#Eden its an endless world

[bozemane]

[manga-and-stuff]

Source: Eden: It's an Endless World! エデン

by Hiroki Endo

[limeadeless]

Reading Eden:it’s an endless world right now… this tickles my little liberal bones

[tranzangledlozengeggbutt]

[transangledlozengeggbutt]

[tightjeansjavi]

Slow Hands | Chapter 8

“If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself”

A/N: This chapter has taken me weeks to write, but I am so happy with the final results. This is another doozy, so tread carefully. Thank you for your endless support and love. 🤍

~word count: 7.0k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: Joel tells you what happened to him and Ellie before they returned to Jackson.

Warnings: angst, anxiety, trauma, mentions of death, child loss, grief, fluff, flirting, another almost kissing situation, lots of flashbacks, mentions of a miscarriage, mild alcohol consumption, Joel gets a little shy, hurt, comfort, protective! Joel, Joel whump, mentions of alcohol consumption, self deprecating thoughts/actions, anger, frustration, alluding to past traumas, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, reader's nickname is beanie (coffee beans) +18, minors dni! heed the warnings please this is a very very heavy chapter.

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Angie was a real sweetheart. A country classic that you’d want to play over and over again. Toffee butter sweet with pure southern charm. She was one of the kitchen staff ladies working in the mess hall. She loved to cook. She prepared food straight from her soul that warmed the hearts, and kept all the bellies full in Jackson. Her bubbly spirit was a decoy to mask her ceaseless grief that weighed heavy on her mangled heartstrings that were poorly sewn back together with a dull needle and thread. She recently went through a misscarriage. The brutal endless cycle of life in all its beauty and cruelty swinging like a pendulum. Angie was forever grateful when you and Joel appeared on her doorstep with Honey the fawn tucked protectively in your arms.

“She miscarried last fall. Right before the leaves started turnin.’” He whispered softly to you as he reached up and thrummed his knuckles against the chipped paint on the wooden doorframe.

Angie struggled to let go of her loss. She held onto the hand-me down infant clothes. The baby booties, swaddling cloths and the bottles. Grief causes even the strongest people to break as the world as they know it shatters around them. They try to claw and grasp what little remains of that person, whether they existed in the world yet did not matter. Angie took one look at that innocence bundled in your arms and she immediately darted off to the kitchen. She returned moments later with a swaddling cloth and baby bottle that showed the faint remnants of little hearts and flowers. The decals were peeling upwards like a bandaid, but it was a small token of kindness that this poor woman had to offer for the cost of nothing.

Joel thanked her with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. Tender hands that could bruise, tender hands that could heal.

Angie only could nod as she quickly wiped away her dewy tears that rolled down her cheeks and dripped down the curve of her chin. Her eyes were glassy, her lower lip trembled under the soft blooming glow of the porchlight overhead. She reached one quivering hand out to gently stroke the soft fur on Honey’s head.

A moment of silence followed by the swishing sound of the front door slamming shut.

Oh, Angie. You deserved so much better than the cards you were dealt.

The walk back to Joel’s home was one in deafening silence. He kicked a stray rock along the ground with the toe of his boot as his arms hung at his slides. He appeared to be deep in thought as you tried to meet his gaze. He was as hard as a stone with furrowed brows. Grief was so prominent, even in a town that was built around ‘peace.’ Grief was there in every corner. Every crack and crevice down to a grain of rice. Even in a garden of Eden, grief sprouted from the stems.

“She likes you.” He murmured gently as he pushed open his front door with a soft huff through his chapped lips. “Honey.” He added.

“I hope she survives the night.” Was the first thought that popped up into your mind as you met his thoughtful gaze.

“She will. She’s n’good hands with you’n me.” He reassured you as his hand came to gently rest along your lower back as he nudged you tenderly inside as the front door softly swung shut behind you.

Honey had curiously peeked her head up from the safety of your flannel to observe her new surroundings as you slowly walked towards the well loved couch in the living area. Your knees cracked noticeably as you sank down onto the cushion.

“Y’want anythin’ to eat or drink while I warm some milk up for our little one?” Joel asked you as he padded towards the kitchen. Seconds later you heard the soft squeak of the refrigerator door opening as you sunk further into the plush cushions.

“Oh, that’s alright. Thank you for asking.”

“Not a problem, darlin.’” He hummed soothingly under his breath as he turned the burner on the stove. Once the milk was adequately warm, but not too hot, he poured it into the baby bottle. It was hard for a wave of nostalgia to not pass through him as he slowly blinked.

“S’matter baby girl? Y’want your baba? S’okay, daddy’s gonna get it for ya.” a considerably younger Joel spoke to baby Sarah in her crib. On the nights she couldn’t sleep, he’d fix her a warm bottle of milk and rock her to sleep on the old rocking chair that he and Tommy built with their bare hands. He’d sing lullabies in her ear and kiss her little head of soft curls.

Fuck.

He stared down at the baby bottle that was nearly engulfed by the sheer mass of his hand as his thumb slowly brushed across one of the peeling faded floral decals.

Fuck.

Keep it together, Joel.

Be still, my foolish heart. Be still.

Please.

God, please.

I’m good.

I’m fine.

Really, I’m okay.

God, she was so tiny.

Used to nearly fit in the palm of my hand.

Remember when she would cry and cry and cry?

Only person that could calm her down was you.

“Joel?” Your voice sounded so far from his reach as if he was across the ocean desperately trying to hone in the almost sweet music of your voice. Not here, not now. Please. He couldn’t shake the feeling of crisp trepidation as he slowly sunk down to his knees in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Breathe.

Breathe.

In and out.

Through your nose, out through your mouth.

Y’can do it.

She was so tiny. So pure. She was my babygirl.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to wail and throw his fists up towards the heavens but instead he sat in stoic silence as his ears rang like a mocking symphony that had him cowering from the harsh reality that he was presently facing.

“Joel?..” There you were again, but closer. Much closer as you went to investigate. The sight that laid before you took your breath away in a morbid fashion. Joel Miller on his knees looking like a man that had the weight of the world constantly pushing down on his aching shoulders. He was vulnerable in this state. He looked ten times smaller with his chin tightly tucked into his collarbone as if he was trying to appear as small as physically possible.

Your heart split in two to see him in this state as you slowly sank down to your knees in front of him. Grief was indescribable. It gnawed at a person with jagged teeth and sharp claws. A constant reminder that what you once held in your grasp, was no longer attainable. It was ripped from the roots, dry and brittle as precious life is stolen so swiftly.

His lips moved as he struggled to speak. To say anything, but nothing. No words could be formed as he stared down at the bottle in his hand. The slightest flinch from your unsuspecting touch upon his cheekbones as the palms of your hands gently caressed his face. “You okay?..” You asked in a hushed tone, keeping the octave of your voice level and gentle.

“No.” He murmured in defeat as his freehand slowly traveled up the length of your arm before resting along your cheek with the utmost delicate care.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You wanted to give him that choice. The open space to speak his feelings only if he chose to.

“Dunno. I jus’ needed to sit down.” He confirmed with a soft wheeze as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

“That’s okay, Joel. Sitting is good. It’s alright to rest. I’m right here.” You were, and you weren’t going anywhere.

“She was jus’ so tiny. Tiniest lil bean. With the cutest toes. A button nose. Used to have to give her a bottle at night when she couldn’t sleep. Would sit with her in the rockin’ chair for hours, singin’ her lullabies.” He croaked out as his chin slowly lifted as his dull faded eyes met yours.

You knew he was speaking of Sarah, and you also recognized his silent desperation for comfort. The baby bottle clutched in his trembling hand was the root cause for his current episode. Loss was so difficult to rationally explain sometimes. It was something that couldn’t be journalized as being the same for every person, because every single human being reacted in a different way. Loss was universal, and inevitable, but dealing with the grief that followed was structurally diverse in its nature.

“She was one lucky baby, getting to have you as her father. She loves you so much, Joel. She’s right here.” You slowly dropped one of your hands down from his face and gently rested it against the left side of his chest, right where his heart lay. “She’s always going to be right here.”

“Jus’ miss her so much. S’been creepin’ up on me lately. Feel like I’m seein’ her everywhere.” He felt discouraged as he slowly shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Thank you for being here with me. You don’t understand how much that means to me. To have..someone jus’ understand me.”

“I know how much you miss her, Joel. It’s better to let yourself feel everything instead of bottling it all up. I know how much it means to you. I’ll always be here to listen, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Hope to have you till the end of my days.

“Should–should probably give this to Honey before it gets too cold..” He trailed off as his thumb gently brushed across your cheekbone.

“Do you want to give it to her?..I bet she’d love it if you did. After all, you are the one who saved her.” You offered purely to encourage him only if he desired to.

“I’d love that. Help me up? Knees are feelin’ a little stiff.”

“Mine too.” You murmured as you slowly stood up and offered him your hand.

A ghost of a smile crossed over his features as he grasped your hand in his and pulled himself up from the floor.

He followed you into the living room where Honey was curled up in a fluffy little ball on the end of the couch. Her head perked up when she could smell the milk in the bottle as she struggled to stand on wobbly legs. Joel was right there to aid her as he gently scooped her up under his arm. Her fluffy little white tail wagged excitedly as she let out soft little bleating noises that sounded more like squeaks if anything.

“S’alright, baby. Got your bottle right here f’ya. Daddy’s got it for ya.” He softly cooed to the tiny creature.

You swore you saw a silent tear trail down his weathered cheek when Honey began to nurse from the baby bottle all the while he was gently petting down her tawny colored ears, and humming under his breath soothingly.

When Honey had consumed every last drop from the bottle she curled up right against Joel’s chest. She felt safe in the presence of you and Joel, which was quite obvious from the way she made herself right at home. Joel was careful to not disturb the sleeping creature as he reached his arm over and set the now empty bottle onto the nearby coffee table. The two of you fell into a comfortable relaxed silence, until the rumbling of Joel’s stomach interrupted it. The last meal he had was around breakfast time, and there wasn’t much substance to it. A cup of coffee, slightly rubbery scrambled eggs, and toast with butter. His appetite had been long forgotten since he and Tommy had stumbled upon the gruesome scene of the deceased doe while on patrol. Time seemingly had gone by in a whirlwind, and judging by the late evening light, it was far past dinnertime.

He shifted uncomfortably when his stomach rumbled again. This time it caught your attention from where you were sitting on the opposite end of the couch. You were currently reading one of Joel’s many coffee table books. Exploring Space, Dinosaur facts, The American Mustang, Woodworking for Dummies. You had chosen The American Mustang, and as soon as you heard his stomach grumble for the 5th time, you gently closed the book with your finger holding the page down before you looked over at him.

“Did you eat today, Joel?”

“Jus’ a bite of breakfast this mornin.’ Coffee, toast, and slightly rubbery eggs. Had the pan on a bit too high.” He softly responded as he lifted his chin slightly in your direction.

“I didn’t have much to eat today either. I could make us something?”

“Darlin,’ you ain’t gotta do that. You’re my guest after all. It wouldn’t be right if I just let ya cook f’me.” He was already attempting to gently lift Honey from her curled up position on his chest when you reached your hand out and gently grasped his forearm.

“Joel, it’s okay. I really don’t mind at all. We both should eat something.” You gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze before you pushed yourself up from the couch.

His eyes slowly followed your movements into the kitchen as he let out a deep sigh. “Y’know, it’s times like these where I wish that takeout still existed. What I wouldn’t do for a pizza right now.” He mumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Dominos, or Papa Johns? You better answer wisely, Miller.” You peeked your head around the corner with a playful smile playing on your lips.

“S’that even a question? Papa Johns. I’d order extra of those goddamn garlic sauces because the amount they gave you was truly never enough. I wish they would have started selling it in tubs or somethin.’” He stifled a chuckle. “Dominos was a last minute resort that I regretted every goddamn time.”

“That garlic dipping sauce was to die for. There was also that really good family owned pizza place on Main Street. Napoli Per Tutti I think is what it was called? They had the best Neapolitan pizza that I ever had the pleasure of trying.” You chatted casually as you opened his fridge.

“Darlin,’ you’re killin’ me over here with all this pizza talk. I actually never tried that place before. Sarah mentioned it a few times, but we Millers like to stick to our roots.” He chimed in as he managed to very carefully, and very gently, move Honey off of his chest and onto the couch where he then proceeded to cocoon her in a blanket that was draped across the armrest of the couch.

“I don’t know the first thing about making a Neapolitan pizza, but I can certainly try? That’s assuming that you have all the basic ingredients of course.” You could hear the wooden floorboards creak under the weight of his feet as you slowly turned around with your arms across your chest. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

He sheepishly grinned and rubbed the back of his neck with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Can’t stay away when there’s pizza involved, darlin.’”

“Fair enough. All we’ll need for the dough is flour, yeast, water, salt, and I think olive oil?”

“Well, we definitely have flour..water and salt. Olive oil maybe, but does it expire? I haven’t done much cookin’ around here lately so I really don’t know what I've got in the cupboards.” He stepped around you with his arm just barely grazing yours as he opened up one of the many cupboards in the kitchen. “I’ll be damned. Guess we do have yeast and olive oil jus’ layin’ around here.” He reached for the packet of yeast and the bottle of olive oil before setting them down on the counter.

There was something oddly comforting for the two of you to be putzing around the kitchen like an old married couple. You fit right into Joel’s domestic budding life without even grasping the idea of it just yet. You worked together at making the dough, but once it came down to the kneading part, you let Joel take over. Maybe it was your cheeky plan all along to see his hands at work, or perhaps it was totally innocent. Regardless, it was hard to not let your wandering eyes drift across his exposed skin where he had rolled up the sleeves of his flannel revealing strong, veiny forearms. Some areas of his skin were littered in scars, and indentations from years of survival, but his hands were the main part of the show. Strong, weathered, yet gentle as he didn’t want to knead the dough too much. The tendons in his fingers flexed as his eyes drifted upwards towards you.

Gotcha.

“Like what ya see?” He rasped with a teasing grin.

Fuck, were you really staring that long?

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as a nervous laugh bubbled up your throat. You struggled to find your words. “Joel, i’m so sorry I shouldn’t–”

“Hey, Beanie? S’alright. You can stare for as long, and as much as you’d like.” He reassured you with a slight nod of his head.

So, this is where you flirt back.

OH!

Right.

“You just..have really attractive hands.” You murmured softly.

Joel cocked a brow at your answer as he looked over at you. “My..hands? What about ‘em are attractive?” He held the same genuine curiosity like the time you had complimented his eyes.

“Well they’re just..strong looking? Maybe that’s not the right verbiage that I'm going for here.” You trailed off.

“S’you don’t mind that they’re a lil rough lookin'?’ Take this hand for example, I’m pretty sure it never really properly healed after I beat the livin’ daylights outta a FEDRA soldier shortly after Tess and I agreed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Sometimes I’ll get like these ghost pains n’my knuckles is what I like to call ‘em.” He shrugged as he grabbed a towel to wipe the flour off from his hands.

“No, I don’t mind at all. I’d honestly be surprised if your hands weren’t at least a little bit damaged. Y’know? I get what you mean with the ghost pains. I get them too, but usually in my wrists and ankles. It’s almost like a tingling sensation.”

Joel felt his heart slowly sink to the pit of his stomach like the sun gradually dipping behind the horizon. It was easy for him to draw the conclusion as to why you’d feel these sensations in your wrists and ankles. There were visible scar indentations along the inside of your wrists. Based on the scarred tissue, it was probably due to them being bound together by zip ties, rope, or possibly even chains. He felt a shiver roll down his spine when he remembered the charred women in the forest having their wrists and ankles bound together by chains.

“Well, I think your hands are beautiful too, Beanie.” He murmured.

I think you're more beautiful than the stars, sun, and moon combined.

You smiled at him. That same soft smile that sent his heart beat skipping every time he was graced by the simple beauty of it. It was as if there was a magnetic force between the two of you that was working on overdrive to bring the two of you closer in proximity.

“Thank you, Joel. I’ve got a real nasty nail biting habit that spurs up every so often. I guess..after you brought me home from the bar, I absolutely tore my nails to shreds, but I had no recollection of it happening..”

“If it makes ya feel any better, I also have a nasty habit of picking at the skin around my nails till it bleeds. Ellie’s yelled at me for it numerous times, but no matter what I do, I can’t stop.”

“Maybe we can help each other break these habits? Or, at least show encouragement when we’re struggling?” You suggested.

“Yeah, I'd like that a lot actually. It’ll be a good way to hold ourselves accountable. Lord knows I need to sometimes.” He agreed. “Well, this dough is gonna have to sit for a bit before we can roll it out..whad’ya wanna do in the meantime?” He had his hands resting along the edge of the countertop that was lightly dusted in flour as he awaited your response.

“That’s a good question. Do you happen to have any records? Maybe we could listen to one? I have a good feeling in my bones that you have impeccable music taste.” You mused with a small grin spreading across your lips.

“Y’know, I actually do have a box of records in the living room. They ain’t mine, unfortunately. They were here when I moved in. There’s a lot of classics in the collection though. I’m sure we can find somethin’ that we both enjoy.” He tilted his head towards the direction of the living room.

You let Joel lead the way as he showed you the box containing the records. There was everything from the Beatles, Prince, Queen, Zeppelin, Frank Sinatra, and so on. “Well,” You started, “whoever lived here, clearly loved their music.”

“Ain’t that right.” his tone was slightly rasped as you made yourself comfortable on the floor with your legs crossed.

“You want a pillow?” He asked softly. “Might be a lil’ more comfy.”

You gave him a small nod in response as you began to carefully flip through the record albums.

He grabbed two pillows from the nearby couch without disturbing Honey before he joined you on the floor.

“Who’s your favorite? I know it’s a tough choice t’make. I don’t even think I could narrow mine down to five.” He chuckled warmly as he rested his weight back on his hands.

“Oh, gosh. I also don’t know if I could narrow it down..Stevie is definitely at the top of my list.”

“Ah, yeah. She was incredible. I was a big fan of Linda Ronstadt back in the day. Although, growin’ up, there wasn’t a song or artist that I didn’t enjoy.”

You slowly looked over at him as your fingers gently played with a torn edge on one of the records. “Was music a big part of your life?..Before, y’know.” You chose your words carefully as you watched him take a deep inhale.

“Yeah, it was. Used to be a big dreamer, believe it or not. Always wanted t’be a singer. Taught myself how to play the guitar, wrote a few songs here and there. None of them were very good, but I got a lotta joy out of it. Then when Sarah was born, I knew I had’to hold down a real job, and push that dream to the backburner. Spent a lot of time playin’ the guitar for her though. She loved it. Used to tease me n’tell me that I had a god awful singin’ voice.” He snickered.

Your giggle was soft, sweet, floating like a warm breeze. “Hey, I’m sure your singing isn’t that bad! It's wonderful that you found a lot of joy in that hobby. What about now? Do you still play the guitar here and there? Perhaps..sing in the shower like the rest of us?”

“Wouldn’t ya like t’know?” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully in your direction. “Yeah, I’ve picked it up here n’there. Started writin’ some lyrics as well. Maybe..one day I can play for ya? Give ya your own lil’ private concert, front row.”

“Yeah, you dork. That’s why I'm asking!” You giggled. “Wow, a private concert, just for me? Well, I'd be honored.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, “don’t go gettin’ your hopes up jus’ yet, but I think I can manage.” He shot you a subtle, yet playful wink. “Now, whad’ya got there? Frank Sinatra, You Make Me Feel So Young?”

“An oldie, for the oldies.”

“I ain’t that old, darlin.’” He scoffed playfully.

“Mhm. Let’s face it, we’re a little old, but silver looks good on you.”

“Not nearly as good as it looks on you.” He countered smoothly.

“Charming.”

“Jus’ tellin’ the truth, darlin.’”

“And they say chivalry is dead.” You were looking directly into his eyes which naturally sent a blush rising to his cheeks. Yeah, he had it pretty bad.

“Y’wanna give it a listen?” He offered with a sheepish grin.

“Absolutely.”

He reached for the vinyl, fingers gently brushing yours as he gently removed it from your grasp before he stood up. He shuffled over to the nearby record player that had been neglected for years. He blew off a bit of dust buildup that had naturally settled along the surface before he placed the vinyl down carefully.

The needle slowly fell into place as the old turntable crackled to life, flooding the small expanse of the room in sweet music.

You make me feel so young

You make me feel so Spring has sprung

And every time I see you grin

I'm such a happy individual

Joel watched the way your eyes suddenly lit up, bright, glassy, beautiful. Your energy was infectious as his knuckles lightly thrummed along the hardwood. He wanted to ask you to dance, to make up for what happened at the Tipsy Bison. Why was he so apprehensive? What did he have to fear?

Connection. Intimacy. Devotion.

You seemed to recognize the inner turmoil he was presently facing almost immediately. The nervous thrumming of his knuckles, the way his brows furrowed inward as if he was deep in thought. The light unmistakable pursing of his lips.

“Hey, Joel?”

He blinked once before his eyes hesitantly met yours, “Yeah, darlin?’”

“You wanna dance with me?..It can be like a redo for our first date?” Your thoughtful suggestion was as comforting as a warm summer breeze as his fingers absentmindedly inched closer towards yours.

“Y’wanna make up for that night?..Beanie, we don’t gotta–I mean..only if you want to?” He was nearly stumbling over his words by the time you had gently grabbed his hand and interlaced your fingers through his.

“C’mon,” You replied with a small smile tugging on the corner of your lips. “Dance with me, Joel.”

His hesitation was evident, at first, but your gentle smile, and kind eyes eased his nerves as you both slowly stood to your feet. You could feel how clammy his palm felt around your own as his other hand slowly dropped to his side. He wanted to hold your waist, but after everything that happened, he was apprehensive.

“It’s okay, Joel.” You reassured him as your free hand dipped down to his side and delicately wrapped your hand around his wrist before coaxing his hand to rest around your waist.

“I’m a shit dancer, honey.” He murmured low and soft as his fingers slightly flexed against your waist.

“Joel, don’t overthink it. Just dance.” You encouraged him with a reassuring smile.

When his nerves slowly began to dissipate, he fell into a rhythm as he spun you around playfully. He was less worried about accidentally stepping on your toes, and more focused on the way the soft glow of the kitchen lighting bounced off your skin. How pretty you looked. How your eyes never seemed to leave his. The increased thrum of his heart drowned out the soothing crackle from the tabletop. All he could see was you.

It was as if a magnet was slowly pulling you in closer. The gravitational pull, foreheads touching, noses brushing, exchange of breaths. So close. So close. You could nearly taste him on your tongue–

“Beanie..” He breathed out. Pausing. Thinking. Just ask her. The worst she can say is no.

“Can I–”

“Please. Please kiss me, Joel.” Your thoughts were swirling, tumbling like a shaken up jar of marbles. You wanted him so bad. Terribly. You wanted and yearned to know what it possibly felt like to be kissed by Joel Miller. The moment was there in your grasps, and gone in a flash from the distinct creaking sound of the front door opening.

Ellie’s footsteps were soft along the floorboard as she pulled the door shut behind her. She was hoping that Joel wasn’t home. She wasn’t ready to confront him after what took place at the Tipsy Bison just a few nights prior. She was still hurting. Her curiosity got the best of her in the end when she saw that the kitchen light was on.

“Joel?..” She rounded the corner, eyes going wide, cheeks turning a deep bright red as she caught the moment you and Joel nearly kissed. She squeaked a fast apology, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” before darting out of the room like a bat out of hell.

You and Joel were startled by her presence to say the least. His eyes went wide before he was dropping his hand from your waist. He murmured an apology of his own before he slipped out of the kitchen to follow his kid.

“Ellie, wait! Kiddo, can we please–” He was hot on her heels as she scurried up the stairs and b-lined to her bedroom. If he was there a second sooner, he would have stopped her from slamming the door in his face.

“Kiddo, please. I jus’ wanna talk.” He sounded gravely defeated as his forehead came to rest upon the chipping paint on her bedroom door. He could hear her muttering to herself as she stuffed her backpack with overnight clothes.

Moments later the door flung open as she brushed past him with her bag slung over her shoulder.

“Ellie.” He tried one more time.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Joel. Sorry for interrupting your date.” She muttered before jogging down the staircase.

“Kiddo, please. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to Dina’s.” Was her short response. He could detect the hurt in her voice as he pathetically watched her disappear through the front door once more. The entire house was silent as he scrubbed a weathered hand across his patchy beard. Healing took time, he reminded himself. It didn’t happen overnight, but fuck. He missed his baby girl so much.

The old floorboards of the staircase groaned under his heavy footsteps as he trudged back down the stairs. His brain was telling him that it was time to call it a night. Send you home so you didn’t have to witness his pain at the forefront. His heart told him differently. His heart urged him to seek out your comfort, so he did.

He found you right in the kitchen where he left you. You had just taken the freshly made pizza dough out of the fridge and set it out on the counter. Your eyes slowly flitted upwards at the sound of his footsteps.

“Hey, I think the dough is ready to be rolled out. Want to give me a hand?”

Bless you.

“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry for runnin’ off like that. She’s been avoidin’ me since that night at the Tipsy Bison.” He admitted in a hushed tone.

“It’s okay, Joel. You don’t have to apologize for that. Did you..want to talk about it?”

“No, not right now. Let's just..make these pizzas. I’m starving.” He sighed, feeling his own mental and emotional exhaustion begin to way down on him like a bag of cement.

He met you on the other side of the counter, shoulders brushing as he pulled out a rolling pin from one of the drawers. You rolled out half the dough in silence together. It was almost as if you were sharing the weight of his present grief, soaking it in and absorbing it like a sponge.

Once the pizzas were dressed and popped in the oven, he wiped down the counter before grabbing a glass from one of the overhead cabinets. “I uh–really could use a drink. Would you like one? I’ve got wine and some spirits.”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, Joel.”

“Whiskey it is then.” He murmured as he grabbed another glass. “I really don’t usually drink. I jus–’ need somethin’ right now.” He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to explain himself to you, but it was too late to take his words back when they were already spoken.

“Joel, you don’t have to give me a reason as to why you need a drink right now. We all have our vices, and I hold no judgment towards yours.”

“I know I don’t have to explain myself to you, Beanie. I’m jus–’ I'm not okay right now. I don’t know whether I should laugh, cry, punch a fucking wall in.” He muttered bitterly as closed the cabinet door a bit too harshly. He shuffled past you to the wet bar area where he snatched up the bottle of whiskey with trembling fingers. He popped the cap off with his teeth as he poured a hefty splash of amber-colored liquor into his glass. He was considerate enough to give you half of what he was having.

“Joel, I know you’re not okay right now. Do you want me to?..”

“No.” He croaked softly, “No. I don’t want you to leave, please.” He took a sizable sip from his glass before he returned to your side, sliding your glass over.

“Okay, I won’t go, but is there anything you..need from me?” Your hand slowly grasped the crystal glass before raising it to your lips. The warmth of the liquor coated your insides like sticky molasses. It had a twinge of smoke, finished off with a hint of cinnamon. In short, it was fucking delicious.

“I don’t know.” He admitted somberly before he slowly sank down to the kitchen floor with his back resting against the oak cabinets, and the glass resting in his hand between his knees as his head fell back with a soft thud.

You descended alongside him with your legs outstretched, and ankles crossed. Sometimes all a person needed was a gentle soul. A wordless extended notion of comfort. Sometimes that was enough, but sometimes a person needed more. Whatever Joel needed in those crucial moments, you’d be there.

“Can I be honest with you?” He broke through the growing silence with a heavy huff through his lips.

“Of course.”

“I am fucking terrified of losing every goddamn person that I love, Beanie. I’m terrified of losing my brother. I’m terrified of losing my daughter, and I'm terrified..of losing you. I feel like a broken record that can’t quite find its rhythm because the vinyl is scratched, and the needle keeps catching. Do..you get what i’m sayin?’” His head slowly turned to meet your eyes.

Your heart skipped a monumental beat when he said that he was terrified of losing every person that he loved, and that you had made the cut. (not that there was one to make). You ignored the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and focused on him, and his willingness to rawly communicate with you.

“Joel, I understand why you are terrified, but you haven’t lost Tommy, Ellie, or me. We’re all right here. I don’t think you sound like a broken record at all. Try and show yourself a bit of compassion, okay?”

He stifled a bitter chuckle as he brought the rim of the glass back to his lips. He took another sip before he closed his eyes.

“Beanie, I don’t think you’d be tellin’ me to have some compassion for myself if you knew what I've done, the people I've killed, the choices I've made. I ain’t a good person. No matter how many times I have tried to justify my actions, I ain’t a saint.”

“Joel, do you think that anyone is truly a saint? Do you believe that we’re all innately good? That we’ve never hurt a friend, or said words we didn’t mean? Joel, even if the outbreak never happened, and we didn’t lose the people we loved, we still would be making mistakes. We still would be hurting people whether it was intentional or not. I mean this with full honesty, your past isn’t going to scar me. It isn’t going to make me think of you in a darker light, because goddamnit, we all had to fucking make some hard choices in the name of survival. I’ve killed people too, you know that, right? I lost count years ago. I lost my fucking faith in the shreds left in the remants of humanity until–” you felt yourself choking up with tears welling along your waterline, and your words lodged in your throat, clawing to be set free.

“Beanie–”

“No, please. Please just let me finish, okay? Joel, you’re so incredibly hard on yourself, and hell, we all are. I just want you to realize that you are not a bad person. You’re not a bad man. You’re not some evil monster lurking in the shadows. You’re a fucking human being that has spent over 20 years trying to survive. You have endured and survived up until this point. You and Ellie will be okay. She’s hurting, and so are you, but one day she will forgive you, for whatever it is that you have done. She needs time to heal, and so do you.” You felt mildly exasperated from the energy you were exerting.

Joel was speechless. He was floored as his pupils were blown out wide. His jaw physically dropped. He scrambled to gather his thoughts so that he could come up with a well-rounded response. He struggled with his words, as you knew. All he knew is that he had to be just as vulnerable as you were being.

“I killed an entire hospital of fireflies. I killed every single one of them to save her. To save my Ellie. My light. They were going to kill her, Beanie. Ellie is immune. She’s the only one. Marlene told me that the doctor that was going to perform the surgery on her thinks that the Cordyceps has grown with her since birth. Because it’s adapted to her, it tricks the normal Cordyceps into thinking that Ellie is one of them. That’s the reason why she is immune. Tess and I were taking Ellie to the fireflies because I made a promise to Marlene. It turned into something else along the way. I grew to care for Ellie as if she was my own. I even–I even told her that we didn’t have to keep going. We could come back to Tommy’s and forget all about the fireflies. My baby girl didn’t want that. She wanted to save the fuckin’ world, but she didn’t want to die. I know she didn’t want to die, Beanie. She thought that after it was all said and done, that we would be going home together.

“And when we’re done, we’ll go wherever you want, Joel.” Ellie reassured him.

“Tommy’s, sheep ranch, the moon.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere you go.”

“But there’s no halfway with this.”

“We finish what we started.”

Ellie was determined to use her immunity to save the world, and Joel couldn’t stop her.

“Ellie..is immune?” You whispered softly as the weight of Joel’s words sunk deep into your soul.

“Yes, she is. You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone, Beanie. Not even Maria knows. Only Tommy and I. The rest of the community would turn to chaos if they knew.”

“The fireflies were looking for a cure, and Ellie was the answer? But, Cordyceps–”

“Grow inside the brain.” He deadpanned as he finished off what was left in the contents of his glass. “I did what I had to do to save her, and if I had to go back and do it all over again, I would. She didn’t want to die. She never consented to the surgery. Marlene never gave her the option, and neither did I. The worst bit? Beanie, I lied to her. I told her that there were more people like her. People who were immune. I told her there were dozens like her, and that the doctors couldn’t actually make any of it work. That they’ve stopped looking for a cure entirely.”

“They’ve stopped lookin’ for a cure.”

“Where are my clothes?” Ellie mumbled.

“Raiders attacked the hospital. I barely got ya outta there, kiddo.” he squeezed the steering wheel tightly as he lied through his teeth.

“Were people hurt?..”

“Yes.” He didn’t lie.

“Is Marlene okay?”

Joel paused as he glanced back at his daughter through the rearview mirror.

“I’m takin’ us home.”

“You never told her the truth, did you?” You knew the answer, but you wanted him to confirm it.

“No, I did tell her, and she hates me for lying and taking that choice away from her. She feels like..she holds no purpose in life now, and it’s all my fault.”

“Joel, you did what every parent would have done for their child. Biological or not, she is your daughter. She was in danger, and you saved her. I can’t blame her for the way she currently feels towards you. Her emotions are valid, and you should have never lied to her. You should have told her the truth from the start, but I understand why you didn’t tell her. You felt ashamed of your actions.”

“I just wanted to protect her.” He murmured as his eyes casted downwards.

You reached your hand out and gently grasped his shoulder and gave it a firm, grounding squeeze.

“Joel, you did just that. You protected her. You saved her. You saved the world.”

His own eyes began to water. His lower lip trembled, wobbled with uncertainty as his glassy irises met yours.

“You’re right. I did save the world.”

And then, you were hugging.

His tears and your own fell freely as you cradled his head protectively against your chest with your chin resting gently against the top of his head. Your fingers threaded through his soft salt and pepper tendrils as he enveloped your frame in his strong arms. The oven dinged signaling that the pizza was ready, but neither of you moved an inch.

“Spend the night with me, Beanie. Please.” His words fell heavy on his tongue. His heart begging you with a steady thrum to stay.

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[bloodmoon24]

The Story of the Hell Tribes

Once upon a time, high within the clouds and behind beautiful, golden gates, lies a place known as Heaven. Populated by the beings of pure light that are known as angels. They are responsible to keep peace of their home and all of Earth and shielded all evil away. There is one Angel, named Lucifer Morningstar, who loves to dream and create new and exciting things for Earth to enjoy. To bring free will to humans and let them be with their own lives and happiness. But the elders says that his way of thinking is dangerous and should not be allowed to what Heaven organized for Earth, so he watched from the sidelines as he felt ignored and unimportant

Noticing this, six other beings saw his troubles and went over to comfort him. These beings were Satan, Beelzebub, Mammon, Asmodeus, Leviathan, and Belphagor. These six beings were inspired by his ideas, and they’ve been very supportive of his dreams for Earth. They were so enthralled of his ideas that they would help make his ideas come to light

From the dust of the Earth, two humans were created: Adam and Lilith. The first ever mankind to walk the surface of the Garden of Eden. Adam always craved and demanded for power and control, but Lilith wants to be her own person who doesn’t want to accept his submission, so she fled the garden. Lucifer was so drawn by her rebellious spirit, he went and found her and they laid eyes on each other, the two fell deeply in love. So they both worked together to bring the gift of free will to the rest of humanity. Back within the Garden of Eden, Lucifer and Lilith found Adam’s new wife, Eve, and gifted her the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge and she gladly accepted

But with this gift, it came with a curse. With this single act of disobedience, a new evil found its way into Earth, created a dark pit of darkness and sin. Everything Heaven worked for was shattered. As of punishment for their reckless behavior, Heaven casted Lucifer, his love, and the six beings that supported him into the depths of the darkness that he created. When they fell, they have seen the new world of what Lucifer had created; a land filled with cruel and wicked creatures and wildlife. A place that is now called…Hell. At first, Lucifer thought they wouldn’t survive a day here, but when push comes to shove, him and the six beings managed to rule all over the land and every single creature obeyed their every command

So, one by one, the seven beings each ruled the seven parts of Hell, making their own kingdoms and their own people to rule over. And these kingdoms are named after what are known as the Seven Deadly Sins. Belphagor rules over the floating islands of Sloth, where the Baphomets can do drugs and feel like their worries melt away without a care. Leviathan rules over the depths of the Envy Oceans, where sea demons can be jealous about anyone else as the feel the bitterness of it. Asmodeus rules over the Lust Rainforest, a place where Succubi and Incubi can feel lustful desires without force and still being able to feel the love for their partners. Mammon rules over the Greed Outback, a place where Loan Sharks have selfish desires for wealth, power, or food. Beelzebub rules over the Gluttony Jungle, a place where Hellhounds can enjoy and have an endless satisfaction of food. Satan rules the hot and dry Wrath Desert where Imp demons can let out their bloodthirsty rage and kill to all those that angered them. As for Lucifer, he and Lilith rule over the Pride Forest, a place where Earth born humans go after death when they experienced damn nation of the Deadly Sins they’ve created

And from that moment on, the Seven Deadly Sins ruled all over Hell, their territories, and their people. The population of the Six Territories can travel through the other regions at will, but the Sinners of the Pride Forest are restricted, to never leave unless they have been given permission to from the King of all of Hell himself. After everything Lucifer been through, he still felt very bad after what he has done in Heaven, but he, Lilith, and the rest of the Sins all thrived of their lives. Lilith even starts to singing songs to help encourage all of demon-kind and all of Hell with her voice and music

Seeing this from above, Heaven saw this as a threat and from that, they made a horrible decision. At the end of every year, they would send down an army of Angel soldiers and kill any demon in sight. Making sure Hell and its Demons wouldn’t be able to rise against Heaven and their Angels. But from this, Lucifer and Lilith raised their first ever child; Charlie Morningstar, the Princess of Hell. She has dream to help all Sinners to be a better person and make their way up to Heaven. She sees the good in Demons of Hell and will not stop until those damned souls go to Heaven, so she made a choice to make the Hazbin Plains. A small paradise in the Pride Forest where Sinners can learn and grow to be better and to heal their souls from the evil and sin they have committed when they were alive. Will she succeed into helping all souls in Hell and show Heaven that Sinners can be redeemed and can be given a second chance? We will soon find out and see

[edens-passing-if]

Eden's Passing is a 16+ game made in Twine by me, Doc, and is my first attempt at making an interactive fiction game!

Genre: Primarily Fantasy and Comedy focused with a smidge of Mystery and Horror elements. Do tell me if a separate catagory fits, please!

Warnings: Trauma, Bodily Injury without feeling it, Body Horror in general (more will be added as time goes on, these are what I'm currently certain off)

Demo: In the works!

Alone in a land you can't recall and stuck at the bottom of a seemingly endless ravine, the start of your journey isn't a pleasant one. Body slowly crumbling away, memory missing, and seemingly stuck with a stranger intent on calling you a name you can't remember, your attempts to leave seem fruitless until they finally offer a helping hand. Hopefully with no strings attached.

Set in the world of Nyr, you're just a lost soul trying to figure out who you are and what happened to you.

Features, added or intended:

☆ Fully customizable MC (name, hair, skin color, personality, etc.)

☆ Romantic or Platonic routes, Poly included.

☆ Long Crocodile. You'll see. ♡

☆ Learn more about the world and maybe save it, maybe launch a salamander at someone.

☆ Diverse cast of characters, ethnicities, religions, etc! (Please do tell me if anything's not accurate enough, it's fantasy, yes, but I am using some real-life ethnicities and such as basis!)

☆ A lot of lore. A lot. I made a map. I will do more than just a map. It's inevitable.

Eden's Passing isn't romance focused but, those inclined towards it, does have multiple routes with it.

Zacharie, M, 36(RO)

A 4'11" man with spiky green hair and red tinted glasses. Adventurers clothing, torn at the edges and taped to his body on his limbs, cover most of his skin. What you can see of his skin, primarily his face, has stitches spanning the length and width. No one is allowed to touch them. Beyond that, he seems nice, even when he mutters insults at passing plants or argues with books. But his skittishness towards others is concerning, especially the glint of pure terror he sometimes shows. It's typical to see him hovering around Cassian, primarily either hiding behind him or riding his shoulders.

Solo OR Poly route with Cassian or Florian.

Cassian, M, 29 (RO)

At 6'6, he's the tallest of the group. Long black hair drapes down well past his hips, sometimes being used to hide his eyes from others. Old yet well cared for armor is his ordinary choice of clothing, no matter the situation. Quiet and melancholic, it's hard to catch him smiling at much of anything. Despite that, he's the first to jump into a fight to protect his friends. One of the few people to understand Zacharie, he keeps a firm eye on anyone that might pose a threat to the smaller man. A bit of an enabler, he will turn a blind eye to the more playful deeds his companions wish to take.

Solo OR Poly route with Zacharie.

Florian, Gender Selectable (M/F/NB), 25 (RO)

At 5'3", they're the second shortest of the group. Blond curly and short hair, styled like an odd pixie cut, clashes against the bright red coat they drap over themself. Two antennae stick out from their scalp, twitching at any stimulus. A butterfly bow, which sometimes flaps on its own when Florians distressed, keeps it from falling off. When they're not being pestered by Zacharie or Wynn, they're actually the most sensible of the group. A bit of a motherhen, they do their best to prevent the others from getting into trouble. It's a thankless job, and they aren't even getting paid for it.

Solo OR Poly routes with Wynn or Zacharie.

Wynn, Gender Selectable (M/F/NB), 23 (RO)

A 5'9" elf that's joined the group alongside Florian. Long, pointed, and pierced ears flick every so often, parting their short, light purple hair. Clad in a cape that trails in the air and an outfit that shows off a concerning amount of chest, they aren't the shyest with showing skin. Long pants that hide even their boots cover their legs, yet never get dirty as they drag across the ground. A bit of a flirt, they aren't the type to take much seriously. It's common to see them, Zacharie, and Twig up to no good, typically with Wynn at the lead. A natural born leader, one might be confused why they follow MC's lead, even they seem at odds with that fact.

Solo OR Poly route with Florian.

Twig, NB, 26 (RO)

Looming over at 6'4", they tend to forget just how tall they are. Long purple hair ends as their tail begins, the fluff at the end matching their hair. Thick and curly when short, it covers up their eyes from the view of others. 5 horns sprout up from their scalp, imitating a crown of sorts, and range in size from a few inches to just two. Clad in purple and blue robes that are breathable yet skin-tight, they've had Zacharie modify it to properly accommodate their tail. Out of the group, they remain the friendliest even in the face of adversity. It's... hard for others to tell whether they're simply naive or just too forgiving, but regardless of that, they remain the first to lend their hand when others need it. A bit of a goofball as well, it's easy to catch them trying to pick the funnest option first. Quick to trust and quicker to befriend, one might wish to spare them from the cruelty of the world.

Solo route

???, NB, ??? (RO?)

A figure that stands at 5'10, they're your savior from the pit you woke up in. Long hair, starting black and quickly fading to a bright red, flows from their scalp like tendrils. It flows as if hit by a breeze constantly, regardless of airflow. Clad in only a white robe tied shut at the waist by a sash, it's easy to notice the gaps in their skin. They never answer when it's brought up, leaving you wondering just what has saved you from the ravine. Quick to anger, you'd almost think they're unpredictable if not for the consistent causes and phrases. Regardless of who you are, they insist your name is Eden. Regardless of their affection towards you, they refuse to tell you who they are. They insist you'll figure it out.

Solo route.

[lulu2992]

Exploration of the now-offline Far Cry 5 official websites

Part 3: Game Info 2 (America)

Recovered content

On July 13th, 2017, this is what the Overview, on the Game Info page of the American website, said:

OVERVIEW Welcome to Hope County, Montana, land of the free and the brave, but also home to a fanatical doomsday cult known as The Project at Eden’s Gate that is threatening the community's freedom. Stand up to the cult’s leader, Joseph Seed and the Heralds, and spark the fires of resistance that will liberate the besieged community. In this expansive world, your limits and creativity will be tested against the biggest and most ruthless baddest enemy Far Cry has ever seen. It’ll be wild and it’ll get weird, but as long as you keep your wits about you, the residents of Hope County can rest assured knowing you’re their beacon of hope. Join the Resistance on February 27, 2018, with Far Cry 5. Available on PlayStation 4 system, Xbox One, and PC.

Then, it was moved to the Game Features page and only said this:

OVERVIEW Far Cry 5 is a massive open world that’s filled with something new around every bend. The enemy AI behavior is more realistic and the exploration is almost endless. Even when you feel like taking a break from the campaign, you can take in some leisurely fishing before diving back into your quest. It’s your mission. With it comes the freedom to take on a world that hits back by any means necessary. Join the Resistance now with Far Cry 5. Available on PlayStation 4 system, Xbox One, and PC.

On this Game Features page, which was only archived three times on the Wayback Machine (and remained unchanged at least from May 18th, 2019, to February 7th, 2020), there was also information about Hope County’s three main regions:

REGIONS WHERE ONE MISSION ENDS, ANOTHER BEGINS Three diverse regions and three really bad Heralds stand between you and The Father. How you conquer them is up to you.

HOLLAND VALLEY - John Seed's Region Named for the Dutch immigrants who originally settled here, Holland Valley feels like a postcard from the West. It is home to farms, grazing animals, and a small community named Fall’s End. Because of all the goods that are grown and transformed here, this is also where the cult is planning to reap whatever they need before The Collapse.

HENBANE RIVER - Faith Seed's Region Henbane River was once a place where people came to heal. Its landscape was dotted with cottages, hot springs, and the flowers that give the region its name. Over time the hot springs business fizzled out and the Project at Eden’s Gate moved in. This area is the cult’s heart in Hope County and a place of field labor and worship. Its economy revolves around converting souls into a docile workforce through use of drugs.

WHITETAIL MOUNTAINS - Jacob Seed's Region Whitetail Mountains are a true wilderness where nature’s raw power is on display. Teeming with wildlife, this is a place to hide secrets—from both society and the law. It’s here that the cult is building an army to protect their followers from the Collapse. While Eden’s Gate controls this region, those who reject the cult can also find safe haven here. Preppers and survivalists have encamped themselves in these hidden mountains as they await the right moment to strike.

You could find the Activities as well:

HUNTING Aim a bit off? Practice your marksmanship on some of the wild animals that are roaming throughout the different regions in Hope County. But beware, the animals fight back. FISHING Need a breather from ousting a doomsday cult and their maniacal leader? Take a break and cast a line in any of Hope County's scenic lakes and rivers. WINGSUIT Do you believe you can fly? Nothing says freedom like soaring high above Hope County like a bald eagle. CRAFTING While you make your way through the diverse landscapes of Hope County, Montana, you will encounter all manner of animals and natural resources. Use them to your advantage, when crafting your upgrades.

There was also an introduction to the For Hire system, and notably this:

GUNS FOR HIRE Not only do you have unique skills to bring to the table, so do your Guns For Hire. You can meet and recruit them in the open world, although they may need some help sorting out their own problems before lending you a hand. If you like to travel in numbers, you can recruit up to two for hire at a time, which should help increase your chances of survival.

FANGS FOR HIRE It's not only the human residents of Hope County who are prepared to fight back. As a part of the Guns for Hire system, Fangs for Hire are animal companions for the player. Each is unique, and can enhance whatever playstyle you choose.

“Read More” took you to the News section, to an article titled “Meet Far Cry 5's Characters” (more details in future posts), and another one that was apparently not archived, sadly...

Commentary

The changes in the Overview are interesting to me because they initially called Eden’s Gate “the biggest and most ruthless baddest enemy Far Cry has ever seen”... and then didn’t.

I like that we learn more about the three regions, especially details such as Holland Valley getting its name from the Dutch immigrants who used to live there or the Henbane River being a reference to the flowers that grow in the region. That said, the Bliss flowers we see in Far Cry 5 seem to be inspired by Datura, not Henbane, so I don’t know if this is a mistake or if the developers had other real-life flowers in mind when they came up with the concept of Bliss. Henbane flowers contain the same psychoactive substance as the drug used by the cult: scopolamine (although its hallucinogenic properties were greatly exaggerated in the game).

The site also says we could craft upgrades using “animals and natural resources”, but while plants can indeed be used to make “homeopathics”, crafting upgrades with animal skins, for example, wasn’t a mechanic in Far Cry 5 anymore.

Under the cut are all the available source files, saved directly from the website, of the images you see in the screenshots:

Next to the flag above, on the right, is the (barely visible here) “intaglio” pattern, used in the background of most pages on the site.

Small and barely visible white eagle with a transparent background below.

Small and barely visible white eagle with a transparent background above.

[nerdraging4point0]

Blood of Eden // Part Ten // Noah Sebastian Urban Fantasy AU Fic

Tropes and Tags: MM, MF, MFM, MFM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed men, polyverse, shapeshifters.

CW: 18+ only minors DNI. Urban Fantasy romance, Smut. Angst. Fluff (ish), Story includes D/S themes, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of drug use and distribution, mentions of prostitution, unprotected sex, male receiving oral sex, female receiving oral sex, cuckolding, P/A sex, P/V sex.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Active taglist: @ladyveronikawrites @tearfallpixie @beaker1636 @circle-with-me @synthetic-wasp-570 @itsjustemily @thesazzb @vinyardmauro @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @letmeadoreyoux @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @mysticdoodlez @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @somebodyels3 @sacredthefran @th0ughts-pr4yers @skulliecadaver-blog @hayleylatour @littlefoxkota @anameunmusical @talialovesmiw @sacredthefran @jilliemiw86 @darkmxgician

She never could have imagined that one day she would be standing in a luxurious bathroom showering in a square enclosure big enough to fit four people. From past experience, she knew it was spacious enough for her, Jolly, and Noah to all shower together at the same time if they wanted. A satisfied sigh escaped her lips as she rolled her neck under the hot, invigorating water, missing the presence of her two lovers. Jolly had left early that morning for work, and Noah had worked all through the night and was now fast asleep just down the hall. Everything felt different now, as if she was seeing the world through new eyes - colors seemed brighter, details sharper. She had kept it to herself, but during dinner the night before, as she sat at the table gazing out at the sunset before Noah trotted off for his overnight shift, she realized the sky was no longer just the usual orange and salmon hues she remembered. Now she could see every delicate lining of the clouds as they slowly absorbed the fading rays of the setting sun. The sun's rays themselves seemed almost tangible, like soft wisps and tendrils of heat and light piercing the clouds. As she stared beyond the clouds to the emerging stars, if she looked hard enough, she could almost determine whether each pinprick of light was a planet, an asteroid, or merely a flare of gas in the endless depths of the universe.

After months of illness that had wasted away her body, she was finally beginning to regain her former vitality. As her vision cleared, she eagerly examined her reflection, tracing her hands over contours that had become gaunt and bony. Where protruding ribs and sagging flesh had sharply defined her frame, she now felt the welcoming padding of muscle returning. Her torso was firming, the taught skin smoothing over graceful curves that evoked her younger self. She cupped her breasts, gratified to feel their weight substantial in her hands again, their shape round and supple like ripe fruit. Her buttocks too had regained its plumpness, the bounce unmistakable as she walked. No longer did her body resemble a desiccated husk - it was rehydrating, regenerating, blossoming back to life. The transformation extended to her hair, which had grown coarse and fragile. Now it cascaded in glossy waves down her back, the dark sheen restored. She shook her head lightly, relishing the caress of soft locks against her skin. Everywhere she looked, evidence of her revival. Her body was reclaiming its vitality, and she embraced the renewal with open arms.

Even now sex was more than just something she enjoyed for a fleeting minute.  Last night, when Jolly had scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom, it marked the beginning of an epic encounter that would last for hours. She was ravenous, possessed by a carnal hunger that was demanded to be fed. Her body was starved, aching to be nourished, and sex was the sustenance it desperately needed. She feasted on Jolly with a voracious appetite, taking from him every pleasure-filled bite her body craved. All other needs faded away as they lost themselves in each other - no water, no food, no rest. Just urgent skin against feverish skin. Two bodies entwined in an ancient dance, moving together in perfect synchronicity until every gasp and moan signaled her satisfaction. She clung to him, unwilling to stop until her hunger was fully sated. 

The years of hardship and struggle had worn her down, grinding away her spirit until only a hollow shell remained. Selling her body was the final degradation, the last remnant of dignity stripped away. She felt detached, going through the motions mechanically, but feeling nothing, as if her capacity for joy had been amputated. A protective numbness set in, shielding what was left of her heart. Even the simplest touch felt foreign, an intrusion on flesh that no longer seemed her own. She wondered if she'd ever feel pleasure again, or if that part of her was lost forever. But then she met them. And in their arms, for the first time in years, she remembered what it was to be cared for, to be seen as a person rather than an object. Jolly’s patient affection drew her out of her shell, awakening sensations long dormant. A brush of his hand ignited sparks; a kiss melted her defenses. With him, she rediscovered intimacy, tenderness, ecstasy - the possibility of wholeness. The broken pieces of herself began to knit back together. Though the shadows of her past still lingered, she now had hope of reclaiming everything she'd lost, with this man who made her feel human once more.

Stepping out from under the hot cascade of the shower, she let out a soft moan as the water rinsed away the last suds of soap from her body. Her mind wandered down the hall to Noah, picturing his strong hands gliding over her slick skin, caressing her in all the right places, making her feel a pleasure that her own touch could never replicate. As she toweled off her damp body and skin, droplets of water still clinging to her curves, her arousal grew thinking of his muscular frame just beyond her door. She could almost sense him there—the steady rise and fall of his chest, his masculine scent mingling with hints of cologne, calling to her. Her nipples stiffened against the towel, sensitive and wanting. An aching need pooled between her thighs as fantasies took shape in her mind, vivid scenes of his hands exploring her body, his mouth hot on her skin. She took her time brushing out her wet tresses, savoring the building excitement. With each stroke of the brush, she imagined his fingers weaving through her hair, gripping tight as he claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss. She stood before the steamy mirror, her own reflection flushed with desire.

Noah tossed and turned restlessly in his bed, unable to find comfort. A pounding headache had plagued him for days ever since Rosa first took ill. Her mysterious sickness seemed to have infected him as well in some strange, supernatural way. He could feel her pain, her fever - it coursed through his veins as if it were his own. His hunter's senses, always attuned to his master and mistress, were now fixed on Rosa with alarming intensity. Her presence called to him even from a distance, resonating in his mind and body in a way he had never felt before. Not even his deep bond with Jolly compared to this. Her fevered whispers echoed in his head, morphing from soft murmurs to desperate cries to sensual moans. The sound of his name on her lips was irresistible, igniting a forbidden yearning. They both sensed this unnatural connection, this dangerous desire. As her feverish voice cried out again, Noah's eyes flew open. He could resist no longer. Throwing off his sheets, he leapt out of bed, propelled by the mysterious force compelling him toward the object of his twisted obsession.

He followed the sweet scent of jasmine down the long hallway, the fragrance wafting on the steam billowing from the open en suite bathroom door. His mouth began to water in anticipation, his manhood straining against the soft fabric of his sweatpants. The primal beast within him whined desperately for release as well. He entered Jolly's bedroom, although now it was truly their shared sanctuary, as she has resided here for several weeks now. Her essence permeated the very fabric of their sprawling apartment, infusing the furniture with her delicate aura. This dwelling was as much her home now as it was theirs. The expansive bed was a tangled mess of rumpled sheets and wrinkled covers, bearing the lingering scents of his mistress and master's passionate lovemaking from the previous night. He recalled how Jolly had returned home early and, just as Noah was leaving for the evening, had whisked Rosa off to their bedroom. That heady blend of scents still lingered in the air, intertwining with the soap and steam. Drawn like a moth to a flame, Noah slowly pushed open the bathroom door, desperate to bask in the intoxicating presence of his beloved mistress.

"Mistress," he called softly. As she stood there, bare skin still dewy from the shower, the curve of her hips and swell of her breasts were illuminated by the warm glow of the vanity lights. Her hair cascaded down her back in long, dark waves, the brush combing through the tangles with languid strokes. She watched him through the mirror, eyes half-lidded but attentive, sensing his desire even from across the room. The mundane ritual of brushing her hair became charged with intimacy. He was transfixed by the simple elegance of her movements, the brush gliding down each lock with care, her body swaying gently to an unheard rhythm. It was an everyday act made sensual by her quiet confidence, the intimacy of witnessing her private moment at the vanity. 

She set the brush down, turning around slowly to face him. Noah felt his knees tremble as he dropped to the floor unable to hold his own weight anymore. She watched, looking down at him as he admired every inch of her skin. Her porcelain complexion shined in the dim light, flawless and smooth. As she turned, her hips swayed gently, accentuating her supple curves. Noah was transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away from her exquisite form. He felt powerless under her gaze like a devotee kneeling before a goddess.

"Come here," she hooked a finger beckoning him to her and he obeyed. Crawling on all fours across the slick floor to her feet, he moved reverently towards her, never taking his eyes off her. The cold floor sent shivers up his spine but he hardly noticed, so enthralled by her beauty. Looking up at her through his lashes, the angle was perfect for him to worship every inch of her. He could devour her here and now, consume her like a man starved, but he waited, patiently, longingly for her command. She was in control and he submitted to her completely, yearning to please whatever desires she wished of him. He was hers, mind, body, and soul.

“Up here,” she said, her voice low yet commanding as she gazed up at him. 

Despite her petite stature, it was clear she held power over him, her presence radiating authority that he couldn't help but submit to. He rose to his feet in an instant, his tall frame towering over her small one. Yet her confidence remained unwavering as she tilted her chin up, meeting his eyes boldly.

 Resting her bottom on the vanity, she spread her legs, beckoning him closer. He moved in willingly, unable to resist her siren call. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling his hips flush against hers. Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his, a featherlight touch that nevertheless sent electricity skittering across his skin. Her hands slid up his chest to curl around the back of his neck, manicured nails scratching lightly as she deepened the kiss. He was utterly enraptured, consumed by the taste and feel of her. She owned him in that moment, her feminine wiles reducing him to putty in her hands.

“Mistress, I can-” he tried to speak but was silenced as her lips captured his in a sudden, passionate kiss. Her soft lips pressed against his with urgency, before she gently caught his bottom lip between her teeth in a teasing bite. 

“Can’t wait. Need you now.” Her voice was thick with desire as her hands found his waistband, yanking down his sweats with such force that his rapidly swelling cock was freed a bit too roughly. He couldn’t hold back a soft whimper as his stiffening length sprang free, slapping back heavily against his lower abdomen. Her eager hands had left him exposed and aching with need.

“And you can’t either.” She purred, her fingers wrapping around his quickly hardening shaft as she began to stroke him firmly. Her thumb swiped over the swollen, leaking tip, smearing his slick precum over the sensitive head. He groaned loudly, his body trembling with anticipation and arousal. 

His hands cupped her soft thighs as he pulled her close, her round ass barely touching the top of the vanity as she floated in midair. She still had a firm hold of him, helping to guide his throbbing manhood to her moist entrance before releasing her grasp once he was perfectly aligned. With a deep thrust, he plunged inside her fully, both of them letting out a contented sigh of pleasure. Their bodies moved as one, her knees bending higher with each powerful thrust as her hands braced against the vanity to hold her balanced. Her long, dark hair slipped from her shoulders, and Noah's eyes fell upon the faint pink scars that had once been an open, bloody wound - the wound he had inflicted on her shoulder himself. The very wound that started this passionate yet complicated affair. His rhythm slowed as he looked upon the now-healed shoulder, guilt washing over him. When she realized what had distracted him, she followed his remorseful gaze to the scars, her cheeks flushing red with remembrance.

"I've been thinking," she started to speak but didn't need to say anymore. He'd been thinking the same as well. He wanted to taste it again, he'd been wanting more. Noah leaned down to her shoulder, to the cusp between her neck and the old scars. His teeth sharpened at the thought but he hesitated, the scent of her skin intoxicating him.

She knew what he desired without the words leaving her lips. The craving was mutual between them, an insatiable thirst for the sweet elixir that flowed through her veins. When his breath caressed the nape of her neck, her pulse quickened, blood rising to the surface. Noah inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma that enveloped his senses. It was a tantalizing perfume that stirred his deepest urges, urging him to sink his fangs into the soft flesh before him. Yet still, he lingered, prolonging the exquisite torture of anticipation.

To taste her blood once more would transport him to euphoric heights, satisfying his primal hunger while forging an even deeper bond between them. But the experience would leave her weakened, vulnerable. He had to be certain she was willing to make that sacrifice again. Their eyes locked in silent communication, a confirmation that she understood the implications and accepted them fully. At last, with her consent, he gave in to his ravenous desire, piercing her delicate skin and indulging in the divine nectar within.

As the blood entered his mouth, it was like an explosion of flavor on his tongue. The metallic tang mingled with notes of cinnamon and nutmeg, creating a flavor profile as complex as a fine wine. The blood was warm, almost hot, as it slid down his throat, soothing him from the inside like a steaming cup of tea on an autumn afternoon when the chill outside bites at your fingertips.

He opened his eyes, finding them in the mirror, but they were no longer his own. As he gazed at his reflection, he was taken aback by the kaleidoscope of colors that now resided in his irises, no longer the deep chocolate brown he was accustomed to. Fiery purples and cool blues wrestled for dominance, with flecks of emerald green and slate grey dotted throughout. It was as if her essence now flowed through him, the vibrancy of her soul bursting forth in technicolor hues. He recalled that morning at breakfast, appreciating the varied shades of her eyes as he and their master fucked her senseless.

The viscous red liquid flowed lazily down her back, tracing the contours of her shoulder blade like a macabre finger painting. As gravity pulled the blood downward, it split into rivulets that diverged along either side of her spine. A gruesomely beautiful sight. 

“Noah, please,” She begs. His mouth releases her shoulder as he takes her hips with a vice grip, thrusting deep into her. As Noah thrusts into her, he feels an unfamiliar but tantalizing sensation deep in his abdomen that he has never experienced before. With each thrust, the feeling builds again, hitting his belly and spreading outward. Her head tilts back in ecstasy, eyes fluttering open to reveal irises swirling with cascading colors. As he gazes into them, he sees his own eyes reflected back, the same hypnotic colors gazing back at him. In this moment, they are profoundly connected - he can feel everything she feels, physically and emotionally. 

"Right there," she encourages breathily, their bodies moving as one. The feeling continues building until it crests, a powerful wave radiating up from below his navel, pooling in his lower back, pulsing down his legs. She clenches around him and he knows she is feeling the same earth-shattering release. Their connection transcends anything he has ever known as they reach new heights of intimacy and pleasure together.

The intimate connection is suddenly severed as her mind goes blank with pleasure. He can only feel his own body now, still thrumming with adrenaline, as her legs start to shake and go weak under the onslaught of sensation. Swiftly pulling out from her velvety depths, he sets her on her feet before spinning her lithe body around, bending her over the cold sink as she braces her hands on the smooth porcelain. He kicks her legs open, exposing her glistening pink folds, then drives his throbbing cock deep inside her once more, taking her shoulders in his strong hands for leverage as he thrusts forcefully.

He knows she is close, can feel the familiar fluttering of her inner muscles clenching tightly around him, hear the desperate moans spilling from her kiss-swollen lips, see the way her muscles tense and relax in response to his intimate touch. But it's not enough for him, not yet.

"Mistress, please," he growls, the cords in his thick neck standing out with restraint, "I need to feel it, need to feel you let go for me."

"I'm almost there," she whines, but her pleasure-clouded mind must not be functioning clearly. He needs to make himself perfectly understood. Leaning forward, he takes her throat in his large hand, the heat of his mouth searing her ear, "No, I need to FEEL you, mistress, please let me feel you come undone around me."

Her eyes open wide to shine bright swirling colors and Noah’s own vision changes like walking into a brightly lit room from a dark closet, they adjust and he can feel everything, the heat and the pressure all of them together as one. As he hones in on their shared connection he can feel her heartbeat, two beats above his own, her breath he can sense and feel it in his lungs long after her chest stops rising with one breath before taking another. It’s all new and all consuming.  He pounds into her harder, “Yes Noah, right there, don’t stop,” he feels her release again. The feeling almost causing his own. Their bodies are intertwined in ecstasy, every nerve alive with pleasure. As he thrusts deeper, harder, she gasps and moans, urging him on. Her eyes are luminous, swirling with desire, and he is lost in her gaze.

 Their connection transcends the physical, two souls merging as one. Noah holds back his own climax, wanting her to peak again and again. "You want to come to," she coos, and he growls, gripping her hips tightly as she grasps the sink. He can feel his orgasm building like a tidal wave, but still, he waits. 

"No, no. It's your turn. I want to feel you, Noah." His pace is relentless now as they move together. Finally, she gasps "That's it...that's it...fuck, such a good boy for me. Fuck. Come for me Noah let me feel you." With a guttural cry, he releases and feels her body spasm around him. 

He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him as his eyes gradually returned to their usual chocolate brown color, the supernatural glow fading away. Pulling out from her, he caught sight of the evidence of their tryst - his milky fluid sliding down her still trembling thighs. She reached unsteadily for a towel on the rack to clean herself up, but he grabbed it first, gently picking her up to sit on the bathroom vanity. He slowly spread her legs open, taking his time to tenderly wipe away the sticky mess from her soft skin.

"Master won't be happy when he sees I've bitten you," he said regretfully, his eyes lingering on the fresh bite mark on her shoulder.

Her eyes felt like they were crossing as she pictured herself in her and Jolly’s bed, the sheets a mess and crowded around her hips as she straddled Noah’s lap, riding him slowly. The intimate scene playing out in her mind made her dizzy with desire and guilt. She could almost feel Noah's strong hands gripping her waist as she rocked against him, the pleasure building steadily. Though the act existed only in her head, the vivid details flooded her senses - the warmth of their bare skin sliding together, Noah's breath hot against her neck, the way the sheets would surely be damp with sweat and tangled around their writhing bodies.

In her mind, Jolly walked in seeing them together, but rather than reacting with shock or anger, he gently pushed the hair out of the way to place a soft kiss above her wound, his hand hovering over her shoulder as the skin pulled itself together turning from angry red and bruised to pink and healed. The tenderness Jolly showed added to the dizzying swirl of emotions she felt.

She blinked her eyes a few times a vivid vision began to fade. Her gaze settled back on Noah who finished cleaning her thighs, reaching down to stroke his head. 

“No, I don’t think he will be,” she said softly.

[verytallfox]

THE SOUNDS OF NIGHTMARES CHAPTER 6: THE LONELY WAY OBSERVATIONS

The end is here, and the Counsellor begins his descent.

SUMMARY (LIVE):

The Counsellor will sink. He’s not in a good state of mind it seems.

Side Note: On another note I finished reading truly the most missed out on manga of our generation, especially in how it touches on all the injustices of our world directly and without room for misinterpretation. Eden: It’s an Endless World offered hope amidst all its despair. Warning though, it’s very fucked up. Some pretty serious content warnings apply to it and it is definitely for the faint of heart or really young people.

NOW BACK TO LITTLE NIGHTMARES!

Noone was gone longer than ever before, coming back only in the morning, appearing in the institute’s courtyard. The Counsellor takes this personally, believing the Ferryman let her go to fuck with him.

He’s looking into the Zaheer’s (Zahir’s?) Gaze. He’s gonna use Noone OH FUCK HE’S GONNA TURN HER INTO AN ASTROLABE! Yeah he’s not Otto anymore as far as I’m concerned. Thankfully, Noone has hands to throw at him.

She calls out the Counsellor on all his lies, and says that he hurt her more by hiding the truth about her tumor instead of telling her outright. He’s still trying to win her over. He says they can fight her monsters together. Also, he phrased this as her “letting him in.” It’s always been about him.

Oh, and he didn’t tell her the Candleman goes by another moniker. Noone is a smart kid and knows where he got that name from. She’s putting up resistance but he’s still pushing her. The Counsellor wants to hook her up to a machine that will “put her into a deeper sleep than ever before” and also allow him to join her. It’s noninvasive, apparently.

And now this arrogant fuck is saying there’s no going back! GOD DAMMIT COUNSELLOR! He’s forcing her to consume sweets which I’m suspecting have drugs in them.

Now we’re back to the dream sharing.

Gonna summarize this more briefly:

-Noone floats down through an endless dark

-She reaches a musty room with tons of fabrics piled up

-There’s a smell of candy apples and enchanting sad music alongside a machine whirring

-Oh and there’s mannequins without arms because of course there’s mannequins

-THERE IS A RACK PACKED WITH CLOTHES, INCLUDING THE PURPLE SUIT MAN’S CLOTHES

-I don’t recognize the other clothes but maybe they’re from other characters we’ve met

-There’s smaller outfits in a chest

-THERE IS A YELLOW RAINCOAT AND THE COUNSELLOR RECOGNIZES IT

-The Puppet is in here too, pinned down by rusty shears in his torso

-I don’t think he’s just a sentient puppet but it’s not impossible he’s a strange puppet given life (or used to be something that wasn’t a puppet)

-I lied I’m totally giving live reactions

-The Puppet is still alive and grabs Noone with his one remaining arm but she fights back, smashing a bottle into his head

-He stops moving after a bit and the music stops, so she hides in the chest

-There’s a mannequin standing in the doorframe with a dress on

-Her movements are stiff and mechanical, “her hair too shimmery, her lips too wet, and her eyes too glassy”; she’s not fully real or fully fake; she’s definitely made out of a person or outright used to be one

-She’s examining Noone’s killing of the puppet (it might not be dead just unconscious, but a number was already done to it)

-The mannequin lady opens the chest while Noone burrows herself deeper inside

-She describes the mannequin sewing clothes like how the Nowhere is sewing pieces of Noone back together, making her stronger and free

-She’ll be next soon so Noone holds the lid shut tight

Back to real-time stuff! The Counsellor is harmonizing frequencies as Noone reaches the “hypnagogic state” and he’ll be able to join her after that. The chest is opening too soon, which is freaking out the Counsellor.

Noone is now both asleep and awake at the same time. It appears she’s back in the chest while also present in the room. The Counsellor (I keep catching myself from calling him Otto lmao fuck youuu Otto) is pleased by this and wants her to wait. She’s now in a halfway place.

She’s sinking and floating, and there’s the brightest stars above or below her. This series is cosmic horror galore hehe! There’s a door in the distance, and the Counsellor is begging her not to go to the door without him. No matter which direction she turns, the door is there, approaching her. It’s “ancient, the color of twilight, made of knotted wood.” It’s alternatively liquid or both at the same time, and the frame is squirming.

Lastly, there’s no doorknob but there is A FUCKING EYE SHAPE IN THE CENTER! And I believe the door has opened.

Uh oh, the Ferryman is present. The Counsellor is asking questions.

THE FERRYMAN IS SPEAKING.

“A WORLD AS WIDE AS THE DEEP, AND AS NARROW AS THE WELL.”

“SINK, SINK INTO THESE TIDELESS WATERS.”

He’s welcoming Noone over, and now there’s stairs. Noone is enthralled with the beauty of the stars and the pulsing red moon… “no, not a moon, not stars either. They’re all eyes, too. Every size and shape you could imagine… watchful, shimmering, their light dripping into the dark mist.”

Apparently they are peering into Noone and like what they see. She asks the Ferryman to take the Counsellor with them. THE FERRYMAN HAS BEEN SPEAKING TO THE COUNSELLOR THIS WHOLE TIME. HE WANTS HIM AFTER ALL.

He is really hard to understand, but I can make out “BUT TO PLUNGE YOU MUST BE PUSHED.”

The eye in the door is changing, with a blur of faces. The door is drifting away now. The Counsellor is begging for information. The Ferryman appears to agree but the Counsellor has to figure it out for himself.

“SLEEP NOW RUTH (dunno what that means, was she called Ruth before or have I painfully misheard this guy). SLEEP INTO NOWHERE.”

Noone takes his hand.

The Counsellor begs to see his sister again.

Things are changing.

Everything is rushing away.

And then, silence. But wait, Noone is still talking. And she is concerned. The darkness is still here. That’s the secret, apparently. “It hides in this place. My body knew all along.”

And the sound of a door presumably swinging shut occurs.

Sorry for this atrociously long, half-conceived summary.

Noone has vanished and the Counsellor is genuinely broken up it seems, saying “not again.” He’s now questioning how his older sister could have left him behind.

5 minutes left y’all. HE COULD HEAR THE FERRYMAN. There’s a toll the Counsellor must pay to enter. He’s gotta sink lower and lower until he wakes up again, somewhere else.

LMAO he’s considering this a burden on himself. He believes the Ferryman has revealed another means to enter the Nowhere, and his toll will be paid in “bricks of fear.”

There’s another child here now. Ethan’s dreams have led him to the Counsellor. He’s sleepwalking. OH NO. DON’T DO IT. He’s gonna use the kid.

“I think I’ve just found it.”

“And tomorrow, together, we’ll dream, and dream, and dream, until we sleep again anew.”

He’s giving Ethan a sweet too. There’s definitely something in the candy. “Sweets for my sweet.”

And that appears to be it. Goddamn, more answers than questions, yet I’m also content I think? This could only ever end in some fucked up way, and it has.

THOUGHTS:

There’s a cycle here. I think the Counsellor has to pay the toll in children to enter the Nowhere.

The Ferryman does appear to serve the Eyes directly. I love his voice so much. Also, Noone was existing in two places at once, it seems. The dream gradually turned into reality and took her entire body out of her world. Farewell Noone, may you survive your trials in the Nowhere!

And it appears that they’ve explicitly hinted CiCi is Six after all. I think the repercussions of the Counsellor’s desperation are going to have an impact on the upcoming game. ALTERNATIVELY (just saw someone suggest this) she could be the Raincoat Girl from Very Little Nightmares. It’s possible as well that Six once had a yellow rain jacket as well. I’m torn between thinking which one she could be.

EDIT: I’m more convinced that CiCi is the first kid with the raincoat in VLN or that the raincoat has had other owners besides her and Six, given that there’s a portrait in the Maw of someone with the Lady wearing it (or something similar).

He may indeed be the person in the mirror after all! All he has to do is make dark sacrifices to these twisted things, and “a quarter will be granted.”

I’m not sure how but I think it’s implying either that the Counsellor is accelerating or improving the process to send kids to the Nowhere; the process happens more often than we realized; or they’re being directed to him so he can pay his way to the other side. Maybe it’s a combo of the three, or maybe it’s none.

I am certain however that the Counsellor is now in service to the Nowhere. Also there’s no fucking way he’s smart enough to realize he’s being played lmfao! Who knows, maybe they’ll be content to let him in without twisting him apart to see his sister. However, if Six really is his sister then one, I don’t think the Nowhere wants to let her go, and two, she can eviscerate him with her teeth or newfound powers. If it’s Raincoat Girl, uh that’s not gonna have a happy ending no matter what.

I also suspect that CiCi is still a child over there and has been all this time, assuming (gonna say this a lot lol) that she is still alive and/or that she’s Six or Raincoat Girl.

God I am so stoked for the next game.

CONCLUSION:

I love this podcast. I didn’t expect it to turn into an explicitly cosmic horror (perhaps cosmic horror lite) tale full of the consequences of being unable to move on or heal from the past. I’m not gonna blame the Counsellor for still suffering from that, that’s the most natural thing that’s happened in this whole damn story lol. Yet his obsession has cost the safety and possibly the life of at least one child, with more likely to follow.

What a dark, quirky, twisted little story! I actually kind of love the Counsellor as well as hate him! I know friends who will find him insufferable, and I think other friends will find him disturbingly charming. He’s a great character overall. And Noone just blew my expectations away. She’s an awesome character and I hope there’s some hope for her wherever she’s going.

Anyway, this has been very fun to share with all of you who’ve taken the time to read these! I’m not super ingrained into Tumblr but I’ve enjoyed sharing my reactions to this series on here.

Hope there’s some good nuggets of info to take away in this, I hope you enjoy the last episode for yourselves, and I hope y’all have a lovely day or night! Looking forward to where this all goes from here.

See you next time, whenever that may be!

-Fox

[manga-and-stuff]

Source: Eden: It's an Endless World! エデン

by Hiroki Endo

[nullsleepy]

The Strike of a Villlainess

Chapter 7: A Magical Reunion

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7(here)

The water splashed against her skin, warming her back as she laid herself down into the overfilled tub. She could feel the exhaustion in her muscles lessen as it relaxed into the water, even her “excitement” from the day was fading away. She allowed herself to lay back until only everything above her ears was safe from the liquid.

“Are you alright, my lady? Does it feel nice?” Mariam sat on the edge of the tub with a bucket in hand. She sat the bucket down and reached over to grab some rose oil, pouring it into the tub. “It smells nice, right?”

Marinette nodded, unable to respond as everything inside her relaxed. She could almost feel her worries fly away. It was as if everything was right at that moment.

Marinette sank down until the water was just below her nose, staring up at the maid who smiled at her. Marinette’s vibrant blue eyes were wide and childlike, almost innocent feeling. Mariam grabbed the bucket beside her and made a motion for Marinette to sit up.

She slowly poured the water on Marinette’s head before grabbing an elegant bottle. She poured a generous amount of the pink liquid into her hand before applying it to Marinette’s hair. She gently scrubbed it onto the girl’s scalp, letting it turn into suds and bubbles.

After letting it sit for a couple minutes, the maid washed it all out. “Would you like to stay in there for a little while, my lady?”

Marinette nodded, smiling gently at Mariam.

<———————————————————>

A small sigh escaped Marinette’s lips as she hunched over in her chair, laying her head on the wooden table below her. Beside her was a smooth leather book with indented writing. The book read “A Beginner’s Guide to All Things Magic,” with no mentioned author.

The dim light from the window covered her gentle, exhausted form like a blanket. It reminded her of the days she’d be raking over her desk for endless hours, trying to find Hawkmoth. The light from her balcony was a comfort to her during those days, filling her with hope. She missed those days. She wanted to go back to those days…

The days with Wayzz, Tikki, and the others, with everyone she loved. The days in the city she would sacrifice her life for. Her days in Paris.

Wayzz…

The little turtle who would force her to take breaks, who would remind her to eat and drink - the little one who was with her as she was transported to this world. A sob worthy sadness swept over Marinette, causing her to sit up and clutch the clothes above her heart. She wrinkled the soft fabric with the move, but she only dropped her head in response.

Just as a tear began to drip down her face, she spotted something red and black in the corner of her eyes. Perhaps… no, but it could be. Marinette raised her head again with wide, clear eyes. Please, please let it be-

It wasn’t. Tikki wasn’t there.

Instead, there was a portrait with a red curtain hiding half of it. A portrait with her face. With her.

Marinette, as if entranced, stood up and walked over to the painting. There was a painting of herself? A younger version of herself. It wasn’t just Lady Eden, it was her. She could recognize those eyes. Was she…

Lady Eden?

A whine escaped her lips as she clutched her head, a heavy pain gathering into its center. She felt a sudden rush of different emotions and memories. She could see the lonely girl in the painting in front of her, reaching out and taking her hand. The little girl smiled at her, though it was strained, and took away her pain.

The memories and emotions disappeared, but Marinette could still feel the rush of it all. She slowly opened her eyes and looked back up at the painting. If she was right, the person next to her was her father, and the person hidden behind the curtain should be-

“You. What are you doing here?”

Taglist(Open): @khneltea @shadosakushi @jeminiikrystal @fangirlingfanatic @kking13 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @xxcalypso-phoenixheartxx @iinhalemayonnaise

Notes: And that’s another chapter finished! I didn’t know if I’d be able to get it done after what happened, but I did it! Now to work on the next one! Please leave a comment!

[tranzangledlozengeggbutt]

[transangledlozengeggbutt]

[bluetoothschizophrenic]

I was just reminded that the Jedi cremate their fallen members and you know what? That’s stupid. What better way would there be than for an order of beings devoted to the protection of life to give back to the universe they serve one last time than to be laid to rest in nature? To feed, in whatever way they can, the natural world, and with it, the living force they spent their lives in service to.

During the clone wars, fine, yeah, we saw a Jedi corpse get misused at least once and it is wartime, things get a bit hectic. But during peacetime? Like Qui-Gon, yes it was much more impactful as a scene to have a cremation and in some cases it does definitely fit the character or the circumstances, like Evan Piell, Obi-Wan’s fake out, and Anakin’s funeral, but on the whole, Jedi should be laid to rest naturally, Qui-Gon especially. “He was always fascinated by this tree” Dooku said. So what better way to memorialize him than to have his remains become the bedrock for another tree?

The Jedi being on Coruscant is one of a near endless list of signs that they’ve lost touch with who they should be, but it’s also one that on a purely observational level, shouldn’t have happened. Coruscant is a planet filled with life, yes. Billions upon billions of beings, but the Jedi weren’t integrated with any of it. This isn’t the Eden that was Tython or Ossus, or even Dantooine, where the temple was humble, in pretty close proximity to the surrounding lands and farms. No, the Coruscant temple had one tree. No gardens, no plants or vines littering the halls. No Jedi working with the galactic biologists to breed species close to extinction in what could be the safest wildlife refuge in the galaxy. Not teaching younglings to value all life by surrounding them in its myriad forms. Just steel and stone.

The only way I could see the cremation concept being redeemed would be if it were mentioned that the ashes of cremated Jedi are the fertilizer used to keep the tree alive, but I doubt they’d ever do that, since that would mean Jedi would be having to die pretty frequently to keep the thing in good condition