#alan x barry

[tanis-drawings-2point0]

if remedy doesnt let alan reunite with his best buddy pal boy best friend barry after all this torment i WILL get violent.....

[taniushka12]

[tanis-fics]

Hypothermia

At last, Alan Wake escapes the Dark Place for good, but stumbles in the way out when an unnatural cold freezes over his very core. Luckily he's not alone this time, and the people he loves the most help him warm up.

Pairings: Alan Wake/Alice Wake/Barry Wheeler × Alan Wake/Alice Wake × Alan Wake/Barry Wheeler × Alice Wake & Barry Wheeler ♦ Words: 3215

[on ao3] ♦ [on squidgeworld] ♦ [read on site]

 What once was a fancy suit now was hardly distinguishable from the dark place he was trapped in, sticking, wrapping around his skin slick and wet like dark seaweed around an unsuspecting diver. Alan didn't know when he started shivering, when his hands gave up trying to take off the damned thing, when his eyes started losing focus and the newfound heartbeat started feeling slower and slower, but before the dark (not The Dark, but close enough to make him sick) could claim him hands shined in that darkness.

 They helped him. They always did. Alice loosened the noose of his tie and struggled with the buttons that appeared to be melted on the fabric as Barry took off everything else, layer after layer after layer. Alan didn't remember wearing those many layers, but the thing that was being peeled by his best friend could hardly be described as clothing anymore.

 Even as the last layer of thin film-like substance was removed from his body and quickly replaced by a dry towel he felt weak. The slick cold still stuck to his skin like a disease, and Alan feared the prospect of never getting rid of it, after so much struggle, after so many years. Gentle hands rubbed the towel against his skin, against his heavy wet hair, his bushy beard, long extremities too numb to try to do it on their own.

 He could hear them talking around him, voices floating aimlessly without him being able to catch them, but regardless Alan smiled weakly, almost feverish, at that. When was the last time his beloved wife and best friend seemed to be on the same page together? Vague threads of memory resurfaced slowly as the warmth of the towel started to sink in, echoes in the dark that could have been real as much as deceptive, and the mere fact that they could have had happened in the past decades without him knowing, without him being there, made a pit on his stomach. He had lost so much time with them.

 "Here you go, Al, drink this."

 Alan could only make a nondescript noise at the sight of a steaming cup of something, larger hands wrapping around his own as Barry helped him take the cup to his lips. Hot chocolate. Oh, it had been a while since he last had a hot chocolate, hadn't it? He almost chokes on the drink as grief threatened to close off his throat, if not for the sets of hands cupping his own and caressing his feeble neck.

 The warmth penetrated his body in small yet thick doses, down his throat and through his veins. It was uncomfortable, it almost hurt, too, but he took it in stride. With it Alan could feel some of his senses coming back as he held on tighter to the mug with his own hands, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it flow freely trough his lips, seeing the steam curl around in the air as it disappeared into the room... Which room was it? For a second Alan hoped, feared, to see his very own room in Parliament Tower, but they were clearly not in it. No, this room was smaller, both messier and emptier in a way that made him feel vaguely melancholic, with a framed photograph sitting on the other side of it.

 He recognized Barry immediately, like a mirage, but it took him longer to recognize himself at his side.

 Has he's even been in that room? In that house? Did Barry move? Did something happen? Alan couldn't remember. Was any of this even real?

 Before he could ponder further he felt the towel being taken off his shoulders, and even though it had grown cold with time a complaint escaped him nonetheless, finding a small comfort on the pressure of it. Such complaint died as soon as it started when he felt a different kind of warmth envelop him instead, arms slipping through his waist to wrap around his stomach, pulling him closer.

 Barry looked different from what he remembered, he wasn't too far gone to not realize something bad had happened despite the vague feeling that he should know exactly what, but in that moment, in that hug, he was the same old Barry Wheeler he knew and loved since they were children. A crushing hug with an excess of concern and anxiety that made him bark a weak laugh for the first time in a very long time. Skin against skin the remnants of his subnatural cold quickly extinguished as he shivered for entirely different reasons.

 To lay together to avoid the deadly cold, now that was an old cliché if he ever saw one. He would be lying if he said he never used it himself in one of his books, the appeal was clear, but he couldn't figure out how they could possibly imagine the situation applied here. Decades of continuous drowning in the Dark Place was not a mere case of hypothermia.

 Regardless, he leaned into it. Alan leaned into him in that tight space the same way he would wrap inside an old cozy blanket in a cold, cold winter night.

 Looking up for what it felt the first time he met the gaze of his beautiful, wonderful wife with surprise. As much as he could muster, anyway. Former apprehensions wanted to crawl up his skin with the slow dawning of the scene, feeling the comfortable warmth of his best friend's front and side enveloping him completely from behind, wanting to sink into it yet dreading the bickering that it might entice. But Alice's eyes reflected back only the profound love he was feeling at the moment, coupled with a deep sense of sadness directed at the scene.

 Before Alan could grab her hand and tug her into his aching arms, however, something else distracted him. Hot tears were rolling down his back to split where skin met skin, leaving a burning trail on it. Barry was crying, messy and snotty and pressing his cheek on his shoulder blades as he buried his hands on the hollow of his stomach.

 The memory of leaving him on the well-lit room flashed on his mind's eye, desperately trying to derive meaning as the loops and years built and crumpled like sandcastles on his mind. But he did remember leaving him for what he hoped wasn't the last time. And as he tried and failed to turn around to face him, Alan twisted enough to lean his forehead against Barry's head, wrapping a stiff arm around it to bring him closer than physically possible, his other hand grasping his tight embrace until his fingers hurt with the effort.

 Nudging the ever receding hairline with the tip of his nose, Alan couldn't help but smile when Barry cried harder. He had always been a bit of a crybaby, ever since they were kids.

 His burning cheek and fuzzy chest pressed tightly against his naked back were new. So were the heavy hands anchoring on his front as if he tried to keep him in that plane of existence all by himself. Knowing Barry, he probably was. He, however, didn't say a word as the mattress shifted under the added pressure of Alice, who silently joined the embrace and quickly warmed up the places that were left untouched, making a place for herself between his tucked legs and bare neck.

 Alan took a deep, shaky breath, swallowing on the verge of but not quite overwhelmed. This was so much better than the towel.

 Just like that he got swayed by the newer, kinder currents of hands, and warmth, and flesh, digits mapping skin that hasn't been kissed by the sun in a long long time, lips that tried to do its job instead. He nearly let himself be pulled under once again, not by a cold and dark ocean but a bright one, loving, when the memory of touch sparked slowly on his mind. It had been a while, hasn't it? He couldn't remember the last time he was touched like that, akin that.

 Except that'd be a lie, because he did remember.

 Flashes of touch, bright, and loud, got thrown into the mix that was his scrambled brain. Flashes of touch, and sex, and death, of holding a man holding him down, holding a gun. Blood dripping down his face blood dripping down from his face. Pulling the trigger. Kissing him. Tasting copper behind his teeth.

 Suddenly the calming contact burned his skin and Alan jumped further into the mattress, shielding his body and face with his arms, feeling shameful under the gaze of the woman he loved so, so dearly.

 "I'm... I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Mortification bloomed on his throat like icy water, replacing the newfound warmth inside of him. "I'm sorry, Alice, I- I..."

 Beyond the shield that were his arms he could see the confusion painting his loved ones' features, and he simply curled tighter when Alice tried to reach for him.

 "Hey," she said, reassuringly, as if talking to a frightened animal, "it's okay, Alan. You're here now, you're safe. We're both safe."

 "Y... yeah, but-" Guilt started dawning of him, of things done over and over again. He remembered now, seeking that same warmth with the one person who pulled him under again and again and loving every second of it. At least until their collaborations went too far, and he got twisted beyond recognition. Playing a sick character on a twisted fantasy.

 He rolled his ring with his thumb, his only real landline back when he could hardly retain anything that wasn't his fucking name. Not that it ended up mattered much, apparently. The feeling of sweat, and blood, and other fluids sticking grossly to his body like a stain he couldn't clean.

 "I... Alice, I cheated. I cheated and I, I've done worse. I've- I've done some terrible things, I-" The Taken didn't bleed, then why did he remembered so much blood on his hands? On his skin? Paired with the utmost certainty that it was all his fault. So much pain and suffering, all of it, he- He didn't deserve this, this love, he-

 Delicate hands grabbed him by the wrists, touch soft, yet firm, as they uncovered his panicked face and then made him look up. Alice held his face unflinching, with an alarming lack of surprise on her features beyond a knowing shadow on her eyes, a light crease on her eyebrows that he so wished to smooth over. Had he already told her that? Instead, she caressed his cheeks with her thumbs before leaning her forehead on his.

 "Alan." Her voice was clear, understanding, yet not lenient. He braced himself for whatever she had to say, already expecting anger, painful words that he could almost remember hearing with her voice, but reality wasn't as indulging. Alice nudged the tip of his nose with hers, the ghost of a smile gracing her features. "You're home. That's all that matters to me. That's all that matters, for now."

 The striking blue of her eyes was blinding and disarming, and as the tension left his body he couldn't help but sob. He felt like choking, but instead of angry tears against the cold wood they met his wife's hands and lips as she kissed his quivering mouth, over and over again before wrapping her arms around him. Alice was trembling too. Feeling her close, so close as she burrowed her face on the hollow of his neck and he clung to her back for the first time in a lifetime, he could easily feel her trembling as he cried.

 Behind the blood drumming loudly on his ears and the sobbing, however, Alan eventually heard a foreign sniffling, and despite the mixed feelings of guilt and death and love and gratitude he raised his gaze enough to look at his friend, sitting on the far corner of the mattress.

 Barry was drying what little was still wet of his face with a hand, looking anywhere but them to give them some space, and with an air of embarrassment. He lingered as if he had the intention to leave but couldn't will himself to do it, and if Alan was being honest, he didn't want him to.

 He couldn't remember more than bits and pieces, but he could remember that he forgot, forgot about Alice, her voice, her face; forgot about Barry, too. He might not deserve them, but he didn't want to forget them ever again, as long as he was alive. With a trembling hand he wrapped his fingers around his shoulder, calling his attention. His puffy eyes met him immediately, and something curious happened.

 He watched Barry watching him, watching Alice, and Alice shifted inside his embrace. Holding his breath and his tears for a second for an old-time sense of pride he could feel an implicit question in the air, and an answer he couldn't catch before his breath got knocked out from him by his friend jumping to join in the hug, throwing them out of balance in the process.

 Alan cried, and laughed, a relieved and wet squeak that somehow found its way around tangled limbs and tangled sheet, a warm cacophony strangled between the two bodies of the people he loved the most, holding him tight.

 Time kept ticking on the real world. Time wasn't a stagnant thing that echoed in it itself, a perpetual night that could last centuries. Here Alan could actually see the way the room changed color as sunlight touched his face, the walls and finally the ceiling, could feel Alice burying herself on her side with leftover fear as the yellow and orange tinge of the air grew darker, as Barry moved around the apartment in quick motion, reassuring him. (Reassuring them?)

 Alan wondered what he was doing, eyes closed sometime ago as the cathartic cry left him weak of mind and body. But as the light behind his eyelids slowly dawned it quickly got replaced by a myriad of colors, and that easily sparked a buried memory. He opened his eyes to christmas lights hanged high around the room.

 "Barry. Really?"

 "What? You never know when you're gonna need them." When he sat on the bed again he was wearing an old band shirt, one that Alan swore seemed familiar. "They actually made a show about that, you know? You have to watch it sometime."

 Alice groaned. Alan smile widened, sleepy yet curious, less so about whatever show his beloved friend was talking about and more about her reaction. Have they had this conversation before? Alice never seemed to be completely at ease when Barry was around, back then, but now...

 Well.

 If Alan had any piece of mind he might have actually been surprised to his own almost complete nudity, and the lesser, yet still surprising amount of skin they both were seemingly comfortable showing around each other, but he was beyond any of that at the moment. Sleep wanting to join their embrace as he clung to consciousness, to the people around him that he didn't want to part with, didn't want to sink back into darkness despite the treacherous yawn that escaped his mouth.

 Around him Barry chucked, and Alice nuzzled the side of his face with a smile that tickled his skin, before cupping his cheek and peppering him with kisses. Alan was too exhausted to answer, humming instead, long and deep. She really wasn't helping... feeling his friend's hand on his hair, starting to mess with it before combing it with his fingers, didn't help either.

 "Hey Al," Barry started, mocking smile tainted by fondness, "have I've ever told you... you remind me of a cat? A big, cranky cat."

 He huffed an indignant noise, bluffing an annoyance that he couldn't muster to feel, not now, with Alice's surprised laugh pressed against his skin.

 "He really does, doesn't he?" Alan wanted to argue, yet he couldn't do more than melt against her hand as it slid down his cheek and beard, mapping the hollow of his neck and collarbone, caressing each and every muscle like a precious thing. The motion sparked on his mind the image of a cat sprawled at length, purring loudly as multitude of hands groomed him. Unfortunately, he saw the resemblance.

 "He's knocked out cold, huh? Can't even defend himself..."

 "Well, he must be exhausted... He's been through... he's been through a lot..."

 "Yeah, no shit... Wait, you-?"

 "Mhm."

 Sighing heavily, he started resigning to his sleeping fate lulled by their voices, only tangentially aware of their conversation. He had been through a lot. He could feel it on his aching bones.

 "How... What was it even-?"

 "It was Hell."

 The silence was deafening, then, prelude of memories being drowned by the drag of skin and the flickering of colored light.

 "I..." The lips on his neck hesitated, before Alice shifted again, laying her head on his chest. "I am sorry, by the way. I really am."

 Pressed at his side he felt Barry tense a bit, and Alan finally, finally croaked, confused at the lingering apology.

 "'bout what?"

 Both heads turned to face him, in unexpected surprise.

 "About..." Alice's gaze jumped between them, before smiling a rather sad smile. "Well, the things I did. And the things I, I had to do. I'm sorry about everything I had to do."

 Alan had no idea what she was talking about, but with the very last bit of strength he slowly shifted and held her even closer to his chest. Nothing she could ever do would be as terrible to warrant such sadness on her eyes. Alice held on tighter, holding her breath.

 At his side, Barry shifted too, eventually. Face now smooshed against an arm that didn't have any more energy to embrace him properly while he wrapped his own around his stomach, like the world's worst giant pillow, before doing something that surprised Alan even in the state he was in. While his arm laid around him his hand reached further, giving Alice's arm a light squeeze before keeping it close by. The reply to that was a simple smile, and a calmer exhale.

 As everything he's seen since he got out of the Dark Place, Alan wondered about that gesture too. He'll have to ask them to fill in the details when they had the time, for he did not trust his own looping and tainted memory. What was real? What was a nightmare, a fabrication, or wishful thinking? He needed to hear it from them. He needed to hear everything.

 But they both waited so much time for him, he could wait some more for them.

 For now, Alan simply laid there inside the embrace of the two people he loved most in the world, bathed in the flickering christmas light. The coming darkness when he finally closed his eyes was dulled by the faint colors, former ache on his bones lulled by the human warmth that surrounded him now. Between feeling the rise and fall of their breathing and hearing their lingering conversations, for the first time in many, many years, Alan Wake was able to sleep in peace.

[velvetjune]

Alan being a parautilitarian the FBC wanted for the prime candidate program and to lock up; Alice possessing a possible camera OOP and requested to be taken in after her FBC visit caused Hartman to break containment; Barry joining the Blessed cult that the FBC is currently hunting down and arresting anyone involved. Gotta love a trio that are all wanted by the federal government

[winters0689]

WHERE ARE THE BARRY X ALAN SHIPPERS AT????!!!!!! You cannot tell me that Barry didn’t have a one sided crush on Alan!

[scratchwake]

me and my friend @junipertheberry started talking about an Alan Wake Muppet AU where Alice is Camilla the Chicken and Alan is Kermit, (Sarah is the token human) but then that led us down the rabbit hole of Barry being miss piggy, which in turn led to them saying in an awful NY accent:

"GADDAMMIT KERMIE, WE DONT WANT ANOTHA INCIDENT WIT THE PAPARAZZI"

(also other notable characters include Evil Russian Kermit as Scratch, Animal as ALL OF THE TAKEN or potentially both Anderson brothers with him running across the screen to play each one, the Swedish Chef as Hartman and Gonzo as Agent Nightingale)

remedy when are you making the movie come on now

[autisticwriterblog]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Alan Wake (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alan Wake/Alice Wake/Barry Wheeler, Alan Wake/Alice Wake, Alan Wake/Barry Wheeler, Alice Wake & Barry Wheeler Characters: Alan Wake, Alice Wake, Barry Wheeler Series: Part 7 of Multiamory March 2024, Part 215 of Polyamory Fics, Part 46 of Into the Remedyverse Summary: Barry and Alice don’t get on, but they work together to give Alan an amazing birthday present.

Written for Multiamory March hosted by @polyamships. Prompt: Team-up

V-shaped polyamory. (So Alan/Barry and Alan/Alice are dating, but not Alice & Barry)

[shinolavolume1]

I need to make an alan wake amv set to arthurs theme by Christopher cross

[koskela-knights]

Imagine if the AW2 fandom had blown up

Iike fandoms in the early 2000s did or even 2010s when the first game actually came out.

Just imagine the kind of music videos we could've gotten

Bring Me To Life ALAN WAKE FAN VIDEO

Alan x Alice || Everytime We Touch Fan MV

Mr Scratch x Alan YAOI BL

ScratchWake || Malchik Gay NSFW!

What Hurts The Most - Jaakko RIP Tribute

For Your Entertainment - Mr Scratch + bonus yaoiii

HOT AW BOYS 18+ Sexy Naughty Bitchy

Rose/Alan Rarepair! Diary of Rose

Jaakko and Ilmo - Promise of lifetime

Alan & Barry are best friends! (Toy-Box Best Friend)

Mister Scratch Tribute- MONSTER

Ilkka Villi is Mr Wonderful

[tanis-drawings-2point0]

hi do you ever think about this paragraph of the page Building the Valhalla Nursing Home? how thats the last we hear of barry From The Story, up until the emails (and thus outside his narrative)? How it sounds more like an affirmation, wistful thinking, than anything else? A last farewell to his best friend, wishing him the best? *taps microphone* is this thing on? do you ever think about alan wake and barry wheeler? hello? can anyone hear me?

[taniushka12]

Interviewer: Can you tell me what your relationship to alan wake is?

Barry: I'm Al's right hand arm... man, I'm Al's everything, I'm his agent, his best friend, his silly rabbit

Interviewer: His what?

Barry: His silly rabbit

Interviewer: His silly rabbit?

Barry: Yeah

Interviewer: Is that what he calls you?

Barry: ........................ no.

-

Alan on the dark place, 7 years in, monologuing to himself after seeing said echo of barry: Barry really was my silly rabbit......... 😔

[tanis-fics]

Kiss your friend goodnight

Walking her best friend home after a night of partying in the city, Barbara gets a bit nostalgic, a bit possessive, at the thought of her friend's husband waiting to snatch her up when they get there. And between the booze and her affection the eventual sight of him proves abysmal, ending on an innocent gesture feeling like a declaration of war.

Pairing: Alan Wake/Barry Wheeler ♦ Words: 1426 ♦ Note: Genderbend au

[on ao3] ♦ [on squidgeworld] ♦ [read on site]

 Coming home was the hardest part, almost as hard as dealing with the fallout of Al's worst habits, if Barbara was honest. She could deal with those (some of those, at least) ever since they were both in primary school; not a writer and her agent but two girls, one with a predisposition for annoyance and bursts of anger, and the other with a motor for a mouth that could get her out of almost any trouble she'd cause or get tangled in.

 No... cleaning up Al's messes was, if anything, the only art she truly excelled at.

 But coming home -Al's home- and feeling the bubble of night excitement mixed with booze burst by the eventual presence of her husband was such a sour pill to take, she hated it. And, only in her weakest, most inebriate moments, she would hate him.

 What did it matter if Alana ran off from party to party into the night? It was good for business, she argued, and it wasn't like she was alone! She had her best friend and best agent on her side, god dammit! Did he not trust her to keep her safe? Bold words from someone that only knew her for a couple of years when they've been together practically all their lives!

 Alana laughed at her side, a tsizing sound that betrayed her drunken state, and Barbara wondered if she said that last part thing out loud or not. Probably not. Hopefully not.

 "Anyway, Al," she continued, slurring her words on pair with her feet, stealing a couple moments more with her, "What, what I'm trying to say is..."

 "Is...?" Her best friend dragged, in the sweet middle point between encouragement and mocking.

 "I just miss you, is all!" Alana snorted, stopping on the hallway to lay her back on the cold wall, dropping her coat on the floor in the process.

 "Barb, we see each other all the time, we, we work together" Barbara joined the wall at her side, her now naked arm warm to the touch.

 "I know! I know, but..."

 "I think you just miss crashing at my house." She laughed, a bit harder than she anticipated.

 "Hey, can you blame me? You have a gorgeous place, despite your hubby's tacky photography." Alana rolled her eyes, but the smile didn't waver. Barbara's did, only when she realized the sudden light under the door at the end of the hall. God, did he had a sixth sense? What was he up for, anyway? It was late. "I just miss having you around off the clock, is all..." With him always skulking around, she didn't say, sighing instead. "Remember how we used to do movie nights and stuff? When was the last time we had a girls night at your place, huh?"

 "We should have a girl's night." Alana nodded, booze and sleep tinting her words as she leaned her head on her friend's shoulder, both of them ignoring the fact that they've been going out nearly weekly by now. Alana liked the alcohol, and Barbara loved to see her friend happy. Alec wasn't fond of either, apparently, for when the door at the end of the hallway eventually opened the eyes that met Barbara's were cold.

 "Alana...?" And just like that the warmth at her shoulder ceased, as the other woman turned to meet her lover with a dopey smile.

 "Hi honey. I love you." His face softened, and Barbara rolled her eyes.

 This was her cue to quietly get away if she didn't want to hear a mouthful later, yet as they said their soft greetings Alana didn't move from her spot at her side. Her skin burning now with inevitability.

 Barbara shook her head and that thought off her mind and instead decided to say goodbye on her own terms. She wouldn't give Alec the satisfaction.

 "Well. Guess I'll be going then." She stated, slowly bouncing off the wall to stand upright, grabbing Alana by the waist so neither of them would fall down by the inertia. A faint noooo came out of her mouth as she slightly wavered on her grasp, like a tree by the wind or some other colorful metaphor that she'd use in one of her books, before the extra height that separated them fell to meet her in a lazy departure hug while she nuzzled her neck.

 Laughing, Barbara wrapped her arms tightly around her friend, squeezing her for good measure, and then some more at the sight of her husband standing still on the threshold, waiting for his lover to finally say goodnight and come back into his loving arms. He'll have his time later, she thought, as she sank her face on the nook of her shoulder not quite ignoring but pointedly defying his gaze.

 In nights like this, Barbara almost wanted to be selfish. To snatch her up in the name of a concerned agent for the ever growing popularity of her star. It was a matter of business, nothing personal.

 And yet, when an idea sparked on her mind she was too drunk to pretend there was no ulterior motive behind it.

 Without dislodging herself from her thinner frame Barbara pulled away just enough to face her, cradling her head with a proud smile shinning through. Alana's eyes were so glassy, yet immediately lighted up at the gesture.

 "Hey, Bestseller, you did good today, you know, right?" Fingers affectionately running through her long hair made her friend hum, smile sliding as easily as hes eyes closed with content, until she finished with a chuckle. "Zero broken noses and I didn't have to call the lawyers once!"

 "Hey!"

 "Kidding, kidding."

 She chuckled again, before taking a breath. Biting her lip, she wondered. And without thinking about it too much -she swears- Barbara angled Alana's face a bit to plant a kiss on her warm cheek. Her friend's hands still idly wrapped around her waist pulled her closer as she heard her make a noise, between a content humming and a surprised giggle. Alana got affectionate and touchy-feely when smashed, couldn't Barbara be the same? Couldn't she kiss her cheek a second too long, her touch linger on her skin a moment too much?

 When she parted her cheeks were red, partly flushed because of the alcohol but mostly for the matching tacky lipstick mark she left on her wake, something burning on her chest that she refused to acknowledge most days but could easily distinguish as possessiveness in that moment.

 Oh, her best friend was so pretty, like that.

 Her best friend.

 Breathing in that picture Barbara smiled, fondness washing over her as her best friend beamed. She really loved seeing her happy.

 "Night, Al."

 "Night Barb..."

 Finally letting her go from her embrace, it was Alana who paused to look at her before looking at the window, ignoring the way Barbara locked eyes with a now beyond pissed off Alec behind her back as she called the elevator. She expected her to leave now, and instead she asked:

 "You sure you'll be okay, going home at this hour?"

 Barbara raised an eyebrow, lightly wondering what would the alternative be and trying not to enjoy Alec's reaction in the background.

 "Don't worry about me, Al. New York is not as bad as it is in your books, most of the time."

 As the elevator's door finally opened with a charming ding Barbara stepped inside with a last hand wave, a smug smile escaping her lips in private while hearing the remnants of conversation between her dear friend and her husband.

 "What the hell was that?"

 "What...? Oh. You know how Barb is."

 "I can't believe she'd just-"

 "Relax, that's what girls do"

 Oh, he really was fuming, wasn't he? Mirth filled her for a second as the voices faded away, giving room to the mechanical sound of the building followed by the roar of the city life, persistent even at the supposed death of night. Embarrassment would come later with a hangover, alongside hints of guilt for disturbing Alana's precarious marital situation further. She really disliked seeing Alana unhappy... and Alec, well, dealing with him after an argument was always a drag she tended to avoid.

 But for now, Barbara quickly fastened her scarf as the cold autumn wind hit her without the human warmth of her best friend at her side, the faint scent of her perfume the only reminder of her presence, as a goofy smile crept on her lips at the memory of that crimson kiss.

[loveenchantinggentlemencollector]

@comfortfoodcontent and @kylereadscomics did this first, so I thought it would be fun to think about what some of my favorite comics are. Here are some of my favorite single issues, stories, and runs:

Avengers by Kurt Busiek and George Perez - This was my first Avengers run, loved the characters and George Perez's amazing art, plus my favorite Ultron story, Ultron Unlimited.

DC vs. Marvel - I love crossovers like this, and as a kid, because my favorite character is the Flash, I was Team DC. The other fights were fun as well.

Detective Comics #627 - A reprint of Batman's first appearance in Detective Comics #27, plus updates of the story by different creative teams, including Marv Wolfman and Jim Aparo, and Alan Grant and Norm Breyfogle, showing how Batman has evolved over the years.

Superman for All Seasons - Possibly my favorite Superman story, showing Clark's early days and my favorite version of Superman, the guy with incredible power who just wants to help.

Green Lantern: Rebirth - The story that made me a Green Lantern fan, loved the big space opera action, the different ways the lanterns use their rings, and made Sinestro my favorite Green Lantern villain.

Incredible Hulk #377 - The first Hulk comic I read as a kid, loved the Peter David run, his examinations of Bruce Banner's character, and Professor Hulk was my favorite version of the Hulk.

Kingdom Come - One of my favorite DC stories, loved the commentary of traditional super heroics versus the grim and gritty 90s, and how those ideologies clash. Plus, Kingdom Come Superman's outfit is still epic.

Flash: The Return of Barry Allen - My favorite Flash story, loved seeing Wally West step out of Barry Allen's shadow, the start of the Flash Family, also solidified Eobard Thawne as my favorite Flash villain.

Starman by James Robinson, Tony Harris, Peter Snejbjerg, and others - A more recent addition for me, as I was always a JSA fan, but never read all of this run until recently. Loved the characters, especially Jack Knight and the Shade, the Golden Age history, the themes of legacy, the villains, and how the story reaches a satisfying conclusion.

Wolverine and the X-Men by Jason Aaron, Chris Bachalo, Nick Bradshaw, and others - I'm probably going to get some heat for this pick, but this was the book that got me back into X-Men post Morrison and Whedon. I read every issue as it came out, and it was so much fun, I liked the characters, the action, the villains, and Genesis is one of my favorite characters (love the idea of "what if Apocalypse, but Superman"). Plus, it has Wolverine and Storm as a couple, my OTP.

[lesbianalanwake]

Re: dark presence rehabilitation, I was wondering... like, what's the goal? (this is based on my personal understanding which might be wrong.)

overall its goal seems to be to escape the dark place? but at the same time it seems like it wants to turn the outside world into something similar to the dark place, a neverending nightmare fueled by people's subconscious. specifically Scratch seems like a bit of a megalomaniac (I will make the entire world worship Alan's (my) writing forever!) (so much fun, geez...) - but... what's the point of escaping then? Scratch himself says in AN smth along the lines of a drop of darkness being absolutely inconsequential in the dark place, but so noticeable and fun in our mostly light world.

so, my suggestion is that the dark presence can stay outside but it ?should limit itself to smaller horrors. spice of life. a nightmare here, a nightmare there. Cats 2 (2025).

FHGHSKGHS drip-feeding the Dark Presence with minor horror allowances to keep it happy. it can ruin Hollywood. for Barry's sake.

it depends on what the Dark Presence and the Dark Place actually are. that could go a couple of ways. I could not even begin to guess which direction. scattered thoughts:

I prefer an explanation like "x entity became corrupted" over anything "inherent." it is man who is evil.

I'm continually wondering if the Dark Presence is, or is part of, a greater entity that got lost/corrupted.

AW2 describes the Dark Place as a mirror. I think the place that we see and experience might only be a sliver - a cracked and corrupted shard, if you will, because it doesn't always produce only suffering and misery and madness. just most of the time. so maybe Presence and Place are both parts of some greater ocean that got metaphysically landlocked.

maybe the Dark Presence is some kind of spirit of the Dark Place, and corruption in one leads to corruption in the other. so where did it start, if they weren't always like that?

the green/red Polaris/Hiss color scheme is all over AW2. Scratch is red like the Hiss. why is the Dark Presence so similar to the Hiss. what does it FUCKING mean, Sam.

(I have been thinking "the Hiss wasn't originally Like That" since I first played Control. something something the Hiss being embodied in Dylan who wasn't originally Like That either. so that makes me wonder even more about the Dark Presence, when they share those similarities. I cannot stop thinking about the apparently dead world that Hedron et al. came from. about the implication that something is eating away at the Oldest House, that its roots are withering. about the apparently empty world of the Quarry and the City. about how empty and occasionally extraordinarily violent the Astral Plane is when we see how full of life and personality the Altered Items are and how many of them don't really mean harm. about what might have made the Dark Place like that. what the fuck is happening out there in the conceptual reality behind this reality.)

there is the possible implication that the Diver had some hand in creating Scratch? maybe? but that goes back to the question of what the Diver is - Zane, the light/Bright Presence, something else. and what the goal is there. who knows.

I've said this elsewhere but I think Scratch in AWAN is more like. a ghoulish sliver of the Dark Presence mimicking reality like Jagger does, a finger of a giant hand trying to manipulate things. whereas Scratch in AW2 is the Dark Presence more fully embodied and also lost in the sauce. and it has fucked up big time by trying to use Alan to escape, tying itself too closely to him, to the point that even its grand escape is distorted by details of Alan's life. I don't think Evil Deerfest is necessarily what it might have originally wanted, but rather a sign that Dark Presence and Alan have overlapped to the point that Alan is changing it. like it's stuck in the Scratch persona now. has put on a skin that it struggles to take off. (but that's just a game theor--)

like. maybe it wasn't always a rabid beast of an entity and the Dark Place wasn't always a nightmare hell world, or maybe it's always wanted to get out of the Dark Place and doesn't necessarily have roots there. but over time Dark Presence/Place have absorbed and reflected so much of whatever corruption is going on that now Presence/Place want to make a distorted fun house mirror out of everything.

except. now the Dark Presence is not solely mirroring and reflecting corruption and "darkness" anymore. it's starting to mirror Alan even after it jumps out of his body, and, like Dylan being the narrative focus of physical embodiment for the Hiss, Alan is a (relatively) normal person who has been trapped and isolated for a very long time, which does strange things to a person. Barbara was just a sweet woman who got very unlucky. maybe the Dark Presence used to be similar. Evil Deerfest is strangely bright. we've seen it change, a little bit. something is going on there.

so I would like to see something a little more nuanced than "killing the evil" or whatever. (especially when it was all that Jesse and Polaris could do just to shut the door on the Hiss. ain't no way it's that easy.)

[wondrouswendy]

For the Ask game: Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss.

32 and Alan x Alice

Wide Awake - A kiss to wake up for Alan/Alice.

Parliament Tower. 

The gold plated, art deco building towered above me, casting a foreboding shadow. 

How many times had I gone through this loop? Writing a scene with Casey’s reluctant help to pay the Dark Place its pound of flesh. Too many times. 

“Maybe this time it will be different, Wake,” Casey reassured. “Maybe this time, you’ll wake up.” 

I flashed him a solemn half-smile. Every time we followed this well-treaded path, I ended up here. Sometimes Casey would be at my side, sometimes the Dark Place took him from me as the price for my mistakes.

“I’ll try my best,” I told him, trying to convince myself as much as the universe.  

Rain began to fall in the square, hitting the concrete in soft pitter-patters. Casey grabbed my arm before letting me face my routine destiny. 

“Do more than try, Wake. Don’t let him get to her.” 

Scratch. The monster haunting Alice on the other side of the divide, pushing her further and further into despair. 

He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss for good luck to my forehead, and then he let me go. As I entered the building, I felt his eyes on the back of my head. I didn’t dare turn and look. I hardened my resolve and entered the elevator to ascend to our floor to reach our apartment. 

The numbers on the readout rose higher and higher. No matter how many times I had progressed through this ritual, I couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening—the mechanics of manifesting the building boggled my mind. Was Parliament Tower a place caught between two worlds? Was the veil more tenuous between the Dark Place and reality? 

The elevator door slid open. I crossed the threshold and immediately felt lighter. This time was different. Not a last chance to escape, but something… something different. My instinct told me I had just stumbled upon a rare opportunity. 

The entry to our apartment was well lit, even at night, and this time, there were no blinding flashes from countless cameras. 

I never fully understood what I was looking for as I padded silently through the apartment. Was I looking for some magical item which would transport me to reality? Or, my mind sometimes considered, was this stage of my journey meant to serve as punishment? 

Yet Alice’s apartment—it was hers alone now—did not show signs of decay and distress like previous times in my memory. The space felt more akin to a home. Warmer, bathed in lights. It reminded me of the well-lit room within the Bright Falls dam. There were no dishes piled in the sink, no clothes haphazardly strewn over the couch, nor empty takeout boxes. 

There was a slide projector, and it turned on as I entered the living area. A mixture of familiar places began to cycle—pictures of beautiful, picturesque landscapes, portraits of neighbors and new people, inanimate objects, and then… my breath caught in my throat. Pictures of Alice and I before Bright Falls. 

Photos of me in college. A rare handful of photos of Alice, taken by a clumsier, though no less admiring, hand—me. Then pictures of us, together. My proposal to Alice, when I had recruited Barry to snap a picture of us in the moment. Our wedding, with Alice in a white, lace dress. Photos from our honeymoon where we laughed and smiled and never considered how difficult our lives would become. The photo reel remained positive, serving as a reminder of our best moments. 

Standing in the beam of light, I realized the purpose of this loop. I would not be escaping, not this time. This venture served as a reminder of what I was writing for. This loop would lead to a different manner of salvation. 

Something pulled me away from the projector, an invisible hand leading me on. I let myself follow this silent heading and quickly understood where it led: our old bedroom. 

Light peaked through the bottom of the door. My hand hesitated on the knob. I knew I would find her on the other side. I knew I would see her at last, for however long I had left. There wouldn’t be time for much more than a stolen glance filled with my longing for her. 

I couldn’t waste another second. I turned the knob and stepped inside. 

Alice was asleep in our bed, the covers pulled around her. She was clutching a pillow, mine it seemed for there was one missing from the empty space beside her. She slept peacefully despite the heavy rings under her eyes, despite the grief and sorrow I had put her through. 

I sat on the edge of the bed beside her. Carefully, I reached out and pushed a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face, curling it behind her ear. She was as beautiful as the day I met her, somehow even more now. She still wore her wedding ring. She carried her love for me as a cross to bear, and as much as I wished she would free herself from this burden… I was also so grateful. She was reaching out for me as much as I was reaching for her. She had heard me call her name. 

I loved her. I could have spent this moment torturing myself with guilt and shame. I could have dropped to my knees and prayed at her altar for forgiveness, but I stayed at her side and watched her sleep. I would memorize her features, I would pin them to the board in my mind, I would think of her in my lowest moments. I would recall her strength, her tenacity, her diligence. 

If I could free myself from the Dark Place, I would never leave her side again. 

I could feel the Dark Presence tug at my mind. If an invisible, guiding light had brought me here, a darker, more insidious force now reminded me my visiting hours were over. Even as forlorn longing washed over me, I knew I would not be alone on the other side. I would do the steps again, I would return to her. 

I bent down and softly kissed her lips. A goodbye, a good morning. I’m sorry. I miss you so, so much. I love you. 

The darkness pressed on my mind, and as my eyes fell closed, hers opened. 

“Alan?” 

[bonkwosher]

What Characters I Will Write For

Heyo, I'm new as hell to Tumblr but I have been writing on Wattpad for years. Decided I might as well post on here considering how much I read here. If this post is weirdly formatted I'm sorry, I'm trying!

All X GN!Reader, I don't particularly like writing ships

Jurassic Park/World

Ian Malcolm ~ Jurassic Park/Lost World/Dominion

Nick Van Own ~ Jurassic Park Lost World

Franklin Web ~ Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom/Dominion

Alan Grant ~ Jurassic Park/3/Dominion

Wednesday/Addams Family (1991/1993)

Wednesday Addams ~ Wednesday

Rowan Laslow ~ Wednesday

Eugene Ottinger (Platonic) ~ Wednesday

Gomez Addams & Morticia Addams (Poly) ~ 1991/1993 Addams Family

Young!Gomez & Young!Morticia (Poly) [If you insist] ~ Wednesday

Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul

Gustavo Fring ~ BB & BCS

Jesse Pinkman ~ BB & BCS

Badger ~ BB

Lalo Salamanca ~ BCS

Nacho Varga ~ BCS

Lalo Salamanca & Nacho Varga (Poly) ~ BCS

Domingo ~BB & BCS

Howard Hamlin ~ BCS

Locke & Key

Tyler Locke

Rufus Whedon

Duncan Locke

Bode Locke (Platonic)

Scot Cavendish

Brooklyn Nine Nine

Captain Raymond Holt

Jake Peralta

Rosa Diaz

Charles Boyle

Terry Jeffords

Pedro Pascal Characters (As I watch more of his content)

Agent Whiskey ~ The Kingsman: Golden Circle

Joel Miller ~ The Last Of Us (Show)

Javier Peña ~ Narcos

Oberyn Martell ~ Game of Thrones

Assorted Random People (Usually bc it's one from each fandom)

Stu Macher ~ Scream

Stu Macher & Billy Loomis (Poly) ~ Scream

Dewey Riley ~ Scream/2/3/4/5

Benoit Blanc ~ Knives Out/Glass Onion

Ryan Ezahler & Dylan Lenivy (Poly) ~ The Quarry

Travis Hacket ~ The Quarry

Vander ~ Arcane

Albert Wesker ~ Resident Evil

Philly Bárzaga ~ Far Cry 6

Captain Cold/Leonard Snart (Wentworth Miller) ~ The Flash/DC Legends)

Barry Berkman ~ Barry

Other Characters! Feel free to request others (Especially if they are in fandoms I already write about)! I might do them, it really depends on the character. Don't be afraid to ask whether they're on the list or off!