#Token of Darkness

[backlistbacklog]

Showing off my arc copy of Token (not that I was sent an arc, I found this in a Half Price Books, but damn I just love this version so much)

[major-gilneass]

Going through the entirety of Amelia Atwater-Rhodes books. Just finished the Maeve’ra series, gonna restart the Den of Shadows (I’ve read the original quartet, but not the extended series), then the Kiesha’ra series…and I just ordered the Mancer series from ThriftBooks, so YAY.

[vampressart]

When he says "I love her," but Vessel said:

"Cause I'm dying to melt through, to the heart of her molecules, till the particles part like holy water. If anything, she's an undiscovered element, either born in Hell or heaven-sent, either way, I'm into it."

[cosmicdusky]

random bio/locs

ㅤㅤㅤr͟ɑ́p͟i͟d͟o͟ y͟ f͟u͟r͟i͟o͟s͟o͟ ━ tan elegante queㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤfascina al mundo entero. 🏎️ ドリフト

ㅤ

ㅤㅤ𝐅𝟏 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 🏁 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⌗𝗱𝗼𝗈𝗋𝗱𝗶𝗲 ——— 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋.

ㅤ

ㅤㅤ𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗲; 𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗇.ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝖽. ⛧。 the other side.

ㅤ

ㅤsink your teeth ㅤsplit my skin ㅤmake me bleed.

[hopesangelsprite]

The Summoning

Pairing: Vampire!Illumi x Reader

Summary: Being immortal can grow very old, very quickly and Illumi's found that out the hard way. The only reasonable solution would be to find a suitable playmate, right?

Warnings: mentions of blood/death/murder, biting, size/strength difference, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, dacryphilia, breeding kink, degradation, female ejaculation, manipulation (vampire compulsion)

MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI

Viewer discretion is advised.

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God?

Or are you really here to cast me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

Illumi watched with half-lidded eyes as his servants removed a corpse from his feet, nothing left of the younger male but an empty, soulless husk. How many had he gone through now? 30? 300? Whatever the death toll was, it didn't matter. Illumi no longer cared for numbers, the sheer quantity of his years on earth drawing him to the conclusion that they were overrated.

"Bring me the next one.", he ordered while leaning further into the large throne chair he'd taken residence in, "If this one doesn't satisfy me, I'll be draining one of you in their place.". Illumi let threat roll off his blood-stained lips easily, keen on fulfilling it should he be presented another weakling.

There was a brief silence before the doors to his quarters opened, your figure edging closer uncertainly. The closer you got, the better he was able to analyze you. Unlike his previous victims, there were no tears in your eyes or trembling in your limbs. Though you eyed him warily, he sensed you were more curious than afraid. You were quite attractive, as well; with smooth curves just barely concealed by what was left of a skirt and halter top. As you finally got within arm's reach of him, you sank to your knees with fluttering lashes.

Illumi's cock twitched at the sight, the position giving him a perfect view of your tits and exposed thighs. "Do you know why you're here, pretty thing?", he inquired whilst making a mental note of just how fragile you were in comparison to him. To any mortal man, you'd be considered healthy, maybe even too much so for those on the weaker end of the male spectrum. To Illumi, however, you were nothing but a doll, a plaything he could bend and contort to his undead heart's content.

"I was running from my old life... I was promised shelter.", you answered after a moment and Illumi chuckled. He leaned forward, crimson tongue flicking over glinting fangs, and grasped your face with a large, ring-laden hand. "There's no safety for you here, little doll, only death or imprisonment.", he drawled out, keen eyes catching the way your thighs pressed together at his touch. With one hand, you removed his hand from your face, head turning to place a kiss on his palm. The other you placed on his dark denim-clad thigh, fingers tracing patterns into the coarse material. "Then I should aim to please, no?", you inquired as your hand crept closer to his belt.

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

I didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad

A smirk graced Illumi's lips at your insinuation, lust deepening within him as you carefully undid his belt's clasp. So, he leaned back, dark eyes watching you like a predator behind inky tresses. He pushed his hips forward to allow you better access to him, reveling in the tiny gasp you let out upon freeing his cock. His skin was milky, fading into a pretty pink closer to his weeping tip; a few veins adorned his shaft, a little longer than he was thick. Your mouth watered at the sight, core moistening as you took him into your hands.

Illumi groaned at the softness of your skin against his, catching his bottom lip between a fang as you gave him a few experimental strokes. You shuffled closer, knees no doubt bruising from the floor's harsh surface. You placed your chin on his knees, inquiring eyes boring into his as you swiped a thumb over his leaky slit; you were seeking permission, how wonderfully submissive of you. "Go on then, have a taste.", he permitted with a lazy nod.

His breath caught in his throat as your warm, plush lips enveloped his cockhead, your tongue following shortly afterward. You kissed him wetly, the taste of precum unfamiliar yet welcomed. You took him into your mouth once more, this time sucking him as far back into your throat as you could. A deep, satisfied hum rumbled through Illumi's chest as he watched you begin to come up for air, a blood-stained hand tangling itself into your hair to stop your rising and push you down further. "Now, now. Don't underestimate yourself, darling, you can take a little bit more.", he mewled over the sound of your gagging, "Can't you?".

Illumi finally let you up after a few moments, cooing at the sight of tear-streaked mascara kissing your cheeks. Still, your eyes only held a strange look of awe and adoration; one that Illumi found himself mirroring as you continued to suck him off ever so sweetly. Illumi hissed as he pulled you off his cock, leaning down to catch your lips with his. He deepened the kiss as he guided you from the floor onto his lap, the taste of his arousal on your tongue only making him harder.

As Illumi broke the kiss, lips dipping to nip at your neck while his hands slipped underneath your skirt, a low curse escaped him as his fingers met your bare, soaked core. He found his sanity waning. "Nothing underneath?", he hummed as he brought your face close to his, "What a pretty little slut you are.". He locked eyes with you, eye contact unwavering as he pushed two long fingers past your entrance and began searching for that soft, spongy spot he knew would have you singing praises.

You whimpered upon the intrusion, thighs quaking as he began scissoring you open. Illumi took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, enjoying your breathy moans and the noises coming from your sopping cunt. "Feels good, doesn't it.", he chuckled as your hips began rutting against his palm, "I think we both know what'll feel much better, though.".

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

Before you could reach your high, Illumi pulled his fingers from your cunt. Without a second of hesitation, he shoved those same fingers into your throat as he pulled you down onto his cock, allowing very little protest as your pelvises met abruptly. More tears welled behind your lash line as you adjusted to the stretch of him overfilling your pussy, tip nuzzled snuggly against your cervix and g-spot. "Filthy fucking whore.", he spat as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and began manhandling you up the expanse of his shaft, "My filthy fucking whore.".

You cried out in pleasure as he pulled you back down, setting a quick and unforgiving rhythm. Illumi watched your tits bounce beneath the fabric of your top ruefully as he continued to use you like a doll. He growled as he tugged at its neckline, hips bucking up into you as it freed your breasts with a loud rip. You shivered as Illumi leaned forward to take one of your nipples between his teeth, gently tugging at it before swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. He continued his ministrations, switching between left and right, with a single hand keeping a bruising grip on your hip while the other busied itself by rolling your clit between its thumb and index finger.

Illumi felt your soft walls flutter around him and he groaned into your skin, pulling your body impossibly closer to his. He released your tit with a loud pop, hips pistoning his cock into you faster as he licked a stripe up your chest and neck. It didn't take him long to find your pulse, suckling over the skin while imagining just how sweet you'd taste. Soon, his cock was throbbing in perfect time with your moans, his high growing closer and closer the more you called out his name and begged him to slow down. Instead, he removed himself from your neck, pulling your forehead against his to lock eyes with you.

The air between and around you quickly grew tense, a steady thrum of energy bringing you closer to your high as Illumi's dark eyes melted into a bloody, crimson shade. "Cum for me.", he moaned into your mouth, head dipping to pierce your skin with his fangs. Without warning, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, curses and pleas tumbling from your lips as the stinging pain of being bitten melded into overwhelming pleasure. Your mind grew numb as you came, your arousal spraying over Illumi's lap as he drank you in. And you let him, body trembling and unable to come down from the violent high he'd brought upon you.

You've got my body, flesh, and bone

The sky above, the earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

A taste of the divine

Illumi released your neck after a long moment, tongue lapping up a few stray beads of blood as he pulled your hips flush against his and filled you with his seed. Another tremor crept down your spine at the sudden hot, sticky substance filling your womb, Illumi whispering sweet nothings and pretty vows into your ear to coax you out of the trance he'd locked you in. You blinked once, then twice, to clear the white spots and tears from your vision.

"There you are, little one.~", he purred before placing a kiss on the now bruising bite mark he'd given you, "Was afraid I lost you for a second.". All you could do was whimper, slumping forward to rest your head in the crook of his shoulder. Your scent faintly mingled with sex and iron filled his nostrils, tempting him to finish draining and breeding you. He let you rest, though, leaning back into the chair with his cock still plugging you full as he, too, drifted into sleep for the first time in centuries.

Besides, the venom and cum in your system would need time to take effectively.

[0wlprettysavage]

[kedsandtubesocks]

graveyard heart

Post Outbreak!Joel Miller (Hades) x F!Reader

summary: your mom, a FEDRA officer, warned you about the darkness lurking - it arrives as the underworld smuggling king and he is indeed dangerous (but oh so terrifyingly beautiful)

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark themes || dead dove: do not eat. loose retelling of the Hades & Persephone myth, canon divergent, kidnapping, hostage situation, enemies to lovers, age gap (reader’s age not mentioned but is a drinking adult & was a child on outbreak day), dubcon - power dynamics & possible stockholm syndrome, morally gray!Joel, controlling/complicated parental relationship, brief scenes of assault (not from Joel), canon typical violence (gun usage, blood, fights with infected, awful raiders and fireflies), discussion of grief/character deaths, angst with sexual tension, masturbation (f&m), smutty thoughts, finger sucking, cum eating, poetic allusions to smut, light spit kink, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel

word count: 11.6k (i’m sorry)

a/n: HI PLEASE READ & BE AWARE OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS. This is my first stab at darker content for the fandom & I’m a bit nervous, i kindly ask that if this isn’t for you pls just keep scrolling - so i blame my 2014 8tracks hades & persephone playlist for this but here are are lol! this is my piece for @beskarandblasters the pedro pantheon challenge! also the biggest thank you to @pr0ximamidnight & @ahauntedcowboy for being the absolute angels & letting me scream about this lol, now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

(i)

You rarely go outside after curfew, much less to a gathering hosted by smugglers.

Boston had one of the most prolific and stubborn smuggling systems across all the quarantine zones, or so from what you’ve heard. Your mother and the other FEDRA officers had mentioned many times how, once the fireflies were extinguished, the smugglers were the next to go.

Especially the man in charge of the entire network.

Known as the most prolific and notorious smuggler, no FEDRA officer has even seen him.

The ruler of the smugglers, the king of the underworld.

Now, you’re here at a secret warehouse gathering apparently hosted by the illusive man.

It’s rather impressive. Outside is a large warehouse, decayed and ancient. Inside, the old office spaces were gutted out to create a new building. Commotion radiates from it.

The underground world was painted to be something out of a terrifying horror story. The parties had been urban legends whispered around the QZ. Your oldest friend had urged you to finally sneak away to one.

“This will be your fun night out to celebrate your new big adult job!” She had argued. “And besides, you need to live a little. Don’t worry about your mom, just enjoy having fun for once!”

Your mom. If she knew you were here she’d pop a blood vessel or worse.

But your friend is right. You want to experience more, don’t want to feel stuck under your mom’s watch forever.

Panic still crawls over you though, like at any minute your mother might walk in and scream your name catching you.

“Y’okay there?”

You didn’t realize you’d be dazed out for so long until a voice draws you out of your thoughts.

The accent is so strikingly thick, a drawl you don’t hear often. The man standing by the mixture of the homebrewed moonshine takes your breath away.

Ruggedly handsome, with a beautiful striking nose, older and wearing the lines of age gracefully with his gray hair, he seems brewed of something fierce and wildly beautiful.

You almost feel too stunned to talk, but manage to blurt out an apology.

“Yeah I’m good, just never seen a party like this.” You admit.

The man hums a bored sort of noise before he nudges towards the table.

“Want anything?” He offers, and nodding you tell him to surprise you.

Even with a scruffy glare on his face, the man’s eyebrows raise ever slightly, surprised.

The drink he hands you is harsh, stings your nose, isn’t anything like the liquor you’ve drank with your mom. You even cough at its harsh taste.

“Don’t tell me you never drank before.” The mystery man’s voice sounds offended.

“I’ve drank before.” You fire back. “Just never anything like this.”

The man’s dark rust colored eyes survey you, actually scan you up and down, making your skin tighten, feeling strangely judged and exposed.

He takes a sip of his own drink, yet his gaze continues watching you.

“So ya lost? Is that how you ended up here?” His words are simple, cold, and a frown tugs at your lips.

“My friend was invited, decided to tag along.” Your reply is blunt

“Your friend,” he nods. “And they’re where?”

Notorious for being a roamer, even when you were younger, you’re not surprised your friend wandered away for a moment.

“Guess just went to enjoy the rest of the party.”

“It ain’t a party.” The man says deep.

“There’s alcohol, people enjoying half ass drinking games, this looks like a party.” You shrug surprisingly braver. Guess the home brewed alcohol did that.

This mystery man’s face scrunches up, like he’s annoyed with you. He simply just takes another sip of his drink.

Apologizing low, you also thank him again for the drink and decide to exit. The man doesn’t stop you. Now you go looking for your friend peeking around the party. No sign of her.

Slightly worried, you check outside.

What you discover petrifies you on sight. Your best friend tries to leave from the shadow of the guy she’s talking to. Before she can leave, his hands grab her arms, a dark prison refusing to let her go. With full force he slams her against the wall. A small scream escapes her, and fear drowns her eyes while the guy grins demonically.

You rush over fast. All you have is the drink on hand, but once you’re close enough you slam the hard plastic right against the man’s face.

He screams in pain at the sudden attack.

“Leave her the fuck alone!” You scream not caring you’re being loud. You scurry to grab your friend quickly.

“You little fucking cunt!” The attacker roars and turns to you. Wild blood streams down his nose.

He swings his fist, and you try to escape the path of impact. But it still lands a solid hard hit against the side of your head. A scream comes from your friend and everything stings. You try remembering the self defense training your mom tried drilling into you.

Until a hard impact cracks in the air.

You blink into focus. Your assailant is now on the ground.

And the grumpy mystery man you met stands above with a bloody knuckle.

He’s the one who punched the guy.

“What the fuck man?! Fucking bitch hit me first!” The bastard on the floor screams.

“Get the fuck outta here. Or else.” The mystery man barks.

The guy on the floor’s eyes go wide, like he’s finally taking in the man above. Even in the dark, you witness terror rise fast across the guy’s face.

In a possessed panic, the assailant snaps up and simply leaves.

Your head throbs where the hit landed, yet your eyes stay stuck on the man who came to rescue you.

A soft voice suddenly eases in, and you’re met with a striking older woman.

“Come on, let’s get you both back inside.” Her name is Tess, and she holds a sharp grace to her as she guides everyone to the makeshift kitchen.

You want to help your best friend clean up, but Tess orders you to sit down and reassures she’ll take care of your friend in one of the bathrooms.

“You need to sit and get your head checked out.” Your friend tells you, worried.

Before you can even move to follow her and Tess, your scruffy savior waltzes in.

“Sit down.” He barks at you and moves to grab a cooled bottle to hold against your head.

You hiss when the cold glass touches your head.

“You smashed the shit outta that drink into that fucker’s nose.” The man begins with a gruff mutter. “Got a lot more fight in ya than y’look.”

You snort.

“I just acted fast that’s all…” you mumble back.

Turning to the man, you earnestly thank him. However, his deep eyes, almost the color of ancient rust, already stare at you. His gaze is intense, sharply piercing.

“So why do you guys even throw parties? Does your boss know it doesn’t seem safe.” You comment.

“Mainly to show off the products we got.” The man explains gruffly.

Made sense.

“Wait, is your hand okay?” You suddenly blurt out remembering the blood staining his knuckles.

“M’fine.” He answers and moves his hand away before you can try examining it.

Footsteps walk into the room, and Tess returns. Her eyes gleam soft.

“Your friend’s doing good, actually making jokes and everything.”

Relief floods in.

This may be the sign to head home. It would take a lot to sneak back to your best friends’ apartment, especially this late.

“Headin’ out?” The man asks when you return from checking in on your friend.

You nod weakly.

“Don’t. It’s late. Plus we got space in the back you two can crash in.” Tess reassures, and you graciously thank her.

“Don’t thank me, Joel was the one who offered.” She grins nudging the man.

Joel, his name - it’s beautiful.

Joel glares terrifyingly hard at her. Tess simply shrugs.

So you thank Joel, even use his name. This serious but stunning man doesn’t say anything and instead walks towards the other door.

“Come on.” He suddenly commands. You and your friend rapidly follow him.

Just as promised there are rooms safely tucked away. Though room is a gracious term with the stacks of various boxes and rusty cluttered furniture, but you won’t complain.

Joel says nothing, simply shows you the room then leaves.

“He’s weird as fuck.” Your friend whispers. You had to agree.

Even in this back room space the hum of the party continues to leak in. The lights from the hallway become a sliver under the door.

Soon enough boots thump outside the door, and your eyes creak open. From the light under the door a shadow moves. You’re worried for a moment until a darker shadow goes to rest against the door.

More footsteps, lighter ones, come.

“Gonna sit there all night? You’ll get a creak in your fucking neck.” Tess.

“Just get back to the party.” Joel.

His voice rumbles back, and you feel wide awake now.

He’a staying in front of the door, keeping watch.

You don’t know this man, just met him tonight. But you’re comforted knowing he’s here. Safety is hard to find in this world. Yet soft residuals of it seem to reside buried within Joel.

When you wake up however, he’s gone nowhere to be found.

On the walk home, your best friend is thankfully upbeat.

“You know,” she comments. “I’m actually kinda a little bummed we didn’t get to meet the scary head smuggler guy.”

You laugh, a dark humored type thing.

“Yeah me too, but after last night I’m kind of glad.” You agree.

You might not have met the infamous smuggler kingpin, but meeting Joel felt precious in its own strange way.

(ii)

You run into Joel again - literally bump into him.

Trying to put all the papers and books into your bag, you step outside the school and collide into a hard body. But instead of stumbling and falling back, firm hands steady you. All your items still drop.

Something fierce constricts your throat when you focus on who you ran into.

Joel, a very grouchy Joel.

You immediately ramble out a mess of apologies while you try picking up everything. Joel silently crouches down to help gather your fallen items.

“You’re a teacher.” He notes with a gruff low rumble.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just started this week…Someone’s gotta teach the kids what the water cycle is.” You joke.

He snorts very faintly, and your heart jumps.

The handsome man has been in your mind ever since the party. Now he’s materialized here.

Your mom calls your name walking out of the building.

In her commander FEDRA officer uniform, you hate more than ever that she’s wearing it.

“Who’s this?!” Her eyes immediately flicker suspiciously to Joel as she smiles politely.

“Someone I just ran into that’s all.” You quickly answer.

Rapidly you turn back to Joel and politely thank him again for helping pick up your scattered papers.

Joel statically nods. But you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow at your mom before he leaves.

Your mother doesn’t seem to pay him any mind, not bothered by a stranger. A very FEDRA Trait.

When your first late night working at the school comes, that has your mom worried.

“I can call in and walk you home once you’re done.” She urges.

You’re an adult. You’ve faced scarier things. After much persistence, thankfully your mother begrudgingly relents.

The sky looks beautiful when you step out of the building. You can’t see the stars often from here but still feel comforted seeing a few twinkles above.

“Keep staring off like that and you’re gonna bump into someone again.”

The familiar gruff voice jolts your heart into overdrive. When your focus whips back to earth, Joel stands a few steps away.

“Fancy running into you again.” You beam, feeling your heart flutter at the sight of him.

Joel shrugs. “My way back from work came this way again.”

“Mind some company?” He nudges his chin towards you and you quickly, embarrassingly fast, you welcome him to join you.

Joel falls into step besides you.

You ask about how his day went, and he shrugs simply saying it’s been fine.

“So, your mom’s a FEDRA officer.” He suddenly comments.

You had a feeling he’d mention it. You almost want to make a joke that she just stole the uniform. But it’s hard with how Joel’s gaze seems to simply pierce through whatever he sets his eyes onto.

“I promise,” you blurt. “I haven’t told her about the party or anything.”

Joel nods, silent again.

Abruptly he stops walking. You do as well. The soft evening lights color the streets a dingy muted gray. The curfew call would arrive soon. There’s already barely anyone on the street.

He sighs turning to you. That sword's sharp piercing gazes of his makes you worried.

“This is my stop here.” He nudges to the apartment complex across the street. “But can walk ya home, if you want.”

You exhale relieved, even find fondness sneaks in.

“Oh no, it’s okay, it’s late anyway.” You earnestly thank him.

Suddenly a hand swings across your face out from behind. A cloth covers your mouth. Before you can even scream your eyes flicker heavy.

Joel is the last blurred sight you see before darkness overcomes you.

Groggily opening your eyes, you’re now in a barren basement type room lying on a mattress on the floor. Immediately you spot Tess. Then you notice a man with a large rifle standing by the door.

“What the fuck happened?!” You scream.

“Hey, relax.” Tess says eased. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal?! What the fuck do you do to me?! Why am I here?!”

Before she can answer you, Joel waltzes into the room. The room shadows paint him a terrifying creature who stares at you hard.

“Look,” Joel’s voice is cold, unwavering steel. “I’m gonna be straight with ya. We ain’t doing shit to you. Just need your mom to make FEDRA give us what we want.”

Your eyes go wide.

You’re being held as a hostage.

Before anything else can be said, another man steps in.

“Sorry boss, but we’re getting word there’s chatter on the coms.” The man explains to Joel.

He nods then glances over to you from his shoulder.

“Y’don’t do anything fucking stupid and we might all make it out of this alright.” That’s all Joel says then exits.

The man with the gun nods to him almost as a sign of respect.

Even though so many thoughts buzz around in your head like angry wasps, it clicks fast.

It’s Joel.

Joel is the infamous underworld smuggling king.

(iii)

The rest of the day is a blur. You’re left alone and cry into your hands until it hurts. The man with the gun standing guard outside your door doesn’t seem to care. Tess at one point returns with cleaner clothes, even offers you a shower and a meal, but you stay silent.

Some of the smugglers pop their head into your room, curious about the new hostage.

“Aw, you’re too pretty to cry.” One of them grins.

“Yeah there’s someone else I could give ya to cry about.” Another snickers disgustingly, and you want to crawl into yourself.

Joel barks a hard loud yell.

“Any of you fuckers so much as even looks in there again or even dares touch her, you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with me, understand?!” Joel commands, a god among chaos.

It’s not entirely comforting, but it’s enough.

Not a soul walks by your room after that.

Later that night Joel comes with rations and more water.

“Y’need to eat something.” He suggests. You don’t even move to touch the food.

Joel sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“I’m doing this to find my brother, simple as that. Need FEDRA to give us a good car or even a battery at best to get us on the road.” Joel explains sharply, methodically.

All of this for his brother. The love of a family member in exchange for the love of another. You understand, even can sympathize, but you hated this still, hated him.

With thorny malice, you glare hard at Joel staying silent.

He frowns harder, and it highlights his wrinkles. Joel doesn’t say anything, simply clenches his jaw and leaves the room.

In the room’s solitude, you try formulating a plan. If you just get a gun you can maybe make your way out of this place.

Whatever this place is, it’s the central base. It’s hard not to listen to all the commotion and talk done in the other room. The smuggling empire is terrifyingly impressive. From what you’ve caught there’s multiple routes and tunnels that operate for different means. Some smuggle in necessities like food or medicine, while others provide arms.

Joel orders and strategizes it all. Tess is just as in charge and orders commands as well.

“You should eat.” Suddenly the guard on the other side of your open door suggests.

You’re almost tempted to throw the rations out the door.

A sudden explosion cracks above and the ground rattles. The air stills, and everything shifts.

“Fireflies!” Someone screams.

This is your chance. In the rush of the commotion and the echo of gunshots, you hope to escape.

You’re left alone.

This is it. Adrenaline pumps through you fast as you frantically search for an exit, a gun, anything. But the chaos swirls fast. More yelling arrives underground, and gunshots fire off closer.

But your legs start buckling, and your eyes start getting foggy too. Fear comes fast. Did they maybe drug you?

No. You just realize…you haven’t eaten this entire day.

Now it’s getting hard to walk.

Stumbling, barely keeping focus, you lean against the wall. Your body feels like it’s going to crumble.

“Oh, look what we have here.” Someone coos. A shadow soon falls over you. “Fuck didn’t know the smugglers had someone this cute.”

This can’t be happening.

Your lips tremble while fighting back tears, can’t even focus on who’s around you.

“Maybe we can keep her as a nice treat.” Another voice laughs, and your stomach feels sick.

A gunshot rings into the hallway. A body collides so hard and fast on the floor it makes your vision focus. Crimson spills onto the concrete. When you snap your focus aware another firefly man screams in anger until Joel takes him down with ease.

Disrobed relief spills into you. Joel’s here.

In this fucked up moment you’re about to cry grateful because he’s here.

But your vision blurs more, and your body feels light.

Then your world again goes dark.

Sunlight this time wakes you up.

Panic causes you to bolt up fast, but the dizziness hits you. Hissing, you steady yourself.

“Don’t get up too fast.” Joel’s dull voice speaks from the abyss.

You’re in a small apartment now, or the decaying barebones of one. In one small room is the kitchen and a living room. You rest on the couch while Joel sits at the table.

“What happened?” You ask with a croak.

Joel nudges to the small dusty coffee table where water and rations sit waiting for you.

This time you don’t hesitate to snag them.

Joel explains all that happened. The fireflies attacked the tunnels for supplies, and it spilled into the base.

“Used the underground tunnels to make it outside the QZ. Then, came here to a safe house.” He finishes.

“Where’s Tess?” You ask.

“Stayed back. Need someone to communicate to me how the deal’s going.” You suddenly notice the radio sitting on the countertop.

“So it’s just you and me.” You mutter.

“Un-fuckin’ fortunately.” Joel replies with a hard scowl.

Your mind tries to settle now.

You’re in a home in the middle of fuck knows where. Your hope of maybe escaping is not as bright as it was in the underground compound. So you steadily resolve yourself to accept this situation. Your mother will come. She will find a way to make the deal and you’ll be back home.

When you finally glance out the window you discover you’re on the outskirts of the QZ.

Infected roam here.

“Shouldn’t we head back into the QZ?” You ask worried.

“And have you turnin’ my fuckin’ ass in? No way in hell.” Joel glares at you.

“Infected are out here.” You snap fierce.

“And you got me. Won’t need to worry ‘bout ‘em.” He says simply.

It isn’t that reassuring, but you think of how he’s proven himself already to be rather sturdy even for his age.

“So are we just gonna wait until we hear something?”

“Yeah.” Joel answers with a deadly deadpan that refuses to leave room up for any discussion.

The space stays in a tense thickness until the radio flickers to life scaring the shit out of you.

Tess over the radio gives an update. Still no word from FEDRA. Instead she goes into discussing work with Joel.

They talk in code, use numbers and different colors to describe things. But at one point they let the code slip. You piece it together easily. They work with FEDRA officers to get certain supplies. You knew FEDRA wasn’t squeaky clean, even argued about it with your mom. But this just solidifies the murkiness of it all.

None of them have a car or battery to give.

Joel ends up falling asleep in the chair at the tabled hands crossed over his chest. You now snoop around the place quietly. There’s an extra backpack for you as well as various contraband items still waiting to be delivered.

You silently steal one of the liquor bottles and place it stealthily in your bag.

You also unpack what’s in the bag.

The change of clothes Tess had first offered you, a few rations, a flashlight. No weapon though. You do spot flint, and that’s slightly reassuring.

The sun starts to dwindle. You need to rest. It’s obvious you’re not going anywhere for a while. So returning to the couch you close your eyes.

Then the howl of a clicker wakes you.

Instinctual primordial terror has your eyes snapping open wide in fear. Before you can move, you discover Joel beside you. Even in the dark you see a finger raised up to his lips.

Keep quiet.

You nod, sealing your lips tight.

The ominous clicking noise rattle outside the hall. You almost miss it with how loudly your heart hammers in your ears. The infected’s chatter sounds fainter as it wanders down the hallway.

You exhale through your nose, hopeful this means the infected is close to maybe leaving.

Until the radio flickers to life blaring a tune.

Horror collides into you fast. The clicker roars. Joel acts immediately raising his gun to shoot the radio silent. But it’s too late. The infected screeches, rushing down the hallway with violent steps until it rams into the door with full force. You hold back a scream.

Joel fires at the door, and a loud thud follows.

“Come on!” he snaps, scrambling to get up.

More would come. You slide the backpack on, and instantly follow Joel in a frantic rush.

Heart racing, you stay close to Joel while the two of you rush to escape out of the apartment complex. Screeches of more infected approach.

The night is dark, but Joel is surprisingly keen in maneuvering the area. He leads you into another ransacked building and holds his hand up, a silent sign to stop.

You’d be stopping here. You’re glad. All of your body feels weak. You haven’t seen a clicker up close in years. Now fear eats away at the adrenaline.

“We’ll stay here until daybreak.” Joel speaks barely above a whisper. “Get rest while ya can.”

You’re afraid to sleep now. Don’t even want to think about it.

Suddenly he says your name.

It’s the first time he’s ever said it.

He stares somberly, seriously at you. Joel must have seen whatever fear ran across your face. You fully take in the sight of him. Standing tall, his strong rifle in hand, he’s the image of unwavering determination.

“Sleep, I’ll be up.” He orders.

The distrust you hold for his man slowly is ebbing away. You know he’s simply keeping you alive for the bargain, but it’s enough for now. So you sit on the ground, try to just close your eyes and gather yourself together.

Sunlight again wakes you, and Joel continues standing watch.

He glances back to you, and with his stoic stome nature, he nods.

Time to move.

The journey through the debris and fallen memories of Boston is quiet, tense. Joel stays closer to you the entire way.

“Have another safe house just outside the edges of the city limit. We’ll be safe there.” He mutters low and you nod.

The smuggler king leads confidently. Even though you’re still petrified of infected, you take in the sights of the city. The intricate green vines, the lush landscape among the bones of civilization, it’s all a haunting sight, but you also think of how beautiful it is.

“Y’ever been outside the QZ?” Joel suddenly speaks low.

“Once,” you tell him truthfully. You had been a child then and you barely remember the journey.

“So you’ve been in Boston this entire time?” Joel asks now, sounding curious.

You have. It’s why your mom has such a high ranking within FEDRA.

“Your accent…where are you originally from?” You decide to ask questions now too, keeping the same low tone as Joel.

A part of you assumes he won’t answer or will just respond sarcastically.

“Texas.”

You’re surprised he answered.

“You're a long way from home then.”

He hums a noise that sounds like he agrees.

“Must have been a journey to get you all the way to Boston.” You note, now more curious about him.

Joel stays quiet for a moment, then replies with the lowest ‘yeah’ effectively ending the conversation.

Soon the buildings fade away. The forest creeps in denser as the suburbs approach.

At the edge of the neighborhoods, a home sits splintered off inching into the woods. It seems like the perfect secluded safe house base.

The place hasn’t been touched in a while. Leaves scatter across the title floor, and dust covers so much. You’re thankful this has more space than the small apartment. Joel immediately slings his backpack off then opens a door leading down to a basement. You follow him.

“Don’t fuckin’ follow me.” He snips, yet you stay behind him. He doesn’t stop you.

Instead Joel flickers on many camping lanterns and illuminates the basement. The stockpile here is barren, hardly any weapons or canned goods. Of course a radio sits on the table. Joel flickers to life, but no one answers when he sends his Morse code clicks. His face grows dark with worry.

“Please get me if you hear anything from my mom.” You finally say quietly.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees somber.

It’s enough for now.

Two days pass. No sounds come from the radio. You and Joel walk around each other on egg shells and rarely speak. It’s suffocating. So you rummage around the house to find something to do, anything.

You find a deck of cards and it feels like a gift from above.

Quietly in the living room, you set up a lone game of solitaire on the coffee table. Or patience, as your mom loved to call it when she taught you how to play. Seems perfect to play now. You flip through the cards, placing them at the correct spots and columns.

“Solitaire?” Joel’s voice surprises you. But what shocks you even more is him moving to sit on the floor.

“You play?” You question.

“Not in a while, play other card games like poker or black jack.”

“I play blackjack.” You perk up, and Joel’s eyebrows rise slightly shocked.

You hand him the deck, cleaning up the rest of the cards and start a new game with him.

The game is tense at first, like you and him are still trying to navigate the thick tension. You peek at your cards and he glances at his.

He wins the first game, but now you’re determined.

Eventually you and him get sucked into playing. So many matches pass that when you win Joel pouts, throwing his cards down.

You burst out laughing. It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve laughed, and it’s freeing.

“You’re a sore loser.” You tease.

“I ain’t.” Joel rumbles back, scowling harder.

“Mhm, yeah sure. There’s a candyland box nearby I can get to prove you are.” You surprisingly joke, buoyant.

Joel shakes his head.

“I’ll show ya who’s a sore fuckin’ loser when I beat your ass at poker.”

“I don’t know how to play poker. Go Fish or nothing else.” You shrug.

Then, Joel snorts. It’s not a laugh, not even anything special, but it eases the strain among you and him even more. He starts shuffling the deck and hands out the cards to you.

With the most stern of voices, so seriously Joel, he asks if you have any sevens.

You laugh into your hand.

“I’m being fuckin’ serious!” He snaps.

You laugh even harder.

In this fucked up moment, in this murky situation, this brightens your soul.

A week passes.

Over the radio you hear Tess tell Joel flat out how heavy it’s gotten in the city.

“The fucking fireflies…FEDRA, everything, it’s gotten fucking insane… we might not get the car, or even the fucking battery Joel. We need to think of a plan b.”

Your stomach twists sick. Where was your mom? And what would happen if they decide you’re not worth the hassle anymore.

Shakily you head into the bathroom and sob into your hands trying to stay as quiet as you can.

Soon you’re a shell of yourself.

When you step back outside however, you’re resolved. Instead of the basement, Joel now waits in the kitchen, and his eyes widen seeing you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice picks up with a wind of worry.

“Joel.” You begin calmly and somber. “Be honest with me…”

You ask him the question that’s been haunting you.

What will become of you if FEDRA doesn’t hold up their bargain? If even your mom can’t follow through?

“Will…you get rid of me?” You speak soft, without even having to divulge more, but the festering rotting truth lies under your words.

The silence feels sharpened.

Joel quietly speaks first.

“No. Won’t do that to ya.” He mutters.

You don’t know if he’s lying or telling the truth.

You and Joel simply stare at each other. So much hangs tangled and barbed between you and him.

All you can do is simply nod. You swear his eyes soften for just a moment.

Another week passes. No signs or commotion from FEDRA. It’s beginning to feel like you’re in a room slowly filling with water, like you’re on borrowed time.

But you manage to pass the days with Joel through more card games. You try playing Pictionary with him, but his attempt at drawing a dog looks like a camel, and you laugh so hard at how badly he pouts.

It’s becoming amicable now, you and him.

But supplies are running low. Joel doesn’t sugar coat that harsh truth.

“There’s another stop we can go to from here, but I’m hoping we won’t need to.” He’s still waiting, hoping for FEDRA to answer.

Eventually the night settles in, and you’re surprised he joins you for another card game.

Right now you and him try another game of poker. You’ve come to learn you are not very good, which is also why you think Joel likes playing it knowing he wins.

“So how does a Texan far from home become the king of smugglers?” You try to ease the air by pushing more conversation with him.

“Just something that happened honestly,” Joel mutters, passing out the weathered cards.

“Got involved with my brother back when we started traveling outta Texas and just…never stopped.” He reveals.

“Your brother, he’s the one you’re looking for…” You remember.

“Yeah.” Joel agrees low.

“I hope you find him.” Gathering the cards dealt to you, you mean those words.

“Thanks…hope we can get ya back home.” A hint of sincerity leaks into Joel's voice and you appreciate that.

You’re about to deal your hand when rustling comes from outside. Glancing out the window, you try to find something among the dark shadows.

“What?” Joel asks fast and low.

“I don’t know… thought I heard something.” You mumble.

In that same breath, bullets fly through the window, shattering everything. The moment unfolds in a flurry of chaos.

“Raiders!” Joel shouts while you and him try to stay low. You crawl towards your bag.

The door gets kicked in and your heart races fast. Even as you and Joel scramble to maybe get down to the basement it's hard with the commotion rushing in.

Joel is swift with his gun, but the raiders keep coming.

Windows shatter further in the back of the house. They’re infesting. Time to leave. It’s a rapid rush to get outside. Before running into the woods, you stop to rummage in your bag finally remembering something important.

“The fuck are ya doing?!” Joel screams with a snarl.

You act fast. You rip a piece of your shirt edge, and grab the alcohol you stole along with the flint.

“Shit.” Joel breathes out realizing what you’re doing.

You’ve seen plenty of these, just never believed you’d ever make one.

Cloth in the liquid, Joel moves to help you light the flint.

Then when fire sparks catches onto the strip of clothing you stand up.

The adrenaline sets you ablaze. You throw the bottle with all your might. It manages to collide against the house’s porch. Soon the world is engulfed in a vibrant orange flame, a hellfire right before you.

Screams of raiders mix with the flames.

“Come on.” Joel urges and grabs your hand.

A rush of footsteps comes and it’s too late to react.

Something hard hits the side of your face. You cry in pain falling to the ground. The world spins on itself. Everything is disoriented. Your face throbs so bad, and you cough through the tears stinging your eyes. The sound of Joel firing off his gun again comes.

Then his hands steady you up.

“Y’okay darlin’?” He asks frantic and you nod, tired.

“Let’s go.” Joel grabs your hand again. This time don’t let it go.

Even arriving at the abandoned gas station deemed safe to stay, you don’t let his hand go. He doesn’t yell at you about it.

Instead Joel sits besides you, flush against your side.

Against the shadowed darkness of the old building, you hold his hand firm in his and he doesn’t let go either.

You wake up first this time and find your head slumped against Joel’s shoulder, resting against him now. His head also rests on top of yours.

This is new.

But then again, so was the term he used for you. You wonder if you just imagined it.

Unlike now, this is very real. You’ve never been this close to him, can smell the faintest traces of him, musky and dark. He snores. His hair tickles against your head, but you don’t want to move.

If anything you close your eyes again hoping for a few more minutes of peace. Joel eventually shifts, waking you both up. Nothing is said about the sleeping positions.

Then he turns to you, and his face falls.

Immediately Joel moves closer. Delicately one of his hands moves to your chin to examine your cheek.

“Does it hurt?” He asks gently and you shake your head.

Not as much. You know there’s probably an ugly bruise, but it could be worse. You’re grateful this is all you have.

“You should’ve seen the other guy.” You darkly joke.

Joel scoffs a small noise, maybe the echo of a laugh.

“So… Should I be worried about anything else you might’ve stolen?” His dry tone doesn’t sound upset.

You promise the bottle is all you took.

Joel hums, nodding.

“You continue to keep surprisin’ me.” His words are softer than he’s ever sounded

Now you realize, Joel is closer than ever before too. His face intensely scowled up now stares directly at you.

You drink in the sight of the king of the smugglers this close. The sun spots on his face, the age lines along his gorgeous features, it’s hard to deny how stunning he is.

After yesterday night it’s like you’re reminded raw and fierce how dangerous, but gorgeous of a man Joel is.

You think of the party you first met Joel. You remember thinking how you felt the remnants of safety, of protection that Joel showed then.

You should hate him. You wouldn’t be in these situations if it wasn’t for him. But when you ask yourself if you would rather be in the QZ, the truth is a distorted answer you might not be ready to face.

Without a word Joel whips around and moves to sling his backpack on better.

“Come on, let’s head out.” He announces.

You stay close to his side.

You expected another silent journey. However, the warmth of the day, the stretch of houses blurring more into the woods brings Joel out of his shell.

He talks about the Texas heat and how it used to be scorching. Interestingly points out different housing structures, and you learn he used to work as a contractor. Joel even asks about your job working at the school.

“It’s a job.” You say a bit standoffish.

“You don’t like it.” Joel sees right through you instantly.

“My mom likes it.” It’s safe, secure, stable and away from any harm and under the watch of FEDRA.

“What d’ya want to do then?” Joel asks surprisingly patient.

You pause momentarily, and the wind blows across your face.

It’s such a simple silly dream you hold in your heart…

Having your own house, enjoying peace, simply embracing living day to day without any worry about what to do or if your mom would approve.

“To simply be.” You answer. It’s enough for Joel, and you swear you see a faint grin tugging his lips.

The trail transforms into a serene sight, and you’re in awe of the beautiful landscape.

You should be scared that you’re walking away more and more from the QZ, even trusting Joel to follow him. But you’re not. The stretching trees untouched by the city, the edges of summer still peeking through the greenery, it's beautiful.

And getting hear Joel open up more, means more than you care to admit. He talks about this one mix up a couple of his guys made where they mistook baby milk formula powder for cocaine.

“Not Mister Scary Lord of the underworld getting upset over that.” You tease, and it almost feels like flirting.

Joel rolls his eyes. It adds a glowing playfulness to him, like seeing a small glimpse of the man he was before the world ended.

The further from the QZ you go, the deeper and deeper you’re drawn into this endless maze of a man that is Joel.

(iv)

You never believed a place like Bill and Frank’s existed.

Their own personal town is otherworldly. They, mainly Frank, welcome you with warm and glimmering hospitality. They’re both older, slightly around Joel’s age.

“So, what’s a lovely thing like you doing with Joel?” Frank asks jokingly.

“Oh, I’m just a hostage.” You sleepily grin. Frank’s face falls while Bill barks a laugh.

It’s easy to melt into this new world with these two and Joel. You never expected him to have friends like this, and it’s interesting uncovering more facets of him.

Bill barks for you not snoop, but Frank winks reassuringly to make yourself at home. The hot shower is an oasis, and the comfortable bed becomes a cloud.

Well rested, the next day you wander the town. You stay out until it’s dark. No infected, no raiders, no fireflies or no worries… just simply you and the beautiful night sky above.

“Still not payin’ attention to where you’re goin’.” Joel’s voice flutters in.

Along the side of the street he looks dreamy under the soft dark night.

“Can’t help it,” you truthfully say, glancing back up. The stars are too lovely not to admire.

You end up wandering closer to Joel or maybe he walks towards you. It’s too hard to tell.

“You can never see the stars this bright even at the QZ.” You return to admire the stars even with Joel besides you.

If your mom just knew how far you were.

Joel snorts, and you realize you spoke those words aloud. Even though you’re a bit embarrassed you simply shrug.

“It’s true.” You agree.

“Seems like she’s kinda…” Joel trails off.

“Controlling?” You finish, and he nods.

You understand why. She’s seen horrors, lost so much. But you’re an adult, a fully grown one and you’ve seen a fair share of hardships too. You just want to be understanding both to her, and to yourself.

You even explain this to Joel.

“You’re good, maybe too kind.” Joel mutters and you now intrigued turn to him. His eyes twinkle in the dark night more than they ever have. “Don’t seem to see the bad in people.”

Maybe you do. Maybe you understand that people in this world contain fuzzy and hard to decipher multitudes now.

Joel snorts when you tell him that.

“Y’know you’ve been traveling with a one of FEDRA’s top bad guys this whole entire time right?”

You know. Joel even calls himself a thief. But he doesn’t seem as evil as you believed him to be.

Glancing at him, the way the darkness should bring out his shadows. It instead illuminates him like a faint star. You think someone this man can’t be fully evil. Or maybe you’re not as good, blooming and unfolding in the mud to reveal your true nature.

You and Joel simply walk back to Bill and Frank’s in silence.

The radio also stays silent another week.

You’re worried about overstaying your welcome, especially with how hard Bill glares at you like you’re a pest. Frank however, eagerly includes you in so many of his projects and errands.

“Not as young as I used to be.” He teases while tending to one of the gardens, and you readily help as much as you can.

You stare in awe at all the beautiful lush vegetables and plants. There’s even a couple of fruit trees.

“Joel always asks for fruit when he comes for trades.” Frank chuckles.

You never would have expected Bill and Frank to be a part of Joel’s team.

“I know, we don’t seem like the type, or maybe I don’t seem like the type to be helping smugglers.” Frank comments teasing, as if he read your mind.

You quickly stammer out that you don’t mind.

“This world, it’s not as black and white as we think it is. Surviving an apocalypse really does paint everything in a murky gray. Sometimes, it’s okay to just accept that.” Frank explains.

You’re slowly starting to agree more and more with that.

“I know…there’s…a delicate situation going on between you and Joel.” Frank speaks cautiously.

“But I want you to know…that if this is serious, and you don’t feel comfortable with Joel or truly want to go return home, there’s ways we could figure it out.” His tone is serious, truthful and sincere.

His words warm you.

But you swallow hard. In the watch of the peaceful yard you reveal a shadowed truth that’s been building in you.

You don’t know if you want to go back. You know you will have to if FEDRA and your mom honor the trade. But you’re dreading returning to your life under the eyes of the decaying QZ streets, FEDRA, your mother…

And even if you do return there, you can’t imagine going without Joel.

“I just want to make sure he’s safe.” You add quietly.

“You probably think I sound awful or out of my mind.” Then you laugh hollow.

Frank doesn’t reply immediately. You wait for him to judge you.

“I don’t think that at all.” His hand gently pats yours. “I think you’re actually really brave being so honest.”

That brings a thickness in your throat. Frank grins warmly at you, squeezes your hand comfortingly. You soak up his kindness like a flower bud in the sunlight.

However, another day passes with no noise among the picturesque world.

At breakfast you try holding back your laughter while Bill and Frankie aruge over the Wizard of Oz.

Joel, who surprisingly slept in late, emerges to take a seat at the table.

Him and Bill immediately jump into discussion about smuggling routes and new supplies. Frank slowly slips out to the kitchen.

“What day is it?” Joel asks.

Bill simply tells it to Joel, but it’s like a switch is flipped on.

He shoots up out of his chair, doesn’t even care that it topples over or that he slams into the table knocking everything. Bill yells at him fiercely. But Joel storms out of the room leaving everyone in his aftermath.

“What happened?” Frank asks, emerging back into the dining room.

“Joel, being fucking Joel.” Bill sneers.

Frank ignores his husband and turns to you. Explaining what happened, his lovely face frowns instant.

“Oh…oh I forgot about today.” He mutters.

You ask what today means. Frank slides closer to you with his eyes low.

“If I remember right…Today’s Sarah’s birthday.” He answers.

Confusion bubbles up, and you ask who Sarah is.

Frank’s face contorts in shock.

“Sarah…she’s Joel’s daughter that passed away.”

Those words take your breath away and you feel your world tilt on its axis.

Joel was a dad. Joel had a daughter.

You never would have expected. Frank must see the look in your eyes now as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“He doesn’t talk about her much. It’s not your fault you didn’t know.”

You’re left haunted by it all though.

Eventually you get the confidence and bravery enough to find Joel.

Walking around the vacant neighbor, you eventually spot him sitting on the porch step of one of the homes.

“Fuck you doin’ here?” He snaps, but there’s no malice in his voice, only a hollowness.

Standing besides him, you inhale deep.

“My big sister was infected on outbreak day.” You begin.

It happened after school when your mom was talking with your neighbor outside your home. You were still so little, barely remember pieces of it.

But the memories you have are sharp.

You’re in the kitchen, laughing at something your sister says. Suddenly she starts twitching. Then your world ended. You still hear her snarls sometimes, still taste the terror when she tried biting you and how you prayed it was just a game, until the screams of your mom came. It’s simply been you and her ever since.

Joel’s face finally turns to you and his eyes are wide, glossy obsidian gems and so open, so unlike Joel. Yet it’s like you’re seeing a true layer of him.

“I’m so sorry about your daughter Joel. That pain of loss never really leaves and I get it.” You carry your big sister’s ghost with you now.

Joel doesn’t say anything, instead clenches his jaw and blinks away the shimmering gloss reflecting in his eyes.

“It ain’t the same.” He suddenly snaps back. “You never felt the pain of losin’ a child.”

You feel insulted.

“Loss is still a loss Joel. Don’t you dare say my hurt is less than yours. What would your daughter say?” You snap back.

You know that’s not a kind thing to say. It galvanizes Joel. He bolts up and becomes a terrifying looming force that pierces you where you stand.

His voice silence is deadly, slices through you.

There’s so much you want to say to hurt him, but what good will it do. You simply blink away tears and walk away, leaving Joel to his ache as you try to quell yours.

Trying to settle your emotions, you end up walking around the ghost town and spot various glorious wildflowers, blooms so vibrantly colorful. You grab as many as you can.

Back at the house, Frank brightens immediately seeing the flowers in your hands.

“I got just the vase for them!”

Frank asks if you picked these for yourself and you shake your head.

“For those who have passed, and for Sarah.” Your answer.

Frank doesn’t say anything but instead nods, a silent understanding.

You head back to the guest room to try taking a nap. You accidentally left the door open partially, and soon enough Joel’s arrival lumbers into the grand home.

“Bill get those for you?” He notices the flowers.

Frank snorts. “You know Bill wouldn’t.”

He instead clarifies you did.

“For today…for Sarah.” Frank then adds.

Joel is quiet. You close your eyes and now drift into the flickering world between falling asleep and being aware.

You swear you faintly hear the door creak open more, catch the faint smell of cedar, and feel delicate but callous fingers run across your face.

But when you open your eyes, no one is in the room.

It’s like nothing happened between you or Joel the next morning. He even helps you and Frank outside harvesting some of the ripe new fruit.

“Can't handle Bill’s grumpy ass anymore.” Joel explains.

“Two grumpies together might just be too much.” You tease. Joel glares dully at you. Frank snickers amused.

You perk up bright seeing the lovely apples on the tree.

“Go ahead! Try one!” Frank eagerly urges and you do.

You haven’t had fresh apples in years. Your eyes close in bliss tasting sweet heaven and you munch away.

Suddenly a thick thumb runs against your cheek and your eyes snap open.

“Sorry. Got some on your cheek.” Joel clarifies drawing his hand away.

He suddenly draws it into his mouth to have a taste. You feel a bit dizzy but in a way that makes your stomach flip.

Joel’s eyes go wide, momentarily realizing what he did. Without another word, he bolts.

You and Frank are left staring at each other stunned.

The rest of the day Joel stays glued to the radio in Bill’s workshop.

Later that night your fingers crawl silently under the sheets, under your underwear, and you imagine what Joel would feel like. This man that’s taken you away from your home - you should feel guilty and ashamed, even horrified at this. But instead you only find an ache for more for his fingers to replace yours.

But even among the decadent desires you indulge in more and more…

Another week passes.

You and Joel share a somberness, slowly facing the harsh truth.

You may not be returning home.

“I want us to have a nice dinner tonight!” Frank must sense it too because he declares a bright order.

“So that means new outfits and everyone taking a good shower!” Frank insists proudly showing you to the clothing boutique the town has.

You end up grabbing the softest looking sundress. It’s delicate, fits comfortably on you and even makes you feel brand new.

Especially after taking another warm shower with the homemade lavender soap Frank gave you as another gift. Bill seems to be warming up to you. He even makes a dull joke about you taking a shorter shower than Joel.

When Joel does emerge from the shower, something shifts in you. His wet slicked back hair highlights all his silver streaks. In the new button up shirt Frank shoved at him and ordered him to wear, he’s gorgeous.

The terrifying ruler of a smuggling empire, now just a man who seems almost embarrassed, fidgets because you stare at him so directly.

Dinner is thankfully wonderful.

At some point you realize the role of hostage, of someone kidnapped, doesn’t feel so barbed. You now roam freely without any fear. Laugh warmly at the stories Frank tells that makes Bill scoff and Joel roll his eyes.

You insist on cleaning up to let Bill and Frank enjoy the nice evening to themselves.

In the kitchen you gather the plates until the door creaks open behind.

“Needed to get away from Bill’s god damn glarin’ st me being the third wheel.” Joel huffs.

Smirking, you find Joel effortlessly begins putting away dishes, helping.

It’s peaceful. In another life you wonder if this could have been a regular evening, in a house you owned…with someone you cared for.

Someone who you hate looks eerily like Joel.

You shift to go grab something just as he moves, and the two of you gently collide. It’s nothing extreme, but Joel’s hand moves to steady you against your lower back.

“Sorry.” He mutters, and your eyes flicker to him. He’s close again. So close you can almost smell the rosemary and pine soap among a scent so deeply Joel. He doesn't move yet. Neither do you.

That’s when you catch it, Joel’s deep rust eyes glance away from your gaze and towards your lips.

You wonder if maybe you’re seeing things, or have something on your face. But his hand against your back feels warm, steady, like you never want it to leave. His face ever so slightly begins to pull closer towards you.

You don’t want this to stop.

But Bills footsteps clamor to the kitchen. It electrifies both you and Joel causing him to scurry out of the kitchen.

That night you’re unable to sleep.

Frank always offered his collection of books for you to browse through. You decide to glance around and hope something sparks your interest.

That’s when a muffled groan floats out into the hallway.

Curiosity and a hint of worry has you walking back towards the rooms.

A choked out sigh comes from Joel’s room and the world melts away.

You need to go back to your room, even head back to the living room.

But you instead lean closer and find the door is slightly cracked like Joel thought he closed it but didn’t.

You faintly hear it, the sound of him jerking off. His soft sighs, his hand rubbing out his cock, it makes your mouth dry and water at the same time.

You’re no better than a creepy pervert, but you can’t help it.

Joel’s hand speeds up faster and now your wet core begs for attention already.

Then his climax hits with a deep loud groan, and it’s delicious.

You shift trying to quell the heat crawling all over your body.

But Joel sighs.

And he says your name.

It’s clear, steals your breath.

Maybe it’s been this recent journey that’s reminded you how short this life is… but whatever galvanized energy it is, it surges through you to move and push into Joel’s room.

Oh he’s a sight.

Your mouth waters seeing his cock, thick, beautiful and messy before it’s covered by the blanket.

Joel scrambles up petrified. “What the fuck y’doing here?!”

“You said my name,” you whisper slowly creeping towards him while shutting the door behind you.

“You’re hearin’ shit.” He barks low, angry and harsh.

You swallow hard.

“I think about you too… whenever I touch myself.” You admit barely above a whisper.

Joel’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline, but immediately he coughs as if he got punched.

“Go back to your room.” He urges, but it’s not persistent. You shake your head no, and now arrive against the side of his bed.

“We… you…this shouldn’t be happenin’.” He urges.

“You say you’re a thief, that you’re the bad guy here,” you mutter posessed. “Maybe I am too.”

“Darlin’” Joel breathes out that sacred term, the one you’ve prayed to hear again.

Confidence surges through you more toxic than any other poison.

“Maybe I wanna take for once,” you whisper, moving onto the bed. Your eyes glance to the wet white sticky mess against Joel’s stomach and his hand that he didn’t cover.

Your mouth aches to taste him.

So flickering your gaze to Joel, it’s a cautious moment and what you’re about to do can fall apart in a minute. But your hand moves delicately, cautious. Your eyes stay on Joel, waiting for him to tell you no or react.

But he doesn’t.

You grab his cum covered hand still keeping your eyes on him. Until you glance down at his hand, his calloused beautiful large hand.

He still hasn’t pulled away or made a noise to stop you.

Tentatively you lick up his fingers, tasting his release.

“Fuck!” Joel barks out a harsh hiss.

You’re worried he’s going to yank his hand away, but he doesn’t. He instead sits up more like he’s been electrocuted.

It’s enough to let you indulge now.

So you draw his fingers into your mouth.

They’re so large. The salty taste of his cum and the taste of his skin on your tongue makes your eyes close as you clean his fingers.

“Fuckin’ shit, baby.” You want to hear him say those words over and over, want to cherish how wrecked his voice breaks.

Now, very slowly, Joel’s fingers move in your mouth and you moan. He traces your teeth, drags the meat of his fingers across your tongue and plunges deeper into your mouth.

Your eyes roll back, and on instinct you start sucking.

“Yeah darlin’ yeah.” Joe whispers hoarsely, and you want to get drunk on him.

Steady, his fingers plunge in and out, fucking your mouth as you become putty in his hold. His other hand now runs up your thigh, under the edge of your dress.

“Want you so bad Joel.” Even with his fingers in your mouth you whimper out those words maybe mainly to yourself, maybe thinking this is just a dream.

But the way Joel surges up, yanks his hand out of your mouth to clutch your face, and he kisses you like a parched man…

This feels too good to be a dream.

You melt into it, into Joel, greedily stealing all he gives you. Just as you welcome him to steal all he wants from you, and you readily give him everything. No worries about anything else, it’s simply you and him.

When Joel slides into you, deep and wide, when his breath tickles the heat of your skin, you taste the essence of him all around - the world feels reborn.

Joel however, is slightly more reluctant.

“M’too old for you.” He argues after the second night you crawl into his room.

“You think I care?” I simply say running your fingers against his warm chest.

“You should.”

Well you don’t and you tell him that.

Then the dark doubt creeps in.

Because there are other things you should care about.

“Are you doing this…”

Just to be cruel, to maybe even control you.

Joel sits up holding your hand against his chest. Your eyes met his. There’s steeled sincerity in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“No… hate that I wanted you from the start, before all this.” At the party. That feels like ages ago.

You can’t help but ask him why, why you.

He sighs, and his thumb strokes your hand.

“Saw you when ya first walked in. You laughed at something your friend said. It was so loud, so fuckin’ genuine.”

You’re about to apologize, embarrassed, at how loud you laugh until Joel continues.

“Knew you were something fierce, something beautiful. I was gone the minute you smashed that god damn drink in that guy's face.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else. So much clouds the room and it feels thick, but it’s like the thickness of a misty morning fog you want to get lost in. You kiss him tenderly, as if you have all the time in the world.

After this a new shift comes between you and Joel. His hands always seem to be on you, gently touching your arm or grazing past you closer. After your nights with him, hickies paint your thighs and you admire them in the morning.

In the dark, Joel tells you more about Tommy, about the plan he has for finding his brother. Even sometimes he reveals bits and pieces about Sarah.

You soak in every moment you can with him. Joel even stays a full day away from the radio helping Bill renovating one of the sheds. It’s a gift watching Joel work with his hands and tools, like watching the shadow of a past still existing in him.

Your heart becomes a treasure chest holding all these moments.

But something darker still rots in you.

FEDRA still remains silent.

(v)

Summer winds down. Cooler air settles in the town, and you happily enjoy sitting on the porch more and more.

You’d been eyeing the pomegranate for a few days. Now after Frank happily told you to enjoy, you excitedly and greedily cut into it. Joel even showed you how to earlier.

Currently you sit on the porch enjoying the soft breeze. Frank sits besides you watching Bill work on a project. You laugh at how affectionate the two are even while bickering.

Scooping out a couple of the pomegranate seeds, their beautiful ruby color stains your finger. They taste of a sweetness you never want to leave. Boots approach from behind.

“Joel! Come, sit. Enjoy the nice early autumn weather.” Frank calls and you turn to grin at him.

“FEDRA finally got in contact.” Joel’s words pop the air.

Everything stills.

When you turn towards Joel, the somber stare on his face already reveals the answer.

FEDRA denied the exchange.

The rest of the pomegranate sits uneaten on the porch.

You sit in Joel’s room quietly for what feels like years. The tears don’t even come anymore.

“She can stay here! She’d be a welcomed addition” Frank urges from the living room. “We’ve appreciated all the extra help around here.”

“No. Take her back.” Bill interjects flat.

Frank shushes his husband.

The conversation becomes low, muffled, and you’re too tired to even try and listen. You instead curl into Joel’s pillow, and let sleep take you.

A callous hand gently stroking your cheeks wakes you. The low early evening light bathes Joel glorious, and you faintly smell wine Joel must have had.

“You gonna get rid of me now?” You mumble hollow.

Joel shakes his head no.

“Too late for that.” He says with the faintest hint of a crooked grin. “Told ya, I’m head smuggler for a fuckin’ reason, like to keep what’s mine close.”

You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. But the tears manage to return.

“What’s gonna happen now?” While you ask, your voice breaks.

Joel exhales.

“Don’t know.” He says truthfully.

You’re grateful he’s being honest. Joel’s dark autumn eyes glance away.

“I know we’ll manage, find a car, get Tommy.” He nods to himself.

“But…” he adds with his voice trailing off.

“Don’t wanna think about you leaving,” Joel admits with the lowest rumble.

“Can’t fuckin’ handle it… thinkin’ about not knowin’ how you’re doing, not seeing you…” he shakes his head.

“It’s fuck up. I know it’s god damn fucked up... If you want me to take you back to the QZ, I’ll do it. If you wanna just stay here, I’d let ya.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, almost debris filled with so many emotions begging to get out.

You slide your hands around him, and he draws you closer. The world might be crumbling again all around you, but he feels like a steady rock amongst it all.

“I don’t wanna leave, don’t wanna leave you.” You whimper out the truth.

Joel holds you tighter into his strong warm embrace.

That night you fuck Joel like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him, and a grim darkness seeping in your mind whispers it might be.

You want every piece of him. So when you open your mouth wide, without any question, Joel runs his thumb across your bottom lip and spits into your mouth. You greedily swallow.

What surprises you is when you’re seated in Joel’s lap, slowly grinding up and down on his thick cock, he weakly opens his mouth as well.

Tenderly stroking his cheek, you gently lean down and let the spit drip from your mouth into his. You feel drunk watching Joel’s eyes roll back as he swallows.

Instead of feral roughness, or a devouring passion, it’s tender, makes your heart swell. Joel’s hands map you out like you’re a cherished rare gem.

In his arms, in the quiet stillness of the room, your heart begs for weeds to start growing around you.

(vi)

From a glance out the window, the pumpkins seem to be flourishing beautifully. They’re your first big vegetables you’re growing, with Bill’s supervision of course. But you’re proud of the progress nonetheless.

You’re finishing cleaning the last bit of dishes from breakfast when a sturdy arm slides around you from behind.

For someone so grumpy, Joel is surprisingly and secretly a cuddly creature. His wonderful nose burrows into the side of your face.

“Wanna work on the kitchen today,” he mutters.

The old house across the street from Bill and Frank’s has become the new project. While you still stay with Bill and Frank, your hope is to eventually make that empty house a home.

The autumn air invigorates you as you go to visit Frank in his sunroom.

“Will you be okay here by yourself?” You ask him gently.

Frank snorts. “You and Bill both, such worrywarts.”

Frank’s been moving slower, coughing more. It tugs at your heart. Over the radio you now even ask Tess if there’s other medication options for him to try.

You’ve grown to care about him, even grouchy Bill and Tess who even seems to warm up to you now.

It’s your own carved out universe.

Frank good naturedly pats your hand, reassuring you he’ll be fine. With a squeeze to his shoulder and a warm goodbye, you head across the street.

Of course Joel takes charge, and it’s hard not to jump his bones seeing how effortlessly he takes to fixing up this house.

The night you decided to stay here, Joel slid you a paper and pen.

“Draw me your dream house.” He told you gruffy.

He kept that very poor drawing. It’s what guides the renovations. The house is smaller than Bill and Frank’s but to you, it’s a perfect size.

“You know I can do it myself, make Bill work too.” Joel had told you when you first showed up to help.

“I know, but I wanna help. Wanna know my elbow grease went into everything too.” You told Joel with a grin.

He didn’t shoo you away after that. Now you get to help around when you can. The sanded cabinets and freshly painted walls, all fruits of your labor and you’re excited, proud, seeing the house come together. It’s breathing life into his dusty space, and you cherish it.

Eventually you head back to Bill and Frank’s.

Frank calls to you. “The radio came on.”

With Joel throwing himself into fixing up the house, interestingly enough you’ve become his stand in. It’s how you and Tess slowly began bonding. You’ve told her FEDRA routes and patrol changes and she’s in turn gossiped about what’s been happening in Boston.

You miss it often, but the peace of walking to visit your pumpkins, to helping Frank at breakfast, of having Joel in your bed…it’s like a new breath in your lungs.

“Hey.” You greet Tess.

She says your name, somber and you still.

“Your mom…she finally got in contact with us.”

You inhale shakily. A part of you had wondered if your mom would do something like this.

Finally managing to get a hold of a battery, your mom is offering to trade it for you.

A wave of fear does grip you. You don’t want to leave, don’t want to go back. But you also miss her dearly.

When Joel returns, beautifully coated in sweat and saw dust, he’s like a construction god. But seeing your face, he instantly understands something’s up.

In the seclusion of your room, you tell Joel you’ll return to Boston, and his eyes become moons.

“You don’t have to go back.” Joel whispers to you later that night. “Can say we want more.”

You shake your head.

Your mom has been through enough, and Joel needs this.

“You need to find Tommy.”

His hand curls against your face holding your cheek so precious. “We’ll find another battery, or hell I’ll take one of Bill’s. Don’t want ya feeling like you’re forced to go back.”

This has all been out of your control and now, you have a say.

You’ll return with Joel, but you won’t be fully returning to your life in Boston either. You’ll exist between these two worlds now, visiting your mom and primarily staying with Joel.

Your mom won’t be happy about this, you can almost hear her fury already. But this is what you want. It’s the journey your path will take.

“Y’okay with this?” Joel suddenly asks before leaving the gate to the town. His eyes search yours. “You don’t have to do this, especially for me.”

You understand what he means, but this is for you.

Gently you draw Joel towards you and kiss him soft.

With the smuggler king, you walk firmly into the sunlight. The early autumn breeze gently guides you forward.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION

So we know that Melusines have a token that they are given/have when they are born (Mamare mentions this in game)

What token would the Creator have?

*SMACKS TABLE* YOU'RE RIGHT WHAT A BRILLIANT QUESTION

all of your siblings were born with something, something physical in their hands. for most, it was some trinket or bobble made of mechanical parts, etched with peculiar runes- your sister, Mamere, had a token that could repair her clockwork pup companion, and the same goes for the other Melusine. although, nobody's tried to use theirs to fix the clockwork soldiers. better leave delicate work to the professionals. when you first awoke, you wondered if your rebirth was just a dream, or if you really deserved it at all. the inhabitants of Teyvat all thought you were a liar, and imposter. clearly, you must have done something to attract their ire. something terrible and awful that you can't remember anymore

but the others meet your words with a chorus of protest, shaking their hands and insistently pointing at the token in your hand. it's a sign, they tell you, that you're a Melusine, good and true

and there is a trinket in your hands, an elegant thing made of swirling metal and filigree. it forms three points- the triquetra you've seen so often around this new world- one for each Moon Sister of the ancient past. in the center is a twinkling star shape with four points that glows faintly in the dark, shimmering with subtle iridescent colors. your siblings crowd around you, oohing and aahing at your unique token. it can't be used to fix any meka, but it lights the way in the darkest of nights, throwing shining bits around like a refracted prism. yes, you must be a Melusine, it's concluded with a firm nod. who else would be given such a lovely light, glowing much like the creatures of the Primordial Sea?

sometimes, you like to hold the token up to Foul Legacy's wings, and for a moment you think that perhaps you see the same stars, twinkling in their violet and blue depths

[eddwardharrison]

We call this dark sun guy “Solstice” ‘round these parts… (A strong headcanon name I have.) A drawing I did before animating the full scene! This line was the main thing that made the two click to the song for me. They just so silly!

[glitterghost]

You're never truly alone with vessel's voice pouring poetry straight into your ears. The frequnecy of which wraps its way around your heart, and you can't help but feel comfort, even in some of his agony, in some of his pain, and all of his love.

[hecetas]

Dark signs

by hecetas

[backlistbacklog]

Two thoughts on Token of Darkness:

1) Imagine if while Samantha was running around in Brent's body that she went to Brent's mom and maybe helped her deal with her addiction in some magical way (vaguely shitty but less shitty than how the text just presents it was idk poor people are just addicts I guess

2) Imagine if the real mess/mystery with Cooper and Samantha was that somehow Cooper and Sam had done a body swap

Like, the character we *thought* was Cooper was really just an elemental that thinks it's Cooper. And Sam-who-is-actually-Cooper can't remember anything about dying or life before becoming a ghost etc etc bc of the wild stuff the book says about how memory and powers work

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Possession

Gale x F! Sorcerer Tav

18+ enemies to lovers (sort of), antagonistic relationships, crossed signals, misunderstanding, physical roughness, rivalry/jealousy, mean domGale, rough sex, manhandling, semi-public sex, consensual voyeurism, light humiliation, masturbation (m!), fingering (f!), oral (f!), face sitting, p-in-v, pulling out

With natural challenge and charge between them and a misstep at connection, an unexpected competitor appears in camp. Things come to a burning head between sorcerer and wizard...

Masterlist

-

Magic ran through her body. It was deep inside her bones, a force she could not reason with even if she tried. As vital as breath.

So as Gale explained Weave to her, she rested her chin on a curled hand. Giving him a highly bemused smile that he was entirely unaware of.

"The simplicity that Magic of the Weave - An Introduction supplies is quite misleading. Though those unfamiliar must start somewhere, I suppose." He held the small tome up in demonstration, letting it fall flat in his palm to a page he had affixed a colored tab to.

"Like here!"

He began reading aloud a passage, Tav smiling wider at the unconscious raise of his pointed finger.

"While that is accurate," He snapped the book shut, turning to look at her. "To distill the Weave so crudely down to a new student is akin to stealing their capacity for wonder. So much of the power of the Weave is in its limitless beauty, to rend it so small is a disservice."

"Not all spellcasters experience magic in such a profound way as you do." She offered, that bite of jest falling back into her words.

"Ah, I've forgotten." He sighed, leveling her with a withering stare. "I'm speaking to a sorcerer."

She felt her smile widen even further.

"And I'm speaking to a wizard. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you kiss those books to sleep at night."

His ears filled with blush, pulling the tome off of his lap and setting it with an annoyed thump on an ever growing pile.

"As I've said, no sense of wonder." He sniped.

This was a dance they did. He would talk her through a concept she was already familiar with and, inevitably, get frustrated with her teasing. But he kept coming back, a new topic, a new book, to dissect to her. A dog with a bird in its teeth.

"I really do think it's sweet. Your love for your craft. Maybe you'll be a teacher one day, you clearly have a knack for it." She sighed out her last words in a mock weariness.

"Though I could argue I experience magic just as deeply as you do, wizard. Maybe I should be the one giving you lectures."

His eyes seemed to light at the thought, turning to her expectantly.

"No," she raised her hands. "I'm not going to be the one to break that hopeful glint in your eyes. My relationship with my magic is not nearly as fulfilling."

He stared at her, stubborn. Turning fully towards her, eyes held in unwavering interest.

"You're very irritating." She stated.

He scoffed.

"I'm well aware. But go on, enlighten me."

She gave an exaggerated eye roll, then fell quiet. Bowing her head in concentration, allowing the slow closing of her eyes.

The sound of rustling fabric next to her as he leaned forward.

As she focused in on her power, the sensation, the fluid of it, she felt it rise along her body. Lifting the ends of her hair, air crackling with chill. She leaned her head back, feeling the delicious cold move up her spine.

Speaking in a hushed, vulnerable voice.

"It's ice water in summer. It's the chill of early morning. It's the plunge of a hand into a cool river."

Her eyes slid open, her gaze falling back on her hands. Now alight with glacial magic.

"It's the hunger of winter. It's the icy maw that swallows the unprepared. It's the frigid grip on skin, stealing breath away. Lulling so sweetly into sleep, burning alive."

She stared at the curl of her palm, frost lines traveling in slow pulses down the valleys of her veins.

"What you call Weave I know as blood. Inescapable and as giving as a blizzard. It's not about learning, it's about controlling."

Her eyes finally rose to his and found him scribbling in the front leaf page of Magic of the Weave. Looking up at her expectantly, his hand pausing as she fell quiet.

"Are you... writing this down?" She stared at him in disbelief.

He looked down at his pen, then back up at her, innocent confusion tilting his head. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"By Drizz't's Blades, can you not be an academic for one second?" She huffed, rising to feet.

"Just like a wizard, you bear your wounds and their taking notes. Gods."

He looked at his work again, his own frustration creasing his brows. Opening his mouth to surely argue.

"Save it." She held her hand up flat. "You've got your research. Frigid drow is a compelling footnote in your paper. Goodnight, Gale."

Her feet took her away on frosted grass. Hands clenching at her sides, ice cresting over knuckles. Feeling his eyes following her back.

Turning the corner on the largest crimson tent.

"Karlach! I need thawing!"

-

"You know he didn't mean it like that."

Karlach's blistering hand rubbed in circles along the ice holding her bare back. Melting it down only to have new sheets bloom behind her hand.

"I dont know that." Tav hissed, the tight hurt in her chest speaking.

"Oh, come on. He's far too sweet on you to be studying you like an experiment."

"He's not."

"He is. Hells, Tav, it's obvious."

Tav rose her legs to her chest, leaning on her knees. Pushing her chin into the curve of her folded forearms. Angry tears spiking her eyes, quickly turning to frozen rain pooling.

"That's just how wizards are, mate. They digest the world through books. If anything, it was a massive compliment that he was taking notes."

She picked at the seam along her knee. Turning her head into the fold of her arms with a shaky sigh. Focusing on Karlach's heat to bring her body back down from the threatening squall.

"I just want to be..."

She tried to gather her words, but an angry lump sat frozen in her throat.

"I know, baby. You want to be understood. But that shit hurts."

Tav nodded, reaching back to squeeze Karlach's knee.

"Thank you." She sighed, ice water slipping down her temple and the curve of her nose.

"Of course, Frost. Elemental bitches gotta stick together."

Tav let out a wet laugh, chill air leaving her in a burst.

Leaving her tent, she gave Karlach's shoulder one more grateful squeeze. Misty eyed again, seeing how happily she pulled a frozen Clive to her chest. Her spell set to last through the night.

Though her ice was often a burden, it was setting up to be a sweltering night. Passing by each tent, she tapped on canvas. Setting the temperature down with an incantation, hearing grateful sighs and soft thank you's from within as she made a loop. Slipping a bottle of cooled blood into crimson canvas, chilled fingers taking it eagerly.

She eyed the deep turquoise tent, soft light still dancing inside. Sighing, she stepped forward on quiet feet. Stopping to kneel down and straighten the piles of books that he had haphazardly left.

Crouched on haunches, she rose her hand. Pressing a cold palm into canvas. Giving him a little extra in silent apology.

Hearing no acknowledgment outside of a pausing of movement, she rose back on feet.

"Goodnight, Gale." She hushed.

Turning back to the lone point of her black tent, at the lowest slope of their small world. Faded with scrubbed away symbols of Lolth. Smiling at Minthara's tent opposite hers.

Her fellow drow laid inside, leaned back on her hammock. Sharpening a dagger with the precision of a practiced war matron.

Giving her an affirming nod as she cooled her tent.

"I'm retiring for the night." Tav spoke in Undercommon, the words sliding out so much more natural. Minthara respoding in kind.

"I'll take watch." Rising from her lounge, she sat her dagger back with a snap. Heading up the slope.

"Rest well, sister."

Finally alone, she entered her tent. Content to wallow in her sharp hurt.

As she settled, lighting a candle, pulling a spidersilk robe around her waist, a new shape revealed beneath her pillow.

She cut her eyes, picking up a tome.

Impractical Magic, Volume 1.

Another sat beneath it.

Book of Poetry.

She flipped through them. A beginner's book, written by a wizard, about the nature of elemental sorcery and a small book of poems. Recognizing her own speech patterns from her attempt at explanation earlier in the prose.

She shot to feet, angry chill rising through her neck. The books gripped in her fist.

Ripping aside turquoise canvas. Casting Private Sanctum on his tent as she stormed inside. Tossing the books at his feet.

"Are you mocking me?"

He glanced at the books, eyes rising to hers. Turning his head in that maddening tilt.

"You have wildly misunderstood my intentions."

Her hands twitched into fists again, breathing hard through the frost.

"Okay, then dumb it down for me since you're so superior. My meager education couldn't possibly rise to the occasion."

He rose to feet, his breathing picking up with hers.

"Why do you keep inferring that I find you lacking? How have I made that impression?"

She nearly screamed, biting her icy tongue. Turning from him to face the tent wall as furious tears rose again.

"Hey, don't turn away. I'm trying to understand!"

His hand pulled on her bicep, and it snapped a fracture in her frozen lake.

Wrenching his wrist, she forced his arm behind his back. Flipping him to the ground, knee pressed into his spine. Taking his hair in a tight bunch, forcing his head into a turn on his pillow.

He gasped, his back arching into her hold. Body so unbearably warm beneath hers.

"Don't touch me." She commanded. Pressing her knee harder.

He tried to nod, but her fist held harder into his hair. A soft moan left him, hips rising into a curl.

"Don't go into my tent again. Or I will do far worse than this."

"Is that a promise?" He gasped.

She raised her lip in a snarl. Lowering her head down to his ear, hissing into the well.

"You're too soft and warm to talk back, wael faern. Or do I need to show you that?"

"I'd love a demonstration, if you don't mind."

She smiled dangerously, pinning his arm under her knee. Hand snapping down on the side of his throat.

He breathed hard under her constricting fingers, eyes fluttering up into lids as her cold tongue drug up the curve of his ear.

She pressed the full freeze of her body into his back, chuckling darkly as he shivered.

"Too cold? I thought so."

Rising off of him with a shove, she twisted her fingers into her magic. Glaring down as he turned to stare flushed at her.

"Enjoy the heat."

With a pull, she removed her chill on the tent. The air filling sweltering again as she ducked out into the night.

-

"No Gale today?" Astarion clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. Shouldering his pack to accompany her.

"No. I'd rather not see him." She responded in a clipped voice.

"Cold." He lilted. "But I do so enjoy that about you."

Karlach and Minthara met them at the crest of the trail. Blue light still bathing the sleeping world.

"Any reason we're heading out so early, soldier?"

"She's avoiding her kicked puppy."

"Do you want to stay back, Astarion? I'm sure you could use the beauty rest."

"Would you like me to educate the spawn on manners, sister?"

"Gods, I'm going to hate you two together."

Her eyes darted back to the distant point of camp. Seeing a soft light ignite inside his tent.

"Enough talk. Head out."

-

"Shadowheart! To me!" Tav called.

Rolan moaned out what sounded like 'Where are we?' His eyes rolling loose in sockets as he coughed.

"My camp, we're not close enough to Last Light. Now focus on breathing." She hitched his arm higher over her shoulder.

Minthara took up his other side, face stoic.

"Shadowheart! We have wounded!" Tav called again, eyes tracking around the camp.

She rushed down the hill, hands lit in magic. Potions gathered under her arm.

"Injuries?" She urged, Tav and Minthara laying him on a soft patch of grass. Halsin came up behind Tav, his hand coming to Rolan's forehead. The other braced on her back as he kneeled down.

"Shadow wraiths. The curse almost got him." Karlach gasped, running up to the gathered help.

"He's very near death." Halsin urged, hand lighting along his forehead. "Something's wrong, he's burning up."

Tav leaned back and whipped off her robe, kneeled in her underclothes.

"Lift him." She instructed. Halsin appraising her with an impressed glint.

The druid lifted him easily into a slump.

"What's going on?" Gale's voice rose over their heads.

Tav arched her thigh around Rolan's lap, taking up his weight into her shoulder. Her chest pressed to his, she snaked her hand inside of his robe and untied it at the waist. Letting it fall back as she spread her hands on his bowed back and pressed into him.

Halsin and Shadowheart took up at his sides in front of her. Speaking healing magic into his body.

"Breath, faern." She hushed, pulling him to her.

Rolan's breath filled and emptied shallowly against her neck. Burning into her skin.

"I'm going to get colder now, take a deep breath." She warned in a soft voice.

She focused her temperature down, feeling him try to pull away weakly.

"Good, that's good." Halsin encouraged, spreading a hand between hers. "He's stabilizing."

Rolan whimpered into her shoulder, arms coming up to grip into her back. Body shaking with cold and frustration. Tears hidden in the fall of her hair.

"I know, I know." She hummed, hands running through his long hair. "You're alive. Feel your anger."

Rolan wouldn't leave her side, even after his body had cooled. Leaning his head in exhausted shame.

"We'll head out for Last Light, first thing in the morning." Tav instructed, her gathered companions nodding. The fire burning low between them.

"Return Rolan to his family and secure the whereabouts of Oliver. We should search where we last saw him."

Rolan's head rose, staring down at her.

"Family?"

"Yes, we found your siblings in the prison at Moonrise. They were on their way back to you when we found you."

His eyes filled with tears again.

"You saved them?"

She nodded, then was taken into him.

He pressed a kiss into her lips, hands cupping her face in desperate joy. Pulling away with spilling tears.

"Thank you." He breathed.

She smiled up at him.

"No trouble."

Rolan smiled back, then turned his head. His eyes widened in confusion, then settled into a cold stare.

Tav followed his gaze.

Gale sat across from Rolan, glaring dark under his brow at him. Fingers digging on his thighs.

"Something you'd like to share?" Rolan chided, tilting his head in a slow challenge.

"Oh, not presently. After all, your health is far too important." Gale's voice came out in a low warning.

The air crackled with malice. A silent combat taking place between eyes.

"Gods, you wizards are like fish too close in a pond. Get over yourselves." Shadowheart scoffed, rising to feet.

"I'll set you up in my tent tonight." Tav turned to back to Rolan. "I'll occupy myself elsewhere."

"I'm sure there's enough room for the two of us." Rolan purred, eyes lighting in petty accomplishment as the shadow darkened next to them.

"And I'm sure you'll freeze to death."

"Mmm, I'm still a mite warm, actually."

Gale rose to feet, shoulders hard with effort.

"Tav, a word?"

"My tent is there." She pointed down the slope, rising to feet. "Get some rest. We have a long walk come morning."

Gale came to her side, rushing forward. Caging her body forward with his own. Fast steps forcing her body to a brisk walk.

His hand came up to pull on her wrist, finding her pace not removing them quickly enough.

"I will end you." She promised, his hand falling away with a huff.

"Okay, we're beyond the treeline. I think we're far enough from the wizard I just helped."

She crossed her arms, leveling an unamused stare at him.

"What do you want to say?"

"Why did he just kiss you?" Gale hissed. Ducking his head down low to her.

"Ask him. I haven't detected his thoughts."

"That's not funny."

"It wasn't a joke."

He huffed breath hard, chest heaving. Eyes burning.

"You're impossible." He growled.

"I'm a drow. Bitch comes free." She tilted her head up at him. A mean glint in her eyes.

"Why? Are you jealous, wizard?"

His back bristled, eyes widening in contained rage.

"Do you need healing, too? Do you have wounds for me?" She stepped forward in a challenge. "Show me where it hurts, and I'll lick it better."

He held his ground, and she stepped forward again. Egging him on.

"Come on. You're clearly angry with me." She smiled. "Spit your venom."

"I'm not angry with you."

"No?" She stepped into him.

"Then why are you so warm?"

His eyelids lowered into a grimace, panting as she pressed into him.

They breathed into each other's space, his hands arching in hard clenches at his sides.

"Then what are you feeling towards me, Gale?" She hissed, staring into his dark eyes.

He finally snapped, crashing his mouth into hers.

His mouth pushed, desperate and mean. Wide hand gripping into the back of her hair. Breathing hard through nose. Tangling into her in angry pulls. Demanding fingers pulling at her clothes.

She pulled out of her robe, ripping into his ties. Disrobing him with the same aggression. Pressing her body hard into his in rolling waves. His heat battling her rising cold.

"Down." He growled into her swollen lips. Pulling her by the hips roughly to the forest floor.

"I don't take orders from you." She breathed, falling under his body.

"Shut up." He hissed, pulling her bralette down to her ribs in a hard yank.

Mouth diving on a hard peak.

Her back curled up in pleasure, gripping into his hair.

He lapped at the buds, playing mean fast strokes that he pulled up into his lips. Sucking in hard popping pulses.

Her head arched back, panting into the grass. Cunt flooding with slick, hips arching up into the tone of his belly.

He forced his hand between them, cupping her cunt and pushing her hips hard into the earth.

"I'm going to make you regret kissing him." He promised in a dangerous rumble. Eyes glaring up at her in dark slits.

"Do it, then." She breathed, her eyes burning ice.

"I dare you."

He ripped her panties off, eyes smoldering anger. Wrenching under her thighs and lifting her hips high into the air. Forcing her thighs onto his shoulders, holding her up by her ass.

She cried out into her palm when his mouth latched onto her clit. Pulling vicious wet suckles, his arm locking behind her hips as they tried to squirm away. The pleasure near unbearable, his anger leaving her merciless.

Her shoulders writhed on the grass, hips trying to give out. He cracked his hand down on her ass twice, rising her hips back up with a growl.

Her eyes rolled marble in her head as he took her apart, gasping shallow breaths. Already a shameful mess. Delirious with wrenching pleasure.

Frost spread across her belly, orgasm circling dangerously tight. Muffling pleading moans in her throat, coming out as choking whimpers.

He laughed into her cunt, dragging his nails hard down her thigh to get her to gasp her mouth open. Leaving pink scratches in his wake.

Her mouth fell open, the pain pushing her pleasure into an unrelenting high. Gasping out in Undercommon.

"What was that?" He murmured, pulling back to stare down her belly at her.

She glared at him, tightening her thighs around his head in warning.

"No, no, use-" He sucked hard on her clit in hollow pulls of his tongue, her thighs falling back open in a shudder. "-your words."

"Fuck you." She hissed.

"Not what you said." He retorted, pushing two fingers inside her without warning.

She twisted, cunt clenching hard on his fingers. Hooking into punishing slow strikes.

He slapped her ass again. Demanding an answer.

"I said-"

She clamped around his head, twisting him down to the ground. Straddling over his face.

"Rip me apart, wizard."

His eyes lowered into dangerous slits. Grasping her by both hips, forcing her cunt into his mouth again.

She shuddered as he latched back on in near biting pulses. Completely engulfing her clit. Reaching up to pull on her throat, forcing her into an arch forward to push his fingers back inside. Slamming into her beneath, sending jolts up through her pelvis.

She gripped into his hair, face crumpling in desperate pleasure. Hand cupped over her mouth to not shriek.

His eyes cut to the edge of the trees. Pulling her hand down by the forearm and forcing it behind her back.

Her eyes followed, rocking with the force of his fucking.

Rolan stood wide-eyed on the edge a tree, hard cock in his hand.

Gale's hand spread up over her hips and belly in clear petty possession. Cupping her breast, pinching her nipple between his long fingers. Rubbing his nose in it.

Tav couldn't take it anymore, being displayed like this pushing her over the edge. Body buckling as she came hard into his mouth.

He grasped onto her hips, quickly forcing her onto her belly. Cock pushing inside her in a viciously savoring thrust.

She cried out into the dirt, her orgasm still in its throes. Clenching hard onto him, his breath hissing out with his thrusts. Rocking her forward in hard snaps.

"Look at him." He whispered, lifting her head by a pull of her hair. Winding it into his fist.

Her glazed eyes locked with Rolan's. Both of them aghast with shameful pleasure.

"See how much he wants this?" He hissed low into her ear. "Poor thing, he can't touch you. Not like I can."

As if to demonstrate, he circled his fingers hard into her clit.

She curled her head in, hands clawing at the dirt. Choppy begging cries smothered as a second orgasm threatened.

"Gale, I'm-" She pleaded, hips rising higher as it climbed. His hips slamming faster into her backside in response.

It ripped through her, sending her whole torso into shuddering spasms. Back arching down into the dirt as her cum pushed out to drip down his thighs.

Her wrenching contractions forced him to his end. Hand bracing on her shoulder. Pulling out to spill on her lower back, gasping shallow as his pleasure dripped down her spine.

She heard Rolan's muffled release and looked over, seeing his eyes flutter back into his head.

Gale was a preening exhausted shadow behind her. Rolling her ass in his palms in pure accomplished revelry.

She heard Rolan scurry away towards camp. Gale huffing out a righteous laugh.

"Oh, he's going with the others in the morning."

Tav nodded, too fucked out to regain her role as leader. Pliant and loose under his command.

"And you're going to stay with me tonight." He smiled dangerously, clearly enjoying having tamed her.

"Yes, saer." She sighed.

"Oh, do keep talking like that. You're going to be wonderfully obedient, aren't you?"

~

[politemagic]

clearing out my shitposting treasure trove ahead of the australia tour!

[vagueconfusion]

Vessel during Dark Signs; from the Atlanta ritual

Video taken by undead_meg_ on tiktok

[anothergoodtime]