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zet-sway · 3 years

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Spiritual Shrios Summer - Release

PROMPT WORD: RELEASE - | - WORDS: 2686

Rated: "E" for Extremely Spicy - not for children AO3 Link: "Singing Southward" Pairing: Thane / FemShep Summary: "But her blood is singing southward, and that's a good thing, right? A reassuring, human reminder that maybe she's still Shepard - a woman - not just a Cerberus machine."

Full disclosure, this prompt fought me and kicked my ass the whole way. I can't look at it anymore. I hope it's more enjoyable for people who haven't been looking at it for like two weeks lmao. Many thanks to Rosenkow for that excellent playlist that really inspired my Shrios muse.

The heavy thrum of battle is where she loses herself. Shepard would take sweat and the pounding pulse of combat any day over the silence between stars.

Swirling winds whip sand across her face and body. It crunches in the joints between her armor and she hates the sound but it's easy to ignore as she slams another heat sink into her shotgun and charges into the last remaining crawler. It's thrown by the impact, the momentum of her body splits the carapace against her armored fist. The smell of viscera in the air, the humming of biotic barriers. Her body sings. She feels untouchable. The keystone slams the ground again.

The ground beneath her feet rumbles and she hears an unholy sound. A thresher maw. Her battle-lust is broken instantly and she snaps to attention, every sense laser focused.

Her shotgun and fists will be little help to them now. She exchanges glances with Grunt and Thane, waving them toward cover while she hunkers down on point, grenade launcher at the ready. It's not the biggest thresher maw she's ever seen but their size isn't the only thing that makes them dangerous. Positioning is critical when fighting something that can burrow and spit. Her combat HUD tracks its movements through the ground and she directs their movements, their gunfire to its next point of exposure.

But there's a problem. Her visor's sensitive electronics were never meant to be used in a sandstorm.

The maw dives again and this time the data is wrong, pinging across the arena, indicating wildly different trajectories that conflict with the laws of physics. Not great, but there's nothing she can do about it now. Adapt, improvise.

She tears the headset from her face and makes her best approximation of where it's going to appear next, signaling the team. They open fire, it dives again. Then the rumbling stops. Her best is not enough. There's a split second of silence before the beast bursts forth not twelve feet away from her position. Dust and debris erupt in a disorienting cloud and she can tell by the shadow cast over her that she's in deep shit, struggling to find her footing on the fractured, quaking ground.

A scorching heat envelops her and her vision goes dark. There's a shout in her comm, a weight pressed upon her, and the grenade launcher is wrenched from her hands.

Then a burst, an explosion, a blinding flash of light. Acid sizzles against her barrier and it pops, the sound rattling her ears in the darkness.

The orange sun of Tuchanka blinks back into existence as the dust begins to settle.

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

Thane slumps into the stinking puddle of meat and organs, still clutching Shepard's grenade launcher. His scales are stinging and the pain is growing more intense by the second. Beside him, Shepard is calling in an evac while she rips at the panels of her hardsuit. Her under armor is a patchwork of holes beneath, and her skin is a frightening shade of red where the fabric is being eaten away. Thresher maw bile.

He's never actually seen a thresher maw before, much less fought one - he's more shaken than he would like to admit. Her voice is his anchor. By the time she's done shouting for Grunt to maintain a defensive position, she's torn the suit at the waist and stripped the top half from her body. She uses it to wipe the viscera from his head, chest, and hands before tending to herself.

Her ease of determination has him transfixed. He's trembling from their encounter, but Shepard- he's never seen her more focused. Brows knitted in concentration, voice firm, but calm. Her chest rises and falls with each measured breath. Wearing only her belt, legplates, and a black compression bra, she's slathering herself in medigei, a whirlwind of sand and dirt sticking to exposed burns across the hard expanse of her body.

Her skin is so vulnerable compare to his scales that she should be shrieking in pain. Instead, she seems completely unfazed. Adrenaline, perhaps. Or maybe she's every bit as otherworldly as he's coming to understand she is.

Their evac shuttle arrives and they pile on. Grunt is the first one to break the silence.

"Quick thinking back there, Krios."

Grunt looks at him with the same piercing gaze all krogan seem to have. Thane has always found them hard to read.

"Never thought I'd see a drell dive into the mouth of a thresher maw. You're tougher than you look."

He smiles, then. And Shepard smiles with him.

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

Doctor's orders: 24 hours rest.

Shepard's armor clatters to the cabin floor and she strides into the bathroom, trying not to itch the scabs tightening over her skin. The burns are superficial - irritating, but not serious. In the mirror, they look worse than they feel. The sting is enough to drown out the other weird pains that live inside her reconstructed body. Her ears hurt. Her tear ducts feel swollen and pressurized. Her fingers are sore. There's a constant ache in her sternum and a soft wooshing in her ear. It's from her synthetic heart, and the abundance of blood it requires. But it means she'll heal faster, too.

The water hisses out of the showerhead and she sets to work cleaning the caked on grit and viscera from her skin. When she's focused on herself like this, it's hard not to think about all of the ways her body has changed.

On the SR1, she'd been in shape, perhaps even proud of her body. She'd thought of herself as a well oiled machine. She watched her nutrition carefully, spent just as much time honing nerves as she did strength and endurance. Her body, a product of her own work and service.

What she sees now is not what she remembers.

Notably, she's about 70 pounds heavier, almost exclusively due to her implants and the additional muscle she's put on to carry them. Adapting to the added weight of cybernetics and artificial bones had been an uphill battle since she rolled off that Cerberus operating table. Even her breasts are one cup size larger, and that one change carries perhaps the most bitterness. Her body is no longer her creation.

She sees herself as though through a stranger's eyes - a construct. The Commander they wanted. Not the woman she remembers.

Her new body is all about performance, both in the public eye and on the battlefield. Miranda had already told her she should be grateful for her various "upgrades." Her titanium fingers that never tremble, her artificial eyes that can see colors and details normal human's can't. Heightened olfaction, improved hearing, even joints with a higher range of motion.

A superhuman.

No, she corrects herself, with no small amount of vitriol.

A supersoldier.

The trouble is, being a soldier is what she wants. Control over her body is as much a necessity as a beating heart, and she demands it of herself every way she knows how. The problem isn't the upgrades. It's the autonomy ripped from her hands as soon as she was too dead to spit in their faces.

But this is the hand she's dealt, so she works with it, even if learning how to use her own body is still a learning curve. Testing her limits, evaluating response times, and sometimes... trying out shitty supplementary tech that can't stand up to a little bad weather.

Outside the bathroom door, the remnants of her visor are crumbled together next to her terminal. Thane had crushed it underfoot when he dove between her and the thresher maw. That split second confusion in the field could have cost her life if he hadn't intervened. She hadn't expected a lone wolf assassin to mesh so well with the team.

She towels off and stuffs her armor back in its locker. The automatic cleaning cycle hums to life, and her thoughts whirl with it.

Thane's opened up a bit more since the night they spoke about Alchera. He has a surprising way of coloring the air with his words. And, perhaps most alarmingly, the more time she spends with him, the time she wants to spend with him. She tries to chalk it up to regular team synchronicity, but there are moments she catches herself wondering him on more than just a professional level. Tiny curiosities slither into her brain. Does he kiss like humans do? The very notion warms her blood.

How long has it been since she'd kissed someone? It feels like a lifetime.

And then - just one impulsive little thought, summoning the things she's not even dared herself to think. Does he fuck like humans do?

Almost timidly, she allows her imagination to wander.

Greeting the morning together in the shuttle bay, the harsh fluorescent lights casting dramatic shadows over his body as he bends through another impossible stretch. All that tension coiled within him, the hard planes of his torso, those absolutely delicious ass-kicking thighs...

For a moment, she feels as though he's close enough to share his heat. There's an old, familiar warmth in her blood - exquisite, tiny shivers flickering just beneath her skin - arousal.

Her eyes drift closed. She owes her XO a mission debrief, and she owes her pilot new destination coordinates. But her blood is singing southward, throbbing between her legs, and that's a good thing, right? A reassuring, human reminder that maybe she's still Shepard - a woman - not just a Cerberus machine.

Maybe those obligations can wait a little bit longer.

Scooting up her unmade bed to rest against the headboard, she tentatively rests a hand against her belly and traces a line from her navel to the juncture of her legs, almost as if she's afraid of what she'll find. Her flesh is reassuringly warm, and she passes over her center, teasing and smoothing back over blood-warmed skin, testing its sensitivity. At least here, her body feels like she remembers.

Thane's unfamiliarity excites her. She's never spared much thought for bunking with another species before, but he's more than handsome. Shepard wonders if drell are as introverted as Thane. Likely not, but his guardedness only intensifies her intrigue. The idea of touching him seems forbidden, like a closely guarded secret. She wants to run her tongue over the darkened skin below his lower lip, wants to trace the ridges down the back of his neck and feel the warmth of the flushed skin at his throat.

Her mind fumbles with the thought of him, unclothed and willing. He could be any number of iridescent shades of green under that tight leather getup - by the tantalizing gradient of color across the firm swatch of his exposed chest, he must be. Those dark stripes down his shoulders are trails she's hungry to travel, winding paths across the exotic unknowns of his body. Her fingers itch to follow them wherever they lead - with any luck, all the way down.

And down to what, exactly? For a moment, Shepard considers pulling up the extranet to satiate her curiosity and then decides against it. If he's not biologically equipped the way she hopes, better to find out later, when she's not vividly imagining the shape and color of his erection. Maybe green? But then, he hopefully isn't packing scales down there. No, more likely a familiar blush of color, like the frills of at his neck, or the inside of his mouth.

Her fingers brush carefully over her clit at the thought of his mouth, those gorgeous clit-sucking lips. An excited chill zips down her spine, settling - picturing him in this exact spot, head bowed reverently between her legs to worship her with his tongue. It's been so fucking long since someone ate her out.

The memory is old and faded - breaking fraternization rules with a youthful dark-haired recruit in the barracks. They hadn't even finished basic yet. Shepard had come harder than ever before in her life, only to later discover that recruit had told nearly everyone that they'd hated every second of it. She wouldn't have been upset if Cerberus took that memory from her.

But there's something about Thane. He's nothing if not a gentleman, she likes to think he'd be wickedly good at this. Warm, firm lips, an agile tongue... those fused fingers edging her on.

She uses her own to test that hypothesis, biting her lip at the familiar slick of arousal concentrated in her core.

There was a time when she'd rather be incinerated than suffer gentle lovemaking. She wanted it hard and fast, pleasure so blindingly hot she'd sneak out to the airlock for a cigarette in the afterglow. But her new body is a labyrinth of unknowns. Sex in this new skin, not knowing her limits, how much she can take. She wants to take her time.

Middle finger first, then following with another, she tests her reconstruction. Maybe she's just imagining it, but she feels a bit stiffer than she remembers.

But in the blurry comfort of her fantasy, Thane is a gentle lover. He's slow and patient, giving her ample time to acclimate both her body and her racing thoughts. Her fingers slip inside as far as they'll reach, leaving her palm to flex against her clit. She sighs, luxuriating in sensation.

It feels so good to be touched.

It's been years, in fact, and the roaring flame of her lust is surprising even to herself. To have him here, moving inside her, filling her with every stroke...

When her hand curls against her inner walls, her eyes roll back and an unholy sound leave her throat. Holy shit. Either this is the pleasure time forgot, or Cerberus spared no expense reconstructing her nerve endings. It wipes every other thought from her mind.

She's lost in the fantasy now. Hopelessly spellbound beneath the roll of her own hand - Thane's hips - languidly pushing the heights of her pleasure in body and mind until she's deliberately edging her orgasm because it seems a damn shame to end it so fast. Her head is swimming, discomfort collecting dust in the rational corners of her brain until her nerves are burning with adrenaline and wanting. Scattered thoughts come in incoherent bursts. All that matters now is the caldera of pleasure between her legs. Her mind. His body.

She can almost feel his voice. The words are lost but the sensations are loud and clear, encircling her, flowing through her, filling her. She wants to feel his desire, wants him to come undone inside her, calling her name, riding the high of his climax and all but demanding she come with him. In her mind, they gasp together, his arms tightening around her, his face buried in her neck, her walls clenching around him.

The electricity of release pulses through her nerves - organic, synthesized, and everything in between. For one sweet second, she's weightless. Then the spots are clearing from her vision and she's floating down from whatever far flung corner of the galaxy her soul's been launched to.

In the silence that follows, the gentle hum of the ship is the only sound.

"Fuck," she breathes out into the empty room. He's gone. The reverie slowly evaporates, vanishing into the metal bulkheads of the hull.

The familiar guilt of indulgence tugs at the edges of her fading euphoria. She hadn't banked on masturbating to her crew, but here she is.

It's just a daydream, no harm done.

But as she gets dressed, she asks herself why it's been so long since anyone's crept into her mind like Thane.

Shepard shakes her head, straightening her back. A little movement to clear the errant thoughts trashing her rationality. Her scabs itch. Her mouth is dry. There are more important things to be doing. Things that will quiet the tiny voice in her head that whispers 'no one wants your weird cybernetic body.'

At least she can still show herself a good time. Small victories are perhaps even sweeter during wartime. Maybe she feels just a little more human than she did an hour before.

#shrios #spiritualshriossummer #thane krios #fshrios #spiritual shrios summer #zet writes things #me in the background screaming like that video of the old man in the mountains with the cowboy hat #ITT: femshep gets herself off #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years

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Love Is Not Forced ~ 2

MAIN MASTERLIST

Love Is Not Forced MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,370ish

Summary: King Anthony arrives at his castle with Y/N and Peter. He and the Queen make a decision.

Warnings: none

Upon arriving at the Castle, the King ordered his staff quickly to put two rooms together for Y/N and Peter. Once she was down from the horse, Peter was gripping onto his sister. The King set a gentle hand on Y/N’s back and guided the two children into the castle. Not far into the castle, a beautiful red headed lady in a stunning silk robe, came running up.

“Anthony!” She called. “What happened?” She quickly noticed the two children. “Who are they?”

“Sweetheart,” the King started. He removed his hand off Y/N’s back and went towards the woman, pecking her lips. “We lost the village.”

“The whole village?” She gasped.

“All but these two.” He looked towards the two children, gripping onto each other.

“Oh dear.”

“They need some place to stay and until we find—“

The woman put a hand to his chest to stop the King from continuing. “I understand, Tony. We can’t let them be out there on there own.” The woman moved so that she was kneeling in front of the two, a caring smile graced her lips. “Hello. I’m Queen Virginia, but my family and close friends call me Pepper. What are your names?”

“Y/N,” the girl quietly answered. “And this is my brother, Peter.”

“Hello Y/N, Peter. There’s no need to be frightened anymore. You’re safe here. No one can hurt you while you’re with us.”

“Let’s get them bathed and to their rooms,” the King said, holding out his hand. “Peter, if you’ll come with me.” Peter held onto Y/N tighter, burying his head into her chest. The Royals shared a sad look. The King knelt down beside his Queen. “I’m not going to hurt you, Peter. You’ll see your sister real soon. You just need to get cleaned up and then I’ll bring you back to her, okay?”

Peter looked up at Y/N for approval. “It’s okay, Pete,” she said. “They won’t hurt us. You can trust them.”

Peter nodded as the Royals let out a breath of relief. He took the Kings hand as was led away while Y/N took the Queens. She led the girl to a large room, bigger than her family’s cottage, with a grand bed, balcony, and bathroom. The Queen guided her into the bathroom, introducing Y/N to the maids in there, before slipping out to get her some clothes. Y/N let the maids help her, practically too tired to wash herself up. Once they were finished with Y/N, the Queen came back with a night dress for her. She was helped into it before being led to the bed and tucked in. The Queen sat there, smoothing out the girls hair, as she drifted in and out of sleep, trying to wait for her brother. He soon arrived, already asleep in the arms of the King. The King tucked him in beside Y/N, before him and his wife moved towards the door. They turned back around, looking at the two sleeping children.

“What are we going to do with them?” The Queen whispered. “We don’t know anyone we could send them too.”

“And I don’t trust them with anyone,” the King quietly replied.

“Are you suggesting that we keep them?”

“Honey,” the King grabbed the Queens hands, “we’ve tried for so long to have a child, and nothing has come of it. It almost feels like this was meant to be. There are two children sleeping in that bed, who need a home. Who need people to love and care for them. Who better to than the two of us?”

“I don’t know, Tony. Deciding to take in—“

“Please. I know you want this too. I saw the way you were looking at Y/N when I walked in with Peter… You’re already catching feelings.”

“What will the Court say? Or the people?”

“I am the King and this is my kingdom. I make the rules, and if I am honest in what happened, then I feel that the Court and the people will be fine with it.”

“Okay, Tony. Okay.”

At breakfast, the next morning, the King and Queen told Y/N and Peter of their plan. Peter was excited, not fully understanding what that meant. Y/N on the other hand did. Her parents were truly gone. Y/N was grateful for their generous offer but, even at eleven years old, almost declined to take it. She and Peter knew nothing about these people or how to be a Royal. And what about the people of the kingdom? They would know that the two weren’t their biological children. How would they react? The King could see the girls wheels turning.

“Y/N,” he called, pulling her out of her thoughts to look at him. “Could you join me for a walk?”

Y/N nodded, silently slipping out of her chair and to the King’s side. The King led Y/N out into the hallways. His hands were clasped behind his back as hers were fidgeting in front of her.

“I know that we really do not know each other yet,” the King began, “but I already feel a great deal of responsibility over you and your brother… It is my fault your parents are dead. I am suppose to protect this kingdom, and I failed your village.” Y/N stayed silent, looking anywhere but at him as he guided her down the halls. “Last night, when I made those promises. I made them with the intent to keep them. And this is the best way I know how.”

Y/N and the King reached a door at the end of a hall. The guard in front of the door nodded at the King before opening it, revealing a winding stone staircase. She followed the King up the staircase, to the top of a tower. At the top, revealed a room, in it was a small library, a desk, and a bed. Y/N walked over to the window, letting out a small gasp at the view of the kingdom.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“It is isn’t it? I come up here when I need to get away and think for a while… This morning, I could tell you needed that too. I’ve been meaning to move into the bigger tower, so I thought that maybe you would like this one.”

“Wait—“ she spun around. “You’re giving me this tower?”

“Yes. There’ll always be a guard in front of the door. And only those with your permission will be allowed up. Including the Queen and I.” The King knelt in front of the girl. “I’m trying to show you, Y/N, that I mean no harm. And, if even we’ll only known each other for a half a day, I want to protect you. I want you to trust me, to give me the opportunity to love you and your brother. I know that my wife and I can’t replace your parents, but we will do our best to love you just as they would.”

Y/N stood there, contemplating what the King was saying. He seemed serious. He had saved her and her brother, given her new clothes, food, and a safe place to sleep. The Queen was even incredibly kind to her and Peter.

“Yes,” Y/N whispered, meeting his pleading brown eyes. “I trust you,” she said a bit louder with more conviction. “I believe you.”

Surprisingly, the King grabbed her, pulling her into his chest for a large hug. Y/N carefully hugged back, still a bit scared since he was the King.

“You’re okay to hug me, Y/N,” the King said. “We are family now.”

“Peter and I know nothing about being Royal.”

“That’s okay. You’ll learn,” he pulled back, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “Pep and I will help you, and we will hire the best teachers in all the lands.”

Y/N glanced around the tower once more. “You’re really giving me this?”

“Really. Think of it as a welcome home gift.”

“But I don’t des—“

“Shh. You deserve the world, my dear.” He gently pushed some hair behind her ear. “My Princess.”

next chapter >

Tag List:

@dreamilyunaffectedwreck (won’t link) @freya-xo

#tony stark x reader #loki x reader #thor x reader #t’challa x reader #steve rogers x reader #medieval au #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #avengers x reader #the avengers x reader #steve rogers imagine #tony stark imagine #loki imagine #thor imagine #t’challa imagine #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #royaltyau

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Me and You Together, 7/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: thank u so so much for all the continued love and support on this!!!! i am absolute dogshit at replying to comments but i do see them all and screech at everty single one, so thank you sosososO much for every like, ask, reply and reblog! in this chapter u all get some answers to the questions the last chapter brought up........apologies if ur not keen on them though xo

last chapter: the girls broke their own rules and had their own kind of kitchen "afterparty" after Lawrence's friend's flat party, but Tayce couldn't give A'whora the answers she desperately wanted.

this chapter: tensions run high in block 4 flat 10, as feelings struggle to stay hidden and truths begin to surface.

***

A’whora is happy.

Really, why would she not be? She gets to hang out with and sleep with the girl that’s been on her mind for months and months and months. They go out for drinks with the others and fall into bed together afterwards, steal glances at each other in the kitchen which end in holding hands and pulling each other into one of their bedrooms. They’re incredible and intense and their chemistry rages like a fire and A’whora can never get enough.

The thing about Tayce paying for brunch on Valentine’s day is that they’re caught in a cycle of having to pay each other back, one that A’whora doesn’t ever want to break. They go for lunch after lectures and treat each other to dinner and walk around the city together where they look through the windows of the designer shops and gawk at the bags and shoes. Tayce brought her car up from Newport at the end of last month and she’s driven A’whora anywhere and everywhere too, day trips to the beach and the forest and the huge reservoir just outside the city. They smile at each other across tables and link arms when they walk and laugh and chat like it’s easy. It is easy. It’s nice and it’s comfortable and it feels right.

They’ve started sleeping over too, sometimes. If it’s late and they’re both that sleepy, overwhelmed way after they’ve tired each other out, Tayce will chuck A’whora one of her huge t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts and they’ll curl up together, Tayce spooning her with her arm around her waist and resting on her tummy. It’s strange- A’whora’s always felt a little self-conscious of her stomach, the way it isn’t flat like a supermodel’s despite the fact she knows that’s not how human bodies work. But when Tayce is holding her like that she doesn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed; just appreciated and protected, like she’s as beautiful as Tayce tells her all the time.

It’s funny knowing how Tayce sleeps: the way she flops over onto her side and stretches out in the middle of the night, the way A’whora will sometimes get an arm to the face or a kick to the shin; because if a single bed isn’t enough for the pair of them at the best of times it’s certainly not enough to accommodate Tayce trying to spread her entire body over every square centimetre of it while unconscious. What’s equally strange is having Tayce know how she sleeps too. A’whora’s always been a sleeptalker, she knows this, but it gives sleeping next to Tayce a new element of terror any time she wakes up to her giggling, telling her the stupid things she’d been saying punctuated by forehead kisses. A’whora worries that one night she’ll say something she’s deliberately been keeping hidden.

Because even though she’s happy...she’d be lying if she said she doesn’t want more. Not much more. Just to be able to call Tayce hers properly. She would love to tell Tayce just how much she likes her; more than a friend, more than a friend with benefits.

“Why don’t you just be honest with her?” Ellie had asked, when they’d gone for a debrief drink together after a lecture that had ended at six at night.

They’d had a couple of these kinds of drinks; the first being the evening of Valentine’s day after Ellie and Lawrence had inadvertently walked in on them both. Ellie had practically dragged A’whora to the nearest bar and demanded to know details, something in her sparkling eyes growing dull after A’whora had told her it had been going on for over a month. A’whora had felt guilty- aside from Tayce, Ellie is her best friend in the flat, and not telling her about what had been happening between her and Tayce had admittedly felt weird. It was clear that keeping it from Ellie had hurt her too even if she didn’t say it, and even after A’whora had apologised twice she’d still felt guilty even though Ellie had batted her away with a ‘don’t be silly!’ and ‘it’s fine!’.

To make up for it, A’whora has let Ellie be her agony aunt about all things Tayce-related ever since. Which has been great, until she gives her ridiculous suggestions like telling Tayce how she feels.

A’whora remembers scrunching her face up as she sipped her too-strong cocktail, shaking her head in a no . “There’s no way. I’m not risking her telling me she doesn’t feel the same, are you insane?! It’d totally ruin the friendship.”

Ellie had choked on her drink in a laugh, rushing to explain herself to A’whora as she gulped. “Babe. You’re literally shagging without putting a label on it. You ruined the friendship a long time ago.”

A’whora had shared the laugh but something heavy and uncomfortable had settled itself in her gut in response to Ellie’s words.

It’s the same feeling that settles in her gut whenever Tayce reacts to Lawrence’s jokes. On the whole, the reaction from the others to her and Tayce sleeping together has been relatively muted- Bimini will just smirk at them every so often, a knowing smile on their face, while Tia will just grin at them all dippy and tell them that they’re cute- but Lawrence has really gone off the deep end. She sends memes to the flat group chat about them (a screenshot of her Google searching ‘can you write fanfiction about your flatmates’ springs to mind) and will constantly poke fun at the apparent ever-present sexual tension between the pair of them.

A’whora knows Lawrence doesn’t do it to be malicious; it’s half borne out of jealousy, as A’whora knows by now how much she’s infatuated with Ellie. If she’s being honest, she actually doesn’t mind the jokes. Even though they’re a bit embarrassing, they serve as a little illustration to A’whora that she and Tayce are in this together. Lawrence joking about the pair of them is like a validation; that they’re good together, that they work, that they’re seen as a unit by others. It’s silly, but it’s almost contributing to the argument that they should be together for real. That they should be girlfriends.

Girlfriends. Even just thinking about being Tayce’s girlfriend sends 100 volts through A’whora’s bloodstream.

But Tayce doesn’t seem to appreciate Lawrence’s jokes like A’whora does. At first Tayce had given them a courtesy snort, the sort of reaction an adult would give a child telling a weak knock-knock joke. But the more jokes Lawrence makes, the less time Tayce seems to have for them. She’s started firing back with biting quips of her own about Lawrence’s own single situation, balls of rolled-up barbed wire lobbed at a friend just trying to take the piss. Of course, Lawrence being Lawrence sees that Tayce is bothered by the jokes and uses this as an invitation to continue making them. She enjoys winding her friends up because it always comes from a place of love, and A’whora knows this. She knows they’re just jokes.

She doesn’t get why Tayce doesn’t appreciate them the same as she does. The wondering puts doubts in her head, ones she wishes weren’t there.

A’whora’s glad, then, when the heat is off them and on the other couple in the flat- the official one, that is. It’s an ordinary Thursday evening and Lawrence is rifling through the fridge looking for something to make for dinner from the sorry selection of food in the fridge. Bimini is perched on one of the sofas with their head in their phone smiling slightly at the screen as they type, and Ellie is at the other end with her head in one of the books she needs to read for her course, a frown deep on her face and her mouth moving silently as she tackles each line. A’whora is cuddled up next to Tayce on the other sofa, both of them on their laptops as they allegedly begin research for their final essay of the year but are simply using it as a guise to watch old Vivienne Westwood runway shows.

It’s calm and it’s quiet and it’s chilled until Tia nearly boots the fire door down, an excitable smile on her face like a puppy as she carries her open laptop in her hands, Veronica in tow behind her.

“Ladies and gentlethem, a moment of your time please!” she announces with a grand gesture, making all heads snap her way. Having got everyone’s attention, Tia places the laptop on the dining table and claps her hands together with pride. “I’ve decided...I’m running for activities officer in the student elections!”

There’s a small cry of delight from the girls, but the moment is short-lived as Bimini snorts a laugh from the sofa. Horrified at this out-of-character unkind moment from her friend, A’whora whips her head around only to find Bimini’s head still in their phone. Suddenly realising eyes are on them, Bimini blushes red, flinching a little as they look up.

“Shit, sorry. Just Asttina...sent something funny. Anyway, sorry, activities? G’wan, girl, you’ll nail it!”

Veronica pipes up with pride beside her girlfriend. “Oh, she absolutely will with what we’ve just put together. Come see!”

Intrigued, A’whora shares an amused gaze with Tayce as they slide off the sofa, gathering round the laptop with the others and waiting with bated breath as Veronica hits play, Tia standing bashfully beside her.

What follows is what can only be described as a hallucinogenic trip. It’s Tia standing in the middle of the campus square as Tik Tok by Ke$ha plays in the background, and a second later she begins singing.

“ Wake up in the morning thinking we need more, we need more space, we need more storage, we need more sup-port…”

“STOP!” Lawrence yells with delight, reaching out and clutching Tia’s arm in excitement.

A’whora, for her part, genuinely can’t tell if it’s the most iconic thing she’s ever seen or a total disaster. The campaign video rolls on with Tia singing the parody of the song as a soundtrack to her popping up around campus; in the union, in lecture theatres, in the square outside the graduation hall. She can’t quite believe it when it reaches the chorus, though, and Tia, Veronica, and a couple more students start dancing in what appears to be the library foyer.

“ Vote Tia for Activities if you want bet-ter facilities, it’s al-right, I’mma fight for more events on inter-site…”

“Oh, Tia. What is this?” Tayce giggles beside A’whora. She doesn’t miss the glare Ellie shoots her way.

“Shut up, ya shady cow! I think it’s brilliant.”

“Did you just get random fuckers off the street to do that dance with you?” Bimini inquires patiently.

“They’re my flatmates. You’ve met them,” Veronica explains, not without an edge of irritation.

The video continues for the full duration of the song, and when it’s over A’whora has to fight every shady urge she possesses and clap for Tia, because she does look proud of what she and Veronica have made, even if it’s making A’whora cringe so much she feels her muscles constrict.

“Fuckin’ brilliant babes. You’ll walk it wi’ that,” Lawrence thumps Tia on the back encouragingly. Her face turns scheming as she opens her mouth again. “When you do become the activities officer, d’you think you could officiate some kind of anti-sickness pill for whenever Tayce and A’whora start cuddling on the sofa?”

A’whora can’t help the laugh she blurts out as she curls her fingers around Tayce’s. Tayce’s don’t wrap around hers in the same way. Instead she stiffens, smiles falsely at her flatmate.

“Yeah, Tia, do you think you could officiate some sort of anti-bullshit procedure for whenever Lawrence opens her bloody gob?”

“Aw, alright, alright. I’ve clearly touched a nerve,” Lawrence protests apologetically, but the twinkle in her eye suggests there’s more to come. “Although not as many as A’whora’s touched, clearly, aren’t there 8,000 of them in the clit?”

“Lawrence!” A’whora yells in outrage, but she’s laughing like the others are in spite of herself. Her heart drops though when Tayce tugs her hand away, crosses the room briskly to the hall door and wrenches it open, gone before she knows it.

All that’s left is a silence as awkward as it’s long.

Bimini bites their lip as they move first. “I’ll go talk to her.”

A’whora frowns. “Should I-”

“Best to leave it a bit, yeah?” Bimini advises apologetically, opening the door gentler than Tayce had before they disappear.

The silence only resumes for a second before it’s Ellie that breaks it.

“Lawrence!” she hisses, narrowing her eyes at her. Lawrence’s mouth drops open, shocked as she is offended.

“What the hell did I do?!”

Ellie gives a derisive laugh before A’whora can even say anything. “Are you joking?! You keep winding her up and it’s so obvious she doesn’t like it. You need to stop that shit.”

“Would you chill out? Tayce will be fine in about five minutes. The girl’s got a life threatening case of cannae-take-a-joke-itis and she fell and bruised her pride. I didn’t fucking...come in her mouth.”

Ellie gives a colossal roll of her eyes, folds her arms over her chest. “Cut the jokes out for a goddamn minute. You’ve hurt your friend’s feelings, are you not even going to go see what’s up with her?”

Lawrence gives a light shrug, unbothered. “Aw, listen to yourself! You’re being so overdramatic, Tayce is my friend, it’s just banter. She knows I don’t mean it. Anyway, it’s not like A’whora minds!”

“Well a relationship consists of two people, Lawrence. Not that you’d know,” Ellie snaps. Her bluntness shocks A’whora and she’s vaguely aware of Tia and Veronica making a slow, awkward exit from the room, but this doesn’t stop Lawrence from firing back.

“Aw, says little miss loved-up herself? Where’s your fuckin’ other half then, eh? Since you know so much about relationships, clearly?”

For a moment, Ellie’s face is slapped with a look of pure hurt. It’s clear she didn’t expect Lawrence to match her energy, hit her with words she doesn’t mean just like Ellie has done to her. But then her expression steels and her jaw sets tight before her mouth opens again. “I might not have a boyfriend or a fucking girlfriend but at least I have the common sense and emotional range not to rip the piss out of my flatmates’ fragile fucking friends with benefits setup!?”

Lawrence scowls back, shakes her head with derision. “You know what, maybe you would have somebody if you didn’t spend half your fucking life moping about your flatmate, who by the way, is in love with her girlfriend and has been for fucking months!”

“Well at least I have feelings! What the fuck are you, a joke book in a skin suit?” Ellie retorts quickly.

All of a sudden it looks like part of Lawrence crumbles. Shutters fly down behind her eyes and A’whora can see Ellie regrets her words. It’s too late, though, because they’re out, and before Ellie can say anything else Lawrence is turning to A’whora and laughing with a sneer.

“Jesus Christ, who left the gate to the cunt farm open?!”

“Fuck you, Lawrence,” Ellie spits, before storming towards the door just as Tayce had done minutes earlier.

All that’s left is A’whora, Lawrence, and a tense silence. A’whora bites her lip. She knows she should go after Ellie, and she will. But Lawrence is standing rooted to the spot, her eyes trained on the door Ellie’s just left through, and they’re drowning in a deep regret.

“Lawrence,” A’whora starts, making to comfort her even though her mind is still on Tayce and what the matter with her is too.

“A’whora, it’s fine. I’m not arsed,” Lawrence waves her away, crossing the room to the kitchen. “Well, the human fucking joke book is gonny go make her dinner, if you’re wanting a bowl? I’m just making bolognese-”

“Babe,” A’whora cuts in again, without really knowing what she can say. Just then the door opens again and her heart rises with the thought that Tayce might be on the other side of it, but it’s Tia and Veronica, concern on both their faces.

“Sorry. We thought it was best to give you both a minute,” Tia explains, hovering nervously with her girlfriend at the door. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, Tia,” Lawrence sighs, her back turned and her shoulders heavy as she grips the side of the countertop. “I’ve just…”

There’s a pause that’s left lingering in the air like a heavy fog that not one of them can see clearly through.

“...fucked it with the girl I’ve liked for two years.”

A’whora watches Tia’s face contort in recognition. “...Ellie?”

As Lawrence sighs, her shoulders sag. “Yeah.”

Tia blinks, appeals to Veronica as if she would have any more of an idea. “Oh, Loz. I never knew.”

“To be fair, you’ve been pretty wrapped up in tiny blonde puppy love since the end of January,” A’whora says, unable to muster up the joy or good humour to make it into the joke it’s intended to be.

“Well if she was never going to see me as anything more than a friend before, she definitely isny going to now,” Lawrence says quietly, shuffling her feet as she moves to the fridge. “Especially since she’s got her heart set on someone else.”

“Who?” Veronica asks. A’whora holds her breath. Tia and Veronica clearly hadn’t heard what Lawrence and Ellie had said when they’d been arguing. If Lawrence is angry at Ellie for the things she’s said, now would be the perfect time to throw her under the bus, to make things awkward between her and Tia.

But Lawrence just shakes her head as she starts taking out her ingredients for dinner. “It’s not anyone you’d know. Someone we know from back home.”

A’whora takes the opportunity to distract the two girls, namely since her head is beginning to fill up with worst-case-scenarios involving Tayce. “Did you two hear Bim come out of Tayce’s room at all?”

Veronica shakes her head at the same time Tia speaks. “They’re still in there.”

A’whora nibbles on a little ragged nail on her right hand. Is Tayce annoyed at Lawrence or is she actually annoyed at her ? She doesn’t know what she’s meant to have done. Lawrence’s joke was lukewarm, fair enough, but she can’t help but think about Tayce’s reluctance to take her hand, the way she didn’t even crack a smile at the joke.

She shakes her head to clear her mind and moves to the kitchen door at the same time. If Tayce is busy with Bimini, she’s at least going to be there for her other close friend in the flat. “I’m going to go talk to Ellie.”

Before anyone (Lawrence) can protest, A’whora’s making her way down the hall and knocking on Ellie’s door. There’s a rapid snuffling before a thud of heavy, irked footsteps on the other side, and then the door is thrown open to reveal Ellie; mascara smudged, eyes red, and her mouth set in a line of irritation before her expression softens when she realises it’s A’whora.

“Can I come in?”

Ellie relents and opens the door, snuffling as she pads back to her bed and grabs the soft and well-worn Piglet plushie from on top of it, curls up into the foetal position, and thuds her head against the pillow.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” A’whora says softly, crossing the room and sitting down on the edge of Ellie’s bed beside her. “Obviously, like...things were said.”

“Obviously,” Ellie snorts out snarkily. A’whora narrows her eyes at her before realising Ellie’s got tears in hers, and her voice is thick with upset as she speaks again. “Fuck...I’m just so hurt and angry but I feel so guilty at the same time? I know I was nasty to Lawrence, and I know we argue all the time but this was different. This was real, and I hurt her, and…”

Ellie sniffs and wipes her nose on the back of Piglet’s ear. A’whora fights with every embryo she possesses not to screw up her face at the action.

“But fuckin’ hell, Lawrence...she hurt me too, you know? I mean she knows how much I liked Tia, and it’s taking me a while to get over her, and fuck, I know that’s stupid because we didn’t even go out, but like...I fucking take things to heart, you know? I care, and it’s not my fault she’s never cared about anybody other than herself.”

“Lawrence cares about you,” A’whora says, and it’s out before she knows it. She bites her lip as if to prevent any more words from coming out, but if Ellie’s picked up on her transgression she doesn’t show it. Ellie’s scowling as she sits up in bed, fixes A’whora with a disbelieving glare.

“She’s got a funny fucking way of showing it, then, doesn’t she? Lawrence’s default is just joke, joke, joke, deflect, and then joke some more. She’s incapable of being serious.”

“Ellie…” A’whora tries to interrupt. She doesn’t know what she wants to say, and she doesn’t know how she can make Ellie understand without revealing Lawrence’s secret. All she knows is that her exasperation at Ellie’s blindness and Lawrence’s moping is reaching a boiling point, and she’s never been so dangerously close to letting things spill.

“I mean I know that joke book in a skin suit thing was harsh, but she said it first, not me! She said that ages ago on my birthday night out, when I’d been upset about Tia and she was trying to cheer me up. And she’d said she had a heart underneath it all but fuck that, she doesn’t know the first thing about feelings.”

“Ellie-”

“Do you know of all the years we’ve been friends, she’s never once told me about anyone she likes? I mean I’ve told her every single time I like someone new. But it’s like, if she can’t even open up to me, who’s like, her oldest friend, then really who the fuck will she open up to-”

“Ellie! For fuck’s sake, listen!” A’whora cuts in, exasperated and at her wit’s end and still all too aware of the fact Tayce ran from the kitchen and hasn’t returned or attempted to see her. Squeezing her eyes shut and apologising to Lawrence in her head in case this goes disastrously wrong, A’whora opens her mouth again. “Lawrence likes you. Properly.”

It’s only when it’s out that A’whora feels the drop in her stomach, not least because she’s questioning how loud she actually blurted the whole thing out. She wants to say it’s worth it from the way Ellie’s left silent, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, but the possibility that she’s just completely wrecked a friendship only makes the guilt and dread sink in her stomach like a stone in a canal.

“I…” A’whora begins, unable to formulate her words properly for the upteenth time that day. She wishes she could be more like Bimini- think first, speak after- and, with a stab to her heart, she imagines what Tayce could be telling them in her room, how she could be opening up to Bimini in a way she couldn’t with her.

“Well,” Ellie finally formulates, her mouth still wide like a goldfish’s. “That’s, um. Unexpected information.”

There’s another silence where A’whora is just about to apologise, but then Ellie speaks again, wiping her eyes with her tears now completely gone. “Did she tell you this?”

A’whora scuffs her foot awkwardly, bites her lip before she lets her words out. “Lawrence told Tayce a while back. And Tayce told me. But nobody else knows, I don’t think.”

Ellie exhales heavily. “Okay. Good.”

There’s another pause where A’whora reaches out and takes Ellie’s hand. “Babe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin anything-”

“No, you’ve not. It’s just…” Ellie looks up to the ceiling, then squeezes her eyes shut. “...fuck, it’s complicated.”

A’whora’s stomach stops twisting with anxiety at Ellie’s words, and instead she finds her eyes widening a little as her curiosity is piqued. Ellie clearly notices her response and huffs a little sigh, tense and anxious and reluctant to reveal what it is that’s bothering her.

“Like...two years ago? Three years ago? A while back, anyway...I had feelings for Lawrence,” Ellie mutters into her plushie, and A’whora can’t stop the way she gasps Panto-style in shock. She would never have guessed that at all- in fact at times Ellie's friendship with Lawrence seemed one based on mutual exasperation- so to know that she had once felt the same about her friend is a revelation to say the least.

A’whora’s managed to elicit a smile from Ellie at her over-the-top reaction, and it seems to prompt her to keep going. “We were still in high school and we lived on opposite sides of the country...it would never have worked, and fifteen-year-old me knew that despite what I wrote in my diary and the initials I drew hearts round in my notebooks. So my feelings just ended up...dying off, I guess. We ended up being friends, and that’s been fine, you know? It’s not like I’ve been hiding a crush from her for years. But now...knowing she feels like that about me...it’s weird. It’s like all those feelings from when I was fifteen…”

“...have all come flooding back because you know Lawrence is a possibility for you now,” A’whora finishes for her, completely in sync with how Ellie’s rationalising things. Ellie rapidly points at her and nods emphatically.

“That’s exactly it! It’s strange. Like even though I know she’s my friend and nothing’s changed between us...I know I’m blushing, I can feel it, and my stomach’s got wee nervous butterflies. For fuck’s sake,” Ellie shakes her head in exasperation, covers her face with her hands. “It’s so embarrassing. And it’s awkward? What the hell am I meant to do, just go through there after a bust-up and be like ‘oh by the way, heard you fancy me’ ?”

A’whora hums in understanding. She thinks for a moment, both girls sharing a comfortable silence that’s cushioned by the secret that’s just been shared. And then she speaks. If only she’d had the wherewithal to do things in that order when she’d been with Tayce.

“You don’t need to do anything about it now. I’d say re-establish the friendship first. Sit on it for a bit,” she says. “See how you feel about her knowing what you know now as time goes by a bit.”

“Yeah,” Ellie nods slowly. She smiles gently, squeezes A’whora’s hand in gratitude. “Thanks, chick. I’m lucky to have made you as a friend.”

A’whora smiles back in affirmation, and she’s about to say the same when the door to Ellie’s room cracks open a little to reveal Bimini on the other side.

“Sorry to interrupt,” they say, apologetic and quiet. “I’m off round to Asttina’s. Just thought I should let you know so you could go talk to Tayce, A’whora.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks, Bim,” A’whora frowns minutely, a little thrown by their phrasing. She’s about to dig a little deeper when Ellie interrupts, a mischievous smile on her face as she addresses her other flatmate.

“Bimini, what’s actually going on between you and her? I know a lady never tells, but what about an enby?”

“Depends ‘ow much wine you put in ‘em. Laters,” Bimini winks, tuning on their heel and letting the door shut behind them. It leaves A’whora and Ellie alone to laugh, and then fall into a comfortable silence.

“I know you’ll want to talk to Tayce. I’ll maybe phone Anne. Talk this fucking...Eastenders episode of my life through with them,” Ellie laughs, shaking her head in disbelief and running her hands down her face. A’whora’s thankful for her permission, and she gives her hand a squeeze in return as she slips off the edge of the bed, pads softly to the door.

“Wish me luck. Got a feeling I’ll need it.”

Ellie bats her away flippantly. “‘Course you won’t. It’s Tayce. She’s so bloody gone for you it’s ridiculous.”

As A’whora smiles shyly and waves Ellie goodbye for now, she really hopes her friend is right.

The walk to Tayce’s room from Ellie’s is only a matter of metres, but with every step A’whora takes it only seems to drag longer, the mixture of apprehension and dread a deadly cocktail in her gut. She finds herself replaying Lawrence’s joke and her own reaction to it in her head, trying to figure out what she’s done wrong. She can’t come up with anything. So why does she feel responsible?

Finally reaching Tayce’s door she knocks gently and hesitantly, everything in her body tense as she waits to hear the yell of permission to enter. What comes instead is a come in that’s so muted A’whora’s left wondering if it’s even Tayce’s voice at all. She pushes the door anyway just in case, and as it slowly opens it reveals Tayce sitting on her bed with her knees up to her chest and her phone in her hand, her thumbs twisting furiously as she taps out a message on the screen.

Presumably a message to her friends back home about how much she now hates her. Good.

Tayce’s gaze flicks up from the screen when she enters, and unlike in Ellie’s room where she chose to sit on the end of the bed, A’whora remains at the door. “Hey. Am I alright to come in?”

Tayce gives a disinterested shrug. “Free country.”

A’whora feels her shoulders sag in response. Well, we’re off to a great start here.

Trying not to get too disheartened too quickly, A’whora moves to sit on the chair at Tayce’s desk. On top of it are scattered sketches, pieces of paper with little brush strokes of paint samples that resemble the colours cast against a wall when a diamond catches the light. In amongst the clutter of creativity, the scraps of insight into Tayce’s mind, A’whora’s eyes are caught by a sketch of a girl she thinks looks a lot like her.

“What’s up?” Tayce tugs her out of her observations, reminding A’whora why she’s here.

“Uh, just wondering what that was all about in the kitchen there,” A’whora checks her nails, picks at one of her cuticles nervously. “Just wanted to check you were alright.”

As A’whora looks up, she finds Tayce with her eyes still on her phone and her eyebrows raised. Her body language is tense as she nods slowly. “Mhm. I’m fine.”

A’whora can’t help the exasperated laugh she gives, finally prompting Tayce to look up from her phone with annoyance. “Tayce, come off it. You never hide how you feel. You practically held a UN summit that time Tia accidentally knocked your chicken shawarma on the kitchen floor. Look, don’t take anything Lawrence says too seriously, you know she just does it for a reaction.”

“I’m not annoyed at Lawrence,” Tayce says almost immediately, throwing her head back against her pillows and staring up at the ceiling before covering her face with her hands.

A’whora’s stomach feels tight. She’s never seen Tayce this in her own head. Normally she’s honest about her feelings, upfront and real. Throughout their whole situation together, Tayce has always been open about the fact that they’re only hooking up, that they’re just friends that happen to have good sex, to the extent where it sometimes hurts A’whora’s own feelings. It doesn’t make sense that she’s in such turmoil about a pathetic joke.

“So you’re…” A’whora puts the pieces together, frowns at her deeply. “...what, annoyed at me?”

Tayce doesn’t reply. Her hands are still over her face. A’whora’s gut ties itself in a knot.

“How come? What have I done?” she asks, instantly hating how pathetic her words sound as soon as they’re out of her mouth.

“I just feel humiliated, alright, A’whora?” Tayce sighs exasperatedly, hands suddenly launching themselves away from her face. She won’t look at her. “I’m sick of being embarrassed while you laugh along with the shitty jokes like an idiot. There. Happy?”

A’whora’s bottom lip sticks out in response to Tayce’s words, feeling like she’s been punched in the stomach. It’s the delivery that’s almost worse; Tayce isn’t a shouter, and her anger isn’t loud, instead quiet and muted and so out of character. Her annoyance clashes so violently with the way she expresses other emotions that it knocks A’whora for six. She’s confused and she’s hurt and that feeling of dread just won’t go away.

“Tayce, I can’t...I can’t apologise to you and make up if I don’t know what I’m apologising for. I’m really sorry I’ve made you feel like shit but...I don’t get how me laughing at Lawrence’s stupid jokes has affected you that badly?”

“Brilliant. Because famously any apology that’s followed by a “but” is always an award winner,” Tayce finally looks at her through narrowed eyes, sarcasm dripping from her words.

“You’re being unfair,” A’whora says, unable to help the way she glares back at Tayce. The upset and the guilt is slowly being mixed with frustration and irritation, the emotions seeping together like watercolour paints down a drain when Tayce washes her paintbrushes. “I want to give you a proper apology, but I can’t if you don’t tell me what I’ve done wrong. You’re this upset over me laughing at a couple of jokes? I don’t buy it. Tayce, what are you not telling me?”

Tayce gives a laugh of irritated disbelief, launches herself up to a sitting position. “Oh my God, do you hear yourself? You’re literally telling me I’m not allowed to be as annoyed as I am about the situation? ‘You can’t be this upset over a couple of jokes’, well what if I am?”

A’whora falls quiet, but she can feel the fury bubbling in her blood, simmering under her skin until there’s goosebumps forming on her arms and she has to fold them across her chest, hoping that the slight hug she’s giving herself is going to make her feel better. She bites her lip as she flounders in her thoughts, not quite drowning but not quite keeping her head above water either. She needs some coherency. Nothing seems to make sense.

“Tayce, please. What is going on? You’ve been off with me for a while,” A’whora sighs helplessly. A little puzzle piece slots itself together in her brain, a small speck of clarity in the chaos of her thoughts. “In fact things haven’t been the same since everyone found out about us.”

“Don’t just start making shit up,” Tayce shakes her head, but her voice is quieter and with less conviction than it held previously. It sounds as if even she doesn’t believe what she’s saying.

It’s with this that A’whora seems to find another puzzle piece, and then another, and then another, until they all fall together as a clearer picture with only perhaps one or two bits still missing. The fact Tayce hates the jokes. The fact Tayce gets embarrassed when A’whora laughs at them. The fact Tayce only seems to be herself when they’re together just the two of them.

“Oh my God,” A’whora says quietly, realisation making her face drop. “You hate that people know.”

“You know what? Yeah. I kind of do,” Tayce’s voice is heavy with exasperation, and she huffs another sigh that seems to rip through her whole body. The irritation flares up at A’whora’s heart again like a pilot light, and she feels her hands fly out wildly and her voice raise as she speaks again.

“Christ, Tayce, well if the idea of the others knowing we’re shagging is such an embarrassing prospect to you then where the fuck do we go from here?!”

Tayce shakes her head, rubbing her forehead with a free hand. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. So what now, then? What, you just want us to stop?”

And then it’s only in the way Tayce avoids her gaze and the silence of the pause that follows that A’whora feels her worst fear launch itself into the forefront of her mind, so visceral and powerful that it seems to grab her throat in a chokehold, rendering her incapable of saying anything more.

Another puzzle piece falls into place. The fact that the reason A’whora secretly likes Lawrence’s jokes is the same reason why Tayce doesn’t; because they’re a reminder that, for all intents and purposes, that they’re together, that they’re seen as a unit.

Maybe Tayce doesn’t want that.

A’whora finally speaks again, her voice plaintive and small as it breaks the silence like a mirror. “Tayce?”

Just as Tayce exhales, runs a hand through her hair, and opens her mouth to speak, there’s a cataclysmic screech from down the corridor in the direction of the kitchen, followed by a litany of swearing in a voice that couldn’t be anyone but Lawrence’s. They both immediately look at each other in horror and, even though there’s still a sick feeling of dread in A’whora’s stomach, she shoots up from her seat and opens the door to Tayce’s room. As she runs down the corridor urgently, Tayce is following after her.

What they find in the kitchen is nothing short of chaos; Tia and Veronica are standing in the middle of the room helplessly while Ellie stands near Lawrence in the same way a lion tamer would approach a lion, as Lawrence hisses and growls and clutches her hand. It soon registers to A’whora what’s happened judging from the blood on the countertops, the blood on the kitchen knife, the blood on a half-chopped carrot, and the blood that’s currently flowing out of either Lawrence’s fingers or her hand (A’whora doesn’t want to look hard enough to check).

“What in the name of Christ has happened here?!” Tayce asks quickly, as Lawrence looks at her with exasperation.

“I don’t know, Tayce, I’m no Taggart, but it would appear I’ve sliced my fucking finger off!” she bites back sarcastically, tears of pain in the corners of her eyes as Ellie tries to hand her the kitchen tea towel. Lawrence looks at it as if Ellie may as well have handed her a toddler’s shit-filled nappy. “Not the tea towel, are you off your nut?! I cannae mind the last time we washed that. I’ve sliced through my fucking finger, I don’t want to add sepsis into the fuckin' mix!”

“I’m just trying to help!” Ellie fires back, equal parts hurt, worried and cross.

“I’ll get a clean towel,” Tia says quickly, running through to her room with urgency.

“Should we call an ambulance?” A’whora asks, biting her lip and unable to do anything except watch the events unfold. Veronica shakes her head.

“It’s not really life threatening, we shouldn’t phone 999.”

“Not life threatening?!” Lawrence cries in outrage, as Tia returns with a towel and hands it to her. “Have you seen the amount of blood I’m losing? I’ll be amazed if I’m still alive within the hour!”

“Don’t be dramatic. It looks worse than it is,” Ellie shakes her head, helping Lawrence wrap the towel around her hand and getting blood on the sleeve of her jumper in the process. The gesture renders Lawrence less hostile towards her than she seemed to have been before, and she grips Ellie’s hand with the one she hasn’t injured.

“I think it’s Accident and Emergency or Minor Injuries for something like this,” Veronica explains calmly, looking at her phone where she’s presumably just looked the information up.

A’whora turns to Tayce quickly. Even though they still haven’t resolved their argument, their friend is still in need of help and they have to work together. “Could you drive her?”

Tayce pulls an awkward face, looks at the blood splatters surrounding Lawrence. “Is there not a bus that goes out to the hospital? I’m just thinking about the stains in my car-”

“Aw aye, that’s right, yeah. I’ll hop on the number six out to A&E just so you don’t get blood stains in your ‘13 plate fuckin’ Corsa,” Lawrence snaps, Ellie looking at Tayce with a similar incredulity.

“No, no, you’re right, fuck, of course,” Tayce shakes her head, running her hands down her face. Even after everything they’ve said, A’whora feels her heart hurt for Tayce; she’s clearly distressed by the sight of the blood, and A’whora can see her growing more tense with each passing second.

“If you drive I can come with you and keep an eye on Lawrence while you concentrate on getting us there,” she suggests. Tayce nods with a grim acceptance.

“Okay. I’ll need someone to direct me anyway, I’ve got no idea where the fuck I’m going.”

“I can come and sit with Lawrence in the back and A’whora can do the directions?” Ellie immediately suggests. It seems as if her argument with Lawrence has been forgotten, and the two of them are still holding hands.

“Okay, great. I’ll get my keys,” Tayce shrugs, dashing out of the room.

Tia turns to the rest of the girls. “While you guys are gone, me and Ronnie can clean up? I don’t know if we’ll get our deposit back at the end of the year if there’s blood stains on shit.”

“Tia, babes, there’s a human element to all of this, fuck the deposit!” Lawrence hisses, her eyes squeezing shut in agony. Ellie’s face is distressed, and her eyes dart to the kitchen cupboards.

“Do you want ibuprofen? Might help with the pain?” she suggests. If the situation wasn’t so dire, A’whora would laugh.

“Are you joking?” Lawrence asks incredulously, then upon seeing Ellie’s face realises she isn’t. A’whora watches as Lawrence pulls a face and a tight, uncomfortable smile takes hold on her face. “No. I don’t think ibuprofen is going to do much good somehow. But thank you for offering.”

Tayce returns with her car keys and rallies the four of them out the door, getting some odd stares from the other students in the courtyard as they run past frantically, Lawrence’s entire hand still wrapped in a too-big towel. They have to jog for a considerable length of time to get to Tayce’s car, the busy nature of the winding city streets rendering parking anywhere near their flat nigh on impossible. Usually A’whora wouldn’t mind the distance. Usually she’s happy to stroll easily, one hand in Tayce’s and the other relaxed by her side, butterflies in her stomach and a tug in her chest as they talk about their plans for wherever they’re headed.

This time, though, with an argument still hanging over their heads like a thundercloud which isn’t yet resolved and a friend with half a finger hanging off, the journey to the car is more than a little unwelcome.

Soon enough though they’re all scrambling to get inside, Ellie helping Lawrence with her seatbelt in the back seat and A’whora scrolling her phone ferociously to bring up Google Maps for the directions to the hospital. Tayce drives irresponsibly with scant regard for road safety regulations. In any other situation, A’whora would find it insanely attractive that Tayce is driving like she’s in a game of Gran Turismo just to get Lawrence to A&E quicker. Fuck, she does still find it attractive. But her stomach is still in a huge tangled-up knot over the note their conversation got left on.

“What actually happened, Lawrence?” Tayce asks, A’whora having to hold in her gasp of a reaction as Tayce narrowly avoids getting rear-ended while pulling out into the overtaking lane of the dual carriageway.

Lawrence gives another hiss of pain before she answers. If A’whora didn’t blink she could’ve sworn she saw Ellie squeeze her hand in the rear-view mirror. “Was talking to Veronica and Tia while I was cutting up the carrots. They said something and I turned around to respond and I didn’t look as I chopped. Stupid fuckin’ cow.”

“You’re not stupid. It’s an easy thing to do, I’ve nicked myself so many times when I’ve been cooking!” Ellie placates her. Lawrence gives a laboured chuckle in response as A’whora checks the map and tells Tayce to take a left at the next roundabout.

“Aye, fuck’s sake. The most un-co-ordinated, clumsy bitch is sat beside me with all ten fingers in tact after nearly a year of having to fend for herself meanwhile I’m sat fighting for my life. Honestly, if you fell in the Clyde you’d come out wi a salmon in your mouth.”

A’whora sneaks a look in the mirror to see both girls giggling softly and quietly, their gazes either in their lap or out the window. They’re still holding hands. A’whora thinks it’s ridiculous to be jealous of two girls who haven’t even so much as kissed, but their soft friendship and what could eventually become a mutual crush makes her nostalgic for what she and Tayce used to have.

They eventually arrive at the hospital, and once they’ve all collectively recovered from the prospect of having to pay £5 for parking they run into A&E and up to the little desk, where it takes an infuriatingly long length of time to check Lawrence in. They then are required to wait amongst the other invalids of the city on four hard blue plastic chairs, which are uncomfortable after five minutes, never mind how long Lawrence will inevitably have to wait to be seen.

The little whiteboard on the wall says that the wait time is eighteen minutes.

The conversation between the four girls is stilted; it’s not the free and easy style A’whora has come to expect between any of her flatmates. But there’s still two sets of arguments without a resolution that’re preventing them from interacting like they usually would, and a hospital waiting room that’s already covered in a blanket of tense, awkward silence shared between strangers is not the place to reconcile either of them.

Eventually, and long after the promised eighteen minutes, Lawrence’s name is called. She half-walks half-jogs up to the nurse at the little door through to the hospital, then hesitates as she reaches her.

“Can I have one of my friends in with me?” A’whora hears her ask, her voice still strained and the pain she's feeling evidently still very much present.

The nurse nods kindly, and as Lawrence turns around there’s a sudden hesitation to her usually confident body language.

“Ellie?” she calls over, gesturing with her free hand for the other girl to come with her. Ellie barely even looks back at A’whora and Tayce as she gets up from her seat quickly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she follows Lawrence into the hospital.

There’s a moment’s silence where A’whora looks at the squeaky green linoleum floor, and then Tayce speaks.

“Aw. You’re welcome, love,” she says, soft and sarcastic and already putting a little smile on A’whora’s lips. “All I did was drive you out to the arse-end of the suburbs to get your finger sewn back together. But go on. Pick Ellie. Heard getting stitches is a great time to shoot your shot.”

A’whora laughs softly. Maybe this whole situation has been forgotten about. Maybe their entire argument was just a dream (a nightmare) and she’s just happened to have woken up in a hospital waiting room.

And then Tayce gives a heavy sigh, her body tense beside her own. No such luck.

A’whora thinks it’s apt that they're stuck in the waiting room. She feels like she’s waiting herself. For what, she doesn’t know. Waiting for an end to her and Tayce’s conversation from earlier, waiting for closure. Waiting for Tayce to reassure her that things are okay between the pair of them, or at least for her to explain what she’s meant to have done wrong. With every passing minute her stomach grows tighter, to the extent where it’s almost painful. She feels like following Lawrence and Ellie through those doors to get it checked out. Her heart rate alone would probably break the machine.

Sitting in the heavy emptiness of the lack of conversation, A’whora attempts to muster up the courage to breach the topic they both had to drop so frantically earlier that day. The thing is, she doesn’t want to. The fear of not knowing Tayce’s response to her question- the fear of the worst-case-scenario answer- is enough to lock A’whora’s jaw shut. If she doesn’t speak, they’ve still got what they’ve got. If she doesn’t speak, their relationship hasn’t changed.

She’s not even fooling herself.

Sure enough, Tayce eventually gives another huge huff. A’whora can see her turning to look at her but she doesn’t tear her eyes off the floor. She doesn’t want to acknowledge the conversation that’s about to take place.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me earlier.”

A’whora stays still and quiet, like a child hiding under her duvet. Tayce’s tone doesn’t hold a lot of promise. It’s flat and quiet and sincere and so lacking in life that maybe A’whora can try and pretend it’s not her that’s speaking at all.

“And I think, yeah. I think we should stop.”

A’whora is glad she’s looking at the floor. It’s suddenly an anchor that she never knew she needed. The walls of the hospital seem to crumble, the people around her seem to disappear. Her gaze is concentrated on the shiny green, that horrible shade of shiny green, and she holds onto it because if she lets go she’s going to have to look at Tayce and she can’t look at her right now. Not if the way her eyes are stinging painfully and her heart has dropped into her stomach and her throat has gone all tight and constricted as if she’s being choked is anything to go by.

“I think things have changed between us and I don’t want to lose the friendship we’ve got. And to be honest, the others knowing is weird. And we said it’s only awkward if we make it awkward, and I think at this point things are awkward. So...yeah. We should go back to just being friends,” Tayce continues quietly.

A’whora barely even registers her words, just their pitch and tone that burrs like an organ at a funeral. There’s a horrible, sickening sense of finality that grips her body, so much so that she feels as if she can’t move. If she moves she’s acknowledging that life goes on, that Tayce’s decision is final. The small background noises that were once so present in the room seem to cease to be, and instead a ringing, buzzing silence fills her ears. She blinks and she’s relieved when tears don’t appear. She takes one slow, deep breath and takes her time before she trusts herself to speak.

“Okay.”

What else can she say? She’s not going to sit and plead and ask Tayce why, even though she doesn’t really understand her reasoning. Tayce doesn’t owe her an explanation; they weren't girlfriends, she reminds herself cruelly, and it’s not as if they’re breaking up. They’re just...stopping. Going back to being friends, just like that. As if nothing had ever happened. It’s something that’s clearly going to be easy for Tayce to manage.

A’whora feels like an absolute idiot. For being in too deep, for doing exactly what Ellie had said would happen way back in December when she first got with Tayce. She feels like she’s sunk with her heart to the bottom of the ocean and has to swim to the surface and her lungs are so tight as she tries to keep her breathing steady that she feels like she might as well be drowning.

She’s being dramatic. Maybe she isn’t. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what this is all meant to feel like.

Tayce doesn’t say any more, so neither does she. She keeps her blinking methodical and her breathing deep, having to concentrate on doing both. When she’s sure she’s mastered them, she brings her hand up to the pocket of her hoodie and takes her phone out.

How can it feel weird to move?

Her fingers are slow and deliberate as she hits each letter on the keypad. Ellie’s Whatsapp picture stares back at her, her happy smile clashing so violently with the situation at hand. Maybe it’s a strange first reaction, but A’whora is just going through the motions like a robot. Anything beyond not crying in front of Tayce is a bonus right now.

A: me and Tayce not together anymore please tell the others x

She stares at the screen after it’s sent, reads it over and over again torturing herself. She hopes Ellie will read it before she and Lawrence come back. Having to act as if everything is normal is so far beyond her at the moment.

It takes what must be her twentieth time reading her own message to realise what she’s sent, and in spite of everything she feels like laughing at her mistake.

Because she and Tayce were never together.

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shockdowndefiance · 3 years

Note

1, 7 and 11 for Allison Shepard and her preferred love interest?

Answering from this post here. Not specified which sections so I'm going to do one question from the top 3.

This is for Allison Shepard and Kaidan Alenko

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

In a Systems Alliance base in Jacksonville, FL, where Kaidan and Joker were joking/veering on mocking who their new XO would be, when Kaidan notices a Staff Lieutenant* in fatigues and with a sea bag over her shoulder. He doesn't think much of it - this is an Alliance base (one of the busiest on Earth, up there with Vancouver, Shanghai etc.) and being his polite self he asks her if he can help her with anything.

Allison doesn't say anything for a moment, eyeing him up, then Joker, then the ship, then back to Kaidan. As soon as she starts to speak all the pieces fall into place and he instantly recognises her the moment she says "Staff Lieutenant Allison Shepard. I believe I'm your XO."

* Yeah I got fed up with the ranks as they are in game/canon, so I made my own system. Shepard is a Staff Lieutenant, Kaidan is a Lieutenant, Ashley is a Gunnery Sergeant as of ME1

GENERAL

7. Who takes the lead in social situations?

Allison. No question about it. It's not that she's necessarily the more forward or outgoing of the two, but being a War Hero (and before that, daughter of a First Contact War veteran) she's more than used to plastering on a smile, making casual small-talk, and lending an ear to someone for one task or another, but always making sure to never promise anything completely.

As of ME1 Allison's been in the limelight for near-on seven years, received invites to multiple high class events (and when a tour of hers accidentally or accidentally overlaps, oh I'm so sorry I would have loved to come but duty calls) and is basically the Alliance's biotic, N7, and later Spectre poster child.

Kaidan is definitely the more withdrawn of the two, though he opens up enough around close friends and maybe a little alcohol in the mix. When he and Allison are out about their relationship, I imagine that he is quite affectionate in parties, always wanting to be by her and touching in some way (hand on elbow, holding hands, knees touching).

LOVE

11. What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

Hoo boy. I have a playlist of 88 songs, totaling almost 6hrs. This does cover the entirety of Allison Shepard's story up to (and a bit beyond the Reaper War) so not all of them are romantically linked. Of the ones that are, these are my favourite/tell the story in the best way:

Mass Effect 1:

Florence + The Machine - Cosmic Love - more for the melody and the title than the lyrics themselves. Allison is a Spacer, so there's a bit of romanticism around stars, the galaxy etc. around their relationship.

Sixx A.M. - Starts (Explicit Lyrics) - "Do you wanna go to heaven tonight...Do you wanna be my lover tonight...Do you want to see the stars before they fall". The romance scene between Shepard and Kaidan on the way to Ilos. Again a cosmic-linked song but the moment I heard this it became the Shenko song for me. Remember this one

Black Stone Cherry - Remember Me & Johnny Cash - Hurt - "Today was a hard day, I still can't believe that all of this is true...When I am gone, will you stay strong, don't cry, this is not a dream. When heaven calls, and stars they fall, believe, will you remember me?" & "What have I become, my sweetest friend? Everyone I know, goes away in the end"

AKA the ooof ow my heart songs. Needless to say this is after the destruction of the Normandy SR-1, both from Kaidan's viewpoint. The relationship between the two of them wasn't expressed, so while Allison's family can grieve and mourn in public, Kaidan cannot - and even to a point where he can't be that upset over his CO, can he?

Mass Effect 2:

Shinedown - If Only You Knew - "If you only knew, I'm hanging by a thread, the web I spin for you. If you only knew, I'd sacrifice my beating heart before I'd lose you." This is Allison post-Horizon, when things are heavy. She's pulled her head above water somewhat, but Horizon pulls her back down.

Shinedown - Through The Ghost - "Speak of the devil, look who just walked into the room, the guilted and faded notion of someone I once knew. All the perfect moments are gone, all the precious pieces are wrong." This was originally an ME3 song (Vancouver) but story-wise this now places at the end of ME2, when Allison is heading off to Aratoht. Hackett sends along Kaidan and this echoes her feelings when she sees him.

Mass Effect 3:

Sixx A.M. - Stars (Cinematic) - I told you to remember this one. In any official soundtrack this would be a reprise, the same song but in a more mournful way. Allison and Kaidan are now officially together, and while the spark of what was back on the ME1 is still there, the galaxy being at risk puts a damper on their ability to take time and enjoy being with each other.

Florence + The Machine - Bedroom Hymns - pure romance scenes song. Nothing else to add. Smutty lyrics.

Conchita Wurst - Heroes - "So let the walls come down and the colours light up the sky. We could be heroes, we could be heroes, tonight. Where the hearts break loose and love is like a battlecry, we could be heroes, we could be heroes, tonight".

This one takes a bit of explanation. On the approach to Earth for the final assault, in the small hours of the morning, a thought pops into Kaidan's head. He turns to Allison and simply says "Let's get married." Allison half-laughs but goes "Sure. When?" and 30mins later they're in the shuttle bay, wedding officiated by Joker.

This song (or at least the chorus) is what I imagine whenever I think of that scene. Allison and Kaidan do quick vows, exchange simple fabricated rings, and prepare for the assault. Their wedding day, not that they know it at the time, is also the day the Reaper War ends.

And Beyond...

Black Stone Cherry - Sometimes - "Couldn't we pretend that I'm fine, and this ain't my life. It's not the way it ends for me. Couldn't we pretend, you're not gone, you're still here, it's not true. It's not the way it ends for you.". I spent so long swapping this and Remember Me (in the ME1 section) around and I think I am happy with their placement.

The Reaper War is over. Casualties are many. Allison Shepard is in the hospital, in a medically induced coma, with multiple injuries. The Normandy and her human crew are reported as MIA with no one knowing their status.

This song is, in my mind, a duet sung between Allison and Kaidan, Allison on Earth and Kaidan who-knows-where in the galaxy. They both believe the other dead, and this is them both wishing that this is not the case, that maybe the other can find a way back to them.

In short, another ooof ow my heart song

Skylar Grey - I'm Coming Home Pt. II - I'm sure this is on a lot of people's lists. The Normandy systems are functioning, they're going to make it to Earth, and Kaidan finally gets in contact with the Alliance in London. He discusses what happens with the brass, and turns his head and hides a sigh when yet another higher up is introduced to him.

"Alenko. Good to see you again."

"Allison?!" His eyes snap back front and centre. She's alive, standing in front of him in the QEC. It's a hologram, but it's her. She's alive, on Earth. They made it. Both of them.

And the blood will dry Underneath my nails And the wind will rise up To fill my sails So you can down and you can hate But i know no matter what it takes I'm coming home, I'm coming home Tell the world that I'm coming home

❤️

#questions and answers #allison shepard #kaidan alenko #mass effect #shenko #fshenko #rosenkow #thank you #sorry this ended up being so long #and I gave myself feels with the songs

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salembride · 4 years

Text

A Dark Stranger pt.2

Summary: Rose makes a new friend and tries to comfort Jack with his loss of Lucy and Zoe.

Warnings: a little language

Jackie held the door open for me then followed me into the lobby of the Jonathan Harker Foundation. He brought a small file folder that Zoe had given him and took it to the receptionist at the front desk. Another woman in a white lab coat came out to meet him and motioned for him to follow her into the other room. Jackie turned to me with a pressed on smile and held up a finger to signal that he would only be a minute to which a gave a small nod of agreement. A picture of the late Jonathan Harker on the far wall catches my attention, so I start to make my way toward it when I hear the receptionist call out, “Miss, um.. Seward?” Assuming she was referring to me, I looked in her direction and found I was correct.

“Blayr, actually.” I laugh now stepping in her direction.

“Oh! My apologise. I just knew that Dr. Seward had said you were his cousin.” Her face had turned a light shade of pink from embarrassment, but I waved it off and smile.

“No, no. It is a simple mistake. Our mother are sisters. Half-sisters to be exact. I’m Rose.” I reach my hand over the desk and she takes it in a quick, gentle handshake.

“Kelly Anderson. So, how long are you here in London.”

“Well, I’m actually looking for a place here, but Jac- John doesn’t know that yet. I was planning on telling him the other night, but he’s hard a rather rough week.” My smile fades a little as does hers. “Now I’m thinking I should wait and find a place before I tell him. Maybe the surprise will cheer him up.” Then she gets a bright smile.

“Hey! If your moving here, your going to need some friends outside of just Dr. Seward, especially if your planning on surprising him! I’d be glad to help you look around if you want.”

I’m to not let my nervousness show. I’ve never really been a big people person, and I never know how to behave around strangers, but Kelley seems nice enough. “That would be great. Thank you Kelly.”

“You’re welcome! Here’s my number! Oh, and here comes Dr. Seward.” I take the little piece of paper and put it into my purse. Maybe i just wont call, and if I see her again, I’ll just explain that I lost it. Is that bad? Yeah... probably. I don’t know; I’ll figure it out later. Right now it’s time to take care of Jackie.

“Ready?” Jackie offers his arm to me, and I wave ‘goodbye’ to Kelly. Once we get outside, Jackie asks, “So, you dating women now?” Then he chuckles at my confused expression. “Kelly is a lesbian,” he smirks.

“What? Oh no! I hope I didn’t give her the wrong idea. I don’t want to hurt her feelings! She just said that she thought I may want some friends here.” Jackie faces me and grabs both of my shoulders.

“Relax! I’m only giving you a hard time. I promise that Kelly will not be offended. Even if she is interested in you, she’ll understand. She’s really sweet.” I still feel really bad but decide to let it go. Jack and I continue our walk to a little bakery where we grab our breakfast and some hot coffee before heading to the park. We find a nice bench and watch some ducklings play in the lake, laughing when one puts its head underwater and the others swim around him in concern before he lifts his head dramatically causing water to splash the unsuspecting siblings. Mother duck swims closeby, looking for a small snack floating near the top of the water, but she is constantly checking up on her young ones. I can’t help but smile at the sight, and it’s good to hear Jack laugh quietly. I look at him and see a small, pained smile on his face with a hint of red near the corner of his mouth. I chuckle to myself again, grabbing my napkin and wiping it away.

“Jam.” I say showing him the napkin with the small red stain.

“Oh. Haha.” He rubbed his lips and chin as if he has thought of something and then tries to scrub something off his face... and I don’t think it’s jam. Then I realize.

“Are you thinking about Lucy?”

“Yes. I kissed her. Right before she died. I wanted to. I loved her, but I shouldn’t have.” He bowed his head defeated.

“Shouldn’t have loved her? Or shouldn’t have kissed her?” I question.

“Both.” I’m pretty sure it was more of a sigh then an actual word. “I’m sorry, Rose. I just- I don’t know.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it. I mean, I don’t understand how you feel because I’ve never lost a guy that I was in love with. You’re allowed to be confused and distressed. There would be something terribly wrong with you if you weren’t feeling these things. I just wish that there was something that I could say or do to help, but I know there isn’t. So, I feel pretty useless.”

“You’re not. You’re not useless. There is just so much about this whole situation that I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. There are so many secrets that would destroy so much. And you, oh you’d think I was crazy if I tried to tell you everything.” He put his head in his hands and shook it back and forth. “Ugh, it’s just so hard to keep all of this in. I had no idea what I was signing up for when I agreed to help the Foundation. I thought I knew, but I was clueless. For them, there is no feeling or emotion in any of this. It’s just study. Research. Zoe, she was the one who cared. I don’t know why, but she did. Her approach to it was different and unconventional, but she knew what she wanted out of this. She knew her goal and how much time she had to attain it. But, now, it’s worthless, and she and Lucy are both gone. It’s hard. It’s so fucking hard! I feel like it’s my fault. Like I should have stopped it, somehow.”

I sat quietly for a long time. I don’t really know what to say. I don’t even know what this “It” is. I know nothing about this classified research that Jackie was helping conducted. Nobody outside of JHF does. I wish I did. It might help me know what to say now. “Jack, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” We sat there for another long while in silence before deciding to head back. Jack walked me to the hotel and promised to call if he needed anything.

___________________________________

I ran upstairs to my room and when I pulled out my keys to unlock the door, a piece of paper fell out: Kelly’s number. I picked it up and walked inside; I sat my purse down and paced around the room. “Why not? Step outside of your comfort zone and make some friends. Maybe Jack was wrong, and Kelly wasn’t hitting on you. Maybe she really does just want to be your friend. Why are you talking to yourself? You know what? If you had friends you wouldn’t have to talk to yourself. God, what am I, schizophrenic? That’s it. I’m doing it!” I Picked up my phone and put her number into my contacts. I know she’s at work, but I’m sure she’ll answer when she can.

*Hey, Kelly! This is Rose, Jack’s cousin.* Okay, now i just have to wait for her to- nope there it is. That was fast.

*Rose! Hi! I wasn’t sure if you would actually contact me. I’, glad you did.*

*Haha, yeah. I wasn’t sure either, honestly. I guess I’m rather timid when it comes to people I don’t know. I don’t make friends very easy.*

*Girl, that’s okay. I understand. I’ll just make it my job to get you comfortable with people! Take you to a few parties. Introduce you to some nice boys. Really get you into the London scene.*

*Boys?*

*Well, yeah.... let me guess. Jack informed you that I’m a lesbian? Don’t worry. It was pretty obvious that you aren’t. But if you ever want to try anything, I’ll be glad to help you with your experiments. After all, I do work at a place that’s pretty devoted to science. ;)*

*Haha, oh wow. I’ll remember that for the future. Thank you.*

*Oh, god. I haven’t made you uncomfortable, have I?”

*No, Kelly. You’re fine. I think I’m going to like being your friend.*

*GOOD! In that case, you should meet me for drinks tonight at the club. I may know of a place for you to live too, if you’re interested.*

*That sounds good. Yes!*

*Great! I’ll send you the address to the club later. And, Love, wear something stunning. XO*

*I’ll do my best. :)*

Oh no... I just agreed to meet her at a club. What does a girl wear to a club? Because “stunning” isn’t very detailed. I open my phone and google “What do women wear to the club in London.” YIKES! I definitely don’t own anything quite like that. I wouldn’t say that I’m an overtly modest dresser, but I’m very self conscious. I know I’m not ugly, but I’m not a jaw dropper/showstopper kind of girl either. I’ve still got a few hours but decide to go ahead and find a dress in my closet. I finally choose a little green dress with a black, lacy back. It’s not really a club kind of dress, but it’s probably the most stunning thing I brought with me. When I came to London, I wasn’t exactly expecting to go to a club. I’ll just wear my black heals and maybe that will bring it up to par.

Several hours pass and the sun is going down. I’ve donned my “club wear” though I feel kelly will disagree, and decided to leave my natural, curly, blonde hair alone. It actually looks decent for right now, and I’ve learned the hard way that on the rare occasion that your curly hair is nice to you, you should be nice to it in return or it will enact its revenge by frizzing so bad that I look like one of those red-seeded dandelions before the wind blows. That’s always a disaster. I jump into the cab waiting for me outside and give him the address of the club. When we arrive, Kelly is outside waiting for me, and I can tell she is amused when I step out.

“Honey, we are going shopping tomorrow to get you some more clothes.” She states rather matter-of-factly.

“Hey! I have better clothes back in the States, I just didn’t bring them because I didn’t know I’d be coming to a club.”

“Well, they aren’t doing you any good there. Besides you’re moving here, and it’ll will be a while before you get all of your stuff.” She laughs linking our arms as we enter the club.

“Wow! It’s really loud in here!” I feel like I’m screaming.

“Yeah! Welcome to a club! There’s some cute boys! Let’s get you some free drinks!”

And I’m not gonna lie, I don’t remember much else about last night. The next thing I remember is waking up, here in a bed that is certainly not mine from the hotel. Oh shit! I didn’t! No, I’ve still got my dress and everything else on from last night. Whew. Suddenly, the overhead light turns on, and I cower under the blankets as my head starts to throb. I’m going to be sick, I can feel it.

“Good morning, lightweight.” I hear Kelly’s voice say with a bit of laughter laced through it. “I’ve brought you to medication for your head. I can imagine you need it. The door off to your right is a bathroom. You’ll probably feel better if you take a nice shower.” I nod in agreement and an hour later emerge from the bedroom with my damp hair and eyes still squinting against the sun. “Ah! She survived! How’s your head?”

“Well, it was doing better before you announced my survival to all of England.” I rub my temples and close my eyes.

“Oh, sorry about that, love.” She says in hushed tones now. “I’m just very excited to talk to you about where you should live.”

“Yeah, I’m excited to her what you’ve got for me.”

“Well, I was thinking that maybe you could live here with me. The room you stayed in last night was my old roommate lived, but since she moved out it’s been a guest room, and rent is kind of high by myself. If you want it, it’s yours.”

“Really?” I ask with a smile and Kelly nods, her smile matching mine. “Then, yes! Thank you!” We hugged each other and she looked down at me.

“We are definitely buying you some new clothes though!” We spent the next thirty minutes laughing like teenagers; I even forgot that my headache when Kelly got a text message. Her eyes went wide. “I’ve got to change and got into work. Something has come up. Feel free to do what you want in the house; it’s yours now too. I’ve already pulled the spare key for you, so you won’t be stuck her all day. It’s just there on the table. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but it’s an emergency.” She said while running around like a mad woman gathering her things.

“That’s alright. Thank you!” I just decided I would text Jackie to see if he could help me move out of the hotel room, but I quickly responded that he couldn’t because of an emergency at JHF. Probably the same emergency Kelly was running in for. What could possibly have them in such a frenzy? That’s when I noticed Kelly had left her phone open. It was a message from the Foundation. How could three simple words spark so much panic in both her and Jackie. All the message said was.

*He’s here. Alive.*

#dracula2020 #dracula #johnseward #vampire #claes bang #lucy westenra #jonathan harker #zoe van helsing #bloodsucker #chapter2 #fanfiction #eventual smut #claes bang is daddy

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rather-impertinent · 5 years

Text

Happy Endings Are No Myth

A/N: Good morning, friends! This fic is inspired by 2 particularly lovely promo shots from 5.08, so there are possible spoilers ahead. There is also fluff ahead. So much fluff. Remember that cosy blanket at your grandmother’s house? This fic is that. Enjoy xo

~~~~~~~~~

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs Samuel Carne!”

Cheers rang out from the wedding party as the bride and groom shared a shy kiss. Demelza, Jeremy and Clowance quickly and gleefully showered the newlyweds in flower petals.

Sam’s joyful laugh could be heard above the breeze and throughout the small village of Sawle as the rose petals showered around him. He looked down at his bride and smiled widely at her; Rosina returned his grin and kissed his cheek.

The fiddler led the way in front of the newlyweds, playing a lilting traditional Cornish tune. Sam and Rosina smiled softly at each other, betraying their solidified camaraderie and blossoming feelings of love.

“Oh, I’m that glad for Rosina,” Demelza gushed to Ross once the procession began to move towards the green where the party would be.

Ross’ lips twitched in amusement. “You’re glad for Rosina but not your brother?” he provoked, before he felt a soft nudge to his rib-cage. They slowed to a crawling pace and hung back so that eager villagers could scurry past them.

Demelza cackled and linked her arm through his. “No, Ross, ‘course I be happy for Sam, too,” she laughed. “I just think Rosina d’ deserve some happiness after all she’s been through!”

“I second that,” Dwight chimed in from behind his two dearest friends, remembering Rosina’s hardships from such a young age from her lameness to her being jilted a fortnight before her wedding. And then again on the day a few years ago. Not to mention her father’s recent trouble.

“Dr Enys has always had a soft spot for Rosina and her temperamental knee,” Caroline supplied, a teasing smile stretched across her face as she hung off her husband’s arm. “Did you know I once considered her my closest rival? She can knit a scarf much neater than I. I believe Dwight still has it in a cupboard upstairs,” Mrs Enys told Ross and Demelza, who laughed at her.

Dwight gently rolled his eyes at Caroline. “I assure you, my love, there was no contest,” he murmured.

“Indeed, there was none,” Ross insisted with a cheeky grin. “Besides scurvy at the mine, Dwight talked of nothing else but you for an entire year!” He laughed when Dwight drew him a warning look.

“Oh?” Caroline asked Ross, her interest piqued. “Pray tell.”

A scarlet blush rose on Dwight’s cheeks, which was ridiculous, he realised, seeing as he had been married for 8 years now. “Ross, please, no.”

“Alright,” Demelza chirped, evidently more than happy to step in on her husband’s behalf. “Dwight would often come to tea with I and talk my ear clean off about you and the lights of your hair and your cornflower blue eyes and your laugh and how red your lips were and how propriety be damned and he would simply have to elope with you and how he’d walk to the ends of the earth if it meant you two could be together,” Demelza concluded with a teasing romantic sigh as she brought her hand to her forehead to imitate fainting; Ross snickered against her shoulder. “Am I mistaken, Dr Enys?”

Dwight, torn between cringing and laughing at the jest, smothered a smile. “Some parts are greatly exaggerated.”

“I should hope not,” Caroline said with a mock pout, leaning closer to her husband. “So you would not walk to the ends of the earth for me, Dr Enys?”

Dwight smiled softly at her; they all knew that he would. An idea then occurred to him, a payback of sorts. “It is worth noting that Ross does not have a leg to stand on in such regards,” Dr Enys announced with a smirk.

Ross frowned in genuine confusion. “To what are you referring, Dwight?”

Dwight looked at Caroline and betrayed his meaning within that single look; Caroline laughed and winked at her husband. “Dr Enys is correct, Demelza,” she insisted, glancing at her red haired friend, “you ought to hear how Ross speaks of you while you are not with him.” Caroline shot Ross a gleaming, mischievous smile.

“Oh, please, God, no,” Ross muttered, placing his hand over his eyes unable to watch whatever spectacle was about to unfold.

“‘Oh, I wish Demelza were here, she would know what to say’,” Caroline mocked in a deep voice, imitating Ross’.

Dwight laughed and gently nudged his wife, with whom he was now in cahoots. “‘I miss Demelza, do you suppose she and the children would come now if I sent word and asked?’” Dwight cited from a conversation they had three months ago in Ross’ London lodgings.

“‘Demelza would love this meal, I must bring her here next time she is in London,’” Caroline quoted, her tone still teasing.

“‘That gown would look fine on Demelza’,” Dwight continued.

Demelza giggled behind her hand though shot her husband a genuinely touched look.

“Alright!” Ross half-laughed, half-whined. “Is it a crime for a man to miss his wife?!” he wondered, crossing his arms defensively.

Gently placing her hand on his cheek, Demelza murmured: “No, it is not.” She then placed her other hand on his other cheek and kissed him deeply. Gazing into his hazel eyes, which crinkled in contentment, Demelza could not think of a more opportune moment to tell him of her news. She was never certain how he would react to such a thing, but it was better to catch him in a good mood than a sour one. “Dwight, Caroline, could you give Ross and I a moment?”

Caroline’s slightly narrowed gaze flickered suspiciously between Ross and Demelza. “Of course,” she said, breezily linking arms with Dwight and leading him away.

Standing on the sandy cobblestones in front of Mr Hosking’s house, Demelza bounced anxiously from one foot to another and back again, wondering how best to broach the subject. Would frankness be more fitting or would a teasing, romantic hint be more appropriate? Then again, picking up on hints was certainly not one of Ross’ strengths.

“Well?” Ross asked after a few moments of silence. “What did you wish to speak to me about?”

“I- I’m tryin’ to find the right words,” Demelza stammered, trying to exhale her jitters. Logically, she thought Ross would be pleased, but if there was one thing Demelza had learned thus far it was that life was not always logical.

“Should I fetch your red dictionary?” he taunted playfully, recalling how in the early days of their marriage Demelza would pour over the dictionary so that she would sound - in her own words - ‘less common-like’, so as not ‘embarrass’ him in public.

“Ross, don’t tease me, I’m tryin’ to tell you somethin’,” Demelza complained in a despairing whine, though a smile tugged on the corner of her lips.

Ross took a step closer to her, a teasing smile etched on his face. “Then tell me,” he said, shrugging casually.

“Alright.” Demelza gently grabbed hold of the lapels of his coat and smiled softly. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I’m with child,” she then announced, meeting his gaze and unable to contain her smile.

Ross did not offer a verbal answer but his excited laugh echoed and was carried away with the wind as he quickly but deeply kissed Demelza before enveloping her into a spinning hug.

“Wait one moment, Dwight,” Caroline softly commanded, thinking she knew exactly what Demelza wished to speak to Ross about. “Look.” She pointed to the Poldarks several feet away from them; Demelza was fidgeting nervously and Ross was teasing her somehow.

“Caroline,” Dwight said a bit anxiously, trying to gently pull her away. “Their conversation is none of our business,” he insisted, feeling as though they were intruding.

Caroline theatrically rolled her eyes. “Dim your halo for one moment, Dr Enys, and watch,” she ordered.

Dwight looked upon his friends just in time to see Ross sweep Demelza from the ground and spin her around like a crazy schoolboy; their joyful laughter filling the air. A smile slowly spread across the doctor’s features. “What- is- does that mean what I think it means?” he asked his wife, who smiled in victory next to him, smug that her observations of Demelza’s behaviour these past few weeks had culminated in her being correct in her assumption.

“Yes,” Caroline murmured, pleased there would be another Poldark child; hopefully it would be as lovely as dear Jeremy and Clowance.

“You knew?” Dwight checked, women often shared such confidences before the news was relayed to husbands.

“Not for certain, Demelza said nothing,” Caroline informed him. “We women just know things that men can never hope to, even physicians,” she stated mysteriously, arching an eyebrow at Dwight, who accepted her claim without comment.

Linking his arm through hers again, Dwight led them back down the subtle slope so that they may go congratulate their friends. “It seems it is catching,” Dwight whispered happily, thinking of their own happy news Caroline had shared with him just two days ago.

Running a hand over her still quite flat abdomen, Caroline smiled softly. “It would appear so.”

“Demelza is with child!” Ross loudly announced as his friends approached, knowing it was already obvious from his reaction but wishing to proclaim it out-loud all the same.

The Enyses smiled widely at the Poldarks. “It is the most wonderful news,” Caroline enthused, looking between her two friends, who could barely stop grinning at each other.

“Well, not the most wonderful,” Dwight teased, his mouth swishing from side to side in an attempt to contain his grin.

Ross and Demelza frowned in confusion at Dwight’s comment. “What do you mean?” Ross asked; what news could be more wonderful than this?

Caroline bit her lip; she had no wish to steal Demelza’s thunder but she could sense that Dwight was practically dancing in his boots at the providential timing of it all. Besides, she knew that Demelza would not see it as unkindness, indeed, she’d probably cry of happiness. She nodded her permission at Dwight to relay the news.

“We, too, expect a new arrival in the coming months,” he announced, narrowly escaping bursting with pride.

The Poldarks both breathed a joyful laugh and Demelza’s eyes filled with happy tears.

“How magnificent!” Ross exclaimed, pulling Demelza closer and squeezing her with his arm. “And the children shall be so close in age! I’ve no doubt they shall be inseparable.” Much like their parents, he might have added.

“The coincidence is positively cosmic, is it not?” Dr Enys enthused, pleased that he would be both a father and an uncle again and in such quick succession.

“Must you always be so intellectual, Mr Science Man?” Caroline asked Dwight in a tease.

“Oh, ‘tis fate, I d’ feel it in my bones,” Demelza gushed, offering everyone in the group a teary smile. They had all endured such loss and hardship, and they had endured them as individuals and as a unit. Having survived their ordeals with grace, it was now their turn to be happy. “Well? Someone give me a hug!” Demelza ordered with a laugh; Caroline beat Dwight to it.

“When do you expect?” Demelza cheerfully asked her friend as they broke their friendly hug.

Caroline considered the question for a moment. “I think perhaps May, but I’m not certain. Indeed, it would be quite difficult to be certain,” she inferred suggestively.

Demelza smirked. “I d’ feel your ‘pain’.” The two women shared coy glances and smiles.

“Have you any idea?” Caroline wondered, lightly linking arms with her.

“I think perhaps February,” Demelza calculated, if with a little uncertainty.

Caroline’s mouth fell open and her arm slipped from between Demelza’s. “But, my dear, that is so soon, and one cannot yet even tell that you are with child!”

“That has always been true of Demelza,” Ross supplied. “She never shows until the last few months. She starves my growing children, you see, on account of not wishing to waddle around like a goose.” Ross winked at her.

Demelza shot him a look before she was fondly enveloped by Dwight.

Demelza hugged him tightly in return; she had long considered him an extra brother that she did not need but gladly accepted. “Oh, Dwight, I cannot recall being happier for another body than I feel for you at this moment,” she murmured; remembering how keenly he had felt the loss of Sarah, as she had with Julia. A second child was not only a blessing but a balm to heal the wound, and Demelza thanked God for Jeremy every day.

“Thank you,” Dwight said thickly as he released her from their fond embrace; their eyes shining. “You must take care of yourself,” the doctor told her, motioning to her small bump, which was only noticeable if one knew to look for it.

Demelza rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t start,” she scoffed lightly. “You d’ sound like Ross.”

“Can you ask Dwight to make up some posets for Demelza?” Ross whispered to Caroline as he hugged her. “I wish her to keep well.” He had whispered because he knew the matter was always a sensitive topic for Demelza and he did not wish to upset her with his fussing.

Caroline nodded in understanding. “I shall invite her over for tea and discreetly slip them into her cup as Dwight does mine,” she vowed, turning her attention back to Dwight and Demelza.

Ross exhaled, hardly able to believe so much joy could live in a single day. “If one is a boy and one is a girl then we shall marry them to each other,” he proclaimed.

“I’ll drink to that!” Dwight joyfully agreed with a grin.

“I shall not,” Caroline insisted with a mock frown of discontentment. “I should think our offspring could do better than a Poldark, Dr Enys.” In Caroline’s mind, there could be no one better.

Dwight schooled a smirk, immediately understanding her game. “That is true, my darling. They are exceedingly selfish and impulsive,” he said, pointedly eyeing Ross with a barely contained grin.

“And those Enyses, Demelza,” Ross said to her, feigning contempt, “are more stubborn and opinionated than any beings on earth.”

Dwight, Caroline and Demelza all laughed. “Hmm that all may be true, my dears, but ‘twould be no concern of ours seeing as the children would then be grown, and so we may sit back an’ enjoy the show!” Demelza concluded with mischievous chuckle.

“Now that I shall drink to!” Caroline exclaimed.

“In that case, shall we join the others now?” Demelza asked the group, smiling widely. It had been a long time since she felt so content. Nay, she thought, content was not strong enough, this was happiness, joy, elation.

Ross groaned softly to her left. “Must we?” he whined; his hatred of parties had softened none over his 42 years on earth.

“We must,” Demelza confirmed. “Come along Cap’n Poldark, we’ll see you get a cup o’ gin and then perhaps I might even persuade you to dance with me,” she flirted.

Ross laughed and comfortably linked his arm through hers. “Four cups and I might be tempted by the Six-Hand Wheel,” he wagered diplomatically, having honed his skills during his time as an MP.

“Nay, Ross, four cups be too much! You’d be fallin’ and staggerin’ about like a newborn lamb afraid of the slaughter!” Demelza insisted seriously; Ross barked a laugh - Demelza had the best descriptions for things. “Three cups are plenty.”

“Three cups, then,” he repeated in agreement.

The gathering was in full, jovial swing by the time they walked the five minutes it took to get there. Flowers were tucked into every crevice of the ground, attempting to liven up the dulling winter landscape. Fires were lit in droves on the borders of the area, including one massive bonfire which stood commandingly in the centre of the field; everyone danced around and next to it. Despite the slight winter chill, the flames were not needed, for warmth did not want here today.

“Are ‘ee happy?” Sam asked his wife as she sat on his knee as they watched their guests enthusiastically dance in front of them.

Rosina looked up at him, enraptured at being wed to such a fine man. “I am,” she confirmed.

Sam sighed happily. “‘Take delight in the Lord and he will-‘“

“‘-give you the desires of your heart’,” Rosina completed with a soft smile, resting her head against Sam’s shoulder.

“Shall we sit here?” Caroline asked, motioning to two free spaces to her left not too far from where Drake, Morwenna and Loveday all sat engrossed by each other’s company.

Ross’ arm went around Demelza’s waist as they walked over. “Perfect.”

An hour and five gins later, Ross and Dwight watched in amusement as a tipsy Demelza demonstrated the steps to the Mesk yn Merth to an even tipsier Caroline, who - despite considering herself half-Cornish - had never attended a proper Troyl and so did not know all the more traditional dances. Both women laughed as their arms got entangled when they bumped into each other; they hung onto each other’s waists for support as they cackled at their mistimed folly.

Ross sighed happily at the sight of Demelza’s smiling face. Though he knew nothing of how far along she was, her face already had an ethereal glow to it. “Are they not wonderful?” Ross asked his best friend in a slight slur, whose eyes were set adoringly on his own wife.

“They are,” Dwight sighed in agreement, still smiling softly as he watched the dance tutorial several feet in front of him. “We landed quite the windfall when we married them, did we not, my friend?” He looked at Ross.

Ross smiled. “We did,” he agreed. “Though I did not always realise just how lucky I was,” Ross admitted, thinking of a distant moment of spectacular idiocy and misjudgement.

“Nor I,” Dwight admitted, thinking of recent times. Ross looked quizzically at Dwight because of the admittance; Dwight smiled and shook his head. “But no matter, all has come well.”

“All has come well,” Ross repeated, the sentiment ringing truer than any he had uttered before. Ross nudged Dwight and raised his cup. “To Demelza and Caroline - and to the future.”

“To Demelza and Caroline and the future,” Dwight repeated, holding his cup aloft. “Cheers.”

“Cheers, my friend,” Ross said, clinking their cups together.

Without warning, Demelza and Caroline fell onto their husbands laps, causing them both to spill a little of the contents of their tankards. Demelza smoothly store Ross’ cup of port and drank it greedily, a powerful thirst upon her after dancing. Dwight did not wait for Caroline to steal his and simply offered it to her instead; Caroline privately lamented that it was not as fun this way.

“What mischief be goin’ on over here, Sirs?” Demelza asked, tone teasing and filling the air around them with light-hearted camaraderie.

Caroline placed a quick kiss on Dwight’s mouth and chuckled when his mouth chased her own as they parted. “I would rather not know, I think, Demelza. Dr Enys seems entirely too sentimental at present and I fear his comments may embarrass my good unfeeling name,” said Caroline, her eyes alight with mirth as Dwight’s soft eyes met hers.

He feigned consideration. “Do I embarrass you?”

“Daily,” she joked with a sigh.

Suddenly, Demelza spat out a mouthful of Ross’ port onto the grass; he looked at her, appalled at the waste of liquor. “Is- is that Sam?” Demelza stuttered, squinting her gaze from where she sat and nearly falling off Ross’ lap in shock. “Dancin’?”

The small group looked in front of them and were met by the sight of the bride and groom twirling together; Sam looked a little like a newborn deer uncertain of its steps but judging from the smile on Rosina’s face, she did not mind at all.

Ross smirked. “It seems some things after worth sinning for,” he murmured, the overindulgence of gin making him unusually sentimental. He looked at Demelza in such a way to suggest that the initial sin of their out-of-wedlock coupling and its subsequent result would be worth an eternity in hell.

“Or Rosina is a witch,” Caroline offered in a jest. She then covered Dwight’s eyes with her hand. “Avert your eyes, Dr Enys, lest you fall under her spell again.”

Dwight, Demelza and Ross’ laughter echoed and floated into the crisp air.

“We must dance soon - when they begin the Corwedhan,” Demelza insisted.

Murmurs of agreement rang out; for now, they were all content to wait their turn dancing, simply enjoying being in one another’s company with little cares and fewer worries.

A few hay bails away, Drake breathed in the smell of the damp grass and the spicy ferns, their fragrance heightened by the earlier light rain shower. The fires - dispersed like hen feed across the large field - crackled softly in a warm, enticing glow. Drake drank in the sight of everyone’s happiness; it seemed to outweigh the oxygen in the air. It was as though they all, in this moment, existed in a bubble, one which was tinted rose and gold with love and contentment. Drake prayed it would never burst.

“What are you smiling at?” Morwenna asked her husband, a small smile on her elvish features as she looked at him. In her arms was a small bundle of blankets within which two-month-old Loveday Carne could be found sleeping soundly.

Coming out of his trance, Drake turned and looked at them both with adoring eyes and his smile grew wider. “Just life, my love,” he murmured.

“What about it?”

Looking about him, Drake sighed in contentment. “You and I,” he began dreamily, “and Miss Loveday ‘ere,” he bent down and softly kissed his daughter’s hand, “Brother and Rosina,” Drake motioned over to the two dancing and laughing newlyweds, “Sister and Cap’n Ross,” he murmured as Ross placed an enthusiastic, drunken kiss on Demelza’s cheek, “Dr and Mrs Enys,” Caroline’s arms were about Dwight’s neck and her eyes were closed as her head rested on his shoulder, “And all who be ‘ere,” he concluded with a happy sigh.

“Oh, Drake, I so admire your love of life,” Morwenna told him, her tone adoring and sincere. It was Drake and his unfailing patience, kindness and optimism which had pulled her from the shadows and into the light.

Drake grinned and leaned over to kiss her, his hand tucking a rouge strand of hair behind her ear. “Life always be worth livin’ so long as we ‘ave somebody to love, Wenna. And there be a lot of love here.”

#poldark #poldark fanfic #carolight #romelza #drawenna

61 notes · View notes

coffee-obsessed-writer · 5 years

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When You Least Expect It: Part One

Jensen x Reader, Jared Padalecki, Leo Caprini (OMC) platonic

A/N: This is a slow burn fic that I have been working on for a while. Its a story I wrote for myself and just wanted to share with everyone. Yes, the “Dee” in the story is who you think, but there is no intended hate on her or their actual marriage. It is a work of fiction, that is all.

Part one is from Jensen’s POV. There is also a playlist to go along with the series. Some are just songs I imagined playing or being played as the story took shape in my imagination, or they are songs actually being used in the series. I will link them when that’s the case. Hope you enjoy it! xo

Series Summary: After a hard breakup, Jensen decides to throw himself into organizing a Music Festival in Austin that is meant to raise money for a few of his most cherished charities and organizations. As he throws himself into planning it, he stumbles upon a spirited, undiscovered performer, who he convinces to come aboard to help plan and coordinate the event with him.

What transpires after that takes both Jensen and his new friend, by surprise. But when their respective pasts come back just before the event kicks off in Austin, they will both have to decide if the unexpected feelings are worth perusing, or if they should just walk away and go on with their lives.

Series Warnings: Language, Break-Ups, Angst, Fluff, Smut (that’s it for now)

Series Playlist: “When You Least Expect It” (Spotify) [Youtube Playlist Coming Soon]

*Banner created by me; pics & gifs found online

“You sure you feel up to this? We can just hang out at the hotel if you want.”

“No,” Jensen said. “I need to get out, get fresh air. I need to breathe. Have I ever mentioned how much I HATE board meetings? It’s why I’m not an office guy. I would suck at it. What happened to let’s meet at a restaurant, have a meal, a drink and just talk stuff out?”

“Alright man, whatever you want,” Jared agreed and took a few tentative steps to cross the street. “But, remember, you were the one that wanted this all to happen ASAP. The guy is on vacation with his family and putting aside time for us. If he wants to set up in his hotel conference room…” Jared trailed off and shrugged before making his way across the street.

Jensen waved him off and followed in his friend’s footsteps and as they made their way up onto the boardwalk, they were both relatively relieved with how deserted it was. October at the Jersey shore wasn’t exactly ‘in season’ but it was a nice enough night that they could have encountered a lot more people.

“This is good,” Jensen smiled, as they strolled down the boardwalk. He inhaled a deep breath of the salty air and exhaled slowly. “I get that. But it's important to get this stuff finalized before I go back to Austin and start making firm plans. ‘Cause before you know it, it’s back to Vancouver. Doesn’t leave much time to get things in motion.”

“Could always push the festival back a year,” Jared suggested, knowing Jensen would never agree. He was like a dog with a bone where this festival was concerned. Once the idea to host a three-day event in Austin came about, Jensen was bound and determined to make it happen, all in a year’s time.

“No, its gotta be next year,” he said, gesturing with his hands that was his final decision. “It's fine. I’m better now that I’m out of that conference room. It was like a million degrees in there. This, this was a good idea. Maybe we find a small bar, grab a beer, some grub. Just relax a bit.”

“Until your phone rings,” Jared said unintentionally sharp.

“Come on, Jar. I don’t wanna—” he sighed and stopped walking. “It's over, alright. She left and honestly it sucked.”

“And the festival is your way to distract yourself from that.”

Jensen gave him a reprimanding look but couldn’t deny his claim.

“It was six months ago, and yeah, it took me a while to get over it. But it wasn’t like we were married, and she wanted something else. I’m done waiting for her, okay? I get it now, she’s not coming back. So, you can stop worrying. And yeah, maybe the festival is my way of moving on. Work is work, and while it keeps me busy enough, I want to do something more. Organizing this thing through the brewery, it’s gonna be great. It's going to help a ton of people and bring some recognition to a few great charitable organizations.”

Jared walked by his side quietly, listening and waiting for Jensen to stop rambling. When he did, he asked a simple question completely throwing Jensen for a loop.

“That all sounds great. It really does, and your intentions are on point, Jay. But… what happens when it’s over?””

He hemmed and hawed over an answer, sputtering and stuttering before just giving up and shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine?”

“Perfectly. Fine.” He nodded as confirmation. “In fact, so fine, I won’t even remember whats-her-name because I’ll be swimming in fine.” His tone oozed sarcasm, only to be made more punctuated by his expression.

“Jensen…” Jared sighed. “Just stop. It's fine, I get it. I’ll back off. Let’s go get that beer and whatever.”

He shoved his hands in his pocket as the autumn wind kicked up his hair as it rolled in off the ocean. He started to look around at the different booths, only a few of which were open and functioning that time of year. A little further down the boardwalk, Jared spotted a place that could be just what they needed.

“Come on, let’s check out this place,” he motioned his head towards a bar/restaurant called The Beachcomber. Jensen shrugged in agreement as they headed towards the building.

Walking through the front doors, they were met by a quick blast of warm air from above. There was a smattering of tables with patrons, but mostly they were empty. They made their way towards the back of the bar, where there were tables open that overlooked the ocean. Claiming one, they sat down and grabbed a menu to peruse. Not too long after, a waitress came by and took their orders. If she had recognized them, she didn’t mention it and went about her business as usual.

“I don’t want to keep bringing it up,” Jared started, after the waitress came back with their drinks.

Jensen sipped his beer. “So, don’t.”

“I just—I thought you were going to propose? You told me you wanted too. She left because you couldn’t make the commitment, Jay. Why didn’t you go through with it?”

Jensen just shrugged and looked out over the ocean to think before answering Jared’s question. “I don’t know… at the last minute, I just couldn’t do it. The idea of settling down with one person is terrifying, man. It may suit you and Gen, but I don’t know if it’s for me.”

“It’s not like you’re some playboy. You are monogamous as hell. So, what was it really?”

“Maybe I just couldn’t see my future with her. You know, settling down, kids, the whole nine.”

Jared nodded slowly, finally understanding. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Because that makes me sound like a dick.”

“You are a dick,” Jared teased and threw a piece of the napkin at his friend.

Jensen mocked him with a fake laugh and went back to his beer. “Yeah, yeah… moving on. Let’s talk about the important shit. I want tomorrow to go as smoothly as possible so we aren’t sitting in the pits-of-Hell conference room, so will you have a chance to look through all the contracts?”

Jared nodded and sighed. “Mhm. But really Jay, that shit needs to just go to the lawyer. I know you want everything to be perfect, to go smoothly. And I have no doubt that it will… but can’t we just concentrate on the creative stuff? Gen and I got a lot of the marketing taken care of. You and Jason, Robbie too, right? Y’all got the music covered. The festival will go off without a hitch and Random Acts will take in a bunch of money, as will the Austin Y and the crisis hotline.”

“Yeah, music is coming along. I just don’t have anyone that fits the vibe, you know?”

“No, I don’t. What vibe is that?”

Jensen shrugged. “I don’t know… this I guess,” he motioned towards the beach and the boardwalk, “I wanna bring this to the Brewfest.”

“Why? I mean, it's great here, but what makes it so special?”

“Can’t put my finger on it. Have you ever been here in the summertime? Dude, it's amazing. Just the whole vibe of the place…”

“That’s why you’re so intent on having these meetings with Leo. You want him to bring the boardwalk to Austin.”

Jensen shrugged again and nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, alright. I will help you make that happen then. Tomorrow, we’ll just have to convince him.”

“Well, lookit you. Being all motivational and shit.”

“Rah Rah!” Jared teased and shaking his hands like pom poms.

“How are we friends?” he asked and shook his head with a sarcastic eye roll included.

“You’d be lost without me and you know it,” Jared mocked and raised his glass in salute. Jensen nodded in reluctance agreement and clinked his glass against Jared’s.

The food was dropped not too long after that, and they enjoyed their seaside dinner as the sun set behind the houses to the west. About an hour after they arrived, dinner and drinks were finished, and they debated on staying or going back to the hotel. Deciding to stay for one more round, they settled in and kept an eye on Game Six of the World Series happening on the TVs above the bar.

Somewhere around the fifth inning, the volume got turned down, and the customer’s attention was asked to look towards the small corner stage. Behind the riser, was the backdrop of the Atlantic Ocean and a smattering of small boat lights on the horizon. Though the sun had just set a little while ago, the moon was already nearly full, hanging low in the night sky.

Jared was intent on the game playing out over the bar, even though there was no sound now. Jensen sipped at the rest of his beer and decided to keep his eyes on the stage. An older man, maybe in his mid-60s, welcomed the crowd and thanked them for patronizing The Beachcomber. His thick New York accent made Jensen smile, especially once he took in the man’s overall appearance of his slicked-back salt and pepper hair, white tee shirt and black leather coat.

Right out of the damn Sopranos, he thought and chuckled to himself.

He watched the stage, eager to see some Sinatra wannabe come out and try to charm the crowd. But when the girl with the guitar came out instead, he sat up a little straighter in his chair and glanced over at his best friend to see if he was paying attention.

He wasn’t.

Jensen couldn’t take his eyes off her, not solely because she was beautiful; which she was… stunningly so. Her beauty wasn’t what made him sit up and take notice. It was the way she held her guitar; gripping it as if it were her lifeline. He observed her closely, surprised that she seemed nervous. When she strummed the guitar and brought the melody to life her nerves faded away; she was suddenly confident and assured. Her voice carried on and as the lyrics of “Dust in the Wind” filled up the back end of the Beachcomber Restaurant, Jensen found himself immersed in the moment.

He went to the bar that night in search of a hot meal and cold beer. Jensen didn’t expect to find a solution to some, or even all, of his problems. But the longer he sat and watched her perform, he started to feel that maybe everything will work out for him after all.

She played through a short set and it was clear the other people in the bar couldn’t care less about the magic he was witnessing. At one point, Jensen looked around and was shocked how little people were paying attention. How did they not hear her voice, feel her words, or get touched by her vulnerability? He was more in shock about that, then the girl herself. Yet, the more she played, the more he was drawn in and attentive to every note, every word, every second.

By the end of the last song, she gave a slight bow and turned to scurry off stage. Jensen clapped eagerly for her, as the last few remaining patrons gave her a half-hearted attempt at applause. He was floored that he was the only one who took notice of her and turned to say as much to Jared, who was on his phone nodding emphatically.

“Yeah, got it. Ten tomorrow morning. Yup, thanks, see you then,” he said into the receiver then ended the call and tucked it away before looking up at Jensen. “You ready to go?”

“No, I… did you hear any of that?”

“Hear what?”

Jensen ran a frustrated hand over his stubbled face. “The girl, the music… did you hear it or did I just imagine that whole thing happening?”

“Oh, I heard it. It was good. I was just sort of engrossed in the game. Anyway, we should go. It’s getting late and Leo’s attorney said he wanted to reconvene by ten.”

“Can you just give me a minute? I want to see if I can catch—” just as he was standing up from the table and surveying the bar, he caught a glimpse of the guitar girl heading out of the doors and sprinting out into the night seaside air. He slumped back into his seat and sighed. “Nevermind… let’s go. I guess I can come back tomorrow night and see if she’s tending bar,” he mumbled more to himself than to Jared.

When Jensen looked back up and saw the way his best friend was looking at him, he shrugged and wrinkled his nose as if he was being chastised for something.

“What?”

“Dude, stalk much? Besides, we have a two o’clock flight out of Atlantic City. Bob is expecting us back to set Sunday morning.”

Jensen groaned. “Shit, I forgot. Alright, well, it’s the modern age, I can use a phone and try to get in touch with her—”

“Jay… chill. She’s just a girl, sure, she’s cute but, what is the big deal?”

Jensen opened his mouth to explain and suddenly felt stupid. She was just a girl; a girl that had a voice that could calm the Kraken, and a mastery of a guitar that could rival most of the greats. Even just hearing a few songs, he knew she was that good; but she was just a girl.

“I’m not taking away her talent, but unless you’re sweet on her or something—”

“No, it’s not that,” Jensen started, but then opted to change the subject and waved it off. “You’re right, no big deal. It’s late and we should get some shut eye before tomorrow. If we’re lucky we can settle all this with Leo, have the contracts in place for the festival and be back home in less than twenty-four hours.”

Jared nodded and felt a bit of his concern wash away. “Ok, good. Just stay focused on the work in front of us and we may actually pull this off.”

Later that night, as Jensen stretched out in his hotel’s king-sized bed, his eyes finally drifted closed and her face was there with him. It was partially hidden in the shadows of a stage, only hints of her features could be seen through the fogginess of the room and the singular light shining down upon her. But it was her. She was humming a tune, something familiar but in his unconscious state was unable to identify what it was. Unbeknownst to him, he began to hum along in his sleep, and a smile touched his lips.

In his dream, she smiled too and reached out a hand towards him. His dream self hesitated but then slowly walked around to the climb the stairs that would take him to her. Just as he joined her, she was gone, but he could still hear her voice humming the familiar melody. From the stage, he looked out and saw the crowd of one. She was there, her face still shrouded in a gradient of darkness, but her voice was clear and comforting. A sudden hit of a snare drum made him look away, and when he looked back at her, she was gone leaving a swirl of grey smoke in her wake.

Another hit of the snare drum pulled him out of the bar, and yet another out of his REM sleep. The alarm pinging on the table beside the bed continued yanking him from a dream he would later come to realize was way more profound than he thought. As he sat up, fully awake now and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sighed as the last few vivid images of the dream dwindled away, leaving only the melody firmly stuck in his mind.

The next morning’s meeting went off without a hitch. After Jared and Jensen met with Leo Caprini and his lawyer, they had a catered breakfast and stood around chatting for a while. Jensen expressed an interest to see more of the town if not for their flight out that afternoon. As if fate heard him and stepped in to correct it, both his and Jared’s phones went off simultaneously. Jensen kept chatting up Leo as Jared excused himself to check the text message that came through from the show’s EP.

No rush back. Set is closed for another three days. Will call with details later.

When Jared returned, Leo and his lawyer were in a sidebar. He held up his phone so Jensen could read the message.

“You get one too?”

Jensen nodded. “Yeah. Wonder what the hell is going on?”

“I’m going to give him a ring on the way back to the motel. But three more days? Shit. I might as well go home for that. Gen and the kids just got back from her folks’ place last night. Could do with a few days home before we get back at it.”

“Then you should. We’re all done here if you want to head back and pack up, get a new flight and all that.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Jared said, with obvious signs of relief washed over him. “You coming?”

Jensen considered it for a moment. “Nah, I think I might just hang here. If I’m gonna do this, might as well do it right.”

“Sure you’re not just gonna get a pizza, pint of ice cream and sit in the room pining all night?”

Jensen drew in a deep breath and tried not to murder his best friend with his glare. “Positive.”

Jared wasn’t wrong though; despite Jensen’s consistent protest he was over it, he was not, in fact, over it. He did miss Dee and would find himself wishing she could come back. But then he would remember that he couldn’t commit, though he did often question the reasons for it. Was it because she really just wasn’t the one? Or was it because he knew she was getting complacent with him and someone else had caught her eye. He wasn’t perfect in their relationship, and he had certainly gone through the laundry list of his shortcomings. The feelings just felt uncertain where Dee was concerned but the distraction of the festival was to combat constantly living in that state of ‘What the fuck am I doing with my life?’. He just prayed that it actually worked.

Jared held his hands up in relent. “Alright, sorry. I’ll stop. I know what you said, you’re done waiting. And that’s good. But, I also know you can get mopey about it when no ones around.”

“True, however… I am moving on. All in to the festival and that’s it. No dating, no relationship bullshit. Just diving head first into trying to pull this off.”

Jared shook his head and chuckled. “Man, I still don’t get what you plan on doing with all this. I mean, I read the contracts, I sat in the meetings, but I guess I just can’t envision it all yet.”

“What’s the hangup?”

“I don’t know… Austin is pretty great as it is. Why bring in other flavors when you have the ultimate chocolate already? You know?”

Jensen busted out laughing and slapped his best friend on the shoulder. “That’s one way to put it. Honestly, it’s the vibe of the place. Dee and I came here years ago, and this boardwalk was hoppin’. Families, first dates, best friends… arcades, rides, food… the food alone is worth it. Yeah, Austin is fucking great, but I want this festival to be the biggest thing to ever happen there. I want people to come from all over to see how special Austin is--”

“And I get that, so why bring a New Jersey boardwalk vibe to Au--”

“Because, son, ain’t nothing else like it anywhere in the world,” Leo interrupted as he rejoined their conversations, giving the much taller man a hearty slap on his shoulder. “You Texas boys sure do got a gorgeous bit of country down there, no one is disputing that. But this here,” he turned and made a sweeping gesture towards the boardwalk ocean that lived across the street, “this is somethin’ special.”

“No argument there,” Jared mused and gave the man a curt smile. “Well, if we are gonna be changing flights, we should get back--”

“Actually, since there’s been a change of plans, I think I might stay here, spend an extra day or two getting to know the area, brainstorm on the festival a while…” Jensen shrugged trying to stay indifferent, but felt a ripple of excitement at the thought.

They had a silent exchange, which Leo watched in amusement. “You boys are somethin’ else!” he chuckled wildly as he proceeded to pull his cell from his pocket. “Since you’re sticking around, Jensen, let me call my assistant and tell her you’ll be comin’ round. I’ll have her give you a tour of some of the must-see places, get a feel for what parts of our little utopia here you wanna cart on down to Texas. Sound good?”

“Sounds, amazing,” he said as the three men moved towards the elevator bank. “Just what I was hoping for.”

An hour later, Jensen was strolling into the hotel bar and scanning the near empty room. Leo had mentioned that his assistant would be there waiting to take him on the promised tour of the boardwalk and businesses Leo maintained there. However, all he could find were two older couples having an early bird dinner, an awkward first date going down at the bar, and a lone woman in a booth pouring over paperwork.

Jensen shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly began to circle the room, hoping that the mystery assistant would reveal herself. As he rounded the corner, he looked up and noticed the woman in the booth. She had finally picked her head up from staring at the papers strewn on the table in front of her, stopping Jensen in his tracks.

It was guitar girl, the singer from the bar he saw the night before. His feet felt frozen to the ground. When he got himself moving again, he walked towards her with no idea what he would say, just that he needed to say something to her. Tentatively, he approached her table, unaware of the large, goofy grin he was unintentionally wearing.

“Hey, hi! How are you? I’m, uh--I saw you at--Uh, what was the name of the place....” Jensen stammered until he saw her confused expression.

Seeing her close up, he realized how many of her striking features he’d missed in the darkened atmosphere of the bar. He took a moment to appreciate just how beautiful she really was, before continuing with his awkward greeting.

“Oh man, uh, let me start over. Hi, I’m Jensen. I saw you sing at a bar last night, and--” he stretched out his hand then to shake hers, and inadvertently struck her glass of iced tea, causing it to splatter all over the papers that were spread out across the table.

He watched, in horrific slow motion as the mixture of liquid and ice made a rapid path across the table, soaking and smearing the ink of the pages. Jensen glanced up at the woman as her face contorted from confused to panicked, to disbelief.

“Oh… shit! I’m--I’m sorry… here, let me get that--”

Jensen lunged for the napkins and began to pat the papers dry, as the women stood and did the same. A waitress scurried over with more napkins upon seeing the mishap and Jensen took them gratefully, trying to save as many of the documents as he could.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said, again, finally causing the woman to sigh and slid out from the booth.

Seeing that some of the tea landed on her pants, Jensen felt his face flush with embarrassment. He went to apologize again and she stopped him by holding up a hand.

“Don’t. Just… don’t. Its fine,” she said flatly, and wiped at the growing wet patch on her pants. She looked up, but avoided his apologetic gaze and called for the server. “Hey Marci, can I get a handful more napkins, please, hun?”

“Sure thing!” she called back and disappeared behind the bar.

“So, what was it you wanted?” she asked Jensen, finally taking a moment and looking him straight in the eye.

He stuttered to a smile and shrugged. “I just wanted to say I was a fan--”

“I see you two found each other!” Leo’s voice bellowed through the bar.

Jensen turned, surprised to hear him, and then quickly turned back to the woman to see her expression to be just as confused as his was.

“Well, damn, (Y/N), leave you alone for an hour and you’re already a mess!” his wild cackle made all the heads in the barn turn to stare.

“Actually, Leo, this is my fault. I spilled the iced tea, and--” Jensen stammered before getting interrupted.

Leo waved Jensen off. “No worries, son. I’m sure she understands, dontcha, sweetie?”

“Sweetie?” he couldn’t help mimic Leo’s word sarcastically. A thousand thoughts flew through his head about the nature of their relationship until Leo laughed and shook his head.

“No, no… she’s my niece! She’s a damn good assistant, too! I suppose I should make some formal introductions. Jensen, this is my niece, (Y/N) she operates as my assistant, a bartender, a coin clerk and a sometimes rock star, ain’t that right?!”

(Y/N) smirked, and nodded to appease her uncle. Despite their initial encounter, she reached out her hand to Jensen to shake it. “Nice to meet you,” she said and quickly withdrew her hand.

“This is the fine gent I texted you about.”

“Oh,” she replied and looked back at Jensen. “Well, small world, huh.”

“Yeah, I’d say,” he said with a snort, accompanied by a goofy kind of grin, but instantly regretted it. He thought that (Y/N) seemed unimpressed and, maybe even mildly put out by the entire sequence of events.

“Well, anyways, will you be able to take him around today? I have a bunch of appointments I need to keep, or I’d take him myself.”

“Sure,” she replied. “Where do you want me to take him?”

“Shit, (Y/N), you’d know better than me. This is your town, sweetie. Go on and paint it red with the boy!”

“Uncle Leo…” she chastised and shook her head. Turning to Jensen, she again gave her best professional smile. “I just need to go change, but I only live a mile away. I’ll run home, meet you back here in about thirty minutes.”

Jensen nodded as casually as he could, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Then my work here is done! Come on, (Y/N), I’ll walk you out. Jensen, my boy, you’ll be in good hands with this one. Any questions you have, any input you need, (Y/N) here is the girl to give it to ya! No one knows Seaside better than she does.”

“I’ll be back shortly,” (Y/N) said as she gathered up the still soaking wet papers and as delicately as she could, piled them with the envelope and slapped them with a thwamp against Jensen’s chest. “These were your contracts, by the way. Hope you don’t mind waiting for new copies.” She shrugged, her eyes ablaze with satisfaction.

(Y/N) was fierce, he could tell that right away. As he watched her leave, Leo must have said something that she found funny, because she threw her head back with a laugh. He couldn’t hear her, but wondered what it sounded like. As he waited at the bar for her to return, there were a lot of things he wondered about where guitar girl was concerned. Mostly, the tenor of her voice and the way she played stuck with him and how it felt so in contrast with the steely-eyed, guarded woman that he had just met. Jensen was more than just intrigued by her; he was curious to know how many more layers there was to this woman, to his guitar girl.

Just before she reappeared, dressed in a Ozzy T-Shirt and ripped jeans with a pair of brown suede sandals, it was then Jensen realized it was the longest he’d gone without one thought of Dee crossing his mind.

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#Jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles rpf #jensen x you #jensen x reader insert

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kdlovehg · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2 - Twelve times the season - a festive everlark fic.

Oh look, I’ve finished another chapter. Enjoy. XO

Click for links to chapter 1 and summary - tumblr

Fanfiction

AO3

*****************************************

Chapter 2

First thing the next morning, Peeta received his first envelope from the letter carrier. After finishing his draft the night before, Peeta had made sure to write the post in his best handwriting and had then faxed it over to the head office, eager for them to have it published in time for the next morning. Now Peeta wasn't a fool, he'd made sure to add a footnote so that the publishers were aware of the situation and thus wouldn't put a copy of his column in any of the papers in his apartment building, except for his. Unfair? Perhaps. But it was better than risking Katniss nicking someone's paper and seeing it. This simply avoided the problem altogether.

He tore open the envelope and pulled out a single scoresheet. Now as this was a sponsorship, the company had made sure that there would be a way to track the number of papers being read from page one until the final word in the column. One common way was to check for any fingerprints on discarded papers, that way they'd know if the reader had flicked through the pages or not. They would also send out workers to see if people had chosen not to grab their paper at all as this was all important information in finding out how many people were reading it.

Two, was written in bold in the centre of the paper. Fifty views. No recommendations as of yet.

It wasn't the best start, because no recommendations meant that nobody in the town or wider part of Panem was talking about it but it was fine. He'd only just started. He turned over the page to see a few comments printed on the back, all of which must have been submitted back to the head office.

Mockygirl: Good luck! Can't wait to see where this goes.

Atrinketonthetree: Fabulous idea! Spread that cheer all through the year.

Unfortunately the last comment wasn't as promising as the first ones.

SwiftG: Just leave it. A Grinch ain't gonna change for you so don't bother.

Despite what the third reader had suggested, Peeta had already planned his first move to woo the little Grinch into the festive spirit. He washed, dressed and left just early enough to grab both Katniss' and his newspapers.

Once he'd collected them, he rode the elevator back up to their floor, checking the time as he went. She hadn't left yet so his plan should be perfect. He knocked on her door and listened for her voice, yet he was only greeted by a loud bark.

After waiting for a few moments he knocked again only to receive a muffled "What?".

"Its your neighbour" Peeta said, doing his best to sound perky. "Mellark. Peeta Mellark".

Silence.

Realising that he wasn't going away Katniss replied "Am I supposed to care?".

Peeta ignored her comment. "I brought gifts". That would work. It always did with the children, besides who didn't love free stuff.

"Don't need em".

"Should I leave it against your door?".

A pause.

"Leave what?".

Gotcha.

"Its a surprise. Don't you like surprises? I sure do. Puts you in a great mood for the day".

The door flew open and she stood in front of him, her skirt failing to conceal a layer of shaving cream that was painted across her leg. Katniss held the razor in her hand tightly as if it were a weapon she might strike him with. Her other arm was holding onto doorframe, creating a blockage for Mutty so that he couldn't escape. Regardless the dog peered over as if he too were curious about the surprise.

The familiar scowl settled back on her face. "I hate surprises".

"Here's your paper", he said, thrusting it towards her.

She grabbed it and tossed it over her shoulder, someone managing to make it land on her table. The accuracy was honestly quite impressive.

"You're welcome", he added, both of them knowing that she didn't appreciate the help. Before she could start mumbling under her breath he turned around and left with a "Have a good morning!".

"Whatever".

"You say that a lot don't you Everdeen?", he commented with a grin. For someone who he assumed was smart, she wasn't very creative with her responses.

"Do you mind? I'd like to finish what I started". Peeta tries not to think about her getting out of the shower when he knocked. Imagine if he made her open the door in a towel. Just for a paper she could've gotten herself. Goodness. It'd be hard to talk his way out of that.

"Go for it", he added, refusing to turn around. Granted it was a little rude but if she could do it then so could he. His nice deed had been done so he didn't owe her anything.

At least she hadn't slammed the door on him.

There was progress at least.

He returned to his room and waited for the familiar sound of her opening and closing her door as she left for work. Then seconds later he left to accompany her at the elevator.

Couldn't break tradition.

"What a coincidence", he lied as they entered and she pressed the button for the bottom floor. Katniss glared at him, clearly not believing a word he said.

He glanced over, seeing the familiar paper tucked under her arm. Perfect. Unintentionally, his gaze dropped back to her legs to see a small piece of paper peeking out from beneath her skirt.

She must have cut herself. Odd. Katniss didn't seem like the type to be distracted easily, but mistakes happen, he supposed.

"I hope that wasn't my fault" Peeta said, gesturing towards the injury.

Katniss huffed and tugged her skirt lower slightly so that he could no longer see it. "Course not".

It totally was.

She'd never admit it though.

"The little cuts are the worst kind".

She shrugged, avoiding conversation, but he heard the quiet "So are happy neighbours".

Well she thought he was the worst kind of neighbour? Perfect. The feeling was mutual.

"Forgive me, I was just trying to be helpful. Next time I'll knock and leave it at your door for when you leave".

"Don't".

"Don't what? Its too big to slide under your door".

"Don't be helpful" she insisted. Katniss didn't need anybody's help. The only thing she needed was for this elevator to hurry up. His voice was getting on her nerves.

"Its really not any trouble".

"I said don't".

"Alright", Peeta said, backing off. "If that's what you want".

"That's what I want" she said, finishing the conversation. Gosh he was annoying.

As soon as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, Katniss flew out of there, eager to get away from her neighbour. Peeta found it amusing to say the least. He'd never made someone run from him before.

"Enjoy your day", he called out after her, if only to wind her up more.

Finnick was right. Being nice wasn't half bad. It was the most entertainment he'd got in weeks.

As a treat, Peeta decided he'd go to a local store, 'The Hob', as it was the closest place to get produce. Inside it they also had a small counter of freshly baked goods, mainly breakfast items, and hot drinks which likely earned them all of their customers. As luck would have it, he noticed that Everdeen was four people ahead of him. Odd since he'd never seen her in the store before.

Despite knowing that he shouldn't, Peeta shouted out to her, his voice quickly getting the attention of the other patrons. "Katniss I didn't know you came here! You should of told me, I could've came earlier to grab you something".

Katniss tensed up, swallowing back a curse at the familiar voice. Of course she couldn't escape him. She knew she should've went straight to work. She just can't catch a break.

Sae, Peeta's favourite barista and the owner of the store, gave him a toothless grin. "Morning Peeta".

"And a good morning to you, lovely", he said with his typical charm. He gestured towards Katniss. "She's my neighbour. I'd like to buy her a hot chocolate".

Everdeen spins around, hand on hip and leans to the side so that she can see around the other people in line. "No. I can buy my own hot chocolate - and cheese buns", she added. "I'm very capable". She didn't want his money. She didn't want his help. Gosh she hoped he'd miss his train so that his day could be as annoying as hers .

"Consider it an apology", Peeta explained as Sae bagged the fresh, gooey buns. She handed it to Katniss along with her drink and waited for the outcome. Peeta knew the older woman must be confused, why would anyone refuse an act of kindness?

"No", Katniss stated and slapped the money down on the counter, capturing Sae's attention.

"Well if you insist", Peeta said as the queue moved towards the counter, every other barista completing their order quickly and with a smile. "I really am sorry. I'll be quieter next time. You won't hear a single Christmas noise from me" he lied. Rather than acknowledge his insincere apology, Katniss grabbed her goods and left the store, not even saying a goodbye to the woman who'd served her.

Peeta considered if Sae knew anything about the woman. Surely she's visited before, just at a different time perhaps? When it was his turn to order he asked, "That girl" and leaned slightly across the counter. He rubbed his face, playing up the curiosity as if the thought just happened to cross his mind. "She come here often?".

"Aw yeah all the time. She orders the same thing, never talks really but what can you do".

"I figured", he said politely. What did he expect? She was an older woman, hardly one to gossip. He asked for the usual hot chocolate and paid, and then gave Sae extra money with the memo that it was to pay for his neighbours order the following morning. "Tell her its from me". Katniss would have to accept his generosity one way or another.

"Well if you're sure boy. She seemed a bit mad about you trynna do it today though".

"She's like that. Talking ain't really her thing", he said as if he was actually friends with Everdeen. Sae handed him his coco.

"I noticed. I'll make sure to serve her tomorrow, just for you Peeta", she added with another grin. There's the community spirit he missed.

"Perfect. Thankyou Sae".

He turned to leave with his drink and added, "Just a shame I won't see her reaction".

Peeta hurried out the store and rushed to the platform, just in time as the train had already arrived. He slid through the doors as they closed and sipped his hot chocolate. What would Katniss do?

///////////////////////////////////

The man was driving Katniss crazy. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? He was obviously just doing it for the attention. No-one was that happy in general let alone in the morning, yet every day its the same smile that he greets everybody with. Katniss knew he was playing a game with her and she didn't like it one bit. So she decided she'd do what she did best - ignore him. Unfortunately he'd already managed to get her to talk on two separate occasions so far but that was a mistake. She knew better now. Walking quickly, Katniss headed towards the Justice building. Being late was never an option. She had bills to pay and a cut in her salary wouldn't help. Besides she had a schedule: work in the morning and then for lunch she would go home, grab a snack, get changed and take Mutty out. Then once the dog was all tired out - which seemed to be never the older that he got - she would quickly wash and change back into her work uniform. Then she'd leave just as he'd settle down for his nap. It wasn't always that way, but Haymitch's building didn't allow dogs so she had to take him in. The more she thought about it, the worse she felt. Katniss loved her Uncle - even though he was a pain - and she was grateful for all that he did in raising her. Luckily he seemed to adjust well to the new place, and by that she meant, she had yet to receive a complaint from the complex.

Even when she was young, Katniss knew she wasn't a people person. Her father had tried many times to help her make friends but she hated everything about it. She'd much rather sit alone in the woods and study the animals. That's why her job in agriculture suited her. She could spend time away from people as often as she wanted to. People were dangerous. Animals were smart. They knew to be careful with their trust and she'd been fooled before. She didn't even want to think of Gale's betrayal. No - it was over. Her mind had moved on.

"Morning Miss Everdeen!", the receptionist said in greeting. She was unusual as the place was known to be quite cold and workers were stoic, but Katniss didn't mind as the girl was never mad at a lack of a reply. On her counter sat a small Christmas tree with ribbons wrapped around it and trinkets hung from the branches. It did nothing for Katniss' mood but she supposed some of her colleagues might like seeing the sight.

With a nod in her direction, Katniss moved on. She didn't remember the young girl's name, or perhaps she hadn't bothered to ask. It didn't matter she supposed. The less familiar she was with people the better. She closed the door behind her, glad to be back in her office. Silent. Alone. Perfect. It gave her time to ponder her odd neighbour. He was a nice guy. That wasn't unusual, but why now was he trying so hard to get her attention? And why did she care?

////////////////////

After work, Peeta headed down to 'Monsieur Cornucopia', a building full of different clubs for young children, so that he could help them with their holiday program and then he travelled to the orphanage. He'd had a good day - better than yesterday at least. The shoppers seemed more patient and they sold out of a lot of fish. He liked to think that it was some type of good karma, for trying to be nice to Everdeen. Sure she rebuffed it, but these things take time.

The kids in the orphanage enjoyed the singing and loved the chance to sing to those in their community that were often forgotten; the elderly, the homeless, even some of the new mothers. The previous week they'd sung at the local hospital, for the new parents, most of whom were underage and thus looked down on. The children didn't judge them though. Maybe that's why he liked them so much. They were just jolly, none of them needed a reason for it, unlike some people.

This week the children were heading down to The Seam. The small living-complex located on the outskirts of twelve, didn't always sound like the ideal place to take children but they wouldn't mind it. He knew how excited they were. Some even hoped to see their old relatives, after being separated from them for good reason. They wouldn't understand that though. They didn't care.

By nine-thirty, Peeta made it back to the lobby, he was exhausted, but still in a good mood. He headed towards the lockers to check for any mail - if it was a special delivery letter then the carrier would take it straight to the room but anything else was just stored in the designated box. As he unlocked, the locker, he grabbed his mail and began flicking through the envelopes. Bills. Gas. Water. No Christmas cards yet but there was still a chance for those that could afford to send them, to do so this year. In his peripheral vision he caught sight of a familiar brunette. Everdeen. He wondered were she'd been as she was dressed in the same clothes that she would wear when taking her dog out but he was sure she must have done so already, and the little fella wasn't with her so she must have been somewhere else. The faint smell of sweat tickles his nose but he doesn't comment on it. She'd probably take it as an insult anyway. Although, he glanced her way, she did seem to be pretty athletic. That was a nice surprise. Not that he should be looking. It was her body, who cared what he thought of it. He looked away before she could catch him. Maybe she'd cuss him out, out loud this time. He didn't want that, it could ruin her mood for tomorrow and then she'd never appreciate his gift.

Katniss kept quiet. Of course she'd seen him, subtlety wasn't his forte, but she chose not to comment. She'd had enough interaction with him for one day. A week even. She just wanted to relax so she watched as he shut his locker closed. She checked her locker quickly, and seeing that it was empty, she closed it again and as had become the custom, the two of them rode the elevator together in blissful silence. Katniss made a point to stand in the corner so that she could have as much space away from him as possible. She needed time to breathe. There were too many people around at this time of year. Peeta chose not to acknowledge the distance between them and when they finally reached their floor, they separated and headed for their own apartment. For some odd reason, Peeta felt as if she was watching him - just staring at his back because he wouldn't see her. Rather than turn around he glanced over his shoulder at her to see the usual scowl on her face. Lovely.

Katniss couldn't figure out why he still hadn't spoken to her. She liked it obviously but it didn't seem right. Just hours ago he was bugging her and now he was content with silence?

Peeta forced a smile in her direction, "Have a good evening, Katniss".

"You don't look good".

His eyebrows jumped up. No way.

She spoke. Goodness had he broken her already?

"Its been a long day" he said, testing the waters. He wouldn't draw this conversation out, that was up to her.

Unfortunately for him, that answer seemed to satisfy her enough and she spun on her heel and disappeared into her apartment.

Accepting defeat, Peeta entered his own apartment and collapsed onto the chair. He wasn't making a lot of progress. But it was only day one. At least he knew there was promise there. Yet before he drifted off to sleep, he remembered that the day was over and thus it was time to start his second column entry. With a huff he hauled himself off of the chair and grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen. He wondered what the commenters would think of it this time.

Twelve times the season - Entry 2

December 15th

A letter and a lady

Operation Grinch to little elf is officially underway, ladies and gentlemen. Have I granted her a cheerful smile today? Oh yes. Did I give her the gift of a surprise? Why certainly! She just hasn't warmed up to the idea yet. Since seeing me this morning, I'm fairly certain she now wishes she'd succumbed to the festivity weeks ago but alas it is too late and thus my presence is here to help.

What wonderful thing did I do you ask? I woke up early - gave up a full ten minutes of sleep for this woman - and trekked downstairs to retrieve her newspaper so that the Lady wouldn't have to even spare a second to locate it. Not only that, but I offered to buy her breakfast. She refused of course, but at least I've set the tone for the next few days. And not only that twelve but I've bought her breakfast for tomorrow. How convenient is that? A lovely way to start her morning I'd say. I can't wait to here about how she reacts to that.

However something occurred once nightfall hit. A strange encounter one might say. I was merely collecting my mail in the lobby when she appeared. Odd but not unusual. Coincidences happen. From previous experience I knew how these encounters would go. If I were to strike up conversation, especially when she is at the end of her day, then I was sure to be ignored, and I didn't feel like finishing my night on a sour note. Now granted I know I'm not her favourite person, but I don't believe I'm the only one. It seems the one with the problem is her.

Now I like to believe that my newfound fascination with her is unsettling. How do I know? Well I changed tactics for a moment. I was tired and thus gave her the cold shoulder. And did she like that twelve? Oh no.

She cracked.

It was small. An ever so small dent in her façade as she asked me how I was. Were I not so exhausted I would have revelled in her words. Am I getting to her? Who knows. Its still early but I'm optimistic people.

I'll end it here for now until I can figure out a new way to... sweeten her up. In fact, I think I might have just found one.

#everlark #chapter 2 #twelve times the season #festivefic #myfics #kdlovehg #fanfiction #ao3 #christmasfic #links #thg

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baekhyuns-abs · 5 years

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Loveshot

(gif not mine credit to the owner)

Mafia AU, with Sehun.

Did I plan the title? No I didn’t but it fitted ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . Hope ya’ll enjoy this, (some of this is linked with Kyungsoo’s chapter but it’s not vital that you have to read it). Love the support for this series thank you, keep it up xo

Find the other Au’s here

Sexual content and death

She had walked up numerous flights of stairs, after parking the getaway car inconspicuously around the corner. She tutted at the sight of dead, bleeding bodies scattered around the stairwells. She made sure to step around the blood and the arms and legs that stuck out beneath their bodies as they had little to no time to prepare to die.

Sehun, albeit the youngest was the most malignant.

She reached the 20th floor, the floor they had figured out from weeks of planning had the best vantage point for their operation. The door was open and lying in the center was surprise, surprise another dead security detail. She knew people didn’t understand, maybe she was mentally ill but he turned her on so much when he killed. It was by far no sexual act and by far not the best but it never failed to steer them both into bed after a good day.

“Could you stop, I don’t know, murdering people for fun?”

Sehun looked over his shoulder from where he was crouched near his latest victim, careful not to step into the pool of expanding blood. He picked up the bullet shell just like he was taught and smirked at her as she came into the room.

“Set up by that window.” He gestured to the open, window directly in front of her.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, crossing her arms over her chest in a teasing manner. “Joonmyeon wouldn’t approve.”

Sehun stood up to his full height and didn’t miss the playfulness in her tone. “There’s a lot he wouldn’t approve of.”

She shook her head at him, crouching down under the smashed open window to set up her tripod. Sehun tucked his body just beside the window, careful not to be seen. He looked down at her, the forever present wicked look in his eyes making her feel some kind of way.

She ignored him as well as the tension in the air while she placed her rifle top of her steady tripod, aiming it down at the building next door. She closed her eye staring down into the binocular, counting the apartment windows till she was at the right one.

“You see anything?” Sehun asked after a minute.

She held her body steady in her crouch and side eyed him as he moved to crouch next to her. She adjusted herself onto her knees as she tried to find her target.

“Give me a chance.”

“We only have 10 minutes.” Sehun pressed.

“Do you doubt me?”

“No. But I’m sure he’ll be wondering why they haven’t heard off the security in this buildi--”

“I have her.”

She narrowed her eyes focusing on the pretty female at the poolside. She blinked and took a breath, her finger tensing on the trigger. Sehun held his breath, watching her carefully as she did that pout with her lips subconsciously as she concentrated. She clocked all of the men at the pool too, the ones that were guards, trying to fit in and blend but she had been trained to spot them through the largest of crowds.

“There’s 6 men.”

“Are we taking them out?” Sehun asked, almost too excited.

“You’re disgusting.” She muttered, her gun following the girl in her bikini till she was almost still.

Sehun ran his tongue across his lips and she didn’t mistake his lingering touch on her lower back as he ran his hand over her hip. She gave him a look out of the corner of her eye and he didn’t move it away.

“Why are you in a dress?” He asked. “When you’re like this you can almost see--”

She pulled the trigger and Sehun shot up from his position, suddenly serious. The sound was deafening - sniper rifles always were the loudest - and their ears rung from the pitch but they loved the sound of a gun shot. She carried on looking through the binocular and saw that as always didn’t miss. The female target was on the ground, her security details scrambling to see the assassin.

She smiled, completely sinister. Sehun peaked over the ledge and the disorder that began to unfold below them was satisfying. The target was motionless on the floor, a blur of blood beginning to map her body.

“Let’s go.”

She pushed her tripod back together, shoving that and her gun in her bag. Sehun instinctively grabbed her hand, pulling them both from the building, skillfully avoiding tripping over the other casualties. They left nothing behind, only the gleaming sniper shell that lay purposefully under that very window - let them know who done it.

As they left the gritty unkempt apartment building Sehun was smiling a malevolent look in his eyes. They sped down the street being sure to look over their shoulders with every step they took. The rundown garage at the end of the road was where she had the car and she lead Sehun to it quickly, keeping tight hold of her lover.

The garage was empty, abandoned and it provided them with seclusion from the road. Reaching the white sedan she let go of hand to jump into drivers side only have the wind knocked out of her as he maneuvered her body from behind, shoving her back into the hood of the car.

Stealing her breath he kissed her. It was aggressive, it was voracious and let him rule her mouth as his fingers tangled in her hair at the back of her hair. His hips held her to the bonnet of the car and her body yearned and flamed as he ground his hardening bulge against her. He only stopped to take a step back to slip his hand between their bodies, his fingers expertly sliding up her dress to find exactly what he wanted - her wet and needy.

Her knees buckled and Sehun pushed her legs open with his feet holding them apart as he began his onslaught on her. He found her clit in an instant, rubbing it unforgivingly with his middle finger. She broke the kiss to let out a wanton moan, her eyes finding his sinful eyes looking down at her with intent. A fire lit in her belly as his fingers slipped inside of her wet hole with an obscene sound that made Sehun cocky.

He kissed her quiet as he curled his unforgiving fingers inside of her and she feared she’d fall if it weren’t for his lithe body keeping her still and under his complete sexual mercy.

“Sehun..!” Her voice was a squeak, a small pathetic whimper as his fingers pumped in and out of her in the way he knew drove her crazy.

Her legs trembled, her mind melted and she would have screamed if it wasn’t for him keeping her silent with his mouth. With all the strength and willpower she could muster with the heat increasing between her thighs she balled his shirt in her fists pushing him away, his lips puckered and wet. Her legs felt like jelly but she willed herself to stand straight as she felt the trickling of her orgasm going down her legs.

“Get in the car.” She panted, her eyes hooded as she smoothed her hand down his crotch as an incentive.

They got into the back of the car, their hearts in their throats and in a blink there was no space between them.

In a frenzy of heat and desire she was straddling his thighs. The small cardi she was wearing being peeled off her arms as Sehun hands clawed down her back to palm at her ass. His mouth was hot on her neck as the taste of him on her tongue lingered; dangerously sweet. She needed to feel his skin on hers, the warmth and friction. She peeled off his plain black shirt, her fingers then running down his chest as he tugged her dress unceremoniously up her body.

His tongue licked down to her cleavage and with skillful fingers her bra was loosened, revealing to him her nipples. As he closed one in his mouth, his tongue working it hard and making her body ache with desire she pulled his hair, yanking his head back. The gasp that flew from his mouth, the way his eyes shined and narrowed as he looked at her was sinful.

With her free hand she pulled the zipper down on his jeans, a hard needy bulge coming at full attention. Silently and keeping his eyes on her face she pulled out his weeping cock, loving the way his mouth dropped open and his hands fidgeted around her hips.

When she sank down on him, he filled her up, never ceasing to feel utterly amazing every time. Her eyes felt heavy with every rock of her hips. She scrunched her face up in pleasure as it hit her body in every possible way. Sehun’s hold on her was tight, rough as he guided her on his cock. The soft whines that flew from his lips were exquisite.

She knotted both of her fists in his hair, knowing it stung but knowing he liked it as she rode him into oblivion.

His eyes clenched and his fingers dug into the skin at her lower back. “I’m close, please don’t stop.”

She smirked down at him, her eyes open and glassy as she looked at his red face. She couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. Using his hair she pulled his head back reveling in the sight of his neck as it bulged, fuck she closed her mouth over the column of his throat, sucking on it till he was red and until his body quaked beneath hers and his cum dripped down her thighs.

Without another second she let him go and with a lewd noise between her legs she climbed over to the driver's seat. She pulled her dress back over her head, shimmying it down her body all the while Sehun regained his breath and knowledge of where he was, his chest heaving and his hand running through his now messy hair.

Car sex had been their go to for years, it was actually how they began. The thrill of the kill always messed with their heads. They never talked about it but they knew it was a mutual understanding that they were good together.

“I’ll call Yifan.” He said with a gruff voice as she started the car.

She nodded and turned on the radio, unabashedly smiling as Sehun cleaned himself off with a box of - conveniently placed - tissues and did up his jeans.

“We did it, we’re on our way back now…..… No one is following.”

The call was short, blunt and sweet and neither party minded as Sehun hung up, tossing the phone on the dash. He then turned his attention onto her, her face as she drove, the soft light of the early evening complimenting her features in the best way. Even with her dress wayward and her cheeks red she was still a sight to behold.

Compulsively he ran a finger down her cheek, gaining him some attention. She smiled softly at him and carried on.

~~~

“We might have to up the protection on the brat in the bar.” She announced upon walking into their own VIP room in Yifan’s club.

“She’s not a brat.” Kyungsoo muttered from his corner of the pool table. “And why, what have you done?”

He looked between the two of them in the doorway and she blinked. “Did Yifan not tell anyone else?”

Jongdae stepped out from a booth, a beer in his hand looking intrigued and a little frightful. When it came to the missions the Bonnie and Clyde act got up to, he tended to stay out of the way but with the mention of a certain leader’s sister he had a duty to know

“What did you do?” Jondae asked.

“We did what we were told to do.” Her voice was hostile, even a little bit confused because why was the mission a secret?

Jongdae opened his mouth to reply, his expression just as bewildered but it closed upon the sight of new company. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees, the air turned tense and even the music from outside seemed to just become a blurr. Anxious she reached for Sehun’s hand, turning her head to face her furious looking leader as he eyed their shoulder bags.

He stared at the duo in front of him, his eyes on fire. “Would you two care to explain where you have been?”

Sehun squeezed her hand. “On a mission.”

Joonmyeon shook his head, his lips pursed and his expression thunderous. “You couldn’t have been, I didn’t give out a mission for either of you.”

“Well I did.”

If the room could have gotten any colder, she would have frozen to death. Yifan stood at the bar, pouring himself - obnoxiously nonchalant - a bourbon. Joonmyeon’s eyes zoned in on him, his face stoney.

“What did you do?”

“What had to be done.” Yifan took a sip, his throat burning but settling as he stared back at his compadre. “You didn’t have the conviction to give out the order so I did.”

“Order for what?” His voice had pitched, his eyes had widened, he feared the worst, especially at the knowledge that his snipers had been set loose.

“He has been choking us, waiting out there for us to slip up so he can take us down so I did what had to be done…” Yifan’s voice was level, his expression chillingly still and collected. “He tried to kill your sister, we respond in kind.”

Kyungsoo finally turned to the taller man, his naturally wide eyes widening a fraction before he ran out of the room; presumably to get back to his duty.

Yifan looked back up at Joonmyeon who looked like he was ready to strike. “But unlike them we see our work through… Don’t we?”

She swallowed hard, feeling like a mouse beneath a cat’s paw. She wanted to be proud of her work, the bullet in the back of that girl’s head was clean, unmistakable and took little to no skill because the sweet little rich girl didn’t know how to take care of herself and she was proud, always was of her kills. But it became harder by the second to stick to her twisted thirst for death the longer Joonmyeon stared down at her.

Her voice was shaky, her heart in her throat. She tucked herself into Sehun’s body, her own feeling vulnerable.

“I never miss.”

#sehun #oh sehun #exo #exom #exok #exol #exo sehun #exo 012 #sehun scenario #sehun smut #sehun exo #exo scenario #exo smut #exo angst #exo fluff #kyungsoo #exo au

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mysteli · 5 years

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Endless Summer Imperfect - Chapter 20

A/N: Yas! So here is Chapter 20 of Imperfect! This is actually gonna be two parter so I hope you’re ready. This chapter is very long and complex, packed with a lot of my ideas so please let me know if it gets confusing.

Warning: T

ES IMPERFECT TAG: @princessstellaris @mechaspirit @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @endlessly-searching-for-you @brightpinkpeppercorn @aragornesprincessgeekymamma @justboredtrash @diego-vii @indiacater @countrymusicandncis-blog @zigortega4life @nekkidmolerat @ravengalaxia @ladyseaheart1668 @endless-jake @theendofallsummers

Masterlist

Imperfect Masterlist

Endless Summer Aftermath - Ending 1 Imperfect Chapter 20 - Saviour

Estela

As quickly as she can, Estela stumbles through the halls of the building, trying so hard to fight her way through this hell hole. She needs to get out of here. She needs to. This isn’t normal. This isn’t a place of stability. It’s a crap hole in its own right and Estela shouldn’t be here. Hell, she can’t even really place where she is. It’s so hard to understand and guess because it’s clearly none existing on a map but it’s still here. So colossal but so hidden.

How does no one notice this place in broad daylight and question what the hell is in there?

No matter what, Estela needs to come back to reality and realise that she really is here and she can’t change it until she acts on instinct. As she stumbles through the iron hallways, her entire body numbs over occasionally from all the shit they’d injected her with. Stuff she can’t even identify because of how advanced it is and it’s crazy. Truly crazy that something mere like a formula can numb your entire body from time to time. The feeling comes and goes but Estela has to fight through it. She can’t count how many times her legs have buckled underneath her or her head has wracked from the pain of all the pills.

It’s impossible to consider how much effort they were willing to go through just to make her pass out for a long period of time and the side-effects are always doomed to be brutal.

Thank god Estela got out of that damp cell though. Unbearable, it is and who knew how long her limp body was rotting in there? It’s crazy to think about but Estela feels like absolute shit and she just wants to go home. That’s it. The only problem is... she doesn’t have a home. She doesn’t really know where she belongs and she can’t fucking figure out why the hell she is here? Why her of all people? Why pull her into the darkness? Maybe there is a clear reason and some part of Estela knows it. She just can’t... remember it.

That’s it. That has to be it. There just has to be some part of her that can find those hidden memories and bring them to the surface, ready to be enlightened. But all this time they’ve chosen to stay hidden and if only Estela could access them, then everything would make sense. Maybe all of this crazy shit would seem normal and Estela wouldn’t have to pretend she’s not afraid.

However, the real wonder is how the fuck she got out of such a guarded cell in the first place. The true answer is something you’d never believe and expect from a monster of whoever owns this place. You’d expect a cell with such high security that it would be literally impossible to escape at any time. And that’s how it seemed because Estela is apparently so important to whatever is going on here. But she found a way. She found a way out of that cell.

After hours of not being able to get up, she finally managed to vacate her lying state and climb to her feet, barely though and she was immediately shocked at how pained she was and her body was as numb as possible. Estela was climbing up the walls, her nails scratching the dark brick as she was fighting to get to her feet. Then suddenly, a door opened when her blistered hand barely grazed over a brick on the wall. It was blended in so well that any naked eye could have missed it. But Estela got lucky and she found a brick that left an opening that would hopefully lead to her to freedom. A tunnel of sorts was revealed and that was apparently the key to getting out of this hell hole, at least that’s what Estela hoped. Immediately when Estela entered the passageway without any hesitation, the brick slowly closed over behind her and she was left in bitter darkness, the only light being the dimly lit ones hovering over the ceiling but they really didn’t help when it came to guiding her. But Estela kept going... and she’s been running ever since.

Estela certainly hasn’t wasted any time with the amount of agony she’s willing to go through just to be free, even as all her the blisters, bruises, scars and wounds activate their pain filters and torture Estela, not even the numbness could help her. She’s truly hopeless and helpless but she’s also careless. She has no time to waste. She truly has nothing to lose so why not fight for freedom if it’s the only thing left to fight for?

Family is no longer an option for Estela, as her mother is truly gone or at least impossible to ever find. Estela has no other relatives to turn out so she can’t really picture what she will do if she ever gets out of this place. At this point, it almost sounds better to lie here forever. Unless the strange secret Lila announced was true... that Estela has a nearby father who wants to speak with her. Estela never believed it at all, doubted any word that Lila came up with because of the evil bitch she is. But now... it almost all seems plausible and that is terrifying to Estela. Because her only link left to family might just be a sick psychopath.

Might, though.

Suddenly, Estela stumbles upon a dead end, her dark eyes met with yet another brick wall. “Fuck...” Estela curses under her breath, a heavy puff of smoke escaping her cold, chapped lips and her voice comes out as a shaky echo. Her suspicions immediately rise as she narrowly scans the hard surface, having an idea that there may be more to this barrier than meets the eye.

It almost appears like an obstacle; a block in her path and she has to remove it to gain her freedom. Letting caution take over, Estela begins planting her hands on every brick she can find until one of them accesses yet another opening. Finally, one appears and Estela can’t help but twitch her eyebrows at the sight. Perhaps this is the exit to the outside world, she hopes.

But after a moment it doesn’t seem so possible, as there is no sunlight creeping in as the brick breaks free or a feeling of crisp wind running through Estela and lifting her brunette hair. Zero feeling of relief and hope. Just nothing and that’s when Estela realises... she’s still inside.

Not another dark cell though. No there is much more light in this room and Estela is almost blinded by the mediocre light, only because she had only been experiencing darkness over the last few weeks. She brings her brunette hair to the front, thankful that it had been thrown into a loose ponytail, as Estela refuses to think about the grease that roams through the dark hair. She can only focus on getting out of here. That’s all that really matters at this point.

The more Estela ventures through the new room, the closer the light seems to get and that’s when Estela begins to hear muffled voices coming further down the area. She remains obviously cautious about her surroundings as she suddenly stops in her tracks when her dark eyes land on yet another door but this time it isn’t made of brick and it isn’t disguised. It’s made of classic oak wood and actually contains a door handle. Clearly it’s easy to identify as an actual door, unlike some of the other openings Estela has encountered.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Estela creeps up to the door and sucks in a sharp breath, trying to find something to fight for but coming up short in that attempt. The only thing that comes to mind is freedom and that’s what she needs to trust. That freedom will find her and behind this door may be the answer to all her problems.

Estela starts a silent motion to open the door but suddenly pauses when she hears the muffled voices from before - the ones she pictured as her own hallucinations fooling her once more and she blamed her own state of mind. But now, they’re definitely real and oh so clear. Behind the door.

Carefully, Estela presses her ear up against the door and starts to eavesdrop in on what’s going on, her pace of breathing increasing with each passing second.

“...Estela.” The immediate mention of her name throws off straight away, startling her as a stranger’s voice that must have belonged to a British man says her name so idly even though Estela has never heard it used in such a voice before. It’s undeniably strange. She has never known anyone of British decent, not has she encountered anyone like that who happen to know of her. How her name can even get to the Brit’s brain is unimaginable.

A tense moment of silence takes place, the only sound being the surprised reaction of a gasp escaping another voice in the room and Estela can catch the faint sound of chains rattling against a wood floor. She tries to make that out as she awaits for words to be spoken. She’s just too curious to walk away now and she’s come too far to give up.

“...Why would you take Estela?” Someone finally speaks but it definitely isn’t the same one as before, judging by the lack of a prominent accent. No, this time it’s a sort of southern voice but there’s also a mix of classic America in the tone as well. A voice Estela happens to recognise but can’t find a face to match it with.

She furrows her brows and her jaw falls open at the next statement, spoken by the Brit. “Because she’s the key to activating the Omega Mech.”

Perplexed, Estela tries her best to process new information, unfortunate to not have any idea what they’re talking about. She is the key to some of project, which seems like the easiest assumption. Something she can only make work but with what... a part of her? Something she contains? Her... life? Perhaps? Hell no is she giving them that.

Listening closer, Estela tries to carefully digest every word they say and find a way to understand it but half the things they end talking about is impossible for Estela to contemplate. They continue to discuss an army of sorts and mention names of certain folk that Estela had never heard of before. Lundgren? Fiddler? But there is just one that happens to bring forth one memory... Mike.

Estela has encountered a man called Mike a few times in fact. She had suggested that they were friends but even mutuals seemed like a stretch. In truth, they are barely acquaintances and it’s probably a complete coincidence that his name happened to come up mere weeks after they’d met. He always seemed a little suspicious, especially with how he rushed out of her dorm as soon as he spotted her estimated drawing of a possible Jake McKenzie, who always reoccurred in the dreams she had frequently. This can’t be enough. This has to just be a coincidence. Estela can’t think any more of it.

One particular line spoken completely rattles Estela’s brain. A line explained by the British man. “She’s locked away in her own cell but don’t worry, you’ll see each other again soon. Better yet, she doesn’t hold her memories so she’ll be clueless if she sees you.”

See now that was just fucking strange.

Their conversation continues until another pair of doors suddenly burst open and a figure comes rushing in, judging by the sound of footsteps marching on the floor. Those movements are played out with anger and panic. Clearly something incredulous has occurred. Estela’s dark eyes widen and her mind boggles when she hears the familiar voice that speaks. At least there is one she can recognise.

“Lila, what’s wrong?” Goddamnit Lila. Can’t she just go away???

“It’s Estela... she’s gone.” Lila declares in an anxious tone, something that may have a hidden intention of her being scared for her life because that’s what it sounds like. Whoever she’s addressing is definitely someone she’s scared of. Lila’s voice comes across like she’s out of breath and it’s clear she’s realised Estela is gone.

All Estela hears then is loud scoff from the British man and some cocky words from the Southern man, who seems particularly proud of Estela for escaping - even though she can’t even identify who it is.

“So much for locked up, huh?”

The British man huffs in annoyance and Estela listens in closer. “That cell is one of the most guarded in the entire facility. How the hell did she get out?” He seems to be addressing Lila.

“I can’t say, sir. Maybe she found a way to pick the lock.” Lila suggests and Estela can practically hear the steam popping out of the Brit’s ears.

“That’s impossible! The cell door doesn’t even have a damn lock! It’s advanced technology that I tested for years!”

The Southern one can’t help but chuckle at the Brit’s incompetence. “Well, maybe you should have waited a little longer.”

“Shut it, Wolf.” The Brit scolds the Southerner, followed by the sound of a rough slap. “Guards, take him back to his cell and I’ll make sure everyone is out searching for Estela. She’s definitely still in the building and no matter what... I will find my daughter.”

Hearing that, Estela’s eyes widen and her jaw drops at the revelation. Is that... her father? The one that Lila happened to mention half a second before she left the cell? No... this can’t be it. Estela took it as a mere attempt at manipulation, a way of putting ideas into her head but... why would he say that if it wasn’t true? No fucking way. This is absolute madness. Every event in the last 24 hours has been crazy and Estela hasn’t even been here that long. A few hours at most and she’s already managed to get out.

High security. Complete bullshit.

Hell, all of this is bullshit. Estela feels like she’s entered an entire new world and it’s almost as if she’s a entirely different person. Her whole life has been explained to her in the worst possible way and she spent most of it thinking she had no living blood relatives left. Then suddenly... she has a father now? This can’t be real. This has to be some sort of nightmare because Estela just refuses to believe that this is all really happening.

Suddenly, a door creaks open and footsteps can be heard stomping along the wooden floor, causing the planks to shriek at the impact. Before the door slams shut, the British man speaks one last time.

“I’m going to alert the soldiers. Protect the army and we’ll see this as a test. Lila... stay here and guard the prisoner.”

“Prisoner? Who the fuck do you think I am?” The Southerner retorts, scoffing incredulously - almost refusing to believe that he was just referred to as a prisoner. Even Estela can’t believe it. The Southerner must be the one in chains then. What the hell is this place? Some kind of prison or asylum or something completely different?

“Watch your tone, Pilot. You will remain a prisoner until you accept that you’re my soldier. But don’t worry, there are still good things to come...” The British one, or Estela’s supposable father, pauses for a moment and his next words release a gasp from the other. “...you will have the chance to see your precious Princess soon.”

“Hold up, jackass! You got Princess?”

The Brit laughs deviously and Estela can practically picture the deceiving smirk on his face. “Not yet. But I will. And I’ll make sure you’re there to watch her die.”

With that, the door is yanked shut and Estela is left in absolute shock. But she has no time to process anything that just happened. In order to receive any information on what happened, she needs to rescue the Southerner who still remains shackled in that room. It’s only Lila who is guarding him and maybe a few extra unnamed security. Pretty easy.

But Estela definitely can’t charge in there empty handed. It’s essential that she’s prepared.

Frantically, her dark eyes dart around the dimly lit that she hasn’t really had a chance to scan as she was beckoned by the voices in the next room. But now she has to act fast. Her brunette hair rushes with her as she swiftly searches the room for anything that will help her with this act of rescue. A sigh of relief escapes when she finally spots her weapon of choice. She can’t help but crack a weak smile as she makes her way over to her findings.

A gun. Random, of course. Something that shouldn’t just be left on a box in the corner of a dark, empty room. Hell, this room looks as though someone has moved out of it. Who knows what it was used for but it appears pretty hidden and difficult to find? Before Estela launches out the door, she spots a simple light glowing in the distance and she can’t help but wanna check it out. Shes almost tainted by it and it’s almost like it’s calling out to her.

Estela knows she has to hurry though. With curiosity sparkling in her eyes, she creeps over to the light which is sheltered by a maroon curtain and Estela can barely make out the colour. Sucking in a sharp breath, she finally reaches the curtain and uses her tan hand to push aside the shredded material. She’s immediately shocked by the sight she sees.

A giant robot with a glowing light sparkling from its stomach. A vibrant red colour it is and it’s so colossal that the head of it almost touches the ceiling. It almost appears like it’s waiting to something and it seems to be crying out for help. But it almost seems like it’s begging and Estela feels tempted to touch it. Unable to resist, her hand slowly reaches forward as she cautiously begins to approach the broad daylight. She’s barely fingertips away from touching the light until... something snaps her out of her trance.

“AGH! FUCK!”

An agonised voice cries out in pain and Estela quickly rushes from the curtain, grabs the gun and bursts through the wooden door - knowing the voice is the sound of the supposable prisoner hissing in pain and she knows she needs to help.

By the time she enters the room on heavy feet, all eyes are on her as she raises her gun and points it directly at Lila - who’s eyes are widened with shock as she clutches a taser between her grasp while her hands shake uncontrollably. Vacated in the corner on his knees is someone rather familiar... someone Estela has definitely seen before.

That’s when she realises. That’s the one she encountered when he knocked on her door. He’s the one from the visions! Estela knew she’d seen him before. Wait... that’s Jake! Jake fucking McKenzie. Oh god... all of has to link with the visions. It all has to. Time is finally catching up to Estela. Everything might finally be explained.

Estela keeps a tight grip on her gun, refusing to show the fear she truly feels. Her eyes darken with a danger she’s summoned from deep within her and she’s never felt such control over anything before. This has to be her calling. Everything she’s waited for her entire life. And once again... she’s here with Lila. A scene where one of them is at gunpoint. Why is this their entire life now?

Logan

“What the fuck is this?” Logan questions with irritation, exhausted after having to walk what seemed like a million miles to the outskirts of London, where they’ve encountered what could easily be assumed as being the middle of nowhere.

Rebecca assured they needed to walk to get to the entrance of Rourke’s new ‘lair’ of sorts and she described getting there as complicated because of how hidden the place is. Logan, Mike and Diego have been complaining for hours and they haven’t been able to resist being suspicious of Rebecca because what if she’s just sending them in circles or on a wild goose chase. It’s completely strange and now suddenly... Rebecca has stopped walking and now they’re here... well somewhere.

Rebecca rolls her eyes at Logan’s constant impatience. “Just be patient.” She states, trying to keep Logan calm because of her desperation, it causes her to be a little short tempered when someone tells her to be patient.

“Patient? I’ve been fucking patient enough.”

Mike and Diego share an incredulous look, even they believe Logan needs to calm down but they also understand because of how much she’s been missing Jake and it’s clear how much she wants him back, especially recently.

“Logan, I know you’re desperate to find Jake but you gotta let me help you and you can help me by just waiting.” Rebecca points out, folding her arms and she glances down at the ground yet again. She’s been doing that constantly in the last few minutes.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I will actually— Woah!” Logan’s poorly executed threat is cut off when she feels the grumbling sensation of the floor shifting beneath her. The ground slowly begins crumbling away and everyone is forced to step back on Rebecca’s urge.

Everyone is immediately gobsmacked by the sight of a vast hole now planted on the surface and they even dare to glance into it, only to be met with a pitch-blackness like the night sky in a man made city - not natural. Rebecca raises her hand and waves the others off cautiously.

“What the actual fuck is this?” Logan questions, not able to close her damn jaw so luckily, Diego does it for her, shooting her a calming look that only soothes her slightly.

“It’s how we get in. Now wait.” Rebecca speaks in a hushed tone, scanning the hole momentarily and it almost appears like she’s checking for cameras or anything that could expose their presence.

Satisfied with the result of nothing, Rebecca steps back once more, not able to hold back a smirk as she hears the sound of metal rising within the hole. The others are just startled and their eyes widen even more when they catch sight of an elevator of sorts making its way to the surface - clearly here to take them underground.

“Wow,” Mike sighs out of shock, only able to let out a heavy whisper of words.

Rebecca slowly steps onto the metal. “Come on.” She urges for the others to step on, which they obey and join her on the metal plate. She clutches her gun and releases a deep sigh when she suddenly remembers something disturbing. “As we go down here, you’re going to see something you’re gonna wanna forget.”

Logan furrows her brows, not liking what’s coming. “What do you mean?”

“This elevator is the secret entrance for security so it leads into the prison area.”

Logan suddenly feels an ounce of hope and it shows within her ocean eyes. “...Is Jake in there?” She dares to ask.

“...No. He was in there but Rourke moved him to the interrogation area and that’s where he should be now. That’s where we’re gonna go.” Rebecca clarifies, moving her auburn ponytail to the front.

“Wait... so what’s in the prison area then?” Diego enquires, almost scared to ask such a thing.

“...That’s where Rourke’s army is being held. All his... animals. All his projects. Everything he manipulates to join his side. Only the successful ones live in cages within this area. You might call them... the Vaanti.”

Everyone gasps faintly, their pace of breaking increasing rapidly. They don’t really have time to question it as the elevator begins venturing down into the hole and in that moment they know... there’s no turning back.

“Buckle up. You’re in for a ride.”

Michelle

The night rolls on and the outside side world silences itself as the moon slowly rises and causes half the world to shut down and an entirely different atmosphere takes over. That’s the part of the world that Michelle hates most. The silent side. The dangerous side. The feared side. The dark side. Michelle finds it soothing sometimes because she’s been there so many times. She’s seen all the flaws in people and what it can do them. Her old friends, if that’s what she can even dare call them. The ones who kicked her from the sorority left her with absolutely nothing. She was left alone, bombarded by isolation and she felt hopeless.

Then suddenly, Michelle encountered Quinn. This wonderful person labelled by stereotypes as cheerful and delighted by everything and the world around her. She could easily seem like the happiest person alive but... deep down she was suffering. All that time she was in pain and that smile on her face was there by force and urgency because she always stayed strong for the people she loved.

Now look where she is.

Tossed aside by the world and taken over by disease. Her soul was needed on this earth and one can hope it’s still here and here to stay. Because no one wants her to go. No one does.

Michelle has literally been comforting Quinn most of the night and the nurse had alerted her earlier that Quinn’s parents would be driving out tomorrow. By then, Michelle would definitely still be here because she sure as hell isnt leaving Quinn’s side. She can’t be left alone and she refuses to leave Quinn stranded in a coma. There has to be hope, despite what the medicals say.

Michelle is balled up in a chair, so close to drifting off to sleep but she’s been trying so hard to keep herself awake. She can’t sleep, especially not after everything that occurred today. Sean offered to stay with her when she made the decision to stay all night but she assured him that she was gonna be okay and urged him to go get some sleep. But Sean promised to be back to support her early the next day.

Sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of a limp Quinn, Michelle brings her knees up on the chair, clutching them as she shivers from the crisp cold of the room. She can’t say she’s not exhausted and she can’t say she isn’t hurting. Quinn doesn’t deserve this. She should be happy and healthy and able to live her life because all of this is just an bunch of bullshit.

Why does the world always curse the ones who are good and pure? I thought it was supposed to be about catching the evil and letting the heroes live on.

Suddenly, the door to the hospital creaks open and Michelle expects it to be another nurse asking if she’s alright to leave again but once again, she’ll say she’s determined to stay for Quinn all night and the nurse just rolls her eyes and walks out. But now it isn’t a nurse. No it’s... Zahra Namazi. What the fuck is she doing in a hospital? Now this is strange.

Michelle bats her eyelashes in disbelief, checking if she hasn’t gotten crazy because Zahra is actually in a hospital. She’s probably here to check on Michelle though but she’s had enough of those from Sean.

With an expression of concern, Zahra makes her way over to Michelle and seats herself on the armrest of the chair. She throws her arm around Michelle and rubs the side of her shoulder comfortingly.

“You didn’t have to come here. It’s 1am.” Michelle assures in a muttered tone, so quiet its barely a whisper.

Zahra just scoffs playfully. “Sean called me, Craig and Raj and we wanted to help so we came down here. Besides, I have nothing better to do.” Zahra jokes but is also undeniably serious, judging by the bluntness of her tone.

Michelle giggles ever so lowly. “Wait... so Craig and Raj are here too?”

“In the waiting room. I suggested coming in first. Sean told us how broken you are over this.” Zahra points out, moving Michelle’s stray strands of ombré hair out of her face, saddened by the look of grief and doubt in her hazel eyes. “Hey... she could still be alive, you know?”

“I know... but it’s a coma. She’s supposed to just die now... but I don’t wanna believe that.” Tears start to drop out of the corners of Michelle’s eyes but she holds back the unwanted show of emotion.

“It’s okay to cry, Meech. Quinn was important to you. You helped her through a lot... but I still don’t know what happened.” Zahra tries to state this as vaguely as possible but Michelle catches on, sighing heavily.

“She’s had Rotterdam’s Syndrome since she was born. The last stage is a coma and well... this is it.”

Zahra sucks in a sharp breath, having heard that. She doesn’t contain much knowledge of Rotterdam’s but she knows it’s pretty fatal. Just the thought of it is chilling. “You’re okay. This is gonna work out. Quinn could still be okay.”

“And what if she’s not? What do I have then?” Michelle questions and for a moment, Zahra doesn’t know how to answer.

“...You have us. And we’re here to help you through this.”

Suddenly, hearing that, something clicks in Michelle’s mind and she can’t help but start breathing heavily, remembering Quinn’s last words.

“Zahra... you know Logan Mercer, right?” Michelle suddenly pipes up and Zahra is slightly taken aback, having only just seen Michelle in a state of grief only to see her in a state of curiosity now.

“Yeah?”

“Well... you’ll never believe what Quinn said to me before she... you know.”

“Tell me.”

Jake

Estela fucking Montoya. Jake knew she’d find a way out. She ain’t the type of girl to just sit back and give up. No way would she fucking surrender to anything. No that ain’t who she is. Now she’s here, standing before a shackled Jake - a steady gun tangled in her fingers as she points it directly as the traitor. Now this is the Estela that Jake came to respect at least.

He always appreciated that she was a fighter and never looked away from a single challenge. Even the most dangerous situation she’d take with ease and agility. She holds her family within her heart as well or at leat the members she wants to remember. Her mother was always the biggest motivation for the revenge against Rourke and even though Estela lacks any knowledge from the island or her past self, she’s still out to get the vicious bastard and she’s appearing like the person she once was. A woman with a weapon but that weapon isn’t the gun in her grasp. No... it’s the heart that drives her and keeps her going every damn day.

Jake can’t help but form a smirk when he sees Estela, even after just being tasered and tortured. He doesn’t even care because he feels so much relief right now that the pain has numbed over. All he can focus on is the fact that he might finally get out of this hell hole today and it’s about fucking time.

Estela barely glances at Jake, focusing all her attention on Lila - who is actually trembling from the sight of Estela with her weapon in her hands. Now she has the power. Now she has control and she’s loving every second of it.

“Drop the taser.” Estela orders rather slowly, gesturing for Lila to drop her weapon, which she doesn’t do at first - merely glancing at the weapon and hesitating ever so slightly. “Drop the taser!” Estela demands so much louder and viciously this time and Lila immediately drops the taser - the startled instinct from the volume of Estela’s voice caused the taser to just slip out of her hands.

Jake watches the situation with ease, actually enjoying what he’s seeing right now. For a minute, he just forgets about everything he’s been through and just focuses on the satisfying feeling of sweet sweet revenge.

“Leave.” Estela gives a stern, one word order but Lila just scowls, arching her eyebrows out of irritation.

“No.” Lila dismisses the idea of surrendering and Estela’s deadly glare deepens even more. That almost didn’t seem possible.

“Leave or I will shoot you.”

“No you won’t.” Lila takes a cautious step towards Estela, meeting her face to face. “You don’t have the guts, Stela. Admit it.”

Estela’s blood-curdling scowl starts to burn out and her weaknesses start to crack through the defence walls that sheltered the intimidation - tears begin to swell in her corners of her dark eyes, a rare innocence shining through.

“Yes I do. This has to fucking end, Lila, and it ain’t gonna be over if you don’t back down.”

“There’s no difference between me backing down and being dead so you may as well choose the easy option. Lock me up or have me killed. Which one sounds quicker?” Lila taunts Estela, laughing mockingly when she spots a mere tear drifting down Estela’s cheek. A pained show of emotion. Something she shouldn’t have let out. “Aw, is Stela crying? Is this hurting you because if it is, then good. It was your goddamn memories that kept you going and now you don’t have them so guess what... you’re just weak.”

Estela’s blood begins to boil hearing that, her anger threatening to pop out of her veins as she tightens her grip on the gun, moving it so it’s pointing directly at Lila’s head. One bullet and it would all be over.

“Leave, Lila. I don’t wanna kill you.”

“Oh yes you do. So do it. Put that damn bullet through my head and see what it does for you... murder is a relief like no other and once you’ve killed me, you won’t be able to stop. You’ll wanna kill forever and that’s what happened to me and I know it will happen to you because you’re so easily tempted by the satisfaction of a kill.”

Estela suddenly looks to Jake as if she’s begging for help or some sort of advice. For a moment, he’s clueless and doesn’t know how to help her. He merely nods to her and basically is signalling to her to just do it. This damn woman has put Estela through so much unimaginable pain and she doesn’t deserve it so it’s better to just end it all.

Estela suddenly feels her first sign of certainty and with that, her confidence returns and a devious smirk finds her lips as a glare matches that amount of intimidation she carried within her before.

“You know what, Lila...” Estela hesitates for a moment but quickly shakes the feeling away. She knows she has to do this. For her mother. For the world. “...I always hated you.”

With that said, Estela applies pressure to the trigger of the gun and plants a bullet through Lila’s head. Lila barely has time to process what just happened before her life fades away and her limp body aimlessly collapses onto the wooden floor - a deafening shriek echoing throughout the room at the pressure of the action.

Estela

Estela suddenly feels a sense of relief and risk and she skims over her work, eyeing the deceased with no remorse what so ever. And suddenly, from that thrill and adrenaline, Estela’s memories just flow through her mind, rushing through her body continuously and giving her a chance to feel something familiar. Something she hasn’t felt in a long time and it almost feels like she’s right back where she started. Her head starts to ache from the amount of memories but she also feels an endless amount of relief.

Finally, she remembers everything. How she lost her mother. How she almost killed Lila. Getting trapped on the island. Almost killing a colossal crab. Attacking a sea monster. Meeting a pirate. Mike... seeing him tortured but also falling in love with him only to then watch him die in the air - an explosion taking him away from her. Absolutely everything. She remembers it all. Everything and everyone, causing her to look back at Jake with a weak smile.

Jake furrows his brows and she nods at him respectively — shooting him an all too familiar look. One he hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing in a long damn time. There’s only one explanation for a look like that.

“Do you...”

Estela simply nods, speaking in a hushed whisper. “Yeah, cabron.”

Jake begins to chuckle and he can’t believe it. Finally he can see someone he actually cares about. It isn’t Logan but it’s still someone undeniably close to him and that’s just taking him one step closer to his soulmate. She can’t be far now.

“I’d love a reunion but... I’m a little deprived.” Jake acknowledges, gesturing to the fact that he’s still shackled and bounded by chains. Remembering, Estela cracks a laugh and tries to find anything that could free him, knowing Rourke probably keeps the key with him. Oh yeah... she knows now that Rourke is her father. Ew.

Estela ends up stumbling upon a fire extinguisher and uses it to break Jake’s chains, clearly stealing the idea from Logan who used it during the sabertooth and clearly Jake recognises that.

“Steal that off Princess, did ya?”

Once he’s free, Estela carefully guides him to his feet, only then realising how damaged and bruised Jake is. “Damn, Jake. They really fucked you up, didn’t they?”

Jake raises Estela’s arm and rolls her sleeve up, gesturing to the scattered scars on her arm. “I could say the same thing about you, Katniss.”

Estela giggles lowly. “Still at it with the nicknames, huh?”

“What else? Nothing has really changed.” Jake sighs heavily, hanging his head and gazing hopelessly at the ground. It’s so easy to guess what he’s thinking about.

“You thinking about Logan?” Estela acknowledges, almost wishing she didn’t when she sees the heavy tinge of sadness in Jake’s cerulean eyes when he lifts his head.

“Of course I am. Haven’t been thinking about anything else since I got here.”

Estela places a comforting hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Hey, Jake... we’ll find her.” She promises in her most effective reassuring tone and she’s not even sure if it works.

Jake just chooses to shake off his grief and summons all the strength he has because he knows he can’t break down now. Not when he has the chance to escape. “Not if we sit around here moping, Katniss. You got a gun for me?”

“Not really. This gun was just kinda neglected” Estela realises, searching the room for any sign of a weapon. “Maybe there’s something around here. This is Rourke’s office.”

“Do we have time?”

“We’re okay if we’re quick.”

With that, Jake and Estela spend a few minutes searching for something. Anything that would assist them in this escape because deep down they knew that Jake needs some sort of protection if he’s gonna have any chance of getting out here. While Jake searches the book shelf for god knows what reason, he stumbles upon an opening when he applies pressure to one the books and he can’t help but be curious about what’s behind the book shelf as it starts to drift away.

Estela notices what’s happening and her dark eyes widen with bewilderment. “What the fuck is this?”

“I don’t know.”

All of a sudden, Jake and Estela are left shellshocked when they catch sight of a familiar face resigning in a heavily guarded cage and they are contained rather well. Almost sitting in a danger zone and Estela almost drops her weapon when she realises who it is, sitting in the corner and clutching their knees as they shiver with fear. They almost don’t seem human but like one of Rourke’s projects. An animal, if you dare to see it that way.

“...Mother?”

Mike

This is absolutely insane. What kind of man would hold all these innocent creatures like this? They’re hyper-evolved humans and they’re basically forms of technology but they don’t know that. They only believe in living in peace and harmony. All the Vaanti believed they were past the war, yet here they are - trapped in cages unwillingly and they aren’t even aware of who they are anymore. They look dazed, confused as they claw at the cages and at the humans as the elevator finally comes to a stop, forcing them off it.

But the cages don’t stop there. There are thousands of the Vaanti trapped within this facility and this seems to be Rourke’s entire plan. To build an army and take over the world after Project Janus failed him in gaining power. This is his way of resolving it all. Waging war and taking back a world that was never really his. He has no other option though but there is always a chance at peace but there’s no way in hell he’d choose that. Rourke is too much of a monster to stoop that high.

Mike is truly trembling at the sight of all of these creatures, who have been manipulated by Rourke to worship him and act like raw, animalistic predators who only believe in war and nothing else. Mike used to be like that, when Rourke found a way to use mind games against him and completely take control. That’s why Mike hates this so much and wants justice because he’s been through all this.

All these helpless Vaanti members fighting for freedom they can’t define anymore. They don’t even know what they’re reaching for but Rourke wants them to be reaching for war and revenge. He wants them to feel helpless enough to turn to Rourke for support and shelter. It seems like they’re already torn to his side and now he’s just waiting for the right time to unleash the monsters he’s created and release them onto the battlefield.

It’s truly heartbreaking and a dreaded situation that no one should be in. Their lives now lie in Rourke’s hands, as well as their blood should it be necessary.

Tears roam down the eyes of Logan and Diego, as they sympathise with the Vaanti and their desperate conditions. Diego even gets terrified that Vaaryn is among them but Logan reminds him that he was in the same cell as Jake so they’re both probably in the interrogation area that Rebecca described, which seemed to reassure him a little.

Soon enough, the cages finally end and Rebecca leads everyone through a door that ends the sound of the desperate cries of the Vaanti and the form of torture finally fades away but everyone is still left with aches and shivers that will never go away. They’re scarred and that’s what Rebecca predicted.

As soon as everyone is given as chance to calm down - they scan their surroundings, realising they’ve reached the main aspect of the facility - a line up of iron hallways that could go on for hours. It’s like a maze in here.

Logan is still startled by what she just saw, shivering uncontrollably. “Did Rourke do that to them?”

Rebecca nods hesitantly, ashamed that she even knows of that information. “Yes, unfortunately. I only know of his plan to make an army out of them.”

“He’s gonna use them to take over the world.” Mike acknowledges, folding his arms in a solemn manor and arching his eyebrows at the mention of Rourke.

“Exactly, which is why we have to keep moving. The interrogation area is this way.” Rebecca starts to lead them through the iron halls until she suddenly pauses, raising her hand as a sign of warning and it almost reminds Mike of what Jake used to do when he knew danger was coming. It was the stop moving sign and clearly Logan knew of it too - as they share a reminiscent look.

The sound of muffled voices travelling closer can be heard and Rebecca’s eyes widen with fear, as she quickly turns around and gestures to one of the empty cells.

“Hide in there.” Rebecca motions and Mike hesitates, eyeing her suspiciously.

“How do we know you won’t lock us in there?”

“You don’t trust me? Okay I’ll give you the fucking key. Let yourself out.” Rebecca suddenly tosses a card towards Mike that seems to be the idea of not using a key but scanning a card to get though. “Now get in the cell.”

Mike just nods with zero emotion, leading both Logan and Diego into the cell before following them in. They try to remain as silent as possible, as the voices loom closer to Rebecca. They clearly belong to two guards as they suddenly stop to talk to Rebecca.

“What are you do doing down here, McKenzie?” One of them ask her in a questioning tone.

“What do you mean what am I doing? I’m guarding the cells.” Rebecca replies bluntly.

“Didn’t ya hear? Rourke wants us all on alert, searching for one of the prisoners that went missing.”

Rebecca is a little startled at this news and she can’t help but ask who. “Who? No one even told me.”

“Rourke made an announcement on the speaker and were all supposed to be looking for um... Estela Montoya.”

Mike’s dark eyes immediately widen when he hears that they have Estela. Such a familiar name to his ears and it kills him to hear that she’s been taken as well. She’s here. Being held captive. Just like Jake. Fuck now that’s two people Mike loves that have been taking away from him. Damn... Estela doesn’t remember either so why would Rourke kidnap her like that?

“Estela Montoya? But—“

Before Rebecca can protest, the speaker above them begins to buffer and that means Rourke is about to declare something - perhaps update them on this whole Estela situation.

“Every soldier should be on higher alert now. I’ve just received news that not only Estela Montoya has gone missing but... Jake McKenzie has slipped away,” Hearing Jake’s name causes Logan’s jaw to drop but she still feels some kind of hope. “I order every soldier to bring me both of them and I want them alive!”

The speaker cuts off and everyone is left shell-shocked - aside from officers who just shrug off the news.

“Well, looks like we got two loose canons to watch out for. Take it easy, McKenzie.” Finally the two security guards leave and Rebecca feels like she can’t even breathe. Jake has escaped and Estela has escaped, even though they’re both still in the building. That is a certainty.

Mike quickly swipes the card over the lock and opens the cell door, not surprised to find Rebecca just as shocked as he is. No one can believe this is actually happening. The worst of them is definitely Logan, who is struggling to catch her breath and she can’t decide if she wants to feel hope or feel dread and fear. What if Jake is impossible to find now and he’s already gone? No one can be sure of anything anymore. Estela as well. It’s awful.

“So Jake is still here, right?” Logan dares to ask, countless stutters in her voice after what she just heard.

“Definitely. He couldn’t have gone far. This news only just came through.” Rebecca assures.

“So we just need to search the place then? Hope we run in to him.” Mike suggests, stroking his jaw thoughtfully.

“And fight any bastards that stand in our way.” Logan adds, a deadly look of determination in her sapphire eyes.

“Wait... what about the interrogation area? Vaaryn is in there.” Diego suddenly acknowledges, looking slightly annoyed that everyone forgot such an important detail.

“We can save him immediately after, Diego.” Mike assures, patting Diego on the back reassuringly but he is having none of it.

“No. That doesn’t matter. We might run out of time by then. I’m gonna go there. Whether you guys like it or not.” Diego states triumphantly, acting like he knows what he’s doing.

“But Diego...” Logan approaches him with an anxious expression, afraid for his safety and even his life.

Diego wraps Logan in a meaningful hug, letting her know he’s gonna be okay. He won’t forget everything she’s taught him and he definitely won’t forget those minor survival skills he learnt on the island. “I’ll be safe, Lo. I promise. I just wanna find my soulmate like you wanna find yours.” Diego whispers sweetly, a bravery Logan hasn’t seen within him since he chose to sacrifice himself.

“I’ll go with him. He could use the protection.” Rebecca volunteers and Logan nods towards her thankfully, showing Rebecca an ounce of respect.

Tears soaking her cheeks, Logan wraps Diego in yet another hug, knowing she’ll never get tired of Diego and she vows not to lose him. “I love you, okay? Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

With last words unleashed, both Diego and Rebecca begin rushing down the iron hallways and Diego shoots Logan one last meaningful wave just as he passes a corner, causing him to disappear completely out of view. Logan only hopes that isn’t the last time she’s gonna see her best friend.

Right now, she needs to focus on finding Jake and maybe Estela if he’s with her. Sucking in a sharp breath, Logan wipes away her tears and nods towards Mike when he glances at her with concern in his chestnut eyes.

“I’m fine.” She assures bluntly, fidgeting with Jake’s jacket which she’s still wearing and she stuffs her hands in the pockets, her fingers grazing over the compass that is classed as her Ember of Hope. She reaches in and pulls the golden compass out, admiring its simplicity and everything it symbolises. “This ain’t really giving me much hope is it?”

Mike eyes her with sympathy, unable to even imagine the kind of pain she’s experiencing. He places a hand on her shoulder. “It ain’t fair, kid.”

“Of course it isn’t fair. Since when did I deserve this kind of life?” Logan starts to question everything and Mike can see where this is going and it will only result in panic.

“Please don’t start breaking down now, Lo. Jake’s not far away, okay? We’re gonna get to him.”

“But what if—“

“No... no what ifs. We’re gonna save him, okay? That’s the bottom line.” Mike assures, stroking the surface of Logan’s platinum hair in a friendly, comforting manor but Logan can’t focus on relief, as she notices a slight shift in the direction of the compass. Mike catches the suspicion in her ocean eyes and can’t help but be confused and curious. “What are you looking at?”

Logan blinks a few times, trying to figure out of if it was a hallucination or not. “Nothing it’s just... I swear I saw this move. It was actually pointing somewhere.” She shakes her head and is about to close the compass until she hears it shift in direction again.

“Look! It’s moving.” Mike swiftly acknowledges, finally able to hope that maybe this is the key to finding Jake. Maybe this is their link to being soulmates and Logan can find them when they’re close.

Soon enough, the compass starts moving everywhere, pointing in every direction possible until it settles on one specific way... down the iron hallways, pointing North and Logan just feels an urge to follow the compass and trust in its message.

“Come on. This has to be the key.”

Zahra

“So... do any of you have my laptop?” Zahra suddenly questions and everyone is confused as to why that is the first thing she says when she walks out the room after going in there to check on Michelle.

Raj is completely baffled, reaching into his bag and retrieving the laptop. “Yeah... still don’t understand why you had to bring that by the way.”

Zahra grabs the laptop off Raj and sticks her tongue out at him before falling back into a chair. “You don’t know how long we’re gonna be here. I was prepared so I brought entertainment.”

“We’ve been here less than ten minutes.” Craig rightly points out.

“Quiet, Craiggers.” Zahra brings her finger to her lips and shushes Craig, causing him to eye her questioningly as she begins to frantically type away. Both Raj and Craig are undeniably curious and intrigued.

“What are you even doing?”

“I’m looking up something very important.” Zahra points out, not letting her gaze shift away from the screen as she remains focused, calm and collected.

“Which is what exactly? Is it to do with Michelle?” Raj asks, running a hand through the black curls off his hair.

Zahra raises an eyebrow. “Something like that.”

“Is she okay?” Raj questions, suddenly concerned that Zahra doesn’t care because she isn’t giving them anything to go off.

“She’s fine. Little shaken up but she’s fine.”

Raj shakes his head out of disappointment, starting into the room. “I’m gonna go check on her.”

With Raj out of view, Craig wanders over to where Zahra is sitting and is immediately bewildered by what he’s met with on the screen. A website about... some kind of heart?

“What the hell is this, Z?”

“The island’s heart. Something Michelle described to me. She asked me to check it out and find out more about it. Has some strong history with a tribe called the Vaanti and it’s something that’s never been seen before.” Zahra explains, skimming over the website she’d found.

“Why is Michelle talking about this?”

“Because of something Quinn mentioned in her last few words. And you won’t believe that it has something to do with Logan Mercer.”

“Everything does these days.” Craig jokes, laughing lowly.

“Exactly, which is why I’m gonna find out everything about this damn thing.”

Jake

Jake actually can’t believe what he’s seeing right now. Olivia Montoya, at least in appearance, is trapped in a cage, isolated and alone and acting as though she has no ounce of knowledge whatsoever. Something isn’t right. Rourke has been keeping her locked up for a while and she seems to be stored as one of his projects. Did he find her revived and then decided to experiment on her? Make her into something inhumane and lifeless almost. He must have taught Olivia that her only source for an answer to anything should be war and violence because that’s all she’s been doing for the amount of time Estela and Jake have been staring at her.

Jake can’t help but feel especially sorry for Estela, as she is forced to go through this all over again. There is no subtle way to say that Estela may never get her real mother back now because what humanity could be left in a creature like this? Whatever project or formula of Rourke’s this is is completely fucked up and he would have made sure there was no form of cure. It can’t be possible.

Staring. That’s all that’s going on now. Estela can’t believe what she’s seeing. Her actual mother, who she thought she’d never see again, sitting shackled in a cage, unable to claw at the electrical defences of the cage or she would suffer from burn marks - judging by the marks on her body it seems like she already has. What the hell has Rourke done, bringing Olivia back to life and using her as some kind of pawn is just horrible? Of all people someone he actually might have loved once. It’s completely insane. Her own father is experimenting on her own mother.

Damn... what a fucked up family tree.

After a moment, Estela finally swerves around, pivoting to face Jake who is eyeing her with the most concern he can summon. He’s never been good at comfort but Logan left with him with some methods after everything she’s done for him. Estela doesn’t even look mournful or in grief or anything. She just furious, her dark eyes blazing with a menace Jake only ever saw when she found out Lila killed her mother in cold blood. Now it’s happening all over again.

It’s easy to see that Estela is so goddamn protective over her mother and any respectable family she has left, not including Rourke and it’s uncertain about Aleister. But Jake has never seen anyone so dedicated to her family like Estela is. It’s so admirable but it’s also really depressing with everything that keeps getting thrown at Estela in the absolute worst ways.

Now she’s met with her mother being strained and held captive and who knows what’s going through her mind?

Her deadly gaze burns a hole through Jake’s skull and he can’t help but shake his head at her, trying to silently signal for her to calm down. “Rourke fucking did this. I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Estela vows, barely glancing back at her tortured mother before immediately turning back. She just can’t stand the sight.

“Katniss, I know you’re hurting but you gotta stay calm if we’re gonna get out of here alive.” Jake urges, placing a hand on Estela’s shoulder and rubbing it as comfortingly as he can but nothing seems to be working.

“Stay calm? Jake, I ain’t fucking leaving without Rourke’s head on a pike and I sure as hell don’t wanna go without my mother. I can’t leave her in this goddamn place.”

“There’s no time! We gotta run now or we’re just gonna die!” Jake clarifies, running a hand through his sandy hair and he surveys the room, once again searching for a weapon or any form of defence.

“If it was Logan trapped like this, would you leave her?” Estela dares to question that and Jake can immediately understand what’s she getting at. Of course he’d save Logan and nothing would stop him from getting her back. Even if this isn’t the same thing, Jake has gotta let Estela try and at least gain a piece of her family back.

All of a sudden, the double doors to the office burst open and approximately five Arachnids appear on the other side, heavy loaded guns in their grasp - quite sizeable as well. Jake just rolls his eyes at the sight and quickly shreds a wooden plank off the floor - left with no choice as he couldn’t locate a weapon.

“Agh, fuck. Why now?” He curses under his breath and tilts his head towards Estela, as she prepares to load her gun. “No, Katniss. Give me that gun and I’ll fight them off. You get your goddamn mother!” Jake urges and Estela nods respectfully, thankful to have his approval of saving her mother. She would have done it anyway but knowing Jake is on board is always great. That way she can least assume she’s doing the right thing.

Estela tosses Jake the gun and he skilfully catches it, realising he still has the wooden board in his other hand. “What the hell?” He throws all caution to the wind and aimlessly throws the wooden plank at one of Arachnids and he chuckles mockingly when it bounces off their head and sends them on the floor.

Spotting the scene, the other Arachnids eye Jake suspiciously and he just laughs out loud once more. “Oh. That was just a joke.” He states, finally raising the gun Estela gave to him a little earlier. “This baby is the real deal. Now, let’s dance, Assholes!”

With that, Jake takes advantage of the distraction and starts aiming and shooting bullets wherever he has a clear shot. Some of the Arachnids avoid the bullets while others are hit clean in places but they don’t fall or die. Jake heavily boots on the Arachnids as soon as they dare to get closer to him and they instantly stagger back, dropping their weapon in the process. Smirking proudly, Jake retrieves the weapons and faces the Arachnids with ease.

“Bye bye! Have fun at Charlotte’s web!” Jake bids them farewell before completely wiping out the Arachnids with a crisp line of bullets that take them out one by one. Soon enough, they all lie lifeless on the ground, with no source of freedom or recovery.

Jake can’t help but admire his work, even though he should probably feel some ounce of remorse. Honestly, he couldn’t care less after everything these bastards put him through. “Now that is how you tango!”

“Ugh!”

Jake suddenly stops in his tracks when he hears Estela cry out in frustration and he swiftly carries the bigger gun over his shoulder and ventures into the once hidden area, where Estela is fiddling with a control panel that lies against the wall. She constantly curses under breath when she’s unsuccessful with the password. Meanwhile, Olivia just watches Estela like a hawk, observing rather creepily and she tilts her head to the side, unaware of what’s really happening. Clearly she’s just a clueless animal now who only believes in waging war.

“Hey, Katniss. You okay?” Jake questions, placing a hand on her shoulder and forcing her to look up with frustration.

“No! I can’t find the goddamn passcode.”

“What about that Hadean Zodiac mess of a password?” Jake guesses, realising he may have stated the obvious.

“I already tried that, dumbass. That’s the first thing I tried.” Estela responds coldly and Jake isn’t offended because he understands how desperate she is to have her mother back. She suddenly furrows her brows when she spots the giant gun in Jake’s grasp. “Damn. Nice catch. You kill them all?”

“‘Course I did. There’s like four other guns just sitting out there. Who knows how many we can use?”

Estela smirks at that. “Well take them all, just in case.” With that, Estela suddenly realises something and just the thought of it causes her to heart to sink inside her chest and she closes her eyes as tears soak her face and her knees start to buckle underneath her. She glances at her mindless mother, knowing escaping alive with her is close to impossible. “I have to leave her here, don’t I? It’s too late to get her out.”

Jake just sighs heavily, not wanting to be the one to say it. “I’m sorry, Katniss. No one deserves this but... Rourke already has control of your mother. Hell, he has control of almost all the Vaanti too. We can’t save any of them.” The truth he told is brutal, of course, but it also makes perfect sense. They can’t save everyone and someone was always gonna be left behind here.

Realising, Estela nods to Jake and slowly approaches her mother, startled when Olivia jumps up and nearly grabs at the bars of the cell roughly before she pauses midway, realising that they are charged electrically. Anyone who touched it would be shocked. And Olivia seems to know that. Wow, maybe one day she can be saved.

“I’ll come back for you. One day. I’m not gonna let Rourke own you forever. I promise.” Estela is wracked with sobs and the agony of leaving her mother is just timeless and she knows she’ll never recover. “I love you, mother. Please don’t forget that.”

Out of the blue, the faint sound of heavy soldiers marching through the hallways can be heard and that’s when they know they need to move now before they get caught.

Estela slowly rises, facing Jake with much more ease and certainty than before. “Come on. Let’s get out of this hell hole.”

“You still want a gun... or four?”

Logan

Both Logan and Mike continue to follow the compass and let it guide them into the right direction. With enough hope and promise, it might just lead them to Jake. This has to be the impact of soulmates and there must a connection within the Ember of Hope. The purpose of this compass was to reveal a future with Jake McKenzie and maybe one day it would come true. Jake is her Ember of Hope and the compass is merely a symbol of that and Logan wants nothing more than to be reunited with the man she loves oh so much.

This may finally be the key to finding Jake. Who knows? With each footstep they might just be getting closer and closer. Mike trusts in this theory 100% since he’s practically the one who made it known to Logan in the first place. He’s the reason she even came up with this crazy assumption and they’re both choosing to act on it and just hope. The real question is why now?

Why couldn’t this have been a guide to them all those weeks ago? It would have helped tremendously and Logan wouldn’t have had to go through the pain and suffering that she did. Now she’s here and she can’t help but wonder if Jake is really gonna be here. What if he’s already escaped? She knows Mike clarified that he’s definitely still here but Logan has been shut down before and her hopes have collapsed with her, as well as her mental state. She just can’t live with any more disappointment or she’ll crumble like she always does.

As they try to be quick and cautious as they speed through the halls, the facility seems to get bigger the further they venture through it and they know they may not be able to find their way back. Even with Rebecca and Diego off searching for Vaaryn, Logan’s worries are at their peak and she can’t stay calm. She just can’t. Not when everything is so at risk.

Suddenly, Mike hears the heavy sound of footsteps marching through the hallways and it’s clearly guards out searching for Jake and Estela. The sound of their guns being activated alarms Logan and her ocean eyes narrow as she instinctively pulls out her weapon of choice. Mike carefully guides her beside him on the wall and he cautiously peers around the corner, only to quickly turn back when he spots the soldiers marching in their direction.

“How many are there?” Logan questions in a hushed tone.

Mike’s shoulders slump back as he raises his gun and peeks around the corner once more, glancing back when he manages to count them. “Six. But there could easily be more coming.”

Logan glances back at the open compass, noticing how it’s pointing in the direction of the soldiers. “Damnit. The compass wants us to go through the soldiers.”

“Well, if it’s gonna lead us to Jake then we better fucking fight.” Mike states with absolute certainty and almost on instinct, he aims his gun at one of the soldiers and plants a bullet in their skull. Immediately, the Arachnid staggers back, places a hand over the fresh wound and collapses to the metal ground, going completely limp in seconds.

Logan eyes him with an uneven surprise. “You could have at least told me you were gonna do that.” She clarifies, shaking her head at him.

Mike just smirks faintly. “You have got a lot to learn, kid. Now move your ass and fight.”

Logan rolls her sapphire eyes and steadies her grasp on the gun. Her petite figure leaps out from behind the corner and she immediately starts shooting at the soldiers, as soon as she comes into view and giving them the element of surprise. The remaining Arachnids ready their guns and start releasing bullets aimlessly into the air. Luckily, Logan avoids all of them rolling to the side, as Mike rushes out and shoots at Arachnids, managing to plant a bullet in the leg of one and slow the blood flow with a bullet in arm of another one.

A gruesome scene, it truly is. But it’s the only way Logan can get her husband back and she’s waited too damn long for this. So long that she’s willing to do anything to get him back because nothing else really matters anymore. It was the only thing really going for her in the first place. Nothing will stop her from succeeding in her rescue. Not even Everett Rourke.

One of Arachnids lose their gun and throw all caution to the wind by pouncing at Logan but she dodges it instantly, catching the warning. The soldier staggers slowly and Logan takes advantage of the distraction and weakens the soldier by attacking their leg with her own. She swiftly shoots at the leg and the soldier falls down, clutching the wound. She isn’t prepared to kill anyone who is innocent - the most she’ll do is slow them down and maybe leave a lasting scar.

After what seems like forever, Mike manages to shoot down the last soldier and soon enough, every one of them is either dead or unable to stand or fight any longer. One of them even dared to retreat and Logan hesitantly let them go, knowing that finding Jake is more important than revenge right now.

Mike wipes some sweat off his forehead and offers Logan a high five. “Good job, kid. That was some good defence.” Mike applauds her and she returns with a grateful smile, accepting his high five.

“Not bad either, Mike.” Logan appreciates Mike’s help so much. He’s helped her an endless amount over the last several weeks. He’s stuck by her his entire time and she could not ask for a better person to assist her in saving Jake. They’ve both been on the same page since day one and they’ve been an unstoppable force since.

Logan wouldn’t be this close if it wasn’t for Mike and she’s so thankful for his help. She’ll never be able to stop being grateful for everything he’s done for her.

Out of the blue, Logan feels a vibration going off in her pocket and she feels dazed out of nowhere. Narrowing her ocean eyes, she digs into her pocket and pulls out the golden compass, realising that’s what causing the vibration to occur. The compass’ direction is exploding right now, snapping in every possible area before settling on North again but it doesn’t stop vibrating. It just keeps begging for both Logan and Mike to venture down the hallway, like it’s alerting them that what they’re searching for is extremely close by.

All of a sudden, Mike and Logan catch the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway and muffled voices finally calling out throughout the space, followed by many bullets being released from guns. At first, they can’t quite figure out what it is and Mike firstly assumes that it’s more soldiers so he readies his gun, aiming it directly at the danger that might be lurking around the corner.

Logan still has an instinctive feeling that it isn’t any Arachnids lingering around the corner. No... it’s something else. Someone else. The compass starts to explode again, gesturing towards the heavy footsteps as they continue to get louder and closer - forcing Logan to steady her weapon as well, just in case.

Just when they’re expecting the Arachnids soldiers to revisit them, Logan sees someone else, trudging around the corner and stopping right in their tracks when they spot Logan. They appear just as shocked as she is. A face she’s been begging to see for two fucking months. A face so familiar, it’s actually a mix of pain and delight to see. A face she’s pictured so many times in her head but can now see right before her.

Is it really Jake McKenzie before her very eyes?

At first, Logan believes she’s hallucinating and it almost seems impossible to believe that after all this time, Jake is really standing before her. He looks so much more damaged than she last saw him and it’s clear he’d been so tortured and abused in all this time they’ve been apart. His sandy hair is greased and his cerulean eyes are still as captivating as ever, despite the water pouring from his eyes. Sweat creases his forehead and his lips are chapped and worn out. All kinds of pain wreck his body. Scars, bruises, wounds, burn marks, scratches, scrapes, cuts. All so deep and individual and it pains Logan to see him so ruined. She’s honestly surprised he’s even walking after all he’s been through. Logan’s ocean eyes drift over his damaged demeanour and tears swell her eyes as she tries not to sympathise him.

This is Jake, she tells herself, you should be happy to see him.

Logan’s eyes then snap over to Mike, who is staring at a familiar figure beside Estela with widened hazel eyes. Estela looks just as fucked up as Jake but slightly less affected by torture as he is. Her plump lips are swollen and her brunette hair is tousled from all the efforts. She also contains an endless amount of scars and stings that she may never be able to recover from. She looks battered and beaten but not defeated. No, she still looks completely determined and in the zone.

Mike slowly lowers his gun and Logan does the same, shooting Jake a relieved smile and sighing ever so heavily. Jake drops his weapon, which is a gun that looked like it belonged to one of the Arachnids. He must have stolen it. Classic Jake.

After an endless moment of silence, Logan just rushes over to Jake and leaps into his arms and she’s never felt such relief than she does when she feels Jake’s familiar touch against her once more. Jake barely manages to sweep her off her feet, still affected from the exhaustion his muscles had endured but he doesn’t even care because he finally has Logan back in his arms. Logan wraps Jake in a meaningful hug, all their mixed emotions and longing for each other being poured out in that one emotional moment. She winds her arms around his neck and he tightens his grasp on her, pulling her impossibly close against him.

This is all she’s wanted since she got here. To be with Jake again. That’s all. Just to be with him. What else does she really need?

After what seems like forever, they finally pull away and Jake takes a moment to take in Logan’s exterior, admiring how she’s even more beautiful than he remembers. Wordlessly, he captures her plump lips in a well overdue kiss. A kiss that’s been forever in the making and now they’re here, finally back together. Logan immediately returns the kiss, tangling her fingers in Jake’s greased hair, completely aware that he needs a goddamn shower. But right now, she’s too relieved to care.

The kiss deepens and even more longing starts to shine through, as Logan and Jake savour this moment of being reunited after all this time. Finally... reluctantly... they pull away, knocking their foreheads together as their faces stream with sobs.

“Holy fuck, Princess. Is it really you?” Jake dares to ask, suddenly wondering if this is all one of his dreams or just a form of his imagination. It’s impossible to believe this is real.

Smiling brightly, Logan cups Jake’s cheeks and plants another lingering kiss on his lips. Finally, so much satisfaction just being with each other again. It’s uplifting. And in that moment, they just forget about everything and everyone. All their troubles and their surroundings become nothing but a blur.

“I can’t fucking believe it. It’s you, darlin’. You’re real.” Jake starts to laugh incredulously, unable to believe this is really happening.

“I’m real. I promise. And I’m not ever leaving you again.” Logan vows, not able to let that wonderful smile of hers burn out.

“Baby, you better not or I’m gonna kick some fate’s ass.” Jake jokes but it almost sounds like he’s serious as well. That’s the way his tone comes across. “I fucking love you, Princess. But I do got some questions.”

“Me too. Like what the hell happened to you? They’ve completely ruined you.” Logan acknowledges, grazing her fingers over one of his most prominent scars and tracing her finger over the outline, causing Jake to wince in response.

“Shit... long story, darlin.”

“I’ve got time.”

“No we don’t. Not if we wanna get outta here.”

Logan and Jake suddenly snap their heads in the direction of Estela and Mike, who are wrapped in their own hug but it almost seems tense and rushed. They both seem completely star struck to see one another which is undeniably strange.

Once they pull away, Mike narrows his eyes at Estela.

“I thought you were... dead.” Estela dares to point out, tears threatening to pour from her dark eyes.

“And I thought you had amnesia.” Mike counters, folding his arms at Estela and there’s a clear tension between the two of them and not the good time.

Mike suddenly catches Logan and Jake staring at them and Jake gets the idea to hesitantly break from Logan’s grasp and wrap Mike up in a hug.

“Missed ya, kid.” Jake points out, taking a deep breath as they end the hug.

“You have no idea, Grandpa.”

“Nice reunion and all but... what do we do now?” Estela questions out of nowhere and that’s when everyone realises they really don’t have a plan.

“Escape. That’s the main goal. Fight any Arachnids in our path.” Logan clarifies, raising her gun and scanning it thoughtfully. While she speaks, Jake entwines their hands together, needing physical contact with her just to settle the doubts in his mind that she isn’t safe or really there.

“But there’s so many of them. Besides, you ain’t gonna get anywhere using those useless things.” Estela responds, retrieving two extra Arachnid guns from her duffel bag and tossing them to both Mike and Logan. They catch them with ease, admiring the pieces of weaponry.

“Damn... did Rourke make these?” Mike asks, slightly impressed.

“He can make anything with all the shit he owns.” Estela states, rolling her eyes at the mention of her own father.

“We just gotta start running then. We ain’t got nothing to lose.” Jake starts to talk over the plan, keeping close to Logan as he continues to speak. “Just fuck shit up and don’t die.”

“We can’t just charge in there, genius. We gotta show them the element of surprise.” Estela interrupts, shooting Jake a disapproving look. “If you wanna protect Logan, you gotta listen to me.”

“I don’t need protecting. I’m stronger than all three of you.” Logan furrows his brows at the assumption that she needs protecting.

“Emotionally, yes. Physically? Not so much.”

Before Logan can protest, everyone grits their teeth at the sound of a slow applause interrupting their debate and plan preparation. They all barely manage to tilt their heads before they catch sight of the person they hate most in this world.

Everett Rourke - stood idly in front of him, almost as if he’s asking to be shot.

“I know you’re all unhappy to see me. But I just have to say, look at you all. Back together again. What a relief!” Rourke exaggerates his tone as he speaks, a mocking laugh escaping him as he smirks deviously, especially when Estela almost charged forward only to be held back by Mike.

“You bastard.” Jake curses under his breath, quickly stepping in front of Logan and arching his brows at the unpleasant sight of Rourke.

“Now, now, Jacob. What I did to you was fair.”

“Really? Endless torture is fair to you? Making an army out of innocent creatures is fair?” Logan pipes up, raising the fresh gun she’s been given and aiming it directly at Rourke.

“Ah, Logan. How I’ve missed you. I noticed Rebecca betrayed me just to bring you back to your oh so brave soldier. It’s ridiculous and trust me, Rebecca will be punished when I find her. Right now, I get to focus on you.” Rourke explains, retrieving something from the inside pocket of his jacket and he smirks when everyone realises what it is.

“I-Is that a bomb?” Logan reacts, trying so hard to keep steady as Jake attempts to calm her by gently shaking her shoulders and stop her from shivering.

“Of course. This entire place will be no more in exactly thirty minutes.” Rourke clarifies, attaching the bomb to the wall and activating it. With that, the countdown starts.

“What about your army and your precious Project Janus?” Estela enquires, remembering how she came upon what she now knows is a do over of Project Janus.

“Easy. Both sections are sheltered. You really underestimate me, Estela. You always have. No matter... you’ll all be dead soon anyway.”

“No we won’t. We’ll get out of here. We will. And when we do, we’ll hunt you down and kill you.” Logan vows, gritting his teeth at Rourke and forming a deadly scowl that ruins the innocence in her natural expression completely.

“Good luck with that. Meanwhile, I’ll be taking over the world and you’ll have no power. Since you’ll all be dead soon anyway... I may as well give you a head start.” Rourke threatens, retrieving his own gun and aiming it directly at Jake’s head, who glares in response.

Logan’s ocean eyes widen in response and suddenly she’s scared. “You won’t dare.” She hisses, trying to gain back her confidence.

“Oh I will. Say goodbye to your precious pilot, Logan.” Rourke bids Jake farewell and unleashes a bullet with the purpose to end Jake’s life.

Logan immediately darts for Jake and out of the blue everything seems to go on in slow motion. But Logan is still moving at the same speed. It’s almost like a certain energy within her has slowed down time and she has enough extra milliseconds to step before the bullet and let it take her instead.

Hands outstretched, she prepares for strong impact and she closes her eyes, unable to prepare for pain. But nothing happens. No... Jake is still there. She is still there. Rourke is still there.

The bullet is still in the air... trapped in between Logan’s fingers. She couldn’t believe it. She actually stopped the bullet... but it still needs to hit someone because it technically has only been delayed... not stopped.

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vrenaewrites · 5 years

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Songs of Accidental Evils: Part 1.

Last year, I did a series on this blog where I talked about the playlist behind my first book, CIVIL BLOOD. I got a lot of good feedback from that and people overwhelmingly wanted me to do it again for the sequel, ACCIDENTAL EVILS. This book has a much darker tone, and its playlist was easily split into three parts: the general vibe of the book, songs related to River (the male MC), and songs related to Fina (the female MC).

In no particular order, these are the general vibe songs. If you don’t care for an explanation and just wanna hear the songs, here’s a link to the part 1 playlist!

1. Staring at the Sun – TV On the Radio.

This is one of my favorite songs point blank, period. The image of staring into the sun, in the ocean, with the water coming up to your neck, is so haunting to me. Especially because there’s a lot of talk about drowning in this book. Without spoilers, the line “note the trees because the dirt is temporary” is my favorite line (it was my tumblr bio when I was in high school) and hugely influential to a major plot crumb I drop in this book for book 3.

2. Born To Die – Lana Del Rey.

A perfect song to be depressed to. “Sometimes Love is not enough and the road gets tough, I don’t know why.” This is such a perfect representation of how the relationship in both River and Fina’s families start to break down due to the trauma both of them face.

3. Sail – Awolnation.

This song, despite its meme potential, is haunting. It reminds me of being abducted by aliens, largely because of its music video but also because of the sonic surges of sound. There’s alien motifs in AE, but also the idea of loss of identity - as if you’ve been abducted and replaced - is prevalent throughout.

4. Rolling In the Deep – John Legend.

“The scars of your love remind me of us, they keep me thinking that we almost had it all.” “You’ll pay me back in kind and reap just what you’ve sown, you’re gonna wish you never had met me.” You could hear this from either perspective and it would make sense, depending on who you direct it towards. And the John Legend acapella version is just superior, sorry.

5. Push – Matchbox Twenty.

A song about using people and not feeling bad about it because you yourself have been used. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been really loved by a hand that’s touched me, and I feel like something’s gonna give, and I’m a little bit angry.” There’s a lot of anger in this book. And this song is angry enough for everyone.

6. Blow it All Away – Sia.

This was the first song on the first ever playlist for a CIVIL BLOOD sequel. Before Sia blew up, this and Breathe Me were her only songs people really knew. “Where there’s ice to be found, the seed lies underground.” This song is full of bitterness and darkness. Just like this book.

7. My Mistakes Were Made For You – The Last Shadow Puppets.

“Around your crooked conscience she will wind. And it’s a lot to ask her not to sting, and give her less than everything, innocence and arrogance intwined, in the filthiest of minds.” This song is about a wicked girl who turns a good man to bad things. There’s a lot of that thinking going around in this book.

8. White Blank Page - Mumford and Sons.

“A white blank page, and a swelling rage. You did not think when you sent me to the brink. You desired my attention but denied my affection.” This is a song I like to call...the After song. Spoilers if I say any more than that. But yes. The After.

9. Ghost - Halsey.

There’s a lot of ghost metaphor happening around this book, specifically around the rock in Possum Lake. Lots of ghosts of could bes. “I’m searching for something that I can’t reach.”

10. Holly – Sleigh Bells.

“Wasted all day killing all the Capulets.” “Never need to ask, we’ll tell you who’s boss.” Sleigh Bells sleigh my life (lol get it.)

11. XO - Fall Out Boy.

A song about a love gone real, real wrong. A song full of regret and fury and self-hate. “I hoped you choked and crashed your car.” “I left my conscience pressed between the pages of the Bible in the drawer, what did it ever do for me?”

12. Honey - The Hush Sound.

“You’ve got a dark heart. You’ve got a cold kiss.” “You always let me down.” This is a song about being fed up with someone who you used to love.

13. Molasses - The Hush Sound.

This, to me, is a song about revenge. About darkness hunting someone down and all the optimism being slowly crushed out of them. “Today, there is a cold moon rising and you wanted something better but tonight, you know you’ll never find it.”

14. Something From Nothing - Foo Fighters.

Fury. Pure fury. Imagery of fire, rivers, blood. Complete annihilation. “But in the end we all, come from what’s come before” is a huge plot point.

15. Hemorrhage – Fuel.

“Tread the waters til the depths give up their dead. What did you expect to find? Was it something you left behind?” The feeling of being forgotten, and trying to forget yourself, only to be reminded in the worst way at the worst times.

16. Green Light - Lorde.

“I do my makeup in somebody else’s car” reminds me of Sparrow and the way she and River drift apart during some of this book. “Well those rumors they have big teeth, hope they bite you. Thought you said that you would always be in love, but you’re not in love no more.” Is a back and forth in my mind between two characters. (Spoilers if I say who)

17. Shutter Island - Jessie Reyez.

The sarcasm and bite in this song is so good. A perfect song to descend into madness with. “Goodness gracious, you’re amazing. According to you I’m a lucky lady.”

18. Somebody That I Used to Know (acapella) - Gotye ft. Kimbra.

Ten years after its release and I still cry every single time I hear this song. It’s just plain sad. And acapella, the harmonies knock me off my feet every time. “You didn’t have to cut me off, make out like it never happened and that we were nothing. And I don’t even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger and it feels so rough.”

19. February Stars - Foo Fighters.

A song about barely being okay, but being okay nonetheless. “You ask for walls, I’ll build them higher. We’ll lie in the shadows of them all. I’d stand but they’re much too tall.”

20. Unknown Song - Milky Chance.

“Your friends are gonna know, you’re fucked up by yourself. They’ll leave you all alone, and now you’re on your own.” When people who have never been alone are forced to be alone, you learn a lot about them. And that’s all I’ll say on that.

21. Hash Pipe - Weezer.

Just an aggressive song for an aggressive book.

22. Honestly (Encore) - Gabbie Hanna.

Woof this whole song 1:32 of angry. I can’t even pick one lyric, but the opening is gold: “Cross my heart and hope to die you never cross my fucking mind.”

23. 3:16am - Jhene Aiko.

This song breaks my heart. Her sweet little voice kills me. “I do not feel the fear of falling, thought I could fly. It didn’t go well, but oh well. And what do you know? I’m right back where I was before.”

24. When Doves Cry (Cover) - Diamond White.

Do I have to explain why this song is on here? The lyrics are gut-wrenching and Diamond’s slowed down vocals over an orchestral track are unreal.

25. Blue Monday (Cover) - Hannah Peel.

“How does it feel to treat me like you do? When you laid your hands upon me, and told me who you are?” Spoilers.

26. Debaser - The Pixies.

When Bernardo and Sparrow are in the car in the beginning of Act I, and when Sparrow and River are in the car at the end of Act I, this is the song playing. Bernardo loves The Pixies.

#fiction writer #writers blog #writers of tumblr #am writing #writer woes #writers be like #ya fiction #ya paranormal #ya thriller #young adult #playlist #writing playlist #thistlewolf #civil blood #accidental evils

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Undone, Chapter 19 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 19 of UNDONE, our slow burn Bitney lesbian AU. Here’s a link to the previous chapters.

Summary: You never know what the final straw will be…

Thank you so much to @missdandee for her incredible beta help. XO

TW: Emotional abuse, intimidation, gaslighting, PTSD

***

Courtney chuckles to herself as a familiar hook starts blasting from her car speakers. She merges onto Washington Boulevard towards the studio, automatically thinking about how much shit Bianca gave her for having the song on her playlist. ‘What kind of lesbian are you, anyway?’

The kind of lesbian who fucking loves ABBA. And not ashamed of it.

Half past twelve Watchin' the late show in my flat all alone How I hate to spend the evening on my own...

The song is speaking to her today more than ever. If it was a month ago, she’d be so delighted to tell Bianca about it coming on that she might have pulled over to text her. Or else, she’d race into the wardrobe trailer breathlessly the second she arrived on set.

Autumn winds blowin' outside the window As I look around the room And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom

There’s won’t be any giggling about the song (or Courtney’s cheesy taste) in the wardrobe trailer today. Courtney takes a deep breath and sings along.

“There's not a soul out there...No one to hear my praaaaaaayer!”

It’s been getting more and more difficult for Courtney to hold onto her anger. Ever since she broke down at Sasha and Shea’s, she’s had to acknowledge that the worst part of this whole ordeal wasn’t losing the romantic fantasy. It was losing her friend. Someone she relied on, someone she trusted.

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Won't somebody help me Chase the shadows away Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Take me through the darkness To the break of the day

Courtney leans her head back, gripping the steering wheel tightly. She still feels like she’s been used and toyed with and lied to. But in spite of everything, she misses Bianca. Maybe that makes the whole thing even worse.

It’s easy for Courtney to shrug and move on. Aloofness comes naturally to her--it’s just not coming this time.

***

Bianca had been successful at minimizing her interactions with Courtney. She’d been getting all of her alterations done ahead of time, letting Jamie handle the fittings and pictures. Today, though, something is wrong. Jamie sends her to see Bianca, who frowns when she sees her. The dress gaps at her waist, like it hasn’t been tailored at all.

Avoiding eye contact, Bianca wraps a measuring tape around her waist.

“Did you lose weight?” she asks, her tone almost accusatory.

“Umm...maybe? I did a juice cleanse,” Courtney says. She chews on her lip, feeling like she’s being scolded, as Bianca writes down the new numbers and starts to pin her dress. Unsure why she’s feeling so defensive, she adds, “It can’t be that much.”

“Mmhmm.”

Bianca’s face is solemn as she works, and Courtney feels a rush of emotion. Only it’s not anger, like it’s been for weeks--or sadness, like she wallowed in last weekend. It’s more like pity.

Courtney’s gone through many ups and downs in her life, but one thing that’s always stayed pretty consistent is her honestly with herself. She can’t imagine what Bianca is going through right now, keeping all of her feelings bottled up inside. It must be exhausting.

So she tries to lighten the mood, saying, “You should really be telling me that I didn’t need to lose any weight. That I was just perfect before.”

Bianca doesn’t crack a smile, and Courtney deflates a little.

“You know, when someone fishes for compliments, it’s polite to humor them.”

Bianca looks up at her. Her beautiful eyes are dull, joyless, and it breaks Courtney’s heart all over again.

“You didn’t need to lose weight,” she intones robotically.

Something is going on. Courtney is sure of it. Something beyond the two of them. Bianca just doesn’t seem like the confident, sarcastic, tough bitch that Courtney knows she is.

“Well…” Courtney falters a bit.

Everything she wants to say is too much, or not enough. Talk to me. Please.

“Thanks.”

Bianca nods and goes back to work.

***

Why does this keep happening to her?

For the third day in a row, Bianca sits in the garage in her parked car, unable to force herself to head upstairs.

Things with Jared haven’t even been that bad, if she’s honest. They’re mostly avoiding each other these days. They talk about what to eat for dinner. Their work schedules. The fucking weather. It’s as if there’s been a very tentative truce, a fragile agreement not to get too deep.

Bianca knows that he takes her depression personally. That he sees any unhappiness as an attack. He’s made that clear a million times over the years - if she’s not happy, then he has Failed and therefore she Better Be Happy.

But lately, for whatever reason, he seems to have backed off. He’s giving her space, and for that she’s grateful--even if her gratitude is accompanied by a constant, nagging fear. This respite won’t last forever. When’s he going to snap? What’s gonna make him snap? Bianca feels sick with worry, just thinking about it.

And then of course, there’s the guilt. The ever-present guilt, the feeling that she’s not enough - as a woman, as a wife, as a partner. Now compounded by the fact that he hasn’t told him about her pregnancy. The doctor confirmed it this week, and for some reason, she can’t bring herself to share the news.

She hasn’t told anyone. Not even Latrice. Not even her sisters.

Why hasn’t she told them? Why can’t she tell him?

She sniffles, realizing that tears have been leaking from her eyes. She pulls down the visor and wipes her face, carefully fixing her eye makeup, taking a few more minutes to gather herself together.

Before she heads inside, she stares at herself in the mirror, plastering a smile across her face. Yikes. She sighs and snaps the visor shut.

***

With Jamie gone for the morning, Bianca is forced to do all the check-ins. She’s clearly trying to avoid more interaction with Courtney by calling her in along with three other actors. But after everyone else is gone, Courtney returns to the trailer. With the transparent excuse of having a loose thread hanging from her sleeve.

Bianca clips it quickly, immediately going back to her sketchbook.

Courtney walks slowly to the door, reaching for the handle, then turns around.

“Hey, B?” Her voice is soft, almost a plea.

“Yeah?”

Bianca doesn’t look up, and Courtney hesitates. She probably should have figured out what she was gonna say ahead of time, but as usual, she’s flying by the seat of her pants. Fuck.

After violently flipping to a new page in her sketchbook, Bianca asks, “What?”

“I just...I just want you to know that I’m still here, if you ever need anything.” Courtney swallows and continues. “I know you might not, and that’s okay, obviously, but if you do...I’m here. That-that’s all.” She takes a deep breath, as if trying to decide if that is, in fact, all she has to say.

For once, Bianca doesn’t have a smartass comment. Instead, she gives one brief nod, and a simple, “Thanks.”

Courtney nods back, giving her a look that’s almost a smile, and leaves.

***

“Latrice?”

It’s late. Too late to be calling on a weekday, especially given the time difference. Nonetheless, when Bianca calls her friend while taking the dogs out, she answers immediately.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“How do you know something’s wrong?” Bianca tries desperately to sound lighthearted. She fails.

“Well, it’s almost 3 am. Something better be wrong.”

Bianca laughs, and that’s what it takes to break the dam wide open. Tears are falling now and she doesn’t know why, doesn’t even remember why she called.

“Talk to me, B.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Bianca admits, sitting down on the curb, sniffling, wiping frantically at her eyes. “Tell me what to do. Please.”

There’s a very brief pause, and then Latrice answers her in a somber voice.

“Pack a bag. Just...pack a bag. Enough for a week. Keep it in your car.”

Bianca takes a shaky breath.

“You don’t have to make any decisions right now, okay? Just pack the bag.”

Bianca nods, which she realizes is stupid. Latrice can’t see her.

“Are you still there, baby?”

“Yeah,” she managed to choke out.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It’s okay.”

For a few moments, they sit on the phone in silence, as Bianca’s breathing returns to normal, tears slowing to a manageable trickle.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

***

Three more hours, Bianca tells herself. Just three more hours.

She’s been carefully packing a suitcase for Jared to take on his business trip, counting down the minutes. She can’t help but feel guilty about the utter relief coursing through her veins, knowing that he’s going to be out of town for the next week and a half. Nonetheless, that’s the reality of the situation. She’d already steamed and pressed three suits for the garment bag, while he met the boys for lunch to finalize their presentation.

Bianca hears the front door open and continues to fill little travel bottles for his toiletries bag.

“B! Where are you?!”

He bursts into the bathroom, staggering up to her. As he wraps his arms around her from behind, Bianca can instantly smell the booze on his breath.

“Hey. I’ve almost got your suitcase together. Why don’t you go check it out?”

“I’d rather check you out,” he growls into her ear, hands inching up under her top. She tries to wriggle away, but his grip is solid.

“I’m serious! I don’t want to forget anything. I packed enough for over a week, but is that-”

“I’m sure it’s perfect, baby. Fuck, you smell so good.” He bites at her neck, yanking down the cups of her bra.

“You should really check, because I wasn’t sure if you-

“Bianca, Bianca...I don’t care.” He spins her around, pinning her to the counter. “I’m gonna be gone for almost two weeks. So...come on, let’s just...have a good time, before I have to leave…”

“Jared, stop!” Bianca pushes him off, heart racing.

He glares at her, eyes cold and eerily still.

Bianca swallows, picking up the toiletries bag and clutching it to her chest.

“I just think I should finish…”

“Why do you always make me feel like goddamn monster?”

“I’m sorry, I-” Bianca flinches as he reaches a hand up to touch her face, and he grits his teeth, slamming a fist down on the counter.

“Do think I’m going to fucking hit you?!” he shouts.

The bag slips from her hands and she covers her face, fear and humiliation flooding through her whole body.

“Do you know what it fucking does to me when you act like this?!” Jared screams, inches from her face, cheeks red with rage.

The room is too small, his voice is too loud, the air is too thick for Bianca to get a breath. Her skin is hot and itchy all over as she tries not to break, treacherous tears collecting in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare, don’t you dare fucking cry!” he continues, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You better fucking stop, stop acting like a goddamn victim--because this is your fault, you are the one doing this to me!”

Bianca opens up her mouth, trying to force out an apology, but the words won’t come out.

“Fuck!” Jared screams, and with that, he storms from the room, slamming the door behind him. Bianca takes a few gasping breaths, leaning forward against the sink, unable to face her reflection in the mirror.

You’re okay, you’re okay...

She rinses her face with cold water and then goes back to methodically packing Jared’s things, keeping herself calm by going over the checklist in her mind. Shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, toothpaste, razors...

Soon, her mind is comfortably numb, reviewing what she’s packed already. She can hear Jared banging around the kitchen.

Ties, underwear, socks, T-Shirts…

The TV turns on, volume turned up all the way, some garbage reality show about fishing or hunting or living in the woods.

Jeans, shorts, sweatshirt, extra charger, power adapter...

The dogs can sense her anxiety. They paw at her legs, whining slightly, and she stops what she’s doing, sitting and lifting them onto the bed. She’s broken out of her trance now, as tears begin to fall once again. Sammy licks at her face while Dede curls in her lap.

Bianca tries to breathe, but she can’t seem to get it together. She takes the phone out of her pocket to check the time. Two more hours. Her heart is racing again. Fuck.

I just want you to know that I’m still here, if you ever need anything.

She opens her contacts, finger hovering over her name. She shouldn’t message her. What would she even say? Right now everything feels uncertain, vision blurry with tears and the room tilting off its axis. But one thing is definitely certain, and that’s that she doesn’t deserve any kindness from Courtney.

“Okay. I’m fine now.”

Bianca’s head snaps up, startled, phone slipping from her fingers and skidding across the floor. Jared is standing in the doorway, swaying slightly, a glass of what looks like whiskey in his hand. His lids droop and he’s got a placid smile on his face.

“Who were you calling, B?” he asks, taking a sip from the tumbler.

Her mind races, but not fast enough, and by the time she gets a message from her brain to her limbs to go pick up the phone, he’s already scooping it lazily off the ground.

“Jared, please give it back…” Heat creeps into her face and ears, stomach feeling like it’s being twisted in a thousand little knots.

“Oh, your little girlfriend, huh?”

“Jared-”

“No, it’s cool. It’s not a bad idea, actually.” Jared grins devilishly and presses a button on the phone, holding it up to his ear.

Bianca chokes back a sob. “What are you doing, please-”

“Shh, it’s ringing…”

Courtney slides the groceries into her car as the phone begins to buzz in her pocket. She rolls her eyes. Probably a telemarketer or something, but she gives the screen a quick glance as she shuts the back door. Her heart leaps when she sees the name on the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Hey sexy. What are you up to?”

It takes Courtney a few seconds to recognize Jared’s voice. Her heart begins to beat faster. She can hear the slur. Why the fuck does he have Bianca’s phone?

“Where’s Bianca?” she asks, then adds, “It’s a little early to be this drunk.”

Courtney can hear him chuckle, and then Bianca’s voice in the background, barely, saying, “Please, stop.”

“Well, you know, I was just thinking, you should come over. Because you’re fucking hot, and fun, unlike the frigid bitch standing next to me-”

“Put Bianca on the phone, now,” Courtney demands.

“Whatever.”

Courtney hears shuffling, but she doesn’t wait for Bianca’s voice before asking, “B? Are you there? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m...I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bothering you. I-”

She’s clearly been crying. Or, she’s still crying. Courtney’s chest constricts. She grips her car key in her hand, leaning on the door for support, trying to breathe evenly.

“It’s okay. Um.” What can she say? What can she do? How can she save her from this god-awful nightmare?

“Okay, well. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“WAIT!” Courtney’s mind is racing, a million miles a minute. She can’t let her get off the phone, not now, not when her voice sounds like that. Not when his voice sounded like that. “Don’t...don’t hang up, please. I need to ask you...”

Courtney can hear a shaky breath, then her voice, small and tired. “Yeah?”

“Um…I...I have this gift certificate. For a spa in Koreatown. Um. I was about to go, and...you’re on the way, so, I could...they supposedly do really amazing facials.”

“Facials.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about skin care. You know, you’re obviously really negligent about exfoliation and you’re not getting any younger. So, you should come with me.” Courtney is babbling, desperate. “Apparently they have some kind of miracle treatment that-”

“Courtney, that sounds…like the last thing I-”

“Bianca, you’re not listening to me!” Courtney’s voice is starting to get shrill. “I’m saying, that if, for whatever reason, you want to get out tonight, I can pick you up, and we can go to the spa. You know, because, you obviously really need a facial and I’m just trying to be a good friend here.”

Courtney presses a hand over her eyes. Why did she think this would work? She’s such a fucking moron.

There’s a long pause. “Facials.”Her voice is a hoarse whisper.

Courtney’s breath hitches as she says, “Yeah.”

“Okay. Yeah. You’re right, that’s...a good idea.”

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes,” Courtney tells her, relief filling her lungs with oxygen.

***

Bianca stands on the curb, a purse over one shoulder, duffel bag from her trunk over the other, dog carrier clutched in her hands. Dark sunglasses obscure most of her face. Her heart pounds as she prays for Courtney to come quickly, before Jared puts the pieces together and comes downstairs to find her.

Convincing him that this was a normal outing had required epic levels of patience and self-control. She’d promised, she swore. Promised Courtney that she’d check out this spa with her. She was so sorry to run out like this, right before he has to leave, but his suitcase and garment bag were ready to go.

Oh, the dogs? Well, don’t worry about them. The spa is next door to a doggy daycare. Yeah! It’s so convenient! And they love getting to play with the other little dogs.

Have a safe flight...I’m sorry too.

Yes, text me when you land. Of course I love you.

When Courtney’s Prius pulls up, Bianca races to the door, flinging her duffel bag into the backseat and getting in as fast as possible.

“Are you alrigh-”

“Yeah. We’re not really going to Koreatown, right?”

She can’t bear to look into Courtney’s eyes, so she stares straight ahead, buckling her seatbelt. Courtney pauses for a moment, considering her response.

“We can go wherever you want,” she finally says, softly.

Bianca glances in the mirror, uneasiness growing as she catches her building looming in the background. She presses two fingers to her temple, swallowing hard.

“Just drive.”

#rpdr fanfiction #bianca del rio #courtney act #bitney #latrice royale #oc #lesbian au #fluff #angst #undone #stephanie #veronica #tw emotional abuse #concrit welcome

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