#Hand Chain Rolling Shutter

[oreo-creampies]

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! Monster fucking/hentai logic, hints of a size kink, satoru has two cocks, no say word used, overstimulation/hints of mind break, begging, dacryphilia, reader has horns, biting, cervix/womb fucking (I’m telling you hentai logic), hate fucking but he doesn’t hate you, mean and condescending!incubus!Satoru who loves bullying you and making you cry, succubus!reader, satoru drugs you up, mirror sex, satoru is obsessed and wants to break that pussy, some objectification/heavy degradation, pulling on your horns, squirting, he calls ya mama once, some blood/light blood play

Oreo/fey; This has been rotting in the drafts for a while so take Satoru’s part

Tears trickle down your stinging cheeks. Twisting your hips partly sliding Satoru’s cocks out of your sore cunt. Your clawing at the sheets desperate for relief from his pussy bruising cocks. His speed is spiteful, pace nearly hip-shatteringly brutal.

Your body burns when he laughs. “Awwee you think I’ll let you get away?” Yanking you back onto his cocks by your bruised hips. Your jaw drops, body shutters, toes curl and eyes roll back. The thick ribbed bottom of his cock rubs your g-spot.

Yanking your head by the taunt, bejeweled chain between your twisted horns. Sinking in his thick cocks, pressing you into the bed with a hand on your back impossible to escape his hateful thrusts.

He croons, “Why would I ever let you go when your lil sloppy wet lil cock sleeve takes me so perfectly?” Sliding his finger slowly along the base of your horn sending intense tingles down your spine to your stuffed cunt.

Clenching Satoru, squeezing his fat cocks together inside you. Whining, “You’re-nnn-you’re gonnnnaaannnnn fuuuck me!” Satoru props a leg up on the bed frame, helping him fuck you deeper. Sobbing, “Breakme! Sooooo meaaannnn! I’m sorrrry!”

Smacking your ass twice, your sore cheek throbs sweetly. Satoru croons, “What’s my dumb lil’ toy sorry for?” Squeezing your hip, piercing your skin with quickly sharpening nails.

Relenting when blood trickles down your thigh. smearing your blood and squeezing your soft thigh. Dragging his nails up, leaving stinging thin scratches. Both of his cocks bullying your sore cunt is too much, too big, too deep you're struggling to think.

Bouncing on his cock, skin smacking skin, your wet cunt squelching with each punishing, quick thrust. Slurring your words together, “Anything I did! Fuucccck! Nnnnn!” Satoru twists your arms behind your back, pressing your face into the bed.

Hunching over to bite your shoulder, his sharp fangs rip through your skin. Swallowing a mouthful, licking the drops that seep out when he retracts his fangs. Your pussy quivers, clenching Satoru's cocks as an intense warmth washes over you.

Sneering, "It's cute, you think there is a reason other than cause," rutting his hips harder. "I can!" You're sobbing, thighs trembling, toe-curling mess your bruised cervix into your womb.

It shouldn't feel this wonderful, is he supposed to be that deep? One quick stroke ruins your chances of worrying. Why think about it if you're going to cum on his cocks anyway. The intense blissful high is so close your pussy is trembling.

"Be a good lil glory hole n’ take my cocks!” Squeezing your hip, yanking you off the bed by your horn’s chain. Slamming you down on his cock, you can feel his pulse throbbing in his veins.

Satoru yanks your head to the side, biting your neck, injecting you with his aphrodisiac. Needy burning heat pools in your gut spreading into your spasming, squirting pussy.

Groaning frantically bouncing you on his cock, pounding your gushing cunt. “Squirting on my cock like you wanna me to make ya a mama." Pushing on your bulging stomach. "It's getting me off seeing ya cry cause your sloppy wet pussy is getting too sensitive."

Turning you in front of a floor-length mirror. Admiring how your cunt stretches for his cocks. The soft ribbing on the bottom of his cock tugs your cunt when he glides out.

"The slightest movement makes ya feel like your cumming when I inject too much." Stroking your clit, stuffing your squelching cunt. You're cock drunk on a blissful high, your cunt spasming, clenching him tighter. Sneering, "But you should still be able to handle me right?"

Oreo’s m.list

[abxssalwrites]

unfortunately never stopped fucking thinking about tartarus. months. and he's still fucking in the back of my mind. the things this version of sylus did to me should be studied for science. it's unhealthy.

tartarus is a fucking brat. he knew the power he had over you, and yet he wanted to see what you could do. in all honestly, he underestimated you. he didn't think you had any of this in you.

"You're such a brat," You tell him, exasperated as you pin him down in the birdcage. He had gotten a small whiff of frenzy enhancer and he was now all riled up, glaring at you with a hungry, ravenous look. He scoffs, his breath a bit heavy as he didn't even bother hiding the growls in his throat. nor did he bother hiding his steadily growing bulge in those slutty leather pants.

"What are you going to do about it? Huh?" He taunts and even has the nerve to chuckle. "Are you going to... punish me?" He's excited about the idea, you can tell. Your gaze lowers to his bulge for a second before you quirk a brow up. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I dare you to."

It's only then when he realizes he shouldn't have dared you to punish him.

"Fuck...! Fuckfuckfuck- goddammit..." His head hits the back of the birdcage, his chest heaving. Abs tightening and rolling and he can't stop his legs from moving, his hips from attempting to thrust into your hand. Though when he does buck, you remove your hand for a second around his leaky, throbbing cock and slap it instead, making him moan. "Told you to stop fucking bucking," you glare at him, returning your hand to edge him further.

You haven't allowed him to cum at all. You've been keeping the time, its been nearly 2 hours of this. Your hand stroking him off, fast, then slow, then fast again until he's right at the brink of cumming, and ruining his orgasm. You might reward him with your lips of tongue brushing over his precum leaking tip if he obeys and doesn't buck, but considering he's off frenzy enhancer and barely able to contain himself, he only got your mouth once.

"L-Let... hhrgh. Let me cum," He tries to use his words, crimson eyes dilated as he watches the beyond sloppy hand job you're giving him, the need to cum making him shake like a man vulnerable. Oh, but how fucking good it feels. He can't deny it. Edged until he's a mumbling mess of a preadator.

"Why should I? You think you deserve to cum?" Removing your hand again as you watch his cock throb and bounce as you ruin yet another orgasm. Such a small amount of cum dribbles from the tip. He whines, gives you a desperate look.

His hands aren't cuffed at all. He has full range of all of his limbs, and yet he doesn't touch himself. He wants you to touch him. Wants you to jerk him off. Wants you to suck his cock and he wants you to take his cum.

"Not using your words? That pleading look won't let you cum."

"Fuck, c'mon, you bit-"

You stop him before he even finishes, delivering a hard slap to his balls. The pain, but the pleasure nearly makes him cum. He groans, gripping the iron bars of the birdcage behind him.

"I'll chain you up and leave you here if you even dare to call me that again."

He huffs, face slightly scrunching, but he knows better than to try you again. He's a mess already.

"It's like you don't even know the word please." You shake your head and return your hand to his cock, stroking him quickly, catching him off guard for a moment. You watch his eyes roll back into his head before they close.

"Pl-Please. Pleaseeee. Let me c-cum, please." Ah, there was the begging, what you were looking for.

You sink down and take him into your mouth, down your throat. His body shutters, and you feel his hand grab your head. He can't help it. He's going to cum. Needs to before he loses his fucking mind even more. He begins to thrust his hips up into your mouth, moaning curses under his breath. It doesn't take long at all for him to push your head down so he's ball deep to cum.

His cock throbs, ropes of cum shooting down your throat as those hours of being edged catch up fully. You nearly struggle to swallow it all. Some bubbles out from the side of your mouth as he rides his orgasm out, finally.

He releases your head, leaning back against the cage, panting as if he'd been running for miles. Sweat drips down his forehead and he covers his face with a hand in an attempt to calm himself down.

You pull off his cock, scoffing faintly as you look at him with lips messy with his release.

He's a brat. But fortunately, he's your brat.

[divaofmads]

Bound by Desire

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader (Y/N: Referred to as Jade.)

!!Warning!!: +18 only, MDNI, Angst, Jealousy, SMUT, Fluff, Violence, Erotic, Dirty Talk During Sex (Language), Standing Sex, Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Big Age Gap (Jade 22 / Joel 54), Fast and Secretive Sex, Rough and Dramatic Joel, Pregnancy Fantasy (Morning-after pill exists), Obsessive Joel, possesive Joel,

Word Count: 15k

A/N: I apologize for the mistakes I made in English that is not my native language and I am trying to improve my writing skills.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

The world was now unrecognizable. The streets, once filled with the echoes of laughter, had turned into abandoned nightmares. Cracked asphalt was overgrown with wild weeds, and the roads were littered with the rubble of collapsed buildings. Rusted cars lay piled up along the curbs, nothing more than heaps of metal. Some had shattered windows, and bloodstains still marked their steering wheels. The entire scene was a haunting reminder of how swift and merciless the apocalypse had been.

The sky was covered with thick gray clouds. The wind carried the scent of burnt wood and rotting flesh, howling through the empty streets. The silence was so deep it sent shivers down one’s spine; only the distant echo of an infected’s scream broke the eerie stillness. The world no longer belonged to humans.

Joel Miller walked a few steps behind Ellie in silence. Ellie had her hands tucked into her pockets and occasionally kicked at the stones on the ground. As always, Joel remained on high alert. His eyes scanned the surroundings carefully, and his ears stayed sharp for the faintest sound. Because Joel had one rule: Always be prepared.

Ellie turned around and spoke to Joel. “Hey, Joel, imagine eating pizza on one of these streets. I bet this town would’ve been boring even back then.”

Joel frowned at Ellie’s absurd remark. “Focus, Ellie. Useless chatter distracts us.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Mister ‘Serious Man.’ But admit it, these streets are so dull they could bore the dead.”

Ignoring Ellie’s attempts at humor, Joel kept walking.

The town must have once been full of life. Storefronts lined the streets, their rusty shutters now tightly closed. Some shop signs had fallen, their lettering faded with time. Around the corner, an old playground stood. The swings’ chains were rusted, and the ground, once covered in sand, had turned into a muddy mess.

Joel and Ellie reached a three-story building in the middle of town. The front facade was heavily damaged, its windows shattered. But the door was still intact. After scanning the surroundings carefully, Joel decided to go inside. He opened the door quietly and gestured toward Ellie. “Stay quiet.”

Ellie covered her mouth with one hand and mimicked Joel in silence.

The inside of the building was just as abandoned and decayed as the town outside. Wooden floorboards were rotting in places but still held firm. Torn posters and peeling paint covered the walls. In one corner, an overturned table and scattered chairs suggested that this place had once been a hotel.

Joel began checking the building. He opened each door, scanning the rooms. The place was silent, but that didn’t always mean it was safe. On the first floor, he found an old kitchen. Searching the cabinets, he managed to find a few canned goods.

Ellie’s eyes lit up at the sight of the cans. “Ooo! Chicken soup? Joel, this is a feast!”

Joel smirked slightly at Ellie’s excitement. “A feast, huh? We’ll see how cheerful you are when one of those infected screams outside.”

Ellie scoffed. “Ah, always cheerful Joel. We really need to find you a joke book.”

When they reached the third floor, Joel’s attention was drawn to an old bedroom. It was at the very back of the building, with only a small window—making them harder to spot from the outside. He propped a chair against the door to secure it.

Ellie tested an old bed in the room, bouncing on it slightly. “Not the most comfortable, but at least we’re not sleeping on the floor.”

Joel nodded. “It’ll do for the night. Get some rest—we need to move at first light.”

Ellie was used to Joel’s authoritative tone, but she couldn’t resist a final jab. “Sure thing, Mister ‘Never Smiles.’ Just don’t wake me up with your grumpiness.”

Joel rolled his eyes at her remark and sat down in the corner, pulling out his gun to clean it. But his gaze kept drifting toward Ellie.

After losing his own daughter, he couldn’t remember the last time he had cared about someone this much. He knew Ellie was a spark of hope in this broken world, and keeping her safe was his top priority.

Outside, trash rustled slightly in the wind. The inside of the building was cold, but it was safe enough for now. Wrapped in a blanket, Ellie slowly drifted into sleep while Joel remained on watch. His eyes occasionally wandered into the distance, lost in memories of the past.

Joel was keeping watch, lost in deep thought, when a sudden scream from outside startled him. His grip on his gun tightened instinctively. Ellie peeked out from under her blanket and whispered, "Joel? What was that?"

Joel pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. "Don't move. Stay here."

The silence above became even more unsettling as they heard the distant screams and footsteps approaching the building. Joel silently stood up and checked his weapon. Ellie's eyes widened with fear.

"Are you leaving? You're going to leave me here?"

"I need to see what's going on. I promise I'll be back. Lock the door, and if someone comes, don't make a sound."

Ellie bit her lip and nodded. Joel gripped his rifle tightly and slipped out of the room, moving cautiously down the hallway.

As he descended the stairs, he heard a muffled sound. Someone was crying.

Peering around the corner, he spotted a group of men trapping a woman against a wall. She was wearing a tattered, bloodstained sweater, her back pressed against the cold concrete. Her hands were raised defensively, like a wild animal forced into a corner. Her face glistened with sweat and fear.

"Stay away from me!" the woman shouted. "I'm warning you! If you come any closer..." Her voice trembled, but she tried to mask her fear with anger.

The men laughed cruelly. The one in front, a filthy man with broken teeth and a leather jacket, grinned like a predator.

"Oh, look at this little bird," he sneered. "Scared, aren't you? But fear just makes the game more fun, doesn't it, boys?"

The group responded with laughter.

The woman grabbed a rusty metal pipe nearby and swung it at the nearest man. He dodged, but the pipe struck his shoulder, making him curse in pain.

"You little bitch!" he spat.

"I told you!" she screamed. "Stay back! If you come any closer, I will kill you!"

Joel watched from the shadows, controlling his breathing, waiting for the right moment to act. But he knew the woman wouldn’t last long. The men were closing in, breaking her defenses bit by bit.

"Fighting back only makes things harder, sweetheart," another man taunted. "Now drop that pipe and be a good girl."

Tears welled in the woman’s eyes, but she held onto the pipe with all her strength.

Joel couldn't wait any longer. He took a deep breath and stepped out from the darkness, swiftly putting a silenced bullet through the head of one of the men.

As the body collapsed, the others spun around in shock. Joel wasted no time, charging at the second man and slamming the butt of his rifle into his face, knocking him to the ground. Then he turned to the woman. "Trust me. Now run!"

She hesitated for only a second before obeying, recognizing the determination in his eyes.

Joel now faced the remaining three men. They scrambled to pull their weapons. He ducked behind a nearby shelf as gunfire erupted, echoing through the building.

Upstairs, Ellie flinched at the sound of the shots, clutching her blanket tightly. She tried to stay quiet, just as Joel had told her, but she was trembling with fear.

Meanwhile, the woman hid in a dark corner as instructed, but one of the men spotted her. He lunged toward her. In desperation, she grabbed a brick from the floor and smashed it into his face before sprinting toward Joel.

Joel, momentarily surprised, quickly adjusted. "This way! Stay quiet!"

As they ran, she accidentally kicked a piece of metal, sending it clattering across the floor. The noise alerted one of the men, who turned to fire. Joel reacted instantly, taking him down with a single shot.

The last man charged at Joel. The woman seized the metal pipe again and swung hard, knocking the attacker to the ground.

Joel stood still for a moment, listening. When he was sure there were no more threats, he lowered his gun and turned to look at her.

She was panting, her face covered in sweat and dust. Joel, ever composed, calmly wiped his weapon.

Touching a wound on her shoulder, the woman finally spoke. "I don’t know who you are… but thank you."

"As long as you don’t try to kill me, we’re fine."

The woman raised an eyebrow at Joel’s harsh tone. "You can drop the tough guy act. You just saved my life."

Joel’s expression remained unreadable. "Saving your life doesn’t mean I trust you. What’s your name?"

After being hunted by raiders for days, the brief moment of relief made her legs give in, and she collapsed onto her knees. Her voice trembled as she answered, "Jade."

Joel watched as Jade sank to the ground, exhausted. Despite his usual cold demeanor, something inside him shifted. He crouched down, unzipped her backpack, and rummaged through it before pulling out a water bottle. As he handed it to her, his voice remained firm, almost interrogative. "Who were they? Why were they after you?"

Jade gulped down the water in one go, taking a few seconds to steady her breathing before looking at Joel. Fear still lingered in her eyes, but she was slowly regaining control. "I don’t know who they are. They’ve been following me for a while. They cornered me, set a trap. This… this kind of thing is normal in this world now."

Joel didn’t trust anyone in this new world. He needed to be sure she was telling the truth. "There has to be a reason. Either you did something to them, or you have something they want."

Jade scoffed and threw up her hands. "Oh, right, Joel. Because I’m probably carrying a bag full of gold, huh?… I was just trying to survive."

Joel narrowed his eyes, thinking. But before he could say anything, a small but firm voice interrupted from behind.

"Why are you being so hard on her?"

Joel turned quickly at the sound of Ellie’s voice. The young girl stood with her hands on her hips, glancing between him and Jade.

Jade couldn’t help but smile at the innocent but defiant stance Ellie took.

Joel sighed, "I told you to stay upstairs."

Ellie smirked, "And, like always, I didn’t listen."

As she hurried down the stairs, Joel let out a frustrated sigh. Jade watched them, shaking her head in mild amusement at their dynamic.

Ellie plopped down next to Jade and leaned in. "Hey, uh… what was your name again?"

"Jade," she said softly.

With her usual teasing tone, Ellie grinned. "I’m Ellie. Don’t you think Joel’s a little too grumpy?"

Jade smirked and gave Ellie a knowing wink. "I’d say he’s more than just grumpy. But thanks. Honestly, it’s kinda entertaining."

Ellie chuckled. "Oh, I bet. But seriously, he acts all tough, but deep down, he’s got a soft side."

Joel, overhearing, turned and frowned at her. "No one gave you permission to talk about me, Ellie."

Ellie shrugged. "Relax, big bad wolf. I’m just telling the truth."

Ignoring him, Ellie scooted closer to Jade, clearly curious. "So, you’ve been out here alone this whole time? How’d you manage that?"

Jade couldn't resist Ellie’s sincere and curious demeanor and answered, “I guess you could call it luck. Or maybe I just run really fast. But I’ve never seen someone like you around.”

“I’m a special kind,” Ellie replied. “Like… think of me as a superhero.”

Jade chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, I noticed. You do seem pretty special.”

Ellie suddenly became serious and turned to Joel. “We’re not leaving her here, right?”

Joel shook his head and replied firmly, “Ellie, you can’t trust anyone in this world. This is her choice.”

“No, Joel. It’s not her choice. We can’t abandon her.”

Jade was momentarily stunned by Ellie’s words and glanced at Joel. “Listen, it’s really fine. I won’t cause any trouble for you. I can take care of myself.”

Joel scoffed at her words. “Take care of yourself? A group of guys almost tore you apart a few minutes ago.”

Ellie was annoyed by Joel’s harsh tone. “Joel, enough! We all need each other to survive in this world. We’re not leaving Jade behind.”

Joel couldn’t respond to Ellie’s determination right away. He just sighed and shook his head. “Fine. But only for tonight. At first light, we’re leaving. And she’s going her own way.”

Ellie, feeling victorious, turned to Jade and winked. Jade, still hesitant but grateful, looked at Joel. “Thank you. Really.”

Joel said nothing as he began reloading his rifle. Jade realized that this man wasn’t one to show emotions, but she could see how much he cared about Ellie. That, at least, gave her a small reason to trust him.

As Joel slung his rifle over his shoulder and silently climbed the stairs, he kept an eye on the two girls following him. Ellie, still thrilled by their conversation, stuck close to Jade, eager to learn everything about her. Meanwhile, Joel felt the heavy weight of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders. Now, that weight included Jade.

The upper floor was darker and dimly lit. It was clear that this place had once been a hotel, with time leaving its marks on the walls and furniture. The peeling wooden panels, the half-torn carpet on the floor, and an overturned chair in the corner were all silent witnesses to abandonment.

Joel pointed to a larger room at the end of the hallway and turned to Ellie and Jade. “You two stay here. I’ll keep watch in the other room.”

Ellie frowned. “Seriously? Wouldn’t it be safer if we all stayed together?”

Joel’s response was firm. “Ellie. No more arguing.

Ellie rolled her eyes but finally gave up. Jade gave Joel a grateful look and nodded before following Ellie into the room.

Ellie fluffed up an old mattress in the corner of the room and then turned to Jade. The bed was old and filled with creaky springs, but in this world, it was a luxury. Jade sat down and gazed out the window, while Ellie plopped down beside her, her curiosity evident. “Alright, tell me. Who are you? How have you survived? And why do you seem so… I don’t know, positive?”

Jade smiled and shook her head. “I wouldn’t say I’m positive. I just… accepted that I don’t have another choice.”

Ellie furrowed her brows, unsatisfied with the answer. “But from what I’ve seen, you’re pretty tough. I mean… whatever happened to you, it made you stronger. So, what was it? Your family?”

Jade’s smile faded instantly. She turned toward Ellie, but her eyes seemed to be looking far away. “My family… I saw the cruel side of this world early on. My dad died trying to protect us. My mom… she couldn’t take it. I lost everything before I was truly alone.”

Ellie’s eyes welled up with tears, but she quickly pulled herself together. “I’ve lost people too. Everyone has, right? But you… how do you keep going?”

Jade gave a small smile and shrugged. “Maybe surviving isn’t just about being strong. Maybe it’s about learning to find something beautiful.”

Meanwhile, in the next room, Joel sat on a chair by the window, his rifle resting on his lap. The moonlight was the only thing illuminating the room. He tried not to listen to the girls’ conversation, but the thin walls made it impossible.

Hearing Jade’s soft yet sorrowful voice, Joel felt something stir inside him. Her words brought back memories of his own losses. Sarah… those days. The anger and regret that constantly simmered inside him threatened to resurface.

Jade’s words echoed in his mind: "Maybe surviving isn’t just about being strong. Maybe it’s about learning to find something beautiful."

Joel found himself caught in that thought. What was he still trying to find in life? What was that beautiful thing for him, if not Ellie?

Ellie suddenly changed the topic and turned to Jade with a sly grin. “By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice the way you look at Joel.”

Jade’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

Ellie shrugged, raising her eyebrows. “Living in the same space with him, I know Joel looks like a grumpy old rock. But… I think there’s something likable about him.”

Jade looked uncomfortable. “Ellie, you’re really imagining things. Joel is just…”

Ellie smirked. “Just what? Tough? Grumpy? Yeah, sure. But deep down, he’s got a heart. And I think you’ve noticed.”

At that moment, Joel, having heard enough, stood up and walked toward the door. He swung it open with determination, making both girls turn to him.

“Are you two going to shut up and sleep, or am I going to have to listen to this nonsense all night?”

Ellie couldn’t help but laugh at Joel’s grumpy reaction. Jade, embarrassed, avoided his gaze. “Oh, come on, Joel. Don’t be mad at us. We’re just having fun.”

Joel shot them a sarcastic look. “You’re giving me a headache. Now sleep.”

He slammed the door behind him, turning away, but a small, fleeting smile appeared on his lips. He quickly composed himself, shoving the feeling down as usual.

Ellie and Jade’s laughter still echoed in the room.

The morning had begun with a cold, gray sky, as if the clouds had wrapped the world in a thick blanket. The wind slipped through the broken windows of the abandoned hotel room, strong enough to disturb the sleep of those inside. As always, Joel was the first to wake up. His rifle was still by his side, his shoulders slumped after a sleepless night, his eyes tired but alert. He stood up and looked out the window. The streets were still quiet, but silence never meant safety.

Ellie and Jade were still asleep in the other corner of the room. Ellie was curled up in a blanket, snoring softly. Jade’s face was peaceful, yet the slight crease between her brows hinted at a night filled with deep thoughts. Joel averted his gaze from them and moved quietly. But just as he did, Ellie mumbled sleepily, “Joel… where’s breakfast?”

Joel shrugged and answered coolly, “Breakfast? Maybe you could ask one of the infected wandering outside.”

Ellie rubbed her eyes and sat up as Jade began to stir awake as well.

Jade silently got out of bed and started gathering her bag. Ellie, noticing her movements, asked curiously, “Hey, where are you going?”

Jade gave her a small smile. “Like I promised, I’m going my own way. You two are already carrying enough.”

Ellie’s expression changed immediately. Her eyes widened, her brows furrowed. “No way! I’m not leaving you like this. Joel, say something!”

Joel let out a deep breath. He seemed caught between Ellie’s insistence and Jade’s determination. He turned to Ellie. “Ellie, she’s made her decision. She doesn’t want to be a burden.”

Jade slightly lowered her head at his words. She thought he didn’t like her, unlike herself. “Thank you, Joel. For understanding.”

But Ellie wasn’t having it. She took a step forward, grabbed Jade’s bag, and slammed it onto the floor. “No, listen to me. Leaving alone would be stupid! And I care about you. You’re a good person, Jade. We can stay together.”

Joel was about to respond harshly, but Jade spoke first. “Ellie, you know how this world works. I can make it on my own. But… I have another plan.”

Ellie and Joel both turned to her with curiosity. There was a brief moment of softness in Joel’s eyes. “What plan?”

Jade pulled out an old map and spread it out on the bed. A small area was marked. “This place is called Cedar Heaven. It used to be a farming town, but now, it’s a community working to rebuild. They grow their own food, they provide education… and they have strong defenses against the infected.”

Ellie’s face lit up with hope. “Are you serious? This place is real?”

Jade nodded slightly. “I’ve met a few people who made it there. They’re survivors who came together. I want to join them. But the road is dangerous.”

Joel took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking in a calm but firm voice. “You can’t go alone. It’s too dangerous. The infected aren’t the only problem—there are hunter groups out there.”

Jade met his gaze. If he didn’t want her around, why was he offering now? “This is my choice.”

Joel looked at the map again. Cedar Heaven. The name sounded almost too good to be true, like a distant reflection of survival and hope. He placed the map back on the table, his voice breaking the silence with a tone of certainty. “Let’s make a deal.”

Jade was caught off guard by how sudden and direct he was. She raised her brows. “A deal?”

Joel nodded, his expression serious. “Take us to Cedar Haven. We need a safe place. And while we get there, you won’t be alone. We’ll go with you.”

Jade studied him carefully, weighing his words. Surprise, hesitation, and a hint of doubt flickered in her eyes. “You? But… I don’t have any real connection to this community. It’s just a name on a map. You don’t even know what’s waiting for you there.”

Joel’s voice was steady. “We don’t, but right now, it’s the best shot we’ve got. And I’d like to think you’re smart enough not to try going there alone.

Ellie jumped in, excitement in her voice. “This is a great idea! Jade, you don’t want to be alone, and we need a safe place. Joel’s brain actually works sometimes.”

Joel shot her a glare. “Ellie, be serious.”

Jade considered their offer. With Joel and Ellie, she’d be safer. But there was still one thing she wasn’t sure about. “And if I take you there… what if they don’t accept me? What if my presence causes problems?”

Joel’s voice didn’t waver. “Then we move on. But at least we’ll have tried. We won’t leave you behind. And in the meantime, we help each other.”

Jade’s hesitation lessened a little as Ellie gave her a warm look. “Come on, Jade. We make a great team. Besides, no one can be as grumpy and tough as Joel, so they’ll probably find you less of a problem.”

Joel rolled his eyes and chose not to respond to Ellie’s sarcastic remark. Jade was intrigued by Ellie’s energetic and charming attitude. She smiled slightly and replied, “Alright… I accept.”

Joel’s expression remained serious, but deep inside, he felt a sense of relief. Yet, he also knew he couldn’t distance himself from Jade. Maybe this journey was just an excuse for him, or perhaps, deep down, he felt that he needed to have Jade by his side. Jade, on the other hand, seemed to understand the complex emotions hidden behind Joel’s tough exterior. She silently nodded and moved to her corner to get ready.

Joel said, “Good. Let’s get packed. We don’t have much time.”

Ellie, filled with excitement, hugged Jade.

Ellie: “You’re awesome! Now you won’t be alone, and we’ll be safer. It’s a win-win situation!”

Jade was surprised by the warm welcome but accepted it with appreciation. She looked at Ellie with a faint smile. “I hope it’s as easy as you think.”

Ellie: “It will be! As long as Joel is here, we’re safe. He’s basically a human Terminator.”

Joel let out a deep sigh at Ellie’s comment.

Joel: “Ellie, stop chattering and get your bag ready. We need to leave now.”

But Joel knew that keeping Jade with them wasn’t just about survival. Even though he couldn’t name the feelings growing inside him, having Jade around gave him an unexpected sense of comfort.

The three of them started walking toward the outskirts of town. Abandoned cars, fallen power lines, and scattered metal debris reminded them once again of the hardships ahead. The scent of burnt wood and rust carried by the wind made the desolation of the place even more apparent.

Joel led the way, his rifle slung over his shoulder, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. His steps were quiet but determined. Ellie walked beside Jade, occasionally glancing at her as if she wanted to say something, but Joel’s silence seemed to have affected everyone. Jade, on the other hand, appeared fully focused on their task. Her eyes stayed on the road and the surroundings, inspecting the vehicles for anything useful.

Ellie was the first to break the silence. She turned to Jade with a slight smile. “Hey, Jade. Do you know anything about cars? I mean, do you know how to start one?”

Jade looked at Ellie, thinking for a moment before replying with a confident expression. “Yeah, I know a little. My dad used to be a mechanic. I used to help him sometimes when I was a kid. If the car is in working condition, it’s not that hard to get it running.”

Ellie’s face lit up. “Wow, that’s so cool! Joel usually gets the cars running, but… how should I put this? Sometimes, he relies on luck. One time, we actually set a car on fire while trying to—”

Joel suddenly stopped and turned to Ellie with a stern look. “Ellie. Be quiet.”

Ellie ignored Joel’s reaction, winked at Jade, and shrugged with a grin. Jade gave a small smile at Ellie’s playful attitude, but Joel’s serious demeanor made her keep her guard up.

A few minutes later, Joel suddenly raised his hand, signaling them to stop. The three of them immediately fell silent. Joel carefully observed a corner ahead. They were standing next to an abandoned parking lot filled with deserted cars, but some of them seemed to be moving. A faint growling sound echoed off the walls of the buildings.

Joel quickly turned back and spoke in a hushed voice.

Joel. “A group of infected. I don't know their exact numbers, but at least four or five. Stay quiet. Follow my lead.”

Ellie furrowed her brows and asked in a low voice, “What are we gonna do?”

Joel looked at Ellie first, then at Jade. “Jade, take Ellie and hide between the cars. I’ll go ahead and distract them. If things go south, take the back road and run.”

Jade hesitated, locking eyes with Joel. “What about you? Can you handle them all on your own?”

Joel answered with a cold expression. “This isn’t my first time. Just do as I say.”

A wave of unease and discomfort passed through Jade, but she didn’t argue with Joel’s determination. Grabbing Ellie by the arm, she pulled her towards the space between the cars.

Joel moved toward the parking lot with slow, steady steps. He readied his rifle and leaned against a car, scanning the area. The moving figures gradually became clearer. A group of infected had gathered around an old truck, growling and communicating with each other in guttural sounds. Joel took a deep breath and threw a rock at a car window, creating a sharp noise.

The infected immediately turned toward the sound. They hesitated at first but then slowly started moving in Joel’s direction. He held his breath, gripping his rifle tightly, aiming at the lead infected.

Meanwhile, Ellie and Jade crouched behind a car. Ellie tried to steady her breathing as she turned to Jade and whispered, “Can Joel really do this? Is he gonna fight them all alone?”

Jade frowned, watching Joel. Something stirred inside her. She admired his strength and experience, but the thought of leaving him to face this alone unsettled her.

She spoke in a protective tone, “Stay here. If anything goes wrong, signal me.”

Ignoring Joel’s orders, Jade quietly stepped out. Moving cautiously, she made her way toward him.

Joel had just taken down one of the infected when he spotted her and hissed, “What the hell are you doing? I told you to stay hidden!”

Jade shot back, “I’m helping you. Don’t be so damn arrogant!”

Joel glared at her for a moment, but when another infected lunged at him, he had to refocus. The two of them instinctively moved back to back, fighting together.

Joel was both surprised and impressed by Jade’s stance and courage. As he tried to suppress his thoughts, he found himself acknowledging that she was someone he could truly rely on. But with that trust came a storm of emotions he wasn’t ready to face.

Joel barked, “Jade, don’t turn your back! We take them down before they get close!”

Jade snapped, “Don’t give me orders, Miller! I’ve got my own plan!”

Joel’s eyes flicked to Jade’s stance. She moved with a calculated precision, not a trace of panic or fear. When an infected lunged at her throat, she sidestepped swiftly, driving her knife into its skull. Blood splattered over her hands, but she didn’t hesitate before shifting to her next target.

Joel stole a quick glance at Ellie. Her eyes were wide with fear, her hands trembling. His protective instincts overrode everything else.

Joel called out, “Ellie, stay there! Do not move!”

But just as he turned back, he was stunned. Jade was holding her own in a brutal fight. An infected had tried to tackle her, but she had thrown it off and finished it with a swift stab.

Joel muttered under his breath, half in admiration, “Damn… this woman’s a one-woman army…”

Jade noticed his stare but said nothing. Instead, she spotted an infected creeping toward Ellie.

Jade shouted, “Ellie, get down! Now!”

Ellie immediately dropped to the ground. Jade kicked over a nearby trash bin, crushing the infected beneath it, before swiftly finishing it off with her knife.

Joel watched as Jade’s protective nature became more evident than ever. She wasn’t just capable—she was willing to put herself on the line for Ellie.

Joel shot down a few more infected before yelling, “Jade, more are coming! We need to get out of here!”

Jade quickly scanned the area. Her eyes landed on an abandoned SUV. It looked old, but the door was slightly open, and it might still run.

Jade called out, “Miller, cover me! I’m gonna start that car!”

Joel frowned. “Without a key? How?”

Jade smirked. “Just watch me.”

She sprinted to the SUV, yanked the door open, and scanned the dashboard. No keys. She reached under the seat and found an old screwdriver. Memories of her father’s mechanic days rushed into her mind. She ripped off the cover under the steering wheel, exposing the wires.

Ellie, watching in shock, asked, “What are you doing?”

Jade, "I'm borrowing the car for a while."

Jade found the ignition wires and stripped them. Then, she rubbed them together, creating sparks. After a few attempts, the engine roared to life. But the growls of the infected grew closer.

As Joel fired his shotgun at the creatures, Jade started the engine and moved the vehicle. She turned it into a weapon, driving straight into the infected. Blood splattered onto the windows, revealing the impact’s brutality.

Joel took down the last few infected and sprinted toward the car. He jumped inside, breathless. Ellie, sitting in the back seat, stared at Jade in awe. "You're a mechanic, huh? You literally brought this thing back to life with magic!"

Jade, still breathless and exhilarated, replied, "You should thank my dad. He taught me everything."

Joel’s tone was harsh. "Don’t do that again. You don’t have to risk yourself just to protect Ellie."

Jade smirked. "Oh, were you worried? I do better when I take action on my own."

Joel didn’t respond. This was the moment he realized how strong Jade was—how she could be a real protector for Ellie. But deep inside, a strange spark of admiration for Jade had begun to ignite.

Jade gripped the steering wheel tightly, not even sparing a second to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Her eyes flickered between the cracked asphalt ahead and the growing horde of infected.

She thought to herself, Stay calm, Jade. This is easier than it looks. Just hit the gas and go. No problem, right?

Ellie leaned forward from the back seat, breathing heavily, her small hands clutching the edge of the seat. "Jade, come on! If we wait any longer, they’re gonna break through these windows!"

Joel shouted, "Drive! Now!"

Jade slammed her foot on the gas, but the vehicle lurched forward as it hit a toppled trash container. Her eyes locked onto the blood splattered across the windshield and the infected clinging to the glass. The creature clawed at the surface, and a deep terror stabbed through her chest.

Joel barked, "Don’t look at it! Focus on the road!"

Jade shook herself out of it. She floored the gas pedal, and the car lunged forward. The creature clinging to the windshield slammed into a metal pole and tumbled to the ground. But that didn’t stop the swarm of infected coming their way.

Joel’s voice filled the car. "Turn left! There’s a clearer path!"

Jade jerked the wheel, sending the car splashing through a massive puddle, mud spraying from the tires. Her hands were slick with sweat, and she felt like she was losing control of the steering. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an infected charging toward them—and then slamming into the side of the car like a sledgehammer.

Ellie screamed, "Joel! They're getting in!"

Joel remained calm, reloading his shotgun as he leaned back in the seat. His voice was steady. "Speed up. I’ve got you."

Something in those words steadied Jade. Her eyes flashed with determination.

Without hesitation, she swerved and aimed the car straight at a group of infected standing in the road. Metal met flesh. The windshield was painted red. Jade’s hands gripped the wheel even tighter as Ellie’s terrified voice rang out.

Ellie whimpered, "So much blood… Can’t we slow down a little?"

Jade glanced at the rearview mirror, watching the infected disappear behind them.

"No. We can’t."

Joel frowned as he realized what Jade was doing. She wasn’t just using the vehicle as transportation—she was turning it into a weapon. She plowed through the infected, transforming the car into a machine of steel and blood.

When Jade reached an intersection, she slammed on the brakes, and the car jolted to a sudden stop. Then, she quickly spun the wheel and took another route. Joel glanced at her profile, noticing the determination burning in her eyes.

Finally, they had escaped the infected. The vehicle rolled into an abandoned parking lot and came to a halt. When Jade turned off the engine, her hands were shaking. She exhaled deeply and rested her head against the steering wheel. In the backseat, Ellie was still trying to steady her breathing.

Joel lowered his rifle and looked at Jade. He tried to maintain a stern and cold expression, but there was gratitude in his eyes.

"You risked your life to protect Ellie," he said. "Good job."

Jade lifted her head, smirking despite her exhaustion. "Save the praise, Miller. I was just doing my job."

A faint smile ghosted over Joel’s face. In that moment, the tension between them seemed to shift into an unspoken understanding.

Finally, Joel spoke again, his voice a mix of sarcasm and something more thoughtful. "I hate to admit it, but… watching you fight the infected was surprising. You’re pretty good. So why do you act like a scared little girl when it comes to hunters?"

Jade turned to him, locking eyes. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, a small smile forming on her lips—though there was something much deeper hidden beneath it. "Because the infected are predictable. They’re just hungry. They act on instinct. But people… people are worse. They choose to be cruel."

Joel remained silent for a moment. Her words stirred something inside him. He now understood why she fought so fiercely, why her eyes burned with such determination. But he said nothing more.

Ellie, however, couldn’t stand the silence any longer. "But you have to admit, you two made a hell of a team! I mean, Joel, you were like a damn action hero with that rifle. And Jade, you turned that car into a freaking infected-crushing machine! You guys were awesome."

Jade let out a small chuckle at Ellie’s enthusiasm. "It’s easy to be a team when you’re in the middle of chaos."

Ellie noticed the hint of sarcasm in Jade’s voice but ignored it. Instead, she turned to Joel, pushing further. "Come on, Joel, admit it. Jade was impressive! Did you see the way she handled the wheel? It was like something straight out of a movie!"

Joel furrowed his brows, immediately catching onto Ellie’s teasing. His voice hardened slightly. "Ellie, enough. You talk too much."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Oh sure, because talking is what’s gonna get us killed, right?"

Joel decided to end the conversation there. He checked his rifle and then turned to Jade, his voice firm. "Let’s go. We can’t stay here any longer."

Jade gave a silent nod, loosening her grip on the steering wheel before pressing the gas. The car moved forward once more. The road ahead was littered with cracked asphalt, collapsed buildings, and abandoned vehicles.

A heavy silence filled the car, broken only by the low rumble of the engine and the distant howl of the wind.

Joel rested his right hand on the door handle, his eyes fixed on the window outside. But his mind was elsewhere—on Jade. The way she fought, her determination, and even the way she protected Ellie lingered in his thoughts. Deep inside, he felt a strange stirring—something he hadn't felt in a long time. I need to stop feeling this way, he thought.

Ellie couldn’t take the silence any longer and leaned forward from the backseat. “Hey, Jade. Do you know anything about music?”

Jade couldn’t ignore Ellie’s energy and smiled slightly. “Yeah, my dad used to sing while working in the repair shop. I learned a few songs from him.”

Ellie started humming a tune, then raised her voice a little.

"Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone… It’s not warm when she’s away…"

Jade hesitated for a moment before joining in. Their voices, even in the shadow of war, brought a fleeting moment of peace.

As she sang, Jade stole a glance at Joel. He was still silent, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. But the hard expression on his face seemed to soften just a little. She had to admit it to herself—she was drawn to Joel Miller. There was something beneath that tough exterior—the way he loved Ellie, his unwavering determination in battle, and the way he tried to hide his interest in her. It only made her more curious.

When the song ended, Ellie turned to Joel with a teasing grin. “Hey, Joel, have you ever sung a song? Have you ever had fun? Or have you just been scowling since the day you were born?”

A faint smile flickered on Joel’s lips but disappeared just as quickly.

“You two like to talk. I like to listen.”

Jade smirked at his response. She knew she had to push her complicated feelings aside for now and focus on the road. But being with Joel and Ellie gave her a sense of belonging she hadn’t felt in a long time.

As they continued their journey through the ruins of the world, each lost in their own thoughts, one thing was certain—despite everything, a bond was forming between them.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, like the faded memories of an abandoned town. Jade was at the wheel, her eyes scanning the road for obstacles. Ellie lounged in the backseat, rummaging through her bag while secretly forming a plan in her mind. Joel sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed over his chest, watching the outside world with a weighty seriousness—as if he carried the whole world on his shoulders.

Ellie glanced at Jade and Joel. There was something in the silence between them. Tension? Maybe. Or was it an unspoken pull between them? Ellie grinned to herself. They might need a little push.

Suddenly, Ellie leaned forward and tapped Jade on the shoulder. “Hey, we need to stop!” she said with sudden urgency.

Jade glanced at her through the rearview mirror, her brows knitting together. “Why?” she asked, though she was already easing off the gas.

Ellie clutched her stomach dramatically. “Why do you think? My stomach hurts. Maybe it was that old can of food, or…” She trailed off and turned to Joel with a smirk. “Maybe it’s because you’re so damn gloomy, Joel.”

Joel narrowed his eyes, his mouth opening as if to respond, but then he caught Ellie’s teasing grin and sighed instead. Jade chuckled as she pulled the car over.

As Ellie hopped out, she called back over her shoulder, “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone, okay?” She winked at Joel, who just raised his brows and turned away.

Silence settled over the car. Jade rested her elbows on the steering wheel, hands clasped together. Joel shifted slightly in his seat, his gaze still fixed outside. Jade considered breaking the silence but hesitated at Joel’s usual stern expression.

Joel finally turned to her. “Ellie’s playing a game,” he said flatly. “You realize that, right? She can feel the tension and is trying to leave us alone on purpose.”

Jade chuckled. “Are you serious?” she asked, but when she saw his unchanged expression, she stifled a laugh.

Joel furrowed his brows. “She’s set her sights on you, you know. She’s trying to make you part of the family. But I…” He stopped, looking at her. Seeing the amusement in her eyes, he frowned.

“Why don’t you take me seriously?” he asked, his tone slightly sharper.

Jade shrugged. “Because Ellie’s right. You are gloomy.”

Joel looked like he was about to get even more annoyed, but then his eyes lingered on the slight curve of her lips, and he realized this conversation was heading somewhere dangerous.

“Fine,” he muttered, exhaling deeply. “Say whatever you want.”

Jade kept her hands on the steering wheel, focusing on the road ahead. The silence between them was thick, like a dense fog. Joel sat beside her, one hand resting on his knee while the other absentmindedly stroked his beard. His eyes drifted over the ruined buildings outside, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

Time passed in that quiet tension. Finally, Jade gathered the courage to speak, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She kept her eyes on the road.

“Joel… you know, you’re really hard to understand.”

Joel turned his head toward her, his face unreadable, but he had definitely heard the uncertainty in her voice.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his tone slightly rough.

Jade took a deep breath. She lifted her hands off the steering wheel, staring at them in the empty space for a few seconds as she thought. Then, she turned her head slightly and looked at Joel. Her eyes held a mix of emotions—hope, fear, and disappointment all tangled together.

"Uh..." she started, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... being around you feels strange. You're tough, grumpy... but at the same time, you're a good person. I mean, seeing your dedication to Ellie... it's impressive."

Joel tensed his shoulders under the weight of her words. He pressed his lips together as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

Jade stayed quiet for a few seconds before adding, "Sometimes... when people find more than they expected, they don’t know what to do with it."

Joel understood exactly what she meant. But the feelings her words stirred in him kept him from responding. He knew Jade had feelings for him, but he also knew he couldn’t return them. Years of pain, loss, and guilt had built a wall around him, keeping him from forming emotional attachments.

"Jade..." he finally said, his voice slightly cracked. "We just made a deal, remember?"

Those words hit Jade like a dagger to the heart. She quickly turned her eyes back to the road, gripping the wheel tightly. She was angry at herself—why had she been so open? Trying to compose herself, she let out a sharp laugh.

"Right, just a deal," she said. "Don't flatter yourself, Miller."

A few minutes later, Ellie returned to the car, holding a handful of gathered plants. A wide grin stretched across her face.

"Alright, we're ready!" she said, hopping into the car.

Joel shook his head. "You picked plants? What are you planning to do, Ellie? Make a bouquet?"

Ellie spoke seriously. "Of course not. We're going to use this for antiseptic. Also, I figured you two had talked. Don’t disappoint me."

Jade laughed at Ellie’s comment. "I think you're right about Joel."

Joel rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "Just drive. Let’s get going."

The road stretched ahead, and Joel remained silent. His eyes constantly scanned the surroundings for danger, but his mind was stuck on Jade’s words. The realization of her feelings stirred something inside him—something he wasn’t sure he could handle. A part of him wanted to embrace it, but another part knew he had to keep her at a distance. Everyone he had ever loved was gone. He couldn’t go through that pain again.

Meanwhile, Ellie kept chatting with Jade from the back seat, sharing childhood stories and cracking jokes about the old days.

"You know, Jade," Ellie said cheerfully, "you're not as grumpy as Joel. At least you smile every once in a while."

Jade laughed at Ellie’s comment, but her eyes drifted back to Joel. As she gazed at his stoic face, she realized how difficult it was to hide her own feelings. A voice inside her whispered, "You love him." But another voice warned, "This feeling will destroy you."

At one point, Ellie turned to Jade and asked about a song. "Come on, tell me. Do you know this one?"

Jade smiled. "Of course, I do," she said, and started singing along with Ellie.

As Joel listened to the two of them singing, he felt something inside him slowly start to unravel. But along with that unraveling came a sense of unease. Jade’s voice was cracking through his hardened shell.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he thought to himself, "What am I doing? I'm setting myself up for pain all over again."

Ellie then started another song:

"Country roads, take me home..."

Jade joined in. Her voice was softer compared to Ellie’s, but undeniably captivating. Joel kept staring out the window. Hearing Jade’s voice within the song, feeling the gentle tone of it, left him with a strange mix of peace and discomfort.

After a while, Joel took a deep, silent breath and shook his head slightly. "How much longer do I have to put up with Ellie’s little games?" he wondered. But deep down, he couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward Jade’s presence.

After a long and arduous journey, Joel, Ellie, and Jade finally arrived at the entrance of Cedar Heaven. The settlement was surrounded by massive concrete walls, protecting the remnants of civilization inside. From the outside, the contrast between the sanctuary and the chaotic world beyond was immediately apparent. Machine gun towers lined the walls, soldiers patrolled the perimeter, and a heavily fortified metal gate stood at the entrance, emphasizing Cedar Heaven’s determination to survive.

As they approached the gate, the sounds of life within reached their ears—children’s laughter, workers shouting, the rhythmic hum of generators. Yet, this peaceful ambiance was starkly contrasted by the stern expressions of the soldiers guarding the entrance.

A soldier raised his hand, commanding them to stop. "Halt! Don’t come any closer!" he ordered in a firm voice. Several others aimed their weapons at them. Ellie flinched slightly, but Joel immediately stepped forward to negotiate.

"We came a long way to get here," Joel said. "We’re just looking for a place to rest."

The soldier narrowed his eyes at him. "All of you? Drop your weapons and walk slowly toward the gate."

Joel scoffed at that. "Drop our weapons? In this fucked-up world, trusting someone is a death sentence. Give me one good reason to do that."

Ellie rolled her eyes at Joel’s rough tone. "Joel, if you keep talking like that, they’ll send us back before we even get in," she muttered.

Realizing that Joel’s approach was making things worse, Jade quickly intervened. She stepped forward with her hands open, speaking in a calm tone. "Look, we’re all exhausted. We’ve been traveling for a long time, and we really just need a place to rest. We’re not trying to bargain with you—we’re just trying to survive."

The soldier hesitated for a moment at Jade’s more peaceful approach. "We don’t know who you are. Cedar Heaven takes security seriously. How do we know you’re not infected?"

Jade understood their concern. She pulled out a map from her bag and showed the route they had taken. "We encountered infected along the way. If any of us were bitten, we wouldn’t have made it this far."

Joel interjected in his usual gruff tone. "Listen, if you're that paranoid, scan us. But hurry it up, because this kid..." He gestured at Ellie. "...is tired and hungry."

Ellie’s face flushed. "Hey, don’t call me ‘kid’ like that, Joel!"

The soldier glanced between Jade and Joel before speaking into his radio. "Three civilians at the checkpoint. We need a scan. Can we grant temporary access?"

A few minutes later, someone emerged from a small booth near the gate, holding an old medical scanner. The device emitted a high-frequency beep as it activated, designed to detect infection levels in the blood. Any anomaly would trigger an alarm.

Joel grumbled impatiently as they were scanned. "This is the dumbest damn procedure. If we were infected, do you think we’d still be standing here?"

Jade turned to him with a scolding look. "Joel, please. Just be patient."

Once the scan was complete, the device confirmed that they were clean. One of the soldiers turned to the gate and radioed for approval. A tense silence followed, making Joel’s patience wear even thinner.

Finally, the massive metal gate began to open, revealing the life inside Cedar Heaven. Green spaces, running generators, smiling people, and even a small market area came into view. Ellie’s eyes lit up. "Whoa… is this real? It looks like a dream!"

Joel, however, remained cautious. "Not a dream, Ellie. Nowhere is completely safe," he said gruffly.

Jade felt a mixture of relief and guilt as they stepped inside. She knew she needed to talk to Joel about his harsh attitude at the checkpoint, but she also understood that there was more to his behavior than just stubbornness.

As they entered, a settlement official greeted them and explained the basic rules. "All newcomers to Cedar Heaven must remain under observation for three days. During this time, you’ll be assigned temporary housing. Your needs will be met, but for the safety of the community, you must abide by our rules."

Joel didn’t seem too pleased with the official. Meanwhile, Ellie, still marveling at the settlement, laughed as she watched Joel and Jade’s constant bickering. All she could think was that this place might bring not only safety—but also a bit of entertainment.

Although Cedar Heaven seemed like a utopia compared to the outside world, strict discipline was enforced to maintain order. There was a quarantine area specifically for newcomers to prevent the community from being threatened by an infected individual. Joel, Ellie, and Jade were assigned to a barrack made of wooden planks and metal sheets—minimal but clean. Compared to the ruins of the outside world, this place offered a level of comfort that could almost be considered luxurious. Inside, there were two bunk beds, a small table, a few chairs, and an old but functioning gas stove placed in the corner.

Near the door, a few basic supplies provided by the community were neatly stacked: several bottles of water, canned food, hand sanitizer, and a few pieces of clean clothing. The clothes were donations from the community, chosen for practicality—durable pants, thick sweaters, and weather-appropriate boots. Upon seeing the clothes, Ellie mumbled under her breath,

"Fashion week is definitely canceled here..."

Joel responded with a smirk, "There’s no place for fashion in this world, Ellie. Does it work? Then you wear it."

Jade silently examined the clothes, choosing a pair of pants and a sweater. The ongoing tension between her and Joel was evident on her face. She averted her gaze, standing quietly in the corner, trying not to draw attention.

Meals in Cedar Heaven were served at specific times in a communal dining hall. When Joel, Ellie, and Jade entered for the first time, they couldn’t help but admire the organization and discipline within the hall. People sat at long tables, eating the distributed meals and engaging in quiet conversations. The food was simple but filling—bean soup, a few slices of bread, and canned vegetables.

Ellie took a sip of the soup and scrunched up her face. "What is this, Joel? Are we eating rubber?"

Joel lifted his spoon and took a big sip, then raised an eyebrow at her. "If you wanna survive, you eat it. Stop complaining."

Jade remained silent as she sipped her soup, not engaging much in the conversation. Noticing her quietness, Ellie nudged her lightly with her elbow.

"Hey, silent princess, don’t be so withdrawn. You better start talking to us, or you’ll be stuck listening to Joel’s boring stories."

Jade smiled but didn’t reply. Joel shot Ellie a sharp look. "My stories aren’t boring."

Ellie pursed her lips and grinned. "Of course, Joel. Of course..."

That night, Ellie had asked for permission to stay in the dining area and chat with new people. Joel hesitated but eventually let her go, knowing she needed to spend some time with others her age. This left only Joel and Jade in the barrack. As silence filled the room, Joel sat at the edge of the table, spinning his knife absentmindedly. Jade sat on the bed in the corner, flipping through the pages of an old book. Yet both of them were preoccupied with the weight of the silence.

Joel's mind kept drifting to Jade. He wanted to resolve the tension between them, but he didn’t know where to start. Finally, he took a deep breath and decided to speak.

"Jade..." he said, his voice initially soft but then growing firmer.

Jade lifted her head, surprised but wary. "Yes, Joel?"

Joel set his knife down on the table. "I know how I’ve treated you throughout this journey. I’ve been harsh. Unfair. But... this is who I am. And I can’t change that."

Jade frowned. "Joel, what are you trying to say?"

Joel remained silent for a moment before averting his gaze and continuing, "I’ve tried to ignore the way you feel about me. But you keep pushing whenever you get the chance. The problem is... what you feel isn’t right for either of us."

Jade’s expression wavered between shock and disappointment as she responded, "What’s not right, Joel? Not running from my feelings? Don’t worry, I’ll meet new people soon and leave you in peace."

Joel’s face tensed with a bitter smile. "You’re still too young, Jade. And me... I’m just a wreck trying to escape my past. My life exists only to keep Ellie safe. I have nothing to offer you."

Jade felt the weight of his words sink in, falling silent for a moment. But with tears welling in her eyes, she looked at him. "I can’t change how I feel about you, Joel. Even if a platonic love hurts more than anything..."

Joel lowered his head, his words catching in his throat. "These feelings... they make you weak. I can't protect you, Jade. In this world, love is a luxury. And there's no room for luxuries."

The silence between them spread through the room like a heavy fog. "The fact that I don’t love you breaks your heart, Jade. But I had to make it clear for your own good."

When Ellie returned to the cabin in her usual cheerful manner, she immediately sensed the heavy atmosphere inside. Her eyes darted between Joel and Jade. "What happened this time? You two look like you just tore each other apart."

Joel didn’t answer and lay down on his bed. Jade, meanwhile, kept her gaze fixed on the floor. Ellie, after waiting for a moment, shook her head and muttered to herself, "Ah, the world of adults is so weird."

Joel turned in his bed, closing his eyes, but he knew the weight inside him wouldn't let him sleep that night. Jade, too, tried to suppress her emotions, yet Joel's words echoed in her mind: "The fact that I don’t love you breaks your heart, Jade."

The leader of Cedar Heaven, Markus Hayes, was a charismatic and intelligent man in his late thirties. Thanks to him, the community had developed an organized structure and remained largely isolated from the outside world. His ability to influence people was his greatest strength, solidifying his leadership. The arrival of Joel, Ellie, and Jade had been reported to him, and once their quarantine was completed, he invited them to his office.

The office was on the upper floor of Cedar Heaven’s main building, a spacious room filled with neatly arranged files and maps on a large wooden desk. The walls were decorated with old-world maps, community plans, and various documents concerning the survivors. Markus sat behind the desk, carefully reviewing reports.

When a knock came at the door, he took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. "Come in," he said, his voice calm yet authoritative.

Joel, Ellie, and Jade entered. Markus' sharp green eyes first scanned Joel, then Ellie. But when he looked at Jade, he hesitated for a brief moment. There was something about her posture, her quiet determination, and her beauty that caught his attention.

Markus stood up and walked towards them. "Welcome," he said. His voice was soft yet carried the weight of leadership. "I’m Markus Hayes, leader of Cedar Heaven. If you managed to make it here, you must be quite capable."

Joel shook Markus' hand with a short, firm grip. "Joel Miller."

Ellie stepped forward with a grin. "Ellie. And yes, we’re capable. But really, this girl," she gestured toward Jade, "she’s the one who got us here."

Markus turned to Jade and extended his hand. "Is that so? Then I must congratulate you… Miss?"

Jade hesitated before shaking his hand. "Jade. I just wanted to help."

Markus' smile widened. "Wanting to help is a rare thing in this world. I hope you find a good place here, Jade."

Joel immediately noticed Markus' interest in Jade. The subtle shift in his voice, the way his gaze lingered—it sparked something in Joel’s chest, an ember of jealousy. Clenching his jaw, he rolled his eyes. "We’re just here to rest. Then we’re moving on."

Markus shook his head slightly. "Ah, Joel… This place isn’t just a rest stop. People build their lives here. Maybe you should consider that."

Before ending the meeting, Markus explained the privileges the community could offer. "I’ll be granting you some additional assistance," he said. "After all, we can always use talented people from the outside."

Joel responded with a sarcastic expression. "And what exactly do these ‘benefits’ have to do with us?"

Markus smirked, turning to Jade. "I just like to reward capable individuals, Joel. Especially someone as intelligent and strong as Jade."

Jade averted her gaze, slightly flustered. Joel, on the other hand, took a deep breath, struggling to keep his patience in check. "Seems like we need some rest. Can we leave now?"

Markus, sensing Joel’s frustration, remained unfazed. "Of course. But Jade, if you’d like to learn more about our organization, you’re welcome to visit me later."

As Joel headed for the door, Ellie was clearly amused, trying hard not to laugh. "Ah, Markus is such a sweet guy, isn’t he, Jade?" she teased.

---

Back at the cabin, Joel was nearly seething. His hands clenched, his face dark with frustration as he paced to the corner of the room. Ellie, enjoying the scene, sat back while Jade remained silent.

Joel finally broke the silence. "What exactly is this 'special treatment' that man is giving you, Jade?"

Jade lifted her head, meeting his gaze. "What do you mean?" she asked, her tone firm.

Joel took a step closer. "He made his interest in you pretty damn clear. Did you like that?"

Jade narrowed her eyes. "Does it matter, Joel? Or did you come here just to interrogate me?"

Sensing where this was going, Ellie quickly intervened. "Okay, okay, calm down! Joel, Markus was just being nice. And Jade benefited from it. We all did. Now don’t tear each other apart over it, alright?"

Joel didn’t respond to Ellie. He just took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. Jade turned away, hurt. She couldn’t understand why her feelings were affecting Joel this much.

Without looking at Ellie, Joel muttered, "We just need some rest."

But Jade could sense the storm of emotions behind his words. Joel’s jealousy confused her, but she had no plan to unravel it. The coming days in this community would only add more tension.

---

The next morning, Joel, Ellie, and Jade gathered in front of the large wooden building serving as the community's headquarters. It was a repurposed old town hall, its windows reinforced, solar panels lining the roof, and barbed wire surrounding the perimeter. From inside, the sounds of controlled chaos echoed—orders being shouted, discussions taking place, engines rumbling.

Markus emerged, dressed in a pragmatic yet refined manner. Even his clothing exuded authority and charisma; a sturdy leather jacket, binoculars and a notebook in his side pockets, an antique revolver at his belt. His eyes landed directly on Jade, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

"It’s time to introduce you to the way things work here in Cedar Heaven," Markus announced. He gestured toward the entrance, leading the group inside.

Inside, a large board displayed a list of assigned tasks: food supply, defense, training, repairs, medical production, and scouting. Markus pointed to each category, explaining who would be assigned where.

"Ellie, you’ll be in the training program. You’re young, you’ll learn quickly. Also, you’ll be trained in archery. We need to expand our skill sets." Ellie scrunched her nose. Training sounded way too boring for her.

Joel spoke briefly and to the point. "Joel Miller, you'll be assigned to defense and external patrol duties." His words were cold and formal. The mission was dangerous; there was always a risk of encountering infected or hostile groups. Joel understood this and frowned.

When it was Jade's turn, Markus’ tone changed completely. "Jade, you've proven yourself impressive with your repair skills. You'll be working with the machines and vehicles here. Also..." he said, locking eyes with Jade, "...you could join our management team. We need someone as talented as you."

Joel's hand clenched into a fist involuntarily. His face gave nothing away, but his mind was a storm of anger, jealousy, and frustration. Markus’ blatant interest in Jade was driving him mad.

After assigning the tasks, Markus promised Jade a more comfortable life in Cedar Heaven. "If you agree to join the management team, we'll provide you with a private accommodation. And we can arrange better supplies for you as well."

Jade furrowed her brows unconsciously. Markus’ interest was obvious, but these privileges were tempting after the harsh years she had endured. Yet, she couldn’t ignore Joel's reaction. When she stole a glance at him, she noticed the tension in his jaw.

Ellie stood beside Joel, visibly annoyed by Markus' words. "This guy really sticks his nose into everything, huh?" she muttered.

Joel said nothing. His hands were clenched at his sides, and his eyes were fixed on Jade. In the midst of all this special attention, he noticed how she looked—her eyes cast downward, considering the privileges Markus had offered, yet seeming like she wanted to be anywhere but there. Joel knew how strong Jade was, yet seeing her looking vulnerable affected him in ways he didn't understand.

That night, when Joel retreated to his bed, his mind was filled with thoughts of Jade and Markus. The thoughts wouldn’t let him sleep. He kept replaying Jade’s reaction to Markus’ words over and over again. It was impossible to ignore Markus’ clear desire to keep Jade close.

Ellie’s words echoed in his mind: "What do you think about Jade and Markus?" Joel hated that he couldn’t answer that question. The idea of Jade being close to someone else was driving him insane.

Joel finally made a decision. Instead of denying his feelings for Jade, it was time to say something. But just as he was about to act, Ellie entered the room.

"Joel," she said, her voice tired but firm. "We can’t let Jade be pressured into this. Markus seems decent, but we need to protect her. Don’t forget that."

Joel pondered the meaning behind Ellie’s words. Protect Jade... But was this just about keeping her physically safe, or was there something deeper—something about his inability to control his own emotions?

Mornings in Cedar Heaven were always busy and structured—patrol teams, farming work, and the distant echoes of gunfire from the training grounds filled the air. As Joel prepared for his first patrol, he headed to the defense equipment depot, which had been converted from an old garage. Around him, militia members of various backgrounds prepared in silent determination. The scent of metal and gunpowder reminded him of FEDRA outposts. He scanned the shelves, memorizing the locations of every weapon and bullet. This was how he survived—by being prepared.

The patrol leader showed Joel a simple route. On the map, Cedar Heaven’s perimeter was outlined with barbed wire, watchtower locations, and potential threat zones. "Joel, you’ll be patrolling the northeastern sector," the leader said. "We spotted a few infected there last week, but it should be clear for now. Stay sharp."

Joel acknowledged the instructions with a small nod. He pulled on a thick vest and grabbed a shotgun. As he inspected the weapon, his hands instinctively checked the trigger mechanism, a habit from years of experience. He was as stoic as ever on the outside, but his mind was elsewhere. Jade.

He had only seen her briefly that morning. She had gone to the vehicle repair area to start her assigned tasks. Even that short glimpse of her had stirred a wave of jealousy inside him. Markus’ obvious attraction to her made Joel’s blood boil. But Jade wasn’t just someone who didn’t belong with Markus. She was someone who represented a light in Joel’s life. And Joel couldn’t allow that.

As he patrolled the perimeter, his eyes scanned the surroundings, but his mind was fixated on Jade. Every shadow among the trees, every whisper of the wind carried echoes of her voice. He cursed himself. Survival in this world left no room for emotions. But no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, Jade’s presence haunted him like a ghost.

Jade had been working in Cedar Heaven’s repair area since early morning. Thanks to what she had learned during quarantine, most of the vehicles here were operational, though the lack of spare parts slowed things down. After listening to Markus’ instructions, she had picked up a wrench and got to work.

She relied on the knowledge her father had taught her about fixing vehicles. As she lifted the hood and examined the engine, her hands worked out of muscle memory. With dirty fingers, she checked the battery connections and spotted a leak in the radiator. She felt a quiet sense of pride—she could tell Markus was watching her with admiration. But that admiration made her uncomfortable. Because there was another pair of eyes she wanted to see. Joel’s eyes.

She convinced herself that Joel didn’t care about her. She reminded herself of this every single day. His cold and distant demeanor had slowly drained her courage. Who was she fooling? She had once believed that Joel was someone she could trust. But in the end, Joel only cared about his own survival and Ellie. She had learned not to trust people, and Joel was no exception. So she decided to keep her distance. But that decision didn’t stop her from secretly watching him whenever she could. She knew his patrol schedule, knew when he came and went.

As Jade wiped the grease from her hands, her eyes drifted toward Joel, who was walking in the distance with his shotgun slung over his shoulder. He looked strong and determined, and she couldn’t help but admire him. But admiration was mixed with sadness. Because Joel’s distance sent her a clear message: "Stay away from me. Don’t trust me. I’ll only hurt you."

Joel patrolled the perimeter, locked in an internal battle. On one hand, he told himself he shouldn’t think about Jade. She would be better off with someone like Markus, a leader who could offer her stability. But on the other hand, the thought of Jade smiling next to Markus ignited a rage inside him. He struggled to understand why his feelings were so intense. Jade wasn’t supposed to mean anything to him. But it wasn’t that simple.

His eyes drifted to where Jade was working. Her hands were covered in grease, her face illuminated by the sunlight. Every movement she made revealed her skill and strength. Joel thought of his past—Sarah, Ellie, and now Jade. The world had always taken away the people he loved. Maybe that was why thinking about Jade hurt so much. Because if he let himself get close, he would lose her too.

They were so close, yet so far from each other.

Cedar Heaven was running as usual, but for Markus, seeing Jade had become one of the moments he looked forward to the most in his day. On the outside, she appeared tough and distant, but Markus saw the fragility, intelligence, and strength within her. He admired Jade’s diligence and skill. Instead of hiding his admiration, he started making up excuses to call her frequently.

That morning, Jade was busy inspecting a vehicle in the repair workshop. Her hands were greasy as she worked under the hood when one of Markus’ assistants arrived. "The leader wants to see you," said the young woman. Jade frowned—Markus’ summons had been becoming more frequent lately, and it unsettled her. Nevertheless, she nodded politely and grabbed a cloth to clean her hands.

Jade knocked on the door, and Markus invited her in. As always, he looked cheerful and friendly.

"Jade, you arrived just on time," Markus said, setting aside the papers in his hand. "I need to ask you something."

Jade patiently listened to Markus, but she soon realized that his real intention wasn’t to consult her—it was simply to spend time with her. Their conversation shifted from Cedar Heaven’s tasks to Jade’s past.

"Your father was a mechanic, wasn’t he? It shows," Markus said, complimenting her as he offered her a cup of coffee. Jade declined, but the warmth in Markus' gaze made her even more uncomfortable.

Markus kept finding excuses to get close to her, touching her hair, brushing her cheek, or standing so close that there was almost no space left between them. His meaningful stares made it clear that he wanted her to feel the attraction between them.

"You are one of the most talented people here, Jade," Markus said, his eyes locked on her face. "It's a privilege to work with someone like you."

Jade responded with a forced smile. She could have stopped Markus from behaving this way, but she didn’t. Whenever Joel disappointed her or made her feel inadequate, she used Markus’ attention as a defense against the anger she felt toward Joel. But she was making a mistake. Even though she remained cautious around Markus, he interpreted her tolerance differently, taking it as encouragement.

When Markus suddenly grabbed her waist and pulled her close, Jade was caught off guard. She thanked him for the conversation but quickly made up an excuse to leave the office. She felt as if her chest was tightening. Markus’ intentions were now clear, but she didn’t have the courage to confront him about it.

By the time Joel returned to Cedar Heaven from his patrol, he was exhausted, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of Jade. After handing in his weapon at the depot, he searched for Ellie. He found her sitting in the cafeteria, stirring a hot bowl of soup that Jade had brought her.

"Ellie," Joel said, his voice carrying a tired but firm tone. "How are you?"

Ellie put her spoon down and smirked. "I'm fine. But judging by that look on your face, I’d say you’re not."

Joel ignored her teasing. He sat down and stared at Ellie’s bowl. "Where's Jade?" he asked.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Last I saw, she was in Markus' office. He calls for her a lot. Something’s going on."

Joel's brows knitted together. "What do you mean?"

Ellie shrugged. "Can’t you see it? The guy is obviously into her. Rumors spread fast."

Joel's face grew more tense as he processed Ellie’s words. Under the table, his fists clenched, and he gritted his teeth. His jealousy burned, mixing with his growing anger. The mere thought of Jade spending time with Markus was enough to drive him crazy. But he couldn't let it show.

He stood up and walked outside, letting the cold air hit his face as his mind spiraled. Markus’ interest in Jade was obvious. But what bothered him even more was that he didn’t know how Jade felt about it. Maybe she felt safer around Markus. Maybe she was responding to his flirtatious gestures, smiling that sweet smile of hers—the one that haunted Joel’s thoughts.

Joel knew his dark past made him unworthy of someone like Jade. But that didn’t stop the jealousy from eating him alive.

Ellie’s words echoed in his mind. Jade being in Markus’ office, Markus finding excuses to touch her... These thoughts fueled Joel’s anger. He felt humiliated, but the worst part was the fear of losing her.

As Cedar Heaven’s daily routine continued, Jade noticeably distanced herself from both Joel and Ellie. At first, it seemed temporary, but over time, it became a habit. Whenever Ellie saw Jade in the cafeteria, she would wave excitedly and try to strike up a conversation. But Jade always found an excuse to leave.

"I'll talk to you later, Ellie. I have a meeting to get to," she said once, motioning to the files in her hands.

Ellie didn’t understand why Jade was acting this way, but she had a feeling it had something to do with Joel. Joel, on the other hand, pretended not to notice. But each day, he became more withdrawn, sitting alone in a corner, watching everything from a distance.

Markus and Jade’s connection had become an open secret in Cedar Heaven. People whispered about how often Jade was summoned to his office and how Markus made efforts to spend time with her.

"I think Markus wants to keep Jade close," one woman whispered in the cafeteria.

"Close? I think it’s more than that," another responded with a smirk.

Hearing these rumors only made Joel’s anger grow. Everyone was talking about Jade and Markus, speculating about their relationship and questioning Markus' intentions. But what Joel couldn’t understand was why Jade tolerated it. These thoughts gnawed at him, filling him with a mix of rage and jealousy.

One day, in the storage area, Joel spotted Jade walking side by side with Markus. They appeared to be discussing something on a map, but Markus' smile and Jade’s relaxed demeanor were enough to make Joel’s blood boil. The weight in his chest grew heavier, and he found himself leaning against the wall, struggling to steady his breathing.

Ellie could see the change in Joel. He was quieter, angrier than before. During meals, he often drifted off, lost in thought, and during patrols, he was harsher than necessary. Eventually, Ellie decided to confront him.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" she asked, catching Joel at a rare moment alone.

Joel frowned, as if he didn't understand. "What are you talking about, Ellie?"

Ellie crossed her arms and gave him a challenging look. "I'm talking about Jade. You love her. We both know it. But what are you doing? Just standing back and letting Markus spend time with her."

Joel's face hardened. "Ellie, this is none of your business."

"Yeah? Well, you're not doing anything about it!" Ellie snapped. "Age gap, past, whatever… You're using those as excuses. But the truth is, Joel, you're just scared to tell her how you feel."

Joel felt anger rise within him, but deep down, he knew Ellie was right. The feelings he had for Jade sat in his chest like a heavy weight.

After Ellie’s words, Joel remained silent for a long time. Even when the stars appeared in the night sky, his thoughts were still on Jade. Every moment she spent with Markus was torture for him. But it was a torture he had created himself.

***

Cedar Heaven was on the brink of unexpected chaos. Midnight had passed, and most of the settlement's residents were asleep. But the first scream shattered the silence, changing everything. One of the patrol guards shouted that a group of infected had broken through the inner defense line. Within moments, sirens echoed through the settlement, filling the air with fear. People scrambled behind barricades, clutching the few weapons they had.

Joel was awake the moment he heard the alarm. Years of survival instincts kept him alert. He checked on Ellie—she had already jumped out of bed, eyes wide with shock and fear.

"Joel, what's happening?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Joel slung his backpack over his shoulder, his voice short and firm. "Infected. We need to make sure we’re safe before heading out. Stay close."

Ellie saw the seriousness in his expression and simply nodded. But Joel's mind was on someone else too—Jade. Was she safe? Did she have a weapon? Had Markus already found her?

But he had chosen to stay away from her. His own decision. And now, he regretted it.

Getting Ellie to safety was Joel's first priority. They moved quickly toward the center of the settlement. Screams and explosions shattered the usual quiet of Cedar Heaven. Every corner held a new threat. Joel kept Ellie behind him, staying alert with every step.

"Stay here," he instructed, pointing to a reinforced barricade. "Don't move. Not until I get back, got it?"

Ellie, for once, didn’t argue. She just nodded. Joel gave her a firm look before turning away and heading into the chaos—searching for Jade.

Joel moved through the tangled streets, trying not to lose his way. Every panicked person rushing past him, every pile of debris, every collapsed barricade only added to his anxiety. How did they miss such a large attack? But there was no time for answers.

He turned a corner and stopped when he saw something on the ground—a torn, bloody, and dirtied shirt that looked like it belonged to Jade. His heart pounded. She was here. Maybe still nearby.

What if Markus had already found her? What if she was with him now? The thought gnawed at him.

Then, a low growl echoed in the distance. Joel focused on the sound. Further down the street, a group of infected moved slowly but menacingly. And behind them, something even worse—a bloater. Joel’s grip tightened around his rifle. If Jade was trapped somewhere near this mess, she didn’t have much of a chance.

He moved carefully through the shadows, avoiding the infected. As he rounded another corner, he saw her—Jade, fighting off a group of infected. She held her pistol steady, taking careful shots and landing each one with deadly precision. Joel hesitated for a moment. She was fearless. Determined.

But the numbers were against her, and her ammunition was running low. Just as an infected crept up behind her, Joel raised his rifle and fired a single shot, dropping the creature instantly.

Jade flinched at the unexpected help but quickly recovered.

"Joel?" she called out, her voice a mix of shock and frustration.

"I came for you," Joel said, his voice gruff but sincere.

Jade hesitated for a second, then raised her gun again. "Alright, hero. Then let's fight."

Side by side, in the pouring rain and the darkness, they took down the infected one by one. Even in their silence, there was so much left unsaid, but for now, all that mattered was survival.

Rain poured from the sky, turning the ground beneath them into slippery mud. Joel’s rifle was wet, but his focus remained sharp. Ahead, silhouettes moved in the darkness—more infected. The guttural growls and eerie clicking sounds crept closer.

Joel glanced at Jade. She was quiet, focused. Her pistol was ready, her stance steady. He had noticed her agility back when she first arrived at Cedar Heaven, during that chaotic car chase. But now, fighting side by side, seeing her resilience firsthand—it gave him an unexpected sense of reassurance.

"Three on our left," Jade whispered. Joel nodded.

"Take that side. I’ll cover your back," he replied firmly.

Jade moved swiftly, aiming at the targets on the left while Joel turned to the right. His first shot hit a runner dead center in the forehead, but more were coming.

A sharp clicking noise made Joel instinctively duck. A Clicker was charging straight for him. Its grotesque fungal growth twisted its face into an inhuman shape, its movements erratic and terrifying.

"Damn it," Joel muttered, raising his pistol and firing twice. The creature shrieked before collapsing.

Jade’s voice rang out. "Joel, behind you!"

Joel turned just in time to see a Stalker creeping up on him. But Jade was faster. She lunged, plunging her knife into the infected’s throat. It gurgled, then dropped to the ground.

"You could be a little more careful, old man," Jade said with a smirk.

Joel tried to mask his surprise. "You enjoying this?"

"A little," Jade admitted, though her tone was serious.

Joel pressed his back against a wall, quickly assessing the situation. More infected were on their way, following the sounds of gunfire. Clickers and Stalkers, plus a runner—fast but weaker.

Joel formulated a plan in his head. They were outnumbered. But they still had a fighting chance.

"There's a generator up ahead. If we make some noise, we can draw their attention there," Joel said.

"Then what?" Jade asked.

"We'll take them down one by one. I'll handle the heavy work, you take care of the fast ones."

Jade nodded. "Alright. But don’t slow me down."

Joel smirked slightly at her response. For a moment, he thought back to the first time they fought together. Until they reached Cedar Heaven, he had witnessed how fast and strategic Jade could be in the infected-filled streets. Now, being a team again gave Joel an unexpected surge of energy. Somehow, it made them stronger.

They moved according to their plan. Joel threw a few rocks at the generator to draw attention. The infected gathered around the engine, falling into their trap one by one. Joel swung his spiked baseball bat at a Runner, sending it crashing to the ground. Then, he quickly stabbed a Clicker approaching from behind.

Jade, using her speed and agility, drove her knife into another Runner's throat. Joel glanced at her for a moment, observing the precision and determination in her movements. As she moved on to her next target, he found himself unable to look away. Her fluid movements proved, once again, just how strong she had to be to survive.

When a Clicker lunged at Jade from behind, Joel intervened swiftly. He aimed his rifle at the creature's head and took it down with a single shot.

"Thanks," Jade said without turning around.

"We watch each other's backs, don’t we?" Joel replied.

Jade took down a Stalker and turned, locking eyes with him. In her gaze, Joel saw a deep resolve, but also pain. The days they had spent trying to stay away from each other now felt meaningless in the chaos of this fight. Seeing her courage and strength, Joel was reminded once more why he found her so compelling.

By the end of the battle, they were both out of breath. Joel slung his rifle over his shoulder and looked at Jade. Her face was covered in sweat and blood, but her eyes still burned with determination.

"You alright?" Joel asked, his voice slightly unsteady.

"I’m alive, so yeah," Jade replied with a small smile.

A brief silence fell between them. They stood there, staring at each other as the world around them quieted.

After a while, they made their way to one of the shelters. They were drenched from the rain. Announcements over the base's speakers confirmed that the southern wing was back under control. Whoever had caused this recklessness would be found and punished.

The dim light of the shelter blended with the cold stone walls, amplifying the silence that echoed within. Jade sat on a wooden chair in the corner, absentmindedly playing with the knife in her hands. Her fingers moved with practiced ease, using the small task to mask the storm inside her. Her gaze occasionally flicked to Joel, but she quickly looked away each time.

Joel sat at an old metal table across from her, cleaning his weapon. His movements were mechanical, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

It was as if an invisible tension had wrapped around the room. They both felt it, yet neither dared to be the first to cut through it.

Joel sighed, rubbing the rifle’s barrel with a cloth. His hands moved on instinct, but his thoughts were focused on Jade. She acted like she wasn’t aware of it, but Joel felt her every movement.

"You're being reckless," he finally said, his voice softer but still uncertain. "If you keep working alone like this, one day I won’t be able to find you."

Jade took a deep breath and turned to him. *"The real danger isn’t the infected, Joel. The real danger is people." Her eyes glistened. "Do you even realize what people do to each other? Even Markus..." she trailed off.

Joel sensed something hidden in her words. "Markus? What did he do to you?" His voice hardened instantly.

Jade shook her head. "Nothing. It’s just... I don’t trust people. That’s why I work alone when I’m assigned a mission. And..." She hesitated, breaking eye contact. "That’s why I couldn’t trust you either."

Joel felt his anger falter. He slowly stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "You couldn’t trust me?" he murmured. "Jade... I was only trying to protect you."

Jade met his gaze again, her expression a mix of anger and sorrow. "You left me alone... You never really cared about me... Not even as a friend... I’m just trying to protect myself, that’s all."

Joel remained silent for a few moments. This was the most honest conversation they had ever had. He could see both fragility and strength in her face. Seeing her like this broke something inside him.

"Whenever you need me, I’ll be there, Jade... I left Ellie behind to come to you. If something happens to you... Losing you would be like losing everything."

Jade smiled, but to Joel, it still carried so much pain. Being this close to her, realizing just how deep their emotions ran, made everything even harder. Her fears and trust issues didn’t make her weak—they made her human.

"Don’t forget this, Joel. Sometimes we have to be close to each other. But that closeness should make us stronger, not amplify our fears," she said, her voice still trembling.

Joel nodded. They sat in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken words thick between them. Jade's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, yet she still found strength.

She quietly gathered her things. Joel, leaning against the wall, watched her.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice as stern as ever, but underneath it lay a hint of worry.

Jade avoided Joel’s gaze as she noticed the tone in his voice. “I need to check in with Markus. I haven’t returned in a while, he must be worried.”

The thought of that man constantly watching Jade, always finding a reason to be near her, drove Joel insane. Just the idea of Markus wondering whether she had returned to the shelter or not was enough to make his blood boil. And now, seeing Jade about to walk away, a volcano of jealousy and anger threatened to erupt inside him.

“He must be worried, huh?” Joel said sarcastically, pressing his lips into a tight line.

Jade turned to look at him. “Yes, he must be. We all have responsibilities here, Joel. Is that a problem?”

Joel took a few steps toward her. “A problem? You mean that guy following you around all the time? Saying he’s worried about you? You think that’s normal?” His voice was low, but there was an unmistakable edge of anger in it. “Why don’t you stay away from Markus? Don’t you see how he looks at you? Are you that blind?”

Jade let out a tired breath, her expression weary. “I’m not blind, Joel! I see everything. But you’ve been distant, pushing me away, and I didn’t know what else to do! You keep shutting me out, and Markus… at least he sees me.”

The words hit Joel like a dagger to the chest. “Sees you, huh? What does he see? How to manipulate you? How to get closer to you?” His anger was rising. “Do you really think his intentions are pure?”

Jade cut in sharply. “He can’t manipulate me, Joel. I know what he wants, and I know what he’s thinking. And honestly, you have no right to judge me.”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, trying to rein in his frustration. “I’m not judging you. I’m trying to protect you, Jade! But it’s like you’re purposely running toward him just to spite me. Why? Are you trying to punish me?”

Jade froze for a second, her gaze locking onto his. “That’s not true. I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of you not loving me. I wanted to forget you. Because I heard it from your own mouth, Joel. You don’t love me. Your anger pushed us to this point. And yes, maybe Markus was part of it, but it wasn’t just about him.”

Joel stood still, speechless. “You’re punishing yourself just to stop loving me? Jade, that man is dangerous. How can you not see that?”

Jade furrowed her brows, shaking her head. “Joel… I *am* afraid of Markus, okay? His attention makes me uncomfortable. But if I didn’t feel so alone, maybe I wouldn’t do things like this. You’ve always been a wall. I’ve tried to reach you, but you keep pushing me away.”

Joel’s anger wavered for a moment. He could see both rage and pain in her eyes. “You’re scared…” he repeated, his voice softer now, thoughtful. “Then stay away from him! Jade, if he ever hurts you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Jade let out a deep breath, lowering her eyes. “I feel alone, Joel. You think you’re protecting me, but you’re breaking me, every single day. Every moment I think you don’t love me, *that* is what hurts. And the person hurting me the most… is you. Markus… at least he listens to me. At least I can pretend to find some kind of solace.”

Joel felt something shift inside him. His hands clenched into fists, but this time, his anger wasn’t directed at her—it was at himself. “Jade, I’d protect you from everything. If it comes down to it, we’ll leave this damn place. But Markus? I can’t stand him. I won’t stand him."

Jade felt the weight of his words, for the first time sensing his sincerity. But she also knew how conflicted he was. She lowered her head slightly, speaking in a quiet voice. “Joel, trust me. Nothing ever happened between Markus and me. And I don’t feel anything for him. But you have to stop leaving me like this.”

Joel stayed silent for a long moment. Finally, he exhaled, trying to steady himself. “I won’t leave you, Jade. I’ll protect you. But if Markus ever lays a hand on you… this place will burn.”

The tension in the shelter was thick, pressing in on them like an invisible force. And yet, deep down, they both knew that this confrontation had brought them closer.

“The lie you told… about not loving me. It *was* a lie, wasn’t it?” Jade’s voice was soft, but firm. “You’re jealous of Markus because you love me. Desperately.”

Joel looked at her, his emotions swirling in his eyes. “Yes… but that’s not the point, Jade. I don’t deserve you.”

A bitter smile formed on Jade’s lips. She could see how much he loved her, but she could also see how hard he was trying to push her away. “That’s not your decision to make, Joel.”

Joel tried to take a step back, but Jade had already closed the distance between them. Her fingertips brushed against his hand—such a simple touch, yet it paralyzed him. His hands suddenly felt heavier, his heartbeat louder, as if something was holding him in place.

“Don’t,” Joel murmured, his voice rough, but fragile.

Jade tilted her head slightly, searching his eyes. “Why, Joel? Do you *really* love me, or do you just see me as someone you need to protect?”

A low sound rumbled in Joel’s throat, but it wasn’t an answer—just hesitation. Jade took another step forward. Now, their breaths mingled in the space between them.

Jade slowly lifted her hands and gently cupped Joel’s face. The warmth of her touch both calmed him and set him on edge. He closed his eyes, feeling her fingertips trace his skin. And yet, all he could think was how wrong this was.

"Jade..." he whispered, his voice trembling.

Without hesitation, Jade slowly reached for Joel. When her lips touched his, time seemed to stop. That kiss stirred a storm inside Joel and, for a brief moment, made him forget all his burdens. But Joel pulled away.

"This isn't right," he said, his breath unsteady. "You're young, Jade. I... I don't want to drag you into this."

But Jade didn't step back. She placed her hands on Joel's shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. "Right or wrong, let me decide that. You always try to make choices for me, but Joel, I'm telling you what I want. I want you."

Joel's breath hitched. Seeing the determination in her eyes, he felt his walls begin to crumble. Yet, he still tried to resist. "Jade, if you knew my past, the things I've done... you'd understand why I'm afraid of hurting you."

Jade cut him off. "I've known enough people to recognize who would harm me, Joel. What hurts me is you running away from me."

Her words shook Joel more than he expected. Jade pressed her lips against his again, this time with more confidence, more passion. At first, Joel resisted, but in the end, he surrendered completely. His hands instinctively wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.

That moment was like an explosion for both of them—a release of years of built-up emotions, fears, and longing. Despite all his doubts, Joel felt the reality of the moment. And Jade, in his arms, felt safe and whole.

When the kiss ended, both were breathless. Joel leaned his forehead against Jade’s. "What... what are we doing?" he whispered, his voice almost desperate.

Jade smiled softly. "We're doing the right thing, Joel."

As Joel tried to process her words, the turmoil inside him slowly settled into a quiet acceptance. The trust and love in Jade’s eyes brought him peace for the first time.

This time, her kiss was deeper, more intense. Joel resisted for a moment longer, but then he let everything go. His hands gripped her waist as he pulled her in. Their kiss was a collision of pent-up emotions—fear, pain, and desire merging into one.

Joel's breath trailed down to Jade’s neck as she clung to his shoulders. Time felt like it had stopped. The dim lights of the shelter cast soft shadows over their faces. As Joel let himself believe in this moment, he realized his walls had completely crumbled.

“No one can touch you but me,” Joel said, innocent as a child afraid of losing, “this is not something I can handle.”

Joel took off the girl’s wet jacket with a nasty movement and threw it in a corner. Her gray T-shirt was soaked from the pouring rain and stuck to her body. The cold hardened her nipples, exposing itself to Joel’s eyes through the cloth that hugged her body. Joel cupped her breasts through the cloth and began to caress the swelling lumps with his thumb. The movement that had echoed in Jade’s groin and sent butterflies flying through her belly now made her feel even more passionate as she reached for his lips. Her moist tongue met his between his lips, soothing the old wolf’s wounds. A white sheet was spread over the marks etched into his soul.

While they continued kissing, Jade's hand didn't stop either. She pushed Joel's hands on her breasts, allowing him to free his arms, and just like he did, she started to take off Joel's jacket. Everything was happening very fast. She had to. The fear of being caught was added to the intensity of their suppressed feelings for each other. A group of guards could raid them in the shelter while looking for people who were dead or bitten and at risk of infection. Normally, this shouldn't have been a big problem. One of the guards would smile at such a sight, curse with a half-mocking, half-envious expression on his face, and wait for them to leave the shelter with the same expression. However, Jade was the apple of their leader's eye and had a character that would turn dark for the sake of their goals. If they were very lucky, they could sacrifice them to the infected group.

But their repressed sexual feelings were very strong in turning the fear into fantasy in their minds. Joel Miller tangled his fingers in Jade's hair, pressing her closer to him, while his other hand went to his belt, trying to unbuckle it. Jade was luckier in this regard. Her fingers undid the button and pulled down his pants by holding them by the edges. Since the cut of the pants was designed to be wide, they slid on the smooth surface of the girl's thin legs and met the ground. She was much more comfortable now. She had cleaned herself of her clothes, which were a mixture of blood, rain and sweat, and wrapped her arms tightly around Joel's neck. She was moaning as if she were enjoying a pleasure she had forgotten the taste of.

Joel finally managed to get rid of his pants despite the girl's active nature. He pulled his lips away from hers and ended the passionate French kiss. He bent his knees slightly and got down to her level, reaching her upper thighs. He wrapped her legs around him and lifted her up. Now the girl was in his lap, her womanhood pressing against his manhood. Jade took Joel's face between her hands as they looked passionately into his eyes. Just as her lips were about to part to say the words, Joel didn't let her. "I was scared to death of losing you, Jade. But I'd rather die than see you with someone else," he said. This time their kiss was much harder and more uncontrolled. It was an expression of all the accumulated emotions, suppressed pleasures. Joel wasn't just kissing, he was telling stories about everything that had happened from the time they met until that night and the moments he couldn't explain inside; tongue strokes symbolized regret, small bites symbolized fear, lip movements symbolized loss... Everything fit into that kiss.

At a moment when the fire between the two seemed to disrupt the physical balance between them, Joel wrapped his arms tighter around Jade's body and Jade suddenly groaned when her back hit the wall; she lost her breath between the coldness of the wall and the man's warmth.

"You made me dependent on you, I am ready to be your prisoner," Joel said, his voice cracking and determined. If his daughter were alive, she would be older than Jade, but he wanted to be destroyed in the love of a young woman even younger than his daughter.

There was not the slightest hesitation in Jade's gaze in the face of these words; she was ready to leave herself to Joel with all the weight of that moment.

He waited for a moment, as if time had stopped. Then he brought his lips down on hers again like a hurricane. His hands were gripping her hips tightly, caressing them. He was protecting her by holding her between him and the wall.

Jade's hands first grabbed onto his shoulders with excitement, then slowly slid down to his neck. Their kisses softened for a moment, giving way to a deeper, more sensual passion. He bounced the girl in his arms and held her tighter, pressing his chest against hers more, as if he wanted to hide her from the world. While the girl's back was against the wall, Joel's lips slid down to her neck. The tension between them grew stronger with each breath they exchanged. The shiver Jade felt on her skin spread from her spine to her entire body. The girl whispered his name, her voice trembling like an oath. This made Joel more eager. His cock began to stir, and as he got erect, the pressure he was exerting on her womanhood increased. There was only a piece of cloth between his vagina and his penis. As their bodies continued their movements in sync, the tip of his cock brushed against her clit, Jade's eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as she pulled away from Joel's lips. She was breathing shallowly and moaning, her teeth clenched tightly.

Joel, meanwhile, had become a little more irritable as a manifestation of his fears. As their sexuality grew more sensitive, the dreams of Markus and Jade echoing in Joel's mind were the only source of passion in his aroused body.

When Jade suddenly turned her head to the right with the pleasure she was experiencing, Joel's lips slid to Jade's jawbone. He kissed her chin hard, rubbing it around it, and as his jealousy darkened his heart, he made Jade feel his teeth as if he wanted to hurt her and make her pay. When he finally stopped at her ear, he growled. "As long as the fucker stayed close to you, I wanted to kill him! To shot between his eyebrows without mercy... Like before." As if his jealousy was feeding his strength, he moved his hand to the girl's panties. In the meantime, Jade, whose leg was free, wrapped her legs tighter around the man's waist and hooked her feet together. As Joel pulled the tight panties aside harshly, the sound of the fabric tearing filled his ears. When Joel met her vulva with his fingers, he was surprised by how wet she was. How could he better express that Jade was so ready for him, that he was deprived of his skin? His fingertips were sliding easily on her wet inner lips. So wet and sticky. He stroked at about the same pace, speeding up the movement of his fingertips as he reached her clitoris, creating a vibrator effect. The hundreds of capillaries inside her clitoris were doubling their sensitivity as she felt Joel's breath on her ear and neck. Her breath was trembling with pleasure, her moans continuing to harden Joel's cock, stimulating the entrance to her vagina under the fabric.

Joel asked, almost in a whisper. "Like you said," he said, imitating her nickname for him, "do you like it when the old wolf touches your pussy like that, Jade, huh?" The warmth released from between his lips tickled her skin as he moaned into her ear. "Smooth and puffy."

While caressing with one hand, he continued to apply pressure to her vagina from under his boxers and stimulate the entrance of her vagina as if he was going to enter. "If I see you smile at him one more time, I won't be able to control myself after tonight," he clenched his teeth and his voice trembled with ambition, "I swear to you Jade. Because there is no one who can love you as much as I do, no one else can understand you, no one else can see you the way I do." Finally, he tightly clasped his middle and index fingers together and slid inside her entrance. Jade's moans echoed loudly off the walls as he moved his fingers rapidly inside her. She was holding Joel's muscular arms so tightly that her nails nearly dug into his flesh and made it bleed. "FUCK... JOEL!"

Joel pretended not to notice her and continued, "No one can satisfy you like this old wolf can, do you understand?"

Jade's breathing pattern was completely disrupted, and she was trying to answer Joel with moans squeezed between her trembling breathing. "Yes Joel, I belong only to you. My soul and body...only you...you can touch me."

Joel buried his head in her neck and breathed in the wonderful scent of her skin, now stripped of the odor of sweat. And when he lifted his head again, there was a note of triumph in his voice and expression. "Oh, there's my sweet girl. There's my baby girl."

Joel Miller’s cock was no different than Jade’s vagina. The colorless, sticky precum that leaked from the tip had seeped through the fabric of his gray boxers, darkening the light gray tone. The veins on his penis had grown larger and larger, swollen enough that it was visibly twitching under the skin. The cum pooling in his balls was too much to fit through the fabric. His tip was flushed with the tingle of the moment it met her vagina. Joel could not bear it any longer. He asked breathlessly, “Can you feel my cock, Jade, huh? Can you feel how hungry it is for you, how it yearns to enter your burning cunt, oh Jade?”

"Yes, Joel, I want him inside me so bad."

Joel put his lips to her ear and whispered. It was as if he was trying to drive her crazy. "Do you want daddy inside you, huh? Do you want me to fuck you like no one else, not even that son of a bitch Markus, could?"

"Yes Joel," she moaned as Joel prodded her with his fingers inside her.

"No, forget Joel! Say daddy, say it! Do you want me to fuck you so hard?"

"Fuck... Oh, yes daddy, I want you to fuck me. I beg you daddy... I want your old cock inside me."

Joel growled as he pulled his boxers down to his balls with a greedy tone. "I'm gonna show you what that old cock will do to you now, my little whore," Joel said. "No one else turns you on like me."

Finally Joel took his penis in his hand, held it tightly, and inserted the tip into Jade's vagina and pushed it in quickly. Its squeaky voice mixed with her moans and trembling breaths. Jade's body shook, Joel tightened his leg and hip muscles. But they soon got used to it. Joel moved in and out of the girl's warm vagina comfortably. He felt how his big cock was wrapped between the rough vaginal walls while inside the girl's hole. Jade had never encountered a penis with such a perfect anatomy before. He was applying equal pressure to the sensitive points of her vagina, allowing her to experience equal depths of pleasure. Her pupils rolled in their sockets, her moans quickened. As Joel increased his speed, Jade's hands were released from Joel's arms and hung down and to the sides. Her feet were swinging at least a foot off the ground, parallel to Joel's hard movements. Jade had completely surrendered herself to the strong arms of pleasure.

Joel tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the pleasure he was getting from Jade's vagina. "Oh, yes! You're such an insatiable, greedy whore, Jade," Joel moaned.

As Joel continued to thrust his penis into Jade, a muffled, runny sound was coming out of her insides, which were bathed in both of their pre-cum. As his speed increased, the man placed his hands under the girl's hips and caressed her tightly, bouncing her on his lap a few times to correct their position that was about to deteriorate. Although this movement caused Jade to lose her balance due to the proximity to the wall, she immediately raised her arms and hugged her older man tightly. The hard blows were driving Jade crazy and her screams were coming out. Fearless, brave, it didn't matter that her voice was spilling out into the streets. The idea of being caught by Markus' men while Joel Miller was fucking her only cared enough to increase her lust. She trusted this man so much, she was so sure of what he could do, this confidence gave her courage.

Joel looked desperate now, his voice trembling with a raspy voice. “You’re not just my lover, you’re my disease, Jade,” he said. “I’m obsessively in love with you.” He kept thrusting. It was as if every word he said was a spur to his hormones that filled the room. He pulled the girl’s hair hard. Her anatomy became apparent under the tightening skin of her neck. The green and blue tones of the veins wrapping around the blood flowing under the skin, her throat, her collarbone… And Joel began to bite mercilessly into her neck. The teeth marks were left on the skin. The girl’s mixed moans of pain and pleasure gave Joel a sexual power. Without taking his lips off her neck, he spoke again. “If anyone else sees you the way I see you, I will destroy those eyes, Jade. Because those eyes should never even dream of having you!”

Joel's penis was throbbing. It seemed like he couldn't take it anymore. His groin began to ache. Without letting the girl off his lap and without getting out of her, he quickly approached the metal table in the corner of the shelter. In the meantime, Jade was begging Joel with the right timing to make her cum. That was all she had in mind. When Joel laid her down hard, face down on the metal table, the cold surface of the metal made her shiver.

"Don't worry, horny girl. Daddy's going to pour his hot, sticky cum inside you in a minute," Joel said breathlessly, his voice slightly raspy. He picked up the pace. He thrust harder. His groin was slapping her ass, her tight hips shaking and shaking. His balls were slapping her clit, and Joel was driving himself wild with pleasure, pushing himself to use his power over her. He tangled his hands in Jade's hair and pressed her face into the hard surface of the table.

Meanwhile, Jade moaned nervously. "Are you going to cum inside me, Joel?"

Joel replied with a devilish grin, "Yes, sweet baby, daddy's gonna get you pregnant."

Jade was so caught up in the pleasure of the moment that she could only say, "No." She couldn't resist Joel, on the contrary, she was diving deeper into the well of lust. But Joel got more furious at her negative response and growled. "Yes, baby, I'm going to get you pregnant." FUCK!" She was so close now... Both of them. Joel put his hands on her shoulders, holding her tightly, and leaned down, putting his weight on her. "I wonder what his face will look like when I tell Markus that your pussy belongs only to me," he said in a tone where hatred and pleasure were friends. "FUCK... Oh, Jade, your beautiful pussy belongs only to your daddy." he was out of breath. He held it and suddenly released it as he inflated his chest with air, reaching the peaks of pleasure. The girl was no different. The floor of the table was shaking from her moans. Joel was almost ready to come. He started slapping the girl's ass cheeks. When he landed the first slap on her flesh, her muscles tensed. "You're a very special girl," he said then and slapped her other cheek again. Jade tensed her muscles again, but the pain and pleasure were buzzing in her ears.

Jade felt warm inside her. The sticky, warm fluid that wouldn’t fit inside her vagina and was struggling to come out with a squeaky sound. Her pupils had almost disappeared with pleasure. “Do you hear me,” Joel asked, leaning in close to her ear, “I’m pouring my cum into your womb, baby. Daddy’s gonna get you pregnant.” His moans mixed with hers as he came. He laced his fingers through hers and pinned her hands to the metal table, on either side of her head. Jade’s knuckles ached from the table floor. She came too. Right after Joel, but Joel couldn’t do anything except stamp his feet and bite his lower lip, his movements restricted, and he could do nothing but moan. He was too heavy, and she was crushing beneath him.

When Joel finally pulled out of her, the floor was soaked with her pleasure juices. The wetness on his penis glistened in the light coming from the window. The water running down Jade's legs made her feel cold because of the cold air circulating in the room. While she was resting on the table, Joel sat on the chair next to the table and watched Jade as she tried to control her breathing. He witnessed how she was making her perfect, young and firm body writhe with pleasure and was spiritually satisfied.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Ludos Imperiales 11

A/N: A little bit of wound-tending to make up for the wait of this chapter :)

Content Warnings: Blood and Gore, Gladiator Fights, Unnamed Character Death; Reader Tends to Rhys' wounds post fight (I know nothing about medical procedures, this is based off a Google search don't come for me)

Previous Chapter/ Masterlist

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Torchlights flicker in monstrous shapes across the rough stone walls, the path beyond ominously dark. The rattling of chains and distant sounds of wheezing coughs lead me forward as I pull the hood of my cloak a little lower.  

If I don’t find them down here, I think I might die anyway.

The bond is a bleeding thing in my chest, the tether echoing with agony that feels like it might just rend my soul from my flesh. I can’t breathe beyond the pain that pulses through me, that compels me to move faster in the dark. Danger is irrelevant. My mates need me. Nothing beyond that matters. 

The path curves to the left and slopes, loose rock crunching under my feet with every step. I’ve never been so aware of how loud my own footsteps are until now. 

Once the path levels out, it goes straight for what feels like miles, I keep a hand on the wall as I inch forward little by little, until another torch finally comes into view. It’s anchored above a door, the wood old and faded, the iron edges covered in rust. Beside it, on a stool that’s seen better days, sits a guard. Not a Praetorian, which is the only reason I know this reckless decision of mine will work. A Praetorian will give word back to my Father, but this male? He’s human, round enough that he’s using his stomach as a table to balance a plate piled with bread and grapes. Crumbs cling to the patchy stubble that rims his round face, eyes glassy. There’s at least four empty bottles around his sandaled feet. Not drunk enough to be asleep, but not awake enough to remember I was here.

I slide a bag of coins out of my belt and toss it at him as he registers my presence. “I was never here.”

He opens the bag, nods to himself and hands over the key to the door with a chuckle. “Or you could stay for the company, doll.”

I ignore him as I jam the key in the worn lock and force the door open. The fact that it doesn’t creak when it opens tells me I’m not the only one that’s been sneaking through these tunnels lately. 

I lock it behind me and slide the key into a pocket on the inside of my cloak. I don’t need anyone sneaking up behind me. 

The room I find myself in is leagues taller than the tunnels, the roof stretching high out of reach, supported by massive iron pillars. We’re far beneath the Pit floor, but the smell of rot and decay and damp earth assaults me as soon as I step in. 

There’s a door to the right, locked with a padlock, probably a way towards the Pit, but no Guards on this side. Why waste them when you know the occupants can’t fight their way out?

My heart clenches so tightly in my chest I almost can’t breathe.

The Orc crawls its way up the boulder, meaty hands grabbing for purchase on the lip of the rock, just missing Rhys’s shoulder. 

My mate’s movements are terrifyingly slow as he manages to roll onto his side, pushing Cassian’s shaking frame off his chest. 

Azriel is screaming beneath him, throwing rocks and debris, trying desperately to get himself airborne, but his wings aren’t strong enough. The membrane shutters and twitches and Azriel is a deep shade of green as he keeps flapping them harder and harder, managing to get up an inch or two before they give out. He hasn’t had enough time to heal!

The rocks make the Orc chuckle as it gets another hand on the lip of the rock and begins hauling himself over the edge. 

I can’t do anything but sit there uselessly, my heart in my throat, watching in terror as Rhys manages to sit up, face twisting in pain. Only desperation has him throwing a punch into the Orc’s good eye, but the blow lacks the muscle he needs to dislodge him, he has to throw them again and again until the monster slips an inch or so down the rock. 

Rhys manages to twist so he’s sitting on the edge, using his heels to kick at the Orc’s hands and keep him from climbing back up, but it’s not doing enough. Cassian can’t yet help him, any attempt to sit up has his whole body shaking, the twitching starting all over again with each and every moment. 

I watch as Azriel’s gaze sweeps over the arena, looking for any remaining weapons, anything he can use to his advantage. There’s nothing, everything that had been left on that floor is ash. His gaze sweeps to our booth, past Amarantha and my Father, before settling on me. Without the bond it is hard to be sure, but that look, the way his lips droop, the way his hazel eyes turn pleading, it feels an awful lot like an apology.

There aren’t enough words to describe the terror that lodges itself in my throat as his shadows dislodge from behind his back, writhing through the air like a living breathing thing. 

“You said the gorsian would keep them at bay!” The Emperor snarls at Amarantha. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him find a flaw in her and it would be an entirely more unsettling experience if Azriel’s shadows weren’t pulling the Orc from his perch!

The crowd is in an uproar, booing and hissing and throwing things into the arena in outrage. The amount of money the crowd will lose has to be astronomical. And while they may lose the money on a technicality, Azriel will still have cheated. 

It’s like a bad dream, watching the Orc’s arms pinwheel as the shadows drag him through the air towards the yawning chasm of lava below. 

The Gamemaker’s mage flails his hands frantically, trying to shift the floor around in time to keep the Game going. 

Half a dozen of those disks come shooting out the walls, all aimed in Azriel’s direction, the buzzing loud enough to be heard over the screaming of the crowd. 

The ground splinters beneath Azriel’s feet, and even as he jumps to safety, a single shadow peels away from the writhing mass around the Orc, arching towards the Mage like an airborne snake. 

“Az no!” Rhys screams. 

But the shadows and their master pay him no mind as the tendril snags the Mage around the throat and hurtles him down into his own lava!

The crowd suddenly goes deadly silent.

The ground stops shifting, the loss of magic making the pieces of rock floating around the air come crumbling down. Rhys manages to get an arm under Cassian’s shoulders and hauls him off their descending perch so they don’t get smashed as it tumbles, their fall so hard I can practically feel the impact in my teeth. 

They land at the same time Azriel’s shadows bring the Orc down into the rapidly disappearing lava, the creature’s massive bulk just barely hitting the magma before the rock closes over his head, effectively sealing him in a fiery tomb. It all happens so fast there’s not even time for the male to scream before he’s gone and the world finally stops moving. 

The tether in my chest is finally reachable, leading me through the twisting tunnels, past cages filled with grizzly, slumbering males. The stench of decay and infection gets stronger the deeper I go, fighting against the heavy press of booze and opioid smoke. Can’t have rebelling gladiators if they’re too drunk and high off their winnings to fight back. 

At least it’s late enough that my sneaking doesn’t alert too many people.  I’m sure this whole place has been in enough uproar as is.

“You fucking knew, didn’t you?” The Emperor snarls so loud I see Eris and Tamlin flinch in their seats.

I don’t let myself look at him, don’t fold in my shoulders and duck my head to try and make myself as small as possible. My attempts at playing the subservient little girl have failed me. Fainting like a weak-hearted child did nothing but piss him off. If we are to survive, we have to be smarter than this. 

I have to be smarter than this. 

So far, playing this Game by my Father’s rules has gotten us to this point. It has brought us nothing but pain and misery. 

I don’t want to play anymore. I want to win.

I told Azriel that I wouldn’t let anything come between us, and I meant it. Maybe that means it's time to do this another way. 

“Yes. I knew.”

The silence in the booth is deafening.

I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting every instinct I’ve ever had to run and hide. 

I am not weak. I am not helpless. I beat that Raven; I will beat its Master too. 

“I was curious,” I continue, drawing a deep breath to steady myself as I turn to face him. The playing field was never going to be level between us. He’s spent my entire life making sure that I would always be small and weak and too scared to move. “They seemed so eager for the opportunity I presented them. I wanted to know how far they would take it.”

“And yet you did not consult me on this?” The Emperor snarls, not buying it. 

“It needed to look real. I needed them to think I was vulnerable.”

“And what have they shown you?” The contempt in his voice is clear. 

Almost as clear as the confusion Eris is trying really hard to keep off his face. At least for now, he keeps his end of the bargain. 

“They’re trying to get close. See if they can use me. The Shadowsinger slipped up with the shadows one night. I told him I’d keep his secret in hopes of finding what else they’re hiding. It is a long game. One I need more time in, but I assure you, Father, it was never for ill intent. I am only acting on the good of the Empire. You can have the twins look into my head if you’d like confirmation.”

Maybe that’s too much of a lie, but I’ll find a way to use it to my advantage. Whatever I need to do to ensure my mates walk out of this; whatever roll becomes necessary for me to take on I will take it. 

He runs a hand over his mouth, thinking. If this had happened in the Senate Meeting during one of his episodes, I’d be dead already, but he’s in a good mood today, far clearer headed than he was then. It might save them. 

At least for today. 

The Emperor stands. It’s customary for him to give a judgment before a death, the crowd is waiting to see what he will do now that one happened before his intervention. 

“You truly expect me to believe that you’re capable of handling this sort of thing?”

I bite back the bile rising in my throat. There is only one way I get him onboard with this; only one way I ensure he doesn’t kill them right here and now. “Weakness must be purged from the Empire.” The words stick like tar in the back of my throat. “You told me that story every night as a child.”

He goes very, very still. Only he would know which story I’m referring to; I doubt he’d tell anyone else that the gods cursed him with a mate. 

“The Shadowsinger thinks he’s your mate?” 

I raise my chin, hoping he can’t see how hard it is for me to swallow, how hard it is to even get air down. He will not kill them for this. No, this is grounds for him to test me, to see if I can purge the supposed weakness he has always seen in me and rise to the occasion, or if he can finally get rid of me. 

It’s my last card. 

“They all do.”

Romulus swears beside me. I don’t look at him. Only at my Father, who suddenly looks a little green. He has to know what mates were considered before the Empire changed the story, has to know that legend says mates are to be equals. I’ve just put a giant fucking target right over my chest.

But I’ll take it. It means the arrows are pointed in my direction, instead of there’s.

“You can’t be serious,” Amarantha starts, but the Emperor raises a hand to silence her.

“This is a grave weakness, child.”

“And an advantage to your cause. Illyria doesn’t share your sentiment with mates. They think it can be used to turn me against you. With enough time, they’ll tell me everything, and I in turn, will report it back to you. This rebellion nonsense can finally be put to bed, and the Empire will have the peace it deserves.”

“And when the time comes, you will kill them, as your Emperor demands.”

Red tints my vision, even as I bow my head. “That has always been the plan, Father.”

He smooths his hands over his robes. “Then they live to see another day.”

I have to clench my hands in my skirts to try and hide the shudder of relief that rolls through my body. I’ve bought them another day. “Thank you, your Majesty.”

The Emperor turns to face the crowd, the Guard flanking him, just in case Azriel’s shadows decide they want to try and yank him out of the booth this time. Before he reaches the railing to address the crowd, he says to his Captain, “Instruct the Gamesmaker to bring out the posts. I want them flogged for their disobedience.”

My stomach pitches. No no no!

“I said they’d live. I didn’t say this behavior would go unpunished. We can’t have the other gladiators thinking they can cheat and get away with it.”

I find Rhys first, his cell cramped and dark, his body dumped onto the dust covered floor like he’s nothing, no better than an animal. I can see the rust covered chain tied to the wall, looped around a new collar. The Emperor made sure the gorsian was stronger this time around. The edge of it juts farther out, scratching back and forth across his shoulders with every wheeze of a breath he draws. The metal has to be scraping against the gashes carved into his bare back. 

There’s no more mirthroot in my system, I never went home to give Anise the chance, and without it, the bond becomes a roaring, living thing in my chest. Darkness leakes from my fingers, hissing as it slithers out my skin.

How could I let this happen?

It takes every ounce of self-control I possess, every bit of my Mother’s training to keep my powers from tearing the doors off their hinges. My hands shake as I slide the key through the lock and slip inside.

The iron door screams on rusted hinges as I open it, and Rhys groans as he tries to lift his head off the floor to see who’s coming for him. 

My heart might just bleed out my chest as I kneel beside him, gently running my hands through his hair, matted with sweat and blood. They’ll pay for this! Every last goddamn one of them.

“Shouldn’t… be here… Princess,” his voice is raw from screaming. There was no tuning out the sound of it as they tore through his flesh with a metal spiked flagrum over and over and over again. I hadn’t needed to pretend to be lighthearted, I’d grabbed a pale and vomited twice before they were done. Much to Amarantha’s glee and Eris’s evident pity. 

“I’m sorry.” This is all my fault! This is so much worse than the brand. I could blame Rhys for that one, but this? This one’s on me. I hadn’t done anything to stop it! “I’m sorry.”

Rhys rests his forehead on my knee and I can’t stop my hands from the frantic patterns I comb through his matted hair, trying in vain to soothe him. “You didn’t…” he grunts, trying to find a more comfortable position and blood falls freely from one of the deeper wounds that spans from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. “Didn’t make Az do that.”

The pack of supplies I’d brought with me feels inadequate at best, but the sight of fresh blood knocks some sense into me and I start grabbing gauze and some oils I’d found at a small market in the street. An old Elvish healer has said olive oil and honey would help keep out infection, I’d bought out every bottle she’d had.

“I should have done more.” My hands shake as I try to find the best place to hold the gauze to stop the bleeding. There isn’t a patch of undamaged skin, any pressure at all will be horrific. It takes a solid thirty seconds of reaching for one spot, then changing my mind and searching for another, before he mumbles out something that sounds like “above my hip, love”. I settle my hand as lightly as I can as directed and even then the noise he lets out sounds like a cat being stepped on. 

Tears drip down my cheeks, I have to turn my head to make sure they don’t accidentally land on his ruined flesh. “I’ll fix this. I’ll find a way to make this better.”

He draws a shaky breath beneath my hands. “How… are we alive?”

Figures he’d ask me that first.

I start at the spot he’d directed, dripping a bit of oil into the most shallow cuts to weigh my options here.

His whole body spasms like it had when he’d been electrocuted and I stop what I’m doing entirely. “Fuck!”

“Shit! Shit I’m sorry, the Elf said it would help.”

Through his teeth, Rhys hisses, “I’m sure she’s right but fuck me!” 

I just make everything worse in every department, don’t I?

“Um, you want to try the honey instead?” Thank the Mother I never had the notion to become a Healer, I would have been absolutely awful at it. 

“I’m not hungry.”

“For your back, Rhys.”

“Oh,” he chuckles softly, realizing the mistake, then immediately groans from the way it pulls on his back. “Either has got to be better than the salt water.”

The air leaves my lungs in a rush. Forget the long game, I’m burning this whole godsdamned Empire down tonight.

“Easy, Darling,” he coos, and our bond ripples with a warmth I don’t deserve. “Just talk me through it.”

I give myself a little shake to clear the red tinting my vision. They will all pay for this.

“Tell me what happened last night? Why couldn’t we feel you?”

“Anise drugged me,” I say and I can’t tell if he flinches because I’ve started again with the oil or if that’s in response to what I’ve said. “Some kind of faebane and mirthroot mixture. She said my Mother had it made in case… in case I ever lost control.”

In case I ever turned into my Father.

“Mother’s tits!” Still not sure if that’s in regard to the oil or the story. 

“I was trying to get to you, to tell you that…” the coughing of one of the males in the cell across me reminds me of the lack of privacy. “That I’d found something that might be useful, but you were already gone and she jabbed me in the back of the neck with a needle. She must have done it again this morning, I don’t remember anything until arriving at the Arena.”

His breathing is labored as I work, body tense beneath me. I should have brought mirthroot, as unpleasant as my own experience had been, it could have eased his pain.

“Guard came quick last night,” he says through his teeth. 

The last twenty-four hours had really gotten away from me, I swear on the Mother I’ll never let myself be that powerless again. 

“I’m sorry.” 

The oil makes the blood look like it’s flowing freely, once I’m satisfied that it's covered enough, I reach for the bandages. 

“Don’t,” he says gently. “They’ll know you were here.”

My chest constricts. How can I tell him what I've done? He was already so angry about the marriage contract, this might just break him, but if I tell him the truth, would it give me an opportunity to help him. I can explain it away to the Emperor in the morning, claim I was trying to strengthen their trust in me by pretending to betray him. 

“I won’t leave you down here like this.”

“It will only make it worse,” he insists. 

“Maybe not,” my voice betrays me, nothing more than a cracked whisper in the darkness of these awful dungeons.

The bond ripples with enough concern I can feel a faint hum on both Azriel and Cassian’s end. At least I know now that they are all conscious, and that the gorsian hasn’t removed our ability to feel each other like the faebane had.

Rhys’s own voice shakes and the pain I can hear in it makes me look away from him when he asks, “What did you do?”

When I don’t immediately answer, he tries to sit up, tries to turn and look at me and I have to pin his palms to the floor to keep him still. “Don’t do that!”

“Tell me you didn’t marry any of those pricks? Tell me you didn’t barter another piece of yourself away-”

He’s going to tear his back open beyond repair if he keeps trying to move like this. “I told him we’re mates.”

I might as well have sucked the air from the room! Rhys goes deathly still beneath me and I think I liked it better when he was yelling. 

I try not to worry my lip between my teeth. “My Father murdered his own mate because he believes mates are a weakness that must be purged. I needed him to think I was trying to do the same.”

He doesn’t say anything, the minutes stretching out between us as I start using a bit of the honey to stick the strips of bandages over his back. The quieter the cell becomes the more the tether betweens us howls in pain. Maybe I need to resign myself to the fact that I might have been right all along; maybe this was always meant to end with him hating me. 

“I can’t beat him at his game by just sitting there uselessly. It wasn’t working. I needed to try another way.” If he can’t get past this fine, I will not let myself regret my decisions. I can’t afford to. They have to work. I have to make them work.

It might break my heart beyond repair if he can’t find it in him to understand where I’m coming from, but I’ll take that pain over the agony of him being dead. If I hadn’t acted, he could be another body rotting on the Pit floor right now. I do not need his permission, nor will I sit here and hold my breath for his forgiveness. We have to be willing to adapt. I have been so stubbornly set in my ways for years; I won’t let the stubbornness that ruined my Father ruin me.

I’m finished with the bandages before he speaks again. “When we went to war with the Empire, I gave up a lot of myself to be what my people needed. I wore whatever mask was necessary. I have worn cruelty and hatred in equal measure. There were days, weeks, where I looked into the mirror and didn’t recognize who was staring back at me. I can’t… I can’t let you do the same thing to yourself.”

I let my fingers drift back through his matted hair. Nothing would make me happier than to take him home, to get him cleaned up and into a bed that was safe; into a place where I knew he could rest. One day I will give him that. One day there will be no more dungeons or bloodshed or torture. One day we won’t have to swap horror stories to comfort each other. I can hold him and he can hold me and there will be no more pain between us. There will not need to be a question about whether we can live with our decisions.

“I can live with my decisions,” I say. “Let me help you shoulder this burden. You do not have to be alone to carry it.”

“People die when I let them in,” he whispers.

I can’t hold him like I ought, not without hurting him, so I allow myself a moment to lay down on the floor next to him, the filth covering the old stones seeping through my skirts as I lean my forehead against his.

“The things I love have a tendency to be taken from me.”

The bond hums between us, warm and alight even in this darkness. We are one and the same, Rhys and I. “Me too,” I confess. “But I never did anything to stop it then. I won’t ever do that again.”

His breath stutters out of him, a twinge of fear slithering down the tether to me. “You’re sure I can’t convince you to take that boat you talked about?”

That boat is long gone. 

And so is that girl who was so scared she’d need it. 

I can do this. We can do this. “We can beat him. Together.”

He nods gently, like it’s too much effort to do anything more, it probably is. “Together.”

I feel a twinge of pain flash across my left hand, just a flash and then it’s gone. Almost like something bit me. In this cell, bugs are a given. I raise my hand to take a look, and am surprised to find a band of black ink around my ring finger, a trio of stars circling the thin band of what looks like a tattoo.

Even wounded, the smirk Rhy’s flashes me is infectious. “Illyrian bargains come with ink.”

“You’re impossible,” I say, rolling my eyes. He’s honestly worse than Az.

He manages to tilt his head just enough to kiss the tip of my nose, his lips cracked and dusted with dried blood still. “If you’re going to make life threatening statements to the Emperor, so am I.”

I won’t admit to him that I like it, not now anyway. “I should go check on the others.”

“What if there were other parts of me that needed tending to?” He pouts.

I stand and dust off my skirts, rolling my eyes again. “You’ll survive.”

I push the door to the cell open. “I’ll bring some mirthroot next time. So you can sleep.”

He waits until the door is locked again. “Be careful, Princess.”

I won’t lie and tell him I will. The time for being careful is over.

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

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[asapeveryday]

PICTURES -P.BUECKERS

Warnings: smut. Hello!

Summary: you love photography and she loves you. And has breathtaking ideas to show it.

Authors note: ik I haven’t written for p in a while :) here u go

“Yes, just like that.”

Taking pictures was more than just a job for you. Sure, you loved working as a photographer for Uconn’s women’s basketball. You relished in getting the perfect shot, the desperate expressions, the moments of strength or weakness. You loved the girls, and you loved your girlfriend.

Taking photos was an occupation, but also a hobby. Paige’s dorm was decorated with album covers and basketball players, but ever since she started seeing you it the walls were littered with Polaroids and printouts too.

You loved going into her room and reliving memories of you and her together. The Polaroid next to her tv was of when you two dressed up for a Halloween party. Everyone was going for sexy, but Paige had something different planned. It was a stupid costume, but you loved it.

Another Polaroid was the one near her bed; you and Paige hugging after a big win, blue confetti falling from the roof of the gymnasium and fans going wild in the background.

You liked to take new ones often, so here you were having Paige pose a bit.

Two of her smiling, one with her tongue out, a couple stupid poses.

“Paige hold your chain out.”

“I’m not doing that corny shit.” She rolls her eyes.

“C’mon…it’s funny!” You whine

“We have enough funny ones, I want sum of you.”

You pause for a moment. You’ve taken many pictures of Paige and other people had taken pictures of you two together, but she’s never taken any of you, just you, alone.

“I want a picture to put in the back of my phone case, jus lemme take a couple.” She says, getting up from her bed and holding her hand out for the Polaroid.

You reluctantly give it to her and switch places, you sitting on her bed and her standing in front of you.

When you took pictures of her there wasn’t too much of an angle because of your height, but with you sitting down and her 6-foot self standing up, the camera was fully pointed down at you. You were looking up to Paige in a way that felt compromising…almost dirty.

“Smile.” She says, and you do without hesitation.

Paige takes out the photo and shakes it. It turns out pretty good, despite the fact that you’re eyeing the camera in an unintentionally sultry way. Paige smiles at the photo and pockets it before leaning over to kiss you. You immediately lay back on to the bed, propped up by your elbows as she crawls on top of you.

You were infatuated with the feeling of being caged in by her. Paige was all legs and arms, toned muscles and confident movements. You couldn’t keep track of all the times you’d fantasized about the moments with her above you, lips entwined and eyelashes fluttering against each other.

She brings a hand to your face, but you pull away after hearing a shutter noise. With her other hand she’s still holding the camera, she took a photo while you were making out.

“Seriously?” You ask, trying to come off disinterested but secretly wanting to see how it turned out. The thought of a physical photo of you and Paige kissing was enough to make your stomach flip.

“Holy shit.” Paige mumbles, eyes glued to the Polaroid.

Holy shit is right. The photo is perfect. Your face is slightly covered by her hand and her face is slightly covered by her hair, but you can clearly tell what’s going on. It’s practically incriminating to have, and it’s turning you on.

Paige is looking at you with a twinkle in your eye that you recognize. “What?” You ask.

She thinks for a moment before saying “I have an idea.”

-

It was really a sight to behold, your legs spread, cunt sopping just above her face, your chest slightly heaving. The camera was slightly throwing you off, but all you could truly think about was making sure Paige was in the shot.

“You sure about this P?” You ask, voice wavering with anticipation.

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, a nervous habit that often drives you wild. “Never been more sure in my life.”

Before you can answer she lets her tongue circle at your clit, slowly at first, controlled and intentional. Paige wasn’t always vocal when receiving, but giving was another story. She loved how your legs would shake at the vibrations of her murmurs against your thighs.

Placing a wet kiss to your pussy, she fully latches onto you now, sucking your clit and looking up at you with the most pornographic look she can muster. The sounds of pictures being taken are easy to ignore when she’s whimpering and devouring you whole.

One hand leaves the camera to grip her head, running your fingers through her blonde hair. Looking through the camera was one thing in itself, watching her suckle your heat with no shame as Polaroid after Polaroid fell on the sheets beneath her.

“Fuck, oh my god.” You throws her head back, trying to quiet down by biting your lip. Paige’s response to this is to lap at your hole while one hand rubs circles on your clit. The extra stimulation brings a tense feeling to your core.

“What’re you gonna do with those photos?” She mumbles against into you. “You gonna use them when I’m not here to please you? Hm?”

The vibrations from her voice are driving you insane. “Shit,” your voice cracks. “Paige, oh, yes.”

Your response, the fact you’re even able to speak, is an act of defiance in her eyes. She spits on your cunt before upping the friction on your clit as she eats you out. “You can’t do shit.” Paige grumbles. “Your fingers can’t compare to me. You think you can fuck yourself better?”

You want to scream out no, because it’s the truth. Your hands couldn’t compare to her fingers, her mouth, to anything Paige had to offer. As much as you wanted to tell her this, the friction was becoming too much and you couldn’t get any words out.

It’s the best orgasm you’ve had in a while, and the best pictures you’ve ever taken in your life.

[ateez-himari]

CALVIN KLEIN; COUPLE SHOOT

Two barely clothed lovers under the spotlight

. . These things I’m thinking

. . The photographer seemed even more flustered than the couple as Mingi laid back against the couch's armrest with the jean jacket previously covering his body now discarded to the side, his girlfriend wearing only an open dress shirt over mere underwear slowly straddled his waist in a clearly experienced manner. With a glance towards their audience, the rapper settled his large hands on the vocalist's waist as she leaned down and slid her own onto his chest, their lips nearly brushing against each other, breaths lacing together while cameras shuttered around them to capture what appeared to be an intimate moment.

. . When you’re looking in my eyes

. . Mingi slowly spread jean covered legs only to let one dangle from the couch's edge as it could not seem to accommodate his large frame, guiding his girlfriend's barely covered pelvis to rest onto his own. When she tentatively rolled her hips in order to settle into a more comfortable position the rapper's teeth sank into his lower lip, the sharp inhale shaking his upper body muffling the groan this small amount of friction nearly elicited, sending a warning glare into Himari's not so innocent doe eyes. With an appeasing kiss to his neck the vocalist placed bare forearms onto his abdomen and rested her scantily clad chest atop them, resting her head in the crook of her boyfriend's shoulder.

. . And I can’t control

. . Twenty seven centimeters did not seem like much when spoken aloud yet as the young woman stood in front of her boyfriend, his presence seemed to completely overpower her own with the width of her shoulders barely even measuring up to his chest. The cropped top clinging to Himari's body only accentuated its delicate nature as a carefully manicured finger hooked itself underneath the waistband of the rapper's boxer briefs, the other hand gently pulling on the chain resting on his collarbones. Mingi decided to settle his own hand on her lower back, barely inches away from her backside, the other wrapping loosely around the base of her neck as they exchanged gazes attempting to suppress the lust slowly pooling in their minds.

. . The way you make me feel inside

. . The man hoisted his girlfriend's frame against the wall with almost nonexistent effort, hands resting so perfectly splayed across her rear while bare legs wrapped around his thin waist like they had done countless times in the privacy of their dorm. Forgetting about the cameras surrounding almost every inch of the set, the vocalist draped her arms over her boyfriend's shoulders and slowly slotted their lips together in a lingering kiss brought about by the intimacy of the moment, oblivious to the fact that this instance of pure affection was going to be printed onto countless magazines.

[lis-likes-fics]

It's Gonna Be a Scream!

Pairings: Stu Macher x Reader Word Count: 3.7 words Kink: Erotic Photos Warnings: NSFW, smut, erotic photography, swearing, fingering, oral (f and m! receiving), multilple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, sadistic and masochistic tendencies, creampie, praise kink, slight degradation kink... A/N: This is a day late but I got it done! I hope you enjoy and thank you so much! Feel free to add yourself onto the taglist for message me to be added! Link posted below.

You shake your head as another click fills the room. You ignore him and readjust your position in bed, laying on your belly with your papers splayed before you. Your boyfriend looks at you through his brand new camera, which you'd gotten him for Christmas. He's been prancing around you all day, taking all the pictures of you while he giggles and tells you to “smile all pretty for me”.

“Stu, baby,” you sigh when he lies down on his back in front of you, laying on top of your homework and effectively halting your studies. “I'm trying to focus.” You can't help the chuckle he pulls out of you when he flashes you an adorable grin.

He reaches underneath him and pulls out all of your work, glancing at it before tossing it into the air and letting it fall to the floor. You ignore it. “Well, you shouldn't be. It's Christmas, and you're sitting here doing homework. You're boring.” He says this as he gently pokes his finger into your shoulder, moving to hook his finger around the dainty golden chain of your new necklace. It was his gift to you, it had both your initials on a tiny little heart. It sat along your collarbone, cold and pleasant against your skin.

“Stu,” you try to complain. “Let me finish this last bit, and we can watch a movie or something. Whatever you want.”

He points his finger at your face, not moving when you lean forward and bite the tip of it gently. “Don't say that,” he laughs, “Or you'll be watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

You scoff, “Again? You'd think you would get tired of it by now.”

He flashes a wide smile, “Never, baby.”

You make a sound of disgust, shoving him out of your face so he rolls over onto the floor. He lets go of the camera to keep it on the bed as he lands with a thud.

“Ow,” he complains, sitting up on his knees and looking up at you from the floor. He leans forward, his lips pressing to yours as you smile and suck on his bottom lip. You giggle against his mouth when your teeth take his lip between them. He just kisses you back, a little rougher as he growls playfully against you—he's just being weird.

You hear the click again and pull back to see him taking a picture of you kissing. “You're insufferable.”

“Shh-t-t-t,” he smiles, kissing you again as he takes your face in his hands. You melt against his lips, your lips parted as his tongue slips between them. His hands press to your shoulders and he rolls you onto your back.

Shifting up, he stands above you as he continues to hold your face, his lips mashing with yours. He pulls away, grabbing his camera again. He aims the lens at you, and you roll your eyes, chuckling lightly.

“Smile for me, baby,” he grins, lining his shot.

With a sigh, you look at the camera and smile softly. He licks his lip, clicking the shutter button. “Make it sexier,” he says.

You scoff, parting your lips and letting your lashes flutter, your eyes hooded. He shakes his head in disbelief of you and your beauty, taking more pictures and requesting “sexier, sexier, sexier” each time.

“I don't know what you want me to do, Stu,” you say, removing one hand from the dip of your thigh and the other from your partially exposed collarbone.

“Well, you're doing perfectly,” he shrugs.

You shake your head, grabbing at his body until he ends over and kisses you again. His lips slide off yours and up to your neck, his teeth nibbling at the skin as his fingers play with your shirt. After a moment, he bares his teeth around your throat and bites down, just out the pure impulse to do so. You moan at the feeling tangling your fingers in his hair. He continues kissing you, laving his tongue hungrily over your flesh as he slowly pulls at your shirt. When he's got it off, he admires your covered breasts with his hands and your breath shudders at the feeling of it.

He doesn't bother trying to undo it from the back. He wraps his fingers around the bottom and pulls it over your head. His tongue traces down the valley of your chest and licks up to one of your nipples, taking it between his lips and flicking it.

“Stu,” you breathe, inhaling the scent of his cologne as he body leans over you.

He seems to be enjoying himself by the way he hums around your nipples, playing with one as he savors the other. You feel slick gathering between your thighs as you lay there, your fingertips brushing over his body.

His hand wanders from your breast and smooths down your tummy, down to the waistband of your tiny shorts, that he simply slips underneath as he presses his hand to your mound. Your hips pump forward slightly, a slight moan getting caught in your throat as he smiles around your nipple.

He separates from your breasts to get a good look at you, untying the strings around your waist and peeling the shorts off your body. Biting his lip at your lacey red panties, he shudders at the sight of them. After a brief pause, you hear his camera sound.

“Stu!” you exclaim, your words breathy with a laugh. You smack his sides, pinching them for more effectiveness.

He squirms, laughing, “Ow—Hey! I can't help it if you're so cute!”

“Ugh!”

He giggles like a child as he pulls down your panties to show your smooth little pussy. “Well, Merry Christmas to me.” He bites his lip. “Is this all for me?”Another camera shutter, you shudder. “God, you're fucking beautiful, baby.”

Your hips jerk when his fingers rub along the seam of you, collecting the arousal that had gathered there. You stifle a moan when you hear his lips smack softly after his fingers leave you. “You taste so good,” he hums, tracing your entrance again before pushing in. You hum as his fingers part your lips, starting out with two long slender fingers that already stretch you out real nice.

You moan his name, slipping your hands under his shirt, which drapes over your face as you feel his body leaning over your own. You lean forward just enough to kiss his lower belly, clenching around his fingers as they massage that part inside of you he knows drives you crazy.

He takes another picture, and you suck his fingers in with your insecurity. His thumb presses to your clit. You grip his waist a little tighter, pulling body down just enough to kiss his belly again.

After a moment, he breaks from you, standing back up to tower over you. You take his belt, keeping him closer as you start unbuckling it, effectively sidetracking him as you start pulling them down his legs.

He stares at you as he pulls the camera up to you. As his cock springs free and you press your lips to his pelvis, his warm length against your cheek. “Just like that, baby,” he smiles, a red light glowing from the camera as he records you. “Just like that.”

You wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping him a few times as he sighs, a bead of precum leaking from the slit as you bring his tip to your lips to lick it off. You lave your tongue against the head, sucking him into your mouth with a little hum.

He presses his hips forward slowly, the tip of his cock brushing against the back of your tongue and taunting your gag reflex. His hand squeezes your breast, smacking it lightly as you suckle around him.

He smooths his hand up your chest until it settles it around your throat, slowly pulling out to the tip before pushing back into your mouth until his balls press against your nose. You gag lightly as he slots into your throat, a huff leaving his chest as he feels himself bulging in your throat under his palm.

“Suck on it, sweetheart. There ya go,” he encourages, pulling out and pumping back in again. He builds a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of your throat as he slowly quickens his speed. But he doesn't do too much, saving himself as he enjoys the view of you taking his cock down your throat, the camera capturing every moment for him to relive the moment whenever he likes.

Your hand is settled between your thighs, fingers rubbing your clit. You gag sometimes when he does a little too deep, but you're so used to him by now that it's not a problem as you moan when you have breath to.

“Fuck,” he breathes, hard and hot at the feeling of your tight throat. “Good girl.”

When you suck around him, his hips jerk slightly before he's lingering somewhere in the back of your throat and pulling out. You take in a deep breath, placing a hand on his hip to keep him back.

“Beautiful, babe,” he praises, taking his cock in his hand and pumping it a few times before he squeezes the base with a groan.

You scoot yourself more onto the bed as you lay there, catching your breath as he pans the camera closer to your face. His smile is wider now, a sinister undertone to his as he captures your wet lips covered with precum and saliva, your lust blown eyes blinking away the tears on the sides of your face. “Absolutely beautiful.”

He ends the recording, leaning down to kiss your sloppy face before he rounds the bed to join you. He sits across from you, taking your hips in his hands, bending down to kiss your chest. His lips slide against your skin until he's reached your belly, his tongue licking at your slit before he wraps his mouth around you and starts licking into your pussy.

You grip the sheets, clenching your thighs lightly around his head. You lay your head back, your lashes fluttering as you breathe. His tongue plunges between your folds, licking into you as making you squirm.

You roll your head back, grinding your hips into his face. As you spit his camera on the bed, you take in between your hands and examine the equipment. “How do I do it?” you ask between breaths.

He looks up at you and smiles. “That button to record, that one to take a picture.”

Tentatively, you press the record button as you look at the feed it shows you. He smiles and digs back in, his tongue flicking and suckling at your clit. You moan as he does it. He's too good with his tongue.

After a moment, he thrusts two fingers into you and looks at you, your face blocked by the camera. “You like that?”

You nod, “Yeah.” His fingers brush deeply inside of you, and you whimper a little at the feeling.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he laughs. “Nasty slut.” He sticks his tongue out to his chin to lick a long stripe up your cunt, closing his mouth around you at the end of it. Your hips jerk as he hums his laugh against you.

He seems to thrive under the shot of the camera, his drama increasing to over-exaggerate the process, but you don't mind. You watch him, lust-stricken as you hold the camera up with shaky hands. His fingers pump into you, his tongue licks at you, his lips suck on your clit. Your back arches and your stifled moans become a little looser as your need to cum slowly builds within you, his mouth bringing it closer as he gives you a perfect view.

You reach one hand down to his hair, combing your fingers through it before you grip lightly at a particular pump of his fingers. Your lips part as your breath becomes unsteady. “Baby, fuck—I'm gonna cum.”

He hums, sing-songy as he keeps sucking on your clit, pressing his fingers deeper and curling them just right. "Please, I’m gonna cum, Stu."

He coaxes you closer and closer, playing you like an expert. A knot builds in the pit of your stomach and you tense as the impending release hangs over your head. When the coil snaps and you're overcome with the bliss it brings, you moan breathily and shudder. Stu smiles at the way you suck his fingers in. He continues fingering and licking at your pussy as you gush around him, easing you through your orgasm. You chant his name under your breath, riding out your high against his face with an insistence he adores.

“Good girl,” he eases you, slowly pulling his fingers out of your and admiring the result of his work. He stares directly into the lens as he places his fingers on his tongue and sucks.

You catch your breath as you come down from your high, lazily ending the video. He takes the camera from you, snapping pictures of your disheveled face as he pulls you by your hips onto his lap as you lay back.

His hands stroke the length of your sides, and you grab his wrists to stroke them. He smiles at you, standing on his knees and planting his fists into the bed next to your head. He kisses your lips softly and flips you onto your stomach. He grasps your hips roughly, pulling you up to your knees and pressing you back against him to feel his erection against your cheeks. You moan lightly, pressing your back and grinding your ass against him.

“Such a naughty girl,” he tsks, smacking your ass harshly and moaning at the sharp sound of his hand on your skin. “Be good for me, sweetheart.”

Stu pumps his cock in one hand, picking up his camera again as he pans the lens up and down the length of your back, the dip of your spine caressed by his fingers as he traces it. You shudder, holding yourself up carefully as you do.

He takes his cock, pressing his tip between your folds and pushing his hips into you, inch by inch as he fills you slowly to the brim with him. Your eyes flutter and you moan deeply as his thick, hot length thrusts inside.

Stu groans, grinding his own hips into you once he's fully seated inside, making sure he got every second of it on film. “You're so tight, sweetheart. Fucking perfect for me”

You let your head fall onto your crossed arms. Stu presses his hands to your back, holding you down as he pulls out to the tip, only to split you open once more on his cock. You let out a breathy moan, letting the pleasure blossom within you. You clench around him, sucking him in as he takes you from behind.

You whimper his name. He doesn't bother going slow on you. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you back up so he can fuck you nice and deep. He holds the camera as steady as he can as his hair travels to your neck, his fingers wrapping around your throat so he can move your hips to meet each thrust.

His rhythm is rough and fast. He snaps into you, your body bouncing with each in and out of his cock. Your clit throbs between your legs, and your arousal is dripping down your thighs with each thrust. “S-Stu,” you moan breathlessly. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“Yeah?” he asks, giving you a rougher thrust just to pull another moan out of you. “You like when I fuck you like this?” He laughs, tightening his hand around your throat. “Of course you do. You're a good little whore, aren't you?”

You just nod, appreciating his hand around your throat. It's tight and your breath is thinner going through to your lungs, but your clit throbs and your heart pounds relentlessly in your chest at the sensation.

Stu pans the camera down to your ass, where his cock disappears and reappears with each thrust. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You're fucking suckin’ me into you.”

He ruts into you, splitting you apart on his cock as he drives it in and out of your dripping cunt. He fills you with a mind-numbing pleasure that throws you in a daze as you take it all. You squeeze his cock as your legs tremble, sucking him in each deeper as the slap of his hips becomes louder with your slick building up.

All too quickly he pulls out. He pushes you onto your back with little regard to gentleness. You haven't caught up yet by the time he's pulling your hips closer and shoving his cock back inside.

You stare at the camera as he directs it at your face, fucked out as you moan so nicely for him. It captures your bouncing tits, the pumping of his cock into your tight pussy. Every nerve ending burns with pleasure. Every movement licks at you like the flickers of a fire. You clench around him as he presses himself deeply within you, moaning his name at the feeling of his hips fucking into yours.

Stu’s lips part as he watches you, his head falling back as he moans before looking back at you again, hungry at the sight of your body. He loves your body. Your skin is soft and malleable. He bets that if he pressed a silver blade to your flesh, it would slice so nicely. He'd watch the red slip from the wound and decorate your pretty skin.

He wouldn't hurt you too bad. No, against his better judgment, he loved you too much. And, besides, he's got you wrapped around his finger just as much as you've got him around yours.

By now you'd invite the pain. If he took a belt to your back, you would cum when he beat welts into your skin. If he put a knife to your throat, you'd bare your neck to him and tell him to do it. Even now, as his hands slots around your throat once more and squeezes, you huff a moan and squeeze around his cock.

“Look at the camera, baby,” he breathes, moving his thumb from your neck to give you air to speak. He doesn't stop, still fucking into you just as roughly. “Tell ‘em who you belong to.” You whimper. “Go on, tell him. Who's the only person who can make you feel this nice, babygirl?”

You reach a hand to his waist as he leans in to get a better view of your face. Stringing words together to create a coherent sentence, you speak, “Y-you. Fuck, only you, Stu.”

“Say it again, baby.”

His finger presses to your clit and you lose breath when it does, moaning a little louder as he massages it to coax you to a release. “F-Fuck. Only you can…make me f-feel so good, Stu.”

He smiles wide, rubbing your clit a little faster as a reward. “Good girl,” he praises. “You wanna cum for me?”

You nod desperately. “Yes! Fuck, yes.”

His grin widens, his thrusts getting sloppy as he gets closer and closer to his release. He curses under his breath, “Come on, babygirl. Cum for me.”

The coil snaps as you do, throwing your head back as you're blinded by the pleasure. “Stu!” you exclaim, moaning loudly as you cum, sucking him in with each flutter of your pussy.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he rambles, joining you as he's pushed over the edge of ecstasy. He cums with a loud groan, shoving his cock inside of you as he paints your walls white. You milk him, taking everything he gives to you as the pleasure builds inside of you like a heavy crescendo.

You trembled and moaned as he spills inside of you with a rough thrust deep inside you, tiny little ones following after to fuck his cum a little deeper. Stu leans forward and smacks his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he moans deeply. You wrap your heavy arms around his neck to keep him there, lazily kissing him with just as much passion, both of you forgetting the camera laying forgotten on the bed, the lens still pointed at your sloppy kiss.

You bite his bottom lip, taking it between your teeth and digging them inside until you draw blood. He swears he could've cum again as you keep kissing him, sucking on his lip as you do.

He grinds lazily inside of you as the last few sparks of pleasure dot your skin. Stu smiles against your lips, pulling back as he giggles. “I love you, sweetheart.”

You smile, his joy contagious as you join his little giggle. “I love you, too.” You kiss him again, addicted to the taste of him.

Pulling back again, he stares at your face and nods to himself. “I'm keeping you forever.”

And he will. Because ever since he fell in love with you, he's been shaping you to be like him. And, by the time September rolls around next year, you'll be just as fucked up as him that Billy will have to let him keep you. You'll be his forever, and you'll be perfectly happy with that because you love him just as much.

He pulls out of you with a sigh, and you whine at the empty feeling that sprouts in your belly. He picks up the camera again and makes sure to capture every inch of you: the light sheen of sweat on your skin, the mess of your hair, the wetness of your swollen lips, the hickeys he had worked into your skin, the swell of your breasts, the cum stuffed in your dripping pussy, his claim marked in you forever. He briefly wonders if he should carve his initials into your skin.

He smiles wide, pointing the camera at your face again. “We're gonna make so many movies together,” he prides, bending down to kiss you once more. With his excitement simmering in his chest, he chuckles quietly. “It's gonna be a scream, baby!”

Stu Macher taglist: @the-nerdy-goddess Tag yourself here...

[hearteyes4logan]

race day glow — lh⁴⁴ lewis hamilton x fem!reader requested by no one word count: 389 words! fluff

Image by @rarecure on Pinterest!

synopsis: on race day, lewish hamilton and his partner arrive hand in hand to the paddock, sharing quiet laughs and soft glances as cameras follow their every move

The sun wasn’t high yet, but the paddock was already buzzing — camera shutters clicking, crew radios crackling, fans pressed against the barricades, their voices rising in waves of cheers and chants.

And then there was you and Lewis.

Hand in hand, walking down the centre like you belonged there — because you did.

He wore his team gear, shades on, chain glinting under the collar. You were in something soft but structured — clean lines, sunglasses perched in your hair, credentials swinging around your neck as your fingers stayed laced with his.

You said something — small, only for him — and he laughed under his breath, squeezing your hand once before lifting it and kissing the back of it quickly, like instinct.

The cameras loved it.

He paused when the crowd surged near the fence — always does — and let go just long enough to sign a cap, then a flag, then a miniature car someone passed forward with shaking hands.

You stood to the side, smiling, watching the way he moved — like he had all the time in the world, even on race day. He thanked every person. Met every eye. You could feel how much it meant to them.

Someone called your name, and you looked up — not surprised, not startled. Just calm. Collected. You gave a quick wave, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as they snapped more photos, probably captioning them 'Lewis and his mystery girl' even though you weren’t much of a mystery anymore.

He came back to you, hand returning to yours like it had never left.

“Sorry.” he said, like he hadn’t just made ten people’s year.

You shook your head. “They love you.”

His lips twitched. “Not as much as I do you.”

You rolled your eyes — but the blush betrayed you.

Together, you continued down the paddock, all smiles and subtle touches, his thumb brushing your knuckles like a rhythm, your body just slightly leaned toward his — two people fully present, in love, and completely at home in the chaos.

And somewhere behind the lens, someone would say, “God, they look good together.”

But it wasn’t just how you looked. It was the way he reached for your hand like it was instinct.

And the way you never let it go.

© hearteyes4logan

[sayafics]

Dragon of Dorne - Chapter V

A/N:: GUESS WHO'S BACK!! Missed you guys so much, but here is the next chapter of many to come. I hope you enjoy xxxx

I apologise for the long wait, but I do hope this chapter is worth it. Don't be afraid to comment your thoughts, opinions, and any ideas you might have for future chapters!!

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

The sound of cutlery filled the room, the air was tense and soured with quiet breaths and flitting gazes.

It was sickening, stifling- suffocating.

Had Daemon not been dragged to join the Hightower litter by the grazing touches of the brown-eyed Targaryen and his mind full of unfounded whispers, perhaps he would have up and left without a second glance.

Instead, he found himself confined within Alicent's chambers, sat at a grand table with Alaynha to his left, and Aegon to his right.

When he arrived trailing behind the girl, watching as she fidgeted with her dress and her hands, he had greeted Ser Cole with a vicious grin when he gazed upon his face as he crossed into the room.

The knight stood at the far corner of the room, back straight and eyes trained ahead until his gaze caught Daemon's form. He had to hold back a sneer as he watched the rogue prince saunter in dressed in his leathers, treading at the edges of the princess' skirt with a leering gaze and predatory smile.

They sat now amongst Aemond, Aegon, Helaena, and the Hightower Queen herself. Alicent hadn't been surprised that Daemon had joined them, Aemond's warning had her prepared for the sight.

Still, sitting in front of the man had her hesitate with every shift upon her seat, every breath that escaped her, and every twitch that shuttered through her body in small sparks.

It wasn't uncomfortable, sitting under his heavy stare. It was simply unfamiliar.

So different from that day at the tourney.

She recognised the haunted look in his eye, saw the scars that circled his neck - the embers of a dragon no more.

How alike they were, she thought for a fleeting moment.

How troubled and damaged and chained.

It was Aegon who broke the silence. His words quietly slurred as his tongue was tainted with the taste of bitter ales - "I wish to take up the sword."

Alicent could not help but raise her brows, stunned at the proclamation, shoulders straightening as even Criston shifted in his place in his dark corner with a questioning gaze.

Aemond frowned from his place, these words so unbecoming of Aegon that he held his breath.

"And why would you wish such a thing, after all this time?" Alaynha raised a brow in amusement, her head peering around Daemon's form to watch Aegon with an inquisitive smile.

"Well, if anyone deserves to beat Aemond on the training grounds, I fear it is only fair if it was me," he enunciated his proclamation by chugging another glass of wine, his movements so clumsy the liquid spilt from the edges. But Aegon paid no mind, eyes shut as he savoured the bitter liquid running down his throat in rivulets.

Aemond murmured from his place, eyes narrowed despite the rest of his face remaining passive, "I have been learning the way of the sword since our days as boys, brother, whilst you still remain one. Do not fret, I am sure there are other areas you can excel at - perhaps some more fitting for the drunken princeling."

Aegon couldn't help his pout, huffing and puffing as his mind was clouded with the haze of ale, his stomach rolling and turning as he sat up straight.

"I can take up the sword. Our uncle will teach me."

The claim was daring, especially with Daemon sitting next to him, watching them trade lines as they saw fit. He was amused, but Aegon's words had him pause for a second.

Daemon was ready to refuse, to laugh in the boy's face and claim he would never be ready.

But then, finally - finally, Alicent had spoken.

"Perhaps, Aegon, Ser Cole would be more suited to help you with this interest, yes?"

Aegon bit his lip in thought, eyes flickering to the knight who took a step forward in a show of ascent.

Before Aegon could speak a word, a dark chuckle came from his left, and he turned to meet the sparkling eyes of a violent hue as Daemon ran his gaze over the knight who stepped up with such ease.

"After all," Alicent continued, her gaze hesitantly flitting between Daemon and Aegon, wondering how sore of a spot her next words would hit and what repercussions her Shield should be wary of in the days to come, "Ser Cole is the Commander of the City Watch."

Ah, Daemon thought, his mind reeling with vitriol as something deep within his core sparked to life.

So it was Ser Criston Cole who had taken control of his men. It was Cole who had been passed his title, Cole who commandeered the men he reared into a disfigured version of himself.

It was pathetic, really, to learn a man of such low standing, a man who was not even an ounce of Targaryen, had taken that position from him.

It was pathetic. An insult. To his name, to his title, to his lineage.

"Fear not," Daemon's gaze was passive, his stare blank despite the gears that had begun to wind in the confines of his mind, "the boy would do better under my guide. After all, it is my army that forms the City Watch, isn't that right, Ser Crispin?"

The words were deliberate, of course. An homage to that very day where Daemon had shown just how far his men would go for him, and how quickly they would return to him should he try.

"It is Ser Criston Cole, my prince. And if that is what you wish, I shall not intervene."

He could see how much it pained the knight to step back and allow Daemon to take the opportunity presented to him by the Queen.

Daemon stiffened as a warm hand fell upon his leg, eyes darting down to find the nimble fingers of the source to his curiosity. She squeezed his leg lightly, as though warning him to behave before removing her hand altogether and pretending as though she had not misstepped.

Daemon swallowed harshly, his throat dry despite the copious amounts of wine he had sipped throughout the supper. He cleared his throat, voice dropping down an octave as he re-worded his intentions, remaining unsure of why with every new word spoken.

"I will train the boy. A prince must know how to defend himself, and a dragon should know how to survive upon a battlefield."

Aegon let out a shout of victory, eyes glazed with an inebriated sheen as he settled down in his seat and dug into his food with vigour.

Alicent watched her boy's eyes shine in a light so different to the one which soiled the colour of his eyes for so long, and found herself unable to protest her son's request and Daemon's agreeance.

It seemed Aemond had found his own form of accord in Alicent's silence, watching as Cole bit his tongue and wholly slinked back to his corner.

Alaynha took that as a sign to finally intervene and break the silence once more, "so, uncle," Daemon's eyes sought her own with practiced ease, "Kepa had once told me the story of your time on the Step Stones. But what I would truly like to hear is how you gained the title of the Rogue Prince."

Daemon could see the desire in her eyes to know more, to hear his words and seek his tales and learn of his ventures. It was a rarity, to have someone search for the truths of his adventures.

He could not help how he spoke with such ease, his voice dropping into a sombre cadence as he spoke with reverence of his past with pride colouring his features, and the blood of phantoms covering him limb to limb.

Throughout it all, it did not go unnoticed by Alicent how Alaynha stared at him with glistening eyes and a soft smile, nor how Daemon searched for her gaze after every tale and glanced to her before every answer.

Such a sight brought a sinking feeling in her gut, as though the Seven were upon her, begging her to put a stop to it.

But this was perhaps the closest to normal she had seen her children be near.

Alicent wonders if she would have been better off if she had found a way to wed Daemon instead. If her children would have had a better father and she, a better husband. She cursed her thoughts, blaming no one but herself and, perhaps out of childhood animosity she should have long grown out of, she also blamed Rhaenyra.

***

Ever since that evening he had spent with the Hightower bastards, it did not take long for Daemon to start testing his boundaries.

It had started with the dinners, finding an excuse wherever he could to bump into the young girl just as she was making her way to Alicent and her brothers and sister, knowing she was too kind to let him leave with the knowledge that he would only eat alone in the quiet of his chambers.

He was content in the small routine they had made, ignorant to the setting sun of each day that counted down the days until Rhaenyra's return.

The boys had caught the Sea Sickness, and she was struggling with the guilt of a mother to leave them be. She would stay until they recovered, and he had never felt so free.

Free to roam and stretch and cause mischief.

She had asked for his return home, of course.

And perhaps if it had been his children who coughed and wailed and begged for his return, he would have mounted his dragon in a heartbeat.

But these were Rhaenyra's children. And though he cared for them as he did her, they were another nail pinning him down to the grounds, forced to live a mundane life.

He was a prince. A soldier. A warrior.

He knew no peace not quiet. He knew no tranquillity.

No, Daemon was made from fire, and he would die by it, too. And a life by Rhaenyra's side simply prohibited such a thing.

***

Daemon had come to enjoy his time at the Keep. The green emblems scattered across the walls and the signs of the Seven hung proudly at every corner soon became familiar.

It was an uncomfortable realisation, one that made him wish he could tear them all down and replace the Keep to its former glory. But then he would watch the Green Princess, the youngest of the lot, trail down corridors and race through halls with arms piled heavy in books of history and parchments of intricate designs and maps and secrets, and he found that the Keep was not a symbol of something different, but a reflection of the young woman who had consumed his mind - she was present in his thoughts at every turn, catching his gaze with every glance.

She haunted him the same way the new embellishments of the Keep did, and he found he could not hate one when his mind craved the other.

Yes, his mind.

It was curiosity.

It was simple loneliness that made it grow and fester and become something... tempting. But it truly was curiosity. Or it had started as such.

Perhaps it was why he found himself in such a precarious situation.

He had done something such as this before - it was daring, likely the closest he had ever gotten to scratching that relentless itch of something more.

He wandered the rows of books with quiet disinterest, eyes flickering to the darkening sky outside the windows and then the doors that opened to a quiet hallway. It was well past evening supper, and for once he had not joined the Hightowers. Instead, he roamed the library walls, hoping- praying to catch the girl on her own once more.

He had done so once before by chance, only a mere few days ago. He spoke to her with mischievous eyes, a rasped voice, and a mind made hazy with wine. It had been reckless and stupid, but had she not realised his state of being perhaps he would've succeeded in his mindless plans.

But this time, he was prepared. He didn't want much, no. Simply companionship.

Rhaenyra was still upon Dragonstone, and though she planned to return before the next moon, he grew restless in her absence, as though the dragon in him had awoken from a trance and was coming to life once more.

It was because Rhaenyra was not here, he justified. And he simply wanted companionship. Companionship of the mind, someone to share his thoughts with, someone to pour out endless streams of unspoken whispers and mindless words to. And who better than the gentle-eyed princess who seemed to hold no prejudice against him.

Why the one-eyed prince who would only want to spar and spew hate-filled mocks? Why the drunkard prince who would fill Daemon's time with whores and wine and petulant cries? Why the dazed princess who could never tell her dreams apart from her conscious thoughts?

Why not the girl who was quiet and timid? Who grew a burning fire deep within her soul? Who rode a dragon and drew a sword and laughed and read and spoke his mother-tongue in pretty lilts.

Yes, she would do.

She would do until Rhaenyra returned, and then his infatuation would dwindle. And perhaps he would return to the passive and plain dragon he had become over tireless years, where the days he had at Alaynha's side would be freedom enough.

It was why, when the doors parted with a quiet creek and a quaint figure stepped into the darkness with cautious steps, he slipped into the shadows to follow. Waiting with twitching fingers and trembling breaths for her to turn and jump in fright so he could step into the streams of moonlight to greet her with a proud smirk and bright violet eyes.

"Daemon..."

Her voice trailed off as a whisper, eyes fluttering as they glanced between his own amused ones with confusion as she held a book tight against her chest, trying to calm her hammering heart.

"Princess."

The title slipped off his tongue in a rasped confession, head dipping slightly as though it was secret to be held between them.

She swallowed, her throat dry as her face heated a growing shade of pink under his gaze, and she could only hope it was dark enough to hide the signs of her traitorous body as the blush spread down her neck under his intense stare.

"What are you doing here?"

She couldn't help but narrow her eyes at him, knowing very well the only time Daemon had come to the library before was because he had let his wines and ales get the better of him. Yet it seemed this time was different - his violet eyes clear and his stance steady as he stood straight with his hands behind his back and a stifled, leering smile stretched upon his lips.

Daemon let out a short breath of laughter, head dipping to the side as his smile grew sharper, "if I did not know better, I would say you were trying to get rid of me?"

"And do you know better?"

There was a challenge in her eyes, as though she was remembering that evening she tended to his wounds after his bout of sparring with her brother, where Daemon grabbed her with desperate hands and a weakening resolve that struggled to stop him from begging.

Daemon's fascination was hard to dismiss and impossible to play ignorance to, especially when her own mother had grown so concerned she had outright asked if Alaynha was having an affair with her uncle.

She had grown flustered at the question, heat rushing through her body as shock made her protests stilted and hesitant. But it wasn't true. She had pushed and pled until her mother accepted with a suspicious frown.

Still, she could not hide how she preened under his attention, even from herself. Couldn't help the ghost of a smile that played upon her lips as she reminisced upon her day with Daemon following her like an ever-present shadow as her handmaidens prepared her for bed. Couldn't help but wish to find him hidden in every corner and shadowed space, waiting as though he was preying on her.

Daemon hummed, brows raising as he assessed her form in a manner much too heavy to have been humorous.

"It seems I do not, ñuha perzys ōños."

Alaynha could not help but twist her head at the words, tossing them around in her mind as she wondered why she could feel her heart thudding against her chest and pushing up against her throat as her skin heated once more, now the gentle warmth of a burning fire.

Firelight, he had called her.

His firelight.

What did such a term even mean? Was it the innocent endearment of an estranged uncle and his blossoming niece? Or the wiles of a man so hungry and full of greed, he would feed upon the closest being under the guise of pretty words and false promises.

Or perhaps-

"But I believe the only way we can find the answer to your question with true certainty is if I were to spend more time by your side."

Oh.

She stared at him, unable to help the way her eyes widened at his words and the realisation of the impropriety of their situation grew more apparent.

"What do you think, Princess?"

The title was a challenge and a temptation all in one. A test to see if she would break through the boundary he had been chipping away from the first night he had come to King's Landing and danced with her held in his arms. The night they shared a wound and hid similar scars they refused to acknowledge.

But it was also a temptation- a promise of the wonders she could see at his side. An insight to his mind, to his thoughts and his world.

Did she want it though?

Alaynha stared at the man with a contemplative gaze, the hum of her dragon seeping through the cracks of the wall as it soared across the light of the moon, only for another shadow to cross its path with a chittering roar so familiar she couldn't dismiss the way Daemon's eyes lit up as his gaze flickered to the window to see his dragon chase hers in a playful bout.

Yet, this man was her sister's. He belonged to Rhaenyra, and she already hated Alaynha enough. She knew Rhaenyra planned to return to the Keep soon, with her children in her stead.

What humiliation would the woman face knowing her faithful husband has been preying upon her youngest sister in her absence? What anger would she revolt with when she learned of Daemon's infatuation? What fury would she unleash knowing Alaynha had never tried to stop him?

She wished her mother was present in that moment - her true mother. Her mother who had been a sister-wife and loved a man who was unworthy of such devotion. Her mother who left a mark on her heart and a crack in her soul that could never be mended. And she wondered what her mother would say, wondered how her mother had overcome her own trials and loved a man like Viserys.

Alaynha loved Viserys with all her heart, loved his adoration and his kindness and his loyalty. But she was not blind to his favouritism, and she was sure she would have experienced his dismissal just as her brothers and sister have if it had not been for the love he held for her mother, and the resemblance he was admant she held to his wives.

It had felt like an eon had passed, and when the world came into focus, a violent shade of violet eyes bore patiently into her own. She glanced between the pair, as though seeking the answers to all her worries and all her doubts in the endless void of his gaze.

Grey Ghost danced in the embrace of the moonlight, Caraxes trying to mimic every manoeuvre in an attempt to stay close. Their shadows littered the walls and floor of the library from their place in the sky.

Alaynha huffed, "fine. You can start by helping to carry my books."

Daemon raised his brows, although she was not sure if it was because he was surprised she had agreed or because she had expected him to to help her with such a menial task.

"If the job is too difficult for you," Alaynha rolled her eyes at him in irritation, "or beneath you, you are more than welcome to return to your chambers and never learn of me again."

They stared at each other for a moment, a few breaths passing between them before Daemon gave in so easily and pulled the book from her grasp. Alaynha tried to ignore the way her breath stuttered and her fingers tingled as he placed his hand atop her own.

His fingers slipped between the gaps of her own, wrapping around the edge of the book she held so close to her chest that Daemon could not help but watch as her breaths grew shallow at his touch, hiding his smirk at the sight of her chest rising and falling under the sheer material of her white gown.

His fingers tightened around the book, pulling it into his hands as he ground his teeth at the sensual images that began to burrow in his mind as he wondered how soft the flesh beneath her shift would feel against his palm in contrast to the book he currently held.

Alaynha cleared her throat softly, turning away from the dazed man whilst wrapping her robe over her body tighter - a poor attempt to conceal the guilt that oozed from her pores as she scolded herself for enjoying his attention.

She strolled through the library, her steps losing their grace as she stole glances over her shoulders with every twist and turn down the long and seamlessly organised rows of bookcases.

Daemon followed her like a shadow, taking ten steps forward for every five she would make, in hopes of being stuck upon her like a leech.

The minutes whispered by as Alaynha browsed the shelves with a thoughtful expression, her fingers running gently over the spine of a set of books she took interest in, only to pull out one and add it to the ever-growing pile accumulating in Daemon's arms.

Daemon did not complain, he barely spoke. She could feel his eyes upon her with every breath, as though he was sure she would fade into the darkness that shrouded the corners of the room.

It was not until she had selected the final book she would add to her collection, spinning on her heels to make her way to the door in a blatant show she was finally finished, that Daemon spoke.

"'The Wiles of Taming a Wild Dragon', hm?"

She could hear the amusement in his voice, could sense the way his shoulders shook as he chuckled under his breath. She felt her cheeks in shame, afraid he would no longer see her as a true dragon-rider should she have to rely on books and research in order to learn how best to care for her dragon, or obtain more.

"I thought Viserys had rid his collection of the book many years ago."

Alaynha paused in her ventures to turn and face him, brows furrowed in confusion as she watched Daemon stumble to a stop as his grip tightened around the teetering tower of books.

"Why would Father rid his library of the book?"

Daemon grinned, but something about it was different to all the other times he had allowed a smile to grace his face and tug upon his lips. This was a smile of reminiscence, a childish grin he was unable to stop, try as he might.

Daemon had owned the book when he was younger, reading it cover to cover and memorising every word. He had used it to bond with Caraxes and take a dragon of his own, yet when Viserys had found out he had been mocked and scoffed upon for using words to tame a dragon.

Daemon was never one to accept defeat nor humiliation. The boy would follow his brother's every step on the training grounds, mimic his every move in the sky, reciting the God-awful limericks that riddled the pages of his favourite book.

Looking back now, he could see how the book had made no sense, how it twisted vague words in hopes that its reader was desperate enough to find their own meaning through their tired consciousness.

It had seemed Daemon was.

It did not take long until Viserys grew tired of Daemon's advice when it came to rearing a dragon - garbled words strung together in a semblance of a song that grated at the older boy until he stole the book from Daemon and announced to all he had burned it.

Daemon had decided at that moment he would take sleep from his brother too, reciting all the lyrical intstructions he had memorised in the secret tunnels of the Keep just beside the opening into Viserys chambers, who wondered with incredulity how his brother's spirit had found him when he was still alive.

Daemon hadn't stopped for weeks, not until his mother had sat him down and scolded him for ridding Viserys of a good night's sleep.

That would teach him to steal from me, he had said.

Alaynha snorted at the proud confession, amusement colouring her eyes as she shook her head good-naturedly at Daemon's dramatic re-telling.

He walked beside her now, balancing the stack of books with ease as they stumbled through the dimly-lit corridors whispering of tales and memories they held far from most.

She held the book he spoke of in her hands, holding it tight to her chest as though Daemon's memory of it would sear itself into her skin. Truthfully, she had never heard much stories of her father - in all the time she had known him, he had always been sickly.

A gasp away from death.

She held back her laughter, shoulders trembling with the peels of giggles she knew would wake King's Landing as Daemon continued to reel and spin any tale he could remember of his brother in his youth, when he was healthy and joyous and... coherent.

She hadn't realised they had made it to her chambers until they were about to pass it all together. Her hesitation had Daemon stop in her stead, eyes roving over the chamber doors before spinning around the corridor before them.

Empty.

No knights. No soldiers. No men to be seen.

"Where are your guards? It is not safe for a princess to be alone at night?"

Daemon wasn't sure if he should be furious on her behalf or not. One side of him was grateful there were no pliable eyes nor ears to surely report back to Hightower and Cole. The other was angered at the sight that the princess was left unprotected.

"Oh, it is quite normal, Daemon."

There it was again, his name rolling past her sweet lips.

"I usually stay in the library quite late, since I usually cannot bring all these books back with me myself. It is on my commands the guards take their position much later in the night."

"You choose to stay out without protection? Are you truly that foolish, girl?"

Daemon's eyes narrowed as he met her gaze, incredulity filling his voice. Did she not realise the position she held? The power she had? All of which could be stolen and held against her should she be caught vulnerable by some curious lord or lustful soldier.

Alaynha scoffed, eyes rolling as she finally pushed open the doors to her chambers and entered without peering behind, "if you wish to simply mock me, you may place my books upon the table and take your leave."

Daemon does as he is commanded, lips twitching in irritation as he struggles with what he should say next.

"I believe I will wait here."

Alaynha turns to him sharply, a short laugh escaping her as she watched his determined expression, "and what has you think I would allow such a thing?"

"You have no guards. Although Crispin may be the Commander of the City Watch, it seems the man cannot even protect the princess, so why should I trust either him or his men."

"Oh, and what? You think you will be enough to protect me from the harrowed men and vile humans who walk amongst the Keep?"

Daemon didn't feign a reply, closing the chamber doors before making his way to the chaise and sitting upon it, snatching a book from the table in front of him to hold up in a facade of reading.

"Do not ignore me."

He simply huffed, fingers running down each page slowly in a show of interest before flipping to the next.

"Daemon," she rounded the chaise, leaning down to catch his eyes - her breath caught in her throat as a vibrant shade of violet burned through her own, like something had come to life within him and it rumbled and roared to be free.

"Uncle, you must leave."

Daemon tutted at the word, "come sit with me, niece."

"If anyone was to see you here in my chambers, it would cause an uproar throughout the Keep. My sister's husband. Please."

"You are left unprotected. No guards or knights posted at your door, I would be doing my brother a disservice by leaving you," his voice was monotonous, but she could see the traces of a smirk aching to stretch across his face.

This was a game to Daemon, nothing more.

But a game was something she could handle.

She sighed through her noise, grumbling under her breath and agreed to his motioning.

She moved to the chaise closest to the fire, gritting her teeth as she began to take a seat. It was then Daemon decided to open his damned mouth again, and Alaynha almost swore upon the Seven to find something to keep his mouth shut forever.

But a small part of her, a mangled beast of naivety and curiosity, knew she craved to hear his voice and even death would not stop her from seeking it out.

"Bring me some wine, will you, niece?"

She sat down with a huff, hands upon her lap as she clenched the soft material of her shift in fists - "have your arms fallen off that you find yourself incapable of serving yourself, uncle?"

She enunciated the word, a harsh drawl accompanied by narrowed eyes and a twitching nose as she watched him in irritation.

First he seeks her out in the library, which she allows.

Then he follows her around, which she encouraged.

But to enter her chambers and refuse to leave under his petty guise of protection was foolish, and though her heart may have fluttered at his refusal to her demands to leave her be, her irritation brewed with every command he spoke.

Daemon looks up from his book, brows raised as though he was waiting for her to follow his orders despite the rebuttal. Alaynha simply stares at him, mirroring his gaze in challenge.

Daemon rolls his eyes, tossing the book beside him as he scoffs and throws up his hands, "fine, dear niece, I accept defeat. Oh, how you have wounded your uncle."

He continued his dramatic mutterings as he sauntered his way over to the table as Alaynha eyes the book he had tossed aside. She bit her lip in quiet contemplation, leaving her seat to steal his previous one and snatch up the book to flick through.

"The Toils of a Maiden."

Her cheeks burned at the realisation of exactly which of her books Daemon had taken to entertain himself with - it was a romance novel, narrating the charming love that stirred between a young princess and her knight.

She flicked through the pages, eyes skimming over words she had read a hundred times before. Her concentration was broken when a goblet made its way in front of her, her eyes following the pale hand that held it carelessly above the book she had been feverishly reading to meet the amused expression of Daemon once more.

"A very interesting selection, princess. Both the wine and the book," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes, snatching the spiced wine from his grasp and finishing it in one swift gulp. Hopefully, the wine would make the rogue prince's presence more tolerable, or she would be too out of her mind to give him a second thought.

"Although, I do not understand why you would waste your time on silly novels."

Alaynha frowned, placing her goblet on the table beside her, "I fear what I read is no concern of yours."

Daemon sat beside her, arm brushing against her own with every breath, causing a flutter to brew in the pit of her stomach which was so foreign and new that she almost found it hard to meet his gaze.

"If I did not know better, then I would say you read such horrid tales in hopes of bedding your own knight."

Alaynha scoffed in disbelief, yet the small amount of wine she had consumed worked up her courage quickly as she retorted, "and if I do?"

"Then I would warn you to stay away from Ser Cole."

Alaynha almost laughed in disbelief and if she herself had not heard the stories of Daemon's ventures to gain Rhaenyra's hand in marriage, she would surely jest jealousy tainted his words.

There was a dark glint in his eyes, one that grew with the flames rolling in the fireplace, that had her think perhaps she was right.

Alaynha's lips parted as she went to disclose her incredulity at his words, but they caught in her throat at the sound of knocking upon her door. Her eyes widened as they met Daemon's stare, expecting to see the same dread in his expression that flooded her own - instead, it seemed he was amused, almost on the edge of his seat in anticipation of what would happen were they to enter and see the young princess unchaperoned with the Green's greatest threat.

He pointed his head towards the door, lips twitching into a smirk as he urged her to answer the knocks.

Alaynha did so hesitantly, her voice cracking as she spoke, "who is it?"

"It is your guards, princess. Ser Cole has sent us to take watch for the night."

She swallowed roughly, eyes flickering over Daemon's form as she wondered how he would escape unseen, "of course, thank you."

She could hear the men shift in their heavy armour as they took their position in front of her chambers, her shoulders tensing as Daemon leaned closer and his warm breath brushed across her cheek, the feeling heating her up far quicker than the fireplace ever had.

He tutted, "it seems I cannot escape just yet. We would not want you to be caught in a scandal, now would be princess?"

"You have to leave. If they find you in here, I will be ruined."

She stared at him with pleading eyes and pouted lips, and Daemon had to admit a part of him almost felt guilt for placing her into such a predicament.

The other part raised a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb dragging down the soft curve of her cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed reluctantly, "I think I shall stay."

Her eyes opened to meet his, something quiet and dark bubbling under the surface as though she watched him in a different light altogether. She rolled her eyes, pulling her face away from his grasp and twisting on her seat to face the broiling flames. She pulled her knees towards her chest, ignoring the man as she took to reading the book he had been so amused by, "have it your way, but do not expect me to entertain your mischief, Daemon."

Daemon.

How he wished he could make her say his name again and again, the word slipping off her tongue until he tired of it. Daemon pondered how long it would take for his fascination to dwindle, for him to become bored and content as the slumbered dragon he had become so easily under Laena's and Rhaenyra's thumb.

He wondered if he would ever get bored at all.

Perhaps he would, but a contrite shred of his soul - a spark that had become ignited, a flicker that yearned to turn into the raging flame of dragon's breath - knew he would not.

It seemed Alaynha's obvious show that she had been ignoring Daemon went unnoticed, his mind reeling with ways he could sate his curiosity and knowing it would only be if he could get closer- closer and closer until there was barely enough room left between them to breath, until they melded as one like Valyrian steel forged by dragon fire. An ultimate seal, a sign by the Sevens and whoever else the kingdom swore fealty to.

He whispered across the space between them, his voice hushed and his words buzzing as his head lolled towards her, "you should join us on the training grounds tomorrow."

"Oh?"

"Aegon, though enthusiastic, is troublesome to train. You however," his gaze turns towards the fire, his body slouched upon the chaise as his head rested against the edge, his tongue suddenly heavy as he imagined her sparring against him, the sweat upon her brow, her small grunts of effort, the vicious gleam in her eyes, her skill and her anger, "you have promise. I can teach you better than any man upon King's Landing."

She couldn't help the way her mind filled with intrigue, placing her book to the side as she turned and faced him. Her knees knocked against his thigh, and he could feel her warm flesh press into him, burn through him as she watched him with curious eyes - "and what is it you believe you can teach me that both Aemond and Criston have failed to?"

"You forget, ñuha perzys ōños, how it is I became King of the Narrow Sea."

"I remember perfectly fine, but I also know that Criston saw war just as you have and he is Commander of the City Watch."

A flare of anger finds Daemon at those words, he only scoffs in reply, lips stretching out into an imitation of a laugh as his words grow hushed despite him bitterness so as not to alert the guards outside. His hand reached towards Alaynha, his thumb brushing over her thumb before wrapping around her throat and tugging her closer so she hovered over him.

Alaynha gasped sharply, Daemon's hand squeezing her throat lightly in warning so she didn't squeal and whine under his grasp. Her hands reached forward, bracing herself on his shoulders as he tugged her onto his lap, her knees falling on either side of his thighs as she hovered above him.

Daemon's eyes fell shut at the sight of her face above his own, her wide eyes and the shallow breaths that escaped her. Her hair fell in a halo around them, a barrier from the outside world. He tugged her closer, his forehead pressing against her own.

Alaynha couldn't help the way her body relaxed under his touch, her eyes fluttering shut as a shaky breath escaped her, her hands drifting down from his shoulders to his chest and her thighs pressed flush against his own as she sat upon his lap causing her shift to be drawn up and bunched at her waist.

"You forget yourself, Alaynha," his words were gruff, and the sound of her name finally- finally slipping past his lips, like the very word tainted the air between them, had her swallow roughly. Daemon's eyes opening wide as his eyes flashed with something unseemly and violent at the feeling.

"You forget that I am the Rogue Prince. That I was the Commander of the City Watch, and the very Gold Cloaks Cole commands as his own are mine. That unlike Cole, I am a dragon-rider. A prince. I have conquered a dragon. That the Narrow Sea is mine. That y-" Daemon caught his tongue before he could forget himself, his skin burning as he fought for control, a battle he was quickly losing as the sight and feel of the princess against him was a war of its own.

"I can have anything I want, ñuha perzys ōños- do anything I wish."

Every breath she took felt heavy, her chest heaving as something hot washed over her, a foreign sensation that was ready to consume her if she did not control herself.

"Then why don't you?"

She wasn't sure what she meant by such words, or perhaps she was. Perhaps she wanted Daemon to hold her, to run his hands over her body and into her hair, she wanted Daemon to groan her name and call to her, call for her.

In that moment, Alaynha did not think of her sister Rhaenyra, nor the fact that Daemon was a married man. Her body ached in a manner so unfamiliar, she was ready to lose herself to it to sate the revolting beast inside.

Daemon leaned up, lips only inches away from her own as they sighed into each other, tempting fate and their own sanity as the seconds ticked by. His tongue dipped out, laving at her jaw before moving lower the lick stripes against her neck, his hips gently rocking against her own as she whimpered at the feeling of him brushing against her core.

Then he stopped, his hand falling from her neck to hold her waist and press her down against him. A sharp gasp escaped her, a cry that was muffled as she hid her face against his neck.

Daemon drifted a hand into the tangles of her hair, tugging her head back and tried to find her gaze, "I am a better man than that- than this. I should be."

Alaynha did not know what to say, did not know if she should agree with him and stop this now or discourage such silly notions and chase the beast that was growing rampant inside of her to tame it.

Daemon stands, his arms moving to secure her against him as Alaynha wraps her legs around his waist. Her arms move hesitantly around his neck, and Daemon finds that as he nears her bed he is unable to break away from her stare.

There is something hidden within the depths of those brown eyes, something free and unruly, defiant and true that draws him in deeper when he knows he should not.

Curiosity.

Curiosity and nothing more.

Nothing more.

He leaned over her as he placed her softly upon the bed, hands moving lower to run over the soft expanse of her legs, travelling under the shift to explore her flesh and satiate this curiosity.

He blinked furiously as she leaned up to his touch, her breasts pushing against his chest as his forehead leaned against her own once more. He withdrew his hand from her shift, dragging his hands over the material, across her hips and her waist, up her stomach and between her breasts, brushing across her throat and her cheeks to tangle in her hair and pull her up - so tempted, so inclined and aching to press her lips against his own.

Daemon scrunches up his eyes, inhaling deeply as he forced the dragon within him to calm - she was a maiden, and Daemon would not ruin her. Not yet.

He pressed a kiss on her forehead, hand moving to brush across her face as he hushed, "sleep."

Alaynha watched him with a confused gaze, her body burning under his touch as her heart tumbled with hurt at his refusal to continue. Daemon could see it within her eyes, leaning closer to she couldn't escape his gaze, "not like this," he promised.

"I would not dishonour you like this."

Something in Alaynha's heart, the itching part that protested and yearned for his touch once more, settled at that. The rest of her twisted and turned in the face of such turmoil, unsure of her own feelings and the morals of such a matter.

Here was a married man, her sister's husband, in her bed with his hands upon her body and his lips so close to her own, and yet guilt was nowhere in sight. Simply curiosity.

Daemon pressed another soft kiss upon her forehead, his limbs feeling like lead as he pulled himself away and spoke solemnly, "I will sleep upon the chaise and slip out when the guards change shifts. No one will see me and your reputation will remain intact."

Despite all that had happened, and everything they had done, he still had that mischievous look in his eyes as he teased and taunted. But a promise was a promise, and Alaynha could not find it within herself to protest.

Neither of them had gotten much sleep that night, each laying away in their respective places wondering how things had moved so suddenly.

And better yet, how to stop it from happening again.

Or perhaps, what might happen next.

I'm getting back into the flow of writing, so I apologise if this is not great writing. I do hope you enjoyed it nonetheless, and hopefully you should be able to expect some smut in the next chapter.

Thank you all for your patience xxx

Taglist: @kelssssxd @esquivelbianca @chynagirl13 @luanasrta @kemillyfreitas @americanprometheuss @clarap23 @pet1t3 @your-favorite-god @hypocritic-trash-baby @esquivelbianca @serving-targaryen-realness @toji-girl @queenmendes @the-lil-spud

[lulublack90]

Prompt 3 - Dark Fic

@wolfstarmicrofic July 3, word count 709

Sirius lounged on his throne. Spinning his wand between his fingers. Ruling over all of British Wizarddom was boring work. If he’d known exactly how dull it would be, he’d never have bothered taking his seat as Lord Black.

He’d questioned if the Black family was so old and powerful. Why were they throwing in their lot with an unknown wizard of questionable heritage? It had been a joke at his family’s expense. But it had got them thinking and before he knew it, he’d had his wand to Tom Riddle’s head and performed the killing curse for the first time.

And now here he was thrust into power and in a foul mood. 

“Bring in the next one,” He drawled, cracking his stiff neck. He’d already sentenced four to death this morning and he was starting to get peckish. One more and he’d order lunch. 

A man was thrown before him. He was dirty and ragged and his filthy too long hair had fallen forward covering his face. With an exasperated sigh, Sirius waited impatiently for the man to look up. They always did. They might be afraid of him, but they couldn’t help themselves, they all wanted to look upon the man who’d conquered them all. 

The door opened again and Regulus came sauntering in. 

“Sirius, I’m bored, anything interesting going on in here,” He yawned as he walked past the man still kneeling on the floor. 

“Just this last one and then I thought lunch?” Sirius suggested to his brother.

“What’s he done?” Regulus asked, wrinkling his nose at the smell that had finally wafted up to them. 

“No idea,” He clicked his fingers at the guard and stood to attention. 

“He was found living in the woods, stealing supplies from Malfoy Manor of all places.” Sirius sat up on his throne, taking an interest. 

“And what kind of insane person would ever think that was a good idea?” He scoffed. The man lifted his hand, swept his matted hair from his face and looked up directly into Sirius’s eyes. Sirius inhaled sharply. 

“Sirius, are you alright?” Regulus asked, a flash of concern on his face. He stared down at the man and rolled his eyes. “Come on Sirius, he stole from Cissy, it’s an automatic death sentence. Hurry up. Now you’ve mentioned lunch. I’m hungry,” Sirius didn’t move. This was what he’d been afraid of. He'd known he was still out there somewhere, but he’d hoped he’d stay gone. He put his shutters up. Shutting off his emotions so he wouldn’t give himself away. 

“This one’s got a rabid look about him, don’t you think?” He crooned at Regulus. Praying he wouldn't recognise him. 

“Oh, put him out of his misery already, Sirius. He looks like he’s suffered enough.”

“Nah, I think I might enjoy this one for a bit. Guard, have him washed and dressed appropriately, then have him taken to my chambers.” Sirius put on his best-wicked grin as Remus Lupin was dragged from his hall. 

“Merlin, there’s something wrong with you,” Regulus groaned.

“So lunch?” Sirius replied cheerily. 

He parted from Regulus soon after they’d eaten and told the guards they weren’t to disturb him for the rest of the day. They were so scared of him by now that he knew they'd heed his words. He climbed the stone steps up to his chambers and met the guard waiting there. “Go make yourself useful elsewhere.” He ordered. The guard stuttered but didn’t move. 

“But My Lord, what if he attacks you? He’s already tried to scratch the eyes out of Goyle and he bit Crabbe, took a huge chunk out of his arm.” Sirius narrowed his eyes and pointed his wand at the guard, letting the tip rest on his forehead. 

“And what makes you think I can’t protect myself? You’re only here because I allow it. I could get along very easily without you. Now leave before you find yourself kneeling in my hall before my throne.” The guard fled as quickly as he was able. Sirius took a deep steadying breath and opened his chamber door. 

Remus was waiting for him, chained to a ring embedded in the wall. “Hello, sweetheart,” Sirius smirked at him, “Did you miss me?” 

[conchcreature]

2022 Leatherface one shot

Warning: smut, restraints, breeding, oral and doggy style.

You stood outside of Kenneth's room. You could hear his heavy breathing and the rattling of chains. His mattress was squeaking underneath him, his impatience evident. You carefully open the door.

He perks up, staring at you almost innocently. His hands and wrists were dirtied with blood. No one bothered to clean him before this. He was bound to the wall by his neck and wrists with thick pieces of wood and chains like a bull. And you were the young calf he was gonna breed with.

You stepped in and closed the door. He stood up on his knees. His cock was soft but still huge. His body was covered in curly grey hair. His pubes being the biggest group of hair. His chest was thick as well. He had a nice trail from his belly button to his pubes. His rolls obscure the trail a bit.

His eyes searched your body. His hunger was evident. You stepped to the edge of his bed. He lunges, trying to grab you but is stopped by his chains. He groans, getting on all fours to make room for you on the bed. You lay down and spread your legs, exposing your genitals to him. He grabs your thighs and rubs his cheeks against your inner thigh. His eyes close as he feels the texture of your skin.

You can feel his warm breath against you, turning you on. He licks you, making you gasp. He rubs his nose and lips against you, testing the waters. You shudder softly, his beard tickling you just right. He licks you again, slowly. You breathe heavily. He starts pleasuring you with his mouth. His hot breath and slobbery tongue making you squirm. He moans against you, the vibration adding more pleasure.

You can see him humping the air, his cock hardening as he pleases you. You moan and shutter as he gets you close. He pulls you closer against his mouth. You convulse in pleasure. He gulps your juices, adding more aftershocks to the experience. He rests his head on your lower stomach, looking at you with those tired old eyes. Some of your fluids caught in his beard. You catch your breath and sit up. He gets on his knees again. His erection hard and ready.

You get on all fours and kiss his tip. He lets out a soft groan, looking down at you lovingly. His cock was girthy but his uncut foreskin made it smooth at least. You take him in the mouth and he moans loudly, his big hands resting on the back of your head. He plays with your hair as you slowly suck him off. You suck him gently, not wanting to overwhelm him but it just does the exact opposite.

He can feel your tongue going up and down his shaft, his tip barely leaving your throat when you go back. He wants to thrust so badly, to slam into your mouth but he can't. He needs to have some self control but it's so hard (no pun intended) for him to. He's so close. You cup his balls, rubbing them gently. He moans repeatedly, his chest heaving.

He grips your hair as he cums. His seed spills down your throat. You guzzle it, not wanting it to go to waste. He grabs your forehead and pushes you off him before the last cumshot. It gets on your chest. He looks down at you panting. You can see him start to soften. No, we haven't gotten to the main course yet. You need to be bred by him. You get back on all fours and spreads your legs.

You expose your entrance to him. He looks at it hungrily and licks his lips, tasting some of you from earlier. He gets on all fours on top of you. His cock rests against your entrance, teasing you for a moment. He positions it and pushes inside you. You gasp, his girth is a bit too big than what you're used to. He thrust slowly, almost weakly.

You should have known this would be a bit much for him. He's in his seventies after all. You push yourself against him, helping him. He rests his head over your shoulder, his moans and gasps right in your ear. You grit your teeth as you push against him, your own pleasure overwhelming. He wraps his arms around your waist, his eyes fluttering closed as he nears. He thrusts a bit faster. You choke out some encouragement.

He thrusts forward harshly as he cums. You moan loudly as his hot seed makes contact with your insides. You struggle to stay up as he finishes. He collapses on top of you. He nuzzles into your neck, one arm slipped under your head and his other holding your stomach. His soft cock rests inside you, his morning wood being a gift when you wake up tomorrow. He kisses your neck while he rubs your stomach. You lay there, tired. You can feel his cum sloshing inside you.

You pass out as he holds you in his arms.

[theodosiani]

"Let's go home." for kas <3

Find my muse out in the rain, alone and freezing || accepting || @keepslore

Tama has always told her that she only wants what is best for Kasaanda and slowly, the more she stays with Rook the more she realizes that the Qun isn’t best. That is was only better than being a slave in Tevinter, that before now she simply never knew that. No one had taught her that, not even Tama. She was taken from chains in the hull of a slave ship to the Qun. Now she is seeing so much, lingering in awe of the world where once she might have quickly skittered back to Tama after an assignment.

The fear she felt but pushed down because it wasn't what the Qun would have of her. The fear that one day she would be cold and alone and in chains again—Rook has finally shown her it isn't weak to feel that. It isn't something that needs to be fixed. She will have to live with it, yes, but it doesn't define her as broken or wrong.

So she sent Tama a letter, poured all her words into it, even when they felt wrong and right at the same time. Tama would know, Tama would guide her. She only needed to wait until the next meeting, then they could speak in person and Tama could explain why Kasaanda was feeling this way. Use soft words and simple metaphors to explain that she was wrong to feel like the Qun hadn’t given her a life, it had taken one. One she’s never even known is possible.

Except Tama isn’t here.

The meeting point is a simple one, a little tavern just a half day's walk from the Rivaini eluvian. She smiles wide and tells the tavern keeper she's waiting for her teacher and finds a corner table to sit. She waits, patiently after first before she starts to fidget. Tama will tell her it's unbecoming when she arrives but she's also taking so long. Slowly, the sun grows dim first from cloud cover as a quiet storm rolls in and eventually darker yet as the moon rises.

The tavern keeper is gentle, when he ambles over and quietly, kindly, asks Kasaanda if she needs a place to stay for the evening. If perhaps her teacher was only caught up in the storm. The little elf feels numb when she shakes her head, tumbles from her chair, and quickly walks outside. Her hood is forgotten, she circles the tavern once, twice, needs to move until she doesn't because it's too cold and her hands are shaking and her knees feel so weak.

She isn’t crying, or rather the sky is kind enough to do it for her. Waiting, she sent a letter to Tama, she knew the woman wouldn’t like it but—

A figure appears in the distance and for a moment hope blossoms, bright and fervent in Kasaanda before she realizes the figure is too slight. The telltale bump of horns beneath a hood are absent and the cloak looks like lanolin woven and not the carefully waxed canvas Qunari use. Disappointment shutters through her, and it is as if her body has only just realized how cold it is when the Inquisitor approaches her. The little elf is wide-eyed, whether it is tears or rain on her face isn't discernable when the inqisitor extends her hand, "Let's go home."

The elder woman is met with a wail and a small elf, soaked to the skin wrapping her arms tight around the Dhavi's waist.

[christiansorrell]

Play-By-Blog #12: The Isle by Luke Gearing

Welcome to my ongoing play-by-blog of The Isle by Luke Gearing! We are playing this adventure with its original system, The Vanilla Game (adjusted somewhat to fit the format). You can check out the Play-By-Blog Repository to get all caught up if you wish.

How Play-By-Blog works:

I write up the situation, NPCs, and more, just like a DM.

You vote in the poll to help decide the character's course of action.

I roll the dice, resolve actions, and write them up next week.

So on and so forth for the rest of the adventure!

Notation:

[Text in brackets is out-of-character/GM text!] "Non-italicized quotes denote text from the original adventure!" "Italicized quotations denotes NPC dialogue."

Our character: Medon Girou - Magic Cutpurse

Our maps: The Isle, The Dungeon (so far)

[You can use the links above to find Medon's Character Sheet and map of the Isle and the so far uncovered portions below the surface. On the Dungeon map, you are currently in Floor 2, Room 20.]

Now, back to the adventure!

[Another landslide poll! Y'all are focused in your desire to help this horrific, lich-like royal (and I'm excited about it too).]

You look through the dark doorways across the room. You'll need every advantage you can get if you are going to get anything out of this place and leave to tell the tale. It never hurts to have an ally, even if just for now. Who knows if you'll even find his brother down here? You just need to get out of this room.

You agree. If you discover Dainéal during your time here, you will work to kill him.

Fionn's chorus of leeches squeal-speak pleasantly.

"Aw, excellent. I knew there was ambition in your heart. I am a good judge of these things, you see.

"Go then. Find him and end him. When you are done, return to me. I shall have a gift for you, knighthood of a sort. For now, I shall remain here and you are free to rest here." You know you'll need a light down here to do anything safely, especially with the walking dead patrolling the halls. You ask him for aid, just one thing: a way to light the path.

"Well, well" He laughs, squirming squeals from a hundred leeches. "So soon and already you are asking for aid. I will admit you do not look prepared fully for a place like this."

His skeletal hand reaches over into the chest cavity of a nearby bone warrior and pulls a small necklace from out of the center of the writhing mass of leeches. As his fingers unfold, soft beams of light pour out to partially illuminate. The necklace is a fine silver chain holding a small, glowing moonstone amulet. [Mechanically, this amulet grants low light near the wearer (typically, room-wide). You guess it is likely worth around 1,500 hacksilver.] "Take this, but know that in doing so, you are barred from returning to the surface until your quest is complete. That way," he gestures towards the chimney, "is barred to you know, until Dainéal is dead. All who have stolen from me have died. Do not test me."

You take up the necklace and drape it over your neck, now seeing more clearly the disgusting mass of leeches and bones surrounding Fionn. The undead warriors stare blankly in your direction.

It is late in the day, you think. It is hard to tell underground but the light from the fireplace is darkening. Best to rest here as well as you can before heading off.

You start a small fire, sparking the kindling of old papers you dug up from the far corners of the room with the rough blade of the old sword you found in that woman's grave, and cook the dead monk's fish. The entire time, Fionn sits still, sometimes humming a tune you don't recognize. Occasionally, a shutter runs through all of the skeletons, like a shiver down your spine.

You sleep very little, but still, the rest does you well.

In the morning (you think), you gather your belongings and head off into the dark, nodding at Fionn as you go.

To the east, you hear shuffling.

To the south, you hear a strange grinding.

[An unlikely alliance and a light in the darkness. From here, the dungeoncrawl properly begins! Tread carefully, my friends - Christian]

PBB #13 is live now!

[fazbear-fangirl]

Part 6

~ Eight Years Ago ~

— — —

Sophie doesn't realize that she's dozed off until she wakes up to the sound of metal on metal and the feeling of the ground shaking slightly under her feet. She catches her breath with a quick gasp, sitting bolt upright.

It doesn't sound like her security guard. It sounds like a monster - some fairytale beast prowling through the bowels of this massive place.

Her brain moves at a thousand miles a second, ticking down her options. Taser? Her hands fumble on the gun-shaped thing. It's the most dangerous thing she has, but-

She doesn't want to use it. She doesn't know how to use it. She wants something in her hands with buttons and results that she knows.

She shoves the taser hastily back in her backpack and picks up the camera, clutching it to her chest and turning the bright bulb outward.

CLANK. CLUNK. CLANK. CLUNK. CLANK. Each thud shakes the floor a little more. Each one sounds vaguely like a gun cocking, like chain mail being dragged and dropped. Sophie's breath shudders. CLANK. CLUNK. CLANK. CLUNK. CLANK.

From a left turn right before Sophie's dead end that she'd failed to spot in the darkness, a pair of glowing eyes emerge.

Sophie freezes stiff for a moment, her breath coming quick and shallow as she trembles.

A deep voice starts to speak as another CLANK takes it further out of the hallway. "...Hello-?"

Immediately, her body moving without her even feeling it, Sophie lifts up the camera and clicks the shutter.

FLASH!

For an instant, the utility tunnel is as bright as day. In that instant, Sophie sees Freddy Fazbear, the camera flash gleaming off his glossy casing. As the light fades she's able to see him flinch and rear back, covering its eyes. "I CANNOT SEE!"

Sophie jumps to her feet and runs forward, then hesitates in the fork of the path, running frantically in place as she tries to work out where to go. The bad security guard went back the way she came, so in a split second decision she turns and books it past Freddy.

The utility tunnels twist and wind. Sophie rips her way around corners as she hears the clanking footsteps resume behind her.

"W-wait! Come back! I can help you!"

NO THANK YOU. Sophie's breathing gulps in her throat and her legs burn as she runs and she rounds the corner and-

"Freddy? What's wrong?"

-slams right into the thick metal calves of Glamrock Chica herself. She bounces back in a beautiful display of Newton's Third Law and lands on her ass with a child's "OOFH!"

Chica's eyes whir as she blinks. "Oh!" She bends at the waist. "Hey there, cutie! Are you lost?"

Sophie's dropped her camera. She fumbles to the side, grabs it, and lifts it in front of her face.

FLASH!

The utility tunnel lights up again and Chica recoils. "BAWK BUH-KAWK?"

Sophie rolls to the side and scrambles on all fours until her legs are beneath her enough to run. She tucks into a dead sprint, acid burning in her lungs.

There's light a few turns ahead. She follows it and bursts out into a large room with a giant metal and glass cylinder in the middle. In the cylinder is a glamrock-sized chair, above which hovers an array of threatening-looking tools. Behind it is a lifted walkway with stairs on both sides, lined with four doors with the silhouettes of different members of the band.

There's a bass being played somewhere. Roxanne Wolf is directly in front of Sophie, back to her as she examines her reflection in the glass of the cylinder. Her hair is flipped over her shoulder as she examines it.

"-still feels sticky. Ugh. Fan violence is out of control these days."

Sophie stops short, frozen, but it's too late. She watches Roxy's ears twitch, watches her head turn.

"HEY!"

Lift.

FLASH.

Roxanne stumbles back against the cylinder with a guttural grunt, her forearm flying up in front of her eyes.

Sophie charges up the walkway. Freddy's elevator is nearest. She runs up to it and starts to bang on it with her fists.

The bass guitar stops. "HEY!" a different, much deeper voice shouts.

NO. Sophie keeps hitting the door, begging it to open as the walkway starts to vibrate beneath her feet, metal footsteps climbing up towards her from the other side. "CUT THAT OUT!" Montgomery Gator snarls.

She turns and lifts her camera.

FLASH!

He doesn't stop.

FLASH!

He's still coming. Sophie starts walking backwards, her breath shuddering in her lungs.

FLASH! FLASH! FL-

A giant metal hand grabs the camera, crumpling the bulb instantly as he tosses it aside.

Montgomery Gator looks down at her from on high, his mechanical tail swaying lightly behind his back. He regards her with an expression inscrutable behind sunglasses.

Sophie stands wide-eyed and frozen as he grabs the back collar of her pullover, lifting her off the ground like she weighs nothing. He holds her in front of his face, giving her a view of every single one of his long teeth.

Slowly, he reaches up and taps his star-shaped sunglasses. "That trick a' yours idn't gone work on me, little bit," he informs her, a crocodile smile in his voice.

(Sophie's hands fly up to cover her ears as he talks to her. Why oh why is he so LOUD?)

"What's a nugget like you doin' down in Parts n' Services after hours?" he asks. The index claw of his other hand pokes lightly into the squishy nook between the bottom of her ribs.

Sophie's hyperventilating. Her brain flashes images and ideas too fast to be put to words behind her eyes, something to do with the Monty hoodie underneath her pullover, with being strong, with the ear-throbbing roar that she'd heard him showing off to a screaming crowd of children-

She grabs the hand poking into her with both of hers, takes a deep breath, and gives her best roar. It's probably closer to a scream, opening her throat in the back and pushing up the air in her lungs to rip hollow through her vocal cords.

It's loud. Louder than even he's being right now. Monty blinks and falls silent. The hand poking into her lowers slightly as hers push it down.

In the sudden silence, She hears Freddy and Chica run in together as Roxy starts to climb the stairs right behind her. Just behind Monty, Freddy's door has opened - something about animatronic proximity causing the thick metal gate to lift up. Sophie glances at it, then glares at Monty with terror and venom and pulls her arms out of the sleeves of her oversized pullover.

"WHAT-" he exclaims.

She falls out of it and drops, lands in a crouch, and dives past Monty's feet, throwing herself into the hallway behind it and starting to run.

"HEY!" Monty snarls again behind her. Heavy metal foosteps start to pound the floor at almost the same rate that Sophie's are, long, tireless legs carrying him much further per step than Sophie can hope to outrun. Come on come on come ON come ON!

There's a sharp bend. Sophie leans into the curve and almost skids on the ground as she rounds it. Behind her, she hears Monty ACTUALLY skid, momentum crashing him into the wall with the loudest sound of metal on metal that Sophie's heard in her life.

YES. She doesn't dare look back. There's an elevator door at the end of this hall. Go go go go go go go go GO GO GO GO GO!

The elevator doors open for her and she runs in so fast that she crashes against the second set of doors on the other side. She lifts her hand and starts to frantically slam her palm on the button next to her. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-

Behind her, she hears the doors start to close behind her, then stop. She hears them slide open. Her body sped up with adrenaline, she ducks beneath the claw that reaches out to grab her and turns, running on all fours through Monty's legs and back into the hallway-

A hand reaches down from behind and grabs her backpack. Sophie starts to wriggle out of the straps, but instead feels herself tugged sharply back, feet skidding on the floor. Cold claws curl into the back of her collar again, this time firmly grasping both Sophie's hood and her t-shirt.

"Gotcha!" Monty's voice echoes triumphantly.

Sophie starts to squirm and squeal as her feet leave the ground, reaching up to tug on Monty's wrist as her legs kick in the air.

"Alright, now, let's simmer down..."

Sophie feels her foot connect with chassis behind her.

"Would ya- HEY!"

She swings herself forward and kicks back again, this time connecting with both feet.

Monty stumbles back. "Can ya jus'- HEY!"

Her voice caught between somewhere with grunts of effort and whimpers of fear, Sophie spins herself in Monty's grip, twisting her collar uncomfortably tight around her neck in exchange for being able to better kick his chest.

Monty grabs her ankle. "Cut it OUT! We're just tryn'a-"

"Monty, what are you doing?" Freddy's voice asks.

Monty and Sophie both look up to see Freddy Fazbear standing at the end of the hallway, Chica and Roxy both behind.

The gator immediately lets go of her leg. "The jit's kickin' me, Fred! Whaddya expect me to do here?"

"Everything is alright," says Freddy, lifting his hands in a placating motion. "Why don't we put him down and discuss this calmly?"

(Him? Oh. The hoodie. Sophie doesn't argue.)

"Y'sure?" Monty asks, a mechanical eyebrow swiveling upward skeptically. "He's a slippery li'l thing..."

"It is alright," Freddy repeats.

Sophie and Monty literally exchange a look. Monty shrugs. "Suit yerself..."

The second Sophie's feet touch the ground, she dives back between Monty's legs and into the elevator again.

"HEY- GET HIM! MONTY! GET HIM!" Roxy shouts from behind Freddy.

Monty doesn't even turn around. "Naw, naw, Fredbear wants us all to talk this out. Let's talk this out!"

Sophie slams her palm on the button again and this time the elevator door closes all the way. It starts to rocket up so fast that Sophie loses her balance, crumpling to the ground.

After a bit, she sits up, panting for breath as the speed evens out. Her entire body is shaking with adrenaline. Oddly enough, she feels a smile start to spread on her face. "Ha...!" a single, halfhearted laugh chimes from her throat.

The elevator door opens into another dark hallway, full of shelves. She darts through it, looking around and checking out the features and hiding places before finding another big sliding door. This one opens for her into an huge orange wonderland of a room, with a big star-shaped light on the ceiling and "Freddy Fazbear" written on the wall in big neon letters. There's a giant window directly across from her, with security robots patrolling on the other side.

Sophie backs up and lets the door close in front of her, daunted by the size of the space and the exposure of the window.

Time slows down to fractions of seconds as ideas and analysis flash through her head. Okay. So there's probably three more rooms like this somewhere to her left. They're either going to take the elevator she just took or pile into a different one. If it's option number two, they're probably already on their way through Roxy's room and will see her through the window if she doesn't run or find a hiding spot somewhere in here in the next few seconds. If they're waiting to take her elevator up, though, then she has longer.

If she runs and they took Roxy's elevator, they'll definitely catch her. If she hides in this hallway and they take the elevator she took, then they'll probably find her right away. So she can't do either of those.

...But if they come up through her elevator and don't see her, the length of time passed will make them assume she's already run out the door. And if they come up through Roxy's elevator and don't see her, the length of time passed will make them think she's hidden in this hallway. So her best option is to find a spot in Freddy's room RIGHT NOW.

She steps forward and lets the door open again, eyes rapidly scanning the room. Too visible too obvious too cumbersome tooTRASH CAN.

Sophie sprints across the room, darts behind the trash can into the corner, lifts the lid, climbs in, and lowers it. Seconds later, she hears the door she could have run through open.

"Well, he isn't in here," Chica hums, a frown in her voice. "Do you think he hid in the storage hallway?"

"Iunno," Monty grunts, right above her. Sophie presses her hands over her mouth and squeezes her eyes shut as his hand lands on top of the trash can she's in. She hears him move the curtains behind her, then hears his footsteps walk away.

"Be careful!" Chica chirps. (It sounds like she's staying by the door.)

"I'm bein' careful, girl!" Monty exclaims. "Ain't my stuff t'break, is it?" Sophie hears the curtains on the other side of the room drag over their railing, then hears him walk across to the far corner and move the arcade machine. "Slippery thing..."

The door Sophie came through opens. Ah. They split up. Sophie hugs her knees and thanks everything that decides what happens in this world that it made her the smartest kid in the history of the universe.

"Was he back there?" Chica asks.

"No. Is he in here?" Roxy asks.

"Nope," Monty grunts.

"Could he have run?" Freddy asks.

"We would have seen him if he did, wouldn't we? Rockstar Row is so big, and he has such little legs..."

"D'ya see anythin', Roxy?"

"Shut up."

"HEY, I'M JUST-!"

"Monty, shut UP."

All of the animatronics fall silent.

"Well!" Freddy exclaims. "He was not in the hallway and he is not in here, so perhaps he has hidden outside!"

"Or maybe he hid in the hallway behind you two and took the elevator back down!"

"I doubt it. I would have seen him. He's probably hiding somewhere out in the hallway."

"Whatever. Let's jus' split up and move out."

Sophie's shoulders slump in relief. She lets a smile ghost across her lips and waits for metal feet to move out of the room.

And waits for metal feet to move out of the room.

And waits for metal feet to mo-

The plastic trash can lid suddenly pops off, neon light shining down on Sophie. Her head snaps up, eyes and mouth open wide, to find Freddy Fazbear looking down at her.

"There you are!" he rumbles.

[a-drabble-a-dray]

1.1

Mist rolled in from the docks at the break of dawn. The growling of the motorcycle faded into silence. The woman walked out into the empty street, buttoned-up trenchcoat warding her against the chill.

She slowly scanned the road, catching glimpses of all the closed blinds and shuttered doors. She herself wouldn’t be working on a Friday morning if she could help it, but the thrill of the chase had her hooked. One last look at the cameras on the opposite side of the street was all she needed. Unbuttoning her coat, taking a step back, bracing herself, she broke into a sprint towards the chain link fence protecting the warehouse.

She couldn’t help but smile as she leapt, shoes finding just enough purchase to propel her a couple steps upward. Her hand reached the top of the fence, still wet with dew, and she vaulted over the barrier. She cast her shadow on the first sunlight of the day, coat fluttering behind her, and as her feet landed on the concrete she already began walking towards the building proper.

“Scarlet!” A voice called from behind her, thoroughly breaking her flow. “You know we have a key, right?”

“Well,” she shrugged, looking over her shoulder at her accomplice by the bike, “did you find it yet?”

He sighed, going back to rummaging through the assorted valuables she kept on her motorcycle in lieu of a helmet.

Scarlet paused, taking a deep breath. The cold sea breeze and the prospect of a solid lead were all she needed to uphold her mood, stepping forward regardless. The warehouse was silent and, according to her sources, long unused. The reports, however, contradicted the brand-new chain and padlock stuck to the weathered old door.

“Volk!” She huffed, stepping back towards the fence. “Bolt cutters.”

“...Right.” He paused, having made a mess of the mess that was already there. Fishing the cutters out, he tossed them up over the fence, and into her waiting hand. “Maybe you could cut a hole into the gate here. Before I freeze to death?” He huffed, retreating into his fur coat for warmth.

“Right, right, I–” She paused, blinking, remembering something. A hand slipped into her coat pocket, producing a small, dull key.

“...Fuck you.” Volk glared.

“Right, thanks.” She threw the key back over the fence, into the not-so-waiting hands of her associate, and made her way back.

The padlock was new, but she always made sure to keep her tools sharp. Even smaller bolt cutters like hers managed to make short work of it, and the chains went limp, only to reveal the door’s own lock was broken through.

The door creaked open, sunlight and sea breeze following Scarlet inside. The dim warehouse had a single fixture: A wooden chair at its center, upon which sat a young man, bound and gagged.

“Mmph!” He called out, eyes wide.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” Scarlet approached, wasting no time in untying the piece of cloth stuck in his mouth, despite the complications of his squirming and muffled yelling all the while. “...There you go. What’s wrong?”

He yelled out once more, breathless. “Above!”

Scarlet’s eyes flicked up, and caught the glint of seawater just in time.

The creature lunged down from the ceiling, leaping at her with sharp claws, and even sharper teeth in a horribly distorted muzzle.

She inhaled sharply, stepping back and calculating her position against its angle. Its pounce still forced her onto the floor, knocking the breath out of her lungs, but she managed to push both its paws onto her shoulders, distributing the impact as best she could. With a grimace, she managed to push a foot into its midsection, and plant another on the ground. A second away from a bite, she poured all her strength into kicking it backwards as hard as she could.

As its weight left her and she rolled back onto her feet, she saw it fly straight into the steel shutter– And right through it, as the metal seemed to rust and crumble on contact.

Scarlet caught her breath, reaching into her coat. The second the monster broke back through the shutter, however, she thought better. “Volk!”

The monster growled at her, despite sounding like it should be incapable of doing so. Its body structure was that of a dog, but its face and tail were already taking on the round, hydrodynamic shape of a shark’s, patches of fur gone and substituted by smooth skin. The green mist occasionally puffing out of its half-formed gills ran thinner by the second; this creature was by no means stable. She was on her mark’s tail, just as he was on hers.

The amalgam’s nails scratched against the concrete as it charged forward. Scarlet ran towards a wall, and away from the hostage, noting the wet, slick look of the monster’s fur. As it sprinted at her, she leapt over it, watching it skid on the floor and crash into the wall.

“What’s wrong? Slippery?” She smirked, kicking off the wall herself in order to move towards the shutter.

“Scarlet? Wh– Oh.” Volk finally stepped inside, noticing the mess.

“No time!” She huffed, careful not to slip herself on the hybrid’s trail. “Five from below!”

“Five– Got it.” Volk nodded, pulling out his lighter and stepping out of the creature’s line of sight.

Scarlet approached the shutter door, counting in her head as the creature regained its senses.

One.

She stopped on her tracks, back against the half-corroded metal, almost inviting it to attack her.

Two.

Its claws left scratches on the concrete as it picked up speed from a standstill, eyeing her hungrily.

Three.

Scarlet hopped onto the door, careful to balance on the thin metal, feeling the rust crack under her weight.

Four.

The amalgam leapt at her, with the same ferocity as the first time, and a murderous glint in its mismatched eyes.

Heh.

Volk stepped in right on cue, the runes on his right hand flashing into existence as a spear of fire shot along the ground like a firework, before rising up and exploding right under the monster. It was launched right over Scarlet’s head, and she responded by reaching out into her coat once more, this time pulling out a pair of well-worn handguns.

Two shots rang out. The monster was dead before it hit the ground outside.

Scarlet stood still for a second, before the tension leaked out of her, practically leaking out of her pores. Almost like… She blinked, stepping away from the door, as the corpse began deflating in a large cloud of green-tinted mist. The metal door, and the supports caught in the haze, quickly rusted and crumbled into nothing.

Now safe, Scarlet properly let out a long, heavy sigh. Raising her eyes to the center of the warehouse, she happened to catch the moment Volk gave up on undoing the ropes tying down the hostage and simply incinerated the knot.

“So…” The young man blinked. “I–”

“Walker, correct?” She fetched a notepad from her coat pocket, reviewing case details.

“Y-Yeah.” He shakily stood up, likely too sore. At a glance, he seemed relatively unharmed, if too skinny. His clothes, formal as they were, had been stained by the brine– A good clue, if the culprit was still trying to be subtle.

“We talked to the ship’s crew. You can take the weekend off.” She noted, watching the sun breaching through the missing door and being reflected on the now-drying saltwater puddles. “We’ll deal with the bastard who put you here, too.”

“That– That’s good!” He nodded, trying to stretch out his joints after a night of sitting. “Just, well…” He raised his hand, pointing with hesitancy. “What’s, uh, that?”

Scarlet and Volk both followed his gesture to the amalgam carcass sitting there under the morning sun, impressively already starting to smell like fish.

Scarlet stepped over, eyeing the corpse, already out of blood to leak. Unceremoniously besides a silent compromise over her dignity, she punted it off the side of the warehouse’s concrete yard; a second later, the sound of it hitting the rocks below was clearly visible, followed by the splash as it finally found the ocean where it, questionably, belonged.

Scarlet snapped around, staring at the kidnapped waiter. “Nothing.”

“But–”

“Hey,” Volk leaned in, throwing a hand over the young man’s shoulder. Scarlet noticed a sniff from the waiter, dreadfully familiar with the strength of her resident caster’s perfume. “You’ve had a long night, haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but–” Walker shifted, seemingly unwilling to just step away.

“Now, now.” Volk chuckled, moving over to the front of the other man. He looked down, compensating for the difference in heights by cupping the waiter’s chin and slowly lifting it up to meet his gaze. “No need for silly questions. Okay?”

“O-Okay.” The poor idiot blinked, eyes wide.

“We’ll take care of things right here. It’s our job. You, though?” He smirked. “Oh, you could do with some rest. Or… Perhaps a little pampering?”

Scarlet groaned as she walked past, flicking a signed business card for their usual restaurant towards the two.

“Now, we’ll meet you there in a bit for a little date. Our treat.” He winked, tucking the card into his victim’s hands. “Then we can talk more about this, okay?”

Volk pushed the blushing, stunned man back onto the chair, and then promptly caught up with Scarlet on her way out.

“Looks like we’ll be getting one more story for the road,” he declared, triumphantly smug.

“Not like we needed one.” She countered, seeing how high the sun had already climbed and calculating their schedule for the day.

“At least we have plans for breakfast.” Volk shrugged.

“...We should get that done with, then.” She paused, taking a deep breath while looking at the clear fall sky. “Our other plans for the day are, well, a bit more pressing.”

[barovianbitches]

Big Bear, Little Bear - Constantin & Bettany

The evening fog rolled over the forested hills and valleys of Barovia… Its cold mists spreading through the twisted trees and dark skies. The fog made everything appear subdued as if seen through a thin veil. Everything stood still, not a noise could be heard as it seemed like the silence would spread for eternity.

There was no sign of life in the forest, no chirping night bugs, chattering rodents, or howling wolves. The only identifiable confirmation of at least some living thing was a caravan parked near a cobbled street, two massive steeds tied to a nearby tree. What appeared to be the warm light of a candlestick flickering faintly from its shuttered windows.

The inhabitants of the cavern had left it, leaving but one member behind of his own volition.  

Bettany Blackstarr sat alone, the party having left to find somewhere to get a drink, led by the boisterous (and frankly insufferable) Winchester. The cowboy claimed that they needed to make a stop “to clear their minds”, which apparently meant getting drunk while on a race against time. 

Well, the caravan wasn’t entirely empty, the unconscious body of Constantin Vasiliev accompanied him, his friend lying motionless on the wooden floor. 

It was the first time Bettany had been truly alone long enough to look at the Barovian’s wounds, even now he struggled to look too deeply at the horror that had become of him.

Constantin didn’t look well. His skin had become chalky, and paler than normal, eyes having sunk into his sockets slightly. His body had been horrifically burned, twisted, and pulled skin melded with his chainmail. The puncture in his neck spread nasty tendrils of dark purple magic through his veins, spreading under his skin, creeping up onto his jawline and down his chest. His curly mop of dark hair lay flat and matted with blood across his forehead.

Bettany shuddered, looking at his friend in this state was upsetting… it should be him lying there, maybe if he hadn't been so weak.

Bettany crouched closer to Constantin, placing a single finger on his forehead.

Constantin’s corpse offered no response as it was poked. He was, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world.

He was tired… so tired from the journey,

He hadn't had any time to think about what happened. How his failure at the windmill led directly to the near murder of one of his only friends. Bettany shook his head, closing his eyes as he attempted to calm his mind from the thought.

His consciousness soon slipped into sleep, a grey environment made of smudged shapes, nothing distinguishable from the other blurry objects in the foreground. 

Inside the grey dreamscape, a figure loomed over Bettany. It was a gargantuan figure, clad in black iron armor, a weave of chains forming sturdy yet flexible panels of armor. Its face was obscured by a similarly tinted helmet, a flat panel of iron with grills to allow airflow, and slits in the visor for sight. It simply stared down at the Druid unblinkingly, silently, a veritable statue.

Bettany felt a presence creep behind him. He tensed, turning cautiously to face the intruder, the setting around him morphing into a faint cobbled street. 

Bettany was met with armor, having to crane his head upwards to meet the figure’s eyes… or where his eyes would be.

The armor was unfamiliar, not Constantin’s… not armor that Bettany had seen him adorn at the very least.

“… What?” Bettany muttered, slowly reaching a hand to touch the black-clad figure.

Two gloved hands shot upwards, a sudden movement. They came to rest on the sides of the helmet, lifting it from the armored man’s head. Under the steel bucket was… Constantin.

He looked… Different. His face wasn’t as gaunt, his eyes had a bit more life in them. He stared down at Bettany with not even the vaguest feeling on his face.

“You’re… here?” Bettany asked, his voice echoing through the dreamscape.

Bettany sighed with relief, rushing towards Constantin, throwing his arms around him.

The giant of a man glared down at Bettany. His arms raised wide, avoiding reciprocating the sudden embrace. He did not recoil or attack, but there was a tense air in the grey void. After a moment, he spoke in a dull, harsh accent.

“что ты делаешь, маленький человек?”

Bettany dropped the hug, backstepping in a panic.

‘He doesn’t think in common!’ Bettany recalled. Bettany didn’t speak Barovian, he’d picked up some of the linguistics but was still nowhere close to being fluent.

“Constantin?” He asked, the grey environment distorting momentarily as Bettany lost his focus trying to translate his words into Barovian. 

 “я нет.. имея…понимание?” Bettany stammered, looking confusedly at the paladin.

”кто ты.” The spectral form of Constantin said flatly, with a harshness to his tone that Bettany would know the living Constantin offered to those he found threatening.

Even a basic course of Barovian was overkill to understand Constantin, especially given the context of his expression. He was asking who Bettany was. He did not recognize his friend. Not here.

Bettany felt himself shake. The words had hit him like a punch, he pointed a trembling finger to his own chest.

“Друг,” Bettany muttered, “friend… I’m your friend.”

Bettany paused, searching Constantin’s cold gaze for any sort of recognition, his eyes welling with tears.

“Друг.” He repeated.

Constantin's unrecognizing glare softened, but only slightly. 

"Как тебя зовут, друг?" The interrogation continued. There was an air of hostility, but it did not project outward. It was reclusive... Defensive.

Bettany bit his lip, exhaling shakily, “Bettany Blackstarr? Mеня зовут черная звезда…”

Bettany shook his head, looking around desperately. Why didn’t it work? What did he do wrong?

“You don’t remember me?” Bettany asked, “помнить?”

His shoulders tensed, the scenery re-working itself like water spilling into ink, foggy structures forming a similar scene… the vague outline of a bank in the woods near a creek.

"Bettany." Constantin murmured in Common. As the name echoed through the forest, his shape changed. The tall black suit of armor morphed into a more familiar leather gambeson, Constantin returning to more of his normal height than the towering Knight. "What are you doing here?" Constantin asked vaguely, almost staring through Bettany.

The shift in Constantin’s appearance was enough to give Bettany a fleeting moment of comfort, as he was no longer staring at a hulking figure with his dying friend’s face. 

“I’m here to talk to you…” Bettany said, still craning his head to look up at Constantin. “Do you know what’s happening?”

Against the monochromatic world, Bettany’s eyes stood out like two gold ingots in a bed of salt, radiating a warm glow. 

“What do you seek from me?" Constantin asked, staring through Bettany and completely ignoring any mention of his dying. It was as if he was almost there, but not entirely. A recording of him, playing on loop.

The robotic-ness of Constantin’s presence frustrated Bettany. How could he save Constantin if he couldn’t even converse with his spirit? He owed his life to Constantin, and he was too weak to return the favor. Too frail and foolish.

What did he seek? He sought his friend… he sought…

“Guidance,” Bettany replied. He needed to know how to be strong, how to protect the party while Constantin’s life lay in limbo.

“I need you to teach me… I need to be strong, help me. Help me, please.” Bettany begged.

The spectral visage of the Barovian Paladin slowly knelt, bringing himself closer to Bettany's height. One of his large, gloved hands reached out, an index finger extending and tapping on Bettany's chest with a dull thud.

"Strength... Is here." Murmured the ghost. "Love is strength. Trust is strength. Isolation.... Is safety." He muttered, his voice a low, rumbling whisper. He cast his ice-blue eyes up to Bettany, and the Druid could see that they almost... Came alive. As if he was truly speaking to Constantin, rather than the emotionless guard, the keeper of the spirit.

“Strength begets burden..." The specter continued, before taking a deep breath.

“Guardians are chosen not because they are the strongest or the wisest... But because they have the force of will to bear the burden." Constantin intoned softly, looking up to Bettany with some sort of lucidity. The Druid could almost believe that he was truly speaking to his friend. "I cannot teach you to fight like me. I can only remind you of what you already know, младший брат."

Tears rolled down Bettany’s cheeks, “You’re hurt really bad… you’re hurt really bad and it’s my fault.”

Bettany buried his face in his hands, guilt overwhelming him.

“I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to help you.”

The spirit of Constantin removed a heavy leather glove, revealing a hand with a deep scar on the palm, as well as the brand of a chain around the wrist. This large appendage reached up to Bettany's face, wiping a tear as it fell, before gently patting the Druid's cheek a few times. Bettany initially winced at the touch but eventually found solace in the gesture.

“It was my duty." Constantin said, with a wan smile. Lucidity faded slightly from his gaze. "What must I teach you?" The specter asked, rising to his full height again.

Bettany looked to his feet, pondering. He scuffed his toe on the ground, the movement causing ripples in the surface of his illusion, rings spreading from the point like blood in water.

“What do I need to do? How do I learn to fight? How can I protect the party if I’m physically inept?” Bettany asked, gaze flicking back up to Constantin. It was now that Bettany felt the weight of his dual sickles strapped to his sides. He fumbled with the leather clasp, undoing the gold fastens and holding the weapons in each hand.

“Teach me more. Teach me to use these so that this doesn’t happen again.” Bettany instructed, his knuckles whitening on the wooden handles.

Constantin shook his head, smiling sadly.

 “I cannot teach you to be strong like me.” He rose to his full standing height. 

“We are different, you and I. You are strong in ways I am not.” His ice-blue eyes locked on Bettany’s, commanding focus. 

“Nature is your strength.” He intoned somewhat cryptically. “Your nature is your strength.”

Bettany protested, “I don’t understand. I can’t use nature to save the party. I- I can’t fight with it.” Bettany shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned his back on Constantin, fingers gripping at his long hair. “I can use spells, sure, but that’s… that's it. What if we enter another dead zone? I’m useless. I can’t even turn myself into something strong, just a stupid fucking bat! I turned into a panther once and I passed out, I passed out and you died.” Bettany’s words came out choppy as his quick breath turned to sobs, tears rolling down his cheeks as he sank to his knees, entirely crying now.

The hulking form of Constantin knelt beside Bettany, placing a hand on his shoulder again, pulling him upwards to meet his gaze. “I chose my fate.” He said plainly. “I died protecting what I cared about.” He continued. A moment of silence passed, as the dream form of Vasiliev smiled sadly. “You did all you could. You grew. Trees snap in storms, yet the roots remain... New life blooms. Weather this storm, little brother. You will grow firm bark and sharp branch again. Lean into your nature. Become the fanged beast again, and fight harder. Fight longer. Train as I do, and grow like you see the world grow.”

Bettany continued to cry, shaking his head. 

“I didn’t get to spend enough time with you… I wish I could have learned more of what you could’ve taught me, I should’ve listened to you more… you were my brother, the brother I never had until I did. And now you’re gone.”  Bettany stammered. 

Constantin sighed. “That is not true, little man.” He replied, tapping Bettany’s chest. “I am here. Just as you and your companions will always remain here.” He said, patting his own chest. “When you roar with the fury of the Bear, know I am there with you, lending you my might. As you walk these lands, I walk with you. I am Barovia, and Barovia is me. The ground is my flesh, the trees are my bones. The mist is my lifeblood. You are in my home, and my spirit will always go with you in this place, in life and in death.” 

His image began to wane slightly. “Father once said that a man would not die... So long as his name is spoken. As long as you remember me, little brother, I will be with you.” Kneeling there, Constantin did something inconceivable to those who knew him in life. He extended his arms, beckoning Bettany forward. 

Bettany threw himself into the paladin’s arms, burying himself into the thick leather jacket that clad Constantin’s torso. “Thank you… thank you for being my brother.” Bettany’s words were near unintelligible as he cried. The weight of Constantin began to fade as the dream began to weaken. Bettany desperately clung to Constantin, knowing this could very well be the last time he’d be able to... Even in this state of illusion. It could be the last time the two spoke. 

Bettany’s physical body stirred, the connection weakening as he woke. The world faded like fabric washed out from the sun, the surroundings blurring as it drew to an end. “I’m not ready,” Bettany said in a desperate attempt to stop what he knew he couldn’t prevent.

The last words Constantin said to Bettany rang in his mind, even as he awoke next to the Barovian’s dying body.

“I’m proud of you, little bear.”