Published author, fanfic writer, and someone who will always write simply because I love it.
This space is dedicated to my Duskwood and Moonvale fanfiction — the stories that pulled me back into writing and reminded me why I fell in love with creating in the first place. While I’m also a published writer outside of Tumblr, this blog is where I get to write freely, obsess over characters, explore ideas that won’t leave my head, and just have fun with storytelling again.
Here you’ll find post-Episode 10 fanfics, prompts, ongoing stories, and plenty of late-night inspiration turned into words.
Writing has become such a huge part of who I am, whether it’s professionally published work or self-indulgent fanfiction written at 2AM because a scene wouldn’t leave me alone. Both versions of writing matter to me equally.
Thank you for reading and supporting my little corner of the fandom ♡
Happy reading.
Eternal Love
Die For Me
Was It Worth It?
Was it Worth It?- Life Afterwards
A Part of Me
After Duskwood
Is This the End?
Is This the End?: Christmas edition oneshot
Invaded by the Past
Finding You, Again
Heaven Gates
Best For You
Internal Demons
The Famous Line
The Past Has Caught Up
My Forever
Life For Her
The Island
Butterflies
Bitter
Coffee Shop
The Bet
Not Again
Selfish in Love
Snowed In
Be That Girl- AU
His Peace
Make It Safe, Again
Forever and Always
Friends Turn Siblings
The Flower Stand
Your Daughter
Can I Keep You? (18+)
Checking Him (18+)
She Melted (18+)
⚠️Warning: Blood, physical violence, intention of rape
The evildoer doesn't believe my words and slaps me. Terrified, I feel the blood dripping down my delicate face. I keep insisting, "Sir, my Jake is a simple merchant," I begin to tremble with fear.
The thug calls another man and shouts, " this bitch won't confess, I am sure she is hiding something from us. "
I look around, looking for a way to escape, but I can't find it. I am definitely at the mercy of the criminals. I feel the hot tears streaming down my face.
At this instant, quite annoyed, the second criminal pulls my hair and slaps me again. Due to the force of the impact, I end up falling off the chair.
He leans over and threatens, "I think I'm going to enjoy taking Jake's girl virginity," he rips off my dresses as I defend myself, quite terrified. I try to protect myself with my fingernails and hit the criminal, who gets even angrier and tries to kiss me. His fetid tongue tries to run across my mouth. Scared, I bite down hard on his lips, which bleed profusely. I feel his disgusting blood on my lips and start to feel nauseous.
The other man, who appears to be the leader, pulls his accomplice away from me, saying, "I think we'd better wait a little while, if we leave her without food and drink, she will confess, otherwise we will be forced to torture the MC."
I breathe a sigh of relief, as I have managed to buy some time. However, the two thugs start kicking me, shouting "I think this will help you remember, dear."
Finally, the criminals retreat from the room and lock the door. I get up from the floor, bruised, and straighten my torn robes, I notice a trail of blood on the floor.
Even though I am weak, I walk around every corner of the dimly lit room to try to escape, but to no avail. The environment is quite inhospitable, dirty, but seems to be a fortress.
Feeling quite vulnerable, I start thinking about Jake. I have loved him since the first time I saw him, and I feel his love for me, especially in the moments when we kissed ardently. Last time, he was especially tender. He said that I was fascinating.
However, he has always been rather enigmatic. Several times when I asked him about his past, Jake kept his mouth shut. He said that when the time was right, he would tell me.
I lean against the wall, unsure of what my future holds while here. I rip off a piece of dresses that is already torn and wipe my face that feels covered in blood, unsure if it’s all mine. I fall to the floor unsure if Jake even knows where I am. If only I could have gotten him to talk about what he wasn't telling me. I could give the criminals what they want and get out of here.
However, he never told me. I don’t know if he didn’t trust me like I trusted him or he just didn’t want me to know. Until this moment, he never gave me a reason to doubt the life we have built these last two years, or the love we have shared, but how can I give them the information they want without betraying him. Instead of trying to figure out how to get out of this room since there is no way my mind wonders.
A year ago he asked me to be his forever, it was nothing short of amazing and I knew he had asked my father in advance. My parents adore this man for saving their business and their only daughter. He had pulled this simple gold band while down on one knee and I swear the whole town heard me scream yes in the middle of the square where we first saw eachother. However, now my mind wonders what he’s been hiding from me.
As my mind wanders to him now, I feel myself getting angry but I calm myself down because it won’t do any good sitting in here.
I wake up to a pounding headache and a horrible taste in my mouth. My eyes are still closed but as I open them I see I’m not home anymore. I’m laying on a cot and I see a bucket and a wooden chair. I’m so confused on where I am but all I hear is dripping water coming from outside. I remember waiting for him for our anniversary date but then I don’t remember much after that. This pounding headache probably isn’t helping my memory at all either.
You see, I met him two years ago. I was at a flower stand with the man I was supposed to marry, however he was trying to buy my least favorite flowers. I was heading to my favorite when he kept grabbing my hand. I am stubborn which is very unlady like and refused to let him buy the one’s he wanted simply because they were cheaper. However, I noticed this man standing in the shadows of the alleyway. He was keeping himself hidden from the crowd, or so he thought, but I noticed him. Something about him filled me with feelings I sure didn’t have for this other man. In that moment of staring at him the man pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around me.
You see, my family wasn’t doing well with the trade business my father had. This man’s family had made a deal with my father to help keep his business afloat if I married their son. When I met this man I was not a fan of his due to his reputation in this town for treating women like property, to him that is all I was.
As I looked back to the alleyway the man I saw before was gone and I felt my body being pulled in a different direction. I tried to stop him but he refused to listen. All of a sudden I see someone step between us and stop him.
“She wants to go somewhere else. Were you not taught to treat a woman with respect?” this man says. All I see is his back but he’s wearing the same as the man I saw in the alley and my heart I swear stops.
The memories of those following weeks flood me. He got in touch with my father and helped me in exchange for me not having to marry that man. He never told me about his past or what he did when he wasn’t helping my father with the trade business. However, I knew his name was Jake and he called me MC. He had a huge house in the town which helped my father understand that was able to take care of me if we went that path. It didn’t take long for those feelings from the market to come back, watching him with my father working and coming around as much as he could. He finally asked me to be his and I accepted because for the first time in my life, I wanted it with this man.
Him asking me was a year ago today. He had this plan for today but refused to tell me. I was waiting at my parents house alone for him when someone broke it and took me.
I’m laying on the bed hoping for him to save me soon when I hear someone come and unlock the door. I jump up and this man is standing there with a stew and water for me. He doesn’t say anything at the moment but puts it down on the chair. As he goes to leave someone else comes in.
“Look lady, all you have to do is tell us where that man in your life finds the secrets that he keeps and sells.” this unknown man states.
“I have no idea what you are talking about!” I yell. “He works the trade business is all I know” I start to cry because they must have me confused me with someone else.
I hear the man laugh “oh sweetheart, we know you're lying so this is going to be easier if you just tell us everything” he says as he grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the room. There is no point in fighting this man, I feel too weak already. He pulls me into a room and ties me to a chair. I look around and see different items for torture and I still think they have the wrong person.
The man turns to me and grabs my face, “Look MC, just tell us where Jake gets his secrets and who he sells them too.” My eyes might get wide and scared as I’m unable to say anything as the man knows my name and Jake’s name. “Acting like you don’t know his secrets isn’t going to help you because we will just get you to talk,” the man says, letting go of my face and turning away.
“Sir, I really have no idea what you are talking about. My Jake works the trade business. He doesn't find people’s secrets and sell them,” I cry out.
Raemae17 and diariodelissa chapters will be posted by me as the accounts are deleted or post removed
⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS during this whole collaboration : violence, blood, sexual acts, language, alcohol, prostitution, drugs, rape ( mxf, mxm), gaslighting, heavy violence, death, and intention of rape
We had met at the motel after the mine explosion. It should’ve been the moment everything finally worked out, but it wasn’t that simple. It was perfect in that painful, impossible way. She knew he wasn’t going to let her join him on the run. She was in the bathroom, staring at her reflection, trying to figure out a way to convince him, but it always ended the same way in her head. “I need to protect you. You joining me is putting you in more danger, MC.” She could still hear his voice like he was right outside the door—deep, steady, with that slight accent she could never forget. Black hair falling just a little into his face, those electric blue eyes that always saw too much. She had two choices: convince him… or let him go. And deep down, they both knew they couldn’t keep running forever without the FBI eventually catching up. They would find her too.
She opened the bathroom door and saw him at the desk, laptop open, focused like the world didn’t exist outside of whatever code he was breaking. His hoodie was off, gray sweatpants, fitted black shirt. He wasn’t overly bulky, but it was obvious he stayed in shape; life on the run demanded it. She could see the quiet strength in him, especially in the way his shoulders moved as he worked.
He felt her watching him before he even turned, and he already knew what she wanted. He already knew he couldn’t give it to her. Right now they were safe, or as safe as they ever got, but no one knew about her yet. How long would that last? It never lasted. He chose this life when he hacked those files, when he exposed what needed to be exposed. But she hadn’t chosen it. She could still walk away. She could still be free of his mess.
“Don’t even think about trying to join me, MC,” he said without fully turning. And there it was in her eyes when he looked at her; defeat, and something worse. Love that didn’t know where to go.
“But I love you, Jake,” she said as she stepped closer, like saying it softer might make it easier to survive. “Now that I found you… I don’t want to imagine a life without you.” She was close enough now that he could reach her, and he did, taking her left hand like he was memorizing it.
“Maybe ten years from now,” he said quietly, “we’ll meet again at a coffee shop down the road… and start over.”
“But what if we don’t?” she asked, her voice breaking as tears gathered in her eyes.
Even in his electric blue eyes, something cracked. He closed his laptop, stood up, and said, “I will always find you.”
He let go of her hand like it hurt and packed his bag too carefully, like if he slowed down he’d stay. He pulled on his hoodie and mask but left it down around his mouth for a moment longer, then stepped in, grabbed her hips, and pulled her close. The kiss wasn’t rushed or uncertain it was everything they didn’t have time for. When he pulled away, she kept her eyes closed for a second too long, like she could hold him there if she refused to look. But when she opened them, he was already gone. He paused at the door and looked back, and even through the mask she saw it he was crying too. Just one tear slipping down before he wiped it away. Then he walked out, away from her, away from everything they had become.
----10 years later----
Ten years later, he got free eventually. Five years ago, he made a deal with the FBI and now worked for them, chasing people like the man he used to be. He still looked for her in every case, every lead, every city, but there was nothing. All he had was her name and a trace of where she’d been during the search for Hannah. He reached out once, but Hannah said she hadn’t heard from her in years. Jessy had tried longer, but even that faded. Eventually MC just disappeared from everyone’s life, like she erased herself or like the world took her, and he didn’t know which hurt more.
He walked into a coffee shop on his way to work like he did most mornings. Same order, same routine, same table he always sat at before heading into another case. Phone already in his hand, reading messages about the day’s project when he saw her. A brunette with hazel eyes sitting at his usual table, typing like she belonged there. His breath caught so hard it almost hurt. No. It couldn’t be. But everything about her felt like her. Too much like her. She looked up suddenly and apologized, her voice the same softness, the same rhythm, and he had to blink like it would reset reality. Then the barista called out, “Coffee for MC!” and everything stopped.
She stood to grab it, and that’s when she saw him. Those electric blue eyes. That dark hair. Ten years collapsed into a single breath. She sat back down slowly but couldn’t stop looking at him, needing to know if it was really him. She stood again and walked over.
“Do you come here often?” she asked, trying to sound normal and failing just slightly.
“Every morning before work,” he said, smiling like his life wasn’t falling apart.
“I just moved here for my job. My neighbor said this place had the best coffee, so I decided to work here today instead of staying home. I’m MC.” She held out her hand, and he took it like the world wasn’t shaking underneath them.
“Best coffee around,” he said. “I come out of my way for it. I’m Jake. What do you do that lets you work anywhere?”
“I run my own business,” she said, smiling faintly. “Expanding here.”
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like a secret. “Don’t tell anyone, but I work for the FBI.”
That got a real laugh out of her, something light and familiar, but then it faded as she said, softer, “I loved a guy once I couldn’t talk about. Not sure I still can.” The air between them shifted instantly.
He didn’t hesitate. “You can, MC.”
The way he said her name pulled her eyes straight back to his. “Jake?” she whispered.
“It’s really me.” He reached for her hand again like neither of them trusted time anymore. “I will always find you.” The barista called his name again, and he had to go. She grabbed a napkin and wrote her number on it with shaking hands, adding let’s catch up. Then she returned to her seat, pretending to open her laptop while watching him from the corner of her eye.
When he came back with his coffee, he saw the napkin and smiled. A real smile this time. He looked at her once more before leaving. She had her headphones in, but she was watching him anyway. He walked past her table, paused just long enough to kiss her head soft, familiar, like no time had passed at all. Her eyes closed for a second, and when she opened them again, he was gone through the door. But this time, it didn’t feel like an ending. Ten years later, and somehow, they still found their way back to each other just like he said they would.
They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. But as darkness slowly pulls me under, all I see are memories of him. Not my childhood. Not the mistakes I made. Not even the births of our children. Just Jake.
Jake laughing as he spun me around our tiny kitchen at two in the morning because our favorite song came on. Jake holding our newborn daughter with tears in his electric blue eyes. Jake tangled in our sheets on lazy Sunday mornings, messy black hair falling into his face while he smiled at me like I was the only thing keeping his world together.
He died ten years ago, but my heart never learned how to survive without him. People told me I would move on eventually. That grief would fade. That someday I would find someone else. But there was never going to be anyone else. How could there be?
We met in the strangest way possible. I was just a random phone number his half-sister had given her boyfriend before she disappeared. He was a wanted hacker desperately trying to find her. I should have been terrified of him, but instead there was this pull between us from the very beginning. Something magnetic. Something impossible to explain no matter how hard we tried to ignore it.
By the time Hannah was finally found, we were already falling for each other. Meeting him in person only made it worse. One look at those bright blue eyes and that crooked grin, and I knew my life would never be the same.
And it wasn’t.
Jake became a free man and we built a life together piece by piece, full of chaos and love and late-night talks. We got married, had kids, and grew old together. Even after years together, he still kissed me like he was afraid I might disappear.
Then one rainy night, he never came home from work.
I still remember the sound that left my throat in the ICU when the doctor told me there was nothing more they could do. I remember clutching his hand while our children cried beside me. I remember begging him to stay.
But he slipped away anyway.
And he took half of me with him.
The light around me grows warmer now, brighter. The pain in my chest that has followed me for ten long years slowly begins to fade. For the first time since losing him, I feel whole again.
My feet carry me forward before I even realize where I am. Golden gates stretch high into the sky, glowing softly around me. And there he is.
Jake.
Standing just beyond the gates like he’s been waiting for me this entire time.
My breath catches as I stare at him. He looks exactly the same. Messy black hair falling into his face. Electric blue eyes full of warmth and love. Home.
I break into a run.
The second I reach him, his arms wrap around me and he lifts me effortlessly off the ground. I bury my face into his neck, sobbing as I cling to him while his hands hold me like he never wants to let go again.
I pull back just enough to look at him before crashing my lips against his. Everything around us disappears. Maybe it’s heaven. Maybe it’s simply him. Either way, the world stops the moment he touches me again.
When he finally sets me down, his forehead rests against mine. “Hi, my love,” Jake whispers softly.
A shaky laugh escapes me through my tears. “Hi, Jake.”
His fingers lace through mine like they were always meant to be there.
And together, hand in hand, we walk through heaven’s gates.
I always seem to make people sob with my oneshots. Going back through and editing to post everything it will only get worse cause I've gotten better with writing emotions.
They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. But as darkness slowly pulls me under, all I see are memories of him. Not my childhood. Not the mistakes I made. Not even the births of our children. Just Jake.
Jake laughing as he spun me around our tiny kitchen at two in the morning because our favorite song came on. Jake holding our newborn daughter with tears in his electric blue eyes. Jake tangled in our sheets on lazy Sunday mornings, messy black hair falling into his face while he smiled at me like I was the only thing keeping his world together.
He died ten years ago, but my heart never learned how to survive without him. People told me I would move on eventually. That grief would fade. That someday I would find someone else. But there was never going to be anyone else. How could there be?
We met in the strangest way possible. I was just a random phone number his half-sister had given her boyfriend before she disappeared. He was a wanted hacker desperately trying to find her. I should have been terrified of him, but instead there was this pull between us from the very beginning. Something magnetic. Something impossible to explain no matter how hard we tried to ignore it.
By the time Hannah was finally found, we were already falling for each other. Meeting him in person only made it worse. One look at those bright blue eyes and that crooked grin, and I knew my life would never be the same.
And it wasn’t.
Jake became a free man and we built a life together piece by piece, full of chaos and love and late-night talks. We got married, had kids, and grew old together. Even after years together, he still kissed me like he was afraid I might disappear.
Then one rainy night, he never came home from work.
I still remember the sound that left my throat in the ICU when the doctor told me there was nothing more they could do. I remember clutching his hand while our children cried beside me. I remember begging him to stay.
But he slipped away anyway.
And he took half of me with him.
The light around me grows warmer now, brighter. The pain in my chest that has followed me for ten long years slowly begins to fade. For the first time since losing him, I feel whole again.
My feet carry me forward before I even realize where I am. Golden gates stretch high into the sky, glowing softly around me. And there he is.
Jake.
Standing just beyond the gates like he’s been waiting for me this entire time.
My breath catches as I stare at him. He looks exactly the same. Messy black hair falling into his face. Electric blue eyes full of warmth and love. Home.
I break into a run.
The second I reach him, his arms wrap around me and he lifts me effortlessly off the ground. I bury my face into his neck, sobbing as I cling to him while his hands hold me like he never wants to let go again.
I pull back just enough to look at him before crashing my lips against his. Everything around us disappears. Maybe it’s heaven. Maybe it’s simply him. Either way, the world stops the moment he touches me again.
When he finally sets me down, his forehead rests against mine. “Hi, my love,” Jake whispers softly.
A shaky laugh escapes me through my tears. “Hi, Jake.”
His fingers lace through mine like they were always meant to be there.
And together, hand in hand, we walk through heaven’s gates.
6 stories still to pull. This is gonna be so worth it cause honestly going through I already see such a massive difference. Things were unfinished, missing details I would of now put in.
What from this list are you most excited for? Also will be reposting all the Trap of Lies even the deleted chapters from other writes while still giving them credit.
So I have been pulling all my old writing and deleting all my writing. I have come to realize I have a bunch of oneshots that I could continue even into short stories.
Would this be something anyone would be interested in? Keep in mind this isn't gonna be quick posts as I am reediting everything even from my very first Duskwood fanfic.
So I have made a decision. I am hiding and redoing everything here. Obviously Jake and Cecilia’s story will be removed but I am going to work on bringing back everything else after editing to how I write now.
You know that moment every writer has when you open an old draft and physically recoil. Like, oh my god, was I really proud of four years ago?
I just did that.
I opened the very first version of my thriller, the one I published years ago, then quietly took down because I was ashamed of it.
I went in ready to cringe, ready to laugh at how bad it was, ready to tear my past self apart like I’ve done so many times before.
But this time… I couldn’t.
Because suddenly I saw her.
That scared, hopeful girl who taught herself English through fanfiction, whose German tongue still tripped over every sentence, who had no idea what she was doing but poured her entire trembling heart into that story anyway.
She was so proud of it.
So proud.
Every criticism cut her like glass, but she kept writing. She showed up anyway.
And tonight, looking at her work, all I felt was this deep, aching tenderness in my chest.
God, I wanted to reach back through time and hug her. Tell her not to listen to the voices that said she wasn’t good enough. Because without that scared, hopeful, overly-emotional version of me… I wouldn’t exist now. I wouldn’t be rewriting it. I wouldn’t be any better at all.
So if you’re an author sitting there, scrolling through your old fics or old novels, biting your tongue at how “bad” they are…
Please. Be gentle.
That past version of you was so brave. They had nothing but passion and stubbornness and a dream, and they still dared to create. They took every criticism like a bruise and kept going anyway. They learned the ugly, painful way so you could be here now. Wiser, sharper, stronger.
They carried you on their back.
So instead of shame, give them pride. Instead of embarrassment, give them love.
Thank you for trying.
Thank you for bleeding.
Thank you for beginning when it would’ve been easier to stay silent.
I’m so proud of you, past you, present you, all of you.
You deserve softness, not shame.
And I promise, your old self would be proud of who you’ve become, too. 🧡
As an a now published author that started on fanfics, this hits home. Something that started here on this page has now turned into something the public sees. I struggled so hard publishing but it hss been the best thing in the world for me.
A/N: I started writing this one-shot before episode 3 came out and finally got around to finishing it. This is how I imagine things might have realistically unfolded after the fire in the mines with just a tiny sprinkle of delulu for fun. I also believe that Jake has allies somewhere who are ready to help whenever he needs it. 😌
Trigger warnings: Burning scars, injuries
POV: Jake
The sharp, chemical bite of medical alcohol clawed its way into his lungs before his eyes even opened. It mixed with the thicker, sweeter stench of iodine, old bandages, and something far worse… the unmistakable smell of charred skin and smoke that still clung to his own body like a second, rotting layer. Every shallow breath dragged that nightmare back into him.
He lay perfectly still for a long moment, trying to piece together where the hell he was. A thin mattress creaked under his weight. The air felt damp, slightly cool, like a basement that had been scrubbed too many times but never quite lost the rot. Outside the single narrow window, the sun was sinking low and bloody, painting the room in deep crimson that made the white walls look as if they were still dripping.
In the far corner, a single candle flickered on a metal tray. Its tiny flame danced, casting long, jittery shadows across the ceiling. The light caught in his blurred vision, and his pupils snapped wide.
Fire.
The word slammed into him like a physical blow. Suddenly, he wasn’t in this room anymore. He was back in the mines, the heat roaring down the tunnel, timber beams cracking and spitting sparks, Richy’s laughter echoing off the stone as the whole world turned orange and black.
Richy. The Man Without a Face. The confession. The flames swallowing everything.
MC.
His chest heaved. He tried to bolt upright, but the pain was instantaneous and merciless, a white-hot sheet of agony ripping across his left side, his shoulder, his face. It felt like someone had peeled his skin off and poured gasoline over raw muscle. A broken groan tore out of his throat, and he collapsed back against the thin pillow, gasping.
A gentle hand landed on his uninjured shoulder, warm and steady. Blonde curls brushed his cheek as the woman leaned in. Her voice was soft, practiced, the kind of voice people used when they were trying not to scare a wounded animal.
“Easy, mister. You’re safe now. You’re in the hospital.”
Hospital. The word sounded ridiculous even through the haze. This place smelled more like a back-alley butcher’s than any real medical ward.
“Wha—” His voice cracked, raw and scorched.
“God, stop lying to him,” a familiar male voice barked from the other side of the bed, laced with that same exasperated affection Jake had known for years. “If you call this shithole a hospital, I don’t even want to know what kind of places you’ve patched people up in before.”
Blake. His longest friend. The one person he’d trusted enough to send that desperate SOS to when the flames were licking at his heels.
“Blake…” Jake rasped. Speaking hurt. Everything hurt. But the name grounded him just enough.
“Yeah, buddy. You sent the SOS, and I came running like the idiot I am. What the hell were you thinking, going into those mines alone? After everything we talked about?”
Jake’s mind was already slipping past the question. One thought clawed its way to the front, louder than the pain, louder than the fear.
“MC…” The name slipped out like a prayer, weak and cracked and desperate. He could see her face so clearly, the worry in her eyes the last time they’d spoken, the way her messages had kept him going even when he knew he was walking into hell. She thought he was dead. She had to. The fire, the silence, the explosion… she was out there right now believing he’d burned with everything else.
He needed to message her. Right now. Tell her he was alive, that he was coming back, that the last thing he’d said, *I love you*, wasn’t a goodbye. He tried to lift his arm toward where his phone should have been, but the movement sent fresh fire racing down his nerves.
“Who’s that?” the woman asked gently, though there was a knowing edge in her tone now.
“That girl from Duskwood?” Blake supplied, quieter this time.
Jake managed the smallest nod. Even that tiny motion made the room tilt.
“Could you…” He coughed, the sound wet and ragged, like broken glass in his lungs. He lifted one trembling, bandaged hand toward the candle. The flame was still dancing, still taunting him. “Please. The fire… turn it off.”
The woman didn’t hesitate. She crossed the room in two quick steps and blew the candle out. The flame died with a soft hiss. Darkness swallowed the room, and for the first time since waking, Jake felt like he could actually pull air into his chest without screaming.
The relief lasted only seconds.
The door creaked open. Heavy footsteps crossed the threshold, and a new voice, deep, irritated, edged with reluctance, filled the small space.
“You know I’m risking my entire license for this, right? The FBI is tearing half the state apart looking for him. One wrong word and I’m done.”
Blake’s tone stayed flat, businesslike. “You’ll be paid enough to retire twice over. We’ve got the money. Just do your job.”
“I can’t believe I’m treating a wanted criminal in my off hours…”
“We’re the good ones here,” the blonde woman cut in, steel threading through her soft voice.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” the doctor muttered.
Jake felt gloved fingers, cool silicone, gently tilt his chin. The touch on his burned cheek was feather-light, but it still pulled a weak hiss from between his teeth. The doctor worked in silence for a long moment, examining, probing.
“Second- and third-degree burns over twenty-eight percent of the body,” he said at last, clinical and grim. “The left eye is at serious risk of permanent damage if we don’t move fast. We need to operate immediately.”
Jake’s heart hammered. He wanted to argue, to demand a phone, to beg them to let him send one message, but the sting of a needle slid into his arm before he could form the words. Cold spread through his veins like liquid shadow.
The last thing he clung to before the world dissolved into black was her name, repeating like a heartbeat inside his head.
MC… I’m still here. I’m coming back to you.
When he woke again, the room was cleaner, brighter, real daylight spilling across sterile white sheets instead of blood-red dusk. The pain had dulled to a heavy, constant throb, but it was still there, waiting.
“Ah, there you are,” Blake chuckled from the chair beside the bed, voice warm with relief. “Welcome back to the land of the living, hero.”
“Oh God… what the fuck happened?” Jake muttered, his voice still hoarse from smoke and sedation. His fingers trembled as they rose to his face, brushing over the thick medical patch covering his left eye. The skin around it felt tight, raw, foreign. Every inch of him ached with a deep, bone-weary pain that pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
Blake leaned back in the chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “You sent me that SOS literally seconds before the FBI swarmed the mine entrance. What the hell kind of shit did you get yourself into this time, man?”
Jake closed his good eye for a moment, the memories crashing back in fragments, flames roaring, Richy’s twisted confession, the desperate choice he’d made. “He wanted MC to come down into the mines. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let anything happen to her.”
Blake let out a low whistle. “She thinks you’re dead, Jake. I managed to mirror your phone before they shut everything down. I watched her messages. The FBI cut all internet and connections the second they realized you were still inside. Total blackout.”
“So MC can’t even talk to the others?” Jake breathed, the words scraping out like gravel.
“No. And she’s a complete mess.” Blake’s voice softened. “To top it all off, she’s already gotten dragged into some new case. Is this girl a detective or something?”
A weak, proud smile tugged at Jake’s cracked lips despite everything. “No… but she sure as hell could be one.”
He tried to sit up straighter, ignoring the way the burns on his torso screamed in protest. “Where’s my phone?”
Blake studied him for a long second, then sighed. “Since you’re clearly more worried about her than your own shredded body, here’s the surgery rundown: Your left eye is saved, barely. You might have uneven vision from now on; the doc couldn’t fix everything under these conditions. But you can see. The burns… those are staying with you for the rest of your life, man. Scars, discoloration, the works. Permanent reminder.”
Jake’s fingers brushed the bandaged patches on his neck and arm. For the rest of his life. A brand from the fire he’d willingly walked into, all to keep her safe. The thought should have terrified him. Instead, it felt almost… right.
“Thank you, Blake.”
“You’re welcome, idiot.” Blake gave him a tired grin. “Rest today. We move at dawn tomorrow. They’re getting too close.”
Jake nodded faintly. The moment Blake handed over the burner phone, his hands shook with urgency. Nymos had been working overtime; dozens of messages had tried to push through during the blackout. He opened the chat with MC and his chest tightened until it hurt worse than the burns.
Her messages were desperate. Fragmented. Sent hours apart, each one more broken than the last.
Jake? Please answer.
They said the mines are on fire. Tell me you got out.
I can’t lose you too.
Jake, I love you. Come back to me.
The last thing he had managed to send before everything went dark stared back at him:
“I love you MC.”
Her reply, sent minutes later while the flames were still raging:
“I love you too, Jake.”
Warmth, fragile and painful, bloomed in his chest. For a moment the burns, the FBI, the running… none of it mattered. He smiled through the sting in his face.
He had to see her. Had to know she was still breathing.
His fingers flew across the screen.
Jake: Hello, MC. Don't worry about me. I'm alive.
Delivery Error
Jake’s good eye burned. His chest felt too tight. He wanted to reach through the screen, pull her into his arms, whisper that he was alive, that he was coming for her. The guilt clawed at him worse than any burn.
“Is there any way we can stay in Duskwood?” he asked Blake hoarsely, never taking his eye off the chat.
Blake looked up from his laptop and shook his head. “Too risky. Way too risky.” He turned the screen so Jake could see their current location, and the cluster of moving red dots closing in from the north. “We need to put more distance between us and them.”
“Crap,” Jake cursed under his breath.
He barely remembered drifting off again, the burner still clutched in his bandaged hand, MC’s face burned behind his eyelids.
The next thing he knew, Blake was shaking him roughly.
“Jake, wake up! We’ve got five minutes. Fucking move your ass!”
Adrenaline flooded his system. Pain or no pain, he swung his legs off the bed. On shaky, unsteady feet they bolted out of the makeshift hospital, Blake supporting him as they sprinted toward the waiting car. Tires screeched as they sped off into the rising sun, leaving another safe house behind, and Jake’s heart somewhere back on those lonely country roads with her.
Weeks had passed since they fled to another state. Jake sat hunched over his laptop in yet another dingy motel room, the blue glow of the screen the only light cutting through the darkness. His fingers danced across the keys, layering encryption after encryption, bouncing his signal through half a dozen countries so no one could trace him.
He opened the messenger app, his custom program running silently in the background, keeping him hidden as offline. The unread messages hit him like knives.
MC: Jake please
MC: I beg you
MC: One message. That’s all I’m asking for.
Lily: Jake please message me
Lily: I refuse to believe you’re dead
Lily: You need to come back if not for me, then for MC
Lily: She’s at my place
Lily: She is an absolute mess. She barely eats, sleeps, or showers.
Lily: I miss you, big brother.
Big brother.
The words carved straight into his chest. Lily had never called him that lightly. Now it felt like a goodbye he didn’t deserve.
He had to see her. He pulled up the hacked traffic and security cameras around her town. The feed loaded, footage from a few days ago. And there she was.
MC.
She stood on the sidewalk outside her building, shoulders slumped like the weight of the world had finally crushed her. Her eyes, once bright and determined, were red and swollen from days of crying. Dark, bruise-like circles hung beneath them, carved deep by sleepless nights. Her hair was messy, unwashed, pulled back in a careless knot. She looked thinner, hollowed out, as if grief had eaten her from the inside. Every few seconds she glanced around the empty street with raw, desperate hope, the kind of look someone gives when they’re still waiting for a miracle they no longer believe will come.
Jake’s breath caught. God, MC… I’m so sorry.
She wiped her eyes roughly with the sleeve of her hoodie, before climbing into her car. The engine started. He switched camera feeds frantically, heart hammering against his ribs as he tracked her.
The highway. Her hands gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. She kept glancing at her phone in the passenger seat, as if willing it to light up with his name. Tears slipped down her cheeks at a red light; she didn’t even bother wiping them away anymore. Country roads blurred past under gray skies. Every mile she drove closer to Duskwood, the tension in her posture grew. She looked exhausted, haunted, terrified that she was driving back to the place where she’d lost him forever.
He stared at the green window that finally popped up, his location was masked. Safe, for now. Blake had split off again days ago; Jake was alone with his ghosts once more. With a deep breath, he disabled the cloaking program.
Jake is now online.
Lily: JAKE!!!
Lily: Let me get MC
His heart hammered. He took a sip of the cold, bitter coffee on the table and grimaced, but the taste barely registered. Minutes stretched. Then the typing indicator appeared.
MC: You’re alive! Are you okay?!
Jake: I had to hide. I almost didn’t make it out… but I’m fine now. Finally safe.
MC: You are really fine?
He smiled softly despite the ache in his burned cheek. She was always worried about him first.
Jake: I’m fine. I promise :)
The moment he hit send, his gaze dropped to his own hand, scarred, discolored, the skin tight and warped like melted wax. Fine. What a cruel lie. He caught his reflection in the dark window: the patchwork of burns across his face and neck, the patch still covering his left eye, the way his hoodie hid the worst of it. He looked like a monster from a nightmare. How could he ever let her see him like this?
MC: Can we meet some day?
His heartbeat stumbled violently.
Jake: No.
Jake: I had to move far away.
MC: I don’t care! I will get a plane ticket if I need to!
MC: Please Jake
MC: I need to see you. Touch you. Make sure you’re really here.
Jake: I will see what I can do.
MC: I love you, Jake.
The smile that broke across his face hurt every scar, but it was real. His heart screamed for her. Every cell in his body ached to hold her.
Maybe… just maybe she won’t run.
Jake: I love you too, MC.
Months later
The forest of Duskwood smelled exactly as he remembered, damp earth, pine, and faint traces of smoke that still haunted his nightmares. Jake paced back and forth in front of the old wooden bench, hood pulled low, hands shoved deep into his pockets. The FBI had lost his trail. They were starting from zero again. But none of that mattered right now.
He kept replaying the leaked footage in his mind: MC in that cold interrogation room, agents screaming at her, slamming fists on the table, threatening her with charges if she didn’t give them something on him. She had looked so small. So alone. And he had failed to protect her from any of it.
While he was healing in hidden rooms, she had walked through hell.
A branch snapped behind him.
Jake froze, every muscle locking. Footsteps. Soft at first, then faster, then hesitant, then faster again. His breath caught.
“Jake…?”
Her voice. Soft, trembling, like warm honey poured over every raw nerve in his body. It nearly undid him.
“Yes,” he answered, keeping his face turned away, hidden in the shadow of his hood.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
He shook his head, throat tight. She stepped closer. The sweet scent of her flowery perfume wrapped around him like a memory he didn’t deserve.
“Hey,” she whispered.
Her fingers gently slid under his chin. Electricity crackled across his skin. Goosebumps erupted down his arms. His heart slammed against his ribs so hard he thought she might hear it.
She tilted his face up.
Their eyes met.
MC’s widened. A sharp gasp escaped her. For one agonizing second she stared at the scars, the warped skin, the milky damage still visible in his left eye. Jake’s stomach dropped. He waited for the disgust. The recoil. The end.
She took a small step back.
There it is.
But then her hand returned, not pulling away, but reaching again. Her voice cracked with something deeper than shock.
“That’s my fault…” she whispered.
“What?!” The word tore out of him, rough and broken.
She pushed both hands through her hair, eyes glistening. “He wanted me to come down there. I should have gone instead—”
Guilt. Pure, crushing guilt etched across her beautiful face.
Jake’s heart shattered. “And instead you get burned? I would do it all over again!” he argued fiercely. “Every second. Every scar. I’d walk back into that fire if it kept you safe.”
“Stop!” She threw her hands up, tears spilling freely now. “You didn’t deserve this. None of it.”
Her palms came back to his face, both of them this time, cupping his scarred cheeks with a tenderness that made his knees weak. She didn’t flinch. Not once.
“I know I’m ugly and disgusting now and you can—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” she cut him off, voice fierce even through the tears.
“You can be honest if you stopped loving me like this—”
“Shut up.”
Before he could say another self-loathing word, she surged forward and kissed him.
Hard.
Her fingers slid into his hair, gripping the back of his head as if she was terrified he might vanish again. Her other hand cradled the burned side of his face like it was something precious. Her lips were warm, soft, desperate, pouring months of fear and longing into him.
Jake froze for half a heartbeat… then kissed her back like a man drowning. Butterflies exploded in his chest, wild and overwhelming. They smiled into the kiss, teeth bumping clumsily, soft laughter breaking between them, but neither pulled away. They only pressed closer, deeper, tasting salt from her tears and the faint bitterness of his own.
When they finally parted, foreheads still touching, she whispered the words he had feared most:
“Take me with you, Jake.”
“It’s too dangerous. You’d lose your life—”
“What life?” She smirked through the tears, that familiar fire sparking in her eyes.
“Family?" He asked.
"I prefer to call them my producers at this point.”
He raised an eyebrow. She smiled wider. “You’re not the only one with secrets.”
“Your job?”
“Fired weeks ago.”
“Your friends?”
“We were always online anyway. Why not continue the tradition?”
He let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “You always have an answer to everything, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” She kissed him again, slower this time, reverent.
“You deserve better than this fugitive life.”
“What’s better than you?” she asked simply. “The money I make barely covers rent. In a few months it’ll go up and I’ll probably end up on the street anyway.”
Jake sighed, resting his forehead against hers. The scars pulled tight, but her hands never left his face.
“Fine,” he whispered. “I’m safe… for now. But you need to understand what this life means.”
“It means a life with you, Jake. I don’t want any other one.”
He kissed her one last time, deep, slow, full of every unsaid promise, then laced their fingers together.
Hand in hand, they ran deeper into the forest, laughter mixing with breathless gasps as the trees swallowed them whole. They didn’t stop until they found an old, hidden hunter’s cabin tucked away from the world, their temporary shelter, their first real home in months.
Jake didn’t stop smiling the entire day.
Not when they stepped inside the dusty cabin and he finally allowed himself to pull her close without fear. Not when their jackets slipped to the floor and trembling fingers worked open buttons and zippers, revealing skin that had been hidden for far too long. Not when the cool night air brushed over his scarred body and he instinctively wanted to hide, only for MC to stop him with the gentlest touch.
She traced every burn mark with reverent fingertips, then followed them with her lips. Where the fire had once destroyed, her mouth now worshipped. Each kiss sent sparks dancing across his nerves, not pain, but something deeper, warmer, almost sacred. Her skin against his damaged flesh felt like forgiveness given physical form. Where he was rough and uneven, she was soft and warm, melting into him as if she had been made to fit exactly against every scar.
“Jake…” she whispered, his name rolling off her tongue like a prayer, like salvation.
He shivered at the sound. Every time she said it, slow, breathless, full of wonder, it cracked something open inside his chest. He felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with his scars and everything to do with how completely she accepted him. Her hands slid over his shoulders, down his back, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them. Her body melted against his, pliant and trusting, every curve pressing into him as though she needed to prove he was real.
He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in, that sweet floral scent mixed with salt from happy tears. His own hands explored her with aching gentleness, afraid to press too hard, afraid this moment might vanish like so many dreams before. But she only held him tighter, whispering his name again and again between soft kisses, each utterance healing another fractured piece of his soul.
In the quiet glow of moonlight filtering through the old windows, they moved together, slow, reverent, full of months of fear and longing finally given release. Every touch was a promise. Every sigh, every shared breath, every time she gasped his name like it was the only word that mattered… it told him he was wanted. Loved. Enough.
Even like this, broken, burned, still running, he was enough for her.
When they finally lay tangled together under a shared blanket, skin warm and hearts racing in sync, Jake pressed one last kiss to her forehead and held her like she was the only safe thing left in his world.
Maybe he was selfish for taking her with him.
But as she curled closer, whispering “I love you, Jake” against his scarred chest, he knew he would never let her go again.
