#LED machine tool light

[qlightcoltd]

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[romerona]

Ethera Operation!!

You're the government’s best hacker, but that doesn’t mean you were prepared to be thrown into a fighter jet.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Awkward!Hacker! FemReader

Part I

This was never supposed to happen. Your role in this operation was simple—deliver the program, ensure it reached the right hands, and let the professionals handle the breaching.

And then, of course, reality decided to light that plan on fire.

The program—codenamed Ethera—was yours. You built it from scratch with encryption so advanced that even the most elite cyber operatives couldn’t crack it without your input. A next-generation adaptive, self-learning decryption software, an intrusion system designed to override and manipulate high-security military networks, Ethera was intended to be both a weapon and a shield, capable of infiltrating enemy systems while protecting your own from counterattacks in real-time. A ghost in the machine. A digital predator. A weapon in the form of pure code. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could disable fleets, and ground aircraft, and turn classified intelligence into an open book. Governments would kill for it. Nations could fall because of it.

Not that you ever meant to, of course. It started as a little experimental security measure program, something to protect high-level data from cyberattacks, not become the ultimate hacking tool. But innovation has a funny way of attracting the wrong kind of attention, and before you knew it, Ethera had become one, if not the most classified, high-risk program in modern times. Tier One asset or so the Secret Service called it.

It was too powerful, too dangerous—so secret that only a select few even knew of its existence, and even fewer could comprehend how it worked.

And therein lay the problem. You were the only person who could properly operate it.

Which was so unfair.

Because it wasn’t supposed to be your problem. You were just the creator, the brain behind the code, the one who spent way too many sleepless nights debugging this monstrosity. Your job was supposed to end at development. But no. Now, because of some bureaucratic nonsense and the fact that no one else could run it without accidentally bricking an entire system, you had been promoted—scratch that, forcibly conscripted—into field duty.

And your mission? To install it in an enemy satellite.

A literal, orbiting, high-security, military-grade satellite, may you add.

God. Why? Why was your country always at war with others? Why couldn’t world leaders just, you know, go to therapy like normal people? Why did everything have to escalate to international cyber warfare?

Which is how you ended up here.

At Top Gun. The last place in the world you wanted to be.

You weren’t built for this. You thrive in sipping coffee in a cosy little office and handling cyber threats from a safe, grounded location. You weren’t meant to be standing in the halls of an elite fighter pilot training program, surrounded by the best aviators in the world—people who thought breaking the sound barrier was a casual Wednesday.

It wasn’t the high-tech cyberwarfare department of the Pentagon, nor some dimly lit black ops facility where hackers in hoodies clacked away at keyboards. No. It was Top Gun. A place where pilots use G-forces like a personal amusement park ride.

You weren’t a soldier, you weren’t a spy, you got queasy in elevators, you got dizzy when you stood too fast, hell, you weren’t even good at keeping your phone screen from cracking.

... And now you were sweating.

You swallowed hard as Admiral Solomon "Warlock" Bates led you through the halls of the naval base, your heels clacking on the polished floors as you wiped your forehead. You're nervous, too damn nervous and this damned weather did not help.

"Relax, Miss," Warlock muttered in that calm, authoritative way of his. "They're just pilots."

Just pilots.

Right. And a nuclear warhead was just a firework.

And now, somehow, you were supposed to explain—loosely explain, because God help you, the full details were above even their clearance level—how Ethera, your elegant, lethal, unstoppable digital masterpiece, was about to be injected into an enemy satellite as part of a classified mission.

This was going to be a disaster.

You had barely made it through the doors of the briefing room when you felt it—every single eye in the room locking onto you.

It wasn’t just the number of them that got you, it was the intensity. These were Top Gun pilots, the best of the best, and they radiated the kind of confidence you could only dream of having. Meanwhile, you felt like a stray kitten wandering into a lion’s den.

Your hands tightened around the tablet clutched to your chest. It was your lifeline, holding every critical detail of Ethera, the program that had dragged you into this utterly ridiculous situation. If you could’ve melted into the walls, you absolutely would have. But there was no escaping this.

You just had to keep it together long enough to survive this briefing.

So, you inhaled deeply, squared your shoulders, and forced your heels forward, trying to project confidence—chin up, back straight, eyes locked onto Vice Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, who you’d been introduced to earlier that day.

And then, of course, you dropped the damn tablet.

Not a graceful drop. Not the kind of gentle slip where you could scoop it back up and act like nothing happened. No, this was a full-on, physics-defying fumble. The tablet flipped out of your arms, ricocheted off your knee, and skidded across the floor to the feet of one of the pilots.

Silence.

Pure, excruciating silence.

You didn’t even have the nerve to look up right away, too busy contemplating whether it was physically possible to disintegrate on command. But when you finally did glance up—because, you know, social convention demanded it—you were met with a sight that somehow made this entire disaster worse.

Because the person crouching down to pick up your poor, abused tablet was freaking hot.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a head of golden curls that practically begged to be tousled by the wind, and, oh, yeah—a moustache that somehow worked way too well on him.

He turned the tablet over in his hands, inspecting it with an amused little smirk before handing it over to you. "You, uh… need this?"

Oh, great. His voice is hot too.

You grabbed it back, praying he couldn't see how your hands were shaking. “Nope. Just thought I’d test gravity real quick.”

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and his smirk deepened like he was enjoying this way too much. You, on the other hand, wanted to launch yourself into the sun.

With what little dignity you had left, you forced a quick, tight-lipped smile at him before turning on your heel and continuing forward, clutching your tablet like it was a life raft in the middle of the worst social shipwreck imaginable.

At the front of the room, Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson stood with the kind of posture that said he had zero time for nonsense, waiting for the room to settle. You barely had time to take a deep breath before his voice cut through the air.

“Alright, listen up.” His tone was crisp, commanding, and impossible to ignore. “This is Dr Y/N L/N. Everything she is about to tell you is highly classified. What you hear in this briefing does not leave this room. Understood?”

A chorus of nods. "Yes, sir."

You barely resisted the urge to physically cringe as every pilot in the room turned to stare at you—some with confusion, others with barely concealed amusement, and a few with the sharp assessing glances of people who had no clue what they were supposed to do with you.

You cleared your throat, squared your shoulders, and did your best to channel even an ounce of the confidence you usually had when you were coding at 3 AM in a secure, pilot-free lab—where the only judgment you faced was from coffee cups and the occasional system error.

As you reached the podium, you forced what you hoped was a composed smile. “Uh… hi, nice to meet you all.”

Solid. Real professional.

You glanced up just long enough to take in the mix of expressions in the room—some mildly interested, some unreadable, and one particular moustached pilot who still had the faintest trace of amusement on his face.

Nope. Not looking at him.

You exhaled slowly, centering yourself. Stay focused. Stay professional. You weren’t just here because of Ethera—you were Ethera. The only one who truly understood it. The only one who could execute this mission.

With another tap on your tablet, the slide shifted to a blacked-out, redacted briefing—only the necessary information was visible. A sleek 3D-rendered model of the enemy satellite appeared on the screen, rotating slowly. Most of its details were blurred or omitted entirely.

“This is Blackstar, a highly classified enemy satellite that has been operating in a low-Earth orbit over restricted airspace.” Your voice remained even, and steady, but the weight of what you were revealing sent a shiver down your spine. “Its existence has remained off the radar—literally and figuratively—until recently, when intelligence confirmed that it has been intercepting our encrypted communications, rerouting information, altering intelligence, and in some cases—fabricating entire communications.”

Someone exhaled sharply. Another shifted in their seat.

“So they’re feeding us bad intel?” one of them with big glasses and blonde hair asked, voice sceptical but sharp.

“That’s the theory,” you confirmed. “And given how quickly our ops have been compromised recently, it’s working.”

You tapped again, shifting to the next slide. The silent infiltration diagram appeared—an intricate web of glowing red lines showing Etherea’s integration process, slowly wrapping around the satellite’s systems like a virus embedding itself into a host.

“This is where Ethera comes in,” you said, shifting to a slide that displayed a cascading string of code, flickering across the screen. “Unlike traditional cyberweapons, Ethera doesn’t just break into a system. It integrates—restructuring security protocols as if it was always meant to be there. It’s undetectable, untraceable, and once inside, it grants us complete control of the Blackstar and won’t even register it as a breach.”

“So we’re not just hacking it," The only female pilot of the team said, arms crossed as she studied the data. “We’re hijacking it.”

“Exactly,” You nodded with a grin.

You switched to the next slide—a detailed radar map displaying the satellite’s location over international waters.

“This is the target area,” you continued after a deep breath. “It’s flying low-altitude reconnaissance patterns, which means it’s using ground relays for some of its communication. That gives us a small window to infiltrate and shut it down.”

The next slide appeared—a pair of unidentified fighter aircraft, patrolling the vicinity.

“And this is the problem,” you said grimly. “This satellite isn’t unguarded.”

A murmur rippled through the room as the pilots took in the fifth-generation stealth fighters displayed on the screen.

“We don’t know who they belong to,” you admitted. “What we do know is that they’re operating with highly classified tech—possibly experimental—and have been seen running defence patterns around the satellite’s flight path.”

Cyclone stepped forward then, arms crossed, his voice sharp and authoritative. “Which means your job is twofold. You will escort Dr L/N’s aircraft to the infiltration zone, ensuring Ethera is successfully deployed. If we are engaged, your priority remains protecting the package and ensuring a safe return.”

Oh, fantastic, you could not only feel your heartbeat in your toes, you were now officially the package.

You cleared your throat, tapping the screen again. Ethera’s interface expanded, displaying a cascade of sleek code.

“Once I’m in range,” you continued, “Ethera will lock onto the satellite’s frequency and begin infiltration. From that point, it’ll take approximately fifty-eight seconds to bypass security and assume control."

Silence settled over the room like a thick cloud, the weight of their stares pressing down on you. You could feel them analyzing, calculating, probably questioning who in their right mind thought putting you—a hacker, a tech specialist, someone whose idea of adrenaline was passing cars on the highway—into a fighter jet was a good idea.

Finally, one of the pilots—tall, broad-shouldered, blonde, and very clearly one of the cocky ones—tilted his head, arms crossed over his chest in a way that screamed too much confidence.

“So, let me get this straight.” His voice was smooth, and confident, with just the right amount of teasing. “You, Doctor—our very classified, very important tech specialist—have to be in the air, in a plane, during a mission that has a high probability of turning into a dogfight… just so you can press a button?”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of being airborne.

“Well…” You gulped, very much aware of how absolutely insane this sounded when put like that. “It’s… more than just that, but, yeah, essentially.”

A slow grin spread across his face, far too entertained by your predicament.

“Oh,” he drawled, “this is gonna be fun.”

Before you could fully process how much you already hated this, Cyclone—who had been watching the exchange with his signature unamused glare—stepped forward, cutting through the tension with his sharp, no-nonsense voice.

“This is a classified operation,” he stated, sharp and authoritative. “Not a joyride.”

The blonde’s smirk faded slightly as he straightened, and the rest of the pilots quickly fell in line.

Silence lingered for a moment longer before Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson let out a slow breath and straightened. His sharp gaze swept over the room before he nodded once.

“All right. That’s enough.” His tone was firm, the kind that left no room for argument. “We’ve got work to do. The mission will take place in a few weeks' time, once we’ve run full assessments, completed necessary preparations, and designated a lead for this operation.”

There was a slight shift in the room. Some of the pilots exchanged glances, the weight of the upcoming mission finally settling in. Others, mainly the cocky ones, looked as though they were already imagining themselves in the cockpit.

“Dismissed,” Cyclone finished.

The pilots stood, murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out of the room, the blonde one still wearing a smug grin as he passed you making you frown and turn away, your gaze then briefly met the eyes of the moustached pilot.

You hadn’t meant to look, but the moment your eyes connected, something flickered in his expression. Amusement? Curiosity? You weren’t sure, and frankly, you didn’t want to know.

So you did the only logical thing and immediately looked away and turned to gather your things. You needed to get out of here, to find some space to breathe before your brain short-circuited from stress—

“Doctor, Stay for a moment.”

You tightened your grip on your tablet and turned back to Cyclone, who was watching you with that unreadable, vaguely disapproving expression that all high-ranking officers seemed to have perfected. “Uh… yes, sir?”

Once the last pilot was out the door, Cyclone exhaled sharply and crossed his arms.

“You realize,” he said, “that you’re going to have to actually fly, correct?”

You swallowed. “I—well, technically, I’ll just be a passenger.”

His stare didn’t waver.

“Doctor,” he said, tone flat, “I’ve read your file. I know you requested to be driven here instead of taking a military transport plane. You also took a ferry across the bay instead of a helicopter. And I know that you chose to work remotely for three years to avoid getting on a plane.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “That… could mean anything.”

“It means you do not like flying, am I correct?”

Your fingers tightened around the tablet as you tried to find a way—any way—out of this. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t need to fly the plane. I just need to be in it long enough to deploy Ethera—”

Cyclone cut you off with a sharp look. “And what happens if something goes wrong, Doctor? If the aircraft takes damage? If you have to eject mid-flight? If you lose comms and have to rely on emergency protocols?”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting at the very thought of ejecting from a jet.

Cyclone sighed, rubbing his temple as if this entire conversation was giving him a migraine. “We cannot afford to have you panicking mid-mission. If this is going to work, you need to be prepared. That’s why, starting next week you will train with the pilots on aerial procedures and undergoing mandatory training in our flight simulation program.”

Your stomach dropped. “I—wait, what? That’s not necessary—”

“It’s absolutely necessary,” Cyclone cut in, his tone sharp. “If you can’t handle a simulated flight, you become a liability—not just to yourself, but to the pilots escorting you. And in case I need to remind you, Doctor, this mission is classified at the highest level. If you panic mid-air, it won’t just be your life at risk. It’ll be theirs. And it’ll be national security at stake.”

You inhaled sharply. No pressure. None at all.

Cyclone watched you for a moment before speaking again, his tone slightly softer but still firm. “You’re the only one who can do this, Doctor. That means you need to be ready.”

You exhaled slowly, pressing your lips together before nodding stiffly. “Understood, sir.”

Cyclone gave a small nod of approval. “Good. Dismissed.”

You turned and walked out, shoulders tense, fully aware that in three days' time, you were going to be strapped into a high-speed, fighter jet. And knowing your luck?

You were definitely going to puke.

Part 2???

[technovillain]

my d.e. fanskills set

these are based on my own personality. so just allow me to be nerdy and vaguely vulnerable for a second.

INTELLECT

SCAFFOLD: call back to past solutions to problems. You are a seasoned professional who can make a Venn diagram of any two situations. This is always appropriate. Cool for: Architects, Think-Tankers, Technical Support

IDEOLOGY: apply your truths. Bring those Philosophy 101 facts to the forefront and show everyone you know how the system works. Fuck the man. Fight the power. Cool for: Soapboxers, Revolutionaries, Activists

REFERENCE: recall previous facts and information you have stored in your head. Cool for: Scholars, Expert Witnesses, Archivists

THREAD: tie unrelated things together to form new concepts or truths. Easily led astray by distraction. Cool for: Conspiracists, Investigators, Crossword Champions

RACONTEUR: tell a story, be it true or false. Is the web you weave convincing? More importantly, does it baffle and dazzle the mind? Cool for: Authors, Compulsive Liars, Dungeon Masters

EVERGREEN: your childlike, everlasting hunger to learn more, and to learn everything. A potted plant frustrated by its root space. Cool for: Finger-Painters, Those Who Pine, Renaissance Men

PSYCHE

APRÉS MOI: look forward to the consequences of the future. See yourself return to the clay and find what remains. Cool for: Dark Poets, Forensic Scientists, Prognosticators

MOTLEY: a fool from a fantasy world. Thinks nothing of the mortal realm and encourages escapism through imagination. Cool for: Spiraling Entertainers, the Absent-Minded, Nincompoops

SOLICITUDE: show compassion and understanding to those around you. You've been there before, reassure them. Cool for: Village Elders, Veterinarians, the Lonely

MATRYOSHKA: connect with versions of yourself long gone. Different names, the shunned, the dearly missed, hold court with them all. Cool for: Introspects, Therapists, Those with Identity Disorders

L'APPEL DU VIDE: think of all the ways it could go wrong. Usually unnecessary and distressing, occasionally enlightening. Occasionally allows you to get into the mindset of a lunatic. Cool for: People on the Edge, Paranoiacs, Health & Safety Inspectors

BREECHES: you're a big boy, you're a grown up, these are facts that you can believe all the time. People take you seriously. You are confident. Cool for: Fragile Egos, Self-Proclaimed Big Boys, Younger Siblings

PHYSIQUE

GUTS: something is stirring in your stomach. Can you handle it? Cool for: Daredevils, the Honest, Dumpster-Divers

SWIVEL: scope out the room. Locate danger and emergency exits. Trust no one. You aren't paranoid, you're just being more cautious than everyone else. Cool for: Bodyguards, Runaways & Fugitives, Petty Criminals

FLOODGATES: Hold it in. Don't cry, don't emote, don't let them know what you're thinking. Cool for: Feeling-Bottlers, Chronic Tough-Guys, Judiciaries

MULTI-TOOL: be resourceful with your tools. Use everything for multiple purposes, get all the juice out of every fruit in your basket. Cool for: The Frugal, Those Who Hate Doing the Dishes, Tailors

ITCH: encompasses most primal desires. Destruction, feasting, sexual gratification, violence. Cool for: Vandals, Hedonists, Party Animals

VIGOR: the overall state of your immune system and physical health. Your body is a well oiled machine. Cool for: Health Nuts, Olympians, Hypochondriacs

MOTORICS

FLOAT: sneak around, light as a feather. Leave the environment undisturbed. You are a gentle breeze. Cool for: Jewel Thieves, Eavesdroppers, the Forgotten

IGNITION: the adrenaline-fed movements of a maniac. How scared are you? How badly do you want to run away? Cool for: Prey Animals, the Guilty, Cowards

FLUIDITY: loosen your jaw and unclench your fists. You're in control of the situation, and none of this will matter a year from now. Cool for: Yogis, Enlightened Monks, Trusted Leaders

PANACHE: move your body in all the right ways. You are unthinkingly perfect at knowing where to put your hands and feet. Cool for: Masters of Charisma, Dancers, Impressive Show-Offs

CROSSHAIRS: make precise and accurate motions with your body and the tools that you wield. Cool for: Court Stenographers, Sharpshooters, Sign Interpreters

BRUNT: bear a heavy load. You don't need any help with this. Your muscles and joints are forged of steel. Cool for: Heroes of the Working Class, Shot-Putters, Powerlifters

[nizhspo]

genre: haikyuu imagine, slight smut

pairing: kei tsukishima x fem!reader

summary: fast furious inspired but i never watched the movie.

you swore you were done with this shit.

racing.

engines snarling like wild things, streets lit with flickering LEDs and cigarette lighters, bets barked into thick night air.

you’d lived enough of it to know what came next. the high, the crash, the long silence afterward.

your dad died on the track.

not a metaphor. not some quiet decay of spirit.

a real crash. metal screaming. fuel in flames.

he flipped doing 110 trying to shave milliseconds, the whole town betting on him to win.

you found out later he’d bet everything he had. everything you had. your college fund. your mom’s savings. her wedding ring.

gone. all of it, before the second lap.

your mom didn’t cry when they told her. just shut the garage door and left it locked for a year.

then, just when she started to breathe again, you nearly died too.

a night run. stupid impulse. someone else’s car, someone else’s ego. a curve taken too fast, and then nothing but noise, nothing but pain.

you woke up with a fractured rib, road rash down your hip, and a jagged scar across your side that still tugs when you stretch.

your mom cried then. harder than at the funeral.

held your hand like it was the last thing she had left and said, “i can’t do this again.”

so you quit.

pulled the tarp over baby blue. tried to forget the way it felt to fly.

…

you were stocking vending machines at your part-time job when you met him.

it was late, past midnight, the parking lot humid, the hum of cicadas louder than the overhead lights.

you’d clocked out with a sour attitude and sticky palms, uniform shirt tied around your waist, walking toward your busted civic when you saw him.

tall. lean. sharp lines.

leaning against a yellow 350Z, aggressive and spotless, parked two slots down from your car.

not looking at you — looking at her.

baby blue.

your hood was popped, half her engine exposed. you’d checked the coolant before your shift and forgot to close it.

he didn’t even flinch as you approached, just tilted his head at the sight of you.

“didn’t think she’d still run.”

you squinted. “excuse me?”

he nodded at the chipped paint along the fender, the mismatched spoiler — all scars you remembered helping your dad patch.

“baby blue. i remember her. your dad used to open her up on third and ash, right?”

your jaw tensed. “she doesn’t race anymore.”

he looked back at her, thoughtful. “shame. waste of good blood.”

you frowned. “the hell does that mean?”

he finally looked at you.

and when his eyes hit yours, narrow, amber, sharp as sin, it was like being sized up and stripped bare at the same time.

“you were better than him,” he said, simple. “cleaner. smarter. faster.”

you felt your throat close up. “don’t talk about my dad.”

he held your gaze. didn’t blink. then: “race me.”

you laughed in his face. “fuck no.”

“i’ll pay for your tune-up. no strings. just race me.”

“i can’t afford a race.” you couldn’t afford to lose.

“don’t want your money,” he said. “i want the story.”

you stepped closer. “what’s your angle?”

his smirk was small and devastating.

“i want to see if the legend’s real.”

…

he dropped money on parts like he was buying gum.

coilovers, pads, an oil cooler. high-grade synthetic. a new clutch kit.

and then, to your surprise, he didn’t drop it off and vanish.

he came to your garage.

night after night. t-shirt rolled at the sleeves, hair pulled into a lazy tie, hands already dirty.

he worked quiet. efficient.

passed tools before you asked. understood baby blue’s rusted wiring like it was language.

“you really could’ve just paid someone,” you said once, yanking open baby blue’s rusted hood.

“where’s the fun in that?”

he knew your car like he built her himself.

and you hated how easy it was to fall into rhythm with him, passing tools, brushing hands, swapping stories without really talking about anything.

you also hated that it only took three nights before he had your legs around his waist.

you’d been underneath the chassis. tank top sticking to your back. grease on your stomach.

he leaned over to hand you a wrench and you’d caught a flash of his stomach under that black t-shirt, lean and pale and when you looked up — he was already watching you.

“you’re staring,” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

he crouched down. voice low. “yeah?”

you didn’t mean to say it.

“wash your hands first.”

but he did.

and the next thing you knew, your back was hitting the garage wall, mouth open under his, his fingers under your waistband, grease still smudging his neck.

he didn’t ask. just kissed you like he already had. like it was tradition.

mouth hot, unyielding. tongue piercing clinking against your teeth.

you tasted heat, dust, black coffee.

and when your back hit the hood of baby blue, you felt the metal rattle against your spine.

you gasped.

you let him lift you up, thighs hooked around his hips. his fingers pressed into your waist, teeth at your neck, hips rolling hard between your legs.

you didn’t stop him.

didn’t want to.

and after that, every night, it was the same.

you fixed the car.

he fucked you against it.

quiet. messy. stretched across her hood, bent over her door.

sometimes your hands shook from the engine. sometimes from him.

sometimes both.

your mom stopped checking in on you guys in the garage.

you didn’t stop going.

…

the night of the race, everything felt loud.

louder than it should’ve.

streetlights lit up the city like an altar.

your hands trembled as you pulled your gloves on. tsukishima leaned against his yellow Z, arms crossed, lips quirked.

“hope you’re not gonna go easy on me,” you said, brushing your thumb along your gearshift.

his gaze was molten. “never.”

he stepped closer and your breath hitched.

“but when i win…” his eyes dipped, slow, raking down your body and back up again. “…you owe me.”

you licked your lips. “what exactly do you want?”

he smirked. “i got a couple ideas.”

…

he won.

barely.

you pull up second, tires smoking, chest rising like you ran the whole way.

he’s already out of the car, eyes blown wide, golden under the lights.

you climb out, breathless.

don’t say anything at first.

he walks toward you. stops close. “you almost had me.”

you stare at him.

at the sweat on his collarbone, the way his forearm flexes when he wipes his mouth.

“how much did you bet?”

“enough.”

you shift, grimacing. “i’ll pay you. i just… not all at once. might take a few—”

“y/n, i don’t want your money.”

you blink. “then what do you want?”

his gaze dips. you feel it before he says anything, the weight of it on your skin.

“i think you know.”

you smile. slow. feel your fingers twitch to grab his jacket.

“garage?” you offer, voice low.

he tilts his head. “backseat.”

your breath catches.

you grab his wrist and pull him into the dark, and when his hands hit your waist again, you’re already unzipping your hoodie.

baby blue purrs behind you.

she knows what’s up.

[perplexedflower]

Connection

Fandom: Gravity Falls.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Stanford Pines x Female Reader.

Type: One shot.

Words: 3,830.

Summary: Stanford Pines is anything but used to romance, but when the young woman he has fallen for confesses her feelings to him, it feels to him as though they were destined to be together…

Chronology: Late Season 2.

~~~~~~~~~~

I felt a little dizzy as my body began to tremble, but after one slow, deep breath, I regained my composure and walked out of the attic. After having spent so long, so much time, so many days debating with myself, I had finally made up my mind: that day was the day I would dare approach Stanford and confess to him everything that weighed on my mind. At last.

I made my way down the staircase and up to the vending machine, alone in the room; that afternoon was bright and sunny, thankfully for me, as all the others were spending their time outside the shack. The last thing I wanted was for one of them to walk in on me confessing my love to Stanford, and the sheer thought of such a thing happening was enough to bring knots to my stomach.

Still standing in front of the vending machine, I input the code to the basement on the pad, a code only the Stan twins knew better than I did, a code I typed in every day, a code that had become so important to me.

Come on, [Y/N]... You can do it. I motivated myself through thought as I watched the secret door open. You've prepared yourself for this day, for this exact moment... You can do it.

With the vending machine now retracted, I took a deep breath once more, sensing my nervousness rise as my stomach truly began to ache, my heart beating faster in my chest than it had ever before. For the second time, I found myself faced with a flight of stairs: I walked down each step, one by one, until I arrived at the elevator. With a slightly trembling index finger, I pressed the button that led to the last floor, which was home to the now-broken portal. While I waited inside the elevator, I continuously repeated to myself the speech I had prepared, the speech I intended to give to Stanford. And the second the elevator stopped moving and the doors slowly opened, I knew my time had come.

Seated on his chair, Stanford was pacing back and forth between all corners of the room, whether it was his desk, shelves, or even the ground, promptly standing up to grab some of his tools off the floor before he sat right back down. For but a moment, it was clear he had not yet noticed I was present in the room with him, until I took a few steps forward in his direction: then, he instantly recognized the sound of my footsteps and finally turned around to me.

From the other end of the room, he showed me a warm smile that made my heart flutter.

"Good afternoon, [Y/N]." He said cheerfully while he brushed the dust off his clothes with his hands. "How are you feeling today? Good, I hope."

"Good afternoon, Ford." I said back to him as I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could. "I'm fine, yes, thank you for asking. And what about you?"

"I'm doing great." He answered, still smiling. "In fact, I'm doing very well."

"Really, how so?"

"Well, I can't quite yet tell you much about it, but my current research is coming along nicely, to say it all." He told me with delight.

"Oh, that's fantastic news!" I exclaimed enthusiastically.

I stared at Stanford in the eyes, pretending to be jolly, when my heart rate was in fact racing.

"Oh, but enough about all that." He said as he took a step toward me while gesturing his hands. "Tell me, [Y/N], why are you not outside? I would have expected to see you out there, enjoying such a sunny day."

"You're one to talk, you know?" I teased him with a light chuckle. "But, as for me... Well..."

The old ceiling lamp above our heads emanated a low light that mixed in orange and red, which faintly reflected against the lenses of Stanford's glasses, making them sparkle just slightly.

"You see, Ford..." I started, the volume of my voice diminishing with each word. "God, it's just so hard to say it..."

As my hands began to tremble and awkwardly twist their fingers, he took yet another step in my direction, which brought him right in front of me.

"[Y/N], are you sure everything's all right?" He asked me with concern while he rested a delicate hand on one of my shoulders. "Is something the matter?"

To avoid his gaze, I lowered my head and stared at the ground, at my feet, just in front of his.

"Ford... There's something I have to tell you." I finally managed to say. "It's... really important... to me. That's why I'm here and not outside with the others."

While I spoke, I simply could not resist the urge to look down at Stanford's hand, holding my shoulder in place with a firm grip, yet without too much pressure; and the longer I stared at it, the longer I felt his touch on me, the more I could sense my heart pounding in my chest. I could tell my cheeks were progressively turning pink as I allowed my eyes to wander, leaving his hand to trace up his arm, detailing the outline of his muscles through the sleeve of his coat.

It's undeniable that the 30 years Ford spent stuck in-between dimensions have toughened him up... by a lot. I thought to myself. He's told me before that back when he and Stanley were little, he would get pushed around by other kids, even bullied. Then, growing up into adulthood, as a scientist and researcher, he never quite had a muscular physique, unlike his twin brother. But now, I look at him... and I can't help but feel a sense of pride seeing the man he has become.

I quickly pulled myself out of my thoughts and diverted my eyes from his arm, then cleared my throat before I looked back up at his face.

"I have to tell you that... I'm really glad that Stanley made the right choice to save you and bring you back here... and that Mabel decided not to press that button." I told him with genuine affection. "Stanford, I like you, and—"

"Oh, how sweet of you, [Y/N]." He exclaimed with a smile as he interrupted me. "I know it may not always seem like it, but I'm actually truly happy to be back, to be here, beside you all, even Stanley... And that includes you, of course. I like you too, [Y/N]."

With a grin still displayed on his face, he leaned forward and moved his hand from my shoulder to my head: his palm tousled my hair, after which he started to walk back to his desk, assuming our conversation was over and that he could go back to his work.

"T-Thank you, Ford, but you don't get it—" I said with a sad smile while I shook my head slowly, my eyebrows furrowed. "I like you, Stanford... I love you."

It felt as though my words echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls, surrounding us wholly, resonating within our heads. He immediately stopped walking, his foot frozen in mid-air, and remained still, his back turned to me; although I could not see his face, I could feel mine growing hot with blush, an expression of conflicted emotions on my face.

"... Hum— You know what? Forget I said anything." I mumbled as I stared at his back. "I... don't know what came over me, but just— Ignore it... please..."

The more I tried to express myself properly, the longer I spent choosing my words, the more teardrops escaped my eyes, rolling down across my cheeks and ending their course on the ground.

"This... must sound like complete nonsense to you... I'm sure you're thinking I've lost my mind."

While I still stared at his back, still turned to me, Stanford still motionless, I took a blind step backward, then another.

"... I'm very sorry to have disturbed you, Stanford... You may resume your work, now."

The second I finished speaking, I promptly turned around and nervously pressed the button on the elevator: and as I stepped inside, I anxiously waited to hear him say something, anything, but he remained quiet. I pressed a second button, this time to order the elevator to go back up to the surface. After a second of silence that felt excruciatingly long, the two doors closed, and the moment the elevator started to move, I broke into tears.

I was still sobbing when, shortly after, I walked out of the elevator, climbing the secret stairs back up to arrive back into the room. I was too emotionally compromised to truly scan my surroundings, but I was still able to tell all the others were still busy, as the room was still empty.

I need... to be alone... I told myself. I need to find a place... somewhere, anywhere...

I knew the attic was out of the question, considering Dipper and Mabel could have very well been there, and so was the kitchen, given how much time Stanley spent in it; the only place that was left, the only place I could think of was the secret room Soos had discovered the other day, by pure accident. Once standing in front of the door, I gave it a soft push with my hand, too feeble to put any amount of strength into my movements. But as physically weak as I felt, I stepped inside the room without even an ounce of hesitation.

Once I was in, I closed the door behind me then took a look around the dim room, plunged into darkness, and, soon enough, my eyes spotted a couch: without a second thought, I made my way to it and sat down, bringing both of my legs onto the sofa. The temperature in the room was quite cold, which forced me to bury my face into the sweater I was wearing, a sweater Mabel had knitted for me. And as I sat in the dark, I let my tears flow, pouring out of my eyes like a river.

For a while, although I had no notion of how long it had been, I did not move from my spot, nor did I stop weeping, surrounded by my overwhelming thoughts in the midst of obscurity. That was, until I heard the door of the room open behind me, in such a slow and gentle manner it was almost inaudible.

Without sticking my head out of my sweater, I shook my head at the sound.

"I don't know who you are, but frankly, I don't care." I let out in-between two tears, my voice muffled. "Please... go away... I just need some time on my own..."

Despite my pitiful request, the person decided to walk in anyway, and I felt my heart twist into knots when I recognized the sound of their footsteps on the creaking floor, the sound of old, muddy boots. They continued, growing closer and closer to me, until they stopped, right beside me, and after but only a second, I felt his body sit down on the couch, just next to mine.

"[Y/N]... Please, listen." Stanford started in a tone so gentle it was almost a whisper. "You may think you've lost your mind, but you're far from it, trust me."

His voice and his words reached my ears and instantly enveloped me in a sensation of safety, of warmth, of comfort, and a part of me was already soothed, just listening to them, no matter how much I craved to be alone at that moment.

Though hesitantly, I slowly raised my head from my sweater, revealing the upper part of my face, though the rest was still concealed: and in an instant, my eyes were met with his, his gaze soft and affectionate.

"Because of... what you've told me, you see yourself as a freak... as some kind of monster. And you know this is something I can relate to, [Y/N]. I've had similar thoughts in the past, when I was a child, after other people would make fun of me for my weirdness, especially my polydactyly. But no matter how many times I got pushed around, I always— Well, almost always had my brother by my side, to remind me I should not be ashamed of who I am... Just like you have us."

Ever so gently, Stanford extended one of his hands to me, reaching down into my sweater to grab my chin between his thumb and index finger. And that one single gesture tore my heart in half.

I already know how all of this is going to end... Ford is going to comfort me, to try and make me feel better, but he's not going to bring up again my love declaration, he's going to ignore my feelings for him... He'd rather avoid mentioning it, finding it easier to pretend as if it never happened... and this tension between us would remain.

With my face still held by his hand, he stared deeply into my eyes, though it appeared his confidence was progressively fading away.

"[Y/N], I... I don't... quite know how to say this..."

His face turned pink as he broke eye contact with me, his eyes restless.

"I've never really... done this type of thing... ever, you see, so..."

But eventually, after looking for the right words for some time, he looked back into my eyes, this time with strong determination.

"I love you too, [Y/N]." He blurted out bashfully.

Upon hearing his words, my eyes opened wide and my heart stopped beating. I was already convinced my imagination had played a trick on me, unable to believe what Stanford had just said to be the truth.

"... This... is not something I thought I would say today, but I assure you that I mean it, no matter how unbelievable it may sound to you." He further confessed, his words heavy. "I've had feelings for you ever since the day I first made your acquaintance. I saw you for the first time and... found you... beautiful. I talked to you for the first time and thought your personality was wonderful. Then I saw how well you got along with my family, with Stanley and the kids, and... I felt something I had never really felt before."

He marked a pause, his voice slightly shaky and his face shifting from pink to red.

"... A-And, at first, I couldn't believe it was love, I put the blame on... on the fact that you simply had been the first woman my eyes landed on after 30 years outside of this dimension, but—... But soon enough, I had to be rational and face the truth... I understood I truly had fallen for you."

Although I kept quiet, I could very distinctively tell what was going through Stanford's mind, especially given the facial expressions he was switching between as he spoke.

"But I... I didn't say anything." He continued, lowering his eyes to avoid mine. "I didn't know how to properly apprehend these feelings, how to confess them to you... For a man my age, all of this shouldn't be a problem, but... well, my experience is close to none. I understand your own hesitation regarding your feelings came from our age gap, and, quite frankly, so did mine. I just couldn't find a way to let you know about mine without coming across as a pervert... So I decided to bottle it all up."

After his last sentence, silence reigned for a moment, and I understood his speech had finally come to an end; the two of us were now staring straight at each other, our gazes locked on, neither of us saying a word. Only then did Stanford remember he was still holding my chin, and only then did he realize his speech had gone on for much longer than he himself had intended, judging by the look on his face. His eyes suddenly opened wide, his cheeks still buried under a thick layer of blush as he let go of my face, visibly embarrassed.

"I-I'm sorry, [Y/N]— I said too much, didn't I?" He asked me, seemingly shameful. "I must have spoken for too long— You said you wanted to be left alone, so... I'll be going, now—"

He hurriedly stood up from the sofa as he nervously pushed his glasses on his nose. He promptly made his way to the door of the room, but before I could let him get too far away from me, I extended an arm toward him and reached for the bottom of his coat: as he felt my hand tug at the fabric, he turned back around and looked at me, at the single tear rolling down my cheek.

"Stay." I said in a whisper. "... Please."

Stanford's eyes remained on me, on my face, which was now begging for his presence, and he could feel it; all while staring down at me, he walked back to the couch and sat back down, this time even closer to me, close enough to wrap his arms around my body and bring it down against his as he lay back slightly. His embrace felt warm and secure, yet so overwhelming as well. With my face nestled in the crook of his neck, I closed my eyes and took multiple deep breaths, his natural scent soothing me further with each passing second.

As I listened to the sound of his heart beating faster in his chest, I felt one of his hands rub my back gently, shortly followed by a kiss he left on the crown of my head. Both of us found peace and tranquility within that moment, that moment of serenity and quietness; but the silence did not last for long, as I let out a heavy sigh.

"... I'm sorry, Ford." I said, my voice slightly muffled against his skin.

"What for?" He kindly asked while looking down at me.

"For... all of this. For having waited all this time to let you know how I feel, and for having made you repress your own feelings. Because of me... we've wasted so much time we could have spent... this way."

Stanford chuckled, a genuine laugh that made my heart skip a beat and turned the tips of my ears red.

"You don't need to apologize for such things, [Y/N]." He stated as he brought his hands down on my shoulders.

With slow and gentle care, he pulled me out of his embrace, just slightly, just enough so that he could look down at me, so that our faces could meet, so that he could show me his bright smile.

"You're not responsible for any of this, and if we follow your way of thinking, logic would have it I need to apologize too. But neither of us is at fault, here. So, please, don't burden yourself with guilt."

With a shy smile, I closed my eyes and nodded. When I opened them again, I was still faced with his loving smile, with his affectionate gaze; and, after but a brief moment of uncertainty and indecision, I slowly brought my hand up to his face and gently rested my palm on his cheek, which led to the blush on his cheeks intensifying. As my fingers drifted down along his jaw and then his neck, I tilted my head a little.

I've... never really been this close to Ford before... It might take some getting used to... But I get the feeling that won't be an issue.

Our eyes gazed deeply into one another as my other hand found its way to his torso, my palm slowly rising and falling along his heaving chest, along the rhythm of his heartbeat. One of his hands left my shoulders to hold my waist, while the other held the nape of my neck, his fingers delicately running through my hair. Our faces grew closer to each other, the air around us filled with anticipation and excitement, until we both tilted our heads and closed our eyes: our lips met and our embrace grew tighter, finally sharing together this special moment we had waited so long to see happen.

My hand on his neck moved to the collar of his sweater, which I grabbed passionately while I felt Stanford furrow his eyebrows, his lips sighing against mine, cherishing the moment as he held me against his body. But the moment inevitably came to an end when we both pulled away, slightly out of breath, slightly panting, in an atmosphere that had all of a sudden become heavy. The two of us were still nervous, even now that we had kissed, and I could tell Stanford was feeling particularly awkward: with a soft smile, I tugged at his sweater and leaned forward to leave one more kiss on his lips, catching him off-guard. After I pulled away, I stared into his wide-open eyes with love as I caressed his blushing cheek.

"That was wonderful, Ford." I told him enthusiastically in a reassuring tone.

While still smiling, I readjusted his glasses on his nose a little better, seeing as they had slightly slipped down during our kiss.

"For a man in his 60s who's barely ever kissed a woman before, you're quite a good kisser." I added, teasing him playfully.

My compliment made him chuckle, somewhat awkwardly but mostly with genuine affection.

"Well... Thank you, [Y/N]." He said while blushing. "You're... really good yourself."

My body imitated his and I felt the redness on my face intensify as I giggled lightly. Both of his hands traveled back down around my waist, which he grabbed firmly, though without applying too much pressure.

"Well... The afternoon is far from over, so why don't you and I go back to the basement?" He suggested happily, visibly excited at the idea of keeping this conversation going elsewhere. "I'll show you a glimpse of what I've been working on these past few days."

"I like the sound of that." I replied just as happily.

With the help of my hips, his hands moved my body to the side, freeing his so that he could stand up from the couch: then, as he stared down into my eyes, he opened the palm of his hand to me.

"Then, let's get back to work... Shall we, sweetheart?"

I felt my pulse accelerate greatly upon hearing him call me by such a pet name, but I did my best to keep my composure as I nodded and put my palm in his.

Hand in hand, Stanford and I walked out of the room and headed to the basement, where we spent the rest of the day together, exchanging more than just words, until the sun went down and the moon went up.

[j-eryewrites]

Left Behind When We Are In Need

Part Seven of A Sinner's Redemption

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous | Next

Word Count: ~21.k

Author's Note: This chapter covers some pretty dark topics. Most of the events happen in canon, but I will still say it. Do not read this chapter if dark themes such as SA trigger you. I have put discretions above the sections containing these triggers to warn you again. I am not in charge and do not control the media you consume. Please read at your own risk. That being said, enjoy this extremely angsty and dark chapter.

*Note: I very briefly edited it, and it has not been beta read.

Trigger Warnings: Canon typical violence, gore, gun violence, descriptions of injuries, attempted SA, mentions of death, descriptions of death, depressive thoughts, fire, cults/religion, mentions cannibalism, cursing/language, creepy men, mentions of pedophilia

꧁_꧂

Numb, that's all Piper felt as she sat on the porch. The chill morning light kissed her skin, and the birds sang their good morning, yet Piper couldn't feel anything. She couldn't hear the sweet song or sense the loving caress of the sunbeams. She no longer felt cold, and most of all, she was no longer sick.

She was well aware of how illness worked. It was human to contract illness, but Piper didn't feel human. She was alive and breathing, for that she was sure. However, after the scars left by Joel's words and the wounds that reopened, Piper was in pain. Sure, humans felt pain, but not like this, Not pain that lasts for 17 years. Not a pain that only increases with each breath. Sinking deeper into the frozen porch, Piper clenched her fists. No, the pain she felt wasn't human. It was a message calling out to her, a consequence, and a promise. It was a promise of death. She'd been right when she told Joel. Piper was only made to kill, and she only knew how to kill. She was a killing machine, built to survive and destroy. She wasn't human. She wasn't sure she'd ever been one at all. Maybe once, she could have been through the love she held for her sister, but it was revealed to Piper as she lay bleeding in the snow that maybe Ellie didn't want her love. Maybe Ellie was just as hurt and angry as she was, and no amount of love would change that.

Deep in her depressive derailing, Piper could not hear the crunching of the freshly fallen snow underneath Tommy's feet as he crept away from his home, family, and life to the house across the street.

A huff of air fogged Tommy's view as he stilled, noticing the statue of Piper on the porch. Her cheeks burned a bright red underneath the wood-brown knit beanie atop her head. Where tuffs of long dark hair used to lay were now pinkened, freckled skin. Around her cheeks and eyes, dark purple and blue shades merged as if a child mixed watercolor paints together. Tommy frowned at the sight, taking care to slowly approach.

"How long have you been out here?" Tommy asked her once he reached the front steps.

Piper shrugged and stood up, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. The sound of Tommy knocking on the front door was drowned out by Piper's heavy steps as she descended the stairs and began her trek in the snow.

"Hey, wait," Tommy called out to Piper. Suddenly, the door flung open and slammed shut, revealing Ellie. Ellie hopped down and trickled after her sister, leaving a wide gap between the two. For a moment, Tommy could only stand and stare before he realized he was supposed to follow the girls and lead them.

The walk to the stables seemed longer than Tommy remembered it being. With how fast the girls were walking, he was sure he'd get there faster than he thought. Yet the silence and grim expression of the girls made the trek over exponentially longer. The cold bitterness of the winter's day slightly softened as they walked into the stables.

Hay and straw decorated the floor, and various saddles, ropes, and grooming tools hung along the wall. Tommy motioned for the girls to follow as he led them down the stables. Arriving at the last few stables, Tommy stopped and sighed, stepping back.

A scowl formed on the girls' faces upon seeing what stood inside the stables.

"You came here to say goodbye or something?" Ellie spat.

"No," Joel replied as he saddled up the horse. "I came here to steal one of these horses, probably two since there's three of us, and go."

"I woulda gave you 'em," Tommy told Joel.

"I know," Joel nodded.

"Anyway…," Joel turned to the girls. "…that was 30 minutes ago, and I guess… you two deserve a choice. I still think you'd be better off with Tommy…"

"Let's go," Ellie declared and stepped into the stable.

"Okay." Joel stepped aside and looked at Piper. "Piper?"

Biting her lip, she stared at Joel. A wave of emotions crashed over her. Joel was standing in front of her, saying he'd stay. The deeper his words sank in, the more her nerves began to work. She began to feel the sharp cold that stained her cheeks and clung to her head. The soreness of the bruises Ellie had left behind struck deep within her muscles. Piper began to feel again.

With her silence, Joel stepped forward. The light trickling through the wooden planks of the stables illuminated the bruises and minor cuts from Piper's hasty haircut. Suddenly, Joel's eyes became watery, and his heart sank deep into the pits of his guilt. How long had those bruises been there? Why didn't he see them? How could he have let it happen?

After a few quiet moments, acceptance filled Piper's being, and she nodded, unsure if her words would fail her. She was glad Joel stayed, but the night before had left its mark and made her bleed. A wound like that is not so easily forgotten or forgiven.

Joel couldn't help the soft smile that melted onto his face. Waving his hand, he led Piper into the other stall where the horse he prepared earlier was ready to ride.

"You good to ride on your own? Hard to fight three people on a horse," Joel explained. Piper nodded before placing her foot in the staddle and lifting herself onto the back of the steed.

"Hold onto both," Joel instructed, gently taking Piper's hands. Mm-hmm," he hummed when they were on the lead. Once she was on the horse, Joel led the creature out of the stall. Then he got Ellie onto the horse before turning to Tommy.

"General direction?" He asked Tommy.

"Head southeast till you hit I-25. It's right off the interstate. Shouldn't be hard to miss." The crease between Tommy's eyebrows deepened, and he drew his brother in for a hug. Patting his shoulder, Tommy pulled back. There's a place for you here… The three of you," he explained with as much sincerity as he could muster.

Joel glanced back at his girls. They were his girls. It was a fact he could no longer deny. "Countin' on it." Joel pointed to the rifle hanging over Tommy's arm. "Can I borrow that?"

Tommy followed his brother's finger and nodded. "Yeah."

"'Cause Maria took mine, you know?" Joel continued to persuade.

Chuckling, Tommy handed him the gun. "I already said yes, Joel." After a pause, he continued. "Adios, big brother."

"Adios," Joel said with tears in his eyes. He had found his brother. Tommy was family, but after last night, he realized. The girls, Ellie and Piper, were family too. They were his girls, and he couldn't leave them. While he trusted Tommy with his life, he knew he couldn't bear the thought of not being there for them if anything had happened. Maybe he could have done something to save them if he had just been there. So, as he led the horses out of the settlement, he didn't feel as sad as he thought he'd be saying farewell to his beloved brother. After all, he had found his girls. He had his family.

꧁_꧂

Tommy said they had a week's journey to the university, yet Joel wished the days were longer. For the first two days, as they rode, he had successfully taught the girls, mainly Ellie, how to whistle. The first consisted of the actual whistle, and the second was about whistling a tune.

Ellie was more than eager to learn after all her failed attempts over the months they had been together. On the other hand, Piper was much more reluctant about anything with Joel.

He had tried to ask about her hair after she removed her hat the first night, but he was met with a grunt in response. Then he wanted to help her pack her sleeping gear in the morning while she was busy with other things, only to watch her repack it all. He knew he screwed things up when he left her broken on the porch that night. He knew his words had cut deep, but he felt it was more than just him.

The bruises garnishing her face only seemed to worsen in color as the days went on. They seemed to be an uncomfortable topic for the girls, with flashes of guilt appearing in Ellie's eyes every time she glanced at her sister. However, what Joel thought was the worst of all was the silence. Ellie still talked to him and made jokes here and there. Piper never spoke. Words hadn't trickled from her mouth since that night. Not even a word was spoken between the two sisters.

Today, Joel decided to teach the girls how to hunt. Well, it was more of a shooting lesson, but the knowledge was still applicable to hunting. Piper decided on a more observational approach as she sat in the snow near Joel and Ellie.

Returning his gaze to Ellie, Joel adjusted her hands and nodded for her to shoot. A thundering wave of gunshots echoed over the hills. After the third shot, Ellie sighed and loosened her grip on the gun.

"Wide right," Joel noted as he pulled the binoculars from his eyes. "You're flinchin'."

"The target's too small," Ellie complained.

"I made it bigger than I should've." Joel instructed, "Eject the cartridge."

Ellie grumbled as she did as Joel told her. "…And I am not flinching."

Joel hummed, "Mm-hmm."

"The rifle just sucks," Ellie said upon finishing the task.

Taking the gun back, Joel peered over at Piper, "Why don't you take a break and let your sister try?"

"No thanks, I already know I wouldn't miss," Piper declared confidently, leaning back into her hands.

For a moment, Joel's eyes widened. She had spoken to him. "If you're so sure, why don't you show us?" Joel teased in an attempt to have more interaction.

Piper rolled her eyes and sank deeper into her hands before pushing off and reaching for the gun. Joel passed the weapon to her without a word, and she raised it to fire. Ellie peered over as Piper's eyes narrowed and her breath stilled. Her finger pinched back on the trigger. The gun fired. The glass didn't break. Piper pulled back in confusion as Joel chuckled.

"Did she miss?" Ellie yanked the binoculars out of Joel's hand and zoned in on the target. "You missed!" she gasped before pointing at her sister. "Piper missed!"

Piper grumbled and shoved the gun to the ground. "Ellie's right. The rifle's fucked up."

Joel bit his lip from laughing more. He stuck out his hand and motioned for the gun. "Okay, give it,'" he sighed. "It doesn't aim right. Mm-hmm. You'll see." He raised the rifle into position. "A deep breath in, slow breath out,' he explained, earning a leer from Ellie. "You squeeze the trigger like you love it. Mm. Gentle… steady… nice and slow."

"You gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?" Ellie grumbled as she peered through the binoculars. Joel smirked and prepared to fire.

"It isn't gonna work. It doesn't aim right," Piper mumbled beside him.

Joel pulled back the trigger and beamed as he heard Ellie curse, "You dіck."

Piper only huffed and bit her lip. It didn't matter that Joel had hit the target. She had missed. She hadn't missed in years, not since that night. Not since she first killed a man. She wasn't allowed to miss. She couldn't miss. Yet, here she was. Her shot had missed the target. Peering over at triumphant Joel, Piper understood why. Even if he had hurt her and left her on the cold winter night, she was safe with Joel. Joel became home after months with him on the road, fighting for their lives. Joel became family. Frowning, she continued to grumble; even if Joel was family, he had to work to apologize. He had fucked up, and he wasn't going to get away so easily.

After Joel decided his bragging rights had been overused, he told the girls to pack it up and return on the horses. As Ellie begrudgingly trudged away, Joel called out to Piper.

She turned her head to look at him. "What?" She asked with hands in the pockets of her orange coat.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Joel pulled out a small book, brushing off some lint before handing it to her.

Piper hesitantly took it. She flipped it over and read the cover. It was white and frayed along the edges, as paper does with time. " Tiny First Aid Guide," she read. She raised it with confusion on her face.

Joel stood up and brushed the snow off his pants. "I found it in the room I stayed in. No one was using it. I thought you might like it, so you can start saving someone and not, you know…," he awkwardly smiled.

Piper felt blood rush to her face, and a soft, grateful smile appeared. With her fingers, she traced over the cover. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, Joel." Joel nodded in response and watched Piper walk over to her horse, holding the book tightly. Her head looked down as her brown eyes quickly scoured over its contents. With each word absorbed into her brain, Piper began to forgive Joel a bit more.

꧁_꧂

Question after question followed as Joel, Ellie, and Piper rode along. Ellie's curiosity bubbled to the surface once she realized Joel was willing to answer her questions. Piper, however, hummed along, listening as she directed her horse after Joel.

"So the way they ran things in Jackson was how things used to be?" Ellie wondered, remembering every aspect of Jackson: the Christmas tree, the movie, the communal relationship, the homes, etc.

"No," Joel smiled as he shook his head. "The country was too big for that. Back then, there were two main ways of lookin' at things. Some people wanted to own everything."

"Mm-hmm," Ellie nodded, adjusting her grip to hold Joel tighter.

"And some people didn't want anyone to own anything at all," Joel continued.

"Which one were you?" Ellie asked. She leaned over to look at Joel, trying not to fall over.

"Neither. I just did my job." Joel shrugged and glanced behind, noticing Piper's sudden interest in her book. She'd been reading it as she rode. The horse she sat on seemed to understand that it needed to follow Joel, allowing her the time to scan the pages of her first aid guidebook. He turned back around, proud of himself for the gift.

"Which was…," Ellie trailed off as her brain recalled her previous conversations with Joel. "Building?"

"That's right," Joel acknowledged. "Houses, stores, that kinda thing. We were called contractors."

Ellie smiled and cleared her throat. Deeply, she said, "The Contractor," as if it was a superhero name from one of her comic books. "That's pretty cool."

"Yeah. We were cool," Joel shrugged. "Everybody loved contractors."

"Nice," Ellie hummed.

The conversations continued one after the other. In one conversation, Ellie chose to ask about movies and television, questioning which ones were Joel's favorite. This led them down the path of football. Joel claimed he didn't watch much TV except for the Sunday games.

Ellie's brows pinched together as she tried to make sense of the game. "Okay, so if you mess up your fourth down, then you give the ball to the other team?"

Joel nodded. "Right. It's called a turnover."

"Turnover," Ellie repeated. "But if you make it to 10 yards, then you're back to first down?"

"Yep."

"So," Ellie concluded. "Basically, just moving in one direction."

"Basically…," Joel agreed. "But violent."

"Oh, well," Ellie sarcastically said. "There's that."

Up ahead stood the I25 sign. Joel glanced around, checking if Piper was still following. Stopping his horse, he announced, "Well, how 'bout that? Made it in five days. Easy days."

"I don't know what Tommy was so afraid of," Ellie noted.

"Still time to find out," Piper mumbled as she continued to walk her horse past Joel and Ellie.

"Still time to find out," Ellie mimicked.

The road went on for what seemed like forever. Snow covered the ground, but small tufts of dried grass poked out here and there. In the distance, stood tall mountains encasing a city that grew larger and larger the longer the road. As they entered the city, the snow traded for dead leaves and forgotten cars. Rusted signs led them to the university campus.

"Home of the Big Horns," Ellie read as they approached the sign. "What does that mean?"

"Team mascot," Joel explained. "It's a kind of sheep."

"Oh, see?" Ellie playfully nudged Joel's side. "One step closer to your dream."

"Don't see any Fireflies, though," Piper noted, stopping her horse beside Joel and Ellie's.

"They're probably in the middle," Joel said. "Safer."

"Uh-huh," Piper replied. "Sure."

"This way," Joel nudged his horse and led them down the road deeper into the campus.

"So these places…," Ellie began as the towering brick buildings surrounded them. "People would live here and, like, what? Go to classes and stuff?"

"Yup."

"Even though they were adults," Ellie questioned.

"Sort of adults," Joel explained. "I think it was just as much about partying and findin' themselves as anythin' else. Figuring out what they wanted to do with their lives."

"What they wanted to do with their lives," Ellie whispered before chuckling, remembering Joel's dream of a sheep ranch.

"So I've been thinkin'," Joel began.

"Mm-hmm?" Ellie hummed.

"I don't want a sheep ranch, actually." Ellie peered at Joel. Meanwhile, Piper stole a quick peek away from her book. "I mean, if the deal is I can do anything?"

"That's the deal," Piper recalled.

"Well… when I was a kid," Joel said, "I wanted to be a singer."

Ellie was unsure what she expected Joel to say, but it sure wasn't to sing. Her grip on Joel loosened as a bout of laughter overcame her.

"Shut up," Joel's cheeks flushed red. "Why is that funny?"He grumbled.

Finding a momentary pause in her giggles, Ellie swatted his arm. "You gotta sing something now."

"No," Joel shook his head.

"Come on, man. I'm not gonna laugh," Ellie promised. "Any singing will be better than Pipers."

Piper whirled around and sent Ellie a glare, who grinned in response. Joel made a mental note to ask Piper about the singing later.

"You're already laughin'," Joel observed.

Ellie agreed, "Yeah, okay, true. Well, you're singin' for me later. I'm gonna save the fսckin' world, man. It's the least you can do for me."

Joel weighed his options and shrugged. "Fair enough," he said, looking over at Piper. "What about you, Piper? Do you have any requests once you help save the world?"

At Joel's words, Piper grew quiet, and her eyes cast down. "No…," her voice shook. "No, I-"

"Are those monkeys?" Ellie squealed, pointing over to where a horde of monkeys was running across the stone stairs.

"Must be from the old labs," Joel muttered, slowing his horse.

Ellie laughed, watching the monkeys fumble over themselves. "Look at them go."

"First time seein' a monkey?" Joel raised his brow.

"First time seein' a monkey," Ellie replied for both her and Piper.

Joel smiled, directing his horse to return to the original pace. Up ahead, he noticed a bright yellow symbol covering the faded university signs. He'd recognize that symbol anywhere: the Fireflies.

"Look-it," he uttered, nodding his head to the sign. Piper and Ellie followed his gaze.

"Here we go," Ellie whispered to herself. Anticipation boiled in her blood as they approached the building that housed the Fireflies. She was so close. So close to making a cure and saving the world.

However, as the horse approached, Ellie realized the campus was too quiet and empty for a group of Fireflies to be there. "Guard stations," Ellie said, noticing the empty stations.

Joel frowned before bringing the horse to a halt. Hopping off, Joel grabbed the harness and tied it around a tree before helping Ellie down. Next, he helped Piper secure her horse.

"Mm. No guards," he noted, looking around. He began to walk with Ellie in tow. It was a few paces before he noticed Piper's absence. He turned around and saw her standing beside the horses. Her gun in hand.

"I'm gonna stay and watch the horses," Piper announced.

Joel sighed and began to walk back. "You're comin' with us."

"No, if the Fireflies are in there, then I'll come in. Besides, someone has got to watch the horses." Piper cocked her gun. "I can handle myself."

Biting his lip, Joel found himself nodding his head. "Okay. We'll be back."

Piper scoffed. "You better."

Turning around, Joel motioned for Ellie to follow him in. Together, they entered the building. Paper was scattered all over the floors. Dirt, grime, and mold clung to the once-white walls. Forgotten glass bottles and display cases created a maze along the floor.

Ellie and Joel glanced around the room, looking for any sign of life.

"There were definitely doctors here," Ellie said, picking up some test tubes.

Joel wandered over to Ellie, noticing a brown file on the turned-over cabinet. "This is a packing list—something you make before moving," he explained.

"They just left?" Ellie's brows furrowed.

In the distance, a loud clang of metal echoed throughout the halls. "Maybe not all of them," Joel whispered, readying his rifle.

The clanging continued to call Ellie and Joel deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the science building. Nudging a door open, they discovered some of the monkey's from earlier banging against metal cabinets. Upon sensing their presence, the monkeys screeched as they fled from the window.

"Well… at least it ain't Clickers," Joel said.

"Yeah, no Fireflies either," Ellie added in disappointment. "Maybe in all that research, they turned into fսckin' monkeys."

Joel slowly blinked his eyes, watching Ellie begin to fiddle with the cabinets and kick random bottles along the floor. In the back of the room stood a board with numerous red pins. Joel stepped closer, his eyes narrowing at what he discovered: a map.

"That's where they went?" Ellie asked from behind Joel.

"All the pins lead there." Joel's finger traced the mass gathering of pins on Salt Lake City, Utah. "Maybe gettin' ahead of the weather… better facilities?" Joel suggested. "I don't know."

A harsh whisper from outside the window made the two of them freeze. Joel quickly snuck to the window. Beneath him ran a group of men, all armed. They headed towards the entrance of the science building, to the horses, and to Piper.

"This way," one raider loudly announced.

Another raider whacked his back, "Shut the fսck up," the raider hissed, causing the other to cough.

" Out the back," Joel whispered, trying to silence his steps as he ran down the hallway and stairs. He just hoped he could get to Piper in time. She could handle herself. He knew she could, but he would never forgive himself if something happened.

"Ready?" Joel turned to Ellie as he creaked open the back door. The horses and Piper were visible, but the raiders were nowhere in sight. Joel sighed. They could get out without being spotted.

"Yeah," Ellie nodded. The two crouched down as they sprinted over to the horse.

Piper stood by the horses, whirling around, when Joel whispered her name. For a moment, she raised her brow in confusion when she saw Joel and Ellie's crouched position until she realized why. There was something here—something dangerous.

As Joel and Ellie made their way over, Piper hastily untied the horses from the tree. She handed Joel his horse's bridle and quickly jumped on hers. Her horse grunted as it made a turn, adjusting back to its rider's weight.

"Come here. Come here. Come here," Joel soothed the horse as he instructed Ellie to hop on. "I got ya."

Once her horse was still, Piper noticed another figure. She raised her gun and screamed, "Joel!"

Joel didn't waste time ducking as Piper fired her gun, shooting the raider in the arm and making him drop the metal baseball bat he had swung moments earlier. A river of curses fled the man's mouth.

The sound of Piper's scream and the commotion startled Ellie's horse. The horse screeched, kicked its front legs up, knocked its head, and removed Joel's grip. Ellie cried out, trying her best to hang on.

In the raider's moment of weakness, Joel twirled him, sliding his arm around the man's neck. The curses soon exchanged for pleas and gasps of air as Joel choked the man. The raider's punches grew weaker until he tightened his grip and twisted. A sickening crack filled the air, and the raider dropped dead.

Ellie's horse had stilled when the commotion had died down, and Piper lowered her gun. Despite his heavy breath, Joel caught sight of his girls' horrified expressions. Slowly, his eyes trailed down. His shirt was wet. It wasn't wet before. The worst was the knife impaling his torso. He was positive that had not been there. Joel yanked it out of his body while the adrenaline still pumped through his veins.

The girls' terror only grew as they saw the group of raiders rampaging towards them. "Joel! Get on the horse!" the girls screamed."Get on the horse!"

"Joel!" Ellie cried, extending an arm to help him up. With a grunt, Joel sat upon the horse. He flicked the bridle and forced the horse into a gallop.

"Get him!" The raiders yelled. "Go!"

"Get back!" Piper growled before firing her gun and taking out another raider.

"Shit!" The raiders snarled as they watched another one of their comrades fall. "You mοthеrfսckеr!"

Joel, Ellie, and Piper ignored their curses and hurried their horses. They ran and ran until the border of the university and city was no longer visible. The gigantic buildings were exchanged for train tracks and a suburban neighborhood.

"They're not following us. I think we're safe," Piper breathed, looking behind her.

"Joel? Joel, no, no, no! shit!" Ellie cried as Joel's once-tall figure leaned over and toppled off the horse.

Panic flooded Piper as she fumbled off her horse and over to Joel and Ellie.

"Fսck! Joel? Joel? Shit. Joel, open your eyes. Open your eyes." Piper's hand felt Joel's wound. Pulling her hand up, she discovered it drenched in blood. Fighting the urge to puke, she wiped his blood on her coat.

"Joel, you gotta get up," Ellie begged. Her eyes were beginning to water to a point it was hard to see.

"I can't fսckin' do this without you. I don't know where the fսck I'm going, what the fսck I'm gonna do," Piper trembled as her hands shook Joel. "Joel. Please. Joel, please."

Joel did not answer. His eyes did not open, yet his chest still rose and sank. It was something. Fighting more tears of her own, Piper sniffled. "Ellie, help me get him up." Ellie was too lost in her fear. "Ellie!" Piper shuddered, snapping Ellie out of her panicked daze. "We need to find someplace to stay."

"Where?" Ellie whimpered.

Piper whipped her head around and spotted what seemed to be a neighborhood in the distance. "Maybe there. Looks like a neighborhood." Placing a hesitant hand on Ellie's shoulder, Piper comforted her as best she could. "He'll be okay. We'll be okay."

"How? He got stabbed." Ellie blubbered. "Piper, Joel won't wake up. How is that okay?!"

"I don't know," Piper felt her anxiety flutter to the surface. "But…but I'll figure something out. I always do. Just, come on."

Piper stood up and placed her hands under Joel's shoulders. Ellie placed her underneath his feet. Together, the two girls lifted him with all their might and put him onto the horse. Using her coat to secure Joel to the animal, Piper hopped on the horse, telling Ellie to ride the other.

Piper ignored the cold winter day that nipped at her skin. She ignored the stain on her pants from Joel's leaking wound. Her mind focused only on getting somewhere safe and saving Joel. She had to save him. She meant what she said in her terrified state. She couldn't do this without him. If this occurred months before, Piper would have been fine, but not now. Joel was her home—Her dad. She'd be damned if she was going to lose that after she fought so hard for her family. Piper had to be strong for Joel, like he was for her, and most of all, for Ellie, even if her sister didn't want her strength. If it were the last thing Piper would do, she'd ensure Joel and Ellie made it out.

꧁_꧂

The horses weren't content with the heavy thud of the garage doors. They squealed in discontent, making it difficult for Piper and Ellie to drag Joel off the animal. Piper was grateful the garage could hold the horses. Not only was it cold, but having two live creatures hiding outdoors was a calling card for bad things. If the raiders did decide to come after them, the horse would be the first thing they'd look for.

Joel groaned as his weight sank into the concrete floor of the garage. It felt as if a needle pricked every inch of his body as the blood slowly regained passage to his limbs. With hushed apologies, the girls lugged Joel up the stairs and into the remnants of a home. Trash and debris littered the ground and caught on Joel's feet, halting the girls’ movements every few steps until they could clear the floor. Sweat oozed from Piper and Ellie's skin as they withdrew into the basement.

Ellie argued a bed or a room would be best for Joel. Piper disagreed. It was easier to be attacked and cornered in the room. Besides, they had yet to learn if something resided here. The basement made it more accessible to hide in and guard. After they caught their breaths, the next step was to pull Joel down a long flight of stairs.

Each step left a dull ache in their hearts. Anxiety filled their lungs, and exhaled into the air. Piper swore the air only got thicker and thicker the more they breathed, making her lungs sting. Sweat threatened to drip into their eyes, but the girls refused to wipe it away. They refused to let go of Joel.

Their muscles burned as soon as Joel flopped to the floor. His face scrunched up in pain, and he twisted in turn, increasing his pain. Piper dropped beside him, feeling his head. It was wet and just as sweaty as hers, if not more. Suddenly, she didn't feel hot anymore; she was cold. Every inch of her froze.

"Ellie," Piper whispered. "Go upstairs and find a mattress or something for Joel to lay on."

Ellie huffed a breath of air and wearily nodded before trudging upstairs. It wasn't long before she returned with some worn couch cushions. They had an ugly floral pattern embossed onto them, but Piper did not care about their appearance. The cushions were soft and got Joel off the cold, hard floor.

Placing the cushions on the ground, the girls lifted him and put him onto them. Again, their muscles screamed, but they ignored it. Instead, the girls honed in on the blood that continued to pour out of Joel. Lifting his jacket, Piper got a complete picture of the wound. Joel's once dark gray shirt was now a wet black. His blood seeped into the girl's skin and stained the pages of Piper's book as she yanked it out of her coat pocket and flipped through the pages. Her eyes were wide as she scanned the page.

"It's said to bandage and put pressure," Piper read. "Something about antibiotics, too."

Ellie furrowed her brows, trying to understand, but opened them quickly once she heard the sound of fabric ripping. Piper grunted as she tore off a large strip of her shirt, and gathering the fabric, she carefully lifted Joel's blood-soaked clothes to tie it on.

"Ellie, help me lift him," Piper said as one arm snuck under Joel's shoulder and the other prepped the fabric. Ellie copied her sister's actions, and together, they lifted his chest just enough for Piper to wrap the fabric tightly around Joel. After some rustling, a wet squelch, and a whimper from Joel's mouth. The fabric had been secured. "Put pressure," Piper repeated to herself. Her hands hovered over the wound, the makeshift bandage already turned red from Joel's blood. She gulped, took a deep breath, and, with shaking hands, pushed down on Joel's wound.

A guttural scream burst out of Joel. His back cracked, arching up as his eyes flew open. He tossed around fighting off Piper's attempts to place pressure on his injury. Ellie closed her eyes as she helped fight Joel's panicked movements off.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Ellie said as a mantra. Her muscles demanded she release Joel, who fought with all his might.

"Come on," Piper begged, feeling her cheeks grow wet. From blood or tears, she wasn't sure. "You gotta help me. Come on."

Suddenly, Joel's movements stilled, and his pupils fluctuated as he peered at the girls. The fog that had overcome his mind briefly faded as the knowledge of their situation hit him. He was bleeding out, and they had been attacked by raiders who could still be after them. His girls were terrified, and he could do nothing about it. Finding the strength to pull the girls in, he gasped, "Leave. Leave"

"Shut up, Joel." Ellie trembled.

Joel shook his head and continued. The pain in his gut grew more and more. "Take the gun." He felt a tear on his cheek. It wasn't his.

"Joel shut the fuck up!" Piper cried.

"You go. You go," Joel heaved. "You go north. You go to Tommy. You go."

Then he let them go and fell back down. He watched them. He watched as they sat, crying. There was so much more he wanted to say. He tried to tell them so much if only there was time. But life wasn't fair. It never was, especially not for Joel Miller, but he could at least give them a fair chance. So when they huddled back, trying to help him, he mustered all the strength he could and pushed. He pushed them away so that they might have all the fairness in the world, The fairness that Joel never got. As he watched them pull themselves off the floor and trudge up the stairs, he felt his cheeks grow wetter. Except this time, these weren't the tears of his girls. They were his own. If the world were fair, they'd stay, and somehow Joel would make it out. If the world was fair, they could be a family, and maybe Joel could tell them they were no longer cargo and that perhaps they never were. But that's different from the way the world worked, especially not for Joel Miller.

Cold crept into his bones and threatened to freeze his tears—a permanent reminder of what he could have had and lost. In the dim light of the basement, Joel stifled his cries as he heard his song fade away, and in his silence, his dream became clearer. He sat on a porch with the late afternoon summer sun on his skin, in the distance, fields of green and yellow home herds of sheep. From beside, he hears laughter and giggles. Beside him sit his girls, Ellie and Piper. Ellie's reading jokes from her stupid book. Joel won't admit some of them are funny. He smiles as he watches Piper roll her eyes and fight off a smile. He knows Piper's just like him and won't admit she's fond of Ellie's puns. At some point, the jokes end, and the girls look up at him. They smile and get up. Joel knows they're going to leave. They are going to fade along with him and the dream. The dream will end any minute, and the girls will be gone. Except they don't leave. They come closer.

Now Joel no longer shivers. He opens his eyes, and there are his girls—Ellie on his left and Piper on his right. She cleans his wound with a cloth and a bowl of some liquid. It stings, but not as much as the tears leaking from his eyes. His girls. They came back.

Beside him, Piper muttered to herself the words of the page. Her hands were covered with Joel's blood, but the color had lightened. She'd done her best to clean her hands. That's what the book said, and she was reading it now. It was telling her how to stitch a wound. She hadn't sewn someone up before. She'd mended clothes for herself and Ellie, but those were clothes. Those could tear and fall apart, and she'd be fine, but this was Joel. Joel couldn't fall apart. Joel couldn't leave her, so Piper had to do this right.

Collecting the remnants of courage left in her body, she took her lighter and heated the needle she and Ellie had found upstairs. Once the needle seemed hot enough, she threaded the string through the top, biting her lip as her finger brushed by the heated end. The string went through. Piper took a breath. Her eyes met Ellie's, and she nodded. Her hand lowered, and she began to sew. The needle threaded in and out of Joel's skin, leaving him gasping for air. Except this time, Joel didn't fight. He stayed still and cried, listening to Ellie and Piper's hush sorries. But Joel's tears weren't from the pain. His girls had come back. The world could be fair for Joel Miller. Maybe for a little bit.

꧁_꧂

EXTREME TRIGGER WARNING IN THIS SECTION! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

They had found her in the morning; it was easy to tell her apart from the crowd with the blood that covered her body. She was guilty. There was no doubt about it.

As she stood before the compound's officers and leaders, Piper realized. No one could protect her. Levi was gone. She had killed him. Now, Piper was alone to fend for herself.

No one listened when Piper begged them to. He had tricked her and trapped her in that room. She had come to him for help. Ellie was sick and cold. The cold was deadly at night. Piper didn't want her sister to die, so she asked for help. Late at night, she'd snuck out of her room and found Levi. She asked him for another blanket. She felt relieved when he'd said yes, but that feeling was soon replaced with dread when she heard his following words.

"For a price," Levi smirked and locked the door. "I need something in return if I'm going to keep helping you like this."

The next thing she knew, she was on the floor. Levi was above her. In her terror, she did as any 12-year-old girl would do. She fought. Then he held down her arms and legs. So, she battled with the one thing she had left—her teeth. Levi leaned in close, and she tore at his throat. Blood seeped into her mouth and tainted her tongue. She bit and bit until there was nothing left to bite.

Piper pleaded with the officers to understand, but they could not. All they saw was a body of one of their own—a vacant spot that needed to be filled before them stood a body—a body that could be put to use, a body of a young girl that could be molded into one of them.

No one cried any tears when the twelve-year-old received her verdict. If she were old enough to kill, then kill, she would do. Once the decision rang out, it was swept under the rug, along with the bodies and lies. Piper wished she could cry. She wanted to cry, but everything was numb.

When she got back to her room, Ellie asked. Of course, Ellie asked why her sister had been taken out of the room at dawn. Looking down at her sickly sister, Piper felt her throat grow dry. There was nothing to say. She couldn't tell her sister. How was she supposed to when her mind was still trapped in that room? How was she supposed to explain it to her sister? Instead, Piper crawled into the bed beside Ellie. As Ellie fell back asleep, Piper promised to protect her sister. To never let her see the horrors of the world as she had. It was a promise never to leave. A commitment to follow her anywhere. A promise to be her sister no matter what.

Piper's head pounded as the afternoon sun rose high in the sky and broke through the room window.

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

She'd never let anyone in again. She'd be strong enough for herself and Ellie. That's all that mattered now. She and Ellie. Ellie and her.

꧁_꧂

"You thirsty?" Ellie hoarsely asked, reaching for her water bottle.

Across from her sat Piper. Her hands shook as she traced the indent of the needle on her fingers. She succeeded. She'd sewn up Joel's wound, and the blood had stopped. Piper sighed and wiped her forehead. The sweat along her body grew cold.

Water trickled from the edge of the water bottle into Joel's mouth. He eagerly drank it before his throat closed, causing him to choke and cough. Ellie's eyes widened, and she quickly pulled the water away. With worry, the girls lean over Joel. They watch his breath settle as he sinks deeper into the cushions. As they watched, his eyes grew heavy, and their own eyes' weight was felt. Adrenaline had left, and there was a yearning to sleep in its absence.

Placing the water down, Ellie slowly lowered herself onto the floor beside Joel. Her head rested on his chest, and her eyes closed. Piper fought the tiredness as long as she could before she caved. She lay beside Joel and let sleep take her. As the girl's breath synced with sleep, Joel inched his arms around them. He pulled them closer off the cold floor. With a trembling hand, he brushed his finger through Ellie's tangled hair and, with the other, ran his hands over Piper's head. His fingers ran smoothly over her short pixie. Joel cracked open his eyes for one last glance at his girls before returning to his dream.

꧁_꧂

Grumbles from Ellie's stomach were what awoke her from her slumber. Her eyes were still heavy even after the sun had gone down and returned. She groaned as she sat up, noticing the weight of Joel’s arm around her back. Looking to the other side, Ellie saw Piper reading the first aid guide in the corner. Her orange coat was zipped up, and her beanie was shoved onto her head.

“You hungry?” Piper asked without looking up from the book.

Ellie nodded before standing up and looking for her bag. Opening it up, she found not a single crumb. “Anything in your pack?”

Piper shook her head and placed the book down. “Nothing in Joel’s either.” Brushing dust and flakes of blood off her body, Piper continued. “We need to eat.” She watched as Ellie followed her path to Joel.

Carefully, Piper lifted Joel’s shirt and the bandage to check the wound. Instead of pinkened, angry skin, a white ooze surrounded the injury. Ellie gagged at the sight and glanced away as Piper cursed.

“It’s infected,” Piper said.

Ellie whirled her head around. “How do we fix it?”

Piper furrowed her brows. “Um, medicine. Antibiotics and shit.”

“Where’re we supposed to get those?”

Piper shrugged as panic rose in her voice. “ I don’t know, maybe…upstairs? Fuck, Ellie, I’m tryin’ my best here.”

Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, pushed onto her feet, and marched up the stairs. “Come on.”

“I’m gonna be right back, okay?” Piper whispered into Joel’s ear. She stood up and took a few steps before she glanced back. Returning to Joel’s side, she grabbed his rifle before scrambling up the stairs after her sister.

The two of them scavenged every single cabinet and corner. Nothing was to be found. As their search continued, so did their curses to the world and god, even if they did not believe in him. It was someone to blame, and that was enough for them.

Lastly, the girls made their way to the garage. The horses’ ears perked up as the garage door opened and closed. Piper and Ellie walked over to their horses, giving them pets and pouring water into a bucket. The horses greedily drank the water, splashing some droplets onto the ground.

Sighing, Piper reached for Joel’s rifle, which was slung over her shoulder. She opened it up and checked the bullets. Her hands swiftly shut it and returned it to its original place on her arm. “I’m gonna go find us something to eat.”

Ellie turned around and glanced at her sister. “Can I come?” She pulled out her gun, showing Piper.

Piper shook her head and walked to the garage door, pulling it up. “I need you to watch Joel,” she said as she stepped outside into the morning sun. She gulped, took another step forward, raised her hand, and began to pull the garage door shut again.

Suddenly, the garage clanged as Ellie resisted her sister’s attempts at closing it. “Where the fuck is he gonna go?” Ellie pleaded. “Piper, I…if Joel dies…”

“He’s not going to die,” Piper growled and pulled the garage down with more force, causing Ellie to wince from the pain. Piper froze and let go of the garage door. “Ellie, I’m s-”

“If he dies, I don’t wanna be here.” Ellie grew quiet. “I don’t wanna watch him die.” She peered up at Piper with watery eyes.

Piper bit her lip and groaned, caving in. “… alright,” she said.

꧁_꧂

With guns raised, the girls left the house. They twirled around, covering their corners, until they realized nothing was there except them and the bird song. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Piper sighed. Her eyes closed as her skin soaked in the morning sun.

"Piper," Ellie grunted, using her eyes to point toward the nearby forest.

The elder sister narrowed her eyes on the evergreen trees and valleys of snow. Then she returned her gaze to the neighborhood—cars with flat tires, forgotten RVs, and doors hanging on their last rusted hinges. This place was looked over. There would be nothing here for the girls and nothing here for Joel. She turned back to Ellie and nodded her head, telling her to lead the way.

Ellie had to admit the forest was beautiful. Snow clung to the grooves of the tree bark, painting the dark a bright white. Deep, vibrant green pine needles littered the snow-covered ground as if they were the freckles of the earth. Even if the forest was pretty, the snow and pine needles made it hard for Ellie to spot any animal tracks. Ellie stopped looking a bit closer at the ground and noticed Piper doing the same.

The two of them repeated Joel's instructions as they tried tracking any animals. Rabbits, deer, birds were looking for anything at this point with how their stomachs rumbled.

Piper continued to walk around the forest until she felt Ellie slap her side. Turning around, she scowled at her sister, who rolled her eyes and pointed down the hill. Piper moved her head to follow Ellie's directions. In between two fallen trees and surrounded by brush and weeds poking through the white snow was a rabbit. IItsfur was a faint shade darker than the color of the ground. Piper smiled and raised her gun to shoot the creature. Ellie watched as Piper pulled back her finger. The gun fired. The rabbit jumped and scrambled away.

Cursing, Piper bit her lip, drawing blood from her chapped lips. She turned to her sister, but Ellie was already gone, chasing the animal. Her tiny feet trudged through the snow, sinking deeper with each step. With one more step, Ellie was knee-deep in the snow and crashed to the ground. Ellie groaned as she lifted her head covered in snow.

Piper carefully approached and helped her sister, pulling her to stand. "Come on," Piper nudged. "Let's keep going."

Grumbling, Ellie brushed off the snow and followed Piper, stepping in her sister's footprints as they went deeper into the forest and farther away from Joel. Soon, the trees grew sparser, standing tall and farther apart from the next. The sounds of snow tumbling off tree branches and screeching birds were the only things heard besides the girls' footsteps in the snow. Suddenly, a branch cracked, and a soft sound of repeated clicking was heard. Piper gulped and placed her hand in front of Ellie. She raised Joel's gun and slowly stepped closer to the sound. Ellie drew out her pistol and followed.

They tuned their ears into the clicking, and turning their heads in the direction of the sound, they found a stag. Although it was small in stature, the creature made up for it with the sheer size of its antlers. They were majestic as they sharply rose into the heavens. The deer hadn't seen or heard the girls as it was too distracted munching on some forest shrubbery.

Creeping as close as they could, the girls snuck behind a fallen log. Piper readied the rifle only to freeze upon gazing at the creature. Its dark eyes are filled with only one desire: survival. She swallowed her spit. Piper had failed to shoot the rabbit. She could not risk failure anymore, not when so many were counting on her. Taking a deep breath, she sat back and handed the gun to Ellie, who frowned but took the gun. Ellie settled down low and cocked the gun back. In an instant, the gun had been fired, and the deer toppled to the ground. As fast as it had fallen, the deer had risen again to run off in the opposite direction.

"No fucking way," Ellie spat as she stood up, chasing after it.

Piper spat her own cursing string as she followed her sister and the deer. Ellie had shot when Piper couldn't. As Ellie continued to run, Piper found herself slowing. Ellie had shot the deer. All by herself. Maybe she didn't need Piper anymore. Maybe Ellie would realize this and leave; leave Piper all by herself. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Piper reprimanded herself. It was just hunger. It was only hunger.

Once the girls had tracked the deer and ran out of the clearing, they froze and raised their guns. There, before them, stood two grown men standing over their deer. They were armed, and that's all Piper needed to know before firing a warning shot. The men's gaze shot to the girls.

"Don’t! Drop your rifles!" Piper yelled. Ellie pulled Joel's rifle closer, ready to shoot. The men were hesitant to drop their weapons. It wasn't until the one with red hair nodded that the two lowered their guns. "Now!" Piper demanded, "Turn and face me… Slow. If you make any sudden moves, I will put one right between your eyes. Ditto for buddy boy."

The redhead smiled and raised his hands slowly to the sides of his head. "You’re quite a hunter. We didn’t even hear you coming," he gently spoke. "Both of you."

Piper clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. She felt sicker than she had been when she was ill. Something about the man's voice made her ears ring and her lungs tense. It was as if her lungs refused to breathe air shared by whoever this guy was. She didn't like it.

"Turn around and walk away," Ellie growled orders of her own.

"Okay," the man said again, stepping back and nodding to the other. The other man shrugged his head and followed. Ellie frowned.

The snow beneath the men's feet didn't crunch fast enough to ease Piper's nerves. "Just go!" She barked when she realized their progression back had stopped.

"Okay," the red-haired man muttered. "All I ask is 10 seconds of your time. I just wanna talk."

Piper cocked her gun and shot another warning. The bullet grazed a nearby tree, making the men jump in their boots. "I won’t say it twice," she growled.

"Please. Just 10 seconds," the man spoke. "My name is David. This is my friend, James. We’re from a larger group: women, children, and we’re all… very, very hungry." He motioned to the dead deer near his feet.

"We're from a large group, too," Ellie announced. "Also hungry."

"Well, even so…" David began pointing to the two of them. "Ya can’t drag this back on your own."

"Thank you for your concern, but I think we've got that covered," Piper hissed. They kept inching closer to the girls. Her eyes darted to their feet. If they stepped one more time, she'd shoot them both in the head.

"We’re not asking for charity. We-we can trade you for some of the deer," David begged. "We have– What do you need? We have… boots."

"Medicine?" Ellie blurted. "Like, for infections."

Piper's attention was snapped away from their feet as David spoke. "We do. Back in our village. You’re welcome to follow us."

"We're not following you anywhere," Piper stated. Her feet dug deeper into the snow, securing her stance. "Buddy boy can go get it. He comes back. You get half the deer. Anyone else shows up, I put one right betw–"

"Put one right between my eyes," David finished with a chuckle.

"That’s right," Ellie said.

"All right," David agreed before turning to the other man. "Go talk to Howard. He’s got a case with some penicillin. Bring back two bottles and a syringe. It’s not code, James. Do as I said."

The man, James, hesitantly looked between David and the two armed girls. Each of them bore a fire in their eyes he'd only ever seen described in the bible. The eyes of the devil, of a killer.

"Ten steps back. Keep going," Ellie instructed James, carefully watching him as he backed away to fetch medicine.

It felt like forever as James sunk deeper and deeper into the forest. Piper was sure he'd sneak around them and attack from behind, but it never came. Still, she and Ellie stood on guard, their guns trained on David.

"That’s your dad’s gun?" David asked, pointing to the rifle in Ellie's hand. "He's the one that’s sick? That’s why you’re out here on your own?"

"What's with all the fucking questions?" Piper snarled.

David's posture caved upon hearing Piper curse. It was almost as if she was offended by her language. "Well, look, uh… it’s a four-mile round trip back to our settlement, he began. "It’s gonna be… a while before James gets back. I have some oil and matches in my pack. We could… take shelter, start a fire."

Piper's eyes narrowed. "We can handle the cold. I'm not sure about you." Ellie shifted beside her. Piper turned to look at her sister. Ellie's burned a bright red, and snot trickled down her nose. Her sister was cold. "…Fine," Piper agreed after a moment. She used her gun and pointed in the distance to a nearby shed. "There," and then waited for David to move.

Once David took his first step, Ellie demanded, "Bring him with us." David looked back and frowned, confused. Ellie pointed to the deer and repeated herself, "Bring him with you." David reached down and grabbed the antlers. "Go," Ellie continued.

She trailed behind David, the rifle ready to fire at the earliest sign of danger. Piper was in tow, tightly gripping the guns James and David had dropped in the snow.

Soon, they reached the shed and had David start a fire. The fire crackled and snapped as the flames consumed the firewood and other kindling. The heat from the fire reached underneath the girls' coats as they sat across David, who sat on the ground. While their guns no longer stood tall in the air, their hands never left the cold, smooth surface of their weapons.

"You know," David said with a smile as his eerie blue eyes flickered back and forth between Piper and Ellie. "You really shouldn’t be out here all on your own."

"Who said we were?" Piper scoffed. The flames illuminated the grim stare embedded in her dark eyes. The purple circles coloring her eye sockets only increased the darkness David found in them. Ellie, on the other hand, was warm. Her eye sockets were free from any darkness, yet her eyes still held a deadly stare, more somber than her sisters'. "From where I’m sitting, you shouldn’t be out here on your own," Piper scolded.

"Fair enough," David shrugged, trying to hide the shiver that covered his body. "So what’s your name? It’s hard to trust strangers. I know. But I honestly mean you no harm."

"I call bullshit," Piper hissed under her breath. She was right. It was getting harder to breathe around David.

David sighed and peered up at the girls. His voice was full of pity. "…For what it’s worth, there’s room for you in our group if you want."

"You’re inviting us to your Hunger Club?" Ellie rolled her eyes. She didn't need this suddenly profound pity David had mustered. She and Piper have never needed anyone's pity. It was worthless in the world the outbreak had created. "No thanks."

"It’s true. We’re hungry," David chuckled. "But… we’re still here…I’m a decent man just tryna take care of the people who rely on me."

Piper frowned. "You’re their leader?" She asked in disbelief. She eyed David up and down, and her frown only deepened. He wasn't a leader. Not in the way Joel, Tess, Tommy, and Maria were. No, he seemed weak yet confident. Piper was unsure where this confidence got assurance from. His people were hungry, and if they looked anything like James, then his people were also sick. Hunger does things to the human mind. It grows fragile and naive in search of comfort and food. Piper knew it well. The QZ would do it to punish the kids. Revoke daily meals, and the kids will start speaking a different tune. It unnerved her.

"Wasn’t my choice. It was theirs," David explained. "But… yes."

"They chose to follow you,” Ellie repeated as a thought formulated in her head. It seemed she and Piper were on a similar wavelength. "Is this some weird cult thing?"

"Uhh," David blushed. "Well, you sorta kinda got me there. I am a preacher, but just pretty standard Bible stuff."

"What?!" Ellie snickered the moment the bible was mentioned.

"The whole world ended, and you still believe that shit," Piper mocked.

"I started believing after the world ended," David corrected. He adjusted his seat to make himself appear taller and more prominent, but to the girls' he was just as small as ever, if not even smaller than before. "Before that, I was a teacher," David said, and a glimmer appeared in his eyes. Piper's breath stilled. She wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or what, but she swore a flash of desire shone in his eyes when he said that. What was worse, his eyes honed in on Ellie. "Math. Taught kids about your age," he noted, pointing to Ellie.

"So you went from teacher to preacher because," Ellie scoffed, "what? It fuckin’ rhymes?"

David grinned and shrugged as if it was the funniest joke he had heard. "Yeah, exactly."

"But seriously," Ellie said, awaiting David's actual answer.

"Well," David sighed, beginning his story.

The more he spoke, the more Piper realized where the unease with David came from. His eyes, the look they held whenever he looked at Ellie, she had seen before. It was the same look Levi had in his eyes that night. The longer Piper thought about it, the more she realized Levi had always had that unsettling gleam in his eyes.

"I found God… after the Apocalypse," David continued. "Which is either the best time or the worst time to find Him, hard to say. But when the Pittsburgh QZ fell in ’17, Fireflies and FEDRA… I left with a few others, and that’s how I ended up with our flock."

"Long way from Pittsburgh," Piper said with a low voice. Her defense screamed at her to pick up the gun and shoot David. But she couldn't. Not when he had medicine that could save Joel.

David chuckled again. "Yeah, we’d settle somewhere, and then raiders would come, so we’d move again. And as we wandered, we picked up new people along the way until… we ended up here." He looked around the shed before settling on Ellie.

"Well," Ellie said, "your luck had to run out sooner or later."

"Hm? Luck?" David raised his brows and shook his head. "There’s no such thing as luck. No," David inched closer to the fire and, in turn, closer to the girls. "I-I-I-I believe everything happens for a reason. It does. I can prove it to you."

"Okay." Ellie urged him on.

"We didn’t expect this winter to be so cruel," David explained. "Nothing’ll grow. Game’s been hard to find. So I sent four of our people to a nearby town to scavenge what they could. And only two of ’em came back. One who didn't come back was a father. The other was a husband. The father had a daughter just like you. And her dad was taken from her. Turns out, he was murdered… by this crazy man." David hid his sneer under a smile as he looked between the two girls. "And get this. That crazy man… was traveling with two little girls."

Piper's eyes widened as she heard some of the shed's floor creak behind her. She jumped out of her seat. Gun raised, pointing into the forest. Her eyes narrowed, and she stilled her breath. While her body remained calm and controlled, her mind was on fire. An array of curses and fears swarmed each thought. These were the raiders. She'd killed one of them and Joel the other. With the glint in David's eye and the fury of the land, Piper knew one thing. Revenge was guaranteed.

Ellie stood alongside Piper, her gun trained on David instead of the vast forest, awaiting her sister's order.

"You see?" David continued. “Everything happens for a reason." Then, looking out into the forest that drew Piper's attention, he calmly called out. "James, lower the gun."

Suddenly, James appeared with his gun held high, trained on Piper. Piper let out a guttural breath and stared down James. Her finger hovered over the trigger. "They're the ones that killed Alec, aren’t they?"

David stood up with his arms raised. "The girls didn’t kill anybody," David assured. "Lower the gun."

James scoffed and prepared to shoot Piper. "She's the one who killed Desmond. The boys told me he got shot by a girl who looked like a boy. That's her."

"Drop it," Piper growled, and James ignored her, hardening his expression. "I said to fucking drop it. Unless you want a bullet to find a new home in your skull."

"Did you bring the medicine?" David calmly asked James.

James' expression broke upon hearing his leader's voice. "Yeah, but–"

"Throw it to her."

"David," James pleaded. His hand itched to shoot and kill Piper. However, David's stern demand did not falter, and James sighed. Reaching into his pocket, he tossed Piper the medicine.

With ease of breathing, Piper snatched the medicine out of the air. A syringe was taped to the side of the small glass bottle. She glanced down and pocketed the medicine before returning her gun to James.

"Back away," Ellie growled.

James slowly made his way around the girls and found a stance next to David. David handed him an extra gun in his pocket, but David didn't take it. Instead, he began to talk again. "I know you’re not with a group. You won’t survive for long out there. I can protect you," he assured.

"I'll take my chances," Piper snarled as she slowly began to back away. Her eyes never left David and James. Ellie mimicked her sister's movements until they were far enough away for the shed to be the size of their thumb.

James watched as the girls stopped and turned, entering a sprint. He scoffed, turning to David. "So you’re just gonna let them get away?"

David shook his head. "Patience, James," he assured. "God rewards those who wait."

꧁_꧂

It was stupid to run in the direction of Joel, but Piper couldn't care. They had the medicine, and Joel needed it more than Piper's desire to lead David and James astray if they decided to follow. Showing them the direction was one thing, but as the snow squashed beneath her feet, another thought soon overpowered her need to save Joel. Their footprints. They would lead David and his band of fucked raiders straight to them.

The air around her fogged up as Piper slowed her pace. "Els," she hissed, worried that David and James may be able to hear her.

"What?!" Ellie turned around to look at her sister.

Piper dug into her coat pocket and tossed Ellie the medicine. "Here, get back and give this to Joel."

Ellie's brows pinched together as a low level of panic boiled to the surface. "Piper, what are you-"

Her older sister had already moved on to her next task. Marching over to a nearby evergreen, Piper jumped on the lowest branch. A clean snap filled the air as Piper tore off the branch and swiped at their footprints. "I'm covering our asses, that's what."

Ellie's stare switched between the vial of medicine and her sister, who was hard at work erasing any trace of their footprints.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" Piper laboriously wondered. The small pine needle scratched at the ground, diminishing any sign of the girls.

Snapping herself out of her daze, Ellie tightened her grip on the medicine and ran. Worry filled her being the farther away she got from Piper. She was leaving her sister alone. David, James, and whoever was out there could come after them. They could be coming now, and she had left her sister alone. Her only thought of respite was Joel. If she could save Joel, he could save them. That's what he did. He always saved them.

The house appeared before Ellie's vision faster than she thought it would. Her legs burned as she darted into the house and down the stairs to Joel. Desperate pants left her mouth as she collapsed beside Joel. With shaking hands, she lifted the blanket off of him. Then, deftly peeling up his shirt, she winced in disgust. The wound seemed even more infected than it had been before. Sweat beaded on her forehead and trickled down her brows as she handled the antibiotics with as much care as possible. A new wave of panic filled her once the syringe was filled to the brim.

"Ah, okay," she said, wiping away the sweat threatening to cloud her vision. "The fuck do I put this? Alright, what would Pipes do? Uh…" Ellie glanced around the room and spotted Piper's blood-coated first-aid book. Scrambling over, she snatched it up and flipped through each page. There was nothing about injections and antibiotics.

"Fuck," she cursed and crawled back over to Joel. "Joel? Joel? Joel, where the fuck do I put this?" Joel lay unresponsive. A layer of sweat and grime coated his skin, making his dark skin appear pale. "Fuck it," and with one swift motion, she stabbed the syringe directly into the sewn-up wound.

Joel groaned. His eyes tensed but never opened despite the immense pain his body was in. Once the syringe had been emptied, Ellie withdrew the needle before debating giving him another injection. Shaking her head instead, she carefully wrapped the needle and medicine and placed them into Joel's bag for safekeeping.

She watched Joel's tense expression soften and sighed, feeling a wave of exhaustion fall over her. She had run. For how long, she didn't know, but she had run. Her whole body ached: her legs, her shoulder from the kickback of the rifle, her back, and her head. Everything hurt, and she was tired. She was a little girl who only wanted to curl up beside Joel and fall asleep into a beautiful dream of a sheep farm on the moon. So, that's what she did. She snuggled up close to Joel, pulling the blanket over them, and sank deep into sleep.

By the time Piper had reached the house's front steps, her orange coat had been removed and tied at her waist. Her shirt was soaked with sweat from disguising her and Ellie's footsteps. Groaning, she wiped away the last of Ellie's prints and opened the garage before tossing the branch with the horses. With the garage door closed, Piper slid to the floor and took a moment to breathe. One of the horses trotted beside her, sniffing her hair before deciding to try to nibble on it. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her mouth as she brushed the horse away.

Standing up, Piper pulled off her coat and threw it over her shoulders, not placing her arms through the sleeves due to the heat her body was still disposing of. She'd done her best removing any sign of where the girls went, but the knowledge that David and James knew the direction they had gone in and the footprints from before she began her bluff that they could trace and track. She prayed that they were enough to keep them safe. At the very least, to give the girls time to recuperate and Joel time to heal.

Her feet felt heavy as she stepped down the stairs and into the basement. "Ellie, did you…" Piper's voice trailed off when she saw the scene before her.

Ellie's chest softly rose and fell. Her arms were wrapped around Joel, who looked better than he had ever had since the injury. A soft smile melted onto Piper's features, and she quietly stepped down the rest of the stairs.

It felt colder in the basement, so Piper placed on the rest of her coat, zipping it up. Carefully, she picked up Joel's rifle and tip-toed over to the basement window. Sitting beneath it, she cracked it open, just enough to hear the world outside but not enough to invite the cold in. Leaning up against the wall, Piper rested her head on the wall and closed her eyes, Not to sleep but to relax. Piper had no time to sleep, especially if predators were hunting them.

꧁_꧂

Voices cascaded over the ground like the morning fog. Piper's eyes shot open as a wave of footsteps and grumbles grew closer and closer. Her blood ran cool, and her skin paled as white as the snow. It was David, and he brought company.

They were too far away for Piper to make out anything they said, but that didn't matter. Securing Joel's rifle over her shoulder and pocketing her pistol, Piper shuffled over to Joel and Ellie.

"Ellie," Piper hissed, shaking her sister awake. "Ellie, wake up."

Ellie's eyes flew open, and her lungs gasped. "Piper?"

"They're here," Piper anxiously explained. "They found us."

Ellie gulped and looked down at Joel. Placing her hands on his shoulder, she shook him. "Joel! Joel, wake up. Joel, wake the fuck up, Joel," Ellie pleaded.

Joel's eyes shot open, and he darted around the room before settling on the girls. His mind was still in a daze, making it difficult for him to process Piper's words.

"Okay… okay, look at me." Piper turned Joel's face to look at her. "There are men coming, okay? I’m gonna lead them away from you, but if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?"

Joel's eyes slowly closed, causing Ellie to snap her finger loudly next to his ears.

"Joel, do not fall asleep," Ellie demanded, but it was useless. Joel's eyes closed, and he returned to his sleep.

Piper pushed herself off the floor and began to hike up the stairs when a pair of footsteps accompanied her.

"What are you doing?" Piper asked.

"I'm coming with you," Ellie replied.

Piper shook her head and walked her sister back down to Joel. "No! Ellie, I'm serious. I need you to stay with Joel. He's…he's fucking out of it. I need you to make sure no one makes it down here."

"I'm not letting you do this alone," Ellie desperately said.

"No! Ellie," Piper commanded. "Just fucking stay. Or you'll get us both killed. Stay with Joel. Protect him until he wakes up. I'm gonna lead them away and kill'em. Stay here."

"No-" Ellie began, but Piper shut her down.

"I didn't ask you," Piper growled. Her voice grew dark and dangerous, warning Ellie to back down. "You're staying." In the blink of an eye, Piper shoved Ellie to the ground and darted up the stairs. When Ellie got to her feet, the stairwell door had been shut and barricaded.

Ellie pounded on the door, tears in her eyes. "Piper! Let me out!" She cried. "Pipes! Fuck!"

Fighting the tremble in her voice, she spoke to her sister through the door with clenched teeth. "I'm doing this for your own good."

Without another word, Piper readied Joel's rifle and snuck out the back door. A sigh of relief escaped her once she realized the horses had stayed quiet. With the silence of the late morning, Piper crouched down low. It was up to her now. She couldn't miss. She had to keep Joel and Ellie safe. She had to lead them away.

Her first thought was to take them into the forest, but she knew they would expect that. They'd only send so many men after her and keep the rest in the neighborhood. Instead, Piper chose to lead them deeper into the neighborhood, away from Ellie and Joel. Recalling her faint memory of what the rest of the neighborhood consisted of, Piper remembered a school. She could lead them there. Like a forest, the hallways and classrooms would provide a vantage point to take out the group quietly. That's if Piper was brilliant. The problem there was getting the group into the school. She had to make them think that's where she was staying.

Sneaking around the backyards of the homes that littered the street, she crawled onto a fence and into one of the yards. On the ground lay a rusted ladder. Glancing at it, Piper realized she could sneak onto the roof. It was the perfect place to shoot them down one by one. Maybe she didn't have to lead them to the school.

Pulling herself up the ladder and onto the roof, Piper crawled across the tiles until she spotted the group. David walked into the center with James on his right. There were eight of them. Each of them were armed, all except David. He pointed to the homes on the right and started barking orders.

Preparing the rifle, Piper lay down and peered through the scope. Her sights were on David. She could pull the trigger and kill him right then and there, but then she'd have a pack of revenge-hungry cultists after her. She smiled. That's exactly what she wanted. Kill the leader and then lead the whole group to the school, where she'd pick them off one by one.

Steadying her breath and focusing on David, she pulled back the trigger and fired. There was a cry as the gunshot echoed off the homes. A raider fell, soaking the snow a dark red. But it wasn't David. Piper cursed. She shot the man behind him. Hurriedly, she got ready to shoot again. Her head was down low as she prepared to fire. A cool, sharp whisk of wind flew by her head. She whirled her head around.

"Shit," she snarled. They'd found her. Getting up from her spot, she heard them fire a few more shots as she crawled off the roof.

"Get her! Remember, alive!" She heard David scream as thundering footsteps ran in her direction. She pulled herself over the fence and ran. The school, she kept telling herself, away from Joel and Ellie. She had to keep them safe.

When she heard the raider reach her old spot, Piper had circled the back of the neighborhood. She could see David, James, and one other man.

Piper scoffed and snuck closer, preparing a shot. "It's their own fucking funeral," she whispered to herself.

A horse's shrill filled the air as she readied to fire again. Piper froze as the body of a horse ran onto the street. It wasn't the horse that terrified her—it was the person who sat on the back of the horse.

"Hey, motherfuckers!" Ellie yelled. She shot her gun a few times, taunting the raiders.

David and his group ran after her. Piper bit her cheek, drawing blood. "Fuck," she cursed and ran after her sister, who was half-hazardly firing her gun from atop the horse.

"Shit!" A raider screamed after a bullet grazed his skin. Then, they began to fire at her and the horse.

"Fucking hell, Ellie." Piper's speed picked up, and her breath grew labored.

"Go! Let’s go," James yelled as he motioned for some people to follow him.

"Alive!" David shouted over the chaos of it all.

"Keep comin’, fuckers!" Ellie teased.

Piper continued to run. Her feet blurred as she ran on the pavement, not caring to hide behind the cars and homes. All thoughts of the school were gone. Ellie was out. They had seen her, and she was taunting them to come closer. With each fire of their guns, they got closer to stealing Ellie away. Piper's heart pumped faster and faster. She had to save Ellie. She couldn't let them get her sister. She had to-

A gun fired, and the horse fell to the ground, sending Ellie flying to the ground.

"I got her!" James triumphantly yelled.

"Ellie!" Piper's voice cracked. Raising her gun to fire, she didn't care if she missed. She had to get them away from her sister. She had to get David away. "No, no, no," she breathed, watching David pick up her sister and cradle her in his arms.

Suddenly, a searing pain shot through her leg. Piper screamed and clutched her thigh, feeling the blood trickle out. Her ears screeched as she tumbled to the ground.

"Got the other one!" A raider announced from behind her. He stepped up to her side, yanked the weapons out of her hand, and kicked her in the chest just for good measure.

Piper gasped and clenched her teeth to stifle her cry of pain. She wouldn't give the fucker the pleasure. The pain flooded her, making it hard to notice anything around her. Suddenly, the sun's gaze was blocked by a shadow. Worn leather boots stepped up to her face.

Peering up, fighting the tears in her eyes, she saw David holding Ellie. He smiled down at Piper and brushed away some stray hairs on Ellie's face. Piper groaned and spotted her pistol just beside David's foot. She pulled her hand away from her bleeding leg and reached before James stepped up and kicked it farther away.

"Everything happens for a reason," David muttered.

"If you fucking hurt her," Piper growled. "I'll-"

David nodded, and then her world went black. A dull pain traveled from the base of her head, encasing her in darkness.

"Shhh," David whispered to Piper. "Everything will be alright. You're in God's hands now." Then, turning to the group, he began giving out instructions. "Two of you with me. Drag the horse. The rest of you, stay here. Go door to door. Are you so hungry for vengeance? Deliver it."

The men didn't need another word as revenge and rage flooded their souls. With a sickening grin, they readied their weapons and began their search. They were determined to find the man who had killed one of their own. The girls would be dealt with on David's accord, and only God'; would save them.

꧁_꧂

Something inside Joel forced him awake. It was a whisper tickling the back of his mind. Gently, it eased his eyes open. The location of the basement dimmed the light of the sun that fought its way through. Flickering its way down to the concrete floor, the light touched particles that bounced in the air. They shimmered as the air flew them around.

In his daze, Joel's dark eyes followed the dust as they captured the sun's light. A soft smile crept onto his face. The sun's light reminded him of his dream. It was such a good one. One he hoped to make real—him and his girls. Just as fast as the smile had come, it had faded into something more grim. His girls.

The whisper in his mind grew louder and louder. Words that were once fumbling together now became apparent. "There are men coming, okay?" He heard Piper's voice as it struck away the fog clouding his mind. "I’m gonna lead them away from you, but if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?"

Joel nodded to an empty basement, and his face paled upon realization. The girls were gone. He shot up, wincing from the pain in his stomach. The guns were gone. The familiar colors of Ellie's purple and Piper's orange coats were replaced with the wooden walls of the basement. His girls were gone.

A cool metal burned his skin, causing him to look down. Ellie's knife. He'd recognize it anywhere. She never let it leave her sight. It had been a gift from Piper. Joel's grip around the knife tightened. His girls. Where were they?

A cloud of dust fell down the ceiling, catching more of the sunlight. Joel froze before looking up. The floor above creaked as footsteps pounded down. Whoever the steps belonged to was trying to be quiet, but they were heavy on their feet—almost sluggish, Joel noted. His girls' footsteps didn't sound like that. Ellie held the weight of her feet on her toes, and her step was springy.

On the other hand, Piper's step was silent. It was almost as if she floated above the ground with how she walked. Joel knew his girls, and whoever was above wasn't them.

The footsteps stilled momentarily, and then a screech was heard as something dragged across the floor. It was an unmistakable noise. Close to the door. Joel stifled his groan as he stood up to a standing position. Clutching the knife close to his body, he quickly scanned the basement for a place to hide. Creeping into a dark corner, Joel held his breath and waited.

Footsteps descended the stairs. Joel heard the heavy breath of the invader, and the shakiness of his hands at the gun he held rumbled between his hands. The man had crept deeper into the basement, flipping around for any sign of Joel. With his back turned Joel saw his chance. He pounced on the man, wrapping an arm around the man's neck.

He struggled and fought Joel's grip, dropping his gun to favor his hands. They beat against Joel's arm before coming to a still once a sharp blade pierced his jugular. The man fell weak and turned to look at Joel, who drove the blade deeper. Blood squirted out, spraying all over Joel's hands. As the man fell, his weight dragged Joel down with him, and with a deadly grin on his face, the man died.

Joel released his grip on the blade and yanked it out of the man's neck. Blood pooled out of the wound and spilled onto the concrete floor. Joel groaned as the wound on his side sent flashes of pain along his body. His lungs wheezed and craved the restful slumber he had before, but now wasn't the time for slumber. Piper wouldn't have let this man get into the basement. He'd seen how she killed that boy. He'd seen her fight. The only way she'd let it happen was if she was gone.

He knew now what happened. Joel understood from the footsteps outside the basement that his girls were gone. These people had come to hunt them. If it were a hunt they wanted, he'd give it to them. He'd get his girls back.

꧁_꧂

The floor was cold and uninviting when Piper woke up. A chill rolled through her body quickly to be replaced with pain. In waves, it rippled from her thigh, roaring as it left echoes of agony in its wake. Her breath tensed as the pain reached her chest. Hastily, she clutched at her head and leg to ease it. That's when she felt it, the coarse cotton of a bandage. Peering through the sweat and tears, Piper saw her leg neatly wrapped up. She felt around the bandage and almost immediately regretted her decision, biting her lip to stop the cry of distress that thrashed within her.

"I started worrying you wouldn’t wake up." A ghostly voice said.

Whirling around, Piper caught sight of David. He stood outside her cell with a smile on his face. Piper scowled as she took in her surroundings. A chain-link fence tied the walls together, trapping her in a cage.

"Don't worry, it was a clean shot. The bullet went right through," David noted, pointing to the leg Piper had been clinging onto.

"Where's my sister?" Piper asked. Her voice seemed alien to her with how hoarse and dry it was. It was as if she was speaking on the edge of death.

David folded his arms across his body and looked down at Piper. "She's safe with us," he assured her, and his smile grew large upon seeing Piper's reaction. "You'll see her soon."

Piper lunged at David, only to be stopped by the fence. She violently shook it, causing the room to erupt in a screeching fit. "Let me out, you fucker." Piper screamed.

"Well, that’s certainly the goal," David chuckled.

Feeling another spasm of pain from her leg, Piper collapsed to the floor. "Why am I in a cage?"

Crouching down to her level, David answered. "Because I’m afraid of you. You’re a dangerous person." His eyes slowly looked Piper over, leaving trails of goosebumps over her skin. "You’ve certainly proven that. The others, they want me to kill you for all that’s happened. Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?"

"Yeah," Piper coughed, her original voice poking through.

"But I stopped them," David added and leaned in close as if he wanted Piper to be grateful and get on the floor and beg for forgiveness.

"I don't need your fucking protection," Piper snarled before spitting into David's face. She watched as David's smile faded.

With jerky motions, he flicked her spit off his cheek. "Well…," he said, returning to his terrifying gentle expression. "Why don’t we just start with your name?"

"Buster Hi-Man," Piper smirked.

Something in David snapped, and he lunged for Piper but stopped before reaching the fence. "Hey, listen to me!" He yelled. "You can’t survive on your own. No one can. But I can help you. Let me protect you."

Piper growled at David, and through clenched teeth, she corrected him. "I’m not on my own."

"Right," David scoffed. "Your friend. And how is he? I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts. But even so…" he looked at her leg and sighed. "You gotta face reality. That part of your life is ending. And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me… then, yes, you are alone."

"Fuck you," Piper hissed. She couldn't let David see how deep her words cut. Joel was out there. She had left him with those monsters. She had let them capture Ellie. She had failed. She had failed Riley. She had failed Tess. She had failed Henry and Sam. Now, she has failed Joel and Ellie. She had failed, and now she was truly alone.

"Everything happens for a reason," David muttered with a smug smile. Pushing off his feet, he stood up and walked to the door of the room Piper was being held in.

"Where the fuck is my sister?!" Piper roared.

"Like I said," David said, peeking over his shoulder. "She's safe. Maybe she'll be smarter than you. I can keep her safe. I can protect her, unlike you. Ponder what I've said."

With that, David was gone, and Piper was alone. Piper had failed, and now she was alone.

꧁_꧂

Joel had hunted. It was easy to take out the two other men who were after him. With one swift bang of the butt of the rifle, he had knocked them out and tied them up in the living room of the house he and the girls sought safety in. He'd find his girls and bring them home.

The first man was a denier. He pleaded with Joel as he brought his hand to his face, beating him over and over. If the man wouldn't speak, Joel would tear it out of him.

"Stop… stop. Please," the raider begged as Joel punched him again. A sharp groan escapes his mouth.

Joel withdrew his hand and reached for Ellie's knife. In doing so, he saw the other man awake. With a threatening smile, Joel raised the knife for the other man to see.

"Leave him alone," the other demanded.

Joel ignored him and instead tuned into the raider before him. He kept spouting the exact words. "Please… I don’t know any girls," he cried. Joel clenched his jaw and stabbed the knife deep into the man's thigh before twisting it. "Oh, fuck!" The raider screamed as his body involuntarily squirmed.

"Jesus!" The other raider whispered, alerting his fellow man to his presence.

"Marco," the raider called out, leaning his back to catch a glimpse of his partner.

Joel snatched the raider's head and yanked it forward, forcing the man to look at him. "No-no, no-no-no. He can’t help you," Joel used the knife to point to himself. "You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off." He placed the knife at an angle to do just as he said. The tip of the knife dug under the skin, and the raider whimpered.

"She’s alive," the man confessed. "Both of 'em."

"Where?" Joel growled, leaving the tip of the knife embedded in the man's knee, but he didn't answer. Joel's body tensed as the urge to live up to his promise became stronger and stronger. But today wasn't the day Joel would fight his violent urges. His girls were gone. Whoever was with these men took them, and Joel would get them back. He pulled the knife back and stabbed it back in, lifting it.

A raw scream erupted from the man's throat. "Ah, fuck! Fuck! Ah, the town!" He shrieked.

It wasn't enough. None of the answers were enough. He pulled the knife with as much force as he could muster. "What town?!" He roared in the man's face.

"Silver Lake," the man whimpered, and Joel twisted the knife. "Ah! It’s not a real town name. It’s a resort," he exclaimed.

"A resort?" Joel asked. The man didn't respond fast enough, so Joel twisted the knife further into his knee and leaned in close. "You’re gonna point to where we are… and where your “resort” is. And it better be the same spot your buddy points to," Joel warned.

Taking the knife out of where it impaled the raider, Joel shoved the knife's handle into the man's mouth. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a map. Carefully unfolding it, he held it open for the raider and awaited his answer.

With a trembling head, the raider used the knife to point to a location on the map. "Okay," Joel muttered, marking the spot in his mind.

"…That’s where we are. I swear. Go ask him. He’ll tell you. I’m not lying," The raider explained.

Joel stood up and removed Ellie's knife from the man's mouth. He nodded as his mind absorbed the raider's words. They were to be his last. Within the blink of an eye, Joel drove Ellie's knife into the heart of the man. The blade twisted as the man's life slowly faded from his eyes.

He had died faster than Joel liked. The more pain he could give these men, the better, but that required time. Time his girls didn't have, so he had to settle for a swift, bloody end. Pulling the blade out, Joel marched over to Marco, who scrambled to escape.

"No… no!" Marco cried. "Shit! Jesus! No! Why the fuck did you do that?! He told you what you wanted!"

Joel wiped Ellie's blade and carefully placed it in his jacket pocket. Then he picked up a pipe he had taken from one of the raiders. The metal felt light as he flipped it in his hands. Then he sauntered over to Marco, who resorted to cursing out Joel.

"You motherfucker. Fuck you. I ain’t tellin’ you shit." Marco spat at Joel.

"It’s okay…," Joel coolly said. "I believe him."

He raised the pipe in the air as if praising the heavens above. Then, allowing the weight of gravity to take over, Joel brought the pipe down. Marco didn't have time to scream his god's name before his face resembled a dirtied bowl that not even the devil would use.

꧁_꧂

Ellie snickered to herself about her captors' stupidity. They had put her in a cage with a window. While the window was too tall for Ellie to reach on her own, her captors kept a bucket in the cage. Flipping the bucket upside down, Ellie placed it under the window, stepped up, and jumped. Her hands caught the bottom of the windowsill. Grunting, she bent her arms in an attempt to pull herself up.

It failed, and Ellie was no longer laughing. Maybe her captors were more competent than she thought. Hearing footsteps outside her prison door, Ellie pushed herself up and pulled the bucket away from the window. By the time the door flung open, Ellie had shoved herself into a corner far away from the bucket and window.

"It's good you're awake," David greeted. Your sister woke up a while ago," he mentioned as he pulled a chair to Ellie's cage.

Ellie's head shot up and ground her teeth together. "What the fuck did you do to my sister?"

David smiled and waved off her aggression. "She's fine. You know, my people," he added. "They wanted to kill her. She killed two of our men. It only seemed fair, but I stopped them. I protected her. I can protect you, too. How are you feeling?"

"Eat shit," Ellie growled before tucking herself as far as she could go into the corner.

David smiled before looking to his side. He picked up a bowl and slid it through Ellie's prison bars to her. "Here, this is for you."

Ellie glanced at the bowl and scowled, but it soon faded with the look of pure horror. Beyond where David sat lay a bloodied ear. Ellie glanced down at the bowl of soup containing chunks of thick meat. She felt sick.

"For what it’s worth," David added, "this is just deer meat. I swear."

"You’re gonna chop us up into little pieces," Ellie accused.

Shaking his head, David replied. "I’d rather not. Please, just tell me your name." She refused to answer. She wasn't giving this fucker her name. "If you wanna judge me–"

"Judge you?" Ellie shouted from the top of her lungs. as she kicked the bowl out of the cell. The glass shattered as it hit the wall. "You’re eating people, you sick fuck!"

"Yes," David agreed with a soft voice as if he was trying to quiet Ellie. "There are only a few of us that know. But I would’ve told you. Sooner or later. I guess sooner,' he shrugged.

"You’re an animal," Ellie hissed.

"Well, yes, we all are," David said. "That’s sorta the point." With a deep sigh, David continued. "It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, who expect me to keep them safe, who love me?"

Ellie scoffed. "Yeah, maybe."

Stepping closer to the cage, David adamantly shook his head. "You don’t believe that. I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?" Ellie turned away. She couldn't bear to look at the monster anymore. "What about your sister? She took two men's lives. She did it for you."

"They were defending themselves," Ellie refuted.

"They were defending you. But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you? Me. You remind me of me," David stated. Ellie wanted to throw up. "You’re a natural leader, you’re smart… loyal. Violent."

"You don’t know anything about me," Ellie replied.

"But I do," David corrected. "If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know. I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended, and I was shown the truth."

"Right…," Ellie rolled her eyes. "…by God."

"No. By Cordyceps," David said. Ellie's brows pinched together, and she turned to look at David. "What does Cordyceps do?" David continued, having caught Ellie's attention. "Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence if it must. It loves."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Ellie's feet had pulled her closer to the bars of her cell. Her hand wrapped around the cool metal and squeezed it with the image of David's neck in her mind.

"Because you can handle it. The way the others can’t. They need God. They need heaven. They need…," David paused and looked at Ellie. Cautiously, he approached her. "They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep; all I want is an equal. A friend."

Ellie frowned. "What about my friend? What about my sister?"

David sighed. "Like I said, loyal. I can tell the others to stop looking for him. I can tell them to let your sister go."

The hope in Ellie's voice betrayed her. "Really? They’ll just let them go?"

"Yes," David nodded. "If they leave us in peace, my people will just let them go. They do what I tell them to do. They follow me. And they would follow us. Lord knows I could use the help." Taking the final steps, David stood directly in front of Ellie. The only thing separating them were the bars of the cage. "I– Look what’s happened. Think of what we could do together, as strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people. Imagine the life we could give them. Imagine the life we could build." Then David gently wrapped his hands around Ellie's.

Chills were sent down Ellie's spine as she turned a ghostly white. "Oh," Ellie muttered. She hesitantly looked up at David as his finger began to rub against the skin of her hand. The shock on Ellie's face was wiped clean and replaced with a deadly snarl. She grabbed David's finger and pulled. She pulled until she heard that snap.

"Ah, ah!" David screamed and pulled his arm back, but Ellie wasn't done. She would break every bone in his hand and then move to his arm until David was a pool of shattered bones. She yanked his arm back, but David was too strong. With one swift pull, he freed his hand and pulled Ellie into the poles of her prison.

Ellie fell to the floor, clutching her bleeding nose. Her fingers gently pressed against the ridge of her nose. It wasn't broken. She knew what a broken nose felt like. After all, she had broken Piper's.

"You little cunt," David cursed, clutching his broken fingers. "Let’s see what I go tell the others now. Let's see what I tell them about your sister and friend."

"Ellie," Ellie said through the blood and pain. It trickled down from her nose and into her mouth.

"What?" David lowly asked, turning away from the door.

"Tell them," Ellie began, "that Ellie is the little girl who broke your fucking finger!"

David stood stunned as he took in Ellie's appearance. Her face was bloodied and filled with raw rage. Biting his tongue, David glowered at Ellie. "How did you put it? Hmm? “Tiny little pieces”?" Then David was gone, and Ellie was alone.

She was alone, and her strength faded. Her eyes only held fear. She was trapped here with cannibalistic cultists. She only wanted to help Piper. She had heard the gunshot and freaked out. She only did it to save Piper; instead, Ellie led the monster to them. They had Piper. Her panic only multiplied as the image of the ear burned in her brain. They were going to kill her and Piper and who knows what else.

Tears mixed in with the blood that fell from Ellie's face. It was her fault. She left Joel alone with those fuckers. She got herself and Piper caught. She was the reason they were going to be killed. If only she had listened. If only she didn't curse everyone around her. Everyone left. No matter how much she clung to them, they'd leave one way or another, and they'd leave because of her. The more Ellie thought about it, maybe she was the reason. After all, she was the reason Henry and Sam died. She couldn't cure him. Hell, she was the reason Tess and Riley died. She was the reason Piper got caught. She was the reason Joel was alone and dying.

Ellie no longer fought the sobs that fled her mouth. She was a curse, and she was alone, utterly alone.

꧁_꧂

Spite filled Piper's being once the doors to her prison flung open. She jumped back as David and James surged into the room. "Welcome back, you fucker. Oh, brought back up. Scared of little old me?"

David ignored her taunting and fumbled with the lock, keeping her cage closed. Piper scoffed and opened her mouth to spill more curses when the door flung open.

David and the other man lunged for her as they reached for her arms and legs. She ducked before slamming the man closest to her into the brick wall. A sweet crack filled the air as the man swung his hands to clutch his broken, bleeding nose.

"Fuck!" he cried before shooting Piper a glare as he jumped back to his feet. He looked at David, and the two nodded before stepping closer to Piper.

With each step they took, Piper took one back. Suddenly, her hands felt the cool metal of the cage. She was cornered. In the blink of an eye, firm hands squeezed her arms. Then, her legs were lifted into the air. Piper screamed.

"Get off of me! Fuck off." She swung her head around, trying to bite anything she could grab, and found James' hand. He bit his tongue as her teeth entered his skin, drawing blood.

"I tried to redeem you," David scolded her as his hands were replaced by another's, the man who shot her in the leg. "To save you in God's eyes, but you're too far gone. The devil has claimed you."

"Fuck you," Piper growled as she flailed around.

"Take her and bring her to the other one," David instructed them. The men nodded and began to drag Piper out of the room. She scratched, screamed, bit, cried, and did anything she could to free herself, but to no avail. They were going to kill her and kill Ellie too. Piper had failed, and now she was going to die.

꧁_꧂

No matter how much pain he was in, Joel had to keep going. It was as if the blood pumping through his veins was replaced with the need to ensure his girls were safe and back in his arms. Even if the wind and snow howled at him and the cold bit his skin, he kept going. He had to save his girls.

Despite the fogginess the whirling snow created, Joel had found the resort. It was huge, buildings lined, what Joel assumed was the road. As he passed, most of them were empty. Glass windows were broken, and dust and snow littered the insides. Yet he continued. His girls had to be safe so he could tell them they were no longer cargo. He needed to tell them his dream and to share it with them. It was vital he found them, and Joel knew if he couldn't, he'd be gone.

It seemed so long ago his only goal was to find Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. The girls were a means to an end to get to Tommy and his family. But fate had a different plan, and the girls stuck around longer than Joel intended. With each horrible joke from Ellie's mouth and eye roll from Piper, Joel found his goal to be changing. Yes, he needed to find Tommy, but most of all, he was searching for his family. He found Tommy and discovered Tommy had a family of his own. With the smiling faces of Maria and his unborn kid, Joel knew Tommy didn't need him anymore, but Joel needed someone.

So, as Joel lay in the dark in the bedroom, he claimed it was his own, and he gazed up to the heavens. The longer his gaze lingered, the denser Joel. What was he looking for in the darkness, staring at the ceiling? He stared that whole night, and as the sun trickled in between the bent plastic blinds, Joel's mind awakened. Joel had his family. They had been with him all along. He'd found them under his gun in a hallway in the QZ. Piper and Ellie became his girls, and most of all, they became his family. Just as quickly as he found them, he lost them as fast. They were taken, trying to protect him and their family.

Clenching his jaw, Joel pushed further into the storm. Leaning his back against the stone wall of one of the buildings, he caught his breath. The wound in his side seared with pain. He quickly checked it for blood. It wasn't bleeding, yet the snow around him was red. With narrowed eyes and careful steps, Joel followed the trail of blood into the building.

He found the door to be unlocked and stepped inside. With his flashlight equipped, he searched the room for any sign of his girls. It didn't take long for him to set sights on the girl's bags tucked underneath a table. He frowned, pushing himself to a stand. The girls were here. The raiders hadn't lied. Making a mental note of the bag's location, Joel pressed forward.

Not one of Joel's steps rang out across the building as he continued his search. His flashlight flickered as it bounced from wall to wall, searching for Ellie and Piper. Suddenly, his light stilled. The beam floated towards the beams in the ceiling. Tied from the beams were three bodies. Their heads were gone, and their skin was paler than white as they dangled from the ceiling.

Joel felt all sense wash away from him. He no longer felt the jabbing pain in his side or the way his lungs heaved air in and out of his lungs. Instead, the purest form of fear entered his body. It infected every inch like a disease, invoking an urge he hadn't felt in twenty years. It was intuitive paternal protection. If it was clear before, Joel had to get his girls out, and he'd do anything to get them back.

꧁_꧂

As the door flung open, Piper's ears were met with the worst sound in the world: Ellie's screaming.

"No! No! No," Ellie screamed as David tried to grab her. With one swipe, he snatched the collar of her shirt, pulling her in. She jabbed her fingers in his face and bit his hand, forcing him to drop her, only to find his boot kicking her down to the ground. Ellie coughed and wheezed as she protected her head from David's attack.

"Get off of me! Get off!" Her violent shakes grew stronger as she tried to free herself from the grasp of her captors. "Ellie!" Piper called out to her sister as David stepped out of her cage, closing the door behind him.

"Shut up!" James yelled at Piper as they dragged her

Ellie pushed her head off the ground, allowing Piper to look at her sister. Blood steadily flowed from Ellie's nose down her face. Scratches littered her sister's once-pale skin. "Piper!" Ellie croaked, raising a hand to reach towards her sister.

Suddenly, there was a thud, and the oxygen in Piper's lungs disappeared. She gasped for air and clenched her fists as James and the other man held her down on the table.

Ellie began to scream again. The words were incoherent in Piper's mind as the assailant from before squeezed her bullet wound. With a knowing smile, he watched as Piper jerked around in pain.

A silver glint appeared. A hand was placed beside her head. Above her stood David with a cleaver raised.

Air fled back into Piper's lungs. "Wait, wait!" She pleaded, shaking her body even more.

"Shut up!" James yelled again.

"Hold her still," David commanded as he steadied the blade above Piper's neck. Her eyes widened as the fight began to drain from her body. She was going to die. She knew it, and after she was dead, they were going to kill Ellie. Piper had failed. She had failed Ellie.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait! Don’t! Don’t do it!" Ellie cried out. She clung to the chain link fence and shook it. "Please, don’t do it! Please, don’t! Don’t!"

"You had your chance," David reminded her.

Ellie's breath escaped her lungs faster than her heartbeat. "We're infected!" She exclaimed. "We're infected. Both of us!"

James scoffed and then glanced down at Piper. He froze. His grip weakened as the sight sank deep into his mind. It was a bite mark. Piper had been bitten. Ellie also flashed her bite mark in her cage, lulling James' eyes to her wound.

The room grew quiet as James looked to the other men for guidance. His hand was still bleeding from when Piper had bitten him.

"And now, so are you," Piper chuckled. "What did you say? Everything happens for a reason, right?"

"David," James whispered, but David didn't hear him over the sound of his own heart beating in his ears. Ellie had bitten him. She was infected. Both of the girls were infected.

Shaking his head, David began to pray and not the scripted bullshit he continuously repeated for his flock. For the first time, he began to truly pray to the God he always preached about. "No. No, they would’ve turned by now." He tried to assure himself and James. "This isn’t real."

"It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me," James cried.

The other man released his grip on Piper. His feet failed him as he stumbled away from the table, checking his skin. There wasn't a bite mark. He was safe. He glanced between James and David.

"You're infected. You-"

"Now, Peter," David began calming the man down.

"You're infected," Peter gasped before running out the doors.

Piper grinned, seeing her chance, and flung herself off the table at David, knocking the knife out of his hand and forcing him to the ground. Jumping up, she scrambled to open Ellie's cage. With swift hands, she swung it open and pulled her sister out.

"Ellie! Run!" Piper yelled, shoving her sister out the door. Ellie listened this time, and this time, she regretted what she did.

Once the door settled, James retrieved the cleaver and pounced on Piper. She grunted as they toppled to the ground.

"I've got her!" James yelled to David. "Go!" With another word, David ran after Ellie.

Piper screamed and thrashed as she watched David chase after her sister. But there was nothing she could do. James sat above her, forcing the cleaver down closer and closer to her neck. Yet Piper fought. Her arms shook as they pushed against James' weight. Her eyes began to darken, and her heart thundered. Despite her efforts, the cleaver came closer. Tears formed in her eyes as she kicked her legs. She was going to die.

The silver blade shined in the faint light of the sun as it sliced her face. From her right eyebrow to cheek, her face burned. It was a scalding, searing pain as she felt warm blood trickle down her face. She pushed back, but the blade sunk deeper and deeper. Her dark eyes widened as the blade's fine edge hovered above her eye.

In one last effort to force James off of her, Piper gritted her teeth and screamed as she kicked him in between his legs. His eyes bulged, and his grip loosened. Turning his force against him, she swung the blade into her hands. The silver blade shone no longer as blood splattered over the walls, onto the floor, and Piper.

The blade never clattered to the ground as Piper pulled it back and drove it deeper into James' neck, except it wasn't James she saw, with his blue eyes and scraggly beard. Instead, she saw a face that only haunted her nightmares: Levi. She swung and swung until her hands were drenched in red. Her tears stung as the blade finally clattered to the floor. It was then Piper realized the room was darker than it was before. Clouds of gray and black filled the air.

Tilting her head, her eyes followed the trail. It was smoke, and it came from beyond the doors. That's where Ellie had run. Piper's heart clenched, and she grabbed her chest, wincing in pain. Ellie, she thought. She had to get Ellie. She had to save Ellie. Piper pushed herself to her feet. Her eyesight grew muddier as blood continued to flow into her eyes. She tried blinking it away, but her face spasmed in pain. It was as if the pain on her face caused a chain reaction; Her leg buckled from underneath her, bringing her to the floor. Instead of a hand touching the door handle, it was her head. Piper's head hit the floor with a smash, and her world grew black.

The darkness was a sweet relief from the pain and fear. There was no monster hovering above her. In the darkness, she was a kid again, safe in her room with her sister tucked beside her. She could dream in the dark. She could dream of that farm with the sheep and her family sitting beside her. Anything was possible in the darkness, so Piper sank deeper into the darkness.

꧁_꧂

EXTREME TRIGGER WARNING IN THIS SECTION! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Ellie ran. Piper had told her to do so, and she ran. The doors she opened only seemed to end in more doors. Twirling around, she searched for anything to protect herself with just in case it wasn't Piper who came after her. She was in a kitchen now. Knives hung from the walls, too high up for Ellie to reach. If she had time, she'd grab them, but time was not on Ellie's side. A glint of red and orange from beneath the stove caught her eye. It was the remnants of a fire still lingering on a chunk of wood. Without much thought, she snatched it and ran through the next pair of doors.

Wood and shades of red clashed together as the new room appeared. Seats, tables, and benches were everywhere. Ellie darted between the tables for the glass door, for freedom. When she reached the door and pushed, it didn't budge. It was locked. Cursing, Ellie whipped her head around. She had to hide until she could get out or until Piper found her.

Hiding behind a wooden wall, Ellie crouched down and caught her breath. Her ears listened for any sign of Piper or an oncoming assailant. There was a deafening creak as the doors swung on their hinges. The footsteps Ellie heard following were heavy and frantic. This wasn't Piper. Holding her breath, Ellie waited until the footsteps were a few paces away before she jumped out. With all her strength, Ellie threw the stick. It flew towards David, who ducked out of the way. The stick landed underneath a window. The remaining fire flew onto the curtains, swarming the fabric with desperate flames.

The fire grew upwards, reaching the ceiling before spreading over the chairs and benches. Crackles came from the fire as it consumed everything around it.

"There’s no way out, Ellie," David said as he stalked around the dining hall. His steps were calculated as he peered under each table for Ellie. "The doors are locked. And I have the keys. Ellie?" David cooed. "Ellie!"

From underneath a nearby table, Ellie squeezed her body tighter. She needed to be invisible until Piper came. Ellie knew Piper would save her from David. After all, her sister had made a promise.

"Ellie…" David called out as he continued his hunt. "I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive. So… how did you two do it? What’s the secret? Or are you girls just that fucking special?"

The roaring fire had consumed most of the building. Clouds of smoke soared from the flames, filling the air. Ellie's lungs tensed as the black mist threatened to enter them. She crept deeper into her hiding place, covering her mouth to stifle any coughs.

"No one likes being humiliated, Ellie. You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could’ve given you! If you had just let me!" David's search grew more frantic as he searched for Ellie.

Meanwhile, the young girl darted from spot to spot until she crept behind the bar. With shaking hands, she picked up a steak knife and held it close, ready to strike if needed. Sweat clung to her skin, and worry filled her mind. Where was Piper?

Suddenly, an ear-piercing scream erupted from the back room. Ellie shuddered and slapped her free hand over her mouth. It was Piper. The scream seemed to last an eternity before the sound was abruptly silenced. Ellie whimpered as the blaring quiet filled her ears.

"Did you hear that Ellie? That was the sound of your sister dying. She has failed you. I won't fail you. I never will if you'll let me!" David yelled with a gleeful smile on his face. From her hiding spot, Ellie began to cry. Piper wasn't coming to save her.

"Ellie," David taunted as his steps grew closer to Ellie's hiding place. "I have news for you. Neither one of us is dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father. So I’m gonna keep you… and I’m gonna teach you. Ellie. Ellie…"

With tears and blood adorning her face, Ellie crept out of her hiding place. David's back was turned to the raging fires. Instantly, Ellie lunged and stabbed the steak knife into David's side as he turned and swung the cleaver at her. She ducked before tripping over her feet and bringing herself to the floor.

Above her, David groaned as he pulled the knife out of his side. "Ah, fuck," he cursed, clutching his side. He pulled back his hand, which was dripping blood. Biting his lips, his venomous eyes trailed over Ellie as she crawled along the floor. Her hands desperately reached for the cleaver David had dropped in their struggle. He took a step before swinging his leg into her stomach. He kicked and kicked, forcing a grunt of pain to escape from Ellie's mouth.

When she turned on her back, he pounced. His hands flew to hers, forcefully holding her down as he sat down on her legs, keeping them still. Ellie screamed as she thrashed around. David leaned in close, and Ellie spit. Pulling back, David chuckled; "Oh. I thought you already knew. The fighting is the part I like the most."

Ellie screamed as loud as she could. It was a call for anyone willing to save her. She begged that it reached her sister's ears, so that just maybe, Piper would awake from the dead to rescue her. But the dead don't return that quickly. Next, she screamed for Joel, who lay dying in the basement. Maybe he'd be able to hear her call and save her. Someone had to come for Ellie. Someone. Anyone.

"Don’t be afraid," David soothed as Ellie continued to scream. “There’s no fear in love.”

As David released one of her hands to reach downward, Ellie reached. No one was coming to save her. Piper was gone. She risked her life for Ellie's escape. Joel wasn't here. No one would save her, so she had to save herself. Her finger brushed against the handle of the cleaver. Pulling it down, she grasped the handle and, with all her might, swung it down onto David's neck.

David fell back, struggling to stop the blood from falling from his body. Gurgles escaped his mouth when he tried to speak, but Ellie wasn't listening. She was saving herself. She brought it down repeatedly with her hands clinging tightly to the cleaver. As the blade cut deeper into David's face and body, Ellie cried. She cried for her loss: her sister, her childhood, Joel, Tess, Riley, Henry and Sam. No one came to save her, and Ellie was alone.

The fire raged on as curtains fell into piles of ash. The wooden walls and ceilings turned dark as the flames consumed them. Hovering David's body, the orange and red blaze reached out to Ellie. The heat was trying to comfort her mourning heart. Stumbling to her feet, Ellie brushed the gentle flames aside and headed towards the door's light. With bloody and trembling hands, she placed the key into the lock and stepped out into the bitter cold.

Smoke trickled out as the door opened. Her body shivered, and her feet sluggishly wobbled in the snow. She had nothing now. There was no Joel and Piper. Her coat and bag were stolen from her when she arrived. The only thing she had was herself. In a daze, she shuffled forward deeper into the snowstorm.

Suddenly, a pair of large dark hands flew onto her shoulders. Ellie screamed and flailed her arms around. "No! Get off of me! Get off!" She pleaded.

"Ellie," a deep, gentle voice uttered. "It’s me."

"Get–" Ellie yelled as the hands turned her around.

"Ellie," the voice repeated her name and a soft hand cupped her cheeks. "It’s me."

The fog from her dark eyes faded to reveal Joel. His face was all pinched up as he looked at her. His brown eyes welcomed her in and told her she was safe. Someone had come for her. Ellie wasn't alone. Joel had found her.

"Hey…," Joel said. "Look, It’s me… It’s me. It’s okay." He brushed some of the hairs from her face away.

"He-," Ellie began to mumble.

Joel nodded and gently pulled her into his warm embrace. She didn't hesitate to place her head on his chest and allow the tears to come. Joel had come for her. "It’s okay. It’s okay, baby girl. I got you," He soothed as his hands rubbed along her back. Closing his eyes, he rested his chin against her head. Ellie was safe. He only had one more daughter to find.

"Where's Piper?" He asked and immediately felt Ellie's legs grow weak. His grip tightened as he held her up.

Choking on her sobs, Ellie peered up at Joel. "She-she's," Ellie's voice shook. "I heard her scream. It was so loud. Joel, she's-"

"Okay," Joel said as he looked at the building Ellie had emerged from. "Ellie, I need you to come with me. We need to fi-"

The shrieking sound of glass shattering filled the air. Smoke tumbled out from the side of the building, pulling Joel and Ellie's attention. What they heard next was quiet. It was a plea for help. It was Piper.

꧁_꧂

Pain. It's all Piper felt once her eyes opened. The room was as dark as her unconsciousness had been. Piper's lungs heaved as they remembered to breathe, only finding nothing to take in except for dark, heavy smoke. As coughs erupted from her chest, Piper felt her body grow weaker than it had ever been before. The temptation to fall back into the darkness grew too much. It had been so welcoming and peaceful, but the darkness couldn't give her everything. The darkness couldn't hold Ellie and Joel.

She placed her hands in the sticky pool of blood that had seeped out of her and pushed herself to a stand. Her hand instinctively covered her mouth as she opened the door she had seen Ellie run out of. As the metal doors opened, a roaring fire was ready to greet her. Quickly, she closed the door and turned around for a new escape.

Above her, a faint light seeped through the dark fog of black. She limped over to the countertops and pulled herself atop them. She prayed Ellie made it out and ran. It was the only thing keeping her going. If Ellie was gone, she might as well sink back into the fire and smoke and return to the darkness.

Standing tall, Piper reached her hands into the air. Her scorched and bloodied fingers felt the cold glass windows. She banged against them, fighting the smoke that forced its way down into her lungs. The windows refused to open. She grew more desperate with each hit. She had to get out. She wanted to live. She needed to find Ellie and Joel.

A glint shone through the darkness. A metal rolling pin glimmered. Piper dragged her feet along to grasp it. Her arms dropped down from the weight. This would break the glass, Piper thought as she lugged it back to the window. She raised it and swung. The metal thudded against the glass. She swung again. The glass cracked. Swinging one final time, the glass shattered. Using the pin, Piper enlarged the hole so that it was big enough for her to crawl through before dropping the pin to the ground.

Piper's knees buckled beneath her as the rolling pin clattered to the floor, and she fell. She was so tired. Her lungs had given up any fight to inhale only breathable air. Her wounds continued to scream in pain as red liquid soaked her skin. Everything in her body told her to crawl into a ball and welcome the fire. However, her heart and mind sang a different tune. It was a song of freedom. It was her dream.

Struggling to stand, Piper clung to the walls, searching for anything to help her up. She reached to the window and clenched her fingers around the ledge. Her muscles strained against her will to pull herself out. Glass dug into the palms of her hand as she forced herself off the counter and into the air. Flinging her elbow onto the ledge, she kicked her legs into the air, allowing her second elbow to gain a grip. With both arms on the windowsill, she pushed down, throwing herself through the window.

A cry fled her mouth as she removed her hands and arms from the window. Shards of glass embedded themselves deep into her skin, and even more blood fell from her wounds. Swinging her legs around, Piper jumped. She welcomed the white snow, which immediately turned a dark pink.

Her head rang with a static noise as her world began to spin. Something loud was crying out into the air. She winced, trying to make sense of it.

"Piper!" Joel and Ellie called out. They ran to her fallen body in the snow. Joel's knees fell to the ground as his hands wrapped around her broken body. Worry and guilt filled his being as he took in her torn-up figure. With heavy eyes, Piper looked up at Joel and Ellie. Ellie was in tears as she lunged for her sister, enveloping her in a desperate hug. Meanwhile, Joel took both girls in his large embrace. He held them tight to fight off the biting winter cold.

His daughters were home in his arms. His daughters were alive. His shirt grew wetter the longer they sat in the snow, holding onto each other.

"It's okay," he whispered into their ears. "I've got you. I've got you."

꧁_꧂

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꧁_꧂

[boneapplet]

A Love Born in Blood pt.9

Relationship: Angron x oc/afab!reader

Warnings: lashing out

Word Count: 1102

Requested Tags for All Works: @beckyninja @runin64

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt 10 | pt 11 | pt 12 | pt 13

Unwavering as he spews his venomous words, the space marines remain standing before him.

"They await you, my lord."

Narrowing his eyes, turning away from the men. Mind racing, he’s not ready for this. He doesn’t want this, but the pull grows stronger. For the first time in a long while, something beyond pure rage and defiance grips him. The sense that he must do something. Even if it’s a thing he despises. The anger is still there, a fire burning beneath his skin, but it now carries something else—a sense of purpose.

“I don’t need your loyalty,” Angron mutters, almost to himself.

He turns, walking out of the sterile cell and into the hallway where the Custodians still stand. The air feels colder here, like the whole ship is one giant, relentless machine. There’s no warmth. No life. Just the hum of the engines, the cold press of his thoughts, and the feeling that he’s being pushed into something he cannot escape.

Moving through the corridors like a ghost, the Custodians at his side, and the Marines trailing silently behind. The warships are massive, but it's the sterile quiet that unsettles him most. Everything feels wrong. Everything feels empty.

Glancing around as he’s led into a large, open chamber. His War Hounds stand waiting, some are standing at attention, others at ease, but all of them are silent. They are warriors, loyal, and ready. Angron sees them. These are his warriors, but they aren't his brothers nor are these his sons. They are only shadows of what he was. The noise of the gladiatorial pits is gone. The scent of the blood-soaked arena is a distant memory. These men are a different breed. And somehow... they are a part of him, but not in the way the Emperor promised.

For a moment, he hesitates. Standing at the edge of the room, watching them, and something flickers in his mind—a flash of recognition. He knows these faces, these bodies. The strength, the raw potential, the brutality. Yet... he knows nothing about them. They are not his men. They are just more tools in the Emperor’s grand design. They are his to lead, but will he lead them?

The quiet stretches on for what feels like forever, before a Marine steps forward, his power armor gleaming under the harsh lights of the chamber. His voice is calm, but there's a strength in it.

"My lord, we are ready for you."

Angron feels the pull again, but this time it’s stronger. The Nails scream, but he forces them back, pushing them down beneath the surface. Stepping forward, fists clenched, meeting the eyes of his Legion.

“I’ll lead you,” he says, his voice low, almost to himself. “But I don’t have to like it.”

Angron is ushered away after the tense meeting with his Legion. The ship that once felt like a cold, mechanical prison now holds something else—the promise of a new body. The Emperor has brought him back to life in a way, yes, but also altered his very form to make him the being he was always meant to be. A Primarch.

Being led down the hallways of the ship, his feet feel heavier, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and anger. The Custodians guide him, their steps silent and assured. They’re taking him to the armory, the space where his new form will be finalized. As much as he hates the process, there’s no escaping it—he needs this armor to survive in the Imperium, to command his Legion. But the thought of it fills him with more rage. He doesn't need this... this artifice.

The armory is vast, walls lined with racks of power armor, weapons, and tools that could forge a thousand legends. And there, at the heart of the chamber, stands a massive frame, the bones of a suit designed for a Primarch’s mighty form.

The process is meticulous and painful. Standing half-naked beneath harsh forge-light, skin still marked by the lashes and scars of Nuceria. As the armor is slowly fitted to his body, the weight of it feels oppressive, a constant reminder of everything he’s now expected to become. He can feel the fit and pressure of the armor pressing into his body—each part, each clasp, pulling him closer into the Emperor's vision of him.

Mechanicum adepts circle him like carrion, droning incantations and litanies as servo-arms descend. His new armor is massive, shaped for a demigod—deep crimson plates trimmed in iron, inscribed with war-script. They call it a gift. He sees only another layer of control.

As they apply the finishing touches to the suit, Angron can feel the latent power in the armor, but he also feels the disconnect. This is not his world. This is not his body. He’s being shaped into something, and he can’t see himself in the image they want. Clamps hissing as ceramite locks into place. The helmet waits last. Staring at it for a while—the face of the warrior he’s expected to become.

“What do you name this?” he asks flatly.

A Tech-Priest clicks out “Angron-pattern Artificer Plate. Custom-forged for the Eighteenth Primarch.”

He doesn’t correct them, doesn’t say what’s obvious to him. He didn’t forge this. They did. As the final touches are made, they all step back to allow him to allow him room for his first steps. Steps awkward at first as he adjusts, each step feeling almost unnerving at the artificial lightness of the hulking armor.

Once his movements became steady, they usher him to another room. Allowing him no time to further adjust, his minor progress being deemed within acceptable parameters. Lights dimming as projections appear at the center of the room. Hololithic projections dance in the air: thirteen faces suspended in flickering blue—each of them his kin.

The Emperor’s voice, recorded and unflinching, speaks over the display “These are your brothers. Like you, they are Primarchs. Each commands a Legion. Together, you will reunite the stars.”

Various names are listed. Horus. Russ. Dorn. Fulgrim. Mortarion. Curze. Lorgar. One after another. He watches the flickering image of Horus with a curled lip—too handsome, too polished. Russ looks like a brute. Curze, a corpse. Lorgar, a priest. And Vulkan… Vulkan looks almost kind. He hates that most of all.

The Emperor's voice continues “You will meet them. Learn from them. Grow with them. And you will lead your sons to war.”

I didn’t choose this, he thinks. They keep saying I will understand. But all I see are new cages, forged in gold instead of iron.

[doomtrooper77]

The door down the hall was also made of heavy steel and was built almost like a bank vault. It was cracked open, and I could see the glow of fluorescent light coming through the crack. Although the door was heavy, it opened smoothly. I walked into another vaulting warehouse space. This one was full of rows upon rows upon rows of weapons. It was like walking into a Costco, but just for guns and weapons of every sort. Racks going all the way up to the ceiling of crates made of wood, some of molded plastic, and others of metal lined each level of racking around me.

The racking was configured so that a path led into the back of the warehouse. I followed it. When I reached the end of the path, there was an area of worktables, machinery, and tools. Sitting beside the table was a massive man with a buzz-cut and thick beard. His arms were covered in tattoos, and he was the size of a fucking Mac truck. The other guys he had met were huge, but this man was massive. His eyes looked at me from under heavy brows. Bright like steel, they looked right through me.  In his hand was a machine gun of some type I had never seen before. Well, that told me I was in the right place. It wasn’t pointed at me, but something told me it could be in a microsecond if I said or did the wrong thing.

I walked over to him and said, “I guess you are the guy I am looking for, Mr.” He said nothing and kept looking at me. “Okay, I was told that you were the guy who could provide me with some specialty equipment that I need,” I continued. He still didn’t say anything and just kept looking at me. I was getting nervous now. My hand twitched to move toward the button, but I pushed that feeling down. I needed more evidence.  I needed to get him to talk. We both stood there in silence for another 30 seconds, and I said, “Listen, if you guys don’t want to do business, show me the door, and I can get out of here. If you are turning away money, then that’s cool with me. I will find someone else who can give me what I need. I just heard you were the man to talk to for things like this. Professional with quality goods.”

Again, silence until he said, “Who sent you, and what are you looking for?”  I gave him the name of the informant gave us and just enough background on the guy to make it seem legitimate. I hoped. He nodded slowly and said, “What are you looking for?”  Ice broken, I ran off a list of things we “needed”.  There were some esoteric things on the list that we hoped he had because it would put him and the rest of them in prison for the rest of their lives.  Again, he nodded and said, “I’ve got that. But ah, what do you need all that for?” 

Okay, this is not an unusual question, but “Listen, Mr.?? Like you, we have our own need for discretion. I’m told that all the gear you sell is untraceable, which is part of why you get paid extra. It’s why I am here, your rep is that you can desperately supply damn near anything a man can need from a weapons standpoint.” I said. He nodded sagely again. It was when I heard footsteps coming down one of the isles of the racking.

A middle-aged man came into view with a tablet in his hands. He was beefy but not like these guys. He stood around 6’1" and had a belly, but his shoulders were broad, and his arms were thick and hard. He looked like your office type of guy who worked out—a guy who wrestled in high school but got a bit soft around the middle. He looked at me as he walked over to the “Boss,” leaned over, and whispered in his ear.  I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could see the Bosses eyes. Those hard eyes did two things: they went ice cold, and an evil glint twinkled in them. His bearded mouth smirked. The guy with the tablet reached into his back pocket and pulled out a clear bag wrapped around a mesh of wire. Oh shit. I could see my phone in the bag, a Faraday bag. My hand went to the 4th button on my shirt and started tapping It discretely.

“How long do you think it will take them to get here?” the Boss asked. He looked at me with a smile that did not reach his eyes. My finger was pressing against the button now, not trying to hide it. “What are you talking about? “I said, trying to keep my voice even. He stood up then, and I could see he was about 6’6” and seemed to be damn near that wide. I took an involuntary step back and bumped into something, make that someone. I started to turn when two massive pairs of hands grabbed my arms and held me in place—the two guards from out front were behind me and holding me in their vice-like grip. The Boss's smile became a grin as he walked toward me.

I sputtered and said a bunch of things that did nothing in the long run. When he stood in front of me, it was like being in the shadow of a giant monolith. Everything seemed small around him—insignificant.  He simply said, “Shhhhhh!” to me, and I quieted.

Turning to the guy with the tablet, he said, “Which one is it?” The tablet tech guy stepped in front, looked me up and down, and stopped at the buttons on the shirt. From somewhere, the tech guy pulled out a big folding knife and snapped it open. I jumped and tried to pull back. The hands holding me tightened painfully on my arms, shoulder, and neck, lifting me to my toes. The beefy tech expertly moves the knife to slide under the 3rd and 4th buttons on my shirt, slicing them off into his hand. Looking at them closely, he turned to the Boss and said, “Camera and emergency transmitter. They look like something Mossad made last year. It's pretty good tech. Not as good as ours, but pretty damn good. We’ve been blocking the signals since he got in the van. The camera is running on local storage since he came into the bar.  As far as they can tell, he disappeared when he left the bar. I’ve been retransmitting a false signal west of the city; they should be trailing him out past Naperville and Westmont about now. “

The massive man smiled genuinely and clapped the tech on his shoulder. “Good job as per usual Al. Lead the signal out toward the compound in western Iowa. You know, those wingnut survivalists the FBI is always looking at. Make it end there for now.”  The tech guy started to walk away, and the Boss said, “Wait, keep this with those.” He lifted the Faraday bag my phone was in, and I watched his gloved hand crumple the metal like it was a beer can. He crushed it once, then casually twisting it in his hand, crushed it again until it resembled a ragged ball of steel and glass.  He handed the bag and demolished phone to Al the tech.

Turning back to me, he leaned over and said, “Listen, I don’t have time to listen to your lies and denials. Then threats. Not only does nobody know you’re here, but they don’t even know who took you. Al will lead them on a nice little electronic goose chase through western Iowa, where they will raid that right-wing survivalist fuckers. When they don’t find you there, your handlers will be at a dead in.”

His big, gloved hand engulfed my chin, and he moved closer, “Right now, my boys here are going to have some fun. They like to pay with their food. Eventually you’ll tell them what I need to know.”  He said. The massive men holding him grunted in agreement. He pulled back with a dangerous smirk, and his big gloved hand patted my face roughly as he turned and walked back over to the bench.

The guy holding me shifted and the one on my left quickly slid his arms under mine and put me in a full nelson. The other guy walked around in front of me and, after rolling his shoulders, slammed his fist into my gut. Then again and again. The guy holding me pulled me up, and I could see the Boss back at his worktable and the Tech guy looking at me. His eyes were watching with lust and need as those guys were working me over. The Boss absently looked up and said, “Fellas, take your fun elsewhere. I’ve got work to do. They replied, “Sure thing, Boss.”  They started dragging me away when the Boss said, “Boys, it’s been a while, so, take your time and enjoy yourselves. Also, take Al with you; you know he likes to watch.”  All three of them said, “Thanks, Boss,” in unison as they dragged me away.

[belit0]

pt 2 to house chores (sorry i hit send too soon 🫣)

would they be all "challenge accepted i got this" or "fuck no im hiring someone 4 that"

Modern Mafia AU for the rest of these idiots because it's fun to involve technology

Indra – the sink disaster

The pipe under the kitchen sink bursts.

Water starts pooling beneath the cabinets.

Ivy’s away, the twins are yelling about a water war, and Ame is walking around barefoot.

Indra walks in, eyes narrowing.

-Move aside.

He rolls his sleeves up and ducks under the sink like a war general surveying the field.

Tools are already in his hand.

He doesn’t complain.

He doesn’t sigh.

He just fixes it.

Fifteen minutes later, the pipe is sealed with surgical precision, the cabinet is wiped dry, and the twins have been sent to mop the rest of the floor as punishment for “encouraging chaos.”

As he tightens the final screw, Raizen lingers in the doorway.

-You should've called someone. That's not your job.

-Everything in this house is my job.- Indra mutters, wiping his hands on a towel.

He doesn’t say it, but Ivy’s kitchen is sacred.

If it breaks, he fixes it.

Period.

Obito – Yard War

Obito’s house has a small backyard.

He rarely uses it—until the HOA sends him a passive-aggressive letter: “Weeds over regulation height. Please address.”

-The hell is a regulation weed?

He tries to mow the lawn with an ancient, rusting lawnmower he finds in the shed.

It sputters once.

Twice.

Dies.

-Fine. Fuck you too.

He attacks the weeds with a kitchen knife, a beer in his other hand.

Neighbors peek over fences.

A child cries somewhere.

Obito ends up shirtless, covered in grass, dirt on his face, declaring war on a particularly stubborn dandelion.

He does finish the job, but only out of spite.

The yard is lopsided.

Half the grass is dead.

He proudly takes a picture and sends it to the HOA anyway, middle finger up.

Two days later, a landscaper shows up.

-Courtesy of your neighbor, Uchiha Itachi,- the man says.

Obito doesn’t speak to Itachi for a week.

Shisui – closet crisis

Shisui’s house is minimalist on the outside, but inside it's a curated mess of clothes.

He’s good-looking and knows it, with a walk-in closet full of statement pieces.

The problem?

The closet rail holding all his jackets collapses with a loud crack at 7 a.m.

-No, no, no, no, no…- he mutters, staring at a mountain of black and leather on the floor.

He squats beside it like he’s at a funeral.

Instead of calling someone, he decides he’s got this.

Shisui goes full DIY mode—YouTube tutorials, power drill, motivational playlist.

He wears sunglasses indoors while fixing it.

At some point he ends up shirtless, holding the drill wrong, FaceTiming Itachi just to show him the screw he finally got in.

-That’s the wrong wall, cousin.

He stares.

-...That explains the breeze.

Three holes later, he gives up and calls the professional.

But insists on finishing the closet lighting himself.

It flickers every time you open the door, like a nightclub.

He likes it that way.

Itachi – tech meltdown

Itachi’s house is sleek. Immaculate.

Every device is smart—lights, thermostat, security, even the coffee machine.

Until the system glitches after a storm.

Lights start flickering.

Music plays at random.

The security app keeps telling him someone is at the front door—when no one is.

Itachi stands in the hallway at midnight, illuminated by red emergency LEDs, listening to Alexa whisper, “I'm always watching.”

He doesn’t flinch.

He opens his laptop.

Two hours later, he’s writing code in silence, hoodie on, classical music playing in the background.

Obito would’ve called tech support.

Shisui would’ve thrown the system out the window.

Itachi?

He rewires the entire system, renames the AI, programs it to stop responding to voice commands unless it hears his exact tone.

When the power stabilizes, everything works flawlessly again.

And just for good measure, he adds facial recognition to the front camera.

Shisui tries to prank him the next week.

The door won’t open.

[parcai]

here is ur extracurricular reading:

He led them across the hangar floor, carefully skirting some of his more dangerous projects. In his two months at Camp Half-Blood, Leo had spent most of his time at Bunker 9. After all, he’d rediscovered the secret workshop. Now it was like a second home to him. But he knew his friends still felt uncomfortable here. He couldn’t blame them.

Built into the side of a limestone cliff deep in the woods, the bunker was part weapons depot, part machine shop, and part underground safe house, with a little bit of Area 51–style craziness thrown in for good measure. Rows of workbenches stretched into the darkness. Tool cabinets, storage closets, cages full of welding equipment, and stacks of construction material made a labyrinth of aisles so vast, Leo figured he’d only explored about ten percent of it so far. Overhead ran a series of catwalks and pneumatic tubes for delivering supplies, plus a high-tech lighting and sound system that Leo was just starting to figure out. A large magical banner hung over the center of the production floor. Leo had recently discovered how to change the display, like the Times Square JumboTron, so now the banner read: Merry Christmas! All your presents belong to Leo!

...

She ran to the nearest ladder and began to climb while Leo raced off down the aisles, snatching things from tool chests and supply cabinets. He grabbed machine parts and wires. He threw switches and activated time-delay sensors on the bunker’s interior control panels. He didn’t think about what he was doing any more than a pianist thinks about where his fingers are landing on the keyboard. He just flew through the bunker, bringing all the pieces together.

...

“Oh, yeah!” Leo looked up and shouted to the catwalks: “Piper? It’s time to crank things up!” For three incredibly long seconds, nothing happened. Leo just stood there grinning at a dozen frenzied nymphs who wanted to dice him into bite-sized demigod cubes. Then the whole bunker whirred to life. All around the Maenads, pipes rose from the floor and blew purple steam. The pneumatic tube system spit out metal shavings like glittered confetti. The magic banner above them shimmered and changed to read WELCOME, PSYCHO NYMPHS ! Music blared from the sound system—the Rolling Stones, Leo’s mom’s favorite band.

...

Argus nodded. He gestured to one of the Hephaestus campers, who drove a forklift over and loaded up the cage.

^^^ Demigod Diaries

hmm. thank you 👍 this does not fit my draft at all LOL but i enjoy it more in this context. just saying it's like a concrete jungle felt weird to me as i always imagined it so full of life, + i thought it to fit the woodsiness of its location. i will ponder more on this later

[whencyclopedia]

The Impact of the British Industrial Revolution

The consequences of the British Industrial Revolution (1760-1840) were many, varied, and long-lasting. Working life in rural and urban settings was changed forever by the inventions of new machines, the spread of factories, and the decline of traditional occupations. Developments in transportation and communications meant life in the post-industrial world was more exciting and faster, with people more connected than ever before. Consumer goods became more affordable to more people, and there were more jobs for a booming population. The price to pay for progress was often a working life that was noisy, repetitive, and dangerous, while cities grew to become overcrowded, polluted, and crime-ridden.

The impact of the Industrial Revolution included:

Many new machines were invented that could do things much faster than previously or could perform entirely new tasks.

Steam power was cheaper, more reliable, and faster than more traditional power sources.

Large factories were established, creating jobs and a boom in cotton textile production, in particular.

Large engineering projects became possible like iron bridges and viaducts.

Traditional industries like hand weaving and businesses connected to stagecoaches went into terminal decline.

The cost of food and consumer goods was reduced as items were mass-produced and transportation costs decreased.

Better tools became available for manufacturers and farmers.

The coal, iron, and steel industries boomed to provide fuel and raw materials for machines to work.

The canal system was expanded but then declined.

Urbanisation accelerated as labour became concentrated around factories in towns and cities.

Cheap train travel became a possibility for all.

Demand for skilled labour, especially in textiles, decreased.

Demand for unskilled labour to operate machines and work on the railways increased.

The use of child and women labour increased.

Worker safety declined and was not reversed until the 1830s.

Trade unions were formed to protect workers' rights.

The success of mechanisation led to other countries experiencing their own industrial revolutions.

Coal Mining

Mining of tin and coal has a long history in Britain, but the arrival of the Industrial Revolution saw unprecedented activity underground to find the fuel to feed the steam-powered machines that came to dominate industry and transport. The steam-powered pump was invented to drain mines in 1712. This allowed deeper mining and so greatly increased coal production. The Watt steam engine, patented in 1769, allowed steam power to be harnessed for almost anything, and as the steam engines ran on coal, so the mining industry boomed as mechanisation swept across industries of all kinds. This phenomenon only increased with the spread of the railways from 1825 and the increase in steam-powered ships from the 1840s. Coal gas, meanwhile, was used for lighting homes and streets from 1812, and as a source of heat for private homes and cookers. Coke, that is burnt coal, was used as a fuel in the iron and steel industries, and so the demand for coal kept on growing as the Industrial Revolution rolled on.

There were four principal coal mining areas: South Wales, southern Scotland, Lancashire, and Northumberland. To get the coal to where it was needed, Britain's canal system was significantly expanded as transportation by canal was 50% cheaper than using roads. By 1830, "England and Wales had 3,876 miles in 1760" (Horn, 17). Britain produced annually just 2.5 to 3 million tons of coal in 1700, but by 1900, this figure had rocketed to 224 million tons.

Continue reading...

[howlsofbloodhounds]

So I was thinking about character design with Delta and how he shares his body with a child, and how that might effect his appearance, especially as Beta and Delta get better at sharing control or giving away control.

And maybe also Delta allows them to modify the body somewhat to be able to express themself and also as a way to have some control/be able to have some proof of existence. As recommended by their therapist maybe.

Like, Beta might add vibrant and playful accessories to their shared attire. This could include items like colorful wristbands, bright shoelaces, or even fun stickers on Delta's gear.

Beta could influence the choice of clothing to include more playful elements. This might manifest as patches or badges on Delta's jackets or pants that represent Beta's interests, such as animals, favorite characters, or symbols of bravery and adventure.

Beta might personalize their shared items with small, personal touches. For instance, they could draw or embroider small designs on their clothing or equipment, adding a sense of individuality and creativity.

Since Beta is a child, they might introduce comfort items into their wardrobe, like a favorite scarf, a beanie, or even a small, soft toy that can be tucked into a pocket or backpack for a sense of security and familiarity.

While Delta's color scheme might be predominantly black and orange, Beta could influence the incorporation of more vibrant colors into their shared outfits. This could be through colorful socks, a bright undershirt, or a vividly patterned bandana.

Beta's influence could also be seen in the choice of patterns and designs on their clothing. They might prefer more whimsical and youthful patterns, such as stars, stripes, or cartoon characters, adding a lighter and more playful touch to their attire.

Given their resourcefulness, Beta might enjoy making DIY modifications to their clothing and gear. This could include painting designs on their sneakers, adding homemade friendship bracelets, or creating custom patches for their jacket.

Beta's interests and hobbies could be reflected in their shared fashion. If Beta is interested in certain games, shows, or hobbies, they might incorporate related items or symbols into their wardrobe, such as a hat with a favorite character or a shirt with a fun graphic.

I was thinking, given Delta's hyperfixations in mechanical and technological engineering, how he could incorporate various items and symbols that reflect these interests into his outfits.

Like he might wear clothing with gear, circuit, or schematic patterns. This could include shirts, jackets, or even accessories like hats and scarves featuring these designs.

He could have accessories that resemble or are made from actual tech components. For instance, a necklace made from a small gear or a circuit board, bracelets with resistor beads, or even a watch with visible mechanical parts.

Delta might wear a utility belt or tool holster that holds small tools and gadgets. This could include a mini screwdriver set, pliers, a multi-tool, or even a small soldering kit, emphasizing his readiness to tinker with things on the go.

Pins or badges with tech symbols, such as a wrench, a gear, or even a microchip, could be added to his clothing. These could be attached to his jacket, hat, or backpack.

A pair of protective goggles, either worn on his head or around his neck, would signify his readiness for mechanical work. The goggles might have a futuristic design or modifications that reflect his engineering skills.

Delta might modify his clothing and accessories to include practical tech elements. For example, a jacket with built-in LED lights, a backpack with solar panels for charging devices, or shoes with hidden compartments for small tools.

He could have clothing items that feature blueprints or diagrams of machines and devices. This could include graphic tees or hoodies with printed designs that look like detailed engineering sketches.

Delta might wear rings, bracelets, or necklaces that have mechanical elements, such as tiny moving parts, gears, or pieces of hardware like nuts and bolts.

Clothing with patches made from different materials, including fabrics that resemble or are inspired by tech components (like kevlar or mesh), could add a unique touch to his style.

Delta might prefer boots or shoes with a rugged, utilitarian design, possibly with extra pockets or compartments for storing small items or tools.

He might carry around small, portable gadgets that reflect his interests, such as a mini drone, a handheld gaming device, or a small robotic companion that he can interact with.

And like. Imagine Beta putting little doggy stickers that look like Zorox all on Delta’s utility belt and the shoes with the colorful laces and the LED light jacket maybe. Or maybe instead of a LED light jacket, Beta just put glow in the dark stars all over it.

And like. Delta needs some convincing to go outside in that, because it is distinctly not manly. But he can feel Beta’s upset, and they start crying, and he doesn’t want them to be upset so he prepares to face the embarrassment.

Only no one really notices, or if they do, they compliment him on his cool as fuck stickers or stars and dog patches.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hours in the Moonlight: Solitary Eventide - 4. Something Strange

Summary: There was something about being shown secret labs that always led to unexpected revelations and nothing could have prepared you for what Ortho told you in the lab. But one thing was already for certain. Ignihyde was going to be a clan with some very unique challenges.

Series Type: Gender-neutral reader/ Vampire AU/ series/ romantic/ angst/ angst with comfort/ fluff/ sfw/ platonic interactions too!

Trigger Warning: Vampire

Word Count: 2159

Hours in the Moonlight Master-List

I swallowed thickly, my eyes darting over to where Ortho floated towards me, looking between me and Idia before he smiled hopefully at me, “So you’ve decided to work together?”

Idia let out a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head slightly and answering as Ortho already began to droop with obvious disappointment, “No.” 

The word was practically groaned out before he stepped around me, glancing my way and huffing out a sigh, “This is where we do our work.”

I felt my eyebrows arch at his words before I looked around the room, fighting against the urge to cringe backwards under the weight of all the hungry-looking stares. But that would only make me look like prey, and that was the last thing I needed.

But this was most certainly a lab. The walls were just as dark as they had been in the other areas I’d been to so far, but the room was filled with white tables that held all sorts of contraptions. And even here, the room was lit with those neon lights that made this place feel like it was straight out of a sci-fi movie save for the Greek-looking symbols that glowed on all the tools that were scattered throughout the lab.

There was also the distinctly clean smell that seemed to only ever be found in scientific areas and made me wonder what, exactly, they’d had to clean up in this room. I could only hope it was nothing too serious.

I swallowed slightly, looking back towards Idia, who now looked out of place in his hoodie. Me and him were the only people here that weren’t in long, dark lab coats that, unlike the usual pristinely white lab coats, could ominously enough hide any stains that might appear on them.

“What is it that you’re working on?” My voice stayed level and lightly casual as I questioned him even though I didn’t actually expect an answer. After all, apparently whatever the Ignihyde clan was working on was being kept a secret.

Sam usually had all sorts of stuff he could tell me about the clans, so the fact he didn’t for this one implied that they were very good at keeping their secrets. 

I would probably be working on uncovering everything this clan hid for quite some time.

“Brother came up with the idea to cure vampires, and that’s what we’ve been working on all this time,” Ortho piped up in a cheerful voice from where he now drifted from machine to machine. Pressing buttons and checking screens as the other vampires in the space slowly went back to their work. 

Glances were furtively shot towards where Idia and I stood. But I was hardly concerned about any of them in light of what Ortho had just said as he’d easily handed me information that I was almost positive was supposed to be a rather large secret.

My eyes were wide as I looked between the little robot and the young man who stood next to me, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, “A cure for vampirism?? Can that even be created?”

My mind almost immediately conjured images of Epel. I didn’t know if any of the other vampires I knew would want to be cured. They all seemed fairly satisfied after all, including Rook. But Epel… he still worried about his family.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I frowned. 

Vampires were known to be undead creatures possessing no heartbeat…. I could only assume from what Silver had told me about the process of turning a human into a vampire that vampirism really was like a disease, or maybe a poison since he’d mentioned feeding a human vampire blood could also result in a change.

If it were a normal disease, then it ought to be remediable, but with vampires already being dead….

My gaze rested on Idia, who only looked my way after a flicker of irritation went through his gaze at Ortho’s words. I could only assume that he hadn’t wanted Ortho to tell me, but now he looked my way with a cold gaze that had me fighting not to take a step back in retreat. 

There was something strange about this man that went beyond him just having flaming hair. 

Initially, he hadn’t seemed like anyone I really needed to be worried about, but the moment my purpose here had become clear, something had shifted. Now he seemed more imposing as he stood before me, all but looming over me.

Before, he’d seemed lanky and like an awkward teen with the way he’d tried to hide in his room when Ortho had first introduced us. Now he seemed like more of a mastermind. Not as imposing as Malleus, but certainly someone to be wary of.

And then there was the fact that he seemed utterly unbothered by me, unlike the other vampires here at Ignihyde.

Everyone else here at this clan, save for Ortho, took note of me. Their breath visually catching as their pupils dilated, before they took the telltale deep inhale all vampires seemed to take when I first encountered them. 

Those were all the usual signs that there was something about me that drew them to me. 

But Idia didn’t show any of those signs. And not in the same way that other vampires, like Malleus or Rook, didn’t. Other vampires behaved as if they were drawn to me, even if they didn’t like it. Malleus and Rook, for instance, showed those signs differently. Leona, another example, had always seemed more annoyed or like he was controlling himself before he’d gotten used to me.

But Idia was totally unaffected, like he wasn’t a vampire at all. Just a guy with flaming hair and pointy teeth. But he had to be a vampire if he was the clan leader, and I was confident that somebody, be it Vil, Rook, Sam, or someone else entirely, would have told me if he weren’t a vampire.

It was possible that it was something to do with the fact he was supposedly cursed, but why was he cursed? And what sort of curse gave any person, much less a vampire, who was a being that was most certainly flammable, flaming hair and made it so that they weren’t burnt or singed by the flames?

Initially, the lack of being affected had made Idia less concerning and more comfortable to be around, but now it almost made him more imposing. Because he was somehow different from other vampires, I didn’t know how yet. 

What other rules that applied to most vampires didn’t apply to him?

“If anyone can come up with a cure, it’d be my brother. He’s super intelligent after all,” Either unaware or unconcerned by the tenseness springing up between me and his brother, Ortho beamed at me as he casually praised Idia’s intelligence.

Another vampire drifted closer, his eyes trailing up and down my form before he smiled, his fangs flashing as he licked his lips in an oddly nervous fashion, “Yeah… Boss is pretty much a genius. Made Ortho himself, after all.”

I found myself shifting away from the man even as I glanced back at Idia, who appeared to be more annoyed with the praise than anything.

But if he really had made, or rather built, Ortho just like this man and Sam had both said, he had to be a genius.

Idia wasn’t looking at me, though, he was looking around the room before turning, pressing a few buttons in an intricate pattern that had his fingers dancing with lightning speed across the keypad and causing the door to open in front of him.

He left the room in silence, and I found myself trotting after him with Ortho gliding along beside me, his eyes curious as we followed his brother.

I let myself exhale as the door slid shut once more behind us without any directions, and I was in the hallway with just the two brothers, one vampire and one robot. 

“Woo, survived that encounter,” Idia’s words came out faster as he flashed a grin over at the robot next to him, who bobbed his head with a bright-eyed smile.

“You did great, big brother! You didn't even look nervous!” I blinked in quiet surprise at their exchange, suddenly wondering if I’d completely misinterpreted the situation.

Had all of that just been a front that this man put on to look good in front of his clan?

Ortho turned, looking my way with a curious tilt to his head, “Are you hoping to use the cure to resolve the insane vampire issues?”

He turned before I could answer, looking up at his brother as he continued, “That is why you brought them to the lab, right?”

Idia seemed to deflate as he was reminded of my presence, but turned to look at me nonetheless. His voice turning almost monotone once more, “No. I told them so that I could get this evaluation over as quickly as possible.”

He paused, meeting my gaze as he continued, “Now you can see that we aren’t involved in the influx of vampires. If anything, we’re working against it.”

His words made complete sense. Them creating something to cure vampirism didn’t make sense if they were also making vampires insane. Unless the cure itself was making vampires insane instead of curing them.

I frowned, knowing I couldn’t take him at his word, and I shook my head slightly, “I can’t tell Crowley that. And I have to be able to give him proof or make a good argument.”

Idia’s frown changed, from a weary one to one filled with annoyance that confirmed my suspicions that he didn’t want me sharing the fact he was making a cure with Crowley. 

Not that I could blame him. The head-vampire might not take kindly to a cure.

At odds with his brother’s annoyance, Ortho looked between the two of us in perfect, innocent confusion.

And again it hit me that these two were totally unfazed by me. And in many ways it was a relief. To just be able to interact with these two without concern for my safety or wondering if they were drawn to me solely by the scent of my blood. But it was also odd and left me wondering what exactly was up with Idia.

Ortho being unfazed made sense; he was a robot after all. But that brought me to a new question entirely. If Idia had invented him, why had he done so? Pure curiosity, or something else entirely?

And finally, would curing vampires, who were already dead as a result of their disease, result in the people who were supposedly cured ceasing to exist and crumbling to ashes in the same way they did when I handled them?

I was hesitant as I spoke, my voice coming out slowly as I bit the bullet and simply questioned the man in front of me, “Curing the vampires…. Wouldn’t that mean killing them?”

I watched as Ortho’s motions froze before he shook his head, his eyes wide with shock, “No! No, it would just mean making them as they were before and…. And….”

I watched as his expression shifted from one of surprise at my words to slight horror. I could all but see the cogs in his head turning, and I almost faltered at the expression in his wide eyes as he looked towards his brother. An alarming mixture of surprise, disbelief, and horrified worry.

His voice was timid and wavering as he spoke, the words coming out as a whisper, “That is right… isn’t brother? The cure won’t hurt anyone… right?”

Idia’s eyes held mine, but I saw him waver at the sound of the robot’s small voice. But rather than looking towards Ortho, he continued to stare me down. I held my ground, though, swallowing thickly the longer the silence stretched between us.

But that silence was answer enough.

“I can’t use this in my report to Crowley then…..” I trailed off, wanting to speak my mind on what I thought of this so-called cure, but stopping myself as I glanced towards Ortho, who was still staring up at the man he called ‘brother.’

 And I knew when to leave. Both of them obviously had quite a bit to discuss now, and I almost felt bad save for the fact that it was a question that I’d largely had to ask.

I exhaled softly before I spoke once more, “I’ll be back tomorrow to continue with my evaluation….”

With that I walked past the two of them, finding my way back to the elevator and taking it back up to the top floor in silence and exiting the library.

I could certainly say already that evaluating this clan was going to have its own unique challenges. One of which was most certainly going to be the clan head himself.

If you would like to read more:

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[kittysdiary]

my daily cheetahlicious beauty routine 🐆🎀:

skincare 🌸:

cleanser ~ cerave normal to dry skin cleanser

exfoliant ~ the ordinary aha + bha exfoliating peel (use 2x a week please!)

moisturizer ~ cerave daily moisturizing lotion

correction products ~ cerave eye cream + good molecules discoloration correcting serum

sunscreen ~ coola refreshing water cream

devices ~ vanity planet aira ionic facial steamer (in the color rose gold ofc) + farrence led light skin care machine

makeup 🌸:

primer ~ urban decay all nighter

foundation ~ fenty beauty pro flit’r

concealer ~ fenty beauty pro filt’r instant retouch

setting powder ~ fenty beauty pro filt’r instant retouch powder or laura mercier loose setting powder

blush ~ nars orgasm x + nars deep throat blush

bronzer ~ benefit cosmetics hoola bronzer

highlighter ~ benefit cosmetics tickle highlighter

mascara ~ too face better than sex mascara

eyeliner ~ nyx epic ink liner, too face better than sex liner

eyeshadow ~ too face, colourpop + morphe eyeshadow palettes

eye glitter ~ stilla

brows ~ anastasia beverly hills brow freeze

lashes ~ kiss lashes in sassy hybrid, lilly lashes in miami + lashy box -> cas cosmetic lashes in amethyst (used in photo but the style amethyst is no longer being sold but i luv the brand though for 25mm lashes! 💗)

lips ~ fenty beauty gloss bomb, nyx butter gloss + too face lip injection gloss

setting spray - urban decay all nighter setting spray

tools ~ morphe makeup brushes + beauty sponge

hair 🌸:

shampoo ~ design essentials milk and honey

conditioner ~ design essentials milk and honey

leave in conditioner ~ design essentials bamboo silk, design essentials almond and avocado detangling conditioner

hair mask ~ design essentials almond and avocado deep moisture mask

hair oil ~ design essentials silk essential oil

hair gel ~ eco styling gel

tools ~ detangling brush, denman brush, edge brush, blow dryer diffuser + at home hood dryer

(shower caps, silk head wraps/bonnets + silk pillowcases xoxo!)

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Tis’ Nearly the Season

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: FLUFF.

.

A soft cursing sound fell on your ears as you put finishing touches on your pumpkin spice lattes - tons of whipped cream.

It was a cosy November day where neither Tony nor you had work to do, and yet your boyfriend insisted on being in the lab for ‘important shit he had to sort out’. While you were nearly done with your coffees, the sound coming from the bottom of the stairs demanded your attention more than anything.

“Tony? Are you okay?”

You called out, peering around the wall that led downstairs. You caught a cursing Tony Stark who held a pair of scissors between his teeth while fidgeting over the cream polo shirt he wore, the fabric already rolled up to reveal his toned stomach. That was a sight in itself.

“Tony! What’s going on?” You called out, louder this time to watch his eyes go wide at the sight of you.

“Oh the staple gun got away from Dum-E, the stupid tool got my shirt instead.” Tony mumbled, letting the pair of scissors fall on the floor.

Making your way over to him, you giggled as he tried his best to get the pin out. Dum-E whirred into the scene just in time to reveal an adorable hat complete with a little pumpkin sitting atop his ‘head’.

“Dum-E! Look at you, you adorable little guy!” You cooed, giggling some more as the bot gave you a twirl happily.

“Did you do this?” You turned to wrap your arms around Tony who was already scratching the back of his head and gauging your reaction.

“There’s more.”

Tony took your hand and led you inside his lab, which looked radically different from what you were used to.

Small pumpkins and gourds adorned the tables and a soft yellow light emitted from the otherwise stark white room. The man had actually decorated the place.

You could even see a bunch of candles laid on the centre table at the far back where Tony had his large comfy sofa that you often fell asleep on.

“It’s for when you fall asleep on the couch while I work.” Tony spoke softly, keeping your fingers entwined as you walked towards the sofa.

A couple of cosy-looking knit blankets were thrown on the couch, along with pillows. Your heart could’ve melted into a puddle at the thoughtfulness.

“The brown one is large enough for the both of us.” He added with a small smile; the amount of times you’d begged him to join you for a nap and him dismissing you quoting ‘there isn’t a blanket here and I need one for napping’.

“I got you a new coffee machine as well, and the fridge is stocked with ice-cream. Stark’s Raving Hazelnut obviously.”

The last addition made you roll your eyes and chuckle, nevertheless making you wrap him in a big hug and press a sweet kiss against his cheek.

“You sweet, thoughtful, self-obsessed little genius.”

You swore you saw him blush before he captured your lips in a tender kiss, his hands pulling you closer by your waist.

“You always say I gotta try harder, well, it’s not much but it’s a start. I want to do this for us. I love you, Y/N, so much.”

His honest admission nearly brought tears to your eyes, the man was capable of being the most insufferable pain in the ass one moment and the next he could be the sweetest guy known to humankind.

“I love you too Stark. I wonder what you’d do for Christmas?!” You exclaimed, leaning your head against his shoulder and taking in the new Stark Lab that looked so much more like a home now.

“Oh we got a plan, the Jingle Bell protocol. Don’t we FRI?” He grinned, pretty proud of himself for having thought everything through.

“Indeed, boss.”

You chuckled and let out a happy sigh, pressing yet another kiss on Tony’s stubbled cheek, already picturing your days down in the lab, full of laughter, love and hope.

A/N: HELLO HELLO STARK SQUAD! I am alive. This is just a little surprise drabble I thought about on my way back from work today.

Also an apology for delaying our beloved Dom! Tony series. Hope y’all like this.

[starakex]

Costume Tetris: Storing stuff when you have no storage space

I just cleaned up my cosplay storage space recently and really optimized it down, so I thought I'd share a couple of tips on how I maximize the world's tiniest closet to somehow store most of my costumes, tools and materials.

So disclaimer: despite what I've just said, unfortunately not everything is in the one closet. I've got almost 15 years of cosplay stuff in my teeny tiny home to cram down, so some things end up elsewhere. I try to keep all my crafting materials and tools in this closet, as well as most costumes, with a priority to those currently in rotation for the year to be worn. Some of my tools are in small bins under a desk, and whatever other costumes that don't fit are bagged, folded and squeezed in the corner of another closet where they can occupy otherwise unusable nooks and crannies. My sewing machine is stored with other house tools so I don't risk clobbering myself on the head pulling it off the shelves.

The most important function of this space is easy access to anything I need ASAP, so garments, accessories/props, fabrics, makeup and the majority of my tools are stored inside. Let's take a look!

This closet can be broken down into 5 parts; the top shelf with bags of bulky costumes, the left shelves with compartmentalized bits in boxes and bags, the suspended fabric shelf containing materials and pieces of current craft projects, the garment bags on the right, and the big ol' bins on the bottom. The whole thing is graced by an IKEA LED Bar that I can either plug into an extension cable or just slap my Power Bank on if I'm lazy. (I'm lazy.) Either way, I'm never in there long enough to need a more permanent solution for lighting.

1. Bag Your Bulky Costumes!

This one is my favorite. I have a couple fursuit-type costumes now, and I found that Ikea has some really nice bags that work super well for storing bulkier, weirdly shaped pieces. In my case, each bag contains the equivalent of a mini-partial (Head, Tail, Paws), and they all feature handles that make it easy to grab-n-go the whole thing in one swoop. It keeps them out of dust's way too, which is a huge concern of mine. I'd likely store armor builds in these bags, if I actually still made those, with a bit of silk/gift paper in between the pieces to prevent the painted foam from sticking together. These bags can be stored out of the way, which prevents more fragile costume pieces from being crushed and warped over time. I think many types of bags could work for this purpose, but my favorites are Ikea's Görsnygg and Knalla. As a bonus, they have little spaces where you can put a little picture of the contents!

2. Box your bits!

Not much to say on these, as it's pretty self-explanatory; Sort your stuff into smaller boxes so everything stays together. My tip here is to get creative with the boxes you use; not everything can be solved with a slew of matching plastic bins from the dollar store! To really maximize the space (and my wallet), I also use a lot of repurposed containers, like these old jewelry chests, and takeout containers (Reduce, Reuse, Recycle!) Avoid cardboard if possible; they don't do much to protect your items from mold or pests. If that's all you have, it's better than nothing as a temporary storage solution until you find sturdier options.

In this picture, I've got all my electronics in a sturdy old jewelry case, a fragile half-mask and a bunch of print cotton in dollar store bins, and a bunch of ribbons and bias tapes in some old plastic takeout containers. I then jam some bulky crafting materials in the awkward space under the clothes bar since nothing else currently fit into the space.

3. Free Up Your Desk!

So making a cosplay is often a long process. In most cases, it takes more than a day, and if you're anything like me, your lack of space extends to more than just storage. I work on my dining table or my work desk and I need those to eat and work. In my case, my fabric bin (we'll get to that) is harder to access, so I've got a hanging organizer shelf on the clothes bar with a lot of spaces to sort different pieces over. Unless I'm painting something or working on a very large piece, I can just cram everything in there out of the way to pull it back out when I get back to working on the costume. It's super versatile; I also store some spare storage bags and my apron in there, and if it's a convention day I can set everything up to be easily found in the morning as I get ready. It won't work for everyone, obviously, but it helps me keep my space organized so I don't have to sacrifice eating on a table for a month.

4. Garment, Garment on the Wall

These ones are also self-explanatory, to be fair. A Garment bag, for those unfamiliar, is a protective fabric of plastic sleeve you slip over a hanger to protect the garment inside. There's different sizes available, and many of them zip on the front. Some cosplay pieces are just best stored this way, especially if they don't risk stretching the fabric out from gravity while hung up. Whenever possible I try stuffing every fabric piece of a costume in there, using multiple mix-and-matched hangers if needed (On the left bag here, there's a large coat and two undershirts on one hanger, and pants and a sash on a second hanger with integrated clothespins. The entire costume without accessories!) In the picture below, there's an entire Monster Hunter armor in one bag, with the flat armor pieces hanging out at the bottom of the garment bag.

You can get really optimized with this storage option; just be mindful of the total weight of everything you're storing this way, as plastic hangers will bend under too much weight (or, tragically, your bar might give under too many costumes. I've heard some stories)

5. Big Bins for Big Storage

Large plastic bins are the workhorse of my storage. The leftmost one under the shelf contains all my fabric, folded and rolled to take as little space as possible. When you're this limited in fabric space, I recommend buying versatile fabrics that can be easily reused, selling or donating extras you haven't found a use for in years to other cosplayers, and, if you're particularly short on space, planning your next costume in such a way you can make a dent in your leftovers by using them up. The other bin contains pretty much every accessory of prop for every costume I have in the house, even the currently unused ones. After having accidentally lost or crushed one too many item due to improper storage, this is my favorite way to store all those weird costume bits. This is where Cosplay Tetris comes in.

The Bin contains a whole slew of boxed, bagged and free-floating items crammed in as neatly as possible. There's props. There's accessories. There's wigs and hats. There's entire garments in there, too. In a lot of cases it's repurposed shipping bags and takeout containers all over again. The key to avoiding damage is filling up the space between bulkier or fragile pieces with soft items like those wigs or garments. Some examples:

Certain costumes are simple enough that storing them on a hanger in a garment bag would be overkill. Enki Ankarian's robes are easy to iron, so the entire costume is smashed into a shoe bag from Ikea. I also have a ridiculously heavy robe for another costume that would stretch and warp if stored on a hanger, so bagged and binned it is, too.

I have a whole slew of very small props (under 10cm wide) stored in old takeout containers, with silk/gift paper to prevent the more fragile paint jobs from getting scratched up. Little jewelry or weird pieces like Madoka's Soul Gem get further stored in smaller boxes inside to really protect them.

As most of my wigs use little to no hairspray to style them, the majority of my wigs are just stored in bags. I have a box on the shelves dedicated to storing all my wigs, but some of the unstyled ones end up in the accessory bin as padding, saving some space in the wig box for more fragile hairstyles. Here I jammed Ingo's wig and accessories into the hat so that it would keep its shape in the bin while really maximizing the space usage.

Finally, I keep an itemized list of every single item in this bin as a quick reference, that way I can tell where everything is at a glance. The list gets updated whenever something is added to this storage.

6. So, What's Next?

At the end of the day, this is about as optimized as I can get with the space I have. There are some other ways to gain some space, of course (I store a couple of costume pieces in with my regular clothes, like binders or plain shirts or sports underlayers), but as some point you will inevitably run out of space. At this point, the only solution is to empty it out a little.

I gave some tips for making a dent in the fabric stash, and the same can be applied to unused materials like EVA Foam or Worbla or Upholstery Foam, but at some point you're probably going to have to part with some of the older costumes to make space for the new ones. And that's okay! I'll admit it's a bit easier for me when the costume is damaged beyond repair, or I just no longer fit in it. You can, obviously, sell them on secondhand cosplay groups, or donate them. Unfortunately sometimes parts will be so damaged you might have to just throw them away, but that doesn't mean you have to throw the whole costume out with it! Keep whatever's still wearable and either sell/donate those individual parts or repurpose them for another costume, if possible (this is usually easiest with things like wigs or plain garments)

I hope this weird impromptu tour of my cosplay closet can give some storage ideas to those who, like me, don't have a proper dedicated workshop for the hobby! (Lord knows that's probably most of us in this economy)