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j-eryewrites · 11 months

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Please Hold to My Hand

Part Four of A Sinner's Redemption

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

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Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, gun violence, people, death, gore and injuries, lots of feelings, horrible jokes (that I even laughed at), language. (Let me know if I have missed anything)

Author's Note: Finally! It’s out. I’ve been writing this between classes and really haven’t had time to review the work. Piper is finally letting down some walls and so is Joel! Yay! We get some more flashbacks and, of course, Ellie and Piper's shenanigans. I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you liked it, I’d love to hear from you either with comments or reposts! Thanks!

Dirty. Piper felt dirty as she stood in the moldy gas station bathroom. Moss grew from the cracks in the ceiling and she was sure the black substance behing the sinks was something otherworldly. Shivering, Piper squeezed her limbs as close as she could to her body making herself as narrow as possible. Behind one of the bathroom stalls was Ellie, taking a bathroom break.

Piper couldn’t understand how her sister could relax herself enough to use the restroom in a place like this. With the creak and slam of the bathroom stall door, Ellie appeared with a care in the world. Again, Piper shivered and took a step away from her sister as Ellie stepped in front the the broken mirror.

“Jesus Ellie let’s go,” Piper said before turning around to face her sister. “What are you–” Piper laughed and for a moment she forgot about the disease infested place she was in.

“Pew, pew. Pew,” Ellie whispered. In her hand was the gun Piper had given from her.

Piper shook her head at her sister’s antics. “No, no, no. Here’s how you do it.” Stepping forward, Piper reached out a hand to grab hold of the gun, but Ellie pulled away.

“Hey, let me do my thing,” Ellie begged.

Rolling her eyes, Piper crossed her arms and sighed. “Well you’ll shoots someone’s eye out. At least take out the bullets.”

“Hmm,” Ellie hummed not realizing that was an options. She turned the gun around looking for a way to remove the tiny deathly objects in the gun.

“Here,” Piper muttered as she showed Ellie how to remove them. The young girl watched and took note of everything that her sister did. The dull metallic bullets fell out the cartridge and into Piper’s hand. “See?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah,” Ellie said and she retrieved the gun from her sister’s hand. Once again Ellie raised the gun at the mirror and put on her best menacing face. It was practice for when she actually got to shoot the weapon. In her mind, Ellie wondered if she would be as good of a shot like Piper was.

“Can we go now?” Piper asked. Her shivers got worse and Piper began to believe she could turn infected from just standing in the bathroom any longer.

Cocking the gun back, then shoving it deep into her backpack, Ellie nodded and the two girls trudged through the mess and out the doors to the fresh dry air.

Coming around the corner, they saw Joel just as they had left him; On the ground with one knee raised as support as he blew into a long straw like thing.

“We have to do this every hour?” Ellie sighed.

Piper could see Joel was just as annoyed as Ellie when it came to stopping every hour. “Gas breaks down over time. This stuff’s almost water. Back in the day, we’d drive 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere,” Joel said.

“So,” Piper asked, “where’d you go?”

Joel looked up at the two girls. His eyes squinted underneath the bright light of the summer sun. “Pretty much nowhere.”

“Boring,” Piper muttered before finding a rock to kick around.

Joel continued blowing into the big straw.

“Nice!” Ellie leaned in close. “How does that work?”

“It’s a siphon. It’s when liquid…” Joel paused thinking about his words. “travels against gravity because pressure…”

Ellie smirked and chuckled. “You don’t know.”

“I know it works,” Joel quipped back making Ellie laugh even more.

Once the laughter was over, the young girl soon sought other sources to still her boredom. Lifting her legs up comically into the air, Ellie began to peruse around the rusted cars that Joel was searching for gas from.

As her eyes followed the rock on the ground as it rolled back and forth, Piper called out to Ellie. “No wandering”

With the biggest sigh she could conjure, Ellie replied. “Okay. This is your fault then.” She warned. Then dropping her backpack to the ground she pulled out a small book. Flipping it open she began to read. “It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationery.” Briefly, Ellie looked up to gage Joel’s and Piper’s reaction. Laughing, Ellie revealed the cover of the book. “No Pun Intended, Volume Too” by Will Livingston. “Volume Too.” Look. You get it? “Too”? Like, T-o-o.

“Jesus,” Joel grumbled.

“What did the mermaid wear to her math class?” Ellie paused. “An algae bra. Like, algae bra. Okay, I stayed up all night…”

“No.” Joel tried to interrupt Ellie, stopping her from telling the next horrible joke.

“wondering where the sun went…,” Ellie continued. “...and then it dawned on me.”

This joke made Piper laugh. It wasn’t so much the joke, but how much Joel despised them. His face contort with each failed attempt at a joke and it made both of the young girls laugh.

Joel sat up and glared at the two of them. “Feel free to wait in the truck.”

Piper’s eyes widened at the warning. “Going now,” She mumbled before leaving her rock on the ground for the safety of the boiling hot car.

“Ugh, okay,” Ellie sighed. “but just know,” the young girl warned, “you can’t escape Will Livingston. He’ll be back. There’s nothing you can do to stop him.”

As the girls hopped back into the car, Joel returned his mind back to retrieving gas. It was only a few more minutes for the dark liquid shot thorugh the hose into the gas canister and Joel was ever grateful for those few minutes of silence and solace from Will Livingston and his terrible jokes.

꧁_____________꧂

Everything was the color of rust. Rust was the color of time and those forgotten and neglected, left to the mercy of nature. It was boiling and there was noting the air conditioning in the car could do. There wasn’t anything in sight except for dirt, sand, and crumbling cars. Even the normally blue sky was tinted a shade of brown. Piper felt like she was stuck in a valley of emptiness, not a living thing around.

As the car drove further and further down the road, Piper moved her gaze away from the window and instead to the rear-view mirror. There in the mirror she saw something alive, something that kept her alive and going, Ellie. The younger girl sat lazily in the back of the truck using her bag as a head rest. Meanwhile, her hand gripped a pencil dragging it back and forth across a notebook. At least someone was entertained.

Eventually, Piper brought her sight back onto the endless road in front of her. Cars were pilled high to the sides as if something huge parted the sea of metal carcasses.

“Must’ve been some truck,” Piper mumbled.

Joel glanced over the side at the girl. “Yeah, they used to stick big-ass plows on them, and clear the roads for their tanks and such.”

Piper nodded her head in response. It seemed like Ellie had tuned into the conversation, her sketch book forgotten beside her. “I wanna see a tank,” Ellie chirpped as she scanned the sea of vehicles.

“You will,” Joel assured Ellie. “Tanks, choppers, all that stuff. But they’ll fight the wrong enemy. Just scattered around now.”

Bitting the inside of her cheek Ellie pretended to listen beyond the words “You will” before changing the topic.

“I got somethin’. Here,” Ellie passed up a small tape. Joel, curious, snatched it from her hands. “This make you all nostalgic?”

He had to pull the tape farther away from his face to read the fine print. His eyes pulled into a thin line finally making the words readable. Damn he was getting old. “This is actually before my time,” Joel corrected.

Ellie’s smile faltered. “Great,” she mumbled.

A strange tightening in his chest formed at the disappointment in Ellie’s voice and Joel couldn’t help but want to salvage the situation. “It’s a winner, though.” Ellie’s smile was back on her face. Upon seeing her smile, Joel placed the tape into the slot and hit play.

♪ We met in the springtime when blossoms unfold ♪

Tapping her finger on Piper’s shoulder to the melody of the song, Ellie’s flashed with a wicked glint. Withdrawing her hand and shoving it into her bag she pulled out something new. “Oh, man. Got somethin’ else,” Ellie said. Joel and Piper mindless nodded at her words. “It’s, uh… light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures.”

As Piper and Joel whipped around Ellie’s smirk grew.

Gotcha! She thought.

“Oh. No, no, no. Put that back. That’s not for kids. Ellie!” Joel’s and Piper’s voices seemed to blend together as they tired to discourage Ellie from looking further.

Playing align with the ruse, Ellie buried her face between the pages, getting a good look at the images upon them. “How would he even walk around with that thing?”

“Fuuuckkk,” Piper groaned as she placed her head between her knees.

“Please get rid of it,” Joel begged. His hand reached back to take the magazine away from her.

Ellie swatted his hand away. “Hold your horses. I wanna see what all the fuss is about.” She quickly perused the rest of the magazine, except for a few pages. “Why are all these pages stuck together?”

Piper gaged like she was about to throw up.

“Uhh… the…” Joel was speechless.

Then Ellie burst out laughing. Her head thrown back as the giggles overcame her small figure. “I’m just fuckin’ with ya.” A window rolled down. Dusty wind blew around the car. “Bye-bye, dude!” Ellie had thrown the magazine to the wind.

♪ Alone and forsaken by fate and by man ♪ Oh Lord, if you hear me, please hold to my hand ♪ Oh, please understand ♪ Oh, where has she gone to ♪ Oh, where can she be ♪ She may have forsaken some other like me ♪ She promised to honor, to love, and obey ♪ Each vow was a plaything that she threw away ♪ The darkness is fallin’, the sky has turned gray ♪ A hound in the distance is starting to bay ♪ I wonder, I wonder what she’s thinkin’ of ♪ Forsaken, forgotten without any love ♪

꧁_____________꧂

The scene had changed now. It was green. There were trees and fields of grass. It was a welcomed changed to the drylands they had just drove through. The air was cooler now and the car wasn’t as hot. Piper could even imagine she was on a real roadtrip driving through the world before the outbreak. She felt normal.

She pressed a button and the passenger window opened. A brisk air kissed Piper’s face blowing the freed stands of her hair behind her. Yet she wanted more, so she slowly pulled out the hairtie. Her scalp groaned as the pressure was released. Then came the bliss as the wind weaved between the strands of her hair massaging her scalp. Her eyes close shut opening her arms to the comfort the wind gave her.

A shiver creeped up Joel’s shoulders and he turned his head to Piper. His mouth hung open with his forgotten wish to close the window. She seemed at peace as the music played and wind blew through her hair. She looked like what a kid like her should look like: Brow not filled with the worry of survival, hair not tied up and closed off to the world, happy, calm, and content. A thought of pity grew in Joel’s chest. This is how Piper should be living. Both her and Ellie. Afterall, they’re just kids. Kids with the future of the world on their shoulders. It was a weight they shouldn’t have, that no one should have. Joel knew that better than anyone.

“All right,” Joel sighed. “That’s enough for today.”

The wind release Piper’s hair from it’s hold as the window rolled back up. Rocking side to side, the truck turned away from the road into a grassy field. They were headed to the forest up ahead. A forest that would give them shelter for the long night.

Together, they did their part to unpack and get food started for dinner. Sitting down on the ground, the three of them ate. Piper wasn’t quite sure what they were eating, but it was cold and good. The square like noodles just slide down her throat easing her stomach’s plea for food. It was delicious.

A slurping noise came from beside her. “Jesus, Ellie. Slow down,” Piper said.

Ellie was slouched over her bowl devouring the food. Red sauce encased the skin around her mouth. “This is slow,” She mumbled with her mouth full of food. “What am I even eating?” Ellie asked.

Joel using his fork to point to the food inside his bowl answered. “That is 20-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli.” His tone made the two girls think that this was the best food ever created on planet earth.

Ellie shoved another fork full of food into her mouth. “That guy was good.”

“I actually agree,” Joel added.

“Hmm…” Piper hummed. “How long we staying out here?”

Placing his bowl down into his lap, Joel replied. “I figure I sleep tonight… and drive tomorrow all day, all night, get us to Wyoming by next mornin’.”

Ellie sighed and rubbed her now fully belly. “So can we start a fire? I’m freezing.”

“No.” There was no hesitation in Piper’s answer.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Well, you’re not in charge, now are you Piper?”

“Hey, hey,” Joel interrupted and waited for the two girls attention to be on him. “Now, why am I gonna tell you no?”

Sinking into the ground with disappointment Ellie answered, her voice as monotonous as they come. “Because Infected will see the smoke.”

Joel shook his head. “No. Fungus isn’t that smart. This is too remote for Infected, anyway.”

“People?” Ellie guessed. “So what are they gonna do? Rob us?” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice as if being robbed was so horrible.

It was Piper who spoke next. There was no emotion as she spoke. The peace Joel had seen her face earlier evaprotated and he could almost see the ghosts hiding behind Piper’s brown eyes. “They’ll have way more in mind than that.”

“Okay.” Joel softly said as he observed Piper. There it was again, that same tightness his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to her. Instead he told the girls to hurry up and eat then get ready for bed.

“Actually smells kinda good,” Ellie commented as she flung her sleeping bag out, laying it onto the ground.

“Well, that would be Frank’s then,” Joel replied doing the same with his sleeping bag until a shuffling nearby caught his eye. “What are you doing?” Joel asked Piper.

Her sleeping bag was still bound. Instead, she stood by the truck grabbing something from her bag. It was a gun.

“Getting ready for watch,” Piper said. Her focus on checking her gun.

Joel pushed himself off the ground and approached the girl. “No. We’re all sleeping.”

Piper ignored Joel as she checked the bullets, counting them out. Joel did the only thing he thought would work. Placing his hand on the gun, her forced Piper to lower the weapon and look at him.

“Trust me,” Joel said. “No one is gonna find us.” His voice was clear and full of comfort. It was the same voice he’d use whenever Sarah cried to him at night about the monsters in her closet.

The teenager scoffed. “Bullshit…” Yet the longer she looked at Joel, the more she felt like letting go of that gun and letting the walls fall just this once. Her eyes fell to the ground. “jesus fuck…fine.”

Removing his hand, Joel returned to his sleeping bag. He watched as Piper placed the gun next to her sleeping bag, which now laid out on the ground next to Ellie’s. Eventually the girl did lay down, pulling the covers over her shoulders. Satified Joel followed suit and the lamp light dimmed until it was dark.

“Joel,” a small voice whispered. “Joel.”

Joel groaned. “What?”

“Can I ask you a serious question?” It was Ellie.

“Ellie…” Piper warned with a tiredness in her voice.

“I’m serious!” Ellie said.

“Yeah,” Joel said giving her the go ahead.

“Why did the scarecrow get an award?”

Joel was silent for a moment before he answered. “Because he was outstanding in his field.”

A whispered wave of giggles escaped the two girls. Both of whom didn’t expect the answer.

“You dick! Did you read this?” Ellie asked a bit louder.

“No. Now go to sleep.” Joel commanded.

“Hm,” Ellie mumbled before settling back down. “...Those people you said… there’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right? No one’s gonna find us.”

With those words, Joel was thrown back into his past and all he could hear was his daughter crying in the dark of her room. All sign of sleep and exhaustion evaded him now. “No one’s gonna find us.”

“Okay. Goodnight Pipes” Ellie whispered.

“Night Els…,” Piper replied. “...night Joel.”

꧁_____________꧂

There was no way Piper could ever sleep. Her sister’s words floated around her head and Piper had to be sure. Ellie had to be safe. It felt like eternity waiting to hear Joel’s breathing slow. Once the old man had fallen asleep, Piper peeled herself free from her sleeping bag. Each movement was carefully calculated to achieve the least amount of noise as possible. With her gun in hand and jacket zipped up to the top, Piper climbed on top of the truck, finding a seat on the roof of the car.

She had to admit, the forest was beautiful at night. There was a low chirping noise rumbling throughout the trees. Crickets, Piper guessed and she prayed it wasn’t something more. After a moments, contemplation the teen concluded her original hypothesis was correct and she soon tunned her ear into the other sounds of the night.

Piper was glad that they had the truck. It proved to be a useful vantage point. Even in the dark, Piper felt as if she could see more of the forest, than she would on the ground bringing the teen comfort.

The girl and the woods fell into a rhythmic cycle as the minutes passed. There was the cricket’s song, the breeze tickling the trees, and her own breathing. Again, and again this cycle came. Crickets, breeze, breath. Crickets, breeze, breath Crickets, breeze, breath, shuffling. Piper froze. Her head whipped around, and her gun raised defensively. She was ready to shoot.

“Kid?” A gruff voice spoke. It was Joel. Piper’s shoulders lowered at the sight of the man. “What are you doing?”

Piper didn’t answer for a moment. “On guard.” Not wanting any more conversation, she whirled back around, her sight on the forest once again.

Joel stood up and his hands found their place on his hips. He looked at Piper as she sat defiantly on the truck. Her back turned to him. The sight almost made him chuckle as he saw himself reflected in her figure. Almost. Instead, a worry fell over him. She was a kid. A kid who deemed sleep just as pointless as him. Releasing his hands from his hips, Joel pinched the bridge of his nose. Piper needed to sleep, but she was stubborn. Just like him and if he guessed now, Piper wouldn’t go to sleep without a fight.

He was too tired for this and too old to fight a headstrong teenage girl. Instead, Joel kept his mouth shut, picked up his rifle and turned his back to her, guarding the other half of the forest.

The two held their ground in silence and the forest fell back into the rhythm again. As the pattern repeated, the more Piper felt unease. Sighing, she turned around to find Joel.

“I’m sorry,” Piper said. She wasn’t even sure why she said it, but she knew she needed to.

Joel turned his head around at her voice. He wasn’t sure why she apologized yet still he replied. “It’s fine.”

Silence fell over them again and Piper bit the inside of her cheek. It was awkward to say the least. She waited, but then realized Joel wasn’t going to say anymore, so she turned back around.

“...the stars…are nice,” Joel noted.

Piper looked up for the first time that night. There they were. The stars were breathtaking. She hadn’t ever seen them that clear. “Yeah,” she agreed. Together, Joel and Piper withdrew their attention from the forest to the sky. “You know, Ellie is a fanatic for the stars, space, whatever else is up there.”

Joel glanced at Piper and there he saw it once more. The very expression in the car he saw on her face, now bloomed under the night sky. There was the kid she should be.

“...that one, the one that looks like a demented spider. Apparently its called Hercules.” Piper pointed up into the sky.

“Huh,” Joel hummed.

“Yeah, that’s about all I know. Ellie, I swear, knows them all.”

Joel tore his eyes away from the demented spider constellation. “Kid, you should get some sleep,” Joel suggested.

“In your dreams, Joel.”

꧁_____________꧂

It was official. Ellie hated sleeping outdoors. This was the second time she woke up with a knot in her back. Groaning she pushed herself off the cold ground of the forest. Looking around, she saw the rolled up sleeping bags nearby.

“Look who’s finally awake,” Piper commented as she walked by Ellie carrying her supplies to the truck of the car.

Ellie waved her middle finger in the air for Piper to see earning a laugh from her sister. Soon the young girl’s stomach began to rumble. Fueled by her hunger, Ellie crawled over to the pots and dishes piled together hoping to find something to munch on.

Lifting a lid, she found a boiling liquid. Taking a brief sniff, she pulled back and slammed the lid back on. “Ugh! The fuck is that?”

“You don’t like coffee?” Joel asked.

Whipping her head around to face him, Ellie replied. “If it smells like that, no.” Piper walked up beside her sister and crouched down, lifting up the lid to the coffee pot. Ellie saw the darkened circles underneath her sister’s eyes. “How’d you sleep?” Ellie asked Piper.

“Like shit,” Piper replied. She eyed the coffee. “Can I have some?” Joel nodded and Piper grabbed a cup and poured the black liquid into it. She raised the cup to her lips and drank.

Ellie gagged. “You are no longer my sister.”

Piper chuckled. “You’ll get it one day.” Ruffling Ellie’s hair, Piper stood back up to help Joel finish packing the truck.

“Is that seriously what those Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?” Ellie questioned.

“Well, theirs was a lot fresher than what Bill saved up, but, yeah, this is what they sold,” Joel explained.

Ellie shook her head. “Smells like burnt shit.”

Piper laughed once more. “Alright, hurry up and eat. We’ve gotta leave soon.” Leaving Ellie, to scavenge once more for food amongst the pile of dishes, Piper sipped her coffee. She hoped that maybe the caffeinated liquid would keep her sinking eyes awake and the exhaustion in her bones far away.

꧁_____________꧂

“Eyes on the map,” Joel instructed. His voice clear and firm.

Piper shot up in her seat. Her eyes wide open. She observed she was in the car. The vehicle hummed as it traveled along the road and Piper couldn’t recall how she even got into the car in the first place.

“Alright,” Joel said as the car pulled off to the side of the road, coming to a stop. When the shift stick was in park, Joel turned to the back seat. “Ellie, switch with Piper.”

Shaking her head, Piper replied. “No, I’m fine, just–”

“In the back,” Joel said and Piper knew she couldn’t fight him on this.

Unbuckling her seat belt, Piper reluctantly opened the passenger side door and crawled into the back. On the other hand, Ellie was esctatic to sit up in the front next to Joel. Jumping in her seat and getting a feel for the cushioned leather, Ellie beamed.

“Wow, it’s so much nicer up here. I’m never sitting in the back again!”

Just as Ellie was about to fiddle with the stereo, Joel shoved the map into her hands.

“Here.” Joel pointed to the map. “We’re here and need to go here. Remember.”

Ellie’s eyes narrowed, following Joel’s thick finger as it danced across the map. “76 west and then… 70 west for, like, ever.”

“Yep. Now eyes on the map.”

Rolling her eyes, Ellie glanced back down at the map. Her small fingers ran along the path that Joel had shown her moments before. Each time she got to the end, the image in her mind only grew more potent until Ellie was confident she could recite the map from memory. However, there was only so much of “eye on the map” she could take and soon Ellie diverged her attention elsewhere.

First, she experimented with the rearview mirror. It wasn’t something Joel particularly needed, so Ellie had free rein, so long as she didn’t annoy the old man. The small rectangular mirror, let her see the dusty road behind her. She ogled as the cloud of dust rippled out behind the truck clouding the green scenery behind her. Soon Ellie discovered that the mirror could move, tilting up and down and side to side. She tilted the mirror to look at Joel for a brief moment before she caught his glare. Quickly, she turned the mirror to herself. She extended her legs, leaned in close, and chuckled. Her face looked more stretched out than it normally did, and her eyes looked funky.

Ellie could have looked at herself for god knows how long if it weren’t for the pothole the truck conveniently rolled over. Thumping down in her seat with a huff, Ellie found a new target in the rearview mirror. Piper was fast asleep. Her body limp as her head rested on the stacked up sleeping bags in the back seat. Ellie thought Piper looked weird sleeping. It seemed against her older sister’s nature to relax and be at peace. Afterall, Piper was always on guard with a battle happening deep in the pit of her eyes. Yet, the sight of her sister asleep in the back seat created a warm feeling in Ellie’s chest. Even if the sight of Piper in a dormant state was bizarre, Ellie knew it’s what her sister need. It’s what Piper deserved.

“Where in Wyoming did you say your brother was?” Ellie found herself asking now that the mirror was back in place after Joel corrected the tilt.

“Last contact came through a radio tower close to Cody,” Joel replied.

Nodding Ellie peered down at the map scanning the tiny words and roads for Cody. “Cody, Cody. Ah, man. That is deep up in there.”

“Yeah,” Joel said.

“...And if he’s not there?”

“Then odds are he’ll be near a settlement, probably close to another city out there. Ain’t too many of ’em in Wyoming,” Joel explained.

Soon, Ellie found herself finding the other cities in Wyoming. “Chee-Yen,” she read aloud.

“Cheyenne,” Joel corrected.

Ellie’s eyes widened at Joel’s correction. It couldn’t be right. “Che… really?” Joel nodded. Ellie continued to look for cities. “Cheyenne… Laramie… Casper? What’s his name?”

“Whose name?” Joel wondered.

“Your brother,” Ellie clarified.

Joel breathed in deeply before answering the curious girl. “Tommy.”

“Younger or older?” Ellie curiously asked.

“Younger.”

Peering back at Piper, Ellie asked yet another question. “Why isn’t he with you?” Afterall, her and her sister were always side by side. Never apart and always together.

“A long story,’ Joel said hoping that it would satisfy Ellie. It did not.

Ellie scanned the map once more. “Is it longer than 25 hours? ‘Cause I think that’s what we got.” She peered up at Joel with the most convincing eyes she could conjure.

Joel could feel her expectant gaze on him. Biting his tongue, he continued to drive in silence until Ellie’s stare grew too much. Finally, Joel “Tommy’s what we used to call a ‘joiner.’ Dreams of becomin’ a hero. So he enlisted in the Army right outta high school. A few months later, they ship him off to Desert Storm. It’s what they called that war. It doesn’t matter. Point is, bein’ in the Army didn’t make him feel much like a hero. Cut to 12 years later, outbreak happens. He convinces me to join a group makin’ their way up to Boston, which I did… mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive. It’s where we met Tess. And that whole crew, we, uh… Well, for what it was, it worked. And then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joinin’ the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was 18. Wants to save the world. Pipe dream. Him, Fireflies, all of ’em… delusional. ‘Course, last I heard, he quit the Fireflies, too. So now he’s on his own out there, and… I gotta go get him.”

“If you don’t think there’s hope for the world, why bother going on?” Ellie asked. Joel glanced at her with his brows raised. “I mean, you gotta try, right?”

He shook his head. “You haven’t seen the world, so you don’t know. You keep goin’ for family. That’s about it.”

“I’m not family,” Ellie blurted.

“No…,” Joel paused to look at the young girl next to him. “You’re cargo. And I made a promise to Tess. And she was like family.” There was a flash of change in Ellie’s expression. “But you have Piper. Piper’s your family.”

“Yeah she is,” Ellie said with a dejected tone. “You know she reminds me of you.”

“How so?” Joel wondered as his eyes glanced into the mirror to catch sight of the sleeping teen.

“You’re going for Tommy. Piper goes for me.” Ellie said. “What if you don’t find him?”

“I will.”

“How do you know?” There was a challenge in the young girls voice.

“I’m persistent,” Joel answered.

Ellie smiled. “Yep, exactly like Piper.”

There was an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of Joel’s stomach at Ellie’s conclusion. It was to similar to the thought he buried deep in the back of his head. Piper was like Joel. It was something he didn’t want. Piper shouldn’t be like him. Joel was damaged, old, broken, and cruel with walls built as high as some of the skyscrapers that existed before the Outbreak. Piper was a teenage girl. She was still a kid. She shouldn’t be like him at all.

“Ya got up pretty early,” Joel mentioned. “If you wanna grab more sleep like Piper…”

Ellie waved Joel off. “Pfft. I’m not even tired.”

“Sure,” Joel said trying to fight of a smirk.

꧁_____________꧂

A quiet snore escaped the young girls mouth as she dozed off in the passenger seat. The smirk on Joel’s face finally won when Ellie had closed her heavy eyes. It was now peaceful in the car with the two girls sleeping. Their inhales and exhales were in tandem. Both of their faces were calm as the mid-day dreams over came them.

Joel’s momentary peace and quiet was never meant to last. Soon, there was a stirring in the back seat and a head of dark brown hair sat up. Piper’s hair had frizzed up in her slumber and the young teen tried to soothe the mess with her hands before giving up.

“How long I was out?” Piper asked as the sleep slowly left her voice. Her eyes scanned the scenes passing by the car windows.

Turning his head back to face her, Joel replied, “A few hours.”

Piper nodded before carefully peering over the front seat to find her sister fast asleep. “How long has she been out?”

“Not very long,” Joel said.

“Hmm…,” Piper couldn’t help but softly smile at Ellie as she brushed some stray hairs from her sister’s face. “Where are we now?” Piper grabbed the map from Ellie’s hands.

“Not far from Kanas City,” Joel explained.

She scanned the map and her surroundings for any signs to signify where they were. It didn’t take long for the teen to estimate their spot along the highway. Joel was right. They weren’t far from Kanas City. “We should go around,” Piper whispered.

Joel’s brows raised as his ears caught Piper’s words. “What do you mean?”

Piper solemnly glanced out the window. Her eyes darted back and forth as the sight flew by them. “Heard the QZ is horrible. Definitely not a place we want to be.” Once she had finished speaking, Piper had grown eerily quiet.

Joel wanted to say something. To ask if she was okay, but his vocal chords refused to make a sound. Soon the shuffling of the girl in the passenger seat drew everyone’s attention.

Piper smiled. “Hey there sleepy head.”

Ellie’s eyes closed and opened as they adjust to the harsh light of the day. “Fuck you,” she groaned. Her response made Piper laugh, but her laugh was cut short by the slowing of the truck.

The teen hadn’t been aware of how close they actually were to Kanas City. The road between all the cars and trucks was significantly more narrow than before. In front of them was an obvious barricade. They weren’t able to drive through this. Piper’s jaw clenched as she watched Joel unbuckle his seat. She wanted to tell him to drive back and go around the city. She was sure she saw a route they could take, but it was Joel’s voice that spoke instead.

“Stay put,” Joel told the girls.

Piper and Ellie watched the man look around the cars and underneath the larger trucks before he trekked back with a scowl on his face.

Fuck, the girls thought.

“Where are we?” Ellie asked as soon as Joel got back into the car.

“Kansas City,” Joel grumbled. He motioned for the map and Piper placed it in his hands.

“How far back do we have to go to get around this?” Ellie peered over Joel’s shoulder as worry spread across her face.

Joel sighed looking at the map. They’d have to turn around and drive a few hours just to get around the barricade. To Joel, it wasn’t worth it. Tommy was waiting. Time was precious. “Screw it.” Without another word, Joel pulled away from the barricade and drove the car onto the exit ramp. The road led straight to Kanas City.

Panic filled Piper’s being. “What are you doing?!” She yelled at Joel, “No, no, Joel. Away from the city. I’ve heard some things back in Boston QZ, we don’t–”

He knew the fear in Piper’s expression well, but a teenager’s fears weren’t going to add more time onto their trip than needed. “We can jog right around this tunnel… take the next ramp… and we’re back on the road. Minute tops,” he hurriedly explained to calm the girl.

Piper glared at Joel as she bit her lip. Tears began to well up in her eyes from the pain. The disturbing turning in her gut only got worse as they drove deeper and deeper into the city and the only comfort she could find was gripping the handle of her gun.

“Where the fuck is the highway?!” Joel fumed. His eye frantically over the map and then the road in front of him.

Ellie did her best to help. “I can’t tell from this. I’m all turned around!”

“Don’t look at the state map, Ellie. Look at the inset.” Piper was on the verge of snapping. “That there!”

The younger girl’s voice began to break. “Well, I don’t know where we are in that either! This is my second day in a fucking car. I mean, I think we’re heading north?”

“It’s gotta be the right,” Joel muttered, before swerving the car to the right.

The car jolted everyone as Joel tried find a way out of the labyrinth like city.

“Stop!” Ellie hollered.

The car came to a halt. Tires screeched and Piper barely had time to brace herself on Ellie’s seat. “What the fuck?” She asked her sister. Ellie just stared at pointed out the window.

“Is that the QZ?” Ellie asked. Everyone was now looking at the burned down gate. Smoke was still in the air. “Where the fuck is FEDRA?”

Piper wanted to spew. “Joel–”

“Hey! Please help!” The voice came from outside the car. It was a man. His right leg hung limp behind him and his arms waved in the air.

Her eyes widened and, using her free hand, she grabbed Joel’s shoulder with a painful grip. “Joel, we need to get the fuck out of here!”

Joel’s eyes darkened. “Put your seatbelt on,” he said with a low voice.

Ellie searched his eyes. “Aren’t we gonna help him?”

“No,” Piper and Joel said simultaneously.

There was a click. Then a stomp. Soon the car jumped forward as Joel pressed his foot down on the gas. The truck was headed straight for the man.

“Joel! Reverse!” Piper screamed.

“Fuck!” the man yelled as he jumped out of the way. “Go, go, go!”

In an instance, there was a deafening thud. The car slid. Joel turned the wheel to a nearby building’s glass doors. Gun shots fired. Their heads ducked down as they braced for impact. With a crash, the car came to a halt.

“Fuck,” Joel groaned. He turned to Ellie. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Ellie wheezed.

Quickly, he turned to Piper. “You’re not hurt? Nothin’?”

Piper shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Their momentary relief was destroyed by bullets firing. They had hit the truck’s windows.

“Belts off. Fast!” Joel shouted.

The girls did not waste time unbuckling the seat belts and opening the doors of the truck.

“Let’s see you, motherfucker! Give us your shit, you make it through this! I promise!” One of the raiders yelled.

Once all of them had left the truck and found brief cover, Joel looked around the room. “Hey, you see that hole?” He pointed to a small hole in the drywall. “Can you two squeeze through?”

Ellie and Piper followed Joel’s hand. With one scan of the hole, they knew they could fit.

“Last chance!” the raider snarled.

“When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you squeeze through, and you don’t come out until I say, okay?” Joel instructed the teens.

Ellie nodded her head. The shock evident in her eyes.

Piper shook hers. “No, let me help.” She raised her gun up for Joel to see.

Joel growled and his jaw clenched. “This is not a negotiation. You’re going.”

A gun shot echoed around the room. They seemed to be getting louder and louder with each fire. Ellie felt her legs go limp and a cold sweat over come her body.

“they’re not gonna hit you. Look at me!” Joel told Ellie, “They’re not gonna hit you.”

Bang!

“You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet,” Joel explained and Ellie absently nodded her head.

“I’ve got you Els,” Piper whispered to her sister.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed back with tears in her eyes.

“Okay,” Piper said before turning to Joel and nodding.

“Okay,” Joel commanded. “Go!”

Immediately, Piper shot off the ground and grabbed Ellie’s jacket collar dragging her along. They stayed low to the ground until they reached the hole. “Come on, go!” Piper yelled before shoving Ellie through the hole.

Bang!

Piper cried out in pain as she examined her shoulder. She was shot. The bullet had grazed her arm. “Fuck!” She cried before crawling through the hole.

Another shot was fired.

“Fuck! You motherfucker!” One of the raiders screamed.

There was another shot and Piper could hear the sounds of guns falter. Joel was doing it. He was taking them out one by one.

Crunch.

Glass had been broken and there was heavy breathing. It was breathing that did not belong to the old man. A shadow covered the hole. Ellie’s eyes widened and Piper pulled her back against the wall.

There was a grunt. “Now you’re gonna fuckin’ pay! What you fuckin’ did, you fuckin’ killed yourself, motherfucker!” A raider yelled. The girls could hear the voice so clearly.

Bang.

Something had run into the wall. Piper flinched and Ellie was no longer by her side. Turning her head, she saw her sister at the hole. Her gun in hand.

“Ellie, no,” Piper pleaded as Joel struggle with the raider.

Ignoring her sister, Ellie crawled through the wall.

“Fuck,” Piper groaned before following her sister out the hole.

The sight in front of her was pure chaos. Joel had his head tilted back with a long rifle underneath his chin. Behind him stood a raider. Piper didn’t care to note the specifics about him except for the fact he was choking Joel. It wouldn’t have been long before Joel would lay unconscious on the floor of the abandoned laundromat.

A clear shot rang through the air. The raider fell to his knees. The rifle choking Joel was gone. Ellie had shot the man. Her shoulders were stiff and her eyes were cold. Her skin was paler than white as the gun followed the man as he dragged himself across the floor.

The demeanor in the raider had flipped. Tears screamed down his eyes as the violence in his voice fled. It was replaced by terror as he pleaded with Ellie.

“No, no, no, no, no! It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s over. We’re not fighting anymore. I’m gonna go home. I’ll tell everyone you’re good,” his voice broke as a cry escaped his lips. “I don’t know what to do. My legs don’t work. My mom isn’t far, if you could get me to her. We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn’t know.” Ellie stood unwavering. “I’m Bryan. I’m Bryan. What’s your name?” Bryan whimpered.

Joel stepped forward. “Wait, wait, wait!” Bryan pleaded, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. “You can have it… It’s a good knife.” He tossed the knife to Ellie. It fell to the ground beside her feet.

“Get back behind the wall,” Joel muttered to Ellie. He was still out of breath. His hand came to her shoulder, breaking her from her trance. Lowering the gun, Ellie turned her back to Bryan and crawled back through the wall. “Kid,” Joel said to Piper.

“I’m not a kid,” Piper whispered. With Ellie’s gun was quickly replaced by Piper’s. Joel’s eyes widened.

Bryan’s cried got louder. It annoyed Piper. Someone who moments before seemed to strong, now was at her feet begging for mercy. Something she didn’t have. Not anymore. “No, no, no, no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, please. We could just talk. I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, please. No, no, no! Please! No, please! Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! You don’t have to! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! No, no, no! We can just talk! Mom! Mom! Mom!”

Piper’s heart clenched at Bryan’s call for his mother. It was a brief moment, before her finger squeezed. A shot thundered around the room. Then there was silence and a small hole in the forehead of what used to be Bryan. Piper wanted to revel in it, but instead she felt sick. Swallowing down the rising bile, she lowered her gun. In the silence, adjusted the straps of her backpack and moved to the hole in the wall.

“Let’s go,” she mumbled.

“I can’t fit through,” Joel said.

Piper sighed and grabbed her shoulder massaging the pain. “There’s a door to the next room just around the corner.”

Joel nodded as he shuffled around to the door before turning the knob. The door didn’t open. It wasn’t locked, but it just didn’t open.

“There’s some stuff against the door,” Ellie voiced.

“Well, can you move it?” Joel asked.

“Uh…yeah.”

It didn’t take long for Joel to hear scrapping and shuffling behind the door. Soon the blockage was free and the door swung open. Joel stepped inside and closed the door behind him and darkness flooded the room.

“You okay?” Joel asked to either girl.

Piper didn’t answer. Ellie did. “I’m okay… I’m good. I, uh, got some food in here still, and I got your light still.” Ellie handed Joel the light. “What now?”

“We go up,” Joel answered.

Ellie looked up at Joel. “To get a better look?”

Joel nodded. “Hopefully, we spot a clear route out.” Leaning back, Joel peered out the door, briefly shutting it. His eyes flitted between the girls.

“Ready?” He asked.

Ellie nodded. The two of them turned to Piper. The elder teen gripped her gun close and raised her head up an down.

Light spilled into the room. The bright light momentarily blinded the three of them as they rushed outside. Their bodies crouched down low as they ran. One fact rang clear in their minds. They had to get far away from here. Some place safe, although it seemed as if they’d never be safe again.

꧁_____________꧂

“You fingers go here and then…Piper are you listening to me?” Levi asked with a knowing smile on his face.

“Huh? Oh yeah. Totally,” Piper chirped back.

“Right. How was I telling you to hold the gun?” Levi knew Piper’s reaction before the guilt on her face could manifest.

“Like…this?” Piper fiddled with the gun in her hand and Levi shook his head.

“No. Here,” Levi said as he reached over to fix Piper’s grip on the gun. Fingers go here and use both hands.”

“But that’s not how–,” Piper muttered.

“I know that’s how you were taught by FEDRA. It’s wrong. Now listen to me sweetheart,” Levi continued on with his demonstration. “...Soon enough you’ll be able to shoot.”

After some adjustments, Piper finally mastered her grip on the gun. Levi beamed. “See, now. I want you to try your hand at shooting. Don’t be afraid to miss.”

Piper huffed and moved her feet to a better stance, the very one she saw Levi take when he used his gun. Her small eyes narrowed to the targets on the other end of the room. They were old beer bottles, but viable targets nonetheless. Taking a slow breath in, Piper pulled her finger back, trigger the gun to fire. She missed.

“Fuck,” Piper hissed.

Levi chuckled. “Hey, what did I say? You can miss. You’re safe here. You miss here so that when your shot counts, you don’t miss. Got it?”

The young girl nodded before turning to look back at the targets. Piper puffed her cheeks with disappointment. She wanted to hit the target. She wanted to never miss again. She wouldn’t make a shot that night. She wouldn’t make a shot until it counted. Yet, time and time again, she heard Levi’s voice saying, “Try again,” and she’d get back up to fire once more.

꧁_____________꧂

Refuge was found in a broken down bar. The windows were sealed with old newspapers. To pass the time, Ellie tried to read the clippings. Some were stories about dead people. Boring. Then there were some stories about what the local school board was doing. Also boring. As she jumped from story to story, Ellie concluded that the news was boring. Instead she took to peeking out the window in the cracks where the news didn’t cover.

“They’re not FEDRA, and they’re not Fireflies, so who are they?” Ellie asked. She peered up at Joel who was also looking out the window.

“People,” Joel grumbled.

Ellie nodded and drew her knees in close. Her tiny body crumpled together on the wooden floor. “Are we okay in here?” Ellie’s voice was small.

Joel’s ear’s perked at the sound of uncertainty in Ellie’s voice. He withdrew from the window and sat down on an abandoned chair. “For a little bit, maybe. Looks like they’re checkin’ out apartment buildings first. But they’ll be coming through these places soon enough.”

There was a sigh from the corner of the room. Piper’s head fell back against the wall. “There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away,” she noted. Her long dark hair fell to the side as her eyes cast down. She had lost her hair tie a while back during the chaos of running from building to building.

"Yeah. Saw it,” Joel said.

Ellie sat up and peeked out the window once more. Her brown eyes darted around until they landed on the building, she believed Joel and Piper were discussing. “So that’s the one?” She pointed to the building.

“As soon as we don’t hear a truck, we move,” Joel instructed. “Fast as we can.” There was a loud hum as an armoured truck drove by and Ellie ducked down. The group froze as they listened. Their shoulders were tensed and backs stiff.

The rumbling of the trucks dispersed and a laboured groan escaped Piper’s mouth.

“Are you okay?” Joel asked. He was now standing up and moving towards the young teen.

Piper made a noise that was a mix of a scoff and a snicker. “I’m not the one you should be asking.”

Joel groaned at Piper’s stubbornness. “You were shot, weren’t you?”

“No.” Piper shook her head.

“I saw you got s–,” Joel rebutted.

“The bullet grazed me!” Piper heaved. “It’s not the end of the fucking world. I’m fine.” She squeezed her arm in hopes to divert the pain. “Ellie, how are you doing?” Piper tensely asked.

“I’m alright,” Ellie replied. “Joel?”

Roughly running his hands through his peppered hair, Joel answered Ellie. “Yeah.” Taking a few more steps closer to Piper, Joel crouched down. His body only a few feet away from the girl. “Thing is, is I didn’t hear that guy comin’, and… you shouldn’t have had to… both of you shouldn’t have had to…you know?”

“Well, you’re glad we did,” Piper concluded.

Joel shook his head. He was glad to be alive, but not at the expense of child. “You’re just a kid,” Joel pinched his nose. “You shouldn’t know what it means to… But… shootin’ or… I know what it’s like… first time that you, uh, hurt… someone like that. If you, uh… w… uh…I’m not good at this,” Joel confessed.

“Yeah, you really aren’t,” Ellie commented.

“I mean, it was my fault,” Joel apologized. You shouldn’t have had to. And I’m sorry.”

Those two words echoed in Piper’s head. They were such simple and unthreatening words, yet their delivery broke down her walls. I’m sorry. Piper gulped and dug her nails into the palms of her hands. I’m sorry. A new ache formed in her body at the sound of the words and the pain from her shoulder only dulled in comparison to the pain of her heart. I’m sorry. Instantly, her vision grew blurry, and against her will, a few tears escaped and trailed down her dirtied cheeks.

“It wasn’t my first time,” Piper sniffled . She looked up forcing the tears away.

“Right. Show me your grip,” Joel looked at Piper and never for a moment did he dwell on her tears. Piper was grateful for that as she pulled out her gun and showed Joel her grip. He took a step closer to check. “Good.” Then Joel turned to Ellie asking her to do the same. “Finger off the trigger. Now, who taught you that?” Joel asked Ellie.

“FEDRA school,” Ellie mumbled.

“Figures. Your thumb…over your thumb. Left hand… squeezes down on the right. You got it?” Ellie nodded. Suddenly, Joel’s hand reached out and tried to yank away Ellie’s gun. Her grip stayed unwavering. “There ya go. Look,” Joel noted.

Piper smiled as Ellie’s grin grew from Joel’s praise.

“How come you didn’t check Piper’s grip?” Ellie asked Joel.

Piper chirped up before Joel could reply. “FEDRA didn’t teach me to shoot,” She said and all elements of a smile has vanished.

Joel looked back at Piper before standing up. The joints in his knees and hips were displeased at this sudden movement. His movement created a wave of action from the other girls. Piper stood up and Ellie placed her gun in her hand.

Tapping Ellie on the shoulder, Joel shook his head. “Uh-uh. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.”

Piper snickered. “Be fucking hilarious.”

Ellie whipped her head around to face her sister. “You fucker.”

“Hurry it up, girls,” Joel grumbled as he retrieved his things. The girls quit their bickering to do just as Joel had.

Soon enough, the three of them were standing at the door. They shared a cautious breath as they awaited Joel’s cue.

“We’ll get through this,” Joel found himself saying. His eyes flashed with worry as he glanced at the weary expressions on the girl’s faces.

Ellie shrugged her backpack and looked up at Joel. “We know.”

For a moment, they waited. All their ears tunned into the sounds of the world outside the degenerating bar. With bated breathes they stood. Ellie gripped the straps of her bag tightly finding comfort in the constriction. Piper stood low behind Joel. The pain in her arm was now blaring at her. She clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the pain to subside. All Piper had to do was wait it out. Soon they’d be safe. Soon they’d be out of this god forsaken city.

“Go,” Joel commanded. The door shut behind them and a bar was left empty once more.

꧁_____________꧂

Joel was old. It was a fact that he knew quite well. It seemed to be Joel’s downfall that he was old in a world that favored the young. Especially when it came to survival. Except now, Joel had youth on his side, except this youth seemed…well, partially incompetent.

“You’re just gonna put your foot here,” Joel explained. “One, two…” With all his strength he raised Ellie into the air. The young girl’s arms flailed around trying to find stability.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Ellie cursed.

Piper couldn’t contained her laughter as she watched Joel and Ellie struggle.

Joel huffed and rolled his eyes at Piper’s reaction. “You could always help.”

“Nah, you’ve got it,” Piper replied.

Ellie cried out as Joel’s muscles struggled to keep her up. “Straighten up. I got you,” Joel said.

It took a moment, but then Ellie followed Joel’s advice. Her hands reached the opening and her fingers scrounged around for a grip. It didn’t take long for the weight on Joel’s shoulders and arms to lessen.

“Okay, I’m in.” Ellie’s voice echoed around the opening.

“Take a look around first. Ellie.” Joel instructed. There was silence from the other side. “God damn it,” Joel muttered.

“Hey, that's my sister,” Piper reprimanded the old man.

As if on cue, a nearby steel door swung open and Ellie’s head appeared. “Where would you be without me, huh?” Ellie smiled.

“By now, Wyoming,” Joel responded as he walked passed Ellie into the building.

Ellie’s shoulder’s dropped. “Oh, yeah. Walked into that one.”

Once they were all in the stairwell, Joel at the two girls. “All right. We’ll make our way up, and come morning, I’ll take a look at the city, and find our way out.”

A large white sign flared in the dark of the stairwell, illuminated by the flashlights of the group. Ellie groaned upon reading the mixture of numbers and words on the metallic surface. “We’re goin’ up 42 flights?”

“Forty-five,” Joel corrected and then shook his head. “But no… not all the way.”

Piper slumped against the concrete wall with a bang. The contents of her backpack were squished between her and the unmoving force of the wall. “Jesus. How far?”

The man’s brow furrowed with thought as he calculated an answer for the girls. “As far as I can make it.”

And so their ascent up the stairs began. Their footsteps clambered along the thick walls echoing to and fro. The stair case had a supreme level of acoustics. It was a fact acknowledged by all three of them, especially Ellie. By floor ten, the young girl’s thigh muscles contracted and with each step the burning sensation only grew stronger. In her mind she prayed Joel could only take so many more. Afterall, he was old. However, Ellie realized she had misjudged Joel’s determination and strength by floor seventeen. Her body was heating up and sweat oozed out of her skin. She was suffering, and it seemed like no one else was. Piper stood stoically as she climbed each step. The only hint of their physical stress was a slight shade of pink that tinted her cheeks. On the other hand, Joel’s brow shimmered under the light of his flashlight. He was sweating. He was feeling the effects of their activities. He was suffering, but not enough.

“What did the policeman say to his belly button?” Ellie asked with a devious smile as she watched Joel’s shoulder’s slump with defeat.

Piper snorted before rolling her eyes at Ellie. “I don’t know…um…hi?”

“Nope,” Ellie bit her lip trying to contain her laughter. “You’re under a vest!”

“Jesus,” Joel mumbled and Piper wasn’t sure if it was a prayer or a curse.

The stairs now echoed a new sound, Ellie’s giggles. “Okay, okay. Next one.” She cleared her throat. “What’s the difference between a well-dressed person on a unicycle and a poorly dressed person on a bike?” Dark brown eyes darted to Piper and Joel for any hint of an answer. “No one? Okay,” and throwing on her best posh accent, Ellie drove the punch line home. “Attire.”

Again, the young girl was thrown into a fit of giggles as Joel grumbled to himself occasionally sending her a warning glare when he broke free from his elderly annoyance of the youth present.

With each joke Ellie delivered, the laboured and steadfast demeanor Piper held up slowly chipped away. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact her body no longer had the will to fight against the abominable two-liner jokes, or if it was the sight of Ellie at such ease and joy from tormenting her and Joel. Although, Piper had to admit seeing Joel at such loose level of discomfort was quite funny. It was moments like these she had to remember when Joel would eventually discard her and Ellie just like everyone else.

“Ooo! This one. Okay,” Ellie cleared her throat. “What did the fisherman say to the magician?” She paused waiting for the internal drum roll to conclude. “Pick a cod, any cod.”

Piper sinched her lips together to contain the outburst waiting to pop. She was so focused on not laughing that she almost ran into Joel. The man had stilled and with his hands on his hips he glowered down at the girls with an unknown look in his gaze.

“No more jokes,” Joel said.

“Okay, just trying to lighten the mood,” Ellie mumbled as she shoved her joke book into her back pocket.

Upon seeing the book placed away, Joel collected his breath and the marched up the stairs continued.

They had passed four more floors when Ellie spoke again. “Hey, you know that guy who said he was hurt?” She waited for Joel’s acknowledgement. “How did you know it was an ambush?”

Joel’s chest rose pushing his shoulder close to his ears. “I’ve been on both sides.” He glanced back at caught Piper’s knowing stare. “It was a long time ago. We did what we needed to survive.”

“You and Tess?” Ellie asked. It was strange to think of Joel and Tess like the man who attacked them. They were protectors and that’s all Ellie had known them to be. She didn’t think she could imagine Tess hurting anyone. Joel on the other hand, she could see it…sort of.

“And the people we were with,” Joel explained. “My brother, too.”

Ellie took in a shaking breath, which she blamed on the physical exertion. “Did you kill innocent people?” Her voice faltered.

Joel was silent.

“Ellie,” Piper interjected. “Save your breath for the stairs.”

Joel’s jaw unclenched at Piper’s words. He was grateful for her interruption. He knew the answer and it was not an answer he wanted to tell Ellie. In a world full of death and decay around everyone corner, sometimes all you could do was kill. So, yes. Yes, Joel had killed innocents. Back then he wasn’t ashamed. He did it to survive. He had to. Now…now Joel just wanted to lie.

꧁_____________꧂

The stairwell door slammed open and Ellie toppled inside. Her knees hit the carpeted floor as breath hit her lungs like a tidal wave. “Holy shit,” she tiredly said.

Piper plopped down next to her throwing her head between her knees. “Yeah,” she agreed.

“Thirty-three floors ,” Ellie barely voiced. “That’s good.”

“It’s gonna have to be,” Joel panted. He placed his coarse hand on the wall for stability. Everything burned: his lungs, his calves, his thighs, hell, even muscles he didn’t know existed burned in a frenzy.

Pushing herself off the floor, Piper crawled to a standing position. “Come on,” she huffed.

Ellie shuffled around before reaching her hand out to Piper. Together the two of them got Ellie to a stand.

Joel looked at the two girls with a puzzled expression. The power of the recovery in the youth astounded him. “Gimme a minute,” Joel begged.

Ellie chuckled. “Get up, you lazy ass.”

“Lazy ass,” Joel grunted as he stood up. “Fifty-six years old, you little shit.”

Piper and Ellie laughed at his response as they watched Joel waddle down the maze of hallways on the floor before entering a large office. The office was in a pristine condition considering the start of the apocalypse two decades prior. The carpet was free of dirt and Piper could still see the design within the fabric. Ellie was in awe at the fluffiness of the couch cushions in the seating area. They were a little stiff but practically new. She smiled to herself as she laid a few of the cushions out on the floor for the three of them.

“Better than any bed I’ve ever slept–Joel?” Ellie turned her attention to Joel who had just shattered the glass door. “Joel.” He didn’t respond. Ellie looked at Piper with a worried shine in her eyes. “Joel!” Ellie yelled.

The man in question turned around with a quizzical look. “What?”

“What are you doing?” She pointed to the glass now on the floor. Not the best sleeping conditions, if she was saying anything.

Joel furrowed his brow as if his actions are obvious. Piper sighed and dropped her bag onto the floor before laying down next to Ellie. “He doesn’t want someone sneakin’ up on us while we’re sleeping.”

“Ohh, I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch,” Ellie animately said. Her hands marched around in the air like feet ‘smashing’ the shattered glass. “Are you sure you’re gonna hear it?” The young girl asked Joel.

“Of course, I’ll hear it,” Joel said. “That’s the damn point.” He glanced down at the ground. The glass was evenly spread out. It’d be difficult to not step on the makeshift alarm. Satisfied, he shuffled over to the girls and sat down on the open cushion next to Piper.

“If he doesn’t,” Piper added, “I will.”

“Okay. Well, good night,” Ellie said. She snuggled into the couch cushions and drew her jacket tightly around her body.

“Yeah, good night,” Joel whispered back as he laid down settling in for the night.

“Night,” Piper mumbled.

A darkened shade of blue encased the room. Everything was a different shade and Piper could make out each of the objects in the room. The desk was a darker blue than the chair behind it. The ceiling was a light blue, and the young girl was sure she could hear the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, even though they were turned off. Shifting around on the cushion, Piper let out a disappointed sigh. Sleep evaded her.

“Hey,” Joel spoke.

“Yeah?” Piper hesitantly responded. Behind her, a small snore escaped Ellie’s mouth. Piper could hear Joel let out a heavy breath.

“When we were talkin’ about hurtin’ people…,” Joel paused. “What did you mean it wasn’t your first time?”

Piper rolled around onto her side. Her eyes glued to Joel’s back. “…I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“All right,” Joel quietly said. “…You don’t have to. I’m just sayin’… it isn’t fair, your age… havin’ to deal with all of this…”

Piper’s nose scrunched up and a line between her brows formed. “There’s a lot I’ve had to deal with…” Tears built up in the corner of her eyes. Piper wasn’t going to cry. She didn’t want to cry, but why was it so easy to cry at night? “The first time I…I was twelve…does it gets easier when you get older?” Piper sniffled.

“No, not really.” Joel rolled over and found lips pulling into a tight line. Piper was crying. The dark hid her tears well, but Joel was a father. He knew when a child was crying. “But still.”

Piper gulped and took in a shaky breath. She wasn’t crying. She refused to cry, but it was a lie. She knew and she knew Joel knew. Yet, there was an ease that filled her being as she cried on the floor of that office with Joel laying across from her. Even as war and torment surged outside, as people searched for them, Piper felt safe. She was safe under the shadow of Joel’s figure. Piper was safe, so she could cry.

“The reason Ellie asked whether you’d hear the glass or not is ’cause both of us have noticed you don’t hear too well from your right side… Is it ’cause you were shot there?” Piper pondered once her tears had subsided.

“Probably more from shootin’,” Joel honestly replied. “So if you wanna keep your hearin’, you stick to that knife.”

Piper chuckled and a small smile crept onto her face. “Too late.” Piper asked, “Joel?”

“Hm?” Joel raised his brow.

“Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?” Piper smirked.

“What?” Joel’s head turned to look over his shoulder. Utter confusion was placed on his face at Piper’s words.

“Yeah,” Piper whispered. “It runs in your jeans.” Then she laughed. It was a quiet laugh given the circumstances, but a laugh nonetheless.

Joel rolled back over. “Jesus,” he said before laughing along. “That is so goddamn stupid.” He shook his head at himself for laughing at the joke, yet he couldn’t stop. He laughed and then Piper laughed. He feared it be an on going cycle that would awaken Ellie.

“You laughed, motherfucker,” Piper noted. “Just wait till I tell Ellie.”

“I didn’t laugh,” Joel gruffly said. There was still a hint of laughter in his face.

“Yes, you did,” Piper said. She wouldn’t let him deny it.

“Jesus, I’m losin’ it,” Joel smiled. His face felt funny and alien as the smile stretched across his features. His cheeks hurt and his eyes crinkled in a way that they hadn’t in years. Piper had made Joel smile.

“You’re losin’ it big time,” Piper giggled and Joel laughed once more.

“Go to sleep,” Joel gently said.

Piper fondly smiled. “You too, Joel. You too.”

꧁_____________꧂

Sleep found Joel quickly that night. It must have been the thirty-three floors of stairs, the fight for his life, and driving consistently for days that finally brought him some rest. His mind was blank. He didn’t dream and didn’t think of Sarah, of Tess, or of Tommy. He felt at ease. Soon the pleasantry of slumber escaped him. The room was lighter and faded color crept into his view.

“Joel?” A muffled voice was calling out to him. It sounded worried. It sounded scared. Joel’s eyes widened. “Joel!”

He grunted as he lifted his head. There was Ellie and Piper. Ellie was looking down at him. Her dark eyes reflected the fear and confusion in Joel’s. Piper sat with her jaw clenched. Her shoulder were held back and an inferno was a lit in her eyes. The thing that scared Joel the most was where Piper was looking. She wasn’t looking at him. No, Piper was glaring down the barrel of a gun.

Something cold touched the back of Joel’s head. He whipped around. There in front of him was a child with paint around his eyes. In his hand was a gun.

Well, fuck.

꧁_____________꧂

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ultraviolet-cello · 8 months

Text

Gooooood morning Trigun fandom, I'm up bright and early, ready to sink my teeth into today's analysis/detailed watchthrough episode - 11. To A New World.

I can't believe we're almost done with @tristampparty. These 12 days have been a blast and I'm very glad that I got to chat abt them!! I've been in a bout of artblock recently too, so I'm glad that I can just ramble instead!

Spoilers for Trigun Stampede and Trigun Maximum, and CWs for. okay this one is a Lot, but discussion of violation of bodily autonomy, sexual assault and trauma, pregnancy, transphobia, harm coming to children, Millions Knives in general, Vash's passive suicidal tendencies. If I think of any more I'll pop them up here but this episode is a heavy one!

If you wanna skip those first few CWs (Totally understandable <3), you can skip the paragraphs labelled with a [CW] at the front.

[CW] Okay so we're gonna tail off the end of Episode 10 for a second, but uh. Knives in this scene is using extremely Loaded Language to outright tell Vash that there is something wrong with him that needs to be fixed.

Just to be clear I do think Vash is very trans-coded (intentionally or not), and that very strongly influences how I interpret this scene - I myself am a trans man as well.

Cool, moving on! That's all really for the end of ep 10, I just needed to point out that Knives is using language that is commonly used to justify corrective sexual assault; which is pretty much what my reading of this scene is analogous to.

what in the fresh hell i got jumpscared by dub again. returning to subs hold on a moment. Like i've been checking dub occasionally to match up some dialogue and make sure I'm not being misled by Subtitle Jank but I'm one of those guys who can't listen to anything without subtitles lmao

But i also think i do get the funniest possible translation of this line - actually wait no i hate the double meaning (with Vash's body being used to kickstart the pregnancy imagery). was that intentional. who did this.

Anyway Meryl kicking Wolfwood is really funny but also like. Yeah. justified. She's having a no good awful time but like. She's so willing to believe in Vash, to chase after him even into Extremely Dangerous conditions (There's those hints of Trimax Meryl again....) and Wolfwood is being an ass here. (An understandable ass. But an ass nonetheless). Which is to say YEAHHH MERYL GET HIS ASS!!!

Knives' gay little like. bodysuit here. He and Vash have the same build but their respective clothes make them stand out very differently. Also that Knives' stuff seems to have more muscle definition (HYDRATE. You shouldn't have that Knives you need water :pensive:) which could be building towards his more intimidating appearance.

Also I'd be a fool to not show everyone my initial reaction to this

I've talked a little bit about how Vash uses his gun as a tonfa (thwacky baton) most of the time in melee combat, and I think that's a great way to show him utilizing something Knives gave him to Kill as a nonlethal weapon - in this, however, he doesn't have it and his normally very fluid very good form martial arts is flailing and panicked. Vash is pretty good at keeping his cool in most combat situations, and is a very skilled fighter. Seeing him lose that cool and just start struggling when Knives tries to grab him is :(

Once again the metal/organic dichotomy is coming into play - the creation of inorganic but the destruction that comes from the organic. Typically plant (as in flora) powers in media lend themselves to being creation powers, life, and healing. But Vash here has that plant (flora) theme but those are very much a force for destruction.

Also Knives with the angelic white, and Vash with the black.

I hate Conrad So Much (he's such a good character). Like we Know to some extent that dependent plants are self-aware enough to feel pain, to hold onto memories, to hatred, to love. They don't have consciousness the same way humans or Independents do, but they feel, they live, they understand what Vash tells them. Maybe it is a shallow form of themselves. But I think something a lot of people fail to realize is that (some, not all, because they are individuals even throughout a hivemind) plants appear to enjoy their purpose.

Once again the memory that is shared with Knives in Trimax of a woman and her child thanking the plant for her service and she smiles? After being fused, that plant held onto that memory. I've been given no reason to believe that plants in Tristamp are different, so Conrad is just,,, ignoring the subtleties of plants and taking away their agency to choose for themselves. Doubly so for Knives, who can communicate efficiently with them.

A very quick blink and you'll miss it detail is that Vash says "It was our fault humans crashed here!". The shifting blame and guilt between the two is something that is fighting the narrative allll the time, but Vash attributing to both of them as an appeal to Knives is interesting to relay how he feels.

I also don't think Vash is right, though, when he says the only reason humans abuse plants is because they crashed. Tesla was before, Chronica in Trimax has apparently seen independent fusions before (For what reason?). Like yeah to this extent it's a result of the big fall, but there'd still be problems without it. Nobody is right in this argument lmao

(except me. I'm always correct about everything ever)

[CW] Once again - violating Vash's consent and autonomy because he does not agree with or differs from Knives. Corrective violation, in this case. It's also important that it's Meryl who calls this out - she has to really really struggle for her autonomy to be important. She's small, carry-able, inexperienced, doesn't have any special powers or genetic modification. She's carrying a tiny gun from a man who can never back her up anymore. In fact, nobody is backing her up! She's out here alone! But she's sticking up for Vash. She cares about him,,,, so much

SURPRISE ROBERTO ATTACK [sobs]

Meryl pulled the nail out of him and placed his hands gently over the wound, as one might do in a casket. A memorial of cigarettes and his flask. All this will be destroyed soon, but Meryl did give him a funeral to the best of her ability.

Knives using Roberto's image is cruel as hell. Not to Vash but to ME. He's already dead you can't do this to meeee. "How do you think they'll react when they learn you caused the big fall" He will never learn it!! he never got the chance!!!

So fun fact you can actually eat geraniums. It's just that if Rem had said yes Vash probably would have eaten it right there and then. I've made that mistake before (told one of my class that nasturtiums were edible and he just ate one. right from the plant)

So; the Tesla scene. Something I do want to point out is that Rem finds them almost immediately, and Knives doesn't immediately pass out - Is he still catatonic enough to miss Rem's speech, or did he hear it? Because the reason that Vash turned out like he did is because he was awake to go through that with Rem - Knives was unconscious the entire time and didn't get to start that trauma recovery.

It's also important to recognize that these memories could be unreliable, especially as Knives tampers with them later.

I do want to know which version of the Bible Knives was reading. Because depending on translation/version, you can get Very different ideas out of that.

Anyway Knives is kind of beginning his spiral in that memory - "Humanity never learns" kinda shit, which seems to take place after Tesla. Who knows how long. But baby Vash calls that out and goes "yeah lets have faith"! Baby Knives looks a tad shocked and then Present Knives just. Cuts off the memory. What was the ensuing conversation!!! Hello???

Like he's clearly Having Thoughts (The Horror), we just don't get to know what those were.

So remember when I said it was interesting that Vash said it was "our" fault that the ships crashed, sharing the blame?

Yeah that gave Knives some ammo that just. Broke him. Shifts it allllll to Vash. Update Vash's description to running on 18 guilt complexes, CPTSD, and bisexuality.

[CW] There's so many different forms of assault, metaphorical and. Not. That is happening in this scene from mind violation to Knives literally using Vash's (specifically Vash's) body as a vessel to impregnate other plants which. Hey did you know that pregnancy is a massive fear of a lot of trans men. So many transphobes reduce trans men to their capability to have children, as if that's all they're good for (even if it would kill them.), and that often leads to corrective rape in order to "remind them of biological reality". In this case, Vash is a plant, he's meant to create, and yet he doesn't. But he's still being used to create anyway.

Again, Meryl also directly calls out Vash's lack of consent and gets shot down by Conrad. The whole scene is just. Hgnrhgnhrhnrnrn. It's So,,, everything to me, because it's a really good scene and shows you how far gone Knives is in Tristamp.

There are panels in Trimax that are,,, the imagery is there, but it's very overt in Tristamp.

Also hey yeah. Why is Conrad still alive?? Did he have access to cold sleep? or it's probably the robotics but did he not think of enhancing humans that way? It might just be a temporary solution, I guess, given that he is. Actively coughing up blood.

Alright! I have finished this part of the analysis that I always Feel Strongly about lmao - I have fun doing it but that's such an emotionally heavy episode.

#cli speaks #trigun #trigun stampede #tristampparty #cli analysis

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kindoffruity · 2 years

Text

Smitten - Final Chapter

Summary: Neteyam is all patched up, it's time to mate.

Warnings: This is definitely not canon compliant, this is my world. This chapter is technically rated M. Now, I have incorporated enough stuff rated T to balance out for those of you who are not into smut. Because let's be honest, not everyone likes it. With that, I marked it "-The Bond-" to signal when there will actually be sex. Also it's pretty long.

Smitten: Final Chapter - Bond - Both Perspectives

Aonung learned about six new things about Neteyam in the days he was injured.

First, Neteyam was not a morning person.

Every morning, Aonung would wake up to the sun creeping in. Neteyam would be fast asleep in his arms, Aonung could barely escape without Neteyam sort of whining. “I need to go..” Aonung would whisper trying to break free from his sleeping lover's arms, “No.. Just five more minutes.” Neteyam would sleepily beg. But it was never just five minutes. Aonung had fallen for it too many times, giving in to five more minutes he would wake up an hour later to his father yelling outside of his home. It always left him rushing and running around, even while he ran around, Neteyam would sleep peacefully.

Neteyamn would usually wake up confused just before he needed to actually move, he never actually recalled Aonung leaving the bed. He usually rolled over to Aonung’s spot and bundled in real tight.

Second, Neteyam would sometimes get nightmares.

It wasn’t often, but twice in a row, Aonung was woken up to Neteyam shouting and clutching his chest. It would take Neteyam hours to fall back asleep, usually they took a walk on the beach to pass the time. “I’m sorry I woke you.. You can go back to sleep, I will be fine.” Neteyam would reassure him that he could go to sleep, but Neteyam still had bandages on his stomach. Aonung worried that anything could happen, the stitches could come undone. He didn’t need to sleep that much. “What was it about..you had the same dream yesterday?” Aonung would hold him from behind and Neteyam relaxed against him.

“Since I was younger.. I’ve had a recurring dream.. More like a nightmare, I guess. We are at war,” Neteyam starts his eyes closing as he recalls the dream vividly as it has haunted him since he was 15. “We are gathering materials, ammunition and weapons, we are supposed to keep watch but we don’t. We go to help the warriors get the guns, we should have kept watch- they attack us.” Neteyam takes a deep breath, opening his eyes and promising to himself that it’s not real. “In my dream, I was shot. I have never seen the end of the dream, I usually wake up as soon as the bullet hits me. It feels so real sometimes.. But I know it’s not.” Neteyam expressed, he was holding onto Aonung’s arms to ground himself down.

“You must think I am childish, having these silly dreams. We have not been at war for sometime- let us go.” Neteyam had never shared that nightmare before, he was embarrassed to be so vulnerable. “I don’t think you’re childish.. I’m sorry that you have those nightmares. I wish I could protect you from them.” Aonung genuinely means this. Neteyam can only think that Aonung is a great listener that makes him feel safe.

“Growing up, I had a nightmare where I was drowning. Ironic, right? Because I am a good diver now. But I am in the ocean, and I am trying to swim up. However, no matter how fast I kick my legs, I am not moving. I am stuck in the same place, feeling helpless and unable to take a breath.” Aonung explained, “But right before I pass out someone grabs me and yanks me out of the water. I never get to see them, I never even get the opportunity to thank them. I’d like to thank them one day.” Aonung wanted Neteyam to know he wasn’t crazy, sometimes even he had dreams that scared him.

“It was probably me, I’m pretty much a hero.” Neteyam joked, bringing up Aonung’s hand and pressing a kiss to it. “You might be right, Forest Boy. But I think those baby lungs of yours would have collapsed.” Aonung teases, though part of him feels like it could have been Neteyam.

“Knowing that, I’d still go to save you regardless.” Neteyam admits with a small smile, turning around in his arms for a hug. Aonung knows Neteyam means it, while it is endearing the thought scares him. Aonung knows that if it came to him, Neteyam would sacrifice himself for him.

Thirdly, Neteyam did not know how to be taken care of.

Despite the obvious injuries that he had retained, Neteyam was adamant about making himself useful. He would try to sharpen Aonung’s spear for him, or set aside his armor and riding gear. Neteyam should have been in bed resting, but would get up to clean, organize Aonung’s things and would even leave the Marui limping with his bow and arrow, practicing to polish up his skills.

It was probably the second time Aonung could recall a serious argument.

He had returned from the reef, as usual, he carried a shell or something pretty that reminded him of Neteyam. He had caught Neteyam outside, firing his arrow against a specific part of a tree as target practice. Aonung wouldn’t have had a problem with it if Neteyam hadn’t tried to climb the tree to gather his arrows.

Neteyam nearly slipped, wincing as he pulled out the arrow from the tree and tossing it back on the ground so he could continue.

“What are you doing?” Aonung was annoyed, he didn’t even bother to hide it. “I am practicing, I do not wish to be soft by the time I heal.” Neteyam would explain as he jumped down off the tree to his feet. Neteyam tried not to wince as his legs hit the ground, he knew Aonung would have a heart attack. Aonung didn’t understand him, he needed to always be ready.

“That is enough.” Aonung warned him, clearly just concerned. “You are not my parent, I love you. And I would do anything for you, but you need to respect that I need to do this, I cannot be cooped up in a house as if I am a damsel.” Neteyam didn’t turn back to look at Aonung as he picked up his arrows.

“If you cared about me, you’ll put your bow down. I don’t care how often you practice once you are healed- but you will never heal if you are out here climbing trees.” Aonung tried to be level-headed, he did. Neteyam turned around, his bow at his side as he stared at his lover. “If you cared about me, you’d let me do what I need to do.” Neteyam countered. Aonung growled at his lover, dropping the vibrant pink shell he had collected for his lover.

“Why are you so stubborn? You are not at war! You do not need to be constantly on edge, this is extreme even for you. You have nothing to prove!” Aonung shouted, he couldn’t recall ever really yelling at his lover. “You do not understand! Aonung, I cannot lie here like some useless thing- I can never explain my thought process. This is just how I am, I need to be useful. I need to be strong. This is a symbol of weakness!” Neteyam pointed to his injury with regret, “if I was stronger, it would not have happened!”

Ah, there it was.

Neteyam had blamed his injury on himself.

“Ma’Neteyam.. Come here.” Aonung sighed softly, opening his arms up to his lover. Neteyam dropped his bow and immediately attached himself into the others arms, hugging him tight and burying his head in his chest. Aonung smelled like saltwater. Weird, he never thought this scent would be home to him. “Do not blame yourself for your injuries, you did very well for being on your own. You must give yourself credit. I never once thought less of you, in fact, I admire your strength, I wish I could be as strong as you.” Aonung ran his fingers through his braids with a small smile as he held him close.

“I know I can’t force you into bed.” Aonung needed to think of something that would work for both of them. “How about we train together? You can target practice, but with me here so I can get the arrows for you. This way we’re both happy. You won’t hear me complain about your injuries and you get to practice.” Aonung decided to compromise, Neteyam was stubborn and he wasn’t going to take that away from him.

“I’d like that..” Neteyam felt spoiled as Aonung kissed his forehead and then retrieved every arrow for him for the next few hours until he felt satisfied with his training for the day.

Aonung could admit, he didn’t realize how much he needed to polish his climbing skills until Neteyam was behind him laughing at him.

Fourthly, Neteyam seemed to love his tattoos.

At night, when the couple should have been sleeping. Neteyam would often spend time tracing the series of lines that adorned his arms. Aonung would pretend to sleep while his finger seemed to admire every droplet of ink. Neteyam did this when he couldn’t sleep, “I wonder if it hurts..” Neteyam would talk to himself quietly.

Then his attention would drag to the tattoo on his chest, his fingers were more delicate there as the ink was still fresh and even a bit tender as it was the newest piece to adorn his body. “Protecting home?” Neteyam questioned, his words were slurred as if he was ready to pass out while his fingers guided over the ink. Aonung had taught him the meaning of the different tattoos and placements, there were so many that Neteyam would summarize as easily as possible. Aonung tried not to smile as Neteyam finally thought of the reef as home, though the Forest was always his home. Aonung respects that.

This whole thing made Aonung’s heart melt, he couldn’t tell Neteyam he was awake the whole time. Neteyam had fallen into a nightly routine of tracing the ink on his body. Aonung would wait until the finger stopped moving all together, a minute later usually he would hear a soft snore and he knew Neteyam had fallen asleep.

Aonung’s eyes opened up to admire his sleeping lover, planting a kiss on his head. He knew one day Neteyam would kill him for pretending he was asleep while he did these cute things. Aonung wouldn’t dare tell him anytime soon.

Fifth, Neteyam loved all gifts.

Aonung had been in a relationship briefly, it was difficult for him because nothing he had ever done was good enough by their standards. Once he had a shell thrown back on the ground because “anyone could get a shell”. Those moments always stuck with him. It was why Aonung worked so hard to get the nicest things, he’d only get the best for Neteyam.

But Neteyam was grateful for everything.

Aonung had returned home once with a singular flower, it only grew in a specific cave so it was unique. Aonung was eager to give it to him because Neteyam was at this point just about fully healed. Except, on his way back to give him the flower, he had been tackled by some kids and it dropped, one accidentally stepping on it and squashing it.

Aonung knew it was an accident, so he didn’t get upset.

“Teyam, I’m home.” Aonung called out as he stepped inside, squished flower in his hand. “Welcome back! Look at the bandages, gone. Stitches, removed.” Neteyam was practically running around now that he wasn’t injured anymore. (Plus Aonung couldn’t be mad if he was all healed and running around).

Aonung swore he had leaped and jumped in his arms. “I take it my mother did a good job with you?” Aonung asked with a laugh as he held him close. He gave him a tight squeeze, just celebrating the others' health.

“What is that? Is that for me?” Neteyam asked, reaching for his hand he pulled the squished flower out of Aonung’s hand. “Well- it was but.. Some kids squished it- I can get you another one.” Aonung didn’t know why he felt nervous that Neteyam was going to be upset or hate the flower.

“No, it's perfect. I love it. Thank you so much for thinking about me.” Neteyam accepted it with a large smile, pulling away towards the bed and taking a seat on the ground to grab a box. Aonung stared wide. He hadn’t expected him to be that eager for a squished flower.

Neteyam had saved every single gift, no matter how small it was. It was all there in this box. “You saved it all?” Aonung asked stupidly, his mouth hung open as he watched Neteyam pull out little gifts from years ago when they first met. There wasn’t much from that time, but a rock and a few notes that they had passed along.

“Yeah, I save everything you give me. Like this, you probably don’t remember but years ago, you gave me this scale. Remember, we didn’t know what it belonged to, only that it glowed in the night.” Neteyam held up the scale, probably the same size as a pearl. “You know.. I think I must have always had a crush on you.” Neteyam looked up at him with the largest smile as he held it out to him.

Aonung was so in love, he dropped down to his knees and immediately hugged Neteyam, practically squishing him with all his weight. “Why are you this perfect?” Aonung never thought he would have gotten this lucky, Neteyam treasured even the dumbest things he had given him. Of course he was appreciative of a squished flower. “You always bring me the nicest gifts.. It really brightens my day to know you’re always thinking of me.” Neteyam admitted, just laying underneath the other with absolutely no protest.

Aonung loved adorning Neteyam with all sorts of gifts, but there was no greater satisfaction than Neteyam saving even the smallest things. Aonung could see that Neteyam was starting a collection of shells and sea glass. Aonung would need to create a space for him to place the collection. Aonung buried his head in Neteyam’s neck.

They spent at least an hour just laying on the ground and cuddling while going over all of the items. “Which one is your favorite?” Aonung asked, admiring the assortment he had gathered for his lover. “Probably the crown you made for me.. I never get to wear it but I love it so much.” Neteyam admitted grabbing the headpiece and placing it over his ears.

Aonung loved the way it looked on him, it was definitely his favorite too. Neteyam was usually beautiful, but he seemed almost like a dream when he wore the delicate headpiece. Neteyam looked up at him with big eyes almost expectantly, his hands gently scratching at his back as Aonung finally got the hint.

Neteyam wanted a kiss.

Aonung caressed his face, just admiring his beauty before he pulled him for a slow and sensual kiss. No matter how many times their lips pressed against each other, the spark never faded, it only intensified. Neteyam clung to him, learning to love the heavy weight of his lover. Aonung using an arm to prop himself up so he could properly kiss.

Aonung pulled away, his heart throbbing at the sight of Neteyam underneath him. Neteyam couldn’t hide his emotions at all, his eyes begging for more, cheeks flustered, his hair framed his face beautifully. Aonung wishes to memorize this moment for the rest of his life.

It led him to the sixth conclusion about Neteyam.

Neteyam was a huge tease.

Now granted, Aonung had said they would wait to mate until Neteyam was all better. For some reason, little things kept getting in the way. He was pulled to observe the reefs in the evenings, it made it hard for him to actually plan. Because everytime, he had set aside time for them, just a two day vacation or a romantic trip to the spirit tree.

Something always got in the way.

The Ilu had run out once, they had to gather them before they were eaten.

An Akula lurking too close to home.

Lo’ak picking a fight with the neighboring clans- which was an awful story on its own.

Nothing seemed to go right when Aonung tried to plan it.

Neteyam had practically moved into his Marui at this point, which was lovely, really. Except, Aonung would come home and Neteyam would pounce on him. Neteyam would kiss him hungrily and wrap his legs around him to pull him on the bed.

Aonung loved it, every second of it, every kiss and playful bite.

But it always left them both unsatisfied because they wanted to wait to do it right. Aonung always pulled away with such great restraint, Neteyam still pulling at him. Aonung knew it was a blessing to have someone as eager as Neteyam.

Neteyam had once pushed him down, climbing on top of him and pinned his wrists down. “Neteyam..” Aonung would call out half-heartedly because he didn’t want him to stop. “Shhh.. No speaking.” Neteyam would smirk down at him, planting a heated kiss on his lips and pulling away to trail hot and steamy kisses down his neck. Aonung let out a shaky sigh as Neteyam bit down and marked his neck. The hickey itself was Neteyam’s claim on his body.

Aonung’s hands grabbed at his thighs and then rested on his butt, Neteyam’s tail wagging excitedly as he marked his lover's neck up. “What will they say tomorrow, when you show up to the hunt covered in marks?” Neteyam would purr into his ears, Aonung could only groan in response. Neteyam had possessive tendencies sometimes, Aonung swore it was because he hadn’t mated him yet.

“Yo bro, could I borrow some beads-“ Lo’ak should have learned his lesson, but he never did. He walked in on them, immediately screaming like a child in horror by the sight. Neteyam usually would have jumped off embarrassed, except he didn’t. He turned around and glared at Lo’ak, grabbing the bag of beads and throwing them at his head. “Get out! You don’t know how to fucking knock- Stop screaming!” Neteyam shouted climbing off of Aonung and shoving Lo’ak out, Neteyam heard him fall out and the beads spill.

Aonung could tell Neteyam was pent up and frustrated, and Lo’ak was probably traumatized. Hopefully, he learned to knock.

“Ma’Teyam..” Aonung reached for him, pulling him close to cuddle. “Soon… I’ll give you everything you want.” Aonung promised, kissing his neck and spooning him from behind. Neteyam pouted, arms folded in annoyance because they had been interrupted so many times.

- - -

“I plan on mating with Neteyam. I have decided to not proceed with our traditional methods of bonding in front of our clan. I would like for us to have our bond between ourselves and Eywa.” Aonung spoke at dinner, Neteyam hadn’t been expecting that in the slightest. If he was honest, he had forgotten traditionally they would mate before their clan members. Neteyam didn’t speak, he just ate, too embarrassed to even look up at his parents.

“You know, for it to be-”

“It will be before Eywa. And that is all we need. With that being said, we will be unavailable for the next week.” Aonung needed to speak now, everyone seemed surprised by the mention of needing a whole week. Even Neteyam tried not to choke on his food, a week was excessive. He could feel eyes pouring into him.

“Very well, we will proceed without you for the following week.” Tonowari spoke, Ronal seemed like she was going to protest their methods. “Neteyam has nothing to do with this, I have realized that I do not need an audience to acknowledge my love. Only Eywa.” Aonung paused with a smile, “Plus I don’t want anyone else to look at my mate.”

Neteyam actually choked.

All eyes were on him as he rushed out, unable to excuse himself as he was coughing and sputtering from embarrassment. Aonung was pleased with himself. Aonung took a final bite of his food and excused himself to rush after Neteyam.

“Aonung! A-A week?” Neteyam sputtered on the way back to their Marui, shaking his head, still baffled by the whole conversation.

“I could ask for two if you’d like,” Aonung offered with a smile as he hugged Neteyam from behind. “You act like you haven’t been trying to jump my bones everyday since you healed. The least I could give you is a week for just the two of us.” Aonung walked slowly as he held onto Neteyam.

“And ignoring tradition?” Neteyam asked leaning against as they stepped together, it must have looked so funny as they were moving as one.

“I don’t want anyone else to hear you or see you. They already think you're perfect, wait until they hear you whimper,” Aonung pressed a kiss into his ear and Neteyam shuddered, shaking his head embarrassed at the thought of that. “Whatever will I do with you..” Neteyam didn’t hate it though.

————

The remainder of the week left Neteyam on edge, he was excited but nervous. Constantly restless, reality had settled in, they were finally going to mate.

Neteyam set aside time from his regular duties to redo his hair, even shine the pearls he had been gifted. Neteyam was worried it wouldn’t be perfect, what if he wasn’t as good as he wanted to be? Maybe he’d disappoint Aonung? The second those intrusive thoughts hit, he tried to shake them away.

Aonung was probably his biggest fan.

When the day came, Neteyam felt self conscious almost instantly. Aonung had gifted him a new garment, it was white and sheer, with sewn in pearls. It covered his chest, leaving his back open, the thin fabric left little to imagine. With the new top came a new loincloth, the material as soft as silk. It hung low on his hips, a pearl white. Aonung even added an anklet for him, now from pretty much head to toe he had been dressed by his lover.

Most people didn’t even get the amount of gifts he received.

Aonung had left him to get ready, Aonung was waiting by Yam, such a ferocious Tsurak with the funniest name. Neteyam let out a shaky sigh stepping out of their Marui, Neteyam was flustered as he walked slowly, worried the beads were suddenly too loud or that he’d trip over and eat sand.

Aonung turned to face Neteyam, his jaw practically dropping as he took in his features. Neteyam was always beautiful, but he was practically glowing. It was unreal, Neteyam was walking slowly to watch his step but everything was already playing in slow motion in Aonung’s head.

Aonung couldn’t believe this was his mate. The garments and accessories framed his body well, emphasizing Neteyam’s best features. His small waist prominent, the curve of his ass, and at the top his broad shoulders wrapped delicately in the thin sheer fabric.

Neteyam could feel Aonung’s eyes staring at him, it made the uneasiness fade away. Aonung really liked what he saw, it made Neteyam feel confident.

“I have imagined this countless times.. But my thoughts were nothing compared to your actual beauty.” Aonung spoke once he realized Neteyam was standing right in front of him. He reached to help Neteyam on his skimwing. “You think so? Well don’t get used to this.” Neteyam teased, his confidence skyrocketing as Aonung pressed a kiss to his hand.

The ride there was difficult, the waves weren’t bad on anything but it all felt so surreal. Neteyam swore he would wake up, or perhaps he had already died and these were just his thoughts.

Aonung’s arms squeezing his waist and pulling him close reminded him that this was real. Neteyam sighed softly, just admiring the beautiful day. The vibrant sky, smooth waves, and everything was just perfect. Neteyam’s hands rested over Aonung’s as they rode.

Aonung was absolutely excited, he was so happy that nothing could even remotely ruin this. As they approached the cove of ancestors, he could feel Neteyam twitch and that baby tail wagging excitedly. Neteyam was just as excited as their destination became closer.

“I hope you remembered how to breathe.” Aonung teased, now it was time to release Yam. Neteyam suddenly forgot how to breathe, letting Aonung help him down. Neteyam immediately clung to him, his arms wrapped around him. “And if I forgot?” Neteyam returned the tease, the two staring into each other's eyes. Aonung swore he could get lost in those golden orbs, so he instinctively pulled him closer. Neteyam smiled, immediately caressing Ao’nung’s face and gently pulling him for a soft kiss.

It was chaste, but it had probably been the most exciting kiss yet.

Aonung led the way down, their hands locked as they swam to the spirit tree. Neteyam was glad they elected to do this on their own. It was much more romantic, Neteyam admired the tree, thanking Eywa for everything. For this life he lived, his beautiful new home, and his amazing mate. Neteyam’s eyes closed as he thanked her. Once he opened them, it looked like Aonung had been doing the same thing. It gave Neteyam the opportunity to admire his lover, his strong arms and his handsome face.

Aonung slowly opened his eyes, smiling at him as they pulled each other closer. Their legs intertwined, locking each other together, they were unable to speak underwater but both of their gazes alone held so much love and respect for one-another. It was all they needed.

The two shared a moment, heads pressed together, just admiring each other. Aonung reached first, his hand reaching for his braid, pulling around his queue. Ao’nung’s eyes locked on Neteyam’s as he mirrored him. Neteyam’s free hand intertwined their fingers together. There was a brief moment where they didn’t move, almost stunned with emotions.

They both simultaneously take the extra inch and they have connected. Nothing could have mentally prepared them for what it felt like to be one. If Neteyam could breathe, it would have taken all of it away. Neteyam’s body shuddered from the emotions, his hand squeezing tight on Aonung’s, nails just digging in from the overwhelming feeling. His body felt hot. Neteyam couldn’t keep his eyes open as he practically curled into Aonung, barely able to steady himself from the intense wave of pleasure and emotions that rushed through him.

Aonung knew he had to be strong here because Neteyam was weaker in the water, he focused a lot of energy on his core to keep them treading. Aonung felt his entire body stutter as the bond was made. Their connection was so intense, Aonung felt like was flying, everything was heightened. He and Neteyam were one, he returned the firm squeeze of Neteyam’s hand before releasing it and pulling him closer, his hand locked on his waist as Neteyam’s legs wrapped around him. Aonung’s eyes closed briefly as the two seemed to just float in a pool of one another. But when his eyes opened again, he couldn’t help but admire his mate's delicate features. Neteyam’s face hid nothing, the pleasure was written all over it and Aonung could tell his lover was running out of air.

Aonung gently caressed his face, pulling him for a sensual kiss. Aonung made sure he was pumping some air into his lover's lungs. Pulling away, he had Neteyam wrap his arms around his neck. Neteyam held where their braids had connected in his hand to keep them locked in place. Aonung allowed the other to cling to him so he could swim them up to air, before he left he thanked the great mother for allowing him to mate with Neteyam.

The second they reached air, Neteyam gasped out, he was almost desperate to breathe. “H-Hah..Aonung..” Neteyam spoke in between shaky breaths, his body was on edge, he had been struggling to breathe and their connection itself made him want to whimper from the intensity of it. Neteyam’s legs wrapped tightly around Aonung, as if he didn’t want to let go. Aonung pulled his whimpering lover for another kiss, this time more heated- it was almost desperate as they clung to the other in the water.

Aonung struggled to maintain his composure as Neteyam practically whimpered in his ear from their connection. Aonung pressed a kiss to his neck as his hands dragged from Neteyam’s thighs to his back, just feeling him. Neteyam was officially his now, they would be together for life. Aonung nipped at Neteyam’s lip, sliding his tongue in eagerly as they’re hands explored each other's body. Everything was so sensual, the smallest brush against his nipple left Neteyam practically shaking. Aonung could relate, his length hardened underneath the weight of his lover.

The couple spent some time, treading in the water and just making out when Neteyam pulled away first, his cheeks flushed and lips practically swollen from the intense kisses, at this point their erections were just pressing into each other. “Aonung.. Let’s go back.. I want you..” Neteyam whispered boldly to him. Neteyam was just about ready to burst, Aonung instantly agreed. He had just been waiting for Neteyam to be ready. Aonung had already planned for them to continue everything at home. He couldn’t put Neteyam’s lungs through sex in the ocean. Their first time needed to be comfortable.

————

-Bond-

———-

Aonung called for Yam, the second he straddled the skimwing he felt instantly tortured. Neteyam was still clinging to him, Neteyam’s length pressed firmly into his stomach while all of his weight and his ass sat right on his loincloth. His own length practically wedged between his mate’s cheeks. The two could feel the heat quickly brewing and intensifying as they rubbed against each other. Neteyam’s nipples pressed against the sheer fabric left them feeling almost raw in the most pleasurable way.

“I love you..” Neteyam was squeezing him tightly, he didn’t want to let go any time soon. Aonung’s hand rested on Neteyam’s waist, gently trailing his hand over a particular sensitive spot, he had learned his favorite spots. “I love you more.” Aonung gently challenged him as he saw their home approaching.

“Aonung..” Neteyam’s voice was needy, Aonung knew exactly where Neteyam was. He understood though, they had waited for so long for one another and now this ride back was so long.

Aonung quieted his lover with his lips, nipping at his lower lip and pushing his tongue inside to taste his mate. Neteyam didn’t even hesitate to open his mouth to Aonung, a muffled moan against his lips. Aonung wanted to hear more, his free hand playing with the bouncing tail. Neteyam pulled away flushed, a quiet moan threatening to escape as his tail was another sensitive spot Aonung remembered.

“My love, we have arrived.” Aonung maneuvered them off the animal. Neteyam pulled him for another kiss, almost causing Aonung to stumble in the sand. Aonung steadied himself, his hands on the back of Neteyam’s thighs to hold him up while they walked. Neteyam was so eager, Aonung struggled to watch where he was going. “I’ve waited too long..” Neteyam whispered against his lips, pulling away to kiss Aonung's neck. Each kiss left a burning trail of pleasure on his. “As have I..” Aonung gently reminded himself, he would drop Neteyam if he didn’t watch his steps.

Aonung had set up their home, adorning it with special flower petals and new blankets for them. Once they were inside, it was like a switch was flipped within Aonung. He had tried to be calm, but now they were here, he didn’t have to hold himself back. Aonung gently placed Neteyam on the bed, Neteyam was panting already.

They had just gotten started.

Neteyam’s golden orbs filled with want as he looked up at Aonung, his legs spread to welcome him in between them. Aonung eagerly accepted the invitation, immediately attacking Neteyam’s neck, he bit and suckled on the skin leaving the prettiest marks to claim his body.

The kisses and marks traveled from Neteyam’s neck, all the way down to his calves. Aonung paid extra special attention to his inner thighs, leaving all sorts of steamy kisses and especially bites there. Neteyam was already his, but Aonung still felt the need to mark him now that he could.

Aonung’s eyes dropped to the new loincloth that seemed to be already soiled with precum, “So soon, my love?” He teased as his hands pulled at the sides of the cloth and wriggled it off, revealing Neteyam’s body. Neteyam wasn’t even embarrassed at this point, legs spread out, his cock resting on his stomach, the head glistening with beads of precum.

Aonung had to take a second to admire all of it, Neteyam caught this and smirked at him. “Do you like what you see?” Neteyam asked, despite it being their first time, Aonung had done wonders for his self confidence. So all that worshiping and praise he had received from his lover left him like this. Neteyam did feel flustered being on display but Aonung had made him confident regardless.

“How could I not?” Aonung pressed a kiss to the dripping head of Neteyam’s cock, causing him to almost instinctively close his legs but Aonung held them open. “Now isn’t the time to be shy, Forest boy.” Aonung gently reminded, Neteyam bit his lip, he hadn’t expecting to feel that sensation,

“Keep your legs open for me.” Aonung reached over his body, pulling out a small vial and pouring some of the contents on his fingers. “Nung..?” Neteyam watched him, wondering what it could have been. “It’s to help it go in easier, I don’t want to hurt you.” Aonung explained, planting a kiss on his forehead before rubbing the other's entrance with the substance. Neteyam shuddered at the foreign feeling, but he had wanted this for so long, he held his legs open for Aonung.

Aonung watched his mate’s reaction carefully to see if there was any discomfort before he slipped his finger in. Neteyam seemed to tense for a moment, unused to the feeling. Aonung tried not to get excited by the thought of how the inside of Neteyam would finally feel. He thrusted the digit slowly to allow him to get used to it, then added a second finger so he could really start to stretch him out. The lube on his fingers was created to trigger Neteyam’s body to lubricate itself. In essence, the more turned on he became the slicker he’d become. Aonung watched Neteyam struggle to decide if he liked the feeling. With that being said, Aonung reached his free hand to jerk his cock slowly at the pace of his fingers.

Soon enough, the weird feeling of fingers inside of him disappeared and it was replaced with intense pleasure as Aonung hit the best spots. “Aonung..” Neteyam started to speak but it was cut off by a soft moan, “Please.. Please stop teasing me.. I just want to cum with you..” Neteyam’s voice was dripping in pleasure.

Aonung watched as his fingers unraveled the male underneath him, he knew it was pretty much time for Neteyam, his insides were nice and wet, a mixture of the oil and now his body was self lubricating. Neteyam’s hands reached for his loincloth and immediately pulled them down. It was Aonung’s turn to be embarrassed for a split second, his cock springing up and hitting him in the stomach, extremely eager to be released. Aonung saw Neteyam blush at the sight and he swore he heard him gulp at the length of it.

“I uh.. I don’t think it’s going to fit..” Neteyam knew Aonung was big, but seeing it uncovered, it was a little nerve wrecking. “We can go slow.. Just relax, I promise I won’t hurt you and if it does hurt, we can stop.” Aonung reminded him gently. Neteyam still looked nervous, despite all the confidence and want in the beginning, it was their first time. It was a little scary.

“My love, just focus on me..” Aonung pressed a kiss to his lips, not as rushed as the first ones, slow and sensual. Neteyam’s arms wrapped around his neck, practically surrounding himself with Aonung. The kiss distracted Neteyam while Aonung lined himself up, Neteyam tensed a bit when he felt the warm head pressing into him. Next thing he knew, Aonung was slowly pushing inside of him. Neteyam’s nails dug into Aonung’s back as he tried to ground himself. At first, it hurt to be stretched. He had never felt this before, but it still slid in without too much resistance probably from all the lubricant. Neteyam took a shaky breath and pulled away from the kiss. “Nung.. Slower please..” Neteyam whispered, his mouth hung open as he tried to breathe and get used to the length.

“I know, my love.. I’m almost all the way in.. You’re doing great.. I’m so fortunate to have you as my mate..” Aonung whispered against his lips, it took a lot out of him to go so painfully slow, easing inch by inch inside his lover, but Neteyam being comfortable was far more important than his own needs right now. The nails at his back left a burning sensation where they dug into him. Aonung pushed all the way in, peppering kisses on his lover's face and lips as he whimpered at the feeling of being so full. Aonung couldn’t even hold back his own groan at finally being one with Neteyam.

Everything felt surreal.

“Neteyam.. Is it okay to move?” Aonung asked, waiting for his lover to find words, Neteyam nodded shakily and clung tighter onto Aonung. Aonung pulled his hips back, nearly pulling all the way out and then pushing back in. Neteyam let out a huff of air, tears starting to form in his eyes. “Neteyam.. We can stop..” Aonung gently reminded him but Neteyam shook his head no. “I don’t wanna stop.. It’s just so much..” Neteyam tried to explain but Aonung didn’t understand. Was it too much dick? Or too many emotions?

“My love.. You’re doing so great..” Aonung whispered in his ear, it was everything Neteyam always needed to hear. Aonung knew Neteyam always responded well to praise, so he whispered all sorts of endearments in his ears. The nails on his back slowly stopped digging painfully, Neteyam pulled Aonung for a kiss just as Aonung had started to settle in for a nice pace. Aonung returned the kiss, his hands exploring Neteyam’s body, resting on his length as he slowly jerked his lover off in sync with his thrusts.

Neteyam at first found it hard to breathe, Aonung was well endowed. But, the compliments and hand on his length helped him. The compliments made him want to keep going, it motivated him. It wasn’t long until Neteyam could breathe easier, a little too easy, as moans just seemed to fall out of his lips left and right. Aonung was moving freely now, Neteyam didn’t even feel pain, it felt amazing.

Aonung noticed that Neteyam had gotten accustomed, “Nete… Can I go faster?” Aonung had been really holding himself back, but Neteyam was enjoying it now. It was well worth the wait. “Please.. Yess.” Neteyam responded instantly, a loud moan escaping as Aonung hit a special bundle of nerves. Aonung made sure to remember that.

It wasn’t long until the couple had found a rhythm that worked for them, first times were always hard in the beginning, they had just started to learn each other's body. Aonung realized that while Neteyam liked a sweet and slow start, it somehow ended with him being rough.

Aonung had no complaints as the Marui filled with fast skin slapping and loud moans, Aonung wincing as the nails dragged all the way down his back. Neteyam whined and mewled, telling Aonung how much he liked it.

“Nung.. I’m going to cum.” Neteyam warned his lover, his legs wrapping tighter around him to keep him locked in. “It’s okay, you can cum we’ve got all week.” Aonung teased, as if he wasn’t just ready to burst. Neteyam tried to hold out so they could cum together, it only took one thrust to have him spill all over his stomach.

Neteyam swore he was seeing stars.

Aonung was going to pull out since Neteyam had cum but the legs around his waist wouldn’t let him move, “Inside..” was the only thing Neteyam breathed out, Neteyam’s eyes were dazed with lust and he looked absolutely ravished by his lover. It took Aonung back to hear him say that, it sent shivers down his spine. “Are you-” Aonung was just checking to see if he was sure but then he felt Neteyam clench around his cock and he couldn’t help but groan in pleasure. Neteyam knew exactly what he was doing.

Neteyam was very sure of what he wanted.

With Neteyam clenching on him and taking some notes from Aonung’s books. “Please cum in me.. It feels so good, Aonung..” Neteyam’s voice was fucked out as he mirrored Aonung’s voice. Aonung wasn’t sure if he also had a praise thing- or if it was because Neteyam sounded soooo good.

Aonung barely lasted a few more thrusts before he came inside of Neteyam, it took all of his strength to not give out on Neteyam. He used his arm to steady himself as he came down from the high of an orgasm. Neteyam shuddered, feeling the warm liquid filling him. The couple laid intertwined with one another, just catching their breath and admiring each other.

Their first time was something else, it was a little nerve wrecking but certainly filled with love. Neteyam didn’t let Aonung pull out for a good hour, before their tired bodies decided it was time for bed. It was difficult for Aonung to clean up while still connected but he managed. Neteyam had instantly passed out after Aonung pulled out. It left Aonung awake spooning his lover with a content smile on his face.

————

— The Bond —

————

The next week really was a blur, Neteyam proved to be quite the animal in bed. Aonung thought he would have been the one who was insatiable but their first morning together, Neteyam had practically sprung up, climbed on him, and rode him. Aonung should have known what to expect, but Neteyam surprised him.

The return back to reality was harsh, they could just lay in bed the whole day just whispering how much they loved each other. It was back to their usual responsibilities, hunting and basket weaving, protecting the reef.

“Welcome back..” Tonowari greeted his son, he looked proud with a knowing smirk. Aonung sporting half healed scratch marks down his back and faint hickeys. Neteyam had enough respect to allow their bodies to heal from embarrassment. “It’s nice to be back, I suppose we should hunt?” Aonung asked with a smirk. He did miss hunting a bit.

“Yeah I suppose we should,” It was Neteyam.

They always say, you can tell when someone has been held. The person’s body becomes more beautiful, they practically glow and even their hair becomes shiny.

It was the truth, villagers and members of the clan immediately noticed how Neteyam grew more beautiful in the week that had passed. Neteyam noticed the eyes on him, a little concerned he had been walking funny or had something on his face.

“Shouldn’t you be-” Aonung started.

“You’re not the only one with a Tsurak.” Neteyam smirked, walking past his lover. His tail swishing as he passed him, he did feel his knees buckle for a split second. He had been trying to pretend like his body wasn’t aching but this last week was more of a work out than anything. His thighs burned with every step he took.

“Why is Neteyam walking kind of funny?” Tuk commented amusedly, kicking her legs at the edge of the water.

Lo’ak had learned his lesson of messing with the couple, he did notice the almost side step Neteyam had taken, “Neteyam has been rock climbing, right Aonung?” Lo’ak commented through gritted teeth. They were mated now, he couldn’t do anything to stop him.

If you can’t beat them, join them.

Aonung was too distracted by the large Tsurak that was by Neteyam, it was larger than Yam, and even seemed more feral. “When did you?!” Aonung was baffled by this secret.

“Don’t worry, meet Ao.” Neteyam introduced the large animal to Aonung who was still processing. “I hope you didn’t think because we mated I was going to stay at home and wait around for you. I am not some male wife.” Neteyam reached for his bow.

Aonung wasn’t surprised by this decision, he was more surprised that Neteyam had tamed a feral skimwing and hadn’t told him. It was then he realized that this marriage was just the beginning of some crazy adventures together.

“I never thought that for a second, let’s go hunt.”

#aonung x neteyam #neteyam x aonung #aonunete #aonung #avatar #fanfic #it's over #lmk what yall think #what do i do now #avatar way of water #I love these boys sm #forever otp

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bookoftheironfist · 1 month

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youtube

Please take a moment out of your day to check out this incredible 80s-style Iron Fist fan film created by @sky-liam! Sky very generously shared with me the inspiration behind the film, as well as insight into the filming process, fight choreography, and thematic sensibilities:

"As a former martial arts champion, I wanted to show authentic Kung Fu techniques (we were lucky to get an action coordinator who's worked on Chinese martial arts movies). I have a background in Shaolin Kung Fu and competitive Wushu, training and competing for many years, and living in China for a year-and-a-half as well (majoring in Chinese language in college). Going back to some of the original issues of Iron Fist, what really grabbed me was how Danny has trained so long with one goal in mind, and then feels completely lost when he isn't able to complete his revenge on Harold Meachum. I felt like this story was something that anyone could connect to, because so many of us have had that moment where we finished school, or got a 'good' job, and then realized that attaining that single-minded goal didn't actually satisfy us, and we were still searching for something. I also connected with moments from Iron Fist: The Living Weapon when Danny was practicing Kung Fu almost like a drug to keep himself sane. And I connected it to the idea of all those things we do without even thinking because they've become a part of how we define ourselves."

(Behind-the-scenes photos, courtesy of @sky-liam)

"What was most important to me was this sense of [Danny] not being compatible to the world around him; being the Living Weapon but having no target to aim at after Meachum died. Martial arts and fighting becomes a drug to stay above water instead of a means to preserve life. I started Shaolin Kung Fu as a kid and eventually studied Mandarin in college and lived and trained in China for a year-and-a-half, competing in tournaments and working in Kung Fu films there. I wanted to make sure Danny used techniques from actual Shaolin forms (similar to the kind of stuff he'd learn from the monks in K'un-Lun) and also spoke some of the language he picked up while living there. "I knew our fight director, Alfred Hsing, from the Wushu competition scene, and he had also trained in Beijing and worked with Jet Li for several years. He used a lot of 'in-camera editing' in his choreography - that is, setting up short sequences of the fight that were designed to be shot from a specific angle, thus highlighting the best stuff while eliminating wasted camera setups. Of course he also played a version of Steel Serpent in the final fight with Colleen and Danny. "Kara Wang, who played Colleen Wing (and not long after went on to shoot 'Top Gun: Maverick') trained for about three months to complete her fight scene. Our other actors were former athletes with martial arts experience and we also rehearsed choreography for several weeks before shooting. We were able to get many locations for free (the parking garage, the apartment, and the plaza in Monterey Park that doubled for Chinatown) through business and personal connections. "The original short film was about 15 minutes long, and had a lot of voiceover that gave an insight into Danny's inner monologue. We made a few changes to the costumes and events (such as Danny wearing clothes he bought off the rack after coming back to the States, Meachum dying from a drug overdose), which was similar to what was done for the 80s and 90s Marvel adaptations where certain details would be changed for budgetary reasons. In the end, there were some issues with some of the footage in the narrative scenes of the film, so I decided to recut it like a VHS trailer from the 1980s or early 90s would be. "My goal in the end was to highlight some of the grittier story elements of Danny Rand, and to show Iron Fist doing some legit Kung Fu. I hope fans of the character can enjoy it!"

A huge thank you to Sky for sharing this amazing project!

#sky-liam #Iron Fist #Danny Rand #Colleen Wing #Steel Serpent #Videos #Commentary

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quirkle2 · 3 months

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zombie au question: does Mob ever handle tools/weapons as a zombie? 👀 I guess this is actually two questions:

How is Mob's tool use, in general? I know he tends to take the simplest route from point A to point B, usually just using his body, but are there situations that tend to inspire tool use for him?

Does he ever give Ritsu a huge scare by getting too close to the guns? (or knives/anything they have that could be dangerous?)

HIII ROBIN these r such good questions hrrmmm

for the first one, i don't think tool use is commonly in his repertoire. he Does tend to just go for the brute force options, even if he Can think of a more complex way to do something. he's certainly capable of doing quite complex things—he's still got a human mind, which is an incredible thing—but neither ritsu nor tome tend to see any of this, bc mob acts on instinct more often than not and instinct tends to side with brute force

i think a lot of what mob does is muscle memory. he can use spoons to eat stuff like soups—it's kinda weird seeing a zombie eat with a spoon tbh—but forks are slightly more difficult for him. doable but there's required finesse there sometimes that he's kinda lacking. most of the time he just eats w his hands tho. and sometimes when ritsu gives him a bowl of soup (with a spoon!) he'll just tip the bowl and drink it ?? he's inconsistent and ritsu has no idea why

idk how far the term "tool" goes for this question, but mob does see ritsu doing stuff w them and he tries to help sometimes. whenever they come across a clean water source and ritsu is filling his water bottle mob grabs his own and fills his up too. ritsu chalks it up to him copying behaviors, but mob does actually understand that this thing in his hand gives him a place to hold water and water is good

the unfortunate part abt That ^ is that mob tries to help and sometimes makes it worse. example: dirtying his own water bottle's supply by filling it up w nasty muddy water from a ditch. cue ritsu's shige where did you—ohmy god—

i think the most complex thing he does is, when he rly wants an item that's stuck somewhere he can't reach, he'll grab a stick or something long and poke it out of its spot. ritsu watches this go down once when it happens in a store, Fascinated. he doesn't even know why mob wanted it . itwas just an empty jar.

all in all i think mob isn't too keen on using tools—even if he thinks up a more complex idea on how to do something, he'll likely go with the option that requires less finesse w his hands. he's a go-through-brick-wall-instead-of-around kinda guy when he's a zombie

very little tool use for every day happenings, but for weapons? he uses basically anything!

he typically uses his own hands and teeth to fight, but if that's somehow not working, or he can't get close enough to snap at the enemy, he'll look around and grab the heaviest, biggest object he can find and lob it at them. he still recognizes that Big Heavy Thing knocks you over. once tome comes around and starts swinging her big baseball bat mob actually kinda copies her from time to time—sometimes he grabs something long and swings it as hard as he can. "as hard as he can" is a LOT of pressure, and it usually shatters or bends whatever the hell he grabbed and completely obliterates whatever the hell he was hitting. which means ritsu and tome both have seen uhm ,, some unfortunate things

for the second question, Yes! mob has gotten ahold of his pocket knife before and Almost put it in his mouth before ritsu snatched it away . truly the fastest ritsu's ever moved in his Life. it's also one of the only times ritsu has resorted to scolding him, as if he'd understand what he was saying. mob did not take in a single word. something abt that moment activated some extra hidden brotherly instincts in ritsu VAJSGDG

luckily, mob doesn't seem too interested in ritsu's guns, but if he were, he'd probably have a hard time obtaining them anyway. ritsu is basically always holding his pistol, and when he's not, it's in his jean pocket or his backpack. ritsu is already very hyper aware of where his guns are at all times, and he's already thought up a lot of scenarios where mob gets a hold of one and accidentally shoots himself or ritsu. those thoughts make him hold onto his guns very tightly and never let go

mob also tends not to,,, particularly Care when people are pointing guns at him. he doesn't understand the threat that poses, so when mob is rly pissed and lunges straight for a patrol guard, Right in front of the barrel, ritsu feels his heart stop in those moments. when they escape from those scenarios it's one of those times where, once they're safe, ritsu will grab mob's face and force him to look at him, will look into his eyes and search for that life that's still in there, that beating pulse of Shigeo, and he'll hold him in a hug for a while until he stops shaking. almost lost you...

even though mob foregoes tools most of the time, i do think that if ritsu actually tried to teach him how to go for the more complex options, he'd be able to do them !

like i talked about in this post, mob is in a very interesting position to learn as a zombie. i mentioned back then that, "zombies will keep doing one thing over and over again, even if it’s actively killing them, until they die from it," and while that Is true, it's only bc they don't perceive pain as a punishment or a sign to stop doing something. zombies simply don't get an Opportunity to learn

since mob has lived such a long zombie life, and he's being protected from those things that would kill him, he's certainly capable of learning. he Has learned, even if most of the time it seems like mimicry

teaching a zombie how to do a task is,,, easier said than done. it takes a Lot of patience, bc the zombie Will be stubborn abt it, but if ritsu sat mob down every once in a while and tried to teach him how to use a tool, he'd probably get it eventually, and even start applying that knowledge/concept to other stuff

ritsu ,, doesn't do that, bc he figures it's kinda pointless. he doesn't think mob has the motor skills to do complicated things with his hands anymore, and he's a bit too busy looking for food to worry about it. as terrible as it sounds, he thinks teaching mob more Involved concepts will lead to more trouble—it's like teaching your cat how to open doors. if mob suddenly knows how to get to more places or obtain more dangerous pointy items to put in his mouth, ritsu's life will be 3 times more stressful, and frankly, he does not need that kinda negativity. bro is already on the brink

#qktalks #brown-little-robin #zombie au #tw guns #sorry i rambled a bit in the middle there. my answers r so long ....#i justlove talking abt them .so sorry #anyway ty for the zau ask !!! this was a pleasant surprise :]#witsu ... shige .... i miss them

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fuzzyautumninmetal · 1 year

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You know when you have the same dream about a certain masked man and you have to write it.....yeah that's what's happened here. Might make this a thing I'm not sure yet because I don't write.

Anyway I hope you enjoy

~~~~~

*Your POV*

You was on the balcony of an abandoned building, out of site from the cartel. The small town filled with life just a few hours ago was now dead, you came to Mexico on holiday not knowing you was stepping into a war between the cartel and god knows who else. Crunching glass brought you from your thoughts and you held your gun up towards the masked man walking through the empty street, you recognised him as Ghost from Task Force 141 "Careful Ghost" you whispered to yourself as he walked through the destroyed city, he kept looking around. Glass under his boots cracked loudly as he walked. He made sure to keep an eye out for any enemies or any sudden movements. He walked slowly, not wanting to make too much noise, although, the glass and debris he did end up stepping on crunched loudly. His grip tightened on the rifle as he walked, he had this horrid gut feeling, as if something was wrong. His finger tightened on the trigger.

As Ghost walked, you saw shadows moving from the corner of your eyes and you knew it was the cartel, you held your gun up and shot the enemy hiding in the shadow, you jumped down and threw a home made smoke bomb. "Come on solider" You grabbed Ghosts arm and dragged him to the abandoned house you've took shelter in. He was taken back by the suddenness of it all but his instincts kicked in and began following you with his weapon at the ready.

Once safe you went to see if he was okay but he held his gun up to your head "Who are you?" He barked, you held your hands up "Y/N L/N MI6". Ghost seemed to have peaked up at the mention at your name "Y/N, as in Agent /N?", you chuckled "I'm surprised you know who I am". "I have friends in the MI6" he chuckled back before asking "I didn't think you did stuff like this". "That's because I don't, I'm off duty well actually I'm on holiday" you folded your arms "What happened?".

He sighed "We were here relating to a terrorist attack, found some intel about the leader going after a NATO summit" Ghost explained, you noticed that his voice was shaking. "We?" you asked and he nodded "Soap, Gaz and Price. We were ambushed and was taken quickly and quietly, I barley made it out" he stood up and was getting ready to leave "I need to get them". You put your hand on his chest to stop him "Not on your own your not" you looked at your bag "I may have an idea" he stood back allowing you to explain "I manage to gather some C4 charges while looking for food and water. We can use them to create a distraction, that way I can sneak in and rescue your team", "You?" he asked. You nodded your head before throwing a sniper "You're the best sniper in the Task Force aren't you?" he nodded and you smirked "I need you to be my eyes solider"

You followed Ghost to where the Cartel is based but it was a few hours walk so he decided to make small talk "You seem to know your way around a gun considering you work in intelligence", "I had strict training when I was younger, my father was army and wanted to make sure I knew how to look after myself". "I'm guessing army wasn't your thing?" he side eyed you and you bit your life "I guess you could say that" you really didn't want to get into it and he respected that "Where here" he crouched. You pointed to the crumbling tower "That's going to be our way in, doesn't look like any cameras" he handed you a spare earpiece before you quickly ran towards the tower and climbed up.

Ghost climbed up first and you followed "Shit" he whispered and you went to ask him what's wrong until you saw it with your own eyes. His team on their knees, bounded and being interrogated. You knew you needed to thing of a plan and quickly. "This is risky" he whispered as you scanned the courtyard and saw a gate with trucks outside of it "Give me 5 minutes" you whispered and climbed down the way you came. "Y/N what are you doing?" Ghost voice came through the earpiece in a harsh whisper, "Setting up the C4 charges" you answered. You fixed 2 C4 charges on the gate and some on separate trucks before going back to Ghost.

"How much do you want to trust me right now?" You asked but he said nothing not sure on what you meant, you pointed towards the gate "Wait near the gate and when the time is right go in, get your team and run". "How will I know?" he asked and you smiled "You'll know" then jumped down into the courtyard. You waited in the shadows for a moment "In position" Ghost whispered. You walked into the light and shouted "Oi. Pricks" everyone turned to you as you set the C4 charges off giving Ghost a way in to get his team.

You locked eyes with Ghost before you ran into the building letting the cartel chase you completely forgetting about the Task Force.

*Ghost's POV*

"Everyone in the truck now" I shouted but waited for Y/N, we locked eyes for a moment before she ran into the building "No" I screamed as Soap dragged me into the truck. "Who the fuck was that" Gaz asked "Someone we need to go back for" I said loading my gun but Price stopped me. "We'll go back for her Ghost but we need a plan and back up" I punched the truck door knowing he was right. "Ghost who was that?" Soap asked "Agent L/N from MI6" everyone was confused "She was on holiday when everything kicked off" I explained.

*Your POV*

"I'll ask again. Who do you work for?" the man in front of you smacked you but you just looked up at him and smiled, which infuriated him "What are you so happy about". "I'll never talk" you spat blood at him, he smacked you again before holding your chin to make you look at him "Oh you will" he nodded at another man and he shot you in the leg but you didn't scream like he wanted you too "I would rather die then talk" you spat. He raised his hand up at you once more but an explosion from outside stopped him "Sorry gents but I gotta take that" you smirked, he grabbed your arm and dragged you up "She must be important if they've come back for her" he shouted before dragging you outside, using you as a human shield.

The man held you in front of him with his arm resting on your shoulder to shoot anyone that got in his way, it was all guns blazing when you got out to the courtyard "I'd let me go if I was you" you looked up to the tower and saw Ghost but the man just shoved you forward. "Fine" you smiled before bringing your head back at full force and headbutted him "Shit" he screamed as he let you go so you ran but you didn't get far before he shot at you, luckily the bullet only grazed your hip but it made you fall. "Come one" Someone picked you up and ran to the truck "Captain she's loosing a lot of blood" you looked around before you focused of Ghost applying pressure to one of your wounds "Are you crazy?" he asked you laughed trying not to wince at the pain "Yes". "Stay awake Y/N" Ghost said but everything started becoming disoriented, someone else started tapping your face lightly "Stay with us solider" but you couldn't, you had lost too much blood at this point to stay awake.

#cod ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #modern warfare 2 #call of duty #cod mw2

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greatwyrmgold · 7 months

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More updates on the factory!

First, a weird problem I was having: Attacks from the rear. Allow me to diagram how I expected things to go with my iron outpost.

("Rockup" is the stone brick pick-up station for that stone outpost I mentioned needing to build.)

Here's how it actually went.

Experienced Factorio players can probably guess where this is going, but I didn't see it coming.

It turns out, Problems will just path to whatever machines caused the pollution they're reacting to, instead of attacking whatever miners or pumpjacks they come across. If I'd figured that out before covering the backside of the iron outpost with turrets, I could have just fortified that path Problems would need to take, which would have been a more elegant solution. But I had other problems.

First, power outages. Second, plastic shortages. Third, copper smelting. Fourth, grenades (for military science). What do all of these have in common? Coal.

Part of the problem is, unsurprisingly, power. The power outages came shortly after I expanded power production, ironically enough. And since I did so in a slightly spaghetti-ish manner...might as well share.

Anyways, the coal outpost is simple. Miners, laser turrets, a few gun turrets I slapped down in case biters came before I plugged in the laser turrets, train station. The interesting bit there is that I ran out of rails before I could finish the train.

I had some semi-automated rail production at the old stone mine; I had to feed it steel and iron manually, but it handled the rest while I wandered around doing other stuff. That was fine for a while, but I'll need to automate rails soon for purple science anyway, so I might as well set up a proper solution. Especially since stone and iron products are so far from each other.

I was going to set up a train car to deliver iron and steel to the stone outpost, when I noticed something.

There's iron on-site. And an advantage of using this iron ore instead of shipping in metal is that I can put aside some iron ore and stone to make concrete! Of course, for the actual rails I'll need to smelt a lot of that iron ore into iron (and most of that iron into steel), and concrete needs water, and this is quickly turning into a big project that will bring me even closer to biter territory...

...but before I think of setting up a decent defensive perimeter of some kind, I need to remind myself why I'm doing this. I need to make rails, so that I can connect the coal to the main base, which has barely enough coal to maintain its power supply but not enough for production.

I don't need to set up a big defensive line to protect a multi-product outpost to support large-scale rail production. Right now, what I need is enough rails to fix the coal supply, and feeding a temporary assembler array with all the steel in my inventory and half the iron makes more than enough.

Though feeding it all my steel and not returning to the main base to resupply has consequences. Like not being able to put chests in the coal loading station.

The inserters are doing fine for now, I guess. I can fill in the chests once I've finished the dropoff station.

To the left is the preexisting coal dropoff system, to the right is iron. In the middle is the old copper patch, still supplying the base with more copper than it needs. Certainly more than it could smelt!

With these basic resources, plus oil and bricks (not displayed), the base has everything it needs to produce the first four tiers of science pack. And while I'm sure I could bolt the last three into the spaghetti somewhere, this spaghetti was supposed to be a starter base.

And blue science unlocks most of the basic production stuff. There's still Kovarex enrichment and better modules and weapons and power armor and numerical bonuses and space, but for the core factory-designing stuff? I've got it all.

So I guess I need to start designing a real base.

#factorio #my bases

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sdaomine · 1 year

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'til death do us part... or 'til i kill you first

Things take a sharp turn when Marius and Vyn discover each other's secret identities. Filing a divorce is on the table, but Vyn takes matters into his own hands—after all, he'd rather end the marriage here than in court.

A/N: Finally, FINALLY done with this fic that has long been rotting in my drafts! I've been wanting to write a Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU for my favorite gay ship but lacked the time to actually finish it (but here we are!). I wrote this in 2022 but only concluded it today, AMIDST my many, many university backlogs <3 Anyway, I know some stuff here won't make sense but this is a self-indulgent fic so... yeah.

wc: 13.8k words.

Six years in.

Six years of a wonderful marriage. Six years of black tea and chocolate drink during early mornings. Six years of intoxicating kisses, sweet and zealous; six years of what the youngest von Hagen called the best fuck he’d ever get in his lifetime.

You see, when you marry the love of your life and spend wild, beautiful years with them, you start to think you are building your relationship’s mighty foundation—that sooner or later, the two of you would be able to finally lower those invisible walls which had always separated you, because admit it or not, there is no marriage built without deep, dark secrets.

But six years in and Marius von Hagen finds himself holding tightly onto his gun—a pretty sleek silencer he so cherished, a gift from his brother—his back pressed hard against the wall just beside the stairs, waiting.

“Hah—shit. Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his chest heavy, almost suffocating. Marius pressed one hand against his heart, feeling its erratic pace and, at this very moment, he was all but trying to calm his rapid breathing.

But then there was a quiet creak on the wooden stairs.

Marius’ eyes screwed shut. Fuck fuck fuck—

Marius threw himself to the side, hiding further beneath the wall, just in time—just in time before a series of raining bullets holed through the wooden wall and the staircase banister, which was soon followed by another round of rapid firing. Marius shook his head as he waited for it to stop.

With one arm protecting his head, Marius leaned slightly against the safer side of the house. Deep down he cursed and cursed the sheer agony of having to prop himself like that against the wall, right after he had dived into the floor like it was some massive pool of water. “Goddamn,” he cursed quietly, and however could he not? His once neatly painted Victorian walls that probably cost some other person’s soul were now ripped into shreds, the wood falling off, their deadly splinters scattered around. There were holes all over, both small and wide, and Marius took a little peek.

There he is.

Vyn Richter, Stellis’ most esteemed psychiatrist: well-mannered, elegant, so fucking pretty. Marius was in awe even when the doctor, who still wore his pearl, white coat, carried two massive rifles in both of his hands. Fucking assault rifles. Just where the fuck did you keep those in our fucking house, Vyn?

A sly smirk curved the doctor’s lips. Vyn caught a glimpse of his husband peeking through the small holes and asked, a little too seductively for Marius’ taste, “Darling, you are still alive?”

Dammit!

Vyn held back a scowl when he heard nothing. Marius used to surprise Vyn whenever he came home from work, so it was not impossible the young CEO had already switched hiding places. And so Vyn, as silently as he could, made his way down the stairs—

“Still am, baby.”

Vyn dived down the stairs instinctively, hissing out small, foreign curses as he landed—crashed—on the floor. He helped himself up with animalistic speed and grabbed his weapons, dashing towards the room opposite the wall where Marius continued to fire his silencer gun.

The doctor clutched his side and winced. Two minutes in and he already got himself a bruise.

“Stupid brat,” he muttered sharply as he reloaded his rifle. “Whatever crossed my mind? I should have killed him that fucking night.”

Two nights ago.

Vyn—in his white Mercedes—took a sharp turn round the bend of his English garden, leading out of the mansion gates. He was running, no, driving away from Marius. Why? Nothing much, really. Just that after six years of marriage Marius found out that aside from being a psychiatrist, his dear husband actually worked as an assassin. Learned that Vyn was a killer from another agency, which unfortunately for Marius was PAX’s worst rival with… well, dirty work.

But that wasn’t the worst part. Marius was an experienced killer, too, a secret even the best psychiatrist in the country must have somehow missed.

So… shit.

It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date. Vyn came home earlier than usual (he had to call off his assassination schedule that night) so he could cook his husband’s favorite dinner. The ever-so-loving Vyn Richter even lit candles on the table, did some last-minute flower arrangements, all so they’d have a good time (He even had half a mind to light candles and scatter rose petals across their bedroom, for a change). It had been a while since the last time he’d eaten a proper meal with Marius, anyway.

But there was something amiss, and Vyn was upset. Upset with the fact that he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Or what could possibly go wrong.

Although he was quite certain it involved his husband. And involved he was indeed because Marius was all but suspicious that whole evening, asking this and that, inquiries Vyn himself often utilized whenever he questioned a target or a client. And he wouldn’t have been a renowned psychiatrist if his husband’s dubious actions went unnoticed. Marius. I did not know he would be this daft.

Until the bottle of wine Marius was holding suddenly slipped from his grasp, and Vyn—who was seated, his back turned away, his attention wholly fixated on anything other than Marius and his wine—caught the bottle swiftly with one hand.

It was then he realized he’d made a grave mistake, because if anything his husband’s grip was always firm, and not in this life would Marius von Hagen let a million-stellin wine slip from his hands.

Marius let it slip on purpose.

And now Vyn drove his Mercedes the way a lunatic would their car, ramming on the trash bins and fences and even some of the patches of roses from his beloved garden, all to escape from his husband. Because apparently, his dirty secret’s out, and Marius is out to get him (perhaps).

The car screeched as he took a sharp turn, finally out from their mansion. Was he a free man, now? Not exactly—Marius von Hagen suddenly appeared in the middle of the road, running. Vyn muttered under his breath. Goddammit. He took the shortcut. I forgot about the shortcut—

A bang sounded, and the next thing Vyn knew, there was a crack on the windshield. The car halted abruptly.

Vyn scrutinized the crack. A bullet.

“Did…” he mused—hissed, rather—as his eyes trailed to where Marius was knelt on the ground, slowly helping himself up. “Did this bastard just try to shoot me?”

Marius almost flinched when Vyn, just a meter or two from him, slammed his hands on the car horn repeatedly. If it wasn’t his pretty little husband Marius would’ve just shot the car until the tires go off and the driver dead; but then again it was Vyn inside that car, and—

And the windshield… has a crack. And I have a gun. And I…

Marius swallowed. And he must’ve accidentally pulled the trigger when he hopped out of the bushes from the sidewalk and tripped. And now Vyn thinks he tried to shoot him.

“Baby, accident.” Marius now stood in front of the car, and the sight of his husband—who looked angry as hell—could be seen clearly from his line of vision. He hoisted both arms, the way a cornered, guilty criminal would, and repeated his words gently, “Baby, accident. Accident.”

Marius gestured to his gun. “I tripped. Accident,” he shouted. Marius didn’t really give a damn anymore whether or not the neighbors would hear him. “Baby, accident—no, stop!”

Marius inhaled sharply as he heard the engine rev—and it revved loud, as if a warning, more than enough to tell Marius if he didn’t step out of the way at that very moment Vyn would drag him to death by way of a hit and run.

And he did not hesitate.

“No, stop! Wait!” Marius waved his arms frantically, almost throwing away his gun just so he could show Vyn he wouldn’t dare hurt him. However it was his mistake that he pondered it at all, because Vyn Richter was the pettiest man alive, petty enough to actually hit the gas and hurl the vehicle towards Marius.

Oh, shit. Is this my end?

The car steered forward, its speed almost inescapable (for anyone in Marius’ situation). Marius gathered all his weight and lunged at the car, and Vyn then piloted the steering wheel in a rapid pace, left and right, in an attempt to haul his husband—probably ex-husband soon—out of the car, but to no avail. “Get off my fucking car!” he yelled irritably. “Marius von Hagen!”

Marius even managed to smirk as he held onto the side of the car (for dear life). “Stop the car—” he shouted back, his face almost hitting the windshield. “Vilhelm von Hagen!”

“Fuck you.”

“When?”

“Saturday, if I have not killed you yet by then.”

“Sweet.” Marius took advantage of Vyn getting carried away by their banter—Vyn could only hiss out in frustration as Marius broke the passenger seat window with the handle of his gun. It didn’t take long before he was halfway inside the vehicle, and Vyn was fumbling with his seatbelt.

But Marius was a second too late. The moment he’d gotten inside entirely, Vyn had already thrown himself out of the vehicle, and the Mercedes, along with Marius, was heading straight to the dark woods.

“Fuck you,” Vyn spat, still lying on the asphalt, catching his breath. He had wounds and scratches all over his skin—so much for all his skin routines—but that did not matter at the time. He fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

“Good evening,” he greeted rather blandly. “Yes. Please fetch me, and bring something sweet. I need my sugar levels to spiral.”

Present times.

And so they are here, trying to shoot one another’s head. Marius had initially come to gather his hidden weapons, only to find them gone. Vyn must’ve found out. The psychiatrist, on the other hand, returned home and got his guns ready. Heck, Marius even considered the great possibility of his husband setting up traps within the house.

Now we can tell who loves who more.

Yeah. That would be me, Marius would say. I love this sick fuck more than he loves me.

He peeked at the stairs. Marius caught Vyn claiming the opposite wall as his barricade, swore to god heard his muse wince at what could’ve been new bruises. He chewed on his lower lip as he crouched and stalked along the hallway with confident precision—he moved the way shadows would devour the night, utterly soundless as he coursed towards their dining area, which was also a connecting room to their massive kitchen.

To Vyn’s kitchen, his mind noted, almost like an instinct. His beloved had always been the one to cook all their meals, bake mouthwatering desserts and mix their cocktails and most times they’d end up hot that Vyn would find himself bent over the counter with Marius railing him from behind. Sometimes atop that long table, where Marius would feast on his husband the way he would his favorite meal; in return, Vyn knelt on the carpet under the table and sucked Marius’ hard cock until he moaned and screamed his name and squirted his cum on Vyn’s crystalline smooth face.

Marius was never in the kitchen, that sacred place. Sacred to his husband, at least, but when he did go there, it was always to admire Vyn while he prepped their meals.

He let out a bitter chuckle as he entered the dimmed space. Good old days.

Marius scanned the room, one he was most familiar with, before he proceeded to check under the table and chairs, ran his hands along the wall, removed the exquisitely-framed portraits hanging on them as a precaution. He knew Vyn couldn’t have been here for long; he wouldn’t have ample enough time to set up his baits within the house, but just in case.

He’d learned well not to underestimate Vyn. Vyn Richter, of all people.

Keeping his steady stance, Marius trod towards the high archway that led to the kitchen hall. He moved with a spy’s practiced grace and quiet, walking about the area as he quickly drafted a plan in his head. It was safer here, he thought, for almost little to no lights were switched on, and none of them would dare, since the lights could only be opened with two claps or a snap. Even without Marius’ careful movements, Vyn won’t be able to locate him that quickly. Especially since their house was a goddamn mansion.

No, screw that. A goddamn castle. If Vyn had not declined his husband’s initial offer with regard to housing, their residence would have looked like Buckingham Palace, except it was in Stellis.

Well great. How nice would it be to reminisce while your husband’s lurking in the same house, trying to kill you? Marius blew a sigh through his nose, frustrated. Couldn’t this be resolved with yet another delftware imported from France—

Marius went cold. “Fuck.”

He went cold because somehow, he’d forgotten that he didn’t really own this kitchen. That even though he’d been here a lot of times to fuck his husband on that table and over that counter, he wasn’t there enough to fully know and memorize each tile, each wall, each delftware that perched on display. Because somehow, Marius had focused on the possible threats that he’d missed the most unsuspecting yet lethal ones: Vyn’s decorative collection of teacups and teapots and plates.

And perhaps the odds were not in his favor tonight, because Marius accidentally bumped into one, and the teapot—even though he had caught it with his hand at first—proceeded to take its fall and break itself into hundreds of tiny shards. Marius stilled, his blood thrumming in alarm.

At first, there was silence. The eerie kind.

And then rained a series of bullets from the dining room entrance.

“Fuck fuck fuck—”

Marius dived into floor, clutching his silencer. He crawled swiftly under the long table until he reached the archway to the kitchen. He stood on his feet and snatched his other pistol from its belt holster, scanning the kitchen—a fucking enormous kitchen—for efficient shields, weapons, or if the heavens somehow favored him again, a possible way out. An escape from his deranged husband.

He’s too beautiful for someone demented, though.

He heard footsteps. Slow and steady, its familiar, elegant cadence enough a warning for Marius to keep his guard, his guns hoisted and at the ready. In one stride, he took refuge beside the fridge, the opposite side of it facing the entrance.

And then there was a distant, honeyed voice. “You dare break my delftware.”

“You fired because of a fucking teapot?” Marius sneered, but cackled all the same. “You’re crazy.”

“Your fault for marrying me.”

“A horrible decision, really.”

Vyn pulled the trigger and fired, the bullet merely grazing past the fridge. A warning. “I gathered. Seeing how you are out almost every other night, only to a foolish spouse will that go unnoticed,” Vyn uttered, his voice laced with venom—bitterness. “Tell me, darling. How many ladies have you fucked while you were gone?”

Marius resisted the urge to step out of his hiding spot and confront his husband head-on. “Fucking stop it, Vyn. Are you serious? This again?” he complained, the grip around his silencer tightening in his simmering anger. “I never cheated on you, godammit. I told you—I was out for business. How many times do I have to drill that into your head?”

“Ah, yes. Business. And what exactly is your business, Marius?”

Marius chuckled. “I could ask you the same, baby,” he said in his smoothest, sweetest voice, then strode out from his refuge, aiming his silencer at Vyn. In those few, shared seconds of conversation he’d noted where his husband stood, where he was facing, the appliances which surrounded them—Vyn won’t be able to duck anywhere, and could not possibly sprint too fast to shield himself from Marius’ attack.

But then again—he shouldn’t have underestimated.

Because when he’d stepped out, Vyn was not there.

He was already behind him.

“Shit—”

He did the most possible, most horrible thing he could think of: as he swiveled round to Vyn’s direction, Marius hooked his fingers under the fridge’s recessed handle, pulled it open, then slammed its massive steal door against Vyn.

“Scheisse.” The fridge door rammed against him face-first—Vyn’s nose throbbed with a nasty pain, and he sensed hot liquid leaking from it, tasted the coppery tang of blood when it drifted further into his mouth. “Fucking. Swine.”

He knew the fridge door would be a serviceable shield, knew the bullets he’d fire would protect Marius no matter what and doing so would only be a disadvantage. However Vyn blasted back that instinct, that knowledge, and proceeded to rain yet another series of bullets towards Marius (or the fridge, actually), all because of sheer aggravation. How dare he slam that door into his face—was he not his muse, his darling? Was he not this ethereal man Marius had always drawn and sketched and painted on his canvases for he wished to preserve his beauty?

Goddammit—the curse looped inside Vyn’s head, his nose flaring with rage. His nose fucking hurt.

And Vyn screamed along his firing, both weapons aimed toward the fridge. The kitchen was dimmed, with no lights on and so all he could see were the blazing yellows and oranges and reds, could only hear the all-too-familiar bangs and booms as the shots blasted through the metal.

He stopped attacking. Vyn wept the blood from his face with the sleeve of his once immaculate, white coat, wincing as he did. His nose stung so much and it rendered him so very, very furious. “Marius von Hagen,” he said. Hissed.

A low chuckle. “Vilhelm von Hagen. Or would your surname be back to Richter now?”

And there was silence, utter silence, before Vyn’s life flashed before his eyes.

The psychiatrist could only slide back as the fridge—which was a whole lot bigger than him in all aspects possible, completely towering over him—started slanting from above and down to crush him. It was too swift that he could only clumsily stumble back, almost slipping on the tiles and making a fool out of himself.

Marius heard Vyn curse in a vague, foreign language—German, no, Svartian, probably—as he scurried to save himself and dodge his husband’s pretty little trick. Actually, screw that, Marius thought. Pushing this goddamn fridge might very well be his disadvantage: one, it was too heavy it took a lot of effort and energy, and two—the kitchen was a spacious room and he threw his only barricade away.

No matter. He will just have to remedy that, in whatever way he can.

Like taking advantage of his disoriented, recuperating rose by means of taking their electric stove and throwing it in Vyn’s direction.

He’d turned away before that stove hit his husband.

No. He didn’t want to see that.

Didn’t want to see his husband hurt.

He released a sharp breath and looked skyward, then blinked his eyes repeatedly, well-aware of the stinging tears threatening to flow. He ran to the exit all the same, his only goal to escape—he didn’t wish a violent shoot-out with his love, inside their home, no less, but he needed to return the act lest he got killed.

All this—the thought of killing Vyn would kill Marius just the same, anyway.

Heh. He didn’t seem to hesitate shooting me, was what roved in his mind as he made his quick escape. God. That hurt. That fucking hurts.

And he was now well on his way out, finally, with only a step before the archway when Marius peered over his shoulder—then regretted it shortly after.

A kitchen knife had grazed past his ear, the tip of its blade hitting the wall with a dull, slicing thud.

Marius stood there for a while, utterly shocked. Vyn hurled the blade too skillfully that blood trickled down his ear—only a slight brush with the knife, truly, and there was only a minor sting—and Marius recalled it again and again, the way that knife went past him so swiftly, almost like a soft winter’s breeze.

Maybe he deserved it. He’d broken not only Vyn’s delftware but his nose, too.

“Just to remind you, my darling.” Vyn stood steady far across him, his gun hanging by his side, his other arm still held forth after throwing the knife like a sports dart. He was bleeding, his nose and his arm, yet his poise was much like a prince’s, still, as if he hadn’t partaken in this chaos of an indoor shoot-out.

Oh and despite himself, Marius swooned when Vyn had addressed him darling.

“That you destroyed my fridge.” He leveled his gun, his aim at Marius’ direction. “And inside that fridge were all the pastries I had worked so hard for this goddamn week—more particularly that matcha cake.”

Ah, Marius thought, almost nodding unconsciously. I’m thoroughly fucked, then.

The psychiatrist fired another time, only once, but close enough to shoot off Marius’ ear.

Thoroughly, completely, perfectly fucked.

If that bullet blasted a few inches down Marius was sure he’d only have one serviceable ear left. Fuck it. Vyn’s aim was as good as his so thank the heavens the odds somehow favored him tonight because if they didn’t, his head would be pounding with a static burn at this very moment for he got his ear blown off to oblivion.

Marius sprinted. Not out, because the hallway was narrow and with how accurate Vyn’s aim is, he was certain he’d get shot at some point. So instead he darted to the side at lightspeed. “Goddammit, Vyn!” he shouted as Vyn fired constantly, following his every stride; thank goodness there were no kitchen lights and Vyn couldn’t see clearly even with those ugly glasses. “You’re really going to blow off my ear? How am I to hear your needy moans then?”

“You will not hear them again.”

“Not of pleasure,” said Marius as he slid behind the mid counter, hiding away from Vyn. He tugged open the small cabinet and swiftly made a slice on the gas hose before he slithered away like a madman and out to the archway. It would be nasty with that leaking gas and Vyn’s shotgun.

Wow, thank god we weren’t all into electric shit.

When Vyn fired, the kitchen exploded in flames.

Vyn threw himself back, and he crashed into the wooden floor, breaking his glasses in the process. Every part of him ached, and his head pounded; his vision was obscured without his glasses, the narrow hallway a distant horizon he was not sure he’d reach because he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—

His thighs burned, a hot, searing pain pulsating within his loins, and it was only then that he realized he was on fire. Like it was his second nature the doctor halted thrashing and crawled to the nearest open space, that area near the archway, and rolled himself across, exhausting the flames on his person.

He wouldn’t dare glance at his burns. He couldn’t stomach them for sure.

Not because they were gruesome, no, but because he cared greatly for his vanity, and now his efforts had been all in vain. So much for face and body value.

He snatched his gun, then, and hastened out of the burning kitchen and into the dining area.

Vyn didn’t mind the burn, the throbbing, the pain that wished to devour him. Not when his adrenaline was spiraling and begging to be put to fucking use. His instinct—an assassin’s or a husband’s, he couldn’t discern—led him out and around the lobby, up the stairs, to that one, distinctive chamber his husband treasured most.

The Atelier.

The memories rushed in with each step, every soundless stride. He’d designed that room with Marius, had decorated it day and night with him. Had baked cookies and delivered them there, so Marius would have something to eat as he worked on his new opuses; had stayed by his side as he recounted stories with his paint.

Had taken off his silken robe as he perched on the chaise, naked, looking so ethereal as Marius painted him, brought his beauty to canvas.

The reward? Marius had fucked him silly all through the night, on that very same couch.

Vyn took deep breaths. He acknowledged those memories, accepted them. Then locked them all away.

He hoisted his gun, and tiptoed close, closer. No signs told him Marius was inside, but Vyn steered forward, trusting his gut as it churned at his intuition—he is here. I do not know why, but I know he is here.

He ticked that box with a check.

As he entered the room a silencer shot, hitting just behind him. Marius stood by the opened windows, his weapon in hand; a thick cable wrapped around the atelier’s metal handle and it fell outside, down to Vyn’s precious garden. He was escaping.

“Heh.” Vyn aimed his gun at Marius, the smirk on his face menacing. “Planning for escape?”

Marius threw him an annoyed glance. “You put the house on a fucking lockdown.”

Vyn shrugged his shoulders. “You were able to open that window,” he said. “Whatever happened to the alarms?”

“Switched them off first.”

“And the window?” No one was supposed to open any part of the house when it is on lockdown.

“I know shit on this house that you don’t know of.”

“Ah. Well, that does not matter.” Vyn trod forward, careful. The weapons were still aimed at one another as he neared a small, circular table where Marius’ rarest pigments sat in glass bell jars. “What matters is… oh, look. These are your pigments.”

“Vyn.”

“Such rare pigments,” mused Vyn, eyeing the expensive, imported, rare set of paints atop the table.

Marius took a cautionary step forward. His hand reached towards his husband, the gesture as if attempting to halt whatever deranged thing Vyn framed out to do. “Vyn—”

“Imported from Italy, yes?” The older man trailed, his finger brushing against the glass. “Ah. And this one was from our Grand Tour—France, if I remember correctly. From Louvre.”

“Don’t shoot it.” Marius’ voice shook. “Don’t fucking shoot it.”

Vyn stopped. He chuckled—then looked up at Marius. “All right,” he said with an innocent smile, “I won’t.”

Then struck the table’s legs so it tumbled down, onto the floor, the special paints now mere, vibrant stains that tarnished the wooden tiles.

Vyn sneered at Marius. “Screw you.”

And proceeded to fire not to his husband, but everything inside the atelier: the canvases, both empty and brimming with colors, the vases and the chairs and stools, the portraits on the wall, the unfinished sketches and all the works in progress—the Seti Falls among other brilliant landscapes of their travels in Skadi, in and around Stellis, all the way to Europe.

Marius seethed, and one may even argue he was about to breathe out flames. “You fucking fiend—”

Vyn halted his advances when his aim pointed to an unfinished portrait of him.

Gods, he looked beautiful in it. Like the image of a prince, one of which a hopeful maiden would see only in the fairytales she reads, wondering if she’d ever snag a man as handsome as him. His lips were curved into a half-smile, all so lucious, and Vyn felt that familiar, rancid guilt tug at him—only a little, he wanted to deny it—as he wondered the many hours Marius had worked to capture him as beautifully as he could. Not that it was a hard task, for Vyn had always been a most spectacular muse, but still…

He lowered his gun and spared that portrait from his rage—saved himself from his own, unfettered violence.

But soon enough, Dr. Richter would realize that only portrait Vyn had been granted salvation.

Vyn nonchalantly aimed at his husband another time, did not hesitate, even a sliver, as he pulled the trigger toward Marius. But Marius dodged and rolled to his back, deftly until he tumbled against the wall under the window, and with a terrifyingly calm expression poised himself to kneel on the tiles.

Vyn reloaded his gun. “What are you doing, kneeling there?” he seethed. “Have you given up, darling?”

“No,” said Marius, a chuckle rumbling down his body. His amethyst eyes had darkened, and Vyn tensed, feeling gooseflesh all over his skin as Marius took something out of his person—a hand grenade.

“You know what,” the young von Hagen began, his voice low and cold, “I shouldn’t have tended your garden during the days you weren’t here.”

“You are to stop this instant.”

“What do you say? Fuck off and say adiós to your precious little garden.” It only took a split of a second as Marius pulled the pin with his mouth, and tossed it behind him, the grenade hurtling over his husband’s precious sanctuary of roses and lilies.

Only a split second before Vyn Richter’s garden exploded into a thousand, splendid fireworks.

And if it weren’t for his unmitigated, passionate fury thrumming with each breath, each step, and every thunder of his heart transcending over the harrowing, golden flames burning in the dead of night, of which singed the beloved flowers he’d tended to for years, Vyn would’ve fallen to his knees onto the wooden tiles, and cried his heart out in heavy grief.

But Vyn stood there, not moving an inch, as he watched the scorching fire. The flares flickered in his eyes, round and round the deepest trenches of those golden hues, until all he could see and feel was…

Well, nothing. As if unbothered.

However his mind, his brilliant mind toiled clearly—too vivid, the thoughts smooth-sailing in his ocean of schemes.

“Dieser verdammte Marius,” he muttered—that goddamn Marius—as he strode near the doorway, opened an emergency cabinet, and pulled the heavy, metal handle, activating the manor’s fire sprinklers.

Wet chemicals erupted from the ceilings, all over the house. Vyn navigated the halls and the rooms with precision, checking the bedroom, the lounge, the bar, in a search for a certain von Hagen.

He hoisted his gun as he trod to each chamber, each corridor. Vyn went down the stairs and proceeded, with much caution, to the main living room—

When a click sounded behind him.

“Let’s stop this now, Vyn,” Marius said quietly as he drew closer, his silencer only a meter or two away from his husband’s back.

“Unlock the house, and we can separate in peace—”

Vyn swung around, pivoting on his heel, and knocked Marius’ weapon out of his grasp.

Marius stumbled to the side, but maintained his balance almost as instantly. “What the—”

“You are naive to think that after all this, I would let you out.” Now it was his time to brandish his gun, leveling the weapon slowly to Marius, who now had both hands raised in surrender. He was on the farthest corner of the room, trapped; his only escape was the very path Vyn stood on, getting in his way out, deliberately so. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

“Your loving husband.”

Vyn’s brow raised, and his features scrunched into disdain. “I would not say that—”

He was cut off by Marius pouncing onto him with all his weight, Marius’ hands wrapped around his own, restricting him and the gun. And before Vyn could even try to get away Marius sent him to the ground—Marius had forcefully slid his leg against Vyn’s, and when his husband lost his balance, the two of them plunged into the floor.

At the impact, Vyn’s grip loosened, and Marius kicked the gun away from them as he helped himself up.

Oh, zounds. Why did I kick it away? I should’ve taken it—

A flower vase came hurtling toward him, and Marius shielded his face from the glass, letting it break into tiny shards as it fell to the floor. And his jaw might’ve been broken, too, for Vyn had suddenly appeared in front of him, and threw Marius the best jaw-breaking punch he had ever received.

“Fuck—”

It was painful, to be sure, but he had no time for such. He caught Vyn rushing to the doorway.

What’s he doing?

Marius’ face scrunched and he winced, the pain in his jaw utterly excruciating.

Oh.

Fuck.

He’s going for the gun.

“No way in hell.”

Marius the nearest object he could find—a mini coffee table—and hurled it in Vyn’s direction.

He stood on his feet and sprinted to the doorway. The table had hit Vyn’s torso, the impact heavy on his waist, and he dropped to the floor, groaning in pain.

But before Marius could reach for the gun himself, Vyn held him by the leg.

He landed face-forward. His arms, thank goodness, saved him from rendering his handsome face wretched. Marius rolled onto his back, only for Vyn to lunge at him.

Vyn first threw a punch to his jaw yet again, but Marius caught his wrists. With a mighty force Marius was able to toss Vyn to the side—he was the stronger one, after all—and Vyn ended up with his back against the couch.

Vyn was still recuperating when Marius came to wrap his hands around Vyn’s neck, restricting his breathing. His hands went instinctively around Marius’, punching and pulling and desperate to get away. At last Vyn gathered enough strength to move away from the chaise and to the side, bringing Marius with him; Marius who, despite his strength, admitted to struggling with Vyn’s futile attempts to escape.

But the next thing Marius knew, he was throwing his husband across the room.

Vyn flew directly to the massive grandfather’s clock, the glass shattering and raining over him.

Blood now stained the doctor’s face, his body. But at that very minute he wouldn’t feel any wound, any injury. Just the unfaltering will to fight to death with his husband.

He felt betrayed.

He was scared. He was so scared he would lose him—to a woman, to PAX, to this. Add the five consecutive nights he’d prepared dinner for them and Marius never came home.

He’d rather end the marriage here than in court.

Marius dashed towards him, ready to pounce. Vyn caught sight of the expensive wine bottles on the table beside him.

And so he snatched two of the wine bottles and smashed them on either side of Marius’ head. The bottles crashed, and Marius bellowed in pain. Crimson leaked in his skin, his clothes—was it the wine? His blood? Vyn swallowed as took in the sight of his husband, hands on his head, moaning in deep pain; he looked away immediately and strode out from Marius’ reach.

Marius chuckled. “Of course you’ll go for the gun.”

“Do you not think it the easiest way out?” Vyn merely said, his voice higher, obviously vexed. Yet the way he spat those words was honeyed, still. “I shoot you, I win.”

“Is that what this is all about?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.” Marius staggered, but pressed onward. “Then you’re not getting that gun.”

In quick strides Marius threw himself at Vyn, but the older man rolled himself easily over the couch. Marius pushed the chaise to the side with one swift move, and only the oval glass-lined coffee table separated them.

Like that table’s gonna do shit.

And it all began with footwork. In his fighting stance, Marius assessed his husband, the two of them circling around the table slowly, vigilantly. Waiting for the other to hint at their weakness, to give away their hidden cards—neither knew the other’s tricks, having only found out their secret careers this evening.

But goddammit, Marius cursed inwardly as he observed his muse with that perfect sparring form, however his bearing elegant, still. The lock of his shoulders, the way his forearms were bent to his elbows, his knees curved just right; that determined face, his brimming confidence—goddammit, goddammit, goddammit.

Perfect.

He’s perfect.

I love him.

“Well fuck me. You always made me carry your heavy stuff, but now you look like you’re ready to carry me to my grave.”

Vyn smirked—then pushed the table with his foot.

The force was too strong that Marius knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it on his own, and that he’d only hurt whatever part of him that met the table’s edge. The table slid forward, launching straight at Marius, and all he could do was leap on top of the table.

It was small, that table. Marius lost his balance and fell face-forward to the marble tiles.

“Fuck it,” he groaned, his elbows stinging. “I fucking hate you—”

Vyn gripped his shoulder and swung him around, his back now on the floor. “Hello, my love,” he purred as he pinned both Marius’ hands atop his head, then straddled him. “Do you like this?”

Marius smirked. “You on top? Hell yeah.”

Vyn’s fist went flying to his face.

“FUCK—” Marius groaned, his nose stinging. He could almost taste the metallic tang of blood. “I can’t believe you ordered me to carry your shit around when you can punch this hard.”

“You betrayed me.” Vyn landed another punch. “You are a liar! You lied to me!”

“Look who’s fucking talking!”

“Go to hell.”

With his weakening grip on Marius, the young von Hagen was able to snatch his arms and finally turn the goddamn tables. He wrapped his legs around Vyn’s torso and flung themselves to the side.

Vyn gasped. Marius now sat on top of him, towering over him. His grip on Vyn’s wrists was too tight they could’ve been red with the mark of his fingers, or a nasty purple because of bruising—god, they could’ve been a pale blue for that grip might as well halt the blood from coursing through.

“Now, now, sweetheart.” Marius pinned his lover’s wrists on the floor. He noted the slightly frantic tussling, Vyn’s… sexy labored breathing. “I think I like this better,” he whispered. “Me on top of you.”

And Vyn could only gasp as Marius grappled his throat. Not to kill him—to weaken him, somehow. To make him lose consciousness. And then he’ll decide from there.

“Hck—” Vyn’s choking filled his ears and, even when he wanted to, he couldn’t look away. “M-Marius—”

Stop it. You’re hurting him.

His grip did not weaken.

“Hck… P-Please—”

Don’t say it. Don’t.

Say it. Vyn hurt you. You’re just returning the favor.

I can’t...

“Look at you. I love choking you like this,” Marius spat, his eyes dark and wicked. I’m going to hell for this—I’m sure of it. “If only this were a different circumstance.”

He caught Vyn’s arm flailing to his sides, and Marius wondered why he’d suddenly stopped grasping the hands that throttled him—until Vyn seized something and smashed it to his head, sending him backward.

A lampshade this time. From yet another small desk drawer just beside them.

Well, Marius thought. I should’ve seen that coming.

Vyn was, however, still frail from Marius’ attempt to strangle him. His breathing was strained, his face breaking out in cold sweat.

And hot tears rolled down his pale, bloodied cheeks.

However his adrenaline pumped again, and again, and even when his head pounded a fire burned from within, and he tried to go on all fours, a futile attempt to stand.

Marius now stood, albeit unsteadily due to the impact of the lampshade on his temple. “Come on, honey,” he managed to say despite himself, imitating a sparring stance, “come to daddy.”

Vyn inhaled a sharp breath.

He turned on his back, then, and used all his remaining strength to kick his husband’s groin.

“Fucking fiend—” Marius moaned in agony as he fell to his knees.

“Heh,” Vyn chuckled darkly. “Who’s your daddy now?”

“Ahahaha,” Marius managed a laugh. For some reason, it did not sound even the least sarcastic. In fact, it sounded so… genuine. “That’d still be me, Vyn,” he breathed, “still me.”

Then he rolled to the side, Vyn the other way around.

When they got up to their feet, nimble as men who were yet to be injured and beaten up, Vyn and Marius found themselves in a rather precarious situation:

Their guns on each other’s heads.

Blood coated their faces. Some trickled down, some already dried from earlier’s violence, the crimson-brown marking their skin as if pinpointing just where they had tried to inflict pain on one another. Desperate breaths filled the thrashed room, heaving in attempts to ease the thumping hearts, seemingly beating for something other than the desire to kill—perhaps beating for love, still.

The room had now quieted. No more crashing and shattering and heavy thuds brought about by relentless kicking and punching and hurling. The once catastrophic space was now but a peaceful one, at least in terms of sound and every other external force of nature.

“Let us end this here.”

Vyn’s tone never wavered. It was still as honeyed, elegant. But neither had the strength to actually ask, is that what you really want?

“Baby.”

“Stop,” he said, or rather breathed, as if Vyn had drained all capacity to speak, and Marius almost didn’t hear it, but he did. He always did. “Don’t you dare call me that.”

“Okay.” Marius nodded. His gaze remained fixated on Vyn, who so determinedly held out his gun, although Marius wondered why his finger was a little far off from the trigger. He took that as a good sign—something to hold onto. “So,” he began, his silencer still aimed towards his husband, “what now?”

I do not know, he had the urge to say. But he wouldn’t say it. Not in this life.

“Are we to stay like this the entire night, Vyn?”

“No, of course not.”

“Should I worry now?”

“As you should.”

“You’re going to kill me?”

Vyn’s eyes snapped to him, meeting those eyes of dark amethyst, and Vyn realized he hadn’t been looking at Marius this whole time, only to a random part of his face so it would seem like he was strong enough to take this head-on. But when their eyes met he felt his breath catch, and gods did Vyn want to whip everything back in time just so this didn’t happen. Just so he would have him back.

It is still him, he told himself. This youthful man, so willingly returning his gaze even though Vyn bore some brutal promise, always the man who could see him, who chooses to see through him and accepts what sought refuge beneath the facade—still Marius.

My Marius.

Vyn gasped, more loudly than he’d intended, when the silencer dropped to the floor.

His line of sight panned up to Marius. “What are you doing?” he hissed with unmistakable, rising fury. “Pick it up.”

Marius raised his arms, slowly, in surrender. “I don’t want to.”

“Pick up the gun.”

“I can’t.”

He inhaled sharply that the air could cut his throat, which was painfully drying, his heartbeat starting to race another time as he attempted to persuade him, “Pick it up, Marius! Pick the fucking gun—”

“No,” Marius said, shaking his head in regret.

“FIGHT. FAIR. THIS IS NOT FAIR.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Believe me.”

He was pleading, and Vyn knew that. Not pleading for his life, but pleading his love.

Until Vyn asked, “Why did you do it?”

His eyes lit up. It didn’t matter whether Vyn would accept his answer, he didn’t even care if he would believe him, but he was so damn happy Vyn was at least interested to know. And he deserved the truth—he ought to grant his husband that.

“I’m…” He breathed in, his line of sight entirely on the floor, trying to find the perfect explanation. “I don’t know. I guess I just love—”

“Killing other people?”

He looked up at Vyn. “Bloodlust—that’s it, yeah?”

Vyn scoffed. “Bloodlust. Are you kidding me?”

“I had killed someone for Giann. Accidentally,” he began, “an act of self-defense, to save myself and him. He was drugged and unconscious and we were alone, and we were kids.

“And I felt like a different person, you know? Stabbing that man to death. Torturing him until he begged that I end his suffering. Instead I got a blunt knife…” He trailed, his voice now dripping with that familiar longing, that familiar tone of satisfaction Vyn so knew about him, “started carving the family insignia deep into his skin while I listened to his pleas, his screaming, and watched the way his blood leaked from his cuts…

“It was, to say the least, a feast to my senses.” Marius chuckled, his voice dark, almost evil. As if Vyn’s kind, youthful husband had gone, had turned into someone unspeakable, someone he didn’t know. Or perhaps, a Marius he has yet to meet. “That was when I realized I let another me live within. He’s someone who loved drawing blood, someone who craved for violence. All of this, Vyn—I do it all for fun. I couldn’t get it out of my system. So, yeah.”

“You could have told me,” whispered Vyn. Marius wanted to believe he saw those golden irises soften, even only for a passing beat. “You could have trusted me.”

“I trust you, baby. But no,” he said resolutely, “I love you, so damn much, and I wanted to be perfect for you.”

Marius took a step forward. Vyn’s grasp tightened around the gun.

But Marius pressed forth. Arms falling heavy on either side he took yet another step, his mouth curving on a slight, sad smile as he walked closer, and closer, dangerously closer to the beautiful man who carried such a hideous promise.

“I want to be the perfect man…” Marius halted, just a few breaths away from the gun aimed directly at him. He crouched a little, leaned forward—

Vyn gasped. His whole body tremored, a sudden chill running all over his skin.

Marius wrapped his long fingers around the gun’s barrel, tugging it towards himself, pressing his chest against the hot muzzle. “The perfect husband for you.”

He observed as Vyn continued to nibble on his lower lip, biting it hard that it reddened with the threat of blood, and Marius’ chest tightened as he saw those golden hues now glossy with emerging tears. Vyn’s breathing had gone from composed to ragged, and soon the hand which held the gun started to shake.

“Vyn,” his husband called softly, “I love you, okay?”

He was surprised to feel hot tears filling his eyes, a stray of it rolling past his bloodied cheek. “Marius…”

“Vyn?”

“I…” he paused, grasping for words, suddenly losing all the vigor to fight. His heart shattered at this, at everything—at himself for being such a petty husband who never truly gave Marius the chance to prove himself, all because of some missed dinners. Who never gave Marius the benefit of the doubt even when Vyn saw in his eyes a flicker of hope.

He was so lost swimming in his ocean of thoughts that he never noticed Marius, who started easing away the gun ever so calmly, and Vyn—exhausted and drained out of his wits—allowed him his weapon to make its descent, down until he himself decided to drop it to the floor.

And he seemed to be in a daze indeed as Marius pressing closer to him went unnoticed, until Vyn realized, only after almost a minute, that Marius had gotten their bodies closer, almost skin to skin…

Marius knew he was quite awake now—from all his little reveries—and while he expected Vyn to land another blow or finish him once and for all, he was surprised when his husband’s gaze flitted from his lips before it settled up to his eyes, his pale, slender hands sliding to his chest as he whispered, “I love you too, Marius.”

Then Vyn was pushed onto the couch.

The doctor gasped, too surprised that it was a pitch higher than usual, and for a moment he was afraid that Marius had gotten the upper hand with his trick and now he ought to strangle him, but his gut believed otherwise, and his gut turned out to be right because Marius leaned down to kiss him—rough and wet, hungry as his tongue lapped in his mouth, a quiet sentiment of how Marius would rather kiss and touch and fuck him instead of sending blazing bullets all over their house.

“Mm—oh, Marius…” he whined as Marius pressed against him, almost straddling him, his hands relishing the softness of Vyn’s face and disregarding the feel of dried blood there, and now making their way towards the back of Vyn’s head, fingers brushing, tangling, pulling on those silver locks.

He felt his pants tighten at the sound of Vyn’s moans, and he grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged his head back, suddenly feeling the lust of tasting Vyn’s exposed neck. Marius leaned down, his mouth pressed against his neck, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along soft skin, tasting blood and hot sweat. He bit lightly at the hollow of his shoulder—

“Ah!” Vyn cried in perhaps both pleasure and pain, his fingers clutching desperately on Marius’ sleeves—sleeves that were rolled all the way up near his elbows and it was so sexy Vyn almost wanted to wave the white flag, in the middle of their shoot-out, just so he could fuck him. So he could kiss him, kneel in front of him, fulfilling his husbandly duty of sucking his cock. “Marius…”

“We literally just started,” Marius said as he looked up to meet Vyn’s eyes, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips.

“Fuck you.”

“Darling, I’m about to.”

“Well why don’t you get on with it? Or would you rather waste my—oh, fuck—Marius!”

Vyn could only screw his eyes shut, and Marius could only let out a satisfied groan as he ground his hips against Vyn’s, biting his lip as he felt that hard erection, the proof of his husband’s growing need and oh, how he’d love to satisfy him. “What was that?”

“Will you ever stop talking—”

Marius shut him up with another kiss on the mouth. Vyn tasted sweet, as usual, however Marius made out the metallic flavor of blood, but it’s not like he would mind. It’s his husband’s blood, anyway, and he’d be most willing to take a sip of it, drink it, chug it until it sank down his throat the way he would his chocolate drink.

Ah, but Marius loved it more when it was Vyn who did that with his cum.

As he kissed Vyn he continued moving, grinding his hips until all he could hear were the melodies of Vyn’s whines and sighs, and gods was he so distracted Marius failed to notice Vyn already taking the matter into his own hands unbuttoning Marius’ shirt, and with fervent speed at that.

He suppressed a laugh as he bowed his head, watching in awe as Vyn fumbled with the buttons of his black shirt, breathing so hard and sensually as if he could wait no longer. In fact it felt like Vyn would be very much happy to just tear his shirt apart—not that his husband would mind, either.

“You were so determined to kill me earlier,” Marius said as Vyn unbuttoned the very last one, “but now you’re so hot and horny for me. I told you I did like your mood swings—hmph!”

He was cut off by Vyn’s mouth claiming his own—much to his delight—and soon he found himself hooking his arms under Vyn’s spine and the back of his legs, his feet then making way to their bedroom on the second floor. Vyn wrapped his arms around Marius’ neck instinctively, even pulling him closer as if he needed more, plenty more of him, and Marius loved the way his husband craved for his kisses that it must have given him some omniscient power to navigate the halls and the stairs in the dark so precisely.

In a minute a heavy thud reverberated, echoing across the massive bedroom as Marius opened the door—or rather twisted the knob then kicked the door—and went towards the bed with much haste. He’d licked, bitten, lapped at Vyn’s mouth one last time before he dropped him to the king-sized bed, covered in midnight-lacquered sheets, and proceeded to take off his shirt—

“Wait,” Vyn protested, but before his husband could respond he hooked his two fingers round the belt loop of Marius’ pants, and tugged him closer. It was so damn hot Marius’ cock twitched.

Suddenly he wanted to grab a fistful of Vyn’s hair and make him suck his dick. He’d fuck Vyn’s mouth so well with his hard cock the man would be a beautiful, crying mess the moment he swallowed his cum.

“I…” Vyn turned a little red. “I want to suck you.”

Marius swallowed as he hurried to comply, feeling a certain heat within him intensify. Vyn was already kneeling on the bed, making quick work unbuckling Marius’ belt and letting his cock spring free and fuck, Marius’ cock was heavy and warm and slick with precum, and Vyn felt his own twitch against the fabric of his pants.

He did not waste time. Vyn wrapped his long, slender fingers around his husband’s cock, feeling Marius throb against his palm, his cold fingers. He had sucked Marius dry since god knows when, but suddenly he felt like this was all new, that he was nervous and shy again, and it was as if he was taken back to their first night as two married men. That first night after Vyn said Yes, I do, I shall marry you, and Marius beamed and Vyn thought his husband could rival the sun. Funny what some husband quarrel and house violence could do to you—

“Just so you know, Vyn.” A low, impatient voice pulled him away from his thoughts. “I’m this close to shoving your face down my cock, if you don’t mind.”

Vyn bit his lip as he saw yet again that massive, hard cock staring right in front of him, waiting to be devoured. God, his husband’s cock was so beautiful, thick and velvety soft that his breath caught. And realizing once again that someone was getting impatient, Vyn leaned in and licked gently under the crown of Marius’ dick.

“Fuck.” Marius’ head dipped back, feeling his cock twitch against Vyn’s tongue. “Please—”

He rasped as Vyn complied, letting his mouth close around the head of his husband’s rock-hard cock—

“Fffuck,” Marius breathed, panting as Vyn made swirling motions with his tongue as he slid halfway down his length, “Fuck, Vyn!”

His eyes screwed shut, his hands clutching onto Vyn’s silver locks, and moaned out a broken cry as Vyn sucked his whole length, deep throating him, his wet, warm lips touching his Marius’ hot skin. “Fuck, Jesus.”

Vyn moaned around his cock, and as Marius felt it vibrate around him he dipped his head back again, seeing the goddamn stars. Vyn’s moaning didn’t stop even as he sucked his husband’s dick, Marius’ cock moving in and out of his mouth. Marius tasted so good. Every time Vyn sucked him it seemed he tasted even better and better, as if there were new flavours to his taste of clean sweat, of salty skin, and god even his precum seemed heavenly to Vyn’s tongue, melting like chocolate. His eyes fluttered shut as he sucked. God, he would suck this man’s cock forever.

Until Marius tugged Vyn’s head back, “Fuck, wait.” He panted heavily, and as he saw Vyn lick his lips—still glistening wet from his own saliva and Marius’ precum—Marius wanted to plug that pretty little mouth with his dick again. But he held himself together and said, “Wait. I’m… I was about to…”

“I’d swallow everything, Marius.”

“Fuck, stop it. Stop it or you’ll have to choke on my dick the rest of the evening.”

“What is the matter?”

Marius’ cheeks tinged a bit pink. He looked much like a teenager who wanted to try sex with his crush. “I want to… I—”

“Too good?” Vyn smirked.

“Fuck you.” A smile tugged at the edge of his lips. Marius caressed Vyn’s hair, as softly as he could. “I want to come inside you.”

Vyn swallowed, his mind once again drawn to their little memories of fucking every night until both their legs had given in, and Marius thought the same. God, he couldn’t stop staring at his husband. Vyn looked ethereal bathed in the bedroom’s soft orange glow…

However this time it was Marius who was stripped—so quickly—from his reveries as he was pulled, thrown to the bed, with Vyn taking off his shirt, leaving his necktie around. His shirt was hauled off to the floor in a second, and now Vyn looked like some fallen angel as he straddled Marius, untying the silken tie with deft fingers, his wet lips parted in awe…

“What are you gonna do with that, huh?” Marius’ hand slipped round his husband’s waist. We’ve been married for years but goddammit, your waist is so fucking small.

“You’re gonna use that on me?” he added, whispering against the shell of Vyn’s ear, making his husband shudder. God, he loved it when Vyn did that. Loved it when his ministrations, even the smallest ones, had a great effect on him. “And look at you, don’t you think you’re a bit overdressed for the occasion?”

“I—ah—”

His cock twitched again that it almost hurt, as if begging to be hilted inside Vyn’s ass. Vyn had the sexy habit of whining and making those kinds of sounds whenever he’s surprised or caught unawares, like that very moment when Marius stripped him off his vest with one go, the buttons clinking on the floor in unison. Marius didn’t waste a second and gripped the sleeves of his doctor’s coat, tugging it off him.

Until Vyn caught his wrists and said, “Let me.”

The muse started taking off his vest—slowly, tantalizingly. He knew all too well this act was a feast for his husband’s eyes, for his cock. The slutty bottom that he was, Vyn removed his clothing alongside his heavy, sexy breathing, his mouth slightly ajar, with some stray, silver strands falling over his eyes.

The vest went abandoned. Thrown to the floor just like all else. The shirt followed, Vyn making sure the sounds he made were heard, acknowledged—oh acknowledged indeed, what with his husband’s erection poking against his leg—and he couldn’t help but suppress a smile knowing Marius was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

When everything was unbuttoned, Vyn let the right sleeve slide down his arm, revealing some skin on his chest, his collarbone, his shoulder. Marius had seen it all, but still he thought he looked so ethereal, and so hot all the same that he was torn between treating him right—sweetly, gently—and fucking him so rough and so hard he won’t be able to walk the next day.

By instinct, Marius looked away. He bit his lip as he did, setting his sights away as he was suddenly so overwhelmed, so doubtful—do I even deserve this, he asked himself, realizing that it had been his fault why the shoot-out occurred in the first place: he missed a lot of dinners with Vyn. He was always out for his business of killing other people. He hurt him in all ways possible, especially tonight.

But then, “Marius.”

His gaze returned to Vyn. “Darling?”

“Do not look away.” Vyn’s hands, soft and cold, reached to caress his face. “Just look at me,” he said, his voice like that of an angel’s, “this is all yours—all of me. I am yours.”

Marius made sure that shirt was off his husband immediately.

He’d kissed him again, a mix of love and dominance, of lust and longing. Arms tight around Vyn’s waist he pulled his muse close to him, skin to skin, but he wanted them to be closer. He wanted to be inside him—to own him, body and soul.

He loved Vyn. Marius wouldn’t know who he is without him.

“I love you,” he grunted as Vyn ground against his erection, “I love you.” His hands wandered up his spine and down his ass, squeezing it, eliciting a moan from Vyn. “I love you.”

But it wasn’t long until Marius took his black, silken tie, staring intently, lustfully at Vyn before he hoisted it in between them, “May I?”

Vyn raised his wrists in answer. “And my tie?”

“For your eyes,” Marius said, his eyes darkening. “I was thinking your mouth, but I love hearing your noises.

“I love hearing your moans. Your whines. I love it when you scream my name.”

Marius licked his lips, and his chest swelled with triumph as he saw Vyn shiver again, turned on by a few words. Vyn gasped in surprise as Marius finished tying his wrists, pulling on the knot a bit harshly than he’d intended.

“Now,” Marius said as he worked on Vyn’s red tie, “you love the dark, don’t you darling?”

A whine escaped his lips as he was pushed to the bed. He couldn’t even recall how Marius looped and that red, silken tie around his eyes. All he knew now was he’s on the bed, on his back, his hands tied in front of him. “Ah, Marius…”

“What was that?”

Vyn could only nibble on his lower lip. “Please… oh!”

He moaned as he felt his husband’s mouth, warm and wet, close around his nipple. His toes curled at the sensation, especially at how Marius knew just how to kiss, lick, and suck his nipple and make him cry and moan so loud. His body moved frantically, the pleasure almost maddening now that his vision was obscured, and not knowing what Marius was gonna do next was killing him.

However soon he felt large hands grip his thighs, hoisting them, and Vyn most willingly submitted by wrapping his legs around Marius’ hips. He was now on top of him, could feel his hot, ragged breaths against his skin.

“You’re so hot,” Marius whispered as he kissed Vyn’s beauty mark, that one on his collarbone, “I just love fucking you so much,” he said, before unbuttoning Vyn’s pants and sliding his hand down under, wrapping his fingers around Vyn’s length.

“Oh! Marius, ah—”

“Yes, just like that…”

“Please!”

“You like that? Damn, you’re actually making this harder for me… let me just…”

Marius stopped, his hurrying hands fumbling on Vyn’s pants, in much haste to get inside him. Oh how badly he wanted to fuck his husband when he all but looked like a willing captive, writhing underneath him—he let his fingers travel down under, lingering on Vyn’s back, then trailing further south, massaging his arse, lifting Vyn a little in the process.

Marius did not waste any more time and took the head of his own cock, moving his hard-on closer until it rubbed softly, carefully over Vyn’s hole. He rasped as he did a little push inside. “Shit.”

“M-Marius…”

Marius took that as his signal to push further, letting out a small grunt as he moved another inch, then another, and he took satisfaction witnessing Vyn’s mouth parting as he whined, silver brows furrowed in pleasure. “Ohh, Marius—”

Marius gripped on his husband’s waist and hilted his entire cock inside him.

Vyn whined again, so loud Marius wondered if his voice reached the outside, even with their windows closed. Vyn cried as Marius moved inside him, his thick, warm cock fitting perfectly in his ass, hilting deeper and deeper with each thrust that Vyn couldn’t stop muttering curses and Marius, Marius didn’t have any words for it—just sounds, low and needy. Just grunts, and moans, and whines and cries.

Marius thrust again. Harder, deeper—

“Ohh, just like that!”

“Yeah?”

“Mm—ohh, f-faster please—!”

Marius nodded frantically, and he thought how much Vyn had an effect on him that, despite Vyn being the one tied up and writhing underneath him, Marius was actually the one in his mercy.

Good. Deservedly so. Vyn Richter was his Saving Grace and he’d worship the man forever.

“Ah—fuck! Marius…!” moaned the older man, biting his lip as he welcomed the familiar pain—and pleasure—down his nether part. It was only then Marius realized he had been too excited to claim Vyn that the thought of using a lubricant or even covering his dick with saliva never crossed his mind.

“Fuck, Vyn. Does it hurt?” he asked, but never stopped moving, pulling and pushing back in.

“N-no! It feels good. You feel good…” he moaned as he shook his head, “I’d rather you—ah!—fucked me hard.”

And it was enough to make Marius pin his husband’s hands atop his head, cursing as he thrust in, and out, so hard and so deep tears started rolling down Vyn’s pale cheeks. “Faster?”

“Y-yes!”

Marius gripped hard around Vyn’s wrists, railing the man as hard as he could, making Vyn cry with each powerful thrust. The sounds of wet, forceful squelching echoed across the room and, partnered with Vyn Richter’s needy moans, Marius thought damn, I should’ve brought a recorder.

Well, it’s not like he couldn’t do that soon. Pretty sure Vyn would be most willing to film all their blasphemous activities together. “I’m close.”

“M-me too…” Vyn bit his lip, his back arching in ecstasy brought about by their bodies, skin to skin. Marius pounded faster. It felt like fire, really, and he felt his stomach surging and ebbing and surging again and again with pleasure. They moved in sync now, Vyn’s hips thrusting to match his husband’s pace, and he knew he was close when he felt that electric sensation zipping through his veins, his loins, his cock. “M-Marius…!”

His balls drew up tight as Marius slammed into him, again and again. Vyn could only let out a broken cry as he sensed Marius’ hand grasping his cock, jerking it as fast and as hard, perfectly matched with the way Marius pumped his dick inside him in a relentless rhythm.

Vyn came. Loud, majestic, his hot cum spurting on Marius’ stomach and making a beautiful mess there, much like the way he was one. His head was fucking spinning and he thanked Marius for it. And he kept on crying out even as Marius came, his fresh seed filling Vyn up like he was always meant to.

He kept on going. Grinding in him so deep, so sensual, thrusting again and again and letting his very hard cock feel inside Vyn, helping both of them through the very last of their orgasms. Again, then again. One last time, until Vyn croaked weakly, and Marius grunted as he fell on the empty space on the bed, beside his husband.

Despite the exhaustion, he shifted to his side. Took the blindfold off his husband. Vyn’s eyes fluttered open immediately, albeit blearily, the fringe of his long, silver lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He gave Marius a weak smile. “That was…”

Marius let out a soft laugh, feeling the last bits of his energy dripping away. “I want to fuck you again.” He relaxed, but felt himself stiffen at the sight of his husband: ethereal. Beautiful with his cheeks flushed and mouth parted, his neck and chest gleaming in sweat. Vyn Richter, once again, in the afterglow of mindblowing sex.

“I love you,” he whispered, though he was not sure if Vyn heard. His eyes were already closed, and he looked like he was fast asleep. Marius smiled and snuggled close to him, with Vyn’s soft breathing lulling him to slumber.

Sometime around his dream, if he ever truly dreamed, he heard a silken voice say, “I love you, too.” Felt a gentle kiss on his forehead once, twice. Then another, “I will love you forever.”

When he awoke in the middle of the night, the quiet surrounding them, he saw Vyn was sound asleep. He rested his head against the hollow of Vyn’s neck, inhaling his sweet scent, and wrapped his arms around him. “Vyn,” he whispered, “I’ll love you forever, too,” before he kissed him on the cheek.

Somehow, Marius knew he hadn’t dreamt it.

Vyn awoke three hours earlier than usual, his eyes bleary, almost blind as he stared at the digital clock which blinked 5:58 AM. He wouldn’t be up this early, but his phone rang so alarmingly in the distance—atop that couch beside their bed where Marius fucked him the whole night—and with a ringtone he wouldn’t dare not pick up, lest he received yet another lecture. An hour or two of it, even if that lecture came from his, well… not his superior, because he was the superior.

He sighed—it was his junior calling. “Good morning, my rose.”

“DON’T ‘MY ROSE’ ME, RICHTER-VON HAGEN!” came his beloved junior’s rather sweet response, and Vyn instinctively pulled his phone away from his ear, unless he wanted his hearing damaged forever. “WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO YOU?”

“Language, beloved.”

“VYN!” Ah, there it was. He knew she was suppressing those sobs. It was conspicuous she had been pulling back tears the moment Vyn answered the call, the moment she’d heard his voice and confirmed he was alive, although not much well. “I was so, so worried about you… I thought… I thought you were—” she paused to take a light sniff, “dead. The squad is on their way. What happened?”

“I… I cannot tell you right now. I am sorry, dear,” he said, his gaze drifting to his husband who was still snoring in his sleep, and gods did Vyn thought Marius looked ethereal even during his most vulnerable moments. He fucked me so well last night…

“And please, Rosa,” he said, “tell the squad to halt their mission. I am all right—harmed, but I am faring well. And so is my husband.”

“Oh, my god. Mr. von Hagen was a witness?”

“Sort of. I shall tell you all about it when we meet.”

“Which is when, exactly?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied, his fingers running across the bare skin of his chest, wincing at the hurt from where Marius bit him. “You are in charge for now. Make certain the HQ is still up and about,” he said, “you are my second-in-command, so do what you must in my stead. Meet me tomorrow, same place.”

“Oh, uh—tomorrow, you said?”

“Yes. Is something the matter, dear?”

“Er, well…” she trailed, and Vyn’s brow arched in curiosity. He tried to rewind their past conversations, see if she’d mentioned anything she ought to accomplish tomorrow. There was nothing in particular, and Vyn was about to tell her twice until she cleared her throat and answered, “I actually… have a date tomorrow, Vyn.”

Ah. Understandable.

However, “I have taught you of the risks which comes along with our line of work. I hope you do keep your emotions out of your job—”

“What a hypocrite,” Marius muttered beside him. Was this idiot fake-sleeping the whole time?

“Never you mind. I am not against your relationships. I will meet you in two days, then,” Vyn continued—not without glaring at his husband first and foremost in the morning—and added, “but of course, what is this lucky lad’s name? Age, hair colour—”

“Luke Pearce, thirty years old. Coral eyes, chestnut blonde, and very cute.”

“Make certain you put up his records in the office. That aside—please enjoy your date, Rosa.”

Vyn pressed on the end button. He was thinking whether to check up on his husband or do a background check on Luke Pearce first, but he heard another phone call—this time from Marius’ phone—and even though he never truly meant to listen… well, however could he not?

“Hey, Luke?”

Vyn’s ears perked at the sound of his name. Luke.

“Yeah, sure. Wait, you can’t tomorrow?” Marius asked through the phone, his voice getting inaudible as he yawned, “oh, man. Congrats on bagging your first date—oh, wait a minute. Is this girl Rosa you’re going out with?”

“Who is that?” Vyn mouthed to him with those piercing golden eyes. My junior, his husband mouthed back, shrugging his shoulders. It’s not like I can hide it anymore from you.

Well, Luke was not his junior since Luke was older by a few years, but Marius had been an assassin earlier than him. And, well… he was Luke’s boss.

Vyn didn’t need to do a background check. He’d have to pester Marius for it. Just great, what are the odds that their juniors were going on a date?

The first thing Marius did when he ended the phone call was tackle Vyn into a hug, which the older man reciprocated much lovingly (despite his grumpy morning face). He was still scowling, but it was a contrast to the warmth which he gave Marius in return, and the eagerness emanating from him as he pressed closer against Marius’ exposed chest. It wasn’t very soon that Vyn had started nuzzling his face against his husband’s cheeks, like a cat trying to be sweet.

“Vyn.”

“I thought you addressed me as darling or love or baby, but I suppose we—”

“Really, Vyn? This early in the morning?” Marius laughed as he cuddled him more. “You know, I was just gonna ask you something…”

“You want to fuck me again?”

And there it was, that familiar pout and puppy eyes, all too powerful even for Vyn that he knew immediately he wouldn’t be able to deny him. Well, it’s not like he’d decline some more good fucking. “Don’t you want me to?” Marius said, his pout much guilt-enducing now.

But not until Vyn pushed the sheets down until it reached his thighs, revealing his now bulging erection, his sudden craving for Marius. “Whatever are you waiting for?”

“Fuck. You sure know how to—”

Another phone call.

Vyn sighed and took the phone. His eyes widened, only for a fraction of a second, upon seeing the caller ID.

“Please tell me you’ll ignore that.”

“Unfortunately for us—” he slid a finger down the green button, “we cannot decline this one.

“Good morning, Captain Morgan.”

“This is Artem,” came that deep, familiar baritone, and Vyn felt himself shiver from the way Artem sounded in the mornings. The senior lawyer had always been a morning person, but there were times too wherein he was too lazy to get up for work—can you actually believe that?—so Vyn had to do all sorts of things to get him moving. His voice during those moments hadn’t changed at all: deep and husky, almost seductive.

“Artem,” he repeated, and the name seemed to capture Marius’ attention, too. “Good morning. Why are you calling this early in the morning? And why are you using Captain Morgan’s phone?”

There was a sigh at the other end of the line. “Darius forgot to bring his phone,” he answered. “I called to let you know he’s coming, along with his squad. Too many noise complaints last night. They’re going to investigate.”

“Just so you know, Wing—my house is an estate. I am quite certain no one was bound to hear us…” Oh, shit. Marius threw a grenade in my garden.

He shot Marius a glare before he returned, “Tell Captain Morgan to go home.”

“I kept telling him that,” he replied, quite vexed now. “It was supposed to be our day off, Vyn. Our only day off, and you just had to ruin it.”

“It is not my fault you cannot persuade your boyfriend to stay in bed with you.”

“Are we—”

“Hello there, Artem.” Marius had snagged the phone away from Vyn, having felt that impending argument that would probably last hours—he wouldn’t admit that he was only jealous because Artem was Vyn’s only ex-boyfriend, almost husband—and had taken matters into his own hands. “We’ll meet Captain Morgan when he gets here, all right? I’ll tell him to go home, so let’s have peace, yeah? Bye!”

“I could have handled that, Marius,” Vyn spat, but not before Marius hopped out of bed and went to browse through his cabinet. He got himself a clean set of sleepwear in pastel green, Vyn’s most adored colour, and threw the shirt in Vyn’s direction. “Give me the pants as well.”

“No,” said Marius, already in the process of wearing it, “you take the shirt, I take the pants. It’s too long for you, anyway.”

Vyn crossed his legs, folded his arms. “What are you planning?”

“We’re gonna give ‘em a show.”

When Vyn opened the front door to their house, he was met with the rather hot welcome of flashing lights, towering video cameras, fully-dressed reporters and papparazzis in all black. He could make out the faint sirens coming from the police cars parked outside the estate, and he only hoped no one was able to round the bend leading to his recently-bombed garden.

“Vyn Richter, is it true there was a shoot-out here last night?”

“Vyn, did you have a quarrel with Mr. von Hagen?”

“Vyn, the people are curious—is divorce on the table yet?”

“Are you and Mr. von Hagen are going to be available in the marriage market again?”

“Vyn, rumors say that you and Mr. von Hagen are involved in matters of Mafia and secret services. Is that true?”

“Vyn, are you pregnant?”

His eyed widened. “I beg your pardon?”

“VYN!”

If he really ought to be true to his role of being a… babygirl who would pretend to be lightheaded or unwell after coming across crazy reporters with no sense of privacy, he would’ve done it after a few more moments or so. However Vyn truly was made unwell by said blinding lights and mad interviewers, and by instinct he pressed a palm against his temple and leaned against the doorframe, suddenly dizzy at the commotion. “Please…”

“Give him space, everyone. Move, move!”

Oh, dear. Thank goodness for Captain Morgan, he thought as Darius practically shoved the reporters out of the way as he reached for Vyn. A strong hand gripped him by the arm, enough to steady his slowly unstable body. “You okay, Richter?”

“von Hagen,” he corrected. “And not quite, Captain.”

“You can hold onto me,” he said, then faced the crowd of reporters again, “stop it with the cameras. If I see another shot I’ll have you all arrested—”

“You better listen to him.” Marius stepped beside Vyn, and in a heartbeat slipped his arm around his huband’s slender waist. Vyn felt his cheeks grow warm at the feeling of Marius’ hand holding him around the waist, in front of all these people—not to mention he was only wearing a green button top and Marius only in his pajamas. Thank god the cameras had stopped—courtesy by Darius who threatened an arrest—because those dark red hickeys and bite marks were clearer than the clearest of blue skies.

This man, Vyn thought as he leaned against Marius’ chest, he really likes to show off, doesn’t he?

He tried to hide a chuckle. It was true Marius loved to show off, but he loved it most when Marius showed him off for everyone to see, for everyone to know who owned him. At this moment, the message was pretty clear. Even the most senseless person would make sense what Marius wanted to say—that Vyn was his, and Marius was Vyn’s. It was written all over the young von Hagen: from the smirk on his lips, the red marks on his exposed chest. The top which covered Vyn’s probably hickey-filled body.

And so Vyn acted the part, pretending to be nauseous as he rested his head against his husband’s shoulder this time, and hooking his arm around Marius’. “I am not feeling very well…”

Marius squeezed his waist gently. “I’ll get you inside,” he said, and Vyn nodded faintly. Marius then turned to Captain Morgan, who was staring at them rather incredulously. It was conspicuous he never wanted to be here, to witness all this—he’d rather spend the day fucking Artem. “Sorry, Cap. I’ll give you a call and help you fix our mess. For now…” he paused and gestured to an exhausted Vyn, “my husband needs rest. You’ll handle this for now, yeah?”

Darius sighed, massaging his temples. “Yes. I’ll also let Artem know.”

“You better go home to him. He was pretty pissed with us this morning.”

“And whose fault is that, Mr. von Hagen?”

“Ehh ~” Marius pouted, but before he could say another word Darius asked, “What am I going to report? There were a lot of noise complaints. Some said it sounded like a grenade.”

“The answer is right in front of you.” Marius winked. “You see, this is what happens when you’re away for work too long. You tend to really, really miss your husband…”

Darius wanted to roll his eyes—no, he wanted to punch Marius. Does this brat really expect me to write ‘very loud, earth-shattering sex’ as the reason for those noise complaints?

Whatever could he do, though? He couldn’t possibly deny the Marius von Hagen of all people. Besides, he was not anointed as the newest NXX member for him to report Marius and Vyn just like that. Fine—he was going to write that unreasonable reason.

Marius seemed to know Darius was not going to deny him, and so the captain was met with the von Hagen’s signature, youthful grin that seemed to say: Hehe, you can’t deny me, can you?

Darius eyed Vyn one more time. He didn’t seem as sick as he appeared, but Darius knew he was indeed exhausted. However he wondered, as he waved the couple goodbye and ordered the reporters and paparazzis to keep out lest they get arrested, how can Richter—er, von Hagen—be this radiant after that violent shoot-out?

The moment Marius closed the door, Vyn muttered:

“Tell Vincent to arrange you an appointment with me,” he said, almost half-moaned, “based on my findings last evening, you need psychiatric help.”

… This hypocrite!

#vyn richter #mo yi #tears of themis vyn #tears of themis #marius von hagen #tot artem #artem wing #darius morgan #rosa tears of themis #tears of themis luke #luke pearce #vynmarius #marivyn #vyn richter x marius von hagen #artem wing x darius morgan #lukerosa

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