun. The 1610 universe was clearly made as a more serious, grounded reimagining of 616 ideas. You can call it an "Edgy-Earth" if you want to.
Pretty much ALMOST everything in the 1610 universe ties back to the super soldier serum somehow and a lot of characters took it. For example, Nick Fury fought in World War II alongside James Howlett and were both captured and taken to a secret facility for serum experiments. Here, Fury was injected with the serum and became the super soldier. Later Thaddeus Ross discovered Fury was part of Project Rebirth, so he decided to inform him that the government was restarting the program and want him to join. Why? Because humanity needs to get ready for a looming genetic war with mutants. Fury takes charge and brings together a team of top scientists: Franklin Storm, Richard Parker, Bruce Banner, and Hank Pym (who is a teenager here) to work on Project Rebirth 2, trying to recreate the original serum that made Captain America. That didn’t lead to the best outcomes, for instance, Bruce Banner created/turned into the Hulk after testing the serum on himself.
The 1610-Earth officially ceased to exist in 2018 and not because the Marvel authors simply forgot about it, but because they decided to destroy it entirely. Literally, 1610 stopped existing for the plot. The survivors were selected (fan-favorite characters) and got brought into the 616-Earth. That’s how we now have Miles Morales hanging out with 616 characters, even though his origins are rooted in 1610. His memories of 1610 got erased, making him believe he was always part of the 616 timeline lol.
Thankfully, not everything in MCU was pulled directly from 1610—many foundational elements still come from 616. However, whenever you spot odd creative choices in the early MCU movies that don’t align with 616, there’s a good chance they were inspired by 1610.
Alright, now that we’ve covered the basics, it’s time to dive into the Buckys and how they were combined to create MCU Bucky. But before we jump into Bucky’s story in 1610, we need to talk about the original Bucky—the 616 version that comic fans knew and loved for decades. Why? Because we need a solid baseline for comparison. And if your only knowledge of Bucky comes from the MCU, buckle up. This is going to be a wild ride.
2. Who the hell is 616!Bucky?
We’re not diving into everything about 616!Bucky here. Instead, we’ll focus primarily on his life before he became the Winter Soldier, as that’s where the most significant differences between the versions of Bucky lie.
Bucky made his debut alongside Steve Rogers in Captain America Comics (1940) Vol 1 #1. Let's take a closer look.
Wait...
Who are you?
Ahhh, a child. A redhead child. In the 616-Earth, Bucky was a kid when he teamed up with Steve to take on Hitler. Not a normal soldier or adult, but a child who looked up to Steve.
At the time, Steve was a superhero with a secret identity and none of his military buddies knew who he really was. Of course, that changed later, but in the beginning, Bucky was the first (and only) person to discover Steve's secret identity. And that’s how Steve thought, “Well, if this kid knows my secret identity, I might as well make him my sidekick and give him a secret identity too.”
You’re probably wondering: why is there a literal kid in the middle of a war zone? What’s he even doing there? The answer’s pretty easy.
This issue of Captain America Comics was published in December 1940. Earlier that year, in April, another young character had been introduced who completely revolutionized the superhero comic world. Who I am talking about?
Well... Dick Grayson. Robin, the Boy Wonder.
To understand Bucky's first appearance, we need to start with Dick. DC wanted to soften Batman's persona and make him more appealing to younger audiences. What better way to achieve that than by introducing a young sidekick, an adopted son he adores, who helps him protect Gotham?
(Detective Comics: 80 Years of Batman Deluxe Edition)
It gave young readers someone to connect with and kids loves this kind of stuff. The idea was simple: “If Robin can be a superhero, so can I!” It was a big deal. Robin became the gold standard for sidekicks in comics. Sidekicks often serve multiple roles in fiction: they’re a counterpoint to the hero, provide an alternate perspective, or sometimes just act as comic relief. Robin was all of that and more, and kids absolutely loved him.
It didn’t take long for other publishers to catch on. Marvel noticed how successful Robin was and decided to follow suit by. That's how Bucky came to exist. He was a young, kinda sassy and relatable character fighting alongside Captain America and literally taking on Nazis, which must have been the very cool thing for kids back then. I’m pretty sure Marvel even gave Bucky red hair initially instead of black or brown, just to dodge any Robin comparisons lol.
For years before the Winter Soldier era, Bucky was often compared to Dick Grayson. Both of them had son-father relationships with their heroes (Steve acted as Bucky's teenager single father before Bucky's death). There was even a DC/Marvel one-shot crossover, Batman/Captain America (1996), written and illustrated by John Byrne. Bucky temporarily becomes Batman’s sidekick, while Robin takes on the role of Captain America’s sidekick.
(I absolutely adore this story because Bruce and Steve are total besties, and they’re both so incredibly soft toward Bucky and Dick aaaaaa)
Let's get back to the Captain America comics. Back then, comics weren’t exactly known for their logic. Of course, they're still lack logic almost all the time, but not as much as in 1940s. Nobody questioned why a literal child was running around in the middle of a war zone.
In storyline, he was called a mascot and here’s where it gets funny: actual military mascots are animals. Like, Poland had a bear named Wojtek who carried ammunition during WWII. South Africa had Corporal Jackie, a baboon who wore a uniform and saluted officers. Even today, Ukraine has Patron, a bomb-sniffing dog. But somehow, in the Marvel universe, the U.S. military thought: “You know what we need? A mascot. Let's grab a random orphan child,"
For a while, Marvel tried to make mantle of "Bucky" work a lot like "Robin". Some of characters picked it up after the original Bucky's death, like Lemar Hoskins, but the idea didn’t really stick. Unlike Robin, "Bucky" never became a legacy title.
At some point, the popularity of kid sidekicks started to wane a little bit, likely because the audience grew older and began to see the concept as a bit problematic or boring. Of course, kid sidekicks are still a standard in comics, but they often come with discussion in comic community about the ethics of the concept and questioning whether they’re just child soldiers. Some of writers also didn't like this concept, like Stan Lee who openly criticized it: “(...) One of my many pet peeves has always been the young teenage sidekick of the average superhero.” (Origins of Marvel Comics [1974] p. 17).
That's why Bucky’s death served as an explanation for why the Marvel Universe rarely features young sidekicks now. The idea was that no responsible hero would want to risk a kid's life after witnessing what happened to Bucky.
(Young Avengers [2005] #1)
This is everything you need to know about 616!Bucky for now. Let's leave this redhead kids alone and get into big guns.
3. Who the hell is 1610!Bucky?
Bucky and Steve’s backstory in Earth-1610 mirrors what we see in the MCU. Steve Rogers grew up in Brooklyn during the Great Depression, a scrawny kid who was often protected from bullies by his best friend, Bucky. Steve was an orphan after his mother died, so for a very long time, there was only Bucky in his life.
Like in MCU, Steve wanted to enlist in the Army as soon as the U.S. entered World War II. Unfortunately, his small stature and poor health led to repeated rejections after failing the physical tests. His luck changed during yet another visit to the recruitment center when Military Sergeant noticed him and recruited him for Project Rebirth. In the end, he became the first genetically enhanced American Super-Soldier.
Not suprisingly, Bucky Barnes stayed by Steve’s side during the war too. The only difference between MCU and 1610 is that Bucky didn't join as a soldier, but as an Army press photographer.
He was called a "newspaper-boy" by other soldiers, which is kinda cute lol.
Unlike his 616 counterpart, who served as a mascot, 1610!Bucky was portrayed as an adult, to make his involvement in the war seem more "logical" and to fit the "serious" tone of the universe. This likely explains why he was reimagined as a press photographer and not a normal soldier. 616!Bucky wasn't a normal soldier too after all.
The 1610 story unfolds in a familiar way with MCU: everyone believed Steve had died during a mission, and his body was never recovered—until it was found frozen in ice, where he remained for fifty years.
Everything is almost the same, right?
Once freed, one of his first priority was of course finding his best friend. And then he stumbled upon Winter Sol— Wait, hold up. Who is this guy?
Nope, Bucky isn’t the Winter Soldier in this universe. In fact, Bucky Barnes is ALIVE and very much an OLD MAN. Oh, and he also married Steve’s fiancée. What a good bestie, right?
You’re probably wondering, “San, why is this Bucky so different from the 616 version? WHERE THE HELL IS WINTER SOLDIER?".
Don't worry besties, I have an answer. It's pretty simple: 1610!Bucky first appeared in Ultimates #1 back in 2002, while 616!Bucky wasn’t brought back to life as Winter Soldier until Captain America (Vol. 5) #11 in 2005.
So, it wasn’t possible for Ultimate Bucky to be the Winter Soldier, because Winter Soldier didn’t even exist at the time.
They also never shoehorned the Winter Soldier storyline into the 1610 universe after 2005 probably because Bucky already had his own story—it would’ve just felt forced.
As we know, the MCU aimed to create more "serious" movies, so they initially based their stories on the 1610-Earth—a world filled with military and military and military and military. But I'm guessing that 1610 didn’t turn out to be as interesting as they hoped. So, what did they do? They started pulling things from the 616 instead.
The Winter Soldier storyline in 616 is one of the most iconic in superhero comics. When Bucky came back to life, it was a huge deal, because you know, some characters were basically “off-limits” for resurrection: Bucky, Jason Todd, and Uncle Ben. (Every of them came back at some point, but still people avoided doing it for very long time). So yeah, it shook things up. It’s no surprise the MCU wanted to bring Winter Soldier into their movies, especially since he was still new on the scene—he debuted in the comics in 2005, so by the time the MCU introduced him in 2011, he’d only been around for six years, which is pretty fresh for a comic character.
But since the MCU was inspired more by the “serious” 1610 universe, they couldn’t just copy the full 616 Bucky story. They had to improvise—like, how do you explain a kid in the military? It made more sense to make Bucky Steve’s best friend and erase all of Steve’s other known friends.
4. The conclusion
So there's a full answer to our question: MCU wanted the Winter Soldier, but didn't want to deal with 616!Bucky backstory, since it would be too much a trouble. Finally, we have the full answer.
I’ve seen a lot of people say that the MCU!Bucky basically took all traits of Steve Rogers’ childhood friend Arnie Roth—who was known for protecting Steve from bullies back in the day—and by doing that, erased comics' first openly gay character. Writer DeMatteis (creator of Arnie) even mentioned that he personally sees the MCU’s version of Bucky Barnes as being influenced by Arnie Roth’s story.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the MCU writers didn’t even know about Arnie—or if they did, just didn’t care. Because the real culprit is someone else. The Ultimate Universe’s Bucky is the one who took Arnie’s place as Steve’s childhood friend, and the MCU just followed that lead. Fun fact: Arnie in 616 was later diagnosed with cancer—just like 1610!Bucky. What a coincidence, huh?
I wouldn’t be surprised if 1610!Bucky was given a wife and kids to distance him from any potential comparisons to Arnie Roth and so fans wouldn't think he's gay. Of course, this is just my theory.
Let me know if you have any thoughts or different views about this subject <3 Like I said, I'm not Bucky expert, so I probably wrote something wrong in this post. It's probably the last time I'll ever touch the topic of Bucky lol.
Thank you for reading!
#agh i'm sooo tired after writing this#bucky barnes#steve rogers#marvel 616#marvel 1610#my posts#now i'll get back to finishing my barney and kate posts#i treat it as a little break from my long metas#mcu#marvel
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Me when I think my dad is cool and admirable
#the previous earl lost the game lol#like i think if ciel's dad came back from the dead instead of ciel prime that ciel would have the same im the earl reaction#i don't have a reading of this narrative at all that he's trying to be his dad or wants sebastian to be his dad bc number one i think...#...vincent only looks like sebastian bc that's yana's art style and number two it also gets on my nerves the really fandom-y brain to...#...assign found family into actual nuclear family roles. when ciel's whole house now is made up of relationships that are really only...#...defined by how much they all love each other. it's the opposite of what his life was like before where he was stuck in like. an older...#...brother does this and marries this and the watchdog does this and rich people are expected to be like this and a family is a nuclear...#...kind of family unit and that's honestly what caused madam red and ciel and ciel prime a lot of their problems pre fire#now instead the people in ciel's house care about their roles as maid and gardener and chef etc only insofar as playing that role is a...#...way to have freedom for them and it's a way to do things for ciel only bc they love him. not that vincent and rachel completely sucked...#...and didn't love their kids but it was the opposite of ciel's situation now and uh i don't think he wants it back or to recreate it#i think he sees his parents and the midfords as sheep just like of the rest of the rich people he complains about#it's a category 10 albert moriarty situation#he was raised in it so he understands just how destructive these expectations are madam red had the exact problems with the expectation...#...she should get married and have kids when i don't think she particularly wanted that to the point she had to convince herself she did...#...even though it felt unnatural to her and i think that's why she was so attached to the idea of vincent but anyway comphet madam red...#...different post i have already made somewhere probably#it's the same deal for ciel i think he thinks the way the rich people govern their lives is stupid and sebastian has both spoiled him and...#...made him feel like he's above all that and honestly that mindset genuinely informs a lot of this arc and the sheep motif#kuroshitsuji#my kuro posts#ciel
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Not aiming this at anyone specifically, but I’m genuinely so disappointed & annoyed at the fact no one in my real life circles bothered to reach out to me to check up on me regarding the recent Liam Payne/One Direction news.
#ignore if you want I’m just gonna vent a minute#it’s been over 3 days now & almost nothing#They know I was/am a fan of at least 1d or could take a pretty good educated guess if nothing else#& yet not one person who knows me personally bothered to ask if I was alright#And honestly… I’m not#I’m fucking struggling#it’s just so complex n confusing & I’m having a really hard time coming to terms with everything#I get it people are busy and have their own things going#& they probably don’t think it’s a big deal losing Liam as it was just a silly little boyband to them#but to me n to everyone who was there for those years it feels so so strangely personal#like a longtime distant friend has just been ripped away so tragically#& not only the tragic death of a person but the death of your adolescence & all the innocence of that time#the end of an era that had so much joy n significance in your life#& I know it’s probably not easy to tell I’m upset bc I keep my emotions pretty much exclusively to myself (thanks autism)#but honestly it’s just so invalidating and isolating to not have anyone to talk to#I already feel so completely alone in general bc no one ever checks in with me n stuff like this just solidifies that#I just don’t think it would have been so difficult just to drop a quick message to say ‘hope you’re okay’ or ‘thinking of you’ at least#it would have made a difference#& I know this post isn’t gonna matter to anyone but I just had to get my frustrations out somewhere bc it’s weighing on me a lot#anyway if you got to here thanks for your time n I hope you’re doing okay!!#feel free to reach out to me if you ever want/need to ❤️❤️❤️#wow that was a lot#personal#Kirsty talks#my posts#my stuff#1d#Liam Payne#one direction
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Just unlocked the Empyreum housing district, and while one part of me is rp-walking around enjoying the vibes and looking at peoples gardens, another part of me is monkey-style smacking at my keyboard to search up 'ffxiv get rich quick schemes'
#20 *million* gil for a medium plot. I'm gonna pass out. Not as bad as it coukd be but still more money than ive made in my entire time#playing this game so far. Just like irl having a multi-story home is a pipedream for my demographic 😔#I decided a few months ago that I wanted to get an apartment in the Empyreum once I unlocked it since it was permanent and I liked the vibe#of the building's exterior. FC house is in Shirogane and I'm getting much closer to Stormblood now so getting a room there is becoming more#reasonable. Idk how much security that has though. And the other day someone I met back in december hung out with me for a few hours and#then offered to a *buy me a house*. Just straight-up. No repayment or anything. Just so she'd have a new neighbour I assume?? She's very#big on the 'pay it forward' mindset and that was her only condition. Pretty much just 'be nice to people and help out new players where you#can' which. I was already going to do that?? Wild. That specific plot we were looking at is So Nice but is also in Shirogane which I cant#bid in yet. Different ward to the FC house but idk how I feel about things just yet. Pretty sure when we last spoke I'd ended up agreeing t#the deal pretty much but we havent exactly seen eachother since and im still a little unsure about accepting So Much Money from someone#+ living near them as an antisocial autistic person and the problems that brings. + Having potentially multiple residences in the same#district. + Even having a housing plot at all since it requires a permanent financial commitment. Even more so when its not my gil that goe#to waste if the house gets demolished because I got burnt out or couldnt afford to keep paying a subscription and log in on time.#Lots of uncertainties but housing also seems like something I'd *really* like to participate in and getting the full experience of having a#outdoor space too would be really nice. Original plan was Apartment in Empyreum and then a Medium House potentially somewhere else to get#the most out of the commitment. A Large would be too expensive and ambitious and too much space to work with honestly but a Medium has#just enough extra space and structure to feel worthwhile yknow?#idk im just rambling at this point but I've got decisions to make. And I should probably make them *soon* while the offer of#a free goddamn house is on the table. Dont wanna rush through things but it feels like I need to speed up from the glacial pace ive been#playing through this game at to unlock Shirogane even if just so I can visit the FC house more often (too cheap to ever teleport anywhere o#even pay for the airship tbh ✌️)#ghostprince posts#ffxiv#videogames#Did I just completely forget to type that the housing plot on offer is Shirogane is a small? Thats why I started talking about plot sizes.#And the talk of buying a Medium plot was very big on the '*if* I ever commit to permanent subscription to allow for housing'#I am. so tired right now. words are just slipping out my ears when i blink
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I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻
BANG BANG BANG ll
summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.
pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader
word count: 1.8k
contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really
a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.
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There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.
“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?
You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.
“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”
You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.
The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”
Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.
“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”
You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about three years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.
It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.
You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.
She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.
Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.
“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”
The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.
You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”
Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.
You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back.“ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”
Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.
next.
#x reader#x female y/n#x female reader#fanfiction#x fem!reader#squid game#choi seunghyun#t.o.p#squid game x reader#thanos squid game#squid game thanos#squid game season 2#squid game 2#player 230#squid game fanfic#fanfic#thanos x reader#thanos#choi su bong x reader#choi su bong#choi su-bong
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ꨄThe Wish List — S.R

masterlist + navigation
pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (established relationship)
genre: domestic fluff, comfort word count: 725 warnings: none!
summary: The plan was simple: dream out loud. Neither of you noticed when dreaming turned into planning.
author’s note: I clearly have something for written confessions. I’m new to writing on Tumblr and in English (which isn’t my first language), so please be kind. I’m open to suggestions / feedback, as long as it’s respectful :)
⋆ ˚。⋆୨✵୧⋆。˚ ⋆
It starts purely by accident. You and Spencer were waiting for food at a roadside diner after a long drive — post-case — the kind that leaves you emptied out just by what you saw, regardless of it’s outcome. You were toying with a napkin on the table, pen in your hand. Spencer noticed — of course he did — spinning a pen or folding a napkin provided tactile stimulation, which helps to regulate the nervous system, reduce anxiety, give your brain something to focus on, and—
Things we should do one day:
You scribbled on the napkin and doodled a little star at the corner.
Spencer blinks, shaking off his clinical thoughts, leaning over. “Like what?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Try every pie on the menu. Go see the Northern Lights. Pet a cow. Get lost on purpose.”
“Add ‘attend a meteor shower in the middle of nowhere.’ ” Spencer smiles, going along with your idea.
The next day, Spencer woke to find a notebook on his nightstand—small, soft-covered, with little stars and whales drifting across a navy sky. The cover was painted by you, no doubt about this. He could picture you hunched over the table with small lamp on surrounded by paint, long after he’d fallen asleep. Tucked inside was a note in your handwriting, a little crooked, from a rush, probably, but still so, so yours.
In case the napkin gets lost. I want to keep dreaming with you.
He ran his fingers over the cover, thumb brushing the edge like it might vanish if he didn’t hold it gently enough. On the first page, you’d written the title again, this time in blue ink and underlined twice:
Things We Should Do One Day:
And below, the first handful of wishes—pie tastings and cows and meteor showers—copied from memory. He smiled, softer than he had in days. Then he reached for a pen of his own — a green one — and added:
Read each other’s favorite childhood books out loud.
Have a pet that lives longer than our work hours.
Learn to make each other’s favorite comfort food.
Neither of you noticed how the journal shifted from ideas to intentions. From dreams to plans. “Should” started to be replaced by “will”, and “someday” started to be “soon.”
You hadn’t meant to write anything in particular when you opened the journal. Maybe you were just flipping through already existing notes, maybe to check off something you have already done. Through the pages you saw the usual — learn to make cinnamon rolls without a recipe, take a train somewhere without planning ahead—and paused when your eyes landed on something entirely new.
Marry you.
Your heart stuttered. That was it. Two small words written neatly, carefully. Circled twice — once in dark green, once in something lighter. Different pens. Different days. Which meant he’d thought about it more than once. Yet he hadn’t needed to say it out loud yet—just written down, tucked safe between dreams you’d already made come true and ones you hadn’t reached for yet.
So you picked up your pen — blue, of course — and wrote:
Yes.
You stared at the page for too long, without noticing how the key turned in the lock and the drop of messager bag on the floor.
“I’m home,” you heard Spencer calling from the doorway.
“Missed you,” you whisper, already crossing the room and hugging him tightly. His chin rested on top of your head, and his eyes flickered to the journal on the coffee table.
Spencer didn’t say anything at first, just walked over to pick it up, his fingers brushing over your reply. He looked up slowly, the journal still open in his hands. You gave him a small, soft smile, the kind that said, You already knew, didn’t you? The kind that said, I’ve known for a while, too.
“I didn’t want to rush anything,” he said, almost shyly. “I just… wanted it somewhere.”
You brought a hand to his cheek, feeling his stubble under your fingertips. “It is somewhere,” you whispered, tapping his chest with your free hand. “Right here.”
Setting the journal aside, Spencer kissed your hair — not a dramatic, but warm and gentle kiss. As gentle as your love, as gentle as the future plans your shared journal held.
Thank you for reading ! ♥︎
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#soft spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#reader insert#spencer reid fanfiction#x reader#domestic fluff#fluff#comfort
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What about something with secret fiancé reader where she’s very pregnant and they are at an OBX thing and Drew is just so loving and supportive and dotting on her and everything. No pressure to do this, just a thought, totally under stand if you don’t want to.
Let Me, Baby
series masterlist
warnings: pregnancy mention, fluff, third trimester softness, drew being doting, domestic vibes, casual dialogue, obx cast dinner
an: i love this idea so much, thank you anon! this lowkey inspired me to write a little blurb for like each month of her pregnancy so i’ll probably post that soon i just gotta finish it lol
By the time they pulled up to Madelyn’s place, the porch lights were glowing and music was already drifting out from somewhere inside.
She unbuckled her seatbelt with a grin. “I swear, if JD didn’t bring his mac and cheese, I’m walking out.”
Drew was already out of the car and opening her door before she could even reach for the handle. “You’re not walking anywhere. I’ll carry you to the kitchen myself if I have to.”
She rolled her eyes, but took his hand anyway. “I’m not that pregnant.”
“You’re in the third trimester,” he said, steadying her with one hand on her back. “You’re not lifting a finger tonight. Or walking more than ten feet.”
“I did laundry, walked the dog, and vacuumed today,” she pointed out as they made their way up the front steps.
“And I offered to do all of that,” he said, holding the door open. “I was overruled.”
Inside, Madelyn’s place smelled amazing—something garlicky and warm—and laughter came from the kitchen. Carlacia was leaning on the counter drinking a Topo Chico while Chase and JD were pretending to help her cook. Madison waved from the couch, bowl of chips in her lap.
Madelyn came over first, grinning. “Look who finally made it.”
“Traffic,” Drew said like an excuse, even though they lived ten minutes away.
Madelyn hugged her, then looked her up and down. “You look so good. Seriously, you’re glowing.”
“She always looks good,” Drew said, kissing her temple like it was second nature.
“I can hear you,” she muttered with a grin as she kicked off her sneakers.
“Let me—” Drew was already scooping them up before she bent down. “I got it. Go sit, I’ll bring you food.”
“I just walked in the door.”
“Exactly. That’s enough effort for one night.”
Madison snorted from the couch. “He’s been like this the whole time?”
“Worse,” she said, waddling (fine, maybe a tiny bit) over to the couch. “He tried to carry my water bottle to the bathroom this morning.”
“She was carrying laundry at the same time!”
“You were still brushing your teeth!”
“I’m efficient,” Drew said, appearing again with a throw pillow that he fluffed and wedged behind her back. “You comfy?”
“I was fine until you started fussing.”
“I’m not fussing,” he said, adjusting the blanket on her lap. “I’m taking care of my girl. Big difference.”
Chase popped his head around the kitchen door. “You two are disgusting. I mean that in a loving way.”
“Let them be gross,” Carlacia said, stealing a chip. “She deserves it. She’s carrying a whole human.”
“She reminds me every day,” Drew said, heading back toward the kitchen. “But still makes her own coffee like a rebel.”
“Because I like doing things for myself!”
“Yeah, and I like doing things for you,” he said over his shoulder. “So let me win once in a while.”
She leaned her head back against the couch, smiling. “If you weren’t cute this would be so annoying.”
Madison grinned. “Nah, you love it.”
She did. He came back a few minutes later with a plate that looked like it had been carefully constructed by someone with a culinary arts degree.
“I got the corner of the lasagna, no onions in the salad, and one of JD’s muffins before they all disappeared,” he said, handing it over like it was made of gold.
She blinked at the plate. “Are you psychic?”
“Just observant,” he said, then flopped down beside her and gently lifted her feet into his lap. “Eat. Hydrate. Relax.”
“Who are you,” JD muttered, walking by with a soda. “And how do I get someone like you in my life?”
“Grow a uterus,” Drew deadpanned.
Dinner was loud and easy, everyone talking over each other and arguing about whether JD or Carlacia made the better pasta dish. Drew made her another plate without asking and refilled her drink twice before she could even notice she needed it.
When they all moved out onto the patio afterward, she stretched out on one of the benches and Drew sat down, immediately tugging her feet back into his lap like it was his job.
“You good?” he asked, rubbing slow circles into her calves.
“Mhm,” she said around a yawn. “Still got some energy left, I’m not crashing yet.”
“Let me know when you hit that wall,” he murmured. “I’ll get you home fast.”
She opened one eye to look at him. “You know you don’t have to do everything, right?”
“I know,” he said with a small smile. “But I want to.”
Carlacia wandered over and sat beside them. “You two are kind of unfair, by the way.”
“What, ‘cause he treats me like royalty?” she joked.
“Exactly. Now my standards are all messed up.”
“He’s setting the bar,” she teased, nudging Drew with her foot.
Drew leaned down and kissed her knee. “Just taking care of my girl.”
“Okay, ew,” Chase called from across the patio. “Can’t y’all save that for not a group hang?”
“Don’t be mad just ‘cause your love language is roast battles,” Madison said, tossing a pillow at him.
Eventually, she started to fade a little—nothing dramatic, just the usual post-dinner slump—and Drew noticed without her saying a word.
“You ready?” he asked quietly.
She nodded and let him help her up, even though she didn’t need it. He held her hand all the way to the car, carried her leftovers, and made sure she was buckled before even starting the engine.
As they drove off, she looked over at him and smiled. “You’re sweet, you know that?”
“I better be,” he said, lacing their fingers on the console. “You’re doing the hard part.”
She laughed. “Pretty sure you’ve carried 80% of the workload tonight.”
“And I’d do it again tomorrow.”
Her smile stretched wider as she looked out at the road. “Yeah. I know.”
taglist: @maybankslover
#drew starkey x secret fiancee!reader#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x y/n#hidden vows#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey outer banks#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey one shot#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x oc#drew starkey obx#drew starkey#obx
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can you drop sinner’s lore or just more information about this oc?👀 you probably already wrote about this somewhere, but I can't find it(
No, I haven't posted much about her story (or any OC story) anywhere. With my original characters I tend to take a very relaxed approach; they're something I draw for fun, and their stories/personalities are revealed to me slowly, almost as if I'm getting to know them rather than creating them. That's why their story is subject to constant change, and I'm reluctant to post about them outside of my irl circle, because what if I change my mind about something, yk?
I recently found these two moodboards I made a long time ago of Sinner and Frankie from my Band AU, so I'm leaving them here! (more about sinner below↴)


For Sinner in particular, I was heavily inspired by 80s music (glam rock, hair metal, heavy metal, etc.). Each of my fictional band members is based on different musical genres, depending on what kind of music I'm obsessed with at the time. The 5 band members are at different stages of the design process (Frankie, Sinner, and the drummer (who doesn't have a name yet!) are the ones I finished; the leader and singer are still in the works).
It's taking me a while because I want to give them all a personal/distinctive aesthetic, but also keep their designs somewhat consistent - I want them to look like they could be in a band together (and in the same decade!) while being inspired by different eras and genres ranging from 70s rock to 90s britpop, and it's hard! That's why it's taking me so long to finish the whole band.
Sinner in particular has become my muse, the character I draw when I'm feeling burntout or just want to doodle. My friends and I always joke that she has orange cat energy (chaotic, not the brightest person in the room, but we love her for it). She loves dad jokes, beer, her bandmates, the rock n roll lifestyle, the road. She has a reputation for being a “player,” spending every night with a different girl (something that will make her entire relationship with Frankie a mess, as no one expects her to catch feelings or commit to a serious relationship). Big heart, laid back attitude, a thirst for adventure. Terrific guitar playing skills. Lives for the music!!!!
I love her so much and I feel like I’m doing her a disservice by describing her this way, because there’s so much more to her personality, but I wouldn’t know where to start! I’ve spent so much time thinking about her and imagining different scenarios with her and the rest of the band that summing up her entire personality in one post seems impossible! Maybe I’ll do an OC Q&A in the future so you can ask her directly :D
(re: the moodboards. I want to clarify that the musicians featured on the moodboards are there for aesthetic inspiration, and my characters are in no way inspired by their personalities or personal lives! I don't condone anything a man from the 80s has ever done/, and neither do I share their political views. Just wanted to say that before anyone takes it the wrong way! I'm just stealing their gender bc 80s men fashion is so lesbian coded to me.)
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Blooming Family Part 4 - He Shall Prevail
Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: In your past life on earth, when someone would ask you how you managed your job as a nurse with the occasional death of a mother during birth, you told them that you never took it too personal because you would never find yourself in their position. Then why were you now so adamant on giving your life for your pup? Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 5,497 Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Masterlist
⇨ Hey, guys! I‘m back to writing. 6 months and 16 exams later, I finally found time to continue my now called “Blooming Family” series. You have no idea how much I missed it.
⇨ Though I have to say, this will probably be the end of this series. Probably. I got rid of every idea about our little family in those four parts and I don’t believe I can offer much more dramatic and exciting plot.
⇨ BUT! I already announced a Prequel on how Mi'ytiar and the Reader meet. I’m still working on it and the process is going smoothly for now. This means, this is definitely not the end of our story, so stay tuned!
⇨ Want to join the tag list?
The metallic smell of human blood that usually made him wallow in delight, now made him feel sick. The feeling of human blood on his skin, which usually sent a rush of excitement down his spine, now made him want to cut off any part of his body that made contact with it. The sight of him tearing a human apart — hurting it, killing it — that usually sated his predatory nature, now made him want to gouge his eyes out.
Blood flowed as he cut you, his beloved one, open under Cahrein's watchful eyes. The red fluid coated first his claws and fingertips, then his fingers completely, and before he knew it his whole hand when he started to reach into you.
Your small, beautiful body, which he had worshipped more times than he could count, had long grown numb, unmoving, lifeless. Your big, gorgeous eyes that had held so much love for him were closed, sparing him to witness the moment should the spark within them extinguish.
He wouldn't let that happen, he was sure of it. He just needed time to close the long, precise cut and get the blood that was stashed somewhere here on the ship. He knew how to stitch you together, God knows how many times he had to do it when you were on your hunting trips together, though it was never this kind of wound.
But Mi'ytiar, your oh-so-loving and attentive mate, had done something quite unusual for his species.
With no profound knowledge of births, let alone human births, he witnessed the act of giving life for the very first time when you had been pregnant with Akail. Even without any previous experience, he just knew that Yautja births were quite different from human ones. Their Females wouldn't have suffered that much from pain during labor and because of that, his already devoting stance towards you seemed to reach new heights when you fought like a warrior on your very own battlefield. He was impressed just as he was scared.
So, when Cahrein had confirmed your suspicions on being pregnant again, Mi'ytiar did what every father on earth would and should do when a baby was on its way: he prepared himself. Mostly, Cahrein showed and taught him the necessities who had studied the human anatomy when you arrived on Yautja Prime for the first time — leader's orders. And because there had never been a human in their clan or anywhere near it, he had to travel some time to the nearest one whose location he knew.
That's how Cahrein learned and that's how he was able to brief his clan leader.
You didn't know, but if you did, you once again would not fathom how lucky you were because how many Yautja out there with a human by their side for whatever purpose would put that much effort into them? Would any of them sit down and listen to their healer drone about the function of the ovaries? Would any of them waste their time instead of just finding a replacement? Would they be here when the chance of saving you was like catching mist with bare hands?
Mi'ytiar did, a leader nonetheless.
And when he felt it wasn't enough, he did his very own research on earth. Stalking through hospitals, invisible of course, thanks to the Cloak camouflaging his massive form and hiding him from the human eye, he was taking everything in. He observed the humans dressed in white and dark blue clothes scurry around before he decided to follow one around.
At nighttime, it was much easier when the staff thinned out. This way he had a better chance to explore the hospital and find his way to the infant ward, discovering it by chance. Fourteen see-through cribs were standing in two rows inside the ward. Fourteen tiny human babies were lying inside, sound asleep.
So that's what they looked like.
For a moment, he thought about being human himself. Not for his own appearance but for the possibility of having a pup who looked more like you, his love. You were such a beautiful creature, but sadly, your genes were practically drowned out by his.
In the daytime, he was lucky to watch five women deliver their babies. Four of them did it the natural way while the fifth woman decided willing to do a c-section. Obviously unaware of what would happen in a few years, he gained very useful knowledge that day.
That's how Mi'ytiar learned and that's how he located the pup in your womb so quickly and pulled it out.
He tried not to let himself get lost in the sight of the newborn, squirming and screeching. As much as he wanted to admire the little boy, another paragon created by you, there was a more pressing matter at hand.
He gingerly placed the flailing pup down on the cold glass surface of the table and against your body, snuggled between your motionless arm and your side. With the greatest care, he angled his son's head to rest against your shoulder and moved your arm so it would keep him in place.
Mi'ytiar wasted no time in turning the Medicomp upside down and finding the needed surgical tools much faster that way. Thankfully he hadn't discovered anything wrong once the pup was free, no suspicious rupture or tear that needed stitching. He was deaf to Cahrein's words as he fixed the cut with wound clamps and started to mix a gel that was able to close a wound of any kind, size or depth.
When he was sure the gel was painstakingly spread on the already healing cut, he grabbed the syringe with the purple-ish fluid and inserted its needle in the crook of your unoccupied arm. There was a 50-50 chance that it would work on you. Sxánxik would close all internal damage and increase blood cell production in case of severe blood loss, though he didn't know if it would work on human blood. But there was still a chance since your DNA had evolved through years of infusions of Yautja blood.
"You should get her blood." Cahrein's voice finally found its way into his consciousness.
"Can't leave." Mi'ytiar growled, his eyes focused on the shallow movement of your chest, scared it would stop the second they would stray from you.
"You need to. There is no guarantee sxánxik works." Cahrein pressed, growing restless at his leader's tunnel vision.
He knew he didn't know what was going through Mi'ytiar's mind, and if he said he knew how he was feeling at that moment, he would be lying. It was obvious to anyone who had ever laid eyes on the Life-mated pair that there was a unique and special bond between the two of you. Yautja were caring despite common belief, but even the most affectionate and compassionate of their species would never come close to the emotions your human heart held for your Yautja. Adding the influence you had on Mi'ytiar, it seemed to be fated.
Soulmates, Cahrein believed you had called the both of you when you told him about certain fairytales your mother had read to you when you were a child. Though you had said it in a joking way, telling him it was something hopeless romantics believed in, he could see it in your eyes that there was some kind of hope there.
"Sometimes two people are destined for each other."
Your human nonsense would always make him scoff in amusement until there was living and breathing proof of you being meant for his leader. Two proofs now, to be exact. When you were able to give Mi'ytiar his long-denied offspring where their Females had failed, Cahrein started to be less derogatory about superstitions on earth.
"Fine." Mi'ytiar snarled, hitting the glass surface of the holo-map table on each side of your thighs with closed fists, only hearing a splintering sound as he pushed himself away.
When he returned, the overwhelming sight of your body made him freeze in the doorway when the automatic doors opened. He tried not to tighten his grip around the blood bag in his hand, tried not to let his claws pierce holes into it and spill the red liquid.
You were lying there, paler than you had been moments ago. Where he had positioned your arm so your pup was safely tucked at your side, the other one was lying along the length of your body. Just as your spread legs were dangling down the table, your hand was loosely hanging down where it had previously been grasping the edge in pain.
"Mi'ytiar."
Cahrein's voice was once again pulling him out of his own head before he could drown in dark thoughts.
"I prepare your home for your return." The healer told him when Mi'ytiar covered your naked lower body with one of your blankets that you always kept on the ship.
When Cahrein received no response from his leader, who was too busy getting the blood into your veins before filling syringes with his own to inject it into you, he made the usual farewell gesture and his holo-image dissolved.
As soon as Mi'ytiar could assess you as stable, he took his newborn — he was so tiny, Mi'ytiar was able to hold him with one hand as he fit so easily in his entire palm — and placed him in the crook of his arm, the upper body of his son pressed against his bicep. The typical instinct of a Yautja pup to hold on made his son immediately cling to him.
With a heavy heart at leaving you alone once again, he went through the ship to take the pup to its sleeping place in the sleeping quarters. Digging out more of the cushions and covers you had stashed away, he created a makeshift crib so his son wouldn't move in a fatal position or roll out of the pod by accident. When he was sure he could leave him alone for a moment, he put the pup down and returned to you.
You were still in the same unconscious state he had left you. With a pained, sorrowful purr he lifted you up and into his arms, the almost empty blood bag held up by his hand. The sight of you like this was hurting him more than any wound he ever got from an enemy.
Back in the sleeping quarters, Mi'ytiar put you down in the pod where the two of you would usually rest. And where the little one was probably conceived, he thought with his eyes looking over at the pup.
Since the ship was not equipped with the necessary medical supplies and equipment, he had to make do with what was available to him. All he could do now was let you sleep and heal. Should the sxánxik not do its job, his blood would do.
To distract himself — because looking down at the device around his left arm, the journey back home would take another hour — he picked his newborn pup up and started to rock him softly. He remembered your reaction when you had seen him do it for the first time with Akail, scolding him for hurling the pup around. Your words.
Trying not to let his amusement show too much on his face, he had explained to you that Yautja babies, even when they were mere minutes old, were quite sturdy. They could endure more than you would think and you had learned that in the following five years. To put it simply, Akail had been a menace when he wasn't a complete mama's boy. He had wanted to explore; first your home, then the clan grounds, and then the whole planet.
Mi'ytiar let out a chuckle-like rumble at the memory of an eager Akail running around, dodging his mother's arms that tried to keep him inside your home and from running around in the village. He had watched you both with mirth in his eyes but regretted it the second a grumbling laugh left his mouth. If it had been possible, he would have dropped dead when you glared at him with a very nasty look. Wincing inwardly, he pulled his figurative tail between his legs and came to your aid, grabbing Akail by the nape and lifting him up. Then you had looked at your son with an I'm-very-disappointed-in-you expression on your face and this time it was the pup that winced (Mi'ytiar almost too if he was being honest).
Like father, like son.
This one will be just as in love with his mother as his father and older brother were, he was sure of it.
Warm, soft and bright.
Those were the things you noticed first, even with your eyes closed.
The next thing your brain registered was that you could move every part of your body, although a little sluggish when you wiggled your toes and clenched and unclenched your hands. You were relieved that whatever happened to you hadn't paralyzed you.
Blinking, you opened your eyes and with a blurry vision, the very first thing you saw was a familiar but somehow unfamiliar metal pole that looked like an IV stand.
But that couldn't be. You should be the only human thing on Yautja Prime, so why…
"You awake."
You slowly turned your head in the direction of the voice. You could only make out a dark, tall figure standing in the doorway, though not tall enough to be your mate.
"Cahrein?" You murmured.
"Mhm."
Said Yaujta entered the room to inspect the stand, tapping the bag with a clear substance inside. He traced the tube attached to it with a sharp claw to the point where it was connected to the needle in your arm.
"Fascinating, I must say."
"What is this? Why is it here?" You asked and tried to get up, hoping the fatigue would wear off faster in an upright position.
With a deep rumble and a clicking of his mandibles, Cahrein gently pushed you back down. "The great Mi'ytiar always made sure you had everything you need should medical emergency arise."
"He did?"
Cahrein nodded with his head. "He traveled to ooman world to get whatever you need every time oomans developed their creations."
You looked at the healer who now inspected the red bag filled with your blood.
When you started to be more involved in the life of the Yautja, the possibility of getting hurt grew. It wasn't likely, as your mate never let you do anything that could cause even a bruise. Well, except, of course, mating with him.
When your already drawn blood expired, you would go to Cahrein so he could take new one for emergencies while you sat in Mi'ytiar's lap, his purring and his hands caressing you, calming you down. Despite being a former nurse you hated needles.
"How..." You coughed, your voice hoarse from not being used. "How long was I… asleep?"
"Six days."
"That long?" You whispered to yourself in disbelief.
You settled back into the soft cushions of your nest, watching the healer adjust the blood bag as if there was the perfect angle for it to hang. Ever the perfectionist.
You carefully lifted the arm with the needle inside while you grabbed a black woolen blanket to pull it over your body, somehow feeling cold despite the fire burning.
Doing so, you dragged your heavy-feeling arm over your stomach.
Your flat stomach.
You jumped up from your lying position, ignoring the stabbing headache.
Cahrein turned around, only needing to take one big step to be by your side, and was ready to scold you for going against your doctor's orders, but his words were dying on his tongue when you ripped the piece of clothing you were wearing open. Immediately, he averted his eyes and turned his back to you.
You may be his patient right now, but he had no death wish. Sure, he had seen parts of you in his role as the healer, but only with permission and in attendance of your mate. And said mate definitely didn't need to be in the room to witness his human being exposed in front of someone who wasn't him to instill that deep-rooting respect (and maybe even slight fear) in Cahrein.
You were oblivious to the internal battle of Cahrein who was fighting against the urge to make sure you weren't overexerting yourself and the fact that he couldn't do so without having to look at you. Instead, you were frantically tracing the faint scar across your stomach with shaky hands.
Baby…
Where was your baby?
Where was it?!
The maternal instincts were almost animalistic as they made you heave, your lungs starting to struggle to take in air.
It had been here, inside your belly, carried under your heart…
Why wasn't it here?
It should be… it should be…
Cahrein was really tempted to turn around when he listened to your breath getting more and more irritated and uneven. When he heard suspicious rustling, he spun around and grabbed the nearest cover to put it on you — the blanket you had wanted to snuggle into.
"Calm, (Y/N), calm." He purred as he pushed you back onto the nest when you tried to crawl out of it.
"My pup, my pup. Where is my pup?" You squeaked.
You were digging your nails into his skin, scratching it without leaving much damage. You weren't really a challenge to him. You were still weak from the blood loss and the week of bed rest. Had it been a female Yautja, Cahrein would have probably been dead by now. They were just as territorial and protective of their pups as you were right now.
"He is fine. He is with his father." He soothed you and tried to push you onto your back and into the nest. "I will call for him."
Still shaking, you ceased your resistance a little, allowing Cahrein to let go of you. Despite everything screaming inside of you to fight your way to your pup, your body in its state wouldn't even make it out of the room. So you settled down but kept your nerves on edge.
You were taking deep breaths in and out as you strained every muscle to prop yourself up into a sitting position, your legs tangled and angled to the side.
Tugging on the soft fabric of the blanket draped over you, you looked around the room. It was just like you remembered — all four walls made of smooth obsidian-like stone, the large window from the floor up to the ceiling behind your nest giving you the perfect view of the jungle-like valley beneath you by the cliff where the village was located on, the build-in shelves that mostly displayed your mate's most valued trophies, but also some of your possessions from your old home on earth like your books and your favorite pot plant, the futuristic wardrobe Mi'ytiar had made for you when he kept gifting you fabrics, feathers, fur, leather and such so you could make yourself clothes with the help of the Females.
It was home.
As your eyes swept over the room from left to right, they stopped when they spotted the small, wooden crib next to the nest. It had been Akail's when he was a newborn pup. It was lovingly and thoughtfully crafted by Mi'ytiar, while you had carved accents, patterns, and little figures into it.
Sure, Yautja Females had their own, traditional way of taking care of their pups, but you were human and your baby was partly human, so you wanted at least a little human influence in raising it. It's the only way you knew and were able to do it. Mi'tyiar let you take the reins since he had no prior knowledge himself. He was a first-time father and would just follow your instructions when you needed assistance.
That led to you unknowingly breaking a custom. Usually, at this age, the Female was raising the pup alone. The Male was barely involved during that time and would only take over when it was time for the pup to train as a Youngblood.
Mi'ytiar, on the other hand, the ever-loving father, was there by your side for every one of Akail's wobbly steps, incoherent mumble and mandible click. If he was human, you fondly mused, he would be that kind of a parent who would take photos and videos of even the most random event and unnecessary thing their baby did.
He was such a fierce and strong leader, callous and ruthless when the situation required it, a brutish savage if he was challenged, but when it came to his little family he was so soft and gentle like any human father or husband.
While you were spacing out, resisting the urge to reach over to the crib and check if the bedding was still warm, signs of a little life sleeping in it, you didn't notice the newcomers in your room.
"Yawne..." A voice sounded far away before you started blinking, refocusing yourself.
Your eyes snapped to the now much larger form standing in the entrance of the room holding a small, wiggling bundle in his arms, cradling it to his chest. His yellow eyes were solely on you, looking at you in disbelief as if he thought they were deceiving him.
Mi'ytiar pushed the bundle in his arms into those of Cahrein, who you barely registered walking in behind your mate, and made his way over to you in a few quick strides. Your eyes were fixed onto the thing your whole being was screaming for the most, but when Mi'ytiar cupped your cheeks with both of his hands, your whole attention was on him — your mate, the love of your life, your sun and your moon.
"Tahní." You breathed and put your hands on his, craving his warm skin closer to you.
He moved forward and gently put his forehead to yours, purring loudly into the otherwise silent room.
"I thought I lose you. I thought you die. Again." He grumbled, his eyes closed.
You lifted your head and placed a few kisses on the skin of his forehead.
"I'm a fighter. I thought you knew that by now." You chuckled, your voice hoarse.
Mi'ytiar grumbled again, not appreciating you making jokes when you had been on the brink of life and death.
"What happened?" You asked and pulled away to finally look at him.
Mi'ytiar — and you really had no nicer word to describe it — looked horrible. If Yautja were able to develop bags under their eyes, he definitely would have some. He looked beyond tired. There was a devastated but also relieved look in his eyes, you had no problem deciphering the reason behind it.
"I only remember how my water broke… how you carried me back to the ship… and the call with Cahrein." You mumbled as you tried to recall any memory you had stored in the back of your mind.
It was all blurry and tangled and you had no idea what happened when. The only thing you remembered with conviction was the pain. When the contractions started in that forest, it was far more manageable than the pain at Akail's birth. But when the labor was taking longer than it was normal, it got almost unbearable.
"What happened? How did he…" You trailed off as you glanced past Mi'ytiar and to Cahrein who was rocking the whiny bundle in his arm to calm it down.
"Mi'ytiar, please." You begged as you looked back at him, pleading with your eyes. "Please give him to me. I need to… I need to…"
The distress your body was emitting almost made him shrink away.
"Cahrein." Mi'ytiar grunted and reached out.
Cahrein, who was struggling a little with the fussing pup in his care, was careful not to accidentally drop it as he made his way over to his leader. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel at least some relief when the restless pup left his arms. The last thing he wanted to do was send you further down a spiral of frantic worry about your baby. He had seen enough Females going rogue for lesser reasons and experience showed to never stand between a mother and their pup. It was the last mistake you would make.
Mi'ytiar purred softly at the bundle before he turned back to you and offered it for you to take it. You eagerly engulfed it in your arms and the second you had a hold on it, the fussing pup settled down.
"Leave." Mi'ytiar ordered gruffly when you started to push down the only cover your body had, not taking his eyes off his son and his mate.
Cahrein bowed his head and quickly took his leave. He would talk about anything medical and the further necessary bed rest another time.
You didn't notice him leaving, too busy freeing your newborn son of the baby blanket that was practically drowning him.
You had knitted it when you were six months pregnant with Akail. He had been obsessed with it as long as he was a tiny pup.
Back when you were a nurse, some mothers had excitedly told you about all the preparations they had done before the baby was due. One of them had brought wool, knitting needles, and a half-finished blanket to her appointments. She had explained to you how she learned knitting only for her baby, so she could make all this stuff for it.
It was a sweet memory.
Mi'ytiar, of course, went on a trip back to earth and got you anything and everything you wanted and needed, even more than you originally needed, in hopes his offerings would please you. And you hadn't even needed to use much persuasion. Looking up at him with those big eyes of yours while rubbing the prominent baby bump was enough to prepare a ship and fly to your home planet the next day.
Sweet, sweet memories.
You were humming as Mi'ytiar crawled on the nest behind you, setting the blanket you had shrugged off to the side and pulling you on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and watched over your shoulder as you cradled your pup against your bare chest. You sighed in contentment when you could feel your son's skin against your own like it was the final thing you needed to reassure you that you were actually here, that he was real.
Without the baby blanket covering him, you finally got a good look at your son. And god, you didn't know you could fall in love a third time in your life.
He was perfect.
Unlike his big brother, he was the carbon copy of his father. While Akail did look like his father, having the same color scheme as him, the patterns were of opposite colors. His younger brother, on the other hand, didn't only have the same color pallet as his father, but the patterns of his skin were colored just the same as Mi'ytiar's. Otherwise, he didn't look much different from Akail when he had been a newborn — the same numbs on his head where his dreads would grow, the same thin and undeveloped mandibles around his mouth, the same arms and legs.
He was about the size of a human baby. It was incredible to think how big in size and height he would grow in the coming years.
You inspected every aspect of his tiny body, your fingers gliding over his torso and limbs, admiring every centimeter of him.
"You were right." Mi'ytiar suddenly said. "He was in abnormal position. He was stuck."
You stilled for a moment before you continued to coo at your baby.
"You begged me to get him out and I did. I cut in you and you…" He trailed off and grunted at his wavering voice. "You stopped moving when I pulled pup out. You were gone."
"No." You interrupted him and turned your upper body to look at him. "If I was gone, I wouldn't be here with you. With him." You moved your arms with your turned torso so his son was back in his sight. "I wouldn't be here to tell you how happy I am, to tell you how glad I am that you handled it so well. You saved his life. And mine too."
You shifted your pup into one arm to reach up and place your hand on his cheek. You didn't even need to pull him in for him to move closer and put his forehead once again against yours, closing your eyes. Since his anatomy made it impossible to actually kiss him, you decided that forehead-against-forehead was an acceptable compensation. Although it wasn't anything special, it felt so intimate with him that you didn't really miss the ability to kiss your partner.
"I'm here. I'm alive. I'm not going anywhere, Mi'ytiar." You told him softly, rubbing your skin against his like a cat. "Thanks to you I'm able to continue to breathe, to walk and talk. Thanks to you I'm able to continue to love you and live my life with you, my strong and handsome mate, and our pups."
You had so many other things to say to him, but you started to choke on your words. Tears were dripping down your cheeks.
You opened your eyes when you felt something rough rub the skin under them and saw him wiping away the tears with his thumb. His other hand came up and its thumb did the same with the tears coming from your other eye. Mi'ytiar looked fondly down at you, his head cocked to the side.
"Thank you so much." You mumbled, your voice a little shaky, and buried your face into his chest.
Mi'ytiar clicked his mandibles softly and carefully pulled you closer, making sure not to crush the pup between your bodies.
"Anything for you." He purred.
He felt the wetness dripping from your eyes to your cheeks and down on his chest ease after a while. And when you lifted your head to look up at him, you gave him one of those dazzling, soft smiles he loved so much.
Mi'ytiar wanted to reach out again, wanted to pull you closer and snuggle his face into the crook of your neck to smell your sweet, familiar scent he missed so much. But sadly a certain someone demanded your attention more loudly.
The pup in your arms started to fuss again, causing you to use both arms again to hold him tight against you. Shushing him, you nestled him in the crook of your neck and stroked his back.
Mi'ytiar let out a displeased grunt before he could stop himself, glaring at his son being in a place where he wanted to be just a moment ago.
You, of course, didn't miss your mate fixing the pup with a dismayed look and you immediately knew why. This wasn't your first baby, after all.
"Mi'ytiar, don't tell me you're jealous again." You grinned up at him, not even trying to hide your amusement.
"'M not." He grunted.
"You are."
"Not."
"Mhm." You hummed, unconvinced, raising an eyebrow. "Just as you were not jealous when Akail was occupying my boobs as a pillow for a year? Or when I tried breastfeeding with him? Or when he challenged you every time you came near me even though he had just learned to walk? Or when he-"
To silence you, he bit down into your throat and you immediately went slack. It was a somewhat trained reaction every time he would do that. Where a human would shut you up with a kiss, your mate bit you. A show of dominance, without a question, and you would lie if you said it didn't turn you on. The moan that would have proofed it had almost slipped from your lips.
"Not jealous." Mi'ytiar insisted gruffly and licked over the bite mark.
"Fine, fine." You mumbled, still a little dazed from his little display of power.
The two of you stayed silent for a while. The only sound was the occasional chittering and cooing of your son, who was looking up at his parents with his big, pale yellow eyes. They would grow more intense in color in no time.
"Did you already name him?" You asked and giggled when your pup tried to snatch up your finger with which you were drawing patterns in the air, moving it around in front of his face.
You watched as your pup finally caught your pointer finger and inserted it into his mouth. You laughed when you felt his gums chew on it. His teeth would develop only in a few weeks.
"The name you chose." Mi'ytiar grunted softly.
You hummed in understanding and snuggled your face into the side of your son's head.
"Hi, Toyah."

Tag List
⇨ Hey guys, despite having only some requests to be tagged in this part, I wanted to tag any and everyone who ever left a comment on one or more parts of this series. I'm seriously so thankful, you have no idea. Thank you so much for showing interest and voicing it. Thank you so much for your kind words that kept me motivated to continue this story. But, as I said at the beginning, this is not the end of Mi'ytiar, so lets hope we see each other on more of my works in the future!
@lil-lilacwitch, @zaky-ller, @eternalmoonshineofahopelessfan, @haleypearce @montybooks,
@ailujsenutna, @rorrika, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @mahirublue, @00justanolive00,
@mortuaconjuga, @victor-rose, @screechingenemy18, @thewitchesofart, @skibbiescoober,
@pyreemo, @han-sirentell, @dd122004dd, @milkzze, @wildaces,
@serendipitous-fernweh, @misspendragonsworld, @bunnymysteriously, @ladygrimmx, @thelrina,
@quaritcxswifewh0re, @imaginarydreams, @vintage-bumblebee, @blaxkmagix, @beelievit,
@blmcd57110, @mythirdlife235, @the-artistic-devotee, @jojooasis, @pipocfamily,
@bimboreader, @noname2246, @sawendel, @being-worthy, @xcol2sblog,
@panpandeep00, @maxismp1, @bastet222, @candyladycry, @crowleysthings
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gold rush



max verstappen x reader | 2.4k
max verstappen stands across the room from you at someone else's party. he's not yours, but he could be.
cw: cursing, perhaps overly introspective, allusions to sex, kissing, semi-established relationship without commitment, confessions, being desperately in love with max
a/n: this is a little different from my usual style. i...wrote it in two parts while wine drunk and yearny and listening to gold rush by taylor swift on repeat. it's a lethal combo for a girl, let me tell you. posting in honor of today's qatar win. i really like this one. please be nice to me. <3
--
It's torture.
Standing here across the room, glass in hand, watching.
He just looks so fucking good.
"Fuck me," you mutter. Some deep, animalistic urge tells you to bite clean through the rim of your wine glass. Chew on the shards until they're sand and swallow them easy as anything. It would probably be less painful than what you're currently doing.
Watching.
The object of your scrutiny straightens almost imperceptibly. A minuscule lengthening of his spine invisible to anyone who isn't examining his every move. For someone who is watched more often than not, you're surprised he feels your eyes on him.
But he does.
Max Verstappen turns away from his conversation partner slightly, a barely there shift of his chin to glance around the room. Blue eyes like the fucking ocean or some other cliche you can't think of right now. His focus face, you've called it. That got him to laugh, once, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes driving your heart into a frenzy.
Evaluating, cataloging. Looking for the racing line and finding -- you.
Leaning back on the wall not ten yards from him, wine glass in hand.
You're going to heat it up with your palm holding it like that, he'd told you once. You have to hold the stem.
They teach you that in Monaco? you'd teased.
Flirtations. One of a hundred, a thousand. Nothing memorable for him, you tell yourself. Each conversation an axis-shifting event for you.
It's embarrassing, actually. To want someone this much. To be one of millions.
But you know. You know how he looks in an empty room, how he mutters to himself when he folds his laundry, how he straightens his shoes against the wall of every hotel room.
You know him.
Maybe that's why this is dangerous. You've got ammo, you've got evidence. You know that Max Verstappen is like the rest of the world. A boy who wanted desperately turned into a man who has everything. And still wants.
Is that what binds us all together? The depth of our longing?
Max finds your gaze and holds it. The girl he's talking to -- pretty, smart. You know her peripherally -- keeps speaking, hand not holding her drink waving in the air, eyes focusing somewhere above his hairline.
Lots of people make this mistake. It's all in his eyes, if you can stand to look at them. Everything he's feeling. A challange that, once met, melts into an open door. He'll show you everything if you just step over the threshold, invited or not. Sometimes all we want is someone to bang on the door when we're already in bed. Make us get up, come downstairs. There you are. I was waiting for you.
The eyes tell you everything. You take a long sip of your wine and he watches, jaw ticking. He didn't shave today. The light stubble makes him look older, though you know his heart. Fluttering like a boy's, yearning like a child's. He wants just like you do. If only you knew what and just how much.
I don't know what comes next, he said. His head in your lap, hair soft and golden between your fingers. What else is there?
So much, you said. You traced the line of his nose with the pad of your thumb. That's the best thing about it.
About what?
Life.
There is a world in which you came to this party together. Distant, fuzzy. You mussed his hair with your hands after begging him to leave the gel on the shelf. He kissed off your lipstick before you made it out the door. The steady beat of his heart under your palm in the doorway, a sure reminder of the dip he makes in the universe. Your center, always orbiting around him.
Reality is louder. More crowded, smells like champagne and burnt pastry. It's a room full of people where you can only look at one. Where he's looking back.
You jerk your chin towards the back hallway, the one the leads to the bathroom only the girls go to in pairs. To debrief, to prepare. A secret from the hostess meant for moments of reprieve. At the very least, you'll need one of those.
It you're lucky, one of those will come to you on two legs and stormy eyes.
Could you be imagining it? Wouldn't be the first time you lived in your head a little too long. But -- fuck. The dreams you've had. The way you've looked at your life and slotted him into it. It's almost too easy, a game with no stakes. But the buy in is steep, nonrefundable. How you got here is irrelevant. You have to pay up.
You wind your way through laughing people, velvet dresses and barely buttoned shirts. Sparkly eye shadow and satin bows, well-wishes and chaste kisses. 'Tis the damn season, indeed.
The hallway is quiet. No one in the bathroom, the door hanging open, light off. You lean back on the wall, glass loose in your fingers. Eyes closed, wondering if you'll wake up somewhere else. Somewhere you want less, somewhere your blood isn't singing, isn't begging you to get closer to him.
"You look nice," Max says. Your lips curve into a smile, a smirk, a grimace. Are they not all the same around him? Teeth showing, muscles out of control. He bypasses all of your sense, worms his way into your bloodstream with just a word.
"Thanks," you manage. Eyes open, now, and fuck, you feel it. Right in the chest, like a punch that digs beneath your ribs and takes its pound of flesh.
Max looks good. You saw it from across the room but here, in front of you, you can see it more clearly.
There's something about him. A boyishness that remains around the eyes, the mouth. Hopeful mischief, maybe. Eternal youth, promise, faith.
God. This would all be so much easier if you weren't in love with him.
He studies you. Takes his time, gaze tracing the lines of your face. Your brows, your lashes. Nose, lips. Lips. His eyes stop there.
"You were staring," he says. Never one to back down from a challenge. Never one to let you off easy. It's a compliment, the way he drags you to the ring. Keep up with me, he's saying. Make it interesting.
"Yeah," you say, slowly. It drips out of your mouth, lingers in the air between you. "You look good."
His eyes flash. You're meeting his expectations. Always hard to live up to those, when the standard he holds himself to is so damn high. He expects you to climb up that mountain, too. If only to show that you're wiling to. That he's worth it. That you want to.
And he does look good. Max values honesty above most things, but his cheeks flush all the same. It's pretty, not that you'd tell him that. Maybe one more glass of wine and you would. It's not an original thought, far from it, but you reach for him all the same, liquid courage loading the barrel and cocking the gun.
You cup his cheek, thumb pressing to the corner of his mouth. Like a marionette with his strings cut, he sighs. You breath with him, leaning in. Everything else fades away, the world turning around the place where his skin touches yours. Palm on his stubbled cheek, eyes locked like you're moored to each other.
This is why you haven't let him go. Because it's like this. It's insane.
And Max knows it.
"What are we doing?" he whispers. His throat bobs and he looks unsure. Not an expression you've seen on him very often, but maybe that's the punchline.
This matters to him. Maybe as much as it matters to you. He leans into your palm and the fingers of one hand curl around your hips, pressing hard enough to bruise. He carefully tugs your wine glass from your grip and sets it on the thin table in the hall before crowding you agains the wall.
"I don't know," you whisper back. You're close enough that he must feel your breath on this lips. It's inexplicable, this feeling -- you should know. You've tried.
He reorients everything, you've said over and over again. It's like I'm seeing the world for the first time, but with him in it.
His breath is hot on your lips. "I need you," he says. "I --" He swallows. Pupils swelling, mouth set. You half expect him to pull on a racing suit and get in the car.
"Max," you manage. It's not a surprise, not really, but it stings the way that only the things you want can. "I--
"Nothing else is like this," he says, sounding more sure than you've ever heard. "No matter what, or who, it's not like this. I'm always thinking of you."
Something inside you crumples. Your very bones, maybe. Your heart, surely. He can't just say these things.
"Don't say if it you don't mean it," you manage. Your throat is thick, tears resting just behind your eyes. It makes sense to no one else, this love. This passion, this soul tie.
"I mean it," he says, voice steady. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask this of you, but I am. I'm asking."
Love me. Stick by me. Tell me you feel it, too.
You close your eyes again, but what appears behind your lids is no less than what's actually happening to you. This is the stuff of dreams, the deepest part of your heart that beats his name.
"I don't know how to do this," you whisper. His lips drag from your pulse point to your ear.
"Me neither," he replies. "But we have to try."
"I've wanted you for so long," you gasp. His fingers have snuck under the hem of your shirt, nails scratching up and down your back. "Max--"
Your name is a prayer on his tongue, a blessing, a benediction. A plea. You've never felt so safe as when he is at your altar.
"Let's go," he says. "Let's get out of here."
The where doesn't matter. The how, the why, the when. It doesn't matter.
Sometimes, things just happen the way they are supposed to. Lovers unite, reunite, and love. Is that not enough?
"Bet you say that to all the girls."
Your voice is hoarse, ragged. The opposite of his well-honed determination, his tunnel vision. You wanted this, didn't you? But you're stalling. Having and wanting are different.
"No," Max says. "Hey, look at me."
For all your talk, you keep doing anything he asks. It's so easy. You are so safe in his hands, even if they burn.
He presses his lips to the corner of your mouth and you open your eyes. Despite the drinks you watched him down they're clear. Ablaze with certainty.
"Max," you whisper. His nostrils flare.
"Just you," he says. "You have me. Just you."
He does this thing, when he's away. You bought him a keychain -- a lion, of course -- on a whim. Figured he'd throw it in a drawer somewhere and forget about it. But then he sent you a photo from a country you've never been to, holding up his keys, the lion dangling in the sunlight.
You get photos from all around the world, now.
Maybe...maybe, you can believe him. Maybe you can take. Maybe dreams can bleed into waking.
What else is there to do? His jaw ticks, lips parted as he exhales. You feel it, warm and shaky. That won't do.
The kiss doesn't surprise him. It's inevitable, a corner he's driven in his sleep, the finish line that always waits for him. Max always knows where he is going and maybe he knew you were on the way here, too.
And god, does he know how to kiss you. You're the one who leans in but he takes the wheel quickly, one hand pressing into your lower back under your shirt and the other dragging up your ribs to settle on your jaw. He licks into your mouth like there's a secret to find, like he can peel back your layers and find your heart in his palms, beating in time with his.
Nights in his bed, slow mornings watching him wake. Phone calls just to hear you breathe, texts and gifts and hints that, if you'd just say so, this could be more. This could be it.
But he's waited. You realize he's waited for you.
"You have me," you say, pulling away with a gasp. His lips chase yours, hovering so close that every word makes them brush. Your hands are woven in his hair, noses pressed together. Almost one person. "Max," you breathe. "You have me."
There are a thousand ways this could go wrong. Even if your world orbits around him, even if his heart is magnetized to yours, a star in the sky always pointing north -- reality is not so kind. It will be hard. No one will understand. People will want what you have, what you will hold dear for the rest of your life.
But it doesn't matter. Because Max -- a world champion, a boy who wanted who became a man who had everything -- is holding you. He smiles so wide it spreads to you, two smiles pressed together in the dim light of someone else's party.
"Okay," you whisper. "Okay, let's go."
He kisses you once more, sloppy, teeth clacking, and grabs your hand. Out of the hall, through the party, barely a word for anyone else. Everybody wants you, you told him once. Hm, he'd said. I don't know about that.
But he gleams. He shines, flushed cheeks and bright eyes as he looks back to check that you're still there. Squeezing your hand in his, a man on a mission. Following that racing line all the way home, all eyes on him. But he knows where he's going.
Out of the party and onto the quiet street, breath floating up and away in excited puffs. Under the streetlight Max looks ethereal. Beautiful, boyish, in love. He's a dream come to life.
Your dream. Looking back at you like he's thinking the same.
He says your name like he's been looking everywhere and finally found you. Reaching the end of the road, throwing the door open and falling to his knees. An answer. The answer.
He kisses you on the empty street. You fall, and fall, and fall.
Together.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#mv33 x reader#mv33#f1 fanfic#my writing#fic: gold rush
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Hehe lol just something self indulgent for "A Loving Family, An Unpalatable Desire" bcuz its my birthday today>:DD (may 18)
Thinking about how reader isnt used to celebrating birthdays bcuz bruce isnt interested, no one of his children cares, atleast alfred greets.
So when its with the supers, shes surprised with loving kisses and warm hugs from jon and clark, and lastly, a cake.
(OUYGHHHH take this super rushed doodle bcuz i am tired from celebrating. Also take care of ur health vro 💔💔💔🔥🔥🔥)

— masterlist !
THIS IS SUCH A LATE POST BUT BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY !! everyone say happiest birthday to one of my favorite ever artist who's been supporting my series since day one !!! i love the details here, your clark's style is very much giving my adventures with superman which is one of my favorite animated series'! ngl if i ever get a hug like that, i would've melted, everything about this art made me actually feel the joy emanating off of it wow.
and yes! you are so right, the mc from the loving family series never really celebrates their birthday, or if they do, it's always spent alone or the day after since most of the times, alfred is busy tending to the family from within the batcave after a mission. and even so, he can only ever bake a smaller cake for you or at least something that can only be shared with one or two individuals or eaten alone, even if you insist that he does bake one for the entire family despite them never really asking for whom or what is the purpose of your cake. they all just eat whatever's in the fridge and never ask why there's a celebratory dessert in the first place — most assume that steph probably bought it out of spite, or just another treat. damian does remember your birthday, and he's spareful enough to not even bother you during that day but that's only it, as much as you wish for someone other than alfred to greet you.
but that doesn't matter as much anymore the moment you're integrated into the kent family, you'll be woken up to jon jumping up and down your bed whilst clark is busy peppering your skin with kisses, wrapping you around his arms while you can feel the skin of his chest on your back and whispering affirmations in your ears. i'll bet you that they've woken up extra early just to cook up all your favorite dishes, so the aroma of it alone is already wafting around your bedroom. even if it's food from different cultures, or even cravings that you have only ever-so vaguely mentioned to clark, he's ensured to tell his own parents about it days prior to your birthday so that they could learn the recipe for it. it's your special day, so the family insists that you don't even lift a finger to help out.
after all, ma and pa kent are so welcoming and are always insisting that they be the ones cooking up all the celebration food and even a bigger cake for you to share with their other neighbors. you best believe that their homemade desserts are 100% better since it's a family effort — jon insists on slathering on the frosting and lettering despite how flimsy and uneven it is, which opens up so much opportunities for you both to play around with the design, whilst clark is off somewhere gathering all the freshest ingredients around the farm because he believes that his beloved spouse only deserves the best for their birthday.
it's not a grand birthday with them, it's quite the contrary, but the intentions are what makes it better than whatever you're used to, than the silent night at the manor or how your birthday is always seen as just another day. clark's gifts would always be something invaluable, something priceless but inexpensive like a new pair of shoes you've mentioned always wanting in just a passing moment, or even an article of clothing that complements his own. ma and pa kent would gift you baby pictures of clark as a means of teasing him, they'll also make you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, or even a basket full of fresh crops from their latest harvest. jon's gifts would always personally made by yours truly: best believe it would be one of the most heartwarming letters paired with some DIY craft that he spent his entire night making with the help of his dad, hence why he insists that you stay out of his room — much to his own disappointment — for just that night; but it'll all be worth it since your own little son loves watching your fond reaction.
and if you don't just want gifts, and would rather just want to spend moments with your family, then you best bet that you, clark and jon would be off flying over the horizon together, or having a picnic by a park, maybe even a day spent in an amusement park where clark would win both you and jon a lot of the prizes just for him to see that smile of yours. that would be more than enough.
(maybe even a free trip to space is something they can organize, just say the words and they'll commit to it as soon as possible. clark would even go as far as naming a star after you or bringing you a piece of an asteroid if you're so much as fond of extraterrestrial gifts too).
anyways, tysm user luffyadolover for this gift and i hope this short drabble would suffice !!! i also don't mind writing for any requests you have as a late birthday gift to you <3
#🧁... yael's misc.#series: loving family unpalatable desires#lf ud: fanart#yandere dc#yandere batfam#yandere superfam#yandere superman#yandere superfamily#yandere jon kent#yandere clark kent#yandere#yandere dc comics#soft yandere#yandere fluff#yandere x gn reader#yandere x female reader#yandere x reader#platonic yandere#romantic yandere#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#neglected reader
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Hello! It’s me again :3
So you already covered that you think sandwings are punk and what you think seawings styles are. But what do you think the other tribes aesthetic’s are/how they dress? Thank you for your time!
Hi! thanks for the question! This was an amazing chance for me to explore more alt styles!
Goth Icewings: why it would(n't) work
About the Goths
Museum of youth culture defines goth as a music genre, fashion scene and cultural bubble usually pertaining to a 'dark' aesthetic, stating 'Goth developed from various other youth subcultures, including punk... in the late 1970s to a more commercial visibility in the 1990s. ' It has the same loose political origins as its punk cousin, even if these ideologies are slightly less visible/represented through mainstream media. in the context of the icewings, I think goth would be more about the ice/nightwing feud - specifically as a promotion of peace and unity between tribes. I'll talk more about that later, as this post explores the many ways goth fashion could work - and not work - on Phyrria.
There are also a handful of other cultures/fashion styles I can see being present in rural icewing villages, which I do plan on exploring in the future! The only reason I chose goth this week was because I was listening to goth music and ended up liking it a lot.
The Magic Behind the Makeup
Now that we understand what Goth fashion means to Phyrria, the bigger question remains: how the FUCK did they get to look like that? Figuring this out actually ended up being pretty difficult the more I thought about it, because there are a number of different logistical issues that arise when it comes to dragon makeup. For one, Icewings have little to no access to fire - any dyes or makeup would have to be either imported charcoal, squid ink, or other pigment - which would be expensive to northern villages. Secondly, applying water-based makeup must be a literal nightmare if you life in the tundra. All products would have to be oil-based (which is actually not too unreasonable, given that the Icewings have unlimited access to seal fat.) But still, would these products even last? The short answer is no: goth icewings would need to be seriously dedicated in order to consistently dress this way. (Although, that does add well to the peace message.)
but moving on to the 'hairstyles,' what are icewings doing to achieve this? For sake of this headcanon, I am going to assume the spines don't have nerve endings, and are also able to move with enough time and pressure. Using enough wires and pressure, Icewings may be able to give themselves 'braces' for their spines - twisting them into the right shape over the course of a few years, and keeping them in place using the nightly retainer routine. (I can feel your mouth hurting right now.) but hey, it would certainly hurt more if the icewings tried to use a straightener.
I imagine there are some permanent things you can do to become goth, like dying your spikes with ink or getting a tattoo. Clothes could also be made to last - or alternatively, 'tattered' clothing could just become part of the look. You could also argue that the goth look would be easy to achieve if it were born outside of the icewing kingdom but pioneered by icewings, somewhere like jade mountain.
Why Jade Mountain, and Why not now?
I imagine goth fashion would be more than controversial, both in and out of the icewing kingdom: especially given how violent (and a lot of the time unprovoked) nightwing violence on icewings is. My best example is definitely from book one, where Morrowseer has the nightwings slaughter all 6(?) icewing prisoners in Queen Scarlet's arena. While these dragons would've probably died in the arena anyways, the attack could still be interpreted by icewings as and act of hatred. So, the ideals behind goth fashion - striving for diplomacy, peace and an end to the conflict - are probably not fit to live in the same timeframe as any of the current books.
Knowing this, I first argued that the best place for goth fashion to go would probably be Jade Mountain Academy. Being the only place where young dragons of both tribe can interact without being in an explicitly violent setting, it could be a good starting point toward healing, grieving and discussing the feud. And this totally could've started during the JMA arc, but...
There is one small roadbump that prevents this happy ending.
Darkstalker's secret 4th power: Ruining Everything
JUST when the nightwings were out of the volcano and under a more reasonable leader, JUST when the sandwing succession war ended, JUST when a school opened specifically for teaching intertribe peace... Darkstalker (the bitch) decides to re-heat his own nachos and literally try to kill every single icewing via plague. And then fight them on top of a school.
Ultimately, I do think there is a place for Goth fashion in Phyrria, the same way there is a place for peace between the nightwings and icewings. But both of those things would require a time, effort and open-mindedness - as well as recognition of the wrongs committed on both sides, and ample opportunity to grieve.
Adopts! Wow!
I promised I would start making adopts to go with these fashion posts, and I am determined to commit to this. So, this lovely dragon you see above you is going to be available in my Kofi, right here! I named them Permafrost for my own convenience, but you can do whatever you want with this guy when they belong to you.
I'm literally scrambling to post this on time so I'll keep it short, but thank you all so much for your support! My pinned post contains a navigator toward any and all of my other fashion posts, as well as links to my discord server + socials. AND I SAW YOUR FASHION REQUESTS AND I LOVE THEM!
Later ( =ω= )
#wings of fire#wof#art#character design#wof redesign#icewing#wof icewing#icewing wof#goth#wof fashion
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Sorry new landoscar fan here, I kept seeing the notion that Oscar was Lando’s fan for years, but I can’t seem to find any info about that?
ofc babe ! I store a lot of it in this tag but I think a little roundup post is probably due - heads up this is not in chrono order bc a lot of it is referenced from recent content:
2015 and Oscar making the big move to the UK to join Ricky Flynn and his fanboying of Lando begins
tiktok compilation of Oscar revealing his chronic Lando content consumption well before they were teammates
compilation from twitter of Oscar's decided bias toward not only liking Lando content but also searching his tag and finding posts that sometimes had barely a few likes (and this was just going back to 2017)
Oscar knowing when Lando's maiden podium was (and Lando calling him a nerd)
the 2020 hornet tweets because Oscar watched the stream of Lando battling 2 hornets in his house x x
Alpine Oscar 'interviewing' Lando and Alex on Sky in 2022 and the quote from Lando that he hasn't raced Oscar "yet" and Oscar well basically staring at Lando
2021 Oscar citing Lando's social media inspiring him to use humor as a way to open up to the public more (added landoscar angst here bc the hate and abuse he received after alpinegate seriously made him clam up and between that and him being fairly in awe of Lando, meant that Lando himself didn't rly get to know Oscar's humor until fairly late 2023 - like, no one should underestimate how Oscar entered F1 properly and got to know one of his favorite drivers all while being universally despised and painted as a villain/cold/evil - how much could have been different if one team had simply kept their mouths shut until verifying that tweet first esp when Oscar was already a shared reserve driver w McLaren anyway !!!!)
the beloved Oscar and Max F at Renault Academy lore
this post I made is a mess but the anecdotes he can only know from Lando's or Max's streams streams or Quadrant videos: Lando making stickers and selling them at school; Lando's snoring lore could be because of the thin shared walls but also Max has def brought it up before; he definitely already knew the story of Lando falling from a window trying to break into his own house; and the fact that we got Max reacting to Oscar referencing Max's outrage at Lando forgetting his birthday
it's a bit too scattered to compile but trust and believe Oscar has been a carlando girlie from day one - def the bromance but idk I feel like he's read a fic or twenty
watching Lando's career when asked about his idols coming up
and backing that up, him in 2019 saying the same thing
EDIT: his mum Nicole saying he would choose Lando as his ideal teammate going into F1 because the expectations of him wouldn't be too high since everyone knows how good Lando is
pulling out the it's Friday theeeen Lando meme
being so addicted to Lando content by 2020 that he actually fanboyed about the LN4 admin interacting w him
EDIT: he then followed it up by creating a sort of ship name for himself and Lando ???
EDIT: Lando's kart and the number 481 !!
EDIT: how could I forget Oscar submitting this old photo of Lando to a meme page in 2023 but he literally had that photo somewhere saved
EDIT: how could I forget the hornets saga ??
EDIT: 2016 Oscar likes Lando telling people to turn him notifications for him on
and ofc K's beloved Oscar primer has a lot of context about all of this more fleshed out!
I think that's everything but if anyone notices I've forgotten anything lmk !!
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Heyy could you write something about Pau Cubarsí being jealous but it’s not a normal thing because he usually shrugs it off but this time some guy really got on his nerves? 🩷
només tu
pairing: pau cubarsi x reader
summary: in which a random guy flirts with you and it gets on your boyfriend's nerves
warnings: none!
a/n: i tried putting catalan into it instead of spanish so lmk how it is!!
pau had never been the jealous type. not once. not even when he probably should’ve been.
he was quiet, steady—the kind of boy who didn’t need to raise his voice to take up space. he didn’t have to prove anything to anyone. not on the pitch. not in interviews. not even when someone was clearly trying to flirt with you right in front of him.
and you liked that about him. the way he trusted you, the way he trusted what you had. you felt it in the little things—his fingers brushing yours under the table, the way he’d glance at you and smile like he already knew you were his.
but tonight? tonight was… different.
the dinner was supposed to be casual. just a little post-match thing with friends and a few people from the club. pau had played the full 90 and you could still see the faint marks of the game on him—grass-stained socks, a tiny red scratch on his knee, his curls still damp from the shower.
he sat beside you, relaxed and quiet, his hand resting on your thigh under the table in that gentle, familiar way. he wasn’t saying much—he rarely did—but he was there, completely. tuned into you like always.
then someone new showed up.
a guy from the media team. not a player, but familiar enough to be bold. he sat across from you and started talking—fast, confident, a little too smooth. and somehow, all his attention landed on you.
you tried to be polite. really. but he kept going. kept leaning in. kept laughing at things you didn’t even mean to be funny. touching your hand when you reached for your drink, brushing your knee under the table like it was nothing.
and pau… wasn’t smiling.
his hand tensed on your thigh, just for a second. then he shifted, sitting up straighter, eyes focused now—not just on you, but on him.
then came the comment.
“so… you and cubarsí? didn’t peg you for the quiet type. thought you’d be with someone more, i don’t know… fun?”
he said it like it was a joke. but no one laughed. and you barely had time to open your mouth before pau spoke.
calm. quiet. and sharp enough to silence the whole table.
“maybe she likes quiet.” a pause. his voice low but clear. “maybe she doesn’t need someone who talks too much and says nothing.”
you felt it before you saw it—his hand gripping yours under the table. firm. grounding.
the guy across from you let out a weak laugh, trying to brush it off, but no one really picked it up. the conversation moved on. awkwardly.
pau didn’t.
when you were walking back to the car, the night air soft around you, you finally broke the silence.
“you alright?”
pau didn’t answer right away. he was looking ahead, jaw clenched, curls falling a little over his forehead.
“i’m fine.” then a pause. “i just… didn’t like the way he was talking to you.”
you stopped walking, tugging his hand until he faced you. his brows were furrowed, lips parted like he was still figuring out what to say.
“he wasn’t anything,” you said gently. “you know that, right?”
he nodded. looked down. then finally met your eyes.
“i know. it’s just…” he exhaled, like the words were stuck somewhere in his chest. “he looked at you like you were something he could win. like i wasn’t even there.”
your heart softened instantly.
you reached up and brushed your fingers through his curls, tucking one behind his ear.
“pau… mi amor… you’re always there.”
he leaned into your touch, eyes closing briefly like it calmed him. then he opened them again and whispered, “ets meva, no?”
his voice was barely audible. catalan. a little unsure. a little possessive. soft in a way that made your heart ache.
“sempre,” you whispered back. always.
he stepped closer, slipping both arms around your waist now, pulling you in until there wasn’t any space left. the city could’ve disappeared around you and he still wouldn’t have let go.
“no vull compartir-te.” i don’t want to share you.
you smiled, pressing your forehead to his.
“you never have to.”
then you kissed him—slow, certain, sweet. and when you pulled back, he still looked a little serious, but softer. more at ease.
“you’re really not used to being jealous, huh?” you teased gently.
he laughed under his breath. “not until you.”
taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @hollyf1,@mxryxmfooty, @halfwayhearted, @landoslutmeout , @meganesanchez, @linnygirl09, @spidybaby,, @vicolette lmk if you want to be added!
#fc barcelona#football#footballer x reader#football imagine#pau cubarsi#pau cubarsi x you#pau cubarsi x reader#pau cubarsi imagine#pau cubarsi fic#pau cubarsi x y/n#pau cubarsi fluff#pau cubarsí oneshot#pau cubarsí x reader#pau cubarsí x you#pau cubarsí#pau cubarsí x y/n#pau cubarsí imagine
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Away from Him
SYLUS X NON-MC! READER PT. 2
Part 1 Part 3
REMINDERS:
I do not own the characters, this is simply a story that I made up inside my head.
Sylus is a very green forest guy, his attitude here is very different to his real personality.
I'm not a professional in medical topics and the medical terms that I used are just based on my research.
The plot and story line does not follow the events in the game.
MC, Sylus, and other characters' personality and behavior here are not the same as what's in the game.
I'm a first-time writer so please be understanding with the wrong grammars and misspelled words.
Expect that I probably did not use tumblr correctly because this is the first time that I will post an au here.
If this is not your type of story, please scroll up and ignore this post.
Some scenes that are like the scenes from other works are pure coincidence. I never intended to copy anyone's hard work and this is based on my imaginations alone.
Please differentiate real life and the real lore of the game from this fanfic.
Open for constructive criticism but be mindful of your words.
Rafayel woke up. He had the feeling that he should visit you and invite you for breakfast in the café. He got ready and got outside his apartment to knock on yours. After what feels like forever, you still haven't open the door. He's starting to get anxious so he decided to call your number. To his disappointment, you are also not answering your phone.
He is an over-thinker and it doesn't help with the situation so he decided to go at the front desk and ask if you went outside. “Hello, good morning. Have you seen a girl go out earlier? the one that lives in 502”. The receptionist shaked her head, “So far, no one has come out yet. People usually go at 8 am and it's only 6:39 am”.
The answer does not satisfy Rafayel’s overthinking— He some what hoped that you just went somewhere to buy something or do anything. “Can I view the CCTV footage— if you don't mind?” The receptionist hesitated at first but as she look on Rafayel’s face, she knows that he's eager to find that girl— to find you.
“Are you a stalker or what? Stalking women can be punishable by law, you know?...” The woman looks at him, wanting answers before letting him see the CCTV footage.
“No! I'm her friend, here's the proof,” Rafayel showed his phone to her. There's a video that he took last night— he films the surrounding buildings as you both walk to the building of the apartment. The camera happened to capture your smiling face as you look back to Rafayel.
“Look at the date, I captured this last night.” Rafayel pleaded. The woman looks at him in a suspicious way.
“Ok... Because you live here and you showed me that video, I'll let you view the footage from earlier. But once something happened to her and there's a police officer looking for you, I won't hesitate to give your information to them... Got it?” The woman crossed her arms.
“I promise that I'm not a stalker! She just won't open the door after all the knocks I did... She's not even answering her phone either.” Rafayel tugged his shirt as panic rush to his chest.
The woman sighed in defeat and turned the rotating monitor to him. “Here’s the footage... I already replayed back to 4 am. Just click the fast forward or replay button and check it for yourself.”
Rafayel said thanks to the receptionist and he did exactly what she told him to do. After minutes of checking, he never saw you on the footage. “Something’s wrong...”.
He said goodbye to the receptionist and run to the elevator. He clicked the button of the fifth floor in a hurry. When the door opened, he did not waste time and sprinted towards the door of your apartment.
He knocked again as loud as he could but you are still not opening the door. He called for your name but he did not get a reply from you.
“This will be so embarrassing if you were just in a deep sleep but it's better for the situation to be like that than anything else bad happening.” He murmured to himself as he continue to knock.
He gave up on knocking on your door and grips his hair out of frustration. He wants to believe that you're fine and you're just a heavy sleeper but something— that he does not know— is telling him that something is not right. “I’m a very caring person but I don't act like this before... fuck.”
“I feel like I'm trespassing and invading your privacy— argh! I don't care, I'm worried!” He sighed in frustration. He did a lot of loud knocks and calls— it would be impossible for you to not wake up because of that if everything's alright.
He broke the handle of the door and barged in, eager to find you. “Y/N? where are you?” He called your name multiple times and the silence that welcomes him adds to the panic that he's receiving in his chest.
He went to the kitchen and the living room but you were not there. He continued searching for you in every room that your apartment has. One room in the end of the hallway is the last one that he has not went to yet— your bedroom.
He quickly opened the door to your bedroom— and there he saw you curled up into a ball. Your hands gripping the shirt that covers your chest that looks like you want to remove your heart. Your eyes and face are both red and puffy, you look like you cried for months.
His breath hitched as he run towards your weak body. He tried to stay calm to properly assess you but tears rushed down his cheeks.
He's a caring friend but he does not know why he's reacting like he's the other half of your feelings and situation. It's like he can feel your pain and he does not know why.
He teared up as soon as he saw your current state.
“Hey... I'm calling for you earlier... what happened?” He said as he sobs. He’s now caressing your forehead and neck, checking for any sign of fever. You are not replying— you're like dead but you still have a pulse.
He picked you up bridal style and rushed down to the parking lot to get you in his car. The receptionist saw both of you and she felt guilty for thinking that Rafayel is just a creep that was stalking you.
He went to the driver's seat after putting you in the back, making sure that you're comfortable and safe during the drive because he can't promise that he will not sprint to the hospital. He picked up his phone and dialed a number before starting to drive.
“Hey, Zayne! I'm on my way to the hospital right now, I'm bringing a friend of mine. I don't know what happened to her but I know that she's not in a great condition. Please ready a bed for her if you can— I'm panicking and I can't understand why...” Rafayel was still sobbing on the phone and he can't put his mind in ease.
“Don’t panic, it will only worsen the situation... and you're also driving. Focus on the road and drive safely. I already told the interns to prepare a bed for your friend.” Zayne encouraged Rafayel to stay calm. Rafayel— after the call— did his best to focus on the road to drive safely even when his heart feels like it's gripping itself because of intense nervousness and panicking.
You're at the backseat, still hardly breathing but only slightly conscious. Your body feels numb but your chest feels like it's being stabbed from front to the back and vice versa. Your eyes still want to cry but you already emptied out your tears.
“Raf... it hurts...” You mumbled and Rafayel heard it. It was making him hard to breathe. He does not know what hurts you but he wants to take the pain away.
“We’re near to the hospital... you'll be ok... hmm..” He tried to reassure you with a smile that you will be fine but even himself— he can barely stay calm.
Your heart hurts so bad that it pulls you into a deep sleep again.
Finally, both of you arrived to the hospital and Rafayel parked his car. He picked you up in a bridal style again and rushed towards the entrance. Three interns were already waiting for the both of you with a gurney. They quickly put you in the gurney and went to one of the hospital rooms.
Zayne was already at the room, he just finished taking care of one of the patients that he have. He immediately checked your condition while Rafayel just sits at a chair in the corner of the room. Zayne puts an oxygen mask to your nose and mouth area before turning back towards Rafayel.
“It looks like she heavily cried... Due to her heavy breakdown session, there was a lack of supply of oxygen in her body. The amount of oxygen that is in her bloodstream also reduced. This is not yet life-threatening but the emotional stress that she currently experience can trigger other conditions like broken heart syndrome.” Zayne spoke as Rafayel’s mind went blank. He's still processing everything that Zayne said. He don't know what to reply to Zayne.
“It’s better if you will bring her to a psychologist or a psychiatrist after her body and breathing goes back to normal.” Zayne said. Rafayel nodded as a response because his mouth do not know what to say.
“I’ll go to my next patient now. Just call me if you need help. I'll check up on her later.” Zayne said goodbye as he exited the room, leaving Rafayel and your unconscious body.
“What happened to you? you were just smiling last night...” He murmured as he approached a chair besides your hospital bed.
Rafayel spent hours in the hospital, waiting for you to wake up and tell him what happened to you. He did not eat for hours since morning, he lost his appetite when he saw you in that painful state. But his stomach is begging him to eat, it's making him weak.
He decided to go a nearby restaurant to take out some food for him— and also for you when you finally wake up.
He ordered his favorite dish but he does not know your favorite food so he just ordered a healthy meal that he thinks will help you to recover.
He went back to the hospital, his body can barely handle the heavy steps that he takes. He did not eat in the restaurant, he wants to eat with you— just like what you guys did last night.
“Why do I feel miserable already? I just met her last night...” Confusion is messing with his mind.
He reached your hospital room. His eyes slowly lighten up when he saw you in the bed— barely moving but clearly awake. He quickly went to the drawer at the side of your bed and placed the food that he bought.
“Hey, how do you feel? Are you alright? Wait, let me call Zayne...” He flooded you with questions before he dialed Zayne’s number on his phone.
- Meanwhile, on Onychinus base -
Sylus spent his yesterday with MC, clearly not aware that you also left N109 zone yesterday. He went to your desk to hand over the paper works— of course, he wants you to be tired.
To his surprise, you're not on your desk. Your working area is completely clear of signs of work and papers. He felt irritation build up inside his chest. He immediately called for the twins for your whereabouts because they are the ones that you are close with. Maybe you told them where you will go.
The twins barged inside Sylus' office after he called for them. Sylus is on his desk, looking furiously at his laptop. For their relief, MC is not around. They stood in front of Sylus’ desk, waiting for an order.
“Do you both know where she is?” Sylus looked at them with a hint of frustration in his eyes. The twin gulped from anxiousness. How are they now supposed to tell him about your resignation when he's clearly mad? they also thought that he is aware about this— just like when you said that it was his request.
“Boss we don't know what you're talking about...” Kieran lied. Of course they are aware that Sylus is talking about you. But the problem is, how will they tell him without facing Sylus’ anger?
“Answer me with the truth, don't lie... Where did she go?” The twin gulped again. Luke cannot hold back anymore, he told Sylus about your last encounter with them.
“We saw her the day before yesterday... She brought all her things with her and said that she'll resign because of your.... request.” It felt like a dagger is dragged in Luke’s throat as he spoke.
“That explains the resignation letter that she sent in my email.” He said while caressing his temple.
“Go and find her, she still have a lot of work to do”.
- Back to the hospital -
Zayne already checked up on you earlier. As of now, your condition is improving but you are still not fully recovered— especially, your heart.
You are now eating with Rafayel. His eyes looks a little puffy. He told you everything that happened and it touches your heart that he did all of that for you even when you guys just met last night.
“Do you mind telling me what happened? I know that something's wrong... it's not normal for someone to have a breakdown that affects their health like that...” He spoke as you guys both finished your meal. He stood to take the empty container of your meal and throw it away in the trash bin before walking to you again.
“I want to... but I don't know if I can tell you everything, it still hurts.” You hugged yourself.
“I know that it's hard and I'm not forcing you to tell everything right now because of your situation... Just tell me when you need help or you need someone to talk to, ok? You're also my friend now, and I care about my friends.” He pats your head with a warm smile on his lips.
You sighed. “I guess I'll just rant to you right now... I want to let out everything to lessen the burden that I feel.”
Rafayel did not speak, he only listen and that's what you need right now.
“I have this friend for 10 years... I worked as his secretary but I resigned just a night before I went to Linkon City. I slowly loved him because he's the only one that defends me from people that hurts me. I thought we will be more than friends because he gave me signals that he also feels the same— I guess that was a mixed signal.” You painfully chuckled. You continue to speak as Rafayel sat beside you, carefully listening.
“And just months before, he met a girl. Actually, he already met her before me... They're tied by fate in every lifetime... Five months ago, they became official. I tried to make my feelings go away because they were really nice. But that girl was two-faced, even...” You hesitated to say the name of the man that caused you this pain— but you still did.
“Even Sylus’ two assistants don't want to be near her. I really want to tell him that... MC was evil. She changed her behavior once they went official.” You don't want to remember everything that happened but you want to let out the pain.
“Sylus also changed... He promised to never hurt me— but he did. Just for MC, he threw our 10 years friendship. I actually wouldn't mind it that much if he meant it to respect MC, but he also made me suffer. He made me work late to finish the papers that was never meant for my job...”
You know to yourself that you are now hating him— you are slowly hating Sylus.
“Long-story-short, I left the company, I resigned, and flew here. It was also his wish...” You added while a potential sob is building in your throat.
Rafayel’s eyes showed a hint of empathy and anger. He should not be feelings this way but he actually cares for you...
He will do his best to never let you be near that Sylus guy again.
-Timeskip, 7:38 pm-
- Back to Onychinus base -
The twins went back to Sylus' office. MC is still not around. Sylus never left his desk, finishing the works that you are supposed to do— and it frustrates him... but it also make him feel unease.
“Boss...” Kieran softly called, careful to not trigger the irritation that is hidden in Sylus’ mind.
Sylus was always calm, his actions and words are always calculated. He is a very disciplined man— but today is different.
“She’s not in her house... We also searched the whole N109 zone but we can't find a trace of her...” Kieran hesitated to continue as Sylus slowly looked up to them with furious eyes.
Luke and Kieran gulped. They want to sprint outside Sylus’ office. Sylus’ presence and aura never felt scary and suffocating before— even when he is furious. He is very different right now.
Sylus stayed silent, he knows that there is still something that the twins want to tell him. Luke started to speak.
“However, there's a record in the airport... She flew to Linkon city. But we haven't found where she stays for now because we just got the information this evening...” Luke spoke very fast, it's like he is rapping.
Sylus wiped his face with his palm out of frustration. He fucked up but he does not realize it yet...
“Find her and bring her back here... She can't leave this place just like that. She belongs here.”
(Note: I suddenly got a flu and migraine huhu I'll make the part 3 longer, promiseee)
#sylus au#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#love and deepspace sylus#heavy angst#angst#sad ending#no comfort#toxic love#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#lads#love and deepspace#non mc reader
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May I request an isekai au Jinshi x reader (from the apothecary diaries) please, I love the way you write him!
Hellooooo! Thank you so much for your kind words, it makes me so happy to know that you love the way I write him. Because it took me so long to get back to your request, I thought I'd gift you with two Jinshi fics. The other fic is listed here. Thank you again for your support and for trusting me with your request!
In Every Life
Synopsis: As noted in the request, this is isekai style, and my personal favorite flavor of isekai is Villainess anime. So I thought I'd pay homage and have you whisked away into the world of Apothecary Diaries from the world we live in now. Of course, you may have a crush on Jinshi in this world, but in that world? You'd probably rip his hair out. What happens when the two worlds collide and love and hate meet each other in the middle? Approximate Word Count: 3600 Tags: Enemies to lovers, slight angst, mutual pining
Side note after posting: I’m just realizing now that I stayed up until 5 am writing this, and my sleep deprived brain was only thinking the request meant the reader is isekai’d into the show, totally not even realizing it was possible for Jinshi to be isekai’d out or for both of yall to be isekai’d elsewhere so lemme know if you wanted something different when you requested this.
Don’t tell me…
You blinked awake and found yourself in the world of the Apothecary Diaries. Of course, you’d already made a whole life for yourself the last 19 years and become a part of the world itself, but it was only now that you remembered you ever had a life before this one. A life where you were so violently stripped of the chance to grow old when a speeding Vespa sent you flying towards your death and rebirth.
Wait. You blinked again, recalling the memory. A freaking Vespa?? The universe didn’t even have the decency to isekai you with a truck, how embarrassing. Anyway, pride aside, you were currently living in the world of one of your favorite animes with all memories of your previous life intact. And, having just woken up from an exhausting nap (when your memories decided to suddenly kickstart themselves), you found yourself rather hungry.
When you lived in Japan, you used to make yourself the most delicious snacks to fill your belly while you waited for lunch or dinner to arrive, each treat more creative and satisfying than the last. It seemed only fitting that you revisit that habit in this new life of yours. You were sure you must have seen a kitchen around here somewhere in the few years you’d lived in the palace, so you decided to wander around until you found it. You couldn’t remember what your plans were for the afternoon, but you were sure nothing was more important than stuffing your belly.
You had one arm deep into the pantry when you heard a familiar voice resounding behind you. It was a voice you know well. A voice you'd come to detest. A voice that got your blood boiling, your ears steaming, your breath huffing. And suddenly -surprisingly- it was now the most beautiful voice you’d ever heard.
You turned to face Jinshi, a man you’d consistently bickered with to the point of it being daily routine, a man who was the very definition of the bane of your existence, only to discover that this was the same man you once had a gigantic crush on in your previous life, when he was nothing more than a pretty face on a TV screen. And suddenly, you found that you weren’t sure how the fuck to feel about him now.
“Hey, Jinshi.” You greeted him meekly, a smile sitting pretty on your lips.
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What are you doing with your face? Why are you smiling at me; it’s creepy, cut it out.”
Your smile dropped in an instant. That’s right. You forgot. You were mortal enemies. And he was a jackass. “I was trying to be nice- something you clearly know nothing about. Do you think you’d drop dead if you had manners or something?” You spit back defensively.
He snorted. “You? Nice? Puh-lease. And for your information, I do have manners, I just have none for you.”
“No manners, no balls,” You took a moment to lean in and sniff the air around him before wrinkling your nose in disgust, “No hygiene either. Is there anything you do have? Besides an ego the size of this palace.”
If he could’ve rained down hellfire on you right now, he would’ve. But where pride failed him, paranoia prevailed, and he faked a scoff (not that it was much of a fake anyway; he really was scornful) only to turn away from you in exaggerated annoyance so that he could take a moment to briefly sniff his own clothes without giving you the satisfaction of knowing how much your words had gotten to him. When he smelled nothing but rose water, he turned to shoot you a pointed glare. “Seriously? You’re so desperate to slander me that you’re pulling insults out of thin air? What- run out of creativity this morning?”
You’d known when you’d uttered the words that it was a desperate attempt to find something wrong with him, to find anything wrong with him, to repay him for how he’d treated you, but you couldn’t back out now. Not when you’d already made your bed. “Ohh, I see. You want me to be creative.” You tapped your chin in mock thought. “I’d say you’re dumb as rocks but that would be an insult to the rocks. It makes sense that everything to come out of your mouth is pure crap because your head is so far up your butt. I think-”
“Alright, that’s enough!” Without warning, he clapped a hand over your mouth and backed you into a nearby wall, eyes ablaze with an unyielding inferno.
And suddenly your insolence dissipated.
It’s been said that the line between love and hate is dangerously thin -both emotions rivaling each other with equal passion and intensity- but you had yet to realize just how thin that line was until he had you pressed up against a wall, his eyes burning into yours, his breath hot on your skin. You would’ve liked to keep your newly found discovery to yourself, continuing to loathe him until the end of time, but your traitorous mind had chosen this very moment to remind you of the frog scene in Apothecary Diaries (with your situation suddenly feeling quite similar), and your body could not help but produce evidence of your stirring feelings, seeping pink into your cheeks.
You hoped he hadn’t noticed it, but today, the gods were against you. You watched as his eyes, which had previously been attempting to sear a hole through your sockets with rage alone, began to trail down to your rosy cheeks, his fury flickering out as he processed this sudden change in your mood. His eyes then widened in shock -and, was that…embarrassment?- and he quickly removed his hand, pulling away from you in an instant.
Once again, before you could control yourself, disappointment spilled across your face. If both of you had been playing a game of Go, the match would’ve been over in an instant, as his features had begun to display the same honesty as yours. Hesitation stuttered his movements, his curiosity getting the better of him.
You were disappointed he’d retreated? Why? Were you not the same woman who detested him? The same woman who made it the object of her everyday life to express how much she detested him? Had you ever even detested him? Or had you been hiding this secret side of you all along? Had you ever looked so enticing before? Had his heart ever thundered as much as it did at this very moment? Did he like this feeling? Did he like…
He closed the distance between you once more, taking the steps needed to bring the familiar shade of rouge rushing back to your cheeks. “You…you infuriate me, do you know that?” His words held no bite, like it was less of an insult and more of a careful confession.
“And you…you infuriate me.” You hadn’t intended to whisper but your words remained weak all the same.
Before he could give a proper response, you began to hear footsteps approaching. He pulled away again, like it was reflex, leaving you to stew in your own desolation.
“Jinshi!” Feminine voices rang out like a bell, perfectly polished hands waving their greetings to him.
And suddenly, he wasn’t the Jinshi you knew anymore. He wasn’t the Jinshi with a tendency for immature spats and temperamental behavior. He wasn’t the Jinshi that was eager to see you, only to trade rancorous remarks, like it was his only hobby. He wasn’t the Jinshi that got your blood boiling and your heart racing. He was Jinshi, the eunuch. Jinshi, the guardian of the palace. Jinshi, the kind. Jinshi, the clever. Jinshi, as charming as a prince and doubly as handsome as one. Jinshi, the object of every woman’s desires.
“Ladies! It’s a pleasure to see you as always. What brings such lovely company in my direction?” He joined the crowd, his usual, stunning smile plastered perfectly across his face.
And there he goes, being fake again, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh as you watched him walk off.
You thought that, maybe, for even a millisecond, you might have been having a moment with Jinshi. You were already among the few people to witness his more genuine side (even though you’d uncovered it by less than favorable means, having always found yourself in opposition to him), and now you thought to yourself that today you might have even broken past the opposition that had previously barred the two of you from becoming amiable towards one another. But maybe it was all in your mind. Maybe this fake Jinshi was who he wanted to be. Maybe he wanted nothing to do with the Jinshi you made him into. The Jinshi that wasted his every breath just to quarrel with you. Maybe a tender moment stolen by pure luck was as close to him as you’d ever get.
As much as that thought pained you to admit, it was only reasonable. You’d only ever pined after Jinshi in your previous life. In this one, you were at each other’s throats on the regular. Of course he wouldn’t be able to overlook that. You weren’t even sure if you would’ve overlooked it if you hadn’t regained memories of your past and recalled your previous fondness for him. It was the acknowledgement of this reality that forced you to continue about your day as though nothing of note had happened.
It was several days before you saw him again.
You had thought yourself lucky. Any fleeting feelings you might have had for him belonged to a past you, and the current you had no hope of having him let alone keeping him. It was fortunate that you’d been spared from seeing him again so soon after your last encounter; this way, your past desires could safely stay in the past. Or, at least, they would have been able to, if he’d been able to stay away long enough.
You hadn’t expected that the next time you’d see him again would be in the stables, of all places. You almost never had cause to go to the stables yourself, but you’d been doing your best to avoid Jinshi (not that you needed to go out of your way for that, as he’d been nowhere in sight as of late), and figured it couldn’t hurt to take the long way back to your place of residence. He was almost never seen at the stables either, having always had his horses brought to him, so you figured it was highly unlikely you’d run into him. When you spotted a horse with a violet tail, you couldn’t help but peer closer at it, only to discover that Jinshi had been seeking refuge behind it.
Now, you should’ve turned and walked away before you’d been spotted. That would have been the healthier move for your heart. But for old times sake, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about a situation like this.
“Trying to make a run for it?”
Out of reflex, he tensed up, but upon recognizing your voice, his shoulders slumped back to their original form. “Not a bad idea, actually.”
You blinked. You’d expected some snarky reply. Something along the lines of, “Only from you.” You hadn’t expected a genuine answer. “Alright, what’s wrong with you today?”
His face soured in an instant. “What’s wrong with me?? What’s wrong with you? What kind of question is that?”
You were on the defensive immediately. “Hey- you don’t have to get all worked up just because I found you in a suspicious position. Is it wrong for me to question why you’re hiding in the strangest of places?”
His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, you didn’t have to question me so rudely. Why does everything you say always come out so horribly? It makes it awfully unbearable to be around you at all.” As the words were leaving his lips, he instantly regretted them, but it was too late. They’d already done their damage and shot straight through your heart.
Any fight you had left in you vanished. Shrunk itself back into the deepest recesses of your soul. “Pardon my behavior, sir. Allow me to excuse myself.” Your apology rang hollow, not for a lack of sincerity, but for a lack of life, having been so mercilessly drained out of you by his cruel words. He was right, of course. You knew he was right. But you thought you’d had some sort of understanding with him. You were brazen about your feelings and so was he. It was the only connection you had to each other.
Now you were starting to regret having any connection to him at all.
You walked off, defeated and deserving of said defeat, and he watched with guilt as you left. You’d never apologized to him before and certainly not with such formality. It left him with a bad taste in his mouth, knowing he was the reason your casual conversation with him had turned rigid. Of course, if he could’ve chosen to, he would have rather had an amicable relationship with you instead of continuing to clash with you time and time again, but he’d grown rather fond of the way you spoke your mind to him, telling him when he was being ridiculous, telling him when he was being arrogant, telling him when he was being pompous. And he’d gotten comfortable with returning the favor, telling you when you were being selfish, when you were being irresponsible, when you were being irrational. He’d even unknowingly (and eventually, consciously) begun to seek you out on the regular, purely because you were the one person who spoke to him like a person rather than a higher power. Because you were the one person he could be himself around. Even Gaoshun and Suiren, who had been by his side the longest, commanded a certain level of propriety from him, as their expectations of him were great. But you? You expected nothing from him but honesty.
And he hadn’t been honest to you (or himself) when he’d withheld his true feelings, using his calloused words to mask what he knew in his heart: that he loved you. That he’d been this close to kissing you when you finally showed some semblance of interest in him, interest that he accepted from others as a poor substitute for your affection, interest that might have flourished had he properly nurtured it instead of trampling all over it the way he had just done. And now, he wasn’t sure you’d ever be interested in him again.
How similar the two of you were, as you walked away from him, so sure that he’d never be interested in you again. That he’d never desire to breathe the same air again, let alone speak to you. And that crushed you so entirely that you felt you might wither to pieces at this very moment. Maybe the wandering winds would simply blow you away, erase your very existence. You hoped they would.
You hadn’t realized how badly you’d wanted to be accepted by him until he’d outright rejected you. You hadn’t realized that these feelings you’d attributed to your past self, belonged to your current self as well, even more so. That watching him on a TV screen couldn’t compare to conversing with him in person. It couldn’t compare to the way his brows would wrinkle after you’d said something particularly blunt, and it couldn’t compare to the way he’d smirk at you when he’d return your candidness with his own. It couldn’t compare to the way he’d search for you and then pretend he didn’t, keeping pace with you as he feigned an accidental encounter. And it couldn’t compare to the rare moments when you’d find yourself in a truce, and for a moment, you could even be considered friends. But beneath your rigid exterior, you held close to your heart the secret of your desire to be more than just friends or rivals. You’d held onto it so tightly, that even you couldn’t recognize at first, the emotions and feelings and yearning that had blossomed from this secret. And now this secret would never see the light of day.
You were so lost in thought, in despair, that you hadn’t even noticed when your paths crossed with a large group of court ladies. You wouldn’t have noticed them even if you collided with every single one on your way out, had you not overheard part of their conversation.
“Where could Master Jinshi be?”
“I thought for sure we had him properly occupied.”
“We’ll just have to try harder once we get our hands on him again.”
Ah. It all made sense now. Why you hadn’t seen him in days. Why he’d been hiding in the stables. Why he’d been too exhausted to even properly return your witticism.
You cleared your throat, drawing the attention of the women. “Forgive me, but I must ask a favor of you lovely ladies. By chance, I happened to run into Master Jinshi as I was making my way out of the bathhouse and as his appearance was quite convenient for me, I requested his services, but it appears I am no longer in need of his aid, having found the solution myself. If you see him, will you please relay that message for me?”
Their eyes lit up and they quickly muttered their polite replies before speeding off towards the bathhouse. In the opposite direction of the stables.
“You…you didn’t have to do that, you know. Just for me.”
Your blood froze in its veins when you heard his familiar voice. “It wasn’t-” You took a deep breath. “Forgive me for involving myself, I was acting on the assumption you didn’t want to be found. I apologize if I’ve only inconvenienced you further. I will take my leave now.” You gave him a rigid bow, eyes never daring to meet his.
Once again, your formality shattered his heart. How long were you going to keep speaking to him like this? Forever? Or would you eventually cease to speak to him at all?
“Wait. I…I just wanted to thank you. For what you did.” His words were clumsy, heavy with the weight of all he wanted to say but couldn’t.
You gave him a solemn nod before turning away to leave.
“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, desperate for any combination of words, no matter how big or small, that would get you to stay for even just a second more.
“You have nothing to apologize for, please don’t concern yourself with apologies.”
There it was again. That same tone that splintered his every aching cell into bits and pieces. “But I…you don’t… you don’t understand. I must apologize. I need to apologize. I regret ever causing you so much distress more than I’ve ever regretted anything, please understand me. I’m not just apologizing to clear the air. If you still hate me, then you still hate me. But I am truly sorry.” He made his case to your retreating back, but he hoped you’d hear him and accept him all the same.
Your steps halted. “I don’t…I don’t hate you.”
His breathing eased ever so slightly. “You don’t?” He took a step closer to you but that was all he dared do.
“I never…I never have. And I never will. And…I’m the one who should be sorry. You’re right; I am… difficult to talk to. But you’re not. You’re easy to talk to. I let myself get comfortable and I shouldn’t have.”
“No!” He blurted out and then winced at his own lack of decorum in the face of his desperation to make you understand him. “I appreciate your conversation. I look forward to it, actually. I…I’m comfortable with you too. And I’d hate it if we stopped talking.”
A flicker of hope fluttered in your chest. “I’d hate it too.”
He took another daring step towards you. “I’d hate not seeing you everyday, like I have these past few days. I’d hate not hearing your voice.”
The flicker of hope grew into one, single, steady flame within you. “I…I know how you feel.”
He made his way even closer to you. “I’d hate not being by your side…I’d hate…not telling you how I actually feel.”
The flame began to burn bright within your veins, spreading its heat to every inch of your body. “And how do you…feel?”
He had you backed up against a wall again, but it wasn’t like before. It wasn’t out of impulse, it was out of a necessity to keep you close to him. “I feel…” He cupped your face, caressing your cheeks tenderly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Like I’ve never felt before.” He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands trailing to the back of your head to hold you steady against him. Or maybe it was to hold him steady against you, to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. Or maybe it was just to hold you. To be near you. “Like I…love you. Like I’ve always loved you.”
And suddenly he wasn’t some character on a TV screen, or some rival to rebuke; he was just simply yours. And you were his, in your past life, in this life, and in every life to come.
Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @h3art-love @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi
#han's library#apothecary diaries jinshi#jinshi apothecary diaries#jinshi#jinshi x reader#apothecary diaries#the apothecary diaries#apothecary diaries x reader
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