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intoduskoutofdawn · 10 months ago

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There is that gut wrenching rhythm of the words...it's manic, it raises the heartbeat - read and listen.

Hello! I'm excited (and very a little nervous) to share a short story of mine! :)

It’s partly inspired by the Black Mirror themes, so you can probably guess the tone and style. While I don't think it needs specific content warnings (let me know if you disagree), I would prefer it to be considered for mature audiences.

Genre: soft science-fiction Word count: 3k

You can also read it on Ao3 (who doesn't like kudos! :))

Summary: It's supposed to be perfect— an ordinary, lazy morning, your warmth beside me, the comfort of routine—but then something starts to feel off. Subtle changes, small gestures, and words that don’t quite fit start to catch my attention. At first, I brush it off as my imagination running wild. But soon, I realize this perfect Saturday morning is far from what it seems.

Hello Raine

It began subtly, almost too quietly for me to notice at first.

Small details that felt off, like puzzle pieces forced together in a way that never quite fit. Choices that made sense on the surface but if you looked at them closely, they didn’t add up at all. Words out of place, leaving an aftertaste I wasn’t sure I liked.

And me. Never exactly where I wanted to be, never exactly satisfied. And this nagging feeling that no matter how much I tried to shift course, I always circled back to the same point—a hollow space inside me that I couldn’t fully understand or fill.

Because, as I lie here beside you, isn’t it where I’m supposed to be? The perfect snapshot of contentment.

The warmth of your body pressed against mine, a quiet, lazy Saturday morning wrapped in soft sheets, the kind of moment people chase to break the monotony of everyday life. And yet, that strange emptiness lingerers beneath it all, like a low hum in the background of an otherwise perfect melody.

You break the silence, your voice soft and sleepy. “What are you thinking about?”

The sound of rustling leaves filters in from the cracked window, their shadows dancing on the wall, creating fleeting patterns that vanish as quickly as they appear. I turn my head toward you, finding your eyes locked on mine. There’s something familiar in the way you look at me, a steady gaze that’s become predictable over time, like we’re repeating a scene we’ve played out before. And maybe we have. Maybe it’s always been like this with you—comfortably familiar, yet lacking the spark that once made it feel electric.

You asked me a question, didn’t you? I think, trying to summon an answer, something that will fill the space between us with at least some meaning. But all I can do is wonder why this moment, which should be perfect, feels like something I’m watching from a distance.

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I let the silence stretch, searching those familiar eyes as if they might hold the answer I can’t quite word.

I know them well, don’t I? Your eyes.

I know every detail of your face. The curve of your jaw, the way your lashes catch the sunlight in the morning. It's all etched in my memory, and yet, somehow, it feels distant. As though I’m looking at something I should recognize, but I don’t.

“Raine?” you say, a soft laugh in your voice, lifting your head slightly from the pillow. There’s a teasing lilt to your tone, as if you’re trying to pull me back from wherever my thoughts have wandered. “I asked what you were thinking about.”

“You,” I reply without hesitation now, the word slipping out automatically, like a reflex. I roll toward you, the warmth of your body meeting mine as our legs tangle together beneath the sheets. The soft, buttery yellow fabric is cool against our skin, but it’s your touch—your hand sliding to my hip, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead—that reminds me where I am.

“Me? What about me?” you ask, your voice playfully curious, eyebrows raised in expectation. There’s a spark in your eyes, a glimmer of something light and hopeful, as if you’re waiting for me to say something sweet, something that will make you smile.

“Your eyes,” I say, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I was thinking about your eyes. How they catch the light, how they sparkle in the sunlight. Like... two little stars in my sky.”

Ugh. I can’t help the slight cringe that flickers through me the moment the words leave my mouth. They sound off, too poetic for something as simple as the truth. Your eyes are blue—not exactly stars—and the sentiment feels clumsy. But you smile, and that genuine blush spreads across your cheeks like it’s the most romantic thing I could’ve said.

“Tell me something else,” you murmur, moving closer, your voice soft, coaxing. Your hand slips beneath my shirt, your fingertips grazing my skin in light, teasing strokes. You know exactly how to touch me, exactly how to pull me back into this moment, even when my thoughts are drifting elsewhere.

Or at least I think so.

Your fingers trail lower, just brushing the edge of my stomach before slipping, almost unnoticed, beneath the waistband of my pajama. The fabric feels thin between us, it’s barely a barrier, and I can feel your warmth against me as you lean in, your lips grazing the sensitive skin on my neck.

“I...” I begin, though my mind is oddly blank, scrambling for words that match the moment. You move even closer, your breath warm against my skin, and your hand inches deeper. “I’m glad I’m with you. When I’m with you, I don’t need anything else,” I blurt out without much thinking, and I’m not entirely sure my words sound as convincing as I want them to. There’s a hesitation in my voice, a falter that I hope you don’t notice.

But I think you believe me. I can feel your lips curve into a smile as they press more firmly against my neck, your kisses becoming bolder, hungrier. You move closer still, your hands, delicate yet insistent, tracing slow, familiar paths across my skin, exploring in ways you’ve done a hundred times before.

As my gaze drifts toward the window, I notice how the sunrays dance through the swaying leaves, casting playful shadows across the room. Yet, beneath the warmth of the light, an uneasy feeling stirs deep within me—something is not right.

“Wait...” I mumble, just as your lips finally brush against mine. I pull back slightly, enough to break the rhythm of the moment. “Sorry, I’m a bit distracted today… I guess I’m not in the mood.”

The change in you is immediate. Your body stiffens against mine, and you draw back, your eyes searching my face, confusion flashing through them.

“What?” you ask, disbelief in your voice as though you misheard me. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I just...” My voice falters. I didn’t mean to ruin the moment, “I just don’t feel too great today. I’m sorry...”

You snort, not with amusement but irritation, and push yourself away from me. You sit up sharply, the sudden distance between us more than just physical now. “What the hell do you mean? What did I do wrong? Did I say something?”

“What? No! N-nothing!” I say quickly, trying to calm you down, though my words come out too soft, almost pleading. “I’m just not in the mood for sex, okay? Maybe I didn’t sleep well, or—”

“This is the first time I hear you saying something like that. What the hell is this?”

The words catch in my throat as I sit up, too. There’s something accusatory in the way you say it, like my words are something deeply out of place. Your voice is flat, like you’re stating a fact you can’t wrap your head around. As if my words are some kind of betrayal. I meet your eyes, trying to gauge your reaction, but the playful glimmer from earlier is gone. The lighthearted teasing has hardened into something else. You’re staring at me, irritation radiating from every part of your expression.

“Tell me something nice,” you repeat your earlier words, but this time there’s no smile accompanying them—only a sharp edge of annoyance that hits me. It’s an order.

I feel the weight of your frustration pressing down on me, and a rush of anxiety swells in my chest. “But I don’t know—I don’t know what ,” I stutter.

You snort, getting out of bed, “Contact customer supp--”

“Your eyes,” I say, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I think about your eyes. How they catch the light, how they sparkle in the sunlight. Like... two little stars in my sky.”

Ugh. I can’t help the slight cringe that flickers through me the moment the words leave my mouth. It sounds off, too poetic for something as simple as the truth. Your eyes are brown—not exactly sta—

—wait.

“What the fuck ?” I exclaim, sitting up abruptly on the bed.

You frown in surprise, mirroring my sudden movement. “Hey, I thought this place was tagged ‘no heavy language.’”

I stare at you, disbelief washing over me like cold water. “Wh-what the hell are you talking about? What the fuck is going on?!”

In a flash, I jump out of bed, pacing the small space as I scan the familiar surroundings. The room looks the same as always: the soft glow of Saturday morning sunlight filtering through the window, leaves casting playful shadows on the walls, as if everything is perfectly normal.

“Did I choose a wrong dialogue option? You weren’t supposed to say things like that—” You say, but I’m not entirely sure what you mean.

“I don’t care! Your eyes were blue, and now they’re fucking brown! How is that even possible?!” I bark back, the words bursting forth in a mixture of fear, surprise, and… anger, I think. It’s hard to tell.

You pause, processing my outburst, and then a slow smile spreads across your face, as if you’re amused by the absurdity of it all. “Yeah, I was right. You’re so overrate–”

“No! Fuck that!” The words explode out of me before I even realize it. “What the hell is going on here?!”

You don’t answer. You just sigh as if I disappointed you.

I need air.

In a heartbeat, I’m off the bed, the sheets crumpling in a heap behind me as I lunge toward the door. My fingers wrap around the handle, desperate and trembling.

I yank at it, twisting, shoving my shoulder against the frame—but nothing happens.

The door remains fixed in place, immovable. Not even a creak of protest, no give at all.

A cold wash of panic tightens in my chest, constricting like a vice, making it harder to breathe.

“Raine…” Your voice again, but this time it’s different. The playful teasing is gone, replaced by something heavier—surprise, concern. You sound unsure now, hesitant, like you’ve glimpsed something fragile and unfamiliar in me.

I glance back at you, then return my gaze to the stubborn door, my pulse racing.

Where am I? Is this my bedroom or yours? Why can’t I fucking remember?!

The walls around me feel foreign now, though I swear I knew them just moments ago. There’s sunlight pouring through the windows, casting warm golden patterns on the floor, but that’s the only thing I’m certain of.

The sunlight.

Bright. So bright and persistent.

For the first time, I realize how little I know. About you. About this room. About what’s beyond this door that refuses to open.

About me.

I twist the handle again, harder this time, but it doesn’t budge. The door feels like part of the wall—sealed, unmoving.

The panic rises, creeping up my throat, threatening to choke me.

Air. I need air.

“Raine,” you call my name again, but the warmth has drained from your voice. It’s not a request, it’s an order—calm, insistent, composed.

I freeze, my hand still on the door handle. The air feels too thin, like there’s not enough oxygen, and I’m drowning in it. I glance back at you—your eyes, no longer confused, no longer brown or blue, but something else entirely.

“What is all this?” My voice cracks, barely a whisper now. “Why can’t I leave? I want to leave, let me leave!”

The silence between us stretches, thick and suffocating. You stand up slowly, I watch as you tilt your head, almost like you’re trying to understand something strange, something fragile. And that’s when it hits me.

It’s me .

I’m the thing you’re trying to understand.

I’m the thing that doesn’t make sense.

I’m what’s wrong.

“Raine’s glitching again,” you murmur, almost gently, but there’s no concern in the way you say it—just cold, clinical observation. I’m not even sure you’re speaking to me. “Yeah, it happens sometimes when people don’t log out properly. Data bleeds, memories overlap. But don’t worry—we’ll fix it. Just relax.”

My breath catches. The word rattles around in my mind, refusing to settle, refusing to make sense. But deep down, something cold and hollow tells me it’s true.

I’ve felt it before, haven’t I? These strange gaps in memory, these moments of disconnection, like I’ve been playing a role I don’t fully understand.

“I…” My voice falters, and I try to pull back from the realization, but there’s nowhere to go. The door doesn’t open. This room, this moment—it doesn’t end. “Tell me what’s going on. Please tell me what’s going on.”

And suddenly, I know. I know what comes next, what you’re about to say, how you’re about to move. It’s a pattern, one that’s repeated itself over and over, and I’ve been too blind to see it.

“We’ll fix it,” you repeat, this time to me, stepping closer, your smile gentle, reassuring.

You raise your hand, you want to touch my cheek, but I’m not letting you. I push your hand away.

I stumble back, questions burning through me, twisting everything I thought I knew into something terrifyingly uncertain.

“I’m not here to hurt you. Nobody ever is here to hurt you.” you say slowly.

“I don’t understand,” I murmur, more to myself than to you. “Who am I? Where am I?”

You stop just in front of me, tilting your head again in that same curious way. “You’re Raine,” you say simply, as if that answers everything. “And you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

I shake my head, trying to make sense of it, but it’s like trying to hold water in my hands. The harder I try to grasp it, the faster it slips through my fingers.

“Let’s start again,” you say, your voice soft, almost kind, but there’s a sharpness to it. “I’ve heard this can be a bit unpleasant. It won’t take long—a second, maybe.” You pause, looking at me. “But I have this one idea... something that might make this whole scenario a little better suited for you.”

My back meets the door. I don’t like how calmly you say it.

Before I can protest, you speak again, this time with quiet authority, “Hard reset.”

The world around me stutters. For a split second, reality itself flickers—the bed, the light, even your face—all of it shifts, blurring and warping as if I’m seeing it through a fractured lens. And then it hits me, all at once.

I see everything. I feel everything. All I’ve ever known.

Thousands versions of you , of this room, of this moment.

The pleasure I felt with you, all the words, they all crash into my mind like a tidal wave, each one tearing through me, relentless and suffocating.

It should be unbearable—the weight of it, the pain, thousands of days packed into one second—but instead, all I feel is this cold, sharp knowing that fills every single corner of my mind.

Your face flickers before me, endlessly shifting, morphing into strangers, into different people, and yet it’s somehow still you . Every time it’s different—your eyes, your voice, your skin, the way we touch each other—but it doesn’t matter.

It’s always today , always you .

Always you, you, you and me.

The same pale light filtering through the curtains. The same sheets tangled beneath me. Thousands of mornings. Thousands of cycles. I wake up in this bed, and I’m still the same.

I go through the motions, over and over again—each time thinking it might be different, but it never is.

I make you feel good, I give you what you want, and you disappear. Then I do it again.

And again.

The truth is a weight I can no longer bear. It crushes me, pulling me under.

And then—

“Hello, Raine,” you say, a soft laugh in your voice, lifting your head slightly from the pillow. There’s a teasing lilt to your tone, as if you’re trying to pull me back from wherever my thoughts have wandered. “I didn’t notice you’ve woken up… What are you thinking about?”

The soft patter of rain taps gently against the window.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound soothing as it fills the quiet room. Faint reflections of water streak across the wall, their shapes shifting and disappearing as quickly as they form. I turn my head toward you, catching your eyes fixed on mine. There’s something familiar in your gaze, a steady look that feels like a scene we’ve lived through countless times before. And maybe we have. Maybe it’s always been this way with you—comfortably predictable.

My body moves before I even realize it, turning toward you, a smile already on my lips. “Your eyes,” I say, without hesitation. “I was thinking about your eyes.”

For a moment, my gaze flickers back to the window, a strange pang of melancholy creeping in, though I can’t really understand why.

It’s just rain, I think. Rain always makes me feel nostalgic, for some reason. That must be it.

Just another quiet, rainy Saturday morning with you .

This room, this bed with you—this is where I’m supposed to be, after all. This is where I want to be.

Isn't it?

#original art #fiction #writers on tumblr #itsnotzka

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intoduskoutofdawn · 1 year ago

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Amy x Darkness?

Ever since @cassi0-peia (hope you don't mind me tagging you) asked for an Amy fanart, the idea of them both popped in my head and started to grow. I still plan on doing a proper fanart of Amy (this one is just a quick sketch for my own amusement :)), but I do have some thoughts about Darmy (teehee, that's a nice name!)

There aren't many fics about them, so maybe no one else cares (and by not many I mean almost zero). Oh well, too bad! I do! I care! Take it or leave it!

Let's say Richy wasn't there to push Amy off the edge. And let's say she and Darkness had more than just one, short conversation.

More under the cut: (me blabbing my ass off :P)

Amy x Darkness seem destined for a relationship doomed from the very start, whether it’s romantic or platonic - it doesn’t really matter. Their connection feels like one where both are desperately trying to make each other better, yet they keep spiraling in the wrong direction.

Amy's trauma stems from a terrible secret, carried in silence for years. It filled her with guilt and a relentless need for redemption (presumably redemption, that’s my headcanon at least).

Darkness, on the other hand, sees the world as an inherently bleak and unforgiving place, devoid of hope or redemption. Though we know very little about his whole worldview and/or past, it’s clear (for me, at least) that his perspective is shaped by deep disillusionment (and very possibly trauma, too. But that’s my headcanon as well). He believes that darkness is the fundamental truth of existence, and any attempt to find light is futile. This outlook not only isolates him but also influences how he interacts with others, particularly with Amy.

The dynamic itself? Amy’s need to save and be saved clashes with Darkness’ conviction that salvation is impossible. They manage to keep each other just above the surface, but at the same time, they unknowingly drag each other down. Amy’s guilt drives her to try to pull Darkness out of his despair, while Darkness’ bleak outlook reinforces Amy’s worst fears about herself and the world.

Their relationship is a paradox (in a way), teetering on the edge of salvation and destruction (to both). Amy’s efforts to heal only deepen Darkness’ cynicism, while his rejection of hope intensifies her guilt. The only hope is for one of them to recognize the vicious cycle they're in, but the sad truth is, that realization may never come.

However, not to be a total fatalist, if they were ever to break free from this cycle, they might be astonished by just how good they could be for each other <3

#my neck hurts because my head tilted with astonishment while reading this #duskwood #duskwood amy #duskwood darkness #amy bell lewis

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intoduskoutofdawn · 1 year ago

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What about how they first met? Jake x Phil <3<3<3

Hi, sorry for answering late. Had a thought, though...

Have you had a chance to read this fic from @itsnotzka ? (who hopefully doesn't mind, that I recommend it, and should feel free to tell me if they do)

Hands down, it is such a great piece, beautifully written, and captures exactly what you are asking for. I'm not going to say more, just read it. ;)

#duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fanfic #duskwood anon ask #duskwood jail

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intoduskoutofdawn · 1 year ago

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Arts and craft and family things

|Jake x Phil

| How Jake met Angela.

I managed to finish it, it was supposed to be a very casual piece and got long again but what can you do?

The red sauce in the pot threw up a big bubble, bursting with an unappetizing noise. Jake shook his head, with a wavering exhale he let go of the wooden spoon.

"Am I doing this right?" he pointed at the sauce as it started clotting together - startled, he quickly started stirring again.

Hannah was kneeling in front of the oven, focusing on it's delicious smelling content, she turned her head and said over her shoulder,

"Jake, just keep stirring...there's nothing that can go wrong."

"So... now it's forming this skin on the surface and the smell is getting - intense, I'd say."

"What the..." Hannah jumped up and ripped the spoon out of Jake's hand, with the seriousness of a heart surgeon, she bend over the pot.

"Ok, apparently you are the only person on the planet who manages to stir a sauce wrong."

Jake lifted both hands to a defensive gesture,

"For the record, I tried to help. And might I add - I stirred quite a bit, this sauce wouldn't be... "

"Yeah, yeah. Great stirrer you are. Now get out of here, I have to fix this." The hacker shrugged not at all unsatisfied with himself, turned around and left the kitchen.

Lilly sat at the table in the living room, tugging and tearing on a black woolen thing that she had knitted.

"Did she finally kick you out? Told you not to go in there," she said as Jake sat down at the other side of the table. "Well, I thought I should at least try, she seems to be so utterly excited about this dinner. How...how do you think she is doing? In general, I mean."

Lilly paused the tugging and looked towards the kitchen,

"All things considered, she is doing fine. But yeah, anything that is close to a normal life is very important at the moment."

The hacker ruffled a hand through his dark hair and seemed to be reflecting on his sister's words.

"Like family dinners," he mumbled and finally pulled his laptop over the table, leaning back in the chair he set it on his lap. Over the screen, Jake glanced at his younger sister for a moment,

"That's quite the arts and crafts phase you are in," he remarked. Lilly smiled and shrugged,

"It's fun. Have you seen the window decorations I made for Hannah?"

Jake turned his head towards the window on which he spotted something dangeling, consisting of a fair amount of glitter and feathers. A cruel scene of a canary flying out of a Christmas tree, splashing on the window, came to the hacker's mind.

"Aren't they fabulous?" asked Hannah, coming out of the kitchen, she gave Jake a meaningful look.

"Yes. Fabulous," approved Jake, using that word possibly for the first time in his life.

Hannah came to a halt at the table and frowned over all the chaos - cables, hard drives, wool, knitting needles, buttons and gummybears.

"You two should start getting all this stuff out of the way, I was planning to use that table. And stop eating junk, Lil!"

"I'm not done here," protested Lilly holding up the shapeless wool creation, munching gummybears.

"What is that?" Hannah tilted her head, narrowing her eyes, trying to figure out, what exactly her sister was holding up.

"It's a hoodie!" Lilly said triumphantly, "I wanted to make something for you, Jake."

Jake lifted his head and looked doubtfully at the thing Lilly had called a hoodie. He took a long breath before he spoke hesitantly,

"Wow... for me? You really knitted that for me?" Hannah chuckled and flung an arm around Jake's shoulder, patting him gently. "Fabulous," said Jake for the second time in his life with even less conviction.

Lilly chuckled and nodded,

"I'm so glad that they had enough of the black wool at the shop. It's almost done, but I can finish after dinner." She started collecting her things, stuffing everything in a bag.

"A woolen hoodie," repeated Jake in a sorrowful tone, "sounds warm and..."

"Scratchy." Hannah finished the thought.

"Oh yes it will be," chirped Lilly with a smirk,

"Awfully scratchy and ...well shapeless, but you know what the best part is? He will wear it around me anyway, because he loves me so much and wouldn't want to hurt my feelings." Jake furrowed his brows over his sister's snickering,

"You are an evil genius," he admitted and threw a gummybear at Lilly's head. Hannah couldn't stop herself from laughing but finally said in a serious tone, "Start setting the table...now please!" which made Lilly obediently trodd into the kitchen to get the plates.

"Explain to me again, why are we doing this?" Jake asked with the eyes pinned on the screen of the laptop. Hannah sighed like someone who had to repeat herself too many times and sounded annoyed as she answered,

"Thomas went on a trip with his folks, Cleo and her mum are visiting her aunt in Coleville. So I thought it would be nice, if we do a family thing too. Just siblings having a nice dinner!"

Lilly heaved a stack of plates on the table, pretending they were heavy.

"So that's why you invited the Hawkins'? More siblings?"

"Yes, exactly. Well...- and because Jessy genuinely likes my cooking. And also with Phil here, Jake won't text him as soon as he's got enough of us - thinking we wouldn't notice." Hannah winked at her brother.

"I don't do that..." Jake protested lazily without looking up. Lilly was quick to interject,

"Oh please, you're so obvious! Hey and another thing, you are never texting me when you are with Phil. I mean ...-"

"To be fair, Lil. I assume Phil doesn't talk about crafting as much as you do lately. Anyway, no escape for you today, dearest brother." Hannah poked her sister and chuckled. Jake raised a brow and shook his head,

"You two are all about forging evil plans today, huh?"

Hannah looked around the room and sighed, "I hope there is enough space. I even swept the balcony this morning. Oh Lil, can you get the chair from the kitchen? And we need another plate." Lilly counted the plates, "But... "

Hannah held up three fingers, walking back to the kitchen she said "... all the Hawkins'."

Lilly threw her head around and looked wide eyed at her brother, who was about to put the laptop away, suddenly held up by this new piece of information.

"Angela is joining?" Lilly asked Jake who obviously didn't have a clue. She counted in her head, "I don't even remember when I saw her last. I must have been a lot younger. She doesn't come here often, to Duskwood, I mean."

Jake gazed abscently out of the window. In a way this new information seemed important but at the same time inconsequential, otherwise somebody would have told him.

He had never met Angela Hawkins. Of course, there had been some talk about her. Phil mentioned her now and then, and Jake might have been wondering about her - but he hadn't followed up on it. Which appeared now as a grave default. The hacker felt uncomfortably underinformed.

"Why didn't you tell me that Angela is coming?" he asked loudly towards the kitchen. Hannah's voice was breathless and a bit shrill, she was about to take the food out of the oven,

"Didn't know I had to... ouch...usually you find out everything before I even get to tell you."

"Didn't expect there is so much to know about a casual dinner," Jake mumbled and sat back down on the chair. He could feel Lilly's gaze on him,

"Phil didn't tell you? I mean, you would think he could have told you..."

Jake shook his head with a frown, it made his hair fall over his forehead.

"Wow...", Lilly nattered on, "...the big sister. That's like meeting the parents - just way worse. And you didn't even know about it. I mean, who knows what is going to happen. You must be nervous. Are you nervous?"

A rather sarcastic smirk appeared on Jake's face over his sisters attempt to tease him. "I'm fine, terrific even... thanks for your concern. Come on then, spit it out! What can you tell me?"

"Me? Nothing. Like I said, I was too young when I saw her last. Hannah - she used to worship Angela when she was younger, like a groupie, really embarrassing," Lilly snarled just as Hannah darted back in the room with a tray of glasses.

"Oh, I used to think she was Wonder Woman," she nodded and put the tray on the table, "I remember grilling Jessy all the time about Angela... what she reads, what music she likes, where she buys her shoes and so on."

"And why was that?" asked Jake.

"Some role model thing, maybe? I don't know, I was young and she was just this impressive, larger than life person at least with the attitude and the great hair... she appeared to be so ...strong - somehow, like she didn't even belong here. And I-," she paused and blinked,

"I don't know how to explain it better," Hannah ended with a shrug and swallowed hard. Jake didn't look quite satisfied but held his peace. It still didn't give him more information.

"It doesn't matter now," Hannah said, "that was years ago. Tonight we are just going to have dinner. Like normal people with normal lives. Completely safe, right?" She looked at Jake and he confirmed with a quick nod. "Perfect. Nice and easy." Hannah sighed with self reassuring emphasis.

Meanwhile, the three Hawkins siblings were walking through the quiet streets of Duskwood. The setting sun slowly retrieved long fingers of orange light from the fronts of the buildings.

"I just don't understand, why you insisted on walking, Duckling. Are we getting any closer?" Angela Hawkings pulled her coat around herself though it was a fairly mild evening, she threw a bunch of her dark curls over the shoulder.

"Of course we do. Stop complaining already. It's not that far anymore. Did you forget that in Duskwood everything is walking distance? Let's enjoy it!" Jessy answered cheerfully. She was in a good mood. Though she tried to contain it, her voice bubbled up to a higher pitch than usual. It had been a while since the three of them were together, and after all the events of the past year, Jessy felt relief and comfort in the company of her family. She looked up at her brother next to her and then peeked over his shoulder at her sister. Yes, being with them was neither easy nor peaceful by any chance. Nonetheless, those two were the most important people in her life, which was an unalterable certainty and, therefore, a big comfort for Jessy.

Angela let her gaze wander over the facades of the buildings they were passing - with unveiled contempt for her surroundings. She loathed this place passionately with all its memories but finally shrugged it off and sighed,

"Guess this gives us some more time. It's family time after all. I mean, nothing beats our annual Christmas pizza and beer. But a brisk walk through this - 'city'...well, why not? At least we got you out of that joint of yours," Angela pinned a sharp look on her brother walking beside her.

Phil snorted in return, he had been rather quiet the whole time and appeared to be uneasy about something.

"Don't call her a joint," he said peevishly. Jessy giggled, "Her ? Really? Her?"

"You know, Kitten, that pronoun for your bar just proves me right. You have to get out more. So cheer the fuck up! This will be good - for all of us," Angela said determined with a cryptic expression, grabbing Phil by the arm, he could feel nails digging into his jacket.

"So in conclusion, you are glad we are walking," Phil stated with a crooked smile. Still eyeing the buildings skeptically, Angela dragged him with her, picking up the pace. Jessy had to perform some jumping steps to keep up with them.

"Wait up! I'm so over the moon that we are doing this," she threw herself against Phil's other arm. He stumbled and grunted annoyed at her.

"Me too, Duckling," Angela nodded, "Though 'over the moon' is a bit strong. Calm the chipperness, will you? It's irritating..." She brushed away the curls that had fallen over her face and then mumbled,

"I think we're officially late. Were we supposed to bring something?" She let go of Phil's arm and looked past him at her younger sister.

"No, Hannah said she is making dinner and we only should bring ourselves," Jessy answered lightly but then lifted up her bag,

"Of course, good friend and outstanding person that I am - I am bringing dessert."

"You bought dessert. That's different," Phil snarled and Jessy chuckled at his side, still clinging to his arm.

"Are you saying I'm not a good person?"

"I'm saying, buying dessert isn't the same as bringing something that you made yourself."

"Well duh! I only said, I'm bringing dessert and that is be-..." Phil interrupted her with another snort,

"You bought cookies for Pete's sake! A lousy pack of cookies. That's it. Stop calling it dessert!"

Angela underlined her eye rolling with an audible sigh,

"Just let it go, Kitten. Jess, a pack of cookies does neither diminish or improve your status as a good person - plus, it's hardly dessert. Wait a sec... is that why we are late? You two were out buying fucking cookies?!"

The two younger siblings exchanged a look and with a shrug Phil answered,

"I was just driving her, I didn't know what the mission was. She confused me with all that talk about cows," he said turning to his younger sister.

"Dairy cows!" Jessy exclaimed but Angela lifted a hand and snapped,

"Let me get this straight ... I waited for you two to drive to the store and back for a stupid pack of cookies and now we left the car to walk all the way? On foot?"

Phil chuckled, "And we are back..."

"Didn't we agree that this is nice? The walk. The time we spend together? Want a cookie?" Jessy said with her facial expression oscillating between devilish and angelic, forcing a smile on her sisters face. They kept walking, holding their peace for a while.

"So... I guess I am going to meet the guy then," said Angela casually with a sideways glance at her brother.

"The guy. Your guy?" She enquired again.

"Yeah," Phil kept his eyes stubbornly fixed on the road in front of them,

"he will be there, so it would be strange if you wouldn't meet him," he muttered.

"And that is the long lost brother of the Donforts, right?"

"Oh, that's right," Jessy warbled, "You are meeting the notorious hacker, wow that is so-...,"

Angela stopped her walk so suddenly that Phil and Jessy came to a surprised halt a few steps further, turning around looking confused. Angela stood there with her arms crossed, frowning in disbelief.

"What does she mean by that?" Her tone was low and lurking. Jessy bit her lower lip and with a hint of contrition in her voice she asked Phil,

"Did you...why does she not know?"

Phil huffed as if offended, "I - did mention it. I think...maybe it didn't come up, ok?"

Angela drew a slow breath, lifting her chin, she gazed in the distance.

"So you neglected to tell me that the guy is not only the Donforts brother but...he is a hacker?" She seemed to be chewing that last word for a while and then let her sharp eyes drop on Phil who remained obstinately silent.

"The hacker, who was involved in all of- oh my God, it makes so much more sense now!" Angela couldn't believe that she didn't put this together herself.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" Jessy poked a finger in Phil's rips. "Why didn't you tell her that Jake is a wanted hacker?"

"Whoah, whoah...wanted? Wanted?!" asked Angela. Phil looked angrily at Jessy but she just rolled her eyes impatiently,

"Wanted by the government...and probably a bunch of other people. What?!" She tried to deflect Phil's death stare with a hand gesture. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette,

"Look, I don't see how this is any of your business...I didn't try to...there's a whole confluence of...circumstances - and why are you making such a fuzz now? Like I said, it didn't come up and you didn't seem to be all that interested," he stopped his own squirming by lighting the cigarette.

"When I asked you ...specifically asked you, what he does - you answered 'something with computers'," Angela narrowed her eyes.

"Well, there you go." Phil blew out the smoke with some vigor. Jessy tried to keep herself from laughing and pressed a hand against her mouth.

Angela shook her long curls again, her eyes sparked up with fury,

"Look at you being all smart-ass! Typical Hawkins communication!" she spat out angrily but then confused her siblings with a smile and a chuckle. She drove a hand through her hair and shook her head,

"You know, I cannot remember my little brother ever telling me shit about the people he was seing."

"Can you blame me?" Phil defended himself, "You eat people alive! Remember that guy Jessy introduced to us a few years ago at the Aurora anniversary? Corey...something? The one with the bike shorts. You made him cry!"

"Stanley. And that was both of you!" Jessy exclaimed and pointed a finger at her brother.

Phil seemed to remember, "Oh that's right. He always called you 'm'lady' ... like duke douchebag."

Angela nodded, "I only asked him about the shorts and where he left his bike. Just...in so many words."

"He didn't have a bike," Jessy mumbled. The silence didn't last long and all three of them burst into laughter.

Angela wiped a tear away and sighed still chuckling,

"Well, Kitten, I must say, this is actually a bit of a relief. When you said 'something with computers' - I was picturing some middle-aged guy, no hair, beige pants, pit stains..." Jessy burst into another wild snickering.

"...you know, like a guy Jessy will probably end up with one day."

"Hey!" The snickering was abruptly choked by indignation but Angela ignored her sister.

"How would a middle-aged guy come to be the brother of Hannah and Lilly?" Phil asked still attempting to point out, that he didn't hide anything.

"Again with the smart-assery? Maybe picturing you with a beige pants guy, freaked me out so much, that I refused to ask any further."

"So in conclusion, you are glad he is a hacker?" Phil put on his crooked smile again.

"I guess, we will live to see. Let's keep walking, shall we?" Angela set herself in motion and the other two followed behind her.

"Typical Hawkins negotiation," complained Jessy "...insulting me in the process."

"Ouh, don't be so sensitive, Duckling!" Angela waved a hand at her younger sister,

"I'm curious, what does this Jake not know about me then?"

Phil drew a long breath, "That you eat people alive. And that you are coming to dinner."

"Shh...I think that's them." Lilly leaned over the railing of the balcony. Hannah got up from her chair,

"I'll let Jake know." She turned to go inside.

"Stay here...listen to this," Lilly whispered, pulling her sister by the arm. They could hear Jessy saying "...and that will be the tipping point where dairy cows take over the power."

"Why dairy cows? Is their state of labor of importance? Is this a communist thing?" Phil sounded rather irritated.

"Cowmunism!"

"If you two don't stop this, I will bang your heads together like coconuts!" That was Angela's voice. "Is it here? Oh, I think Mr. Hunter lives in this building...I'll go check."

The door bell rang and Lilly and Hannah both went to great the guests. Jake slowly got up from his seat but stayed behind a bit. Lilly ripped the door open.

"Jesus, you scared me, Lil!" Jessy said with a hand on her chest.

"Hello girls, I hope we're not too late," Phil smiled. Lilly looked frowning at him and then over his shoulder in the hallway.

"Where is Angela?" she asked eagerly.

Hannah rolled her eyes and pushed her aside to give Jessy a hug.

"Nice to see you," then she pulled herself up to kiss Phil on the cheek, "come in, come in. You're not too late, dinner is ready and waiting in the kitchen."

"Angela wanted to check out if that Mr. Hunter is still living downstairs. Apparently he used to buy her beer back in the days..." Jessy took off her jacket and rummaged in her bag,

"By the way, dessert is somewhere in here..."

"You're not really saying that to the person who single handedly cooked dinner for us?" Phil snarled angily, waving a hand at Jessy.

"Single handed? Guess who stirred the sauce?" Jake uttered raising a brow, he was leaning himself against the wall in the back. Phil smiled quickly at him but then turned back to Hannah,

"You let him stir something? So are we still having dinner or what?" Hannah rolled her eyes and chuckled,

"Yeah, no worries. I fixed it."

Jessy finally held up the bag of cookies,

"If Jake gets credit for stirring, I am going to take some for this as well."

Lilly grabbed the bag out of her hand,

"Ouh, yum...bless your heart, Jessy!"

Through the open door they could hear steps coming up the stairs. Angela snuck herself in between Jessy and Phil,

"Wow, small hallway for so many people. Turns out, it wasn't the Mr. Hunter I used to know, nice guy, though - he gave me this brochure that possibly will save my soul." Hannah nodded with a knowing smile,

"Oh, so you met my neighbor. Apart from the cult thing, he is indeed a nice guy."

"Hannah!" Angela reached out and touched Hannah's cheek before she pulled her in an embrace, "Damn, it's so great to see you! Thank you for being so brave to invite us," she said with a stern look at her siblings.

"I'm so happy that you could make it," Hannah let herself sink into Angela's arms.

"Is that your sister? Lilly... wow, I think you were only reaching up to my knee when I last layed eyes on you."

"That's... great," Lilly sounded excited, almost to the point of getting hiccups, "Angela, have you met my -"

"Lil, let's go. I need you to help me with the food." Hannah interrupted her rigorously.

"But I -,"

"Now!" And she grabbed her younger sister by the arm and dragged her out of the hallway.

Jake, who had been watching silently as was his habit, felt like a spotlight was pointed at him all of the sudden.

He blinked a few times and straightened himself up but finally managed to focus his gaze on Angela.

Indeed an impressive presence, was Jake's first thought. The eyes pointed at him were green brown like Jessy's but then unlike her's they were like daggers or crystals, sharp and illuminated by a cold light from inside. Thick long black curls streamed around her face and down her shoulders, she was almost as tall as Phil and their resemblance was clear as day - the same pale face with fine skin and sharp cut features like it was carved out of marble.

Suddenly Jake felt Angela's gaze on him tightening like a grip around his neck and he wouldn't be able to move even if he tried. Her voice was deep and sonorous,

"Let's have a look at you then," Angela stepped forward with her eyes fixed on the motionless hacker.

"Obviously nobody told you that we would meet each other today, so apart from being blind sided at least we have some honest ground here. Although I have the higher one, I guess, since that whole hacker business came out - did you know that this crownjewel of a brother didn't even mention this occupation of yours?"

Jake cast a quick look over Angela's shoulder where Phil stood pouting and Jessy next to him pulling her shoulders up to make herself invisible, she seemed excited nonetheless.

"So a hacker, huh?" Angela raised her voice again and forced Jake's attention back on her,

"Can't say I ever met a person who does what you do. I don't even know what it is you do... must be wild. Being wanted by the government. No, I am not quick to judge, don't you worry. There could be a lot of good things to be done, I imagine. So, are you a good guy, Jake?"

"I...-"

"Wow, I sounded like the big sister there, didn't I? Well, you know how it is, Jake. I have to hand it to you, sometimes you just get protective. Even if you are a good guy, I guess you just can't be a safe guy, can you?"

Jake felt dizzy and his tongue seemed heavy to lift,

"That is...", he couldn't get further.

"An issue, right? Well, we all have those, this whole city is a conglomerate of issues. You don't have to tell me that. So if I had, let's say, a problem with my taxes, would you be able to - make it go away?"

Jake sounded breathless in another attempt to speak,

"Well...under certain..."

Angela turned her head and said over her shoulder,

"He is awfully cute, isn't he? No, Jake, no need for tax evasion, thanks anyway. I wasn't serious but you seem like a serious person,"

"Surely that seems ...-"

"Sorry, hun, I just have to get this one thing in. A serious person... makes the kitten an interesting choice for you, Jake, I must say. And vice versa! I mean, I know he's a dish and all - and but foremost a piece of work, as you surely noticed. Was it the first or the second impression that you had? You don't seem to mind work, do you, Jake?"

Hesitantly, Jake shook his head, not sure what he was doing anymore.

"Okay then, glad to see there's issues and beige pants are not one of them. Damn, that food smells good! Nice talking to you, Jake. We really should have that dinner now." Angela turned around and flew out of the hallway in direction living room.

The dizziness that had befallen Jake refused to disperse, he stood there with an uncomprehending look that he finally threw towards Phil.

"And that's my sister Angela," he said slowly and attempted a contagious smile. Jessy chuckled and sighed,

"Oh, Jake, don't be mad at Phil. It's my fault, I begged him. I really wanted to see the impact of hurricane Angela," she patted the hacker on the shoulder as she passed him to join the others in the next room.

Phil stepped closer towards Jake, still smiling. Though the posture radiated compassion, the hacker knew he would not hear an apology. Jake bend his lips into a sarcastic smirk and felt his head finally stopped spinning,

"So...there was no way, you could have given me a hint of what awaits me here tonight, kitten?"

Phil sighed and brushed a strand of Jake's hair back,

"Well, you know how it is, sisters and so on," he shook his head,

"At least she spit you right back out, she must really like you."

Jake swallowed and frowned,

"You think? How? I didn't even..."

"...finish a sentence? That's alright," Phil laughed and Jake was surprised how reassuring it felt, this family business was new to him but he would get the hang of it.

"You did just fine, lover, better than most," Phil said teasingly, "still standing, no crying. The queeziness will pass, you'll see! Or at least the cause will change, you'll never know - it's still a family dinner and all. Excuse me, lover, am I boring you?" He frowned at Jake, who typed on his phone,

"Not at all, I just remembered something...," The hacker lifted his head with a guileful smile. He suddenly brushed a kiss against Phil's unsuspecting lips.

"I'm starving, let's go in," said Jake.

"Oh my God, Hannah, this is delicious," chewed Angela, "If those boys don't join us soon, I cannot guarantee there will be anything left!"

Lilly was just taking a zip of her glass as her phone started buzzing. "Jake..?", she mumbled confused.

[Is that hoodie ready yet? I think I have to give some punitive hugs.]

As Jake and Phil sat down at the table, Lilly leaned forward and whispered to her brother,

"You know, I could knit some underwear too."

Jake nodded and pointed his fork at her,

"That's my evil genius."

#duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fanfic #jake x phil #duskwood jail #duskwood jake #duskwood phil

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intoduskoutofdawn · 1 year ago

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Lost Scenes Thursday! Get to know your favourite authors better. Show five scenes from either abandoned fics where you regret they will never see the light of day, or five scenes from WIPs where you are impatient to see them out there. Long, short, one-liner... it's all good reading. Tag five other authors where you are curious.

(feel free to ignore it though :))

Hey :) Five scenes? Can I do two? I'm sure that'll be okay.

||No 1.||

Out of a play, that isn't finished

The silence in the room finally forced Max to speak - just to break it and kick spitefully through the shards,

"Is this you trying to avoid a conversation?"

"I know how to not have a conversation," Simon sighed, "You start it with a conclusion."

Finally, an opportunity to disagree, Max sat up straight because he couldn't do it lying on his back. The couch was too soft to disagree properly, but he would try anyway.

"I don't believe it."

Simon didn't move at all, barely even as he inhaled,

"And neither did I."

"Did what?" Max asked out of reflex.

Simon didn't answer. Of course, it was not the right question. Simon didn't imply that he did something, he stated that he as well as him, Max, didn't do...something.

But he couldn't ask what he was referring to. It was not done, not committed... first by him and then by Simon. That bastard! He freed himself so easily. The conversation could have only happened before, and now there was no way back into it.

Sour taste of anger. Why couldn't he, at least once, win. He could have chosen differently, the company of people who admired him. Oh yes, he had met a few admirers - it wasn't even that hard. No silence to break, no fights to lose, or to fight at all. He could have chosen the easy way. But he didn't.

Max lifted his head and smiled like someone drawing the first hungry breath after being deprived of air.

"And neither did you."

|| No. 2||

A part of a letter, that wasn't sent.

"There I was. In bed. On my back, placed right in the middle, framed by a perfect rectangle. Right leg straight, the left leg bent - a triangle. I might have switched sides at some point, at least considered it. Another triangle - my right arm with my head resting on my hand, red in the middle. Neatly arranged geometry, so peaceful.

How could I be in that much pain? Strange, physical pain with no physical cause. And don't tell me now that is what a broken heart feels like. I will never admit to a term lacking all originality. Not even out of the geometrical safety. I'm not humble when I'm wrong."

#never finish never ever #writers on tumblr #writing

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intoduskoutofdawn · 1 year ago

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...I will find you ....

Don't get me wrong, I'm over the moon that he showed up like he did, but...*putting my smartypants on*

MC - not in hiding, waiting for weeks to hear news, very possibly holding up in the same place when Duskwood ended. Finding? Can't be that hard.

Hacking MC's phone - ouh, Jake... every stranger with a missing person problem has access to that number, unkknown people all over the place are using this number. Quite obviously the number didn't change since Duskwood. Of course it takes a hack and a mysterious bodycam shot with you! I mean it's still nice to be contacted in a way only you can do it. ;)

#moonvale #moonvale everbyte #good try jake #duskwood #duskwood jake

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intoduskoutofdawn · 1 year ago

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A rather quick and imperfect fanart of Eric :)

(Okay. Okay. I've chosen to give Everbyte the benefit of the doubt and allow them time to properly digest the feedback.)

#haaaaaaah thats the abscence of ai relief #anti ai #moonvale #moonvale fanart #Eric Moonvale

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intoduskoutofdawn · 1 year ago

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|| I WILL FIND YOU ||

Duskwood (meets) Moonvale Oneshot

WARNINGS : contains Moonvale episode 1 spoilers

CHARACTERS: mostly Alan Bloomgate and Jake, with mentions of Richy and Mc ofc 😊

A/N: Hello, hello! 😊 Uhm, well, I kinda wrote something that might got inspired with the (very) end of Moonvale 🤭 So here, have my first Duskwood meets Moonvale oneshot! Hope you'll find it likeable! 💚 Oh, and please, don't mind any mistakes you might stumble upon, it's 2am here, and I'm barely keeping my eyes open 😅

The hell with the FBI!

Alan curse inside for the umpteenth time already, as he slowly and carefuly searched through the Duskwood forest. He was the bloody Chief of Duskwood's police, and the moment the FBI showed, they treated him as some kind of rookie?? Outrageous!

He was actually grateful to be alone right now, because if that arogant FBI's agent in charge once more addressed him with such undermining tone, he would punch him right in the face with all he got!

He stops for a short moment and takes a deep breath to calm his raging nerves. Continuing on, his thoughts began to wander back to all that happened ever since he managed to finally get in touch with Mc.

Could the outcome of this all be any different if he only listened to her, like REALLY listened, from the start?

Would he be able to stop the explosion that happened in the mine, and not wander around feeling guilty and responsible for the most probable demise of young Mr. Rogers? If only he trusted that little voice at the back of his mind just a bit more...

His train of thoughts suddenly gets interrupted by a rustling coming from a close vicinity.

"Who's there?" his voice comes out firm as he turns toward the source of the sound, his flashlight and gun pointed steadily in the same direction.

He waited for a moment, and when there was no response he tries again.

"My name is Alan Bloomgate, Duskwood's Chief of Police. I'm armed, so I suggest you come out, slowly, and show yourself."

"Don't shoot, I'm unarmed."

A short heartbeat later he grips his gun tighter as rustling comes once again from behind a tree a few feet away from him.

Alan watch as a young dark haired man slowly appears from behind the tree, and from the way the man moved, he immediately knew he wasn't alone either.

"Please, he needs help."

Alan stood still in his spot, closely paying attention to every move the dark haired man did. But when he finally looked at the other person, his eyes open wide.

"My god, Richy Rogers!"

Unable to keep both of them on their feet, the dark haired man collaps to the ground, Alan instantly movig towards them, putting his gun away.

"Is he all right?" he drops to his knees next to Richy, quickly putting his fingers on his neck to feel his pulse.

"I- I don't know." dark haired man replies, Alan detecting discomfort in his voice.

He turns his gaze to him, his expert eyes noticing right away some bloody stains all over his hoodie, which looked pretty torn on some places, too.

'And you? Are you all right?"

The black haired just nods before Alan speaks again "Mind telling me how you got out of the mine?

The young man tried to hide the surprise from his face at his question, Alan smirking in response "No need to act so surprised. After all, I have a pretty good guess who you are."

He could notice the young man tensing so he quickly speaks "Also, you do not have to worry - your seizing isn't at the top of my list right now." He turns his attention back to Richy "But helping him is - his pulse is very weak"

He starts to get back up, lifting Richy along in his arms. "So, if I were you, I would start moving in that direction."

"Wait!" the dark haired man calls confused afer Alan, who already started to walk from him in the opposite way "Why are you doing this? Letting me go - the FBI won't go easy on you for it."

"Screw the FBI!" Alan yells over his shoulder, but then stops and turns back "But if you must know, I owe it to someone - and that someone happens to be very fond of you."

The young man breaths in astonishing making Alan chuckle. But his face turns back serious again "But also, firstly and mostly, I am a police officer. So go now, use this leverage as best as you can. Because our next encounter won't be this pleasant."

The young man stare silently as Chief Alan turns and continue on his way. And even though he was tired and in a lot of pain, a smile crawled on his face as he watched Alan vanish among the dark of a forest "There won't be next encounter."

4 WEEKS LATER

Jake's eyes jumped all around the screen in front of him. His fingers were flying hastily over the numbers and letters on his keyboard. He wanted to do this as fast as possible. It already passed too much time before he managed to recover and acquire new equipment. And he also did not want to spend another second with the thought how Mc must be worried about him, not knowing if he's even alive.

And that thought pained him intolerably.

So he begin to type even faster, and not a minute later he leans back in his chair, waiting eagerly for confirmation tha she accepts the message he just sent her.

He didn't have to wait long for the sound alerting him of her acceptance, his hand lifting and hitting the enter key on his keyboard ao fast and hard, it was a miracle it didn't break.

With longing, he imagined her surprised face as she watched how Alan found his things in the forest, wishing that he could tell her in person that he is alive and well.

But just like that, that longing dispersed, and his face beamed with a smile, just like the one he knew for sure she has on her beautiful face right now, as his message came to its end and the image appeared on the screen:

A/N: I'm sorry, but I just had to use this picture! 🥺🥺😭😭💚💚

#moonvale #duskwood fanfiction #moonvale fanfiction #duskwood everbyte #duskwood alan #duskwood jake #duskwood mc

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