#the passage of time is so bittersweet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purplealmonds · 10 months

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This is my tribute to the late Technoblade. I'm well over a week late to the anniversary of his passing, but I think it was worth the wait. I wanted to get this right.

The story I want to tell is of time's passage after his passing, and the set dressing of this space is a symbolic amalgamation of various aspects of his life depicting that concept.

I have a lot more to say about this painting - three pages just for the symbolism alone. If you're interested, please let me know and I'll share my analysis on a separate post! Edit: I caved. Aight, prepare for a massive info dump below the cut!

DISCLAIMERS:

Although I put a lot of research into this piece, my knowledge is likely flawed and incomplete. If I missed or misinterpreted a reference, it’s because I’m new to the Technoblade community. If I got a symbolism thing wrong, it’s because I relied on Google search for answers. I fact checked where I could. And with this analysis, I hope I can clear up any misinterpretations!

—

OVERVIEW:

There’s lots of imagery to unpack so I’ll try parsing it in a structured manner. Let’s first examine it holistically.

The story I want to tell here is of time’s passage after Technoblade’s passing. As such,the set dressing of this space is a symbolic amalgamation of that concept.

Prominently featured are the various medical equipments - a nod to the grim reality of his cancer. But let’s not linger upon that aspect of his story.

Of equal importance are the more mundane objects - his gaming setup, the couch and pillow which Floof sat upon in that one photo, the plethora of paraphernalia of branded merchandise, and references to his exploits in Minecraft. These are relics and mementos of his legacy.

All of these elements intermingle in flooded, lushly overgrown room looking out to a rose-tinted exterior. Is it dawn? Dusk? I’ll leave that interpretation up to the viewers.

The third and final component is the plant life representing his community -us. We beautify this metaphorical space with where it was once laden with tragedy. Yet, despite these riotous blooms, we never quite encroach on the bed - the empty space left behind by him.

—

SET DRESSING:

Much care was taken in selecting the blossoms and placing them in symbolically significant locations. And this neatly transitions us into the analysis individual details.

Foreground:

In the foreground, ivy crawls through a lamp and white clovers thrive atop a pile of pillboxes. The lamp base, once a shining bronze-like finish, is heavily tarnished. The lampshade is overgrown with moss and ivy. Even if the greenery has yet to damage the electric wiring, the damp surely has finished the job. Even if the bulb is replaced, the body is too far gone. The light’s never coming on again.

I was initially put out that my painstakingly 3D modeled pillboxes became entirely obscured, but I think it works in favor of the piece’s overarching theme: the beautiful wilds overtaking a space that once reeked of the desperate fight to prolong life.

White clover blossoms meaning “thinking of you” is paired with the ivy meaning “everlasting devotion”. It’s an apt combination. It has been over a year since his passing, and we still remember and carry on his legacy.

Nestled amongst the foliage is Techno’s compass. It was once used to hunt him down in the Dream SMP. But now, it’s an odd comfort. Even though he’s no longer with us, he’s still somewhere far, far away– or is he? The original idea was for the needle to point heavenwards, but it is currently pointing…sideways? I’ll get to the reasoning a bit later.

The Flood:

Moving deeper into the space, we hit the floodwaters. These once turbulent currents are now tranquil enough to nourish this verdant place. The thriving plant life hides much of this darkness. It is beautiful, hopeful, even. But always bittersweet, because everything that grows here is laced with an old sorrow.

White lotus rise from the murky depths. That is us, overcoming our grief. Breaching the surface, we gain a new vantage point to contemplate this loss. Perhaps we can also find a more comforting perspective of it.

Submerged amongst the blossoms is a rusted oxygen machine. I wanted to decorate the machine with stickers, much like one would personalize a plaster cast for a broken limb. It is deliberate that the “Technoblade Never Dies” sticker is in shadow, while the “So Long, Nerds" is in light.

Immediately to the right was meant to be a box of assorted Technoblade apparel. But then I flooded the space for narrative reasons, rendering that idea unusable. I eventually converted it into a Welch’s Fruit Snacks box, because apparently Technoblade liked them? It’s one of the shallower references here but it is what it is.

And finally, there is a little cameo floating somewhere in the waters. An Easter egg, if you will. I wonder if you can find it?

Furnishings from Home:

I found the couch and Technoblade’s gaming setup during my trawl through the Technoblade Reddit page for reference photos. Balancing this space full of impersonal medical equipment with more personalized belongings is grounding. These areas insert familiarity in this strange environment.

Gaming Setup:

The gaming setup is bare bones - just the monitor, keyboard, and mouse. There was no space to add more iconic elements like his Blue Yeti microphone or the steering wheel from that Minecraft challenge. Hanging above but heavily obscured by overgrowth are two framed pictures of Technoblade’s cabin and a potato minion. It is a blink-and-you-miss-it detail, placed in a dim space and requiring close examining to notice. Without the context of the rest of this environment, it is easily mistaken as generic set dressing.

That’s the point, though. This was a space where he streamed and created videos much beloved by his community. This space was the means of creation, not the creations themselves. Without the creator at the helm, this setup becomes insignificant. Does one dote over the easel on which paintings were created, or the paintings themselves? So now it sits in darkness, a footnote of Technoblade’s legacy.

Nostalgia Corner:

On the other end, we have the sold out Youtooz plushies and the Agro Pig plush from the recent merch drop sat atop the couch. If you look closely, you’ll see a Skeppy coin leaning against one of the plushies. Behind the couch is a shelf. A generic shelf, but the important bits here are the sellout bell, Youtube plaque, and vinyl figurines.

This corner of the room is nostalgic and soft. Everything is bathed in rosy pink light, and it is filled with things that are comfortingly familiar. All across the world, people in his community have these pieces of merch to remember him by.

The red poppies that also grow here have multiple meanings. It represents the battle - one against sarcoma - which was fought here. It symbolizes death, but also resilience in the face of grueling conditions. It is said that they grow in former battlefields where of fallen warriors. I believe of all the flowers here, this one best represents Technoblade.

The Hanging Mobile:

Strung up above it is a rather last minute addition to the environment - a hanging mobile fabricated from totems representing each member of the Sleepy Bois Inc. friend group. First and foremost is Technoblade’s iconic MCC crown, aptly placed at the top. Although it is untouched by the greenery, the gold and jewelry are somewhat muted and tarnished by time.

This is not the case for the objects below. TommyInnit’s music disc shines iridiscent green and purple - Cat and Mellohi merged into one. To is right is a sky-blue guitar pick with the LoveJoy logo engraved onto it for Wilbur Soot. And finally, below it all is Philza’s Friendship Emerald - sparkling and refracting light - with Elytra feathers fastened at the bottom. They, suspended and isolated from everything, maintain a pristine vibrancy which strongly contrasts against everything else in this space.

IV Stand:

Next to the computer setup is the IV stand. It sustains life which is incapable of continuing on without intervention. The butterfly milkweed growing on it, in contrast, says “let me go.” The latter, overtaking the tangle of tubes and powered off patient monitor, is victorious. The hooks stand rusted, and the IV bag empty from disuse.

Sat atop the patient monitor but almost blending into the walls is a pig figurine featured in Dream’s latest music video. It stands on a high perch, yet is unassuming as to direct focus on Technoblade, or rather, his absence.

Hanging from the wired basket is an air freshener tag. If you look on the official website, this is one of the only products which has what I can only call interesting flavor text. Most are merely descriptions and specs of the product. To quote it verbatim:

“Yes, this is a real product. And no, this ‘air freshener’ has no discernible fragrance. ‘Why’ you ask? Because Mr. Technodad and our team agreed this was exactly the sort of air freshener Alex would have found hilarious.”

As morbid as it sounds, I feel like this air freshener tag would not have existed before Technoblade’s passing. It is so unlike any other merchandise I’ve seen in any other branded merchandise store. It’s like an inside joke, secretly shared within the descriptions for the world to eventually discover.

Window:

Unlit candles line the window sill - the aftermath of a candlelight vigil. It is a versatile symbol. It raises awareness of a disease or illness. It pays tribute the dead. Judging from the melted wax dribbling down the candle shafts and the wall below (the opacity was reduced so it looks less like bloodstains), this has been done many times over. But there is so much more candle to burn, representing the people still continuing this ceremony, albeit in the privacy of their own homes.

Above the candles are some broken blinds. When grieving, it would have been so easy for Mr. Technodad to hide away from the world in his grief. It’s understandable, to give into that primal urge to flee from prying eyes when he’s at his most vulnerable. He had the difficult task of reading out his son’s final farewell to us. This barrier between him and us dismantled by this gesture so we can remember Technoblade together.

Coincidentally, the window frame itself somewhat resembles the kitchen window featured in Technoblade and Technodad's cooking videos. Completely unintentional on my end, but fitting in a way since in both those videos they're pulling back the metaphorical curtains for the audience to peer into a small aspect of their private lives.

To the right of the window is a nondescript clock, forever stopped at the 6:30 as a nod to the date when the "So Long, Nerds" video was published. The minute hand is accidentally left out removed to signify that time will no longer move forward for Technoblade. In contrast, the rest of the world - represented by this space - continues to grow and change around his absence.

A wind chime hangs just outside the window. It is said that the soothing sounds produced by them is a healing balm during tumultuous times. Where there is wind there is stirred up emotions, but it is motionless on this calm, breezeless day. A rare respite, where remembrance overrides grief.

On a more amusing note, there is an interesting looking moth perched on the window glass. Upon closer inspection, the wing pattern may look somewhat familiar. In Chinese culture, when a huge moth visiting your home is the embodiment of your recently deceased loved one checking on you. Remember the compass in the foreground? Well, here’s why it is pointed sideways instead of upwards. This idea came up rather organically during a VC session in the R/Technoblade Discord server. My handful of viewers and myself affectionately dubbed this doofy looking moth TechnoMoff!

Venturing further beyond the windows, ferns grow with wild abandon. They represent eternal youth, and from a certain point of view, he will remain youthful forever at the age of 23. He lives on through us carrying on his legacy and spreading his story.

Everything outside is tinged with pink. After someone dies, we start seeing them less as a person and more as a legacy. It is the natural course of things to start seeing the deceased through rose-tinted lenses - hence the artificially pink hue of the outside contrasting with the more grounded color palette of the inside.

Bed:

And now we circle back to the centerpiece of this entire composition: the bed and the things that surround it.

In front of the bed is an over-bed table with a single object: an incense bowl filled to the brim with burnt sticks of incense. A simple shrine for Technoblade. In Chinese culture, we light incense at the altar to honor our loved ones. We may live separate lives and not cross paths often, but we all come together to leave our marks through this ritual. It is proof that he is still very much loved and missed by us all.

The bariatric bed frame is typically seen in hospitals. It allows the patient to comfortably sit up or recline without expending valuable energy. Encased in this frame is something more personal - the mattress and cushions which Technoblade laid upon in his photo with the Youtube plaque. Their unique patterning is a foil for the impersonal receptacle it is caged in. It is spotlit by the window light, emphasizing its emptiness. Not a single blossom dares to encroach upon this space, because to do so would be to erase the space where Technoblade last resided. Like I mentioned before, this is story is about the space around him as much as it is about him.

Cradling this bed frame are several flowers. Rosemary and forget-me-not’s for remembrance. Appropriate, given its proximity to the bed. Morning glories, for resilience. That’s us, again. For a while, we meander and spread in the upper walls of this space, avoiding the floodwaters which symbolize grief. But eventually, we gather the strength to meander down to the bed, where grief was the strongest.

—

CONCLUSION:

There is that cheesy quote from that one Marvel TV show – “What is grief, but love persevering?” While this reframes our perception of dealing with loss, grief is not some thing that should linger. The absence of grief does not equate to the lack of love. Instead, I would like you to consider this: remembrance is love persevering. And with our combined perseverance, Technoblade will never truly die.

#technoblade #Technoblade never dies #Technoblade fanart #techno fanart #sleepy bois inc #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur soot #qsmp chayanne #skeppy #dream #mcyt #mcyt fanart #fan art #purplealmonds #2023

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fridayth13 · 3 months

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Could I request Zhongli reuniting with his wife after the two had a falling out 500 years ago?

crushed cor lapis.

↳ zhongli × gn!immortal!artist!reader

↳ part one, part two

↳ genre: soft angst at the beginning, but it's mostly bittersweet | wordcount: 1.6k | warnings: none

↳ notes: i ended up with less angst than i thought i would have. but i did want to explore the thought of time passage and fighting for people who are going to live forever, even if it's subtle; reader is immortal and implied to be an adeptus or a god, but the kind isn't very important; ive had an idea for zhongli and an artist reader for a long time so i tried to combine it i hope you don't mind; as with the gender. i did write with a fem!reader in mind as per the request but in the end, the gender didn't need to be specified for anything so i left it gender neutral; i tried to give reader a more divine disposition about them so the writing ended up really flowery, but in any case i hope you enjoy! i really did have fun writing this one

You were a painter.

In your old life, as you liked to call it, however, you were a god. Your domain of influence laid in artistry and beauty.

Or rather, that was what Morax used to tell you. Archons like him were the only beings in Teyvat with real domains of influence. But you wouldn't really stop him if that was his way of calling you pretty.

That was about five hundred years ago. Nowadays was a very different story.

You crushed the yellow berries in your mortar and pestle to turn into paint for tomorrow's commission.

You liked your job in Liyue Harbor. As quaint and.. human as it was, you thought there was divinity to be found in the painstaking recreation of the things around you. Though a painting couldn't rival a Kamera in terms of accuracy, you were certain it completely surpassed the device in most other things.

You slowed your movements, surveying the consistency of the paint and the color. That would probably do. You'd collected quite a lot, so you supposed it was time to head back. All you were really lacking earlier was yellow.

And so you trekked on home from the terraces, skipping over stumps of cor lapis and sunset-painted grass along your way.

As you finally reached your home in the harbor, the sun had fully gone down. The lanterns lit, casting the entire city in a soft, warm glow. The neighboring waters reflected the deep blue of the sky and the speckles of rust and gold adorning every building in sight.

You opened your door and you thought of Morax, wondering if he knew five hundred years ago what beauty would settle upon his previously war torn nation. Leaning on the doorframe, you watched over it for a while. Children playing, kites flying, dinner being prepared, laughter and joy running amok.

You don't like to think about him too much, or how his silence is present in every part of the city that was all him, despite having nothing to do with him any longer. No matter how much time had passed, you seemed stuck in the first night he decided not to apologize.

Still, five hundred years was a long time. Although it felt like the blink of an eye, even immortals had to move on eventually.

You gathered your materials inside and closed the door behind you.

—

The mountains may erode, but they will always be mountains.

You recalled his own words as you saw him again for the first time in five hundred years.

A human-sized Rex Lapis stood before you, hands behind his back, dressed to the nines, pristine, and put together, and perfect, and not at all like he ought to have seemed like at your first meeting in several centuries. Though at the very same time, you couldn't imagine him looking any other way.

You bitterly savored the way he avoided your eyes in front of his boss.

"So this is him!" She said. The lively Director Hu Tao of the local funeral parlor was Rex Lapis's boss. You tried not to laugh. "Our new consultant, Mr. Zhongli."

You set your canvas down onto its easel, then the bulk of your dyes and paints on the floor. You did this without averting your eyes, as if trying to burn him if he ever had the nerve to look back at you.

He did not. And to her credit, it seemed Hu Tao noticed it as well. So as not to make your client too uncomfortable, you decided to take a step towards them.

"Mr. Zhongli." You said. With the proximity you put between you, he had no choice but to look back at you. Not a lot changed about him in human form, but by far, his eyes were the most the same. Down to the hard, intense stare, and the set of his brows. You wondered how many other people in Liyue he'd enchanted with them while he was busy avoiding you.

"Mr. Zhongli?" You repeated, a little less amused. Though you somewhat enjoyed how stupefied he looked at your appearance, you'd endured his silence long enough. "My name is Y/N. It's an honor to meet you here."

This seemed to regain him his senses. That, or Hu Tao's suspicious back and forth glances between the two of you.

Zhongli cleared his throat.

"..The honor is mine."

Hu Tao nodded, seeming satisfied for now. She clapped her hands together in excitement, turning to you.

"Alright! I suppose I'll leave you to it then. I have complete faith that you'll be able to depict the poise and elegance of my esteemed consultant."

You gave her your best half smile.

"Well, I'll try."

"No need to be modest! I've seen your work before. You're one of, if not the best, painter in Liyue. Just ask Mr. Zhongli! He's been very taken with your paintings even before we first met. He speaks very highly of you."

You crossed your arms. "You don't say?"

Five hundred years or the blink of an eye, you could still see his embarrassment without him having to say a word.

—

Director Hu Tao had business to take care of for the funeral parlor, and so left with a flourish, and a "Make sure to get his good side!" as she ran off.

You both continued to speak as civilians for a little while. He sat down at a table on the porch, a steaming pot of tea on said table between you. Your face was obscured to him through the thick white canvas.

Avoiding conversation was easy, but not. Comfortable, but not. Natural, but not. It shouldn't have been. As such was the nature of a marriage to the Geo Archon, you supposed. Or rather, the current lack thereof. But even that was up in airs.

"How.. How have you been?"

Your responding glare was unseen to him, but he heard it in the vitreous tone of your reply.

"Fine." You said. "Something must've happened to you though. Your eloquence seems to have disappeared into thin air."

"..You are still upset. I see."

"In what world would I be upset, Mr. Zhongli?" Your use of his mortal name created a crease in his brow. You gently brushed over it on his painting.

"I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"You still could've asked." You muttered, momentarily leaning sideways to look him in the eye. "For someone so revered for his wisdom, your brain still seems to be as hard as rocks."

You caught his surprised expression as you turned back to the canvas. You didn't allow him another word.

"Honestly, who ghosts their own spouse after an argument like that? You'd think the best time would be after.. five hours. Five days. Maybe five weeks after. Not five centuries—"

You caught him mumble, "Well, it's not as if you tried to talk to me either."

"I didn't think I needed to. You made it very clear you wanted me to leave you to die in the Archon War all on your heroic lonesome."

When he didn't respond, you snuck a glance.

The sun's rays were at the precipice of turning gold in its descent into the sea. The glow smeared his porcelain cheeks in amber, his eyes in glitter, the metallic components of his suit in light. He looked like a monument. Tall, statuesque, and lonely. Almost like his mountainous true form. More beautiful than even his numerous statues across Liyue could capture. More than you could capture. Though you did certainly try.

Annoyed and angrily pining as you were, you still tried to get his eyes right. The little flecks of rust against gold. Like cuts of cor lapis crushed to shimmering powder in the Archon's hand. A man of his own making.

You looked at Zhongli as the golden hour faded, slowly turning dusky pink. His eyes swam in wistfulness as he stared out at the harbor. You couldn't help the dull twinge of sorrow deep in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm sorry."

You didn't know how to follow up. You weren't entirely sure what you were apologizing for. But it felt nice to hear it back from him.

When he finally looked back at you, you were tracing the rich scarlet of his eyeliner onto the canvas.

At some point, he turned on the lamp and set it down beside you while you worked on the finishing touches.

"You're better than I remember." He whispered like he thought you couldn't hear him.

You weren't sure what to say to that either. You just kept painting.

—

"This doesn't change anything. I'm still angry with you."

"Of course."

Zhongli never seemed to run out of tea. Despite not having brewed a new pot throughout your stay, the one on the table continued to steam, its aroma wafting leisurely throughout the room. When he offered you a cup after you left the canvas out to dry, you let yourself take it. You allowed him a calmer response when he spoke.

"This may upset you a bit more, but I am also somewhat bothered you never tried to talk to me."

"So we are at an impasse."

Of course, it did occur to you that you were both being hardheaded and moronic. But you were comforted by a few things.

"It would seem so." Zhongli nodded.

"Or maybe not." You quipped, glancing pointedly at an old painting on the wall. "You seem to have been stalking me, Mr. Zhongli."

"I think stalking might be a slight exaggeration."

"Oh, really."

Even as the mountains erode over the centuries, from the dust, they are fated to reform anew.

dividers from @clutteredfun

#mine #my writing #fics #requests #long post #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #gi zhongli #zhongli x reader #gi zhongli x reader #¡

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another-lost-mc · 9 months

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imagine some bittersweet angst where MC ends up with someone in the human world because she wasn't able to go back to the devildom, so the brothers look after MC's children and future descendants. Like imagine belphegor appearing in front of mc's daughter who calls him "uncle belphie", or lucifer and "mr Luci,". Basically being the guardian they couldn't be for lillith's descendants

a/n: okay that's a little sad to think about, but it's sort of precious too.

protecting what matters most | the demon brothers [dateables version]

1.2k words | sfw | gn!Reader

content/warnings: family dynamics and slice of life. fluff and angst, mention of character death and passage of time, mentions of raising children, platonic relationships with the demon brothers.

— Living in the Devildom for a year forged bonds with the demon brothers that can't be broken. You don't return, but they keep in touch with you however they can, starting with regularly scheduled phone calls and group chats over text, until eventually they surprise you with a visit to the human world.

— Asmo's the first one to find out that you met someone after you rebuilt your human life. The others didn't believe it until the day you formally introduced them to your partner. They hid their disappointment or anger or jealousy as best they could, but they had to admit that your partner was perfect for you. They'd never seen you so happy.

— Human lives are fleeting moments in time, and it wasn't until you told them about your engagement and upcoming nuptials that they realized your life would pass by in a blur. You'd be gone before they knew it, and they didn't want to take you for granted.

— They came to your wedding and gave you gifts, and they promised that their long-lost sister's future generations would be protected and cherished by them no matter what.

— Years pass and your house fills with family photos of your children's very eccentric uncles.

— Uncle Luci is the nicest. He bonds with your oldest child the most, but he teaches all your children the importance of family and patience and loyalty. Showing emotion and asking for help aren't signs of weakness, but signs of strength. He's also the one who gifted your family a puppy when your children were old enough to help care for it. He's in fewer photographs and videos than the rest of his siblings because he's usually the one volunteering to hold the camera. Watching your family stand intertwined with his fills the aching parts of his heart with love instead of pain and regret, and he wants to capture these special memories to look back on. His study and bedroom in the House of Lamentation are filled with these photographs too.

— Uncle Mammon is good at so many things. He shows them card tricks and he teaches them how to play games, too—Go Fish and Crazy 8's at first and Poker later. He tells them the importance of restraint and responsibility and that sometimes you need to make your own luck. He comes trick-or-treating on Halloween, and he'll even go into the haunted house attraction once they turn their puppy eyes on him. He helps the kids with math homework and science projects, and he helps each of them pick out and learn how to care for their first car. (He's twisted around their fingers the way he's still twisted around yours.)

— Uncle Levi is one of their favourites to invite for slumber parties. He brings lots of costumes and toys to play with, and he likes to watch cartoons and play video games as much as they do. He encourages them to be creative and unique no matter what anyone else thinks (but reminds them to call him or talk to their parents if they get teased or bullied). He takes the kids to opening day showings of the latest superhero movie they want to see, and they all come back with plastic collectible cups from the theater after eating way too much sugar. He gives some of the best gifts on special occasions and their birthdays.

— Uncle Sully fills your house with books. As your children grow older, he replaces their children's books with things more suitable for their ages and reading levels, and he delights when one of yours is as much of a bookworm as he is. He tries to teach them all about the power that comes from knowledge, and how books are not only a glimpse into the past but a hopeful peek into the future. He wants them to explore the world with an open mind and vivid imagination. He teaches them that family gives them strength and love and as long as they have each other, they can do anything.

(They start calling him Uncle Satan when they learn the truth about their beloved uncles. It was only a matter of time and you had years to prepare an explanation, but it still catches you off-guard: your children sitting very seriously at the kitchen table, looking at each other before one of them starts to speak. They ask tough questions about why their uncles don't seem to get any older, and why they can do all these amazing things they learn later is because of magic. Your youngest still calls him Uncle Sully; the others save that nickname for special occasions, just to get a rise out of him.)

— Uncle Asmo is so much fun! He helps you organize birthday parties and graduation parties, and when your children grow into adulthood and begin to live their own lives, weddings and honeymoons and baby showers too. He loves to be involved because he wants them to feel special and celebrated for all their achievements. It's also an excuse for him to spoil your family with clothes and gifts that you know can only be purchased in the Devildom. He helps you navigate their challenging teen years, talking to them about love and sex and healthy relationships. He makes sure they all know that he's there to lend an ear, a shoulder to cry on, or any other support or help they might need. He feels blessed to watch your family grow up because your love for them is so pure and beautiful; your impact on this world will linger long after you're gone.

— Uncle Beel and Uncle Belphie are the ones that take your children on some of their most cherished childhood adventures. They just happen to come by for a visit when traveling carnivals and theme parks open for the summer season. They all eat a ridiculous amount of food and come back with armfuls of souvenirs (which Beel happily pays for and refuses your attempts to pay him back). They suggest camping trips on long holiday weeks or ski vacations during the colder winter months. They like helping your children connect with nature and the stars and each other. Beel and Belphie tell the best stories, even if some of them are a little sad.

(They don't know until they're older that Uncle Belphie used to visit at nighttime and help care for them as babies. Sometimes you'd wake up and check on them to find them fast asleep in his arms while he rocked them in the chair beside their crib. Other nights, he visited when you'd already gotten up, but you always invited him to stay and listen while you hummed a lullaby.)

— Your children grow older and so do you. The demon brothers aren't ready to say goodbye—how could they be? When you're gone, it feels like they lost Lilith all over again. Death haunts them like shadow, but this time it's different because they realize that their family's not broken. It's stronger, and bigger, because you gave them that gift. In return, they promise to protect the descendants of Lilith that bear your name and have the same potential for greatness that you did.

— Your children's homes, and their children's after that, remain filled with photographs of their quirky uncles. The names and faces of the demon brothers are passed down along to each generation with a growing collection of impossible stories. It's your family's precious secret that each child is told when they're old enough to understand, because it's only a matter of time before the uncles arrive to visit them too.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me angst #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

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tgcg · 5 months

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listen here on youtube

so first of all thanks for 3,000 followers. holy shit. thats 3000 more than i expected so thanks

i really didnt think this blog would get to this point when i made it. and im never gonna get over how kind and encouraging you guys have been for me. unending respect & gratitude guys.

we're closin in on the end of 2023 now and im resolving to keep doing right by you guys and having fun running this blog with yall 🙂 thanks forever

i wanted to do somethin special for it and i thought id share one of my biggest inspirations for interpretin davekat. which is music i think they'd like. when you routinely blast davekat doodles onto mspaint canvases at 2am you need a backing track and these are common choices for me

3 songs for each dude for 3k fwlrs. man thats crazy...

tracklist + lil commentary under readmore

dave zone

1... 21st century pop song -- hymie's basement

this whole album i associate with dave a lot even tho its very depresse mode. i have way too many plays on this song. that beat is so real.

2... vice principal -- why?

that record scratch bit got me bouncing&trouncing manm. ive been listening to this song since i was a lil shitty kid. this voice is my headcanon voice for dave

3... re-do -- modern baseball

get a load of them lyrics son. passage of time, dinosaurs, trouble sleeping, watching movies, fear of death, love of life. recent fave, big fave.

KARKAT ZONE

4... i see failure -- antarctigo vespucci

another new beat 4 me but damn its an anthem. love dudes who shout. self fulfilling prophecies of relationship failure are peak karkat 2 me

5... the minors -- kawai sprite

i have never played friday night funky. i found this album by pure fuckin chance and its great, if you like this song give it a shot. sounds adult swim-y. i associate a lot of songs from this album with kk its a very distinct sound that i just connect with him fsr. the bittersweet sad anger of it

6... exactly where i'm at -- ween

this is a certified karkat classic 4 me. "look at yourself your lips are like 2 flabs of fat, they go front and back and flappity flappity flap". one of my fave things about ween is they have really vivid lyrics and rlly consistently hit this cool spacey, semi-aquatic vibe. i think this is because of drugs that they are awesome, so lets all do more druggs today

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #playlist #goddamn... take care everyone

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minarisplaything · 10 months

Text

Blackpink in Your Area (p1) ft. Jennie Kim

Pairing: Jennie Kim x Male!Reader Rating: Explicit / Mature Wordcount: 1.6k Summary: After her latest performance you find yourself sneaking backstage with your girlfriend.

AN: some context, this was made...god around the time of their first world tour? so writing wise it might not follow the same rhythm of my current stuff. but it's a personal fave i've had privately that i figure fuck it i might as well post it now. if you want to read a TWICE converted version of this chapter with Nayeon you can find it on my AFF profile but this is the OG never published version. Enjoy!

"Where are we going?"

"Ssh. Just come on!"

The accented voice leaves little room for argument as the owner's hand pulls you down another corridor. It seems with every turn you get further and further lost — which is likely the point. However, Jennie seems to know exactly where she is going, a small comfort at least. She pulls you down another tight passage then stops, pressing you against the cold wall. Instinctively you hold your breath before realizing you have no reason to — or at least you hope you don't.

"Jennie, you're acting like we're running from the cops," you speak, your voice a hushed whisper despite your previous reasoning.

"They might as well be the police," she responds, glancing back the way you came.

After another moment, she must be pleased that there is no one following you and turns to face you, a mischievous grin on her features. Without a word, she cups your face with her hands, bringing your lips down to meet hers in a slow, greedy kiss. Whatever concerns or confusion you had previously begin to fade away as your hands find their way around her. It has been so long since you had a moment together that you had forgotten how easy it was to melt into her embrace.

She pulls back, her nose brushing against yours. "If anyone saw us," even with your eyes closed, you can hear the relief and satisfaction in her voice. The kiss had the same effect on you. "This would be over and my career would be on the line," she places a kiss to your jaw as she speaks.

It is a bittersweet truth. What you have is masked in darkness and secrecy; not even the other members of her group know about you. If it were ever revealed to the public, not only would the fans and paparazzi eat you alive, dating is strictly against her company's rules. You always said that you would end things with her before you ever let that happen to her.

You feel her palm running over your cheek, your distressed thoughts likely showing on your face as your brow furrows. "Don't think about that now," she presses another kiss to your lips, then another and another; giving you plenty of time to notice just how soft and irresistible her lips are. By the fourth kiss, you are eagerly kissing her back, your hands sliding from her waist up her back, pulling her closer than you already were.

This time around your embrace is needier, hungrier; as if every second you were living on borrowed time. You feel her hands move from your cheek up into your hair, fingers running through and gripping at the short strands. Her teeth dig into your bottom lip, tugging on it while she peers up at you with those killer eyes of hers. The sight alone is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

"I need you," she says when she lets go, "Right here. Now."

As she speaks, one hand slides down from your hair, running over your chest and rubbing over your slacks. Her palm encourages the bulge that is growing there and you cannot deny that your arousal doesn't just come from her but the fact that at any moment you could be discovered. It is exhilarating in its own way. Adrenaline and lust are a dangerous concoction on any night but here with Jennie, it seems especially so.

You agree without a word, only giving a small nod of your head before you are spinning her around so her ass is jutting out to you while her hands splay against the opposite wall. She is still dressed in her stage outfit from the earlier performance, which doesn't help to subdue your eager hands in the least. She is stunning in every way, yet when she is on stage she still somehow seems to magnify that. Seeing the outfit just brings back memories of watching her earlier that night.

"Need some help there?" A teasing voice breaks you from your momentary recollection. Jennie is glancing over her shoulder at you, brunette hair partially masking her features. She has a vixen side to her and truth be told, you are used to her taking control and being in charge, but you also know that you cannot let this opportunity she is giving you go to waste.

In return, you offer her a smirk of your own, "Merely admiring the view." Though given your time and place, this is hardly the moment for appreciation.

You push her plaid skirt up, your hand dipping between her thighs. "You've soaked right through your training shorts, baby," you try to keep the arousal out of your voice, but the husky facade cracks just a bit. Jennie moans in response; the notion turns you on just as much as it does her clearly. "Just how long were you thinking about this?"

At first, it is a rhetorical question, but as your wrist snaps back and forth, fingers getting her off over her clothing, you find yourself eagerly waiting for an answer. Jennie does not give any; her breath comes out in quick hiccups. She leans further into the wall, her hips pressing out closer to you in obvious need. "Were you thinking about it during your performance?"

"Y-Yes..." she manages, her own hand reaching back to grip your wrist, refusing to let you stop. "When I saw you in the crowd — oh god."

You can tell she is going further and further down the rabbit hole. Her New Zealand accent becomes more pronounced the more aroused she gets. An astute observation you have made over your time together. It is not the only sign either; she is biting down on her plump bottom lip and her thighs are clenching deliciously around your hand.

Satisfied with her answer, you lean over her, your breath hot against the shell of her ear. "Baby, we don't have much time."

The idol takes a moment before she nods in response, her grip loosening on your hand. Your fingers deftly move from between her thighs to her waistband, pulling down her spanks to expose her to the night air. You make quick work of your pants buckle, or at least you try to. Your own eagerness causes your hands to fumble with it for a second before finally getting it undone and unzipped.

"Oh fuck..." Jennie moans loudly as you slide your length into her, and it is the most heavenly sound in existence. In any other time, you might've clasped one hand on her mouth to muffle the moans lest you be discovered, but in this moment, caution is thrown to the wind.

You can feel your cock swelling even further once you are inside her; the walls of her pussy clamping down on you. It takes you one thrust, then another before you are in to the hilt, a deep groan rumbling from your chest past your lips as you take a moment to revel in the sensation. That moment is all you allow yourself, however. Comparing it to the earlier kiss that had been the slow and eager first embrace; what comes next is pure hunger and lust.

Your hands grip her waist tighter as you pull out of her, hips snapping forward to meet hers. Another delicious moan reaches your ears as she lets her head fall back. Each thrust is harder and faster than the last, desperate to be with her and to have her coming undone in pleasure. Of course, to do that, you have to hold yourself together as well, and that is no easy task. "God, you feel so good."

The sound of skin slapping together begins to fill the space you have tucked into, mixing with the heavy breaths and moans that fill the air. You lean over her, one hand moving to turn her face towards you as your lips meet in a sloppy embrace. "I love seeing you like this. I want to make you feel this good all the time."

Jennie only moans in response, her mouth hanging open as she takes every inch of you. Your free hand moves from her waist to her chest; fondling her breast through her top. You have enough sense not to be so aggressive that you pop a button, but it is a tall task. The last thing you need is questions from the costume department.

"Fuck, right there," her hand reaches back, grabbing at your ass to force your cock back to hitting the same spot. Jennie is so used to being in control that you are almost tempted to deny her request. And maybe in a different time and place, you would have teased her for a bit before giving in. Now, however, you do not even have control over yourself, let alone strength to tease her. All you can do is what she asks of you. Hips move frantically to fulfill her desire, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

Her nails dig into your skin, and you can feel your own release coming as well. "I — I'm close!" you grunt in warning.

"Hold on, baby. Hold on, I'm almost there... almost...!" she goes quiet; her body tightening as her mouth falls open in a silent cry, her eyes shut tight as her orgasm runs through her. Fingers dig into the back of your neck as she comes, and it is just might've been the most beautiful thing you have witnessed since her last one. Jennie has never been the loudest when she comes undone, yet it is still enough for you to reach your breaking point.

"JENNIE?!"

Suddenly, a voice cries out, causing you to physically jump back, your cock springing free of Jennie's pussy, cum shooting in the air. When you look in the direction of the out crying voice, you are both aroused and horrified.

There stands Jennie's group-mate and best friend, Jisoo, her face coated in your cum.

"...Oh fuck..."

#male reader #blackpink smut #jennie kim smut #jennie x male reader #jennie kim x male reader #jennie kim x reader #kpop smut

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popponn · 7 months

Text

dating consultations. [nagi seishiro x f!reader]

notes: it's like 'wow feelings eh' read in elmo voice. then add my nagi phase and my recent obsession with childhood friend!nagi, it turns out like this. warnings: mentions (in a very unserious way) and (manga esque) depiction of break up at the end (not between you and nagi), mentions of bunch of break ups on your part, pinning, childhood friends + gaming buddies (?), obliviousness, post canon au, minor cursing. wo/ta/koi influenced this in some ways.

“Nagi Seishiro, listen to me,” you began.

“Don’t wanna,” Nagi replied, without lifting his head from his phone.

“So, I think my boyfriend broke up with me after finding out I spent money on gacha game,” you continued on, ignoring Nagi’s refusal. “I mean, sure, that's not a good financial decision. But hey, my husband gotta go home somehow and it's like an extra money that I already planned to spend anyway. Don't you get it?”

“No, I don't.”

“Exactly—but you see, I also think that he was honest, and what bothered him the most is because he found out that you and I play better in another game that he also played…” you trailed off at a sudden, more unpleasant that appeared in your mind. “…Seishiro, if I suddenly kick you out of the leaderboard’s number one spot, you will still be my friend right?”

“Nope,” Nagi replied without missing a beat. Like a rite of passage, you knew what came afterward would make you angry. “Your aim at FPS sucks way too much for that to happen.”

Immediately, you heaved out a short huff. You then threw your body over Nagi’s quickly, cuddling the soft blanket draped over him and enjoying the soft detergent scent left on it. Whining and protesting, you “Cheer me up, you brat! I raised you on my back since kindergarten and this is how you repay me?! We grew up in the same litter—spare some sympathy for me!”

(Seishiro found his whole body stiffening when you buried your face on his shoulder and pressed your chest towards his arm. Through the blanket, he could faintly feel your warmth and body. Five years ago, this would have been something he would brush off without batting an eye. Having crushes on oblivious childhood friends who only saw you as childhood buddies is hard—Seishiro noted dully.)

“Eh, why?” Nagi questioned back, blankly, focus still drilled on the PVP shooting game he was on. “This is your…how many breaks up it had been already?”

“…I know your social IQ is low, but can you stop rubbing salt over my wounds?”

“Anyway, don’t you think you break up way too often already to feel hurt?”

“…”

“…ah,” Nagi mindlessly cut the silence between the two of you. “That headshot was dirty.”

“…you are really bad at this whole cheering up thing,” you chided, sounding all too fond for it to have any effect at all. “And stop making me sound like some Whatpad bad boy.”

(From the corner of his sight, Seishiro saw a small smile etched itself on your lips. It was still too bittersweet for his liking, but at least after this—like always, as Seishiro had come to remember after all this time, without willing to—you would cheer up and stop talking about your nth ex. You wouldn’t sulk anymore and go on with whatever else except some guy who happened to be your ex.)

“Didn’t you say you want to be one, back in middle school?” Nagi questioned. “Also hurry up and log in, I need to grind for new artifacts.”

“That was middle school!” you screeched, feeling your whole head heating up due to some embarrassing flashbacks. “And you are still playing another game—I will log in later—”

“I’m done,” Nagi said, perfectly timed with the winning screen his phone displayed. “Log in. Hurry. Hurry.”

You glared dirtily at Nagi and his timing—or luck, whichever it was this time. “I hate you. Also, use Al-Haizen and Seno, I want the full ikemen academy team today.”

“Their synergy is shit.”

“And they are handsome. Your point?”

“I don’t wanna.”

“I will curse you with all defense and flat sub stat if you dare.”

“…that’s awful,” Nagi said, finally. His defeat was imminent from the start.

You sent him a wolfish smile, “And I’m still your only gaming buddy. Shush and just log in, big koala.”

“The one who is stuck on my back is you,” Nagi commented, while still following your words and changing his team before requesting to go to your map.

You laughed as you pressed your phone. With a certain brand of closeness laced in your voice, you protested, “Why are you this nosy with me? Last time I checked you are pretty obedient to Mikage, Isagi, and your captain.”

(Seishiro tried to process your words for a moment. To him, the answer has always been obvious in the way that both you and him even bothered to stick close to each other even as the two of you approached the age of twenty together. In how the one you told everything to is still him despite everyone in your life. In how if you ask, he will walk through the city just to pick you up after a terrible date and walk side by side to your home.)

Nagi stayed silent for a moment. From his side profile—adorable, handsome, yet still as baby-faced and familiar as ever—you could see how he was thinking. Then, he offered you an answer in a half-baked, dry tone, “…because it’s you?”

Once again, you laughed. Trying to swallow whatever odd beat his answer managed to draw from your heart deep and away from your face. “Gosh—watch your wording, Sei—oh, you are in already. Let’s go artifact farming! If it’s shitty let it just be Seishiro’s and not mine!”

As you hurriedly pressed your screen, you tried to not realize Nagi’s stare from your side.

You were not ready yet to admit whatever you felt for him was real. This was only a side effect of consecutive terrible break ups.

That was it and nothing else.

(”I don’t think I am the one you are in love with,” your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—told you gently. This was yet another same reason, just told to you in a gentler, more understanding way.

You could only watch him silently. You were confused, yet a part of you somehow managed to understand what he meant. However, you still couldn’t put what it was into words despite all that.

“..well, I don’t think you do it by purpose,” the man in front of you said with a nervous laugh. “…nonetheless, I’m rooting for the two of you. Don’t make him wait for too long, okay?”

Hearing that, even if you still couldn’t grasp much yet, you forced yourself to respond through your tears. “…I’m sorry...?”

“Don’t be. It should be me, really.” Ever the nice guy, your ex-boyfriend still smiled. “This is more of me saving myself from hurting in the future… just, think of it as me being bitter for being worse than you and that childhood friend of yours in that shooting game, okay?”

You laughed bitterly at that. Your crying hadn’t ceased yet, yet you managed out another reply, “Seriously? You are a shitty nice guy.”

Still smiling, your ex—a good friend, a gentle person, a diligent worker—gave you a chuckle that sounded guilty. “…sorry. I really hope we can still remain friends after this.”

“Of course. No way I’m letting go of a star student as a group project member just because of a breakup,” you joked, even if you were unsure of the future. Then, remembering how he is, you added, “And get your ugly mug off my sight now. We are breaking up—stop smiling, you bastard.”

“…well, then… should I… accompany you home…?”

“You are my ex now—no way, nice guy,” you shut him off quickly. Then, after a pause, it felt like an answer as you continued.

“…I will just call Nagi. Go away.”)

#bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #blue lock scenarios #bllk fluff #bluelock x reader #bllk nagi #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishirou #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi fluff #is this related to the other nagi fic? maybe but honestly not really #and also nagi is something as in this guy makes me fond but please do something about yourself. you worry me.#but this guy as the silently pinning childhood friend in concept is hilarious go nagi go boy

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rk1stars · 1 month

Text

WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS ( PART TWO )

-> part one

IN WHICH..

As you erase your memories of Sunghoon out of anger, a sense of regret slowly creeps in during the procedure. Despite your initial determination, doubts begin to surface about whether this is the right decision. As you make your way to his apartment, uncertainty gnaws at you. How will Sunghoon react when he sees you? Will he be surprised, angry, or confused? The thought of facing him fills you with anxiety, but deep down, you know you have to see him—one last time.

PAIRING & CATEGORIES

ex husband! Sunghoon x gn reader, second chance, divorced to lovers, angst?, fluff

CAUTION

force, kissing, skinship, crying, NOT proofread

STAR’S DIARY

I wrote this at midnight

TAGLIST

@cholexc @yyawnjun @rosas-in-the-garden @allforhee @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ifuckedheeseung @jooniesbears-blog @niki-the-genius @lilyuwon @ihrtnrk @kgneptun

HEADPHONES PLAYING..

we can’t be friends by ariana grande, ordinary things by ariana grande

“N-NO!” you sobbing and screaming while your tears stream down your eyes continually.

You were aware that you would eventually feel remorse for your actions. Your tendency to prioritize your trivial emotions over logic was a recurring pattern. The memories held great significance for you, each one cherished and irreplaceable. The thought of losing them all was unbearable, weighing heavily on your conscience

You couldn’t do it. It was a bad idea but even though you didn’t get your happy ending, you at least had a sweet story. Sunghoon made you the happiest you’ve ever been.

So you did it, you swiftly made your escape from the operation room and raced towards the familiar surroundings of you and Sunghoon's former apartment. The adrenaline fueled sprint through the city streets was exhilarating as you navigated through the bustling crowds, determined to reach your destination.

Memories flooded back as you approached the building, each step bringing you closer to the safety of your shared home. The sense of urgency pushed you forward, the need to escape and find solace in the comfort of familiar surroundings overwhelming. Finally, you reached the door, taking a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.

As you stood there waiting, time seemed to drag on endlessly. The feeling of impatience grew within you, making you question whether it was worth it to keep waiting.

Doubt crept into your mind, whispering that perhaps it was time to give up and walk away. But just as you were about to surrender to the frustration, a glimmer of hope appeared. The door finally creaked open, flooding your body with nervousness.

As you gazed upon the familiar figure of Sunghoon, memories from years past flooded your mind, causing tears to well up in your eyes. Sunghoon's own eyes widened in recognition, his lips parting in surprise as he took in the sight of you. The passage of time seemed to melt away as you both stood there, sharing a moment of silent understanding. It was a bittersweet reunion, filled with a mix of joy and sorrow at how much had changed.

As the silence lingers, a wave of embarrassment washes over you. His blank expression and lack of recognition leave you feeling small and insignificant. It's as though you never even crossed his mind, as if your presence in his life was completely forgettable. The weight of this realization settles heavily on your shoulders, causing a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“I- i’m sorry! You don’t even know me..” but as you were about to run away, you felt a warm hand gripping your wrist.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, a sudden warmth enveloped you. It was an embrace so comforting, so reassuring, that all your worries seemed to melt away. Sunghoon's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if promising to never let go.

His touch was like a gentle caress, soothing and tender, filling you with a sense of security and love. In that moment, everything else faded away, and you were left with the simple, pure joy of being held in his arms. It was a moment of pure bliss, a moment you wished would never end.

“Sunghoon..?”

“How do you even remember me..”

Finally, Sunghoon turned his gaze towards you, tears shimmering in his eyes. A faint blush rose to his cheeks as he nervously scratched his neck, a clear sign of his embarrassment. It was evident that he was struggling to find the right words to speak, his emotions overwhelming him. Despite his attempt to compose himself, his vulnerability was palpable.

The weight of his unspoken words hung heavy in the air, the silence between you both speaking volumes. And in that moment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy towards him, as you awaited his hesitant words with bated breath.

“I coudn’t do it..”

“I-i tried to but I just..”

Before he could continue speaking, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. The unexpected kiss caught him off guard, causing his words to fade away into a jumble of thoughts. His heart raced as he felt the warmth of your lips against his, a rush of emotions flooding through him. Time seemed to stand still in that moment as you shared a passionate connection.

The intensity of the kiss left him speechless, his mind reeling with confusion and desire. And in that instant, everything else faded away as he focused solely on the feeling of your lips on his.

As all the memories flooded through both of your minds, drawing you closer together, Sunghoon gently lifted you up. The rush of nostalgia washed over you, intertwining your hearts and souls in a moment of pure connection.

With each passing memory, the bond between you grew stronger, solidifying the unbreakable link you shared. Sunghoon's touch was tender yet firm, conveying a sense of protection and love. In that moment, you felt truly seen and understood, as if every memory was a thread weaving you both closer together. And in Sunghoon's arms, you knew you were home.

As the kiss broke, Sunghoon's breath hitched in his chest, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and worry as he gazed at you. The intensity of the moment lingered in the air, a silent exchange of emotions passing between you both. His gaze was filled with longing, his lips slightly parted as if yearning for more. But beneath the desire, there was also a hint of concern, a worry that perhaps he had crossed a line or that things were moving too fast.

“C-can we try again..?”

“Yes, dork.”

With a grin of relief, Sunghoon leaned in and kissed you once more before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you into his apartment. The warmth of his touch and the joy in his eyes filled you with a sense of contentment.

As he gently set you down, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the rush of emotions that flooded through you. The closeness between you two was undeniable, and in that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be. Sunghoon's kiss was a promise of love and happiness that you eagerly embraced.

At last, you guess you can say that you two finally got your happy endings..

#stars yapping #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen smau #enhypen comfort #enha fluff #imagine #enhypen x reader #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon angst #eternal sunshine

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merakiui · 1 year

Text

Mother

yandere!kabukimono x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, pregnancy, implied codependency, brief mentions of murder/death, brief mention of childbirth note - recently i was inspired to write a kabukimono story, so i hope you can enjoy it!

i. the miracle of life.

There is a little human growing within you.

Kabukimono has never heard of such a phenomenon, but according to you it’s a normal facet of life for all creatures. He, who has only ever interacted with men, young and old, and the occasional grandmother, has never known the word pregnancy. It’s a complicated concept he struggles to parse at first—like that first sip of sake or the stickiness of a sweet. It’s something that leaves you pleasantly rounded like a ripe lavender melon, softens the skin on your bones, and allows you to grow into the kimono that was once two sizes too large. It’s something you speak of with overwhelming warmth, a fondness so enticing it’s almost tangible. It’s something the men at the furnace discuss with great pride and merriment, swapping stories of their beautiful, beloved wives and the tiny miracles that dwell within the womb, adoration painted upon weathered countenances.

Miracles. Kabukimono has heard the word once or twice. Miracles, as he has come to learn, are wonderful things wrapped in silks. Newborns swathed in softness. Frail humans who manage to overcome illnesses that are said to snuff both body and soul with the excruciating passage of time. Sometimes a miracle is simple and not nearly as exciting as tales of heroes and villains or a mortal fight for recovery. Sometimes a miracle is waking up to begin another day. Sometimes it's torrential rain battering thirsty farmlands. Sometimes it’s a delicious meal prepared by a loving hand.

If Kabukimono’s existence were to be defined as a miracle, it would be both a grandiose, gilded lie and bittersweet flattery all in one pretty package. Miracles are wanted, loved, and accepted. Disasters, curses, failures—however you wish to name the wandering puppet—are unwanted, despised, and abandoned. Kabukimono may not know every truth of this vast world, but this is one he’s understood from the moment he awoke in a lonesome pavilion.

There is a little miracle growing within you.

“Although they’re not very little now,” you remark, taking his cold, bloodless hands in your warm, blood-filled ones.

You guide them to your belly, secured snugly with a hara-obi, and he averts his gaze, if only to be respectful of the bare flesh you’ve put on display. The men at the furnace note he often stares at you; they’ve said it’s unbecoming of a young man to fix licentious eyes upon a maiden. Once, they joked of repentance for invasive gazes: A man who strays too far from his honor when a lady is involved shall gouge his eyes out and present them to her in hopes of earning forgiveness. Kabukimono, unable to comprehend the sarcasm or the laughter, procured a shard of shattered glass, raised it to his eye, and was promptly stopped by a very concerned Niwa.

“Now listen here,” he had said, addressing the group of chuckling men, “it’s not very honorable to trick others.”

Kabukimono knows that there are two types of tricks: the painful kind and the painless kind. Betrayal falls under the painful category. Swapping his bitter tea for sake falls under the painless category (though he was not spared of the dizzying, disorienting effects or the subsequent hangover). Had he sliced his eyes from his skull, he wonders if he would have felt the sting, the agony, the fluid filling empty eye sockets—if such fluid even exists within his unique anatomy. Kabukimono is grateful for Niwa, for he often rescues him from painless tricks that may turn painful should he follow through with blind trust.

And, had he truly lost his eyes that day, he never would have had the pleasure of looking at you like he does now.

“Not very little…” he parrots, and he can practically feel the heartbeat from your miracle the moment his hands rest upon your belly. It shimmers in the candlelight, but that’s only because you’ve applied herbal oil meant to soothe weary muscles and prevent stretch marks. “How big will it become?”

You hum, idly trace patterns onto the tops of his hands, and say, “It’s difficult to approximate. Imagine…a very big lavender melon.”

Kabukimono can do that. He peers past you at the purple pile on the table, spoils from his last walk. He always returns with too many, but then pregnancy leaves you with a voracious appetite and sometimes you can eat more than one melon in one sitting. It’s very admirable, so he brings more each week and you never stop him.

“That’s big,” he mumbles, awestruck, and he slides a hand across the width of your stomach. “How does it fit?”

“It’s a miracle.”

“Oh.” He leans closer, suspecting he feels movement from within, and he’s proven correct when something shifts under his palms. His eyes, blown so very, impossibly wide, flick up to yours. “It… It moved!”

“Of course,” you say, smiling, and your eyes are the prettiest gemstones in the moonlight. He could stare at them forever. “They kick and squirm often. This, too, is the sweetest miracle.”

“How so?”

“A restless baby means they are alive and well within.” You look like a statue of the gentlest goddess when you cradle your stomach. “It’s all I could ever hope for.”

Curiously, Kabukimono withdraws his hands and lifts the hem of his silks to view his own flat, porcelain stomach. He presses a palm against synthetic skin. It’s cold, but there is life crackling beneath his hand, just barely contained within the frame his mother personally sculpted.

Mother. It’s another word he knows well, but he cannot seem to apply it to anyone other than his creator. But, as he has come to learn, a mother is meant to provide and protect. His mother is currently absent, so she cannot do those things.

“You must have something you want.”

Kabukimono lowers the fabric, cinches it tight, and peers at you. “Something I want?”

“Like a miracle of your own.”

“I am unable to conceive a miracle.”

You stare at him for a moment before laughing a quiet, melodious laugh. “It doesn’t have to be a child. It can be anything you want.”

His hands rise to his chest and he intends to admit his true wish—a heart and a place amongst humans—but instead he says, “I would like a mother for myself.”

“Do you not have a mother, Kabukimono?”

“I do… I did.” He shakes his head, finding that the admittance is too troublesome on his tongue. “I’m…unsure.”

You nod, your features softening with understanding. “Perhaps something else then?” Kabukimono reaches out to touch your belly, hesitates, and draws away, conflicted. You offer an encouraging smile. “You can touch. I don’t mind, and I don’t think the baby minds either.”

And so he does.

“I want to see your miracle when it’s brought into the world,” he whispers, speaking more to your baby than to you. “And I would like to know the miracle of life.”

As if in response, your little miracle kicks.

ii. the miracle of death.

Your little miracle almost fell from the sky that envelops it.

On the way to the furnace, a man bumped into you and you were sent stumbling on uneven ground. Kabukimono does not want to think of what could have happened if he hadn’t been a few steps behind—if he hadn’t rushed to your aid with a quickness rivaling lightning. He’d caught you in his arms and, noting the raw panic sullying such a friendly face, could only exhale a slow, relieved sigh.

When you fell, you were holding your belly, shielding it as if it was worth more than your own life. When you fell, the man who had been the catalyst for this short-lived horror did not jump in to catch you. When you fell, you were a sliver away from tragedy.

Kabukimono tastes red-hot anger in his throat, but he cannot understand where it’s coming from or why it consumes him entirely. But he must get it out of his system. It’s unpleasant and wrong and sordid. He doesn’t like it. Not at all.

And so, later that same day, he repays terror tenfold and leaves the man clinging to the strand he calls life.

“I won’t allow you to take my miracle away.” It’s spoken like a fact, shot through with syllables of deadly certainty. The sharpened tip of his blade prods at the man’s abdomen, a warning, a threat, and a promise all at once. For nearly taking a life, you shall pay for it with your own.

“Your mother?” the man had sputtered, terrified and confused, sticky with sweat and tears.

Kabukimono does not let the man speak again, for the sword sinks into his stomach, and unease morphs into painful torment. To be certain the man won’t survive, Kabukimono twists the sword, sullies his hands in the process, and yanks it free with startling strength. Blood speckles a pristine canvas. It’s warm and wet.

He did not say mother. He did not. You’re a miracle. You are not his mother. You will be a mother to your miracle, not him because he isn’t a miracle.

He did not say mother.

Kabukimono finds himself sitting across from you now. There is a ghastly tear in crimson-spattered silks. You suspect the truth in the liquid staining his attire. Surely you must. But you keep your lips pursed and thread the needle through with expert fingers, humming as you work. Kabukimono sits primly, watching you with bright, indigo hues. You hum a melody he has never heard before.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m uninjured.”

“I’m glad.” You snip the excess string away and tuck the needle into your sewing kit. “It’s fixed. I’m sorry if it looks a little awkward. I’m not the best at—”

“It’s perfect,” he insists, admiring the stitching as if it’s the most valuable thing in all of Teyvat. Irreplaceable, for no one could replicate your exact pattern, and that’s what makes it so special.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

He’s quiet for all of two minutes before the silence shatters his resolve. “Your miracle…” He frowns, suddenly ashamed. “He almost hurt your miracle…”

“But he didn’t, and I have you to thank for that.” You hold your hands out, palms up, and add, “Your hands aren’t meant to break and destroy others. You were given these precious palms to embrace others, to protect others, to respect others.”

Slowly, he places his hands in yours. His seem to weigh heavy like a grimy sin, yet somehow all it takes is a single touch from you and all of his filth is cleansed. His fingers curl around yours, entwining like vines.

“I will embrace others. I will protect others. I will respect others.”

You squeeze his hands reassuringly. “When you’re upset, rather than acting rashly, take a step back and sit with your feelings. If the unpleasant thing persists, come to me and we can discuss. But please don’t take your frustrations out on others. You weren’t made to hurt others.”

“Then if I was not made for destruction, what else could be the purpose for my creation?”

To that, you’re unable to produce a satisfactory reply. Instead, you pull one of your hands free, lick your thumb, lean towards him, and scrub the blood from his cheeks. He blinks at you, unaccustomed to such consideration. The men at the furnace often tease him for trailing after you like a lost, little duckling, seeking your approval and affection. Tonight, since the men are nowhere in sight, he thinks he can allow himself to be greedy without any admonishments from Niwa or Katsuragi. You sure do like that (Name), huh? the latter often muses, exchanging wary, furtive glances with Niwa, as if both are preparing to weather a calamity.

Kabukimono always speaks the truth unless he must take care to conceal it. So when he tells them, I like her more than I like the world that surrounds me, he means it. Because without you there is no world.

“Thank you, Mother,” he murmurs, as if it’s a secret, a title not meant to be uttered by him.

Oh, he said it again. He said mother.

iii. the miracle of motherhood.

Kabukimono kneels at your bedside like an angel of death dressed in the purity of white. He watches you throughout the hour, listening to your cries, your groans, your hisses, while a grandmother assists below, whispering soothing consolations that somehow reach Kabukimono’s ears despite the shrill noises that fill the room. Kabukimono has learned she’s a granny who delivers life, so he puts his faith in her to take good care of you and your miracle.

The process is much longer than he anticipated. Though you’re covered in sweat and tears, your chest heaving, your hand searching for him in the midst of the commotion, you are the most beautiful miracle he has ever known. He closes his hand around yours and you squeeze so hard you might just tear his wrist from the joint. But it doesn’t hurt him, and he spends the afternoon at your side, watching the toll the miracle takes on your body.

He never blinks, burning the scene into his retinas.

Some time later, you are holding your miracle in your arms, tears tracking down your cheeks in salty streaks. Kabukimono watches mother and child with wide, adoring eyes. After all this time, your miracle is finally here! You’re holding such a fragile human and there is love trickling from your lash line. Kabukimono wants to cry with you, but the tears won’t come.

So instead he smiles. You seize his wrist and drag him down to where you rest, and the smile widens.

“Your miracle is leaking,” he observes, and you snort in amusement.

“Crying,” you correct, bumping your forehead with his. “She’s adorable, isn’t she?”

Kabukimono is inclined to agree, but your eyes are not on him. For the first time in the many months he’s been acquainted with you, he is not all you see. Somehow that saddens him, carves a hole into him, but he can’t mourn. He shouldn’t. He’s come to learn that the miracle of childbirth is an occasion worthy of celebration. He should be happy for you—and he is—but there is a pang in his chest. Something is not fitting where it should. Something is amiss.

“I think I’ll name her…Aika.”

“Is it common to give miracles names?”

“Of course. Everyone has a name, even you. We’re all given one the moment we’re born.”

Even me…

Aika continues to cry and you rock her to and fro in your arms, shushing her with a song. She settles within minutes, lulled to sleep, and you follow shortly after. He refuses to leave your bedside, preferring to watch over you like a dutiful guard.

Kabukimono weighs his two warring wants: a name of his own, generously given by his mother, and you. In this very moment, you are attainable. A name, however, is not. But perhaps he can survive without one if it means you’ll accompany him through nameless wandering.

He’s only ever whole when he’s with you.

iv. the miracle of rebirth.

The Balladeer stands at an all-too-familiar doorstep. He has since swapped his pure linens for a shroud of darkness, and he’s taken on a new alias (he refuses to call it a name, for only you can grant him one). You haven’t changed in the many years that have since followed, for you are not fully human like him. Yet you veil yourself in the wonders of humanity, always empathetic in nature, tainted with weak emotions. You will never be human, but then neither will he and there is catharsis in similarity. The both of you stand on equal ground in that regard, or so you might have thought.

He is better because he feels nothing, or so he believes. Perhaps, in the center of the labyrinth that is his mind, he recognizes his flaws and the fact that he is worse because you can accept the many aspects of humanity.

Shrugging these irritations away, he composes himself, squares his shoulders, and knocks thrice. He could forego etiquette altogether, kick your door down, and force himself inside for the sake of a cruel surprise, but he refrains from doing so. He suspects your newest miracle might tumble from your sky if he shocks you and then you will never know the sweet cycle of motherhood again.

You know better than to ignore Death when he comes knocking. The door opens wide; there’s no need to crack it and peek through the thin sliver when you’re already aware of the person who awaits you on the other side.

As he has observed over the course of many months, you do have another miracle, hidden under the softness of a floral-patterned kimono. He smiles at you, sharp and wicked under a blanket of stars, and spreads his arms for a hug.

“Mother,” he says in a sarcastic singsong, knowing it unnerves you terribly when it spills like sin from his lips. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

Like an old habit, you welcome him in. Beyond your doorstep, the corpse of your most recent lover lies slumped and bloodied, decapitated and disemboweled, dragged so far there’s a vermilion trail marking the path. Sometimes you think these humans are not killed by The Balladeer but rather by the sheer ferocity of the hatred and anger he harbors. He’s always diligent with each of your lovers, swooping in the moment he catches their scents, like a predatory cat finely tuned for slaughter.

He palms at your stomach, uncharacteristically gentle. “Aren’t you just full of miracles, Mother?”

There is a little human growing within you, and The Balladeer has made it his duty to bear witness to the birth of each one of your miracles.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere kabukimono #yandere kabukimono x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader

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planet-marz1 · 6 months

Text

Is It Over Now?

Summary: Still reeling from Joel's revelation, you find solace in someone new. Pairing: Joel x F!Reader Word Count: ~7.1k

Tags/Warnings:18+MDNI no use of y/n, jackson!joel, established relationship, angst, somewhat? happy ending, infidelity, joel just kinda sucks honestly,alcohol consumption, implied smut (not with joel), lots of joel tears, pet names (sweetheart), jealousy, insecurities, self doubt, reader is in her healing era, reader slaps a bitch (it's deserved, I swear)

A/N: Hi! This is the second, and final part of this series, though I have a few more drabbles & oneshots planned to write and post. This is dedicated to my love @kajashe 💗 and thank you to my beloved @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading this for me! and yet another thank you to all of my friends who listened to me ramble on about this for the past several days in discord 💜

beautiful dividers by @/saradika

follow my fic updates blog @planetmarz1-notifs

| part i | series masterlist | main masterlist |

The passing weeks were a blur of emotional turmoil and quiet introspection. The once-familiar routines of life felt like a distant memory, replaced by a persistent ache that accompanied every moment of solitude. Your days were marked by the slow process of healing, a journey undertaken one painful step at a time.

Joel had respected your request for space, retreating to the refuge of his brother Tommy's home. The absence of his presence in your shared space only served as a constant reminder of the void that had opened up in your life. Jackson carried on with its daily rhythm, oblivious to the personal upheaval that had unfolded within its walls.

Nights were the hardest. The quiet darkness seemed to amplify the echoes of the past, and sleep became an elusive visitor. The couch where you had waited for Joel that fateful night became a throne of solitude, the cushions bearing silent witness to the nights spent wrestling with the fragments of a broken heart.

In moments of vulnerability, you allowed yourself to revisit the memories of the life you had built together. Photographs adorned the walls, frozen moments in time that now carried the weight of bittersweet nostalgia. The laughter, the shared dreams, and the quiet moments of connection—all now tainted by the knowledge of his betrayal.

The settlement's whispers reached your ears—a mix of sympathy, curiosity, and the well-intentioned attempts of friends trying to fill the void left by Joel's absence. Their concern was palpable, but the wounds were still fresh, the healing a slow and arduous process.

Alone in the quiet living room, the remnants of your shattered relationship lingered like ghosts in the air. The moon cast a cold glow through the window, illuminating the space where the truth had been laid bare. The weight of Joel's confession hung heavy in the room, and you were left grappling with a mix of emotions that threatened to consume you.

You sat on the couch, staring into the darkness outside, your mind racing to make sense of the betrayal. Every corner of the room seemed to echo with the whispers of the life you thought you knew, now tainted by the harsh reality of Joel's infidelity.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant sounds of the settlement outside. You replayed the moments leading up to this revelation, searching for signs you might have missed, clues that could have prepared you for the storm that had now engulfed your relationship.

The ache in your chest deepened, and you could feel the hot prickle of tears threatening to spill over. Anguish, betrayal, and confusion mingled in a tumultuous storm within you. You wanted answers, an explanation that could somehow make sense of the wreckage now surrounding you.

The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, marking the passage of time in a world that suddenly felt unfamiliar. As you sat there in the quiet, you wondered how the foundation of your life had crumbled so swiftly, like sand slipping through your fingers.

Outside, the settlement continued its slumber, blissfully unaware of the personal cataclysm unfolding within your home. You needed time to process the truth, to navigate the emotional minefield that now lay before you.

The door creaked open, and Joel stepped back into the room, his eyes filled with regret. The air tensed as he hesitated, unsure of his place in this shattered reality. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of the words.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. The distance between you felt insurmountable, a vast chasm that had opened up in the wake of his betrayal. "I need time to figure this out," you said, your voice steady despite the tempest of emotions within you.

Joel nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the consequences he had brought upon himself. As he left the room again, the door closing softly behind him, you were left alone with the wreckage of a love that had weathered countless storms, only to be undone by the tempest within.

So here you are now, at the Tipsy Bison, with its low hum of conversations and the comforting clink of glasses, served as a temporary escape from the turmoil within. The dimly lit bar offered a semblance of solace, a place to drown the sorrows that had become constant companions.

You sat alone at the bar, nursing a drink, the amber liquid reflecting the flickering candlelight. The weight of recent events lingered, a heavy burden you sought to momentarily cast aside. The soft music in the background provided a melancholic soundtrack to the evening.

As you stared into the depths of your drink, Noah took the seat next to you—a familiar face in the crowd, someone you'd seen around the settlement but never really paid much attention to. His attempts at small talk were met with your usual indifference. In the past, your loyalty to Joel had been unwavering, and the idea of entertaining advances from others never crossed your mind.

Tonight, however, the rules had shifted. The wounds of heartbreak were still raw, and the empty space beside you echoed the absence of a familiar presence. Noah persisted, undeterred by your initial disinterest.

"Rough night?" he asked, a half-smile playing on his lips.

You looked at him, a mixture of exhaustion and pain in your eyes. "You could say that."

Noah nodded, understanding glinting in his eyes. "Sometimes a drink is the only company we've got."

A subtle smile played on your lips as you reciprocated his banter. "Seems like you're here for more than just the drinks."

He chuckled, a warmth in his voice. "Well, it's not every night I get to share the bar with someone as intriguing as you, sweetheart"

The dance of flirtation continued, the bar becoming a stage where you and Noah played out a scene of shared laughter and camaraderie. The soft music provided a backdrop to the banter, a temporary escape from the weight that had settled on your shoulders.

Noah leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "You know, I've seen you around, but we've never really talked. What brings you here tonight?"

You sighed, a moment of vulnerability slipping through. "Just trying to forget for a little while, I guess."

He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "Sometimes, a little distraction is all we need."

As the night wore on, the boundaries between reality and the fleeting connection blurred. Noah became a temporary ally in a battle against the memories that threatened to engulf you. In the shadows of the Tipsy Bison, you allowed yourself a momentary escape, a reprieve from the heartache that still clung to the edges of your world.

The hours passed in a haze of shared stories and laughter. Noah proved to be an unexpected source of comfort, his presence a balm to the wounds that had yet to fully heal. The Tipsy Bison became a refuge, a sanctuary where, for a brief moment, the weight of heartbreak was lifted.

As the night progressed, Noah's conversation turned more earnest, his gaze holding a sincerity that resonated with you. "You know," he said, his voice softened by the dim ambiance of the bar, "Sometimes it helps to talk about what's going on. You don't have to carry it all alone."

The vulnerability in his words echoed the vulnerability you had been avoiding. The temptation to open up, to share the burden, tugged at the edges of your restraint. "It's just been a tough time," you admitted, a hint of gratitude in your voice.

Noah nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "I get that. Life has a way of throwing curveballs when we least expect it."

The moment stretched, the connection between you deepening. The bar, once a backdrop for distraction, now felt like a space where two people navigating the complexities of life found common ground.

As the night neared its end, Noah leaned in, his voice a whisper. "I'm not an expert in fixing things, but if you ever need someone to listen, I'm here."

His sincerity resonated, and you nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Noah. It means more than you know."

The Tipsy Bison, with its flickering lights and the hum of conversations, witnessed a different side of you that night—a side that embraced vulnerability and sought solace in unexpected places. As you parted ways, the weight on your shoulders felt a bit lighter, and the bar's exit became a threshold to a world where healing, though uncertain, seemed a little more attainable.

The night air felt cool as you and Noah stepped out of the bar, the soft glow from the neon sign casting a gentle halo around you. The settlement slept in the quiet darkness, oblivious to the shared moments of connection that had unfolded within the bar's walls.

The walk back to your house was a journey through silent streets, the hushed conversations between you and Noah punctuated by the occasional rustle of leaves in the night breeze. The weight of the evening's revelations lingered, but in Noah's company, it felt less burdensome.

As you approached the front door, you turned to him, a newfound warmth in your eyes. "Do you want to come in? Maybe have another drink?" The invitation hung in the air, a testament to the unexpected bond that had formed between you.

Noah's response was a gentle smile "I'd like that," he said, his voice carrying a sense of genuine camaraderie.

The door opened with a soft creak, and the familiar comfort of your home greeted you both. The living room, once a witness to heartache, now seemed to hold the promise of shared moments and tentative healing.

You settled on the couch, the echoes of the night's laughter still lingering. The air felt charged with the unspoken, a connection that transcended the confines of mere friendship. As you poured another round of drinks, the silence between you felt comfortable, a space where words were unnecessary.

Noah's eyes met yours, and in that shared gaze, there was an understanding that words could not fully capture. The vulnerability of the evening had laid bare the complexities of your heart, and Noah, in his quiet way, seemed to offer a respite from the storm.

As the night unfolded, the connection deepened. Laughter, shared stories, and the gentle ebb and flow of conversation filled the room. In that unexpected companionship, you found solace—a reminder that, even in the aftermath of heartbreak, there were still moments of connection waiting to be discovered.

The time you two had spent together at the bar had been a catalyst for change, and now, in the quietude of your home, you allowed the night to unfold, unsure of where it might lead but grateful for the warmth that had found its way into the cracks of a wounded heart.

The ambiance in the room shifted subtly, the air thickening with a newfound energy that danced between you and Noah. The shared laughter and easy conversation took on a softer note, and the space on the couch seemed to shrink, drawing you both closer.

You caught Noah's gaze lingering, his eyes holding a warmth that went beyond mere camaraderie. The flickering candlelight cast a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the sincerity in his eyes. A charged silence settled between you, one that spoke volumes without the need for words.

As you sipped your drinks, the magnetic pull of the moment intensified. The shared vulnerability of the evening had forged a connection that transcended the ordinary, and in the quietude of the living room, the boundaries between friendship and something more blurred.

Noah's fingers traced absentminded patterns on the rim of his glass, and his gaze met yours with a subtle intensity. The unspoken tension hung in the air, a delicate dance that neither of you seemed eager to disrupt.

The air seemed to hum with anticipation as you leaned in, drawn by an invisible force that defied explanation. The room held its breath, and in that suspended moment, your lips brushed against each other in a gentle, tentative kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, the warmth of Noah's touch sending a current of electricity through you. The weight of heartbreak momentarily lifted, replaced by the promise of something new, something uncharted.

You don’t care about anything else but losing yourself in the feeling of being loved even if just for tonight. As the passion between you continues to escalate with each passing second, all thoughts of tomorrow fade away into oblivion leaving only this one perfect moment stretching out endlessly before the two of you like an eternal embrace.

The air in your home was filled with a mix of holiday scents — the piney aroma of the Christmas tree, the faint whiff of cinnamon from the candles scattered around the room. It was Christmas Eve, and the settlement was adorned with festive lights and decorations.

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of the deep green dress you had chosen for the occasion. Despite the outward festivities, a quiet melancholy clung to you, a reminder of the heartbreak that still lingered beneath the surface.

As you finished getting ready, the soft knock on the door signaled Noah's arrival. His presence, a comforting constant in the weeks that followed that unexpected encounter, had become a source of solace. Tonight, however, the prospect of a Christmas party loomed, and the idea of celebrating seemed to clash with the healing wounds of your past.

Noah entered, a warm smile on his face as he took in your appearance. "You look stunning," he remarked, his eyes reflecting a mixture of admiration and concern.

You managed a small smile in return, the weight of your unspoken thoughts evident in your eyes. "Thanks, Noah. I'm just not sure I'm in the festive mood, you know?"

He approached and gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I understand. But Maria insisted, and maybe being around people, even for a little while, might help."

Reluctantly, you nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words. Maria had been a steadfast presence in your life, offering support and encouragement as you navigated the aftermath of heartbreak. Tonight's Christmas party was her attempt to bring a glimmer of joy into your world.

Together, you and Noah made your way through the decorated streets toward the town center. The settlement buzzed with festive energy — laughter, music, and the scent of holiday treats wafting through the air. As you approached the venue, the warm glow of lights spilled from the windows, casting a welcoming glow.

The Christmas Eve party in town was in full swing, with the warm glow of lights and the spirited energy of the season enveloping the settlement. As you navigated the festive atmosphere with Noah at your side, the subtle shift in your mood was palpable. The healing process was slow, but the comfort of friends and the shared moments of celebration were working their magic.

As you entered the bustling venue, your eyes caught a familiar figure across the room — Joel. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, the shock of seeing him after weeks of absence coursing through your veins. His presence cast a shadow over the festive scene, and the room suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier with unspoken history.

Noah sensed your tension, his grip on your hand tightening in a silent reassurance. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched across his face.

You nodded, attempting to mask the surprise that rippled beneath the surface. "Yeah, I just… I didn't expect to see him here."

Noah glanced toward Joel, his expression thoughtful. "Do you want to leave? We can go somewhere quieter."

You considered the offer, but something in you resisted the impulse to retreat. "No, let's stay. I need to face this."

Together, you and Noah approached the gathering. As Joel noticed your presence, his eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and a hint of remorse flickering in his gaze. The air crackled with the unspoken tension of past wounds and unanswered questions.

Maria, ever perceptive, approached, greeting you with an exuberant hug, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. Her warm smile faltered as she sensed the dynamics at play. "I didn't know he would be here. I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable for you."

You offered a tight smile, the weight of the situation settling around you. "It's okay, Maria. I can handle it."

The party unfolded with the spirited energy of the season — people dancing, laughter filling the air, and the exchange of heartfelt wishes. As you moved through the festivities, Noah's hand found yours, a subtle reassurance in the midst of the crowd.

The night progressed, and despite your initial hesitations, a subtle shift occurred. The music, the laughter, and the shared moments with friends began to chip away at the walls around your heart. The healing process was ongoing, and in the company of those who cared, the weight of heartbreak felt a little lighter.

A moment of stillness settled over the room. In that quiet pause, your eyes met Joel's once more. The unspoken history, the shattered pieces of a relationship, and the complexity of emotions were etched in that shared gaze. Noah's hand found yours again, a grounding force amidst the emotional storm.

As you navigated the remainder of the Christmas party, the unspoken tension with Joel remained, but in the company of friends and the warmth of the season, you found solace. The dance of emotions continued, and as the night unfolded, you carried with you a newfound resilience, a testament to the strength found in facing the unexpected and the hope that lingers in the aftermath of heartbreak.

Amidst the swirl of holiday festivities, your eyes inadvertently caught a glimpse of Veronica across the room. Her presence, unexpected yet inevitable in a close-knit settlement, stirred a complex mix of emotions within you. As she engaged in conversation with others, a subtle ache of self-doubt crept into your thoughts.

What did she have that made Joel cheat on me with her?

The question lingered, not born out of jealousy, but rather a yearning for understanding. The doubts festered like quiet shadows in the corners of your mind, threatening to overshadow the celebratory atmosphere.

Noah sensed the shift in your demeanor, his grip on your hand tightening as a silent gesture of support. "You okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

You forced a small smile, attempting to dispel the doubts that threatened to cloud the festive evening. "Yeah, just unexpected seeing her here, you know?"

Noah nodded in understanding, his gaze a reassuring anchor in the sea of emotions. "You're stronger than you think. Remember that."

As you continued to navigate the party, the glimpses of Veronica sparked moments of introspection. The dance of doubt and self-reflection unfolded, but amidst it all, a deeper truth emerged — the strength to confront insecurities and the resilience to rise above the echoes of past heartbreak.

Joel remained on the periphery, a figure in the background of the unfolding drama. The unspoken tension with Veronica echoed the complexities of relationships, and in the midst of the holiday cheer, you found a quiet resolve to focus on the present and the connections that mattered most.

As the party continued, a lingering curiosity pulled you toward Veronica. The desire for closure and understanding overshadowed the self-doubt that had surfaced. The pulsating beat of the Christmas music seemed to align with the tension in the air as you approached Veronica. The crowd hushed in the wake of your confrontation, and even the festive decorations couldn't quite drown out the charged atmosphere.

This is it, you thought, your fists clenched by your sides. Time to confront the source of this mess. "Veronica," you said, your voice edged with a simmering anger. "We need to talk."

She turned, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Well, look who decided to show up. Didn't think I'd see you here."

Hold it together, you reminded yourself, swallowing the initial surge of rage. She's not worth it. Ignoring the jab, you pressed on. "Cut the crap. What happened between you and Joel?"

Veronica chuckled, a snarky glint in her eyes. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure he's got his version of the story."

Like I haven't already tried, you thought, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. But I want to hear it from her.Your patience wore thin, and a flash of anger ignited. "I'm asking you. What did you think you were doing?"

Veronica rolled her eyes, an unapologetic tone lacing her words. "Oh, please. Don't act clueless in all of this. Joel and I, we had our reasons."

Reasons? The word echoed in your mind, a bitter taste settling on your tongue. The retort stung, and you shot back,"What reasons could there possibly be to betray someone like that?"

Keep her on the defensive, you urged yourself. Make her face the consequences of her actions.

Veronica's smirk persisted, her snarky demeanor unyielding. "Maybe you should ask Joel what he was missing at home."

No. Don't let her deflect the blame. The anger surged again, a tempest threatening to consume reason.

The words hung in the air, a venomous revelation that fueled the anger within. The crowd around you seemed to blur as the confrontation intensified, each word exchanged an arrow that pierced through the facade of festive cheer.

Everyone knew, you mused bitterly. The whole damn town knew you and Joel were together.

As the exchange reached its peak, the energy between you and Veronica crackled with unresolved emotions. The pulsating beat of the music in the background seemed to align with the tension in the air, the crowd still hushed in the wake of your confrontation. Each word exchanged felt like a seismic tremor, shaking the foundations of the festive atmosphere.

"You're unbelievable," you seethed, the anger boiling over. "I hope you're proud of yourself." Stay strong, you reminded yourself, fighting against the torrent of emotions. You've got this.

Veronica shrugged, a nonchalant expression masking any hint of remorse. "I did what I wanted. Life's too short for regrets."

Regrets, the word echoed in your mind. Is she really that callous? Keep it together, you urged yourself, clenching your fists by your sides. Don't let her see how much she's getting to you.

Noah, sensing the escalating tension, remained by your side, a silent pillar of support. The confrontation with Veronica had become a battleground of emotions, a clash between hurt and defiance.

This is it. The moment of truth.

In a flash, the weight of anger, frustration, and betrayal coalesced into a surge of raw emotion. Without a second thought, your hand connected with Veronica's cheek in a resounding slap. The crowd, which had been observing in a stunned silence, erupted into gasps and whispers.

Veronica stumbled back, her hand on her cheek, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and indignation. The slap reverberated through the room, a cathartic release of the pent-up emotions that had been building since the revelation.

"You deserved that," you declared, your voice steady, though your heart pounded with the intensity of the moment.

As Noah guided you away from the charged atmosphere, the weight of the confrontation lingered. The Christmas party resumed its festive cheer, but the encounter with Veronica had become a defining chapter, a moment where you asserted your strength and reclaimed a sense of control in the aftermath of betrayal.

The brisk night air greeted you as you and Noah stepped out of the lively Christmas party. The settlement was adorned with a soft blanket of snow, and the crunch of each footstep echoed in the quiet winter night. The atmosphere outside was a stark contrast to the charged energy that had filled the party just moments before.

Noah kept a reassuring arm around you as you navigated the snowy path toward your house. The silence between you was a comforting one, a respite from the emotional turbulence of the evening. The distant sounds of laughter from the party gradually faded into the serene stillness of the snowy landscape.

The glow of the settlement's lights reflected off the pristine snow, casting a soft illumination on the familiar path. The events of the night lingered in the air, and as you reached your doorstep, you turned to Noah with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion.

"Thanks for being there," you said, your voice carrying the weight of the emotions that had unfolded.

Noah nodded, his expression filled with understanding. "Anytime. You handled that with a lot of strength."

You managed a small smile, appreciating his support. "I just want to move forward, you know? Leave all this behind."

The snowflakes continued to fall, adding a sense of serenity to the moment. As you opened the door to your home, the warmth inside offered a stark contrast to the chilly night. The familiar surroundings provided a sense of solace, a haven away from the echoes of the confrontation.

The air in the room felt heavy with unspoken tension as you confronted Joel about his infidelity. The harsh reality of betrayal lingered, casting a shadow over the relationship you had thought was secure.

"Why, Joel?" you demanded, your voice a mix of pain and anger. "Who was it? Who did you cheat on me with?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes avoiding yours for a moment before meeting your gaze with a mixture of regret and guilt. "It was Veronica," he confessed, the weight of the revelation hanging in the air.

Veronica's name echoed in your mind, a face from the town, someone you had known, someone whose presence had been intertwined with your life in the settlement. The shock of the revelation was like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the room seemed to spin.

"Veronica?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. The name felt like a betrayal in itself, a person who had shared the same space as you, someone you had considered a part of the community.

Joel's expression shifted, a mix of remorse and desperation. "I messed up, It wasn't about her. It was about me, about the mistakes I made."

The words did little to ease the pain, and the room became a battleground of conflicting emotions. Anguish, betrayal, and disbelief swirled within you, a storm of feelings that threatened to overwhelm.

As you absorbed the revelation, the weight of the truth settled. Veronica, a name that had been a mere background detail in the tapestry of your life, now held a significance that cut deep. The confrontation with Joel had peeled back the layers of the facade, revealing a reality you had never anticipated.

In the midst of the emotional maelstrom, you took a step back, needing distance to process the harsh truth. The room, once a sanctuary, felt foreign and unwelcoming. The echoes of the revelation hung in the air, and as Joel sought words of apology, you grappled with the shattered pieces of a relationship that had crumbled in the wake of betrayal.

The weight of that night lingered in your thoughts. Veronica's presence, once a casual detail in the fabric of your life, had become a symbol of a painful chapter in your past. The journey of healing continued, marked by the scars of the confrontation and the resolve to move forward, one step at a time.

The soft murmur of pages turning and the hushed whispers of readers created a peaceful ambiance in the small settlement's library. As the librarian, you were engrossed in arranging the shelves when the door creaked open. A tall, rugged man entered, a hint of unfamiliarity etched into the lines of his face.

Joel, a newcomer to the community, you’d seen him around town with a young girl practically attached at his hip. He cast an assessing glance around the room before approaching the counter where you stood. His eyes, weathered and guarded, met yours as he cleared his throat, his voice gruff but not unkind. "I'm lookin' for books about space."

You looked up from your task, offering a warm smile. "Space, huh? Planning a journey to the stars?" you teased, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Joel's lips twitched into a small smile, a rare expression on his usually stoic face. "Not exactly. Got a kid back home who's mighty interested in space. Wants to know everything there is."

Interest sparked in your eyes as you couldn't help but inquire, "Your daughter, then?"

He hesitated, a subtle shift in his gaze, but he didn't correct you. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

Your smile widened. "Well, you've come to the right place. We've got a stellar collection—pun intended."

Joel nodded, a silent acknowledgment of your attempt at humor. "Good to know."

As you led him through the aisles, the conversation flowed easily. He shared stories of Ellie, a girl he watched over, protected, and cared for deeply. The love in his words painted a vivid picture, and when you mentioned how wonderful it was that he and his "daughter" shared such interests, he didn't correct you.

"So, what's her favorite subject?" you asked, your tone playfully nudging towards the unspoken connection.

He chuckled, a soft warmth in his eyes. "Space, definitely. She's got a million questions about stars, planets, you name it."

You grinned, leaning slightly closer. "Well, Joel, it seems you've got a budding astronomer on your hands. Lucky for you, I'm an expert in celestial matters."

Joel's expression remained stoic, but there was a subtle glint of amusement in his eyes. "Is that so?"

You nodded, your gaze meeting his with a hint of mischief. "Absolutely. But my expertise doesn't come cheap. I'll need payment in the form of a good conversation and maybe a coffee sometime."

Joel's chuckle deepened, and a grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "Coffee, huh? You got yourself a deal."

As Joel left the library with a stack of books, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth. The door closed behind him, leaving you with the subtle hum of excitement and the gentle echo of playful banter that seemed to linger in the air. The library, once a quiet haven of solitude, now held the promise of a story unfolding—one with celestial wonders and perhaps a touch of romance.

in the quiet moments of reflection, your mind often wandered to the time when you and Joel first met. The memory used to bring a warm smile to your face—the genuine laughter, the shared dreams, the promise of a future entwined with his. But now, each recollection was tainted by the bitter sting of betrayal, and the nostalgia had become a source of pain.

As you sat alone in the dimly lit room, the flickering shadows seemed to mimic the turbulence within your heart. The memory of your first meeting played in your mind like a melancholy film—a reminder of the love that had once been untarnished. The weight of what had transpired since then pressed down on you, leaving a bitter aftertaste to a memory that had once been so sweet.

The soft hum of a distant song, a melody you both used to share, brought a wave of conflicting emotions. Your mind wandered back to that day—the laughter, the stolen glances, the electric feeling of a connection that transcended words. It was a time when you looked into his eyes and felt like you had found something extraordinary.

But now, those memories were haunted by the echoes of his infidelity, and the rose-tinted glasses you once wore shattered, revealing the painful truth beneath. The laughter had become an echo, the glances a cruel reminder, and the connection a frayed thread threatening to unravel.

In the midst of the emotional turmoil, you found yourself thinking, almost wistfully, about what life would have been like if you'd never met Joel. The thought was a bitter pill to swallow, a testament to the depth of the wounds inflicted.

You replayed the scenes of your shared history—the highs and the lows, the joy and the heartbreak. The almost-wish lingered in the recesses of your mind, a testament to the profound impact of betrayal on the once cherished memories.

Joel has shown up at your door, trying to extend a tentative olive branch, an attempt to breach the chasm that had widened between you. His words were carefully chosen, an apology that carried the weight of remorse. He expressed a longing for resolution, a desire to face the consequences of his actions and rebuild what had been lost. “Can I come in?” he says hesitantly, trying to gauge your emotional state.

Reluctantly you nod, and step aside, allowing him into the house.

The weight of Joel's confession hung in the air. The room steeped in a heavy silence, and charged with the weight of unresolved emotions as you and Joel sat facing each other. The revelation of his infidelity with Veronica had unearthed a raw vulnerability. It had left your relationship hanging in the balance.You needed answers that transcended the initial betrayal. You both needed to confront the difficult question of where to go from here.

"Why, Joel?" you questioned, your voice steady but edged with a yearning for understanding. "I get that you were lost, but why did you keep cheating with her after the first time? Why not just admit it to me after it happened once?"

Joel's gaze met yours, his eyes carrying the weight of guilt. He took a moment before responding, as if grappling with his own internal turmoil.

"I didn't know how to face it," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "The shame, the guilt—it overwhelmed me. And every time it happened again, the weight of that guilt just grew. I was trapped in a cycle, and I couldn't find a way out."

Your brow furrowed, a mix of frustration and disbelief settling within you. "So, instead of admitting your mistake and trying to make amends, you kept it a secret and continued to betray our relationship?"

Joel nodded, the admission heavy on his conscience. "I thought if I could just stop, if I could find a way to break free from that cycle, I could spare you the pain of knowing. But each time, I failed. It became a vicious cycle I couldn't escape."

The room seemed to close in as the gravity of his words sank in. The cycle of betrayal, a web of lies and shame, had perpetuated itself, leaving both of you ensnared in the consequences.

"But why?" you pressed, your voice a mixture of frustration and sadness. "Why not face the consequences and be honest with me? We could have worked through it together, Joel."

His eyes reflected the internal struggle, a war between the truth and the self-imposed isolation he had subjected himself to. "I was scared. Scared of losing you, scared of facing disappointment. It was a selfish choice, and I see that now."

The admission hung in the air, a painful acknowledgment of the choices that had led to the fracture of trust. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a battlefield of emotions.

"So, you kept hurting me to protect yourself," you whispered, the weight of the realization settling on your shoulders.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on the floor, his silence confirming the painful truth. The unraveling of the secrets and the depths of his struggles became a sobering reality, and as you navigated the aftermath of betrayal, the room seemed to echo with the weight of unspoken regrets and the yearning for a path forward.

The room felt like a suffocating space, each revelation adding weight to the heavy air. Joel's admission of infidelity hung between you, a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. After a moment of tense silence, you found the strength to voice the truth that had been echoing in your heart.

After a moment, you gathered the courage to voice the question that lingered in the room like an unspoken specter. "What now, Joel? What does this mean for us?"

Joel looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of desperation and remorse. "I messed up. I know I can't change the past, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. If you're willing to give me another chance, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Your gaze met his, and for a moment, the memories of a time when love flowed effortlessly between you resurfaced. There had been a time when you looked into his eyes and couldn’t imagine a future, a universe, where you didn’t stare into them for eternity. The love you had for him was one like no other, the strongest you’d ever felt for someone, for something.

But now, those eyes hold the weight of betrayal, and the road ahead seems uncertain. You took a deep breath, searching for the right words to navigate the delicate conversation.

The sincerity in his voice tugged at the frayed edges of your heart, but the wounds were fresh, and the scars of betrayal ran deep. The room seemed to hold its breath, awaiting your response.

"I can't, Joel," you said, your voice steady but laced with a profound sadness. "This-

It's too much. I can't see a way forward for us."

Joel's eyes pleaded with a mix of regret and desperation, but the gulf between you seemed insurmountable. "I messed up, I know I did, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right."

The sincerity in his voice clashed with the shattered trust, and you shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "No, Joel. It's not just about saying sorry or making things right. It's not just about the mistake," you began, your voice measured but carrying the depth of your emotions.

"It's about the trust we had, and that trust has been shattered. This is a betrayal that cuts deep, and I don't think we can come back from it."

His face fell, the weight of realization settling in. "We've been through so much together. Please, don't end us because of one mistake."

The room seemed to close in as you grappled with the heartbreaking decision. "It's not just one mistake, Joel. It's a pattern of choices that shattered the foundation of trust we had. I can't continue a relationship where I constantly question if I'll be cheated on again.”

Joel's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and his voice wavered with a mix of remorse and desperation. "I'll change, I'll do anything to make this right. Just give me a chance."

But the echoes of his pleas couldn't drown out the resolute decision forming in your heart. "I'm sorry, Joel. It's best for both of us to move on. This is too much of a betrayal, and I need to prioritize my own well-being."

As you spoke those words, a heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuating the end of a chapter in your lives. The pain of parting, though agonizing, seemed to carry a semblance of closure. The room, once a space of shared dreams and memories, now bore witness to the painful conclusion of a relationship that had weathered too many storms.

He nodded, a somber acknowledgment of the consequences of his actions. "I know. I never meant to hurt you like this. If I could take it back, I would."

The air in the room hung heavy with the weight of a relationship on the precipice of its demise. Joel's desperate plea for forgiveness echoed in the silence, but the wounds were too fresh, and the trust too shattered to rebuild easily. You took a deep breath, a heaviness settling in your chest.

"Joel," you began, your voice steady but tinged with the pain of realization, "I appreciate your willingness to make amends, but the truth is, I can't see a way forward for us."

His eyes, once a source of comfort and love, now mirrored the anguish of a relationship slipping away. "I messed up, and I understand if you can't forgive me. But please, don't end us like this."

The sincerity in his voice tugged at the frayed edges of your heart, but you knew you couldn’t continue a relationship with him. You met his gaze, a mix of sadness and resolve in your eyes. "Joel, we had something special, something I cherished more than anything. But what we had is broken now. I can't ignore the betrayal, and I can't keep holding onto a past that's been tainted."

He reached for your hand, a desperate attempt to bridge the growing distance between you. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes, anything. I just can't imagine a future without you."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be transported back to a time when the future seemed boundless, and his gaze was a promise of forever. There was a time when you looked into his eyes and couldn't imagine a future where he wasn't a central part of it. But now, the love that had once felt unbreakable had shattered, leaving a void you weren't sure could be filled.

"I need to let go, Joel," you said, the weight of those words lingering in the room. "For my own sake, and for yours. We both need a chance to heal and find our own paths forward."

He nodded, a defeated acknowledgment of the reality you both faced. "I never thought we'd come to this," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret.

As the words settled, the room seemed to hold its breath. The love that had once been the anchor of your world now existed as a bittersweet memory. Joel, his gaze lowered, nodded with a heavy understanding.

"I won't forget what we had," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I'll always love you."

And with that, you uttered the finality that had been hanging between you. "Goodbye, Joel."

The door closed behind him, marking the end of a chapter that had once been a love story. The room, once a sanctuary for shared dreams, now bore witness to the closing of a door that could no longer be left ajar. In the aftermath of goodbye, the echoes of a love that once lingered, a poignant reminder of the fragility of connection and the resilience required to forge a new path forward.

tag list: @pertinentpostmortem @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @bastardmandennis @catchallfangirl @chaotic-mystery @beskarandblasters @amanitacowboy @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @pedrodascal @sweetercalypso @ilovepedro @cool-iguana @pascalpvnk @alwaysmicado @lovers-liability @futuraa-free @morgaussy @pedritoferg @spookykoolkat @wethairjoel @chronically-ghosted @buckyispunk @pattwtf @morning-star-joy @elvinaa @tinycozycomfort @magpiepills @pr0ximamidnight @joelscurls @janaispunk @5oh5 @farmerlarrry @maximoff-forevermore @atinylittlepain @joeldjarin @spookyxsam @honey-dip-24 @hiroikegawa @mcira @mrsmando @hyzer34 @limerence4u @sin-djarin @reddedmiller @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller fic

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mtkay13 · 8 months

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And yet.... another..... Face reveal illustration.

And of course, another long post, LOL.

More thoughts on the passage below!

This illustration is born from a hyperfocus of mine on this sentence:

Ah-Xu... [...] Did... did I tell you that I like men?"

他忽然发现，其实对方一辈子都不将那易容卸下来，在自己心里，也从来就应该是这样一副模样，如今看到他长得竟如自己想象中的感觉别无二致，就像是……已经认识了他很久很久一样。 [Wen Kexing] suddenly realized that, should [Zhou Zishu] have kept the mask on forever, this was the face he'd have pictured in his heart. Now, seeing this face that exactly matched the one he had pictured, it simply felt like.... meeting again with someone he'd known for a very, very long time.

This, to me, feels like the comforting familiarity of knowing, of understanding a friend, feeling at ease despite the years, the distance; the feeling of meeting a friend IRL for the first time despite knowing them for years, and yet everything clicks--

To me, the beauty in this passage is in how the mask... never really did anything, change anything. Wen Kexing became friends with the person behind the mask, felt this deep connection for this man regardless of what he could look like, and seeing him, now, his face revealed, is that comfort of, yes--I recognize you. It's you.

What I really enjoy in TYK is Wenzhou's companionship, the way they understand each other so profoundly, and their friendship. The fact that they liked each other as people first, that they connected so well despite the odds. This connection between them makes a lot of the feelings mutual, and I feel like this sentence above, part of it is felt by Zhou Zishu as well; and removing his mask, although it is for practical reasons within the context of the story, showing his face to Wen Kexing is a way to affirm trust, both ways. I trust you with my own face, but you can also trust me--because I show you, I welcome you in. This passage... almost feels like a greeting. "Hello again, friend." except they've been tagging along for a while, now.

I used to wonder if Zhou Zishu was nervous about Wen Kexing seeing his face, as I do think he's a bit self-conscious about his frail body and struggles to understand Wen Kexing's big declaration of attraction to him--sort of like, "will he still like me, what will he think of my face?". I don't really stand by that anymore, because my understanding of ZZS has changed since then. It really feels more like, it's fine, we know each other, we're friends anyway now whether I like it or not. I wonder, is he a bit happy that he gets to greet WKX with his real face? He mentions having counted on keeping his mask until he dies, but... ? It's pretty obvious that at this point in the story, ZZS is already deeply fond of WKX, so I can't help but feel like he is happy, deep down, that he gets to make that connection.

For WKX, it must be comforting, but also quite bittersweet. His appreciation, his growing love for ZZS, only comforted by this familiarity, this acknowledgement of companionship, of ease together, while he is so deeply aware that ZZS is condemned... I feel like at this moment, he must want to hug him, to keep him close, and think, I wish I could have him longer, I wish he could stay; for he's the only friend he's ever had, for he never connected with someone like that before.

Now to adress the elephant in the room and jump onto the next topic, I keep saying "friend", "companion". Needless to say that I am well aware that wenzhou have a romantic+ bond, but I just feel like this part highlights this aspect of their relationship that I profoundly cherish. And thus we reach WKX's very famous line:

It's hilarious, perfectly timed, but I especially love how I feel like, rather than highlighting how gorgeous or attractive ZZS could be, this is yet another way for WKX to lighten his own mood, to detach himself from the deeper feelings, the longing, the fondess, the comfort--given how untimely this all is. It hurts, to feel attached to ZZS as a person, because he's going to die soon, while joking about fucking and being gay always works, and it has the benefit to make ZZS flustered.

So yeah, point is, I'm obsessed with that scene.

Also, obligatory reference to the past versions, which I noticed make sort of a nice movement? haha.

I'm not really standing by the first one anymore, but it works in that context!

#wenzhou #tian ya ke #zhou zishu #tyk #wen kexing #wkx #zzs #meta

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callsigns-haze · 2 months

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Hangman and Haze: the reunite

part two of two.. (one)

Summary: In the quiet of the night, Y/N finds herself confiding in Bradley about the reasons behind her sudden departure from Jake before her deployment to Poland. As they share moments of vulnerability and reflection, Y/N grapples with the choices she's made and the uncertainty of her future, while Bradley offers unwavering support and understanding. Amidst the lingering echoes of their past, they find solace in the simple act of being present for each other, forging a bond that transcends time and distance.

Warnings: This chapter contains themes of emotional turmoil, past regrets, and unresolved feelings. Reader discretion is advised for those sensitive to discussions of relationship complications and separation anxiety.

As Y/N stirred awake to the sound of Jack's cries, the morning sunlight filtering through the curtains cast a soft glow in the room. With a sigh, she rose from the makeshift bed on Bradley's couch, her body still heavy with sleep.

Hurrying to Jack's side, Y/N scooped him up into her arms, soothing him with whispered reassurances. But as she began to change his diaper, she couldn't help but marvel at how quickly he was growing, each milestone a bittersweet reminder of the passage of time.

With gentle hands, Y/N cleaned Jack up, the warmth of his tiny body pressed against hers filling her with a sense of purpose and contentment. And as she held him close, she couldn't help but feel grateful for these simple moments of motherhood, for the chance to watch him grow and thrive with each passing day.

As Y/N tended to Jack's needs, she couldn't shake the feeling of exhaustion that clung to her like a heavy blanket. The night had been restless, filled with fragmented dreams and unresolved thoughts that lingered at the edges of her mind.

But as she looked down at Jack's cherubic face, his eyes still heavy with sleep, she felt a surge of love and determination wash over her. No matter how tired she was, no matter the challenges they faced, she would do whatever it took to ensure Jack's happiness and well-being.

With practiced ease, Y/N changed Jack's diaper and dressed him in fresh clothes, his cries gradually subsiding as he snuggled close to her chest. And as she rocked him gently back to sleep, the weight of the world seemed to lift from her shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and purpose that filled her with renewed hope for the future.

As Y/N finished settling Jack, she heard the creak of footsteps descending the stairs. Turning, she found Bradley standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and warmth.

"Morning," he greeted softly, a small smile playing on his lips. "How's Jack doing?"

Y/N returned the smile, grateful for Bradley's presence. "He's finally back asleep," she replied, her voice a whisper so as not to disturb the peaceful scene.

Bradley nodded, his gaze lingering on Y/N and Jack with a sense of quiet admiration. "You're doing a great job, Y/N," he said earnestly, his words carrying a depth of understanding that touched her heart.

A sense of gratitude washed over Y/N as she met Bradley's gaze, her own eyes shining with unshed tears. In that moment, she realized just how much his unwavering support meant to her, how it had helped her find the strength to face each new day with courage and resilience.

"Thank you, Bradley," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "For everything."

Bradley stepped forward, enveloping Y/N in a warm hug that spoke volumes of the bond they shared. "Anytime, Y/N," he murmured against her hair, his embrace a silent promise of solidarity and friendship.

And as they stood together in the quiet of the morning, surrounded by the soft glow of dawn, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected blessing of Bradley's presence in her life, and the hope it brought for the journey ahead.

As Bradley busied himself with the coffee machine, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the kitchen, Y/N hesitated for a moment before finally gathering the courage to speak.

"Bradley," she began, her voice tentative, "do you think you could watch over Jack today? I... I need to take care of something."

Bradley turned to look at her, his brow furrowing with concern. "Of course, Y/N," he replied, his voice gentle. "But... where are you going?"

Y/N met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. "I... I'm going to see Jake," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bradley's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Are you sure about this, Y/N?" he asked quietly, his concern evident.

Y/N nodded, a sense of determination settling over her. "I need to talk to him, Bradley," she said firmly. "I need to... to make things right."

Bradley placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his gaze unwavering. "I'll take care of Jack," he promised, his voice steady. "You go and do what you need to do. I'll be here when you get back."

With a grateful smile, Y/N nodded, a sense of purpose driving her forward. She knew that facing Jake wouldn't be easy, that there were still so many unanswered questions between them. But she also knew that she couldn't keep running from the truth, from the feelings that lingered in the depths of her heart.

As she gathered her resolve and prepared to face the uncertain future that lay ahead, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope ignite within her. Maybe, just maybe, today would be the day that they finally found the courage to confront their past and embrace the possibility of a new beginning. And with Bradley's support guiding her every step of the way, she knew that she was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

With a deep breath, Y/N nodded in appreciation at Bradley's support, feeling a mix of nervousness and determination coursing through her veins. As she prepared to embark on this emotional journey, she knew that it wouldn't be easy, but she also understood that it was necessary for her own peace of mind and for the sake of Jack.

As she grabbed her keys and headed towards the door, Bradley's reassuring words echoed in her mind, giving her the strength she needed to take this next step. With each passing moment, her resolve solidified, and she found herself ready to face whatever awaited her on the other side of this door.

With a final glance back at Bradley, who offered her an encouraging smile, Y/N stepped out into the morning sunlight, her heart heavy with anticipation, yet buoyed by the hope of reconciliation and closure.

As she drove towards Jake's location, her mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, but amidst the uncertainty, one thing remained clear: she was determined to confront the past, to seek understanding, and to pave the way for a brighter future, not just for herself, but for her son as well.

With each passing mile, Y/N drew closer to the moment of truth, her heart pounding in her chest with a mixture of apprehension and hope. And as she finally arrived at her destination, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation that lay ahead, knowing that whatever happened next, she was ready to face it head-on.

Stepping out of the car, Y/N found herself face to face with the familiar sight of Top Gun, a place that held so many memories, both good and bad. The air crackled with anticipation as she made her way towards the entrance, her footsteps echoing in the quiet morning.

With each step, her resolve hardened, fueled by the need for closure and the hope of finding a way forward. As she reached the door, she took a moment to steady herself, drawing strength from the love she felt for Jack and the determination to create a better future for them both.

With a deep breath, Y/N pushed open the door and entered Top Gun, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared to face the ghosts of her past. Whatever lay ahead, she knew that she was ready to confront it head-on, armed with the knowledge that she wasn't alone, that Bradley and Jack were with her every step of the way.

As she stepped into the familiar halls of Top Gun, Y/N felt a sense of purpose wash over her, driving her forward towards the unknown. And as she began her search for Jake, her mind focused and her heart steady, she knew that no matter what happened next, she was ready to embrace the challenges and possibilities of the journey ahead.

As Y/N walked through the halls of Top Gun, the air seemed to hum with recognition as her title of Captain "Haze" echoed through the corridors. Faces turned towards her, some with surprise, others with a nod of acknowledgment, each one a reminder of the life she had left behind.

Despite the year that had passed, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging as she made her way through the familiar surroundings. The memories of her time at Top Gun flooded back, a mix of triumphs and challenges that had shaped her into the person she was today.

As she continued her journey down the halls, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of nostalgia that washed over her, mingled with a sense of determination to confront the past and find closure. And with each step she took, she felt a renewed sense of purpose, ready to face whatever lay ahead with courage and resolve.

As Y/N ventured deeper into Top Gun, the memories of her time there flooded back with each familiar sight and sound. She couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with apprehension as she searched for Jake, her heart racing with the weight of unresolved emotions.

Finally, she spotted him across the room, his back turned as he spoke with a fellow pilot. With a steadying breath, Y/N approached him, her footsteps echoing in the silence of the room.

"Jake," she called out softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

He turned to face her, his expression a mix of surprise and guarded curiosity. "Y/N," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of emotion.

In that moment, as their eyes met, Y/N felt a rush of emotions flood her senses. Memories of their time together, both the joy and the pain, washed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm her resolve.

But as she stood before him, her heart laid bare, she knew that she couldn't turn back now. Whatever happened next, she was ready to face it, to finally confront the truth and find a way forward, for herself, for Jake, and for their son.

With a steady gaze, Y/N took a step closer, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared to speak the words that had been weighing on her mind for far too long. And as she looked into Jake's eyes, she knew that no matter what the future held, she was ready to embrace it with courage and determination.

As Y/N approached Jake, her heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and determination, she barely had time to speak before he grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room. She stumbled along beside him, taken aback by his sudden actions and the intensity in his eyes.

Once they were alone in the hallway, Jake turned to face her, his expression a tumultuous mix of disbelief, anger, and raw emotion. "Y/N," he breathed, his voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and frustration. "What are you doing here? Why did you leave? Why did you come back?"

Y/N met his gaze, her own eyes filled with regret and longing. "Jake, please," she began, her voice choked with emotion. "I know I made a mistake, leaving like I did. But I had to..."

But before she could finish, Jake cut her off, his voice rising with frustration. "You had to what, Y/N? Break my heart? Leave me wondering what I did wrong? Leave me to pick up the pieces while you ran off to god knows where?"

Y/N felt her throat tighten with emotion as she reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away, his anger palpable in the tense silence that hung between them. "I'm sorry, Jake," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of their emotions. "I never meant to hurt you."

Jake's expression softened slightly at her words, but the pain in his eyes remained. "Why did you come back, Y/N?" he asked quietly, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

Y/N took a shaky breath, gathering her courage as she met his gaze. "Because I realized that running away wasn't the answer," she admitted, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. "Because I couldn't bear the thought of living without you, without us."

As the weight of her words settled over them, Y/N held her breath, waiting for Jake's response, uncertain of what the future held but determined to face it together, whatever it may bring.

Jake's eyes softened, a whirlwind of emotions flickering across his face as he processed Y/N's words. For a moment, they stood in the hallway, caught in a silent exchange of longing and regret, their hearts laid bare before each other.

"I never stopped loving you, Y/N," Jake finally confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Even when you left, even when I thought I'd never see you again, a part of me still held on to the hope that someday you'd come back."

Y/N's heart swelled with emotion at his words, her own eyes brimming with tears. "I'm here now, Jake," she replied softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I know I can't undo the past, but I want to try to make things right, to find a way forward together."

A heavy silence fell between them, thick with the weight of their shared history and the uncertainty of the future. But as they stood there, their eyes locked in a silent conversation, Y/N felt a glimmer of hope ignite within her heart.

And in that moment, amidst the chaos of their emotions and the echoes of their past, Y/N knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, she was ready to face them with Jake by her side, their love stronger than ever before.

As the tension between them reached its peak, Jake leaned forward, closing the distance between them in a passionate kiss. Y/N's heart raced as she felt his lips meet hers, a surge of longing and desire coursing through her veins.

Without hesitation, she responded to his kiss, her lips meeting his with a fervor born of years of longing and regret. In that moment, all the pain and uncertainty melted away, leaving only the raw intensity of their shared connection.

Their kiss deepened, each touch igniting a fire that burned brightly between them. It was as if time stood still, the world fading away until there was nothing but the electric current that pulsed between them.

And as they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed with emotion, Y/N felt a sense of clarity wash over her. In Jake's arms, she found the home she had been searching for, the missing piece of her heart that she thought she had lost forever.

With tears of joy in her eyes, Y/N whispered against his lips, "I love you, Jake. I never stopped loving you."

And as Jake held her close, his own emotions mirroring hers, Y/N knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, bound by a love that was stronger than any obstacle they could ever encounter.

-----

As Y/N sat at the hard deck lost in her thoughts, her attention was suddenly drawn to the heartwarming scene unfolding before her. There, amidst the camaraderie of the Dagger Squad, was Jake, bouncing little Jack on his knees with a playful grin.

Her heart swelled with a mixture of emotions as she watched her son giggling and babbling, completely enthralled by the attention he was receiving. The sight of Jake, once so distant and guarded, now engaging so effortlessly with their son filled Y/N with a sense of bittersweet nostalgia.

The members of the Dagger Squad surrounded them, their voices soft with affection as they explained the basics of their favorite game, the pool table, to the curious little boy. Each interaction was filled with laughter and warmth, creating a sense of belonging that Y/N hadn't realized she craved until now.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Y/N drank in the sight of Jake and Jack, their bond palpable even from a distance. Despite the challenges they had faced and the uncertainty of their future, there was a flicker of hope within Y/N's heart, a belief that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to forge a new beginning together, as a family.

Y/N watched from a distance, Jake's eyes lit up with joy as he continued to interact with little Jack. With each bounce on his knee, Jake's laughter mingled with Jack's infectious giggles, creating a symphony of happiness that filled the room.

Beneath Jake's tough exterior, Y/N could see a tender warmth emerging as he made funny faces and playful gestures, eliciting delighted squeals from their son. It was a side of Jake she hadn't seen before, a glimpse into the depth of his love and affection for their child.

As Jack reached out chubby arms toward Jake, the members of the Dagger Squad chuckled fondly, encouraging the bond between father and son. Jake's smile widened as he gently lifted Jack into his arms, cradling him close with a protective tenderness that touched Y/N's heart.

In that moment, surrounded by the laughter and love of their makeshift family, Y/N felt a sense of gratitude wash over her. Despite the challenges they faced and the mistakes of the past, here was a chance for Jake to be the father he had always wanted to be, and for Jack to grow up surrounded by the unwavering support of those who cared for him.

As Jake peppered little Jack with kisses and whispered words of love, Y/N couldn't help but feel hopeful for the future, for the possibility of healing old wounds and forging new connections. And as she watched the father and son bond deepen before her eyes, she knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, as a family.

As the moments passed, Jake's interactions with Jack became increasingly tender and heartwarming. With each playful tickle and gentle cuddle, he seemed to melt into the role of fatherhood, embracing it with a warmth and affection that took Y/N's breath away.

Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the sight before her, the once stoic and reserved Jake now transformed into a doting father, his eyes alight with love and pride as he looked down at their son. It was as if a new chapter had begun for them, one filled with the promise of love, laughter, and endless possibilities.

As Jack babbled excitedly in response to Jake's playful antics, the members of the Dagger Squad exchanged knowing glances, their expressions soft with fondness and admiration. It was clear that Jake had won their hearts as well, his love for his son shining through in every gesture and smile.

And as Y/N watched the scene unfold, a sense of peace settled over her, the doubts and fears of the past giving way to a newfound sense of hope and optimism. In Jake's arms, their son was safe and loved, surrounded by a family that would always be there to support him, no matter what.

With a smile tugging at her lips, Y/N knew that their journey was just beginning, filled with the promise of love, laughter, and countless cherished moments shared as a family. And as she stepped forward to join them, her heart overflowing with love, she knew that together, they could weather any storm that came their way.

As Jake caught Y/N's gaze lingering on him and Jack, a playful smirk danced across his lips. With Jack tugging at her hair, he approached her with a gentle chuckle, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

"I caught you staring," Jake teased, his voice filled with affection as he reached out to ruffle Jack's hair.

Y/N's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn't help but smile at Jake's playful demeanor. "Guilty as charged," she admitted with a sheepish grin, reaching out to gently tickle Jack's chubby cheek.

As Jack giggled in response, Jake wrapped an arm around Y/N's shoulders, pulling her close with a tender squeeze. "You know," he murmured softly, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine, "I could get used to having you stare at us like that."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, the warmth of his touch sending a wave of longing coursing through her veins. In that moment, surrounded by the laughter and love of their little family, she knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

As Jake's arm enveloped her in a comforting embrace, Y/N felt a rush of emotions flood her senses. The familiar warmth of his touch sent a wave of nostalgia washing over her, reminding her of the deep connection they shared.

"I could get used to it too," Y/N confessed softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned into Jake's embrace. "Being here with you and Jack, it feels like... like coming home."

Jake's gaze softened at her words, a tender smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You are home, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "With us, you're always home."

In that moment, as Jack continued to play with Y/N's hair, their bond as a family felt stronger than ever before. Despite the challenges they had faced and the uncertainties that lay ahead, they knew that as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, surrounded by the love and laughter of their little family, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over her. For in Jake's embrace, she had found her anchor, her safe haven in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.

Lost in the moment, Y/N allowed herself to be swept away by the warmth and tenderness of Jake's embrace. With Jack's playful tugs at her hair and Jake's steady presence by her side, she felt a sense of completeness wash over her, as if every piece of her heart had finally found its place.

As they stood together, enveloped in a cocoon of love and laughter, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of their little family. Despite the trials and tribulations they had faced, they had emerged stronger and more resilient than ever before, united by a bond that transcended time and space.

With a contented sigh, Y/N leaned her head against Jake's shoulder, her heart overflowing with gratitude and love. In that moment, surrounded by the ones she held most dear, she knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

And as they basked in the warmth of their love, Y/N silently vowed to cherish every moment, to hold onto this feeling of belonging with all her might. For in Jake's arms, she had found her home, her sanctuary in a world filled with uncertainty.

As Y/N reflected on the events of the day, she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the depth of emotion that had washed over her. From the unexpected reunion with Jake to the heartwarming moments shared with their son, it had been a day filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a brighter future.

In Jake's embrace, Y/N had found a sense of belonging she had longed for, a reminder that no matter where life took her, she would always have a place to call home. Their journey together had been far from easy, marked by moments of heartache and uncertainty, but in the end, it had led them back to each other, stronger and more resilient than ever before.

As the sun began to set on another day, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the blessings that surrounded her. In the arms of her loved ones, she had found solace, strength, and unwavering support, guiding her through even the darkest of times.

With a smile on her lips and a heart full of love, Y/N looked towards the horizon, ready to face whatever challenges the future held. For in the end, she knew that as long as she had Jake and their son by her side, she would always find her way home.

ewwwwwwwww me and happy endings 🤣

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