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rip-quizilla · 3 months ago

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Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 8

Pairing: Eddie Munson X fem!Reader

Summary: "We were friends for a long time... and then we weren't."

Word Count: 4.3 K

Divider was created by @hellfire--cult ❤️

New Years Eve, 1983

There was always so much noise at Granny’s house.

People were everywhere. In the kitchen, in the bedrooms, in the den, even outside in the cold. There was no escaping from the noise no matter where one went in this house.

So why, then, as you sat on Granny’s little gossip bench staring at her pale yellow phone, did you feel completely suffocated by its silence?

“Are you expecting a call?”

Startled, you looked up at your grandmother and answered, “Yes… maybe…” you looked down at your lap, feeling utterly childish as you tumbled through your sentence. “He didn’t say when he would call, exactly. Just said that he would.”

Granny watched you with understanding, nodding her head as if you were making complete sense and not ignoring what an entire week of silence from that phone must mean.

“Well dear,” Granny said softly, “the way I see it, you have two options.”

You listened intently, worrying the telephone cord between your fingers as you had been for who knew how long by now.

“-Ether you risk missing that call- which I’m sure any sorry soul who waits a week to call a girl as pretty as my granddaughter would understand- and spend some time with your family,” you didn’t miss the knowing smile she gave you or the raise of one near translucent gray eyebrow. “-or you can sit by the phone for the rest of your time here letting some boy take over your entire holiday.”

You cringed, looking back at the phone for one more longing second before smiling at your granny as you stood from the chair.

“Need any help in the kitchen, Gran?”

She grinned, hooking your arm with her own as the two of you made your way to the already crowded kitchen to find something to occupy your mind other than some boy.

However, you still chanced a look over your shoulder at the telephone before it disappeared from your sight. Eddie said he would call. It’s been a week, why hasn’t he called?

He said he would call.

Eddie was staring at the phone too.

He’d been staring at it ever since Robin had told him what happened with Alan. Been staring on Christmas Day, been staring every day after that, stared at it on New Years Eve when he wondered if he’d ever get to claim your New Year’s kiss one day. Fantasized, more like. He knew it wasn’t a possibility now.

He’d already made up his mind, and that was why he wouldn’t touch the phone.

For the best, he told himself. It’s for the best.

The radio silence continued for far longer than you’d thought it would.

Eddie knew when you were coming home- you’d told him that he could see you as soon as you got home the Friday after New Years’. He’d said the two of you could make up for the lost holiday time over the weekend before school began.

But there was no call from Eddie. And even though you knew he was in the wrong, there was a part of you that was laughing at yourself for being so naive that you’d expected this to actually happen. Dating Eddie Munson… who were you kidding? He didn’t even want you wearing his jacket around school; for a moment you had thought that he may feel the same way about you as you felt about him, but even if that were true he wasn’t about to let the whole of Hawkins know that. Now, you weren’t even worth a phone call.

You shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up.

These were the thoughts that plagued you as you crossed the frigid parking lot of Hawkins High on the first day of the spring semester. It felt strange to drive yourself to school again… it had been almost a year since you’d done that, since your usual ride was a 1971 Chevy Astro. You couldn’t help searching the lot for that very brown and yellow van, and weren’t sure if it was relief or disappointment you felt when it was nowhere to be seen.

You didn’t see him in Latin class. Or History. Or Pre-Cal. You were beginning to think he’d just cut school for the day when you walked into the cafeteria and saw him sitting at his normal spot, head of the table as always.

Your face started to get hot, palms sweating and heart racing- you thought about sitting at a different table since he obviously didn’t want to see you. Let yourself down easy, let the memory of him fade from your life, let him have his way.

But then he saw you.

For a split second, he looked as ghost-white as you felt. The next second, he was smiling and laughing at something one of the guys was saying.

As if you weren’t even there. As if the elephant- the mammoth- in the room wasn’t even there.

Maybe… maybe everything was fine? Maybe he had simply forgotten that he’d said he would call? What if you had remembered the conversation you’d had wrong, and it was you who was supposed to call him, and he was only avoiding you because he’d thought you were mad at him.

A thousand possibilities were running through your head as you made your way to the lunch table, setting your things down and sitting in your usual spot beside Eddie.

You received a couple of greetings from the guys, but not from him. That wasn’t good.

Your heart was racing; you must have done something, said something. There was some kind of misunderstanding, but you would work it out. You just had to extend an olive branch.

Nudging Eddie’s elbow with your own got his attention, but not how you’d wanted. Instead, he flinched away as if you’d burned him. Flinched. His eyes were wide, surprised and slightly skittish as he looked at you for the first time since you’d sat down.

Why is he so jumpy? You thought, What did I do?

“How- ahem,” your voice was surprisingly hoarse, and it dawned on you that you’d hardly spoken since you’d told your parents goodbye that morning. “-how was your break?”

He stared at you for a moment, blinked, then donned a mask of indifference as he turned his attention back to his meager lunch of pretzels and a Slim Jim and shrugged. “Good.”

His voice was light, airy. Noncommittal and monosyllabic. The tone of voice someone used when speaking to a person they’d rather not be speaking to. You’d heard that tone from him before, but never directed at you.

“You…” you stuttered the end of that word, struggling to make up your mind about which words would follow it. “...you said you would call, Eddie…”

If you’d thought his face was white before, you knew it was now. You noticed his chest heaving underneath his layers of jackets, and for a split second you wondered if maybe everything would be okay after all. Maybe you were just in your head, and this was all some big mistake, that everything was fine and you were just being dramatic.

“Yeah, I…” Eddie gulped, and suddenly he was indifferent again, aloof and uncaring. “...I was busy. Sorry.”

Nothing about this made sense. Not a single thing about this interaction made any damn sense. Eddie was never aloof with you. Never uncaring.

“You were busy?” You repeated, and the edge in your words must have been stronger than you’d intended because the conversations around you were starting to taper off into silence in favor of listening in on the quarrel at the head of their table.

Eddie narrowed his eyes on you, annoyed. “Yeah, I had a busy week, I already said I’m sorry.”

“So busy you didn’t have time for even one phone call?” you whispered, keeping your voice down. You were upset, but giving the boys a show wasn’t on your agenda. “Eddie, I… we… I had a good time before we left, I thought it…” you were feeling so many emotions right now, a cocktail of embarrassment, anger, frustration, everything but sureness of yourself was swirling in a cyclone behind your eyes, and Eddie saw all of it in only one glance. It’s why he looked away and searched desperately for something else to train his gaze on.

“...Eddie, I thought we-”

His eyes refused to meet your own, but his tone was biting when he interrupted your whispered plea with a bitter mumble. “It was one date, you’re acting like we’re married or something. Don’t be so dramatic about it.” Then he bit down on a pretzel, breaking it in half with a single crunch.

You felt like you’d been slapped across the face. “I…I- you…” What were you trying to say? What could you say? Nothing came to mind. You didn’t have words for what you were feeling, and your brain was already moving a mile a minute. You’d thought things would be different now, but not like this. Not worse. That one date hadn’t just made things weird, it had apparently caused irreparable damage to your friendship. It was too late to take anything back. You couldn’t go back to normal after this. You didn’t want normal after this. Not when you knew what what could have been felt like, and especially not now that you knew he wanted absolutely nothing to do with what could have been. Nothing to do with you.

The thoughts were swirling, and the cyclone was growing louder and more dangerous. Suddenly your eyesight was blurry, and something wet was falling down the slope of your cheek, and your heart felt as if it was clawing its way up your throat. So up you stood, snatching your unopened lunchbox from the table and crashing through the exit door. You didn’t care that it was freezing out and that you had nothing but your cable-knit red sweater for warmth, you ran anyway. You ran until you reached the black cherry tree, collapsing against its steady bark as you finally let the tears fall.

Your heart finally found freedom from your throat when a sob wrenched its way out of you, shaking your shoulders with a violent gasp. How did this happen? How had you gone from being completely and totally sure of where you stood with him one week, and weeping over him the next? You had whiplash, you felt like you were dreaming. This wasn’t your Eddie; he was acting like a different person, why? What had you done to upset him like this?

You heard footsteps crunch across the dry, dew-frozen grass behind you, and you didn’t need to look to see who it was. You also didn’t want this particular person to see your tears; they would only serve as proof that he was right about you being too dramatic. You stared daggers into the trunk of your tree and tried to sound as unfeeling as he had.

“I want to sit out here today.” you said, cursing the hiccup that escaped you in between sentences. “You can go back inside.”

Eddie just stood there, silently. He didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t in his nature- being hateful. Being mean. It killed him to do this, to know he was even capable of hurting you. Yet here he was, doing it anyway.

“Okay.” he mumbled, “If you’re sure.”

Every fiber of his being was fighting him. No rational part of him wanted to go along with this twisted plan that the darkest part of him had created- the side of him that knew deep down that he never deserved your friendship in the first place. The side of him that knew if he stayed on the path he’d been on until last week, you would get hurt again- people like Alan would make sure of it. He would drag you down, he would hold you back, and you would stand by him taking hit after hit for him all the while like the perfect angel you were.

Simply put, he hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve you, and you didn’t deserve the shit that came with having anything to do with Eddie Munson. So here he was- righting the balance.

He turned to walk away from you, leaving you shivering and sobbing in the cold, and just when he didn’t think he could feel like any more of an asshole, he heard your soft quavering voice from over his shoulder and his heart just about shattered.

“What did I do wrong, Eddie?”

He was glad his back was turned, or else you would have seen his expression crumple for a moment before he regained his composure.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

He had to make it hurt. He had to be brutal, he had to be heartless. If you thought there was a way to talk this out, you’d take it, and he’d be weak enough to let you. Then all of this would be for nothing.

He had to hurt you now; it was the only way he could make sure he never hurt you again.

“I mean, come on. You’ve had a crush on me from day one, if I’d wanted anything serious I would have acted on it before now.” Eddie was facing you now, but he couldn’t look at you. His eyes were staring at his Reeboks with such intensity, he wondered if he might burn a hole through his toes. “I only asked you out because I felt bad for you. You were so desperate for attention… I mean, we had some fun, yeah, but that was all it was. Girls like you are just too easy to be anything serious.”

He saw your head snap up out of his periphery, and despite his better judgment, he lifted his gaze to get a better look.

Your eyes were red and wild, tear stained cheeks grayish from your makeup and upper lip slick from what your sniffles couldn’t quite catch.

“Girls like me?” You repeated; he felt a chill run down his spine at the tone of your voice, and he knew it wasn’t due to the cold. It was low, eerily quiet and foreboding. He couldn’t help but feel like he may have gone too far, but it was too late to take it back now.

“Well since you’re an expert on girls like me, Eddie Munson, let me tell you a thing or two about boys like you.” The tears were still flowing down your face, but the look in your eyes was anything but sad. He’d seen that look on everyone important in his life but you up until now.

Disappointment.

“Boys like you,” you said, “are liars. Because the way I see it, either you’re lying to yourself and to me right now, or you’ve been lying to me every day since we met and you’ve finally decided to show your true colors.”

You hiccupped through a breath, stifling a sob as your composure threatened to crinkle in on itself.

“I can’t reconcile that the person I’ve known this whole time and the person you’re being right now are the same guy! I don’t know if you’ve always been this way and pretended you weren’t or if you’re lying right now for some reason that you aren’t telling me… But Eddie, you’re a liar either way.”

You saw right through him; he’d almost hoped that you would. He couldn’t do anything about it, though- he wouldn’t deny nor confirm, because if he spoke he might break. He just stood there, eyes lowered to the ground like a scolded child.

You marched toward him, and his heart felt as though he’d put it behind bars. He’d silenced it, shoved it in a cell and locked the door. Even when you were standing within arms reach, he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. “I know when I’m not wanted, and I’m not going to fight for something that means so little to you that you’re willing to throw it away without even telling me why.”

You reached down to pick up the lunchbox you’d dropped during the onslaught of your sobbing, and caught his eye contact on the way back up. You held it menacingly and without question as to who held the authority to break it and who didn’t. “You want to let this lie? Fine. I’ll let it lie. It can lie right under a gravestone for all I care.” You shook your head slightly, face crumpling into bitter disappointment. “Bye.”

Then you walked right past him, and he did nothing.

He didn’t chase you. He didn’t argue, he didn’t fess up about how all of this is an act meant to convince you not to spend another minute associating yourself with the likes of him. He didn’t even say ‘bye’ back. He stared at the ground and prayed to whatever god was listening that it would swallow him whole.

It was surreal how quickly a routine could change when necessary.

One day, Eddie was an integral part of your life. He was the reason you were excited to go to school every day. He was the source and recipient of nearly every smile you gave.

The next day, he was gone. His presence in your life had disappeared into thin air, and while there was a part of you that had started out hoping that Eddie would come back to you with apologies and explanations, that part was never satisfied.

It was like the last year had never happened. Eddie hung out with his Hellfire friends and you hung out with Robin. You gravitated back into your old social circles and never overlapped.

You had explained everything to Robin immediately, reeling when she told you what she’d divulged to Eddie about the incident with Alan and wondering if somehow, that had something to do with Eddie’s sudden shift in behavior. But in the end, it didn’t matter- he’d dropped you this quickly, and no reason could justify that to you. You wanted nothing to do with someone who didn’t care enough to try harder to keep you.

Winter subsided to spring, and when the time came to think about college you set your sights on schools as far away as possible- Hawkins might have been your home, but there were so many pockets of your small town that reminded you of Eddie. The lake, Benny’s, the Starcourt mall… so many places were haunted by memories of him, preserved like flowers that had begun to mold because they hadn’t been pressed quite right.

You passed your exams in the spring easily. Despite your better judgment, you worried about Eddie doing the same without you to help him study, and that worry proved it wasn’t in vain when you heard down the grapevine that he had failed enough of his core classes that he wouldn’t be graduating with the rest of you. Funny, you thought, how you had spent so much time helping him figure out his learning style only for him to forget all of it the moment you were gone.

If you could have seen through Eddie’s eyes, however, you would have known that he remembered everything. Painfully so. He wished he could forget, that way he might not feel so guilty when deciding not to try anymore. At a certain point, graduating just didn’t feel like something he deserved anymore.

And graduation came and went without him. You moved out to New York for college at the end of the summer, and Eddie stayed in Hawkins. You remembered hearing a rumor that he planned on dropping out. You tried not to feel responsible.

You resolved to remember your friendship with Eddie Munson as a strong, but short lived connection. You told yourself that’s all it was ever meant to be- a powerful connection with an expiration date. With time, the pain would begin to numb and you would learn to forget about him.

All it would take was time.

~ 10 Years Later ~

“Okay, how about this- I take the monstera, but you get to keep all of the succulents.”

You sighed, keeping your new wireless telephone wedged between your shoulder and your ear as you worked your way through unloading the dishes from your dishwasher. It was a quaint, compact appliance designed to fit perfectly in one-butt-at-a-time kitchens such as the one in your New York City apartment.

“Kate,” you started, wondering if she was ever going to drop this or if you were going to have to force her to take all of the plants with her when she moved out. “You have always been the one that takes care of these damn plants. You know me- am I ever going to remember to water these things?”

Her voice was quiet for a moment before you heard her defeated “...No.”

“Correct.” you confirmed, nodding sagely as you lined thrifted mismatched water glasses into a cupboard. “Do you want a single one of your precious babies to die while in my care, Kate?”

“But maybe you’ll decide you want to take care of them because they make the apartment so pretty!”

“I will not! You know that I will not, and that is why you are taking all of the plants.”

You snorted when you heard her disgruntled sigh garbled through the phone. “Don’t you want at least one of them? They brighten up the place so much, and I’m sure your new roomie would appreciate the extra oxygen it would bring-”

“-Then he can bring his own plants.” you countered, drying off your hands after unloading the last dish.

“I still can’t believe I’m moving out…” Kate’s voice took on that nostalgic, mirror-glazed tone that you’d heard so many times this month already. It broke you down a bit- always did. You and Kate had lived in this little apartment together for the last five years. You’d seen each other through college graduations, new jobs, good dates, bad dates- and now, new living situations.

“Kate,” you warned, “if you were going to talk yourself out of moving, it would have been a lot more convenient before you signed a lease across town and I found a new roommate.” You let yourself fall into the worn out corduroy sofa under a window where your cat, Icarus, liked to perch on the sill and soak up the sun. You reached up to scratch between his ears absentmindedly. “He’s on his way here now, so it’ll be pretty awkward if I have to tell him to get lost.”

“You’re sure this guy isn’t some weirdo?” Kate sounded concerned, which was typical of her. While she may be two years younger than you, she still worried about you like a doting big sister. “You haven’t even met him, and he’s already moving in.”

“Well if he is,” you said, gazing at the door to what used to be Kate’s bedroom. “Then I just don’t resign the lease with him. He’s only subletting until the end of the summer anyway, so there’s nothing binding that’s keeping him here. And besides, he’s friends with one of Cathy’s brothers’ girlfriends.”

You could practically hear Kate rolling her eyes through the phone. “Right, he’s basically family at that point.”

A knock at the door caught your attention, Dun-dun-dudun-dun… dun-dun.

“Well he’s here now, so if you don’t hear from me by tonight you’ll know he’s an ax murderer.”

“Not funny!”

You chuckled, finding it very funny. “Love you!”

“Love you too. Seriously, call me tonight!”

You hung the phone up on its wall mount as you made your way to the door. You were curious who this mystery roommate was. When your coworker had heard you talking about how Kate was taking a job that would relocate her across town, she’d raved about this person who she’d met at a Christmas party back home who would be moving to New York and needed a place to stay. She went on and on about how he was the nicest guy, easygoing and down to earth- you’d initially wondered why Cathy wasn’t inviting him to move in with her before you remembered that she was married.

You plastered on a welcoming smile as you turned the knob of your front door and swung it open.

You saw the eyes first. They still looked the same, sweet chocolate brown eyes framed in lashes that a Covergirl would envy. You noticed traces of eyeliner around the edges- that was new- but the eyes were the same.

The hair… there was so much more of it now. It was longer, it was shinier… it fell over his shoulders in waves and matched the scruff that dusted his cheeks and jawline. You saw light glint off an earring somewhere in all that hair.

Your eyes zeroed in on the bats before you could focus on any of the other tattoos that now littered his arms. They were more faded now, patchy and fuzzed at the edges. Yours didn’t look too different- it looked pretty much the same, minus the bluish tint that his had taken on from too much sun exposure.

He dressed a little differently; seemed taller too- but it was him. There was no mistaking those eyes.

On one side of your doorway, you stood in complete and utter silence. On the other side, a ghost stood in equal silence with a suitcase in one hand, a beaten guitar case in the other, and a duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

The irony of it was funny, really. The person who had shut you out all those years ago, standing at your door, waiting to be let in.

It just had to be you, you thought bitterly, didn’t it, Eddie?

It had to be you.

Part 9

Taglist: @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92, @melodymishahiddlestan , @stylesxmunson , @fishwithtitz , @elvendria , @carrotbunnies21 , @the-unforgivenn , @munson-blurbs , @writinginthetwilight , @ghost-proofbaby , @hellfire--cult , @nix-rose , @chaoticgood-munson , @3rd-conchord , @aphrogeneias , @definitionwanderlust , @aheadfullofsteverogers , @artsymaddie , @mopeymopeymouse , @alwaysbeenfamous

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #impossible to hate you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddie x reader #ithy

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jakesduskwood · 6 months ago

Text

even statues crumble if they're made to wait

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Post-Episode 10 Duskwood, Post-Episode 1 Moonvale

Words: 8,916

Summary: It's been three months since the explosion in the mine. Three months since Hannah was found. And MC's accepted that Jake is never coming back. When she gets roped into another missing person's case, it makes for the perfect distraction. Jake is dead. It's fine. That is, until she finds herself on the phone with Alan Bloomgate who says he has something to show her. But it's fine. Jake is dead.

Until he's not.

EPISODE-1 MOONVALE SPOILERS AHEAD (MAYBE)!

[ A/N: Hello! :)

I know it's been a while since I've done this, but I finished Moonvale Episode 1 and if you've seen the ending (and used its Duskwood code), you know what happened and how excited I was to receive that bit of Duskwood. So, I took it and ran with it, and out came this extremely long fic. I did not proofread this as it took me literally almost 12 hours to write so it is completely and 100% me and my love for Jake and I hope you love it.

Side note: I suck with anything related to timelines, so I made one up on my own. I know Episode 1 of Moonvale takes place over the course of a day or two, but for the purpose of this fic, it made sense to make it longer, so it's not a typo, or me losing my mind, it's just the way my brain processed this.

Enjoy! :) ]

It’s been three months since the explosion in the mine.

Three months since Richy had been killed. Three months since Hannah was rescued. Three months since I had last spoken to Thomas or Cleo or Lilly or…or Jessy. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now. Any of them, really. I didn’t share the bond they had with each other. I wasn’t from Duskwood. It didn’t matter that we’d experienced a tragedy together—and yes, perhaps them more than me, but I loved Richy too. I had lost Richy too. And Jake—

But mostly, I think they just wanted to forget. To move on. They didn’t want to remember that their friend had been capable of…of that. And I was a constant reminder of that to them. So I understood why we didn’t necessarily talk anymore.

The one person I did keep in contact with from Duskwood, oddly enough, other than the occasional update from Alan Bloomgate, was Dan. We weren’t best friends or anything, but he allowed me to check in on our friends in a way that I didn’t know how to do with anyone else. Maybe because I thought he was the least affected among them. I knew he cared about Hannah, but he wasn’t to her what Thomas or Cleo or Lilly were. And he wasn’t to Richy what Jessy had been.

I’d learned from him that Thomas and Hannah had broken up. There was no bad blood, but Thomas hadn’t quite figured out how to accept the things he’d learned about his girlfriend when she’d been gone, and Hannah hadn’t quite figured out how to re-trust someone after Richy. Even if that person was Thomas. But I’d hoped they would find their way back to each other in the end.

I thought about reaching out to Jessy every once in a while—even just as an apology for everything that had happened. I’m sorry that Hannah was found at the expense of Richy. I’m sorry that he did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. We should have. We should have. We should have. I miss you. But I never send it. I’m not all that sure she’d respond anyway.

Cleo and I were never all that close. She has her best friend back, so I think she’s probably as okay as she can be. Helping Hannah find a new kind of normal in a time where her childhood friend had kidnapped her in order to prove a point. I don’t know how you come back from that—I don’t know how you come back from knowing that you killed somebody at all.

I hadn’t found the courage to ask if somebody had told Hannah about Jake.

Not that I think it would matter anyway. I hadn’t heard from him since before the explosion in the mine, which was, like I said—three months ago. I waited the appropriate amount of time—twenty-five days—before I broke down and concluded that maybe he hadn’t survived. Which just piled a shit-ton of guilt onto my shoulders because it was supposed to be me in that mine. He had gone in place of me and now he was dead.

It was the only explanation that made sense. I was used to Jake disappearing for days at a time, but never as long as he had been now. And he didn’t seem like the type to tell me he loved me and then leave without a single explanation. Not unless he had to. But it had been three months and as much as I missed him, as much as my chest ached with the thought that we would never eat Chinese food out of shitty motels and have that on-the-run ending we talked about, I had accepted that he wasn’t coming back.

I wonder if he had known about Richy or if he had died still thinking Michael Hanson was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. I wonder if his last thoughts were of me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I kind of hope they were, because I’m pretty sure I’ll think about him for the rest of my life.

I wonder what it would have felt like to run my hands through his hair. To kiss him. To spend every waking moment with him and know it was because I loved him. Because I would have. Talking to Jake became about more than just finding Hannah. It became a part of my day I looked forward to more than anything else. He confided in me in a way that told me he never had with anyone, maybe not even Hannah, and I needed that from somebody. I needed somebody to trust in me the way that Jake did. I needed somebody to love me the way that Jake did.

It was strange—and maybe a little ironic—the thought that something so beautiful could come out of something so tragic.

Anyway, my point is: it’s been a long couple of months. Of thinking about my friends. Of thinking about Jake. Of wondering if I should have done things differently. I should have gone to Duskwood to help. Not even with the mine, but sooner. I could have. I could’ve gone when Jessy was attacked on the way home. I could’ve gone when the group made plans to cut out of town and hide away in the house Richy had found. Selfishly, I should have. In that moment, when they were settled around the fire and Lilly called me, I had never remembered wanting anything more. I should have grabbed Jake—metaphorically, maybe even literally—and rode it out with them to the end.

I don’t stop missing them after three months. Of wishing things could have been different. Wishing I could have done more. But exactly ninety-five days after the explosion in the mine, seventy days since I had accepted that Jake was never coming back, twenty-two days since I had last heard from anybody from Duskwood (Dan included), my phone dings with a new message.

And the cycle starts all over again.

It’s somebody named Eric, who claims he needs my help to find his friend Adam, who disappeared while he was waiting for a ride in someplace called Redlog Pines. And much like with Duskwood, I have never heard of Redlog, and the case reminds me way too much of Thomas’ first message to me, so much that it makes my chest ache, but I can’t say no because there’s somebody missing, and if I’d say no the first time, God knows where Hannah would be.

So, I say yes, and I help out where I can, and Eric decides he needs to bring about four more friends in on his little plan and I try my best to stay emotionally unattached because I remember everything that happened the last time and I can’t go through that again. I offer up information when I can and keep my words short and careful because I’m not ready to get attached to somebody else I know I might never meet.

I know how this ends.

Two days in, Ash, one of Eric’s friends, brings up my Duskwood past and the unhealed wound I’ve been trying to mend breaks open again. She asks about Richy, and about the mine, and then because I’m me and I can’t help myself, I tell her about Jake. She tells me the news never mentioned another body and I shove that thought to the back of my head because hoping for something that will never come true will kill me.

Four days into Adam’s disappearance, and the police not giving a shit—as Charlie, somebody who reminds me far too much of Richy for comfort, points out—my phone beeps with an incoming call from somebody I haven’t spoken to in a while.

“Go for [MC].” I answer my phone.

Ever since Hannah had been found in the mine and Jake had…you know, my phone had been more silent than I’d gotten used to. Until this new case. But even that—it was only a few days old and I didn’t want to go down the same path with them that I did with my friends in Duskwood. We didn’t really know each other that long, sure—even though sometimes it’d felt like it—but it felt like I’d finally been a part of something. Like, I had found these people who had chosen me for me.

And originally, maybe they had. Maybe they’d had every intention of keeping me around, but then Richy was the Man Without A Face and Alan Bloomgate had rescued Hannah and nothing was the same as it had been when we’d met each other. We knew too many secrets about each other by the time the town settled. Secrets we would have to take to the grave.

Or maybe I’m losing my mind a bit and I had really only been a means to an end.

Either way.

“Alan?” I raise my voice when there’s nothing but breathing on the other end of the line. “Did you mean to call me?”

His tone is clipped. “I found something.”

“You found something.” I repeat.

My heart clenches. For all I know, it might fall into my stomach. As far I know, from watching the news, from what Ash told me, Jake’s body was never found. Richy’s was. Or what was left of him to find, anyway. I had assumed that there just hadn’t been enough of Jake left. The thought left me nauseous, but it was better than hoping for something I knew I could never have.

“I’m sending it to your phone now.” He responds. “Let me know what you think of this.”

And then he hangs up.

That was a riveting conversation, I think as my phone dings with a message. I do my best to ignore my other messages��contacts from Duskwood I’m still not ready to acknowledge—and click Alan Bloomgate. He sent me a video that looks like—oh God.

Immediately, I’m overcome with emotion as an all-too-familiar forest pops up on my phone. It’s a video of Alan’s bodycam footage. He’s searching the Duskwood forest. A forest I’ve seen too many times in the background of other video calls.

I watch as he stumbles upon an object that’s too dark to make out at first. When he gets closer, it’s clear that it’s a backpack. It’s simple. Black. Nothing about it that screams this is mine and I left it here about anybody in particular. You stupid, stupid idiot, I tell my heart when it rattles against my chest in hope. He’s dead.

Alan stands and treks away from the backpack—I want to scream at him to go back, to open it and look through it and tell me if it’s what my heart aches to believe, but I can’t, because this is a video and I’m simply watching with wide eyes, waiting for…for something. But then. But then, he moves further into the forest and I watch as he stumbles upon an object that makes my knees tremble and tears rush to my eyes and my hands shake. A black hoodie. It looks like it’s been through hell, with holes scattered up the sleeves and dirt cakes into the hood, but it’s unmistakably his.

And then—Alan lifts the hood and picks up something that makes me sink to my knees with a sob that wracks my entire frame. Because I’m staring at Jake’s mask. The mask he doesn’t go anywhere without. The mask that protects him. And so my relief is short-lived, because I realize that even if he’s alive—which seems like a very big possibility at this point—he’s alive without the things that he needs to survive.

And then the anger kicks in. Because if he’s been alive, on his own, for three months—why has he not contacted me? Unless he survived the mine but he didn’t survive the after. But that didn’t make any sense. So, okay, he wasn’t dead. But that didn’t make any sense either. He told me he wouldn’t let them catch him. Because catching that meant he would be apart from me. Did something happen that prevented him from being able to reach out and tell me he was at least okay? A quick text that said didn’t die in the explosion in the mine, you don’t need to mourn me, by the way, going off radar for another year. Did he think I would have given up on him?

I wipe my eyes and shoot a message to Alan.

ME: Recently?? Did nobody search the forests before?

ALAN: Searched the forests for what, [MC]? The logical assumption seemed to be that if anybody was inside the mine when Richy set the fire, they would have perished alongside him. Officers were stationed outside every known entrance and exit. Besides, after the story you and your friends spun around this town, do you think anybody would have gone back into its forests?

ME: But it’s possible?

ALAN: I would say these items had been there for some time. But I would say it is likely he ditched them when he fled the mine, yes.

Another sob tears through my throat. Jake is alive. I don’t know quite what that means for us as of now, but I know it’s the best news I’ve heard since Hannah was found. Jake is alive. He’s out there somewhere. And even if it’s been three months, and even if I’m a little bit mad at him right now, I know that if he was here, I would throw my arms around his neck and hold on to him until someone dragged me off, and even then—I would fight kicking and screaming.

I close out of my messages with Alan and pull up a conversation I haven’t had the heart to look at in quite some time.

ME: Jake’s alive.

LILLY: …

LILLY: Have you spoken to him?

ME: Alan called. He found some of Jake’s things in Duskwood. I don’t know a lot of details. But I know he made it out of the mine.

Lilly types for a long while, but she doesn’t respond. I don’t take it personally. I think it’s probably hard for her to be happy that her brother’s okay while also trying to accept that her sister may never be okay again. Her sister, who had once-upon-a-time been kind-of-sort-of in love with their brother she didn’t know she had. I think that would probably mess with any family’s heads. And on top of all that, you throw in manslaughter and a kidnapping. I wouldn’t wish anybody, not even my worst enemy, to have had to go through what the Donforts had.

When it becomes adamant that Lilly isn’t going to respond, I start scrolling through messages with the rest of the group in Duskwood. I click on Jessy. I’m here if you need me. That had been the last thing I sent to her, a couple of days after Richy’s death. She hadn’t responded. I click out of Jessy’s contact and click on Thomas’ instead. Thank you for everything. That had been his last message to me after we found Hannah. I’d liked it. I hadn’t expected at the time it would be the last thing we’d ever say to each other. I click out of Thomas’ and click on Richy. So, you want to turn yourself in? I’d asked. That was before he called me. Before he lit a match and burned himself and the mine to the ground. Some people would call that heroic. I mostly call him a coward.

I click on Jake’s name. It’s been a while since I read messages between the two of us. Maybe before I had accepted—thought—he was dead. In that twenty-five-day period when I’d hoped with all I’d had that he would come back. I love you. That was the last message he sent me. I’d responded with I love you too, Jake. Then, four days later: Are you okay? A week later: Jake, please, you’re starting to scare me. I know you said you would contact when you could, but it’s been a week. After twenty-five days, when I had finally accepted our fate, I’d sent one final message: I hope you know that I love you, and I will always care about you, but I think it’s time for me to move on. I’m so sorry that I sent you into the mine. It should have been me. And I will probably feel the guilt from that for the rest of my life. Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself, wherever you are.

After that, I had closed out of our messages and hadn’t looked back. Partly because I couldn’t bear the pain of it. It felt like I had given up on him. I hadn’t—if I had thought for a second that he was alive, if I knew then what I know now, I would have never sent that message. But holding out hope for somebody who I thought was a ghost at the time? That was slowly killing me.

It’s only then that I notice the screen flickering. Much like the way it used to whenever Jake would hack into my phone. I don’t think he’s much in the mood to be hacking right now, but somehow, I know it’s him. When had he done this? Recently? If I had opened our messages, would I have seen this ten—twenty—even fifty days ago? It hadn’t looked like this the last time I texted him. Did he see my last message about needing to move on? Was that why he hadn’t reached out to tell me that he was okay? Because he thought I was moving on happily without him?

No, my brain supplies. He wouldn’t. He would reach out anyway, because he knows how much the thought of him not being okay would have destroyed you.

The screen flickers once more and then a message pops up, bright and blue-tinted and clear as day on my phone.

[MC]

I WILL FIND YOU

And the world around me shifts.

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

Maybe it sounds crazy, considering I’ve never seen his face before, but I always thought that if I’d ran into Jake one day, maybe on the street or at one of those motels he stayed at or maybe even in Duskwood, surrounded by all our friends, I would know it was him. I would, because it’s him, and it’s me, and we’re the only two people who understand each other quite the way we do.

I still believe that.

I believe it when I book my flight to Duskwood (or rather, twenty miles outside of town, which is the closest airport). I believe it when I board the airplane and find a seat next to a mother with her screaming child and when I shoot off a quick text to Eric to let him know I’ll be MIA for the next few hours, but to message me if he needs anything—and I think about how much easier this case would probably be to solve if we had Jake.

Maybe it would have been harder to find Hannah without me, but I know damn well they would’ve never found her without Jake.

Dan picks me up from the airport. I haven’t told the others yet. Something about it felt off—like I shouldn’t message them and say hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m booking a flight to look into why my maybe-slash-not-really boyfriend left his belongings in a forest we really wish we could forget about, and by the way, can I crash at your place?

It’s quiet on the car ride back into town. I’m looking through my messages from Eric and the group from Redlog Pines and thinking about how I’m Duskwood with this group and I want so badly to laugh because it’s ironic, but Dan wouldn’t understand. He might just call me crazy. Better yet, he would ask how I manage to get myself into these situations, and really, I don’t have an answer for him.

“How have you been?” I ask, just to break the tension, as Charlie, in my messages, tries to persuade his friends to head back into that creepy cave in the middle of the forest. He’s going to get someone killed, I think.

Dan looks over at me. “Are you still with Hackerman?”

My chest squeezes. “His name is Jake, Dan. And we were never really together.”

“Hm.” He nods like he doesn’t quite believe me. “You already know mostly everything that’s been happening here. Thomas and Hannah called it quits. They say it was some mutual decision, but it’s hard to find them in the same room together. Jessy hasn’t been out with us since. I think we remind her too much of Richy. The group’s all changed.”

“And you?” I ask.

He gives me a cheshire-like grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m always the same.”

We make it to Duskwood just as the sun’s going down. Much too late for me to try and trek through the forest and retrace the steps Jake might have taken that night. Not that I think it would help give me any clues as to where he might have gone, but mostly because I wonder if it will make me feel closer to him. We’ve never been in the same place before, and even if he’s not there now—he once was.

“Can you drop me at the police station?”

Dan blinks. “The police station.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“We answered their questions for weeks, [MC]. I don’t think anything you have to tell them at this point is going to help. The investigation’s closed. Everybody knows Richy did it. He died with the fire in the mine. Everybody’s trying to move on from that.” He works his jaw. “Did you come here to open old wounds after all this time?”

I try not to show the hurt look on my face. “This isn’t about Richy. Look, Alan called me. He asked if I could look at some things. I figured it was better for me to do it in person. That’s it. Nothing to do with Richy. Nothing to do with Jessy. Nothing to do with you.”

He sighs, and I’m not entirely sure he’s going to abide by my wishes until we pull in front of a tiny building—tinier than most—that says Duskwood Police on the sign. Duskwood must not have that much crime. Well, not until this, I suppose.

“Thank you.” I tell him as I reach over to undo my seatbelt and climb out of the car. “This is a nice ride, by the way.”

He raises a hand in some mock-salute. “Need me to pick you up?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Think I’ll explore the town for a little bit.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and then he’s off.

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before opening the door to the police station. It wasn’t like Alan asked me to come down here. He hadn’t. Even during the investigation into Richy’s death and Hannah’s kidnapping, when he questioned us, he never asked me to come to Duskwood. We’d done way too many video calls and phone calls and at one point, I had asked if he thought it would be easier for me to come to Duskwood, to which he responded back, are you ready for that?

No, I hadn’t been. I’m not even so sure I was now. But knowing that Jake was alive, that here was the last place was, I had to try.

“Can I help you?” The woman at the front desk asks.

I clear my throat. “I was wondering if I could speak to Alan Bloomgate. I’m one of—I was involved in the Hannah Donfort case. My name is [MC].”

Her eyes widen. “Give me a moment.” She stands and heads to some back office—which looks to me more like a closet—and then returns with a clipped smile. “He’ll be right out.”

Apparently, she isn’t lying, because not two minutes later, Alan is stepping out from the same door and staring me down. I hold his gaze and hope it says that I’m not here to argue. I will tell him my truth, but only my truth, not Hannah’s, not Jake’s, not anybody else’s.

“I was wondering when I would see you.” He says.

I shrug one shoulder. “Isn’t a few months later better than never?”

“Let’s go into my office.” He says, and leads me around the desk and back into the closet space he had come out of. He sits behind the desk and motions for me to take a seat opposite him. “I’m just going to guess you’re not here to talk about Miss Donfort.”

“I want to see them.” I tell him. “His things. I want to see them for myself. And whatever you want from me in return, I’ll give to you.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, [MC].”

“He isn’t a game to me.” I snap back and then sit back and try to relax. “I appreciate that you called me. It’s—I helped you find Hannah. I would do it again. Even with knowing the things that we do now, I would do it all again. That’s how much that group means to me. That’s how much he means to me. I’m not asking you to break any rules or to lie for him or to—to let him hide in your basement for the next five years. I’m just asking you to show me what you found.”

He stares me down for a moment. Then, he sighs, says “wait here for a minute” and disappears to another room. When he comes back, it’s with an evidence bag in his hand filled with the objects I saw on his bodycam footage. My breath hitches in my throat.

“I can’t let you touch them.” He says as he lays them in front of me.

I stare into the eyes of the mask. “Did you tell anybody that he’s alive?”

“I don’t know that he’s alive,” is all the answer he gives, which is an answer to my question. I slide my gaze down to the black hoodie, to the dirtied sleeves and muddy hood, and think about the fact that Jake wore this. I’m so close to him.

And yet I’ve never been further away from him.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “For—for this. And for listening to me about Hannah. If you hadn’t, I—I don’t know what would have happened. How much longer he would have gone on for. If he would have ever stopped.”

Alan’s silent for a minute. Then, he clears his throat. “You know, it was strange to me. Both Hannah and yourself swore to me that neither of you knew the other.”

“I don’t.” I swear.

It was one of the (albeit many) things that didn’t make sense to me. How Hannah got a hold of my number. How she sent it to Thomas. She’d told Alan she hadn’t really remembered texting him my number at all.

“I believe you.” He reassures. “I just think it’s strange. One mistake, if you can call it that, and you throw yourself into a missing persons case to help a stranger.”

“They’re not strangers.” Even though Hannah is kind of still a stranger.

“But they were.” Alan reasons. “You had no reason to say yes to helping Thomas. I doubt anybody would have held it against you if you turned the other way. But you decided to follow this until the end. To make sure they found Hannah. And you care about them. Maybe that’s why I find that I’m more lenient with you than maybe I should be. Why you’re sitting across from me right now calling the shots. Why I’m not asking you about the hacker.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you did.” I look him in the eye so he knows I’m telling the truth.

He returns my gaze. “Maybe that’s the other reason.”

“Hm.” I acknowledge before I turn my gaze away—from him, from the objects that I know belong to Jake and it takes everything in me not to snatch them up and run. “Well. Thank you for allowing me to steal some of your time. For letting me—” I cut myself off before I say something that makes me break down in a fit of tears in front of him. “—just thank you.”

Leaving the station is easier than coming in. I’m still not any closer to knowing where Jake is than I was when I arrived here, but there’s a comfort in knowing he walked these streets. I wonder what he would think if he knew I was here. He hadn’t wanted me to come to Duskwood when everything was happening…but now that it was over, would he be happy that I was here? That I had come to Duskwood to piece together where he might have gone? Would he track my location and come to find me and…or was I grasping at straws?

It felt like I had just gotten him back. Not really, not entirely…but knowing that he was alive, that he was out there somewhere, maybe thinking of me and looking for ways to come back, to live the life we talked about when he asked me if I was sure…that was worth it. The thought that we could maybe someday have that—even if it was a twenty percent chance.

I check my phone again to see a new message from Ash. She’s asking me if I’ve heard from Charlie in the last few hours. Apparently, he’s AWOL, and I want to help, really, but…it doesn’t really feel like that’s where I am at the moment. Not just physically—obviously—but mentally. We got lucky with Hannah. And that was really only because we had Jake. Adam didn’t have a Jake. Or…maybe he did and I just hadn’t met him yet. But I already had a Jake and I didn’t want another one.

Maybe—if I found him, I could convince him to help. That was a big maybe. Not because I thought Jake would say no. He would say yes to anything I asked of him. The maybe was whether or not I could find him. More likely, the maybe was whether or not he would find me.

Three months ago, I would have been able to come to Duskwood and have no shortage of things I wanted to do and people I wanted to see. Now, as I stand outside Duskwood’s police station, I feel nothing but loneliness. Nobody knows I’m here. I could pass Thomas on the street and he wouldn’t even know it. I could run into Jessy at the library and she would walk by me without even a second thought. Why would they? I hadn’t told them I was here.

So, with nothing left to do, I walked. Toward the town center. Toward the library that Jessy showed me on our walk through Duskwood. Toward the Rainbow Café where I knew that Cleo and Hannah had spent a lot of their time. Toward the Black Swan. Toward—

Ah, what the hell.

I had nothing better to do and The Aurora seemed like a great place to drown my sorrows. To think about my next steps. To figure out—now that I was in Duskwood—what I planned to do. The thing about Jake being so secretive (and on the run) was that I couldn’t retrace his steps. I wasn’t able to ask if anyone had seen him. One, because he would make sure nobody had. And two, because three months was a long time to forget somebody’s face if you didn’t know who you were looking for.

I pull open the door to the bar and step inside. Immediately, I’m hit with the stench of whiskey and a handful of chatter. Duskwood’s a small town. And The Aurora definitely proves it. The bartenders move melodically around each other, serving patrons on the other side of the bar. If you walk down further, there’s a handful of tables.

And dead in the center is a table with my friends. Or, some of them. Dan and Cleo and Lilly. Could I still call them my friends? Ex-friends, maybe? Acquaintances? I didn’t know what they were. Or how to address them. It wasn’t like we had gotten into a fight. We didn’t stop talking for any reason other than that we did. We stopped talking.

I make a beeline for the bar to avoid a confrontation and plant myself on one of the stools. One of the bartenders—a girl cute with bleach blonde hair and brown Bambi eyes—asks what I want and I channel my inner Dan to order a whiskey—neat.

Looking over my shoulder, I focus on the table of them. On Lilly, who’s smiling at something Cleo said. On Dan, who’s the only one of them who actually knows I’m here. But even he’s focused on the conversation they’re having. It’s strange—to see Dan a part of something I’m not sure he would have been before. It’s nice.

“[MC]?”

I turn my head away from the table of my friends and focus my attention across the bar on someone I should’ve expected to see. “Phil.”

“I thought I recognized your voice from when we talked.” He smiles. “I wasn’t sure, but I saw you staring longingly at them—” He nods towards Dan and Cleo and Lilly. “—and I knew. What brings you around here? I expected you to show up maybe a few months ago, but by now, I thought you’d moved on without us.”

I was tired of the words move on. Like I’d had a choice. Like the people from this town might open their arms and welcome me back into their lives. So I’d been part of the group who’d saved Hannah Donfort. So had a lot of people. It didn’t make me special and everyone here knew it.

I offer him a smile in return. “I’m looking for somebody.”

“Anybody I know?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. At least nobody you would recognize.” I pause. “How’s Jessy?”

“She’s—Jessy.” He answers, like that is an answer. “I don’t know if she’ll ever really be okay with the way things happened with Richy. I wouldn’t expect her to. Obviously. But I don’t know. I think I just thought she would have gone back to her normal life by now. And then I remember that most of her life revolved around him. He was her best friend. She worked for him. And I’m trying to be patient about that. But—” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“She doesn’t know I’m in town.”

“Okay.” He hums. “So, you’re not in town for my sister. And you’re not in town for your group of friends because they’re over there and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. There’s always Hannah, but I don’t think you knew her that well. Or at all. Would I be right to assume this is about a certain hacker who helped to find Hannah?”

“He didn’t help find Hannah.” I defend. “He was the entire reason we found Hannah. I would have never been able to do it on my own. Even with the others’ help. He’s the only reason we found out about—” I pause before I say something I maybe shouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the only reason we found her. Everything I did was just dumb luck.”

“That wasn’t what the news said.” A voice cuts in and I turn my attention from Phil to focus on the stranger that slides into the seat beside me. Not too close—a couple inches away. I don’t recognize him. I don’t know him. But I don’t know every person in Duskwood. Maybe a total of like nine or ten. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But I heard you had a lot to do with finding Hannah Donfort. The news said you were some kind of hero.”

I offer him a tight smile. “That’s nice of them. But…if they knew my—friend—knew what he did to find her, I don’t think I would be as much of a hero as everybody says.”

“That’s noble.” He says, eyes meeting mine, and it strikes me at once how handsome he is. He has dark hair. Bright green eyes. Focus, [MC]. I scold. You have a…a someone.

My phone buzzes.

ERIC SENT A PHOTO.

ERIC: What do you make of this?

I sigh and click on the photo. It’s of—some object. Much like the one that was addressed to me on the envelope in Adam’s glove compartment. The image is a bit different—but I don’t know enough about what it means to have an answer as to why.

ME: Was this one addressed to me?

ERIC: Nope. Ash.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks.

I clear my throat. “I’m a popular person—apparently.” A thought strikes. “Have you ever heard of a place called Redlog Pines?”

Phil frowns. “No.”

I turn to look at the stranger. “You?”

“Redlog Pines is a small town about two hundred miles north of Duskwood.” He answers. “Known for their wooded forests, much like Duskwood.”

“Why are you looking into a place with forests as creepy as ours?” Phil asks, incredulously. “Didn’t you get enough of that with Hannah’s case?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “You would think.”

“Hey, [MC]!”

I wince at the sound of Dan’s voice. Shooting Phil a look that screams please help me to which he shakes his head amusedly, I turn and plaster on a fake smile as I take in the shocked looks on Cleo and Lilly’s faces. I should have known better than to come to The Aurora and talk to Phil when the three of them were having a conversation across the room. I should have known they would sooner or later see me. I just hoped it was later.

“Hey.” I hop off my stool and make my way across the bar to them. “It’s, uh, fancy seeing the three of you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Cleo asks.

“I haven’t really figured that out.” My eyes meet Lilly’s. “It sounds crazy to say it out loud. But I was hoping that—I’m not sure if Lilly told you—”

“That Jake’s alive.” Cleo nods. “None of us ever really thought he wasn’t.”

I don’t think she means it as a dig—but it still feels like one. Like she’s saying you gave up on him you gave up on him you gave up on him even though she’s not and she didn’t really know him and the only person I can talk to at this table who even might understand is Lilly and even—Jake didn’t confide in her the way he did me.

“Right.” I acknowledge. “So I thought that maybe if I came here, I could trace his steps from when he was here and—I haven’t really thought that far ahead. It’s not like I thought he left me any clues in the forest or anything like that. I don’t think he expected me to be here. He hadn’t wanted me to be the last time we talked. But that was before everything happened.”

Lilly’s eyes track behind me. “Does Jake still have Nymos on your phone?”

“Uh.” I furrow my brows. “I think so. I hadn’t heard from him in a while, but I went back and read through our messages after I talked to Alan and…my phone glitched, like it used to when Jake had hacked it. And then this message appeared on my screen.”

“And by chance, can Nymos track your location?”

“What—” I shake my head. “Maybe. I don’t think I ever really asked him. It didn’t seem necessary at the time.”

“Uh huh.” She focuses on me once more. “Let’s say, for one minute, that Jake has access to Nymos who has access to your location.”

Cleo must catch onto something I’m not sure of. “Jake didn’t want you here.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She waves me off. “He didn’t want you in Duskwood. He had been adamant about that when we were talking about the mine. That’s why he went. If you showed up in Duskwood—”

“Nymos would have alerted him.” Dan finishes.

“Okay…” I’m not entirely sure I’m on the same page as them. “So—you think that Jake found out when I came to Duskwood.”

“Correct.” Lilly beams like she just solved life’s greatest mystery.

“And you think he would—come find me?”

She smiles sympathetically at me—like I’m the world’s biggest idiot for not realizing what she has been trying to say sooner. “I think he already has.”

“You think Jake��s in Duskwood.” I deadpan.

“[MC].” Cleo grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “We think he’s in this bar.”

Stranger, as I had nicknamed him—AKA the guy sitting beside me at the bar, with Phil and Redlog Pines (which he probably only knew about because of me) and the whole Hannah being kidnapped and not taking any of the credit thing—was looking back at me. So was Phil. Like they thought I was the crazy one. Like it would’ve been so hard for him to look and me and say it’s me or anything that might have clued me into the fact that—

“Jake?” I whisper, because I’ve lost quite a bit of sleep over the past couple of months and I’m not one hundred percent sure what—or who—I’m seeing is real. “Are you here?”

He tilts his head and smiles at me. Actually smiles. A bit shyly, like it’s something he’s not used to doing, but maybe like it’s something he could get used to. And I think about how terrible I probably look right now because I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is tousled from constantly pulling at it and my clothes are wrinkled from the plane and the police station and I look like a mess. But our relationship has never been about looks. Clearly. I didn’t even know the person I’d been talking to until Lilly and Cleo and even Dan pointed out the obvious.

“If I—” I close my eyes and open them again. Nope. Still there. “I need you to still be there by the time I reach you because it’s been a—” I sniffle. “—it’s been a rough few months and I don’t think I could handle you disappearing again.”

He stands from the stool he was sitting on and shuffles his feet. Like he’s not quite sure where he’s supposed to stand. If he thinks about moving, I’ll tackle him onto the floor of The Aurora and then apologize to Phil later. It feels like everything I wanted is right here in front of me. And I’m scared to death that it’s not real.

“What’s one thing you would take with you if you were stranded on an island?”

His smile stretches. “My computer.”

And that—that’s what breaks me. I think I might start blubbering like an idiot but I don’t remember the time it takes for me to cross the measly twenty feet between us. All I remember is grabbing his black hoodie—because of course—and dragging him to me. I don’t kiss him, despite how much I want to, because I don’t want our first kiss to be tainted with my snot and tears. Instead, I bury my face in his collarbone and wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

Because I can. Because he isn’t dead.

“Y—You’re here.” I pull back and cup his face with my hands. “How are you here?”

“You came to Duskwood.” He responds, and then—hesitantly—he presses his lips to my forehead in a kiss. “Alan called you.”

“He found your things in the forest.” I whisper back. “He said they’d been there a while. The police hadn’t searched the forest because they assume you died in the mine.”

“They aren’t looking for me here.” He confirms. “I didn’t expect it to take so long for them to find my belongings, but I anticipated that you would find out. At the time, it wasn’t safe for me to reach out and contact you. They kept on my trail for a while before they assumed I died in the mine with Richy.”

“Why didn’t you contact me then?” I ask. “Is it because of what I last messaged you? I didn’t mean it—I swear, I thought you were dead. If I had known you were alive, I would have waited, however long it took. I wasn’t trying to give up on you.”

“Hey.” He places both hands on either side of my face. “I know. I know that, [MC]. That was never why I didn’t reach out to you. I know you said you wanted this life with me. But I didn’t want that for you. But I was selfish. I couldn’t let you go. So I was trying to find a way to make both of those things true. But I was always coming back to you.”

“And did you?”

“Come back to you?” He asks.

I sniffle. “Find a way to make both of those things true.”

“Not entirely.” He admits. “Nymos alerted me you had boarded a plane headed in the direction of Duskwood and I—” He shook his head. “I knew I would find you here.”

“You could have found me sooner.”

He lets go of my face and he feels like he takes my skin with him. “It wasn’t that easy.”

“It could have been.” I demand.

I’m angry again. Now that I know he’s alive and okay and that he could have found me, I’m angry that he didn’t. I told him I would choose that life with him. Over and over and over. He didn’t need to make the decision for me. He didn’t need to try and protect me. And yes, maybe the fact that he did makes my heart flutter a tiny little bit, but that’s besides the point.

“I told you before you left me.” I tell him and I’m aware it sounds like we’ve been in a relationship for five years and I’m aware that everybody in here is watching and listening in on our conversation and they probably all know we’re who we are, two people involved in helping to find the kidnapped Hannah Donfort, and maybe that’s all we’ll ever be in this town. But I would rather be the girl who found Hannah Donfort in Duskwood with him than be me anywhere else. “You told me you would let me go with you.”

“That was before I told you I loved you.”

My heart skips a beat. It screams I love you I love you I love you back, but I say— “What does that have to do with anything?”

He looks somewhat amused. Like he knows I would never hold it against him. It’s clear to both of us that I wouldn’t because even though I’m glaring up at him with my furrowed eyebrows and my lips pouted, I’m still pressed tightly against him. His hands—even though they’ve moved from my face—are now resting on my hips. Pulling my tighter to him. There’s no space in between us. If it was up to me, I’m pretty sure there never would be again.

“[MC].” He says, and oh god I wish he would say my name every day for the rest of his life. “Have I—in the short time we have known each other—ever struck you as the type of person who says I love you? But with you…” His words are a whisper against my lips. “It’s easy to fall back into old emotions with you.”

“I want to be angry with you.” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” I agree. “But I might be if you don’t kiss me.”

He brought one finger underneath my chin and tilted it up until our lips were separated by a fraction of an inch. My eyelids fluttered. I didn’t care that everyone in here was about to see just how much Jake meant to be. I didn’t care because I had waited too long for this. And then—just as I’m leaning toward him to press our lips together, he whispers— “[MC]?”

“Hm.” I acknowledge.

“Who’s Eric?”

My eyelids crack open and I shove at his chest. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? Here I am, in front of you, covered in snot and tears and who-knows-what-else because you’re here right now, and you’re worried about some guy I don’t even know?”

“Who’s Eric?” He repeats.

“Ugh.” I run my hands through my hair and take a step back. “I don’t know. He’s the other side of Thomas or whatever you want to call him. If we lived in a different town.” I glare back at him and try not to admit that I think his jealous side is a little cute. “He messaged me. Thought I picked up his friend from some parking lot and I didn’t, but his friend sent him my number, and it was Hannah all over again. I’m trying to help them.”

“This Adam has been sending you a lot of videos.”

“You know I hate when you hack my phone.” I complain, even though I really don’t. Even though I had prayed for him to help me with this case. “I really don’t know Adam. Like—even less than I know Eric.

“But you know Eric.”

“For like a week.” I reassure. “He added me to this group chat with him and like three other friends of his. They’re desperate to find Adam who has apparently dropped off the face of the earth and I don’t know what to do. I had you with Hannah’s case. And you knew her. And they—” I look over my shoulder at Cleo and Dan and Lilly, who are pretending like they’re not listening in even though I know and Jake knows they are. “—they knew her. And obviously Adam’s friends must know him but I don’t and you don’t and there is no Jake in Redlog Pines.”

“I don’t trust him.” He shakes his head. “Any of them.”

I laugh. “Jake, you didn’t trust half the people in this bar when we first started talking.” I look over at Phil and then Dan. “It doesn’t mean they committed a crime. If I had backed off when you asked me to help you find Hannah, we may never have.”

“I thought that was all thanks to me.” He sounds smug, like that little smiley face he loved to annoy me with (AKA make me fall in love with him). “Did he flirt with you?”

“No.” I deadpan. “I think he was focused on his missing friend.”

“I was focused on my missing sister.” He shoots back.

I close my mouth. Alright. He has a point. But I wasn’t flirting with Eric. He was focused on finding Adam and I was focused on mourning—and then finding—Jake. Maybe it felt like Eric and I were two sides of the same coin. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help him. Because I didn’t want to happen to him what I thought had happened to Jake—to me.

“You’re being ridiculous.” I say instead. “How do you think I could ever entertain the idea of being with somebody else when for the past three months—more than that if you count the time we have actually had together—I’ve been focused on you? On discussing Hannah with you and then talking to you about anything and everything and then worrying about you and then hating you a little for convincing me you should me the one to go into the mine and then mourning you when it was hard to even think about you and then finding you?”

His eyes are wide. I think I’ve rendered him speechless. Which—serves him right. I know he’s not somebody who serves their feelings up on a silver platter. I know that. Obviously, I knew that from the first time I spoke to him. Back when he was nothing more than ??? and I was almost convinced that Dan was right and he was the Man Without A Face—a thought that I now hate with everything in me. But I need him to trust me. Jealousy streak and FBI and the missing persons cases aside, he needs to trust me.

“Trust me.” I cup the sides of his face again. “He’s nothing like you.”

He swallows. “Some people might consider that to be a perk.”

“I don’t.” I say.

And then I’m kissing him and it feels like coming home.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #duskwood jake #duskwood jake x mc #moonvale everbyte #moonvale #duskwood fanfic #duskwood mc #everbyte game #everbyte studios

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abbyfmc · 30 days ago

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Yanderetober 7/10

Yandere Scientific Abomination! x Female Scientist! Reader:

TW: Mention of torture, stalking and murder. MDNI +18!!

It's been some time since you left the abandoned premises of the old psychiatric hospital.

You were one of the low-level scientists who bragged about how they experimented on people, mostly men and women of different ages, who were criminals sentenced to life imprisonment or capital punishment, or who were mentally ill.

You saw how cold and sometimes cruel they were with the "patients" (experiment subjects), but your superiors forced you to keep quiet about what happened there in exchange for paying you very well and giving you good future recommendations. You tolerated it to a certain extent because of the needs you faced at that time.

Among all the subjects, there was him.

His name was Alan, and he was a psychiatric patient who developed amnesia and post-traumatic stress disorder after the heartbreaking loss of his family, leaving him alone as a survivor.

Of all of them, you were the one who treated everyone the best, including Alan. You once stopped him from attempting suicide with pills, something he deeply admired about you.

You felt sorry for what they did to him, and more than once you tried to help him, but your superiors had you under threat and surveillance, which limited your options. This, added to the fact that Alan tragically lost his family; his loneliness, depression, the guilt he felt, the torture he faced day after day and the little affection you gave him; made him fall madly in love with you. At first he developed simple emotional dependence, but ended up becoming obsessed with you.

Sooner or later you started to notice changes in his appearance.

-What… happened to you?- You asked him in bewilderment, watching strange lumps form on his face, neck, and back.

-Oh, (Y/n)!, nice to see you again!- He sat on the bed, smiling at you like a happy lover. -I don't really know what these bumps are, but they bother me a lot.- They looked like early stages of a fungus or skin cyst formations, leaving visible veins and arteries and taking on a fleshy red hue. This was just the beginning.

He grew hungrier and hungrier as his appearance grew worse and bigger. Every time you went to see him, you swore he barely let you leave the room until you ran away or escaped.

His mental state also worsened, and with it his obsession with you. You were practically the only thing that kept him sane until that fateful day.

Alan had completely mutated and turned into a complete monster, becoming the yandere scientific abomination that he eventually became. He brutally murdered the vast majority of the staff, including some subjects of future experiments who had tried to escape.

You were one of the only people who managed to save themselves.

Local authorities tried hard for years to cover up this event, but other survivors (apart from you), speculation, myths, legends and the internet itself made this impossible and slowly the history of the place and what may have caused its closure began to be revealed.

But what they didn't know was that there was a monster on the loose; or they didn't know that at first.

You, on the other hand, were looking for a way to continue with your life despite your traumas from that place. After your superiors died in that massacre, you made an anonymous report on the internet telling EVERYTHING that happened within the walls of that center, and then you moved to another city. Despite all the therapy you took, you never returned to normal.

-(Y/n)! Where are you?!- He wondered as he searched for you in and out of that facility. No matter how much he screamed your name or how much he trashed the rooms and furniture in the place, he just couldn't find you anywhere.

While you tried to continue with your life, Alan was looking for you after escaping from abandoned facilities, which made several of their sightings noticed.

The scientific/Alan abomination was looking for you everywhere. It was hidden in forests, alleys, warehouses or abandoned/lonely or forest sites; He hunted wild animals, unsuspecting domestic animals, rodents, plants and human beings that was on his way.

You were no stranger to these sightings, having come across photos and videos online, which made you even more paranoid. The photos showed a humanoid mass of reddish flesh, with multiple eyes in what were once "cysts"; living roots sprouted from several limbs, and it also had sharp teeth. What terrified you the most was that this thing was looking for you.

-"That creature often asks for a certain (Y/n)"-.

-"Yes, he usually calls her out loud, but why?"- And that's how your name came up again on those internet forums. You were afraid people would find out, especially now that you had a decent job.

Time passed and Alan didn't find you until he managed to move to your current city thanks to the lush forests between cities; taking a while to locate you.

One night, you woke up at 3:00 AM to strange noises outside your house. Frightened, you grabbed your phone and a bat and headed to your living room.

There is nothing to be heard but the clumsy footsteps of whoever was outside; the rain and your own footsteps, as well as your nervous breathing. Suddenly, there is a soft knock on the door.

You looked through the small hole in the front door and your body froze at the sight of Alan on the other side, making you jump in fear.

-<No... It can't be...>- You said in your thoughts in a terrified way, feeling your breathing accelerate at the appearance of his macabre smile.

-(Y/n), darling, i know you're there- He whispered in his guttural voice, then slammed the door and entered.

-I found you- Before you can do anything, he lunges at you and forces you to throw the bat and your phone away, breaking both objects.

-Let me go! I didn't mean to hurt you! My superiors…- You tried to excuse yourself with fear, but he only replied:

-They forced you, I know. What matters now is that you are with me again, as it should always have been.- With his long tongue he tasted your face as he held you motionless on the ground. You didn't know what he planned to do to you; whether to eat you whole, simply kill you, or spread any spores he could on you.

But one thing was certain, and that was that Alan would never let you go again.

-The End.

#yandere #yandere oc #cw yandere #yandere love #yandere x you #yandere male #platonic yandere #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere boy #yandere core

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midgetmoth · 17 days ago

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I have realized somehing with the news of a possible Farmer Vic. I looked back at “The Box” episode, and rewatched a specific scene.

The lasso scene. I never really considered it, but Vic knows how to use that lasso very, very well. During the scene, we as the audience see this as a callback to the first episode Victim was introduced into. The video that showed him and his clone using the different tools to fight against their creator.

But this is very different with the context of how GOOD Victim is at using the lasso tool. He didn’t just learn to use it, he learned to master it. He snagged Chosen out of the air-

-and then brought him in. Closing the distance, pulling on the rope until-

-he tugged on the end and brought Chosen straight to him.

To anyone, this was a clear message to Vic’s capabilities with working with tools, but what stood out to me was the scene that happens immediately after.

Chosen starts attempting to flee from Vic, dazed and already pinned, and Victim?

.. He cracks the whip, showing his strength behind the hit, the anger. The camera then slowly zooms in on Chosen-

Its this slow, subtle rise in music that we suddenly understand what’s going on. Chosen knows who this is now, Chosen suddenly remembers exactly who this is.

Everyone has been joking about how Farmer Vic’s home is about to get nuked by fire in the next AVA drop, but if that is the context: Everything lines up.

Victim having a reason to hurt Chosen, Chosen not even remembering who Victim is despite destroying his home, Victim’s cold reaction to seeing the Dark Lord getting nuked by Second(Orange) in the scene where it shows his death.

Everything suddenly makes sense. Victim isn’t just attacking Chosen because he can.

Victim isn’t just getting his revenge on Alan.

He is shaming the god who hurt his friends. The animals, the sticks who took Victim in upon his first fall down to the lands he’s now stuck in.

He was casted by his god to die, but was saved by strangers. He was given a home with cattle and lamb, given food and comfort. For once in his life he was safe and free from pain.

Then Chosen and Dark came along, born from the same god that had casted Victim aside. The same god who now unwilling unleashed hell upon the lands.

Victim would have watched his new friends and family burn. He could have watched the horror happen right in front of him. He hates the hollows for what they did, reminding him of his past creator, of his past in general. Filled with grief and sorrows he wished to swallow down, but instead was forced to live with.

So he hatched a plan, one to be seen by us, but in my opinion? He’s already succeeded in half of his plan.

He has humiliated the so-called “God” “, “The Chosen One”, and “The Dark Lord” is dead. Two threats now no longer threats. Now all he needs to do is reach Alan.

.. but then what? What happens when the smoke clears, when Alan is gone? Will he return to his life before? Will he try to leave behind his men and venture on to finally find his peace? Will he feel complete or content with his decisions?

Will he finally feel okay to grieve? To cry for what he has lost? To hold the remains of what was his first real life? Will he feel remorseful to those he hurt along the way? Will he ever say sorry or forgive any who hurt him?

If you ask me, no. I don’t think he ever will say sorry or forgive anyone, and he has a right to. He was born to be nothing more then a Victim to other’s crimes. He was born to be nothing more then a Victim to other’s wrath. He never deserved to be hurt, he never deserved to be tormented by a god that should have loved him.

Victim deserved to be happy. He deserved to have friends, play games, venture to new lands, see the beauty of life and enjoy it. He deserved to be held as he cried, hugged closely when scared, and protected when threatened.

Victim, Vic, deserved to live, and not suffer.

but because of Alan’s actions, because of Dark and Chosen’s actions, he does.

and now it’s no longer Vic who’s becoming the Victim.

#ava #animation vs animation #animation vs animator #alan becker #ava victim #Me ranting #and theory making #Dont mind me #Moth rambles #Ava

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siren-nate · 7 months ago

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I was thinking about the Chosen One, as I'm always doing, and... I realized something really disheartening.

Chosen has never won a fight while fighting for the right side.

His first fight with Alan? Right before he can teach him the lesson he deserved, he's captured and enslaved by Avast! for years. His second fight with Alan? He comes out on top this time, but it was that victory and the subsequent rampages that made the Dark Lord, his only ally, go off the deep end.

His grudge match with Dark? He's holding the advantage most of the fight, but is immediately overwhelmed when Dark puts on the wristbands. Even when he goes full bash brothers mode with Alan, the high point of their character arcs where they mutually forgive each other and work together as an incredible team, they lose to the ViraBot army. To add insult to injury, that practically nullifies his earlier win against the singular ViraBot.

The Mercs? We don't even see the fight that preceded it - we begin in media res with Chosen full-bore fleeing. His fight with Victim in the Box? What fight? That was a torture session where Victim was holding all the cards from the very beginning.

It just really has to sting. Imagine being THE strongest person in your universe 99% of the time, and one day, you look back and realize that every single time you were fighting for the right cause, you completely and utterly lost. Your only victories came when you were still a villain. You are a being created for and defined by your world-shaking strength, and you are always being overtaken by villains who are careful strategists, making concerted efforts to never give you a chance to breathe until you're worn down and defeated.

It gets hard to feel like you're living up to the name "The Chosen One".

#I really hope he comes out of Episode 6 with a big win entirely of his own #Not just because of this but because frankly I feel like he's getting Power Creeped #Not COMPLETELY but I'm seeing early warning signs #animator vs. animation #alan becker #the dark lord #the chosen one #animator vs animation #ava tdl #ava tco

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puppy-phum · 2 months ago

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Pit Babe Characters x Cartomancy ➣ Part 2: Alan & Jeff

King of Hearts: A caregiver and a protector. Others look for them for guidance and reassurance. Eight of Diamonds: Focusing on the bigger picture. Keeping an eye out for any problems or errors.

for @pitbabeanniversary week 2 prompts: alan & jeff

(more thoughts under the cut!)

disclaimer: i am not an expert in either cartomancy or tarot reading. i did a lot of research on these two sites to come up with these cards for the characters. some of the meanings associated with the cards are still only my own interpretation, so they might not be completely accurate.

continuing to analyze the characters of pit babe through playing cards by saying a few words of my fave couple in the series ^^

alan: king of hearts was a very obvious choice for alan. the descriptions say that this card represents a "family man" and i instantly knew it was going to be alan's card. he is the dad of the group after all, the caregiver, the guardian to his own bunch of lost boys. he would give everything to those he loves and the others know this. they look up to him and think of him as the rock, as someone to lean on and someone to keep them safe. he is their financial and emotional support and often makes the final decisions.

but his position is also hard to keep, and the duty he's taken upon carrying sets alan up to failure throughout the story. he asks a lot from himself, and so he fails over and over again: he fails to protect his boys, fails to offer them proper guidance and support, fails with money and their plans and with understanding them all. i think he convinces himself of his complete failure as a guardian when dean first betrays them and then when way eventually dies. he thinks those events were somehow his fault. if he had been better and had noticed something off sooner, would way still be alive? and if he had been able to give more, would dean be happier now? he carries all of this alone, and so i thought "family" was both his gift and a burden.

jeff: just like with charlie, it was a bit harder to interpret jeff through these cards. i initially placed him somewhere amongst spades – problems and bad omens seem to be his specialty. but then i saw the description for this one and got caught on the mention of "eyes". that seemed to click bc what else is jeff but the eyes of the group, the seer of everything? he's that both willingly and unwillingly, always around when things are looking down, always witnessing all these events yet unable to do anything but watch.

that's why the edit itself turns into a collection of moments when jeff is reduced to an observer, someone who is unable to do anything but watch. as someone who sees the future but cannot affect it, he must be sick of this position. he needs to watch others suffer, knowing the pain was coming but incapable of stopping it. his apology to alan echoes in my ears – him blaming himself for way's death. it's hard to let go and not fight the future when you know it will hurt those you care about. i get why jeff has tried to remain alone and i admire his bravery for opening his heart and stepping out of his cave. he's an essential part of the group and does his very best to offer comfort when he cannot do anything else to help.

as a pair, alan and jeff are a bit special as they're the only fully red pair amongst these card duos. they're a mix of hearts and diamonds, a perfect balance of emotion and intelligence, heart and mind. no wonder alan so easily opens up to jeff and allows himself to rely on the youngster's guidance, while jeff cannot help but go soft in front of alan's genuine love and care for others. they're a match made in heaven, even in this :'D

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illmoraineakoi · 20 days ago

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I think it would be funny if the "Victim builds a chicken coop" was put in as a joke option and Alan is absolutely bewildered that all of us are going wild hoping it's real.

Alan you can't tease us with cute Victim stuff. We are so desperate for Victim to get a redemption arc that we will cling to any little shred of hope that he's not a complete lost cause.

#alan becker #newsletter spoilers #ava #ava Victim #A part of me is concerned that “Chicken Coop” might be a nickname for something a lot more sinister than a literal chicken coop...#This episode is going to break our hearts I just know it #I can FEEL it

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elizabethemerald · 2 years ago

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Summoning the Cat

DP X DC prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien-2

Danny attempts to summon his sister via a ghostly spell circle as a prank but instead keeps accidentally summoning the bat boys of Gotham instead. He even accidentally summons Bat-cow instead when he tries to summon Cujo. Annoyed and confused, Danny disconnects the summoning quickly each time. Finally, when Plasmius takes an attack a little too far, Danny attempts to summon his mom to snap some sense into him. Instead of summoning Maddie Fenton he summons Selina Kyle who had a lost a child that was hers and Bruce’s when the child was baby. Turns out Danny is a SelinaxBruce baby. 4812 words

***

Selina Kyle, known in certain small circles as the infamous thief Catwoman lept from one building to another. She landed in a neat roll that was almost completely silent. From there it was but the work of a moment to crack open the sky light and lower herself down into the apartment below her. Now usually she would enter her apartment through either the front door if she was out of costume or through the balcony door if she was. Of course, this wasn’t Her apartment.

Some rich tool, regular attendee of both the galas hosted by the Waynes and the Iceberg Lounge owned by Penguin. The owner was a gambler, a sleazeball and utterly corrupt. More than all that though, he was a braggart. He made the great misfortune of bragging at one of the Wayne’s Galas about illegally importing a rare Egyptian statuette. The statuette, predating the pyramids, was beyond priceless. Not that Selina planned to sell it. It was just something far too pretty to gather dust in some prick’s private display when it could be in her own display instead.

She bypassed the security almost effortlessly. She didn’t even need to break a sweat as she broke in, stole the precious cat statue (and numerous other valuables, no sense wasting an opportunity after all) then broke out and retreated to the neighboring tower. She was just about ready to gloat over her victory when she felt a presence join her on the roof. She dodged on instinct as a batarang whizzed past her head.

“Catwoman, that doesn’t belong to you.” A gruff voice said from the direction the bat shaped blade had come from.

“Well it does now, handsome.” She replied far sweeter as she turned to face Batman.

He emerged from the shadows, his customary glare firmly affixed to his face. She smiled at him and playfully adjusted the zipper on her skin tight suit. Despite all of his iron will power he still couldn’t help a glance at her generous cleavage.

“Mom?”

Her eyebrows pulled down in confusion and she glanced around the rooftop. Batman strode toward her, his usual imposing figure ruined by the fact that she had seen him completely naked and that she wasn’t paying attention to his attempts at intimidating her.

“Catwoman, you need to return what you’ve stolen. And come in for questioning about the missing diamonds from Starlabs.”

“Mom! I need you!”

She whirled around. There was a tugging sensation on her heart as she heard those words she had desperately wanted to hear for so long. Fifteen years had passed since she had last had hope of actually hearing someone call her that.

“Selina? What-?”

“Can it Bats.” Selina snapped as she tried to follow the tugging on her heart, but she couldn’t find any source for the voice.

Green mist began seeping out from around her feet, forming a circle on the rooftop and the tugging grew stronger. The mist was rising up and obscuring everything around her. She could only barely make out Bruce’s growing look of concern.

“Mom! He’s going to kill me!”

“Alan?!” Selina all but shrieked the name of the boy that had been taken from her. (Name borrowed from BatCat Spectre on AO3, Check it out!)

“Selina!” Bruce shouted just as the toxic green mist fully filled her vision and the tugging sensation grew to encompass her entire body. In the seconds she had she adjusted her costume for combat and bared the claws built into her gloves. If Alan was calling her for help, he would find her ready and willing.

“Mom, please hurry!” The voice that had sounded distant and distorted suddenly grew close and clear as the mist began to vanish from her sight.

Selina spun on her heel quickly taking in the boy cowering in the corner wearing an oversized NASA hoodie and the vampire? that was standing over his huddled form. Years of thieving and going toe to toe with the Bats had left Selina with incredible instincts and she used them now as she reacted. She raked her claws across the figure that towered over her son multiple times, drawing blood across his back, chest and face. She didn’t know if the sedative laced in her claws would affect this kind of creature, but the slash certainly got its attention.

The being immediately spun, faster than any human could move to grab her around the throat. She dug her claws into his hand and wrist, digging for his tendons even as she was lifted off her feet with one hand.

“Ah. The infamous Catwoman. This is who you summon for help? And here I thought you were calling your mother. You know very well, Little Badger, that Maddie has better things to do than come to your rescue.” The vampire said, seemingly unaffected by her ripping his hand to ribbons. “But I must thank you for delivering her. When I overshadow her I will have the best thief in the world under my control.”

Through her fading vision she could see his eyes glowing with a red light and could feel some strange force pressing down on her mind, even as she went through all the exercises Bruce had taught in how to resist mind control.

“You don’t get to touch her!” The same young voice that had called for her before shouted out.

Then her vision was once again filled with overwhelming, toxic green light. She fell to the ground released from the hold on her throat and the pressure on her mind disappeared in the same instant. She gasped for air then stood and braced herself for combat.

“Oh, Ancients! I’m so sorry!” The boy, who looked so much like Bruce cried as he jumped to her side to make sure she was alright.

Selina looked around for their assailant but all she could see was a smoking hole dug through the building. She couldn’t help but let her eyes widen at the clear power Alan possessed.

“I was trying to summon my mom to come and help me, but for some reason you came instead. It’s like when I tried to summon my sister and I kept getting all the different bat boys from Gotham. Like I got Nightwing and Red Robin. I even got a cow once when I tried to summon my pet!”

The boy kept talking at a rapid pace as he checked her for injuries. If it weren’t for having been around Dick when he was Robin she might have been able to understand Alan as he was speaking. Selina felt a chill around her neck that eased the pain in her throat. Something in his words stuck out to her.

“Did you try to summon your sister or your sibling?” She asked, looking over the boy curiously.

Warning bells were ringing in her head as she examined him. He was far too thin and for how tall she and Bruce were he should be much taller at fifteen, almost sixteen. He had dark bags under his eyes and cuts on his face. When he came to her side he moved with a noticeable limp, and he held one of his arms awkwardly close to his body.

“Uh. Sibling I think. Ghost Speak applies more weight to title than gender. Wait, why are we discussing summing semantics when Plasmius is still out there?”

“Plasmius?” Selina growled the name out even as her mind was racing at his words.

He had tried to summon his sibling and had gotten Dick and Tim. He tried to summon his pet and had gotten Bruce’s pet. He had tried to summon his mother and he got her. She mentally preened as the thought occurred to her. Whatever summoning ritual he had used clearly knew he was her family. But she still had the current problem to deal with before she could celebrate finding her son.

“Yeah Plasmius. Vlad Plasmius, floating vampire wanna-be, with the terrible dress code of someone who slept through the last century even though I know he was born in the eighties at the latest. He’s way more angry than he usually is but he’s obsessed with my mom, er, my uh, adopted mom. So I thought she would snap him out of it. Now come on, I need to break the ritual connection and send you back before you get hurt again.”

Alan dragged her back towards the glowing green sigil on the ground, but Selina dug her heels in and stopped him. He looked past her, desperation on his face, but he must have hit this Plasmius harder than he thought because he still wasn’t back.

“Alan, you called for help. Do you really think you’re going to just send me away?”

“Wait, Alan? Why are you calling me-? Never mind. I promise I can handle him myself. He’s never beaten me before no matter how close it’s gotten and I’m sure I can handle him now even as angry and nuts as he is now.”

“Absolutely not! I lost you fourteen years ago, I’m not going to turn my back on you now!”

The poor boy seemed frozen by her declaration. He had stopped trying to pull her towards the sigil, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. Worst to her was the anguish on his face and the tears starting to shine in his eyes. What was wrong with Alan’s life that he had never had someone to protect him before.

“Now, tell me how to fight this guy, and quickly!”

He looked at her for another second, seemingly trying to read her very soul before he nodded. He stepped back from her and a blinding ring of light covered his body. Selina panicked for a moment before the flash of light vanished and Alan reappeared. He was floating, and all of the color had been bleached from his appearance other than his previously blue eyes turning a bright toxic green, but she could still tell that he was her Alan, just like she had been able to tell from the moment she set eyes on him.

“Ok. I didn’t want to show you my powers, but I can’t risk you getting hurt because I’m not doing my best.” He quickly floated over to a backpack in the corner and dug something out and tossed it to her. “Put that on! It will protect you from getting overshadowed. Er, humans call it getting possessed.”

Selina briefly examined what she now saw was a quite frankly hideous bracelet. This is exactly the type of trap someone who had never been bossed around by Batman would fall into, just slip on the bracelet that is said to protect you from mind control and immediately open yourself to actual mind control. Bruce would never put the bracelet on without a hundred questions. It was exactly the type of trap Selina was going to jump into. She had to trust the feeling in her heart and the look in Alan’s eyes that he wasn’t going to hurt her. She snapped the bracelet around her wrist.

“Oh perfect.” Alan was visibly relaxed seeing her protected, and he immediately stood back up and grabbed her hand to examine her claws. “So Vlad Plasmius is a ghost. He can phase through materials and turn invisible. If he disappears be careful but he should still be visible on thermal vision as a warm patch. He has a flame core. Your weapons and armor aren’t going to do anything, you only got those early attacks off because he was surprised.”

Alan examined her claws for a moment then nodded to himself a smirk on his face. Another chill spread across her hands, even colder than what she had felt on her neck. Ice formed around each of her fingers and spread up her wrist to her elbow. Her usual claws were now covered with massive talons that were supported all the way down to bracers that formed on each wrist. Selina couldn’t help but feel proud at Alan’s clear skill with his powers. She wasn’t sure where or how he had gotten powers, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

“Phantom!!!” A voice growled from the smoking hole in the wall. Alan turned to look, fear clear on his face before he returned to examining the rest of her body suit. Ice continued to flow from his hands in blue waves until almost every part of her was covered. “Phfffffffaaaaannntooommm!!!”

The lingering call seemed to be coming from every direction. Catwoman looked down at herself and was even more impressed at the ice armor her son had crafted for her. The ice was still light enough that her usual, very acrobatic, combat style wouldn’t be affected, yet covered her with leg and shin guards, arm guards and pauldrons and a flowing almost mech like armor on her torso.

“Daniel! This is enough. You just need to listen to me and do what I say!” Plasmius shouted.

Selina flexed her claws then darted to the side of the hole just before a pair of glowing red eyes shone into the room they were in. She looked over at Alan and now saw him standing almost fearlessly as his enemy entered the room.

“I heard dear Maddie and that oaf, Jack had you down in their lab recently!” Selina decided to let Plasmius monologue as she navigated directly behind him. “And yet you’re still loyal to them and not to me!”

Alan, Selina guessed he was known as Daniel here, grimaced at Plasmius’ words and she scowled, furious at him taking that tone with her son. She crouched, ready to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment.

“Maybe all you need to learn your true place is to spend some time in my lab. I could do it too, fill jars with your organs and blood and leave you to rot on my lab table, just like your parents did!”

Selina’s horrified shriek was the only warning Plasmius had before her claws were in his back and her weight was bearing him down to the floor. She rent his back as she pummeled him with her knees. Plasmius tried to buck her off but Alan, or Daniel grappled with him from the front. The ice on her claws and on her knee pads allowed her to tear into him. She tried to ignore the green that now covered her claws. She and Alan fought side by side keeping Plasmius on his toes and unable to use his more significant powers.

Plasmius blasted Selina back and fired another blast at Alan. Selina shrugged the blast off with her armor, but cried out as she watched her son fall. A metallic cylinder flew through the air having been knocked from Alan’s grasp by the Plasmius. Selina caught the cylinder out of the air, a brief glance told her it was some kind of mechanical… thermos?

“Mom! Use it!” Alan’s desperate cry snapped her back to reality even as Plasmius slammed into her son. Selina had not mourned her son for the past fourteen years for him to get hurt on her watch. It only took a moment for her to figure out the “ON” switch for the thermos and she aimed it at the man attacking her son. With a scream of rage and a flash of light he was sucked into the thermos and Selina was left alone with her son. She immediately fell to her knees at his side where she could see he was holding a burn at his side.

“Alan? Or do you prefer Daniel?” She asked, trying to keep her voice soft and gentle.

“Uh, Danny actually.” He said with a smile that could have been from her own high school yearbook. “Though, Alan… might not be so bad, eventually.”

“Ok, Danny, are you ok? Do we need to get to a hospital?”

“No!” His shout startled her, but she didn’t let herself pull back from his side. “I can’t go to a hospital, they’ll turn me in, they’ll tear me apart.”

His voice fell away in a broken whine and she immediately curled her body around his, holding him tight. He started to shiver against her and she could feel sobs start to rack his too tiny body.

“That will never happen again, do you hear me? You were taken from me when you were a baby and I thought you were dead. But you managed to find me, you’re so smart, so clever, you found me and I’m here now and I-”

Her words cut off as a green mist began to again swirl around her. Danny looked at her with sad eyes.

“I’m exhausted. I can’t maintain the connection anymore.” He hesitated, looking away from her for a moment, before he looked back at her with an earnestness that startled her. “Are you really my mom? My birth mom?”

“I am.” Selina spoke with more confidence than truth, but she didn’t care about truth, or DNA checks or anything the Bat would insist on. She felt it in her heart. This was her baby. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” The mist was swirling around her faster and faster, she did everything she could to stay focused on Danny’s face. “I’ll find you. I promise you, I’ll find you!”

The green mist filled her vision and for just a moment she could feel skinny arms wrap tightly around her before the sensation faded along with the mist. Far too soon she was back on a rooftop in Gotham, breathing in the smog, still holding a thermos filled with someone who had threatened to disembowel her son. Selina threw her head back and howled her grief and rage at the sky that Danny wasn’t here any longer. She pulled the cowl of her costume off her head so she could dash tears from her eyes.

“Selina? What happened?” Bruce’s gruff voice made her whirl around and he almost got a face full of ice covered claws.

“Take me to the cave.” She stood on slightly shaky legs, clutching Danny’s enemy to her chest.

“Catwoman, you’re not acting like yourself.” He tried to stonewall her, but she was not having it. Danny was out there, exhausted, injured and was being abused by the people who should have loved him.

“Take me to the cave Bruce!” Selina snapped at him, already moving towards where he had parked the Batmobile. “And get your little listeners on the line, our son is out there, alive but in an abusive situation and I won’t allow him to get hurt any more.”

The ride back to the Batcave was spent with Bruce mostly in a paranoid and sullen silence. She didn’t care. She just didn’t care. She loved Bruce, he was one of the most important people in her life, but their son, the baby they had made together, was even more important to her. Instead she spent the ride filling in Oracle with everything she knew.

“His name is Danny, short for Daniel. His adoptive parents are named Jack and Maddie. They own a lab. A lab they held my son prisoner in.” Her voice broke and Batman almost drove off the road. Selina took a moment to gather herself, fiddling idly with the bracelet Danny had given her to keep her safe. Surprisingly it was still with her and the icy armor she was wearing wasn’t melting at all. The cold from the armor didn’t even feel uncomfortable. “He has wavy black hair, Bruce’s eyes, and my jaw. He’s about 5’3”, interested in NASA.” She leaned over to grab Bruce’s arm. “He’s too skinny, our kitten is too skinny.”

The Batmobile thundered into the Batcave where to Bruce’s surprise most of the rest of his kids were waiting. Alan’s siblings in another life. The knowing look they sent her made her think that Oracle must have been keeping the rest of them updated as she spoke. Red Robin was typing away at the Batcomputer while Robin leaned over his shoulder looking at the screen. Signal was probably still in bed. The two Batgirls, Black Bat and Spoiler leaned casually against each other nearby. Selina was surprised Nightwing wasn’t here. He, Red Hood and Oracle were the only ones who had really known that Alan had existed, much less that he had been taken from her and Bruce.

Selina struggled with the armor Danny had made for her for a few minutes while Red Robin and Oracle searched for anyone who matched the description she had given in their systems. Eventually Cass and Steph joined her to help her shed the armor. They were both curious about it even as they helped her out of it. They, like her, ignored Bruce trying to integrate her about what she went through and check her for known mind control elements. It’s Cassandra who notices the bracelet on her wrist, something she would normally not be caught dead in. She examines it then lifts her eyebrows in surprise. She twists Selina’s wrist so she can see the bracelet where a logo is placed.

“Fenton… Works. Fentonworks. Fentonworks!” Selina cheers as she reads the name out loud. Surely that could help them find Danny. “Search Fentonworks!”

There is a flurry of typing after her announcement both from Red Robin and from Oracle over the coms. It only takes a few more minutes of keys clacking, the noise grating against her already frayed nerves for Tim to cheer. She is at his side in a moment, looking at a hideously designed website for Fentonworks. Were these people incapable of actual aesthetically pleasing designs? The heavily modulated voice of Oracle began reading out information and coordinates of a city called Amity Park.

They were getting more and more information, images flying across the screen of the Batcomputer. The Drs. Fenton. Their research and experiments on Ecto-entities. Their children, one biological Jasmine Fenton, one adopted true age and name unknown, renamed as Daniel Fenton. His social media was pulled up, where it was clear he went by Danny, his close friends Samantha and Tucker. More and more information, but Selina was staring at the picture of Danny like a man in a desert staring at an oasis. That was her boy. That was her son. He had called her for help, she had told him, promised him that she would find him again and she had.

Suddenly the screen went dark. From the cries of anger and annoyance from the two boys it was clear it was not because of them. She looked over and saw Bruce near the power button for the screen, his cowl pulled back so she could see the suspicion in his eyes.

“Selina, you’re not acting like yourself.” He said slowly, calmly. As if he were talking to a wild animal. “I think it would be best if you lied down, and I can call Martian Manhunter to check your mind. Our son vanished fourteen years ago. Survival rates for kidnapped children are miniscule for that length of time. Also our son couldn’t be a meta, neither of us have the meta gene. This person is manipulating your emotions. Probably to extract information from you.”

Selina couldn’t help a sneer crossing her face. She regretted taking off her ice claws and armor. She would like to see how well the new attachments fared against the armor Batman wore.

“You can be a paranoid bastard all you want. I’m taking one of your planes to Amity Park tonight.”

Bruce tapped at something on his wrist computer. Her sneer curled up into a snarl, presumably he had just locked the planes. How dare he treat her like one of his Robins that he could just ground whenever he wanted to. Especially when their son was trapped in another state, injured and exhausted.

“No.” Bruce’s curt answer cut into Selina’s already thin patience. She was about to start screaming when another voice cut in.

“It may not be up to your decision any more, father.” Robin said, looking closely at his own wrist computer. “It looks like Richard rendezvoused with Todd at the secondary Batplane immediately after finding out about this person. As soon as they had coordinates they took off.”

Bruce turned the monitor back on to reveal one of the locator beacons from one of the other Batplanes already leaving Gotham airspace.

“Oracle. Shut the plane down remotely.”

There is a long moment of silence of the coms before Oracle hesitantly rejoins the conversation.

“I’m not going to do that.” Bruce looks like he wants to angrily reply but he is cut off as Barbara continues. “Catwoman knows enough about the risks of mind control to know when she’s being influenced. If there’s even a chance that there’s a child trapped in an abusive situation like she described, blood relative or not, meta or not, that child deserves to be freed from that situation. Red Hood and Nightwing are capable. They can retrieve the boy on their own.”

Jason’s own modulated voice came through the coms next.

“Don’t worry B, I’m here to restrain Dickiebird’s murderous impulses. We’re going to rescue our little brother, we’ll bring him home, Selina.”

Selina walked up to the computer and pressed the com button there.

“Be careful boys. His adoptive parents aren’t good people.” She hesitates, the desire so strong to tell them to make the Fentons pay, in blood if necessary. But she can’t do that. She can’t ask them to go against their code for her. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Understood, Selina.” Dick’s voice came through next. There was none of his usual cheer in his voice. “We’re switching to stealth mode now that we’re away from Gotham. We’ll be radio silent until either we have him safe and secure or something goes badly.”

Red Robin responds to the sign off. Selina can’t hear any more. She paces. Alfred convinces her to change into her civilian attire. She even showers on his recommendation. Then she’s back pacing the floor of the Batcave, her hair still damp. Red Robin eventually retires for some much needed sleep. Cassandra and Stephanie fall asleep cuddled together in their civies in the cave. Bruce the miserable, paranoid bastard just watches her. Every turn of her pacing she has to look at him. He’s still glaring at her, still thinking she’s been brainwashed or some such nonsense.

Hours pass.

Long hours of pacing. Long hours of flight over the midwest towards Amity Park. Long hours where Danny is hopefully safe and resting from his fight with Plasmius. Long hours where she could only pace and hold the thermos that held Danny’s enemy. The man who wanted to cut her baby open.

The passing hours strained every last iota of her self restraint. She wanted to slap Bruce and scream at him for his pigheadedness. She wanted to let Plasmius free and shred him to pieces under her claws. She wanted to pull up the flight data for the Batplane and track it across the country, even though that would be useless while it was in stealth mode.

Finally, just have dawn had broken, when Selina herself was starting to feel a little broken there came a crackle on the coms before a voice joined them.

“Nightwing to Batcave, come in Batcave.” Dick’s voice came in loud and clear, startling both of the Batgirls awake. Selina immediately dashed to the computer, pressing the com button herself.

“We can hear you, Nightwing. Do you have him?” Selina couldn’t keep the desperation out of her voice even if she tried.

“Red Hood and I recovered one Daniel James Fenton, born Alan Thomas Kyle.” Selina could have jumped for joy, even as she wanted to laugh at his subtle dig at Bruce. The actual last name on Alan’s original birth certificate was Wayne. “We’ve also managed to recover his adopted sister, Jasmine, he wouldn’t leave Amity Park without her.”

Selina could feel the tension from the night draining out of her and she collapsed into the computer chair in front of the Bat computer. Bruce stepped up to the consol next.

“What of their parents?” He growled the question out. There was another long silence. Far longer than previous silences before Red Hood’s modulated voice came through the comms.

“They’ll live.” A brief pause then, “Though I did burn down their house. Both of the children insisted and I needed to destroy something after everything we saw.”

“They’ve been in a rough place for who even knows how many years. We’re going to bring the Batplane into the cave, have Agent A on stand-by.” Dick also hesitated for a moment. “Selina, we’re bringing him home.”

Selina could almost sob in relief.

This was not my intention to write something this long. I just hope you enjoy. If you like my writing, hang around! I’m going to be sharing some fully original pieces at the end of the month.

@memecow1, @andaspoonfulofangst-whoops , @colornotes23, @theamazingfox , @spectralstardustandphantomnights , @alcorbearson , @talafairy , @hnymp , @ironicvixen , @dangnoodles, @satoshy12 , @suppengott, @samgirl98 , @skulld3mort-1fan ,

That’s a lot of tags. Hopefully this works. And don’t forget to share!

#dp x dc #Danny Phantom #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman #vlad plasmius #Writing Emerald #danny fenton #dc x dp

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starthelostboys · 2 years ago

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i feel like sam would be sooo susceptible to pyramid schemes. like he’d 100% be out there trying to convince everyone he knows to buy essential oils or lularoe leggings from him

#lucy buys his stuff cause she wants to be supportive #michael buys like one bottle of essential oils just so sam will leave him alone about this #edgar and alan completely refuse to give into this which only makes sam more determined to sell shit to them #the lost boys #tlb #kate's bad takes

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muiitoloko · 9 months ago

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Co-stars

Summary: You find yourself sandwiched between your two co-stars, both figuratively and literally.

Warnings: Obscenity.

Pairing: Alan Rickman × fem!Reader × Colin Firth

Author's Notes: This is just fiction, no harm intended.

Alan Rickman leaned back against the plush pillows of their bed, his eyes hooded with desire as you eagerly took him into your mouth.

"God, you're incredible," Alan murmured huskily, his baritone voice thick with desire as he tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your movements with increasing urgency. "You love sucking my cock, don't you?"

You moaned softly around him, your eyes sparkling with arousal as you eagerly bobbed your head up and down, your tongue swirling around his length with practiced skill. You couldn't get enough of him, couldn't resist the intoxicating taste and feel of him filling your mouth.

Meanwhile, Colin Firth knelt beside them, his gaze fixed on your flushed face as you pleasured Alan with single-minded focus. He couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal at the sight, his gentlemanly demeanor remaining intact as he watched you with hungry eyes.

"Alan, her mouth feels amazing," Colin replied with a grin, his voice laced with admiration as he reached out to stroke your cheek. "But you should feel how tight she is. It's like heaven."

Alan's heart raced with excitement at Colin's words, his desire surging to new heights at the thought of your tightness enveloping him. With a playful smirk, he reached out to caress your cheek, his fingers trailing down your neck to where you were still eagerly sucking him.

"Mmm, I can imagine," Alan replied huskily, his voice thick with desire as he watched you with hungry eyes. "But I think I'll let you enjoy that for now, Firth. I'm quite content where I am."

Colin wasted no time, his own desire burning hot and fierce as he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips with a primal urgency. With a low growl of desire, he pressed himself against you, his hard length sliding effortlessly into your wetness.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion, your eyes widening in surprise as you felt Colin filling you completely. He was bigger than Alan, and you weren't used to him yet, the sensation of him stretching you to your limits sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

Alan watched with hungry eyes as you moaned at the sensation, your body arching against Colin's with a fervor that left him breathless. He felt a surge of desire coursing through him, his own arousal reaching dizzying heights as he watched the person he loved being pleasured by another man.

With a playful smirk, Alan reached out and gently stroked your cheek, his touch filled with warmth and affection. "Enjoying yourself?" he murmured huskily, his voice thick with desire as he watched you with hungry eyes.

You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of Colin's touch. "Yes," you gasped, your voice thick with desire. "It feels so good... he's so big..."

Alan grinned at your response, his own arousal spiking at the thought of you being filled by Colin's impressive length. With a surge of excitement, he reached out and trailed his fingers down your neck, his touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

Meanwhile, Colin continued to thrust into you with a relentless urgency, his movements growing faster and more intense with each passing moment. He was lost in the heat of the moment, his desire driving him to new heights of passion and intensity as he claimed you as his own.

As you moaned and writhed beneath him, Alan couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight, his own arousal reaching dizzying heights as he watched you surrender yourself to the pleasure of Colin's touch. With each thrust, he felt himself growing closer to the edge, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as he prepared to join you both in ecstasy.

And then, just as Alan reached the brink of release, he felt your hand wrap around his length, your touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him. With a primal roar, he gave himself over to the pleasure, his orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave as he poured himself into your waiting mouth.

As Colin soon climaxed too, he took care to withdraw, his release painting your flushed skin with evidence of your passionate encounter. With a satisfied sigh, he leaned back on the bed, panting heavily as he looked at the mess you had made.

Meanwhile, you lay there, your chest rising and falling with each breath as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. A contented smile graced your lips as you glanced between Alan and Colin, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Well, that was certainly an experience," you remarked playfully, your voice tinged with satisfaction. "I must say, the three of us make quite the team, don't you think?"

Alan chuckled softly, his body relaxed and sated as he lounged on the hotel bed. "Indeed," he replied, his voice warm with affection. "Perhaps we should consider making more films together in the future."

Colin returned from the bathroom with a damp towel in hand, his gentlemanly demeanor evident as he approached you with care. "Let me clean you up, love," he said tenderly, his eyes soft with adoration as he gently wiped away the evidence of your passion.

You smiled gratefully at him, your heart swelling with affection for the two men who had brought you so much pleasure. As Colin tended to you with gentle hands, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you, a feeling of belonging in the arms of the two men who were your co-stars.

Alan smoothly stuffed himself back into his pants, his demeanor relaxed as he reclined against the plush pillows of the bed. Colin, with his characteristic gentleness, came to lie beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist as the three of you settled in for a cozy chat.

As you nestled between them, feeling the warmth of their bodies against yours, you couldn't help but remark, "This is quite fun, isn't it? I mean, do you two like... this?"

Alan, his voice still tinged with the remnants of desire, chuckled softly. "Always," he replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced between you and Colin.

As Colin confirmed his enjoyment with a gentle nod and a warm smile, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. Knowing that both of your co-stars were pleased filled you with a sense of satisfaction, easing any lingering doubts you may have had.

But then, as you lay there nestled between them, a thought suddenly struck you like a bolt of lightning. You sat up abruptly, turning to look at Alan with wide eyes filled with realization.

"Wait a minute," you exclaimed, your voice tinged with incredulity. "Did you just quote Severus Snape to us?"

Alan chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at you. "Perhaps I did," he replied, his voice smooth as silk. "But can you blame me? After all, who better to channel in a moment of... shall we say, intensity?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his response, the absurdity of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. Here you were, lying in bed with two of the most esteemed actors of your generation, discussing the finer points of quoting fictional characters during moments of passion.

Colin, ever the gentleman, simply shook his head in amusement, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Well, I must say, Alan," he remarked with a chuckle, "you certainly know how to set the mood."

Alan grinned at Colin's comment, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned in closer to you. "Shall we continue the performance, then?" he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers of anticipation down your spine.

You glanced between Alan and Colin, feeling a surge of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of what was to come. With a playful smirk, you nodded eagerly, your heart racing with anticipation as you prepared for the next act in this delightful little drama.

As the trio settled into their second round of passion, Alan's attention turned to exploring your eager flesh with his skilled tongue. With a wicked grin, he leaned in closer, his baritone voice dripping with desire as he murmured huskily, "Shall we explore a different angle, my dear?"

You shivered with anticipation, your heart racing as you nodded eagerly in response. Colin, ever the gentleman, watched with hungry eyes as Alan positioned himself between your thighs, his skilled hands caressing your skin with practiced ease.

With a slow, teasing motion, Alan lowered his head, his warm breath sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you as he began to explore your delicate folds with his tongue. You moaned softly at the sensation, your hands tangling in his hair as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of his touch.

Meanwhile, Colin moved to kneel beside you, his gentle hands roaming over your flushed skin with a tender reverence. With a soft sigh, he leaned in closer, his lips trailing feather-light kisses along your neck as he whispered words of encouragement and praise.

Alan, his own desire burning hot and fierce, delved deeper into your wetness with each passing moment, his tongue swirling and flicking with expert precision. You gasped at the sensation, your body arching against him as waves of pleasure crashed over you in delicious waves.

Colin, ever attuned to your needs, reached out to caress your cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring as he whispered words of comfort and adoration. "You're doing so well, love," he murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Just relax and enjoy the moment."

With each passing moment, the intensity of your pleasure grew, building to a fever pitch as you surrendered yourself to the ecstasy of the moment. Alan, his own arousal reaching dizzying heights, redoubled his efforts, his tongue delving deeper and deeper into your wetness with each passing moment.

And then, just as you felt yourself teetering on the brink of release, Alan shifted his focus, his lips closing around your sensitive clit with a tantalizing suction. You cried out in ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of sensation washed over you in a dizzying torrent.

Colin, ever the attentive lover, moved to support you as you rode out the waves of pleasure, his arms wrapping around you with a tender embrace. With each passing moment, the intensity of your pleasure grew, building to a crescendo of ecstasy as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment.

As the trio basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, a sense of contentment washed over them like a warm blanket, enveloping them in a cocoon of love and affection. With gentle hands and tender kisses, they tended to each other's needs, their hearts overflowing with gratitude and adoration for the bond they shared.

As you came down from your high, Colin smoothly took Alan's place, his demeanor remaining gentle and attentive as he settled between your thighs. With a tender smile, he leaned in closer, his lips trailing feather-light kisses along your heated skin as he prepared to continue where Alan left off.

Meanwhile, Alan watched with hungry eyes, his arousal reignited at the sight of Colin pleasuring you with such care and devotion. With a low growl of desire, he reached out to fondle your breasts, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you as you eagerly surrendered yourself to the pleasure of his touch.

Colin, ever the attentive lover, wasted no time in exploring your eager flesh with his skilled tongue, his movements slow and deliberate as he teased and tantalized you with expert precision. You moaned softly at the sensation, your body arching against him as waves of pleasure crashed over you in delicious waves.

Alan, his own arousal reaching dizzying heights, couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your sensitive skin as he watched you with hungry eyes. With each passing moment, the intensity of your pleasure grew, building to a fever pitch as you surrendered yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

As Colin felt you nearing the edge, he gently withdrew from his position, a desire evident in his eyes as he looked at you with a silent question. You nodded eagerly, your own desire mirrored in your gaze as you shifted to straddle him, your hands roaming over his chest with a hungry urgency.

Colin, ever the gentleman, allowed you to take control, his hands settling on your hips with a gentle reassurance as you positioned yourself above him. With a playful smirk, you lowered yourself onto his waiting length, a moan escaping your lips as you felt him filling you completely.

Meanwhile, Alan reclined in an armchair nearby, his eyes fixed on the two of you with a hungry intensity as he watched you with rapt attention. With a low growl of desire, he reached down to open his pants, his hand wrapping around his length with a practiced ease as he began to stroke himself with increasing urgency.

As you rode Colin with a fervor that left him breathless, Alan's arousal surged to new heights, his own desire reaching dizzying heights as he watched you with hungry eyes. With each thrust, he felt himself growing closer to the edge, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as he prepared to join you both in ecstasy.

With a playful smirk, you looked at Alan. "Enjoying the show?" you asked, your voice thick with desire as you continued to ride Colin with increasing urgency.

Alan nodded eagerly, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched you with rapt attention. "Immensely," he replied huskily, his voice thick with desire as he continued to stroke himself with increasing urgency. "But I must admit, I much prefer being a part of the action."

"Don't worry, darling," you murmured huskily, your voice thick with desire. "You'll have your turn soon enough."

Alan grinned at your words, his arousal spiking at the thought of joining you both in ecstasy. With a playful wink, he settled back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the sight of you riding Colin with increasing fervor.

As you continued to ride Colin with single-minded focus, Alan's arousal reached a fever pitch, his own release imminent as he watched you with hungry eyes.

As you reached your third orgasm, your body writhing with ecstasy, Colin couldn't resist joining you in the throes of passion. With a primal growl of desire, he surged forward, his own release crashing over him like a tidal wave as he poured himself into your waiting body.

Meanwhile, Alan watched with hungry eyes, his arousal reaching dizzying heights at the sight of you both lost in pleasure. With a low growl of desire, he rose from his chair, his movements swift and purposeful as he crossed the room to where you lay.

With practiced ease, he scooped you up in his arms, his touch gentle yet firm as he carried you to the bed. With a playful smirk, he positioned you so that your legs hung off the side, giving him easy access to your eager flesh.

As he hovered over you, his baritone voice dripping with desire, he murmured huskily, "Now, my dear, it's my turn to show you what I can do." With that, he lowered himself onto you, his hard length sliding effortlessly into your wetness as he claimed you as his own.

Meanwhile, Colin took a moment to recover from his orgasmic haze, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he relaxed into the afterglow of his release. But even in his post-coital bliss, he remembered to caution Alan, his gentle nature evident in his concern for your well-being.

"Easy on her, Alan," Colin warned gently, his voice tinged with concern. "She may be overstimulated."

But Alan, ever the confident lover, growled in response, his desire burning hot and fierce as he pressed himself against you with increasing urgency. "Don't tell me how to treat a woman, Firth," he replied huskily, his voice thick with desire. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

With that, Alan surrendered himself completely to the pleasure of the moment, his movements becoming more frenzied and intense with each passing moment.

As you clung to him, your body trembling with pleasure, Alan held you close, his arms wrapping around you with a tender embrace. With each passing moment, the intensity of your pleasure grew, building to a crescendo of ecstasy as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of his touch.

"Come for me, my dear," Alan murmured huskily, his voice thick with desire as he urged you on. "Cum for me, let go and surrender to the pleasure. I want to feel you shiver and shake in my arms."

But you shook your head, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as you gasped for breath. "I-I can't, Al," you whimpered, your voice trembling with emotion. "It's too much, it's too intense..."

Alan, ever the understanding lover, brushed away your tears with gentle fingers, his touch soothing and reassuring as he whispered words of encouragement and praise. "You can do it, my love," he murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I believe in you. Just let go and surrender to the pleasure."

With a shaky breath, you nodded in response, your heart pounding in your chest as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment. With each passing moment, the intensity of your pleasure grew, building to a fever pitch as you teetered on the brink of release.

And then, just as you felt yourself reaching the edge, a wave of pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, sending you spiraling into the depths of ecstasy. With a cry of pleasure, you came undone in Alan's arms, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of sensation washed over you in a dizzying torrent.

Alan, his own release imminent, surged forward with a primal roar of desire, his orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave as he poured himself into you with reckless abandon. As his seed spilled into your waiting body, he stayed for a moment on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

With a tender smile, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and reassuring as he murmured words of praise and adoration. "You were incredible, my dear," he whispered softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'm so proud of you."

As you lay there in his arms, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. With a grateful sigh, you nestled closer to him, feeling safe and cherished in the arms of this man.

Meanwhile, Colin watched with a fond smile, his heart swelling with affection as he witnessed the moment shared between you and Alan. With a gentle sigh, he settled back against the pillows, content to bask in the warmth of your love as the three of you drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

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