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acourtofsnakes · 2 years

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Darkness At The Heart Of My Love, Chapter 2 | Kas!Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie struggles with a new discovery, torn between the urges of the heart, and the urges of his body.

Warnings: 18+ for blood, mild gore/animal death, feelings of hopelessness, and desperation, swearing, biting, fangs, anxiety, lil bit of blood drinking, female reader, possible season 5 theory spoilers? Kissing, make-outs - let me know if i forgot anything!!

Words: 13k+ - she's a long one

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis @queenofthefaceless @gallowsjoker @kirsteng42 @rosiefridayrogersunday @salome-c @amywritesthings @meganlpie @sgt-morgan @starryeyedstories @pumpkin-stars

Playlist | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Chapter song: Darkness At The Heart Of My Love - Ghost

*~”When the summer dies

Severing the ties

I'm with you always, always”~*

Eddie Munson was no stranger to pain.

It had been a companion since he was a child, when his father’s fists would rain down on him, punctuated by vile words that wormed under his skin and stayed hooked in the back of his mind forever.

He knew many kinds of pain.

The verbal pain from that man who was supposed to protect him, the sniggered remarks and disgusted comments by the other kids that he walked past in the hallways.

“Look at him. Eddie the freak.”

“Is it true that he has a cult? Who’d wanna follow him? Weirdos, that’s who. Maybe they’re only there for the drugs.”

There were the other kinds of physical pain, at the hands of his classmates as they cornered him after school. He’d long since given up fighting back, realising quickly if he gave in, they’d eventually get bored and leave him there. He could pick himself up, limp home and get rid of the blood before it stained his beloved jacket, and his uncle could question it.

But this was… different.

This was pain mixed with terror, mixed with longing and the petrifying realisation that this was it. The end. This wasn’t a critical hit that meant you were gone just for the campaign, this was final.

The agonising bites of those foul bats, the stench of their breath as they swarmed him… but it was okay, because he was doing his job. Right?

He was being the distraction. He was drawing them away so they wouldn’t come for you all. Just as he was meant to.

Eddie the Banished wasn’t retreating. He ran to the danger and… Was he finally a hero? He hoped he was.

He pretended not to care that he was seen as someone who ran, that it didn’t bother him but… not so deep down, he just wanted to be seen as something good for once.

Someone worth remembering.

So this pain, he could deal with. He was already starting to go numb anyway.

But then he heard footsteps.

Then he heard voices screaming his name.

Dustin’s voice.

Your voice.

He’d been too weak to be able to lift his head, his body burning like he’d been doused in kerosene, but at the same time he felt so cold. And it was agonising because he wanted to see you, to comfort you, to tell you it was okay and that he’d saved you.

And you’d promised, you’d promised you wouldn’t come back for him, that you’d get yourself safe.

But… God, he knew. He knew you wouldn’t keep it and selfishly, cruelly... He hoped you wouldn’t.

And that was the vilest thing he’d ever thought, but Eddie was selfish when it came to you. He would do anything for you, no matter the consequences and he didn’t want to leave this world without you at his side. He didn’t want to leave you alone, like he always had been.

Then you were suddenly at his side, your hands frantically pushing at his clothes, his skin, icy cold fingers pushing at his neck, and he heard your broken sob when his heart flickered only weakly in response.

The blurriness cleared from his vision, granting him the sight of your beautiful, precious face twisted on terror and agony.

Your eyes held the vicious truth that not everyone was making it out of here.

That he’d broken his promise to never leave your side and to always be there to make you smile.

And then he was fucking terrified, and it hurt like nothing else he’d ever felt before.

Eddie Munson was going to break his promise and tear your heart out in the process.

He was hurting you, and he swore he would never do that. Never be his father, never be like those vile exes you’d been with.

And here he was, fucking up again.

Not to mention how the tears on your face sharpened his mind with a sickening clarity that left his rasping lungs even more breathless - he was going to die.

He was going to die and he didn’t want to.

Maybe he had before, maybe there was a time where this would have been a welcome reprieve, an escape from pretending nothing got to him but then he’d met you and that had all changed.

Now Eddie wanted that future he’d never thought he’d get. He wanted late night movie marathons and scaring each other with Ghostface masks.

He wanted sleepy mornings where neither of you wanted to get out of bed and instead stayed there all day.

He wanted to get down on one knee, propose with a ring he couldn’t afford but you deserved, and he wanted to make you happy.

He wanted to be happy.

He wanted to learn you, more than he already knew, the little quirks you’d develop, and he’d adore with every year that went by.

Eddie wanted a future with you, the one person he loved more than anything in this planet, in this universe… and he wasn’t going to get it.

He was going to leave you, alone, scared, grieving… And he wasn’t going to be there to comfort you.

And that hurt more than his torn flesh, his broken bones and the promises bleeding out of his body, through your fingers and onto dusty floor.

“Don’t you dare leave me, Eddie. I won’t let you.” Your hands clung to him, cradling his head in your arms as Dustin’s face swam into view on his other side, supporting his body too.

He wouldn’t get to tell you every day how much he loved you and watch your eyes soften, that soft, beautiful colour rise on your cheeks like it was the first time he uttered those words even though it was more like the millionth.

Yet the thought of you mourning him, of plunging into darkness and being swallowed whole… Fuck, that hurt more than the gouges on his body, the blood and life seeping out of him. You burned so brightly, so fiercely and he couldn’t bear the idea of that light going out.

He wanted you to be happy. And he wouldn’t be able to give you that gift himself, but he wanted it for you all the same.

Eddie tried to lift a hand to your face, but he couldn’t seem to get his limbs to work. They wouldn’t respond, just numb fire attached to his body. But somehow, he could reach your hand, through sheer force of will he moved his own a few inches across his torso - it petrified him that the blood helped that action, “Don’t lose yourself for me, sweetheart. Don’t throw your life away for me. Remember that I love you, fuck, I love you so much and I won’t ever forget any of this, from the moment I met you and you made me realise the real world wasn’t so shitty. Remember that, and promise me that you’ll try and be happy, that you’ll live all those dreams we talked about.”

He watched as the realisation bloomed in your eyes, the knowledge that out of the three of you here, only two would make it back alive. Then he watched as sheer stubbornness and refusal tightened your features, tears flooding your skin, “Eddie…” You parted your lips, the lips he’d kissed and caressed and dreamt about so many times.

He blinked rapidly, tears spilling from his own eyes and doing nothing to help the blurriness rapidly filling his vision, the shadowy darkness lingering at the edges. He could feel every struggling beat of his heart, like a ticking countdown in his chest.

But he didn’t want to scare you, not any more than you already were, so he merely gripped your hand as tight as he possibly could, knowing he was coating your fingers in blood, but this was important. He had to know you’d be okay eventually, that you’d find happiness somewhere at least. “Please, sweetheart…”

The devastation shattered over your face, and he saw the cracks beginning to form already, almost swore he heard your heart break as his own slowed to a near crawl, “Okay, I promise.” A sob broke your throat, fresh tears flossing your cheeks and you gripped him tighter to your body, Dustin pressed close to your side to help support him.

He turned his gaze to Dustin now, the boys’ wild curls a blurring mass against the dark sky, “I love you, man.” The kid had to know that, how much he meant to Eddie, the fact he was the only other person, aside from you, who saw him as… Eddie. Not the Freak. Not the weirdo, or the murderer. Eddie.

Dustin sobbed too, his face all torn up in grief, eyes shining with the force of his tears, and he tried a smile, “I love you too.” His boyish face seemed so young, so lost and it killed Eddie to see him like that, to know he was the reason why.

Eddie looked between his eyes, well, where he thought Dustin’s eyes were. “You gotta take care of all those lost sheep, okay? They need you now.” He nodded once to Dustin… or maybe he just thought he did. He couldn’t really feel his body anymore.

When Dustin nodded quickly in response, too overcome to speak, Eddie finally looked back at you. And Eddie didn’t believe in angels, but the second his eyes landed on you, the blurriness cleared. The scarlet lightning merely framed you like a halo, the blood and dirt on your face merely marking you as his warrior, his fierce soulmate who would - and had - literally fought through Hell to get to the people she loved.

Even the tears streaming from his eyes couldn’t disturb the clarity of you, and it was a sight that bought him peace.

He summoned one final ounce of strength, one final strong pulse of his heart to push his guitar pick into your hand, curling your bloody fingers around it, “Take care of my sweetheart, sweetheart. She’s yours now. I love you, more than anything. Thank you for making me feel like a hero. Your hero.” He gave you one final smile, eyes locked on yours before someone cut that cord and darkness plunged down. His body fell through time and space, dragging his consciousness down too and his hand slipped from yours. That manic, vibrant energy he crackled with had finally gone out.

Eddie Munson was gone.

*~”Will you walk the line?

My path serpentine

Remember always

That love is all you need

Tell me who you wanna be

And I will set you free”~*

Eddie Munson was gone… Except that then he wasn’t.

At least he didn’t think he was.

Because the last thing he expected when the world faded to black, was to wake up in the Upside Down, kneeling in a pool of blood that was rapidly growing with every second.

Except that it wasn’t his blood.

No, it was the thick, black blood of the bat squealing in his hands, it’s dying cries getting weaker and weaker by the second as Eddie’s fangs drained the life from him, like some sick reversal of what had previously happened.

Wait, fangs?!

He dropped the bat, scrambling backwards in the dirt and his stomach roiled, raging like a storm and then he was heaving, pints of that tainted blood spilling from his lips as his mind rejected what his body craved.

Panic flooded every sense, raging loud in his ears, ears which he was certain could hear the squelching ripple of vines far away, permeating his nose with the rotten stench of the place and the even more pungent smell of the bat.

He could feel thick blood coating his hands, ducking his head to look but the world swirled under and over him, that simple movement sending shockwaves through his head, and he collapsed sideways without being able to stop it.

Everything was dialled up to a million, the dim light hammering into his eyes, too many sounds, like his own breathing and his own heart too loud in his ears. He clutched his head, smearing blood all over himself but he didn’t care, couldn’t care because he had no idea what was happening to him.

He was dead. He was supposed to be gone. So how was he back?

Did he seriously manage to fuck up again? He couldn’t even do this right?

It took Eddie a moment to realise the fresh heat on his cheeks came from the tears streaming from his eyes, relentless as he curled into a tighter balm despite the bone deep ache in every part of his body.

His stomach hurt, and his legs… God, his legs were in pure agony.

And his throat, it felt like someone had doused it in kerosene and lit a match. It burned, feeling drier than that time he’d gotten way too high, fallen asleep without drinking anything, and woke up with his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

But you’d been there, emerging from where Wayne had let you in with the biggest glass of water, painkillers and the Lord of The Rings to read to him whilst you nursed him back to health, your hand weaving through his curls and gently rubbing away the headache.

You always took care, even when you were hungover yourself. You’d just curl up together until you felt human enough to find food.

A different kind of pain splintered his chest this time as he remembered your face, how utterly broken you’d looked the last time he’d been coherent. How broken.

He’d done that to you. Made you hurt like that, breaking the promise he made when you first got together.

Guilt plunged through the fear and panic in his mind, choking him and turning the iron taste of blood into something metallic, something horrible.

He whimpered, curling in deeper on himself and he bit at his lower lip, a habit he’d always adopted to bring himself out of bad memories, the pain clearing his mind.

Except where he was usually met with the blunt drag of his teeth, he was now met with a sharp sting and blood. His blood this time.

Impossible… right?

Eddie lifted a shaking hand from his head, slowly bringing it to his mouth and he hesitated for a second, before gently probing his teeth with his thumb.

Yep.

There they were.

Fangs.

Fucking fangs.

What in the Jesus H Christ was going on? He was a vampire? Vampires didn’t exist. Vampires were a fairy-tale, mixed in with horror films and D&D, they didn’t appear in real life.

Eddie blinked a few times, staring unseeingly at the sideways wasteland around him, continually prodding his teeth with his thumb, trying to make sense of this change, this perversion of himself.

Because, despite the utter wrongness of this whole thing, that voice in the back of his head was challenging him.

Why couldn’t they be real?

Vecna was real for God’s sake. The Upside Down was a whole ugly thing, there were vampire bats, so why couldn’t there be actual vampires?

And of course it would happen to him.

Eddie laughed coldly, his throat wrecked and dry, those tears falling harder at the bitter irony of it all. As if he weren’t a freak enough already. Now he had to go and become a vampire.

He couldn’t even die right.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

He answered that for himself, merely curling up tighter into a ball and letting the barrage of thoughts and emotion wash over him, too tired and too sick of himself to even get up.

So he didn’t.

It was thirst that eventually drove Eddie to his feet days later. At least he thought it might have been days. It could have been hours. He really didn’t know… Or care.

Like he was at the mercy of a puppet masters hands, he was dragged out of his defensive position, body screaming in agony, and he began stumbling through the ruined version of home, driven by the horrendous searing burn in his throat.

He didn’t want to do this.

He didn’t want to have to sink his fangs into another living things body and drain it dry. The whole concept of it was just so fucked up, so wrong and he still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

But that was a train of thought he couldn’t go down, because if he did, he would end up on the floor again.

Or driving a stake through his heart. If that even worked.

Eddie shook his head, his curls all tangled and matted with blood and who knows what else. He wrapped his arms around himself, as tight as he could as he wandered into the main part of town, the buildings still just as desolate and terrifying as always.

In a way, he supposed it was ironic that he had been banished to the fucked-up, alternate dimension of his own home. Away from his friends, from his uncle, from the girl he loved more than anything…

He really had tried, to change the way people thought about him. To help them see that he wasn’t this scary, rough metalhead with a drug addiction that ran a cult.

Sure, he was never going to change the rumour-mill of a high school in a small town but his whole life, he’d just wanted friends. Friends who loved him, who appreciated his quirks and his interests and accepted him for every part of himself, even the fucked-up bits. And he’d finally got that. He had a group of friends that loved him.

And this place, that monster had taken it from him once again.

Suddenly, there was a shift in the air. A change in the stale atmosphere he could breathe in all too easily now. He wasn’t sure how to describe the change, just that there was a sudden heat in the air, a heady aroma of something that fuelled the ache in his throat and made his teeth prickle.

And Eddie might have been a newly fledged bloodsucker, but even he knew what that meant.

Blood. There was fresh blood somewhere in this dead wasteland.

But that should be impossible. There shouldn’t be any fresh blood in the Upside Down.

Some kind of instinct took over, and his feet were carrying him further down the street, silently and smooth, far more evenly paced than he usually walked. He blended in with the shadows, slinking through them like a phantom, around corners and houses that he was so familiar with despite the fact they were dark reflection of above, until he heard footsteps crunching on gravel.

The dead air was suddenly filled with the soft scent of apple and cedarwood, warm and comforting.

A scent he didn’t realise he was that so familiar with until now, one that reminded him of funfairs and summer nights.

A flash of carefully styled brunette hair that glinted gold beneath the red lightning, a slightly dirty yellow sweater which shone like a small beacon in the dark, faded jeans and familiar white trainers with red ticks.

Harrington?

Steve Harrington was in the Upside Down.

Eddie froze, hidden behind the broad trunk of an oak tree, eyes easily tracking Steve in the gloom as he carefully walked down the street, head sweeping from side to side like he was looking for someone.

Were you here…?

Hope flooded his system, battling the bloodlust for a moment and he nearly plunged headlong across the dead grass to shake Steve’s shoulders and ask if you were behind him, to see you emerging from some corner with that determined expression that always softened whenever you looked at him.

Eddie took a step out of the tree, his feet crunching on the bracken and sounding way too loud in the graveyard of the town.

Steve’s head snapped in Eddie’s direction, hand flexing around the beloved bat grasped at his side and he raised it slightly, defensively. “Who’s there?” His voice was hard and unwavering, as always when facing danger. He might have been scared internally, but he never backed down.

Eddie had heard all about how Steve saved the kids from the Russians, the way he’d battled the Demogorgon with no hesitation, always willing to throw his own life on the line, just to save his friends.

It was something you and Steve shared. And it was something Eddie loved and admired in the pair of you.

Eddie was a single step away from stepping out of the tree, of running to his friend and near sobbing in relief that he wasn’t alone anymore, when his jaw twinged painfully, a sharp ache bursting through his skull and then he tasted blood on his lower lip.

Every sense magnified even more, trebling in strength so all he could hear was the frantic thump-thump-thump of Steve’s heart.

The barest of dry breezes shifted, like a cruel act of fate and that apple and cedarwood scent was suddenly permeated with the rich, irony scent of blood.

Steve’s blood.

It was Steve’s blood lengthening Eddie’s fangs, the beat of his heart making his throat ache for hot, fresh blood to quench it.

His friend.

He was thinking about hurting his friend, of sinking his fangs right where Steve’s heart pounded strong and sure, of swallowing mouthfuls and mouthfuls of blood. Blood that some instinct told him would taste like those summer evenings and candyfloss, like the balmy air that caressed your skin when you stepped outside.

This was Steve, and Eddie was thinking about eating him.

Disgust mingled with the hunger, the starvation, and he stumbled backwards, shrinking into the shadows as if the shroud of darkness might dampen this insane hunger.

It did little of the sort, but the distance was a good thing, and maybe he needed more of it, even if they idea pained him.

Because he knew, if he walked out there, if he explained what was happening… Steve would let him. He would let Eddie take that blood, and then he would bring him home, to you.

But if he did, he wouldn’t stop.

Meanwhile, Steve had been scanning his surroundings, evidently not spotting Eddie and he dropped the bat with a sigh. His hand shifted restless through his hair, throat bobbing on a swallow and he mumbled, “Dammit, Munson. You were supposed to be here.”

That caught Eddie’s attention, ears pricking with this new-found sensitivity, and he waited, listening.

Steve looked around one final time, fingers still reflexively tightening and loosening on the bat, “I was supposed to be able to bring you home at least, so she could say goodbye.” He shook his head, casting a final sideways glance to the darkness then he turned, seemingly beginning to head back the way he came.

As the hazy red light danced over his clothes, Eddie noticed the slight dampness to them, the water clinging to the cuffs of his jeans.

Water?

Eddie racked his brain, the memories of before still a little hazy through the bloodlust but then the synapses fired, and it clicked.

Watergate.

Obviously whatever tremors had shaken the world above hadn’t destroyed all of the gates, maybe they’d just… opened them.

Maybe there was a way out.

A way Eddie could be free of this damn place.

Steve was already moving, his mumbles carrying over to Eddie, “- shouldn’t have left you here, I should have helped her bring you home. That was a real dick move, and I’ve regretted it every day since.”

Eddie was speechless, as he slowly followed Steve at a distance, sticking to the darker areas on silent feet.

He regretted leaving Eddie here? He… thought about it?

Even with your devoted, beautiful love, he still wasn’t used to people actually caring. There was still a small part of his brain that told him he wasn’t worth saving, wasn’t a thought on people’s minds and yet… Here this was.

Steve unknowingly led him across town, back through the sparse forests where it became harder to stay hidden, and Eddie had to take to pausing behind thicker tree trunks every now and then. His words still followed him, sending a jolt through his heart each time.

Until he heard the next thing.

The thing that made every cell in his changing body grow icy cold.

“I really wish you were still here, man. I don’t know how to help her. I don’t know how to save her.” A wrecked sigh from Steve as he kicked absently at a rock, “She’s slipping out of my hands every single day, more and more and the only thing that’s going to save her is you and I can’t give that to her.”

A panic seized Eddie’s heart in its clawed grip, twisting and reminding him how useless he was down here, how pointless his promise had been.

You were struggling and you were in pain, and it was all because of him. And he didn’t know how to help you, without hurting you. Without scaring you when he explained that… That what?

That he was a vampire?

That he was just having thoughts about sinking his teeth into one of your best friends’ throats?

Eddie made a noise of disgust at himself, focusing back on Steve, swallowing any nugget of information he could, all the while fighting those urges and the dark, velvet voice in his head telling him to take a bite.

Steve stood at the edge of Lovers Lake, watching the dry, cracked bed where the water should be. “I’m losing her, Eddie. And I can’t bring her back from this. I’m sorry, man. I promised you I would help her be happy, and instead I’m losing her.” He inhaled sharply, shaking his head once more, “I’m not letting it happen. I’m not going to let her go. I promised you I’d take care of her, and I’ll do it, even if she hates me for it.” With that, Steve stalked across the parched ground with renewed purpose, pausing at the pulsating gate. He seemed to be debating whether to say something or not, despite not realising the ears that were taking this all in with shocked silence, “I miss you too. Not just for her, or Dustin… But for me.” Steve swallowed once, and then he was gone, back through Watergate and back through to the world above.

Eddie gave him about fifteen minutes, the longest fifteen minutes of his life before moving to the gate quicker than he intended. Everything turned into a blur around him, like these instincts sensed his urgency to get home, to save you, to pull you back from the darkness he had caused.

He stumbled over his feet a little as the blood rushed back into his head, but he wasted no time in somewhat ungracefully diving through the gate.

But instead of water washing over his vision, it was heavy oblivion crowding into his mind and swallowing him whole, the sense of something other waking up.

*~There's a darkness at the heart of my love That runs cold, runs deep The darkness at the heart of my love For you~*

For the second time in however many hours, Eddie woke up covered in blood that wasn’t his own.

This time, he was laying on his back, surrounded by the shifting whisper of… tree branches, apparently.

He shot upright, hair flying round his face with his frantic absorption of his surroundings, realising he was lying in the middle of the forest floor, twigs and damp earth leeching cold through his clothes, his filthy t-shirt now stiff with even more blood. Fresh blood.

Eddie flinched, and the shock of seeing the fresh scarlet mess over his clothes made him realise something. His throat wasn’t dry anymore.

He was covered in blood. Again.

And he not only liked it, but he couldn’t remember how it had happened.

Where the fuck had the time gone?

Why couldn’t he remember?

And why didn’t he know what – or who – the blood belonged to?

“Shit, shit, shit.” He scrambled to his feet, rubbing at the blood like it would go away, but it just spread further, coating his hands like paint, and only increasing the tangy smell wafting around his head, “No, no!!” He whimpered, dropping back to the ground to wipe at the leaves and bracken, doing anything to stop this feeling clinging to his skin.

Oh stop panicking, this is who you are now. Get over it and embrace it.

Eddie froze, looking around quickly, “Who’s there?!” he ignored the way his voice cracked in fear, tears welling to his eyes again, but he refused to let them fall.

He was so sick of crying.

Safe. Get somewhere safe. Away from this.

He bolted back to his feet for a final time, moving on instinct whilst his mind struggled to keep up with all of this.

There were no bodies nearby, no one screaming in fear so that was… Good, right?

Right?

There was no way he could have hurt someone; he didn’t have that in him.

Hell, he’d barely ever fought back when Billy or Jason had beat on him, just sat there, and took it, let them hurt him and he never raised a fist in self-defence.

Why would he? People already thought he was a dangerous monster, so if taking the beatings meant he wouldn’t fuel that thought, he’d let his skin split and his bones break.

Right.

So, there was no possible way the blood belonged to a person. Even with the time loss, even with this… vampire-ness, he just couldn’t.

And he kept telling himself that.

Over and over, as his feet carried him out of the forest, down the quiet streets to one house in particular that always been a safe haven.

The porch with its fairy lights wrapped around the beams, the pumpkins set out for the holidays, the door mat that welcomed in every single guest.

And if he moved round the back of the house, he’d be able to pick out the window right by the apple tree, the one with the suncatcher he’d bought for you hanging in the window, so it could throw rainbows over the dark, welcoming walls of your room.

Except… He couldn’t go in.

Not just because he was meant to be dead.

Not just because he was too scared for you to see him like this.

Not just because he was a vampire.

But because on his way out of the forest, he’d tripped over something on the ground.

Something that showed evidence of being mauled by a creature out of its mind, starved, out of control. Multiple twin piercings of teeth all over its bloody neck, an antler broken in the struggle.

He hadn’t even made it a foot away before he heaved, vomiting up scarlet blood that tasted like game and iron, tears flooding his cheeks in utter disgust and heartbreak at what he’d done.

How dare he go up there after doing that?

If he could do that to such a beautiful creature, maybe he did have it in him to hurt someone, to hurt you.

Maybe he was a monster after all.

~* Now paint a pair of eyes And let's watch as it dries Remember always, that love is all you need Tell me who you wanna be And I will set you free *~

Eddie kept himself hidden, kept himself away from you for a total of five days.

Five days he spent hiding in the boathouse during the day, avoiding the sun which made his eyes hurt and his head spear with flashes of pain.

Five days he spent stealing things from campsites, forcing himself to eat regular food, food he used to love… Only for it to make his stomach roil until it came back up.

Five days he spent watching for the moment the sky slipped behind the clouds and he could sneak across town to your house, climbing the tree in your back garden with a grace he’d never really possessed.

He’d sit in that tree, perched on a thick branch, hidden in the darkness as you fought one of your own.

It was his own personal Hell, watching you do everything you could to avoid sleep, watching you toss and turn until you screamed yourself awake ,the sound so potent and clear in Eddie’s ears that it felt like a knife to the chest. Or teeth.

Every night he undertook his vigil, he got a little angrier, a little sadder, and a lot more guilt-ridden.

Angry, because Steve had promised he would look after you. And he knew it wasn’t all Steve’s fault, but you were barely clinging to this side of the living and Steve had promised.

That primal shadow lurking in his mind snarled at the thought, at the prospect of you not being taken care of and slipping away before his very eyes.

But it was the idea of going in there, of breathing in your midnight rain and starry sky scent and losing control. The thought of being unable to stop his fangs from tearing through your throat like butter, of hurting you when you were already in so much pain…

Go to her. Save her. Show her you’re alive and protect her from all these assholes who don’t seem to care.

Eddie grunted, poised in that same tree now, watching the dim glow of your phone through the window, “I’m not going over there. I can’t. I can’t risk hurting her.”

Yeah. That shadow apparently had a voice. It was his voice - since who else would be living in his head? – only deeper, bassier in every sense from the tone of the words to the urges and emotion it stoked within him.

You’re weak. You sit there and blame yourself, yet you’re causing her more pain by ending her suffering. Steve was meant to take care of her, and he didn’t. Look at her. Look what happened because you weren’t there.

Eddie gritted his teeth, feeling a prickle run through his jaw, like an itch and he reached a hand up to rub at the side of his face, “Fuck off. They tried their best, okay? Steve already feels bad enough, and he is looking after her. Stop being an asshole.”

He never thought he’d see the day where he was having a full on, verbal conversation with himself, but then again, he never thought he’d see the day where he was eaten by bats and then turned into a vampire, so.

The moon hung heavy for a few more hours, until it began to be chased by the very first brushes of sunlight.

You’d long since woken up, with a cry of pain and Eddie had sat there far longer than usual, watching as you physically dragged yourself from your bed and got ready for school, all the while the tree branch splintered under the weight of his hands digging into it.

The sheer intensity of his emotions was becoming harder and harder to restrain, the urge to protect you and also to put an end to your pain, to show you that he was alive, mostly and you didn’t need to mourn anymore.

You didn’t need to be alone.

But what if he hurt you?

That battle hadn’t gotten any easier over the last couple of hours, and more than once he’d almost dozed off for a few minutes, only to wake up halfway across the tree, hand outstretched toward your window.

To give it a gentle shake to free the half-latched lock you always kept it on. For him.

Fuck, he wanted to go in there so badly, to slide into bed and wrap his arms around your trembling frame. He’d pull you into his chest, bury his nose in your hair and reassure you that he was okay… Reassure himself that this was real. That he might be some bloodsucking monster, but he was still alive.

He just couldn’t risk causing you more pain.

She’s dying from the inside out.

“Shut up.” Eddie breathed it, the shadowy voice chipping away at the resolve the same way it had been for the last few hours, eating away at his determination.

You could save her, right now. Just knock on the window.

Eddie shook his head fiercely, curls lifting in the breeze and the scent of distant rainclouds and electricity tickled his nose, “Stop. I mean it.” He closed his eyes, the wood creaking in protest as his hands flexed.

Don’t you realise how happy she would be? How relieved? You could give her all of that, and yet-

“Enough!!!!” Eddie snarled the word loud enough to startle the birds on the roof of your home, causing them to take flight in a flurry of wings.

He swore, barely having time to jump from the branches to the shadowy cover below before your face appeared at the window, peering out curiously.

He froze, breath stolen just from that closer glimpse at you, the pain so clear on your face but you were so beautiful, you were the most gorgeous, stunning person he had ever seen, even in your pain.

If you don’t go to her, I will.

What?

Before he could work that one out, you were already gone, the light turning off and he waited for the kitchen light to come on, to tell him you were going to eat something, but it didn’t. Instead, he heard your keys in the front door, and then the retreat of your footsteps toward the street.

Oh, how easy it would be to chase after you and hold you… But instead, he held himself against the back of the house with every ounce of supernatural strength in his body until you were gone.

Coward.

He snarled again at the voice, instead climbing back into the tree, and slipping through the window into your room. He paused when the quiet softness enveloped him, so familiar and comforting to him.

It was cosy and dark in here, away from the sunlight that burned his eyes and made his skin feel all tight.

Your scent was everywhere, filling his head with the memories of all the nights and days here, the warm cuddles in bed, your hands tangled together as you pressed kisses to each other’s bodies… The fairy lights lighting the room as you read to him, or as he worked meticulously on the next D&D campaign whilst you played with his hair, weaving braids into it and marvelling at the soft, curly texture.

Before he moved any further, he ducked down to kick off his trainers, since they were messy and covered in dirt.

He padded across the room on silent feet, pausing to brush a hand over the stuffed bat he’d won you at the carnival last summer.

“Oh my god, Eddie, look at that bat!!!”

“Shit!! Look how cute he is!! I am so winning that for you, sweetheart.”

He spent a whole pocketful of change on the stall, throwing those little bean bags again and again until the bucket tipped over and you and Eddie exploded into cheers loud enough that a mother pulled her child away.

Neither of you could care, especially when the man handed over the stuffed bat and you squealed in utter delight when Eddie presented it to you with all the flourish of a diamond ring.

You treasured that bat for the whole night, tucking him into the front pocket of your faded dungarees, and he even sat between you both on the Ferris Wheel.

That little stuffed animal held every single memory from that night, every ounce of joy, and blossoming love because it was one of your first few proper dates.

Eddie picked up the bat, straightening its wings as he recalled how fucking nervous he’d been at the end of the night, his hands shaking, heart pounding but he’d still lifted a hand to your jaw, stroking your cheekbone before finally drawing you up to his lips so he could kiss you.

It had been the little nudge you’d both needed, the final point in which things went from ‘Will We?” to “We Will.”

He pressed a kiss to the head of the bat, before placing him back in the exact spot it’d been before.

He turned to the rest of the room, just taking in your space, the little symbols of you that it felt like he hadn’t seen in years. You were everywhere, your scent, your warmth, your personality. Even if he could almost feel the pain lingering from your heart.

There was a drawer where Eddie kept some of his clothes, so he could stay here and not have to worry about changing if you were going to school the next day or something.

He stooped down to open the drawer, carefully rummaging through until he pulled free a pair of ripped black jeans (obviously), a faded soft Metallica t-shirt, and a denim jacket.

Lifting them to his nose, he easily and indulgently breathed in the scents lingering on the fabrics, yours and his, mingled like they should always be.

Your scent was forever one that simultaneously set his heart racing but also soothed that wild, untamed energy within him. He only ever had to be in your presence for a few moments, the scent of your perfume or shampoo gently wafting over him and he felt safe. He felt at home.

You were his home.

Eddie swallowed as his throat suddenly closed up, overcome with the loss of something so poignant and so good in his life.

He shook his head fiercely, quickly changing without leaving a speck of dirt on your floor and he bundled all his clothes up into something more manageable.

He needed to get out of here, get away from these memories and the temptation, because he knew he would sit on your bed, like all those times before and wait for you to come home.

With a final glance round, he decided to slip the scarf from the back of your door, soaked with that beautiful scent and he slipped it around his neck before regretfully leaving your room, back into the cold and the dark and the loneliness.

~* There's a darkness at the heart of my love That runs cold, runs deep The darkness at the heart of my love So bold, so sweet *~

This was a really bad idea.

Like, a terrible one.

A dangerous one.

What was he doing, exactly?

Only being technically dead, but still currently wandering the schools of Hawkins High.

Oh yes.

Considering quite a lot of the student body would actually rather be dead than come back here, he was certainly living up that nickname of ‘freak’, wasn’t he?

But then again, Eddie was here for one reason, and one reason only.

The same reason it had been for a long, long time now.

You.

Because if there was one thing that would make Eddie risk exposure, it was you, and Hellfire.

It was a Friday, and about twenty minutes until the weekly Hellfire meeting. He knew you had been appointed DM in his absence, for which he was so incredibly proud and he genuinely could not wait to see you run the campaign. You’d stood in for him sometimes, and every single time you did, you were just incredible.

The way you’d describe locations and characters, the turn of voice when a monster gained the upper hand, or a player rolled a critical score – he was obsessed with watching you play.

So if that meant sneaking into the school when the last trickles of students were still lingering, then he would.

He still remembered your Friday schedule, and had used the cloudy, gloomy afternoon to run across the field from the woods, through the halls and slip into the drama room.

It contained enough dark corners for him to settle down into, adopting his preternatural stillness and blending into shadows to watch you.

Your presence walking toward the door hit him before you even opened it, that scent washing through him and again tempting him to come out of hiding, but he didn’t. He forced his limbs rigid and watched as you looked around the cosy room, a shudder running through your body like you felt his presence.

He stayed utterly silent as he watched you set the room up, light every candle, organise all the seats, pull the carefully crafted characters form their boxes and place them in their relevant positions on the map.

Eddie watched as you did every single activity but seemed to avoid the throne until you couldn’t put it off any longer.

You stood in front of it, staring at the carved wood with glazed eyes, as if you were watching something else, someone else sitting there. Especially when you ran a hand carefully over the back of it, and if he hadn’t had the hearing of a supernatural being, he would have missed the way you breathed, “This will always be yours, Eddie.” Before lowering yourself into the seat and settling in to wait for the others to arrive.

And wait.

Half an hour passed, then forty-five minutes, then an hour.

Time went on and on, the candles burning lower and your frame sinking deeper into the throne, like the energy you’d managed to dredge up was dissipating like the smoke from the flickering flames.

Where the hell were they all?

The Hellfire Club never missed a meeting, were always early and always eager to get started before the supposed time, so why weren’t they here?

He sat there, hiding, watching as the love of his life grew more and more dejected, eyes turning unseeing and unfocused again as you stared at the notes of his campaigns, the notes written for the third time because the first two were so unreadable in his eagerness that even he couldn’t have deciphered it.

They’ve forgotten her, Eddie. They’ve thrown her away, like they don’t care. She’s sitting alone and you’re still hiding from her.

Eddie hissed so very softly under his breath, anger beginning to stir in his belly with every passing tick of the clock.

He’d heard from your walk to school with Dustin that the Club had to convince you to take over as DM, had to literally get on their knees and beg, tell you how he would have wanted it and yet they’d fucked you over?

No fucking way.

By the time the clock crept past two hours, Eddie was stewing in his own fury, blood hot in his veins and hands curled into fists.

You were slumped over the table now, your head in your hand like it was too heavy, rubbing at your eyes every now and then and smudging your makeup.

He watched as you fished your phone from your pocket, thumbs quickly typing out a message, seemingly to one of the Club.

Not three minutes later, your phone gave a soft ping, and you ducked your head to read it.

Eddie witnessed your body stiffen like you’d been punched, head slipping from your hand and a noise of pained shock exit your throat.

He needn’t have tried to figure out a way to read the message, because you unknowingly told him just a breath later, “Band tryouts? What the actual fuck?” You stared at the phone like you couldn’t believe it, all whilst he watched and listened to the increasingly ragged, unsteady breathing rasping past your throat.

Before he could make a move to comfort you, to help you, to do something, you were gone. Fleeing the room and leaving the door swinging on its hinges and the taste of agony bitter on his tongue.

Bastards.

Yeah, it was bullshit that they were replacing him so quickly, but he knew it had to happen at some point.

But to leave you sitting here? To neglect telling you? To abandon you?

Eddie saw red.

A wave of fury that had been broiling in his belly at the treatment of you rose, making him taste smoke in his throat. His jaw twinged, ached for a split moment before he felt the sharp sting of his fangs pierce his lip.

They’d left you sitting there.

He burst from his hiding spot; eyes zeroed in on the only remnant of the Club left in the room – the character statues perched on the map.

They were swept up in his grip in a mere blink, and this feral snarl ripped from his throat at the sight of Gareth’s character.

How dare they fucking leave you.

A soft crack came from his fist, and he dropped the shards on the floor, that deep voice cooing in delight, begging him to leave this place, coaxing him to go and find the real versions of these layers and make them pay for causing you such pain.

And what did Eddie do?

He listened.

~* And all this time you knew That I would put you through The darkness at the heart of my love For you *~

The footsteps of the last ‘audition’ faded away down the street, their owner buzzing about ‘how well that had gone’ and how they’ve ‘totally got the spot’. In all fairness, they hadn’t been too bad. The best out of everyone that had come, but that might have just been because Eddie was focused more on the short mop of hair instructing the people on what to play.

Eddie had never felt a bad feeling toward his friend before, but right now?

Right now every smirk, laugh, nod, word only fuelled that raging chasm of fury in his belly and each shift of the breeze only burned his throat more.

His fangs still hadn’t retracted, and he was too far into his anger to notice how his lips moved to accommodate the new length. He also wouldn’t notice the red sheen to his eyes, the way they turned glossy and captivating, intended to ensnare the pray and ensure they didn’t run away…. Too much.

Eddie also wouldn’t have noticed how the inner voice that was usually his own had slipped further into the new arrival, that voice that was deeper and raspier than his usual tone. The lines between man and this monster were blurring, despite all his best efforts to ignore this new revelation.

The was a haze in his mind, a weighted cloud of scarlet bloodlust that made his limbs tremble with anticipation and his mind forget all thought but feeding.

Because the boy standing across the street from him had hurt you when you were already in so much pain.

And that just wouldn’t do.

We should have a little fun with them first, Eddie.

Eddie shook his head sharply, keen eyes tracking the street for any late stragglers, “No. I don’t have the patience for that. He needs to know what he did.” Even his physical voice had dropped in pitch, flatter, lacking its usual animated brightness.

Of course, that could just be because he was dead, and his girlfriend was currently clinging to the precipice by her fingernails.

That reminder made him snarl softly again, and he rose from his hidden crouch from someone’s front yard. The air shifted, bringing across Gareth’s scent stronger, and his head was suddenly full of heady, tempting images of the boy prone beneath Eddie’s attack, sobbing in fearful apology of his actions, of Jeff screaming and running from the sight of their old friend and DM fang deep in Gareth’s jugular.

Oh, the way the blood would feel sliding down his parched throat, hot and tangy. It would quell that beast rising within him, quieten the fury and… Wait.

What if it satisfied him enough that he could come and see you? What if it dulled these urges long enough that he could spend at least just a little time in your presence without the fear of hurting you?

That thought, dangling in front of him like a shiny prize, made him slowly creep forward on silent footsteps, the bloodlust still a thick haze in his head that allowed room for one three thoughts only.

Hunt.

Feed.

Revenge.

Jeff looked up from unplugging the amp, that ingrained instinct of an unknown danger causing him to look up, “Hey, I think I just saw someone out in the yard.”

Frowning, Gareth looked up too, clocking his head to gaze into the empty street, “Really? I didn’t hear anyone.” But he too had that feeling of skeletal fingers brushing over his neck, the silent alert that something out there was watching them, lying in wait.

Did they know?

Did they know that the friend they had already moved on from was out there? With his intense, captivating gaze that would ensnare them like a pinned bird, ready for his feed?

Could they see that it was someone who used to bring their Friday nights alive with tails of monsters and heroes, whose voice painted the most elaborate and beautiful worlds before their very eyes?

The same voice that sung with them, who played his beloved guitar in front of a gathering of loyal fans?

No. They didn’t.

Because Eddie Munson was dead and the world had moved on.

The street was quiet, the birds and smaller animals had fled in the presence of a predator and the moon had slipped behind a cloud, casting everything in the weighted blanket of night.

It was time.

Yes, yes, Eddie. Feed. Become who you are meant to, let me out, let me join you-

Eddie tracked a path across the street, each step bringing him closer and closer, Gareth’s heart pounding a rhythm drum beat in his ears, louder and louder with every inch foot of space and it all narrowed down to those three thoughts.

He slipped behind the car on the driveway, holding his breath, limbs coiled to pounce as he bared those fangs once more-

Ping.

A frantic buzzing was emanating from his pocket, sending a little humming vibration through his hip every couple of seconds.

It was insistent, the buzzing almost getting stuck and overlapping each other in an effort to keep up with itself.

Eddie blinked in confusion, startled out of his bloodlust and he frowned, trying to place where he was, why he was seconds away from tearing out his friend’s throat.

What the fuck was going on?

Gareth and Jeff were still peering out into the driveway, instruments held in the air mid-action before Jeff shrugged, “Maybe it was just a cat.”

Gareth hummed his agreement before the pair continued with their task, none the wiser of how close they had just come to death at the hands of a ghost. Or rather, a vampire.

Eddie felt sick.

Sick to the very core with disgust at himself, at this whole situation.

He’d let himself grow weak and distracted, nearly allowed that beast to take over… And what would have happened then?

Ping.

He made a noise, quickly turning tail and fleeing to the safety of the tree line once more before searching his pockets for the source of the vibration.

His hands met the flat smooth shape of his phone, tucked into a pocket and he pulled it out, still just as confused.

When did he pick this up?

When did he even turn it on?

Before he could question that further, the screen suddenly lit up with another flurry of notifications, the bright light stinging his eyes but that didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter that he had almost killed his friend.

It didn’t matter that he was standing still within view of anyone looking out of their window.

Nothing else mattered.

Because it was your name lighting up his screen, hundreds, and hundreds of message alerts, all titled with “Lucky Dice❤️‍🔥🎲”, his nickname for you ever since you first joined Hellfire and had grabbed his hand, brushing a teasing kiss to his knuckles before he rolled the attack roll against your character.

Your cheeks were flushed with the action, ignoring the snickers from the others when neither of you could look away from each other, when it took Eddie an extra second to remember what he was doing.

Ever since then, when that brush to his knuckles had given you the result you wanted, you’d done the same thing.

A kiss to the knuckles, a secret smile against his skin and it worked every time.

He’d been calling you his lucky dice long before you knew about it, because with you, he was lucky. Everything always seemed to work out just right, just perfect, and it was all down to you and that smile.

Eddie’s hands shook as he opened up the text screen, and the blurring of hundreds of text messages shifted across his vision.

It was a story, a journal of sorts, a letter written to Eddie with every thought, emotion and action described to him in the voice that could guide him out of Hell.

As he quickly sifted through, his heart sank deeper and deeper as it became more evident you were drowning, that beautiful voice growing more exhausted and losing the ability to fight. His newly immortal heart grew as cold as ice at the thought of you sinking into that pit for good.

You were going to die.

Like hell would he let that happen.

Lucky Dice❤️‍🔥🎲:

-“Come home.”

-“Please come home. Come back to me.”

-“I love you, Eddie.”

His fingers moved before his head caught up, knowing that if he bailed now, he wouldn’t get another chance.

If he ran, he’d lose the only good thing in his life, the one thing he’d truly gotten all for himself. Love, happiness, and someone completely beautiful he got to call his girlfriend.

So, once more, Eddie Munson didn’t run.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” – sent.

Even as he pressed send, his feet were already quickly hurrying over the ground, running towards, not away. He weaved through back alleys and over gardens, slipped through two fences and then he was there, once more beneath the tree in your garden.

There was nothing, just darkness at first and then the light flicked on.

He watched as the text bubble rose and fell, about four times, each appearance sending his heart careening further into his chest.

The soft hiss of the blinds over your window snapped his attention back to full focus, nearly cracking his neck he tipped it up so quickly.

Inch by inch, you were exposed to him.

Hips, torso, ribs, shoulders.

You were wearing one of his t-shirts, an old Metallica band tee, the material soft and cosy on your frame and he always loved how it fell to your mid-thighs. It gave him room to gently trace patterns on the soft skin, to rest the width of his hand just above your knee, and to feel your smaller fingers trace over his knuckles and rings.

His hands curled into fists reflexively, an ache of longing ripping through his body and he was thankful he didn’t need to breathe as much as a regular person, because there was absolutely no air coming into his lungs now.

He could see from the rapid, uneven rise and fall of your own chest that you were suffering the same, your face still hidden as you steeled yourself for what you might see.

A silly thought pinged into Eddie’s mind, and he quickly lifted his hands to smooth through his curls, to make sure his fringe fell over his forehead right and he wasn’t covered in dirt or anything.

A quick brush down of his jacket and jeans, and he prayed he looked tidy enough for you, that he looked how you remembered him… Without all the blood.

Fuck, he was so nervous. It was like that first date all over again, where he stood outside your door for a solid five minutes, arguing with himself before he finally had the courage to knock and take you out on a date.

If anything, he might have even more scared.

But he had no time to dwell on that, because your chest expanded with a final breath, and then you pulled away the last barrier between the pair of you.

Oh, you were even more beautiful than the last time he saw you.

Even the tear tracks on your face were like brushes of starlight, just like when you’d both climb up onto the roof of the trailer and watch the night sky.

He was just so in love with you, it hurt.

Eddie watched as you stared down at him, chest stuttering.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even blink.

You just stood there, perhaps even more still than he could get, just… Just staring at him.

Eddie cocked his head slightly, worried you were going into shock, and he took a step forward, into the light that emanated form above the back door, and then he lifted his hand and gave you a little dorky wave, even as every single cell in his body was screaming at him to pull you into his arms.

Each rapid-fire pulse was an order, demanding he go and hold you.

That movement seemed to break you from the trance, and your face crumbled with fresh tears, just seconds before you dropped out of sight below the window, collapsing under the weight of this revelation.

Eddie swore under his breath, turning to scramble up the tree, across the branches and somewhat ungracefully into your bedroom window, where your muffled sobs were piercing the silence. “Shit, hey, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here.”

He dropped to his knees beside where you had fallen, curled in on yourself and he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your shaking body, his own trembling with the crushing weight of everything that had happened.

As he gently pulled you into his lap, coaxing your head to his neck, it hit him just how much you’d all gone through this year. You’d experienced things even a full-grown adult wouldn’t be able to handle, and yet none of you could tell anyone about it.

Ever.

Your arms suddenly flew around his neck, gripping his shoulders, his hair, your legs uncurling, only to loop around his waist. The sobs were coming too fast for your words to make sense, but he didn’t need super senses to know you were breathing his name over and over, like a mantra, a chant, and a blessing all in one.

Tears burned the back of his own eyes, then fell heavily as he pressed his face into your hair, letting his own sobs come quietly as he merely held you tighter, relishing the feel of your warmth against his own chilled bones, the scent of your shampoo. You were real, you were alive, and you might have been falling to pieces, but you were still here.

This was real.

It was finally real.

Hours, or maybe only minutes later, you slowly lifted your head from his neck, his jacket soaked in tears and the scent of salt heavy in the air but that didn’t matter. Not when you lifted your hands to cup his jaw, to turn it this way and that, glossy eyes probing every inch of his face, “I…” There was a roughness to your voice form the sobbing and your exhaustion, but Eddie was still enraptured by your beauty. “Eddie, how is this possible… I watched. I felt when you...” You flinched imperceptibly, moving to pat at his chest and to pause with your palm pressed over his heart.

Fresh tears filled your eyes as his heart beat strong beneath your touch, and he smiled a small smile, reaching up to brush away your tear with the back of his finger, “It’s kind of a weird story, I’m not gonna lie. It sounds like part of a campaign, but then again, everything we do does.” He laughed a little, trailing that knuckle over your cheekbone, along the line of your jaw and down your neck. His hands trembling still, terrified he might accidentally hurt you, but you trusted him.

You always did.

The way you shivered beneath him sent more little shockwaves through his blood, like little jolts of lightning and this time in your presence had already made him feel far more alive than any moment since he’d opened his eyes. “But I will say that through it all, I kept thinking of you. I knew you’d help me back home, sweetheart.”

You made a little noise, half exhale of breath, half sob again and pulled him closer with the hand still on his jaw, your rings cool to his skin.

The world stood still again when your lips pressed to his, soft at first, a tender press as if you were both getting reacquainted with each other, but within seconds it was already growing bolder, more intense.

Eddie’s hand slipped back to your neck, inadvertently resting over your pulse as he pulled you closer, eyes falling closed and he gently ran his tongue against the seam of your lips, groaning softly at the instant parting you granted him, and he groaned again deeper in is throat when the taste of you flooded his tongue.

You were hot coffee on a cold morning, burnt sugar in front of crackling bonfires, the scent of thunderstorms heavy in the air and the explosion of stars on a blanket of midnight.

He thought kissing you before was indescribable, but now, with the heightened senses and months of being apart… It was something else entirely. It was everything.

And you always responded so well, melting like butter under his touch but equally meeting his soft challenge with your own.

You shifted on his lap, straightening up so every inch of your torso was pressing into his, dragging your other hand upfrom his chest and into his hair.

Shit.

Your nails scratched over his scalp, and his eyes would have rolled back if they were still open. Your head slanted to kiss him at a deeper angle and your tongue danced with his own, stroking against it like you refused to back down having missed him just as much and the pair of you determined to show the other just how much.

With every second that slipped by, every soft moan from your mouth into his, every pass of your hands through his hair, he was losing grip on that tether a little more.

His skin burned everywhere you were touching, even through your clothes and his heart raced in time with your own, pumping blood round his body and only increasing that searing heart. His head filled with the scent of you, his mouth flooded with your taste, and he hadn’t even thought about the hot flush of your blood beneath your skin yet.

He was drowning in you, the world fading away to everything but this moment right here and he was oh so happy to let it.

Your tongue was currently tracing the roof of his mouth, thumbs pressed firmly but gently into the joint of his jaw and then – then the tip of your tongue caught his teeth, his fangs he hadn’t even realised had extended and you made a noise of surprise.

Eddie’s eyes flew open, even as the sensation travelled straight through his spine and all the way below his belly and he pulled back, apologies already falling in stuttered, wrecked gasps from his lips. “Shit, shit, fuck, baby, I – I don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise, I didn’t-”

The finger you pressed to his lips cut him off mid-sentence, and you examined him with unreadable eyes, even with your cheeks flushed so prettily and your hair all messy from his own hands.

When satisfied he was quiet, you once more cupped his jaw, running your thumb over his plush lower lip for a moment before gently pulling it down to expose his fangs.

He’d never get used to saying that.

You lifted your eyes to his, searching them, the rich honey they’d melted into and when he nodded ever so faintly, you looked back to his lips. A second of nothing, then you pressed the pad of your thumb carefully to the tip of lengthened canines, watching as a bead of blood welled up, scarlet and shining.

Now the aroma of your blood pervaded the air, intense and irresistible, a purely concentrated version of you, and fuck, it made his teeth length more, and he felt a deeper hunger than anything previous. This wasn’t just hunger to quench is urges, it was a hunger for you. To remember you the way he used to, to feel you and make you feel just how much he treasured you.

It was already whispering in his head, the urge making his hands clench into fists, and he carefully turned his head away from you, squeezing shut his eyes so you wouldn’t see the hungry, red sheen to them. The action of his hands made his rings click together, a sort of stim he’d always done, to try and expel anxious energy.

You still hadn’t said anything, something Eddie was also trying not to worry about because he couldn’t bear the thought of just getting you back and then losing you again, especially to his own detriment.

Were you terrified? Disgusted?

“Hey…” Now you did speak, voice gentle and you gave a little tug to his curls, “Look at me, Eddie.” Shit, the way you called his name in that hoarse voice, a voice he’d listen to and do whatever to make happy.

Which was why he had to ignore it this one time. “I can’t. I don’t want you to see me like this, like a mons-”

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to God, I’ll knee you in the balls.”

He froze, peeping open one eye that he slid sideways, “Not the kind of talk I’d expected us to be having right now, sweetheart.” He tried to bring humour to the situation, tried to distract you… But you’d always seen straight through his bullshit.

He felt your eyes on him, that look he just knew burning in them, so he relented, slowly turning back to face you. He waited a single second before opening his eyes properly, letting you see the full expanse of the glimmering sheen over the honey brown.

And you did not flinch. Not one bit.

If anything, curiosity shone in your own gaze, the blood still sitting on your thumb as you gazed between his eyes and then down at your thumb.

A pause. Thoughtful, wondering.

Then you held your thumb to his lips and spoke so softly, so simply, “Here.”

Eddie blinked, brows pulling in, “Wait, you don’t understand… I can’t. I haven’t…” He swallowed, pointedly trying to ignore your thumb, glazed eyes fixed on your own even as his cheeks flushed, “I haven’t fed from… From a human. Only from animals.” He couldn’t help the way his lips pulled back a little in disgust when he said that sure you would cringe away too.

But you sat there still, unmoving, unwavering, “Eddie. Look at me, I’m not scared. I’m not disgusted. Whatever this is, whatever happens, I’m with you.” You nodded once to emphasise your point, “You can tell me what happened whenever you’re ready, if you even want to. But I’m never going to leave you. I just got you back, I’m sure as hell not losing you again, okay?” You leant forward, resting your forehead to his, “I love you. Every single part of you, even if some of them are sharp and pointy… Besides, we’ve dealt with weirder.”

He couldn’t help the huff of laughter when you said that, the tension in his body melting away with the soft, gently thump of your forehead on his own. This was an action so familiar to you both, something that always brought him comfort and it helped him to realise, maybe… maybe he could do this. You’d be by his side, and he always felt most himself, most confident when you.

“What if I hurt you?” He spoke it quietly just in case it was spoken into existence if he said it any louder.

You shook your head faintly against his own, confidence oozing from you. Confidence in him, “You won’t. I trust you.” You lifted your head from his enough to look at him, and then held up your hand again, “Go on.” There was a little encouraging smile on your lips, curiosity still burning in your expression.

Okay.

Eddie took a deep breath, his ringed fingers coming to gently encircle your wrist and he brought your thumb between his lips, giving the tiny wound a gentle suck and… You exploded across his tongue.

It was all of those things from earlier, fire, sugar, storms, lightning, everything, barrelling tenfold through every single sense and sending him flying higher than any drug every could.

It was cliché as fuck, but you were his drug, expanding every sense and thought until he felt like he was just in this humming state of bliss.

And that was all from one drop.

You really were the very thing he orbited, coveted, and treasured.

When his head eventually cleared, you both moved back to the bed, cuddling up the way you always had done, not an inch between you, buried underneath the covers, away from the rest of the world.

Eddie held you close in his arms, arms wrapped around your torso with his fingers buried in your hair against your scalp, absently rubbing his fingertips into the muscle every now and then.

Your head was cradled on the front of his shoulder, right over his heart and he knew you were counting the beats beneath your ear, convincing yourself once more that he really was here beneath you, alive, whole, safe.

He let out a sigh, a breath he’d been holding since his last one and he mumbled, “Can we go to bed? Just… Just to hold each other?” He was never ashamed to ask for these moments, this softness.

You hummed softly, turning to kiss his shoulder and you nodded, “Of course we can.” You were quiet for a moment, rubbing his back gently, “Do you need to hang upside down from the light or something?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, laughing again and suddenly, just like that, everything was just okay, “You’re hilarious, sweetheart. Really. I’m laughing so so hard right now.” He poked your side playfully, earning himself a little squeal.

“Come on then toothy, get in my bed.’

This was it.

He was home now.

Finally, he was home.

Back in bed with you, holding you close to his body and counting each one of your breaths, something he’d done long before now. It soothed him, settled the frantic energy itching to get out of his body and helped him focus on something.

In, hold, out.

Over and over, and it not only reassured him you were okay, but it also told him this was real. Because there was no way he could make this feel as solid and warm and true as this.

He could never replicate the warmth of your body, the scent of your skin or the way you felt in his arms.

No way.

Eddie let out a soft sigh against your hair, allowing his body to sink further into the mattress, his fingers tracing patterns over your shoulder blade, a habit he never really noticed he was doing.

And as you finally slept for the first time in months, he felt the coaxing caress of sleep run over his skin too, gently drawing him down into a darkness that was soothing and safe, one that echoed with the faint call of your laughter and the feel of your hand in his.

So, he gave in, following the sound of your voice in his memories, and he allowed himself to sleep properly, safely.

Eddie the found was home.

~* Paint a pair of eyes Let's watch as it dries I'm with you always, always *~

The clouds had just passed over the moon, the clock somewhere past 1:30am when Eddie’s body went rigid for a split second, arms tightening around where he held you to his chest.

His finally dreamless sleep rippled, his resting consciousness slipping through the surface of his mind and giving way to something else.

Someone else.

Him.

The shadowy blanket of his mind shimmered and folded, re-emerging into the stormy, red-hued sky that hung below Hawkins, a flipped mirror of what was above.

The bats that had given life to this form still tore through the air, shrieking at each other as they raced to find their next meal.

They didn’t hurt him or come for him now, even if he could still feel the searing agony of their teeth tearing into his flesh. He brushed a hand over his belly, where the scars would never fade and he still almost flinched away, as if expecting attack.

But of course, they wouldn’t dare, he was one of them. A predator.

A monster? The very thing everyone had perceived him to be?

Before he could dwell too much on that, before he could allow himself to break down in duress at what he had done, his back straightened. His shoulders went back, chin raising in a perfect posture of obedience and willingness to obey.

The stance of a general.

There was no body, but the presence was just as poignant, just as deadly and darkly, wrongly alluring, “My pets did their job well, I see.” There was the sense of being observed, examined by a figure stalking around him in circles, “Perhaps a little too well. I did not expect you to let the boy escape.”

Shit.

His mind whirled quickly, flying through a reason he could give that would not reveal the truth too closely, “Forgive me, sir. My… transformation was not fully complete, I- he - managed to find an escape, I’m afraid I don’t know how.” He couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t risk Vecna knowing the gateway back home. Back to her.

The disembodied voice hummed, mockingly almost, “Yet again, true love wins out.” His next words carried a smirk, the belief that he held the upper hand, “I wonder what she’ll think when she finds out what you’ve truly become.”

He could hardly believe what he was hearing, but he was careful not to let it show on his face. Did he truly not know that he’d been up there? That he… that Eddie had seen her? She knew about them both?

He chose to stay silent, to listen obediently for fear of revealing something in his scrambled, starving brain.

Vecna continued, his voice as cool and casual as if talking of the weather, “If you cannot keep him under control, I will be forced to make moves I’m not planning on taking yet. I’ve been inside your little dove’s head for quite some time, and I must say, she’s practically begging for me to take her and free her. I’d hate to have to end my fun too early because you cannot control the boy.”

A fury rose in his chest, so fierce it stole what little breath he had and threatened to swallow him hole, to burn this place to the ground and take its master with it.

No one touched you.

No one dared lay a hand on you, including this monster.

Even if the guilt still ate at him for leaving you, for hurting you… He would tear apart anyone who dared cause you harm.

Yet as soon as he felt his teeth lengthen, felt his eyes grow sharper and his instincts deadlier… there was a strange tug at his very core.

Something wrong.

It was hooked into the fabric of his very being, sensing the disobedience and reminding him why he was alive, who he had to thank. It yanked sharply, pain splintering through his heart and that fury was suffocated, the flames dying out as instantly as they had come.

Before he could lose composure over whatever the fuck just happened, that commanding voice began to fade back into the aether, but not before his final command. “Be ready. I will have use for you soon. I don’t need the boy getting in the way.”

He still didn’t understand the separating between himself and Eddie. ‘The boy’. He didn’t know where one began and one ended, where one mind stopped and the other started. He might be in control now, but his thoughts, his cravings… His desires, they were still Eddie’s. Still theirs. Just… dialled up to a million.

Were they?

He didn’t know anymore.

Was he still Eddie?

Or was he truly someone else? He knew he had a voice, that he could see through Eddie’s eyes, but he didn’t have the control over the physical body, at least not when Eddie was awake.

The voice hadn’t finished, “When the time comes, I need to know I can count on you.” He felt a phantom pressure around his throat, tighter than the craving for blood, “Can I count on you, General Kas?”

“Yes, Master.”

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #kas!eddie x reader #kas!eddie #eddie munson angst #vampire eddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #joe quinn #darkness at the heart of my love series

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pastelsandpining · 1 year

Note

CONGRATS ON 400!!! do with this what you will 😈

"Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?"

you did this to yourself beloved <3

thank you for the request!! and thank you to my beta @ladyhoneydee !!

warnings: blood, major character death, themes of guilt and grief

Masterlist | 400 Requests

traitor

The world burned.

Crimson and amber painted the sky, dappled the trees, traced every blade of grass that met the naked eye. Embers waltzed amongst spires of smoke, climbing higher and higher into the ashen air. He could remember the look of the world when he emerged; remembered that initial glimpse of cerulean blue through the crack in the surface, the sway of greenery in a gentle breeze, the way his chest expanded with his first greedy breath of fresh air. It had burned in his lungs then, stung his eyes to tears, but he couldn’t get enough. Now, the earth looked nothing like those memories. His own hand had set everything ablaze.

And just there, in the midst of the crumbling architecture—mortal talent, wasted—and charred ground, laid this world’s protector. It was she who kept the earth alive; whose breath made the tide of the oceans rise and sink; whose touch caused flowers to blossom and trees to sprout; whose song brought comfort and warmth, like a lullaby brings to a babe; whose heartbeat was the reason for the chase between the sun and the moon. Hylia, she was called, and she’d been the first to greet him when his King split the ground she walked on.

She’d been kind. She must not have known that creatures like him did not deserve kindness.

He did not know what compelled him to move. He could only guess that it was guilt driving his feet forward, one foot in front of the other, towards the crumpled figure. He moved with an urgency that did not belong; he’d known that this was going to happen. He’d known that the outcome meant she was going to be hurt. Demise was not merciful to those that he loathed, and Hylia, in all of her goodness and power, was what he hated most. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the sight that awaited.

Her once white dress was stained with golden ichor. She was nearly unmoving, curled into herself in a last attempt to conserve energy. Her skin was pale, as if all the color had been drained from it, and her golden hair was in tangles and knots sprawled over the sooty ground. Still, the sight of her was so beautiful that it took his breath away.

He knelt by her side, his arms gentle and careful as he cradled her body between them.

“Hylia,” he murmured; speaking her language had always felt off on his tongue. “My goddess…”

She turned her head. Despite it all, her lips curved into a comforting smile. One of her hands lifted and pressed to his cheek. Her fingers slipped in the ichor; it was warm and smooth. He was not accustomed to many emotions, but he understood those that hit him so suddenly, right then and there, to be grief and utter guilt. The heart that she’d unearthed from the depths of his chest wrenched.

“I’m so sorry,” he told her, dropping his head to hers. Her breathing sounded as ragged as it felt. “I’m so sorry.”

“You were not the one to strike me,” Hylia spoke. Her voice was barely audible over the roaring of the wind.

“Don’t,” he begged, clutching the fabric of her dress. He’d always thought white was too bright of a color; now, he would give anything to see it pure again. “Don’t. I led him to you. I do not deserve your kindness.”

“My love, do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?”

And it hurt. It was agony, the way his chest ached and hands began to shake. He did not think it was possible that someone could be so good, good enough to forgive him for his sins. He’d led the Demon King to her, knowing what he would do, because it was what he’d been created for. He’d hated himself for it upon meeting her and had loathed his existence ever since. He held her tighter, one hand lifting to hold the slipping hand of hers against his face, and a new warmth ran over his skin: tears. “I..” But he could not even say that he loved her. Would it mean anything if he did? After all he’d done? He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to bid the evidence of his sorrow to stay beyond the floodgates, but nothing could stop them now. He’d done this to her. Demise would always know where she was, because wherever she went, his obedient servant would follow.

“I know.”

“I will kill him myself,” he swore, but Hylia’s sad smile suggested it meant very little. “He will get to you first,” she told him. They both knew it. He swallowed.

“I deserve what comes to me.”

She looked at him now with something different. Pity. Like what he’d said had somehow hurt her, too. She was too good to agree with him, even if they should both call it true.

“You are not what Demise made you to be,” she murmured, and her hand moved to rake through his hair. The gesture was comforting, once upon a time. Now, it felt like he was being set aflame. Maybe he was.

“I killed you,” he said weakly. Her smile became something wry.

“Gods do not die,” she told him, and he tried his hardest to convince himself that it was true. Gods did not die, but those like him were sent back to the depths of hell over and over again, and he wished nothing more than for her to serve him that fate on a rancid platter. He did not deserve to be anywhere else, or have death reach out to him kindly. He was born to be and would die a traitor; he only longed for it to be by her hands. It was fitting.

The sky was dark when Hylia fell still. Maybe she would recover in time; maybe what she had said was true: gods could not be killed.

But he laid her body with the flowers and decided he would find out for himself whether or not a god could die.

He would begin with the Demon King himself.

#and then he died #hylia #fierce deity #hylia/fierce deity #hylia/fd #this is a mess of a oneshot #i hope its okay though #hurt/no comfort #angst #tloz

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thegrandlinesimp · 2 years

Text

This turned out to be less kink and more character study, my brain saw it as a prompt and I rolled with it. And just so you know I headcanon Kid is left handed (for reasons that would take too long to explain here).

Also, did I look up images of amputee stumps mere days post operation because I’m a slut for authenticity and Oda is a pussy in not drawing it? Yes, yes I did.

Warnings: not much really, a bit angsty, some mentions of blood but nothing terrible, vague mentions of past child abuse (Kid’s mum is a bitch)

Word count: 3.5k

The Victoria Punk rocked steadily on the dark sea, waves lapping at her sides as she creaked in response. The moon was high in the sky and stars shining above, their sparkling light reflected off the surface of the calm waters. A castle loomed over the ship, turrets crumbling with age and the water had long since smoothed the once rocky beach. Most of the ship’s crew were inside the ancient walls, save for a small few, one of which was staring out at the open waters from behind a striped mask.

Killer sighed as he leaned against the ship’s railing, staring out to the midnight shrouded sea with a heavy heart. His stomach twisted at a memory from a few nights ago, a rather heated verbal fight he’d had with his captain that - for the first time since they’d started dating - didn’t end with a rough, carnal fuck.

Though much to Killer’s unease, they hadn’t had sex in a solid four months, even though Kid had been given the ‘okay’ by Doc three weeks ago, so long as he went easy. He’d expected Kid to jump him that night at the very latest, but nothing happened. Nothing continued to happen for two and a half weeks, with Kid continuing to go bed wearing an old, long sleeved jumper he’d found in storage a few months prior. During the day the young captain would cling to the left side of his coat, as if scared it’d fall away to reveal-

There was a flash of a blade, Kid let out a roar of agony as he stumbled and fell.

His stomach twisted again and he leaned over the railing, he gripped it tight with one hand while with the other he grabbed his mask, ready to tear it off should he suddenly be sick.

Blood, gore and death had never fazed Killer, it was how he’d earned his name, just a nameless orphan on the streets often found with blood on his hands around the time a body turned up. Though it was usually scumbags, and people turned a blind eye to the marines as they were well hated on his home island. No, he’d seen limbs go flying, sent them so with his own blade. Sometimes it wasn’t him who dismembered a person in the middle of a fight, but that had never effected him.

But this was different.

This was Kid.

If Doc hadn’t been there, he would’ve…

Killer just wanted to hold him, to have him in his arms, feel that he was real. He still remembered his beloved captain, pale, still, silent in the med bay, his precious Punk in tatters as she barely made it to dry land. Kid’s fire had dulled since then, a soft ember that flickered with defiance every now and then, giving Killer a glimmer of hope.

He knew why kid was like this, when you know someone for so long you can just see the way their brain thinks. That, and having the redhead yell at him the other night “why fuck? You won’t even be able to get up what with how gross I look!” was a dead giveaway. When he used to get a new scar he’d flex his muscles, telling the tale of how he’d won the battle, coming out alive.

But that was just it, he’d barley made it this time, this time he’d lost.

He knew Kid didn’t feel worthy, old childhood wounds his mother gave him opening back up from the severe blow to his ego. Insults like ‘tattered little scumbag’ and ‘scrawny, worthless sewerage waste’ were some of the nicer things she had called him while dealing out punishment. Kid had an odd, silent pride in his looks now that he was a lot older, the new scars, not to mention the missing arm, had destroyed the self image he’d made. He’d tossed all his jewellery into the ships treasure hoard with a look of disgust on his face, punching a mirror and shattering it to piece only a couple of days later.

This couldn’t go on.

He needed his captain back.

He needed Kid back.

Killer grit his teeth and straightened, mind made up as he turned, and made his way below deck to Kid’s workshop.

He needed to let Kid know how he felt, and if talking wouldn’t do it, then the captain’s favourite pass time would have to do.

He paused, making the quick decision to stop off at his and Kid’s cabin first. Perhaps drastic times called for even more drastic measures.

***

Kid gave another glance to the schematics Doc had given him, his gaze coming to his own rough sketch of what he wanted the prosthetic to look like and finally to the metal skeletal structure in front of him. Wires hung this way and that, the technician side of his current project confusing him to no end as he gnawed on the handle of his screwdriver, teeth marks already etched deep into the old tool.

It still didn’t seem quite right.

Then again, the last two attempts seemed about the same at this stage, promptly hurled across the room in a fit of rage at his own ineptitude.

He was just about to fall into the same pattern of descent into self hatred and rage when the door to his workshop was unlocked. There’d been no scraping of the key on the other side as the wielder tried to put it in the hole, so either the old man hadn’t been drinking too much, or it was-

Killer nodded at him as he walked in, “Kid.”

Or it was the last person he wanted to see…

He bit harder on the screwdriver, sparing his first mate a glance and a grunt before trying to hyper focus on his current task.

It was a bit difficult, though, with Killer just standing there, staring at him from behind his mask.

“What?” He finally said as he whirled around to face the older man, tone far sharper than he intended it to be.

Killer, of course, didn’t seemed fazed, not even showing the little uncomfortable shift only Kid saw. He tilted his head slightly to one side and Kid’s heart plummeted, he knew that one. That wasn’t an uncomfortable shift.

It was a coy look.

“You seem tense,” the suggestive tone drove his worries home.

Kid bared his teeth in a sneer, “Whatever,” and turned back to his work table.

It wasn’t a clear no, something he knew Killer would take for certainty, but he didn’t want to push him away too harshly.

Didn’t want him to leave him.

Leave him alone, yes, but not…

Though instead of hearing the sound of footsteps walking away, there was a soft clunk of something being placed of the table. When Kid looked up, he immediately wished he hadn’t, because no matter how much he wanted to look away, he couldn’t.

Killer’s eyes had always had a glint of curiosity in them, regarding the redhead from behind long bangs, but to Kid it was a look of knowing, of seeing right through someone or something. It was a calculating gaze that studied him, tried to soak in every inch of his being, made him grab the left side of his coat and pull it closer, not wanting to see the way blonde’s face would twist in disgust when he saw the extent of the damage.

The blonde’s movement was precise when he walked forward, a hand coming to rest on Kid’s right shoulder, yet he stood behind him to the left. Kid sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, body going ridged as he grit his teeth. Oh god he wanted what Killer was offering him, needed it even. He bowed his head and hunched his shoulders, but didn’t say anything.

He didn’t want to get into another fight.

He was happy to fight with anyone.

But not Killer, never Killer.

Kid gasped as warm air ghosted against the back of his neck, lips brushing against scars that hadn’t yet properly formed. He shivered, face heating up as warmth pooled in his gut. He didn’t know if it was on instinct or out of habit, but he leaned forward and bared the back of his neck, his only hand resting on the table.

He was deeply relieved when Killer moved so he was standing on Kid’s right side.

“Kid,” voice so familiar, so understanding and soft that he wanted to pull its owner close and never let go.

“We…shouldn’t…” Kid but his lip, refraining from turning to look at his right hand man.

“Why?”

Such a simple question, and so simply answered too, but Kid hated everything about ‘why’.

He wanted to push Killer away, should push him away, “You’ll hate what you see.”

“Hate you?” a hand cupped the side of his face, forcing him to turn his head even though he desperately wanted to anyway.

Kid could never get enough of the depth of this man’s eyes, how they swum with lust and love for him.

All the more reason they shouldn’t, it’d break him if Killer couldn’t stand the sight of him. He’d rather face the entirety of the Marine fleet, with full knowledge he’d die, than see the slightest grimace on the older man’s face.

“How could I ever hate you?”

Kissing Killer was probably the most familiar thing Kid had ever done, even the first time on the other side of the world it had felt like coming home.

This time felt exactly the same.

The rub of lipstick on lipstick, the line he painted across Kid’s red stained lips, the way he tilted his head to damn near fuck Kid’s mouth with his tongue.

He loved all of it.

He’d missed all of it.

Fingers curled through scarlet locks as Killer sucked on his tongue, the warmth in his stomach quickly fanned into flames as he groaned. There was a firm tug on hair and he gasped, head jerking back, baring his neck. Lips pressed against his pulse, tongue swirling over the spot as his heartbeat quickened at the feeling.

“Kil,” Kid panted, going to lift the hand that was resting behind him on the table to tangle it in the blonde’s long hair.

Killer, however, was leaning against him too hard, the loss of his hand on the surface behind him nearly caused Kid to fall back. His hand slammed back down and he snarled, throat tightening as tears threatened to well up in his eyes.

“Fucking, stupid piece of-“

“Shh,” Killer hushed him, taking a step back and allowing Kid to stand up straight, he grabbed Kid’s now free hand and tugged, “Couch.”

God, the way his voice dropped, the air of command about him. Kid wanted to give in so badly…

Fuck it, fuck this, fuck everything!

Kid took a deep breath and held it for a moment, mind going blank as he made it up. He looked Killer right in the eyes as he pulled his hand back, the other man’s brow raising in surprise. He pulled his arm through he’s black vest, casting off his coat on the right side at the same time. The weight of the red fabric pulled at the vest and with so little holding it up on the left side it all crumpled to the ground.

Leaving Kid bare from the waist up.

His throat tightened as Killer stared at what remained of his left arm, Doc told him to keep the bandage off for as long as possible to ‘let the skin breathe’, get it get used to sensations. A bunch of bullshit of course, but he owed the man his life and Doc had never steered him wrong. He was regretting it now, though.

A bunch of tissue and stuff had been removed, allowing the skin to be sewed over the open wound, making a stump, twisted and deformed. Scars were scattered up what remained of his arm, ending over his left eye, a few too many sword swipes that had been too fast to dodge or use his powers to reflect. He felt gross, wrong, standing there in front of Killer, with his beautiful long hair, soft blue eyes. Sure, his left arm was fucked up from the fight with Red-Hair, but he still looked pretty damn-

“Perfect,” Killer whispered, breaking Kid from his barreling train of self loathing, “you’re perfect.”

His face felt hot as Killer stared down at him, blue eyes so tender as he reached down and hooked some stray hair behind Kid’s ear. Kid bit his lip, body tense, still not too sure about being on the receiving end with another man; old hangups from how his mother’s clients would tell her how ‘pretty’ her seven year old son looked, their gaze leering and making his skin crawl. The only reason he was doing this was because it was Killer. Killer would never hurt him.

And in that he found solace.

“You’re perfect,” Killer murmured, a soft smile curling in his lips.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked to the side-

“Sh-shut up,” he muttered, looking away just as he did back then, during that wild first night.

And just as he did back then, Killer chuckled, pinching Kid’s chin between his index finger and thumb and forcing his head to turn back to look at him, “But you are.”

“Bastard,” Kid mumbled.

Yet the blonde just gave him a soft smile, reaching up to pull off Kid’s welding goggles, letting his hair fall down over his ears and eyes, placing them carefully on the workbench.

“Hmm, and so handsome.”

“You’re one to talk,” Kid scoffed.

“Oh,” Killer chuckled, the sound always made Kid’s heart soar, “a compliment from the great Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid? I must be a lucky man.”

Kid huffed, smirking, the tip of his nose bumping against the blonde’s, “Just shut up and kiss me, dumbass.”

The two of them spun around, Killer now standing with his back to the work table, purple lips pressing against his red ones. Hands placed on his chest prompted him to walk back, pausing nearly every step to steady his lips against Killer’s. Kid’s breath hitched as the heel of his boot hit the couch and he allowed himself to be shoved down.

“Strip,” Killer all but growled, hands trembling as he fumbled with his belt buckle, “‘m gonna ride you.”

Kid had already been kicking off his boots before Killer had even started talking, but he began scrambling after hearing that, struggling to shove his pants down without undoing his belt. By the time he got his pants and boxers around his bare ankles, the older man was already stripped naked.

“Lube’s, uh,” fucking hell, why where his pants so hard to get off?

“Don’t need it,” Killer said, and he promptly shoved Kid to lay on his back, pulling off the redhead’s pants the rest of the way.

He groaned as warm, soft lips wrapped around his already half-hard cock, tongue rubbing down the underside as Killer took him in. Kid’s one hand darted to tangle in the mop of golden locks bouncing up and down above his length, cock throbbing every time Killer gagged or choked on him.

“Fuck,” he panted, a lopsided smirk forming on his lips, “Never seen ya so desperate to suck my dick.”

Kid mentally kicked himself for having a big mouth as Killer pulled off him, though the dark look in those blue eyes promised something far better than a mouth to fuck.

“Can’t help it,” Killer said, tone surprisingly soft for how vigorously he’d been sucking the redhead off, he got up on the couch, gracefully swing a leg over him to straddling his hips, “missed you.”

That shut him up, his cheeks and ears turning a similar shade of red to his hair.

Kid’s breath hitched as the tip of his cock nudged Killer’s lubed hole. Fucking hell, he’d gone and prepped himself for this, the idea of the blonde coming in here with the specific goal of riding him made Kid’s head spin. Killer only bottomed when he offered it to his captain, and even then it was with specific rules: he had to be facing Kid, Killer was in charge and no finishing inside. Sure, he offered now and then, but it was always a calm question, sometimes a reward or something, not bursting into his workshop and seducing him onto the couch!

It was like one of his fantasies was playing out.

“You’ve gone awfully quiet, Kid,” the way Killer drew out his name as he rocked back against his cock had him groaning.

“Fuck, c’mon, need ya to- fuck,” he slammed his head back against the cushion beneath him as the blonde slowly sank down.

“What was that?” Killer huffed, shifting to grab the back of the couch with one hand and slowly jerk himself off with the other, “Can’t hear you through your whimpering.”

“F-fuck off,” but all the bite had left his voice, too subdued by the tight heat slowly engulfing his dick.

They both groaned when Killer’s sat fully on Kid’s length, the redhead’s eyes fixated on the ceiling and his one hand holding Killer’s hip in a death grip.

The blonde sighed as he circled his hips, slowly rocking on Kid’s lap, head falling back as he continued to lazily stroke his cock, “Fuck, I missed this.”

All Kid could do was whimper, it had been too long and he hadn’t been able to properly get off for a few days, still not used to using his non dominant hand to jerk off. The tension in his lower back was maddening as he fought to not move, knowing he’d come as soon as he did.

“K-Kil,” he all but whined, hand trying to get the older man to stop moving, “f-fuck, pull off, ‘m gonna-“

“Do it,” Killer purred as he started to bounce on Kid’s lap, the light slap of skin on skin fogging Kid’s mind further with lust, “want you to come inside, wanna feel you for days.”

“Fuck! Oh fuck,” his thighs shook and he snapped his hips up, eyes rolling as he came the hardest he had in months.

Killer panted, eyes blown wide with lust as he gazed down at Kid, cock hard and red with arousal. He seemed to take a moment to centre himself, and Kid couldn’t help but worry if he’d changed his mind about wanting his captain to finish inside. But instead of making a face as he lifted himself off Kid’s still hard length, Killer’s eyes focused on the workbench. The blonde got off the couch, a drop of cum running down a trembling inner thigh as he made his way to the table.The older man rummaged through a draw, letting out a huff as he pulled out a half empty tube of lube. Kid groaned and bit his lip as Killer began to lather up his own cock.

“My turn,” he said with a dark smile.

Kid whimpered, excitement coiling in his gut.

***

(Bonus)

Sweat stuck to his forehead, eyes fixed on nothing as he gazed up at the ceiling and he lightly rubbed his hand on Killer’s shoulder, heartbeat finally at a calm pace. The blonde hummed, nuzzling against his chest, body half draped over his, being careful to not put any of his weight on Kid’s injured side.

“Kid?” Killer finally broke the peaceful air with his soft, questioning tone.

Kid hummed to let the blonde know he’d heard, bringing his hand up to gently scratch the back of the man’s head.

“That sketch,” Killer nodded to his workbench, “is that gonna be your prosthetic?”

His chest swelled with pride as he smirked, “Yep, looks pretty awesome, doesn’t it.”

“…Does it…are those…cannons?”

Kid blinked, frowning, “Course, that’s why it’s awesome! Gonna be fully functional and everything.”

“There’s…four?” Killer’s said with a tone of disbelief, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Five,” he corrected, a smug smile spreading across his face, “gonna have the hand turn into the fifth.”

Above him, Killer began to tremble, shoulders shaking as he turned his head to bury his face in the back of the couch.

“Are you…” Kid’s hairless brow shot up, “oi! Bastard! Don’t laugh!”

Killer threw back his head and cackled, never ashamed to laugh when it was just in front of his captain. Kid’s face flushed and he bit his lip, as much as he hated it when people laughed at him, he never cared if it was Killer, the sound of full blown laughter so rare from the blonde that he’d get his head stuck in the ship’s railing if it meant hearing it. Blonde locks covered his chest as Killer pressed his forehead between his pecs.

After a couple more seconds the older man calmed down, lifting his head to grin at Kid, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before saying: “God I love you, you absolute dumbass.”

Now Kid’s face was beet red, “Sh-…shut up!”

#one piece #otp #kid x killer #kid/killer #massacre soldier killer #eustass kid #kidd x reader #eustass kidd #line's self indulgent otp kinktober #my writing

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maybe1649 · 2 years

Text

In another life [Shadowpeach].

Lady Bone Demon never stopped talking about destiny, achieving her great ideal of achieving a new world that is perfect, ridding it of anything that breaks her ideas, that was something that MK and others could not allow, not even Wukong.

The battle was difficult, and no matter how much they did everything, even joining forces, nothing seemed to be enough, they all ended up on the ground, unable to get up, even the invincible monkey king, who ended up very hurt, unable to get up, next to Macaque.

Yes, next to Macaque. Both in agony, in pain, with blood pouring out, they were going to die and no one would be able to stop Lady Bone Demon anymore, the world had ended. Everyone else had died.

How ironic, the only one who stood by his side from his beginning to his end was Macaque.

He felt no fear of death, only deep pain, feeling inadequate, having failed to save anyone, and the last person left in his heart was going to die by his side, someone who, perhaps, could have been saved if he wasn't going to help them, but would have fled far away as usual, but no, he came back, came back, and not only to help, but took a few blows from Wukong being possessed. The monkey king wasn't happy about that, deep in his heart he wished he would have run away, that at least he would be all right.

But he didn't want his moon to be hurt.

"His moon", ah, yes. In the past he called him that, they had those sweet nicknames among many others, because they loved each other. Wukong had to admit it, a truth he never told, and that was that the best part of his life was Macaque, he regretted what he did so much, and now he would see him die, a second time, again because of him.

His vision was blurred, he crawled as far as he could to get to Macaque's body, a Macaque who could barely breathe, with great difficulty. Both lying on the ground, looking at each other, breathing raggedly, in agony, looking, perhaps, for some comfort in the other. Because even Macaque shared the feeling, he was going to die and he knew it, he was still upset with Wukong, but that affection never died, for that reason, he wanted to give himself as a last memory, to know that he was in his last moments, that he was not alone, that they were not alone.

The monkey king didn't care to see LBD approaching to end their pathetic lives, he just wanted to see the eyes of his moon.

━━━━━━━━╰☆╮━━━━━━━━

They say that when you die, you see your life flash before your eyes. Wukong went through something similar, he had so many doubts, he cursed himself so much.

What made him leave Flower Fruit Mountain, why, why couldn't he just stay by Macaque's side?

Wukong wondered that, but the truth is he knew the answer, he always knew, but he never told that part of the story, yet he kept it in mind, at all times.

The monkey king left home because he was looking for something else.

He already had everything his heart needed, what more could he want? A home, family, love, food, he lacked nothing, he had Macaque, he always had him and having him was wonderful, he loved him so much, he never stopped, but he abandoned him.

He wanted something more, it wasn't enough, and he simply left. He found knowledge, hunger for power, that managed to satisfy the monkey king, it did, for a long time, but he was so stupid at the time that he wasn't realizing the situation, he wasn't realizing how he had abandoned Macaque, because, even though he always came back to his arms, he would leave again.

He slept hugging Macaque, holding him in his arms, receiving his kisses, his words full of love, but Wukong was still looking for something else. Macaque was never the problem, never, the problem is that the monkey king saw beyond even when he had the world in front of him, and thanks to that, he never saw the harm he did to Macaque.

His Macaque, his beloved Macaque, who never did anything wrong, who only waited for Wukong's return, the return of the sun to his lonely nights, feeling so miserable every hour he was gone, wondering what he did wrong, why he always left, feeling inadequate, his head a mess, all for loving.

Why was loving so painful? Love shouldn't hurt, love shouldn't be like this, love should be a beautiful feeling, and it was.

But young Wukong was so reckless, so new to that subject, his only love had been Macaque, but he forgot that it wasn't all about just loving, it was about constancy, knowing that you must be there for that person. But no, the monkey king kept missing his partner, who was just begging for love, who was totally fine with just waiting for the other to turn to look at him and run into his arms when he remembered.

Because genuinely Macaque loved him, more than anything. Because from his point of view, Wukong was indeed his life, his priority.

Sun Wukong knew that, and that's why he felt bad remembering it. To remember how he left Macaque so many times, to know that he stayed sleepless nights just to be there to receive him, because the dark-haired one never stopped doing his part, never stopped loving so selflessly of even his own life.

He had to live with the great guilt of his sins, sins that weren't of stealing or anything like that, but those of letting Macaque live in constant pain, in loneliness, because he had no one else, Wukong knew it and yet he never did anything about it, he really wanted to beat himself up, to make himself react to avoid leaving, to avoid meeting his master, just to go back to sunny days and sweet nights with his moon, with Macaque.

Maybe, if he hadn't done anything stupid like that, none of that would have happened, he would never have lost, hurt or killed Macaque, probably MK and the others wouldn't have died either, who knows.

Even today he regretted so much, and now, at death's door, even more. He could only cry.

━━━━━━━━╰☆╮━━━━━━━━

Wukong in his lamentation could feel a hand on his face, a hand that with difficulty and trembling, wiped away his tears.... It was Macaque.

Even now, always doing everything right.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Mac..." Wukong apologized without stopping his tears, he felt he didn't deserve that compassion, no, he didn't, after everything he did, he deserved that agony. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I never wanted it to end like this."

Macaque knew it wasn't an apology for a specific issue, it was for everything. For ending up there, for being on the verge of death, for having failed him. What a relief it felt to hear an apology, but right now there was no point in getting upset.

"It's okay, Peaches.... We always hurt each other. "

"No, it's not okay... If I... Hadn't been a jerk... Maybe, just maybe, things could have ended better, Mac. I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to leave you, I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to... Kill you. "

Wukong hated himself, because he self-sabotaged himself, he broke his happiness, it wasn't enough with what he had.

"It doesn't make sense anymore..." Macaque was not going to yell at him, nor hate him, just enjoy the fact that, at least, he would not be alone.

He wasn't afraid of death, because he already went through that, because he already tried things that hurt more, like being abandoned by your love, lowering yourself to only beg for crumbs of love.

"Still, I'm sorry. "

"I know. "

"In another life... I'd like to change things. To do so many things that I didn't do and should have done. "

Like never leaving, treating Macaque better, just being by his side, not going through losing him again, not hurting him, taking care of him for what he is: His most precious person.

"I'd like to see that. "

The tails of both monkeys intertwined one last time, like in the past, where they always did that, a way to feel close to their so beloved person. Now it served as a way to face their end, feeling LBD stop in front of them, ready to end their lives, although it was not necessary, because, they themselves, closed their eyes.

Wishing that, if life gives them another chance, not to part.

━━━━━━━━╰☆╮━━━━━━━━

"Wukong? "

The monkey king heard a voice so far away calling out to him, by so much.

"WUKONG! WUKONG! "

A voice he knew so well.

"SUN WUKONG! "

This time, Wukong got up, remaining seated on the bed, agitated, looking to the sides, feeling the sweat pouring down, he felt his heart going a mile a minute and he didn't know where he was. No, he did know, he was in.... His home? Then he saw him, his beloved Macaque, sitting on the side of the bed, looking at him with concern and a cold water cloth in his hand.

He couldn't believe it, what did that mean? Not long ago he was facing his death.

"Mac? Is that you? " Wukong asked.

"Of course, are you all right, Peach? Oh, my... You really scared me to death, you idiot. "

"What happened? "

"Don't you remember? " Macaque sighed, at least he could relax his worry. "You were very reckless. You snuck into the garden of the gods and stole a fruit, you thought it was one of those of immortality, I told you it wasn't and you wanted to prove it to me, until you bit it and.... You simply fell unconscious. You hadn't... Almost a week without waking up since then. I, uh... I really thought that I was going to lose you...."

Wukong noticed Macaque's deep pain, he sure went through a big scare, taking care of him for a week, but then what was that all about? Right now he wouldn't think about it, he just hugged Macaque, feeling his scent, his precious scent that he had missed so much to have close, impregnated in it.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to worry you, Mac... I'm so sorry.... "

"That's... It doesn't matter. Just don't do that again! I was able to find out a little bit, they were some kind of fruits of visions, but only immortal beings are able to taste it without problems, see? All because you're so careless."

Curious, that means that Wukong didn't see his life pass away when he died, it was the opposite, he saw his future pass away, not his past.

Although, that meant that...

If they weren't immortal, if it was when he snuck into the garden of gods with no one, it meant he wasn't abandoning Macaque yet, it meant he could.... Change.

"Peach?" Macaque called out, for his partner had not spoken again.

"I'm sorry, I... I was just thinking." He tightened his embrace. "I really, really missed you so much, Mac. "

Macaque smiled, so relieved, and not being able to be upset with his partner about it.

"Me too, Peach.... Too much. "

This time, Wukong only planned to stay with Macaque.

Because he didn't need anything else, anyone else, only his precious Macaque, he could live satisfied with him alone, with his simple life.

As long as he was by his side.

#shadowpeach #angst #oneshot #lmk #lmk macaque #six eared macaque #lmk wukong #sun wukong

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dalleyan · 1 year

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Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Adventures of Theodred, Son of Eomer, ch 6 posted, 5-13-23)

Theodred's adventures as he travels with Freahelm, trying to find a direction for his life. (Adventure, Drama, Angst, Romance, Family, Humor) (19 chapter story)

Chapter 6 - (begins April, 44 IV)

Their return to Edoras was just in time to greet the arrival of another new babe. A welcome feast was postponed, with the ready consent of the Dale party, when Fele went into labor only hours after they reached Meduseld. Lothiriel quickly went to her side, to assist Frideswide as needed and help with Eledher.

Theomund had been twelve years old when his youngest brother was born and, though concerned for his mother, not terribly interested in the whole matter. Over the years, he had lingered on the fringes as his siblings had children, and while he welcomed each new babe and soon became a beloved uncle to them, he had never before truly known the anxiety that attended the birth of a child. This was his beloved Fele crying out in pain; this was his dear Eledher looking frightened by what was happening to his mother.

Lothiriel spent most of her time with the two of them, soothing their nerves and offering reassurances, while leaving Frideswide available to be with her daughter and aid her through the birthing process. Theomund was torn between a desire to hold his wife’s hand and offer his strength to her, and the dread of what actually seeing her would do to his heart. His was such a gentle soul that he knew it would rip him apart that he had been instrumental in bringing such agony upon someone so beloved. Never mind that it was the natural course of things, that she happily bore the pain to give him a child. No, he could best deal with this from a distance, cruel though it seemed to him. Even his mother’s assurances that Fele likely was too busy to notice his absence did not entirely quell his feelings of guilt over the matter. But Eledher needed him also. There was some solace in that.

The birthing went long into the night and not until nearly dawn did the babe come forth – a fine son, which they named Haldred. Once it was determined that mother and child were well, and out of any danger, the happy family sought rest. Lothiriel took Eledher back to the Golden Hall with her for Dariel to tend while she slept, leaving his parents to rest also without having to see to his needs. Frideswide remained on hand to help as needed.

When Theomund and Fele had married, Theomund had insisted he would not have Frideswide live anywhere other than with them, unless she desired it. She had rather expected he would wish to establish his own home and be free of parental interference, but his generous nature did not see things that way. They were his family – all three of them. He had insisted that she choose any room in the house that she liked, and though it was downstairs rather than up with most of the family bedchambers, she had selected an unused room on the ground floor with a sunny view of the garden. Because Fele continued to work, without objection from Theomund who knew she enjoyed it, Frideswide had insisted she be given the charge to keep the house for them. Even so, Theomund had finally relented and hired a household servant to assist her. He did not want her to feel she must work for her keep. Whatever she did in his house must be by choice rather than obligation.

Lothiriel was grateful to find, upon rising from her nap, that Dariel had already taken it upon herself to make arrangements for supper that evening. Privately, it pleased her that Dariel felt free to step into the role as head of the household, even with Lothiriel in residence. Far from feeling threatened, she knew the younger woman would be better served gaining such experience while she was around to support her, than learning while under pressure in the Queen’s absence. She had often aided Lothiriel in the past, and there had likely been a few occasions when she’d had to act during the time Eomer and Lothiriel were off traveling, but Lothiriel wanted her to feel comfortable in the role that would someday be hers as queen of the Riddermark. Dariel would never seek to supplant her in any way, and she was quite certain the woman would yield if asked to do so. Accordingly, Lothiriel made a point of letting Dariel see her pleasure and acceptance of her actions, making no effort to countermand any of her instructions.

Supper was a joyous occasion as all celebrated the newest member of the king’s extended household. Lothiriel discovered that in her absence, Elfwine and Gird had hit it off tremendously well, and had spent most of the day together, in the company of their fathers, discussing proposals for their future interaction. Likely they would have snared Arawine to join them, but he and Theodred had been up early and coerced Kata into going riding with them. They knew all too well what would happen if they remained near home when their fathers were in ‘diplomatic mode’. While Arawine understood he had an obligation to be a part of that diplomacy also, he was still young enough to enjoy being largely free of responsibility in that area. He would accept his role as liaison, but he did not want to spend all his time indoors discussing trade relations for hours on end.

continue reading on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46771651/chapters/118809001

#Eomer #Lothiriel #Lord of the Rings #Elfwine Chronicles #LOTR #Theodred son of Eomer #Freahelm son of Eothain #original characters

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mlmxreader · 2 years

Text

To Die | Wilhelm Wicki x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: "Just keep your eyes on me, don't look at anything else" And our dear and beloved wicki? Please

summary: Wicki gets hurt, badly, and you're there to pick up the pieces.

tws: injury, violence, blood, wounds, swearing, smoking

Wicki couldn't be sure how long he had been out, a crackling sound coming from his clothes when he tried to move, an even worse sharp pain shooting through his chest when he opened his mouth and took what felt like his first breath; groping his chest and shuddering as he realised. Flecks and spots of dried blood littered the palm of his hands. Through blurred eyes, he could see bodies being dragged off, he heard distorted grumbles and cries of agony - Stiglitz's voice. He could remember meeting Hammersmark, he remembered hearing Stiglitz saying "say auf Wiedersehen to your Nazi balls", but everything after that was a blur. A mess of blood painting the air and smoke smearing the red stains.

It wasn't until you crashed down next to him, on your knees amongst blood and smoke, that he dared to pay attention to something.

"Alright, alright, okay, alright," your voice was shaking, uneven and panicked. He wanted to grab your hands and tell you it was all going to be okay. "Fuck... okay. Alright. Aldo! Aldo get your fucking ass down here now! Aldo! Donny! Omar! C'mon, you useless sons of bitches, fucking get down here!"

Wicki could feel your hands trembling as they came to lay on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt and looking at the damage. Thank fuck he had kept that metal cigarette tin you had given him, an anniversary present, and thank fuck even more that he had put it in his breast pocket. He could feel the wounds throb and spasm each time your fingers graced over them, not even applying any pressure but still making him seethe and wince.

"Wicki, baby, just keep your eyes on me, don't look at anything else," you told him gently, although the words came out stumbled and rushed. "Please, don't fucking die on me... we got Stiglitz out. Hammersmark's being patched up by some fucking vet. Hicox... he'll recover. C'mon, baby, you have to make it. Look at me."

Wicki couldn't take his eyes off of you, trying not to think about how he may have succumbed to his wounds a long while ago and these were merely the last sights for a dying man; but then he felt something at his back, someone lifting him and chucking him onto the top of a broken table to haul him out. He didn't take his eyes off of you. He couldn't.

When he went under, the veterinarian having given him a bit too much but not enough to kill him again, you didn't leave his side; when he woke, stiff and groggy, in terrible, awful, nausea, the first thing he saw was you. And he smiled.

"Did I die?"

"No, my love," you told him with a shake of your head. "Actually, the vet fixed you up pretty good... said you'll be right as rain in about six weeks."

Wicki winced at how bright the lights were. "The others?"

"Hugo's okay, he's battered to fuck, but he'll be okay," you started, "the British guy, Hicox, he's gonna be alright, too. Hammersmark got a cast, but that's about it."

"What happened?"

You frowned, not sure if you should tell him about the shootout, about the bargain with the Nazi soldier who was thankfully put down by Hammersmark in the end, about the change of plans for the cinema; perhaps, you thought, it may be best if he were to hear about it when he wasn't fresh off the operating table.

"A whole lot of shit," you chuckled softly. "I'll tell you all about it later, but... you need to rest."

His voice cracked a little as he dared to ask, "are we gonna go home?"

You clenched your jaw as you shook your head, swiping a bloodied hand down your face and leaving just a little smear of it on your skin, not really caring about it too much; a little bit of blood from helping dig bullets out of your boyfriend could be forgiven.

"No. Aldo said he's gonna get an evacuation for us, Hugo and Hicox included, if everything goes to plan."

Wicki nodded, weakly gripping your bloodied hand as he cleared his throat and let out a little yawn, the painkillers starting to settle in as his eyes waterer, rendering the corners of his vision blurry and bubbled. "You'll stay?"

You tapped his hand gently, nodding as you brought your legs up to rest them beside his, leaning back in your chair and lighting up a cigarette as you hummed softly. "Always."

You couldn't have been more grateful that he slept until the afternoon, being transported from that shitty little vet clinic through to allied territory; Donny and Omar were badly hurt, Aldo said they had been taken to a military hospital along with Hugo and Hicox. The doctors wouldn't look at Wicki.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Ah, somethin' to do with a lack o' staff," Aldo shrugged. "They said the nurses ain't gon' bother."

You shook your head, nearly breaking the cigarette between your fingers in half as you clenched your jaw. "You sure it ain't because-"

"Nah, it ain't," he shook his head. "Y'know I would've kicked off if it was."

"Okay," you said slowly, letting out a harsh sigh as you looked back into the tent. Wicki was up, at least, flicking through a newspaper with a cigarette between his lips.

You couldn't take your eyes away from the bandages around his torso, and you frowned.

"Hey," Aldo nudged you gently. "He's gon' be alright. We're all gonna be alright... g'on, go sit with ya boyfriend for a while. I'll see if I can't find a goddamn doctor fuckin' around."

Quietly, you agreed, and flicked your cigarette away before you made your way inside the tent; at least you were all in allied territory, and at least everyone was alive. At least you and Wicki made it out, together.

"You feeling alright?" You asked, and when he nodded, you smiled. "Aldo's gone to see if he can't grab a doctor."

Wicki frowned, shaking his head as he reached for your hand, the newspaper falling to his lap. "Mein geliebter, I'm okay."

You gave his hand a little squeeze before bringing his palm to your lips, leaving a gentle kiss against his skin. "I just wanna make sure. Y'know what it's like these days, infections are fucking brutal, and-"

"I'm okay," he repeated softly, quietly. "Trust me."

You swallowed thickly, and bit at the inside of your lip. "We're gonna go home at some point."

"We are?" A flicker of hope came to his eyes.

You had not seen that in a long, long time and you almost wanted to howl and to scream with joy at noticing it; you nodded, though, and cleared your throat.

"Yeah, we're going home, baby," you started, "as soon as everybody's healed up, we're getting on a plane, meeting with the General, and we're fucking off home. All of us."

"Will you finally tell me what happened that night?"

You nodded. "You won't like it, though."

"I want to hear it," his voice got lower, like he didn't quite believe his own words. "From you, mein geliebter."

#mlem writes #wicki x reader #wilhelm wicki x reader #wilhelm wicki #inglorious basterds x reader #inglorious basterds imagine #inglourious basterds imagine #inglourious basterds x reader #inglourious basterds #inglorious basterds

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warpandwander · 4 months

Text

Mom

Hi Mom.

You died on Sunday.

I stood there in the ICU, by the foot of your bed, watching your chest rise and fall. You looked asleep like it was just another day, just another bed. If I leaned into your ears and whispered my name, would you wake up and smile at me? I tried, a few times; you were too soundly asleep. It was confusing in this place, to tell the difference between life and death, because the machines were doing an exceptional task of preserving the illusion of breathing. They even sounded like a low snore. Lies.

In a few minutes, they closed the curtains so we had some privacy, and asked me if I was ready. Would I ever be? I nodded. And they switched off the ventilator and pulled the breathing tube away. I was the only one there to witness it; I had adamantly asked for it. Dad and Sis had spent too much time in here already to bring themselves to see this. I held your hand, kissed your cheek, and told you I loved you and that you had been amazing. I cried the brief halting cry of a man who hadn't wept in a dozen years. You deserved more.

The nurse told me it could be an hour before your vitals flatlined. Maybe in the meantime, you are still in there, waiting to be spoken to. Maybe if I used the right words, spoke them loud enough, or said them often enough? Maybe if I had come sooner, prayed harder, had made more phone calls or visited more often, or hugged you more when I had all those chances?

And with one flick of a switch, you were gone.

We decided we will take you home for the evening. Back to that house that you loved, for one more night. You rested in a glass case, looking gorgeous in your beloved pink sari which your sisters had dressed you up in, adorned with flowers. You didn't seem to mind the raft of visitors, friends, family, relatives that leaned over and spoke to you or cried or eulogized, which was ironic because you were such a light sleeper.

All night the lights stayed on, and someone or the other pulled up a chair next to you and chatted away. I liked watching them and imagining how you would respond to this or that, knowing how your face could never quite hide what you really thought of something. No points for subtlety Mom!

Monday morning, the religious ceremony started, that final one that you shall be bothered with. I wore traditional Tamil white, was given a bath by the priest, chanted at and smeared with ash and vermilion. Downstairs, with the entire clan of your loved ones in attendance, you were given a full Hindu ritual service. You weren't fond of the spotlight but you have no choice in this one.

In the open hearse, I stood by you, intermittently welling up and smiling at some random memory while we rolled through traffic to the crematorium. Someone sat at the edge of the vehicle spraying flowers over the side, while everyone else followed in another van. I spoke to you all the way; I hope you heard it all in the din of that atrocious traffic - apologies, thankyous, iloveyous, promises.

And when after an elaborate cremation ceremony, I was handed the deep earthen pot with your ashes, my week of silent agony, mostly made of calm rational surrender, interrupted by short uncontrollable urges to fold and cry, converged. I felt utter loss. The pot. The woman that had created me was now in it, in a form that weighed nothing. Pure, truly irrecoverable.

Along with Dad and a few others, the pot balanced on my left shoulder, I walked the few minutes to the banks of the Kaveri. That big beautiful river. A calm steady current. Banks crowded with coconut trees. Grey skies, and cool breeze. A few other people around, a few children splashing. I walked in into the water, feet on sandy floor, until I was waist deep. I faced the direction of flowing waters, and gently let go of the pot behind me, and was asked not to look back.

The emotional catharsis I had been fervently hoping for, arrived when the pot sank. From every cell in my body, I felt the anguish drain out into the river, drawing with it all the pain, the loss, the scent of hospitals and funerals, leaving behind only your memories, and an overpowering relief. As if you had held my hands and led me into the waters yourself like an ancient goddess, cured your beloved son of desolation, bid goodbye by kissing my forehead, and dissolved away smiling into the waters.

Dad and everyone else watched but left my solitude undisturbed. Thank you. I looked around - currents, trees, bridge, rainclouds, splashes, sand - and tried to memorize that setting in detail. I sensed the beginnings of as beautiful peace.

I waded back to the sand, and hugged Dad. While the rest of the party walked on, Dad and I stood back on the sand banks, facing the quiet river one last time, arms on each other's shoulders.

I waved, 'Bye Mummy, I love you'.

Dad waved at you and said, 'Bye Bye Mummy kutty. I'll see you in my next life'.

And together, Dad and I walked out of that chapter of our stories where we still had you.

You were born here in this town, this little insignificant corner of the universe, and you traveled to the ends of the great Indian subcontinent, lived in mega cities, spoiled and were spoilt by a lovely husband, raised two grateful children, doted on two grandchildren, and imprinted on the hearts of so many. And then you returned to this same place for the final crossing.

You loved us. You were adored in return. You will be cherished forever.

Bye Mummy.

I miss you.

I hope I see you again someday in that other place.

[Aug 2019]

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chocoenvy · 2 years

Text

Let's play a game of dissection (part one)

Part Two Part Three Part Four(Final)

Inspired by this ask that @is-very-sad got. as soon as i read it the amount of inspiration that hit me just- yeah it got super long lol

WARNINGS!!!

-reader is tortured, the torture is detailed and isn't glossed over at all. Cult behaviors. The original ask reffered to the reader with fem pronouns but I used gn pronouns. Gore, blood. Imposter au.

Please tell me if I missed any warnings as this is fairly graphic, but if you're okay with all of that then read more under the cut :))

word count: 1321

Three days.

You had ran for three days straight.

You didn't need as much food or rest as they did so you were sure that eventually eventually you'd be able to escape them.

But as they chased you around Teyvat, more people started following you.

It was when Xiao and the rest of the adepti joined the chase that you didn't stand a chance. You grew hungry and tired. You don't even remember passing out.

When you awoke, the sun beamed down bright on you. You weren't sure how long you had been asleep, but from how groggy you were it felt like forever.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open and regained your senses. The first thing you noticed was your hands bound behind your back. You twitched in the restraints, they were bound tight. Your legs were also tied to your arms, restraining your movement even more. Even the slightest twitch sent a throb of dull pain throughout your body.

"They're awake." You heard a familiar voice say, "Inform the Liyue Qixing as soon as possible."

"Yes Rex Lapis."

Footsteps scurried off and you looked up blearily. Zhongli, Venti, Jean, and a few other Knights of Favonius were standing before you. You were sure there was nothing left of your heart to break but you were wrong. Despite having been chased around by your beloved characters for who knows how long, seeing them up close broke your heart. Tears pricked the backs of your eyes and your hands and bottom lip shook.

"Pathetic." Venti sneered, "You should've thought twice about impersonating our god. You don't have the right to cry."

You flinched as he moved his hand. A sick, twisted delight bubbled in Venti's chest.

"I-I-I don't even know what you're talking abou-about-"

"You claimed to know everything about us, be our best friends, love us and yet you don't even know the god we worship?" Jean spat.

You lowered your head and squeezed your eyes shut so you didn't have to see Jean's angry face.

They took it as confirmation of you being guilty.

A harsh kick met your stomach and you toppled back. It was then, painfully looking up at the burning sun, that you noticed you were in the middle of Liyue Harbor. With a crowd starting to gather around you.

Another kick to your side caused you to roll over and curl in on yourself. Shutting your eyes tightly so you could pretend it wasn't your beloved characters beating you.

"Hu Tao," You muttered in between kicks and rocks being thrown at you, "Chongyun," You choked out droplets of blood, "Xingqiu," You whimpered, "Qiqi," You were barely whispering, "Zhongli," Huffing for air, "Beidou, Ningguang," You became almost frantic whispering their names, "Jean, Amber, Noelle," Hoping it would distract you from the pain, "Lisa, Venti, Benny, Keqing-"

You choked on your own air as someone grabbed the collar of your worn down shirt. They brought you up face-to-face. You only opened your eyes a crack and saw glowing golden-orange eyes before you were knocked to the ground with a harsh punch to your face.

Cheers went up as your head made harsh contact with the floor. But they quieted down when heels clicked the floor. You cracked your eyes open, peaking at the person parting the crowd.

"Ningguang," You whispered, but it only sounded like a breath of air.

She grabbed you by your hair and harshly lifted you up to look at her. Your face was twisted in agony, blood dripping down your nose and star-like tears staining your face.

You fought for air, your bruised ribs hurt everytime you inhaled or exhaled, "Ning..." You huffed, "Pleas-"

She smacked you harshly, disgust painting her beautiful face.

"Don't you dare address me so informally." She sneered, dropping you as though you were the most disgusting thing on this earth.

...to be honest you probably were.

She wiped her hand off on her clothes, her lips drawn back, disgusted. Afterwards, she snapped, "Restrain them."

Immediately, the two closest to you grabbed your arms, still bound. You could see strands of brunnette and blue hair.

"Grab their hair."

They did so, a hand with rings held your hair tightly. You struggled to get them to let go but only ended up yelping in pain as your hair got tugged out and they grappled your arms back in place. Bruises littered your arms in their wake, pulsating and screaming in pain.

Ningguang grappled your chin in her left hand, with her right, she produced a sharp blade made out of geo. She forced your mouth open, the person holding you down on your left helped her and held your jaw. Ningguang used her sharp nails to keep your mouth from closing. Even a tiny movement caused her nails to poke the roof of your mouth.

You whined, trying to move away to no avail. In one fell swoop, Ningguang had forced your tongue out of your mouth and had cut it.

A strangled scream tore from your throat, you thrashed wildly, not caring for your broken ribs, nose, or the cuts on the roof of your mouth. The adrenaline blocked any pain from registering you just knew that you needed to run.

Sadly, the characters were much more capable than you were. They got you back into place and Ningguang continued to slowly carve your tongue off.

You couldn't breath, you could barely even scream. Blood fell out of your mouth and down your throat, choking you with the iron stench. Wildly, you kicked your legs still tied to your hands. Somehow, thanks to the adrenaline, you freed your legs from the rope and started kicking Ningguang wildly. Your ankles were bleeding but you couldn't feel the pain. You could only feel how your tongue was only halfway attatched. How you could still move it.

Panic had completely taken over your system. You couldn't think and you only knew one thing you had to get away.

You only landed a few kicks at Ningguang before someone else, with a thin ponytail and glowing orange-gold eyes, restrained your legs.

With renewed rage, Ningguang's face, now twisted with her anger and bruised from one of your kicks, she grabbed your face and plunged her knife back into your mouth. Slowly sawing your tongue off.

You could only see a blurry Ningguang, tears almost completely obscurring your vision. They fell down your face as though they were racing, to see who could escape the awful situation first. You couldn't hear anything, the world was muffled. You knew they were shouting at you, cheering as the blood fell out of your mouth, but you didn't know what they were saying. You could only taste and smell blood as it dropped down your throat. As your tongue got sawed off, your tastebuds went with it. You only hoped you wouldn't be able to taste the blood soon. With the amount of adrenaline that was pumping through your body, you could barely feel any pain outside from your tongue. It was the only prominent feeling, the only thing your brain could register. The only thing you knew and that you had to stop it. You had to run.

But you couldn't run.

Only choke on blood as you tried to scream. Yelp as your favorite characters restrained you from being able to escape.

Black spots invaded your vision as you saw Ningguang with your tongue in her hand, raising it up for the entirety of Liyue, part of Mondstat and maybe even Inazuma to see.

They cheered and clapped as you screamed, your mouth feeling empty. You spat out as much blood as you could. You weren't sure how much of your blood you had consumed but it was starting to make you sick. You felt bile tickle the back of your throat as you whined.

Take me anywhere but here. You cried.

And Teyvat listened.

#SAGAU #genshin self aware #self aware genshin #cult genshin au #genshin impact cult au #im kinda proud of this???#it was so fun thank you for letting me steal this <3

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hwanchaesong · 2 years

Text

"Ghost of You"

Synopsis: dealing with your beloved's demise will never be easy

👤: Jeong Yunho

📼: Ghost - Justin Bieber

genre & warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of death, implications of trauma, suicide, and depression, sprinkle of fluff, fantasy (inspired by anohana)

word count: 2.8k

requested by: @xddjoong

Birds chirping, soft wind blowing, and the bright sunlight shines down upon you as you walk down the isle of freshly trimmed grass. A peaceful and warm day outside yet your heart is frozen and is filled with agony.

Halting your steps in front of a tombstone, you crouched and placed the bouquet of red and pink carnations down.

'I still can't forget you, i love and miss you so much.'

"Hey honey," you mumbled, hands reaching over to touch the engraved name in the marble stone, "how are you doing over there? I hope you're happy."

'Even if I'm not.'

"It's been a year since you departed from me," you took a deep breath, feeling the emotions welling up inside you, "don't worry though, I'm doing my best to live my life."

Lies.

Yes, you were living your life but not at its fullest, you're just going with the flow, feeling hollow every day without your starlight.

A lot of people comforted you, told you words of encouragement, they never left your side and stayed with you at your darkest moments.

You appreciated all of their efforts, thankful that they didn't think of you as a dramatic ass person, thus, you did your best to feign a smile.

Fake it 'til you make it, what's worse is when they took it as a genuine one.

'If it's him, he'll surely know.'

After a long tiring day, you plopped down on your bed.

It felt empty and cold, the other side is absent of something, or more specifically, someone.

'Life wouldn't be this difficult only if I still have you by my side, Yunho.'

There was a lot of time that you wished for him to come back, you were willing to sacrifice everything just to be with him once again. You were ready to give your own life up if it means that you'll see him on the other side.

You ache for him so much that life did not matter to you any more, and it took a lot of convincing from your family and friends for you to continue your journey even without him.

You closed your eyes, trying to force the tears back down from where they came from.

Looks like it'll be an another episode of you crying yourself to sleep.

When you opened your eyes, an eerily familiar face greeted you, even its voice is the exact same of the person that you were thinking about before you lulled yourself to dreamland.

"Come on, Y/N, wake up!"

Okay, now you're definitely awake.

A loud shriek came out of your lips, scrambling away from the unknown yet intimate person that is currently kneeling on the floor, right across from your bed.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

He sighed and stood up, resulting in you screaming your head off once again as you threw your pillows at him. You were about to cover yourself with your blanket (sort of like a protection although it's useless), only then you noticed that the pillows did not hit him, but it went through him instead.

What in the world?

A staring contest between you and the entity ensued, him breaking the silence when it got louder to the point that your ears might bleed due to the intensity that is building up between the two of you.

"It's me, Jeong Yunho."

Commotion so early in the morning, you're so sure that your neighbors might file a complaint with how noisy you are.

After all hell breaks loose, your heart finally manages to calm itself down, you spoke in a tight manner, still not believing the paranormal shit that is currently happening to you.

"Explain yourself." you ordered the tall, puppy-like man like he's about to be scolded.

Being a skeptic, you rejected his first statement of 'I am a ghost and I am here because I have a mission!'

Fuck that, you're not gonna accept an unreasonable bullshit like that.

So there you stood in all your glory, acting all tough with your arms crossed over your chest, when in reality, your soul is already breaking with the sight of him.

"I really have nothing to say anymore!" he raised his hands out of frustration, a sign that he really doesn't know much aside from what was instilled in his mind.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, dealing with the impending tears as you tried to find a solution for this messed up situation.

"Okay," you started, pointing at him while he looks at you expectantly, "if you really are my Yunho-"

You temporarily stopped when you saw his eyes soften at your words.

'My Yunho.'

Your term of endearment that you always use whenever you had the chance. It symbolizes your undying love for him, a proof that he is yours, and you are his.

You cleared your throat, regaining your composure, "If you really are Yunho then give me a-"

"You ate a whole gochu because you want to impress me for our first date, but it ended up with you choking on water."

You were dumbfounded and it shows in your face. Nobody knows that incident but you and your lover, and he didn't even let you finish your sentence yet he knows what you're about to say.

"I am aware that you'll ask for evidence. I know you."

Too stunned to speak, Yunho continued to talk, staring at you intently, laying out the truth for you to comprehend.

"Listen, I know it's impossible but I want you to hear me out."

You shook your head, reality dawning on you like a meteor crashing right at your sanity.

This can't be happening, not when you think you have already made progress and now, he's back into this kind of form that makes you remember every memory whether it is good or bad.

An incoming panic attack washes over you but it was quickly replaced by a soothing sensation when a gentle melody resounded throughout the expanse of your room.

It's the lullaby that Yunho always sings to alleviate any negative emotions within you, works like magic and after a few more minutes, you were back to your rational self.

"Are you okay?"

You looked at him, trying to make sense of the conundrum you're in, "I d-don't know."

Yunho's eyes trailed down on his shoes, guilt eating him up because he knows that showing his self out of the blue won't do you any good, but what can he do?

He was always there, watching you everyday and he couldn't take it anymore. He can't bear seeing you suffer, he wanted to help, he must do his best for you to be able to smile again.

"Forgotten promise." he blurted out, making you look up and focus on him.

"I am here because of that, a forgotten promise."

It was quiet for a minute, scrutinizing the man until you realized that he's still wearing the outfit that you last saw him in.

Blue long sleeved polo topped with a maroon sweater, paired with denim pants and white rubber shoes.

He looks ethereal as usual, handsome yet adorable that always made you doubt how lucky you are, getting a perfect man like him in your boring existence, until he left you all alone.

"What is that?" you weakly asked, wanting answers that will aid to the growing confusion and distraught in your mind.

"I want to show it to you!" he exclaimed, a bright smile forming in his face as he approached you, his hands enveloping yours.

It's surprisingly warm, contrary to the belief that ghosts are wintry beings, not able to make in contact with-

"How are you able to touch me?"

Incredulous yet the butterflies in your stomach are wilding, even more so when he flashed a charming grin at you, "Call it a miracle, I mean, I am here, right?"

You let him drag you out of your house, not having the energy to fight against this, or whatever the circumstances are.

The bystanders on the street looked at you weirdly, (which is understandable since your posture looks like someone invisible is pulling you.)

"Wait a minute. I'm the only one who can see you?"

"I guess? It's only you that matters the most to me so it might work like that."

Stopping your steps, the both of you arrived at a park, the place where you met Yunho, also where a lot of your firsts happened.

"Why are we here?"

He held your hand tighter, somehow wanting to feel more of you even if he knows that he can't do that anymore, thus, the least that he can do is to not let go of you for the remaining time he had left.

"You'll see."

Tugging you with him, he led you to a garden filled with colorful flowers, trees everywhere and overall an astonishing landscape.

"The locus of our firsts." you mumbled, viewing the place that started it all, melancholy blooming in your heart.

You met him out of coincidence, bumping into his broad back because your clumsy ass decided to use your phone while walking.

Like a drama scene, he caught you in his arms, an electrifying eye contact derived, a small smile adorning his face when your hands flew to his shoulders.

He didn't let you fall on your ass that day but he made sure that you'll fall for him. He was following you 'til you afternoon, walking you back home and asking for your number and name.

It was really sweet of him when he asked you out on a date the next day, having the best time of your life, thinking that yeah, maybe you'll have this man in your life until you're old and gray.

"Hey look!" Yunho excitedly pointed at a nearby tree, the spot where your first date happened, "We had a picnic under the cherry blossoms, then you ate the gochu! That really was a funny one."

You snorted, remembering that he also kissed you during that time.

"Oh my god." you let your tongue dangle out of your mouth, fanning your face wildly as you tried to reduce the heat that you regretfully took upon yourself.

"Good grief."

Yunho snickered to himself, finding you cute for doing something you're not accustomed to just to make yourself look cool in front of him.

His hands extended themselves towards you, effectively cutting your hysterics when he collided his lips with yours.

You were briefly shocked, quickly getting over it and reciprocating his kiss, enjoying his soft and mellow lips.

Yunho breathed against your skin, "I could kiss you forever if you'll let me."

A sorrowful expression decorated your face, actuality pressuring you in a spiral of anguish.

The Yunho you're with now is not alive, he is a mere specter of your past that will never return and live with you in the present, even until future.

A shadow that won't be able to kiss and cuddle you everyday, a dark chassis that creeps up on you and you can't do anything but to drown in it.

You clasped a hand over your mouth, grief overwhelming you at the thought of the man that you once loved, still love, and will always love, will never truly return to you.

Yunho's gaze was fixated on you, angry that he can't bring you comfort like he used to.

He heaved a sigh, looking at the setting sun that shone its bright orange hue down on earth, gracing an ambience of joy and enthusiasm, although none of you can feel any of it.

"Y/N."

His voice snapped you out of your stupor, craning your head to get a good look of him.

"Come with me, I have to show you something." a light smile heightens his sharp features, nodding his head towards a direction that leads to a forest.

The two of you trudged your way into the sinister woods for a few minutes until you reached what seems like a top of a hill. The moon has already risen over the black skies, stars winking at anyone who dares to peek at them.

"What are we supposed to do here?"

You were pinned at your place when you felt arms snaked around your waist, a head softly situating itself in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry."

Yunho spoke, voice above a whisper as he poured his final words and goodbyes.

"I'm so sorry, love, for leaving you so suddenly."

Your hands went over to hold his own, eyes getting glossy due to the tears that are starting to form, "It was so difficult to go on without you."

"I know, baby, I know." his hold on you got tighter, your body shivering either from the freezing air or fear that when he lets go of you, he'll go far away from your reach.

"Don't go."

Clammy hands and shaky voice, desperately begging for him to stay with you even if he's nothing but a phantom of your dreams.

You'd rather live with his ghost rather than be haunted by your yearning for him, the most that your greedy self can have is a memoir of him, a proof that he's there with you.

"Let's play." Yunho muttered, releasing you from his cozy touch that had you crying out, terrified of him deserting you.

"No, Yunho. I won't, please, don't divert the topic." you yelled, your heels rotating to face him, tired and frustrated about the whole thing.

"You can't just show yourself to me like this and leave like nothing happened!"

Tears are now falling uncontrollably, staining your plump cheeks and blurring your vision.

"You did that once and now you're gonna repeat it? Just how cruel can you be?"

After your last statement, it was impossible for you to stand, sliding down to ground as your wobbly knees can't support you anymore, you feel like floating with all the amount of mental and emotional torment that you're experiencing.

Yunho gritted his teeth, his heart physically breaking at the sight of you breaking down. He did not mean for this to happen, but what can he do when he fought his way out of here?

He clenched his fists, squatting down to your level and wiping your tears softly. Yunho hates seeing you cry, more so when he's the reason for it. All he prays is for you to be happy, and that he can't achieve.

"Hide-and-seek." he said, bewilderment etched on your face.

A tender smile stretched on Yunho's face, caressing your soft skin, "Let's play, I did told you that I needed to finish a promise."

Oh.

He cupped your face, lips pressing on your forehead, "I was on my way here on the day the accident happened." he murmured, continuing his small speech when you didn't make any move.

"For a whole year, I planned everything, and now I want to execute that. So," he pulled away from you, peering into your eyes and you were mesmerized by his pretty brown orbs, "will you please let me?"

"Okay." you sniffled, closing your eyes and starting the game.

He gave you a loving pat on the crown of your head, thanking you before taking a few steps back.

"Start the countdown, darling."

You did as he said albeit unstable and hesitant.

A bright light engulfed Yunho's body, big, fat tears cascading down on his face as he memorized every detail of you.

Slowly fading away, whispering an 'I love you' that you might not even hear.

You opened your eyes only to be greeted by an empty space, Yunho nowhere to be found and you let the tears flow freely.

He disappeared from your life again.

Just how many heartbreaks do you have to experience? How much more do you have to endure?

A shiny glint garnered your attention, there below you, lying in the greenery is a beautiful diamond ring, a letter beside it that contains your significant other's heartfelt message.

Gathering the courage to pick the piece of paper up, you opened it and read the contents.

"Ehem! Greetings my one and only lovey dovey!

I just want to tell you that I, Jeong "your baby" Yunho, doesn't want to be your boyfriend anymore. I want to be your lifetime instead, so, will you please do the honor of being my bride? Then be my wife, then be the mother of my kids, and you know the rest.

Okay, even in this I ramble please, I do this because I love you so much!

I can't wait for our wedding T.T"

Under the starry night, atop of the hill of hopes and longing, your loud weeping echoes and unto the heavens, crippling the paper like how your heart is, knowing that you won't ever have the chance to cross the bridge that he walked on.

Maybe one day, in another life, you'll meet each other again, be with each other again, and perhaps live until tomorrow ends.

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