#Roots as in finding his place with these people

[stylesispunk]

"Unholy christmas" day 3/3

outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After spending months wandering outside in the wild, you and Joel find safety inside the gates of Jackson just around christmas. A confession and a kiss lead to other things and you wake up wrapped around each other's arms.

wc: 4,5k

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut and no proofreading at all, sorry my head hurts.

a/n: welcome to the third and last day of my joel's fic christmas version event. This one didn't turn out as i planned but is still cute. (my personal favorite was merry christmas, please call me) thank you so much for being here and reading and I wish you all a merry christmas, i hope you all have a beautiful night either if you spend your night with other people or alone. happy reading and merry christmas 💌♥️🌲

You couldn’t believe your eyes the first time you stepped inside Jackson. How the gates creaked open, or how the snow crunched beneath your boots as you and Joel made your way. A town in the middle of the hell you had faced felt almost surreal. After months of wandering through the wilderness, living on edge, Jackson felt like stepping into a dream, all decorated and bathed in warm lights, strings of Christmas decorations you thought you would never see again.

As you made your way inside, Joel glanced at you, his rugged features softening for just a moment when he took a glimpse of your awe expression. Something inside his heart felt at peace for the first time in months.

He had put you through so much during this time. Dragging you through the danger and fighting just to kept you both alive, and doing terrible things just for him to allow you to see another sunrise. He didn’t regret the things he had done for keeping you safe, not for an instant, but when the weight of it all bore down on him. When you were sleeping clung to him at night and he’d lie awake, watching the firelight flicker against your face, wondering if you would be better off without him.

But what would it be of him without you?

Your existence overwhelmed him. In a way his heart would stop beating the second your gaze locked with his. In a way his breath caught up his throat when you held his hand or simple touch him when sleeping.

It terrified him how much you had become a part of him, how much he depended on the sound of your voice to lighten the weight on his shoulders, or how your simple presence was enough to silence the worst of his thoughts. His chest ached whenever your gaze locked with his, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

He felt alive and vulnerable all at once, and it scared him. But what scared him more was the idea of losing you.

Without you, the hollow emptiness he had spent years suppressing would swallow him whole. He had fought so hard to keep you alive since you gave him something to fight for.

And now, looking at you smiling at the big Christmas tree in the middle of Jackson, he felt whole.

He stayed rooted in place for a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight of you. How could someone like him, a man who had done unspeakable things, deserve to stand by your side? But he couldn’t bring himself to pull away, not when you looked at the tree with the kind of joy he thought was lost forever.

“Joel?” Your voice broke his thoughts, soft and questioning as you turned to face him.

He cleared his throat and stepped closer, the snow crunching beneath his boots. “Yeah? You okay?”

You nodded, a small, wistful smile tugging at your lips. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I can’t remember the last time I saw a Christmas tree.”

Joel’s gaze flicked to the tree for a moment before settling back on you. “Yeah, it is.”

Joel opened his mouth to say more, but the sound of approaching footsteps on the snow made him pause, breaking the moment between the both of you. You both turned to see Tommy and Maria approaching, their faces lit with warm smiles.

“There you two are,” Tommy said, his tone teasing. “Figured we’d find you here.”

Maria stepped forward, her eyes flicking between you and Joel. “We’re heading over to the hall for dinner. Thought you might want to join us.”

You blinked in surprise, glancing at Joel before looking back at Maria. “Dinner?”

“Yeah,” Maria said with a nod, her smile widening. “The community does it every year around Christmas. Everyone pitches in—food, music, decorations. It’s a nice way to celebrate together.”

Joel shifted beside you, his hands tucked deep in his jacket pockets. He glanced at you, silently asking what you wanted to do.

“That sounds… nice,” you said after a moment, the idea of a communal dinner feeling strangely foreign after so long on the road. “We’d love to join.”

Tommy clapped Joel on the back. “See? Told you it’d be good for both of you to settle in a little.”

Joel grunted something under his breath, but his gaze softened as it lingered on you. “All right,” he said. “Lead the way.”

The walk to the community hall was short, the warm glow of lights spilling out through the windows guiding your way. Inside, the hall was alive with the buzz of conversation, the smell of roasted food, and the soft strum of a guitar from one corner.

As you followed Tommy and Maria to the community hall, the air around you felt festive, filled with laughter and the warm glow of lanterns strung along the path. The hall itself was bustling with life, long tables set up with trays of food and steaming mugs of cider. People greeted each other warmly, their voices blending into a symphony of holiday cheer.

You and Joel stepped inside, your eyes taking in the scene. For a moment, it was overwhelming—the sheer normalcy of it all after so many months of survival.

Maria nudged your arm gently, pulling you from your thoughts. “Grab some food and find a spot,” she said with a smile. “Tommy and I will join you in a bit.”

You nodded, glancing at Joel, but he was already being pulled away by Tommy, who had clasped a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward a group of familiar faces.

“I’ll catch up with you,” Joel muttered, throwing you a quick glance before disappearing into the crowd.

You made your way to the serving table, piling a plate with roasted vegetables and slices of bread before settling at a spot near the corner of the hall. From there, you could see Joel easily.

At first, it was endearing to watch him interact with Tommy. It reminded you of how hard he had fought to came here in order to be reunited with him all over again. And it was endearing, the sight of him, relaxed, the rare ghost of a smile playing on his lips. But as the minutes passed, your gaze lingered longer, drawn to the way people seemed to gravitate toward him.

Women. several of them.

They approached him with bright smiles displaying on their lips. Some were close to his age, others younger, their faces lighting up as they introduced themselves or leaned into a conversation with him. Joel, ever the gentleman he was, nodded politely, his deep voice lost in the noise of the room.

You knew Joel wasn’t the type to encourage attention, but the sight of him surrounded by all these women, some of whom placed a hand on his arm or laughed a little too loudly at something he said, sent a nagging feeling creeping into your chest.

You had never had felt the feeling of sharing before, it has always been you and him.

Until now.

You tried to focus on your food, but your appetite had vanished. The hall, went from feeling warm and inviting, to feeling suffocating. You told yourself it was nothing, that Joel was just being polite, but the tightness in your chest didn’t ease.

And you felt alone as if you were a burden Joel had to carry with him because he didn’t have the heart to left you behind.

Your gaze dropped to the table, your fingers toying with the edge of your plate, but what did you expect? Joel had done so much for you, had carried you through hell, he had brought you to a safe place where you would be able to live a life again.

The nagging feeling twisted into something sharper, something you didn’t want to name. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but your eyes drifted back to Joel, now leaning slightly as another woman spoke to him, her hand lingering just a second too long on his forearm.

You set your plate down, your appetite gone completely. For the first time since arriving in Jackson, you felt an urge to leave, to escape somewhere else.

The sight of Joel, so effortlessly blending in and laughing softly at something Tommy said, nodding politely as the women around him vied for his attention, made you feel like an outsider looking in.

And then it happened.

Joel’s gaze found yours across the room. His expression softened, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was the kind of smile you rarely saw from him, one that seemed reserved just for you.

For a fleeting moment, the world quieted, the knot in your stomach loosening ever so slightly. But as your eyes scanned the room, taking in the familiarity shared between the townsfolks you felt it again. That foreignness. Like no matter how hard you tried, you’d never quite belong here.

Joel might. He was already starting to, even if he didn’t realize it yet. The way people looked at him, sought his attention, told you he could find a place here, a life.

But you? You weren’t so sure.

The thought settled heavily in your chest, and before you could overthink it, you pushed your chair back and stood.

You didn’t look back as you walked out of the hall, the cold night air biting at your skin as soon as you stepped outside. The muffled sounds of laughter and conversation followed you briefly before fading as the door swung shut behind you.

The town was quiet, the snow under your boots crunching softly as you wandered aimlessly. The lights strung along the houses glowed warmly, but they only deepened the ache in your chest.

You stopped at the edge of the main street, your breath visible in the cold air. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stared up at the sky, the stars barely visible against the glow of the town.

The crunch of snow beneath your boots was the only sound accompanying you as you wandered, drawn toward the faint glow of the Christmas tree in the center of town. It stood tall and proud, adorned with twinkling lights and ornaments that glittered like tiny stars.

As you reached it, you came to a stop, the cold biting through your coat, but you barely noticed. You gazed up at the tree, and a flood of memories washed over you, brief, fragmented flashes of a childhood long gone.

A living room dimly lit except for the glow of a tree like this one. Laughter, faint and warm, as presents were unwrapped. The scent of pine and the soft hum of a Christmas carol your mother used to hum under her breath.

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, a lump forming in your throat. That world felt like it belonged to another life, to someone else entirely. The woman standing here now, hardened by years of survival, couldn’t reconcile with the girl who once giggled over snow angels and stockings by the fireplace.

Joel stepped outside, the cold air biting at his skin as he scanned the bustling streets of Jackson. It wasn’t like him to let things go unsaid, especially not when it came to you. He’d noticed the way you pulled away, your silence heavier than usual. He could feel the weight of it, pulling at him, gnawing at him.

You inhaled deeply, your breath shaky as it clouded in the cold air. This was why you felt out of place here. Jackson was built on hope, on community, on remnants of a world you weren’t sure if you were going to fit into.

He’d watched you slip away from the warmth of the hall, your figure disappearing into the night. Without a second thought, he followed. He couldn’t let you disappear into the night like that, not when something was so clearly eating at you.

The snow crunched beneath his boots as he made his way toward the glow of the Christmas tree. The town was quieter now, the hum of conversation and laughter fading as he walked through the streets, searching for you.

He found you standing under the towering tree, your face lit by the soft, flickering lights. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, so small against the backdrop of the glowing tree, lost in thought. Your gaze was fixed on the ornaments, the lights reflecting in your eyes, and for a moment, he just watched you.

His chest tightened, and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. He couldn’t stand to see you like this, so distant, so detached from the world around you. It was like you were still trapped in the past, somewhere far away from here, far away from the safety of Jackson and everything it had to offer.

“Hey,” he finally called out, his voice low but steady.

The sound of Joel’s voice startled you, low and rough but unmistakable. You turned to find him standing a few feet away, his broad frame silhouetted against the glow of the Christmas lights. He was breathing hard, like he’d been searching for you.

“I wondered where you ran off to,” he said softly, his eyes scanning your face.

“I just needed some air,” you replied, your voice quiet.

He stepped closer, his boots crunching in the snow, until he was standing beside you. His gaze flicked to the tree for a moment before settling back on you.

He stepped closer, his boots crunching in the snow, until he was standing beside you. His gaze flicked to the tree for a moment before settling back on you. “Didn’t mean to leave you alone there”

“Don’t worry.” you said quickly, but even to your own ears, the words felt hollow.

Joel's brow furrowed slightly, sensing the distance in your voice. He could see it in your eyes, the same unease, the same weight that had been there all night. Something was pulling at you, and he could feel the space growing between you both, even as you stood so close.

“I know you don’t like crowds,” he said, his voice softer now, as if trying to tread carefully around your thoughts. "But you don't have to be alone, not here."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat refusing to go away. "I just... need to figure things out."

Joel turned his body to face you more fully, his expression open but intense. He wasn’t going to let you pull away from him, not now. He reached out, gently brushing his fingers along your arm, his touch warm against the chill of the evening.

"Hey," he said, his voice steady. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

His brow furrowed. “About what?”

You hesitated, glancing back at the tree. “About us. About how maybe it’s time for me to… move on. Find my own place here. I don’t want to be a burden to you anymore, Joel. You’ve done so much for me already-”

His jaw tightened, and before you could finish, he cut you off. “Stop.”

You blinked, startled by the firmness in his voice.

"I think it’s time we go our separate ways," you said softly.

Joel froze, the words slicing through the cold air. "What?"

You looked down, unable to meet his gaze. "I’ve been thinking about it for a while. You’ve done so much for me, Joel. You got me out of the QZ, kept me alive out there...but I know I’m just a burden. You don’t have to keep looking out for me. Tommy can find me another place."

He stared at you, stunned. "You think I’m tired of you?"

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Aren’t you?"

Joel closed the distance between you in two strides, his hands gripping your arms gently, but firmly enough to make you look at him. "No," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I ain’t tired of you. Not even close."

You blinked, caught off guard by the intensity in his tone. "Joel, I just don’t want you to feel like-"

"Like what?" he interrupted, his jaw tightening. "Like you’re something I have to put up with? You aren’t. You’re the one thing that makes this goddamn world a little easier to stand. Don’t you dare think I’d ever want you gone."

Your breath hitched, his words sinking in. The way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in his life, made your heart ache.

"Joel?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Why would you want me to stay? I don’t… I don’t bring anything to the table."

He exhaled sharply, his thumb brushing over your sleeve. "You bring more than you’ll ever know. You keep me sane, keep me fighting. You’re the only thing in my life that feels right."

The lights from the Christmas tree flickered behind you, casting soft patterns across his face as his voice softened. "I need you, baby. And if you ever think about leaving again, you tell me first. I’ll set you straight."

You let out a shaky laugh. "You really mean that?"

Joel’s lips twitched into a faint, crooked smile. "Damn right, I mean it."

Before you could overthink it, you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He held you close, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head.

Joel pulled back just enough to look down at you, his hands still resting on your arms. His eyes softened, a quiet intensity behind them that made your heart skip. The flickering glow of the Christmas lights reflected in his gaze, but it was the warmth in them that held you still.

He tilted his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "You’re not going anywhere."

Before you could reply, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours as if asking for permission at first, as if testing the waters. The world seemed to stand still as his hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb gently grazing your skin.

The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, carrying a quiet desperation that told you everything he couldn’t put into words. He was telling you that you were his world, that you were his, that he needed you as much as you needed him.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze lock with yours, his breath mingling with the cold night air. His voice was rough, almost a whisper. "You understand now? I don’t just want you here. I need you here. With me. We are a team."

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you smiled, your hands resting against his chest. "Okay, I promise I won’t go away from you.”

He closed his eyes briefly, relief washing over his face, before pressing another kiss to your forehead. Then, he went all over for your lips again, this time deeper, as if he wanted to imprint this moment on his heart forever. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, drawing you closer, while his other arm wrapped securely around your waist.

You melted into him, your fingers clutching his jacket as if to anchor yourself to the only steady thing in your chaotic world. The cold air nipped at your skin, but you barely noticed, lost in the warmth of his skin, of his presence, on the way his lips moved against yours, the way he held you like he never wanted to let go.

When the kiss broke, you both stayed close, breaths mingling in the frosty air. His thumb brushed your cheek, his gaze soft yet unreadable.

“Come on,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, “let’s get you back inside before you freeze.”

You nodded, but your hand found his, intertwining your fingers as he led you to the house. The walk was silent, but the tension between you was electric.

Inside the house, the fire burned the room dimly lit by the soft orange glow of the embers between the both of you. Joel shut the door behind you, his eyes lingering on you as you removed your coat. There was no space for words now, just the unspoken language that pull you back to him.

He crossed the room in two strides, his hands finding your waist, his lips meeting yours again with a quiet urgency. You let him guide you toward the bed, his touches careful, his gaze searching yours for permission every step of the way.

You gave it to him, silently, your hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips that almost felt like they burn, his breath hitched, but he didn’t stop, he couldn’t. Not when you were looking at him with those puppy eyes that made him feel like he was your biggest treasure.

That night, the world outside didn’t exist anymore. It was just you and Joel, tangled together beneath the blankets, your mingled warmth chasing away the cold. Every touch, every kiss, every whisper of his name felt like a promise you didn't dare break.

Later that night, the room was dim, only the crackling of the fire providing light. You could feel his breath on your skin, slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring the taste of you, every moment with you leaded to this and his hands moved with a gentleness that surprised you, as if he was treating you like something fragile, precious he has promised himself he would protect.

But there was nothing fragile about the way you felt. With him, there was strength, a connection that ran deeper than anything you could put into words. You felt it in the way he held you, in the way his body responded to yours. It was raw, but it was also tender, and that combination left you breathless.

You pulled him closer, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch. You wanted to show him how much he meant to you; how much you needed him in this moment.

Joel’s lips found yours again, but this time, the kiss was slower, more conscious. It was a silent plea, an exchange of everything you couldn’t say aloud. You didn’t need words. You had each other, and that was all that mattered.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in short, soft bursts. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and rough, a faint hint of concern threading through his words.

You nodded, your hands slipping into his hair, tugging him back down to you. “I’m more than okay,” you whispered, taking his lips on yours again.

But Joel’s voice broke the kiss as he pulled away slightly, his hands lingering on your hips before he stood, turning toward the small table in the corner of the room. “I, uh... I got you something for Christmas,” he said, his voice rougher than usual, but there was something softer behind it.

You blinked, surprised. Christmas hadn’t really felt like Christmas since the outbreak, and you hadn’t expected anything, certainly not from him. As he turned his back to you, his broad shoulders and his muscles in his bare back caught your attention. He was a picture of raw strength, but in that moment, you saw something else in him, vulnerability, tenderness, and a depth of care you hadn’t expected from the man who had carried so much loss during his life.

Your chest tightened as a strange, overwhelming sense of clarity washed over you. It was like everything had all led to this. To this moment, with him. You didn’t need anything else. You didn’t need a world full of certainty or things that made sense. With Joel, every simply made sense.

He reached for something on the table, a small wrapped box that was too carefully wrapped. His fingers lingered on the edges of the paper before he turned back toward you. His expression was unreadable, though there was a small, almost shy smile on his lips.

He stepped toward you, the firelight casting a warm glow on his face, illuminating the lines and scars on his temple. When he stopped in front of you, he held the gift out, his eyes meeting yours, softly “It ain’t much,” he muttered, “but I thought... I thought you deserved it. I got a while ago but since we’re here and we can celebrate Christmas again, I feel like I can give It to you.”

You took the small box from his hands, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your heart skipped a beat as you met his eyes, seeing the love in them, the thought behind his gesture. It was so simple, so genuine, that it took your breath away.

You slowly unwrapped the box, your hands trembling just slightly as the soft paper fell away. Inside was a delicate silver necklace, the pendant a small, simple heart with intricate engravings along its edges. It caught the firelight, glimmering softly, and something inside you fluttered as you held it in your palm.

Joel watched you, his gaze soft but intense. He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for your reaction. You could tell it meant something to him, something more than just the gift itself.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotions from flooding your voice. “Joel...” you whispered, your fingers tracing the edges of the pendant. “It’s beautiful.”

His face softened, the corners of his mouth curling into a quiet smile. “I saw it a while ago,” he said, his voice low, almost uncertain. “Thought you might like it. And... I didn’t know when the right time was, but I guess now felt right. This... this is for you to carry me with yoy everywhere you go.”

You felt the warmth of his words seep into you, settling in your chest as your heart pounded. This wasn’t just a piece of jewelry; it was a symbol of the quiet love he had for you, the love that had been building ever since you had met in the ruins of the world.

Your eyes lifted from the necklace to his, you cupped his jaw, feeling his breath catch as your lips met his again, soft at first, but deepening as the world around you seemed once more. It was just the two of you, lost in each other, breathing each other in.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your chest heaving with the emotions swirling inside you. “I didn’t get you anything,” you murmured, the guilt creeping into your voice.

Joel’s hand brushed through your hair; the soft gesture meant to comfort you. His eyes met yours, the warmth in them determined. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice low, steady. “You’re here. That’s all I need.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, but then he leaned in, his voice softer this time, laced with something tender. “But, uh... Can I call you love?”

His question caught you by surprise, but it also made your heart skip. The simple, honest sincerity in his eyes made your chest ache with affection.

“Love?” you echoed, testing the word in your lips. It felt strange and foreign, but in his presence, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

He nodded, his gaze earnest. “Yeah. If that’s alright. That would be a gift for me, for now” he clarified, smiling at you.

You felt the warmth of his words wrap around you, making your heart flutter with a mix of emotions. The sincerity in his eyes made the world feel smaller, like everything was finally making sense.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you gazed up at him. “You can call me love.”

A smile stretched across Joel's face, his eyes softening with joy. He leaned in again, this time his lips capturing yours with a tenderness that made everything feel right. The kiss was deep, filled with the promise yet to be written, and as you pulled away, your heart ached with a love that had been growing between you, unspoken, until now.

Joel gently guided you back onto the bed, his hands roaming over your body with a careful urgency. You felt his warmth radiating from his body as he settled beside you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. The room was silent except for the crackling of the fire, but in that silence, everything spoke.

You pressed your cheek to his chest, your hand splayed across the warmth of his skin, feeling his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. It was a beating you could now call yours, a melody that you caused.

“Merry Christmas to me, then, I guess,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection as he pulled you closer. His body felt like a shield, protecting you from everything that had ever threatened to tear you down.

You smiled, nestling into him even more, your own fingers tracing patterns along his skin. “Merry Christmas, baby.” you whispered back, feeling more alive, more complete than you had in years.

In the quiet darkness of the room, wrapped in his arms, with the world outside frozen in time, you knew this was where you were meant to be.

And that was enough. The world could wait. Tonight, it was just the two of you.

[loverafey]

you only feel it when it's lost  !   ex!rafe x reader.

          ⤿ synopsis : another year, another christmas, another fight. escaping your family, you decide to spend the christmas at your ex's house who's just as lonely as you.

          ꕀ warnings - angst, bittersweet, reader has a dysfunctional family, suggestive content in like one paragraph, they both are idiots. (if you get the reference of the title i'll kiss you) wc - 2k.

these days were supposed to be joyous, full of family reunions and shared laughs. that’s what people would normally assume to be the ideal day of christmas eve followed by the last days of the year, and you had assumed too.

it was easy for fights to break out in your household, one disagreement leading to another. whether it be between your parents or between you and your parents, it was as if they never took you seriously enough. a disappointment laying right in front of them, a mistake they mourned. the dinner table didn’t consist of your parents laughing happily while you’d decorate the christmas tree, talking about your friends, helping your siblings.

you couldn’t even remember how long it had been since you actually celebrated something with your family. or how long it had been since your mother woke you up with a kiss on your forehead and your father with a hug.

today was like any other, shouts and heavy silences lingering in the house altogether. you felt suffocated, too tired. your phone had been blank today, each of your friends busy celebrating with their own, resulting in no notifications. not that you wanted any, you’d rather be left alone. but why was being alone felt so ironically lonely?

perhaps, deep within you, you too wanted someone to hold you on this day. to soothe the ache in your heart that's been there for far too long.

there was only one person you could think of that would somehow be at home on this day. maybe not, but it didn’t hurt to try, even if it was a horribly stupid decision.

you had dated rafe for over four months, a rather impulsive relationship that had not only destroyed you but also the friendship that had been between you both way before the relationship. no wonder they said not to date your damn best friend. you wondered if it had destroyed him too. you couldn’t really blame him, not when you had a part to play in the relationship’s downfall too. neither of you both were saints, just too lonesome souls trying to find warmth within each other. which is precisely why your visits had never ceased after the break up, even if your friendship was long a pile of rubble. he was an angry person, so were you, in your own way. the very root cause of the pointless arguments that would rise every day.

sometimes he’d come over at your place, pissed off about work, wanting some relief, ending with you pressed against the mattress. sometimes you’d go over to him to feel something, anything, ending with his face always buried in between your legs, coaxing out cries you were desperate to let out. just like right now, your feet leading you to your car, the route to tannyhill ingrained into your brain.

it wasn’t long until you arrived at the mansion that was now owned by rafe, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you clutched the sweater around you tight, the night air as chill as ever. ringing the door bell, you could hear the muffled sounds of footsteps inside nearing closer until the door opened, revealing him — and fuck. he looked so cozy in that dark knitted sweater of his, clearly having just cut his hair recently since the last time you remembered, his buzz had grown a bit. you didn’t mind it though, nearly everything suited him annoyingly enough.

“hey, you okay…?” he breathed out, leaning against the door, brows knitting together as he took in the sight of your exhausted face and the very subtle sight of your fingers trembling, hidden by the way you were clutching your own sweater so tight.

“hi, yes…” you lied through your teeth, reaching within your purse to take out a small box that you’d made a few days ago, having spent the whole day contemplating whether to give it to him or not. “merry christmas.”

his eyes softened as he took the gift from your hand, untying the lace and opening it up, a bracelet made from strings resting inside, the blue matching the colour of his eyes. “is this some sort of appeasement?” he couldn’t help but grin, satisfied at the way you scoffed yet were unable to suppress a smile. shit, that smile — he’d do anything to make you smile even a little. just like the old days.

“nope.” you mumbled quietly, chewing on your bottom lip in a rather nervous manner as he stepped inside to let you in, the warmth of his house comforting. “i didn’t want to spend these days at home. can i stay here, at least for the night?”

bad idea, but who was rafe to refuse? he had no one to spend these days with anyways. sarah was with the pogues. wheezie was gone for the week with their grandparents while rafe had refused the offer with an excuse to finish all his work. the truth was, he didn’t have the energy within him to pretend that everything was jolly.

“of course, baby.” it was so easy for that nickname to slip every now and then, as if his tongue was made just to speak that.

he led you into his living room, no decorations in sight, just the same old. it was almost comforting. you sat down on the couch, rafe a bit far from you, the silence heavy. it wasn’t the usual comforting silence you’d sought out with him, no. right now, it felt as if you both wanted to speak of something, but couldn’t. your fingers were curled up into wrists, resting on your knees as you stared down at the floor, mindlessly analysing the texture. your eyes slowly drifted over to his shoes, and sneakily upwards to his hands, and then face, eyes thankfully not on you.

he’d been sitting this far from you on the night of your break up too. on this very couch.

the thought made you want to laugh bitterly, but all you could feel was the heavy lump forming in your throat like hands choking you. it hurt.

“any plans for the new year…?” rafe cleared his throat, hesitantly looking over you, only to find you looking back at him. his jaw clenched, hating feeling so vulnerable, so weak in front of your eyes. the same eyes that’d glimmer at the sight of him. he could have sworn they still glimmered. his angel, coming to his house every now and then with a scythe to reap his soul, which he’d offer so gratefully. his soul and heart had been yours from the start anyways, it didn’t matter, did it?

“no…” you swallowed, shaking your head. you?”

“nah.”

“wheezie’s away?”

“yeah, with grandparents.”

“what about topper?”

“just texted him, and kelce. didn’t wanna meet any of them.”

“oh…���

it was awkward, again, though you could hear the slight shuffle ringing in the air as he scooted near you, hands awkwardly tapping at his knees, as if restless. he couldn’t help but look down at the bracelet you’d made him, still in the box. his fingers reached out, unsure, grabbing the strings and wearing them around his wrist.

“it’s nice.” he said, earning a hum from you.

“we could watch a movie, y’know. a christmas movie.” his tone held some amusement, already grabbing the remote to turn the television on to scroll through all the influx of sappy christmas movies, most of them similar to one another.

“didn’t know you enjoyed those movies, rafe.” you feigned ignorance. both of you would spend the nights watching cheesy stuff together after all, it wasn’t easy to forget about that. you don’t think you ever will.

clicking onto some random movie, rafe tossed the remote aside and leaned back into the couch, watching from the corner of his eye at you doing the same. a soft melody played in the movie as the opening credits were displayed on the screen, though he couldn’t bring himself to watch the movie. he’d noticed how sad you looked today, hair messier than usual, lips chapped. he didn’t even need to ask what happened, he was well aware of how your family could be like.

rafe had tried to hold himself ever since you stepped in here tonight, but he couldn’t anymore. you needed this, didn’t you? the same warmth you’d always craved. one arm slowly wrapped around your back, pulling you closer. when he felt your body relaxing and leaning into his, he took this as a cue to wrap his other arm around your front, letting you fully curl up into him, knees pulling up to hug against your chest.

“what’s goin' on in that pretty head, baby?” he whispered, voice hoarser than before as the hand resting on your back reached up to gently caress the back of your head tenderly, with the same love he always held for you. shaking your head, not wanting to talk, you simply leaned over to rest your head against his shoulder, trying to hide the way your breathing got heavier with emotion, as if you’d break down any second.

“shut up…” you weakly spoke, closing your eyes and simply letting yourself feel the way his fingers raked through your way. you always liked the way he touched you, it made you feel so alive, real. “just hold me, rafey…” you, too, hated being vulnerable in front of him. though the world was against you both at the moment.

“do you miss me…?” you asked on impulse, peeking up from his head to look at him, eyes filled with unshed tears. his heart clenched at the sight of you, and he knew that he should deny so you both could move on and just forget.

“yes, i do. every day.” he sighed, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“me too.”

he sighed tiredly in acknowledgement, his heart feeling so empty yet so full, void yet on the verge of bursting at the same time. “i know, baby. i know.” he smiled softly, holding you tighter. you weren’t watching the movie anymore, content on nuzzling your head against his neck so you could feel his pulse, inhaling his familiar scent.

“want me to go over and make some coffee for us?”

“not yet.” you grumbled, not wanting to let him go so soon. what if he were to never come back and this all was nothing but some sick dream?

“fine.” he chuckled softly, shifting on the couch so now you were fully resting against him, legs hooked around his waist, clung onto him. he rested his chin on top of your head, gently rocking you back and forth, soothing you. “would you like to spend the new year’s eve here too?” he asked after a while, softer. he’d usually rent a yacht and host a raging party with all the kooks, but he didn’t feel like doing that this year. “i don’t wanna stay here… wanna go away, for like a week or two.”

“yes, alright…” you had already known the answer before you’d even spoken it, hands bunching up into his sweater tightly. there was no guaranteeing how long it’ll be after that until you both would see each other again, if ever, depending on what will happen until the new years eve.

you pulled your head back, eyes clearly puffy and a bit red as she sniffled, pressing a soft kiss right on the tip of his nose, causing him to huff as he tilted his head to capture your lips with his — a short lasting yet comforting kiss. exactly what you needed.

“merry christmas.” his hold tightened around your waist.

“merry christmas, rafe.” your hands loosened on his sweater, just a bit.

[reidrum]

santa doesn't know you like i do

note: i posted and deleted this a few days ago cuz i didn't like it but i read it again and it kinda helped with how i'm feeling rn. if the holidays are a difficult time for you i hope spencer can help a little, and i'm hugging you super tightly! merry christmas/happy holidays bffs always so grateful to have you around 🎄🫂

summary: in which the holiday blues hit you harder than you expect, and spencer is there for you

cw: angst, unspecified family trauma, hurt/comfort no hurt, indirect mentions of depression around holidays, reader is just kinda going through it

wc: 1.3k

Grief is a fickle feeling. Even more so because you’re not exactly mourning the loss of anyone, but simply a fraction of who you used to be.

There was a younger you who shined with radiance and hope, to only be dulled by the world and its harsh dealings as you grew older. It’s hard to say what you would change if given the chance for a redo, for the causation of it all acted more as a fungus growing through the roots of a tree, slowly spreading and weakening its base unknowingly, rather than an abrupt chop of an axe to the trunk.

You can’t really be blamed for how you feel—wounds will heal but memories don’t.

The snow falls gently on you as you sit on a bench in the park, the flakes dissolving onto your clothes as you gaze off at the families ice skating in the rink not too far from you. In particular, you’re watching a father hold his young daughter’s hand, she can’t be more than four years old, as they skate across the rink. You watch them smile as they both tumble down, giggling and pointing at who was the culprit. It was the daughter’s, but you watch as the father shoulders the faux blame and places her back on her skate covered feet. In the distance you see the mother holding her phone up with a fond look in her eyes as she captures the core memory.

The cognitive dissonance rings loudly within you as your heart clenches at the sight. You were loved. You are loved. There are people who love you—present tense. It doesn’t stop you from wondering how you would’ve turned out if you were loved, past tense.

Your vision gets blurry the longer you stare off. You don’t even noticing the sound of snow crunching getting louder until it stops just an inch from you, a voice speaking up a moment later, “I thought I’d find you here,”

You raise your head up to meet Spencer’s amber eyes, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets and brows furrowed in concern that peek out just below his beanie.

He sits down next to you, “It’s cold.”

You shrug mindlessly. He undoes the scarf around his neck and drapes it around you, removing his beanie to place on your head after.

After a beat you mumble, “Thanks.”

He nods again, “How long have you been here?” 

Spencer knows it had to have been some time. He came home from the office a few hours ago to your open faced phone on the mail table, the screen showing a few missed calls from your family, and your shoes missing from their place near the door. 

You’re honestly not even sure yourself, after seeing the calls your feet started to move on their own and as a form of sadistic punishment brought you to the park to watch the happy families enjoy their holidays.

“Not sure.”

Spencer is no stranger to estranged familial relationships, hell he could have another degree in it if they made them. While he understands the hesitancy you have with opening up, he’s still trying his hardest to show you that you can be vulnerable in his company, that he won’t weaponize your feelings and use them against you.

“You could’ve told me.”

“I don’t need anything.” you whisper defensively, “I can handle it by myself.”

He doesn’t even flinch at your snap. “Angel,” 

“Don’t.” you sniffle.

He sighs sadly, “I know.”

You know that he knows. For all the sorrow you’ve chalked up for yourself, Spencer could and most likely would match you. You suppose that’s why you felt drawn to each other—two birds learning to fly with clipped wings.

The colder days make the loneliness stand out more, so when it was blatantly obvious neither of you had plans for Thanksgiving the year prior, you had decided to spend it together. Unknowingly, you’d both planted the root of a beautiful friendship that turned into a loving relationship. Holiday seasons spent together turned into permanent company on birthdays and special occasions in the future, and warmth to last you for years to come.

He scoots closer to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders tugging you into him, “Look at me.”

When he doesn’t see you move your eyes from the rink to him, he places two fingers on your chin and gently averts your head up, “Hi, sweet girl.”

Tears sting the backs of your eyes as you try to make your voice not wobble, “Hi.”

He smiles softly, “You know I love you, right?”

“Spencer—“

“Because I get the feeling you’re forgetting, and we can’t have that.” he talks low, “It’s important to me that you know how much I love you.”

You sigh, eyes softening. “I know.” You look back out to the rink and see that the mother has joined her family on the ice, Spencer follows your gaze there and feels his heart tighten. He knows what you want, what you’ve longed for, for too many years. It’s why you come to this bench every year during the winter. When you see what could have been, you’re only reminded of what happened to you instead.

Spencer breaks you out of your headspace. “That’ll be us one day.” he says softly.

Spencer isn’t sure if you know about the life he longs for with you. How he dreams of warm beds filled with you, getting to come home to you everyday. How one day, maybe you’ll have kids who come running into your room at five in the morning screaming about opening Christmas presents, and he’ll get to roll over and press a kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer as the kids snuggle up with you both. Maybe you’ll even take them ice skating one day.

You chuckle sadly in disbelief, “You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do,” he looks back down at you, “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” he lightly jokes.

“I know.”

“I don’t think you want to.”

“I don’t think I deserve you.”

That stops him in his tracks. “Why do you say that?”

You pause, “I—I don’t know how to be loved, or how to love. Any concept of it I had is bullshit and it’s tainted and the thought of even passing that on to children—“

“Hey. Slow down.” he placates, “Sweetheart, you are worthy of love. You may not be used to it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it. If our children have even half the amount of love you have, they’ll turn out to be amazing humans. The way you love is so special.”

You stare at him in shock. Did he really say our children? You mumble, “Our children…”

He hums quizzically, “What?”

“You said our children, do you…think about that? With…me?”

“All the time,” he beams, “I think about it all with you.”

The familiar sting of tears returns, “All of it?”

“All of it,” he pulls you closer, “Marriage, kids, everything. Not to freak you out but I have the next twenty years of our lives planned.”

He finally gets a real laugh out of you, and he really couldn’t be more proud of himself. While you may just be a result of your circumstances, here is Spencer who is quite literally ready to spend decades with you recreating new memories. He wants a life with you. He wants every part of it, and he’ll happily help you through your rough patches when you need him. He is in love, you’re his best friend, and that is all he needs. You’ve never known a love like this, but Spencer will be here to show you that you will always be loved.

You hug him tightly and return your gaze back to the little girl skating with her father, The sight is no longer something you long for, but something you wait for.

[rocknrollsalad]

rating: gen cw: Steve Harrington has bad parents, holiday celebrations, period typical homophobia, show typical trauma tags: it's the 90s y'all, older steddie, established steddie, stancy is mentioned, reclaiming holidays word count: 728

-

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt "stocking" and the @steddiemas prompt "surprise"

Christmas had never been Steve’s favorite holiday. He was more of a Thanksgiving guy. A big meal, friends and family, and a little bit of football? It was exactly how Steve would describe the perfect day.

Not to mention Thanksgiving was more relaxed than Christmas. There was a certain pressure around Christmas time that Steve swears he’d call one of his earliest memories. Life had moved on a long, long way from trying to eat the lights on the tree but the pressure to be well-behaved and happy was the same.

However, finding his own little community did help some. Not that any of them were any more Christmas people than Steve. Chrissy was the closest, she liked to entertain so any excuse. Nancy and Jonathan had a kid now so they had to celebrate but other than that, they were all fine to let the day come and go. It was an obligation best spent with friends who were suffering the same way.

This year was a little different. For the first time in Steve’s life, he had his own place to celebrate. Not an apartment he and Eddie shared with Robin and Chrissy, not his family home that he was allowed to stay in, this was his. And Eddie’s. Mostly his though.

A modest little home just outside suburbia with a lawn and a two-car garage, Steve loved the place. He’d spent the last nine months fixing all the things that needed repaired and updated which only made him love it more. This was where he was going to spend the rest of his life.

It was that ownership, that security of something for forever, that had him buying a Christmas tree a little early this year. Not out of obligation but because there was a perfect spot in the living room for it. Right in front of the window yet not in the way. It wouldn't take up the only communal space and no one would tell him how to decorate it, so why not?

They gave it a few simple decorations and a new string of lights, Steve wasn’t going crazy here. He still didn’t care about Christmas, but this symbolized so much more. Something that became more and more obvious with each new bit of seasonal decor that found it's way up. What really cinched it was the stockings, though. Something about really said "Christmas" to Steve.

One for him and one for Eddie. Their stockings hung in their home as they would be for the rest of their lives. It probably shouldn’t have made Steve as emotional as it did. He couldn’t stop looking at them. All that they’d fought to be alive, everything they went through, made this feel like a luxury. One Steve couldn’t believe he’d earned.

But he had. There were scars, nightmares, and weekly trips to the therapist to prove it. Whether he’d ever feel like they were safe or that he could fully let his guard down, time would still tell, but Steve was starting to feel worthy of more than just existing.

And there was one more thing this picture-perfect life needed.

It wasn’t exactly possible but times had changed enough that Steve and Eddie could live together and even if it raised a few eyebrows, people kept quiet. It wasn’t enough but it was something. Still, Steve knew. He knew there wasn’t anyone else on this planet for him and the only reason he wasn’t married to Eddie was because it wasn’t legal.

So with a bit of scrambling and all the romantic creativity in his body, Steve bought a ring and wrote a little speech. He sat on both for almost a week without saying anything so that he could pull off the surprise a moment like this was worth.

When Christmas morning rolled around, Steve’s stocking was overflowing with trinkets, candies, and other little goodies but Eddie’s sat looking practically empty. Steve rooted around through his and tried to not watch a very disappointed man dig down to the toe of his monogrammed stocking, chasing the only thing in it.

By the time he’d succeeded, Steve had ditched his candy and was waiting on one knee. This was the last thing he needed to make this the life he’d always dreamt of and maybe the first step in making Christmas something truly magical.

[misseviehyde]

SIMONE SAYS

You wanted to stop your boyfriend. You wanted to end this right now, but Simone had said you had to sit quietly with the ballgag in, so that's what you were doing.

He looked exactly like her now... that bitch in the mirror. You kept telling yourself she wasn't real, that this was just a game that had gotten out of hand... but the fact your boyfriend was now almost a physical copy of your imaginary friend suggested this was more than some prank. Somehow this WAS real.

She pulled the satin pants into place and reached down for the final item of clothing...

In moments there would only be Simone.

How had this all started? Well it was all your fault.

You'd always had an imaginary friend called Simone that you blamed for everything naughty you ever did growing up. A play on 'Simon says' anytime you'd ever gotten into trouble you told people Simone had told you to do it.

When you'd gotten older, it had continued. Simone got the blame for telling you to cheat on guys, be horrible to people at work and act like a bitch. If anything it was a fun game that gave you license to do whatever the fuck you wanted.

In time it even began to make you act worse. Imagine what Simone would do in this situation... how bad and evil she would act. It made you actually come up with nasty ideas and thoughts.

Your imaginary friend was the most evil, sex obsessed cruel bitch imaginable. And then you'd got your boyfriend involved too.

You'd told Gary about Simone when you'd first met - as a kind of joke. But then he'd told you it kind of turned him on when you did things she would do. So you went along with it.

Simone appatantly told you to suck his dick in public, send him nude photos at work and then even stick your finger up his ass when you were fucking. Gary loved to play 'Simone says' the rules were you had to do whatever she told you.

But then things got weird. You began seeing a beautiful woman in every mirror you passed and so did he. The two of you were astounded to find out that somehow Simone was becoming real.

Now whenever you passed a mirror her evil whispers would fill your mind and make you do things. At first you thought you were just losing your minds - but then you began to see there was more to it.

Your imaginary friend had somehow become real and was now reaching across the mirror dimension trying to get into the real world.

Simone was coming to life and she was hungry for a body. Your body.

The two of you smashed every mirror in the house and tried to escape. Maybe if you ran far enough you could escape her.

You realised your mistake when you walked into the hotel room with its huge bathroom mirror and saw Simone smirking at you.

"Simone says Gary... become me."

You realised then that it wasn't you she wanted to possess but him. As you watched him begin to put on your clothes, he started to change.

"Mmmmmh I feel so fucking good," moaned Gary as his bones shifted and his reflection began to resemble the smirking bitch in the mirror.

With each item of clothing he put on, his change into her accelerated and you watched your imaginary friend being born in the real world. The girl in the mirror laughed and exulted, her actions freakily different to the woman in front of it.

Breasts grew, hips widened, hair lengthened, skin tanned. A beautiful woman was being born and she was loving every second of it as the image in the mirror began to fade. Simon was newly real and the mirror could no longer contain her.

As Gary slid on a blouse his body finished transforming and Simone finished touching up her makeup. The mirror shimmered and suddenly cracked then Simone's ntoken reflection returned... only now just a normal reflection of a real woman. Gary was totally gone.

"Well loser, it's done. I'm finally in your world. Mmmmmh all those naughty things you've blamed me for over the years... well I can't wait to ACTUALLY do all of them.

Simone giggled as she advanced and rooting around in your suitcase found a butt plug.

"Why don't we start with a little BDSM? Simone says bend over."

As you assumed the position, you wish you'd never invented such a fucking bitch...

[fayfaygoes]

It's not like he is "never upset with mc" .

There's obvious sternness in his voice when you find him visibly upset/angry at mc's actions and words(hidden motive) but that's about it .

Being louder doesn't equate to getting your point more solidified ,it's upsetting that people think otherwise & crave it even in fiction from someone like zayne as if it's a milestone to achieve for a man to..idk..have more authority..ig??be THE intimidating man?? I don't get it .

Which is also why many people I saw want Zayne & MC to fight ,to be in a heated argument .

Sure ,the couple will argue ,but the mature thing is to conclude , fix the issue and move on . Which Zayne and MC would do ,they speak their needs and resolve their problems . So what exactly what they want if not..yk

Part of me thinks it's due to the familiarity of what women are expected to deal with . We are so used to abusive or toxic behavior normalized around us so when we are put in places where it isn't the norm ,some feel like something is missing ,as if there is a void.

For example have y'all seen the tiktoks of women story timing saying she feels ugly and unwanted because a man respected her "No" without pushing her (yikes girl)..but I also think it's much deeper than that ,imagine how rooted the normalization of Men not respecting our 'No's & pushing our buttons and "he does it cuz he likes you" are ,to the point you feel something ain't right when the normal decent people act decently.

This could be the reason why many would find a husband coded man like Zayne 'boring' and 'dull' want him to be this in that time to time & lists traits that you will probably go through if it's an IRL man.

Hmmm

Sorry for rambling I am sick spare me xoxo

"I hope Zayne gets mad and raises his voice!!"

Get that shit away from me

Yes yes, it's good storytelling to make characters do things they wouldn't normally do

But we have enough men who can't control themselves in real life. Men who think they can use intimidation and fear to throw a tantrum and get what they want

I don't want that gross mentality of real men to poison my man Zayne. He's mature enough to know that raising his voice won't do any good. He's trained to keep cool under pressure and assess the situation calmly

He would never raise his voice at MC no matter how angry he is at her

Even if it's someone like Carter, Zayne yelling at anyone would be too out of character for him for my comfort tbh. If he has that in him, it's a red flag for me. Zayne solves his problems with logic, not emotion

Get that shit away from me

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 1

Chapter 0

♡———♡

I still don't know what love is.

But someday I want to fall in love and know love.

A passionate love like a blazing rose, a fierce love that remains forever like a story someone spun.

???: I see, I see...

???: How amusing.

(...Who?)

The change came to the recurring dream I always had, on the night it was decided I would travel to a foreign country.

In an immature space, a rose garden where many flowers are tightly closed as buds, an unknown person is reading an unfinished story placed on an oak table.

They had a mystical appearance that didn't seem human.

Hair that shimmered with the light of the giant moon rising in the sky, and strange eyes that seemed to hold the starry sky in their depths.

The sacred and beautiful being, blending into the dream space, scoffs at me as I approach.

Emma: What...is it?

???: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and thirsts for knowledge of it.

???: Love is not such a good thing.

???: There are times when it is happier to end your life as an innocent you who knows nothing.

I don't know what words they read from the unfinished book.

But the "something" that is not human directly denies what lies at the root of my heart.

Emma: How can you say that so definitively?

???: Because I am a God.

(...God?)

???: I have seen the "love" of many people. Not stories, but the many raw loves that exist in reality...

???: Many of them are people who think they can do anything with "love" as an excuse.

???: It's a miserable thing, a human being driven mad by love.

???: No matter how rational a person is, once they are mad with love, they can no longer live without it.

???: Like a curse.

Emma: ..............

???: You, the fact that the dream world is wrapped in thorns means you are the daughter of Rhodolite, right?

???: Rhodolite also had it. The story of His Majesty the King who lost his love and fell into becoming a beast.

Emma: ...The love story of the previous Belle and His Majesty the King may indeed have been a tragedy.

Emma: But that doesn't mean that all love ends in tragedy.

???: You are quite right. But it also doesn't mean that all love ends in comedy.

???: Why do you crave love?

At the God's question, words catch in my throat.

There was no particular reason.

There is no particular motive.

It doesn't go beyond pure yearning, and I don't have any deep thoughts on love.

Only when I am told do I realize that my longing has no substance.

???: At the very least, I would like to be excused from such a thing as love.

???: --Because I am a god who does not love people.

-

(...Nn...)

Drawn by the gentle sunlight peeking through the window, I opened my eyes to find the familiar ceiling of my room in the city filling my vision.

The immature roses, the God who denied love, all vanished like an illusion.

As soon as I woke up, the memories of the dream crumbled, gradually being repainted with reality.

But there was one fragment of the dream that fell into my heart without disappearing.

("Love is a curse"... huh?)

???: Emma, are you awake?

The door knocker announcing a visitor pushed aside my sleepiness.

(This voice... Rio?)

Emma: Sorry, wait a moment!

???: Ah, it's fine. I'm a gentleman, so I'll wait for you as long as it takes.

(...Wait, I think I heard a voice other than Rio's...)

With a touch of anxiety, I quickly changed clothes, washed my face, and got ready before opening the door.

Standing at the entrance was the dazzling smile of my friend, who had quit being a butler and returned to the city with me.

Rio: Good morning! You look absolutely adorable today too!

Emma: Yes, yes, thank you as always.

Emma: ...What brings you here so early?

Rio: I just came to see you because I wanted to see your face.

Rio: I brought some bread. Would you like to eat together?

Emma: Thank you, I'd love to. Mmm, it smells good...

Rio: It's from your favorite bakery. They have the new divination bread too.

Emma: Divination bread? Sounds interesting!

Clavis: Wait, wait, Emma. There's something more important than bread, isn't there?

A figure forcibly wedging himself between Rio and me snatched the bag of bread.

(So it wasn't a hallucination after all.)

Giving up my self-defense escapism, I faced the prince, this country's number one problem child, with a dubious smile plastered on his face.

Emma: It's been a while, Prince Clavis.

Clavis: I'm glad you jumped into my arms honestly from the start.

Emma: Thank you for your concern. Why are you here?

Clavis: Now, why do you think?

???: Don't be so coy, just say it already.

(Huh...?)

I couldn't help but widen my eyes at the large figure sitting on a wooden box some distance away.

Emma: Prince Luke was here too!?

Luke: Oh. Sorry for barging in so early in the morning.

Rio: I just happened to run into Prince Clavis and Prince Luke a while ago.

Rio: I haven't heard what they're here for either, but...

(I thought it was unusual for Rio to come this early in the morning... Maybe he was worried about me.)

Luke stood up from the wooden box and lightly lifted the paper bag he was holding.

Luke: Let us join your breakfast party too.

-

A commoner's house, occupied by two princes and a former butler friend... In this space, oppressive both physically and mentally, it was Clavis who broke the silence first.

Clavis: Emma, you're going to Tanzanite soon, aren't you?

Rio: Ugh...

The freshly baked bread lined up on the small table and the sweets Luke brought as a souvenir lightly bounced as Rio bumped his head against the corner.

Clavis: What's wrong?

Rio: ...I have a seizure every time I hear that.

Rio: To think that I won't be able to see my angel, goddess, and fairy, Emma, for a while...

Luke: You're so dramatic.

(The first time I told Rio, he looked like he was about to combust, so this is much better.)

*flashback*

Rio: --Emma is going... to Tanzanite...?

Emma: Rio, are you okay!? You just slammed your head into the bookshelf...

Rio: I'm okay... But, why...?

Emma: The owner told me a lot about foreign countries, and I was especially interested in the God in Tanzanite who can perform divination with 100% accuracy.

Emma: If Gods really exist in reality, I thought I'd like to meet one.

Emma: Besides, you know, Tanzanite is famous for tourism, right?

Emma: It's a desert, but I thought it would be a good place for my first trip.

*back to present*

(I felt bad for almost making Rio faint...)

(But I've been excited every day since it was decided I was going to Tanzanite.)

Luke: It's surprising you're not going with her.

Rio: The owner asked me to look after the shop while he's away.

Rio: Of course, I want to go with her!? What if something happens to Emma while I'm not there...?

Rio: But if me staying here will allow Emma to travel with peace of mind, then I... I...

Clavis: Haha, if that's the case, don't worry.

Clavis tore off a piece of bread he was holding, brought it to his mouth, savored it deliciously, and swallowed.

Clavis: We'll be Emma's bodyguards in your place.

Rio: Eh, really? That's great, then I can relax--

Rio: --That's not how it works, is it!? Wait, what do you mean?

(What does he mean!?)

I almost dropped my divination bread and hurriedly caught it.

Clavis: Exactly what I said.

Luke: We're going to Tanzanite too.

Luke, who had stuffed a whole honey-covered pastry into his large mouth, sighed as he licked his fingers.

Luke: I don't want to go because it's a pain, but Chevalier ordered me to go on a diplomatic mission.

(To Tanzanite at this time...)

*flashback*

Akatsuki: Things have been dangerous everywhere lately.

Emma: Could it be... because of the Triple Alliance?

Akatsuki: Yeah. For now, there are no overt moves from any country. But it feels like the calm before the storm.

*back to present*

(...I'm an outsider now, so it's probably best not to pry too deeply.)

Clavis: It's close to your departure date. So, wouldn't you want to go with us?

Clavis: We're planning to use the sea route via Benitoite, and if you board the country's passenger ship, it's practically free.

Clavis: I can see you crying with joy. Ah, I know even without you saying it.

Clavis: Such good fortune to be able to go to a foreign land with your beloved Clavis--

Rio: Objection!

Rio, springing to his feet in the small room, pointed a finger at Clavis.

Rio: They say there's nothing scarier than something free, so what's your objective?

(As expected of Rio, that's what I wanted to know too.)

Clavis took a sip of the tea I had prepared as if to pause for a breath...

And what appeared on his slightly moistened lips was a meaningful and fearless smile.

Clavis: What do you think?

Luke: Don't be so suggestive. There's no deep reason.

Clavis: Luke, read the room.

Luke: You should.

Luke: This guy issued a notice to all officials to report any interesting information regarding Emma to him immediately.

Emma: So you knew about my trip to Tanzanite because...

Luke: The official who issued your departure permit ratted you out.

Emma: Isn't that an abuse of power!?

Clavis: What are you talking about? It's his job.

Luke: This guy was jumping for joy when he learned about your first trip, saying "Delightful."

Luke: He volunteered to go to Tanzanite himself, and I was stuck with babysitting Nokto.

Luke: He said, "I have to give Emma at least one sane person because she's pitiful."

(Thank you, Nokto!)

Luke: But, if you really can't stand it, I'll take responsibility and bury Clavis in the woods.

Clavis: There's no need to worry about that. Emma must be trembling with joy, right?

Luke: ...You should get your eyes checked by a doctor before you leave the country.

Rio: ...I'm worried. I'm very worried.

(I should probably consult with the owner since I'm not traveling alone... )

(But it's reassuring to have someone I know in an unfamiliar place, not just Clavis but Luke too.)

Lost in thought and worry, I furrowed my brow and tore the divination bread I was holding in half.

Emma: Ah.

(Something came out from inside.)

It was a small figurine made of pottery.

It was modeled after a horned horse, standing gallantly on the palm of my hand.

Rio: As expected of Emma! That's a jackpot.

Clavis: Oh ho... Indeed, the unicorn is currently considered the "symbol of good luck" across the continent.

Emma: Is that so?

Clavis: Yes. It's a good sign, you should keep it as a charm.

Clavis: After all, the unicorn has a special meaning in the desert country...?

(I don't really associate unicorns with deserts...)

Emma: If that's the case, it seems like it will bring good luck.

Luke: You've been a good girl. Lots of good things will happen to you even without a unicorn.

I gently wrapped the unicorn in my hand with my fingers.

The unexpected good fortune seemed to be pushing me forward, confirming that my current honest feelings were "right."

Clavis: So, Emma, will you go with us...?

-

The gateway to Tanzanite, the land of divination and illusions enveloped in desert, was a bustling port town like Benitoite, thriving with merchants.

Emma: This is Tanzanite...!

(I had heard it was a desert, so I thought there would be more sandstorms raging...)

There was no hint of desert in the lively town.

However, the attire of the animals and people passing through the town was clearly different from that of Rhodolite and Benitoite, and coupled with the scent of spices wafting through the air, it made me feel like I was standing in a foreign land.

(I've really come a long way.)

Akatsuki: Our destination is far. It's too early to be frolicking around.

The owner, carrying luggage for his business trip, lined up next to me.

I was also carrying a bag full of books, but it was nothing compared to the owner's.

Emma: Should I carry some more of your luggage?

Akatsuki: No need. I usually carry it all by myself.

(It looks like there are easily 100 books, and he carries them all by himself...)

Clavis: Even though we offered to help, Akatsuki is quite serious, isn't he?

Luke: Emma, I can also carry some for you.

Clavis and Luke, who were on the same ship, were lightly dressed in contrast to us.

Emma: Thank you. But this is my first purchasing trip, so I want to carry my luggage myself.

Emma: Selling books in a foreign land, buying new ones...

Emma: I'm really looking forward to seeing how much the contents of my bag will change between the outbound and return trips.

Luke: You're really lively.

Clavis: Akatsuki has a good assistant.

Clavis: By the way, where are you two going now?

Akatsuki: Someone is coming to pick us up.

Emma: ...Pick us up?

Where the owner unnaturally shifted his gaze, an eye-catching beauty was standing.

(Wow...)

She was a tall, bewitching woman dressed in extravagant ornaments, no less impressive than the owner in his vibrantly colored ruby red attire.

Next to her was a gentle-looking man with glasses, who, upon noticing us, broke into a smile and approached.

Man with glasses: We've been waiting for you, Akatsuki. And...

Emma: I'm Emma. I've come as the owner's assistant.

Basil: Ah, I heard about you in the letter. Nice to meet you, please call me Basil.

Basil: And this flamboyant woman here is Kamal.

Kamal: ............

Kamal smiled seductively and showed me the words "Nice to meet you" from a bundle of papers she took out of her pocket.

Basil: As you can see, Kamal can't speak, so please communicate with her through writing.

(I see...)

Emma: Understood. It's a pleasure to meet you both.

Clavis: ...Hmm.

Beside us, as we exchanged greetings amicably, Clavis rested his chin on his hand.

Clavis: You are servants of the Living God, are you not?

(...Eh?)

Basil: Impressive! How did you know?

Clavis: Well, you have the proof of faith, don't you?

Clavis pointed to his own chest with his finger.

Both Basil and Kamal had their cloak clasps in that spot.

(...Looking closely, there's a unicorn on the clasp.)

(Is this the "proof of faith"?)

Clavis: I once heard that those close to God wear unicorn ornaments.

Clavis: Also, a few years ago, I heard a story about the book merchant that Prince Azel employs.

Clavis: I had a hunch, but it seems Akatsuki's client is a big shot.

Emma: Client... You mean God?

Akatsuki: Whether it's God or royalty, a customer is a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

(He didn't tell me that!?)

The owner, who didn't change his expression at all, might be a more amazing person than I thought.

Basil: We will always serve as guides for Akatsuki.

Basil: Prince Clavis and Prince Luke, please go that way. The court envoy is waiting for you.

Clavis: Haha, as expected of your discerning eye, to know not only about me but also about the newcomer Luke.

Clavis: Rhodolite shouldn't have sent a prior notice about who was coming, so it must be a prophecy from the Living God, right?

(...!)

Basil: That's right! Prince Azel is truly an amazing person! Can I talk about this? Is the atmosphere okay? It's okay, right?

(He suddenly started talking fast...?)

Kamal mercilessly smacked Basil on the head as he pushed up his glasses and made them shine, a complete change from his calm demeanor.

Then she took out another stack of papers and showed the word "Let's go."

(...That sounded like his skull cracked, is he okay?)

Luke: Well, we'll say goodbye here for now.

Clavis: I'll come to see you myself before Emma starts crying from loneliness, okay?

Emma: I don't think I'll cry from loneliness, but let's meet again.

(With this flow... we're going straight to God's place, right?)

(Oh no, I'm getting nervous.)

(I wonder what the real God is like.)

-

Azel: Thank you for making the trip to such a remote place.

Emma: Ah!

.

.

.

Chapter 2

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[yanderefarm]

yandere prisoner x final boy reader

cw; gore, suggestive, implied violence towards reader, violence, knives, prison

here is his story.... name still undecided but!!! its him.

the forest branches are long and winding, like hands reaching out to grab and their twigs like claws scratching at your skin as you run through them. you hear the sound of manic laughter coming from too close behind you, the sound echoing like thunder pounding in your ears. your legs are going to give out soon. closer. you see a flash of green. closer. your foot hits a tree root and your body crashes through the stinging branches leaving a thousand scratches on your skin. you try to tuck into yourself as you hit the concrete but it's too much, everything hurts and you can't bring your legs to move anymore. closer. you see those grey eyes filled with vitriol. flash of red. flash of blue. red. blue. red. blue. a ringing like a siren is getting closer, louder. the weight of his body sinks onto your chest. that long slimy tongue drags up against your cheek.

your eyes shoot open and you're miles away from that cabin again. your cat has made itself comfortable on your chest and is licking your nose trying to wake you up while your alarm clock rings through the room. you feel bad as you shove your cat off your chest but you just can't breathe. finally able to take a deep breath you sit up. its not unusual for you to have nightmares about that night but ever since his release was announced it's been more and more frequent, a constant reminder of what you have to do. and today is the day of release.

outside of the prison is dozens of news reporters, people trying to get your opinion on this by shoving microphones in your face. you're unfortunately used to it and you just push them out of your face. the only thing that matters is that you get him today. the heavy metal gates open for you, they allow you into the belly of the beast again. you can't help but shake as you're led into the prison by guards who know what horror awaits you.

in the room you've met him a dozen times he sits with a small pile of belongings. his lips pull into a wide smile as soon as those grey eyes land on you. you can see his sharp canines and then his absurdly long tongue lick his lips like a hungry wolf. he thinks he's gotten his precious little bunny rabbit but you won't let yourself become another meal for this voracious predator.

you two have a short meaningless conversation before you're ready to leave with him. honestly it feels like everything is on autopilot as you guide him back out of the prison towards your car. he stops to talk to the reporters, to imply he's going to spend the night with you but your eyes glaze over to his taunts. you know he's thinking about all the letters he sent you over the years, you know he's dreaming about the torture he's going to inflict as soon as you two are alone. he won't get the chance.

he continues to make vaguely threatening perverse comments to you as you two enter the car. apparently he didn't expect his bunny rabbit to fight back. the needle sinks into his shoulder and within minutes he's passed out.

when he wakes up? he's in an all too familiar looking cabin. he's tied with the strongest chains you could find to the ground.

"do you remember this place...?" you ask when you notice him looking around.

"this isn't where we met." he says it confidently and he's not wrong.

"the one we met in was demolished. all of them were supposed to be. i managed to buy this one before they could destroy it."

"you're sooo romantic~"

you slam a familiar looking knife into the table. "do you know why this one is significant?"

"mmmm lemme guess... was someone you loved in here? or maybe you were supposed to stay in this one?"

".... you gutted my boyfriend and my best friend and you mutilated them so badly the coroner couldn't tell where one began and the other ended."

"oopsie~"

you let him get the better of you and you slap him hard across the cheek. he moans at the pain as a red and handprint starts to form.

"i remember how they felt... i remember the warmth. i remember that little roommate of yours was still alive while i fucked her guts."

he was provoking you to hit him again, the same way he provoked you in the prison. but now... you had the power. you walked away from him to grab the knife from the table.

"you liked that didn't you? you like being a disgusting monster, right?" you ran the knife down his chest and he shuddered. "then you'll like it if i show you how it feels to be used as a toy right?"

he didn't need to speak, you could see his tongue running against his lips. some of his drool even dripped down his now exposed chest. he wasn't going to enjoy this for long but you would.

[blu3-ja3]

Jillian's POV

My parents love me, I know this. Maybe they're not the best but I could have it far worse. My parents love me but they love Lady Gotham more, I can't fault them for that. She's the reason Mother is alive, why I have my gifts and for that my parents wish to set her free. But in order to do that I have to help them find her first...

I know my assignment: find a Wayne child and befriend them. My parents can get to Bruce Wayne through that, from there I don't know what's to happen. Part of me is too scared to ask, I know what they have planned for me. I can only imagine what they have planned for him. It's for the greater good of Gotham. My mother's words echo through my mind as I walk into the large ball room where the gala is being held.

I came in with my parents but I was shooed away as soon as they started speaking with other attendees. I keep my hands busy, picking idly at the sleeves of my green dress. My eye stopped at a man and woman, I don't know why they felt significant. Like I was seeing something I'm not supposed to see.

The man has dark brown hair with a gray almost white streak slicked to the side. He had kind blue eyes and a genuine smile. The woman has short curly black hair with a few greys peppered softly throughout, she's holding the man's arm with nothing but love in her dark brown eyes.

As I studied their features something clicked in my head, like a puzzle piece fitting. They're Martha and Thomas Wayne, I jump slightly as they both turn to me. I make eye contact with Thomas Wayne before I duck behind someone leaving their eyesight. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

Of course the spirits of his parents would be with him Jillian, it's not the first time you've seen the dead. Calm down and remember the reason Mother let you come along. I swallow the lump in my throat and are about to make a move when a familiar gloved hand grabs my arm. I look up to my mother glaring down at me a sickly sweet smile on her face.

"Come along sweetheart, I'd like to introduce you to the Wayne family, maybe you'll make a friend!" My mother's voice lilts, her grip on my arm becoming tighter.

I nod as she pulls me in front of her, guiding me towards the couple from before. I tried to ignore them and focus on the living people behind them. A tall man with black hair has his back towards us leaning over messing with something, he stands up straight as my father approaches.

"Mister Wayne! How lovely to formally meet you! Thompson Rosenberg!" My father holds out a hand to the man. Mr. Wayne takes my father's hand and shakes it firmly before my father gestures towards me and my mother, opens his mouth to say something before mother cuts him off.

"Bruce! How lovely to see you again, it's been a long time since we were kids!" My mother holds out her hand to the man and holds her cheek as Bruce places a kiss on her glove with a bow.

"It's good to see you as well Amalia, I'm glad you've come back to Gotham! Nice to have another family with old roots back to help!" I'm a little taken aback as the man has such a breathy almost ditzy voice to him. He speaks with an almost old Hollywood quality to his voice.

I feel my mother's grip on my shoulder tighten, her nails digging into my shoulder through her gloves. I tense a bit before forcing my body to relax as Mr Wayne's blue eyes shift towards me, something hard and calculating there before his gaze darts towards my mother as she speaks.

"And this," Another harsh squeeze before her hand falls to my back, "Is Jillian! My darling baby girl!"

I give the tall man a simple smile and a wave before I speak, "Hello, Mr. Wayne! It's a pleasure to meet you, my mother has told me stories about you and her as children!"

I keep my voice calm, recalling everything my parents told me. How I have to keep up appearances or else there would be consequences. I force myself not to shudder at the thought of what my parents would do if I messed up their assignment.

"Ah! Lovely to meet you, I've got a few of my own kids running around here somewhere! Damien! Why don't you introduce Jillian to your brothers and sisters!" Bruce smiles sweetly as he pushes a younger boy towards me. The boy has darker skin than his father, he's got dark green eyes and black slightly curly hair. He's wearing a black suit with a light green bow tie.

"Come this way," the younger boy orders before walking away, moving with a purpose through the crowds of people. I look towards my mother who waves me away yet again.

I follow quickly trying to avoid touching anyone or anything, I watch as Damien reaches a set of large wooden doors that lead outside. He waits as I catch up before opening the door and stepping out into the garden. I can hear multiple voices ringing out from the court yard.

As I step out I can feel a little tension ease out of my body. The garden is massive, rows of flowers and bushes around a large gravel courtyard with paths leading further into the garden. There are several figures in the courtyard, a few running around laughing and screaming while others sit. Damien walks up to a woman with red hair, sitting on a stone bench, an empty wheelchair sitting next to her, she's wearing a long mermaid tail dress that's in bright yellow.

"This is Barbra Gordon, a close family friend to the Wayne's." Damien gestures like he's a tour guide at a museum.

"Hello, Damien who's this?" The woman waves to me as I wave back smiling softly.

"Jillian Rosenberg, Father told me to introduce her to the family. You're family are you not Barbra?" Damien cocks his head to the side before he moves to a step to the right standing in front of another woman. She has short dark brown hair, warm brown skin and dark almost black brown eyes. She's wearing a very form fitting black cocktail dress with no sleeves.

"This is my step mother, Selena Kyle," The woman's eyes widen a bit before she speaks.

"Damien sweetheart, that's very kind of you to say but I'm only dating Bruce. We're not even married darling," Damien scoffs a quiet little 'tch' before continuing on walking towards a tree. I give a small wave towards the two women and follow the younger boy.

Damien stops in front of a man with black hair and a bright streak of white hair, he has extremely dark green eyes. He's wearing a black suit with no tie and a red pocket square. I tried to ignore uneasy almost sickly feelings I'm getting by being around him as he looks up from the book he's reading.

"This is my older brother Jason! He's very recently come back from being away! He won't tell me from where though, Father is very excited about having him back," Damien looks up and I notice a girl about my age, she has short black hair and black eyes. She's wearing a black suit with a black tie but has no jacket, just a tailored vest.

"That is my sister Cassandra, she does not bother herself with idle chit chat. I respect that about her." I give a small wave to both before following Damien over the center of the courtyard where three figures all about my age are running around laughing.

One is a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, she's wearing a short knee length purple dress. She's chasing another boy who has dark brown skin, black tightly curled hair, and warm orange brown eyes. He's wearing a black suit with a bright yellow vest underneath. Another boy is chasing both of them he's pale with extremely pale blue eyes and black hair, he's wearing an all black suit with a red red button up underneath.

Damien is about to say something when someone yells to look out, Damien jumps out of the way as a taller figure comes barreling towards me. Before I can really catch myself I'm falling backwards as the figure jumps into the air, flipping over me. I fall backwards, tripping over my own dress and landing on my ass and hand.

Before I can stop it, someone grabs my hand to help me. I scream as flashes of someone else's life appear before my eyes, filling my mind with their memories. Being in a circus, a caring childhood with so much color and life. An exciting night becomes something horrible, sadness, grief and anger. I pull my hand away quickly, grasping my hand over my mouth.

I can feel tears rolling down my cheeks as I stand up quickly, I don't even look around at the small group of people. I quickly blink away the tears in my eyes before taking a deep breath to calm myself and school my expression. I frowned at my dress, a visible rip in it.

"Are you okay?" I look up to see Ms. Selena holding out an arm to me, "Oh sweet you've ripped your dress, let's get you fixed up shall we?"

I took her arm and mumbled an apology to everyone, as I stood up. I followed the taller woman as she guided me back inside towards the bathrooms. She kept her arm hooked in mine as we walked through the main gala hall. I noticed Barbara, the blonde girl and Cassandra following and fanning out around me as we enter a private room.

"Cassandra can you give me two clean edges to work with, Stephanie can you get me the green thread from my kit in my purse?" Selena looks to me before smiling a kind genuine smile.

"We'll get your dress fixed sweet but are you okay? You had quite the reaction when Dick touched your hand..." I swallowed before taking a deep breath.

"I'm a germaphobe, I'm sorry it's nothing personal." I keep my hands close to my chest, fidgeting with my high collared dress.

I stand as the four women around me work seamlessly together, barely any words exchanged between them. My dress was mended and we were back outside in the garden, standing with the group of boys and Bruce Wayne an older man who looks similar to Barbara. Damien appeared before me again gesturing towards the girl I've now learned is Stephanie.

"You've met Stephanie," Damien points towards the boy in the bright yellow vest before continuing. "This is Duke, and that's Timothy,"

Damien points to the boy in the red, a man in black suit with a blue vest and blue button up shirt, he also has black hair and light blue eyes. He looks a bit like a kicked dog as he stepped forwards.

"I'm sorry for making you trip and your dress ripping," I smile as kindly as possible keeping my hands close to my chest.

"It's okay, I got to see some very cool acrobatics and Ms. Kyle helped fix my dress." I tense up as a familiar gloved hand appears on my shoulder, squeezing tightly as nails dig into my shoulder.

"Jillian, introduce us to your friends sweetheart!" My mother's voice lilts, I force myself not to grimace.

"Mother, Father, meet the Wayne children," I gesture to each as I speak their name before pausing at the man who flipped over me. "I'm sorry I still haven't heard your name, Mister..."

"Oh Richard Grayson- Wayne, but please call me Dick!" He reaches out a hand to take mine, I take a deep breath preparing myself for what may appear before me.

"Oh Dick, darling, Jillian doesn't like skin to skin contact. She's a bit like Alfred when it comes to germs," I hear Selina call out from where she's standing next to Bruce.

I can feel my mother's grip on my shoulder tighten again, the pin pricks of pain spreading to encompass my shoulder. I struggle not to show how much her grip is hurting before I reach out quickly and take the man's hand.

Flashes of an older man in a butler uniform throughout the years, scolding me and others. Baking in a kitchen with a kind smile and serving tea while outside together. Numerous conversations and lessons flashing in front of me.

As soon as the images start I pull my hand away, taking a deep shuddering breath. I look at my mother and see her smiling, a sense of satisfaction radiating from her. I look back towards the Wayne family to see several looks of concern pointed towards me. I take another shuddering breath and give them a big smile that I know doesn't reach my eyes.

"Well this has been a lovely evening but we truly must be going! I'm sure we'll see each other again soon, Jillian will be attending Gotham's school soon!" My mother turns me around and we leave. I turn back giving a small wave before Cassandra steps up and hands me the small clutch purse I was carrying. I thanked her before following my parents outside.

The ride home I'm quiet, my mother and father talking amongst themselves as I slip on my gloves. I open my little purse to grab my phone only to find a slip of paper: 'If you need some friends to eat lunch with, you can come hang with us' underneath are Timothy's, Stephanie's, Cassandra's and Duke's numbers. I feel a slight smile creep across my face before I school my expression.

I started typing out as much as I could remember about the memories I witnessed. My gut twists with guilt, I invaded that man's privacy and saw glimpses of his past. It's not the first time I've used my gift but it always makes me feel disgusting, seeing things I'm not meant to see.

But it's for my parents, they need the information and I'm the only way they can get it. So I do what they need because it's my responsibility to them and to Lady Gotham. It's for the greater good but then why do I feel so awful afterwards? No I can't think like that, those thoughts lead to questions that make Mother angry and Father disappointed. I send everything I wrote to my mother's number before staring out the window.

Bruce's POV

The Rosenbergs have officially come back to Gotham. The last Rosenberg, the only daughter; Amalia, returned to her childhood home with her daughter and husband. I asked Alfred for assistance when trying to learn more about the family and their impact on Gotham before leaving.

They were one of the first families to settle in Gotham after the Wayne family began the efforts. The Rosenberg's are a long line of doctors and pharmacists, the original owners of Rosenberg Hospital in Gotham. That was until John Rosenberg, Amalia's father. The man went mad with grief after his wife's disappearance, yet another unsolved case of Gotham.

There are several reports stating that John would talk constantly of a curse on Gotham and a mysterious lady. Someone who granted miracles to her faithful, spending a great deal of his family's fortune digging in the harbor and near Arkham Island.

Misfortune struck when Amalia was 10, her father snap and attacked the rest of the Rosenberg family. He killed both Amalia's brothers as well as his parents before killing himself, the reports are vague but there are reports stating the crime scene as ritual-like. Amalia was sent to live with her father's sister in Europe afterwards. I was young when Amalia was sent away, I remember Father talking to Mother about attending the funeral because John was a good family friend.

The Rosenberg's were potentially another corrupt family reestablishing their foot hold on Gotham. Meeting with them at the gala was an opportunity to get a baseline on them, understand what I could and assess them in a neutral environment. I got what I wanted and more. I'm a father, I know the difference between a child who's shy and a child who's under duress.

Stiff back and shoulders, clenched jaw, arms held tightly to the side. Extremely nervous, continuously picking at the sleeves of her dress. She had bags under her eyes, makeup clearly placed to cover them up, her smile forced and practiced. Never quit reaching her eyes until smiling towards Damien. Her entire figure deflates once out of her mother's reach.

Amalia kept a hand on the young girl the entirety of our introduction, it wasn't a kind hand either. There were flexed muscles in the arm and hands, hard to notice through the long gloves covering most of her arm. She held disdain in her eyes when looking at her daughter even more evident when I asked about her daughter or when we spoke of children.

Thompson is much of a threat, he's very passive with all of his exchanges. But he's smart and knows how to dance around a subject, goading you into asking the questions he wants to ask. He knows how to make you comfortable about letting information slip, I know when to keep my mouth shut thankfully. Though that seemed to frustrate them to no end. They leave quickly once they seem to realize I wouldn't be giving up much.

I excused myself after spotting Selena with Rosenberg's daughter and the girls. I moved to doors and the ladies came through to see my sons having a conversation, Dick looking guilty.

"What happened?" They all look up and towards me, Tim's the first to speak up and explain the events. I scolded them a bit for rough housing at a public event but relented after a moment knowing they meant no harm to. Jim Gordon eventually joins asking where Barbra was, which was I explained what I spotted.

The girls come back and everyone slips back into their Wayne family persona. Damien bounces over towards Jillian like he's an excited kid with a new friend, he's chattering away about the rest of the family before stopping when Dick steps up to the girl.

Her demeanor is very relaxed and kind, smiling sweetly at Dick and accepting his apology with a joke of her own. Jillian opens her mouth to say something before tensing up completely when her mother touches her. I hear Selina make a noise of discomfort as she squeezes my hand, I squeeze back letting her know I saw it too.

The girl looks like she's about to snap in two as she introduced everyone before stopping at Dick. The fear on Jillian's face when Dick held out a hand to her makes my gut twist. Selina calls out to Dick letting him know about her germaphobia but I watched Amelia's grip tighten as a flash of pain appeared on the girl's face.

Before Dick could react and take his hand away Jillian took his hand, her eyes seemed to glaze over as tears appeared in them. Her expression locked in discomfort before she pulled away just as quickly. The tension in her shoulders remained but her expression molded itself to something that could pass for happiness.

I had to bite back my anger at the look of satisfaction on Amelia's face, her grip on her daughter's shoulder loosening before calling out a good bye. The teens were quick to react before Cass moved quickly to give Jillian her purse. The difference between Jillian's genuine smile and the forced smile she was wearing is like night and day. Everyone watched as she disappeared into the building to follow her parents.

I make a silent promise to myself to watch the Rosenberg's because there is something they're hiding, and it's my duty to protect Gotham and those who call Gotham their home.

HELLO! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this little story! More is to come but I wanted to get this out there!

[mahou-furbies]

First impressions on Champignon Witch

This manga isn't really magical girls, but there is a witch in it (duh) and no way I'm not gonna talk about it. I saw this in a compilation of anime that's coming out in 2025 and from the promo art alone I knew this was going to be my manga (from the mushroom witch hat with ornate decorations), and so far it has lived up to expectations.

The story is set in a fairytale style world, where the black witch Luna lives in her little mushroom house in a forest with her magic familiars, and makes various powerful medicine out of poisonous mushrooms. People fear and hate her because she emits poison, and even the few merchants who will do business with her and treat her in a friendly way wear protective items around her and will scrub clean everything she has touched after she leaves. Luna continues to create medicine for the townspeople though, because she has few other ways to feel connected to other people outside seeing everyone all happy about the anonymous source's cures, even if she knows that nobody would want them if they knew they came from the poison witch. Also unbeknownst to the normies the poison she radiates is actually beneficial, because she involuntarily sucks up this vague evil bad vibe energy around her, and turns it into a more manageable form.

The first volume or so is spent following Luna's life, and it isn't until later when she finds the turbo poisoned boy Lis, somewhat cures him and takes him as an apprentice that the main story actually starts. The council of the black witches wants to kill him, because it is speculated that his poisoning will eventually take over and he'll cause large scale ruination, and only allow a limited time for Luna to teach him to manage his own poison.

I like how the whole series has a rather somber tone, which mostly comes from the characters wanting and failing to be close to one another, and trying to make peace with having to give up on someone. Like Luna has lost several of her black witch friends to witch hunt executions. The story also has a difficult relationship with love, since love is "poisonous" to black witches and messes up their magic, and also Luna has to live in isolation anyway. But it doesn't seem like this is a "love conquers all" kind of romance, because it has a side character give a speech on how it's condescending of outsiders to think that life without love is somehow incomplete.

I really like Luna, aside from the lovely character design she also has sweet quiet personality and it's easy to root for her to get through her self esteem troubles. I also like that she is already an experienced witch at the start and not a newbie who is baffled by everything. I'd say my biggest complaint about the story is that lately it has been a lot more about characters other than Luna, I wish she'd come back to the spotlight soon!

Since Luna's character design is what drew me to this in the first place, I was extremely happy that she wears a lot of memorable "medieval fantasy" type outfits. Quite many of them in fact, she has a new one almost every chapter! And sometimes multiple in the same chapter! And you know how I often like to draw collections of animu outfits with the character standing there in a neutral pose, here the author has done my job for me because almost every chapter ends with a good reference image full body pics of the major characters' new clothes! Even the ones that only appear once on a cover! It's like this was made for me.

Finally it should be mentioned that eventually Lis falls in love with Luna; it's somewhat complicated how old he is because he keeps getting aged down by magic so he is chronologically older than how he looks (and so is Luna for that matter, this is a "magic people stop aging" kinda series), but if that's a dealbreaker to you then maybe steer clear.

[trashy-tries-writing]

Hiii its me again 🍄 anon! And i got more ideas for Ravine writing!

Ok so what if like we have a scenario where maybe Ravine gets caught off guard, like someone unexpectedly came up from behind him(I honestly doubt that would actually happen but just for the sake if the post lets just say it happens) and Ravine's first instinct/reaction is to grab whoever's behind him and throw them over his shoulder (WWE style-) then proceeds to almost blow there head off with whatever firearm on him at the time.

If it wasn't for whoever got bodied to snap Ravine out of it there would have been a blood soak floor. When said person gets up they ask him what that was about and as per usual, Ravine says nothing but just stares at them before walking away.

I just think it would be funny seeing people like Ghost and Price get bodied/thrown around like it was nothing. And honestly seeing König get decommissioned in seconds would be hilarious! He's probably so used to being feared by everyone/being build like a fuckin truck that having someone casually just flip him would probably throw him for a loop.

Anyways thanks for listening to my dumb rambling again! Ravine always makes me feel better! This is 🍄 anon and ill see you next time!

Also Ravine could do that to me and i would fuckin thank him-

Watching Young Justice League- (or the crash course bc I can’t find full ep.) and realizing they skipped so much stuff. Maybe I should’ve started with comics instead of a TV series. Anyone have recommendations for someone who’s just getting into DC? (I already have like- a character that turns from a normal boy into a meta-human into the moon- I meAN WHAT- Too much fun with angst. I swear I try to write fluff, I swear I am. XD)

Also Spiderman??? So much angst on top of angst on top of angst- Like "Spider-man: No Way Home- WHAT DO YOU MEAN?? PETER MY CHILD OMG 😭 Fuck that I'm gonna make a character where the magic didn't work on him. Fuck u Marvel for making every Spider-man sad 😭 (Anyone wanna read that? 👀👀)

Hi hi 🍄 Anon👋, thank you so much for sharing this because I had so much fun! XD And it's not dumb I love your rambles! Let's just say that it was on a day where Ravine was thinking of the past. Problem solved😌 I hope you enjoy this and see you around 🍄 Anon👋💕 Omg same– WHAT WHO SAID THAT! Also merry christmas everybody! Hope you’re having a wonderful holiday! 💕

He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t. But that didn’t stop his reflexes from working faster than his brain. Ravine should’ve known to stay inside if he was going to be taken over with his thoughts.

Simon Ghost Riley

Ghost had been walking around the base for too long, just trying to find the giant of a man. How is it possible to not know where someone that big was? It’s not like he can hide with his size.

Or can he?

He has a feeling that Ravine can do so much more than he has already shown TF 141, and Ghost was eager to know when that would be.

Ghost blinks when he sees Ravine’s slouched body leaving the weapon room, a box under his arm with mechanical parts sticking out if and his attention stuck to the papers in his other hand.

Of course he would be working on something.

When was he not?

But Ravine was so deeply rooted inside his head, he wasn’t reading the documents or even looking at it correctly when he felt it.

Someone was behind him.

Someone-

Ravine feels his skin crawl, his mind playing tricks on him and-

Ghost feels gravity leaving him as Ravine yanks him over his shoulder. With his vision upside down, a silent gasp leaves his mouth. The air gets knocked out of his lungs as he lays on the cold ground with his hand in Ravine’s tight grip, his eyes swimming.

“Argh! Ravine, it's me!”

CRASH

Ravine drops everything as he falls to his knee, hands now softly brushing over Ghost as he sits up. He groans as he leans back on Ravine’s bent knee. Ravine twitches at the contact before lightly placing his hand on his hurt shoulder.

Ghost tilts his head towards Ravine’s chest, he can almost hear his heart beating out of his ribcage from guilt as he tries to catch his breath from being thrown around.

Despite the situation and the physical ache, Ghost finds Ravine’s reactions hilarious. (Don’t tell anyone that.)

Ravine doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know where to put his other hand as it lingers around Ghost who’s clenching and unclenching his fist, testing if it’s sprained or not by the firm grip Ravine had it a few seconds ago.

Ravine wants to leave, walk away as if he didn’t just hurt his teammate because of his wild instincts.

"What was that-"

Ghost’s shoulder aches and he blinks at the hand mark slowly forming on his wrist.

“-Bloody hell…”

Ravine tenses.

Ravine lifts Ghost up with ease, a little too much ease to the latter's taste as he hurries through the mess of fallen mechanical parts and loose documents.

He calmly walks through the base, getting Gaz and Soap’s attention as they pass the lounge. Gaz’s eyes widen while the water leaks out from Soap’s gaping mouth onto his shirt.

“What- Was that- Did…???”

“Ravine carrying Ghost? Yep definitely was them.”

Price could only stare as Ravine barges into his office with Ghost looking a little too comfortable in his arms as if he could take a nap right there and then.

The captain pulls his lips into a thin line, slowly slurping from his coffee mug as he squints his eyes at them.

“Let me guess…”

“Yes.”

“Oh boy.”

Ravine looks down at Ghost who’s leaning his head further into his chest, secretly enjoying the situation and then at Price who stares as if it’s a normal Tuesday.

Later they get told by the doctor that Ghost’s shoulder is injured due to being almost pulled out of his sockets and his wrist was now branded with Ravine’s hand for who knows how many days- weeks even.

Ravine couldn’t face Ghost for weeks- months if it wasn’t for Ghost and Price cornering him like they did the day Ghost met Ravine for the first time.

Ghost has a sense of déjà-vu.

(Sometimes brushes his hand over the purple-bluish bruise and compares his hand size with Ravines.)

John Price

It happened while they were still getting to know each other in the early days when Price found him inside that… room.

He knew he had to tread carefully with the burning man. He was like a wounded animal, cornered with nowhere to escape with his fangs bared at anything that breathed too loudly or at all.

But Price believed they had crossed over that line as Ravine didn’t react when he had to sit down in a room full of people or inside the tiny car he had to fit in to go on missions. (Price voiced out how too soon it was to send Ravine anywhere. But orders were orders.)

Ravine didn’t react to anything at all anymore. A perfect weap- soldier as Shepard liked to call him.

And so when they arrived back to base after another successful mission with Ravine making it so much easier with his fast killing and stealth, Price had only wanted to praise him for his good work.

But maybe, just maybe it wasn’t a smart idea to suddenly come up from behind him right after a tense operation-

Since Price found himself on the ground, his body having been flipped into the air like he weighed nothing as he landed with a loud ‘BANG’ echoing off the walls and on the ground.

Laswell gasped in surprise, jumping from her seat as Ravine took a step back as if realizing now what he had just done.

The gun that he had pulled out from his holster was now lowered instantly. Ravine’s body was tense, freezing still in his spot.

Price gets back on his feet, leaning slightly onto Laswell as he groans, trying to downplay the situation for Ravine.

“Shiiiiiit… You sure know how to use that strength of yours., don't you?"

Silence takes over the room before Ravine vanishes from his sight, quickly marching away from them with nothing to say. It makes Price sigh loudly.

Laswell chuckles underneath her breath. “Well that was a sight.”

“Will not happen again, so enjoy it while it lasts.” Price breathes out, hands on his hips as he bends his back forward with pain. “Damn it, I need to see the medic…I think I broke something.”

He ends up with bruised skin on his back, even fractured bones that puts him out of commission.

Price eyes the doctor, “...Well I’ll be damned.”

Price never thought that he would end up getting slammed into the ground like the enemies Ravine sometimes threw over his shoulder. Luckily for him Ravine didn’t use as much force as he did with them as they were directly knocked out of their consciousness...and then shot to death.

‘Now where is…’

It took a few months for him to finally get a real conversation with Ravine.

König

He shouldn’t be feeling like this, he really shouldn’t. But König continues to scream into his head, cheeks flared up with his thoughts stuck from the earlier occurrences.

König leaves the training facility, a towel draped over his shoulders as he makes his way to the showers to relax his muscles from the workout. Soon enough his stomach rumbles and he changes his mind of going back to his room to relax.

Rounding the corner, he sees Ravine staring through the window, his arms crossed over his chest, making his back muscle tense.

Feeling a little confident to try talking to the soldier who was just as tall as him, sticking out like a sore thumb in the team with… shorter people, König approaches the quiet man with a small smile.

“Hey Ravine.”

Surprised that the man didn’t react like he usually would when called, König tilts his head as he reaches a hand out.

“Rav-?”

A startled yelp escapes his lips, the world tilts and he finds himself staring at the swinging lights hanging from the ceiling. His body twitches uncomfortable and aches in pain as confusion swims in his eyes.

With his breath knocked out of him, shock taking over mentally and physically as Ravine slowly releases his steel grip, König tries to choke out something but he could only gasp. 

“…W-Was..?” -…W-What..?

Pain radiates through his left side but as König sees Ravine’s body loom over him, pressure withdrawn from his stomach and arms, and the realization that he had been so easily decommissioned in seconds, has left a new kind of warmth rushing through him.

König slowly rises to his feet, hand shooting up to rub his shoulder. The man stares confused when Ravine is now checking him over with what he guesses is worry, since there isn’t much to find out with his face covered and the silence in his throat.

“I-I’m fine, you just took me by surprise.”

Ravine brushes his fingers over the bruise forming on König’s wrist and König doesn’t know why he suddenly felt he should leave.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I er- I’m going to eat now. Yeah…now.”

However, with his food sitting in front of him, fork in hand, König stares silently in front of him, confusing his teammates in the dining hall and creeping others with his unblinking eyes. And just as quietly as he came he robotically goes back to his room.

That’s when he flops down on his bed, face pushed into his pillow, his face reddening when the situation with Ravine finally hits him.

Ravine had swung him over his shoulder like nothing and had pressed his knee down on his stomach, keeping him in place with his arms over his head with a grip that left handprints on him that were bruising.

König was used to being feared and manhandling others- others as in targets to eliminate- but being tossed around like a toy by someone else is-

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-’

Both were evading the other’s presence without the other’s knowledge until they were put back together for a mission.

-----------------------------------------------

@livinglifebesticanlol @jackiebluh @cumbermovels @agspgrwasb

I hope you enjoyed this! If anyone has any other imagine, scenarios, headcanon, etc. Feel free to send it to me, I love reading what you guys have in mind ❤️

[applecranberryjuice]

Something something it's a metaphor. Hair as a form of communication but also as passage of time and also as a way for letting people in and also as a detail etc etc you get it

Actual explanation in the tags btw

I'm really nervous about this comic actually, is not the best. It doesn't make sense, and the art is mid, but I put love in it and I think that's enough

[hold-him-down]

helppp I am. desperate. for River to be able to let his guard down or find comfort for even a second. the pain he must have bottled up inside won’t somebody HELP HIM oh wait they are trying and can’t get through. hahfiejfbskjdnf this keyboard smash inspired by your most recent ask game response as well as the River triage chapter

i too want to get to a spot where river can feel at ease and supported and loved and safe buttttt as of this moment i have embarked on this 'write the story in chronological order' journey that is a motherfucker for getting river to that point, because it's a little bit far out there.

trust i will not leave him hanging in misery for eternity, belleview will be as much river's story as felix's, and lets be real i'll probably give up the chronological thing soon enough and can jump right into cold-sweat nightmares and 'you're okays' and soup and berries :)

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

Just finished the show a few days ago, so that's why I'm only just posting this now.

[elisamaza]

Pizza delivery drivers of Reddit, what are some of the craziest reasons people have ended up on the “no delivery list”?

gameryamen

I worked for a pizza place that was near a very large software company. Deliveries to the neighborhoods or offices where all the tech workers lived was usually pretty awesome because they'd tip rather well. But there was one apartment that started to become a concern for us drivers. The man ordering was always polite, always paid, always tipped $4, and he would have been a perfect customer. He'd order breadsticks and a salad twice a week, and sometimes he'd include a bottle of root beer. Except when he opened his door, you could see an alarming amount of our breadsticks boxes stacked everywhere inside. Not like a few on the counter and a couple by the trash, stacks and stacks of them. Even worse, it was only our boxes in there. He wasn't just ordering from us often, we were the only place he was getting food outside of work. Now, I've worked in some of those tech offices myself, I know that there's enough decent food options just hanging out in the break rooms that this guy was probably not malnourished, but the way his living space was a shrine of greasy cardboard was a clear sign that this guy didn't have a healthy relationship with our food. Our manager was a really cool dude though, and he heard the drivers joking about the boxes and asked a couple of us "Is this like a messy guy or a guy who needs help?" We agreed it was probably the latter. So on his day off, the manager went to the guys apartment with an envelope that had gift cards for several other restaurants that delivered in that area and chatted with him. Manager found out that the guy was an immigrant on a Visa who was struggling to find American food he liked, and too socially awkward to ask anyone. So he talked with him through a few menus and helped him with some recommendations. Then he helped the guy load all the old boxes into his truck to take to the dump, in exchange for a promise not to order from us more than once a week. For a little while, the manager had a note on the calendar showing the last time the guy had ordered, and a couple times he had to hold his ground and refuse the guy's order. But after that chat, I never saw the stacks of boxes again, and the guy would boast about the different meals he'd had.

what the fuck dude, this is so sweet.

[cave-monkey]

Monkey King 2009 Episode 11

Ohhhh I really liked this one.

First, I have to say it, comparing the four generals now to Episode 1, they have come a long way. At least in regards to the tactical side of their jobs (they should still not at all be directly responsible for children). When they thought the enemy had found their camp and were closing in, they were on their shit. Marshal Ma was snapping out orders immediately, no one was contradicting anyone else or squabbling or anything, and it was definitely a Sign Of Growth.

Or the major and repeated servings of humble pie they've been swallowing recently. Active war will probably do that to you, especially when you can't blame your scapegoat for your failures after you ran him off.

Also once again showcasing their highly conditional displays of respect and goodwill. Stone Monkey pops back up with Six Ears and he's being called a "Little Hero" now, huh? You literally drove him out of the troop to his possible death and didn't care much at all not that long ago, my guys. We all saw you. You can't fool us.

And, eyyyy, Six Ears. Buddy. Bud.

Oh no.

I can see where it's coming from, is the thing. He used to be the kid pulling off the stupidly risky feats and being praised and rewarded for it. "Earning his place". The sacrificial lamb to Stone Monkey's scapegoat. Neither is a great role to be filling, but Six Ears doesn't know that, and the life of a sacrificial lamb probably still looks a whole heck of a lot better when you're looking at it from the place of the scapegoat. And now it looks like Stone Monkey's taking his place, right, and without that...where does he fit? He knows how conditional the approval of the four generals is, and at the start of the series he dealt with their hot-and-cold reception of him by flippantly ignoring it, but he did experience it. Stone Monkey has had it "worse", but Six Ears isn't so far removed from it that he can't easily imagine himself being in Stone Monkey's place, I'd think. So it's no real wonder he's territorial of his "place" in the troop, feels like the four generals', the troop's, (and possible Old Monkey King's) regard is a finite resource, and reacts badly to feeling like it's all being "stolen". Jealousy is rooted in insecurity, and Six Ears has absolute heaps of that.

And speaking of insecurity, it's also worth noting that he keeps continuously being captured and having his autonomy and ability to protect himself removed, over and over and over again, and this time he was almost tortured. By having his ears cut off while he was tied down and unable to fight back. We don't know how long it took the kids to track down the troop again, but since we're meant to assume the entirety of the surviving troop made it to the cave, the commanders would have needed to have at least enough to time to track the scattered groups down. In that case I'd imagine this is several days later at least, but still only days. Maybe a week or two at most. Six Ears probably hasn't had the time to really process what almost happened to him, but it would still be there in his head. He also, unfortunately, didn't have a whole lot of agency in his own rescue either, so that lack of control, that lack of feeling like he can keep himself safe, and shame at his own helplessness has got to be eating him alive. Take the above belief that he needs to earn his troop's support or risk losing it entirely with the fact it's very unlikely this kid has actually felt safe anytime in a very long time, not since the Demon King's incursions first really started honestly, and Six Ears is definitely not going to be doing well. So double up that insecurity and set it on fire with a heaping spoonful of desperation and you probably have Six Ears's emotional state right now.

*sigh*

He's definitely going to pull some shit, basically.

And holy cow someone actually called General Beng out on his pretentious language. General Ba was NOT having it. I actually almost kinda felt bad for General Beng. He's just trying to make his report, starts tripping over his literary references, and General Ba comes out swinging immediately. "Come ON. Do you think we have the time for you to be pulling out this grandparent talk?! SIT DOWN." And General Beng is like "):".

Like, harsh, General Ba. Fair! But dang. It wasn't the time at all, but General Beng trying to comfort himself by falling back on his quotes and poetry was actually kind of, I don't know, sad. Everyone is just really upset here. General Beng's trying to self-soothe, General Ba is lashing out, and the Marshals are...uh...dissociating back there? (Hey, actually, yeah, Marshals, why are you letting your generals struggle through delivering this very important report to the king instead of doing it for them? Or swooping in at least, when they fumble? What do you even DO?)

And I'm not 100% sure, but General Ba also seems to make a pun on General Beng's stuttering over 此乃 (fancy schmancy "this is")? Or at least that's how I read it, and it kind of made me laugh. Honestly my Chinese isn't good enough to catch most wordplay, so I could also be barking up the wrong tree entirely, in which case, don't mind me. I'm still gonna giggle at it, though. (General Beng: "This g-, uh, This g-" General Ba: "This GRANDMA.")

General Ba even liked that turn of phrase so much he repeated it again later. Poor General Beng will never be able to use his beloved 此 in General Ba's hearing ever again without having "How's it feel being a GRANDMA" yelled at him immediately.

But honestly, General Ba is pulling zero punches here. He's genuinely rattled, since he's finishing General Beng's report for him by going, "Look, fancy language or no fancy language, all I know is we took everyone to the back of the mountain and the enemy was already there. They are everywhere. We have nowhere to go and we are fucking dead." He also has this really haunted look to him. General Beng is only the first casualty. General Ba has looked death in the eyes and is going a bit feral about it. No one is safe.

Plus that one monkey soldier coming back and breaking down in tears because "the monkeys without weapons are getting the worst of it...they had to run away."

"Run away". Right.

Listen, guys. Just say they died. We understand.

I'm actually noticing this cartoon is fine with having soldiers screaming KILL THEM ALL with no hesitation, graphic death threats abound, but they don't like admitting anyone actually died. Especially not the monkeys. I think that's a bit of an odd line to draw, but I'll respect it.

(They definitely died, though. Those tears tell all. Non-combatants led around to the back of the mountain and straight to their deaths, I guess. Yikes.)

Bless Ginseng Fruit for trying to defend the boundaries in Stone Monkey's life. By creating boundaries for him without Stone Monkey's input or approval <3 "It's fine," says Ginseng Fruit. "He only needs boundaries with other people. I'm different." Godspeed you weirdly intense little fruit. Glad Stone Monkey has a handle on that, generally by means of straight up covering Ginseng Fruit's mouth and doing whatever it was he was going to do anyway. I guess if it works for them it's fine?

Also appreciated Stone Monkey leading them all to the waterfall and then his face that perfectly speaks to the fact that Stone Monkey is having the abrupt realization that his last time entering this cave was a complete accident caused by reckless use of logs and a total shattering of the laws of physics he isn't positive he can repeat. Do you think he imagined asking Marshal Ma to surf a log up the river and just crash straight into the waterfall, no, really, it'll be fine, for approximately two seconds before his brain shut down on itself in self-defense and also despair? Absolute gold.

And the writers slipping in a little reminder of the tenuous and fickle regard of the troop by having a few of the soldiers immediately ready to believe the worst of Stone Monkey right then and there. Thanks, writers. We might have forgotten.

Not gonna lie, I was looking at the Demon King's army in slight confusion wondering at some of these character designs (the artists are actually usually pretty good about using familiar character models for every crowd shot, so the new guys stood out), before I remembered that Demon King had the great idea to issue a fake decree in Heaven's name. OH, went I. HA.

I mean, I'm sure that's not going to backfire spectacularly in any way at all. Heaven probably loves having random demons lying and using their authority to stir up trouble only to then point the agitated results of their tomfoolery right to their doorstep. Everyone loves having their name dragged into a fraud case!

But also...okay, jumping topics entirely, but why couldn't anyone just jump back and grab Sixth Eldest? Any one of those guys could have made the jump there and back in half the time it took the kid to finally do it himself. Yes, of course, "but the tension!" or whatever. I call contrived. As far as I'm concerned, the only one with an excuse was the one monkey apparently responsible for handling six children by herself. What was she going to do? Toss the one baby to save the other baby? She's got her hands full.

Watching Sixth Eldest make that jump though, I was just thinking the whole time: Wow. How much would it suck to be the reason your entire community was overrun by murderous enemy forces? As it is, this kid is probably going to be hearing this story at every drunken feast for the rest of his entire life. RIP, little buddy. (I'm also counting children and if Yellow Flower Monkey has six kids to look after total, that means Sixth Eldest is the youngest. Who's the kid being held in her arms, then?! Why's the littlest kid out there toddling over sheer drops and water-slick rocks by himself while this baby gets the VIP ride? Is it...*gasp* favoritism? Yellow Flower Monkey's secret dark side?!? /j)

Old Monkey King excitedly waxing poetic about Water Curtain Cave, though? Cute. Super cute. He was incredibly excited and I don't think we've ever seen him this tickled. It was amazing.

None of the adults actually bothering with rationing until after the food was already gone, though? Less cute. They even called themselves out!

"It's better not to wait until these kind of things become a problem to sort out a solution." *sage nodding* *cut to elderly monkeys literally collapsing from hunger just down the hill* "By which I mean, it would be better, but all the food is already gone." "WHAT."

And it can't just have been gone either, since people aren't generally out here just immediately collapsing from hunger the second the the last fruit is plucked off the branch. Even if they are elderly. How long were they out of food before they had a meeting about it? Guys. I just said you were getting your shit together.

Ginseng Fruit, reading the room and dragging Stone Monkey away before he can volunteer to feed the whole troop from enemy-infested territory single-handedly, pointing a very stern finger at him: "No...nO..."

Stone Monkey: UGH. I KNOW. I wasn't GOING-

*aforementioned collapsing elders and Yellow Flower Monkey (again)*

Stone Monkey: ...to WAIT. Off I go, I guess! See you later, Ginseng Fruit. Hold down the fort while I'm gone, okay?

Ginseng Fruit is over here running their hands down their face shaking and screaming violently on the inside, I bet. If they'd seen that elder go down before Stone Monkey did, they absolutely would have buried the poor man alive, I'm sure. Like shoving a mess you don't want your guests to see in the closet. Except with a living person. And mounds of cold, wet Earth reminiscent of a shallow grave. Look, all's fair in love (/platonic) and Not Letting Your Favorite Person Die For The People Who Left Him To Die Regardless Of His Feelings On The Matter war. Sorry, old man. Nothing personal. (I do not actually think they would have done this, but I do think it would have crossed their mind. Let Ginseng Fruit be a little unhinged. It's funny.)

On a sidenote, gotta appreciate the old man for apparently recognizing their limited food supply well in advance of anyone else and taking care to make sure the young got what they could while they could. What a guy. I like that guy.

Six Ears...definitely has ulterior motives for going with Stone Monkey, but also this is still the kid who took it upon himself to hunt Stone Monkey down every time he took off by himself on dangerous missions in the past too, so him going through the old song and dance of noticing Stone Monkey was just straight gone without a word halfway through a conversation (Stone Monkey will never outgrow that, will he? Lol) and knowing from experience that Stone Monkey was definitely off to Solve The Problem and promptly running after him is basically their old dynamic in its entirety.

It's just...sad now. Because Six Ears is definitely going to be making some bad choices and do something that's going to hurt because he's hurting and it's going to suck and I don't wanna see it. And meanwhile Stone Monkey's just happy to have Six Ears with him.

I love them ):

Stone Monkey actually noticing Six Ears being kind of subdued once they're out of the cave, though! My boy! He never does that! Or at least, that's how I interpreted it since there's an animation of him jumping up to walk next to Six Ears, who is frowning at the ground, and the animation has him glance sideways at him, look away, glance sideways again, and then away again. And he's also frowning the same way. They did that on purpose! Tell me Stone Monkey isn't noticing something.

But of course they're interrupted before it can go anywhere. Ergh.