Jake Donfort - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

Part three of this headcanon series

|| Part one, part two ||

• "What you looking at?" She smiled, setting the glass down, waterdrops running down around it. Jake shook his head in response, continuing to study every move of hers. Mc didn't mind; ever since they met, she learnt how to read him like he does with her. Without words and a lot of patience.

• Jake waited until the last spoon was clean too, then grabbed her hand, leading her out of the room.

• The symphony of night was played by a chorus of frogs and violin of crickets, the air fresh and crisp, full of the scent of the nearby lake. The street was quiet and peaceful as they walked in the dark.

• They didn't speak now either, but this silence told no story. Mc was forced to break it. "Let's go to the lake." She pointed in the right direction.

• They walked through the streets in silence, passing fewer and fewer houses. The symphony of the night grew stronger by the water, and the hissing trees and undergrowth joined in as well.

• Taking a seat on a nearby bench for a long moment, perhaps hours, minutes, years... they didn't know for how long.

• "Did you really mean it?" She asked, observing the surface of the water in front of her. "What you said in the morning." Her eyes darted over to the man, but he didn't move.

• Mc carefully slid closer on the bench until she felt his warmth on her skin. "Because when I'll say it, I mean it," she whispered. "I love you too."

• Kiss. That was all she remembered from that night, sitting on the bench by the lake, until her body began to cool down and his kisses could no longer provide enough warmth. Mesmerizing, intoxicating feeling of his lips against hers, closer than they have ever been, and she really didn't want it to end.

• She and Jake walked back to the hut, their fingers entwined all the way, and the woman wasn't the least bit concerned about what they will say to the others in the morning. Probably nothing; they will figure it out on their own anyway.

Part four of this headcanon series

|| Part one, part two, part three ||

• After two days, they started getting suspicious.

• Firat, Lilly noticed something was wrong with her brother; he was calmer and more nervous at the same time than usual, it just depended on whether Mc was in the room or not. But she said nothing, silently observing the signs.

• Jessy vocalized her happines more excitedly than this, when after Lilly she also slowly realized what was going on, but Mc tied it to her soul, that she will tell her everything she wants if she keeps her mouth shut. The redhead did as a true friend.

• Slowly they all found out about the two's little secret, but no one initiated the confrontation. What could they have confronted? It wasn't their business. But that doesn't mean curiosity didn't kill them.

• One night, when they were drinking by the campfire, Dan couldn't take it anymore. Taking a big sip from his whiskey, he surveyed the silent couple. "I'm just saying," he pointed in Jake's direction, "if you don't watch out for the little detective, hackerman, you're going to be in trouble."

• After the 'father's blessing', everyone suddenlx found their voice at the same time, Cleo a little annoyed that the bisquits she made yesterday were gone. Mc and Jake looked at the group with a bit of an embarassed awe, not understanding what was so celebratory about this.

• "It was about time," Lilly smiled, "it was getting annoying with you two avoiding each other, but Lyra waking up in a different room every morning. Like two teens keeping secrets."

• If she could, Mc would have slid down the log, but she had to make do with burying her face in her hands. "It's not because—"

• "Another bottle of wine? I'll bring it right away," Phil suddenly jumped up, and as the back door closed behind him, Jessy, as if she had just realized, hurried in after her brother.

• Mc found the scene strange, since there was still plenty of wine in their glasses, but was glad that the attention was off her.

• "Phil's always been quite... that way." Cleo swirled the liquid in hand, as Hannah added softly, "Like her sister, acting on emotions."

• This was agreed upon. Mc stole a glance at Jake, who sat next to her perhaps with a more relaxed posture tonight. It was comforting, as was when she closed the bedroom door behind her at night. They were finally alone, in silence. And the best part – she thought to herself as she snuggled into Jake's bed – was that now she doesn't have to sneak down the stairs in darkness if she wants to fall asleep calm.

Unforgettable night – an unfortunate visit to bar Aurora

Summary: Paying a visit to Aurora, since Jake has given no signs for months, and suddenly free alcohol doesn't sound that bad after all

Characters: Lyra Ambrose (my Mc from The afterfire), Phil Hakwins, Jessy Hawkins

Warning: use of alcohol, sexual related content, vivid description of intoxicated state

___________________________________________

"It's only a two hours car ride." Lyra paced the living room as she nervously tried to convince herself. She won't deny, the thought of a persuasive PowerPoint slideshow have crossed her mind, but that might have been a bit too sick, even from her. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair and stared out into the late afternoon sun that completely covered the street.

"Let's think rationally. What reason do I have to go there?"

What reason does she have? Jake hasn't given a sign of himself in months, not even that he's alive. She was aware of what had happened that night in the mine; the news was full of it, just as the German government itself was puzzled by the incident. The thought, the guilt that she should have been the one to be there didn't let her rest. Richy wanted her to come. All these thoughts embedded themselves in her everyday life, even at night, and dreams suddenly turned into nightmares full of terror.

She couldn't take it anymore, no matter how much she convinced herself, or even Jessy, she started to give in under the weight. The redhead was the only one who knew about it; she shut herself away from the others, refused to hear anything about them. Everything took a toll on Jessy at least as much, and on top of that, even keeping a secret fell on her shoulders. This also made Lyra feel terrible. She would have preferred to escape from the world.

And what was she about to do? Go to the very place all her problems originate from.

"This will be just one night..." she picked up the car keys from the dresser and put them back. "I can't hide here forever, waiting to wither away."

But you know well you deserve it. The evil little voice in her head spoke. This voice had guided the longest six months of her life so far, and before she could surrender to it again, she grabbed her jacket and bag, shoving the key in hee back pocket. She calmed herself down the whole way with the thought that nothing would go wrong, and suddenly the promise of free alcohol didn't sound that bad after all.

* * * * *

The woman pulled into the parking lot next to the building in total darkness. Even from the road, the illuminated sign was clearly visible; the Aurora welcomed those who wanted to have fun with open arms tonight. Carefully pulling on the worn-out jacket, she started towards the entrance wearing the blouse she had just put on for the first, and most certainly for the last time in her life.

Uncomfortable and too cut out, she thought. She sneaked through the door and immediately stopped, all she could manage to say was: "Damn thing this is."

The music was louder than it should have been for the ears, she could almost feel the blood rushing in hee eardrums. At some places, the lights were as blinding as on the sign outside, the inhalation of the smell of alcohol and people was unavoidable. This wasn't a nice little bar where you sit at the end of the day, Lyra realized, but a party place. Why though, hardly any young people live here!

She ventured inside, since she can't stand leaning against the door. She fought her way through the people – not many, but there were noticeably enough to block her way – and reached the bar, where a man was wiping the glasses deep in thought. Lyra plopped down on a chair and waited patiently for him to notice. As she did so, she scanned the tattooed black haired from head to toe. All his movements were measured and determined as he placed the whiskey glasses one by one. He looked quite like a bartender, she came to the conclusion.

"What can I give you?" He asked without looking at her. Lyra watched from the side as his Adam's apple bounced up and down his tattooed neck. It's pretty scary that someone can stand someone drawing it full on there. The guy must be a sociopath.

"Something pretty strong and a lot."

At that, he suddenly turned his head to the woman who was resting her elbow on the counter. He, too, studied her, brows narrowed in thought. Or maybe he was surprised? Did he find her question unclear?

"Lyra, am I wrong?"

"Nince meeting you in person, Phil." She held out her hand for him to shake.

"Surprising you found your way here after all these months."

Lyra watched as he set to make her drink, trying to answer with a good composure. "I remembered your invitation. Would've been rude to forget about it." The silence was long, so before it got awkward, she quickly asked, "Have you talked to Jessy?"

"I should've?"

She stared back at him in disbelief. "She's sister! She's in a terrible state because of the loss of a friend, you emotionally cold prick! Of course–"

"Quiet," he hushed, nervously running his eyes over the crowd. Even if they wanted to, they wouldn't have heard anything. If it wasn't for the music, then because of the alcohol. "And don't call me a prick."

The woman forced herself to calm down. "I'll call you whatever the fuck I want since I take better care of her than her own brother."

Phil shrugged and reached for another bottle, but Lyra didn't even have time to finish the first glass. "What are you doing?"

"Drink." He pointed at the ingredients. "This is my job."

"I didn't ask for a new one."

"You're my guest, drink as much as I make. Drink as much of them as you can, of course."

As if this were a challenge, Lyra took the half-finished cocktail from him and drank it up with two sips. Phil watched in amusement how that woman whom he just met in person – a rather pretty one, he had to admit – was so easily offended.

"Better give me a shot. Or two. This," she pointed to the now empty elegant glass, "was nothing."

And it went on like this for long hours. Phil didn't talk to anyone all night except the increasingly talkative woman who was drinking alcohol like others eat sugar. As the numbness began to take control over her body and soul, she began to feel better and better, and she didn't understand why she hadn't done this before. It seemed much easier to forget about Jake and the problems, even the fact that she was very much in Duskwood, from where she would have to drive home.

All she could see was Phil and the liquids floating in the lights, more and more of which she was putting into herself than it was in the bottles. The glasses just piled up in front of her, Phil after a while watching her in concern, which easily faded as he listened to her words.

"Tell me," she tried to swallow, but her dry throat didn't let her, "is this place always like this?"

The man laughed and looked at the woman and the dancers behind her. "No, not at all. As a matter of fact, you're in luck today, because I don't often organize such fast-paced evenings. But I did it by popular demand, you actually just wandered into a guy's birthday party."

The realization crept into her brain so slowly it was ridiculous. She lowered her head to the counter in shame, muttering a line in annoyance until two warm hands lifted it up.

"Get your pretty head up from there ."

"I'm sorry, I–"

"There's nothing to be sorry about, I was already bored to death here. They aren't very talkative with the bartender. But you," he poked a finger at her forehead, Lyra going cross-eyed to see what's there that he needed to point it out, "you came and saved me, love."

"I'm not love," she grimaced, watching the fingers move away.

"Well, we can easily help with that."

She hummed and nodded, as if she understood anything from Phil's complicated words. She reached for another shot, the sips traveling down her throat more and more slowly. What time was it? She needs to go home.

"I'm now... going home now– okay?"

"You're not going yet, Lyra, stay a while."

"I'm not going? Now... why wouldn't I go?" She looked at the grinning man in confusion.

"Because I don't want you to yet."

The bartender again turned the woman's gaze towards him, which had been wandering towards the exit. He was out of the counter in a few long steps, plopped down on a chair next to Lyra, taking a sip of a drink. Lyra looked at him with interest, since he shouldn't be there now, he was standing somewhere else before. She found another glass in her hand, this time for unknown reasons. Without thinking, she chugged it, an unpleasant feeling running down the back of her neck, burning into her lungs. Then another one. She could barely swallow the honey-colored liquid, a new one was already there, like some kind of miraculous magic, recharging itself.

"Maybe I should some water–"

"Shush, we don't give that here."

Oh. So no water, okay. Okay. Okay?

She felt fingers on her own, but they were definitely not hers. One, two...six, nine, that's twelve, she counted the body parts to herself, the rising warmth that made the hair stand up even where it didn't touch. Eagerly, ever higher.

Phil stroked the flushed face, the touch seeming both soft and hungry, far from tender... Lyra stared down at the remaining brownish drink in her hands, debating whether to drink it, when she heard a deep voice so close to her it felt like it's coming from her very own body.

"You're such a lovely young lady, such a waste you come from so far away. We can't let you drive tonight, can we?"

"No..." she mumbled, because honestly, even that one word seemed hard to articulate properly. Intoxicated not just by the alcohol, but that something dusgustingly creeping through her body. She focused so hard on trying figure it out that she didn't even notice the screeching of her own chair. Something wrapped around her legs that hold her close, a feeling of warmness and strong, strong grip, and suddenly she had four legs. How the hell did she just get four of them? Where did they come from?

The fingers continued to map the skin incessantly, burrowing into the freshly washed hair at the base of her neck.

"Olive, am I right?" The voice hummed in her ear. Olive? That's not delicious.

Something sticky and moving traced itself along her jaw, and that was the last straw the drunk woman could take. The new legs around her were acceptable, but this new thing – a bug, fingers, lips? – on her face was too much. The chair creaked loudly on the floor and she nervously began to search for a way out through the heaving crowd. An arm grabbed hers, spun her around a few times, then let her go again, finding a better dance partner. Lyra, on the brink of an impending panic attack, stumbled on until she felt something solid and cool under her fingers. She pressed the doorknob hard, and she stumbled out of the bar, all tipsy and halfway unconscious.

She took a look at the parking lot, scanning the cars shrouded in darkness with the brown eyes, desperately searching for a grey one. She found it, then another, and then one more.

Okay, then we're not going by car.

In the cool night, where not even the Moon nor the stars decided to come for her help, Lyra ran and ran until her lungs collapsed inside her chest, heart pounding louder than the shoes against the gravel, and her legs felt like they might give out at any moment.

As if this was the way her body wanted to cleanse itself of the unpleasant alcohol, she felt tears on her burning cheeks, but she continued to jog. To where, she didn't know, but far away from there, to a place where there is no excess of people and alcohol, no intrusive touches, and no Phil Hawkins.

Even the rain poured down, pelting the ground with all its might. Maybe it also wanted to cleanse itself of some terrible, disgusting feeling? Or is this how it punishes those who cannot protect themselves from this?

"What did I do to deserve this?!" She shouted, staring up at the sky, her words lost in the night. She just stood and cried in the middle of the road, not a soul in sight to hear her obvious suffer from the pain she didn't ask for. She has no car, no dignity, Jake left her just like that, Richy ruined lives, she's a horrible person, and she's too drunk to walk to the side of the road to avoid being hit by a speeding driver.

Sobbing, she took out her phone and called the first person on the list.

"Hello? Lyra– why are you crying?"

She took a deep breath as she explained everything to Jessy. She drove to Duskwood because she's totally nuts, and there's no denying that. Also went to the Aurora, where she found herself uninvited at a guy's birthday party, and that made her feel even worse. She drank, talked, and her brother is a total jerk for whom she can't find a better adjective at the moment. It's too dark and raining and her whole life is crap.

"And I've got this bloody blouse on, and those extra two legs! Jessy, I don't want it on me!"

"Lyra, listen here," she tried to get the brunette's attention, feeling that this was not the right moment to discuss why she thinks she has four legs. "Look around and tell me what do you see, okay? A house, sign, bench, flowers, a car, do you see anything?"

Lyra sniffed and looked, but she couldn't make out much in the cloudy night. "Well, there's a nice house here, oh how I'd like to live in one like thaz! There are more next to it, and two black cars on the right side... I'll go see what else there is."

"No! Don't move from there, Lyra, do you hear me? Stay put. I'll be right there to get you, understand?"

Feet rooted to the ground, she was standing on the road, just blinking in the rain. It was pouring without wanting to stop.

"There's also a nice looking rose bush," she said suddenly. "Oh, there's more! Dark flowers, Jessy, they look like black flowers! Can you imagine such?"

For long moments, there was only shuffling on the other end of the line. Lyra checked several times to see if the line was broken, but she didn't understand much of the words, and the flickering screen was quite painful to look at.

"Wait, I see you! You're in front of my house!

And really. A woman stood in the window, waving at her. The movement seemed too fast for Lyra, dizzyingly fast. The figure suddenly disappeared and a warm light flooded from the front door, a woman in pajamas clutching an umbrella rushing towards her. Muttering desperate words, she ushered her in, and in no more than a few moments she was standing in a hallway dripping wet, as the tousled redhead rushed around her.

"You're drunk! What happened, Lyra?"

She didn't get an answer, but she didn't expect one either. Jessy dried her off and changed her into more comfortable clothes. While she spread the soaked clothes on the chairs, she pressed a glass of water into her hand, telling her to drink it until she returned. Lyra felt like a small child again, fearing the wrath of her strict mother and doing everything she was told.

Jessy soon returned and took the glasd from her with a satisfied nod and they sat down – Lyra collapsed – on the couch. The redhead wanted nothing more than to have her tell everything that happened to her, but given the her condition, she just pulled Lyra close and held her.

"I thought," she whispered by herself into her neck, "if I came here, maybe it would be better. But it didn't get better. I went into the bar, you know."

Jessy hummed in understanding, but she didn't stop, the words just kept rolling off her tongue.

"I drank one glass, then two, after the third I don't remember how much more, but I didn't even count. It was really bad, but for some reason I was still sipping the alcohol. Then... your brother... You know exactly what he's like..."

"I know," she placed a small kiss on the top of her head. "It's okay now."

"I'm constantly afraid and nervous," she looked up into the pair of brown eyes with her own tearful ones and she saw in them all the sadness in the world, including what Lyra hadn't said yet. "I miss him. I want Jake here, just this one thing. I want to know… I want to know everything so I can die peacefully."

"Oh Lyra," she held her close, which was almost impossible, since there was not an inch between them. "Don't be dramatic, you dolt."

"I'm going to die someday anyway."

"Yes, but not now. By then, Jake will reach out and the two of you will have reconciled nicely, all the truth will be revealed and there will be no more secrets."

"Do you seriously think so?" She looked up hopefully at the smiling face. She smiles so reassuringly…

"The most seriously."

And Jessy was often right. Not always, but when Lyra felt she was right, it usually was the case. And now she felt it. Two can't be wrong, can they?

That night, she ended up falling asleep in Jessy's arms. For the first time in seven months she felt safe, so she spent the next seven one there; most of the time with quiet nights, next to Jessy, in secret, knowing nothing about Jake.

Imagine: the Duskwood group meets up with Mc and Jake, they go around the city a lot where they are staying at for a few days.

Jake was totally all over with them going on sightseeings. Madly anxious and paranoic. Scared. After a while, he gave up on checking each place and its security system properly, and Mc happily acknowledged, that maybe with this she could start a process. A process where the man finally gets enough rest, even if not completely safe, but not in great danger either.

And Mc cares about her friends more than anything. Friend... right?

Every characters' first sentence in The afterfire

(May or may not be in order according to timeline 👀)

Hannah: "Richy!"

Lyra: "I swear if this is my destiny, I'd like to see the whole script."

Darkness: "It's good to see you kept your promise, little trouble."

Alan: "Good afternoon, Miss Ambrose."

Jake: "Lyra. Lyra, listen to me..."

Jessy: "Hello?"

Cleo: "I don't know."

Dan: "If someone's playing with us right now, I'm really not up to it!"

Lilly: "Jake?"

Thomas: "Dan, shut up!"

Phil: "Having my day ruined by whatever you're about to ask me to do."

Yep, that's all. I'll add more characters as the story progresses (I only have around 19 properly written chapters)

HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME

Anyway here's a short story for this headcanon:

!Not entirely plot relevant conversations and actions!____________________

May 28th. The calendar said it's today, on a dark Thursday. Calendars never lie. His phone echoed in silence the same words, and his phone certainly never lies.

But Jake... Jake does lie often.

He pushed a few branches away from his face and immediately started typing on his phone again. The cool wind blowing his skin didn't bother him, in fact, it helped to hide the noise he made in the rush.

Jake: Mc, you have to promise me to not go to the mine.

Don't go, because I'm already here. He thought as he finally reached the Grimrock.

Mc: Well someone clearly has to go there, and I'm already in my car, so live with that

Jake always found it mesmerizing how determined Mc can be when it comes to doing whatever she finds good, but this time the habit seemed too stubborn. Too reckless. Too dangerous. He has lost plenty of things in his life; family, identity, freedom, ability to want to feel again, but he didn't want to lose another person. No, not this time. Even if it meant that this very important someone would be the one suffering. Someone would get hurt either way, and Jake was sure he couldn't take it anymore if it were him. Mc, on the other hand... she has much more potential, she would get past it quickly. She has purposes in this life, great purposes, he had to admit. And as selfish as it sounds, he was sick of pain.

Jake: You cannot go there, you understand? We will figure out something.

Mc: And when do you want to do that?? After they are already dead??

She was right; he had to act quickly. Jake fastened his pace and stepped inside. The air felt heavy and old there, suffocating him, but instead of turning around, he went deeper.

That wasn't exactly how he imagined that day, in an old mine about to collapse and arguing with Mc. It had been a long time since he thought about this date like that, even longer when he cared. A few days ago, however, he thought that maybe now it could be different. Perhaps now he can afford to share it with someone, after all he's a person like the others; with private life, childhood, thoughts and birthday.

He planned to tell Mc tonight. In other words, just mention it, he didn't want to... What exactly? To be important? Brag? Distract her from finding Hannah? Maybe. Maybe one of them is true. It could be he wanted to matter a bit...

But it doesn't matter now. All his plans were ruined by the messages from that Unknown person. And the least he will let is Mc go there herself, no matter what. As smart as she is, she sometimes comes up with the worst ideas. Besides, it's his birthday — at least let him have one wish. A wish to solve this mess and keep his beloved out of trouble.

Hannah too, he stopped abdurtly. Free Hannah and Richy, too.

Beloved... Did he really just think that?

His phone kept buzzing crazy. Instead of checking the messages, he muted the notifications and continued his way deeper into the mine, the flaslight casting more and more horrifying shadows everywhere as Jake reached a ladder.

***

The road was slippery and dark; it rained. Mc cursed loudly as she drove through small towns and larger cities, the warmth of the car lights glinting on the wet windshield and puddles. Under other circumstances, she would have enjoyed this time listening to the patter of rain, the rumble of a distant storm, and the sound of cars passing by. She especially liked the roar of the engine. It always made her forget her problems.

Now everything was different though, her heart was beating faster and faster as she glanced down at the speedometer.

"You motherfucker of a car!" Either way she calculated, she couldn't go any faster or she would have an accident before she even reached the Grimrock. And time is hard to beat, especially when the goal is something that's even more expensive than your life.

***

He didn't know how good an idea it was, in fact, he was sure it was a terrible idea, but he climbed it anyway, maybe because according to his map it was the only way to go. The ladder creaked a lot under his weight, which was not very gratefully received by the rungs. Halfway through, one broke, landing with a thud, as Jake would have if he hadn't caught another in time.

He can't die, not yet. Not when he's so close to something more important than his life.

***

He was there. She saw Alan walking around the waterfall, the cars' sirens in the distance and where she needed to go. Mc carefully made her way through the tall plants, with as little noise as possible. Even though that the water hit the ground with a deafening force, it doesn't hurt to be careful.

The man was too busy doing whatever he was doing with his back to her, so Mc easily slipped through the opening. Damp and heavy air, great darkness. Even scarier when you know someone is waiting. And the Unknown person was waiting for her to walk into his arms.

She has to be smart and make sure to find Hannah and Richy first, preferably on a path that looks hidden. And let's face it, it's really hard to do in a fucking mine.

I have to try.

She turned on the flashlight of her phone and walked deeper and deeper, noting the turns.

***

She was there. She ran and ran, far, loudly. Hannah has escaped. Jake was already heading towards the alarmed woman when he heard voices and turned a corner. He leaned against the wall and listened.

"Miss Donfort, come with me now, I'll take you out."

"No, wait–”

The sound of a gun; not a shot, just a knock. Jake peeked out and saw a policeman escorting his sister out with quick steps in the direction he himself had come from. So it's okay, Hannah will be safe soon.

But what is a policeman doing here? He remembered the uniform he had seen, and then involuntarily could only think of one person. Mc, did you seriously call the police?

He would have already turned back to look for another exit, possibly one where he wouldn't run into a policeman, when his legs stopped. He still has to get someone out. Because Richy wasn't with Hannah, and he owes Mc that.

***

There he stood. With his back to her, dressed in black, in the dimly lit place. Mc would have been happy to see him again, the man who was kidnapped with Hannah by The Man Without a Face. She would have been happy, relieved, if only she hasn't found out just five minutes ago, it was him all along.

Richy was The Man Without a Face.

Two people, whom until now she thought were so much the opposite of each other, turned out to be the same. A kind man, whose voice can hardly be heard, and a murderous, psychopathic kidnapper. The irony life has...

Mc, slowly recovering from the earlier shock caused by the conversation and the video chat between Richy and Jessy, slowly but surely started towards him. She got a bad feeling as she approached, didn't know why, but something was wrong. Richy stood there, menacingly still, without moving a muscle. Mc felt her heart in her ears, no longer owner of her own voice, and her breath hitched when she saw him drop something.

Something he shouldn't have.

A lighter.

***

The air grew smoky and Jake sensed that something was very wrong. He ran from one flight to another, searching and hiding at the same time. For the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do, and he was alone. It's ironic to say that when you're playing hide and seek in a mine with a dangerous man and one of his victims.

He increased his steps and felt the heat on his skin. Holding his shirt tighter to his nose, starting in the direction where he already saw the flames of the fire. He knew that it was like running to death, because it was, but he would still lose his remaining freedom outside as well, and Richy had a chance. Jake will point him in the right direction. Then sit down and wait; what for, he didn't even dare to think about himself.

After all, he certainly won't be able to get out, and it won't make sense either.

His ears hurt so much from the blood throbbing in them that he almost didn't hear it. He almost swerved, not in the direction a woman was shouting. A figure was sitting at the base of the wall, another was trying to pull him up; the woman.

The woman.

Mc.

Perhaps Jake has never run so fast in his life, even though he has his fair amounts of escaping from the police. This was different now. He didn't have to save his own life, the stakes were much higher.

"Get up, please get up!" She begged the man in a tearful voice, who just shook his head. When he looked up at Jake, the black haired saw that there was nothing in his eyes. He stepped in front of him and tugged hard on the arm, forcing the blond to stand up unless wanting to fall.

"Look here, she's here because of you, so you're going out now." He looked into the speechless eyes, which were now staring back at him in alarm. He pulled Richy's hoodie up to his nose. "Straight over there, and you only turn left. Up the ladder and keep going until you see flashing lights."

"Quickly, it's spreading fast!"

They sped off, making sure Richy was always ahead of them. The echoes of their feet was thrown around by the walls, as if none of them wanted to keep it. They already saw the ladder and gave Richy a big push to hurry up. The man climbed as far as he could, but the ladder gave up and broke with a loud crack. Just when the two legs disappeared.

"For fuck's sake!" He tried to put it back together somehow, but it was too heavy and rusty; broken beyond use. Jake scanned their surroundings nervously, looking for a way out. "Come on," he turned to Mc, "I'll get you up there, you can reach the other half that way."

"No!" She stared into his eyes, those stubborn, everseeing blue eyes, in which she saw the frightening power of the approaching fire. "You're a complete fool! I'm not going! Can you hear? I'm not going!"

"You are–" He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the ladder, but Mc wouldn't go. She sat down at the base of the wall and didn't move. Jake could have pulled her up, it wouldn't have been difficult, but there was something final about this movement. So he fell down next to her, now both scrutinizing each other. That's not how he imagined the day, but there was something oddly comforting about it. Maybe it was the acceptance of the approaching end. Until now, he had only imagined what it would be like face to face with the woman, what her voice is like, her eyes, what she's like when she smiles.

And now he already knows.

Mc smiled gently and stroked his smoky face. "Why did you have to come here? Why can't you listen to me once in your life?"

"I could ask you that too."

Small tears rolled down their faces, but they didn't turn away, didn't cover them. They didn't want to waste a single minute without seeing each other.

"You,” she broke into a strong cough, but continued, “you still...why...”

"Because someone had to. And you?"

Mc smiled tearfully. "Because someone had to."

Jake loved the way she looked at him. Only him, and no one else, giving him all her attention, to the last drop. Something heavy broke in his chest — probably his heart — that he could only feel this for such a short time. He wanted to know this woman by his side every day, safe, in his arms, until they were both old, but their eyes didn't change. It is the soul and the eye that never lie.

His soul was whispering loudly to him, but he didn't listen to it, he just watched and absorbed Mc's words as long as he could.

"Once in a lifetime..."

"I know."

"But seriously, you'd only listen to me once."

He smiled slyly, and the whispering suddenly stopped. He already knew, didn't need it anymore, he knew it himself. "Then listen to me, too."

She furrowed her brows in question as Jake's smile only got bigger and closer, much closer...

"Listen to me... and let me..."

Silent silence. Only their hearts were racing, but it was far away somewhere else, far away from them, from the feeling of their lips meeting for the first and last sweet kiss. It was like heaven in hell, a little slice before it was all over, but maybe it wouldn't have been enough without it. Mc's fingers crawled into his hair, into the thick blackness, before he pulled her closer to him. To safety, where perhaps the fire can never reach this beauty.

The air was scarce and heavy, even heavier when Mc gently pulled her lips away. She ran her nose over Jake's cheek, jaw, back to his lips, but she didn't say a word or kiss. They just sat, holding each other, simply existing.

"Maybe this birthday isn't bad after all," he whispered.

The pair of brown eyes opened in alarm at this, but the body remained motionless. "What?"

"Today is my–"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Jake looked down the curve of her nose and chin. "I wanted to, tonight. But a lot happened."

It was absurd, really out of place, utterly impossible; Mc laughed though. It was a soft, weak voice, one that smoothed Jake's soul like silk. She just shook her head without saying a word and her laugh was contagious. Then it died, and a heavy silence fell upon them.

There they sat, leaning on each other's shoulders, in a forgotten flight, completely alone and on the verge of certain death, yet perhaps now they were the most complete in their lives. Happiness doesn't have to accompany us for a lifetime, it's enough if it lands on us only in the last moments, like a tiny butterfly. Flies away at any moment, yet the knowledge that it chooses us for its short rest is more than the longest love in the world.

The play of flames reflected in their eyes as the fire spread around them. Mc tiredly looked up at Jake, not observing him, she already knew the man. She just looked at his eyes, waiting for him to do the same, and when the blue of the sea met her own sweet chocolate, she smiled. The words were heavy and suffocating, but she wanted to say them. She wasn't sure she would be able to comfortably close her eyes if she didn't.

"Happy birthday to you."

Jake chuckled as he held her eyes, the warm feeling of his fingers around hers never leaving ever again. "I love you, Mc," he whispered.

"I love you too, Jake."

I rushed to Tumblr to write this after finishing my essay... Did you just spoiler your own story??

It crossed my mind to imagine that the day Jake goes to the mine is the same day as his birthday but he doesn't say anything because he stopped celebrating it, but with MC maybe he had hopes of doing it again, but the FBI ruined it for him

How sad it would be… if someone wrote it in her story… 😈

Lyra (Mc) when Jake talks about computer stuff

She finally got him to talk more than just one sentence, and she doesn't want him to shut up.

Secret train ride

Summary: Neither of them was supposed to be on that train...

Pairing: Jake Donfort and Lyra Ambrose (my Mc from The afterfire)

Warning: cursing

Inspired by this post

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The platform has perhaps never been so crowded. Weak sunlight penetrated through the high windows, dancing along the dark walls and columns, on the hundreds of lives that ran from one train to another like a swarm of ants. Passengers were informed about a ten-minute delay on the public address system. It's the train that's most important right now, she has to get on it as soon as possible.

Scanning the tracks, she walked through the station. The air smelled heavy of rain. It perfectly reflected Lyra's soul.

Not just one man approached her in broad daylight, but she deftly dodged them, cutting through the crowd wrapped in her thin coat. A train pulled into the station between the others and she jumped on it without wasting a second. With a big sigh, she sat down, soon a woman in a hat folding herself in next to her. The huge white machine just stood still for a long time, Lyra trying to get it going in vain. She must go now or it will be too late.

As if a miracle of the gods had happened, she started the two-hour journey squeaking. Lyra was staring at her phone so hard and still, the woman sitting next to her had doubts about her mental state. But that didn't bother her in the least; another message has been received from the unknown. A demanding, frightening one. He wants her there now, and Lyra is running out of time.

***

She didn't mean to. If it weren't for a kid crying out loud somewhere in the train, her eyes immediately searching for the source of voice, she wouldn't even notice it. Lyra would get off in Duskwood and continue her way into this complete madness. Oblivous to the man's presence in front of her. But this weren't the case, and will not be; because the brown pair of eyes landed on the blackness.

It is no exaggaration to say, he was black from head to toe. Dressed in thick clothes, maybe far too warm for the late rainy May weather, pale white skin peeking through the mess of dark hair at the nape of his neck, curled up at the ears. He was sitting in front of her, his being going almost completely unnoticed by her if she hadn't looked at him painfully precisely. Lyra had to tare her gaze away once her phone started to beep like crazy again.

Jake: I came to inform you of something that will require me to stop communicating with you for a certain period of time.

Jake: I am sure you will be fine with your friends without me. Whatever happens, let me know. I will know about everything that may be important to us. Don't let the Unknown scare you.

Lyra: That's great because I was just about to say the same thing

Jake: What do you mean?

The woman shook her head. For what reason, remained unknown. Was she dissapointed or nervous? Scared?

Lyra: In two hours I arrive in Duskwood

Jake: You can not go there, Lyra. It is very dangerous.

Lyra: Someone has to do something, or the man without a face will

Lyra: That option is NOT favourable for us

Jake: I warn you, Lyra, whatever transport you use, stop now and go back. We will figure out something.

Lyra: You want me to jump off of a moving train?

Sudden silence, as if Jake had frozen. The three points in the corner returned so quickly that she could not spend much time on the former thought, not enough to gain meanings.

Jake: Please do not jump off of a moving train, but get out as soon as it stops in the next station.

Lyra: Okay, so in Duskwood

Jake: No.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She loved getting the man all worked up, mostly because he doesn't often gets annoyed with her. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling of something being very wrong. He took it for the conditions in Duskwood. In the meantime, the hacker continued to argue, for which her reply was the same every time; she will go to the mine and finally end everything.

It was a sudden movement, so sudden and out of character that Lyra had to glance up at the man in front of her. He sat so still for half the ride that she started to think he was either asleep, dead, or a creep. However, now he was furiously typing on his phone, shoulders under the hoodie tensed. Lyra returned to her messages coming in faster than usual.

Jake: Look, Lyra, you are a very smart woman, we both know this is a terribly idea. Get off of there as soon as you can. For your sake.

Jake: Think about what will happen if Jessica finds out what you are doing.

Jake: If Michael Hanson lied, which he most definitely did, and will not release Hannah and Richy like he said.

Jake: I am already on a train to Duskwood.

The last message sent a shiver down her spine, one so uncomfortable she had to shift in her seat. Her coat wrapped around her body uncomfortably, suffocating.

It can't be. Impossible. She checked the schedules and only this one goes the fastest and earliest to Duskwood, the only express not stopping at every single train station. Maybe he's going with another one. Maybe that one is already close to the location. She shouldn't just jump into assumptions like this.

Something kept whispering she is wrong this time.

Lyra: You are what??

Jake: That is why I do not want you there. I will take care of everything. We are closer to Hannah and Richy than ever.

Lyra swallowed down the unnecessary words, there's really no time for it now.

Lyra: When exactly will you arrive?

Jake: In half an hour.

Lyra: That...

She glanced up at the time on the top of the screen.

Lyra: Is impossible

Jake: It is very much possible.

You are not Jake, her jaw clenched as she repeated this to herself, staring daggers into the man's head in front her. You are not– Her fingers acted faster than her mind could give out the right command, faster than a human should be able to move. The tip of her fingers got lost in the mass of blackness, no longer than a mere second, the turn of his head even quicker than the pace she could have pulled back.

Jake.

She didn't know what he looked like. Never heard his voice or knew more of him than he allowed her. Lyra wouldn't have known it was him, she could have apologized and continued the virtual fight. About to open her mouth to apologize – 'Sorry, I confused you with someone' –, but his eyes betrayed him. They stared back with a wide-open blue, all the feelings that a person can experience passing through them at the speed of light.

"Why are you here?" A voice whispered – with more or less success – the words which all probably came from his moving mouth.

"Why are you here?"

They both stared at each other without a word, and when Lyra excused herself out of the shared seat with big hat woman to sit next to the man, nothing happened. The world didn't collapse, the cure if cancer hasn't been found, no giant lizard entered the Earth's atmosphere. But that also meant Hannah and Richy were still... no. She will not think about them, not when they are sitting so still next to each other it should have been awkward, but wasn't. The way both tried so hard not to touch each other, but the train said otherwise. In every turn and bump they failed miserably.

No, she will not think about them when her last moments of faked peace can be enjoyed. Enjoying is a strong word for such situation, yet she couldn't help the small smile on her lips as they observed each other out of the corner of their eye.

She had to be a bit selfish to not run away from the inevitable.

Y'all I finally finished this after two weeks :D

No proof reading because I might end up not posting this out of tiredness

Guys guys guys, the age gap in The afterfire is a masterpiece

I'm aware this is an another fandom, but my mind immediately went to the headcanon that:

Jake secretly listening in on Mc one time, because he has to make sure the person he's about to work with is trustrworthy enough, but the next evening he feels odd. Like something is missing. Pacing his room didn't help, nor washing his face, commanding himself to stop tyring to figure it out. So he subconsciously ends up sitting by his computer where Mc's voice is echoing through. This devilous circle repeats every night for weeks, slowly building in itself in his daily routine. Jake even found himself waking up to a slight snoring that certaily wasn't his. Memories of last night flashing in his brain about what has happened; him sitting there in silence while listening to Mc rant about something to Jessy (he remembers every single word of hers), in complete awe of each sound she made. Then came the blurry dots, blinding his eyes, the last thing he remembers hearing being a faint "good night", the darkness swallowing him in whole.

Ever since then he cannot stop himself from not listening to the woman all day, his only, ever so lightly convicing excuse that he keeps repeating to himself being "I'm used to hearing your voice before I go to bed."

This was supposed to be a comment about a two sentence headcanon, but here we go-

alright little guy

Okay, so, do we want me to upload the short stories/one shots on Wattpad? I've been thinking about making a Duskwood short stories book, but... Opinions about this?