#but it should tell you what's been going down in wasteland

[rebelliousstories]

Vaultie

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @silverose365

Warnings: Angst, Strong Language, Fluff, Allusions to Cannibalism

Word Count: 2,119

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: If Cooper Howard had a nickel for every time he came across an escaped vault dweller looking to find her father and to change the world…

The sight of the blue Vault-Tec wandering through the Wasteland made The Ghoul let out a low growl. How many of these people were going to be popping up? He watched her wander around, trying to talk to some people, but they had just turned her away at the first sight of blue. She was not much different than the other Vaultie he had come across. Same kind of naive look in her eyes, along with hope. Hope was a commodity up here. Just as he was finishing up his last drink at the one bar within a hundred miles that would actually take his caps, this vault dweller strolled right on up to him.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you were interested in a trade.” She pitched, shoulders back and a determined look on her face.

“Sorry darlin’, not interested in a whore tonight.” Howard spoke with a low drawl. He got great joy of seeing the appalled look on the vault girl’s face.

“Oh, I’m not a- that’s, that’s not what I was offering. I was wondering if you could tell me how to get to this location. I have caps.” Pulling a piece of paper from her suit, she procured a pencil as well from a separate pouch. She put those items in one hand, and she wrestled with a bag on her hip that Cooper could hear the clanking of bottle caps coming from. The paper and pencil were set down in front of the ghoul, and she got her caps ready to give away. He grabbed the paper from the table and eyed her wearily as he read the address.

“Now what’s a vault dweller like you,” he gestured to her, “doing in a place like this,” motioning to their surroundings, “and looking for a place like this?” He finished by holding up the paper.

“I’m looking into Vault-Tec. The experiment they were running in my vault, it was barbaric to say the least. And when I found out things that I should not have, I escaped to here. The people down there, they don’t know any different than their life that has been played with and manipulated.” She explained, sitting down in the chair across from The Ghoul.

“Well, that is some might fine ideas. Afraid it won’t get you nowhere up here. Every few years, someone has a great idea to save the world. But it’s just a load of horseshit.” Cooper went on, fiddling with the paper in his hands.

“Look, I don’t particularly care about that. I’m on my own mission, and I need help to navigate this place. Now, what do you say? Fifty caps for directions on how to get there?” This Vaultie was testing his patience, but fifty caps is fifty caps. Without a word, Cooper wrote down on the piece of paper all the directions she would need. After that it was up to her to interpret and follow them.

“The caps?” He held out his hand while holding back the paper. Once the bottle caps were placed n his grasp, he counted them quickly, before handing over the paper and pencil to the Vaultie. But when she leaned in close, that is when he saw it. Words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them.

“I didn’t catch your name, darlin’.” Cooper prompted, tugging back the paper at the last second before she could grasp it.

“I didn’t throw it. May I please have my paper and pencil back?” She tried one more time to swipe them, but Cooper was faster than she was.

“Be warned now. You go lookin’ into Vault-Tec, you probably not gonna like what you find. It’s a whole mess of an operation.” He stated, low and slow. There was something about this girl in front of him that he just could not put his finger on.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m going to find out what they’re doing, and expose them.” Finally, she was able to get her hands on the paper and pencil in his other hand. She stood from the table, and turned to to leave when something that Cooper said caught her attention.

“You never know who is gonna be the one behind the shitstorm. Could be someone close to you. I don’t think your mind can handle the truth once you find it out, Vaultie.” Her face was thick with confusion, and then it was full of fury.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think I can and can’t handle. And I don’t know what kind of grudge you hold against us, but I couldn’t really care less. Besides, you took my caps so surely you can’t hate me that much.” And with that, she made her way out of the bar, and into the sweltering day ahead.

Cooper sat in that bar for a good long while nursing his final drink. This vault dweller was certainly different than the previous one. She could hold her own but to what end? Surely, she was not going to last long in the Wasteland. Downing the rest of the liquor, he threw some caps on to the table, pocketed the rest and set out. It was not hard for him to find her; the tracks in the sand making it easy. But he kept a distance from her, and made sure she never knew he was there.

As they traveled, Cooper saw less and less of a vault dweller, and more of a surface dweller in her. The way she negotiated, carried herself, and overall acted; you would never be able to tell she came from a vault had it not been for that blue jumpsuit. He never intervened, always waiting on the sidelines. But he did keep an eye on this determined vault dweller. The scariest part of her journey was when they came across fiends.

“Hello, little lady. What are you doin’ out here?” A man leered at her, crowding her against the side of the building that Cooper had hid behind. He watched intently, waiting to see if he would need to intervene.

“I’m just passing through. Excuse me.” She tried to move past the man, but he shoved her back. Another fiend came around to crowd her in, and another, and another, and another. She was outnumbered five to one, and was looking around in a desperate attempt to find an opening. Cooper moved his duster back and had his hand on his pistol, ready to dispatch of these men. However, that thought made him pause. What was he doing following this girl on her journey? Maybe that other vault dweller was making him soft. No, it could not be.

“Oh, she’s got manners. That’s a real sweet thing to come out of your mouth. Hopefully the rest of you is that sweet.” The leader made a move to grab her, and Cooper was ready to draw his pistol when a shot rang out.

The lead fiend dropped to the ground dead. Her gun was still smoking, and she wasted no time in shooting the four other men who tried to touch her again. By the end, she was splattered with blood and breathing heavily. She began to loot through their bodies while Cooper moved further back in the shadows. He tried to make no noise, but a rock slipped from under his feet and made the Vaultie’s head whip around to where he was standing. There was a beat of silence, but she turned back to her task at hand when she did not hear anything else.

From then on, Cooper had no reason not to trust that she could handle herself. It had been so long that he had cared for anyone other than himself. The feeling was so foreign now, but it crept in without his say so. The unknowing duo walked for days and days, until finally their destination came into view. The broken, and abandoned building stood tall even with all thee destruction around it. She made her way in, but Cooper remained outside. The Ghoul found the shadiest spot alongside the building, and stopped for a rest and water.

The vault dweller began to look around the decrepit building, finding the floor where Vault-Tec records were held, and began to climb the stairs. There was nothing stopping her now; she could see the finish line. Once she was inside the Vault-Tec office, she Egan rifling through the files on the desks. What she found, astounded her.

Hundreds of vaults, and their subsequent experiments. The depth of human depravity never ceased to amaze her. While the description of her vault made her angry, the others made her blood boil. Human lives treated like lab rats in a sick and twisted experiment for society’s so called betterment. Stowing the files in her bag, she began to look around for information from before the vaults. Files detailing how they would get people down into those vaults that they created were littered about. But the more she read, the more the was enraged. However, there was one file that caught her attention.

Pages that described the bombings in great detail, dated hundreds of years ago. And she read through everyone. She was losing daylight, but she needed to read through everything. Her eyes scanned hundreds of words, and was trying to process everything when she finally go to the page that was used as the sign off sheets for the bombings. When she read the names of those who signed off, her heart dropped. The file slipped out of her hand, and there was no feeling left in her body.

Her father signed off on these bombs.

It took a while for the feeling to return to her limbs. When it finally all hit her, a scream tore through her vocal chords before she could stop it. All the pent up emotions and memories that now felt scarred; it was all coming out now. She calmed herself down, and snatched the file from the ground. As much as she hated it, she knew it was going to be important. There was no way around it if she wanted to help the people in the vaults.

Making her way back outside the building, the sunset ahead was painting the sky in a brilliant red with streaks of purple and orange. She went to turn the side of the building and was met with The Ghoul that had first helped her with the directions that led her here. He was leaning against the building, but was quick to stand up straight when he heard her round the corner. His undead heart broke just a little bit when he saw the broke look on her face. It was so different to the determined face that she held, even in the times that she should have been scared out of her wits.

“You alright there, Vaultie?” His tone was laced with concern that was not normal anymore. Cooper stepped closer, opened his arms, and brought her in close. She tried to fight, but her arms felt weak even to her as she tried to hit the ghoul before her. Her punches did not even make a dent in the man, but he let her get all of her frustration out before he knew the inevitable drop. And drop she did. Once her energy and anger were exhausted, her legs gave way and she collapsed in Cooper.

“Calm down there, darlin’. You’re alright now. The pain’ll go away soon.” He comforted the girl in his arms.

“Did you know?” She whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Yes.” He replied.

“I know it stings, darlin’. I warned you not to go lookin’. Knew you wouldn’t like what you found.” Howard continued, now stroking his gloved hand over her hair.

“But I needed to. I need to know what is going on. It’s so sheltered down there, and people are so naive. They deserve to know,” came her soft cry. It broke his heart even further apart.

“You’re doin’ a very selfless thing here. You’re gonna be alright though. Already survived bein’ up here for this long. You’ll make it up here Vaultie.” It was comforting to hear such kind words after being on the surface and away from home for so long.

All the girl did was nod into The Ghoul’s chest. She was going to be fine, and she was going to help the people in the vaults. Her mind was alright made up; she was no longer going to be a vault dweller and apart of their twisted system. She was now a surface dweller, and really needed to get rid of her jumpsuit.

#rebelliousstories #writing #cooper the ghoul howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout imagine #fallout

[trek-tracks]

Imagine this. You're Spock. You've tried not to get yourself emotionally involved with your crewmates. It's not going very well. Your doctor goes and contracts a terminal illness and doesn't tell you (but luckily your captain can't go three seconds without breaking Space HIPAA or whatever exists in the future) and then tries to run away and die on an asteroid. You take out the Instrument of Obedience, privately thinking that it would be nice to have some control over this maniac you somehow care about's actions. You spend Surak knows how much time downloading and translating an entire civilization's medical library to cure him. No problem. It was just an incurable disease. You didn't need to sleep this month.

Two episodes later, another alien civilization tries to check said doctor out like he's a library book and then writes "withdrawn" on his forehead and pretends they don't have to give him back. He tells you to leave to save yourself; he'll stay. Did you mention you decoded an entire medical archive like two weeks ago for---fine. You go through unspeakable emotional violations to put him back into circulation on the Enterprise. It's cool. You didn't need your dignity anyway.

Two episodes after that, your illogical, self-sacrificial doctor mutinies and sedates you--the ranking officer in charge--undoing the fact that, again, how many hours did you spend? Curing an incurable illness because you couldn't let him die? Singing like an idiot in front of a bunch of snickering Platonians with laurel leaves on your head and no pants to speak of?--so he can get himself tortured to death on your behalf. You convince an empath to save him. He pushes her away because he "can't destroy life." Your captain is crying. The shiny force field shows everyone that you're having very non-shiny emotions. Do Vulcans even believe in hell

You think you've finally reached some sort of sacrificial detente. It's been a while. Neither of you have died on the other's behalf. You've both had to save your captain a few times, but that's normal. All in a day's work. Then said captain wants all three of you to check out a mysteriously abandoned library of time periods. You should have figured you would wind up in some sort of frozen wasteland with your doctor and no perceivable way to return what you'd borrowed. Well. At least there's the two of you so that you can keep an eye on--

He falls down in the snow. His hands are blue. "Go on without me," he says, dramatically. "Alone, you have a chance."

yeah I'd strangle that fucker against a cave wall too

#star trek #star trek tos #leonard mccoy #spock #spones #bones mccoy #jim kirk #captain kirk #for the world is hollow and I have touched the sky #plato's stepchildren #the empath #all our yesterdays #spock: STOP TRYING TO DIE OR I'LL KILL YOU

[amazinglyegg]

hi!! i want to say i love ur blog sm. its amazing and one of my fav blogs.

i have a hc where sole picks up children’s toys, teddy bears, jangles the moon monkey, and giddy up buttercups while walking thru the wasteland looking for shaun. could u write a react for fo4 companions asking why they pick up “that junk” vs their reactions after finding out the reason why?

Thank you so much!! And this is the most adorable headcanon ever, I love it <3<3<3 I can only imagine how hard it'd be for Sole to constantly see all the toys they was planning to get Shaun for Christmas all broken down and rusted. Plus not even knowing if he's alive or if he would like any of them anymore... augh my heart </3

Companions react: Sole who collects toys for Shaun

Ada

She doesn't even bat an eye when Sole goes around picking up every toy they see

Sole probably only tells her the truth once they overhear Ada calling it scrap

After that Ada will make very sure she doesn't scrap any toys she finds and instead leaves them in a nice pile for Sole to sort through and keep any they want

Might even find it hard to scrap the toys Sole doesn't want (because they're too broken or unsalvagable)

She definitely gets wanting to keep something to remember someone by, and seeing Sole do this might just convince her to keep a transitional object that reminds her of Jackson

Cait

Cait immediately feels like crap for complaining so much

Not only because she kept complaining about Sole's habit, but she had definitely made comments on how dumb and boring the toys are in the past

She doesn't really get it since she's not a parent (and never wants to be), but she still feels like she should have realized it sooner

It also hits a bit close to home for her because she never really had many toys as a kid, so realizing Sole cares about Shaun so much they're constantly looking for trinkets for him is almost unreal to her

She'll probably not say much about it for that reason, too awkward and vaguely in disbelief that parents actually do that for their kids for her to make any comments

Codsworth

Oh he is SO supportive of Sole

Even before Sole tells him they're for Shaun he's pointing out how much Shaun would love them

Probably has Sole's Christmas list for Shaun still stored in his memory (because let's be honest Sole was definitely obsessing over their baby's first Christmas back in October) so he'll point out whenever they find a toy that was on the list

He'll probably go out of his way to grab any toys he sees for Shaun as well

Shaun's bedroom is going to be PACKED with toys before he even gets out of the Institute

Curie

Definitely more curious than frusturated with Sole picking up toys

Might push Sole too hard for an answer at first, but realizes her mistake and apologizes when Sole tells her the truth

I can imagine her having wildly different reactions on it, especially while she's getting used to emotions

One day she's going "but Shaun already has three blankets, no?" and the next day she's crying at the sight of a broken teddy bear

Grief is such a big emotion for Curie and she's so empathetic she's 100% going to be more weepy than Sole is a lot of the time

Danse

Sort of stuck when Sole tells him why they collect toys

On one hand it's his job to tell Sole to drop down the unnecessary stuff and travel light... but on the other hand... they're grieving

So as much as he wants to complain, he probably won't

He gets this is Sole's way of coping and whatnot but he's never been too good at empathy in general, so he won't really know what to say

He definitely won't bother Sole about it, but he will also just kinda ignore it

If him and Sole are close he might (rarely) bring them a toy in good condition he found (he's a scavenger at heart, of course he'll be looking for those things)

Deacon

Probably one of the most initially annoyed companions in this list

He hates kids and everything to do with them so before finding out he'd make plenty of half-jokes half-complaining jabs at how much the kids toys suck

Every time Sole picked up another toy Deacon's saying "Why did they have to make that face so weird?" "Did kids really play with this crap?" "If Santa got me THAT as a gift Christmas would be ruined forever!"

But once Sole tells him the truth he feels like a major asshole

He's another emotionally stunted man who won't know what to say!

He'll mostly ignore it and look the other way, but he'll also sometimes offer to carry the toys for Sole if their pack is too full

It's the least he can do after being so rude to them

Father

He definitely felt Something when Sole told him that fact (sympathy?? Longing?? Who knows)

The fact that he never left Sole's thoughts even while they were struggling to survive in the wastes means a lot to him (he has parent issues okay?)

Gets a bit weirded out if they still insist on gathering toys and giving them to synth Shaun

Like... he's a robot... he doesn't play with toys... why are you grieving me when I'm right here (he's also very emotionally stunted. Unsurprisingly)

Generally not too empathetic about it, and will definitely comment on it if Sole tries bringing dirty/broken toys into the Institute

Gage

Least likely to back down and apologize like the other companions after Sole admits the truth

Probably takes the realist approach of "There's toys everywhere... why can't you just wait until you actually find Shaun and then bring him to an old toy store or something?"

Will be a lot easier on them once he knows the truth though

It's just weird when they're surrounded by toys everywhere. They're literally in an amusement park. Can't Sole just bring Shaun there once they get him??

He's also a bit worried about Sole seeming like a softie, or trying to leave Nuka World once they get their kid back

A toy car or a deck of cards is fine, but you are NOT parading a five foot tall teddy bear around Nuka World. Gage will put his foot down for that one

Hancock

He'll probably only get annoyed with Sole's collection if it manages to get in the way of their work

He has always found childrens toys creepy... he's pretty thankful not many kids wander around Goodneighbor for that reason

Once he finds out the truth his demeanor will change from mild annoyance to "you know what? You do you"

He'll probably find an old tire or something and go "You think Shaun would like this??"

He doesn't know what kids like!! Especially old world kids. When he was a kid he would have been entertained for HOURS with just a stick... why wouldn't Shaun??

Either way, he lets Sole go do whatever they want to do. He won't judge as long as he doesn't have to look at Jangles for any longer than necessary

Maccready

Feels like a complete asshole for not connecting it together sooner

Childrens toys, missing child... how did he not SEE that

Hell, HE grabs little toys for Duncan every once in a while. Obviously he can't judge

He might be a tiny bit salty though

He's had to teach himself to not pick up every toy he thinks Duncan would want because he simply can't send them all to him, so seeing Sole constantly fawn over plushies and trinkets... just kinda hurts knowing he can't do the same at the moment

That being said if he finds something he wants to give to Duncan but can't, he'll give it to Sole instead

Ends up being a pretty good system for them both

Nick Valentine

Out of all of the companions he'd be best at emotional support

He'll sincerely apologizes for bugging Sole about the "junk" they've been lugging around and will reassure them that Shaun would love it

He still remembers which toys were popular at the time and will talk to Sole about it whenever they find one

Catch him and Sole repeating commercial jingles back and forth

He gives them a lot of space to grieve and never complains about all the toys once he finds out who they're for

He doesn't shy away from gently putting his foot down if Sole gets a bit ridiculous, but he does so very, very gently

Like "Hey, that teddy is in tatters. How about we find one that's a bit more... huggable?" or "Shaun doesn't need two Giddyup Buttercups, but if you're okay for it I know a little girl in Diamond City who's been begging for one all year"

Old Longfellow

Aw hell, why not?

Definitely empathizes with them

He feels bad for Sole once he learns the truth so he's perfectly happy to just shut up and let Sole do whatever they need to do to grieve

He's also not really a toy person so he doesn't get it

Like "you think your kid would like THAT??"

But whatever. Sole knows their own kid better than he knows them. If Shaun gets traumatized by seeing Jangles the moon monkey, that's Sole's fault

Piper

Likely to take an "aww, that's sweet" approach to things

Similar to Hancock in that she... doesn't really get it??

Like who needs all these old toys most people don't know how to play with?? Nat played with a rock and a loose piece of string when she was little and she was just fine

Tries to show enthusiasm but ends up going wayy off the mark

She grabs a Barbie doll and says "wouldn't Shaun like this?? He can... I don't know... brush her hair??"

"Shaun would love this!" "Piper that's a mechanical keyboard... with no computer" "Well maybe Shaun would like pretending to write stories!"

Preston

Straight up apologizes for being so harsh to Sole

He didn't need to be so rude about Sole picking up toys. It's their backpack, they can fill it with whatever they want

Appreciates what Sole's doing and will make sure the kids in any settlements don't touch Shaun's toys

He's pretty curious what a lot of toys actually do. He'll ask Sole things like "so do kids... just... sit on the Giddyup Buttercup? And do nothing else??"

Will offer to carry some toys or have caravans bring them back to settlements if they're too much for Sole to carry

X6-88

(assuming Sole's either keeping the toys for themself or wants to give them to synth!Shaun)

Doesn't get it

Father is right there?? Why are you grieving his childhood and focusing on a synth instead of being proud of his achievements??

Going into headcanon territory here but I assume the Institute probably makes toys for (the scientist's) kids to play with already

Not to mention the Institute is pretty anti-clutter, and Shaun doesn't "need" toys to begin with

He just can't wrap his head around why Sole feels the need to hoard a bunch of old broken toys when good ones are in the Institute already

If Sole just insists on keeping the toys in the old nursery he'll be a bit annoyed but won't show it (gotta respect the future director and all)

#its been a hot minute since ive made one of these and ive MISSED IT <3 #i hope none of the characters are too ooc??? #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #companions react #ada #cait #codsworth #curie #paladin danse #deacon #father #porter gage #john hancock #maccready #nick valentine #old longfellow #piper wright #preston garvey #x6 88 #synth shaun #sole survivor

[wannab-urs]

Ouroboros

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: You and Dave are two people with nothing left in the world but each other. You find each other starving, desperate, violent. WC: ~1200

Content/Warnings: Love as consumption, but it’s not quite love; oral f!receiving, unprotected PIV (do better!), blood, biting, really violent metaphors and similes, scratching, pinning, choking, marking, idk rough sex in general, everyone involved is emotionally unavailable and sad.

A/N: This is inspired by a blurb I wrote on violent expressions of love/love as consumption. I haven't written anything quite like this before so I guess lmk if you'd like a part two! Thanks to @atinylittlepain, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @gasolinerainbowpuddles, @amanitacowboy, @beskarandblasters, and @theywhowriteandknowthings for listening to me yell about it for two days and helping me along <3

Dave York Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

I want to tell you a story / of snakes eating / their own tails, Swallowing themselves whole. I hope / you can guess that this story Is about love / and what people will do / to get a taste of it --@twinnedpeaks

Dave has lost everything. You can tell just by looking at him. There’s a desolation in his eyes like none you’ve ever seen before save looking in the mirror. You are so empty. There is something you both lack and the absence of it has left you starving. Something not quite right with you. Born without it maybe, or maybe it was taken by force. 

You’re both so empty that when you’re together it’s like you take turns trying to fill yourselves up with each other, but you’re only ever left hungrier than you were before. Desperate for the taste of each other. You bleed when he touches you, pour it into his mouth and down his throat, but it never makes him less ravenous. 

You let him dig teeth and claws into your chest, tear into the cavern where your heart should be. Someone said if you get hungry enough you’ll eat your own heart, and maybe that’s why there’s not enough of you for him to get his fill. 

He says you belong here, never with him, but here, in the wasteland of his arms. He says you tear the flesh from his bones. He asks how he could love you when he has no love to give even as he buries himself inside you, settles under your skin. 

You’re both too afraid to hang on to each other, though you leave claw marks in the letting go. Part of you wants to love him, but in loving him you would undoubtedly lose yourself. 

You yearn for a love that doesn’t exist. Where claws sinking into flesh, sharp and scathing, ripping organs from your body, tearing you apart at the seams so you can be remade into something new doesn’t result in the utter destruction of self. A love that’s all consuming and desperate and violent but that still feels like a home you can settle into. 

And the yearning is another type of hunger. Just another thing you lack. All the things you lack enough to form a hill you will probably die on someday. How can the absence of something be such a heavy weight to carry? You want to settle some of it on his broad shoulders, but you don’t know how to give away what you don’t have. You give him yourself instead. 

He wraps your thighs around his head and settles in to feast on you, tongue delving deep inside and curved nose grinding into your clit. He eats you as if he’s trying to find a way in. You gouge his shoulders, raking up his neck and into his hair. You revel in his flesh caught under your nails, something of him you can take with you. He groans and it vibrates your bones. 

You pull him closer, something like pleasure coursing through your veins, you think. It’s been so long since something felt good you aren’t sure this is what it feels like. But it feels like something and you crave something. The something settles low in your belly, coils like a snake, and strikes. Dave drinks you down, consuming everything you give him, and when he peers up at you from between your legs his eyes are still full of a dark hunger. 

He drags his mouth up your body as though he can’t bear the thought of your taste leaving his mouth. Sinks teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and you swear you hear them clack through your skin. You yank his head away from you by the hair he has let curl at the nape of his neck, and he snarls, his mouth tinged red with you. 

You surge up into him, crash your mouths together hard enough to split lips and you swallow, taking blood and spit and slick on your tongue and he sucks it back onto his. He settles fully between your legs, not breaking his mouth away from yours as he pushes your thighs into your chest. You let him fold you in half, his hands settling into the mattress and keeping you spread wide for him.

He buries his face in your neck, bites down, and snaps his hips into you, both of you grunting at the force. He splits you open at your core, soothes that hollow ache of emptiness, filling you to the brim. All you think or feel or see is Dave. The planes of his back shifting and sheened with sweat as he ruts into you, the shining red streaks on his shoulders a beautiful contrast to golden skin. You dig the nails of your left hand into his asscheek, pulling him into you even harder. Settle your right hand in a fist in his hair and twist and he growls in your ear. 

He sits back on his heels, grabs your hands and pins them to the bed. The bones in your wrists shift pleasantly painfully (what’s the difference?) as he settles his weight forward. You wrap your legs around his torso and pull him back to you, emptiness for even a moment too much to bear. You latch your teeth into the muscle of Dave’s forearm and he lets go of your wrist only to wrap your throat in his long fingers and squeeze. 

There’s something so intimate about your life being held in the palm of someone’s hand. There’s something so violent about him, burrowed deep, always lingering beneath the surface. There’s something so reassuring knowing he is entirely capable of snuffing your life out right here, but he won’t. Not because you are some precious thing, but because he needs you as badly as you need him. 

You are near silent, coming with a desperate gasp for air you aren’t able to pull in and he follows you. He too is a vessel with a crack somewhere near the middle, unable to hold anything inside for long, and he is pouring himself into you, hoping you will hold what he gives you. You shudder around him, grasping at his fingers around your throat not to pull him away, but to push him in harder. 

He tears his hand away first, then the rest of himself, landing on the mattress next to you and no longer touching you. The after always sending him reeling from you as though your skin burns him. Maybe it does. You head to the bathroom to clean yourself up while he berates himself for coming back here. 

In the mirror you’re a vision of blooming purple and searing red. Throat, shoulder, wrists, thighs, cunt, all marked and aching. You’ll feel him for the days it will take him to fall back into your bed and just as he fades from your skin he will knock on your door. 

When you return to the bed, Dave is on his back, hands folded on his chest like a corpse at his visitation service. You lie beside him, upper arms pressed together as you mirror his pose. 

“Are you staying?”

He makes a noncommittal noise, a yes and a no, but grabs your arm and pulls you into him anyway. You wrap around him, an arm and a leg thrown across his body. You press your lips to a mark on his chest you don’t remember making. He traces patterns on your naked back and sighs. 

“I want to, I think.”

---------

Thanks for reading!! I have a general idea for a part two if it would interest anyone :) And sorry to the people I was supposed to write requests for... this wouldn't get out of my head.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Dave York #Dave York fics #Dave York fanfiction #Dave York x reader #Dave York x f!reader #Dave York x you #Equalizer 2 #Equalizer 2 fanfiction #PPCU #PPCU fanfiction #pedrostories

[probablynoposts]

MC figuring out their home is destroyed pt.3

Here's part 3! Thank you guys for all the support! Lots of dialogue, like seriously, sorry. Taglist at the bottom!

angst, ooc characters(?), slight swearing(one word), mc/yuu x dormleaders(kind of), part 1, part 2, part 4?, masterlist

______________________________________________________________

At Ramshackle, Crowely knocks on the door

"Can't you just unlock the door?" Leona asks, he says it in a tone like he threatening to leave if Crowley doesn't go quicker.

"It would be rude to barge into her house." Crowely tells them.

"Don't you mean dorm?" Azul questions.

"That's what I said."

"No it's not."

"Yes, it is-"

Azul goes silent as he hears the door creak open. You're there, rubbing your eyes.

"What now Crowely?..." you go silent as you see your fellow dorm leaders. Crowely's face seems to be a mixture of of nervousness and another emotion you can't quite pinpoint. Guilt? Relief? You can't say. "Why are you guys here?" you ask them, there is slight hostility in your voice.

"Well-" "I was so worried!"

Kalim throws himself onto you. "I was so scared! No student had seen you in days and no one told us anything!" Kalim hugs you as he speaks.

"Speaking of which," Riddle interjects, "what happened?" Despite his seemingly angry tone, there's worry in his voice.

"Nothing happened."

"Well something must have or else you wouldn't be here. You would be back in your world."

"It doesn't matter. Not to you anyway." you mutter that last part, but Leona still hears you.

"Actually it does, if your missing classes and not showing up for school events. It does matter." Leona says to you.

"He's right."

You look at your friends, eyeing each one of them. "I appreciate your worries but I just want you guys to leave me alone."

"We're just worried about you!"

Everyone then starts talking over each other except for you and Crowley. He's standing to the side, regretting taking the dorm leaders with him to see you. Ugh, this is making my head hurt. "Can you guys SHUT UP!?" Everyone goes quiet, they're not used to you yelling like that.

"[Y/N] calm down."

"No Vil! You don't get to tell me to calm down! I've been having a bad week, and now I have to give excuses for you guys to get off my ass!"

They're all quiet for second.

"It's just..it seemed like you wanted to go home..so bad." It's Idia, speaking softly, yet speaking here in person nonetheless. Everyone's surprised he spoke up.

"Yes, what happened?" Malleus now talks, softness in his voice. "We just want to know what's going on and why you aren't going home or possibly, couldn't go home."

You're silent for a bit. "It's not that I couldn't go home exactly.." you pause, wondering if you should tell them. Your voice starts trembling, "I just don't have a home I could go back to..."

Thoughts are whirling in your head.

"What do you mean? Like your family doesn't want you back or-"

"No." you interrupt. "I told you, you wouldn't get it." You try to keep your composure. "My world is....destroyed, when I visited it, i-it was a wasteland." You didn't even know you were crying until your vision blurred from tears. "T-There was n-nothing left." hiccups then start interrupting your sentence, "E-Even hic my f-family.." you couldn't finish your sentence.

A moment passes.

Kalim hugs you again, more softly than before. You fell to your knees, hugging and crying into Kalim's chest. At first, no one else moved. Then Malleus crouches on the ground and hugs you as well. Over the next few minutes all of the dorm leaders comfort you, it being them hugging you or saying reassurances or both. But with them here, deep down, you know you'll be okay.

______________________________________________________________

I don't plan on doing anymore parts of this but you can request(in comments or request page) for scenarios that take place in this AU after this takes place. Or I can make a part four if given enough material. Seriously though, thank you!

[taglist]: @naroshinozaki @animesimpanon @starriwonderland @jumiver @thedianaclark @younganarchist

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twstx reader #twst oneshot #twst crowley #twst angst #crowley #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland angst #twst nrc #nrc #night raven college #nrc staff #oneshot #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst #idk what im doing #part 3 #angst #twst x yuu #yuu #mc

[sombrashe]

i love ur blog!! it would be super cool if u did a norm x reader but the reader is like a wastelander/from the wastelands or something like that!!

content fluff, first kiss :3, both reader and norm are weird little things he's just more sexually inclined, gn!reader, chubby!reader

note(s) thank you so much for the kind words ;-; i hope you enjoy this !!

It's been three weeks since you joined the rag-tag group. Two vault dwellers, a ghoul, an ex-BOS member, and a wasterlander. Sounds like the beginning to one of The Ghoul's bad jokes. He calls them dad jokes but since over half of you didn't have a dad the idea was lost to the sand. Plopping down you go through your nearly empty pack.

"I think me and The Ghoul should go on a supply run."

Your voice rose to speak over the horrid wind pelting small clouds of sand into the side of the burnt-out husk of a house. Everyone looks you over and immediately starts speaking over each other to argue about the dangers of leaving into the storm. Raising a hand you let out a short shout to gain attention which works wonders.

"I've lived in this desert all my life I know how to keep sand away from my skin, I'll be fine. The Ghoul is pretty much unkillable. We need food. My pack is empty."

You try to sound reasonable. It's been days of your group being holed up in this shithole and honestly, you wanted out of there even for a little. As close as you have grown to each member of the group you barely have any time to yourself anymore.

"What if you get lost?"

"It's a small neighborhood, I'll be fine. I promise."

"You can't promise that and you know it."

Norm's voice chastises you despite his face hiding his true concern. You knew he just wanted what was best for you. Him being the one person you opened up to the most. His easygoing attitude and similar resting face made it nice to tell him about any worries. And you had a lot especially living on the surface. Something he was slowly becoming accustomed to.

"Why not take one of us instead?"

Lucy speaks up. Her eyes search your face, hoping you'll change your mind.

"The only one I would be willing to take is Max, but he's out of commission."

You point to his leg which sits propped on a toppled bookshelf. Trying to save Lucy from a radscorpion cost him a rolled ankle.

"The Ghoul is no-nonsense, he'll get us in and out, and if he doesn't... I'm sure youse guys can win a 4 v 1."

You give a wide smile showing them that you mean what you say. You just wanted to get this over with. You've been thinking about this for hours now. Watching as your already small assortment of supplies dwindled.

"Please, just let us go."

"Don't I get a say in this sweetheart?"

"No. You want 'ta find their dad as much as the rest of us. Not me, I'm here for all the warm company."

You roll your eyes and sling your pack over your shoulder. Norm stands just as quick nearly shoving you over in the process. You steady yourself against his bicep. Only for a second before you yank your hand back as a warm heat burns your cheeks. You walk around the room collecting anything you might need. An extra pair of pants wrap around your face. Nice and snug according to Lucy. Making eye contact with Norm you feel the need to look away. His eyes are so expressive and they're begging you to stay. You go to give him an awkward hug hoping to make the feeling in your stomach go away. He doesn't bite and gently untangles the fabric from around your jaw. Your goggles skew your peripheral but you know everyone is staring. You can't hear the mumbling as he leans forward. You can't even hear the wind whipping broken glass into the side of your hideout. You struggle to hear anything over the roaring of blood rushing to flood your head. Especially when his lips connect with yours. You lived a hard life and went through unimaginable pain, but this kiss, even for a moment, made you forget everything and everyone. His lips were so soft a stark contrast to the sharp broken skin of your own. Your hands lay limp at your side as you attempt to kiss back. This was all quite foreign to you but you wanted to make it work. Needed to make it work. Deep down.

"Come back to us. To me, please." He whispers directly against your lips.

Reaching up he ignores Lucy's inquisitive eyes as he gathers the untangled mess of denim. Slowly he affixes it back together and into a tight shield against the elements. He gives your cheek one quick squeeze through the thick layer. You thank the cover because you couldn't stand letting everyone see your grin even if Norm picked up on your eyes crinkling. Turning around you opt to look at the floor as you walk over to the strong oak door. Luckily the wood stayed mostly strong for these past 200-odd years with only a corner piece missing. Flinging the door open you call back to The Ghoul to hurry up as you disappear into the screaming darkness.

#fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #norm maclean #norm maclean x reader #sombrashe writes

[thelampisaflashlight]

Pick Me Up pt. 1

[Semi-based on this little comic I did a year ago that people have been reblogging again recently. Dew hurts his back during practice, and Rain is a lot stronger than he looks.] Below the cut.

Despite what others might tell you, Dew has never found his height to be an issue while living on the surface. In fact, he rather likes the size of his vessel; Not quite so small that he is inconvenienced by it, and not so tall that his back need be kept perpetually hunched over indoors.

Sure, he wishes he was a little taller, maybe an inch... or four... so he didn't look so incredibly petit beside the other male ghouls, but it's fine.

He's fine.

Doesn't have a complex about it at all.

It's not like he's laid awake comparing himself to them.

Wondering what it would be like to be as towering as Mountain, as sturdy as Aether, or as balanced as Swiss.

No, never.

...Okay, maybe sometimes.

Most of the time.

Every day.

The only other person he's ever shared this particular insecurity with is Cumulus, because she gets it.

But while the ghoulette's height, or lack thereof, is seen as endearing or cute... Dew's has, historically speaking, been parsed as weakness.

How often had the other ghouls in his pack back in the pit looked at him with pity for being so small?

He'd been a good hunter, a provider, a hard worker... but that was never enough to earn their respect.

Among ghouls, even if you can walk the walk and talk the talk, if there's something about you that makes you seem weaker in the eyes of the pack leader, that's it; You are weak.

"Your mother was small." his father told him one day as he bundled him up in furs -For the lowest levels of Hell are a frozen wasteland, so cold that it burns- looking at him with gentle eyes, "But she was not weak. You are not weak. No matter what Princeps says, you are strong."

So why...

Dew feels something in his back pop.

The others must hear it, too, the way their heads all pivot to look at him.

Or maybe it's the sound of his instrument hitting the floor that draws their attention first.

Any which way-

"Are you okay??" Aeon squeaks from nearby, and, Satanas, Dew wants to disappear.

Instead, though, he stands there, hunched over for a moment as he tries to process what just happened.

His spine screams at him as he straightens it out, eliciting another loud pop, this time slotting whatever fell out of place back in, and then right back out.

The groan that escapes his body is entirely involuntary, and laced with pain.

Someone else is asking what's wrong now, but Dew ignores them in favor of gripping the railing of the practice stage and pinching his eyes shut as his back gives an audible click.

There's a collective hiss at the sound, and Dew decides that continuing to stand around like this isn't doing him any favors, so he eases himself down the railing, first to sit, and then down further, forcing his back to lay flat against the ground.

The bright overhead lights shine in his face, so he throws an arm over his eyes, the other coming to rest on his chest as he shifts his legs around.

"You good, Smokey?" Swiss asks, now looming over him, hands on his knees, "You're kind of scaring us, bud..."

"...m' fuckin' back's out..." Dew mutters through clenched teeth, "Get Aether."

Swiss' brow creases, "Shit, dude. Okay, okay... Thing One and Thing Two, go find Aether!"

Aeon and Aurora chirp in indignation at being called "Things" but an irritated croak from somewhere in the room has them headed out the door.

"How'd this even happen??" Rain wonders, appearing beside Swiss, looking down at Dew, worried.

Dew says nothing, because honestly even he isn't sure exactly what happened.

He thinks, maybe, he twisted when he should have turned, and something about the motion pulled something out of place during his usual back bend, not enough to cause problems on the way down, but the on the way back up...

"...I'm a fucking idiot." Dew winces, trying to sit up and failing miserably.

"Hey, hey, just stay still." Rain frets, "It's okay, you'll be okay."

"Goddd..." Dew groans.

"Oooohh... You know he's in pain if he's swearing like that." Swiss cringes.

.

.

.

Two weeks.

Two. Fucking. Weeks.

"It could be fine in a couple days, but I don't want you to push yourself." Aether had said while looking him over in the infirmary, "I can treat the pain, but the rest has to heal on its own."

"Let me die then." Dew had hisses as the older quintessence ghoul massaged along his spine.

"You're not going to die, Dew."

"Kill me then."

"Dew."

It's been three days now, and Dew's back is still bothering him.

He can't even get out of bed to use the bathroom without having to tell someone first for fear that he might have a spasm and fall over and hurt himself if left alone.

"Is taking it easy really that hard?" Rain scolds him after the water ghoul finds him sprawled out on the ground on his belly, having tried -and clearly failed- to go back to his usual routine despite his back creaking at him ominously, "You're injured, you need to lay down and rest!"

"I'm bored as shit!" Dew hisses, face half pressed into the carpet, unable to lift himself.

Rain crouches down and helps him, slowly, onto his feet, "You could always watch something on your laptop, or maybe read a book?"

"I already-"

Dew pauses and makes a face as Rain maneuvers him back onto the bed, rearranging his limbs around with ease.

"What?"

"Nothing." Dew settles against the pillows.

"You clearly have something on your mind." Rain says, crossing his arms, "Better to get it off your chest now than to stew in it."

"Do I weigh... like... nothing to you?"

Rain blinks.

"I mean, no, but..." he shrugs, "You're not too heavy, I guess?"

"...huh."

"Whatcha thinkin'?"

"If I... You think you could carry me to the living room?" Dew questions, watching Rain's brown curls bounce to the side as he tilts his head, "Could you carry me to the living room so I can watch TV? ...Please?"

"Will you stay put if I lay you down on the couch?" Rain asks, already leaning down to scoop the ghoul up.

"Sure, sure, just get me out of this place and I'll do whatever you say."

"I'm holding you to that." Rain sniffs, carefully lifting Dew up into his arms, and... Huh.

Dew isn't sure why, but there's something about being held like this that feels...

"Comfortable?"

Good.

"'s'not so bad."

Rain hums and carries him out of his room, stopping to pocket Dew's phone on the way out.

"Just in case."

The walk from the dorms to the ghouls' common area isn't that long, but Dew kind of wishes it was, if only so he could stay in Rain's arms a little longer.

Speaking of...

From this angle, Dew pretty much has no choice but to stare at the side of the ghoul's face.

He's never really thought about it before, but Rain's profile is really nice, and his nose is... would it be weird to say it's cute?

It's definitely on the larger side, but that's not a bad thing, in fact he thinks it makes some of his more delicate features a bit more balanced.

While he's lost in thought thinking about how weirdly handsome Rain is, the ghoul in question turns to look at him, grinning, "Something wrong?"

"Did you know noses are the dicks of the face?" Dew blurts and-

"Huh?"

-Oh fuck why did he say that??

#lamp writes #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic #raindrop #nameless ghoul shipping #you ever just say something random because you got put on the spot? #that's dew

[rinsoap]

˚ ༘ ♡⋆｡˚ ﾐ the big seijoh four's favourite artists!

✿²˖ ࣪ ➣ includes : oikawa tooru, iwaizumi hajime, matsukawa issei + hanamaki takahiro

note : sorry ive been inactive as hell w actual hcs or like. real works LMAOO i have been #depressed and #unmotivated LoL! anyways pls tell me u can see suna's influence on iwaizumi i hc that they r friends <33

oikawa tooru :

!!? KALI UCHIS STAN NEVER SPEAK 2 ME AGAIN. he LOVESSS her he is completely convinced isolation was specifically made to cater to him and his exact music taste delusional king fr!! and he gatekeeps her SO HARD like babes as much as i would like to be her top listener too, the 21,158,866 monthly listeners seem like they might be hard to beat 🤔

his favourite songs by kali uchis are :

tyrant - ft. jorgia smith on the isolation album.

i wish you roses (single).

loner on the por vida album.

!!? this artist is not a guilty pleasure no matter how many times he says he's sooo embarrassed he likes carly rae jepson. "omg stop don't tell people i like her that's humiliating omg stop i don't want people to know!!!!!!" he is a LIAR. he will publicly scream every single lyric to every single song she makes, IN FACT he will shamefully make tiktoks on public buses and shit, lip syncing to her songs on full volume (or at least he would if literally all of seijoh didn't tell him to shut the fuck up LMAO)

his favourite songs by carly rae jepson are :

call me maybe on the kiss album.

boy problems on the E•MO•TION album.

felt this way on the dedicated side b album.

!!? —✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : good days by SZA. heart to heart by mac de marco. oh no! by marina and the diamonds. conceited by flo milli.

iwaizumi hajime :

!!? UGH ANOTHER AMAZING PERFECT TYLER THE CREATOR STAN. OOH I WANNA KISS ALL TYLER FANS ON THE HEAD I FREQUENTLY MAKE OUT W EVERY TYLER FAN EVER!! he's a very loyal listener, he knew him on vine bro like i said in pt 1, he introduced him to suna (while suna takes all the credit lol) he might even have a slight... fixation.. one might call it a.... crush.... but he will never admit it his ego is too big!!

his favourite songs by tyler the creator are :

A BOY IS A GUN on the IGOR album.

garden shed - ft. estelle on the flower boy album.

SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - ft. brent faiyaz and fana hues on the CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST album.

!!? is it controversial to say he fucks w ice spice.. almost a little too much... he knows all the lyrics to munch which is def something he has in common with oikawa's music taste!!! like at this point they're like pavlov's dog, they are absolutely salivating every single time they hear "stop playin with em riot!"

his favourite songs by ice spice are :

bikini bottom (single).

princess diana on the like..? EP.

in ha mood (single).

!!?—✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : she likes another boy by oscar lang. attention by new jeans. just a stranger by kali uchis and steve lacy. NASA by ariana grande.

matsukawa issei :

!!? unlike iwaizumi, he will admit his huge crush on brent faiyaz with his ENTIRE CHEST. brent faiyaz his love, his one and only (i am projecting!) <3 most of the content he consumes is brent faiyaz related tbh the algorithm knows him too well and before you ask the burning question on your mind, YES he did almost start a stan twitter in year one!!! makki will never let him live it down as if he didn't ACTUALLY start one for bruno mars..

his favourite songs by brent faiyaz are :

ADDICTIONS on the WASTELAND album.

what you heard (single) by sonder - technically still brent faiyaz.

talk 2 u on the sonder son album.

!!? he really should be ashamed he likes drake tbh. he physically could not compell himself to show anybody his spotify wrapped because almost all drake songs were in his top played. please never ever speak to him about the time he genuinely ugly cried to one dance. he will never elaborate and will probably go and sob to god's plan next.

his favourite songs by drake are :

way 2 sexy - ft. future and young thug on the certified lover boy album.

9 on the views album.

circo loco on the her loss album.

!!?—✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : love is only a feeling by joey bada$$. small worlds by mac miller. awkward by SZA. finesse (remix) by bruno mars and cardi b.

hanamaki takahiro :

!!? ACTIVELY PUSHING THE MAKKI BRUNO MARS AGENDA!! fuck an evening with silk sonic he wants an evening with bruno 😭 all he is doing every day all day is praying bruno gets his heart broken again so he can drop another DELECTIBLE album!!!!! also him and iwa like to say that since makki is puerto rican and iwa is filipino, together they make one bruno mars <333 (this is a hc dont take it too srsly lol)

his favourite songs by bruno mars are :

that's what i like on the 24k magic album.

treasure on the unorthodox jukebox album.

after last night (with thunder cats & bootsy collins) on the an evening with silk sonic album.

!!? he is a dork and i am a dork soooo i'm gonna have to say he is a the living tombstone stan.... oikawa will go on full rants about how cringey 2020 was and how weird that video game animatronic type music is and he'll look over at makki and see the single tear roll down his face as he says he has no idea the music genre he's talking about 😭

his favourite songs by the living tombstone are :

my ordinary life (single).

drunk on the zero_one album.

jump up, super star! (single).

!!?—✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : new person, same old mistakes by tame impala. your teeth in my neck by kali uchis. join us for a bite by JT music. ORANGE SODA by baby keem.

#[ headcanons ] #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu!! #haikyu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #hq #hq hcs #hq headcanons #oikawa tooru #oikawa headcanons #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa headcanons #mattsun headcanons #mattsun #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki headcanons #makki headcanons #makki #oikawa imagines #iwaizumi imagines #matsukawa imagines #hanamaki imagines #oikawa x you

[eomerofrohan]

The Grinding Ice

(an excerpt from an as-yet-unpublished WIP I've been working on featuring some of my Noldor OC's. for @march-of-the-noldor)

~

After what felt like an eternity trekking across the frozen wasteland, Fingolfin called for the group to halt and make camp. They could not continue on their march as worn out as they were, and although trying to sleep in such an environment would be dangerous, he preferred it to trying to press onward and having his people collapse of exhaustion. They’d had too many close calls already.

“I’ll stay awake for now,” Vanessë whispered to her sister Rainiel as they pitched their tent. “To keep watch for cracking in the ice or anything else. You should get some rest.”

“Are you sure?” Rainiel asked. “You need sleep too.”

“I’ll be fine.” Vanessë handed Rainiel the extra blanket. “Take this.”

“Absolutely not, you keep that if you’re going to try to stay awake in this cold!”

“You need to stay warm while you sleep,” she retorted.

Finally, Rainiel agreed to take the blanket, and she wrapped it around herself with one of the cloaks as extra padding. Then she spread a bedroll out on the ground inside the tent and lay down, curled up in between these layers and still shivering.

Vanessë waited until Rainiel’s breathing was steady. Then, slowly and quietly, she laid the fur-lined cloak Turgon had just given her across her sister’s shoulders and slipped out of the tent without another word, letting the flap close behind her. She went and sat down a few feet away and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, trying to ignore the icicles that were slowly forming on the ends of her hair.

“You care about her a lot, I can tell,” Saeldur said, sitting down next to her.

“She didn’t want to come and I feel responsible for her,” Vanessë answered. “Besides, I’m the only one she has now. Our parents stayed in Tirion.”

Saeldur paused. “And… what are your feelings about our expedition?”

Vanessë shivered. “It’s hard to think of anything right now except ice and water. I don’t think I ever want to see ice again for as long as I live. I hope Middle Earth is warm.”

Without saying anything, Saeldur slipped part of his cloak off of his shoulders and wrapped it around hers, so that it covered the both of them. Vanessë glanced at it, surprised, and then looked at him with gratitude.

“I think there may be a limited supply,” he explained. “We didn’t expect to have to come this way, after all.”

“Well, I appreciate your generosity,” Vanessë said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” he replied.

They sat there in silence for a few moments. Vanessë was the one who broke it.

“I want to kill Morgoth,” she said.

“What?”

“I want to destroy him completely and utterly. He destroyed what stability we had, destroyed the light of the Trees, destroyed my trust in the Valar… I want to pay him back for all of that. A thousand times.”

Saeldur stared at her. “So, you’re still dedicated, even after hearing the Doom that Mandos set down on us,” he whispered. “Even after… after being betrayed by Fëanor?”

“We don’t need Fëanor,” Vanessë scoffed. “We can do this ourselves. Look around: we are a larger force than his, and better equipped. This ice shelf is full of passionate, dedicated Elves who just spent today helping each other out of a number of bad situations. Fëanor could never.”

Saeldur had to laugh then. “You’re right! He is singularly focused on his own personal ambition. We were taken care of in his fortress, but… not by him.”

“So, what’s this about for you, then?” she asked him. “What made you want to take up your sword and march across a thrice-damned frozen deathtrap?”

He thought about it for a moment, shifting a little under the blanket as he did so, subconsciously shifting a little closer to her, drawn in by her body heat.

“Well, I… I swore an oath to Fëanor. Not that one. An oath of fealty, several years ago. I wanted to be a part of something, and he seemed so promising then. But… I’m not a part of that anymore. I turned away from him. I… I defected. But even having done that, I can’t make myself turn aside from the quest. Maybe it’s that I consider my fealty to have transferred to Fingolfin, so the same oath applies… but I don’t think it’s just that. People don’t swear oaths for the sake of swearing oaths. There’s feeling behind them. Some sort of desire or emotion. It doesn’t just go away.”

She was watching him intently. He took a deep breath and continued.

“I was in Formenos when High King Finwë was killed,” he said softly. “I didn’t see it, of course. No one saw it, it was pitch black. But to think that a being such as Morgoth could just… do that… just come into our home and murder our leader, and none of us could stop him… that chills me to the bone. I can’t sit idle and let him get away with that.”

Vanessë nodded as he spoke. She understood that implicitly.

“I think that’s a very respectable thing to want,” she whispered.

The two of them sat there and talked for many hours, and the longer they talked, the more Vanessë felt like she and Saeldur were on the same wavelength when it came to ambitions and things they would or would not accept. Internally, she breathed a sigh of relief that someone else here felt the same as her.

Saeldur gently nudged her. “Look up,” he whispered.

She glanced upward, then stared. In the sky, thousands of tiny dots of light pierced through the darkness. They stretched all the way from the land she had just left behind to the opposite shore, and they reminded her of Varda’s silver orbs. In that moment, a story came back to her mind.

“Varda created the stars so that the first Elves would not awaken in darkness,” she whispered. “This is… this is the light our people were born under.”

“Maybe our road is not so hopeless after all,” Saeldur said. “Morgoth can destroy the Trees, but he cannot destroy the stars, and we are banished from Valinor, but we keep the first gift we were given. No one can take the stars from us.”

Vanessë smiled as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “I like the way you think, Saeldur Elennion.”

After a while, they drifted off to sleep there in the middle of the Helcaraxë, both wrapped in a single cloak, with Rainiel sleeping a few feet away and a handful of the most noble Elves they’d ever met patrolling quietly around them. A cold wind blew, but they snuggled together for warmth, and in that moment, it seemed like their exile might not be such a bad thing after all.

#silmarillion #fanfic #march of the noldor #helcaraxe #my posts

[saberswordseabass]

A Hidden Danger pt:1

Being a human in this strange universe was not as easy as it had used to be. Earth has been gone for a while now, most of the species being kidnapped by pirates or giant snake people, and now being treated like a dainty flower that would break to the lightest breeze by Carrion's guardian, a large bipedal bovine woman, called Trish.

"I am telling you it'll be fine! I'll be careful. Besides, it'll be amazing to see a new planet that not even the rest of the community knows about!" The twenty year old human states in an excited tone before grumbling at how uncomfortable the suit Trish was making him wear was.

"I know you'll be careful. We all will, but it's more of I don't want you harmed." Trish sighed as she looked down at her charge that came up to the middle of her brown furred torso, although the protective suit hid most of her features, besides her horns which were curled into a similar shape like a Terran's highlander cow.

"Technically, I should not have allowed you to go on this expedition in the first place. I can get in major trouble, I am supposed to be helping you." Trish states as Carrion looks back up at her and gives a tired sigh. Her ear flicks slightly as the door to the steel box they were in opens, allowing the rest of the expedition crew to arrive.

A large bipedal bear steps through the door, their belly straining against the protective fabric of the Hostile Environment Neutralizer Suit. In the padded hand of their suit, they carried a large briefcase like box. This was Tur. They were the group's expedition biological field agent. "Ah, it is good to see you are both already prepared. All we have left is to wait on Nellion, our geologist, and the surveyor of the expedition."

The geologist was another humanoid figure, only having an inch on Carrion compared to the over two feet the other two had him. Someone here didn't make him feel too small for once. An epicene voice rumbles through the speaker system of the suit.

"Trish, it is wonderful to have you with us again. We missed you." Nellion turns to Carrion, stepping closer to the human, allowing him to see the feline like eyes barely through the darkened glass of the helmet.

"It is good to see you as well, Nellion. This is my -" Before Trish could finish, Nellion interrupted, causing the guardian huff in annoyance.

"You must be Carrion, our new archeologist! It is wonderful to meet you, I am sure you will do wonderful." Nellion gave Carrion as Cheshire smile before heading to a free corner of the steel box and pressing a button.

The elevator they were in began to slowly lower, bringing them to the vehicle bay of the small explorer ship. A rover large enough to fit them all laid on it's dock bed, prepared for it's mission. The group of four take up their seats as the engine flared to life, blue glowing from it's center. The exit ramp lowered as the hover pads raised up the rover a good foot of the ground.

Before them laid what was an empty wasteland, consisting of nothing but jagged stone and harsh winds across the sandy stones. "Wow. I thought we'd be landing on one of the jungle areas." Carrion states as the wind fills the bay, the sand plinking of the glass ineffective in scratching or otherwise damaging it.

"This is as close we could get to one of the older plant species on the planet. The station needed to see if we'd be able to use it for better structural support in upcoming colonies." Tur spoke loudly as their speaker rumbled out, but it was barely heard over the howls of the sand. Nellion, who was driving the rover, had begun to pilot the rover to a break in the fury that was the wind.

"Trish?" Carrion rumbled out to his guardian that was sat to his left. His helmet turned to face her.

"Yes?" Her helmet turned towards him, the inside beginning to fog up slightly from each word spoken.

"This is a lot dif-," He began to say before stopping and leaning his head to look around her, his eyes squinting at something distance. Trish turns her head to look over to her left. A short red blip broke through the torrent of sand.

"Hey! Something is over there!" Carrion shouts, pointing at the blip. Nellion squints before turning to Tur. "Let's check that out first. We have a few days to get the sample. This planet was supposed to be uninhabited."

Tur nods in agreement. Nellion begins to type onto the console, and the rover begins to hover towards the red blip. Upon getting closer to the blip, allows them all to see it is a red light connected to the side of the rock face. A large metal door that looks like it was sandblasted for a hundred years also rests in the rock face.

"Nothing to indicate sentient life was found when we scanned the planet earlier." Tur hummed in a curious tone as Carrion climbed out, much to the surprise of Trish who climbs out with him.

Getting up to the door, it was more visible to see the sand had grinded the once air-tight door enough so something could find more purchase. "Trish. Think you'll be able to open this?" Carrion asks as he runs his hand against the sanded door.

"I appreciate the compliment on how strong you think I am, but if it's a standard blast door, I ain't opening it." She states as she could just feel the puppy eyes from Carrion. "Ugh, fine, I'll try. Stand back in case something breaks horribly."

Carrion stands behind her as she hooks her padded fingers into the groove. The door lets out an ear grinding screech, but it opens none the less. Upon opening, the doors lock, no longer needing her to force it. The way down almost horribly dark. Carrion flicks on his H.E.N.S.' built in light, about to step in.

"Wow, there! I go first, as I have to keep you safe." Trish places a hand on his chest as Nellion and Tur step out of the rover. Carrion blinks before allowing her to go first. The rest of the team was not far behind them.

After setting down the grimy steel hallway that was illuminated by their suits' lights, the entrance groans. The locking mechanism snaps loudly, releasing the door. It closes, sealing them in.

Turning around after it was too late. What Nellion said next was lost on Carrion as his universal translator.

This is my attempt to throw a hat in the ring of @wolven91 's amazing universe him and a few others are making. If I have anything wrong with in the lore, please let me know! C&C very much welcomed.

#cuddleverse #conservationverse #hfy #humans are space orcs

[blood-injections]

Hang on. Fuck. New suitehearts au and new backstories for it. Okay so technically killjoys like they choose to fight but also like. Total Freaks and nobody in the zones trusts them. Most people dont even know theyre real, the Suitehearts are just a ghost story. But they're real, haunting an abandoned amusement park in the real fringes of the zones, someplace nobody in their right minds would live. You could spend a night there, maybe, and survive, but living there? Its way too irradiated. But it doesn't seem to bother the suitehearts.

They're all.. off. Physically and mentally. They should be dead from radiation, instead they thrive in it. And they're just sane enough to pass as people but really they’re all more than a little Fucked Up, in their heads, in their very cells. They’re more like wild animals. They’re unwell in some way but formidable all the same. The killjoys that do know them are glad they're on their side and not Better Living's.

Benzedrine grew up in death valley, the scorching, radioactive wastelands beyond the zones. His parents were a couple rich fucks that waited out the helium wars in a bunker in the hills by Vegas, he was just a kid. It was.. a mess. The peace between his parents who always had a strained relationship didn't last long. The longer they were stuck in the bunker the more the three of them went mad. His parents refused to tell him what was happening, having shut themselves in the bunker at the first sign of war. He just knows hes stuck in this place and the ground shakes and he wants to see the sun again, he doesnt understand why this is happening. Eventually the television isnt getting any channels and the radios all static and his parents dont know whats happening either. They all get crazier. His parents argue, becoming more violent towards eachother every day. He stays shut in his room, reading the few books he has until he can practically recite them from memory. One day something changes. He hears a gunshot. Then another. He finds his parents dead in their bedroom.

He wants to leave but he grounds still shaking. He knows it isn't safe. He keeps his parent's rooms door shut and pretends that nothing is wrong. They were running out of food but now that its just him it lasts three times as long. Eventually he convinces himelf hes always been alone here, theres not rotting corpses just down the hall. Eventually, months go by without the ground shaking, and he's getting low on rations. He ventures outside. Up into the nuclear sunlight. He knows he has to find somewhere else to go. Hes young, he has no clue what to do, he has no vehicle or anything, but his instincts guide him towards the city on the horizon. That city is familiar, despite the fact that it should be unrecognizable in the ruins it is, he knows its Vegas. He starts walking. After a few days he starts to get sick. It's the radiation. He has no idea he emerged from that bunker straight into an irradiated wasteland. He finds a town, scours it for water. He's getting sicker by the day, something is very wrong with him. He doesn't feel like a kid, he feels like a fucking soldier, pushing through the pain and delirium, still walking as his skin blisters and hair falls out and guts twist, rotting from the inside out. He feels like he should be dead but somehow he stays just well enough to keep going. Eventually he enters a kind of in between state, where he isn’t quite getting worse, but he’s still rotting. He isn't dying but he isn't getting better either.

After a couple weeks he finds the others. Or, well, the others find him. He passes out, from the radiation or sunstroke, could be anything. He probably would've been fine, woken back up after a few hours, maybe a few days, with his throat dry and screaming as the sun sets and the desert cools. But instead he was found, waking up in a van with bandages covering his blistered skin.

Its other kids, that don't feel like kids anymore. He learns about radiation sickness, thats he's lucky to be pulling through it. Sandman, he learns, has a similar story to him, minus the bunker and parents killing eachother. He's from Texas, saw the pig bomb that started the wars fall with his own eyes. The light, the mushroom cloud. The wars started, his dad fought and didnt come home, he drifted through orphages and survivor groups until he decided to run away, hearing about safety to the west. He stole a motorcycle from someone in the group and left. Hes been wandering the wastes for longer than any of them and apparently went through the same sickness from radiation, but not as bad as Benze, or Donnie did, for that matter, since sandman was somewhere where he had medical help when it came. He's.. strange, right off the bat. Quiet and withdrawn one minute loud and boisterous the next. He laughs too much at things that are entirely not funny and he has a dark sense of humor. At night his eyes shine like crazy and his teeth are a bit Too sharp. Apparently he met Crab after a little while. The stolen bike ran out of gas in the middle of the wasteland and he had to walk. Crab came with an old van and picked him out of the sands and they became fast friends. Crabs the oldest of the group behind Donnie, hes the one that acts the oldest, the most responsible. Apparently he just drifted around, driving where his gut took him, scavenging. Sandman told him about the rumors of the far west and they headed out. They found Donnie after a few weeks together, when they stopped at Vegas, daring to venture into the ruins for supplies. They found Donnie, and after a very tense standoff told him about the rumors too and that they had room in their van. Donnie basically went fuck it and decided to join them, but didn't really get along with them until, a couple days later, when they found Benze, picking him out of the static. Benzedrine's a mystery to the rest of them, who all went through the wost of the sickness ages ago, and here he is like the bombs just fell again. He's got it real bad, too. Sandman had it easy, but he’s seen others die of it, rotting from the inside out. Benzedrine doesn't look that bad, but he looks like he should be a lot worse off than he is when he wakes up and demands to know where he is and who they are.

They quickly learn he's a wild animal. They're all broken in some way- Sandman, his shit always dialed to eleven, eyes glowing, harboring a billion secrets he only tells in riddles. Crab, always on edge, paranoid, in the surface he’s the most level headed of the bunch but he’s far from fine. He walks off when they stop to rest at night to be alone and do god knows what, and he goes long periods of time without speaking. Donnies quiet, secretive, grumpy, his eyes glaze over at particularly loud sounds, breath speeding up like hes having a flashback. Other than that, his face always flat, expressionless as he stares into the distance. Something about him feels dangerous.

And Benzedrine, fucked as well. He spent so long convincing himself he was fine and then longer running on autopilot, that when he wakes up, once the panic fades he's all unnerving smiles. He seems way too normal for someone that should be dead. He's always optomistic, except for when hes annoyed or angry. He has moods that last for days sometimes and when hes in one, hes someone else entirely. Snarling like a rabid dog at the littlest things. The sickly little guy gets fucking terrifying.

But he heads west with them and they keep him around and surprisingly, he gets close with Donnie after a few late night talks when their minds are clearest. They have a really weird thing, they dont seem like they’d work but they do, they can basically read eachother's minds. The quiet grumpy one with the far too bright one, and theyre both secretly the opposite. Once Donnie lets Benze in he starts letting the others in and they really start to become a Crew.

They make it to the zones, become killjoys and claim a base where they know they'll be safe, in the borderlands, where neither killjoys nor bli would venture. Because most all the killjoys here, they've got a certain amount of resistance to the radiation, but they'll never walk right into it. But the Suitehearts? They're survivors, they faced the radiation and survived it and now it lives in them and they can live in it. They become urban legends but they're just a crew like anyone else, safe in their freaky amusement park base, all of them Wrong in some way. Crazy bright eyeshine or Sandman's too-sharp teeth or the way the sun and weather and sickness seems to have no effect on Benzedrine. The way Donnie can hear the smallest thing from across a valley or the way Crab could navigate with his eyes closed. All of them changed, and all of their minds fucked, cracked. Wild, unnatural laughter that will give you chills. The way they're all a little too good at killing. The first time Benzedrine did he stared between the gun in his hands and the drac on the ground and smiled, this new thrill something he quickly became obsessed with, blood something he all but hungered for. Think ybc. Literal bloodlust, maybe. An alter ego, where all he can see is red(or, well, I guess it’d be yellow lol). Anyway, the four of them, each a little inhuman in their own ways, strange and deadly.

I'm obsessed with them, radioactive wasteland survivor freaks. They're not quite monsters but they're definitely inhuman in some way. They came back wrong except they didnt come back they were just changed as they survived. Radiation mutations and pstd and mental illnesses and concerning obsessions with blood.

#america’s suitehearts #ttlotfk #what should i call this au #uuh Radioactive Freaks #that works for now #radioactive freak suitehearts #corvidscrap

[hotpinkboots]

Hi! Can I req yandere salad fingers x reader headcanons? Mr fingers is so lonley theres no way he wouldn't go crazy over y/n,,

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~Yandere!Sαʅαԃ Fιɳɠҽɾʂ x Reader Headcanons~

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OH MY JDHDJEJFJD DARLING. DARLING. YOU. HAVE BLESSED ME WITH THIS REQUEST THANK YOU I'VE BEEN WATCHING SALAD FINGERS LITERALLY EVER SINCE IT CAME OUT. FOR LITERALLY YEARS. AUGH. THANK YOU

~Enjoy~

★★★★

Sαʅαԃ Fιɳɠҽɾʂ

★★★★

~He's definitely not, like, violent at all.

~Probably super delusional. Thinks you're his wife/husband.

~That role can change every now and then, though, he can think you're his partner, or he'll forget and think you're just his pretty friend.

~Really it all depends on the day.

~Gives you a funny nickname based on your real name. As soon as he names you, he's attached.

~"Yes, I...I think I'll call you... (insert weird nickname for your real name)."

~He seems to get horrible flashbacks of...well. You don't know what, exactly. But you're unfortunately far too empathetic- and that's your horrible downfall.

~As soon as you're attempting to help him in any way shape or form, he decides he's elected you as his new play mate.

~But, at first, he kind of flips out. He speaks to objects, and anything that is alive, doesn't speak back to him in English.

~Hearing you speak back to him sort of set him off for a bit. You should've ran as soon as he had his little meltdown over the fact you can speak.

~But you didnt. You were too sweet. You stayed to make sure he would be alright.

~And now he has somebody who actually speaks back to him. He grows fond of having somebody who speaks back to him.

~He often wants to introduce you to his...."friends". Expects you to interact with them, because they are...alive.

~Or are they? They can't be. They're just items.

~The longer you're around him, in this wasteland, the more you follow right along in his insanity.

~He's really not that dangerous, honestly- physically, at least. He won't hurt you. But everything that happens will get right into your mind. You might because just as mentally ill as he is.

~He collects your hair.

~He likes to caress your skin.

~Claims that it's like a lovely massage for his fingers.

~"You just hold...such a wel-welcoming...texture...You're very...smooth...."

~He touches you so much it gets uncomfortable.

~He also says various things that come off as perverted or freakish to you. Doesn't really mean to sound perverted on purpose, it's more of a compliment. He's being open with you...

~You may find him in his "safety cupboard" every now and then. Crying. He can't get out of his own mind. In the back of his mind, he is aware they something is horribly wrong with him.

~Hearing your little knock on the cupboard door to make sure he is okay is the most wonderful sound he could hear. You've come to check on him! For a playdate! Ahh, he's missed you!

~...He missed you even though you've been there the whole time. Sometimes he thinks you're somebody or something else, or that you're not there at all.

~Calls you his angel.

~"My...My very own, pretty angel, has come for me."

~Mr. Fingers can tell when you're being mentally drained from it all. He just thinks you need to rest, that you need to have some tea and soup.

~Maybe he thinks you're sick.

~And in a way, he's doing it on purpose.

~Being so lonely just for you to give him attention, trying to get you to like him and feel bad for him. He doesn't really realize he's doing anything on purpose, he thinks everything is okay, and he washes all those bad thoughts away when he thinks of them....you should do the same.

~He wants you down to his level.

~You take care of him, let him take care of you.

~But he can't take care of you unless you need to be taken care of.

~He doesn't even need to do anything special. Just to be himself and getting into the situations- even if they aren't real situations, even if they're just all in his head- is enough for you to start a downward spiral.

~Once you're trapped in this hell hole of a world, you can't escape.

~You don't even remember how you got here.

~You hardly remember anything before him. Just simple flashbacks and foggy memories every now and then.

~Dislikes how he can't control you like he controls all his little friends. They're objects. He can make them do things that add onto whatever story he's creating in his head.

~And you? Oh, you have a mind of your own.

~This can lead to some arguing in the future.

~You're always the one to apologize to him. It's the same thing that always happens: You two bicker, he gets upset and mad for a while, then he gets sad and walks away to cry and be alone, you come and apologize, he forgives you, and it repeats again.

~Really, you're the only thing keeping him even SLIGHTLY sane (which isn't much because he's too far gone, unfortunately). He wants to hold onto that, even if it means pulling you into his dark hole of madness.

~You're just another of his favorite playthings. You're his favorite toy. His favorite thing to touch and stroke, his favorite thing to look at, his favorite thing to speak to, ect.

~You're trapped, and he hardly even had to do anything to get you to be trapped with him...

~He's delusional. He's manipulative without even realizing it, and he guilt trips without even thinking about it.

~You should've never even spoken to him.

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MWAHAHAHAHAHA

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⭐REBLOGS⭐>💀LIKES💀

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Rules/Masterlist (Scroll Down For The Masterlist)!

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Join my chat/roleplay server! Here, you'll be able to roleplay, make new friends, and get updates on my fanfiction and upcoming videogames!:

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~Love, PinkBoots

#salad fingers #salad fingers x reader #yandere salad fingers x reader #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #horror #salad fingers fanfic

[katieaki]

My ✨ post-apocalyptic Lesbian Cowgirl Mailman choose-your-own adventure✨ has just updated! Read it here for free on my Patreon and vote in the poll! I made a summary of the first part, here, which tells you basically everything you need to know about Lou, her (newly discovered as) requited-but-complicated love, and the ill-advised journey she is on! After admitting that she's lost, tensions are running high & Lou and Holliday have a bit of a fight. & something that everyone's been waiting for since like January finally happens. :-) Enjoy! and don't boo! Vote!!

excerpt below the cut! (there is a lot of swearing in this update)

 “See! This is exactly what the fuck I’m talking about! You want everyone to think you’re this– this fucking delicate flower, but you’re meaner than a two-headed snake,” Lou said. “I’m not fucking surprised I gotta haul your ass out to the end of the world to find someone that can tolerate your presence! There can’t be one person in the whole inhabited Wasteland that ain’t sick of your shit.” 

“I guess that doesn’t matter now,” Holliday said, arching her eyebrows. “Since I’m no longer confident we’re even going to even make it there before we starve to death. If you knew you weren’t capable of the job, you should have told me the second I asked you instead of risking both our lives.” 

Lou looked down at her in silent rage until Holliday broke eye contact. The wind whistled outside the tent. Lou’s jaw ached from clenching it. She was gonna kill her. She was going to fucking kill her. She took a sharp breath in through her nose and rolled the maps up into a tight tube.

“Okay. Here’s the maps,” Lou said, throwing them onto Holliday’s lap. “Here’s the compass. You can figure it out from now on.” She snatched her unfurled sleeping bag, pillow, and pack up off of the floor of the tent. “Saddle your own mule, set up your own camp, find your own way, and fuck your own damn self,” Lou said. She started to stomp away toward where they had tied the horses. Fuck it. She’d rather sleep alone out in the intense wind than in the tent with that woman.

#Wasteland Pony Express #katieakipresentsthewasteland #original fiction #original content #oc #Lou #Louetta Primrose #lesbian fiction #interactive fiction #choose your own adventure #queer western #western romance #lgbtq fiction #choose your own path #cyoa

[writingforstraykids]

Addicted to you - Chp.6

Pairing: Minchan (mention of ot8)

Word Count: 5015

Summary: Minho misinterprets a message of Chan and climbs his balcony despite his fear worried for him. Chan finally opens up to him about what's been worrying him. Another fight during dance practice makes Chan realize how much he's hurting Minho and he has his own way to fix things.

Warnings/Tags: angst (!), acrophobia, panic attack, lots of tears, fluff, smut, dom!chan, sub!minho, rough!chan

A/N: This one starts out a little dark but I promise it's not as bad as it seems at first😅 ~ Moon🌙

Chp. 5 | Chp. 7

Did something tear a hole, leave you in a wasteland? Did you feel it in your bones, like life slipped right through your hands? I won't let you down, I won't let you down I'll carry you I'll Carry You - Tommee Profitt, Stephen Stanley

Minho groaned softly and turned to his side, glancing at his phone to check the time. He was still unable to sleep due to his argument with Chan, and it started to piss him off. Should he go and check on him again? Apologize for saying he could deal with that shit on his own? He sighed and rolled his eyes at himself. That would only end in the same mess as before. 

A message popped up, and Minho frowned softly, seeing it was Chan. "What the hell does he want now?" he wondered, given the time. Minho turned on his back, sighing, and opened the message. "What?" he asked, seeing the very long text message. 

My dear Min, 

When you get this, I already did something you'll probably hate me for. I can't blame you because I'd feel the same way. I wish I didn't have to do this to all of you, leaving like that, but I see no other way anymore and… 

…

Nevertheless, I will always love you and am so proud of you. I know you'll do great and take great care of our kids. I hope you can forgive me one day.

In love until we meet again, Channie. 

Minho skipped from the beginning to the end, shooting up from his bed and throwing his phone aside. He rushed out of his room blindly running down the hallway until he reached Chan's room and loudly knocked. He didn't get an answer, and he knocked again, louder this time. "Chan, I swear I'll kick your ass if you don't let me in right now!" he snapped. Still, no answer. "Fuck, what do I do?" he asked himself, getting panicked. Without thinking much, he opened the door to Felix's room and woke the younger one up. 

"Min?" he asked sleepily and sat up, seeing how upset he looked. "What's wrong?" 

"Chan" was all he got out, and he felt tears burning in his eyes. 

"What did he do?" Felix asked worriedly and got up. 

"I think he's about to do something really stupid, but he won't let me inside to stop him," Minho whispered, and Felix's eyes widened as Minho told him about the message. Minho stepped onto Felix's balcony and saw that Chan's wasn't that far away. "I might know a way to reach him." 

"Minho, you're afraid of heights; you can't possibly think-." 

"Shut it, please," he told him, knowing he'd panic if Felix would continue. "Promise me not to tell anyone about this, I swear I'll be back with you as soon as I can." 

"Okay, knock twice if you need help, once if everything's okay," Felix told him and hugged him close. "Deep breaths, Minho." 

"What the fuck is going on?" Changbin suddenly appeared behind them with Jisung next to him. 

"Not now, guys," Minho told them sharply and took a deep breath. 

"Something's wrong with Chan," Felix simply said. 

"He has a door?" Jisung frowned. 

"No shit, smartass," Minho groaned. 

"He doesn't open," Felix explained. 

Minho needed a long moment to convince himself before climbing over the balustrade and standing at the edge of the balcony. His fear of heights kicked in full force, and he gripped the balustrade tightly. "Don't look down, don't look down," he told himself, reaching over to Chan's balcony with one hand. 

"Fuck, I can't watch that shit tell me when he's over there," Jisung said and stepped back into Felix's room. 

Once he got a grip on it, he carefully moved one leg over there and pulled himself onto the edge of Chan's balcony. Minho whimpered softly and barely found the strength in himself to hold on. "Channie hyung, please," he begged, a few tears running down his cheeks as he gasped for air. 

"Lix, baby?" Changbin asked softly. 

"I don't know, Binnie," he shook his head, his heart racing as Chan finally opened the door to his balcony.

“Minho, what the fuck?!” he snapped at him and rushed over, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked and grunted as he lifted him up. “Help me out a little?”

Minho’s panic kicked in full force, and he gave himself a push, struggling over the balcony balustrade. Chan crashed down on the floor with him, moaning at the impact but still holding onto him. Minho’s jaw hit the floor, making him wince in pain; that would leave a bruise. He pushed himself off Chan and stumbled inside, gasping for air, trying to remind himself he was back on solid ground. Chan quickly followed him inside and slammed the door shut, wondering what was happening.

"And we're supposed to take it like that?" Changbin frowned. 

"Chan's clearly not feeling well at the moment; Min knows what he's doing," Felix said firmly. 

"Didn't look like it," Jisung spoke up. 

"They'll tell us if something bad's going on. Now, let Minho handle things with Channie. We should all get some sleep," Felix said and gently shoved them out of his room. He sat down on his bed, knowing he wouldn't sleep until Minho would've knocked…at least Chan seemed to be more or less okay.

"Minho, what the fuck?" Chan asked, shocked, and wrapped his arms around him from behind. Minho sobbed in fear and leaned into him, curling up a little. Chan got the message and hugged him very tightly, knowing the pressure would help him focus on something other than his panic. “Deep breaths, Min, you’re safe,” he told him, and Minho’s breathing started to get more even again. 

Minho turned in his arms and started punching his chest weakly. "You're damn right; I fucking hate you," he whimpered. "Why didn't you open the door?" 

"I wanted to be alone," Chan answered quietly, still not quite picking up on his emotional state or why he had been on his balcony. 

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock," Minho pressed out. "I had to climb on your balcony from Felix's." 

"You..what?" he asked shocked. "I thought you were scared of heights?" 

"This is me being scared of it, you fucking idiot," he snapped at him and pulled back. "But that message scared me more." 

"That…what?" He pulled his hands back from his arms, and guilt flooded his eyes.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" Minho asked through tears. "I've been asking you to open up for weeks, I thought you trusted me. I held you every damn night, Chan, I gave you a thousand chances to tell me what's wrong. And now a text message is all I get?" 

Chan's eyes filled with tears rapidly, and he hung his head low. "I can't do this anymore." 

"Do what exactly?" Minho asked firmly. 

"There are people during my live, beneath videos or pictures of me telling me all the things they hate about me, and I believe them. Some even told me to hurt myself or end my life," he told him. 

"And your solution is doing exactly that? Chan, you can't be serious," Minho tried, growing more gentle as his own fear slowly subsided. "What about your parents? What about your siblings? What am I supposed to tell them?" he asked, and Chan stared at him with wide eyes. "What about those six kids you took in and swore to protect? You'd hurt them all more than anything else with that shit. What…what about us? Do you think I'll play a happy team leader trying to pick up the pieces you leave behind? After losing you? Chan, I love you, for fucks sake." 

"Wait, what?" he asked in shock. "Oh my god, Min, I didn't want to…fucks sake," he whispered, and Minho stared at him utterly confused. Now, he finally got what drove Minho to climb onto his balcony in the middle of the night. "By leaving, I meant leaving the group." 

Minho blinked at him, confused, before realization hit his face. "Oh my fucking god, you scared the hell out of me." 

"I wouldn't…Min, come on," he said softly, and Minho's eyes filled with tears. 

"I didn't know, you've been feeling down for weeks now and…and I didn't know what to think of that," he admitted timidly. "You want to leave the group?" he asked shakily. 

"I'm not sure I can do this anymore," he told him. “It’s getting too much, and I feel like I can’t keep up.”

"But…but Channie, we need you," he whispered, a big tear rolling down his cheeks. "There's no stray kids without our leader." 

"They have you," he said weakly. 

"I'm the main dancer, Channie, not a leader," he shook his head. "I can only take over temporarily but not…I thought this was our dream."

Chan buried his face in his hands defeatedly and started sobbing. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Min," he whimpered. 

Minho's heart broke seeing him like this. "Come here, please," he said softly and opened his arms for him. 

Chan climbed into his lap, hiding in his shirt as violent sobs shook his body. "I-I just feel like I'm fa-falling apart," he barely got out. 

Minho's hold on him tightened, and his heart started racing as the adrenaline left his body again. "I got you, Channie, I promise," he told him and started rocking him soothingly. "I'm here. You're safe with me." 

Chan broke down for good in his arms, unable to reply. He held onto him desperately as Minho whispered sweet nothings to him, trying to coax him out of the dark hole he was trapped in. 

Minho didn't know how long he was sitting there on the floor with Chan in his lap. He didn't know how long it would take Chan to calm down, but he didn't dare to rush him. He was mindlessly rubbing his back and playing with his hair as his hyung sobbed into his chest. All he could think of was what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been awake. Would Chan have simply disappeared on them, and they’d get the news from their management? Minho knew one thing for sure: he wasn't ready to let go of him yet, and neither seemed Chan. 

Chan very slowly calmed down again, staying in his arms, unable to look at him. His thoughts were racing and very slow and incoherent at the same time. He couldn't make sense of what he was about to do before anymore. How could he even consider leaving them all behind? "I'm sorry, Minho, that was really dumb," he spoke up, voice sounding raspy from crying. 

"You're damn right it was," Minho whispered, not trusting his voice. "You really scared me." 

Chan hugged him tight. "I should've talked to you," he said, and Minho hummed, agreeing. "I just felt like such a burden." 

Minho pulled back and cupped his face, making him look at him. "You're not a burden. Not to me, Chan." 

Chan smiled weakly at him and covered his hands with his own. "I promise I'll get better." 

Minho shook his head, tears brimming his eyes. "Chan, you need help." 

"I have you," he told him. 

Minho shook his head. "You need to talk to someone neutral about what’s bothering you. Please, at least think about it." 

"Okay," he said quietly, and they both knew he wouldn't. "Can you stay tonight?" he asked timidly. 

"Okay," Minho nodded and wrapped him back into his arms, unable to stop a tear from slipping down his cheek. "Don't you dare let go of me." 

"I won't," he promised and held him tight. 

-

A few days later, they were back at dance practice again. Minho was tired from staying up long with Chan over the past few nights as he had trouble sleeping. His mind was still racing because of that night, and he hadn't had the chance to talk to Felix properly about what happened. He had a short fuse, and his members quickly noticed that Minho had trouble staying patient during practice. 

They were practicing a jump, and Chan didn't properly hold Felix, causing the latter to stumble. Minho caught him in time and cut them off. "Chan, you have to hold him like this," Minho showed him. "Otherwise, he'll keep on slipping from your grip." 

Chan nodded quietly and patted Felix's back, apologizingly. They continued, and Chan messed up a few other steps, starting to get pissed off with himself and Minho's constant comments on it. As if he didn't know he was fucking up. 

"Channie, left then right, not the other way around," Minho told him for the fifth time, and Chan had enough. 

"Minho, outside, now," Chan suddenly snapped, and Minho blinked at him, surprised, before following him. 

Minho gently pulled the door closed behind them. "What's the issue? You don't like being told you're making a mistake in front of others?" he asked, irritated. "I can't help you with that, we're a group, and it's my job to tell you when one of you fucks up a dance, that's nothing personal." 

"Stop hovering, Minho, I can handle myself," Chan said firmly. 

"Yeah, right," Minho huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You fucked up, own it, and move on, Chan." 

"I didn't ask you to stop me from leaving that night, alright? Stop rubbing it in," he snapped at him, and Minho's face fell. 

"I wasn't even-," he tried; all he was talking about was him taking the wrong step. 

"Just shut up," Chan said angrily. 

The others anxiously glanced at them through the glass door. They didn't have to hear them to see that Minho was clearly hurt, and Chan seemed pissed. They all acted like they hadn't noticed anything when Chan stormed back in but couldn't help but glance at Minho, who stood still and stared into the distance for another moment before disappearing from their sight. 

Minho went to the closest bathroom and took a few deep breaths, rubbing his chest as a wave of panic crushed down on him. He forced himself to calm down enough to keep up the charade of feeling well. “He’s feeling shitty, that’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he told himself quietly before going back.

As he came back in, they noticed he was fighting back tears but took his place as if nothing happened. "Alright, back from the beginning," he announced. Minho watched them through the mirror. "Lixie, be careful, or you'll knock out Hannie," he reminded him as they turned. "Hyunjin, you have to face the mirror when you turn," he told him and saw Chan stepping to the wrong side once more, ignoring it this time. "Changbin, Seungmin, stop messing around," he told them as he caught them dancing their own little dance in the back. Minho was starting to get exhausted, and he sighed softly as they approached the jump situation again, hoping Chan would do as he had told him. 

Felix started running, jumped up, and crashed down on the floor forcefully. Minho's eyes widened in shock. "Chan, for fucks sake!" he snapped at him and went to help Felix, carefully checking his neck and moving his head from side to side. 

"I thought I had him," Chan groaned. 

"You thought…Listen up, you may be the leader, but dancing is my area, alright? If I tell you the way you're holding him isn't safe, you don't continue doing the same shit again. If you can't handle someone else having authority, that's your issue. Now fuck off, all of you; this was it for today," Minho turned his attention back to Felix. "You're okay, Lix? Does something hurt?" he asked gently. 

"I'm a bit dizzy," Felix admitted and held his head. 

"Hannie, go get some water," Minho said, focusing back on his friend. "Anything else?" 

All of them, including Chan, slowly backed away from them, knowing that Minho was seriously pissed. As teasing as he was, they all got a little worried when he was actually mad for once. 

"I'm okay," Felix promised and thanked Jisung for the water bottle. Once he had left as well, Felix looked at him worriedly. "Are you okay? That looked quite intense." 

Minho shook his head gently. "He's an idiot sometimes. He completely misunderstood what I said and snapped at me for no reason." 

"Why would he snap? You just told him he got it wrong," Felix frowned. "And you were right as we just saw." 

"He…I really shouldn't talk about this," he shook his head, and shivers ran down his spine thinking of that night. 

"Minho, what happened that night?" he asked worriedly as he saw his eyes brim with tears. "We never got to talk about it after." 

"I promised him not to tell anyone," he shook his head and swallowed hard. "But it's fucked up, Felix, he needs help, but he's too stubborn, and-," Minho's voice broke, and he quickly closed his mouth again. “It’s not what I thought reading that message,” he said, and Felix’s expression got flooded with relief. “But he’s not okay, he’s feeling a lot of shit right now, and I don’t know how to fix this,” he whispered.

Felix's face softened. "Listen, I'm there if you ever feel like talking about it. I won't tell him a word, I promise." 

Minho gently took his hand and squeezed it. "I know," he smiled bravely and inhaled shakily. "Give me a moment, okay? I'll be on time for dinner." 

Felix nodded and got up, quietly pulling the glass door closed. He looked back and knew he had to talk to Chan. Minho was still crouched down on the floor, his face buried in his hand as his body shook due to him silently crying. He walked upstairs, and luckily, Chan was about to enter his room, stopping as he saw him. 

"Felix, mate, I'm so sorry, are you alright?" he asked worriedly and pulled him into a hug.

Felix patted his back. "Accidents happen…but you should talk to Min," he said, and Chan didn't need any more words to see he was serious. "Whatever it is, he didn't mean it the way you took it." 

Chan groaned softly before making his way back downstairs. He froze in front of the door at the sight of him, and his stomach turned with guilt. Chan quietly opened the door and walked over to him, crouching down behind him and wrapping his arms around him. Minho flinched heavily and quickly wiped his cheeks. "Shh, it's just me," he said softly, and Minho stopped trying to hide that he was upset. 

"I was talking about your way of holding Felix, nothing else. I would never rub it in your face like that or try to gain something just because I was there that night to stop you," Minho explained through tears. 

"I'm sorry, I've been a complete asshole," he said quietly and hugged him to his chest. "I know you didn't." 

"Do you even care how that looked like for the others? Taking me outside for a talk like we're in some fucked up office, and I'm about to get fired," he told him and sniffled softly. "I get it, you were trying to protect yourself, but you made me look like shit with that. That's not okay, Chan." 

Chan hummed, agreeing, and gently rocked them from side to side. "I should've thought it through. I'm sorry. I'm just anxious they'll find out..they probably won't take it as well as you do." 

"They - Chan, this is me taking it well. You think you acting off makes me doubt myself like that?" he asked. "I'm trying to deal with the fact that we could've lost our leader three days ago. I feel like everything I do or say could be the wrong thing." 

"Please don't," he said lowly and squeezed him. "You're right, I'm acting off and working on it, I promise. This has nothing to do with you; it's on me." 

Minho sighed softly and shook his head. "You can't hide it from them forever, Chan. They're not stupid…Half of them know something was wrong anyway." 

"I know," he said and intertwined their hands. "Just not now." 

He looked down at their hands and bit his lower lip. "Will we ever tell them about us?" 

"There's no rush, right?" Chan asked. 

Minho swallowed and bit back a heavy sigh. Almost nine months later, he still thought he was rushing. "Of course not…Channie, you really have to hold onto Felix differently. He'll have a concussion until we're done with this." 

"I know, I was pissed, so I wasn't thinking straight," he told him. 

"Are you ever?" he gave back, holding up their intertwined hands. 

"Not since I met you, no," Chan admitted, and Minho turned around, letting go of his hands and sitting down. Chan did as well, their legs entangled as they faced each other. "I promise I'll tell them one day."

Minho nodded and searched his eyes. "You better." 

-

Jisung made his way back to the practice room to get Chan and Minho for dinner but stopped in his tracks, seeing them. Minho was straddling Chan's lap, hand tangled in his curls as the older one kissed his neck. Minho's head fell back, lips parting as Chan's grip made him grind down. Jisung's jaw dropped, and he quickly turned away, making his way back to the others. So that was part of what was going on. "Felix!" he whispered as soon as he saw him. "Are they-?" 

"Shh, Hannie," Felix quickly hushed him. 

“Since when are those two a thing?” he whispered.

“Not here, I’ll tell you later,” he said, and they took their place at the table.

-

Minho moaned needily and looked toward the door. "Channie, love, we can't -," a groan cut him off as Chan's hand slipped into his sweatpants and squeezed his ass, making him grind down even more. "Chan."

Chan went back to kissing his lips. "Go lock the door. I'll take care of the rest," he panted softly against his lips. He was already hard himself, and they couldn't sneak upstairs since the others were probably eating dinner or making their way downstairs. 

Minho laughed but did as he said, getting the keys and locking the door. He helped Chan close the curtains and watched him turn off most of the lights. 

Chan pulled him back into a passionate kiss and started taking off his shirt. Minho followed his example and chased his lips as they both struggled with their trousers, stumbling a little. Their underwear followed, and Minho was back on his lap before he knew it, kissing him heavily. 

Chan's skin pressed against his made it even better. "Please tell me you brought some condoms and lube," he said between kisses. 

"I always do since we started this," Chan answered, reaching for his jacket on the floor. 

"Always so eager," Minho giggled and lovingly rolled his eyes at him. He took the lube from him and spread some on his fingers, reaching back to open himself up. His lips parted with a gasp as he carefully pushed in the first finger. 

Chan braced him as Minho soon pushed in the next finger, taking in his expression. "You're so pretty," he told him, and Minho moaned in response. "Want some help?" he offered, and Minho let him replace his fingers with his own. 

He moaned softly as Chan's fingers pushed into him, opening him up with practiced movements. Minho melted against him with a beautiful whine when his fingertips brushed over his prostate. Minho's body shook with waves of intense pleasure as Chan massaged his prostate and could only weakly moan and whimper. "Channie - stop," he gasped. "I'm gonna-."

"Just a little more, you sound so pretty," Chan told him and lovingly kissed him. 

Minho's eyes rolled back, and he could tell he was close. "Channie, love, please," he begged. 

Chan giggled softly before pulling his fingers out and kissing him calmingly. 

-

"Where the hell are Chan and Minho hyung?" Changbin asked after a while, getting irritated about them being late. 

"I don't think they're in the mood for dinner," Seungmin answered, rolling his eyes. 

"Chan has been on the edge for weeks now, and Minho gets a load of it right in his face," Jeongin added. 

"Like, why would he snap at him? He literally told him that he was making a mistake like everyone else," Hyunjin frowned. 

"Have you seen how tired Minho hyung looked today?" Jeongin asked and played with his glass. "Something's off." 

"You think they had a fight?" Seungmin asked. "They were sneaking around and looked so happy just a few weeks ago." 

"They almost seemed like a couple," Changbin nodded. 

Felix exchanged a look with Jisung. "Uh, should we just start without them?" 

"Yeah, the food will get cold," Jisung quickly agreed, and the rest gave in. 

-

Minho met his reflection in the mirrors at the ceiling and couldn't help but moan at the sight of them. The way Chan's body moved on top of his, thrusting into him steadily. Minho had one hand buried in his hair, the other one resting between his shoulders. Chan was going a little rougher than usual, and it drove him insane. Minho was sure the grip he had on his thigh would leave bruises, but somehow, he didn't mind. All he could do was moan as his dick massaged his walls perfectly, and once Chan hit his prostate, he arched up against him. Chan wrapped his arm around his waist, keeping him up like that and thrusting into him deep and hard. Minho's eyes rolled back, and his nails buried in his back. His mouth dropped open with a string of curses and beautiful whiny moans as Chan kept going at that pace. Chan's lips attacked his neck once more, and Minho felt so overwhelmed he came on the spot. 

He barely had time to recover as Chan kept going, chasing his own relief. Minho whimpered weakly at the overstimulation and pulled at Chan's hair harshly. "Chan, slo-." A surprised gasp left his lips as Chan hit his prostate once again. And again, and again. Minho's body shook with waves of pleasure as he gripped him tightly. He didn't even notice Chan reaching his high as he came a second time. Minho panted softly and groaned in protest as Chan pulled out. 

Chan looked down at him, gently wiping a tear off his cheek. "You're okay?" he asked. 

"Yeah," he nodded before squinting his eyes at him, trying to ignore the fact Chan had just made him cry from overstimulation. "What was that?" 

"That was me letting off steam," he confessed and searched Minho's eyes. 

"Huh," he nodded. "A warning would've been nice." 

"A warning?" Chan asked and dropped down on the floor next to him. 

"Hey baby, just so you know, I'm still pissed at you, so I'll go a little rough now. Have fun," Minho said, mocking Chan's typical hand gestures with ease. 

Chan giggled softly and took his hand. "I'm not pissed at you, though." 

Minho turned his head to him and smiled as Chan brushed his hair out of his forehead for him. "The sex was that good?" he teased. 

"I…Min," he whined, and Minho started laughing. 

"I'm just teasing you, relax," he grinned. 

"We should probably join them for dinner," he sighed. 

"If I'm able to walk, sure thing," Minho nodded. "If they ask, I'll tell them you beat me up for embarrassing their leader in front of everyone." 

"Minho!" Chan protested. 

Minho giggled softly before pulling him into a kiss. "I'm joking. Next time you want to go rough, just tell me." 

"Mhm, okay," he mumbled against his lips. 

"Maybe I can show you the dance steps in private again?" he offered, and Chan's face softened. 

"I think I could use that," he nodded. "My brain's a little slow at the moment." 

"Which is fine; it happens, love," he assured him before pushing himself up. "Come on." 

-

Felix looked up as they strolled in later, wearing fresh clothes. Minho was wearing his glasses now, looking even more tired than before. Chan walked in first, holding Minho's hand, who was a step behind him and led him to the table. All eyes were on them as they sat down next to each other, and Chan poured Minho something to drink. "Will you stop staring, or should we charge some money?" 

"Are you two alright?" Seungmin asked, frowning. 

"Of course, we are," Chan told them and poured himself a drink before filling Minho's plate. 

"Well, it sure didn't look like it today…or three days ago. Or-" 

"Got it, Seungmin," Chan snorted. 

"Whatever it is, it's killing the team spirit," Jeongin pointed out, and Chan froze in his movement. 

Minho gently placed his hand on his thigh beneath the table. "Arguments happen, especially since there are eight of us. You're just not used to Chan hyung and me fighting." 

"We're not used to Chan hyung looking depressed for two weeks straight, and you look like you'll pass out soon because you're sleep-deprived," Hyunjin told them. 

"Also, you never fight," Jeongin frowned. 

Chan shifted in his seat a little. "I've been having two shit weeks, okay? Minho tried to be there for me, but I pushed him away repeatedly, which is why things were a little tense." 

"What do you mean you had two shit weeks?" Changbin squinted his eyes at him. 

"Sometimes everything gets a little too much; we've all felt down because of that before. Now stop bugging and eat," Minho spoke up, and Seungmin started to protest but quickly closed his mouth as Minho raised his eyebrows at him. 

“Where’s that bruise from?” Jeongin asked suspiciously, pointing at Minho’s jaw. He was the first one to address it.

“I tripped on the balcony,” he said. Jisung, Changbin, and Felix exchanged a short look while Chan kept his eyes on his plate.

“I thought you hated being on your balcony because of the height?” he frowned.

“Just eat, for fucks sake,” Minho cut him off.

"Okay, mum," Jeongin rolled his eyes but started eating. 

Chp. 5 | Chp. 7

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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[pricechecktranslations]

去り人達のワルツ：悪ノ大罪 SEKAI Edition　-Album-

Waltz of the Deceased: The Deadly Sins of Evil, SEKAI Edition album booklet content

Opening

Format...

.

At the death of the sinful world, the people's souls decided to leave this land behind.

Once they passed through the enormous gate, they would lose all of their memories in exchange for a new life.

"The memories of those who are reborn will be reformatted"

That was a rule of this world.

.

If...

.

What if, for example, the Daughter of Evil hadn't been a princess?

What if it had been her burdened with a curse, instead of her father?

All people had possibilities like that.

The Evil Food Eater resolved to set out on a new journey to learn them all.

.

But she still didn't yet know.

That her soul, just like her body, wasn't something that would last forever.

.

Repeat...

.

If only I could do it over again.

Someone, no, everyone has thought that at least once.

She couldn't just give up on this world.

If she could just return back to the outset, maybe it would turn out better this time.

With those thoughts in her mind, perhaps the Sleep Princess loved this world more than anyone.

.

Each time she repeated, it would scrape away at her soul,

Guiding her to yet further madness.

.

End...

.

Punishment was handed down.

And so in that case, accepting that punishment was in itself another answer.

"Are you not going?"

At the tailor's question, the mud king laughed and replied:

"Kids tend to dislike having their parents looking in on their room."

The judge listening in next to him nodded in understanding, and returned a smile.

.

We are all free.

No matter what world we choose.

There is no distinction between good and evil there.

.

But we can be sure that we lived here on this land.

Even if we forget about it, that fact can never be erased.

.

For those who will set out on their journey.

Before they lose their memories.

Let's throw them a final dinner party at least.

.

Come, let's dance

This Waltz of the Deceased.

.

[Blurb after Waltz of the Deceased and before Rilia-renee]

He heard tell that he'd had an impostor,

Who had shown up and just gone around doing whatever he liked.

.

The great merchant was a bit sullen on finding this out,

And so his beloved daughter, eager to cheer him up, had made this suggestion:

.

"Have you thought about holding an entertainment banquet?"

.

Certainly, that was one of the great merchants' specialties.

Yes, perhaps this place...could use a song.

He would need someone to sing to set the stage for a ball.

.

The great merchant reached out to his favorite diva,

But she quietly shook her head.

.

"I've already finished my final song. You should ask someone else."

.

But could there possibly be another diva better than her out there?

After asking around, the great merchant finally arrived at a certain girl.

.

He'd heard that she'd been a diva of great renown in the Republic of Lucifenia,

Around the beginning of Evillious' sixth century.

.

A little doubtful, the great merchant spoke up to this girl

Whose appearance was far plainer than rumor would suggest.

.

"Do you think you could sing a little for me?"

.

A few seconds after hearing her voice as she timidly broke into song,

The great merchant decided to hire her for the job.

[Blurb after Rilia-renee and before Outlaw and Marionette]

This world still had several problems left in it to worry about,

And those had needed to be addressed before the banquet.

.

There were those who tried to continue fighting after they had died.

They were the living dead who wandered the wasteland.

Thanks to the actions of those who had worked under the mud king's orders,

This saw a decisive resolution.

But at the same time, it revealed a new cause for concern.

.

The king made of mud called out to the witch who had once been his subordinate.

Her form had by then completely changed from the one that he knew,

But that particular discussion wasn't what he wanted to ask her about then.

"Just what in the world is this 'Punishment'?"

That was what he asked her.

"...A 'doll'. Just like you and I."

The mud king had been created by a black bird.

The Clockworker's Doll had been created by a red cat.

And the boy of Punishment had been created by...

"The root of all malice"

.

But a doll doesn't necessarily have to move according to the intentions of their creator.

Just as had been the case with the king made of mud and the Clockworker's Doll.

The boy of Punishment had begun to move by his own will...and left this world behind.

"Amostia...That was that boy's name,"

That was what the witch told him, moon-eyed.

"There's nothing we can do about it now.

I have no idea where he or her have gone off to."

.

Would the boy of Punishment bring yet another world to destruction?

Or perhaps...

#()evillious chronicles #()mothy #()booklets #the new song might take a minute but the album booklet is done at least