#serpent fics

[snake-in-the-garden]

Chapter 4 is Here!!!

Banner by @chazz-anova​

Chapter 4: Word Gets Around

Summary: Ramona becomes a special interest to Eden’s Gate.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Ramona Belmont

Rating: M (for now)

Word count: 7.1k (oh god...!)

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of past r*pe/s*xual assault, panic attacks, brief plane jacket slander, John and Jacob being themselves

A/N: Hey there...It's been too long since the last chapter due to me loosing some motivation to write everyday when winter hit. There's just something about the cold air and early night time that just takes a toll on me. Anyway I felt so bad about basically disappearing for months, I made this chapter way too long for what I usually write and it still came out like it was rushed. Ugh...Thanks to those who were patiently waiting to see more of Ramona and happy reading!

Taglist: @euaveri @turbo-virgins @eur0paa-2 @strafethesesinners @henbased @adelaidedrubman(I guess both of our girls aren’t special) @aceghosts @shallow-gravy​ @alexmalikplays @gxmergurl @thomrainer @lost-poets-poetry @svsunflowers @mr-krinkle  @jfsfjjj

Prev. Chapters: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

Masterlist || Taglist

Read it here or on Ao3

~~~

"I think an apology is in order," Mary May admitted. "From me, of course." Ramona arched an eyebrow as she stopped sipping on the red, fizzy beverage the blonde had gifted her. "You strutted in them Jimmy Choo's got me thinkin' you were one of John's people," Mary May continued. "I thought Sharky had made the same mistake as last time and I just went off makin' you think I was some sorta bigot." Speaking of Sharky, he had just left the bar a bit ago to check if the garage in town was open or not. Ramona would've gone herself if Sharky hadn't insisted.

"This happened before?" Ramona asked, resting her head in her hand.

"Sharky had brought one of them Peggie girls in here some years ago." Mary May grimaced at the memory. "She started goin' on about 'The Father this' and 'The Father that' so much I had to kick 'em out."

"I assume 'The Father' is Eden's Gate's leader," Ramona inferred.

"Yeah. Joseph Seed. Some man-bunned, shirtless weirdo who convinced practically half of the fuckin' county that he's some sorta prophet," the bartender informed. "But he's not the only one you should worry about."

Ramona leaned closer to Mary May, bracing herself on the counter with her forearms. "Pray tell."

"Well the one you just met was John, the youngest brother," Mary May began. "He's the cult's recruitment lapdog and the reason they're able to 'get away' with alotta shady shit." She rubbed her forefinger and thumb together to indicate someone being in someone else's pockets. "Then you got the oldest brother, Jacob. You can't miss 'em. He's a redheaded biggun who's basically the muscle of the cult. And finally there's Faith. She ain't blood but she's just as creepy as the rest of 'em."

Ramona sensed the blonde wasn't quite telling her everything about Eden's Gate. If these people were doing "illegal shit," she wanted to know about it. But with the way Mary May's voice slightly trembled and her blue eyes kept shifting, it probably wasn't a topic she wanted to be pressed about.

"Either way just keep away from 'em. You don't wanna get involved."

"I'll do what I can. Though I doubt I could avoid John since I'm so 'fascinating' to him."

"Oh please, you're not the only woman who's rejected him. He'll find someone else to harass. Probably."

"And here I thought I was special."

Mary May snorted.

~~~

"I didn't think one woman could get you like this." John grunted at the comment as he laid out on the couch with his arm resting on his face. The one who made the comment was Jacob sitting across from him.

"I'm not 'like' anything. I just hate how fast those sinners can act when it comes to corrupting someone," John frets as he sits up.

"From what you described, I can tell she ain't the type to fall for your 'charms' so easily," Jacob inferred while crossing his arms. "Considering she'd rather hang around the redneck and the barmaid."

John grimaced at his brother's statement. "She was just so…vicious. Wouldn't even entertain the thought of hearing me out for even a second. She was gorgeous though."

"I'm sure she was." the redhead stated as he set his feet up on the coffee table. John glared at the action only for Jacob to ignore it. "But it shouldn't be your dick's decision who we add to our ranks. It's Joseph's decision."

"Speaking of which; isn't Joseph supposed to be here by now?"

The two brothers were waiting on Joseph at the Seed Ranch to give their weekly reports on their recent progress with their work within the Project and to have dinner later. John and Jacob were both sure that it was Faith making Joseph late. Before anything else could be said, the front doors opened alerting them to Joseph entering the Ranch with Faith following close behind. John and Jacob stood up to make their way to the foyer to properly welcome their leader. "Good afternoon, brothers," Joseph greeted fondly. "I have something truly important I want to share with you." The siblings moved to the dining room while John ordered one of the faithful who were stationed at a Ranch to make coffee for them.

As the siblings settled, Joseph let out a heavy sigh, bringing in the others undivided attention. "The Voice spoke to me the night before and has told me that a wayward soul would come to us seeking answers." He then turned to John. "I've heard you met someone today at The Spread Eagle. A woman with brown skin, long black hair, and a tattoo in the middle of her back?" The youngest Seed pondered to himself about how much Joseph knew of the incident; half hoping that all he knew was that they talked. If you could call what happened "talking." 

"Yes Joseph. A serpent and roses to be exact," John started as he sat up straighter. "My men made it known to me about a young woman coming into the county and I went to the bar to greet her. But it doesn't seem like she'd be seeking anything from us."

Joseph stiffened. "What do you mean?" The other siblings could feel the tension settling within the room. "Did something happen?"

"It was awful. She was so quick to be dismissive of our cause due to those sinners and---!" John faltered.

"Please John, calm yourself," Joseph soothed while still ridgid. "What are you trying to say?"

John took a breath. "All I'm saying is as it would please me to cleanse her, this woman's soul is probably too far gone due to the corruption of--."

Joseph held his hand up; silencing John's ramblings. The Prophet then stood up to look out the window. Hands behind his back and lets out a sigh. "Hey Joe, if you don't mind me asking," the eldest Seed spoke up, wanting to take his brother's coldness off of John. "Why did the 'Voice' deem this woman so damn important apart from the rest of the 'wayward souls' we took in before?" It was already known to Joseph that Jacob didn't believe in the higher power his brother answered to and he didn't expect him to. All Joseph asked from their protector was his loyalty.

Joseph turned back around to face his siblings. All waiting to hear his words. "The Voice has told me this woman would bring about a great upheaval to everything we've worked so hard on if she doesn't see the light and come join our family to help us guide our flock through the Gate into New Eden." A heavy weight was suddenly felt by the Heralds as their leader finished speaking. It usually wasn't so difficult for them to get people to join The Project. Unfortunate people with nowhere else to go were easy to attract when Eden's Gate advertised love and protection to any and everyone. The only price would be their unwavering devotion.

"And by 'upheaval' you mean…?" It was Faith's turn to speak up.

"The deaths of our faithful by the thousands, the destruction of our community, and the…downfall of our family," Joseph finished as he grasped Faith's shoulder warmly as if not to lose her to an unknown future. "So it's crucial we don't dawdle with this. Especially now."

The weight the Heralds felt earlier magnified after the Father's elaboration. "We won't disappoint you, Joseph," John impulsively exclaimed, feeling that last comment was directed at him. He hoped his enthusiasm would make up for his supposed transgression from earlier. He then looked to the other two, expecting them to follow along. They simply nodded. Joseph smiled in appreciation of their loyalty. "I'm sorry if I scared you, but I just needed you all to know how important it is for her to join our family," he explained while getting up to leave the room. The others stood up with him. "If there's nothing else to be discussed, I think I'll see how that garden John mentioned the other day is doing before we start dinner." Happy to get his brother out of the room, John gave a quick "of course" and signaled two of his faithful on standby to accompany their leader in the backyard.

Just as Joseph leaves the room, John exhales. "I'm glad that's over." It was unknown if the other two felt the same, but it was likely that the feeling wasn't mutual.

"So, how are we doin' this?" Jacob asked. "Like Joe said, we can't exactly wait around for her."

"She just needs more convincing," John assured, not letting on what that would entail.

"We can't hurt her or anything," Faith chimed in. "The Father wouldn't like that."

"I know!" he retorted, causing her to make an amused noise at his reaction. "We're just going to have to be smart about this."

We're? Jacob and Faith weren't usually included when it came to recruiting people for the Project, but they weren't going to question anything John was about to suggest. Especially since time was of the essence.

~~~

It looked exactly how it did in the pictures. One story, simple porch with a swing, huge front yard, a garage shed big enough for Rosa, and a field across the road. Ramona didn't know if she should be relieved to have finally made it to her new home or regretful for making such an impulsive decision. How was she going to manage a house like this? She knows it's already furnished, but there were other things she probably should've considered before coming here. A reliable food source, job security, clothing, and--!

"Hey, what's up? Thought I lost you for a second," Sharky exclaimed, waving his hand in front of Ramona's face and interrupting her frantic thoughts. She had forgotten that he was even here, which was kind of bad of her to do since if it wasn't for him, she would still be stuck on the side of the road. "Sorry Sharky. I was just taking it all in," Ramona explained while trying not to get put off by the blue eyes studying her face. "Thank you for doing this for me by the way. You probably had other things to do rather than help me." Sharky rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. "Nah it was nothin'. But to tell you the truth, I was supposed to meet up with my cousin Hurk…" He frowned as he checked his watch. "...two hours ago." Ramona noticed the negative shift in his tone of voice and decided she had taken enough of his time. Most of that time being used to get a new battery, driving back to Rosa to install it, and then following Sharky here.

"Then you should probably get going. You don't want to keep him waiting."

"It's alright. I can help with your bags."

"Do you wanna get out of here?" 

An unpleasant memory took hold just after Sharky made his offer. She turned her back. "No. You've done enough. Please leave."

Sharky exhaled noisily through his pursed lips and abruptly took a step backwards away from the woman's sudden coldness. For Ramona, it was already bad enough she had to show some guy she just met where she was going to be living, now he wanted to come inside? Alone with her? No way. "Alright. That's fine. I see where you're gettin' at. I'll go," Sharky complied, sounding dismayed. For a split second, Ramona wanted to turn around to say she had changed her mind. But when she actually did, he was already heading back to his truck. Accepting her missed chance, Ramona trudges on to Rosa to finally unload her. "Hey 'Mona!" She turned her attention to Sharky, who Ramona thought would've left already.

"Welcome to Hope County!" There was that crooked smile again.

And with that, Sharky takes off in his truck leaving Ramona confused about how this guy felt about her. It wasn't too much of a concern, but it was pretty weird for someone to shake off having the cold shoulder being directed at them. Oh well.

~~~

"Mrs. Belmont, I know you're upset, but I don't think we can classify this incident as anything more than a misunderstanding turning into a physical altercation." An older, timid man's voice is heard. "Happens all the time with students."

"Bullshit. This 'misunderstanding' scarred my baby's face because she didn't want some nasty boy putting his hands on her." Ramona then hears the outraged voice of her mother.

"The other student has already claimed in his statement that you're daughter fell after--"

"After he tried to rape her."

Ramona heard a huff of frustration next to her followed by a gentle hand rubbing her back after hearing her mother spit out the accusation. It was the soothing hand of Ramona's father who had let his wife handle the meeting.

"It's gonna be okay Rammy." After hearing her father's words, Ramona turned her head to see his reassuring face.

But she never gets to as Ramona's dream fades to white. She wakes up to an unfamiliar ceiling which gets her heart racing. Ramona shoots up from her laying position and frantically looks around her new home only to realize she fell asleep on the couch. Ramona puts her head in her hands to calm herself, feeling moisture on her palms. It's okay. Waking up to tears in her eyes after having that dream wasn't anything new for her.

You're okay. You're okay.

Ramona's legs wobbled a bit as she stood up to see one of her unpacked bags at her feet. She sighed to herself realizing all the work which still needed to be done. The woman looked at her phone to see that it was almost 10:30 pm, realized she'd napped for way too long, and decided all that would be "next day Ramona's" problem. It was time for bed anyway. Ramona did her usual nighttime hair routine, brushed her teeth, and changed into one of the sets of pajamas she'd brought. Ramona didn't think much of her new bedroom. It was simple and minimally decorated with the essentials. Basically a blank canvas setup for her to project herself on to make this house into a home. Her home. Ramona settled into bed and tried to ignore the slight musty smell the comforter gave off. Maybe she'll finish that dream.

~~~

It was the crack of dawn when Ramona was able to call her parents, letting them know she made it to Hope County okay. But that was after multiple "fine's", "alright's", and "okay's" in response to her mother's light scolding about not calling sooner and her father's repetitive questions about Rosa's condition. Even though she wasn't able to get a full sentence in, hearing her parent's voices soothed Ramona's nerves. Somehow during their conversation, her mother mentioned a letter left somewhere in the house for her to read. Ramona assured her she'd read it later.

The woman was now free to assess what she needed to do for today. The lingering smell of must and her stomach growling suggested her first two tasks of the day. Good thing she remembered the general store in Fall's End. As she combed out her hair, a loud, rapid knocking was heard, startling Ramona. Who could that be? No seriously. Who else knows she's living here besides Sharky? She doubts he'd come back after being on the receiving end of her iciness from yesterday but anything could happen. If it is him, Ramona would just take this as an opportunity to apologize. Something told her Sharky would accept it.

The knocking continued to Ramona's annoyance as she quickly threw on a hoodie while hurrying to the front door. The woman then frowned when she opened the door and saw it was actually John, holding a thick white book under his arm, who decided to drop by. Along with two other men, both wearing white uniforms, who were of course, glaring at her. "Good morning," John greeted, showing off that smile again.

"Uh…good morning to you too?" It was the only thing Ramona could say after believing she wouldn't see this man again anytime soon. "What brings you by?"

John gave out a light chuckle. "I didn't mean to disturb you so early, but I felt it was imperative for you and I to make amends after what happened yesterday," he informed while inching closer to her. "May I come in? I was hoping we could talk some more too." 

Ramona held out her hand; palm almost touching her visitor's chest. "You and I are good out here."

"PIease, I must insist. I want to make this right with you."

"And I must insist we're good out here." Ramona closes the door behind her and leans against it to make her point even clearer. "So let's talk."

Why are the men around here so eager to come into my home? John let out a soft sigh and clutched his book. "Alright. Have it your way then." He then signaled his men to step away from them so the two could have some privacy. The men nodded and obeyed without a second thought. "Now let me start off by saying I'm sorry for how…brash I was yesterday at the bar," John offered. "It was shameful of me to make such a bad first impression on you." Despite how obvious it was that John could have other intentions behind this, Ramona could at least hear some remorse in his voice. But she couldn't let her guard down just yet.

"Well John, I appreciate you coming to--."

John casually cuts her off. "I would also like to take this opportunity to properly introduce to you the key to your salvation." He cradled the white hardcover within his forearm, proudly presenting it to Ramona. "Without any distractions." It was titled The Word of Joseph.

There it is.

Ramona wasn't too enthused about having to listen to a possible cult member's spiel about her needing to be "saved." She's still not sure from what exactly. John had hastily mentioned the Collapse yesterday which sparked her curiosity. Ramona nodded, indicating to her guest that he could start. "Eden's Gate is a loving community for lost souls who have been wronged by the world and corrupted by sin," John commenced. "It is our job to cleanse those of their sins in order for them to enter through the Gate after the Collapse so that we can create a new world." Ramona crossed her arms after hearing what sounded like another one of those "it's the end times so give us your money" pitches televangelists like to use. "Is that what you think I am; a 'lost soul'?" Ramona questioned. "What makes you think this? We literally just met yesterday." John tucked the book back under his arm and straightened up the tacky looking jacket he was wearing; preparing for another pitch.

"My older brother Joseph, or The Father as he's lovingly referred to, has recently told my siblings and I you were meant to join our family," John informed, again stepping closer. "A wayward soul looking for a place in the world. Something we could provide for you."

Ramona put her hands on her hips. "Again, I ask. What makes you think that?" she asks, increasingly getting more annoyed.

"Impatient, aren't we?" he commented teasingly. "I saw you were a young woman traveling alone, willing to practically jump into the arms of anyone who looked your way. No matter how unsavory their true intentions were." John's tone darkens at the last part.

Ramona rolled her eyes at his claim. Yes, it was true she impulsively got into a car with a complete stranger, but she didn't have a choice. Plus Sharky respected her boundaries right off the bat when she established them. "I never 'jumped' into anyone's arms. I was offered help and I took it," Ramona retorted. Possibly a little too defensively. "Besides, it's none of your business I'm traveling alone." John took another step closer, causing her to step back. "Actually, we at Eden's Gate make it our business to keep those vulnerable enough from being dragged down into the trenches of sin," John states eerily, his blue gaze momentarily stunning the woman. "And Miss. Fairgrave was willing to do just that." Ramona's ears perked up when he mentioned Mary May.

"What does she have to do with anything?"

"Miss. Fairgrave and I had our…quarrels in the past."

"Quarrels? What happened?"

"She just couldn't accept her brother wanting to be with us. Obviously envious of the close bond he had with the rest of the congregation and tried so desperately to take that happiness away from him."

Ramona was silent; recounting how hateful Mary May was of Peggies and wondering if what John was saying was even true. Probably not.

John continued. "To cope with this, she and her lot spread lies about Eden's Gate to anyone who would believe them."

"Right…So the claim of you using money to get whatever Eden's Gate is doing around legal barriers is not true then?"

With the way John immediately frowned and glowered after the woman's probing question; it was obvious she made a mistake. "I don't mean any harm. I just need to know what--." Ramona's explanation was cut short as John abruptly strides forward to firmly thrust the book against her chest, causing her to be essentially trapped between her guest and the front door hard on her shoulder blades. Causing her to panic. "We do what is necessary to secure the future of Eden's Gate," John said harshly, increasing the pressure on Ramona's chest causing her. "Some may not agree with our methods, but I assure you, Miss. 'Bel-mawn', you will reconsider your ill-conceived notions about us if you take the time to listen." Along with being blindsided by John's sudden ambush, Ramona's blood ran cold when her last name, though mispronounced, fell from John's lips. She had never told him her name and had made it quite clear he didn't deserve to know yesterday. It was doubtful either Mary May or Sharky had told John; especially since she didn't even tell them her last name.

"Who told you my last name?" Ramona demanded, strained and on the verge of having a panic attack.

"This residence's previous owner," John complied. "Your uncle."

James! "How do you know him?" she pressed.

"I didn't personally know him. But a few years ago I paid him and his wife a visit to welcome them to the county and introduce them to Eden's Gate."

Ramona continued staring at him. "Go on."

"Well I couldn't really give a proper introduction due to him interrupting me with stories of his travels which ultimately lead him here. And his wife…spirited…shooed me out saying they weren't interested and they never will be," John reminisced bitterly. Possibly showing a bit of his true self.

Ramona had to fight to keep her face from cracking into a smile at the thought of James and Jackie giving John the runaround to avoid his proselytizing. She almost forgot her current situation. He continued. "But through all that nonsense, your uncle kept bringing up a certain someone. Someone I thought I'd never run into after all this time." John took a moment to caress a loose raven tress belonging to his captive before he got close to her ear.

"His favorite niece; Ramona Octavia Belmont," he chillingly whispered.

Ramona thought nothing of it when she gathered her strength and sent John tumbling backwards off the porch and onto the ground. Her personal space had been violated far enough. After hearing their superior's yelps of pain as he landed, the men rushed to John's aid.

"Brother John! Are you okay!?" one fretted.

"How dare you lay your filthy hands upon our Baptist!?" the other scolded.

"You're unworthy in receiving the Father's Word!" the first one accused.

Ramona remained on the porch, looking down at them heavily panting, only getting more pissed off. "Here, take it then!" the irate woman shouted while throwing John's "gift" near them. "Tell Joseph he's got the wrong woman 'cause I don't want the 'key to my salvation' if it means I have to deal with some creep who doesn't know the meaning of personal space!" Ramona would be lying if she didn't think seeing John flat on his ass in the dirt was amusing, but of course, in a moment of clarity, she realized this was the exact opposite of what she was advised to do. That clarity caused Ramona to almost immediately regret her actions when she realized she could be arrested for this. Even if John was the one who started it. The woman's heart started to pound as she braced for his reaction, but John just sat there hanging his head. Ramona thought about saying something to him but decided against it assuming she'd just make it worse for herself.

"You know Miss. Belmont. All of that…anger you harbor deep inside needs to be cleansed. Which I as your future Baptist will personally see to," John affirmed, ignoring the insult while sporting a wicked, chilling smile. Ramona felt a slight surge of nausea. "The Project has a place for you, especially someone of your profession. A social worker who gives counsel to those in need is someone who'd be perfect for us." Ramona just stood there unimpressed by his shallow praises and also wondering how much James had told this man about her. "If you're offering me a job, I'll have to decline," she dismissed while stepping a few paces forward. One of John's men quickly helped him up while the other scrambled to collect the sullied book from the dusty ground. Both looked hopeful to see him stand up against his assailant. John proceeded to casually dust himself off.

"Are you sure that is a wise decision to make? Financially managing a property of this size might be too much for one woman. Perhaps I could take it off your--," John began.

"No, that's not happening. Besides, it's already paid off," Ramona shot back, taking her turn to interrupt him for a change. "In fact, I have the documents to show for it."

"I bet you do," he responded sourly. "But you are sorely mistaken if you really think material possessions will help you during the Collapse."

"Then what will help, huh?" she challenged, hotly. "Tell me so you can leave already."

To Ramona's surprise, John didn't retort with a quick remark at her prodding. All the man did was signal to his men to hand him the book. The order is followed and John once again presents his gift to Ramona. "Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way," he states. "I believe you should hear it from the Father himself. He's better at this." The way John said that made it obvious he was getting tired of her too. Ramona looks down at the book. "Huh? I thought I made myself clear I didn't want the--." John held his hand up. "I know. I'm telling you the Father is giving a sermon about the Collapse this Sunday and will be delighted to answer any questions you may have. The address is behind the front cover," he noted earnestly. "But if you choose not to come, will you at least take his Word? I won't bother anymore after today if you do." Ramona sighed and promptly took the book from him, doubting he'd even keep his promise.

"I'll at least think about it. But if I do come to the sermon, it won't mean I'm joining your cult."

"It's not a--! Of course. But every cynic I've met says that at first, but then sees the light after they hear--."

"I mean it! I'm only going for myself and for you to leave me alone."

"So you will be attending?"

"Get off my property!"

While slightly startled by Ramona's outburst, John kept his promise as he and his men made their way back to the white truck they came in. "Farewell Miss. Belmont, I hope to see you this Sunday," John bids. The woman didn't say anything back as she stormed back into her house and slammed the door behind her. Ramona let out a short cry of frustration when she angrily threw the book a few feet away from herself, causing a harsh, loud thud on the wooden floor kicking dust up. She pressed her back against the front door and slid down to the floor when her legs felt weak. Reeling from the ordeal, dizziness and a rapid heart rate from earlier took hold while a ringing noise resonated within her head. Ramona started to feel hot and short of breath, so she clumsily removed her hoodie for supposed relief. But it wasn't enough. The pounding in her chest causes her to curl up on the floor, trembling and hyperventilating. The combinations of these symptoms were all too familiar to Ramona as a quick memory of her alone in her college dorm in the same position flashed in her mind. Despite the pains in her chest and nausea, Ramona forces herself to sit up halfway to regain control.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He can't hurt you. You are safe now. As Ramona inhaled and exhaled, she thought back to all the times she had to do this exercise to get through the first part of freshman year. She hoped these episodes won't be a common occurrence since Ramona wanted a fresh start, but achieving that seemed impossible now. Although Ramona had told John "no" to joining Eden's Gate and denied their "prophecy," she still made it known her interest was piqued; so it was likely they would still try to convince her. The dulling ache in her chest and decreasing heart rate allowed Ramona to sit up fully and the softening buzzing in her ear and her body stabilizing enabled her to think clearly. Ramona decided it would probably be best to listen to Mary May's advice more carefully and avoid them as much as possible--starting now.

~~~

Finding the way back to Fall's End wasn't difficult. A few left turns and then a left was easy for Ramona to remember which is going to be important since the general store might be her only source for food and other essentials she'll need in the future. After finding an appropriate parking place for Rosa, the woman made her way into the store. She made note of the small size and the Americana decor; hoping the store owner's patriotism was just an aesthetic. To Ramona's surprise, she didn't draw any attention to herself like yesterday. She figured dressing in Hope County-appropriate attire she found in the closet would do that. Thanks Auntie. As Ramona proceeded to fulfill her shopping list of necessities, she overheard two people, a man and a woman dressed in hunting gear, talking a few feet away. Curiosity got the better of her.

"Do you really think we can keep living like this?" the woman asked, sounding stressed. "I don't think I can take any more of this."

"Would you rather we'd live like brainwashed zombies?" the man asked her in turn, using a tone Ramona didn't like. "Our bunker is the only safe place from them taking over."

"I got that. But stocking that bunker is making you and others paranoid about something that may not happen."

"We know what we're doing. You think those Seed-fuckers made their people tote around those guns just for show? We're just looking out for ourselves since the cops aren't doing anything."

Ramona didn't hear the woman's response when she left the aisle and moved on to the dairy section so she wouldn't get caught being nosey. Brainwashing? Guns? This new information about Eden's Gate made Ramona realize it probably had to do with the "illegal shit" Mary May hinted at. Despite not wanting to probe her anymore about uncomfortable topics, Ramona would've appreciated the heads up about a confirmed violent cult who now had their eyes on her. Now she's definitely sure John won't leave her alone and most likely lying about what really happened between him and Mary May.

Back to the task at hand. Ramona reached up to grab vanilla coffee creamer from the top shelf only for her nails to barely brush against it. She internally cursed her height and whoever made this refrigerator. Not wanting to completely give up, she tried again, but failed again when another hand easily grabbed it instead. The owner of the hand was a tall, curvy woman with long dark, curly hair and dark brown eyes which were warm and inviting. She was very pretty.

"Here you go," the woman offered. "This was what you wanted, right?" She was referring to the creamer.

"Yeah it was. Thank you." Ramona acknowledged while accepting the small carton.

"A word of advice. If you're going to be listening to other people's conversations; you should at least do it from somewhere they wouldn't see you," the woman suggested bluntly and flickered her eyes to the side.

Ramona's stomach dropped when she quickly turned her head to see the aforementioned couple, now scowling, rip their gaze away from the two women and shuffled off.

"I'm just telling you from experience."

Ramona couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed of herself. She swore off anything Eden's Gate related, but her curiosity about them kept piquing even though every new piece of information about them just kept getting worse. But then again, any knowledge about the cult would keep Ramona from being ignorant of anything that would pose them as a threat to her. Even if it wasn't coming from a direct source. Anything to not talk to the Seeds again. "Sorry for asking but, do you know anything about Eden's Gate?" she asked, "Also my name is Ramona." The woman pursed her plush lips and loosely crossed her arms under her chest. "Deirdre. I'm a vet at the F.A.N.G. Center in the mountains. I've been living here with my husband and his family for about 10 years, so I...uh….know enough," she divulged tentatively. "They're a doomsday cult preparing for the Collapse. An apocalyptic event." Ramona figured that much on her own. But it was way better than the common "stay away from them" she kept hearing.

"Is there any real way to get them off my back for good?"

"Nope. Since you just moved here, Eden's Gate is not going to leave you alone anytime soon. They love new people."

"Wait, how do you know I just moved here?"

Deirdre frowned and averted her eyes.

"Hey Dee, what's takin' you so long?" Ramona inhaled sharply when she saw the owner of the rough, male voice appear from behind the row of shelves beside them. "Oh. You made a friend." A tall, scarred man with red hair went to stand beside Deirdre, putting his large hand on her shoulder. Combined with Mary May's description and the J. Seed stitched on the sleeve of his camo jacket; she concluded this was Jacob Seed. Ramona made a quick glance at Deirdre. She was still avoiding eye contact. Ramona put two and two together and it all made sense. John probably told Jacob about what happened and probably wanted to take a crack at recruiting the "lost soul". Not to risk straining her neck anymore, Ramona backed up a bit to accommodate her intake of Jacob’s imposing stature. Which wasn’t a bad sight. She definitely didn't lie about the "biggun" and "muscle" part. 

"I thought you were waiting outside," Deirdre pointed out crossly.

"I was. But you were takin' too long and folks were givin' me the stink eye. 'Specially that idiot pilot." Jacob stated. He then pointed his gaze at Ramona. "So you're the woman my brother's been talkin' about?"

She sighs. "Yeah. Why? Is it your turn to harass me?" Ramona retorted, suddenly becoming bold. "One of you was bad enough today."

"Heh no. After what happened between you and Johnny, I don't think I wanna tangle with you," he teased. "'Sides, I don't do the door to door shit."

"Then what do you do?"

"All you need to know at the moment is that I keep the congregation safe. And in line."

Remembering the mention of guns earlier, Ramona had a pretty good guess about what that could mean. It wasn't something she wanted to discuss further with him and was grateful he didn't take it upon himself to do so. She looked at Deirdre. She wondered how deep her involvement with Eden's Gate went. If it was beyond being married to one of the brothers. Telling from her tone, Deirdre also didn't seem too interested in discussing anything. Which was also fine. But she could help but be worried. Black women and religious cults run by white men have never been a good match. "I should probably finish up and pay for these," Ramona spoke up, sensing an opportunity to leave. "It was nice talking to you." Deirdre perked up. "I can pay for your groceries if you want," she suggested. "Y'know for your troubles." Jacob made a disapproving face which Deirdre ignored. Ramona thought about what happened between her and John and decided this should make up for it. She accepted the offer.

~~~

"These people act like we're the scum of the earth, but they'll still take our money," Jacob commented, sounding amused. He was referring to the store clerk who gave the group a dirty look while processing the payment. The three were currently outside the general store and Ramona was about to see the couple off. "I guess dressin' up your store like the Fourth of July was really just for show." Deirdre rolled her eyes and saw that Ramona was confused. "The locals here put up American flag stuff to show they're against Eden's Gate," she clarified. "It started happening after the congregation grew." Ramona could tell that wasn't entirely true.

"Hey Dee. How 'bout you wait in the truck while I talk to our friend here before we leave." Deirdre looked between her husband and Ramona and sighed. "Alright." The eldest Seed was mincing his words earlier about his role within Eden's Gate, so what would he possibly want to talk about now. And without his wife present at that. After Deirdre settles herself within the passenger seat of their truck; Jacob leaned his back against it, facing Ramona while crossing his arms.

"While I do think Johnny probably deserved what you did to him this morning, you gotta be smart about who you push away and who you align yourself with."

"What are you talking about? I thought you weren't going to--!"

"Down kitten. I'm just tellin' you this for your own good. Apparently Joe sees somethin' in you and he's usually right."

"Well he's wrong. And Like I told your brother, I'm not meant to join your cult and you can't convince me otherwise!"

"You say that now, but when the time comes, you'll make the right choice."

"Don't count on it."

Despite her stomach twisting in knots, Ramona immediately strode off from Jacob to where Rosa was parked, hearing the couple's truck drive off behind her. She knew people who were involved with cults were self-righteous, but having someone declare what's "good" for her for the second time today was just infuriating. Also frightening. The woman was surprised that Jacob's familiar, intense blue glare and ominous tone he used while practically threatening her didn't put her in another state of panic. Ramona guessed one was enough for today.

Head buzzing with rushing, irritating thoughts, Ramona hastily loaded her car, just eager to get back home. "You okay, Miss?" The woman popped up her head to the sound of another male voice. She saw a man wearing aviators and a shirt with a logo that read Rye & Sons Aviation parked next to her. Aviation? Was this the "idiot" pilot? "That Seed bastard was botherin' you, right?" Ramona let out a sigh and closed the passenger door. She wasn't mad at him or anything; strangers coming up to talk to her when she wasn't in the mood was getting exhausting.

"Unfortunately. Even though this is only my second day here, Eden's Gate has already decided I'm meant to be with them. Whatever that means."

The man furled his lip and shook his head. "That's how they get you," the man started, a rant seemingly brewing. "Damn Peggies make you feel all 'special' when all they really wanted was your plane."

Ramona blinked. "Plane? I don't have a plane?"

"Ah shit! I'm sorry! Got carried away and started talkin' 'bout myself." The man held out his hand. "I'm Nick Rye of Rye and Son's Aviation. I was talkin' 'bout my plane, Carmina."

Ramona, slightly amused at the confusion, shook Nick's hand. 

"I heard from Mary May you've already met John. That fucker's been tryin' to get my plane for years after actin' all buddy-buddy and shit with me at first. Them Peggies been harassin' my family so bad my wife Kim, who's smaller than you, had to punch one of 'em. Died down a bit after that and she didn't get in trouble for it."

"I'm sorry you were going through that. Eden's Gate might want my house, but other than that it's just 'me' they want so badly. I don't know what to do."

"Well if I were you, I'd go up to Joseph after one of their sermons and show 'em you mean business."

Ramona didn't quite know what Nick meant, but if it was relating to what his wife did, she's quite sure she won't get away with that. Taking that part out, going straight to the source of her problems seems like something she could work with. Ramona could go to the sermon and hopefully get Joseph to have his brothers to lay off and rethink this whole "prophecy" about her. Of course Ramona would have to figure out the details of this plan so it can be somewhat sound. "Thank you Nick. I'll put some thought into your suggestion." The pilot did a slight smile, noticing a change in her voice from earlier. "Well alright then! Maybe you can come by and I'll give you some flyin' lessons. Carmina's the big yellow one." She froze a bit. "I-I'll think about that too." His smile got bigger. "Great!"

Ramona didn't have the heart to tell Nick she was afraid of heights.

[roseserpentpress]

An ocean themed hoffstrahm diptych anthology, composed of the series Street Cats (Making Love) by doztoevsky and Rushed like a dreadful wind by bleakwinter, both stories of which I've read over and over again.

Technically the book is pretty much composed of two typesets in one, but I really liked that the two stories were both, in a way, ocean themed. As a result I enjoyed being able to incorporate an oil-tanned Cabezon fish skin I had caught and tanned a few years back (although it makes the spine stiffer than what I would like it to be) and incorporating many sea-themed designs. The text block itself drove me nuts as for the first time I decided to try trimming the edges since PDFs being printed had been giving me grief recently; only for me to completely botch it the first time, but luckily I had a mishap printing so had already half a second text block... But it's finished now :) links to the fics below the read more.

Stray Cats (Making Love) Series by Doztoevsky

Street Cats (making love), (M, 9k)

Hoffman changes the rules of the game. Peter's just trying to catch up.

Nervous from the fall (M, 6k)

The ground beneath them shifts. Peter tries to regain his footing.

The shape it takes (M, 10k)

Peter attends a wedding. It goes as well as things usually do for him.

rushed like a dreadful wind by bleakmidwinter (E, 44.5 k)

Hoffman saves Strahm from getting crushed, but keeps him captive. Hoffman wants Strahm to understand him. Strahm just wants to escape, until he doesn't.

(aka the fic where mark conducts intricate rituals in order to touch the skin of another man by putting he and peter in wireless handcuffs set up to explode if peter walks a specific amount of feet away from him)

[fisheito]

i am thinking about. From the Earth, Nectar

[edsheeranong]

sweet pea x fem oc

A/N- i've never written before and idk if anyone will even see this but pls be nice. i've also not really watched riverdale in many years so i'm trying to piece things together but it won't follow the plot very well.

-archie andrews twin sister, delilah, is fed up with him being overprotective. so when a cute serpent offers her an opportunity, she can't turn it down

"andrews," an unfamiliar voice called out. delilah hummed in response, not bothering to look who it was and instead continued piling notebooks out of her locker. "i hear your brother doesn't like you dating, he goes around and tells everyone not to go near you, 'or else'" the boy said.

"can i help you with something or...?" delilah said, closing her locker and looking at the boy.

"sweet pea," he extended his hand out to her. she readjusted the stack of book in her hands to shake his. "i've got a proposition for you," he stated.

"look, you wouldn't be the first boy to think he can get with me without my brother finding out," she started walking and followed her. "it never ends well."

"i think i can handle him," he stated. she turned to look at him and realized he had a point. he was incredibly tall and muscular. "but anyway that's not what i'm suggesting," he pulled her into an alcove. "i hate your brother, he thinks he's the shit and he keeps messing with southsiders."

"why are you telling me this?" she cut him off.

"i think we can help each other out," he said, resulting in a raised eyebrow from the girl. "you hate him for controlling you, i just hate him."

"okay, i don't hate my brother," she said.

"but you're fed up with him telling everyone not to go out with you?" he asked, and she sighed and murmured in agreement. "i'm suggesting a little revenge."

"why me?" she asked, he was getting annoyed at how she kept interrupting him.

"i'm probably the person your brother hates most, at least at this school. and i hate your brother so much, being with his sister would just kill him," he explained.

"'with' as in..." she said.

"dating," he clarified.

"let me get this straight, you want me to fake date you so you can get back at my brother for being a dick and i can get back at him for controlling my love life?"

"yep, pretty much," he shrugged.

"i'm still confused," she admitted. "if we're not actually together, you're not really getting back at him."

"if he believes we're together, then it's like i took something from him. he tries so hard to keep you away from guys, and his number one enemy being the one you defy him for. it'll make him go crazy."

"it'll make things worse, he's only gonna harass you more," delilah pointed out.

"once again, i can deal with him," he said. "just think about it," he walked away, leaving her to think.

she walked home alone and really thought about his proposal. she was fully on board with showing archie he couldn't control her, but she was scared of what he would do to sweet pea. it was all she thought about that entire night and she decided she just needed to sleep on it.

the entire next day she kept trying to find a time to talk to him but he was always with someone.

she was about to take it as a sign but as she was leaving school, she turned the corner and ran right into him. he grabbed her arm to stabilize her and raised his eyebrows at her.

"so?" he asked.

"i'm down," she told him. he smirked at her and they started walking. he led her to the back of the school where his bike was. he handed her his helmet and she hesitated before taking it.

"well it would be bad manners not to drive my girl home," he said, noticing her confused expression.

"okay hold up," she said as he mounted the bike. "i think we need to have a conversation about this."

"what is there to talk about?"

"uh, i don't know. how long are we gonna do this for?" she sat down on the ledge in front of him.

"until we decide we've had enough," he said.

"okay... how is this... gonna work?" she asked and he pondered for a moment.

"well, we should make sure archie sees us together, obviously. but we gotta keep this act up around other people too," he pulled his leg off his bike and stepped closer to her, putting his hands on her knees and spreading them so he could stand between them.

Sweet pea took the moment of silence to take a good look at her. he had seen her around school, of course, but it was always from a distance. her hair was usually messy, due to the loose curls in it.

but looking at her up close was different. her eyes were bright green and her skin was almost sickly pale. she had freckles littered about her face. she was a lot to take in. sweet pea knew he wouldn't have asked her if she wasn't at least a little bit attracted to her.

it shocked him how different she looked from her twin brother. he had bright red hair and dark eyes but her hair was pitch black and piercing green eyes.

"okay," she managed to finally get out. "i have some rules though."

"rules?" he threw his head back. "i don't really do rules."

"we get it, you're a bad boy," she rolled her eyes at him. "and yes i have rules. number one, we keep my dad out of this. he's been through a lot recently and i don't want to stress him out more," she waited for a sign be understood and when he nodded his head she continued. "number two, nothing too physical. i've never had a boyfriend before and i don't want all my firsts to be wasted on a boy-"

"like me?" he cut her off. "a serpent? a southsider?"

"who isn't actually my boyfriend," she finished, clearly annoyed.

"fine, but nobodies going to believe we're dating if i can't kiss you," he pointed out.

"you can kiss me, but i'm not doing anything more," she told him. "number three, you can't tell anyone this isn't real. if it got back to archie, neither of us would live to see another day."

"my lips are sealed," he said. "now if that's all..." he picked her up by her waist and gently placed her on the ground. "i think it's time we set the plan in motion," he gestured toward his bike.

"sure, but archie won't be home," she said as he placed the helmet on her head and messed with the straps.

"where will he be?" he got back on his bike and patted the space behind him.

"him and veronica go to pops every friday after school," she explained, carefully climbing on the bike. he grabbed her arms and placed them around his torso.

"then i guess i know where we're going," he started his bike. "hold on tight."

[demonscantgothere]

Beasts of the Hill and Serpents of the Den. Galadriel/Sauron | Halbrand. Explicit. 223.1k | 5.6k chapter [45/150] Ch. 45: Across the Divide

During the First Age, the War of Wrath changes course. On the island of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the Isle of Werewolves and one of Sauron’s former strongholds, is the seat of the Necromancer’s power. Instead of sending his wolves out to kill Finrod after capturing Felagund in his dungeons, Sauron demands an exchange for his life. Galadriel offers herself.

“What a cruel trick to play,” Thuringwethil murmured in a daze, her eyes lifting to Galadriel’s unsure gaze—and surprisingly, soothing all of her worries away. “I knew her loyalties ran deep, but I did not think she would find such a ploy amusing to pull right underneath our feet . . . ”

Slowly, Galadriel’s hand rose to her collarbone, her cool fingers laying flat against her chest just beneath the curve of her throat. “I do not think I need it anymore,” Galadriel admitted softly to Thuringwethil, feeling a new sense of kinship with the other woman—as strange as it was to feel it, it was still there, trickling through her heart like a peaceful stream in the middle of a forest, easing all of her uncertainty with the one who was once a threat to her—but no more.

“You flatter me,” Thuringwethil replied bitterly, her face twisting with her own conflicting feelings, “but once, you did. It was made for that purpose. Do not forget it.”

Keep Reading

[onepointsixkm]

Part I: Slipping Through My Fingers

Summary: The Monaco Grand Prix went up in smoke as the end of the world began. You and a group of your friends managed to escape, but not without loss, as the dead began to walk.

featuring: SV5, CL16, OP81, & LS2. (mentions of LN4, CS55, DR3, AA23, LS18, and more)

warnings: zombie apocalypse! features character death, gore, and other genre conventions/staples. please do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the potential warnings!

notes: welcome to the first chapter of “Serpents”! this is an ode to my favorite genre of media, zombie apocalypse dramas. title from the song of the same name by Sharon Van Etten.

word count: 3,776

The end of the world wasn’t a slow, quiet end.

Rather, it was a chaotic mess of an end. It was people scrambling and screaming as they tried to escape the onslaught of violence. It was blood and panic and smoke and fire. It was something out of a nightmare.

It was the feeling of Lando’s hand slipping from yours as the crowd forced you apart and away from each other. It was Alex’s screams for Lily, barely heard over her own screams of pain and terror as the undead tore into her. It was Max yelling and swearing in every language he knew as he scanned the crowd for any other familiar faces, his voice growing distant as he drifted away from you. It was the way time slowed down as Carlos’s blood splattered across your face, a frantic hand pushing you away and into Charles’s arms as an undead Lance’s teeth sunk into his shoulder.

It was the rawness of your throat as you heaved and sobbed. There was nothing left in your stomach to throw up, but you still felt sick as you looked around and realized that your little group - your friends that you had been laughing with just before the Monaco Grand Prix - had lost more than half of its members.

It was just you and Charles and Oscar and Logan and Seb. Lance had been bitten. Carlos had been bitten. Max and Lando had been separated in the crowds. Alex had gone back for Lily as she was ripped apart. And everyone else, well… you weren’t sure.

Seb stared out the windshield of the car, his face blank. His foot had dropped onto the pedal as soon as the five of you had desperately piled in. It was as your group, by that point only a fraction of the size, had reached the parking lot, that you had lost Carlos. Oscar sat in the front seat, head in his hands. Logan was next to you and Charles, his hands shaking and his eyes unfocused.

You chanced a look out the back window of the car. Smoke was rising from the track that was slowly growing smaller as you pulled away. You felt bile rising in your throat again, and you choked back your nausea as you leaned against Charles.

Charles sniffled, eyes darting all over. “Did anyone see Pierre?” he rasped, tears still falling down his face. He hadn’t let go of you since Carlos had pushed you to him, Carlos’s blood still soaking both of you. Even against the Ferrari red shirt Charles wore, the bloodstains stood out. “Or George? Did they get out?”

For a moment, everyone in the car was silent.

“No,” Oscar finally said.

“‘No,’ you didn’t see them, or ‘no,’ they didn’t get out?” Oscar was silent, but the way he met Charles’s gaze in the rearview mirror was an answer in itself. A strangled noise left Charles’s throat. You reached for his shaking hand, and he grasped on like you were his only lifeline.

Looking over to Logan, you saw him hang his head, curling into himself. He looked so small, but as his shoulders began to shake, he looked like he would disappear. “How the fuck did this happen?” he managed through his sobs.

“It was an illness,” Seb replied quietly, bitterness lacing his tone. “It’s been on the news, but it wasn’t in Europe yet. No one said anything about fucking zombies.”

Another noise left Charles, this one more of a disbelieving scoff than anything. “Well, would you have believed them?” he demanded.

Seb couldn’t say anything. Instead, he met your eyes in the rearview mirror, staring sadly at you through his reflection. You tore your gaze from his, instead staring out the window of the car. You could see the remnants of the chaos that had swept through the city. Bodies — and sometimes, what was left of bodies — were filling the street, strewn haphazardly across the pavement. Some of the undead were shuffling around, blood spilling down their clothes, all of them turning to the car as it passed them. You said a quiet thanks to whoever had made them too slow to catch the car, especially with Seb easily driving around them.

But as you relaxed, the weight of what had just happened overcame you. You bit your lip, the adrenaline finally leaving your body and allowing the swirling guilt in your gut to rise to your heart. Tears spilled over as you flexed your hand around Charles’s.

“I let go of Lando.” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them. “I had his hand, and-and… when we were running, he just— he slipped away. Why did I let go?! He’s gone and it’s my fault!”

Charles tried to hold you as you burst into tears, murmuring in French to you. You knew he was trying to comfort you, but you weren’t sure if you could take comfort in his words. Not when you could still feel the ghost of Lando’s hand as it left yours.

“It was chaos,” Seb tried to comfort you. “You tried, and that’s all that matters.” Another choked sob escaped you. His words were well meaning, but how could you pat yourself on the back for trying when you’d failed so miserably?

Oscar leaned back in his seat. “Now what?” Seb glanced at him. “We got out of that fuckfest, but now what? If it’s like this here, it’s like this everywhere. Where do we go? How do we survive? What, do we just bunker down until this all blows over? And-and what if it never does?” Oscar’s voice got lower with each question, panic seeping into the normally unflappable driver.

“Calm down.” Seb turned the car into a small alleyway, stopping it and turning around to look at everyone. “Okay. We make a game plan. Is there somewhere that we can go, that any of you know, that’s likely to be safe?”

Behind you, you could feel Charles hesitate. His family lived in Monaco, but if the circuit had exploded into that chaos, there was no guarantee that his family — his mother — was safe. Your heart broke for him. If he suggested his family home, there was a chance that he would have to see the people he loved most as those things. And no matter how much you needed a sanctuary, you couldn’t do that to Charles.

“Lando’s apartment is near here,” you volunteered instead. “I, uh. I was staying there before the Grand Prix. There’s food, and a security system. It should be safe, at least… at least for now.”

Seb nodded in approval, almost sagging in relief. “Okay. That works. We’ll head there and get our bearings, then figure out our next move. Everyone okay with that?”

There was no argument. You were at least partially sure that it was because there were no better options, but a plan was a plan. You already dreaded going back to Lando’s place, with the guilt that filled your whole body. But as Charles held onto you, muttering a “thank you” into your ear, you pushed it back.

There would be time to cry later.

The rest of the ride to Lando’s apartment was silent, with only you and Seb talking as he asked for directions and you answered. As you hit the familiar street, the one you had driven down just this morning as you laughed with Lando, your stomach jolted unpleasantly.

(The sound that was his voice screaming your name as his hand fell from yours echoed somewhere in your memories.)

You shook the memory from your mind as Seb pulled into the gated building. A bloody handprint smeared across the garage walls greeted you. You could feel Charles hold onto you a little bit tighter. Oscar sat up, on high alert. Disregarding the parking spots, Seb parked the car as close as he could to the entrance of the building, slowly putting the car in park.

Oscar moved to open his door, but Seb grabbed onto him. “Wait.” Oscar stared back at Seb, confused, but let go of the latch. Seb pressed his palm to the steering wheel, forcing it to let out one quick, sharp honk. You jumped at the sudden noise.

For one long, tense moment, you held your breath.

Nothing moved.

Seb finally relaxed and turned the car off, nodding to Oscar, who practically leapt from the passenger side. Both of them speedwalked to the entrance. You could see Seb mouthing instructions to Oscar, who listened intently, nodding along.

You turned to Logan, grabbing the younger driver’s hands. He looked up at you, and you could see a reflection of the pain and sorrow you felt in his eyes. “Logan, we have to go inside.” Logan shook his head, curling further into himself. It was like he was trying to disappear. “C’mon, Logs,” you tried to urge him.

“I don’t want to.” But his fingers curled around yours, squeezing your hand tightly. “I want to wake up now.”

You exchanged a look with Charles, both of you concerned. “Logan, sweetheart—”

“No!” He shook his head violently, yanking his hand from yours and swatting it away. “No, I don’t care! This is all a dream, okay?! And-and if I try hard enough, I’ll wake up! All nightmares end, so this one will, too!”

Logan had joined your group of escapees as you’d reached the parking lot. He’d been alone at the time, as he had been doing a last minute interview before the race started. He’d been running from a group of the undead as they followed him and a few others, but he’d been the only one who’d been fast enough to escape the miniature herd. His hands had already been covered in blood when he found you, and from the haunted look in his eyes, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to know what had happened as he ran for his life.

But even with all of that, he was still your friend, and you couldn’t just leave him behind. “I’m not leaving you here. Let’s go inside and wait for you to wake up there, okay?” you tried, forcing your voice to be as gentle as it could. Logan looked up at you, tears still silently streaming down his face as he opened and closed his mouth, struggling to say anything.

Charles suddenly called your name. You turned away from Logan, following Charles’s gaze to where a group of three zombies had rounded the corner. Panic seized you. Your eyes darted from Seb and Oscar at the entry to Charles next to you to the zombies slowly making their way towards the car to the near-catatonic Logan. They were too close, the garage too small. There was no good option.

“What the hell is taking you guys so long?!” Oscar demanded, his voice carrying across the parking garage.

“Logan won’t move!” you called back. You grabbed Logan’s hands again, gripping them forcefully as you tried to pull him towards the car door. He resisted, still shaking his head and muttering something you couldn’t hear. Charles reached in, helping you, and forced Logan to stumble to his feet. “Just keep the door open for us!”

Charles, in a split-second decision, hefted Logan over his shoulder with a grunt (a feat that would’ve had you howling with laughter on any other day) and carried him towards the building. You followed behind, making sure to keep the boys in front of you as the zombies closed in.

Seb held the door to open as Charles practically threw Logan inside, slamming the door and locking it after you made it in. “What the fuck was that?!” Charles practically spat, whirling around on Logan.

But the boy wasn’t responding, already curled up once again. But this time, his muttering was loud enough for you to make out what he was saying.

”I had his hand,” he was saying. “And they just tore into him… like it was nothing.”

All of you froze. Behind you, Oscar and Charles glanced at each other. You stared at Logan, lost for words. The only one to move was Seb, ignoring the zombies pounding against the door behind you, as he knelt in front of Logan, who slowly looked up at the older man.

”Whose hand did you have, Logan?” he asked slowly.

Logan choked on a sob. The words came spilling from his lips, and your heart sank as Logan told his story:

“Danny… I was with Danny. He came to get me, and we ran. But the stairs, we ran down the stairs— and Danny— they caught him. I was holding onto him, but-but… I could see them tearing his stomach open. Oh, fuck, I saw them pull his fucking guts out. I-I… I let go. And I ran.”

Daniel Ricciardo was dead.

So was Alex Albon, so was Lance Stroll, and so was Carlos Sainz. Four of your friends were confirmed to have been bitten or killed. Everyone else, you weren’t sure about.

“Jesus Christ,” you could hear Oscar swear behind you.

If Seb was as sick to his stomach as you were, he didn’t show it. “Alright, Logan. You did what you could, and you were right to run when you did. You’re alive because you made that choice. But if you want to honor Danny, you have to get up and stay alive. And right now, that means we have to go upstairs to Lando’s apartment. Okay?”

Logan’s tears didn’t stop, but he nodded slowly. He stood on his shaky legs with Seb’s help, but refused to meet anyone’s gaze. He just clung to Seb’s arm as Seb helped him stay balanced.

“Can you lead us upstairs? Elevators are clear, Oscar checked them. And,” he paused, lowering his voice, “we shouldn’t take Logan up the stairwell.”

You nodded in agreement. “Y-yeah, follow me.” You led them into the elevator, which thankfully, still worked. You tried not to wince at the blood on the inside doors, focusing anywhere but on the crimson splatters. All of you were silent, even Logan, who barely even let out a sniffle during the elevator ride.

The silence continued as you led your group into Lando’s apartment. It was eerily quiet in a way you’d never heard before.

The apartment had always been filled with some sort of noise, whether it be Lando’s laughter as he played games with his friends, loud music playing from the streaming room, or just the echoes of you and Lando chattering away after coming back from a night out in the city.

You suddenly felt sick again.

It took everything in you to resist dropping to your knees and crying - wailing - as you mourned your friend. Instead, you robotically moved to push the door open further and waited for everyone else to enter the house.

The only person to stop was Oscar who, with unshed tears, put a hand on your shoulder. He pulled you inside and closed the door, locking it, all with one hand. You just stared at him. As soon as the lock clicked, he turned to pull you into a fierce hug, one that communicated “I miss him” with unspoken words.

That was the last straw for you.

The dam broke as you buried your face in Oscar’s chest and cried as quietly as you could. The normally comforting hug he’d wrapped you in only made your guilt even stronger. It wasn’t just your heart that had broken when you’d let Lando go. It was Oscar’s, too. His teammate, who he’d spent the past few years with, was missing, maybe dead, and that uncertainty was what shattered your heart even further.

“Maybe he’s still out there,” Oscar whispered. “Did you see him go down?”

You shook your head as you pushed yourself further against Oscar. “I didn’t, but Osc… don’t give me hope. You saw what it was like, do you really think Lando made it out?” You didn’t want the second heartbreak. You didn’t want to know, but you wanted to hear it out loud.

For a moment though, Oscar was silent, denying you a straight answer. “I don’t know. But he’d try his hardest to find us if he got out.”

You knew he was right.

“Then,” you started, pulling yourself away from Oscar, “we have to look for him.”

“Not a chance,” Seb interrupted, emerging from the kitchen with bottles of water. “We can’t just rush out there unprepared.” You opened your mouth to protest. “I want to look for everyone else just as much as you. They’re my friends - my family - as much as they are yours. But we can’t help them if we’re not prepared.”

Hesitation filled you. Seb was right, and you knew it. Rushing to get back out there and find your friends wouldn’t do anyone any good. But on the other hand, you knew that in situations like this, time is of the essence. Seconds could mean the difference between life and death, and you didn’t want to waste any time. You couldn’t afford to let too much time pass.

Lando couldn’t afford to let any time pass.

“Okay.” Charles piped up from where he was sitting, a bag in his hands. “Then we prepare. We get ready to go back out there, and we go looking for our friends.” Determination flared in his eyes as he looked at Seb. “We can’t just leave them.”

Seb nodded in agreement, a flash of pride coming across his face. “Then let’s get prepared. Zombies, right? What do we know?”

To your surprise, Logan was the one to pipe up. “The infection spreads through bites. Just like the movies. But it’s fast. If you get bit, it’s over in minutes. That is,” he hesitated, “if you don’t get eaten first.”

“They’re slow, too. Nasty in numbers, but easy enough to deal with if there’s only a few of them.” Oscar crossed his arms. “Probably a good idea to… to target the brain…” he trailed off.

Lance got bit.

An uncomfortable silence fell over all of you, hesitation clear on everyone’s faces. You looked over at Charles, horror replacing that fire of determination. You both knew what going back meant.

Carlos got bit.

Your heart broke again.

“We’ll worry about what we find when we find it.” Seb’s voice cut through the uncertain thoughts. “And we’ll do what we need to do when it needs doing. For now, don’t think about it.”

“Kind of hard not to think about it.”

Seb shot Logan a look. “Rely on me if you need it. Let’s not do anything too reckless as we look for everyone else.” He looked around at all of you. “We’ve all got to look out for each other,” he finished.

Oscar shifted on his feet. “So, how do we prepare?” He crossed his arms, trying to look older and stronger than he really was.

Seb ran a hand through his hair. “Logan and me, we’ll deal with food. Anything that isn’t bad, or won’t go bad before we can eat it.” Logan nodded, already turning to look through the kitchen. “Oscar, start looking for things we can use to defend ourselves. Uh, baseball bats, knives, anything like that.” Oscar ducked into the hallway that led to Lando’s bedroom. “And you two,” he gestured to you and Charles, “gather toiletries and clothes, and pack it all together. Medical supplies, too.”

You followed Charles into Lando’s bathroom. You tried to ignore the sight of your scattered toiletries - face creams and skincare and makeup - scattered across his bathroom counter, intermixing with his that he’d carelessly tossed around earlier that morning. Pushing past the sight, you grabbed toothpaste and soap, shoving it into the bag Charles had picked up earlier.

“Are you okay?” You looked up at where Charles was leaning against the doorway, watching you with a frown. “I mean… that’s a stupid question, I know. But do you… I mean, you don’t need to be here. Doing this. Uh, packing all of this. Not if it’s going to hurt you.”

You managed a smile, one you knew must’ve looked weak, but it was the best you could do. “I’m good, Charles. Really. This is more important than…” you hesitated as you picked up Lando’s shaving cream, “than however it is I’m feeling. I have to keep it together. For him.”

After a moment of silence, you could feel Charles move. He pulled some shampoo and towels from the bathroom closet, dropping them near you to pack. The two of you moved in silence, emptying Lando’s bathroom of any essentials you could find, pushing past the painful reminders of the peace that had existed only hours before.

“Charles?” A noise of acknowledgement. “Do you think anyone else made it out?”

He paused, an unopened box of toothpaste in his hand. “I have to believe they did,” he admitted. “If I stop believing that others are alive, or start thinking that we’re all that’s left, I’ll lose my mind. And we can’t have that. So, yes. I think others made it. I’m not sure who, or where they went, but we aren’t alone.” He offered you a watery smile.

You looked at his face, at his hesitant grin, and you stood. You grabbed one of the washcloths that sat on the edge of the sink, still damp from the morning, and pressed it against his cheek. As you pulled the cloth away, both of you gazed at the blood you’d wiped away.

“You had… something,” you muttered. The smile had fallen off of his face, and he only managed a quiet thanks in French.

You turned to look in the mirror, seeing blood splattered on your skin, too. You quickly wiped it away before throwing the tainted cloth into the sink. You didn’t want to think about it.

“Hey.” You both looked towards the door, where Oscar stood, a pile of clothes in hand. “I figured you guys might want to change. Get into some clean clothes before we head out.”

Charles took the pile of clothes from Oscar. You almost cried when he handed you Lando’s familiar sweatshirt with the Quadrant logo emblazoned on it. But you took it, holding onto it tightly as more tears came. Charles gave you a gentle squeeze before leaving the bathroom to give you privacy.

It was only after the bathroom door swung shut that you finally sunk to your knees, burying your face into the soft sweatshirt, and sobbed loudly, allowing the fabric to swallow your cries as you finally let yourself grieve.

next chapter

[terymlxyrstdus]

Barty: *constantly flirts with Evan and almost kisses him*

Evan: *actually kisses Barty*

Barty: *runs away in gay because he didn’t think that far*

[yourjughead]

Attack Dog pt 5

Sweet Pea X Reader enemies to lovers

Warnings: Fluff and smut

A/N: Final part.

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

3rd person

“So YN, tell us who did that to you already!”

“Not a chance Kevin” you laughed, pulling your jumper closer into your neck, trying to cover what Sweet Pea left you with three nights earlier. Archie wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he pulled you through the corridor Monday morning.

“Kiss and tell YN, we'll keep your secret safe” you could only roll your eyes at him, knowing that would never happen. You didn't want to tell them what happened between Sweet Pea and you, you didn't really even understand it enough to explain. The only thing you understood was it made Jughead insanely uncomfortable and that alone made you insanely happy.

Sweet Pea POV

Jones and I didn't really speak after he stormed out of my trailer on Saturday morning. Man I wish I got a picture of his face at the sight of YN. Priceless.

We all sauntered up the school hallway, Jughead keeping his distance from me. I met her eyes midway through laughing at whatever her friends said as I passed. I didn't look for long, afraid if I did I'd have no choice but to pin her to the locker and finish what we started. I don't like seeing Archie hang off her, that should be my arm. I shook my head. I'm being crazy, it was a moment, these things happen. Won't happen again.

-

I swear it was like she was avoiding me after that. I didn't see her in the halls, I didn't see her class or after school for the rest of the week. I sat on my sofa thinking about what happened in this trailer a week earlier. What gives? A knock to the trailer door snapped me out of it.

“YN?”

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah wh-” she then pressed her hands into my chest, pushing me deeper into the trailer, catching and closing the front door with her foot. She pulled her shirt from over her head and stood in front of me in her bra and jeans. What is happening? What is happening?

“What is happening?”

“Fancy some stress relief Sweet Pea?” Oh hell yeah.

3rd person

Sweet Peas hands went straight to your hips, the feeling of small calluses meeting your soft sides sent pulses down you both. He met your neck, the same place he had a week ago as his hands moved to cup your backside, lifting you from the floor to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Why can't I keep away from you?” You breathed, the hairs on Sweet Peas neck standing on their end.

“Why does that make me so happy?” Was all he could manage before reconnecting to your neck.

Sweet Pea carried you into his room before throwing you onto the bed. You knotted your fingers through his hair and forced down the moan trying to escape at the pleasure of having him nip you. You tugged his hair until he pulled from you to face you.

“Sweet Pea if we kiss…this might become more than what either of us want”

“I want all of you”

Sweet Pea almost cautiously lowered his mouth to yours until they met again. Much like the first time electricity coursed through both of you but unlike the last time, neither pulled away, only growing hungrier.

You could feel him hardening against your thigh, no longer able to fight the little victory you were going to give him, you moaned gently. He smirked hard into the kiss before it became more feverish. Your hand ran across him beneath the fabric of his jeans, his turn to groan.

You both began to rip the clothes from one another until you wrapped your legs around him to pulling him in closer. You both wanted every inch of skin to touch. His hand went from your chest, slowly sliding down to your inner thigh, teasingly.

Your fingers began dragging up and down his bare back before digging into his shoulders at the feeling of him entering you. You both let out a breathless moan at the sensation. You wrapped your legs around his torso at this while he placed his hands on your hips to steady himself. He slowly began dragging in and out before the sensation was too much and he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. The sensations growing and growing and growing until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name making him go over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name. Sweet Pea collapsed on top of you before rolling over and hauling your shaking body to his.

“I had no idea how much I needed to hear you say my name like that YN” Sweet Pea finally found some composure to rasp out. You tried not to cringe in embarrassment as you buried a laugh into his chest.

“Don't get shy on me now YN” he returned the laugh and you smiled, pulling the covers up around the both of you, tangling in your legs.

“YN…I'm never gonna not be in the Serpents”

“I know”

“But I also really like kissing you”

“I know”

“Can both be true at the same time?” You reached up towards him to meet his lips again.

“Are you still a Serpent now Snake brain?”

“....yeah?”

“Well I guess both can be true at the same time”

~

Sweet Pea POV

I loved being with her, even if we were keeping it on the quiet side. I felt like she was starting to understand the Serpents and maybe even appreciate them, even if it was still from afar. She would come and go from my home without notice and I loved every moment she was with me. The only thing I found hard was not screaming to the world she was mine and I was hers even though we decided to just be casual. If spending every moment we could together be called casual that is. Continuing on like we still hated each other in public became a bit of a game and a bit of a turn on. Watching other guys fawn over her though was definitely not.

I filled my locker with books I pretended to read as Jones stood next to me watching the world go by. We had kind of decided silently to forget what he thinks he saw between me and YN three months ago. If only he knew what happened that night had far and beyond escalated passed that.

“Fuck it” was all I heard from Jones before he sprung off the locker and towards YN. In one smooth moment he caught her by the arms as she walked past with Archie and pulled her into kiss him. Kiss him. YN is kissing him. Kissing him. It really felt like every single emotion possible coursed through me. I had no idea what my body was going to do. Was I going to vomit? Was I going to faint? No. I was having an out of body experience as I stood, walked over, caught Jones by the shoulders and flung him backwards with what strength my shocked state had and flew him into the locker I had just left. It felt like slow motion and then, it felt like motion sickness.

“Sweet Pea!” Was she shouting at me? I really felt like the earth wasn't under me and then it wasn't. Jones jumped from the ground and straight into me. If I wasn't in a daze he wouldn't have taken me off the ground but it felt like I was out at sea. We rolled around the floor, I dodge his hands and tried to push him off me. I didn't fight back, not even when he clipped my jaw, I probably deserve what's happening. YN was shouting at the two of us until Archie and Fangs hauled Jones from me, cursing out loud. Fangs might kill him for me. I sat up from the ground, the whole hallway's eyes on me and my bleeding lip. I found my sea legs take me running from the scene and out into the car park, YN hot on my heels.

“What the hell Sweet Pea?! That wasn't very casual!” I heard her shout from behind me, her voice echoing off the empty car park.

“What if I don't want to be casual anymore YN?! What if I never wanted to be?!” I could see this caught her off guard. I was finally thinking out loud.

“Finally, you were getting hard to read” was all she said with laugh before rushing to me, wrapping her arms around me and kissing me. Electricity returned. The ground beneath my feet returned to a solid state. We parted smiling, over her shoulder I saw our friends at the school entrance. Not a single face without shock or surprise. I couldn't care less.

“I guess I'm not the only attack dog in the relationship” she smiled, wiping the blood from my lip. Relationship, this was a relationship

[peppermint-whiskers]

God's Hosts

One Messenger, and one as of yet undecided. The only ones able to look upon Elohim's face without falling apart at the seams, hear his voice without feeling like their ears might explode. The only ones whose very bodies are subject to his will

They get some great hugs and kisses out of it tho uwu

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♥

hello, i hope everyones having a good wednesday!! my brain, for some unknown reason, believes it to be late fall right now. maybe i'm just craving that chill in the air AHAH

thank you to the fantastic @skyrim-forever and @umbracirrus for tagging me this week!! <33333

tagging the amazing @thequeenofthewinter @oblivions-dawn @orfeoarte @changelingsandothernonsense

@viss-and-pinegar @saltymaplesyrup @archangelsunited @dirty-bosmer @totally-not-deacon !! as always, there's no pressure, but i'd love to see what you're working on. <3333

this is a section from the very rough draft of chapter 39 of Cycle of the Serpent. the trio are becoming intrigued about varnius junius' plea, and have decided to do something about it.

Falk Firebeard, the steward to Jarl Elisif, had been here a great many years. He said so as he talked to the trio, his voice inviting, with the faintest hint of surprise that they were back. At first he must have assumed they were here to petition for the Burning of King Olaf, a sigh heaving down his lungs and his hands rubbing at his face. When Emeros explained the real reason they were here today, he visibly appeared to relax, and made a comment about the man that the Bosmer had mentioned being jumpy at the best of times. "I'll be honest with you, I was planning to let that go," he admitted in a half-hush, apparently unneeded, as the court made it clear the prior day that they did share his opinion. "If it were anything, I'm certain that Sybille's scrying would have picked up on it." The court wizard, seated near the Jarl, gave Wyndrelis a curious look, her eyes practically luminous under her dark hood. He swallowed an uncomfortable lump in his throat. He didn't enjoy the way she scrutinized him, or his friends. Her eyes, a particular shade of citrine which looked to be peering right into him and down to the veins beneath his skin, set the mild panic to rise, sensation a slow crawl up his back of something very off about the woman. "Yes, but what if there's something the scrying hasn't picked up on? I'm no stranger to magic," Wyndrelis managed out, "if there is something going on, wouldn't it be better to investigate?"

The man rubbed his face, hands fidgeting with one another idly. His glances to Elisif, her housecarl, and other figures in the court landed him with approving nods, and Falk again spoke up. "There have been reports of... weird happenings near Wolfskull Cave. Travelers disappearing, odd lights. I suspect wild animals or perhaps bandits." "Travelers disappearing?" Emeros repeated, his eyes wide as the words left him half-breathless. "And you didn't think that this was worth an investigation?" "Again, I thought it might be wild animals and bandits," Falk justified, enunciating the statement. "We all did. They've taken advantage with the war going on, all this uncertainty, no one is truly safe. But I digress, if you really think it's worth looking into, then I will make sure that you three are repaid for your work." A housecarl nearest Falk scoffed into a drink, prompting the court wizard to scowl. "Is there something funny, Erikur?" "No, no, not at all." The man rolled his eyes as he sipped from his goblet, a sort of wine from the smell of it. "I just find it a bit interesting that we're sending three strangers to investigate Haafingar's matters. This should be the work of someone from our own Hold, not these elves who had to get a military pardon when they first arrived here." Phoebe, over at her desk, winced. She looked to Erikur, a sharp, probably dangerous gaze on anyone else that merely served to make her appear like a mouse scolding a wolf. "Besides, our coffers are emptier by the day. What can we even reward three would-be bandit-slayers when they inevitably return without having spilt so much as skeever blood?"

"Erikur," the hulking figure on the other side of the throne snapped, "that's enough." Erikur shrugged, and took another long drink from his goblet. Elisif looked over the trio, her face worn into a dreary resignation. "Then what do you propose? We've already sent a detachment to Dragon Bridge, and Sybille's scrying has shown nothing, yet, I must admit that the idea of leaving this uninvestigated makes me uneasy." Erikur's focus darted around the room. "We should send a handful of our own soldiers. Perhaps discuss it with General Tullius? See if he will offer some help." The room descended into murmurs of agreement, the idea clearly tantalizing to the court. Wyndrelis frowned. He looked to Emeros and Athenath, both equally unsatisfied with this resolution. "I will send word to Captain Aldis, and ask if he's any new recruits he might test by sending them that way. Phoebe, draft a letter to the Captain, and deliver it as soon as possible," Elisif commanded, tension leaving her as she watched the pale-haired girl scratch something down into a new roll of paper. Athenath spluttered, "but what if it's something- I don't know, important?" "Then our soldiers will have it taken care of, instead of recent strangers dirtying their hands." Erikurs cavalier reply left the Altmer again struggling for words, Emeros placing a gentle palm on his shoulder. Wyndrelis shrunk back, his steps taking him to the stairs. A few mutters from the Bosmer, and Athenath was moving to the stairwell, face scrunched in a look of intense frustration with the dismissal. As the trio left the Blue Palace, the sneer never quite fell from Athenath's face, and Wyndrelis swallowed down the urge to ask of it, or to pry into why Erikurs words prodded so harshly into them as to leave their features twisted, until the Altmer ran a hand down their face and features relaxed, like he'd wiped it all away and resigned to the outcome. This wasn't ideal, but when was anything the trio had been through in the past few weeks?

[smolvenger]

Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter 22 (Loki x Fem Reader Crossover Series, Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book, A Court of Mist and Fury and onwards. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: Being invited to a dinner party, you and your companions seize the chance to get the first trove.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: >4K

Warnings: Some spicy flirting, but no actual smut. Not much, some angst. Greif and mentions of bullying. If I miss anything, let me know! Proceed with caution, but I take full responsibility for how I portray dark subject matter and if it is not done tastefully or well. If I miss anything that could be triggering, it is your responsibility to tell me as soon as possible so I can tag it here. Otherwise, enjoy!

A/N: I have had major writer's block since moving into an apartment and starting grad school, but maybe something will come up and I will be blocked from Character AI bc I waste all of my time there now. Anyways, it is not perfect, but I just wanted it done. Ta da!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

You, Edith, your husband, Stella, and Sif huddled on a cafe table. The building was painted in pastel greens and pinks, with wide windows filtering in sunlight as guests chatted around all of you. But it was not so noisy that one could not focus on the manuscript. Edith sat at the other end, nervously drinking her coffee, her sandwich untouched. The rest of you huddled together tight to read it together, Sif being the one to turn the pages. 

Loki did raise his eyebrow at a few points, Stella’s bulged out. Sif only had no facial reaction.

Edith’s story was about a ghost who haunted a woman in her home. She added details of the dark house and creaking wood. Of the ghost's skeletal fingers, a skull-like face was blank except for a wide mouth, open with sharp teeth. The characters seemed as real as flesh, with little details that only someone who observed others could make. At one point, the woman was asleep when the ghost screamed. The noise rattled the house and would not stop, waking the woman up in fright. It made you shiver. 

The heroine had a past, as did the house, but it was not revealed. As you got to the end of the snippet, you were eager to know the truth, but Sif set the pages down on the table.

“Miss Cushing, that was incredible!” Stella cried, a hand over her heart. Perhaps it was still racing from the terror of the story.

Edith nodded with a smile, a blush coming up on her.

“Oh, thank you!” she replied. She sat up straighter, and her voice brighter.

“I had chills!” you added on.

“It…wasn’t bad at all,” Loki admitted.

“Well, when I was young. I saw something- and heard noises. I believe I encountered a ghost. I never forgot it,” she admitted. “Father never believed me, only a friend did.”

“A ghost?” Sif asked, she folded her arms.

Edith reached over. She carefully put her papers into the folder and wrapped her arms around it like a baby.

“Yes.” was all she said.

“And has this ghost been to you since, Miss Cushing?” Loki asked.

Edith set down the folder.

“No…. I wrote to explore that. I had an idea and it would never leave me. It was like a fever- I had to write it down. Besides, I always loved stories and books…Mama was the only woman I knew who loved them too and then she…she passed.”

She slumped, her eyes growing vacant. Stella reached out and held her hand.

“She would be proud of you now. Creating something and putting it out there, takes great courage,” you consoled.

A small smile flickered on Edith.

“When did she pass?” asked Stella.

“When I was ten,” answered Edith.

“All this while still a child? You poor thing!” replied Stella.

Edith let out a deep sigh.

“I hope you get published. There are women writers out there- you will be one of them in enough time if you keep at it,” you encouraged her.

“Thank you I…” there were tears in her eyes.

“Oh, is something wrong? We didn’t- offend you?” you asked. Digging into your reticule, you pulled out a handkerchief. Edith gripped onto it, twisting it anxiously.

“It’s only…I…I…” began Edith.

She hesitated. Her lips quivering, then she hung her head low and began her confession.

“No, you didn’t offend me at all, it’s only…I…I hated girls my age. When I was little, I was so obsessed with all those things- ghosts, death, books, novels. I struggled to relate to them when I was little because I just wanted to talk about what I was reading. They didn’t even…try to make room for me. I was excluded. I misunderstood their games and their words. I tried so hard, but it was never good enough. And as a child they-they…”

She paused.

“Mrs. McMichael’s daughter Eunice and her friends always bullied me. They brought me along to be their fool, something to kick at. And I…I just felt so alone…I always did…I didn’t like them. They laughed at me. Teased me. Locked me in rooms. Called me names. And even now that we’re grown…they still keep at it. And I always have to spend time with them. Trying to discuss ribbons at least and dealing with their jabs at most. And Mrs. McMichael…she…I’m always so scared I will say something wrong, something bad…and they’ll laugh at me again. I try so hard to be nice to them. To not strike back because it will only make things worse. But…I could never be myself. But even when I barely said anything,  they would always find a way to insult me. To make me less. I didn’t want to go to balls. Go to anything. I didn’t want to go somewhere where I’d be a figure of scorn…and I was…I was always alone…”

“They’re cowards and fools,” Sif spat.

Edith smiled at that, wiping a few small tears with the handkerchief. 

“Yes, they are. But…not since…since now I…I never could speak to anyone other than Michael, much less another woman, and I…I…” she babbled.

She smiled lightly, her tears still in her small eyes. 

“Not until today. When I met all of you,” she completed.

“I guess we can all consider each other friends. And I’m glad to have you as one, Edith” you replied.

Edith then handed the handkerchief back, her face pink.

“Oh goodness, I just cried in public,” she sighed.

“It’s alright, it was rather small,” Stella assured her with a smile.

There was a small pause. Edith had gathered herself. Her appetite returned and she ate her sandwich. Topics went back and forth as the mood lightened. As the bill was paid, she turned to the rest of you.

“Oh- there is a dinner party later this week at my place. Father and I are hosting. It’s going to be a smaller, intimate affair but he said I could invite anyone I wanted…But…could I invite all of you?” she asked.

Loki raised an eyebrow.

“I think that-”

Clutching his hand, you cut in, interrupting him with an enthusiastic smile.

“We would love to be invited! Can my husband’s friends come too? In total- that should make eight of us, if you have the seats!” you replied.

Loki looked at you, but you squeezed his fist, signaling him to not speak. 

“Yes, of course!” Edith promised. “Where are all of you staying.”

This time, you turned to Loki. He replied that his friend Mr. Pine found a hotel for all of them and that the RSVPs could be forwarded to the address and hotel rooms. Edith vowed to do so, scribbling the address on paper and saying the invites would arrive shortly. Saying your goodbyes, she then left the cafe with a bounce in her step.

Once the door closed, Loki flipped his face to all of you. 

“What in the seven hels is going to a Midgard banquet going to accomplish?” he asked.

“That banquet is exactly where we need to be,” Sif replied. She made glares here and there to make sure no mortal was watching. Or a possible spy. 

“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“Edith has the ring. YN’s powers sensed it,” Stella explained.

“It’s in her house,” you added. “And unless you know how to break into a house tonight and not raise any suspicions with Edith, go ahead and say so.

Loki let out an exhale. His face relaxed.

“Oh…well then… we got lucky. Too lucky. To think me and the variants did all of that foolish searching when our dear, fair ladies walked right into it!” he commented.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The invitations arrived on notes the color of snow. The days seemed long and slow before the evening of the fateful dinner party arrived. Five of you, it was noted, all had similar faces and voices, the variants all agreed to tell others that they were distant relations in case someone asked questions. The men donned evening tuxedos. You were in a rich, dark green gown, Stella her sky blue, and Sif one of wine red.

“I should go. I want to be in the search. And I don’t want to be stuck where it’s dull,” Sif insisted.

“I’ll go with you, you need my powers to find the ring. And if Grendel were to strike, he wouldn’t do it in the middle of a crowded party,” you nodded.

It was then decided. You and Sif would look, while the rest distracted the hosts and partygoers.

Your cabs pulled up to the house. As servants took your coats and escorted you inside, you noted the light wood, the grandfather clock and mirrors, and the elaborate glass windows. Warm, light, and sweet.

“One would think this is like a fairy house.,” Thomas commented, looking about.

There were footsteps and distant chatter of a few guests. Then in came Edith, dressed in a cream dress with ruffles at the long neck and sleeves.

“Oh! Our party! Hello- welcome!” she greeted.

All of you exchanged greetings and names, ever polite and gracious to the strangers in your party. She smiled at you and the ones she met, and then she shook hands with Hal, Jonathan, Robert…

She paused with Thomas, locking eyes with her. She partially froze. Her smile dropped. Then she found herself again, her eyes flicking down and then back up.

“And you, sir?” she asked.

“Sir Thomas Sharpe, esquire. And Miss Cushing- and I hear you are a talented writer, too, I presume?” he asked. He smiled back. But it was different than the merely happy-to-be-here-please-don’t-suspect-a-thing manners of the others. His eyes shined on her. 

“Yes..yes, I am,” she admitted shyly. Though you could see her cheeks were pink.

“And of ghost stories, I heard?” he added.

“Oh- yes, that is my specialty,” she answered. She beamed at him like there was no one else in the party.

“Well then, I have a particular fondness for them. You must promise to let me read it, and if not- then tell me every last little detail about it,” he said.

She nodded and said she would. Then the door opened with a couple that just came in and she excused herself to greet them, but not before looking at Thomas one last time.

“Ah, the large party,” said a baritone voice.

There entered an older man, tall and broad with an impressive, grey beard. He smiled at each of you. But he turned to you, Sif, and Stella first.

“And you three are the ones who defended my daughter against the notorious Mrs. McMichael, yes?” he asked.

“Yes, we were the ones present,” you answered.

“Well then, I will always offer my warmest gratitude. Mrs. McMichael is fond of kicking the hornet's nest, we shall say,” he replied. 

He reached out his hand and you shook it, his skin calloused. “I am Mr. Cushing.”

Edith led you down the short hall to the dining room. There were lit candles everywhere, making the scene lush and romantic. The table was set with a white cloth and vases of flowers and candelabras. The place was decorated with tall china cabinets, a stone fireplace, and a wall with tall windows. Appetizers were served on porcelain.  Water was served in one glass and wine in another. 

You waited through the courses. Engaging in topics as they came and went. The men seemed to all be doing fine. Though there were a few odd questions about the “business trip” and how they were related, Loki came up with lies on the spot to satisfy them. Sif held her posture uptight and helped herself to the main course, eating heartily and quickly. Stella cut up her chicken into small bits and always smiled.  Edith and Thomas exchanged several glances and smiles, even when others were talking.

“Why, this is such a beautiful place, Miss Cushing! And what an elegant cake!” Stella praised as dessert arrived.

“Oh, thank you. The cook has never failed us once. Wait until you try a bite!” Edith said.

Taking in a deep breath, you calmed yourself. You made your jaw unclench and relaxed your shoulders. Focusing on the blank white of the tablecloth, you reached out your senses.

Ignoring the sounds of eating and sipping, the whispering of servants, you focused on the ring. Something was pulling you above the stairs. Edith’s bedroom was down that hall. It poked at you like an insistent child.

But where exactly was-

“And Mrs Laufeyson, how did you meet your husband?” asked Mr. Cushing.

Snapping back to the present, you looked up and smiled.

“Oh…I was dreadfully ill. And he heard of me and offered his help to make sure I had medical care. He saved my life…”

You turned to Loki.

“And not just my body, far more than that” she replied.

Loki sat up, his jaw a little loose. Then he smiled.

“Oh, how romantic!’ cried one guest.

Taking a bite of cake, you found it was layered, delicate, and sweet. 

Slices were eaten and servants cleared plates. Some ladies went to one parlor and the men were trickling to another, but there were exceptions. Edith and Thomas were by the fire, talking and chatting- you even saw Edith laugh lightly. It was Jonathan who walked up to the host himself, Mr. Cushing, and was asking him about his business. Loki was beside him, in case any gaps needed filling. The rest of the men had the other variants, content to drink brandy and smoke, and seem innocent. Stella was listening intently to old ladies gossip, as they led her to the drawing room.

Loki then went up to you.

“Ah, and is it time?” he asked.

“Yes, it is,” you answered him quietly.

You shared a look at Sif. She nodded her head. 

Both of you walked over to a far corner.

Loki raised his hand and two duplicates of you both appeared. Your husband smirked.

“Ah, now two of my lovely wife? Our nights could become a lot more interesting…” he whispered.

“Oh, stop it!” you teased.

He raised an eyebrow.

“But would you like a duplicate of me? Hm? To have two of your trickster god worshiping you at once? Pleasuring you until you couldn’t remember your name?” he whispered.

Feeling your toes curl in your shoes, you lightly swatted his arm.

“If my husband could control his lust for one hour, we have a ring to find,” you reminded him.

He gave you a wink, and then walked away with the duplicates to join the other men.

Making sure your steps were light, you both picked up your skirts and scurried up the steps. The servants were too busy with the party to take note. But you couldn’t waste time before one of them saw something.

You quickened to Edith’s room at the end of the hall. Reaching out your hand, you made sure it unlocked and got inside.

Turning around, you made sure the door was quietly closed and locked.

It was dark from the night, and full of books and childhood toys. Both of you eyed around.

“Use your gifts, find where it is!” Sif insisted.

Taking in another breath, you readied yourself. Ready to reach out your gifts and-

The door creaked open.

Both of you turned around.

The door opened by itself. The door handle still clicking up and down. It was a warm night and warm from the many people. But the room itself had turned cold. Uncomfortably cold.

“What-what is that?” you asked. Feeling the color drain from your face.

“The windows are closed- there is no wind” observed Sif. 

A figure emerged at the end of the hall, hidden by the shadows.

A servant? No-this wasn’t a servant. It was a tall figure, dressed in black with a long, black veil as if in mourning. But there were no widows in the party guests, much less one dressed like that.

The woman moved over.

No- she didn’t move…

She glided over.

In a heartbeat, there was a gust of cold wind and she flew over. Her veiled face, you realized, was nothing more than a pitch-black skull. Hollow eye sockets. Black pitch dripped over her skeletal features.

She let out a scream before either of you could.

The specter flew over and grabbed you both by each arm. Reaching out, you saw her hands were only bones. Her touch was so cold, it numbed your skin. She shook both of you.

“THIEVES! THEIVES! THEIVES!” she screeched. 

She threw both of you. You and Sif hit a wall and then fell onto the floor. You let out a sound despite yourself, catching yourself onto the rug below.

Sif reached her hand and put it over your mouth. 

“If you scream, the servants and guests will come up,” she argued.

You had to bite your tongue. The lights in the room flickered on and off rapidly. The temperature was freezing in that room, and the specter pointed a bony finger toward you.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? STAY AWAY FROM HER! BURGLARS! THEIVES!” the spectre hissed.

You removed Sif’s hand, though kneeling, you were shaking. Books toppled from a bookshelf and papers on a desk flew about.

“Who are you? Are allied with Grendel?” you asked in a quiet voice.

The Spectre did not react. She only kept screeching.

“DO NOT LAY A HAND ON HER! BURGLAR!”

Sif unsheathed her sword.

“Grendel, no doubt. Something of his,” she muttered.

Sif ran forward, and with a grunt, she stabbed the woman through the stomach.

But there was no blood. And the specter did not budge. She did not seem the least bit hurt in any way.

She let out another scream- an ugly sound, like a broken sob, one that almost tore you.

Sif’s jaw hung open in surprise. The specter grabbed Sif by the throat.

“DO-NOT-TOUCH-HER!” it warned.

Sif struggled and tried to loosen, but the specter held on tight.

The memories of Edith at the cafe went back to you. It made sense- Edith saw a ghost when she was very young…she must have seen it here…it must have been right after…after she lost…

Everything made sense.

With shaky legs, you got back up and stated.

“I know who you are…you’re Mrs. Cushing- you’re Edith’s mother!” you declared.

The ghost paused, turning her skeletal face to you. The wind in the room vanished.

“We are not here to hurt your daughter- and that is my friend. We are here to help her, please let her go,” you asked.

The ghost released her skeletal hand. Sif fell to the floor, coughing and gasping in the air. You rushed forward and helped her.

“There is a ring Edith has…and it’s one of Grendel’s. It looks like this…” you began. From your pocket, you got out the copy.

The ghost looked at it.

“Do you know who Grendel is? His mortality is stuck in a few items. Including a ring like this. If he remains in power…he could hurt Edith. If we find the ring and destroy it, then he’ll be destroyed…Please…you only want to protect her. That’s why you were always watching over her, all that time she thought she was alone…and she was not. Could you help us?”

The ghost looked at you. It exhaled, the shadows around it flittering.

She took her finger and pointed to a chest. A drawer opened. And out floated a locked box. It unlocked and then floated over to your hands.

Looking inside were a few jewelry items…including that very ring.

You looked up at her.

“Thank you,” you said.

Sif plucked out the ring. You replaced it with the duplicate ring, setting in within the few earrings and trinkets.

The small box floated up, locked, and then was put in the drawer, where it shut.

The ghost let out another sound, like an exhale and a moan. The papers shuddered again and the grandfather in the clock rang the hour.

Then the shadows vanished, as did the ghost. Warmth returned to the room again, as did the light.

You cupped your mouth again, catching your breath.

“Oh…oh gods…” you whispered.

Sif pocketed the ring. Without saying a word, she looked at you and grabbed your hand.

“Hurry, princess,” she urged.

Both of you shuffled at once out of the room. Downstairs, the party remained as normal. It was as if no one heard any screams or rattling coming from upstairs.

Steps light, desperate to escape the scene, both you and Sif hurried out of the room. Your feet light. So there wasn’t a rumble as you went across the hall. Down the stairs. Squeezing your eyes shut to concentrate, you signaled Loki.

“We have it! Send the duplicates!”

Sure enough, your duplicates turned a corner of a wall outside of the parlor. You both walked over. They vanished like mist. 

You took their places and walked in. Sipping coffee with the other ladies making idle chatter. Stella glanced at you both. You gave her a smile and a nod and her shoulders relaxed.

Drinking your tepid coffee, you let out an exhale as if to wash away everything that happened.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You both staid for two more days to avoid suspicion.  But on the last day, Edith hurried to your hotel. She embraced you and Stella warmly, (though Sif seemed a little stiff as she did). The other gentlemen nodded.

“May I…may I write, please? I would like to hear from you…all of you,” Edith said,her eyes glancing to Thomas and then back. You felt bad for her, the poor girl would be at the mercy of the McMichaels again. 

“We will. We’ll visit too if we can,” you promised her. 

Thomas then stepped forward, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“May I have the pleasure of writing to you as well, Miss Cushing?” he asked.

She jumped at first. Her jaw lowered briefly, and then she smiled.

“Why- Yes, please,” she answered.

He took her hand and kissed it. You could feel the fluttering from Edith herself. Hal cocked an eyebrow, but Robert rolled his eyes.

Once she left, Jonathan made sure your keys were all returned. Loki took a hand and flicked open a portal.

One down, three more to go you silently counted out. But perhaps more than just ghosts awaited the next one. Things even worse…

[roseserpentpress]

Zosan cat fic anthology (plus the tiger Zoro figure I had just finished making a little while ago!)

Fic links, comments and a photo of my cat below:

Having read a few zosan cat-related fics, I thought it would be really fun to make a small, cat themed zosan anthology, and here it is! To my delight, I found a paw print font (pawprints on defont) but to my annoyance it had no option to have no pawprints on the letters which made it look too busy, nor was there already a version of the font without pawprints, so for the first time I broke out fontforge to make my own version of the font in which I dropped the pawprints. I also drew little cat Zoros and Sanji's for each of the main stories title pages; bookbinding really is a good mash of different hobbies and skills I swear. Also on the mention of other hobbies, I was well pleased that I finished the book and my tiger Zoro figure relatively closely so I could take a photo of them together; here's the post for more photos of the figure and the post for the progress pics!

Also amusingly, when I originally was putting together the anthology, I had not added the second part of stay, and had assumed it would be a somewhat thinner small volume then it is... Which is rather incorrect. I do have to say it's a truly delightful proportion, being this thick and small! I'm also quite pleased at how the cover turned out, with the little gold pawprints. Originally for the title I was going to find a different name and then just went for the one I had originally named the file after, since it's well themed. Wait actually I think I was going to use ships cat and just now realized that... Ooops. Oh well. Also, as a bonus: here's my old cat hanging out on my lap while I was working on the gold foiling!

Fics include:

Stay by @itsmylifekay (NW, 21.5 k)

Sanji doesn't know what he's done in a past life to deserve this, but somehow when Zoro gets turned into a cat he's the one stuck on babysitting duty. How someone that small can cause so much trouble, he'll never understand.

But even after all the hell he's put through, he still manages to fall in love.

Without Words (NW, 3.8 k)

(stay part ii)

Sanji likes to dote on the people he cares about, likes to express himself fully and without reservation. But sometimes that’s hard to do living on a pirate ship, especially when the person he wants to be affectionate with is a prickly, stubborn asshole of a man.

Or, Zoro gets a bath.

Cat's Cradle by Hazel_Athena (T, 21.5k)

In which a run in with a new Devil Fruit user leaves Sanji with an unexpectedly furry problem.

Ship's Cat by @helloharubo (T, 3k)

The Going Merry has a mouse infestation. Despite Usopp's attempts, Sanji has yet to find a solution to the problem. Enter Zoro, the world's deadliest mouser.

or

Zoro is the ship's cat and expects rewards.

[beastsovrevelation]

Lady Crowley 🐍 (lineart version)

[edsheeranong]

Sweet Pea x Fem OC

Pt. 2

archie andrews twin sister, delilah, is fed up with him being overprotective. so when a cute serpent offers her an opportunity, she can't turn it down

Delilah hung onto him for dear life, terrified as they raced through the streets of riverdale. when they finally arrived at pops, delilah didn't think she had it in her to step off the bike. he pried her hands off him and helped her off. with her whole body trembling in fear she couldn't get the helmet strap undone. he once again helped her and took it off her head.

"i'm never doing that again," she said, flattening out her hair. he fixed a piece of her hair and gestured for her to follow him.

they walked through the doors and delilah surveyed the room for archie. he wasn't there.

"i'm gonna go wash my hands," she said excused herself. when she came back out, she came face to face with archie, veronica, jughead, and betty.

"hey girl," veronica said. "we were just about to sit down, do you wanna join us?"

"oh, no thanks V. i'm here with someone," delilah explained. "thank you for the offer though."

"o la la, does delilah andrews finally have a boy?" veronica asked.

"no," archie shot in. "no she does not."

"just between us girls," she whispered to veronica and betty. "kinda."

the girls all squealed at her admission.

"i don't wanna move to fast, and put labels on it, but i really like him," she lied through her teeth.

"well we won't keep you any longer," betty winked at her and started walking toward a booth.

"who?" archie demanded.

"none of your business," she walked away from him and towards sweet pea who was seated at the counter. when she took the seat next to him, archie sprinted across the room to them.

he ripped sweet pea out of his seat and they started yelling.

"what the fuck are you doing?" archie said.

"i'm here on a date," sweet pea responded.

"get away from my sister," archie shoved him and sweet pea shoved him back.

"you're being ridiculous," delilah said, stepping in front of sweet pea right as archie tried to push him again. she lost her balance and fell back into sweet pea hard. he caught her and rested his hand on her hip.

"don't touch her," archie said.

"i think i'll do what i want."

archie lunged at sweet pea but jughead held him back.

"sit down," veronica demanded. "leave her alone, archie."

"this isn't over," archie threatened before walking back to a booth.

sweet pea turned her around and leaned her back against the counter.

"not so bad, right?" he whispered. she shrugged lightly and he pulled her in for a hug. "is he watching?"

"mhm," delilah hummed into his chest. after a few seconds he pulled away slightly, their hips still pressed together. he looked at her carefully before raising his hand to her chin and gently kissing her.

"why him?" archie sat at his booth, fuming as he watched his sister.

"he's not without charm, archiekins," veronica said. "why are you so opposed to her dating anyway?"

"every boy in this town is an asshole," archie said.

"you live in this town," betty pointed out.

"i know."

"you're mainly upset because he's a serpent," jughead scoffed.

"yeah, jug. and he tried to hurt me. he showed up at my house and tried to fight me," archie complained. "why does he like her anyway? he hates northsiders."

"well, for starters, delilah is drop dead gorgeous. like even i've had thoughts about her," veronica admitted, resulting in a disgusted look from archie. "but, also, she's kind. she doesn't judge the southsiders, at least not outwardly."

"i think it's sweet," betty said.

"how? how is that sweet?" archie asked, slamming his fork down.

"he's willing to fight for her. he must know she doesn't date because you don't let her. just be happy for her, arch," betty explained.

"it just doesn't feel right," archie shook his head. "i can't shake the feeling he's using her to get back at me."

"not all serpents are the horrible people you make them out to be," jughead chimed in.

"can you blame me for thinking that?" archie practically yelled.

"i guess not. i'll talk to him," jughead told him.

"thanks jug."

archie watched as they left the diner and the only thing stopping him from following them was veronica sitting on the outside. but when he saw sweet pea hand the helmet to her he practically shoved her out and raced outside, his friends not far behind.

"absolutely not," he yelled. "she is not getting on that."

"calm down," veronica said.

"no, ronnie. a date is one thing but she can't get on that. she'll get hurt," he said. "i bet that's what you want though."

"excuse me," sweet pea stepped close to him.

"you heard me. i bet you're just itching to hurt her to get back at me."

"there's something wrong with you," sweet pea bit back.

"come on," she pulled sweet pea back. "he's not worth it."

"let's go," he mounted his bike and delilah followed him.

archie watched in anger as they rode away. he stormed back into pops, slammed money down on the table, and started running back home. when he got home, he went straight to delilah's room, but she wasn't there. he ran back down the stairs and found his dad in the kitchen.

"has 'lilah come back home?"

"no, i don't remember seeing her come in," fred responded. archie went back upstairs and called delilah. she didn't respond.

"god, he's annoying," delilah whined, putting her phone back in her pocket.

"i know," sweet pea said. they were sat on the edge of sweet water river, completely alone. "why doesn't he let you date?"

"i'm not really sure," delilah admitted. "something about all the boys being awful, i think. but i don't believe that."

"that's weird."

"i think he's trying to protect me, i mean he wouldn't ever leave my side growing up. but ever since he started dating veronica, he's been leaving me alone more, thank god."

"it still doesn't make sense though. you'd think he'd want you to have a boyfriend so he could protect you," sweet pea pointed out.

"i gave up on trying to understand my brothers mind a long time ago," she put a hand on his shoulder and sighed.

they sat there in silence, watching the river flow, for what felt like eternity before delilah spoke.

"it's getting late," she whispered. "it's dark and i'm cold."

"take my jacket," he took off his serpent jacket and handed it to her. "i'm sure your brother would love that."

"take me home," she said, snatching the jacket from him and pulling it over herself. she was practically drowning in it.

hé drove her back home and walked her up to her door. it wasn't that late but delilah didn't want to risk waking anyone up. she slowly crept up the stairs and entered her room. she found archie sitting on her bed.

"why him?"

"he asked me out," delilah said, crossing her arms.

"and you thought i would be okay with this?"

"archie, i have had enough with you thinking you can control my life. he likes me, and i like him. i'm not gonna let you ruin yet another relationship for me, i just won't," she was trying to be stern with him, but not be too loud. "now get out of my room," she pointed to the door.

"im not done with this," he said, heading for the door.

"yes, you are, archie. seriously leave me alone, you've done enough to hurt this family, dont add this to the list of things you'll be apologizing for for the rest of your life."

[demonscantgothere]

Beasts of the Hill and Serpents of the Den. Galadriel/Sauron | Halbrand. Explicit. 217.5k | 3.3k chapter [44/150] Ch. 44: As It Comes to Light

During the First Age, the War of Wrath changes course. On the island of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the Isle of Werewolves and one of Sauron’s former strongholds, is the seat of the Necromancer’s power. Instead of sending his wolves out to kill Finrod after capturing Felagund in his dungeons, Sauron demands an exchange for his life. Galadriel offers herself.

“Where is it?” demanded her clear voice, partially broken by irritation as she spoke—and it was none other than Írimë, pacing the hall with agitation in each step as she strode across the foyer. The cool, calm, and collected exterior she often displayed to them was now split into two down the center, revealing at once all that had been hidden underneath her façade.

A single voice answered her in response.

“Where is what?” called back Halbrand, noncommittal with his reply and seemingly bored with her newfound exhibit of emotion towards him. He had little patience for her outburst, and he did not hesitate to show it. Slowly, he strode across the foyer, stopping to examine objects along the way in between his lingering footfalls, an obvious contrast to Írimë’s rigid stance on the other side of the hall.

“Do not play coy with me,” Írimë warned him, her bright eyes as sharp as the glint of ice on the windows as it grew on the glass outside of the fortress. “What have you done with Master’s most treasured possession in your care?”

Keep Reading

[onepointsixkm]

Part II: Burnout

Summary: The Monaco Grand Prix went up in smoke as the end of the world began. You and a group of your friends managed to escape, but not without loss, as the dead began to walk.

featuring: SV5, CL16, OP81, & LS2. (mentions of LN4 + some surprise appearances)

warnings: zombie apocalypse! features character death, gore, and other genre conventions/staples. please do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the potential warnings!

notes: i am 100% serious when i say that if you did not take the warning on the first chapter seriously, this is the time to do so. please protect your mental before reading.

word count: 5,295

“Logan, you don’t have to come if you aren’t feeling up to it.”

The American boy shook his head fiercely, nervously shifting the bag on his shoulder. “I have to,” he replied, although his voice wavered with uncertainty. “We can’t just wait for help. Every second we wait… someone else could be…” You watched as a faraway look took over his face, the haunted, guilt-ridden frown coming back.

Oscar grasped his shoulder. “C’mon, mate,” he murmured. “Keep it together.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Logan nodded, offering a weak, shaky smile to each of you. You and Oscar exchanged looks, but didn’t protest Logan’s words. You knew you couldn’t. Logan would push through, no matter how terrified he really was.

“Then no time to waste. Let’s get going.” Seb had taken a crowbar from the maintenance closet, and was holding it in his gloved hands. “Let’s get in, and stick together. And whatever you do, don’t get bit.”

Charles shifted uncomfortably as Sebastian opened the door, Logan and Oscar slipping into the hallway as he did. Both of them were holding golf clubs, Oscar’s raised defensively while Logan’s was a bit lower, more hesitant. “Remind me why we aren’t taking the car?” Charles asked, rolling the baseball bat he’d taken in his hands.

“Cars are loud,” was Seb’s swift and easy answer, as if those three words explained everything.

For a moment, Charles looked like he wanted to protest, but he stopped himself and shook his head, muttering something in French. The security and safety a car would provide as you traveled was something you could understand him wanting, given what you’d seen happen as you left the circuit. But at the same time, you also knew why Seb had made the decisions he’d made. A car was loud, and anything loud was a near guarantee that the undead would find you before you ever even made your way into the paddock at the circuit. It was the potential to sentence one of your group — the number of you already dwindling — to death. And after everything that had happened in the hours prior, after realizing everyone who was either missing or dead, you didn’t want to risk that. You couldn’t risk it.

“We should go on foot,” you quietly agreed with Seb, glancing over at your friend with a frown. Charles looked at you, confused. “It’s less than twenty minutes, Charles. And the risk from the noise… it’s not worth it.” You held onto another of Lando’s golf clubs, kicking the head of the club and letting it bounce against your toes.

For a moment, Charles hesitated. But he nodded, however reluctant he actually was. “Okay. On foot it is.” He glanced at you.

You offered him the best smile you could, given the situation, and reached out to squeeze his arm gently. He did the same for you, although you could still see the hesitance in his smile. You slowly moved past Seb, who was still holding the door open, and into the hallway. Charles followed behind you, with Seb bringing up the rear.

The building was strangely quiet as you made your way back to the ground floor, Oscar and Seb accompanying Logan down in the elevator while you and Charles descended the stairs. Even your normally talkative friend was dead silent, a pensive frown on his face and his brow furrowed as he lost himself in his thoughts.

You knew what everyone else was thinking in their silence. Those thoughts were running through your head, too.

What if there’s no one left?

It wasn’t until you were halfway through the long trek (that only felt long because of the silence) to the circuit that you heard the sound of someone else’s voice as Logan spoke up. He’d fallen behind, lost in his thoughts, and finally, he said, “Hey.” The sudden sound made you jump at first. You all looked at him, Seb, who stood at the front of your group, even peering at him out of the corner of his eyes. “What if… what if we’re the only ones who made it. And we see… people we know. As-as one of those things.”

You looked towards Seb, who was suddenly staring ahead of him like the rising smoke in the distance was the most interesting thing imaginable. Your gaze turned toward Charles, whose frown had only deepened as he stared at the bat in his hands.

“All I know is that if it was me,” Oscar started, slowly interrupting the silence as you all searched for an answer to Logan’s question, “I’d want you to put me out of my misery.”

“Like… you’d want us to, uh… re-kill you, I guess?” You almost wanted to laugh at Logan’s struggle for words, but the context surrounding them wasn’t funny. You knew that you could run into anyone who wasn’t accounted for. How could there possibly be humor in that?

Oscar pursed his lips, shrugging nonchalantly, despite the clear tension in his shoulders. “Well, yeah. Being a zombie means that I could hurt other people, even kill ‘em if I’m not dealt with. And I wouldn’t want my body walking around like that, without me in it. It’d be a kindness, really. To put me down, I mean.” He glanced over at you, offering you a small smile, like he knew where your mind was hurtling towards.

Lando.

“Then that’s what we do,” you said softly as you weakly returned Oscar’s smile. “I’m sure everyone else would feel the same.”

With a short nod, Oscar reached over to Logan and tried to pat his shoulder reassuringly. Instead, Logan grabbed Oscar’s hand and squeezed it, needing some sort of comfort — any sort of comfort — that was offered. Although Oscar looked surprised for a moment, he allowed Logan to hold onto him like a lifeline. Your eyes met his again, and you smiled, this one a little bit stronger.

If nothing else, you needed to be strong for the people who were still alive.

Silence fell between the group again. Logan continued to cling to Oscar’s hand, his brow furrowing further and further. His grip on his golf club had tightened. Oscar had subtly pushed himself in a defensive position, ready to fight anything that came at the distracted Logan. You almost smiled. Even now, they were looking out for each other. At your side, Charles was playing with the bat, kicking it with his toes with each step he took. He was constantly chancing looks out in one specific direction. His home, his mom’s home.

You reached over and grabbed his wrist. When you met his eyes, you could see the flicker of hope dimming from only hours prior. You managed a small smile, but he could barely return it. The little twitch of his lips was all you would get from him. Your hand fell back to your side, words failing you as you searched for a way to comfort him.

Seb finally halted as you reached the parking lot gate, all of you coming to a stop behind him. “We’re here,” he muttered.

There was still smoke rising from the circuit. In fact, you could’ve sworn that there was more than you remembered. More fire, more things going south. More chances that your friends were gone. More chaos and violence, and you were sure that there should’ve been more panic and screams echoing through the city.

But somehow, it was quiet.

“Alright. Stay as silent as possible. No noise. Let’s get in, go looking, and get out with whoever we find. No taking stupid risks, got it?” Seb ground out, looking more serious than you thought you’d ever seen him.

Everyone, even Charles, who was normally someone who couldn’t stay silent, even in serious situations, was deadly silent as your group crept through the remains of what had been the Monaco Circuit. There were small fires all around the circuit and there was debris scattered along the streets. The corpses of those who hadn’t reanimated, many of which were half eaten, were strewn about the asphalt. Blood had begun to soak into the road.

You winced as you had to creep past a group of zombies that were devouring some poor person’s remains, and you bit back a whimper as your traitorous mind imagined one of your friends in their place.

Most of the garages were empty of people — undead or otherwise — and you weren’t sure if it was a mercy or not. All that was left were the Formula 1 cars, and some bodies that had been killed in the chaos. Some of them were people you recognized. There were so many mechanics, team staff, and even a few of the reserve drivers who had been attending that weekend, and your heart sank a little bit further with every body you recognized.

Logan almost vomited when you found what was left of Fredrik Vesti’s body in the Mercedes garage. Through his tears, Oscar insisted on covering his friend, to give him some sort of dignity in death. You hadn’t been close with him, but a deep sorrow still settled in your bones as you silently watched Logan and Oscar mourn. Fred was still someone who you knew by name, and it was a cruel reminder that you were here to try to find your friends, but that not all of them had made it.

Perhaps it was a small mercy that Alex and Lily were gone by the time you reached the place that you’d lost them. There was gore and viscera, but no bodies. You didn’t want to think about whose guts were splayed on the ground as you stepped over them.

A smoking Haas car had planted itself in the pit wall, bloody handprints smeared across its glossy finish, but thankfully, there was no one in the driver’s seat. You bit your lip and forced yourself to tear your gaze from the wreckage. The front of the car had been so damaged that you couldn’t even tell if it was Nico’s or Kevin’s car.

Charles reached down to take your hand, and you finally noticed that you were shaking. He gazed at you worriedly, the unspoken question clear in his eyes. You swallowed your sobs and nodded at him, silently communicating that you were okay.

(You weren’t okay at all, but you had to tell yourself that you were to make it true.)

Finally, you reached the last garage you hadn’t checked. Williams. Behind you, you could hear Logan inhale sharply. You looked back at him, and he shook his head, his eyes beginning to look a little glassy.

The Williams garage was deadly silent as Seb lifted the doors. It was somehow clean of the blood and debris that had been in every other garage. A few of the lights were flickering, with a few completely out. Both Alex and Logan’s cars were right where you’d last seen them, and you took a deep, shuddering breath as Seb gestured for Logan to close the garage shutters behind you, Logan scrambling to do so.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as the garage shutters slammed against the floor. For a moment, you all hold your breath as you wait for any sign of life — or lack thereof — to show itself.

“Is someone there?” a British accent called from deep within the garage.

You and Charles exchanged looks of relief as you both recognized the voice. Both of you practically ran towards the voice. You turned the corner and squeezed into the rows of tyres and front wings, where you saw a figure nearly collapsed on the floor. George Russell’s familiar gaze peered at you from the tyres. You dropped your golf club as you rushed towards him, Charles hot on your heels. George sat up straight, and you could see his shoulders sag in relief from where he sat, leaning against a stack of tyres, a wrench tight in his grip.

He let his head fall back against the cloth-covered rubber. “Good to see some friendly faces, finally,” he quipped, his voice laced with a mixture of pain and relief.

“George, oh my God,” you breathed as you nearly collapsed next to him. His black team kit was covered in blood and his face was smeared with dirt and soot, but he still offered you a smile. You couldn’t help but grab him into a tight hug. “Holy shit, you’re alive.”

He let out a mirthless laugh as he winced in your arms. You could feel his arm reach up to pat your back as gently as he could. “Barely. And, quite honestly, only alive because of Hulkenberg.” He leaned back as you released him from your embrace.

Seb lowered his weapon, concern written on his face. “What d’you mean? What happened?” he asked, looking around in search of Nico.

“When I got separated from these guys,” George nodded at you, and you could feel guilt spear your chest, “I tried to go back for Alex and Lily. They… there was nothing left to go back to.” You covered your mouth as you held back a sob. “I had to run, but there was almost nowhere to go. Everything was… chaotic. People screaming and running everywhere, and everywhere I could go is filled with zombies. And then, Hulkenberg came out of nowhere like… like a fucking maniac, driving one of the Haas cars right through the crowd and then right into the wall. He got out of the car and-and his arm was bleeding. I think he was bit, but I never got a good enough look to say for certain. He just pushed me into the garage, handed me this wrench, and told me to stay here until help came. I… he never came back.”

Nico Hulkenberg was most likely dead. Bitten and turned or devoured to find others. You weren’t sure, and you didn’t know if you were ever going to find out.

“And your ankle?” Seb prodded, gesturing towards George’s leg. You followed Seb’s gesture, and gasped. George’s ankle was clearly injured, his foot pointing in an unnatural direction, and you could see it swelling.

George winced at the reminder. “Slipped and fell when Hulkenberg drove past me. Had to dive out of the way to not get hit. Couldn’t just pop it back into place, so it’s just been like this.” He reached down to pat his ankle, a pained hiss leaving his mouth.

“Do you know if anyone else is alive?”

Seb and George stared at each other in silence for a moment. Finally, George sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. I have no idea. After Alex went down, we all got separated. I have no clue what happened to anyone else.” His brow furrowed in frustration. “But by the looks of it, not everyone got out with you.” His gaze scanned each of your faces, looking for answers that you weren’t sure he would want to hear.

Despite that, you took a deep breath and supplied, “Lance was bit. He turned, and he bit Carlos when we tried to get out.” George nodded slowly, sorrow twisting his lips into a frown. “Daniel is dead. So is Fred Vesti. A lot of mechanics and engineers are gone. We haven’t found any of the other drivers.” You could see Logan shuffle anxiously behind you. “We lost Max in that chaos, and… and I let go of Lando. I don’t know if they’re alive.”

George continued to nod slowly, a faraway look in his eyes. “Okay,” he finally managed, his voice slow and quiet. “Thank you for telling me.”

“What, that’s it?” Charles asked, shock in his eyes.

“What else am I supposed to say?” George snapped. “You want me to be angry? Sad? I knew that not everyone made it. I made my peace with it after I found what was left of my best friend on the fucking ground, after I saw him and his girlfriend getting eaten by those things. There’s nothing else to say.”

Silence fell between all of you, the losses finally sinking in. Charles looked sheepishly at George, who had let his head fall to stare at his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry. About Alex,” Charles whispered.

George smiled sadly through pursed lips. “Yeah. Sorry about Carlos.” Charles murmured a soft thanks, unable to look at George.

Seb glanced around at the garage. “This place is fortified by those shutters, but there’s not enough food to last more than a day. But, for now, it’s a good place to rest. The sun will be setting soon, which means it’ll be too dangerous for us to head back to the apartment. We’ll stay safe here until morning, and then, we get a car, get back to the apartment, and figure out next steps,” he declared.

“Okay,” you agreed readily, shrugging off your bag and pulling out the medical supplies you’d packed. “George, let me take a look at your ankle.”

George readily shifted, pulling his pant leg up. The pain became more and more visible as he moved. You grimaced at the swelling. It was angry and red, like he’d stressed it too much. You could see Oscar follow Logan as Logan staggered away, towards where his car was. Charles handed George his water bottle, and George gratefully took it, taking a long few sips before handing it back.

“You sprained it pretty bad.” George snorted a laugh — I fucking know, you could hear his unspoken words. “Going anywhere on this is going to be a bitch. Seb, tomorrow, we’re going to have to be so careful. We can’t get crept up on, not with George’s ankle like this.”

Seb nodded in agreement. He leaned down to clasp George’s shoulder. “Rest up,” he advised all of you. “In the morning, we’ll have to go. So, for now, get as much rest as you can.”

As soon as Seb said that, you all began trying to settle down for the night. What little food you had, you rationed and split amongst you, George practically wolfing down the fruit cup you’d offered him as you bandaged his ankle. Charles offered him the blanket he’d brought, to elevate his leg, and Oscar managed to find some extra clothes to cover all of you. You and Charles took up spots near George, while Logan and Oscar huddled together. Seb laid in front of all of you, as if he was protecting you from anything that could potentially get in.

But sleep didn’t come easily to you.

You couldn’t see outside the garage, but you knew that the dead were probably still roaming about the circuit, searching for anyone that was still alive to turn or devour. You stared at the garage shutter, waiting for something — anything — to happen. Your body was still on high alert from the events of the day, and even if you knew the Williams garage was safe, you couldn’t stop your mind from racing.

“Can’t sleep?” you heard a soft whisper. You looked over to George, who was staring at you with a knowing gaze from where he laid. “Me neither,” he admitted, pushing himself to sit up and scoot closer to you.

You shook your head, pulling your knees to your chest. “I just keep thinking about everyone else. Max, Lewis, Pierre… Ollie — God, Ollie and Kimi — and all of the others.” You paused. “Lando especially.”

George murmured your name, but you couldn’t look at him. “You said you let go of Lando. What happened?” he prodded, so gently that you nearly started crying.

Any words you could’ve said turned to ash on your tongue. You just meekly shook your head again. Silence fell between you and George, the echoes of the small, ambient sounds of the garage ringing loudly through your head.

“I… I lost him. In all the chaos, I just… I let go of him. And then, he was gone.”

George reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “If he’s only lost, then that’s not so different than before. Typical of Lando, always wandering off somewhere. We just have to find him.” He smiled gently, and you thanked all the stars in the sky for George Russell and how he knew exactly what to say whenever you needed him.

You smiled back, squeezing his hand in return.

When morning came and Seb woke you all up, you and George were still holding onto each other. Before you stood to pack your things back up, he squeezed your hand once more.

“We’ll find him,” he said confidently. Despite everything that was telling you otherwise, you believed him.

Those were the only words you exchanged as you crept through the circuit, back the way you came. For the most part, it was quiet. There were practically no zombies wandering around, and the few that you did see, you were able to easily put down alongside your friends. But as you reached the parking lot, you suddenly found yourselves surrounded.

You weren’t even sure where they came from, just that they hadn’t been in front of you, and then they were. As quickly as if you’d blinked, a bunch of shambling corpses had got the jump on you. You didn’t even know where they’d come from, just that they were all around you.

Once the first zombie reached for you, you’d let out a yelp as you swung your club and knocked it to the ground. It hadn’t quite been dead, instead trying again to grab you with a loud moan, and you slammed your club into its head again. You were sure you’d killed it this time if the dent in its skull and the way it went limp was anything to judge by.

But as you looked around, you saw Oscar and Seb beating back the zombies that were fast approaching, Charles and Logan taking up defensive positions around George, who they were continuing to support as best they could. George was leaning on Logan and had his wrench raised above him, ready to strike whatever came close.

You weren’t sure how long you were stuck there, but a few became a dozen, and then a dozen became dozens.

There was no end to it.

“Fuck!” you swore, swinging your club at the undead in front of you. You didn’t even have time to wince at the sickening crack in the air. “It’s like the entire population of Monaco was here for this fucking race!”

“It was a fully sold out race,” Charles reasoned, bat making contact with the skull of another approaching zombie, “There were probably tens of thousands,” another swing, “of people here.”

On either side of you and Charles were Oscar and Seb, who were viciously trying to defend an injured George, his arm draped over Logan’s shoulders for support. Oscar spat, sweat dripping down his forehead and causing his hair to stick to his skin. “We’re fucked then,” he swore. He moved the grip on the handle of his club, readjusting it.

From behind you, you heard George swear under his breath. “Just leave me,” he finally said. “My ankle… it’s going to slow you down. You need to go.”

Logan shifted George’s weight around, swinging his golf club and pushing back a zombie that was getting too close. “Mate, shut up.” He glared at George. “I’m not leaving you.” He pushed another one back, right into Sebastian’s crowbar.

“We’re all getting out of here,” Seb announced, leaving absolutely no room for argument. “Just… buy me some time. I’ll think of a plan.”

“Better think fast, Seb,” Oscar grunted as he staggered backwards. He swung his golf club again. The head was practically dyed crimson with the amount of blood on it. “The more time you think, the more of these things come at us.”

Seb’s eyes scanned the parking lot, and he grimaced at the lack of options. “Herd’s thinnest on the east. But the working only car I see is one of your stupid sports cars. Can’t fit all of us.”

“We might not have choices. Gotta do something, or we’re all dead.” George bit his lip. “Better a few of us get away than none of us.”

You huffed as another corpse landed at your feet. “It’s all of us or none of us,” you shot back.

“I see one. A van, probably media. It’s a long shot, but it looks big enough to fit all of us.” Seb squinted. “Probably a hundred meters. We get one shot at this, so here’s what we do: we form a circle, protect George. Slow, but sure, and we all get there.”

You nodded, frantically moving to form a circle. Logan and George stood in the center, Logan supporting George as he limped along. It was a slow, painful move through the parking lot, but with each of you watching each other carefully, you were able to make it that hundred meters to the car Seb had seen.

It felt like the herd was finally beginning to thin as Seb forced the door open with his crowbar, clamoring in the driver’s side door. “Buy me time, I can get this going,” he demanded, lowering himself to fiddle with the wires.

Your arms were beginning to tire, and by the looks of it, so were the others’. George, especially, was beginning to falter, his ankle clearly paining him. He slid down the side of the van, his wrench almost falling from his grasp as he reached for his ankle. Logan scrambled to stop him from hitting the ground too hard, kneeling by his side.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you heard the soft purr of the engine as Seb convinced it to roar to life. And not a moment too soon. The horde of the dead had finally thinned just enough for it to no longer be overwhelming.

Seb called, “Get in!” and you quickly turned to help George into the car, Logan helping to lift him to his feet as you opened the back of the van. But as you did, you caught sight of Oscar, who had stopped where he stood, his eyes fixed on something in the distance.

“Oh, Jesus.” Oscar staggered backwards, his golf club faltering in his grip. His eyes were trained on a specific figure in the near distance, right in the center of the oncoming group of undead. “Oh, Christ.”

You followed his gaze, only for your heart to fall right into your stomach.

“Carlos,” you breathed, stepping forward as if in a trance. His gaze was unmoving, unflinching, but it wasn’t him in there. Despite knowing it was him, there was nothing familiar about the corpse shambling towards you, nothing that you recognized of the man that had pushed you away before he’d been bitten. The angry reminder of that moment was still oozing blood, the wound still open on his shoulders.

All you could think about was the look on his face as he pushed you away and the scream in your throat as Lance’s teeth sunk into his flesh. You choked back a sob as you studied your undead friend.

His eyes were glassy, and his mouth opened and closed with only a low, gurgling growl leaving his lips. Gone were the smiles and the soft eyes. All that was left was a husk of Carlos Sainz.

Seb, having slid out of the car once he realized what was happening, reached over to grab you by the hand and pull you behind him. He raised his crowbar as Carlos — at least, what remained of Carlos — let out a low growl as he reached towards you. “Don’t look,” Seb murmured.

You could feel the golf club leaving your hand as it fell to the ground, you falling with it. Your knees hit the pavement, Logan reaching out to steady you. You clung to the arm he wrapped around you, tears that you hadn’t even felt coming already streaming down your face. A whimper left your throat.

A hand reached out and covered your eyes, and you could hear Logan murmur to you, “Don’t look,” echoing Seb’s words. You turned, burying yourself in Logan’s shoulder. Behind him, George reached out, taking your hand in his, and you squeezed back, grateful for the comfort.

Briefly, you turned, seeing Seb stepping forward to meet the approaching body of Carlos. He tightened his grip around his crowbar, and you winced at the blood that dripped down the metal. You could hear him muttering something in German, but you weren’t quite sure what he was saying. You could feel yourself biting your lip, tears still streaming down your face, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fully look away from what you knew was about to happen. It felt like you owed it to Carlos, for saving your life.

Before Seb could meet Carlos, Charles reached out and stopped Seb, halting the crowbar mid-movement. “It should be me,” Charles murmured, his eyes trained sadly on his former teammate.

Seb couldn’t reply. He only lowered his weapon, stepping back to allow Charles to meet Carlos instead. You could see the tension in Charles’s shoulders, could practically see his eyes filling with tears, but he didn’t back down. He only raised his baseball bat as Carlos approached, and softly said, “Sorry it had to end this way.”

With a low growl, Carlos lunged for Charles, who responded immediately, bringing the baseball bat over his head and then back down onto Carlos’s. You winced at the viscous crack that rang through the air, then again as Carlos’s body hit the ground. Charles staggered backwards, dropping the bat, as Carlos went limp against the asphalt, unmoving.

“Fuck,” you heard him manage, his breathing ragged.

You quickly pushed yourself towards Charles, practically collapsing into him and wrapping your arms around him as you sobbed. He rested a bloodied, shaking hand on your arm, heaving as tears streamed silently down his face, his eyes still wide and trained on Carlos’s body. Viscous blood poured from his head wound and onto the pavement, slowly seeping towards you.

“You did the right thing, Charles,” you murmured into his shoulder, tightening your grip on his shirt. He nodded quickly, like he desperately wanted to believe you. “I’m sorry it had to be you. I’m sorry I couldn’t do it.”

He took a shuddering breath before he shook his head. “No. It had to be me,” he choked out, offering you a tentative, sorrowful smile. He squeezed your wrist before pushing himself up and pulling you with him. He picked his bat back up, then turned around, back to the car. His smile fell right off his face, disappearing along with all the color in his skin. “And now, we have to fucking move.”

You followed his gaze, and could suddenly understand why Charles had paled so suddenly.

There had to be hundreds of undead shambling towards you from the opposite side of the parking lot. From your way out.

“Time to go,” you breathed. Logan and Oscar quickly helped George into the car. Seb climbed back into the driver’s seat and Charles sprinted to get in the passenger side. As soon as Logan was in the car, you followed, slamming the door shut behind you.

Once you were all in the van, Seb let his foot drop on the pedal like a brick, the wheels of the minivan screeching as it peeled towards the herd. You flinched at the sounds of hands thumping against the sides of the van and groans of the undead.

But as they grew distant, Seb speeding through the streets of Monaco, you finally relaxed. All of you were safe for now.

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