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lil-frenchfri77 · 2 months ago

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Begin Again

Summary: Ever since Bella came back to Forks things between y/n and her boys have been different. Embry and Quil stopped answering phone calls and texts, they’ve even been avoiding her everytime she shows up at their house. So y/n does the only thing she can think to do, she latches onto Jacob just like Bella, and when he starts acting like Embry and Quil did, she makes the decision to not put so much effort into a friendship that is clearly one sided. But what happens one day when Sam’s pack is in town at the same time as y/n and her new friends and two certain boys imprint on their former best friend? And what happens when a former best friend doesn’t feel the same way?

Author’s Note: Hello to everyone that is reading this! This is my first ever time writing a fanfic, so (if you’re reading this) go easy on me. I would love to hear any feedback anyone might have in the comments. Super excited to be writing this Twilight fic, I’ve been inspired by others authors on here to take my own spin with Stephaine Myers characters, none of which I have any ownership to. This doesn’t really follow the Eclipse movie timeline, I'm making things up and stretching the timeline. So this is basically my own story just using Stephanie’s characters and some of her themes. There are also some other characters in here that I don’t have any rights to, I just thought it would be fun to put them in this story. I don’t know how long or short this is going to be, I might be able to get my ideas across quickly or this might turn into a few chapters. If you’ve read this far I love you and I really hope you like this!

(Also not beta read cause I can’t afford that)(Dividers from @enchanthings here on Tumblr)

Y/n/n means your nickname

Embry Call x Fem!Swan!Reader x Quil Ateara

Slight Stiles Stlinski x Reader

Chapter 1 | Master list | Chapter 2

Things had been weird lately, with Bella back in Forks, the Cullens, and your friends on the reservation. It seemed like everyday more and more of your friends were leaving to go hang out with Sam Uley and his pack of assholes. Now it was just down to you, Embry, Quil, and Jacob. It’s not like you’re not fine with that, Embry and Quil were your best friends ever. So you were fine with just the four of you hanging out all the time. But they got so hostile of you whenever Edward or one of his siblings came around to talk to you or Bella.

It was getting absolutely exhausting trying to mediate things between them. You didn’t want to have to choose between your boys or Bella, but if it came down to it, your choice would always be your family and by extension, the Cullens. Although it seemed like you wouldn’t be getting a choice anyways when Embry and Quil stopped answering your texts and calls. They were never home when you came to visit and see what was happening to them. You had even tried asking Jacob if he knew anything but he swore up and down that he had no idea.

You never expected to see them hanging out with Sam and his pack, jumping off that stupid cliff. You had never felt more betrayed. They could do whatever they wanted to but it hurt that they felt the need to drop you, without any kind of explanation and go hang out with the few people (at least you thought) you mutually disliked. It was obvious that they weren’t going to talk to you anymore so you did the only thing you could think of, you left them one last voicemail in hopes to get through to them.

“Hey, it’s me. Um, I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I still miss you guys. I saw you the other day, hanging out with Sam and his boys. It’s fine, I guess. I just thought that we were better friends than that. I mean, we’ve been inseparable since we were 6 but that’s not really the point of why I called.” You took a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from rambling some more. “I don’t really understand why you started hanging out with Sam but you have free will so I can’t stop you. But I miss you guys, and I still want to be friends. I don’t want to permanently lose you both because I can’t get over this petty dislike I have. So, call me back. Please. I want to talk about everything, but if you truly want nothing to do with me anymore then I won’t bother you again. This is goodbye, then.”

2 months later

Life wasn’t the easiest thing anymore. The boys never called you back, which you expected but it still stung. You still had Jacob, but it wasn’t the same. Jacob knew how much Embry and Quil’s choice had affected you, but there wasn’t much he could do to help you. He couldn’t just tell you that they were werewolves. So he did his best to try and raise your spirits. You were wholeheartedly grateful you had him during this time.

Bella wasn’t much help either, she had just been broken up with and she was rotting away in her room. It appeared as though life was hating the Swan girls right now. As much as you wanted to wallow in your own pity you knew you had to be there for Bella. It’s not like the kids from school were going to help her, and honestly Bella wouldn’t want them to. So you spent months trying to help Bella, you didn’t want to lose your sister too.

“Please, Bells. Just talk to me, tell me what’s going on in your head. I’ll do anything to help you, you just have to tell me. Tell me what I can do for you, I want to take all this pain away. I know this isn’t about me or dad but we’re so scared for you Bells. We love you so much.” You plead with her. Tears welled up in your eyes when she turned away from you and went back to looking out of her window. You walked out of her room before she could see or hear you start to cry.

“Whoa, slow down there kid. What’s happening?” Charlie stopped you in the hallway. His hands gripped your shoulders as they shook with silent sobs.

“I can’t watch her wither away like that dad. She’s changing so much, and I don’t know how to help her. I hate Edward for what he’s putting her through and he’s not even here.” You spoke through your tears. Hiccuping in between every breath you took.

“Y/n,” Charlie whispered, cupping your cheeks and making you look up at him, “We will get her through all of this okay kid? You and me will bring our Bella back. I know it.” He assured you as genuinely as he could. Truth be told, he had no idea if he would be able to get his daughters back to the girls they were before all this happened. He was grateful that you seemed to be okay so soon after the Embry and Quil situation. He didn’t know what he would do if both of his kids were nervous wrecks he couldn’t console.

You nodded at him instead of answering back. You knew he was just trying to make you feel better. As much as you wanted to stay and keep trying with Bella you had to go to school. You couldn’t miss any more days this week or you would fall too far behind.

After getting dressed you head downstairs where you say goodbye to your dad and meet Jacob who’s waiting for you outside. Lately he has taken to riding with you to school and then walking back to the reservation afterwards so you weren’t alone in the mornings. It was also a way for him to keep an eye on you and Bella.

“You know, you don’t have to keep doing this Jake, I’m perfectly okay with getting to school by myself.” You told him today. It has been on your mind for a little while now.

“I know,” he chuckles, “but I like to. Sometimes I don’t want to be alone in the morning so I make you suffer and force my presence on you. You’re going to have to get used to it.” Jacob simply shrugged.

You get quiet after that and it worries him, but before he can ask you what’s wrong you beat him to it

“If you ever want to be friends with Sam and everyone else, please don’t cut me off too. I don’t think I could handle that.” Your hands grip the steering wheel tighter as you pull up to a red light. You can’t bring yourself to look over at him, as you not so patiently wait for his answer.

“Y/n/n, I will never abandon you to be friends with Sam and his pack of douchebags. Okay? It's you and me against the world now.” He says in such a loving tone that it brings tears to your eyes for the second time that day. “Oh god, please don’t cry. I totally didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Watching him panic while he tries to get you to stop crying does the trick, and you start to giggle at him. The rest of the drive to your school is silent with the occasional sing along moment to whatever is playing on the radio. When you finally arrive at school you're in a much better mood.

You say goodbye to Jacob and head into the building, putting on your headphones and turning the volume all the way up. Someone knocks into you from the side sending your phone and headphones sliding across the floor.

“Oh my god. I’m so freaking sorry!” Apologizes spill from the mystery boy's mouth as his friend, the one who pushed him into you, hurries to gather your things. He turns around to his friend on the floor and hisses out “Dude. What the hell??”

It wasn’t surprising that you had to clue who these boys were. When you were friends with Embry and Quil you didn't really talk to the people you go to school with. “It’s fine.” You shrugged it off, not wanting to create a problem with these two.

“No, its not fine. I totally didn't mean to smash into you. Scott’s just an asshole.” The boy throws his friend, Scott, under the bus. “I’m Stiles by the way.”

“I didn't mean to push him into you miss, I didn't even see you there.” Scott pipes in, before quickly realizing what he said. “OH! I didn't mean I didn't see you at all, like you're just hard to see. Cause you’re not hard to miss. Not that you're always in the way! I've never seen you before so… I'm going to stop talking now.” Scott sheepishly tugs at the collar of his shirt. He seems to be sweating now. The incredulous look on your face seems to shut him up well enough for his friend, Stiles, to get a word in.

“Wow dude, that was bad.” He’s trying to hold back his laughter now. “I think what he's trying to say is that he was so preoccupied with being an asshat that he wasn't paying attention to our surroundings.” Stiles says it a lot more eloquently than Scott had and it makes you giggle.

They both stare at you like you've grown a second head. “That was the worst apology I have ever heard in my entire life.” You state after getting ahold of your laughter. “I’m y/n. I accept your terrible apology, and it's okay that you haven't seen me around before, because to be honest. I've never seen either of you around before either.”

They let out a breath of relief and apologize one more time, sounding more coherent and sincere this go around. Scott proceeds to ask you what you have for the first period and surprisingly you have the same class as them, so you all walk to your class talking and getting to know each other. When you get to class you part ways to your seats with plans to meet after class.

Your class schedules were pretty similar, especially yours and Stiles. In the classes you and Stiles shared you decided to move seats and sit next to each other, getting in trouble a few times for talking too much. You were getting along with him so well that he invited you to sit with him and his friends at lunch. And since you didn't have any other plans you took him up on his offer.

When lunch time rolls around Stiles follows you to your locker where you get your food before heading to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. The table quiets down when the two of you approach. “Y/n these are my friends: Lydia, Allison, Issac, Liam, Malia, Kira, and you've already met Scott.” One by one his friends say hello and introduce themselves to you. This wasn’t at all how you thought it was going to go. You assumed that they would only give you a cursory hi and go back to their conversations, but they seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you.

#twilight #twilight x reader #twilight x y/n #twilight saga #twilight imagine #the cullens #bella swan #embry call x reader #embry call imagine #quil ateara x reader #quil ateara imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #first post #I'm super nervous about this so go easy on me

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howellatme-writes · 11 months ago

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Tomb Buster

Steven Grant x gn!reader, hints of Marc Spector gn!reader

Summary:

You returned from a trip abroad and are trying to get the spare key back to the apartment from Steven. However, you are unable to catch either of the boys due to their busy schedule, and you start to wonder if they are ignoring you.

Themes and warnings: Neighbors, Neighbors to lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hints of abuse, not beta-read, no use of y/n, gender-neutral reader (If I missed any warnings pls, let me know, and I'll add!)

Made for Moon Knight-cember Day 17/18: Rainy Day and/or VHS tape

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Notes: First fic on my new writer's blog! I probably won't post very often, but I thought it would be nice to have a spot for my fics on Tumblr! Also, the first time I tried to specifically stay gender neutral with the reader, if I missed any pronouns, feel free to let me know!

It had been a few days since you returned from the trip abroad, and you still couldn’t catch Steven to get the spare key back to your apartment. His schedule was often the opposite of yours, and every time, you just continued to miss each other by mere minutes to and from the system’s various jobs. The responses to your texts to meet up the past few days were from Marc. They were short and avoidant, unlike the flirty, flowery texts Steven would send you featuring selfies with the plants he had watered for that day.

One night, Steven initiated a late-night video chat, trying to cheer you up after a difficult night with your parents and co-workers. Then you realized the neighbor across the hall might have liked you more than you thought. His tired smile while he lay in bed at 2 in the morning, the freshly showered curls he brushed out of his face while he consoled you and let you vent about your issues made you realize you liked him back just as much. He told you about his boss, Donna, while you told him about your equally horrible boss while you’re stationed across the pond for work. Towards the end of your trip, you were starting to miss your home away from home more than you enjoyed being in your hometown, and it desperately showed in another Facetime call.

Marc started fronting the last few nights before you flew home, and the conversations were short. There were no selfies with your plants. He would just text, “Watering is done.” or “This cat’s shits are the worst thing I ever smelled.” Steven didn’t front as much, but his presence was still there. He even added googly eyes to the potted plants just to make you smile and laugh. Marc had sent you a phone with the caption, “I guess Steven snuck in when I thought I was asleep.” By the time you boarded your flight back to London, you were yearning to talk to Steven again, but it didn’t seem like you had that connection with Mark.

It was a rainy day, and you had just taken some of your propagated spider plants and potted them in some small terracotta pots when you checked your phone once again to see when you could meet up with Steven or Marc to get your spare key back. Nothing. You sat on the couch, placed the little spider plants on the coffee table, and leaned your elbows on your knees, your hand holding your chin as you huffed out a sigh, looking aimlessly around your apartment. If they weren’t interested, they would at least give you your key back, right? Hell, even just slide it under your door and never speak to you again. That was an option, too, right? Why are the boys stalling?

You reached to the sheet of googly eyes left by Steven and placed two eyes on each side of the plants’ pots. You couldn’t help but chuckle, and you decided to take it to the next level by reaching to grab a Sharpie to draw mouths to accompany each pair of eyes. On one side of the pot, a sad face with a tear, the other a smiley face. You did that with two of the pots, turning the sad faces towards you. You study them and pull out your phone, taking a picture of the tragic little spider plants, turn the pots, and repeat with the other side. Feeling mischievous and opening the texts, scrolling down to find their number, you attach the picture of the sad pots with the caption: “The plants miss you.” and hit send, waiting for his reaction.

After a few hours of sound sleep, you gradually become aware of a faint buzzing sound. As you start to stir and open your eyes, you realize your phone is on the table next to you, vibrating with incoming messages. You stretch your arms and legs, feeling your cat's weight on your chest and the warmth of its fur against your skin. Slowly, you sit up on the couch, blinking and yawning before picking up your phone. You squint at the screen, adjusting to the brightness, and see that two new texts are waiting for you. Your heart skips a beat as you realize they're from Steven, the person you've been waiting to hear back from. As you unlock your phone, your cat moves to the opposite end of the couch and curls up, seemingly undisturbed by your sudden movement.

“We should turn those plants' frowns upside down! -S” sent the text at 6:00 pm.

“???”- Was the last text sent at 9:00 pm.

The clock on the wall showed 9:52 PM, and you let out a deep sigh. You walked up to the window and glanced outside, only to see that it was pitch black and raining heavily. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, as you knew that you had probably missed meeting up with the boys again. You knew that Marc often picked up late-night shifts, but he never told you what he did.

With a tiny sliver of hope, you slide your phone into your pocket and pick up the two plants you had meant to give Steven. You stepped into some comfy slippers, went to his apartment across the hall, and knocked on the door, hoping he was home.

“Just a moment!” Steven calls, and you smile, feeling your heart start to race. After weeks of texting back and forth, you finally get to see him in person. After hearing several locks hurriedly being undone, Steven swings the door open to greet you, “Evenin’ Looking to get your spare key back?” breathing heavily, messy, damp curls in his face with an awkward smile and wrinkled brow. “Oh, you brought plants over?” he looked down at the two small plants with sad faces facing him.

“To be fair, they missed you. Look at them!” You try and smile. “I thought you might like them. A little extra thank you for caring for my cat and plants..”

“Oh. Oh! Thank you!” Steven said wide-eyed, “You can come on in if you like. I think Marc left your key by the fridge.” he gestured, letting you inside.

You step inside and kick your slippers off, looking around in awe at the sheer number of books. You could tell he had a lot of books from the video chats, but the amount of books covering the bookcases and every surface in his flat was beyond your imagination, “Wow… you have your books, I have my plants.”

“I’m not bothering you boys or anything, am I?” you ask distantly. Despite the clutter, the flat just had this cozy feel, like you’d want to sit on a couch and curl up with Steven, blankets, tea, and a book.

“Ahhh yeah. Usually, I do a lot of reading when I can’t sleep.” Steven confessed sheepishly, rubbing his neck, “Would you like a cuppa or anything?” He asked from his tiny kitchen, already grabbing two cups from the cupboard.

“Yeah, sure,” you say, studying the makeshift furniture before you. A wooden top balancing upon half an end table and a sawhorse, with a small desk lamp on the left side, formed the kitchen table. Papers, maps, dirty dishes, and a magnifying glass lay on the table with other small tchotchkes. You walked past it to take in the rest of Marc and Steven’s flat, realizing it probably wasn’t the safest, sturdiest place for his first two plants.

“No. No!” Steven said quickly, “Not sure what Marc was doing before, but judging from the wet hair, probably a shower or somethin’.” Steven suggested offhandly as he put the kettle on.

Steven comes after you and grabs the plants from you, not noticing the hat or gloves. “Sorry about the mess. I’d blame Marc, but he’s always nagging at me to clean. Just never thought we’d have company.” He scurries around as if trying to find a spot to put them. Eventually, he settles, puts the plants on a small coffee table, and rushes to clear the couch of cardboard boxes before gesturing for you to sit down.

You walk further into the flat to see his desk against the skylight. It was still just as cluttered as the makeshift table, but at least the desk didn’t look like it would break with adding a plant or two, but space would have to be made for them. You shuffled around, and your foot bumped into something wet, a newsboy hat and leather gloves tucked under the desk, presumably damp from the rain.

You sit down on the worn leather couch and smile at him, moving one of the open boxes into your lap, just happy he was shifting all this stuff around to make space for you in the apartment, “It’s no problem, really. I was the one that just knocked on your door, no warning.”

“To be fair, Marc should’ve spent the last little bit sorting the place out instead of doing whatever he was doin'. Taking a shower, maybe; everything feels a little damp’,” Steven murmured as he sat on the couch. “ I-I was hoping you would come over, though,” he said, interlocking his own fingers together, not sure what to do with them, before just setting them down on his thighs.

“It’s fine. Really.” you try to reassure Steven, scooting closer to him on the couch, holding the box to your chest. “My apartment was totally deep-cleaned before I left. It’s usually not that clean, a little more cluttered.”

“Oh, yeah? Feel a bit better ‘bout this then.” Steven gestured to his organized chaos of the hastily moved boxes around the both of you.

You move a bit closer to him again under the guise of setting the box by your feet, “How was the flight? Still got any jet lag?” he quietly asks as you set the box down, and a well-worn VHS cover catches your eye, not even recognizing he was trying to make small talk.

You lean forward and pick the VHS up, “What's this relic of the past doing here?” I flip it over and read the title out loud, trying to tease him light-heartedly. “Tomb Buster? Huh. What sort of Off-brand Indiana Jones, B- movie, is this?” you chuckle, holding it up to Steven to show him without looking at the cover.

Steven froze like you had just found something extremely private and personal. “Well…uh-um-” his mouth open and shut, repeatedly struggling to find the words to say. Your brow furrows in confusion, wondering why the movie created such a reaction. He looks at his reflection on the TV in shock.

You turn the VHS tape around and look at the cover more closely. Moving your thumb, you quietly read the wording at the bottom of the VHS tape, “When danger is near, Steven Grant has no fear?”

Steven darted nervously from the TV fearfully back to you, and he gulped audibly, speaking in a bit of a shaky voice “It’s one of Marc’s all-time favorite movies as a kid. It’s important to him, and he says he’s offended you called it ‘off-brand Indiana Jones.’”

“Oh.” You look back at the TV but don’t see what Steven sees. You spy the VHS player next to the Blu-ray, both covered in a thin layer of dust. “Have you ever seen it?” you ponder curiously.

Steven heaves a heavy sigh and takes the VHS tape from your hands, his warm fingers lingering on top of your own before placing the tape aside, “No. I haven’t.” he confessed quietly, looking up at you with sorrowful eyes. “Don’t think I’ll live up to my namesake.”

“Steven?” your hands reach out to grasp his again, feeling them tremble slightly. You rub the back of his hands with your thumbs, hoping to ease his anxiety.

“I’m not- I’m just something that Marc made up,” he whispered, ashamed, looking down at the VHS tape, “I found out when I saw- the movie poster one day. In his childhood bedroom.” He seemed to zone out for a moment, but when the kettle started whistling, it was like he had jumped out of his skin. He got up without a word, walking quickly to the stove as if thankful for the out in the conversation.

Steven sniffed as he grabbed a tin of tea bags from the cupboard trying to change the subject, “English Breakfast? Chamomile? I have lots. Take your pic.”

You felt awful as you stared down at the VHS tape. Dr. Steven Grant looked back at you as if judging you harshly. The plants' faces that felt comical mimicked the sadness of the heavy topic in the air. It never crossed your mind to ask who was the original and who was the alter. Part of you assumed it was Steven because you saw him the most between the two boys.

You slowly get up from the couch, follow him into the kitchen, and boldly wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. Steven freezes again, avoiding your gaze, “Chai. I don’t care which one of you is original.” you murmur, resting your head against his shoulder as he slowly prepares his tea. You sighed, your breath on his neck making his hair stand on end, your lips almost brushing against his neck. “Our texts, the late-night Facetime, they were real, right? I always looked forward to your texts. There was something real between us, right?”

Steven nodded as he reached out to pick up the chai tea packet and tore it open. He then dunked the tea bag into the water for you. You tried to catch his gaze as you leaned against the counter to gauge his reaction. He seemed lost in thought, rocking against the countertop and staring straight into space. Finally, he looked at you and began pouring out his emotions. "But I'm not real!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking. "How could you be happy with us? Marc said you'd be daft to care about someone as bonkers as us. He doesn't know why I told you about us in the first place. He thinks we should keep our distance..."

“Steven! Marc!” you exclaim, trying to break his downward spiral, physically turning him into you, your hands grabbing his arms, almost wanting to shake some sense into him “I don’t care! I do care! I mean-”

His lips crash on yours, and before you know it, your hands find his curls, still a little wet from earlier, and he’s leaning against you, his hands on either side of you on the counter. As your cheeks touch, you can feel the tears that spilled down his, dampening your own. As you feel him suck your lower lip, he moves his hands to your hips. After a second, he pulls back, his face tinted with blush, apologizing profusely, “Sorry-I-shouldn’t have- I never- Not like this-”

“It’s okay. It’s more than okay.” I smile, caressing his cheek before kissing him again softly, trying to convey how much you care while your lips move against his.

“We should have a sit-down, yeah?” Steven asked quietly after a minute. You grabbed your mugs and moved back to the couch to sit. Steven takes a bit sip of his tea before setting it down on the coffee table. “I didn’t realize I was created to help Marc until very recently-” he began, and you reached out and rested your hand over his. “The way I found out wasn’t ideal. It was actually pretty traumatic.” He looked over at his reflection on the TV, pausing the conversation as your heart raced.

“Is Marc saying something?” you question

“It’s like we can see and hear each other in reflections sometimes. I don’t know how it works, but it does.” Steven comments, still looking at the black TV screen, before turning to meet your gaze again, “You know we have D.I.D, but I never told you why-”

“Oh Steven, it’s okay, I don’t need to…,” you try to say, squeezing his hand as you set my mug of tea down by the VHS tape. Steven’s guard came down with a small sigh of relief. “Steven, you or Marc can tell me when you’re ready. It doesn’t need to be tonight. We can just hang out or something.”

“Thank you.” Steven smiled earnestly. He looked back down at Tomb Busters and grabbed the tape, “Marc says we need to watch this ‘cinematic masterpiece’ before we trash talk it.”

He looked at the back of the VHS, reading the synopsis. “Here, you’ll find archaeologist Grant up to his neck in danger and -spiders- up to his kneecaps in crawling arachnids. Steven hates spiders!!” he hums and nods in agreement. “He hates Nazis, too, and he’ll stop at nothing to keep those goose-stepping goons from obtaining the mystical statue of Coyolxauhqui.”

“Sounds like Indiana, but he hates snakes.”

It takes a minute to set it up, but Tomb Buster is playing on the TV as you snuggle into Steven under a blanket. It was almost like Marc and Steven were watching the movie with you. Steven repeated Marc’s commentary as the film went on, and much to your enjoyment, Marc even confessed that the movie was indeed a lot cheesier now that he was watching it as an adult. You were surprised Marc didn’t front to watch it himself, but it seemed like he wanted Steven to have some sort of positive experience with his namesake on the tv.

It was easy to pick up on some of the mannerisms that belonged to both the Steven on screen, and the Steven that gradually shifted to holding you as the movie continued. You would give his hand a slight squeeze or kiss his cheek when something was recognized, hoping it wasn’t too much of a challenging experience to see Marc’s muse for Steven on screen, but if it was, he never lot on. The movie concluded with a hint of a sequel, but after a quick internet search, you find the sequel never made it past the writer’s room.

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a Bee. My name is Steven with a V.” Steven sighed, disappointed when the movie finished. “I thought I came up with that.”

“When did you say that?” you ask, looking up at him.

“A while ago.” he spoke, gazing at you tenderly, “Watching Dr. Grant was odd, but it wasn’t as weird as I thought it would be. Thank you for watching it with us.”

You smile at him and sit up, glancing at the clock on your phone. It was nearly midnight. “Do you have work in the morning?” I asked quietly

Steven shrugs it off, “Yeah, but I don’t sleep much, remember? I’d Facetime you until 2 am at least.”

“I remember. Seeing you lay in bed, I couldn’t help but think your chest would make a good pillow.” you admit, feeling your cheeks heat up at the confession, “and I was right.”

Steven's face flushed with a tinge of pink as he leaned forward and whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. "Can I kiss you again?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. You nodded, leaning towards him, but he suddenly shifted his position, reaching for the spider plants nearby and hiding their googly-eyed expressions. "Don't need the spider plants watching us, do we?" he quipped, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You couldn't help but laugh at his comment, burying your head in his neck before your lips met again in another slow, passionate kiss. Steven seemed a little unsure of what to do with his hands, but he eventually rested them on your hips, his fingers trailing up and down your sides in a soft caress.

As you leaned your head against Steven's, you whispered breathlessly, "Maybe I don't need that spare key back after all."

You could feel his chest rumble with a soft chuckle as he responded, "Nah." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as your lips met once more, the world around you fading away as Steven held you in a sweet embrace.

#mkcember2023 #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant x you #Tomb Busters #moonknight #moon knight system #marc spector #steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant x y/n #Moon Knight #moonknightcember

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blubberquark · 10 months ago

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Are Game Blogs Uniquely Lost?

All this started with my looking for the old devlog of Storyteller. I know at some point it was linked from the blogroll on the Braid devlog. Then I tried to look at on old devlog of another game that is still available. The domain for Storyteller is still active. The devblog is gone.

I tried an old bookmark from an old PC (5 PCs ago, I think). It was a web site linked to pixel art and programming tutorials. Instead of linking to the pages directly, some links link led to a twitter threads by authors that collected their work posted on different sites. Some twitter threads are gone because the users were were suspended, or had deleted their accounts voluntarily. Others had deleted old tweets. There was no archive. I have often seen links accompanied by "Here's a thread where $AUTHOR lists all his writing on $TOPIC". I wonder if the sites are still there, and only the tweets are gone.

A lot of "games studies" around 2010 happened on blogs, not in journals. Games studies was online-first, HTML-first, with trackbacks, tags, RSS and comment sections. The work that was published in PDF form in journals and conference proceedings is still there. The blogs are gone. The comment sections are gone. Kill screen daily is gone.

I followed a link from critical-distance.com to a blog post. That blog is gone. The domain is for sale. In the Wayback Machine, I found the link. It pointed to the comment section of another blog. The other blog has removed its comment sections and excluded itself from the Wayback Machine.

I wonder if games stuff is uniquely lost. Many links to game reviews at big sites lead to "page not found", but when I search the game's name, I can find the review from back in 2004. The content is still there, the content management systems have been changed multiple times.

At least my favourite tumblr about game design has been saved in the Wayback Machine: Game Design Tips.

To make my point I could list more sites, more links, 404 but archived, or completely lost, but when I look at small sites, personal sites, blogs, or even forums, I wonder if this is just confirmation bias. There must be all this other content, all these other blogs and personal sites. I don't know about tutorials for knitting, travel blogs, stamp collecting, or recipe blogs. I usually save a print version of recipes to my Download folder.

Another big community is fan fiction. They are like modding, but for books, I think. I don't know if a lot of fan fiction is lost to bit rot and link rot either. What is on AO3 will probably endure, but a lot might have gone missing when communities fandom moved from livejournal to tumblr to twitter, or when blogs moved from Wordpress to Medium to Substack.

I have identified some risk factors:

Personal home pages made from static HTML can stay up for while if the owner meticulously catalogues and links to all their writing on other sites, and if the site covers a variety of interests and topics.

Personal blogs or content management systems are likely to lose content in a software upgrade or migration to a different host.

Writing is more likely to me lost when it's for-pay writing for a smaller for-profit outlet.

A cause for sudden "mass extinction" of content is the move between social networks, or the death of a whole platform. Links to MySpace, Google+, Diaspora, and LiveJournal give me mostly or entirely 404 pages.

In the gaming space, career changes or business closures often mean old content gets deleted. If an indie game is wildly successful, the intellectual property might ge acquired. If it flops, the domain will lapse. When development is finished, maybe the devlog is deleted. When somebody reviews games at first on Steam, then on a blog, and then for a big gaming mag, the Steam reviews might stay up, but the personal site is much more likely to get cleaned up. The same goes for blogging in general, and academia. The most stable kind of content is after hours hobbyist writing by somebody who has a stable and high-paying job outside of media, academia, or journalism.

The biggest risk factor for targeted deletion is controversy. Controversial, highly-discussed and disseminated posts are more likely to be deleted than purely informative ones, and their deletion is more likely to be noticed. If somebody starts a discussion, and then later there are hundreds of links all pointing back to the start, the deletion will hurt more and be more noticeable. The most at-risk posts are those that are supposed to be controversial within a small group, but go viral outside it, or the posts that are controversial within a small group, but then the author says something about politics that draws the attention of the Internet at large to their other writings.

The second biggest risk factor for deletion is probably usefulness combined with hosting costs. This could also be the streetlight effect at work, like in the paragraph above, but the more traffic something gets, the higher the hosting costs. Certain types of content are either hard to monetise, and cost a lot of money, or they can be monetised, so the free version is deliberately deleted.

The more tech-savvy users are, the more likely they are to link between different sites, abandon a blogging platform or social network for the next thing, try to consolidate their writings by deleting their old stuff and setting up their own site, only to let the domain lapse. The more tech-savvy users are, the more likely they are to mess with the HTML of their templates or try out different blogging software.

If content is spread between multiple sites, or if links link to social network posts that link to blog post with a comment that links to a reddit comment that links to a geocities page, any link could break. If content is consolidated in a forum, maybe Archive team could save all of it with some advance notice.

All this could mean that indie games/game design theory/pixel art resources are uniquely lost, and games studies/theory of games criticism/literary criticism applied to games are especially affected by link rot. The semi-professional, semi-hobbyist indie dev, the writer straddling the line between academic and reviewer, they seem the most affected. Artists who start out just doodling and posting their work, who then get hired to work on a game, their posts are deleted. GameFAQs stay online, Steam reviews stay online, but dev logs, forums and blog comment sections are lost.

Or maybe it's only confirmation bias. If I was into restoring old cars, or knitting, or collecting stamps, or any other thing I'd think that particular community is uniquely affected by link rot, and I'd have the bookmarks to prove it.

Figuring this out is important if we want to make predictions about the future of the small web, and about the viability of different efforts to get more people to contribute. We can't figure it out now, because we can't measure the ground truth of web sites that are already gone. Right now, the small web is mostly about the small web, not about stamp collecting or knitting. If we really manage to revitalise the small web, will it be like the small web of today except bigger, the web-1.0 of old, or will certain topics and communities be lost again?

#small web #blogging about blogging #link rot #bit rot #games studies

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proclaimtheword · 1 month ago

Text

(Photo credit from another site. I redacted a name often accused against the pope because I don’t like throwing that word around and I don’t believe in using it against other people, no matter how much I disagree with them.)

It has been more than a week since this happened and the pope said this before a congregation on an official trip to Singapore. I’m appalled that catholic tumblr is utterly silent on this, but not surprised. They really only get up to defend their church against protestants, and then even happily side with unbelievers. I hate fighting with other Christians, of all people, and many times avoid it and just move on. But THIS. Come on. COME ON. I thought we at least agreed Jesus is the only way to salvation! How could you not say something? At least don’t be blind to false teaching!

A catholic, of course, tried to defend it, who actually said the pope is not infallible—but I corrected him on that one (I grew up catholic you’re not fooling me, and yes I have been catechized enough)—then came back to say it only applies ex cathedra: meaning, only when he is ‘in office’ with “full authority.”

I said my pastor then has more integrity. He’s not perfect, but at least he says the same thing whether he is on the pulpit or not. He preaches the same gospel whether at church or in a grocery store. And I never have to make up new doctrine to make him or his job infallible, or exalt him more than necessary to a level higher than a church leader or teacher (I am looking at the saint and blessed pope).

Jesus says, I am The Way, The Truth, and The Life. No comes to the Father except through Me.

How clear can that be? I’ve said this before, No wonder Muslims love Catholics (I constantly refer to Islam on this blog because I live in Middle East; this is also where I converted, and I had never known what it was actually like to be Christian until I lived here). If the world had a favorite type of Christian, it might be the Catholics. And if the world had a least favorite type of Christian, I am sure it’s evangelicals. I mean, even other Christians hate us.

Today I went to church. Have I mentioned we don’t actually have a proper church building? We rent a small villa in a far-side residential area with over 50 people at a service (Praise the Lord! Even in a cramped area and with a tight budget, God still fills our house). We don’t have a name or sign plastered outside identifying as a church. We’re scared because it’s not actually legal to run an evangelical church in this country. But there are Catholic, Anglican, Orthodox churches at least one of each in my city. As I’ve said before, evangelism is illegal, but they will openly convert you to Islam. (I don’t blame them, it’s their country, we’re just here as immigrants and treated accordingly. We don’t try to change laws or culture, and we try our best to live according to the rules. As long as we keep to ourselves and treat it nothing more than a closed gathering, we’ll be fine).

Trust me, I missed being Catholic - because I was just happy and carefree. I didn’t know much of the world or the Word. Ignorance is bliss. But my life changed as soon as I became Christian - when I professed that faith, took it seriously, and preached the gospel boldly. Now I understand the Bible even more intimately - anytime it speaks of persecution, insult, and suffering, I can relate to it. When Jesus says ‘love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you,’ it has more weight.

I don’t know where I am going with this post other than it’s a rant and a writing of personal experience. My journey as a Christian is both a blessing and a curse - in the same way the apostles have written about it. But narrow is the way that leads to life. I know persecution is part of Christian life, and I shall rejoice in it.

Repent! I say this to myself more times in a day than I address it to others. I am a sinner. Always will be. But by the grace of God and blood of Jesus on the cross I shall be justified.

Jesus is the Way. There is no other way.

#christian #catholic #evangelical #christianity

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sarahowritesostucky · 10 months ago

Text

📖"Blood Moon Rising" pt 5

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: shrinkyclinks, prison au, werewolf au, omega Steve, Alpha Bucky, dub-con, non-con, werewolf sex, knotting, oral (m!rec), hand jobs, held hostage, age gap (40/26), forced mating, violence, bonding, Dom/sub elements

Summary: Steve gets a lot more than he bargained for when a prison riot breaks out and he becomes the captive of an Alpha werewolf.

Author's Note: It got waaay too long for Tumblr, y'all. So this is not the last part

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter! Fic Masterlist

Part 5 - "Blood Moon Horizon"

Well, the jig was finally up.

Steve started showing signs of preheat on a Monday, and by Tuesday, everybody in the village knew. Wolves, Peter explained, could sense these things much, much better than humans could. (Apparently Bucky hadn’t been lying when he’d claimed that he could tell when Steve was ovulating.)

Steve was precisely one day away from his heat—something which was somehow both common and undisputed knowledge amongst the wolves.

Even Steve himself couldn’t have said for sure what day he would hit heat based on his preheat symptoms, but everybody all of a sudden started buzzing around, talking about how tomorrow would be the big day and beginning their preparations for the mating run and celebrations.

Chatter also increased drastically, once word got around that there was going to be a “blood moon” the next night—something which the wolves held sacred. While rare, a total lunar eclipse meant absolutely nothing to Steve, but by now he’d learned that anything involving the moon’s cycle held great cultural and spiritual significance to the wolves. Apparently they viewed the blood moon as an omen of sorts, a rare occurrence symbolizing great change and rebirth; a time to resolve feuds, dump baggage, and cleanse the self. Steve didn’t think that boded well at all for him, but Peter seemed to find it very exciting.

“Holy shit, dude. Mated on the friggin’ blood moon?! That’s baddass!”

Bucky never came back to the cabin that night. And, sure as shit, the wolves were right: That next morning, Steve woke up in heat.

“How’d they know?” he whined at Peter, trying to walk around the camp without noticing every single stare that was directed their way. The pack was deep in preparations for his and Bucky’s mating run that night. There was a big heap of wood being assembled in the nearby clearing for that night’s bonfire—apparently a major part of the tradition—and people were bustling about, setting up logs around the area for seating, decorating with foraged plants, stringing flowers and cooking food and brewing a massive amount of some kind of special werewolf cider. Steve eyed the humongous cauldron dubiously as he and Peter crossed the center of the camp. “Is it just a smell thing?”

“Yeah. And pheromones.”

“But that’s the same thing though, isn’t it?”

Peter tried to find a way to explain how it wasn’t the same thing, how pheromones came across to wolves as less of a scent and more of a sixth sense—something that sat right on the periphery of smell and sight and feel. He told Steve that it was like an ‘aura’. “I dunno how else to explain it, man. But it’s very obvious. You might as well have been wearing an ‘I’m about to go into heat’ teeshirt yesterday.”

Well, now he was in heat, and without the modern convenience of any sort of suppressant products, Steve was fully aware of the itch beneath his skin, the wetness between his legs, and the ever-growing ache that was building, deep and powerful, in his belly. He very sincerely missed his shitty shoebox of an apartment back in New York, where he had a very nice collection of both heat-soothing products and knotting dildoes that he could be using right about now. Instead he was stuck here in Hillbilly-town, USA; uncomfortable, horny as fuck, and suffering through every annoying symptom without recourse.

Of course he had no way of masking any of this from the wolves. Steve had grown up not having to wonder if the 90% beta human population could smell him when he was in heat, and aside from it just being flat out embarrassing that everybody knew, this was also very bad news on a practical level, as now Steve stood virtually no chance of slipping away unnoticed, not when he was lit up like a damn Christmas tree of pheromones. He was so impotently angry at himself over it. He’d had months to try and get away, and now the jig was up. Steve was in heat, he was lit up like a pheromonal beacon to every single person in the pack, and he now had to face the disappointing truth:

He’d waited too long.

He spent the morning skulking around the edges of camp with Peter by his side, impulsively considering running off into the forest multiple times, but discarding the thought each time it came up.

That wouldn’t work. He’d already been shown that it wouldn’t work, each time the wolves dragged him back to Bucky’s doorstep. And that was before he’d been in heat. Steve did his best to seem taciturn and unapproachable, not wanting to deal with the stares and attention of the people in the village. It was awkward as fuck. And he especially didn’t want to be around Bucky.

But that wasn’t something he had to worry about, because Bucky had pretty much been gone ever since Steve first realized he was in preheat, making himself scarce during the day and returning home to the cabin only once Steve was already asleep. He’d been leaving early each morning, too, before Steve woke. In fact, Steve wasn’t even sure if the Alpha had come back to sleep in the cabin at all last night.

He wasn’t gone though: Steve caught sight of him once or twice on the day of the mating run. The village alphas were holding more of their super-secret, alphas-only meetings, and Steve realized pretty quick that there was no way in hell he could eavesdrop anymore, as they knew right away when he was lurking nearby.

“Just go help put stuff together for the celebration,” Dum Dum scolded as he carried Steve away by the scruff and dumped him in the dirt outside the village’s omega yurt. “You’re not supposed to be around each other right now.”

“I need to talk to him!”

“You can talk to him plenty tonight,” Dum Dum said meaningfully. “Look kid, it’s tradition, alright? Like the groom and bride not seeing each other. Just go in there and help with the preparations.”

Steve grunted indignantly as he stood up from the ground, brushing the dust off his clothes. “I’m not a kid, I’m twenty-six. And I’m not his bride. He kidnapped me. Why does everybody just gloss over that part like it doesn’t matter?!”

“Because it doesn’t.” Dum Dum shook his head. “You’re a pill, kid. I don’t know why he wants you, but he does.” Steve glared at him, and Dum Dum narrowed his eyes. “Look, he’s a good man, just trying to do right by his people. He already has to deal with more shit than you know, keeping order in this pack. Don’t go makin’ it harder for him.”

Steve frowned. He knew by now that leadership was fought for amongst the wolves, sometimes brutally. It was hard won and hard kept. It depended on a complex combination of honor, biologically-coded dominance, and sheer brutality, which was why humans so often classified their packs as gangs. But it wasn’t the same. Steve could see that now.

Bucky was a good leader, and though he kept most things very close to the chest, he’d all but told Steve that there were continual challenges to his authority as Alpha. And other people in the pack had made it clear that Bucky being their Alpha was the best thing to happen to the pack in a long time.

From the moment he’d stopped him from stabbing Batroc with a pencil back at the prison, Dum Dum had always looked at Steve like he was a problem, and that’s how he looked at him now, when Steve scoffed at his admonition not to make trouble for Bucky.

Sure, Steve didn’t want to be the reason a bunch of innocent people had their already-hard existence thrown into chaos, but he still didn’t deserve to be trapped here. His jaw worked in frustration as Dum Dum watched him, clearly waiting for an answer. “I’m just trying to get back to my life,” Steve huffed. “I mean what the heck else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to be in there with your own kind, getting ready for the celebration.” Dum Dum pointed at the yurt, and Steve looked over his shoulder with a scowl.

“They’re not my kind. I’m omega, not a werewolf. And I’m not in this pack.”

“For now.”

“And I don’t want to celebrate.” Steve crossed his arms. “I’m not helping with arranging fucking flowers or whatever the hell they’re doing in there.”

“Then maybe talk to some of ‘em,” Dum Dum suggested, gesturing angrily at the yurt’s door. “Maybe you’ll make a friend. Or better yet, maybe they’ll knock some sense into you.” With that, he turned and left.

And so, Steve found himself inside the camp’s omega yurt: a place about which he’d known, but had steadfastly avoided going inside of until now. It was a big, round structure that served as a communal social space for the pack's adult omegas.

Inside, Steve was surprised to find dozens of cozy bean bag chairs and blankets for nesting. Unlike many of the pack cabins, the yurt had a polished wood floor and was fully modernized inside; with the center of the structure housing the nicest, biggest kitchen Steve had yet seen in the entire village, and the interior smelling richly of baked bread and omega bodies. Steve knew that the pack alphas and betas weren’t really supposed to come nosing around there, as it was considered a private, omega-only space. That was comforting, and on a day when not much else could make him feel safe, that kinda did. At least temporarily.

“Steve!”

“Oh is that him?”

“Yo!”

“Wow, come grab a bag, man. Welcome!”

Over by the beanbag circle, a russet-colored wolf whom Steve recognized as Wanda lifted its head, whining as if in her own form of greeting before flopping back down to lie on the floor and enjoy the ambient heat from the nearby wood stove, just like any other lazy dog might do. Steve smiled despite himself.

He’d been avoiding this place, as he knew that all the other omegas would sit around like Wanda did and try to convince him to be happy with a life in the pack. But now that his fate was rapidly closing in on him, Steve knew he needed to learn as much as he could about what was going to happen that night. He went over to where Darcy was urging him to take up one of the beanbags, and plopped down as she began introducing him to the handful of pack omegas whom he’d seen around camp but never really met.

“—and of course you know Hairy, over there,” she said at the end, kicking her foot in the air in Wanda’s direction.

Beside the woodstove, the wolf briefly wagged its tail and chuffed.

“So then it is a wedding,” Steve concluded a while later, after they’d been talking about the upcoming mating run. He peeked around at the other wolves nearby. Wanda hadn’t moved an inch and looked like she was dozing, Nakia was in another of the beanbags, Darcy in another, and Thor’s mate Jane in the one next to that. Peter’s aunt May was over in the kitchen area, working on making a large sheet cake which Peter had already warned Steve would be very disappointing; and Scott—the only other male omega in the pack besides Peter—was loitering on the kitchen’s periphery, pretending to help with the baking while most of his energy went into trying to sneak tastes of the cake batter.

“I mean, the bonfire’s like the reception,” Steve ventured. “The run is kinda like the, um … the ceremony? I guess? And the bite is like the vow.” He made a face as he said it and rubbed his neck self-consciously, still terrified of the thought of Bucky chomping down on him like that. “And then we’ll be married,” he said quietly, thinking, fuck.

“Mated,” Nakia corrected from over on her beanbag, where she had the coffee table pulled up close as she worked on mixing up a bunch of things in bowls with a mortar and pestle. “Same idea. A bit more permanent, though.”

“And way more fun,” Darcy said with a dirty wink.

She and Jane shared a titter over that, which Steve could only take to mean that they were talking about the sex-part that came at the end. He’d been told all about that, too (though honestly, he’d kind of already figured that there would be a sex-part, once he heard that they’d be doing this whole thing naked). “Yeah,” he said weakly. “ ‘Fun’. Right.”

“Jane got pupped up on the night of her mating run,” Darcy divulged, making Steve’s eyes widen at the thought of the same happening to him. “Maybe you will, too, Steve!”

“Here’s hoping not.” His eyes slid over to Jane, who was using her very pregnant belly as a worktop to thread flowers on a string. “I mean, um, no offense to you or anything.”

“None taken.” Jane looked peevishly over at Darcy. “We don’t know if it was that exact night.”

Jane, Steve had learned, was an unassuming and intelligent woman. She was very pretty and she seemed kind and pleasant to be around. But that wasn’t what intrigued Steve about her. Happily mated to Thor and heavily pregnant with their first baby, she was also one of only two pack members who’d been infected with lycanthropy rather than born with it. She’d lived with the pack for less than a year, was due to give birth soon, and—unlike Wanda—was choosing to remain in her human form for the event. Steve desperately wished he could talk to her alone and ask her all sorts of questions: why she was there, why she’d stayed and let them infect her and—

“Blegh! not me,” Darcy was proclaiming, telling Jane that she was a fool for choosing to deliver the baby in her human form rather than as a wolf. “You’re nuts. All that pain?” She shook her head. “Mark my words, you’re gonna regret it. And I’ll have to be the one there holding your hand while you’re poppin’ those pups out, letting you squeeze my bones until they’re popping out, too.”

Jane smiled privately and put a hand on her stomach. “I want to hold them when they come. I want them to hear my voice, feel my skin.”

“Nuts,” Darcy reiterated.

“Them?” Steve asked. “You’re having more than one?”

Jane smiled and nodded, while Darcy told him about how most omegas had “litters” rather than single babies; two or three pups at a time was considered normal, expected even.

Steve blanched. “But isn’t that … I mean, aren’t pregnancies like that considered high risk?” He looked over at Jane, slightly concerned. “Shouldn’t you guys have access to a hospital and doctors?”

“We’ve got Bruce,” Darcy said.

“And it’s different with wolf pups,” Jane added. “The babies develop faster but come out smaller, and sturdier.”

Morbidly, it occurred to Steve to wonder if the babies came out in human form or wolf form. “So … you’re seriously not worried?”

Jane rubbed her belly serenely. “No. I’m excited.” Steve’s disquiet must’ve still been written on his face, however, because she looked him in the eye and tried to assure him, “You have to understand: birthing is much better tolerated amongst wolves. Much more natural. Complications are very rare.”

“Yeah, even in newbies like her,” Darcy teased, kicking over at the side of Jane’s beanbag. “Werewolf groupies.” Jane scoffed and tried to kick back at Darcy’s beanbag, but she failed and gave up due to how encumbered she was by her belly.

Steve hadn’t missed how close the two women seemed to be. He’d been assuming they were just really good friends all this time, and that assumption persisted right up until the point when Jane asked Darcy when she was “going to stop being such a jerk to Thor and accept his affections already.” Steve squinted, confused for a split second because he thought Thor was the father of Jane’s baby …

“Thor’s been courting Darcy for half a year now,” Jane revealed. “But she’s been playing hard to get.”

Steve was about to ask if there were two guys named Thor in the pack, until he abruptly remembered that the wolves practiced a form of polygamy, and he was encountering an instance of that right now. “I—oh.” He bit back the words he’d been about to say, looking over at Darcy instead, affronted. “You never mentioned you were with somebody.”

“Well I’m not! … Not technically. It’s only been a little while.” She shrugged and tried to play it off nonchalantly, but Steve could still see the hints of a blush on her face. “And anyway, I mean come on, it’s Thor.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s such a flirt. Big old oaf who thinks he’s God’s gift to women, leaves a couple 'a dead rabbits on your doorstep and thinks he's won your heart."

Steve made a face at the thought of animal carcasses as courting gifts. "What, roses were too old fashioned?" he muttered, eliciting a giggle from Jane and a huff from Darcy.

"I'm just saying: a peacock like Thor can stand to wait. He's probably never had to wait and wonder for longer than a day in his whole mighty life, until now.”

“A peacock whom you know you’re going to say yes to, eventually,” Jane needled, turning back to Steve with a sly look. “She thinks she’s playing hard to get. Thinks Thor’s too full of himself or something.”

“That wolf’s ego is far too big for his knot,” Darcy insisted. “I’m just bringing him down a peg. It’s character development. You should be thanking me.”

“For making my mate less insufferable? Or because I have you to look forward to as a sister wife?”

“Exactly.”

“Mark my words,” Aunt May called from over in the kitchen, waving her rubber spatula in the air. “We’ll be having another run within the next few months for you two.”

Jane and Nakia agreed, while Darcy scoffed and insisted that she intended to string Thor along for far longer than that.

Meanwhile Steve was still sitting there, reeling at the stark reminder of how differently these people lived, with their tribal mindset and their polygamy and their weirdly primal traditions. He had to face the reality that he’d long been avoiding: That unless a miracle occurred and he suddenly somehow devised a workable escape plan before that very night, he’d soon be a mated omega, exposed to or infected with lycanthropy, and possibly even pregnant.

The other women in the group talked excitedly about the upcoming night of celebrations, gabbing to Steve of what the traditions were and what he could expect. Everyone would gather for a big, blow-out party around the bonfire, then Steve would be sent off into the woods—naked, in heat, and with a headstart that was purely symbolic in nature. Then, after a short while, Bucky would shift and come after him, a predator tracking his prey in the night.

Steve shuddered to think how pathetically easy it was going to be for Bucky. He’d sniff Steve out and chase him down, pounce on him, bite him, fuck him and knot him and mate him right out in the middle of the forest.

“Doesn’t exactly seem fair,” Steve grumbled, “or comfortable.” It was October now, and though they’d travelled much farther south than where they’d started in New York, Steve still didn’t relish the thought of running butt-ass naked through the woods for any extended period of time. “I’ll freeze out there,” he complained. “And why do I have to be naked?”

“Mates usually run in fur,” Darcy said. “The omega starts in skin and shifts once they’re a ways out of sight—to make the chase harder.”

“Yeah, not exactly an option for me.” Like anything he could do would possibly make this a fair chase. He was doomed.

“Don’t worry,” Jane tried to console him, “I was human when I ran, too. Nudity is so normalized here, nobody bats an eye at you, I promise. And there are plenty of dens out in the forest where he can take you. That’s what Thor did for me. He even made it nice beforehand with all sorts of soft furs and stuff.” She smiled and looked down bashfully. “It was actually really sweet.”

“Dens?”

“Oh yeah. Mostly built into like, rocky outcroppings and stuff. There’s tons of places like that out there.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Yeah, I know.” He’d become well-acquainted with the forest’s inhospitable terrain—mostly during his unsuccessful nighttime escape attempts.

“Those dens are mostly left over, right May? Like when they’d do whole pack runs in the old days?”

In the kitchen, May nodded after chasing Scott off from the icing bowl again. “Yep.”

“The whole pack?”

“Yeah,” Darcy supplied. “Like, not just two people. They’d all do it at once as a group. Any omega who wasn’t mated could run, and then whatever alpha caught you first was who bonded you.”

“What?!”

“This was all a long time ago,” May called over from the kitchen. “Ancient practice.”

“Not that ancient,” Darcy said. “My grandparents did it. ‘Course, back then there were a lot more omegas, and apparently most people went into season at the same time—I know, wild right? That’s why they’d just do it twice a year or whatever, when everybody was in heat. It was like this massive, huge event. Like, everybody looked forward to it and gossiped about it and made bets on it. All the Alphas would try to make secret deals with each other, and the omegas would try to figure out who’d be chasing them, how to get someone onto your scent without being too obvious, stuff like that—Like prom, for werewolves!” She laughed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Steve said.

“Naw. My grandma told me about it. It was a whole thing back in those days. The alphas who had their sights set on someone would come up with all of these grand courting gestures, go out in the forest ahead of time and make dens to try and herd their favorite omega towards.” She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “But then things like consent came into fashion, so.”

“Don’t scare the boy,” May scolded. “He’s still new to all thi—Scott! Get your finger out of that bowl before I take it off!”

“Jesus.” Steve supposed he should at least be grateful that it was only Bucky he had to worry about, rather than an entire pack of horny werewolves. He felt silly about the whole idea of the mating run. As if someone like him stood any real chance at evading Bucky. What a joke. “He’ll probably catch me in the first two minutes,” Steve mourned.

“Naw, you get a thirty-minute head start, remember?” Darcy smirked. “It’ll take him at least three minutes to catch up with you.”

Steve shot her a withering glare. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Don’t worry,” Nakia said. She was still diligently grinding with the mortar and pestle, and she gestured with it. “This will help disguise your scent. It will make for a better chase.” She smiled like that was something Steve should be excited about, and he did try to at least offer her a friendly nod back, aware that there were undoubtedly some massive cultural differences in play.

Nakia wasn’t just a werewolf, she was also African—not African-American, mind you, but straight-up African—along with Okoye and M’Baku, and that freaking terrifying guy who’d done the executions at the prison: Killmonger. They all hailed from some tiny, impoverished country that Steve could vaguely remember having learned about in highschool, but he still hadn’t been able to figure out why the heck they were living with Bucky’s pack in the middle of the Appalachian mountains. When he’d asked Bucky and Okoye before, all they would say was that it was some sort of “outreach program.”

(Not much of an outreach program when the whole pack was running fugitive from the law, though, now was it?)

Steve eyed up the substance that Nakia was grinding in the mortar. “What is it?” he asked dubiously. It smelled earthy and dank, but good; kind of like how fallen leaves smelled in the fall, once they accumulated on the ground and began to rot. If it smelled that strongly to him, what must it smell like to a wolf nose? Steve made a face as he considered it. “Is that … that’s stuff’s not going on me, is it?”

Nakia nodded sagely. “Special Wakandan recipe. Your wolf won’t catch you so easy with this. He will have to hunt.”

“... Great,” Steve said. “Thanks.” Really, he wasn’t so sure if he should bother with using the mystery paste. Would any attempt to evade Bucky at this point make a difference? Or would it just prolong the chase before the inevitable capture?

Steve wasn’t looking forward to finding out.

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup. It's a big part of what allows me to take time to write. Thanks!

This has been a fill for:

Event: @anyfandomdarkbingo

Card: sarahyellow / sarah-writes-stucky

Square I5: Omega pregnancy

Event: @marvel-smash-bingo

Card: sarah-writes-stucky

Square N1: Alpha!Bucky Barnes

Event: @sebastianstanbingo

Card: sarahowritesostucky

Square N1: Courting

Event: @ultimatechrisbingo

Card: sarahowritesostucky

Square O4: Alpha/Omega/Omega ship

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meadowziplines · 9 months ago

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#IFD2024 Feedback Fest: 10 Dreamling Fic Recs

10 Dreamling Fic Recs // 10 Gen Sandman Fic Recs // 10 Femslash Sandman Fic Recs // 10 Fic Recs For Other Fandoms

I have not provided additional cw's beyond what is in the summary; please check work tags before reading.

I didn't tend to include authors whose works are already quite popular. Also, it was hard picking these and I love many more fics! And feel free to tag in authors whose Tumblr handles I don't know.

(G-M)

[T] Now I Lay Me by Cheshyr/@five-and-dimes (10.5k): Dream is the Dreaming and the Dreaming is Him. So he tries to take one of those out of the equation. (A magical suicide attempt and how Dream's loved ones save him.)

[T] Tread of an Echo by LivingProof (14.1k): Hob Gadling does not free Dream of the Endless from his prison in the Burgess estate. There is no grand rescue. No barging in, guns blazing, no daring adventure, no dashing escape. There is only this, after. Pints in the New Inn and coffee and conversation in Hob’s office and the slow, slow building of a bridge, brick by brick. Hob does not free Dream from his prison. But he might help save Dream, all the same.

[T] Echo of a Myth by LivingProof (64.1k): Dream seeks to neutralize what is left of the Order of Ancient Mysteries. It should be a simple matter. But while the Endless may be many things, they are as prone to repeating old mistakes as anyone. Or: Dream misses another appointment. This time, Hob is determined to find out why.

[T] to make a heaven of hell by katheneverwrites (mandolinearts)/@mandolinearts (5.7k): "Where did you get this?" Hob’s exclamation is almost, almost incredulous. He can see Dream’s handwriting on the paper sticking out. It’s in pencil because Dream preferred saving ink. He would also chew the end of the pencil when he was deeply focused. Hob would never dare mention this to him.

"Found it in the fireplace," the man says as if stating the obvious. The lenses of his sunglasses glint. The sky is still clouded over. "You should know - manuscripts don't burn," he shoots Hob a smirk and hands him the folder.

An urban fantasy AU heavily inspired by the novel Master and Margarita by Michail Bulgakov.

[T] watch the world from the sidelines by hondayotas (11.1k): dream has always been on the periphery of life, never wanting to get his hands messy, but hob gadling is pulling him in more than he'd like to admit.

[T] it is not a language we know (yet) by Chrome (1.2k): “Alright,” Hob said. “So. Decide what sin you’re letting go of, and—let it go. That’s it, huh? It feels too easy.” He broke off a large piece and held it over the edge of the bridge, waiting.

“It isn’t,” Dream said softly.

Notes: Obligatory Rosh Hashanah fic! Shana tovah, friends.

[T] Galaxies on the Floor by aliaoftwoworlds (55.9k): Hob hadn’t planned to confess his immortality to anyone, but it had seemed the right thing to do at the time, and he turned out to be very grateful for it one day as he and his most knowledgeable student knelt on the floor of a classroom beside the smoldering body of a demon, trying to hold down a writhing, shapeshifting creature that usually masqueraded as Hob’s man-shaped lover.

[M] If I Am Nothing, If I Am Trying by Lost_Elf/@lostelfwriting (6.5k): The Endless family has some skeletons in their closets, and they tend to get between Morpheus and Hob.

(this was a gift for me and wahhh <3)

(E)

[E] By the Dead of Morning by Essie (39.7k): When Despair is killed by the Kindly Ones for spilling family blood, she departs to the sunless lands, never to return. Thus, Hob Gadling, a lowly mercenary living in London in 1389, becomes Hope of the Endless.

Over six hundred years later, Death takes him out for a drink, Desire in tow, to the Tavern of the White Horse, where he meets Morpheus, a down on his luck mortal crying into his sangria after a recent break-up. Desire believes that Morpheus’s death wish is genuine and that he will be dead within a year, but Hope is certain the man has too much to live for. Death offers a solution, she will not take Morpheus until he asks for her gift, but as soon as he does, she will grant it.

Hob approaches Morpheus with every intention of winning a bet, but Hob is the youngest Endless by far and doesn’t know the family’s full complicated history. Or their connection to Morpheus.

A reverse-verse, canon divergent AU.

[E] it's warm, the skin i'm living in by hardly_an_escape (2.4k): Hob realizes Dream is being a little… extra creative when it comes to their love life. When he asks his boyfriend what’s going on, some of Dream’s deep-seated fears are revealed. One part fun shapeshifting sex, one part Dream being incredibly insecure, one part immortals being disgustingly in love with each other.

#IFD2024 #feedback fest #otw #fic recs #international fanworks day #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #dream #morpheus #the sandman #the sandman (netflix)

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yarrystyleeza · 1 year ago

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𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓪'𝓼 𝓽𝔀𝓸 𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓭

𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓼𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸��

The moment I've been waiting for has finally come! As I indicated in the headline, I've reached 200 followers here on Tumblr, thank you all so much, this truly means a lot to me, also thank you for the feedback I always got on my works and even my random shitposts! <3

and to celebrate this very important and remarkable life event— I had planned a sleepover celebration which consists of games, questions, asks, and of course, requests! <3

The sleepover will be a week long, from September 15th till the 21st of the same month where you can submit asks and requests!

As for games, I have a list of them!

Kiss/Marry/Kill: you give me three characters and I will sort each one in one of these categories! (make it hard for me)

This or That: you give me two things/characters and I get to choose one that suits me better! (for example: night owl or early bird?)

make an assumption: you literally make an assumption about me and I either prove it or deny it!

never have I ever: you ask me about things I did or didn't do!

exchanged ships: you basically give me a character that you find as my significant other, and I will give you a character in exchange and why I think it's the perfect character for you!

Q&A: you can ask me about anything, whether it's my favorite food or even what fabrics do I prefer to wear, ask whatever you want!

Girly talks: just talk to me about any girly topic you want and we'll establish a good conversation! Let's talk about books or authors, favorite poetry pieces, maybe movies we loved in our childhood, or even your favorite outfits back when you were a 10 year old! Literally anything!

Rate my music taste: give me a song/artist and I will rate it from 1 (absolute flop) to 10 (total banger)! — (this is absolutely done just for fun).

I wanna write you a song: start with a phrase and we will make a totally original song together in the reblogs!

Note on prohibited things that I won't be doing or answering:

No nsfw/dirty asks, writing requests or questions, it's uncomfortable for me, and it's an all-ages-friendly celebration. No further elaboration, please respect this. <3

AND FINALLY, THE REQUESTS!

As for writing requests, I will be taking fluff/angst/violence (blood and gore—due to the nature of the characters I write for) x female!reader requests only. And of course you can request the prompt you desire. <3

As for the characters, here's a list of the fictional men that I would be writing for:

Matt Murdock/Daredevil

Tristan Thorn

Michael Kinsella

Daryl Dixon

(might consider writing for other Charlie Cox/Norman Reedus characters. example: Ian Hamilton, Henry the vampire, Scud, Murphy MacManus, etc.)

You can ask for prompt included in this list or ones you come up with yourself:

Intimate moments

Gestures that make me feel love

Romantic rainy day prompts

gentle things that makes me fall harder in love

fluffy comforting/sick dialogue prompts

lighthearted first kiss scenarios

Sparring prompts

Forced proximity prompts

Date prompts masterpost

Note that I will be tagging the fic requests with #yuna's 2h sleepover celebration so that they're all sorted there, but they will be sorted in my main masterlist as regular requests! <3

tagging my moots to spread the word sorry for being a little too annoying hehe (and I tried to tag as much as possible but my memory is messing around with me I'm sorry if I forgot anyone) @v4leoftears @remonemo @fizanotfeeza @netflixmatt @bellaxgiornata @farfromstrange @itwasthereaminuteago @loveroftoomanyfandoms @little-miss-dilf-lover @tongueofcat @mattmurdockscox @courtforshort15 @chvoswxtch @mattmurdocksscars @kal-0n @murc0ck @babygrlmurdock @galaxies-and-moons-and-cox @acharliecoxedfan @mindidjarin @she-likesorchids @munsonownsmyass @saintmurd0ck @murdocklorian @abbyhaslongshorts @theradioactivespidergwen @softasawhisper @peterman-spideyparker @mattmurdocksstarlight @netflixmatt-main

That's basically everything I have for my first sleepover celebration, feel free to submit your requests and games anytime! Thank you for coming to my sleepover tonight! <3

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inksandpensblog · 6 months ago

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bruh what

okay so you know that ao3 lets you change what date it says your fic was posted?

I only know about this because I discovered that if you publish a draft then it'll document the publishing date as the day you started the draft, even if the day you actually publish it is some time later. I've had to go back and edit chapters and fics to actually reflect the correct publishing date before.

Well, today I went to the first page of the AvA folder on ao3, because I was talking about why I started writing AvA fic but I didn't remember when I'd actually posted the first one on the archive and I wanted to reference the date.

I've never claimed to be the first person to write AvA fic; ffn.net doesn't have an AvA page despite having a few fics with AvA characters, so it's hard to find what the oldest one on that platform might be; I'm unfamiliar with Wattpad's organization system, so finding the oldest AvA fic there when not every fic appears in the tag I'm searching is tricky; I don't know what might've been posted to discord servers I'm not in; and it's possible I missed something on tumblr.

I've never claimed to be the first person to write AvA fic. However, I have always taken a bit of pride in saying that I was the first person to post AvA fic to ao3. I could always say that if you go to the AvA category on ao3 and skip to the very last page of chronological results, I'd be at the bottom.

But when I looked at the last chronological page today, I found that...apparently I'm not, anymore? I posted the first fic in September 2017. Someone's posted a fic with the publishing date recorded as October 2011. This is the fic that now shows up at the very end of the chronological list.

From what I can tell, it was actually posted sometime in November 2023; all the comments on it so far are from November 2023, and it's the only entry in a series with a "series updated" date of November 2023.

Looking at the fic, I think I get why the author changed the date to specifically October 2011; it syncs up with the in-universe date of the fic's events (those being, the events of AvA3 and the first half of The Flashback). If the author is planning to do some meta storytelling using the structure of the archive itself, that could be neat. Utilizing the medium as an aspect of the narrative is always intriguing.

But at the same time...I'm a little sore, I guess?

Idk, honestly I'm still trying to parse whether I have any right to feel upset about this. It seems like such a silly thing to feel so strongly about. I guess I cared more about being the oldest chronological AvA author on ao3 than I realized. Not sure if that's my vanity and I need a reality check, or if that's the part of me that cares very much about AvA fandom history in general and likes being able to track how we've changed over time.

Someone let me know if I'm making a mountain out of a molehill.

Edit: when I say the last chronological page of AvA results, I mean the last chronological page of fics sorted by "date updated." This is the default filter, so it's the one I always use. A friend in the notes has informed me that sorting by "date posted" will still show me as the earliest chronologically. I tried to find the other fic on that setting and I can't, it's not near either of the November dates I tried looking in.

#animator vs animation #animation vs minecraft #avm shorts #ava shorts #ao3

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justwritedreams · 2 years ago

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Lightning | Wooyoung

Vampire!Wooyoung x Investigator!Reader, Seonghwa and Hongjoong appears too. Word count: 9305 Genre: angst, horror Author: maari Warnings: I'm rating this one +18 so minors DNI please! Contains strong violence, like very graphic, blood, sensitive themes, death. It's a vampire au, what else can I say. I have to say that yes, this is fiction so whatever I say about the 19th century has absolutely nothing to do with reality, okay? And I know almost nothing about Romania except what I've already researched so don't read if you want something else accurate. Note: AYO there's someone surprised? Because I'm not lol This story is from 2015, I had already posted the Portuguese version on other platforms but I felt I needed to adapt it for tumblr. Thank you Wooyoung for giving me the vampire vision I needed. Summary: There are many mysteries in the 19th century, but the biggest one is your old first love that it's back in town.

⩥ Ateez Masterlist

19th Century. Romania. “Apparently there is a witness who lives downtown, so I..” “Apparently? Miss Y/L/N, we thought you had something concrete to prove your case to us." the sheriff interrupted her, making her take a deep breath, completely ignoring the lack of ethics. "I went to the village and only found dust, something has definitely happened." She concludes, with the last vestige of hope. Why did he look so bored listening to that? It was as if he didn't give the slightest credit to her words. In fact, it was difficult to maintain her poise when the sheriff's somber black eyes rested on her, a shiver going up her spine every time that happened. "And some people are scared of you, they said you're following them, miss." He rolled his eyes, pissing her off even more. "The murders didn't happen by coincidence!" she tried to argue and felt a hand on her shoulder. "Mr. Park, please contain your client." the sheriff spoke to the young man beside her, as if the woman were not even there. "Unfortunately it is not something that is of interest to you. Leave. We have a case to solve before the killer causes more panic." having said that, he and the other two men who were silent in the same room completely ignored both of them, as if their presence didn't make the slightest difference. As if her thesis wasn't convincing enough. What could she do without the evidence? Besides making others think she was crazy. "Please, Y/N, come with me." Seonghwa said, lightly pulling her shoulder.

She decided to leave with a sigh before starting screaming, it would be a lack of courtesy on her part and would ruin her reputation. It would be pointless to argue further about something the sheriff clearly wasn't interested in.

"I'm glad you didn't keep arguing." Seonghwa spoke when they were already leaving the place.

"It would be in vain, isn't truth?" she questioned, upset but not defeated.

"Y/N, I know how important your profession is to you." Seonghwa stopped outside, causing Y/N to do the same. She looked at him, he looked sincere. "But you need to be careful, as your attorney, disrupting a sheriff's investigation can get you into a lot of trouble. A mess that I might not be able to get you out of."

Y/N took a deep breath and looked straight ahead, far beyond the standing man, that's when her eyes focused on a familiar figure.

Her entire body shivered as his dark eyes met hers. Unlike before, the boy's eyes were filled with a dark haze. The serious face and emotionless expression was the opposite of the easy and wide smile boy who lit up the whole city.

"Y/N?"

"Is that…" she stopped for a second, to make sure what she saw was real and not a hallucination. As it had happened before.

That made Seonghwa turn to where she was looking.

"Jung." he spoke in a low tone and took two steps back, standing next to Y/N who looked like was going to collapse.

And indeed, maybe she would collapse, because now that Seonghwa wasn't in front of her, she could watch the boy who was now walking towards her.

He wore black leather clothes, a red blouse underneath and necklaces, very different from the elegant and light clothes he wore in the past.

God, he was wearing leather gloves!

He hated gloves.

"Y/N." she felt her whole body shiver when heard the boy's voice. Not just because of the fact that it had been a long time since she last spoke to him, but because his voice was now more mature. More obscure.

"Wooyoung." her answer was nothing more than a whisper and she couldn't take her eyes off him.

He looked like the same boy she knew but at the same time, was different.

"Well, I'm on my way. Let me know if you need my help again, Y/N." Seonghwa spoke and before she could say thank you, he left, glaring at Wooyoung steadily as he walked past him.

"I didn't know you were friends with pirates." Even serious, with a raised eyebrow, Y/N could hear the slight teasing and even surprise in his voice.

"I didn't know you were back in town." She replied, crossing her arms.

Wooyoung laughed, without humor.

"I can see you're on the defensive."

"Do you blame me?"

"No, of course not." he shook his head. "I understand, like no one else."

Y/N felt her legs wobble, it took a lot of self control not to let him notice.

That phrase was theirs. He always said that to her when she was feeling lonely.

"Seonghwa was a pirate but is a great attorney." she replied, changing the subject suddenly.

"A what?" he looked shocked and Y/N wanted to laugh if it was any other circumstance. "Why would you need an attorney?"

"Because I almost got arrested." she replied, huffing and started walking towards her destination.

It was better to talk about the sheriff and his strange behavior than the past and how Wooyoung had suddenly appeared as if he had never left.

"It must have been something very worrying for you to need the help of a pirate attorney."

Y/N knew that tactic and that's why didn't answer, she just twisted her lip.

It wasn't quite true, but it wasn't a lie either. The fact that Seonghwa had been a pirate wasn't important, but she needed an attorney when the sheriff wanted to arrest her..

However, she wouldn't tell Wooyoung what had happened that easily. It wasn't just showing up after so much time that he would get everything he wanted.

"Oh, I see, you're mad at me." he laughed again without humor and Y/N got irritated with the whole situation.

"Well, don't tell me, Mr. I know everything!" she stopped walking and turned abruptly to face him. "You come back after years, without sending a letter, without even knowing where you went and you want me to be happy to see you?" Wooyoung was silent, analyzing Y/N's face so thoroughly that she found it strange.

"What happened?"

"What?"

"Your eyes are blinking constantly and I can see the worry in them." Y/N widened her eyes and Wooyoung twisted his mouth, almost as if he wanted to smile but couldn't. He still knew her better than anyone else, so that was why Y/N sighed. Defeated to expect an explanation from him.

Okay, she was still shocked that he had suddenly returned but she trusted him more than herself. And it wasn't like she could lie to him. "You always knew about my dream of becoming a private investigator." she said, seeing him nod. "I got a case. A murder on a farm in the city, the owner's daughter was murdered for no apparent reason."

"And?"

"And it coincided with 2 other murders. I was finally talking to some possible witnesses when the town sheriff came up to me, saying I had to go with him because they had reported me for disturbance. Apparently someone is afraid I'm going to find out something."

"Is this how Seonghwa appeared?" She nodded.

"We've been friends for a long time, you know." Wooyoung reluctantly agreed. "We became closer with your departure." he looked at her seriously and confused.

"Wait, what do you mean by that?"

"I needed a friend, Wooyoung. He was there for me." she snapped back and he was silent.

They stared at each other for a while, as if to make up for lost time or find the answers they needed.

Anyway, Y/N knew he wouldn't say what was going on to make him come back without warning.

Even more so with such a difference between the Wooyoung she used to know.

"I felt the need to go back, something told me to." He spoke in a soft tone that caught Y/N off guard.

She couldn't contain her jaw which dropped in sheer shock.

It even looked like he had read her mind, which shouldn't be surprising because they used to do that in the old days.

Talk through the eyes.

"You know what happened." She raised an eyebrow. "About the murder, I mean."

"I have some theories."

"Then?" Wooyoung asked. "The police think I'm hallucinating." she said, angry. "There's something wrong, the sheriff was so… bizarre." She felt a shiver run down her spine at the memory of the man. He almost looked happy to be taking her away from people, and by the time she explained what was going on, he already seemed to have reached his own conclusions. At first, Y/N thought it was just jealousy of her work. She was paid very well to be a professional investigator and she didn't have to deal with the mayor like the sheriff did, she didn't have to wait for authorization from higher ups because she didn't have any. But then she realized that it wasn't that, in fact it was far from it. "Y/N, why don't you let It be?" she looked at him in disbelief. "Can't you see you could be in danger?"

"Excuse me?" he had no sign of reluctance on his face. He was indeed serious. "You have no right to tell me what to do."

She walked again but was stopped, held in the arm by Wooyoung, who didn't take long to bring his body closer to hers.

Ah yes, that was worrying, Wooyoung was not one to maintain physical contact on the street, with an entire city looking on and could compromise the two. That was always the excuse he gave to Y/N. But she couldn't deny that she liked it, even though she was a little mad at him, because she missed him so much that was still greater than any other feeling and having him there, holding her arm although firmly but gentle was probably the closest they would get to each other for now. "Leave this case before something happens." he asked gently but his eyes were different.

It was almost as if he was begging her to stop because somehow he knew it would hurt her.

However, he had no way of knowing.

Or had?

Y/N looked into his eyes, they were still dark but something said that the Wooyoung she knew was still there. He only knew what she had told him, not her theories, so how could he know it was dangerous if he had just come back to town? Why did he suddenly look so worried? "Would you like to tell me something, Wooyoung?" asked, still not understanding the sudden concern.

Her questioning took him by surprise, who looked away anywhere but her eyes. But that didn't make her give in, she continued to stare at him anyway.

He fell silent for a moment until he held her other arm and stared into her eyes in the way that made Y/N legs shake and her head stop thinking. "Listen, I care about your life and I know this story will not end well. Give it up before you get hurt, Y/N."

She had so many questions, and didn't even know where to start.

She wanted to say that those words hadn't affected her but that would be a lie, just as it would be a lie to promise that she would give up when she wouldn't. "I'm a professional, Wooyoung. I was hired to find out who the monster is and that's exactly what I'm going to do." She retorted.

Y/N was always stubborn and he knew it very well. "I can't stay by your side." murmured. "I can't watch you kill yourself."

She felt her eyes fill with tears, for being stupid to have believed that he was back for good and for losing him again, unable to do anything to stop it.

"Did you come back after so long for this?"

She let go of his grip so that could completely move away from his extremely comforting touch. She didn't know if she would control herself if he continued to hold her so close to him, so close that she could feel his body heat.

And he just let his hands fall to his sides, he didn't even struggle to maintain contact.

"I won't say I'm surprised." lifted her chin as spoke. "I think you got used to leaving me anyway but don't worry, I can take care of myself and the case at the same time. Goodbye, Jung."

She turned her back on him and got out of there as fast as her heels would allow.

She would get concrete evidence of what believed. It was a promise.

And she didn't care if the person she trusted most in life had abandoned her before he even finally came back.

At least that would be what she would repeat until convinced herself. [...] Three victims in a single day, always in the cold dawn and none of them had even a drop of blood in their body.

Things in common: marks on the wrist or neck. It was so obvious it was terrifying.

She didn't believe in horror stories or about mythical creatures, it's true, but she couldn't ignore all the facts that came to the same explanation.

A vampire was loose in the city. Y/N's father didn't tell her about this kind of thing but he was smart enough to leave his diaries within her reach, in which said that he knew that one day this would happen and that humans would have to demand courage from themselves if they wanted to survive this kind of thing.

The apocalypse.

Her parents were born in Serbia, they knew the rumors of creatures of the night feeding on human blood, it was one of the reasons they fled to Romania, while her mother carried Y/N in her womb.

Both died in a mysterious and still uncertain way just over eight years ago.

She became an orphan, rich and completely cold that same dark day she received the news, still a naive girl. She would have given herself over to the darkness if not for Wooyoung, her best friend and her only family left. After discovering her father's diaries, she was sure that he and her mother had been killed by some creature from the shadows. She just couldn't prove it.

With a thirst for revenge to find the culprits, Y/N became a true warrior in secret, at the same time knowing everything she could about vampires. Everything her father had left in his diaries had helped her, it had been the beginning of her era as an investigator.

She didn't do it for the money, did it because felt like she was closer to finding her parents' killers.

A private investigator who was actually a vampire slayer, taking care of weird, unsolved murders was pretty satisfying and it brought her closer to the truth, that's what she felt. Although she was still frustrated since the creature was so smart, it was so hard to find something to back up her words. She needed more than her father's stories. "Miss Y/L/N, would you like anything else before you go to bed?" Addy subtly entered the room she was in.

She had barely noticed her arrival, with so much going on her mind. "No, I'm fine, thank you very much. Notify everyone to end their services for today."

She put the diary that was reading in the drawer of the furniture next to her bed. "Yes, ma'am. Have a good night." “Equally for you.”

Addy left and Y/N took off her robe, after blowing out the candles, leaving only one lit.

Y/N lay down on her bed and her mind felt like it would explode from so many things that came and went.

She couldn't understand why Wooyoung had even left, let alone why he had suddenly returned. She believed his words, though he wasn't specific about what had drawn him back, but she needed more. She wanted to know how he was doing, what he'd been up to, where he'd been. She didn't imagine how many minutes or hours had passed, but when was almost asleep, she heard some noises and a muffled scream outside the house.

Dread settled through her body at the exact moment she faced the dark room, feeling her heart beat faster.

She would be exaggerating if she thought that maybe her house was being broken into at this time of night.

But the servants had already gone to sleep as she had ordered, the house was dark and her legs were shaking even though was lying in bed. A while ago she would just kneel beside the bed and pray it was just her imagination, only today it wasn't like that anymore.

That's why she dared to get out of bed, quickly put on her shoes, pick up the holder in which the only candle was lit, and left her room after taking a deep breath. Y/N tried not to get carried away by the darkness that her house was or by the terrifying silence. Walked through the house in large but cautious steps and she hadn't found anything unusual inside.

So she had to work up the courage to go through the main door and go to the gardens behind the house. With each step Y/N took, felt her heart beat even faster and her blood started to freeze. Everything was dark, her eyes couldn't stop staring at every square meter of the extensive garden. Sudden fear gripped her as saw a body thrown over the high gate's spear and the bloodstains on the ground. The white skin was full of red marks and one in particular caught her attention, on the victim's neck hovering the same mark as other murders.

She was in shock for long minutes and when regained consciousness again, she dropped the candle near her feet and started walking backwards, unable to scream or look away from that horrendous image.

The blood was still warm and gushing onto the floor, the lifeless body was different from the victims she had seen. Because that blood was a message for her.

She didn't need any other messages to understand.

Her instincts seemed frozen and slowly came back to tell her what to do, because the killer was probably nearby.

Run away. Find a wooden stake and bury it in the chest of the first person that appears.

She ended up stumbling over her own feet and the terror came stronger than the thud when she fell to the ground. Y/N got up already trying to get away from there and ask for help however she ended up being held tightly by the arms. She prepared to scream for Addy or anyone else to hear but as soon as she took a deep breath, stared into the face of the person holding her.

Wooyoung. Her heart was still beating fast, seeing him there made it start to regain the air she had lost. "Y/N, why are you here alone?" Asked low and she just shook her head without being able to say anything. All she could feel was her heart beating too fast, it hurt. "What happened? You're pale." The only explanation Y/N could come up with was pointing her finger backwards, he looked at the spot of her terror and his face grew serious, she could see he had locked his jaw holding his breath.

"You need to get out of here, I think you've seen too much for one night." he seemed to contain his anger, his tone was far from calm, and she nodded in agreement.

Y/N let herself be carried away by him, even forgetting that they were actually apart, she didn't dare to look back. Something told her that tomorrow would be a very long day.

[...] "The police are already at the scene taking the body, the employees are terrified and I took something to put it in your hand." Wooyoung sat next to her on the bed and Y/N continued with her head down. "I said I didn't need it, it's okay." Her voice was choked, no wonder since she couldn't do anything but cry when walked in the main door after the adrenaline had worn off..

She was used to seeing victims in much worse situations but that scene wouldn't get out of her head for an obvious reason: it had been on purpose.

The killer knew who she was, it was clear.

She was lucky that Wooyoung was there, he didn't seem desperate and that helped her to at least calm down a little. As always was. "Be still for a moment." He took her hand and started to pass the wet cloth all over the place that had hurt because of the fall, only when he forced her skin that she knew it was hurting.

Wooyoung was cleaning the wound carefully but his forehead was furrowed and his nose seemed to be being forced not to breathe that air. "I didn't know you were sensitive to the scent of blood." She commented and he looked up at her at the same time. "It's not something very important to know." He shrugged and finished cleaning her wound, placed the bowl of water on top of the furniture next to her bed and returned to face Y/N.

"Everything about you is important to me." declared, holding the gaze. When Wooyoung looked at her in that intense way it reminded her of the feelings for him she should have buried a long time ago but would always be there, lying dormant waiting for him.

Wooyoung understood Y/N since forever, they knew each other even before she became an orphan.

One day, he was sleeping under the snow in the same gardens of her parents' house and the other day, Y/N's parents gave shelter to the boy who did various tasks in the house in exchange for food and clothes.

Because they were the same age, they became inseparable. Y/N didn't care if he was a servant, he was the only friend she could play with when she wasn't studying.

She and Wooyoung liked to play that they were warriors, they played with wooden swords.

Little did she know that one day she would use that sword in real life.

He was her first friend and first crush, and also her first kiss. In fact, couldn't remember anyone other than him being her first at anything.

It was weird being close to him but at the same time being so far away, at least in the way she really wanted to be. She hated to admit it but deep down knew she had never forgotten what they left in the past. An impossible and secret love. "I'm sorry I fought with you." he said lowly, making her shiver from head to toe. "I'm sorry too." she sighed. "You could have come here earlier, this house is as much yours as it is mine. Maybe nothing would have happened tonight if you were here."

"Y/N." He leaned closer and touched her cheek gently.

"Why did you come back? Truly." she just needed an answer or else it would consume her alive.

He didn't take his eyes off her and Y/N was mesmerized to have him so close after so long, just one touch and it would literally throw her into his arms.

She knew it was what both needed. A simple touch. Wooyoung touched his lips to hers at the same moment a lightning cut the sky, illuminating his face and making her sigh as quickly noticed his dark eyes look hungry, before closing her eyes completely and giving herself away.

It wasn't many times that she was in his arms but each time he was very gentle, almost as if he was afraid of breaking her. But now, the way his lips sought hers in such an ungentlemanly way, it was almost animalistic.

It was surprising when he held her waist tightly and deepened the kiss, their tongues meeting for the first time. She grabbed his hair afraid that his momentary boldness wouldn’t last and he would be cautious again. She kissed him with all the desire she felt, without fear of regretting it later.

His lips were warm and soft, driving her crazy. That wasn't the kind of kiss they gave, it didn't have the childlike innocence of before.

Wooyoung knew how to move his lips and tongue sensually and slowly. Another lightning in the sky and Y/N heard a grunt, Wooyoung held her tighter and leaned over her. She had to break the kiss to catch her breath and he didn't stop there, he kissed down her chin and neck, making her skin shiver.

Y/N had to bite her already swollen lip to hold back her moan as she felt wet kisses trail across her skin.

She thought he was going to go down a little more, because she didn’t want to stop, in her wildest dreams she had been in his arms without any barriers, that was where she became his. Only in her dreams. But he held his breath and moved away so fast that she could barely keep up. Y/N was going to ask what had happened but a knock on the door undid all that moment, she didn't know whether to look at Wooyoung who now kept his face turned to the side or to tell the person to come in. She sat on the bed and straightened up so no one wouldn't notice that something had happened, Y/N asked them to come in and Addy came to her quickly. "The sheriff wishes to speak with you." She warned and Y/N took a deep breath before nodding.

The last person she wanted to see was him. "Thank you, Addy." she got up from the bed, legs a little bit weak, avoiding looking at Wooyoung who seemed to be embarrassed.

Well, it was his fault that she was weak and horny.

She put on her robe and Wooyoung stood beside her, now maintaining a serious posture.

Was he doing this to confuse her? Wooyoung noticed that Y/N hadn't understood his gesture and decided to quickly explain. "I wouldn't leave you alone with that man." Wooyoung never liked the sheriff and the feeling seemed to be mutual. That old man had been in town longer than she and Wooyoung could count, and what on the surface seemed like just a rowdy children's tantrum became more when they both grew up.

No matter how much time passed, Wooyoung still didn't like the sheriff.

But that night, Y/N was thankful for it. She felt protected when was around him and this was how she needed to feel when she was in front of the sheriff. She smiled knowingly at him, as the memories washed over her, he tried to reciprocate but it was sad and he looked away too quickly. She sighed and retraced her path, which was now lit differently from earlier. She arrived at the garden still a little apprehensive, the police chief had the man by his side and they were speaking in low voices.

It seemed she wasn't the only one with secrets. "Miss Y/L/N, can you give me your statement about what really happened here?" the sheriff asked with a certain arrogance and she had to control herself not to be rude, he deserved it anyway. "I don't know what happened, I was getting ready to sleep at the time." "And how did you end up out here exactly?" she noticed that he looked Wooyoung up and down with his petulance standing out in his ego. "I heard a scream and decided to see what it was, after all it could have been one of my employees." Y/N crossed her arms, hating having to explain to him that he wouldn't even look at her. "Did you find no trace of the killer?" "No." "That’s what I need." he left quickly, being followed by the man, without even thanking her or questioning in a more intense way.

What was that?

Y/N glanced at Wooyoung as soon as saw the sheriff's silhouette walk away from her garden. "That was very strange, he didn't even insist." commented and stared at Wooyoung, it looked like he was holding back from saying what he was really thinking. "What's it?" she asked, curious.

He was never this quiet. "We need to talk about what happened." His serious expression took her by surprise.

She had just been interrogated, what else did he want to know? "How about later?"

When she catches her breath from seeing a body hanging in her garden, to be precise. "One day we'll have to talk about this, Y/N." He touched her chin and made her lift her head to look into his eyes. She frowned, still not understanding. "It wasn't a good idea to kiss you after the panic you went through, I apologize for invading your space."

What was he talking about? "What?"

Oh, that was the conversation they would have. "It was a terrible mistake on my part, I'm so sorry." He moved away and Y/N felt her jaw drop. "It won't happen again." Wooyoung passed in front of her and she hurried to stop in front of him. "Are you testing me, Wooyoung?" she questioned, completely confused. "Pardon?" "You come back, then fight with me, leave again, come back here, kiss me after so long and now you say it was a mistake. What do you want after all?" She was tired of it. "Do not blame my vulnerability, I wanted as much as you."

Truth be told, dear Wooyoung. "Do not say that." asked low, closing his eyes for a moment. "I will no longer hide my feelings, I will no longer lie to you. Not anymore." she held his face, making him open his eyes and stare at her steadily."I wish I hadn't loved you again but I did and I don't regret it."

He was silent and she couldn't contain herself, daringly she touched her lips to his once more, in a soft and simple touch.

Y/N didn't prolong the kiss for a long time, she knew it could make things worse, pulled away from him but not before saying one last thing. "I hope you can handle this, Wooyoung, or else you know where it will lead us."

She got out of there as quickly as possible and had to stop herself from looking back or else she would kiss him again. And again. And again until she wouldn't be able to stop. [...] "Are you sure you'll be okay?” Addy asked as soon as she put her feet out of the house. “Of course. You need to visit your family, Addy, the weekend will do you all good.” Y/N smiled at her.

A break for the employees was a good idea, to make them forget the trauma of the murder in the garden while Y/N drank herself to sleep. “But I can ask Joseph to stay here if you need anything.” she would really insist on that option. "I just need you to get into the carriage and let him take you home. It's two days, what could happen?” she asked and Addy stayed quiet. “Remember that I can take care of myself, that will calm you down.” she agreed and hugged Y/N. She more than anyone didn't mind showing the affection she had for the employees, after all, she had practically been raised by them after her parents' death.

“Take care of yourself.” Addy said goodbye and walked to the carriage, Y/N waited at the door until lost sight of her. After what happened at her house, Y/N decided to give all employees the weekend off. She was hoping to spend the two days with Wooyoung, they hadn't arranged anything but she figured if he saw the movement then maybe he could show up. Well, actually spending time with him wasn't the only thing that motivated her. Now lucid, she could retrace the killer's trail, they always leave traces. She had some acquaintances in London she could ask for help, or even Seonghwa who knew a lot of people from his pirate days. Giving up, as Wooyoung had asked her to do, was not an option. She just couldn't keep doing her job in this town, for now. Not when the sheriff seemed determined to derail her investigation. She might even go back to training, she had some favors to call in on some friends.

The night had already fallen and it had brought heavy rain, she loved the rain but on that day in particular it was a bit scary. She was still a little vulnerable with everything that had happened over the past few days, the empty, dark house had never felt so big for her to be alone. Y/N looked at the tray that held the wine and two glasses she had set aside. Hopeful? Deluded? She didn't know why but she laughed as she got up to help herself. Of course he wasn't going to show up.

She had barely taken a sip and her head was spinning just thinking about Wooyoung. In the time he was away, she tried to distract herself with other men. After all, she couldn't wait for him forever. But it was always in vain because it was her eyes that she saw around the corners.

Sometimes she even seemed to have seen his figure on the street or elsewhere, but it was nothing more than an illusion because the moment she blinked he was no longer there.

Leaving a tightness in the heart and a desire to cry that was always supplied by alcohol.

Just like now, she tried to drown her feelings in the wine while trying not to think too much about him, how much she missed him and how much that kiss had affected her. She had known a less angelic side of Wooyoung, and it would be a lie to say that she was no longer interested in the boy. Because she was.

She liked how sweet and happy he was, but knowing that he too was shrouded in mysterious darkness drew her even closer. Well, after all, she hunted monsters.

It seemed hypocritical but she was attracted precisely by the unknown in Wooyoung.

She wanted to dig deeper, find out more why and how he had become so secretive. He had a reason, didn't he? She was already on her second glass of wine when heard a noise coming from the stairs. She even thought about ignoring it, but footsteps could be heard on the top floor of the house, so she set the goblet aside and stopped where she was.

She had ordered all the servants out of the house so no one was there with her. Was her head then starting to create illusions?

She got up from the couch, feeling her heart beat so fast that the corset she was wearing was hurting her ribs. Slowly and very carefully, she went to the front of the stairs and stopped there, straining her eyes to see better since everything was nothing but pitch black. Lightning cut through the sky, illuminating the place and showing that there was nothing, the noise was loud enough for her to jump with her hands on her chest that rose uncontrollably. She let out the breath she'd been holding, feeling weak for being overwhelmed by the darkness.

That was the alcohol making her relive that night all over again. That was why the trip seemed like the best option for her.

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned to go back to her whine, that was her night of drinking herself out. However, she couldn't make the journey back because her body paralyzed when saw a person a few meters away looking at her as if she were prey.

It could be another illusion, must have been, but when she realized that it was the creature she was looking for so long a shiver ran through her entire body, suddenly all the cold weather took over the house and she could hear the wind blowing in her ears.

“Good night, Miss.” he asked and Y/N could see his sharp teeth however she didn't dare to give him any answer, in her head, was already looking for a weapon to protect herself. “Sorry to come unannounced but I think we have some things to work out.” She took a few steps back when he threatened to walk towards her.

She held her breath, trying through her peripheral vision to find something sharp to shove down the throat of the person in front of her.

“Well, Miss Y/L/N, you don't need to be afraid of me, you know very well who I am.” He took off the hood he wore and her jaw dropped, surprised. “Or do you need to?” He smirked and remained silent.

It all started to make sense so quickly that Y/N's head started to spin and it wasn't just from the alcohol. Wooyoung asked her to leave the case because knew that it would hurt her. The body in her gates, the unexplained confusion when she tried to talk to alleged witnesses, the fact that the police were always one step ahead of her in their investigations. “It was you all along.” she said aloud, connecting all the evidence.

How foolish she was.

“Exactly.” He shrugged and took a step in her direction.

“Was the death near the police station on purpose or did you simply forget to hide the body?” she asked, trying to buy time. She had a dagger in the next room, she was near the door, and could run to get it.

“I confess it was an accident, unlike the body I placed at the gates of your home.” he confessed and snorted. “You don't think I'd leave a body next to my station on purpose, do you?” she was silent and he laughed. “Don't be stupid, it made me have to move forward with this case and it didn't help me at all.”

“But you managed to hide it very well, Sheriff West.” she said ironically.

“And I will continue to hide, do not think that I came to confess and then leave, letting you live.” he threatened and took a step forward, making her on alert. “It's a shame to have to kill a woman as beautiful as you, Y/L/N, but I have no choice.” she took it as an opportunity to get closer to the room and if she stretched out her hands she could open the door. “Don't worry, I took care of everything.” as he said that, Y/N stared at him in confusion and heard a loud noise of glass breaking and she looked up instantly.

The entire ceiling of her house, which was beautifully crafted with the most beautiful glass in the city, had shattered into thousands of pieces and few vampires had touched the ground within seconds.

She only had time to stare at the wet creatures as they snarled at her.

The first one who attacked came running with his mouth open and hands with huge nails out in front of him, she took the opportunity to throw herself against the door of the room, which opened with a loud thud and she fell to the floor. Y/N reached out to grab the dagger from the table and at the same moment the creature appeared, throwing itself at her, which plunged the dagger into the vampire's chest without any hesitation before he sank his sharp teeth into her skin. The animalistic growls stopped when she turned the dagger inside the vampire's chest and in a short time the body fell.

On top of it he pushed it to the side, seeing the pale gray vampire's body. She wasted no time looking for another weapon, her eyes found a wooden cross, her father's relic, on the wall and she didn't think twice before pulling it out. She had been training her whole life for this moment and she wasn't going to die without even a fight.

She left the room and saw that they were waiting for her, the heavy rain falling through the broken window wetted Y/N and she had to hold the cross tighter.

This time, two vampires came towards her and stopped as soon as she raised the weapon, they looked at each other and when they looked back at her, their fangs were already out. Well, the myth wasn't true then, it would be otherwise.

Y/N stuck the cross in the stomach of one of them and the other pulled her back with force, making her practically fly to the ground, she ended up hitting her head but still dizzy, she managed to pull herself back with her elbows.

Y/N's now soaked hair obscured her vision and when she pulled away from her face, she saw the vampire pull the cross from his stomach and the blood spilled onto her floor.

“Eww.” she said involuntarily and the two attacked her at the same time. She tried to protect her body, putting her arms in front of her body and felt sharp nails scratch her arms, cutting the fabric of her dress, before she could even fight for real, strong hands held her by the neck, lifting her off the ground and squeezing her until it became difficult to breathe. She watched as the other vampire, the one she'd hit with the cross, approached with sharp teeth and she was sure this was how her life would end. Everything happened faster than the blink of an eye, suddenly the hand that was suffocating her was no longer holding her and Y/N fell to the ground at the same moment that the body of one of the vampires fell beside her, already lifeless and with a broken neck.

On the other side, before she could understand what had happened, the other vampire fell with a hole in his chest, heartless.

Y/N followed her gaze to the figure that was standing in front of her, holding the dead vampire's heart, and she felt her whole body shiver at the sight of her savior.

Wooyoung.

No, that could only be another illusion. Wooyoung couldn't be there. He was breathing heavily as Y/N's jaw dropped and looked confused, he threw the heart he held as if it was nothing and extended a blood stained hand towards Y/N.

She wasn't undecided whether to accept it or not but she was so surprised that it took her a while to hold Wooyoung's hand, she felt the warm palm and she didn't know if it was because of the fresh blood on his hands or if it was his own heat. “That's so typical.” Sheriff West spoke loudly and she looked into Wooyoung' eyes, they seemed way darker than before. “Pathetic.” against her will, she looked at the sheriff who had removed the overcoat he wore, his look devilish and angry. “I'll kill you both” he shouted and came to attack them.

Y/N couldn't follow what happened next, in one moment Wooyoung was in front of her and in the next the sheriff was blocked by him and the next second, the two collided against the wall on the other side and a hole was made there. Wooyoung was holding the sheriff's neck who had his eyes completely black and his fangs out, he grunted trying to get out of there and get some advantage against Wooyoung. She didn't know how he was managing to get the sheriff pinned against the wall.

“Come on, show her who you really are.” Sheriff spoke and Y/N remained paralyzed. What was he talking about? “Don't you know, Y/L/N? Have you ever seen your love the way he is?” he asked her, though he didn't take his black eyes off Wooyoung. “After I kill you, I will suck the blood and kill her slowly, exactly the way I did with her father.” Wooyoung grabbed him by his clothes and threw him to the ground with such force that she felt the house shake, he growled like an animal and when Y/N looked at his face saw two fangs. No, it couldn't be...

Wooyoung somehow seemed to be stronger than the sheriff and Y/N took the advantage to run to the stairs, opening a trapdoor that held more weapons. She didn't know what was making her think so fast, maybe it was the adrenaline, and she started to load the gun with ammo. Special ammunition, silver bullets. Y/N turned to face them as her fingers moved as quickly as she could, and she saw when Wooyoung now had his neck grabbed by the sheriff, who somehow managed to turn around and kneel on top of Wooyoung. That made her activate the gun and shoot at the sheriff, ended up hitting his arm and he got up, getting off Wooyoung, before he could say anything he closed his eyes and grunted loudly. So this myth was true...

“You know, sheriff, I went after myths about your species and I would like to try it with the murderer of the city.” Y/N shot him again, this time in his leg and he fell to the ground away from Wooyoung, he looked at her with pure hate. “I didn't believe that silver was your weakness.”another shot, on his stomach. He was still, squirming as if the bullets were burning him inside, and maybe they were. “No justice would be enough to punish you properly, so think about your sins…” She approached him, placing the gun on his chest and felt Wooyoung approach her and the sheriff showed his fangs. “...in hell.” she said before shooting him in the heart. The sheriff widened his eyes and fell to his knees, tried to raise his hand to hold Y/N but she just slammed the gun into his arm, making him fall to the ground while grunting in pain and losing his color. It was a matter of seconds before he lost his life right there on the ground while Y/N looked at him in disgust. Wooyoung didn't say anything, he just approached the sheriff's body and put both hands on his neck, she kept looking and watched as he snapped the sheriff's neck and took his head off. Y/N looked away, feeling her stomach lurch, and the gun dropped from under her feet as she tried not to think about what had just happened. Blood, pieces of glass, bodies, pieces of vampires were scattered around her house while the heavy rain was still falling on her and Wooyoung. The only survivors of the attack.

She felt his hand on her arm in a touch so soft it felt out of place. she shivered again when his fingers traced the cut she had on her arm and, unable to resist, turned her face to look into his eyes. The eyes were still dark but filled with guilt.

“Y/N.” he whispered

“When were you planning to tell me?” she asked directly, tired of secrets between them.

“Actually, I didn't plan to.” he was sincere and she crossed my arms, looking away from him. “I love you.” confessed and Y/N paralyzed again. “So much that it hurts my heart.” He grabbed her chin and made her look into his eyes. For her to find the truth in them. “You're in constant danger if we stay close and I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“What do you mean?” she knew very well what he meant but she didn't want to accept it.

"I can't afford this" He pointed to the bodies. “happens again, I won't always be in time to save you.” She wanted to scream that she didn't want to be saved but that would be a lie because she wanted to live, enough to be by his side.

“You will leave again.” she guessed and he nodded. “At least now you know why I'm leaving this time.” he caressed her face, staring at every inch as if he wanted to memorize every detail. “I won't be able to say anything to change your mind.” it was not a question. “I'm thinking what's best for you. You deserve to be happy and I'm rooting for that.” He tried to smile but ended up failing.

“I love you.” she whispered, already with tears in her eyes. “I always did!” “I know.” He got even closer to her face and his lip gently touched hers, to then start their last kiss. Y/N could still feel his fangs against her lips and Wooyoung tasted like blood but none of that mattered because the way he was kissing her was clearly making her forget about what happened a few minutes ago. It was intense, full of feelings they both now knew were mutual, and also fraught with pain. For leaving, for not being able to live what they wanted. He held her face firmly one last time and broke the kiss, touching their foreheads while YN refused to open her eyes but she felt that he was staring at her intensely. She didn't want to say goodbye. “Don’t go, please.” She heard Wooyoung sigh but the contact had been lost and desperate, she opened her eyes to find him already climbing through the broken ceiling. He even stopped one last time to look at her from above and she pleaded with her eyes but he just left at the same time that lightning appeared in the sky.

After the sudden light, there she was back to darkness. But with her duty done.

[...]

“Tell me, Y/L/N, are the rumors true?” she straightened her spine on the chair was sitting on, the clothes she was wearing weren't so comfortable but it was effective.

“That I became a hunter? You weren't supposed to know about this.” she complained. “I know more than anyone realizes.” She went silent for a while, if the rumors were already getting to him then probably whoever she wanted to know about her current situation was also aware.

“That's exactly why I'm here. I need you to track someone down.”

“Wooyoung.” said simply. No one was surprised, not even the underworld creatures.

“Exactly.” Honjoong folded his hands on top of the large desk in his office. He was a vampire, his scent was better than any of the creatures, he was trustworthy. It could help her find Wooyoung. It was amazing how she now found herself surrounded by creatures of the night.

“I think you should know who you're dealing with.” he said, making her raise an eyebrow. “Y/L/N, never wondered where he came from?”

She shrugged. Nobody knew where Wooyoung came from, not even her parents.

“Do you know his last name?”

“He didn't have any so my parents named him Jung.” “Well, do you know the meaning of this name?” She denied with her head. Should she know? “Means, it is the connection between two people that cannot be severed.” “I believe you are telling me this because it is important.” “After a lot of research, I found out that he actually has a strong connection with the Tepes family.” Honjoong smiled, a little murky for her. “ You know who else was called that? Vlad III.”

“The Impaler?” she asked and he agreed. ”The famous prince of Wallachia who is the hero of this nation?” “Did you know that Vlad had a son?” Honjoong got up from his chair and walked around the office. “Mihnea, the Bad.” she followed him with her eyes. “He did not have a very happy reign, nor was he as loved as Vlad, so much so that he abdicated the throne to his son.” “Vlad had a grandson, who was hidden from the world for fear of retaliation. With Mihnea's fame, it was only natural that they would. The child grew up with a curse.” She paid attention, although she didn't really believe in curses, knew that supposedly magical things happen around the world. “At 18 he would become as cold, perverse and scary as his grandfather. His lust for blood and atrocities would be far greater than any other Tepes.” Memories of the night Wooyoung saved her and killed all those vampires returned.

“Are you saying that Wooyoung is the lost grandson of Count Vlad?” her heart believed in that fantasy but reason still brought her back to reality.

Honjoong nodded, putting his arms behind him. “The only living descendant. Vlad's family is very well known and even admired by us.”

“So the rumors were true. Vlad was a vampire.”

“The first of the first.” Honjoong took a step towards her and Y/N glared at him. “So I must warn you, Y/L/N, you are not dealing with any vampire. It's a Tepes.” “I'm not afraid of him.” she admitted. Quite the contrary, actually, she loved him and was willing to find him. “That's not what worries me.”He took a deep breath before continuing. "Y/N," he knelt down in front of her, making her worried. He rarely called her by name. “Wooyoung has many doubts, he grew up without his family, being the monster he was in the times that he was away from you. I strongly believe that you were the only light the poor boy found in his entire existence. So I warn you, if you enter this world of darkness... you won't be able to get out.” “You know where he is.” “I told you the family is known.” “Be more clear, Honjoong.” she asked, tired of it. “Your beloved Wooyoung is coming for Vlad.” She was paralyzed. Impossible. “Vlad was beheaded in combat with the Turks, his head was displayed in Constantinople.” she said in disbelief. It was simply impossible. “That’s what they say, you know there are three versions of Vlad's death. I assure you, they killed the wrong man.” “What are you trying to tell me, that Vlad is alive?” he nodded and Y/N was petrified. She considered getting up from the chair but didn't have the strength in her legs after listening to all that. “Where is he?” she questioned. Honjoong rose silently, turning his back to her. He didn't say a word. “Honjoong…” she gathered strength and started to get up from the chair, approaching the young man who insisted on ignoring her question. “Where is he?” she said more firmly this time. “Paris, with the help of a witch to find his grandfather.” replied low. She stopped to think for a moment, was more confused than before. “Why would you go to Paris?” she asked herself. Honjoong turned back to her and took her left arm with unusual gentleness. “If they find Dracula, they will try to fulfill the prophecy.” she raised an eyebrow. What prophecy? “Vlad will take what is rightfully his, spilling the blood of his enemies and turn everything to ashes, making the world safe for creatures of the night..” She looked into Honjoong's eyes. My God… “Then it is to Paris that we will go.”

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