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romantique-dreams · 2 years

Text

EVERLONG ‒ E.M

summary: two best friends, both falling, but one fell face first into a pit of dismay. the uncertainty of all things possible was too much to handle, and you couldn't do it anymore. things had to change.

word count: 6.3k

cw: although there isn't smut i still ask for 18+ and minors dni! drinking, swearing, making out (lawl), angst, fluff, mean!eddie (kinda) selfishness, depression (ig). if you find anymore please let me know!

Your best friend was so beautiful. He carried himself so eloquently, and other worldly like. He could’ve told you he was from a different planet and you’d believe him. You were so tightly wrapped around his finger you were sure you were cutting off the blood circulation at that point.

Trepidation engulfed your body every time you had planned to bring up the feelings you had for him, so you shut down. You built a wall ever so carefully, brick by boring brick. Layer by dreadful layer. You hated to do this to him, you hated to keep your feelings for him at bay. It was all too similar to the sirens who drew the sailors in, just to result in eating those poor desperate men’s hearts out. If you had said anything, it could go so horribly wrong.

You began to separate, pull yourself away. You no longer met in the woods at your picnic table, you no longer went to The Hideout on Tuesdays to watch his delicate fingers and cheer him on, your horror movie nights on the weekends came to a halt.

You were still sat at the Hellfire table, trying not to make it too obvious. You shoved your, somehow acceptable for human consumption, soggy fries around on your tray; along with your grease riddled pepperoni pizza from the cafeteria on your tray. You felt a slight nudge on your knee from next to you and you flitted your eyes up to meet your best friend’s, staring deeply into yours with concern.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, you knew he wasn’t. He had a knack for observing those he cared about. He read you like a book, almost as easily as he had read Lord of the Rings to you in his bed on Friday nights when the nightmares occurred. He knew you almost better than you knew yourself. Every pet-peeve, every detail of your past, all of your strengths and weaknesses, everything. So needless to say it wasn’t hard for him to realize what you were doing.

A small piece of paper was slid underneath the table and into your palm. You gently unfolded it to reveal some chicken scratch writing, ‘u okay there bud? :( -eds’. You let out a small half-hearted laugh and sent him a nod. He would be the one to sign his name, knowing well enough that you’d recognize the writing from anywhere. You scribbled something along the lines of ‘just can’t believe the lunch ladies are trying to poison us’ and slipped it back to him, the shit-eatting grin covering his face. The same damn smile that hooked you in the first place. There was always a glimmer that sparkled in his mischievous, amber eyes.

His posture softened, but you could see the look of concern that still lingered within his suffocating stare. You shoved one more god-awful fry into your mouth, sighed, and gathered your things.

“I’m gonna head to the library for study hall. I need to get some work done,” you whispered to him and gave him a soft pat on the top of his head. Your fingers lingered in his curls before you exited the cafeteria, feet dragging beneath you.

You had to end the friendship between the two of you once and for all. It was going to break him, but it’s what was best. You couldn’t continue on with the uncertainty of if the feelings shared were mutual. It was torture. You were going to do it tonight, after his eight o’clock show at The Hideout. Before things went too horribly south you had to at least see him in his happiest state, performing. It’s not like you wanted to leave him behind, but the ongoing abuse of it all was not for the faint of heart.

˚ · • . ° .

Much to your dismay, study hall had ended and your day was coming to a close. Eddie found you at your locker, taken aback by the force you had put behind shoving your books into the confined space Hawkins ever so generously granted its students.

“Hey there, tiger‒,” he gave a shove to your shoulder with a wink. “Comin’ to the extra metal show tonight? The boys miss you, been a while since we’ve seen you there. Our crowd has been reduced back down to five total drunks, instead of five drunks and a super cool half-rogue elf! Pitiful! Studying is way less cool anyways.”

Your heart sank. “Yeah yeah, I’m comin’, but this is why you’ve been held back. A little studying never hurt no one. Pretty sure even Ted Bundy himself studied.”

His hand clasped over his heart and he stumbled back, inhaling through his teeth with a hiss. “Ah, you wound me Azurebloom the Brave! Wait‒, “ he narrowed his eyes with an accusing point of his finger, clad with his pig ring. “Are you comparing me to Ted Bundy right now?” His mouth went agape and you let out a snort.

“Quit being dramatic and save the energy for your next campaign,” you quipped, although you wouldn’t be there to see it, as long as tonight went as planned.

“Another one straight through the heart!” He stumbled back with his eyes tightly shut.

“You’re too much, Edward,” You mumbled and shut your locker behind you. “I’ll meet you there around eight, I gotta go catch up on some of my homework.” With a small pat to his shoulder, you departed and made your way out to your car.

You slipped yourself into the driver's seat, letting out a sigh of regret and running your hands through your hair. Before you pulled out of the parking lot you inserted a tape into your cassette player; of course it being the one Eddie had made for you when he called you an ‘uncultured swine’ for not knowing who Black Sabbath was.

I need someone to show me

The things in life that I can't find

I can't see the things that make

True happiness, I must be blind

Make a joke and I will sigh

And you will laugh and I will cry

Happiness I cannot feel

And love to me is so unrealYour consciousness was heavy, you blinked through the tears as you made your way home, harshly hitting your fists against the steering wheel of your Ford Pinto. Were you seriously crying to Black Sabbath right now? This was ridiculous. You were throwing away years of friendship over some stupid, irrational feelings that only you couldn’t put aside. Eddie was such a warm spirit, he could easily find someone to replace you. Right?

˚ · • . ° .

It had come time to begin to get ready to go to The Hideout, the time read ‘7:12’ on your bedside table alarm clock. You quickly put yourself together, just a hint of mascara on your eyelashes and a few spritz of perfume that Eddie had always complimented you on. Something about ‘you smell like cupcakes and shit, makes me wanna eat you’, to which you always just laughed off, your eyes being swallowed whole by the skin surrounding them out of pure joy. You mustered up a soft sigh and folded up your Hellfire shirt that was made for you. You had a few things of his and gifts that you accumulated over the years and placed them in a small plastic bag from the nearby grocery store.

You were just friends, so why did this feel like such a dramatic break up?

You placed the things in the passenger seat and placed a small pat on top of the bag, a resounding shuffle of the plastic filling your ears. You pressed play on your player and headed towards the bar, the end of a companionship nearing.

And so as you hear these words

Telling you now of my state

I tell you to enjoy life

I wish I could but it's too late

˚ · • . ° .

Every time you went to one of Eddie’s shows it was tradition to meet you out back and have a few drinks before the show. He always said it was to loosen both of you up, to calm your nerves of being around so many people, and to give him a clear state of mind before ‘shredding on the guitar’; as he liked to call it.

“There she is! You made it!”

“Yeeeeah‒,” you began, but before you could finish you were pulled into the world’s most suffocating hug from your best friend.

He smelled of mint, some cheap cologne he found at the dollar store, cigarettes, and a hint of your favorite, Mary Jane herself. You closed your eyes, reciprocating the death hold he had engulfed you in and let his scent invade you. It was something you’d never forget. His attire wasn’t much different from what he would wear to school, still wearing his leather jacket and denim vest that was smothered in various band badges and pins. But tonight he had on ‒ was that eyeliner? You pulled back from him fully, squishing his face between your small palms.

“I didn’t know you were such a makeup artist, Eds. I’m gonna need all of your tips and tricks!” You narrowed your eyes and gently ruffled his curls, receiving a groan of disgust from him.

“Hey! Don’t mess up my luscious locks, I just actually started to put product in them! They’re perfectly coiled! Do you see this? Pretty proud of myself,” he said with a small shrug as he flailed around a piece of his hair in front of you, the small wisps of it tickling the bridge of your nose.

In return you scrunch your nose up and swat at his hand to stop the assault of your face with his hair. “Alright, alright! Let’s go inside, beauty queen, yeah?”

You both entered the bar together, his arm linked in yours as he paraded you around, introducing you to everyone ‒ as if you hadn’t been there countless times before. You pitied the boy who had been there for you through everything. It was safe to say he was going to hate you by the end of the night. You continued on your endless journey, making your rounds of saying hi to the rest of the Hellfire Club, and slamming down a few lemon drop shots.

It was about fifteen minutes to eight o’clock and Eddie had already departed to begin to warm up with the rest of Corroded Coffin. You found your place and sat in the middle of a crowd at an empty table, picking at the tin pail of peanuts in front of you, and discarding the shells onto the ground.

Eventually the lights around you dimmed, signifying they were about to go on stage. You saw Gareth, Jeff, and Bert all run out with smiles plastered on their giddy faces. It was a small bar, but you knew the attention drove them wild; they were so proud of their little band they had haphazardly thrown together. Last was Eddie to come out, the spotlight illuminating his pale complexion, bouncing off of his eyelashes, and soaking into his chocolate locks that cascaded down his shoulders. Goddamn, he was such a beautiful human being.

Within no time they were starting their first set of songs, starting with Look What the Cat Dragged In by Poison, and ending in Children of the Grave by Black Sabbath. He truly was an amazing player. The way his fingers danced over the frets on the neck of the guitar, so delicately plucking along the strings. It was such a funny disparity of the harsh sound that was resonating from the amp, compared to the intricacy and tenderness of each hand placement. You bobbed your head to each song, singing along with some. You had gone to get another shot, just for good measure, and sat back down for the remainder of their second set. Everyone around you was dancing, grinding, spit swapping, laughing, screaming ‒ but you were silent. You couldn’t muster up enough within you to do any of those things. You couldn’t have fun when you knew you were about to shatter his fragile being.

“Thank you so much everyone! We’re Corroded Coffin, we play every Tuesday at 8pm! Live at The Hideout!” He shouted through the microphone, panting in between each word. His hair was now matted down onto his forehead with sweat and his eyeliner was smudged underneath his lively eyes.

You noticed he pointed to you and signaled towards the back of the small makeshift stage that was set up, beckoning for you to come to him. You begrudgingly obliged with a small huff and a roll of your eyes.

“Well hello there my young Padawan, did you see how killer we were up there?” He pranced towards you, his NJ Warlock slung behind him.

“Yeah, of course I did!” You beamed at him with a remorse stricken look.

He pulled you into a tight hug, once again being overwhelmed by his scent that was now mixed with sweat. You deeply inhaled, giving him an unnoticeable squeeze. Your heart was breaking into tiny, miniscule pieces. You had to get this done and over with. Cut to the chase. Stop beating around the bush.

“Hey, uh, Eds? Can I talk to you? In uh‒,” you glanced down and kicked your shoe into the ground. “In private? ‘S kinda important.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and tilted his head, his breathing steadying now. “Y-yeah! Of course! Anything for you! Our number one fan!”

You grabbed his hand, interlocking his slender fingers with your clammy ones, and led him to the back of the bar. Letting the door shut behind the two with a slam and a small exhale before trying to gather your words. He had a lit cigarette already and gestured towards you with one and a lighter in his possession. He raised his eyebrows with a sharp inhale from his Marlboro Red. “‘Ya want one?” He asked, the cigarette bobbing in between his lips as the smoke trailed off of his lips.

“Ah‒ no, no I’m good. Thanks though.”

“So‒, what did you want?” He took another drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of you. He was always so courteous of you.

“I just wanted to‒,” you started, but drifted off. This was going to be a lot harder than expected, even with the endless practicing and the drinks. “I’ve been doing some thinking. I just‒, things don’t feel right. I don’t feel right. This doesn’t feel right,” you hiccuped. Your emotions took the wheel at this point. It was nothing he was doing, it was your feelings for him that made your life a living hell.

“I know you may feel differently, but I feel like a hindrance to you. I get in the way of all of the things you like to do. I impose on Hellfire, I’m always at your place and you never see the guys anymore. It’s not fair to you. I’m sorry for doing this tonight, but I don’t think we should be friends anymore.” Hot tears ran down your cheeks and gathered underneath your chin.

What the fuck? Were you seriously crying? You weren’t going to cry in front of him, you weren’t going to let him see you like this.

Eddie looked at you like you had just told him Metallica had broken up and they ran over his dog. He didn’t deserve this. He took one last drag off of the cigarette before he flicked it to the ground and put it out with his boots he had on. In times of vulnerability he grew mean, it was the only way to suppress the emotions he had. The wall he had put up was visible, and you could sense it.

He stepped back with his lips in a firm line, and stuck his head out towards you. “What do you mean? Why didn’t you say any of this before? You seriously have the worst possible timing, ‘ya know that, right?”

You avoided his intense stare and flitted your eyes to the ground. You felt like your whole world was collapsing in on itself, and all you could do was watch. You had to say something, but you couldn’t. Your brain wasn’t able to form any coherent thoughts, not when he looked at you the way he did.

“I, well‒,”

“Well what, huh?” His arms were now crossed against his chest. “Are you going to just stand there and look at me dumbfounded? You called me out here. You wanted to talk to me.”

“Look, I’m sorry, Eds‒,”

“Don’t call me that.”

“O-okay. I’m sorry, Eddie. I just can’t be friends with you anymore. It’s not anything you did. You’re so amazing, so, so amazing. You’re the closest friend I’ve had in a while. I’m just going through some stuff, and I can’t do it anymore. I can’t just sit here.”

Eddie felt a pang in his chest when the word ‘friend’ left your mouth. You guys were friends, nothing more, nothing less. So why did he feel like this? This wasn’t fair. You basically caught him with his pants down. No warning, no heads up, no fucking caution sign to say ‘Hey! I’m gonna rip your heart out after you just absolutely annihilated the guitar and had the best day ever!’.

“So you’ve just been sitting here, distancing yourself all of this time and didn’t bother to say why, or that you needed some space? What kind of selfish fucking shit is that? I’ve been worried sick every single day because of you. I didn’t know if I did or said something wrong, but no, all of a sudden it’s this ‘it’s not you it’s me’ bullshit? This is ridiculous.”

He was outraged. Furious. Hurt. This was the biggest wake-up call he’s had in a while, and it shouldn’t be happening with his, who once was, best friend. Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb and groaned, slamming his other fist on the siding of The Hideout.

“Just go. If you really want to end this, just go. The guys are looking for me. But if you leave, do not bother coming back when those nightmares get the best of you, ‘kay?”

And with that he was gone. All that was left was the emptiness where he was standing. It was as if you could still see his silhouette in the dark of the night. You crumpled down to your knees with a loud sob, hiccuping in between each breath you gasped for. You thought you were going to be the one doing the heart breaking tonight, you thought wrong. Your heart was ripped out of your chest, thrown on the ground, tainted by the dirt, and turned into a pulp in front of you.

Eddie on the other hand was flabbergasted. He felt like he was losing it. Both of your worlds collided into each other, leaving a trail of mass destruction behind, the destruction being your friendship. He couldn’t bear to sit there and see the way you looked at him. He wasn’t a mean person, he never was, especially not to you; but this was the only way to defend himself. His whole body ached with remorse, just seeing you there in that state physically pained him. If this is what you wanted, he had to let it be. There could be no pushing, you had to figure this out for yourself, but he’d be there if you needed.

You gave your best attempt at pulling yourself together, but you knew a part of you was gone. You had a big gaping hole right where your best friend once was. You found yourself a corner in the meantime and perched on the side of a guard rail near a ditch, just letting yourself go. You wouldn’t be able to drive home at the rate you were going. Snot ran down your nose and gathered at your cupid’s bow while your eyes began to swell from all of the tears that ran down your face. Saltiness was all you could taste with each shaky inhale, while your shirt was soaked with wet splotches around the neck. Your face was flushed, and mascara left tread marks underneath your eyes, you were a wreck.

Everything hurt.

You were on the verge of being able to compose yourself enough to drive home, but a note that was tucked under your windshield wiper had caught your attention. With a wary exhale you pulled it from underneath and unfolded it, the same handwriting from earlier littering the napkin that was in your hands. He must’ve taken it from The Hideout. There were still peanut shells stuck to it, and some spots were damp. You weren’t sure if it were tears or a mere coke and rum that just happened to be blotted up.

‘I’m not sure where I went wrong or what I did. I know you said it wasn’t me, but whatever you’re going through, I can help you. If you need me you know my number and you know where I live. It’ll be okay. ‘ This time the note wasn’t signed, it was obvious who it came from. You felt your posture soften and you shook your head. It was going to be okay, as long as you stayed away from him.

˚ · • . ° .

Months had passed and only a few shared glances in the hallway and an ‘Eddie says hi’ from Dustin was the only communication the two of you had. You left his belongings and gifts in the drama club room, completely forgetting to give them to him on that dreadful night. It was lonely. You didn’t even go into the cafeteria anymore. You settled for eating your lunch in your car, and completely skipping study hall altogether. You weren’t able to tell, but it was affecting him just as much. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than ever, there were no more tangents on the school lunch tables, his spark was gone. His hair was even more unkempt than usual, and Hellfire Club was constantly postponed to wallow in his sorrow.

You didn’t call, that’s what hurt the most. You cut off all ties with Gareth, Mike, Dustin, Jeff, and Bert. Your seat was eventually removed from the roundtable, and any memorabilia of the two of you was shoved into a box and placed under his bed to get lost in the sea of dirty clothes that covered his floor. Wayne was starting to worry about him. He didn’t play his guitar much anymore, he rarely came out for food, and there were no more horror movie nights with you that took over the living room and banished Wayne to the porch. Wayne tried, he really did, but Eddie wouldn’t budge. His boy was hurting and he could tell, but all he could do was piece things together. He noticed you stopped coming around. All he could do was leave it be, he didn’t want to overwhelm his nephew. He knew when things like this happened all he could do was let himself figure it out, just like when his dad had been arrested and he found his mom unresponsive on the floor of their home back in Wisconsin.

Your days at the diner seemed to get dreadfully longer, the days seemed less brighter, and Hawkins seemed more suffocating. All you could do nowadays was sit and wait until you were released from Hawkins High. Life was passing you by. You had hoped the school year was going well for Eddie. You hoped that he was finally passing his classes and that he would be able to graduate. You thought of all of the possibilities he had coming up for him. He could get out of this shit ass town, he could start a life making music, or performing. He could very well have a music career, and you truly hoped so. You wanted every good thing to come his way, and bless him throughout his life. You wanted no trouble for that poor soul. He deserved so much better than what this town had to offer, he deserved so much more than being wrongfully named and ostracized in every room he was in. He was pure, angelic, too good for anyone here. His hard exterior was truly nothing compared to the warmth he held inside of him.

You were nearing the end of another harrowing school day, only for the rest of your day to consist of going to work and going home. It was your new routine. School, work, and then home. You’d maybe throw some studying in there, if your teachers were lucky. Your parents were hardly home now, they had business trips and they visited distant relatives throughout the school year, meaning you had your house to yourself. It was so painfully empty that even your breaths began to echo off the walls. You were drowning in loneliness. Water slowly filled your lungs, and soon enough you wouldn’t have any fight left. You succumbed to the feeling of numbness. You tried your best to feel normal, to go out, to go to the shops around, but nothing was the same. You had lost your anchor and you were deliberately sinking.

You felt so dramatic, but he was your person. He had been there for you through everything. He saw you at your worst, and knew every intricate detail about you. He cradled you when you couldn’t sleep as the horrific nightmares flooded your slumber. He held your heart in his hands, but you ultimately slapped it out of his hands and stomped on it. There was never any way he could feel the same as you did, you weren’t like him. You were reserved, cautious, and tedious. He was eccentric, inviting, and spontaneous.

With a sigh you clamped your hands together and decided you were going to try to get out of the house instead of wasting your life away, cooped up in a house that was unbearably quiet. You needed some form of human interaction, whether that be people watching or not. You finalized your decision and convened enough energy to put yourself together. In sweatpants and a fitting tank top you shuffled out to the car, sighing as you looked in the rearview mirror. Your eyes were basically swollen shut, and your complexion was splotched with red marks from the irritation of going through a whole box of Kleenex tissues. You popped a cassette into the player, blindly rummaging through your glove box for one. Your car roared to life as Your Love by The Outfield rang through your car, and you began your way to Benny’s Diner.

The car ride was less than uneventful, the clouds began to cover what sunshine had been left and it began to rain, with large raindrops splatting onto your windshield. How fitting. Your windshield wipers were working full-time as you drove the empty streets of Hawkins. Most people opted to stay inside when it rained. With it being a late Tuesday night, no one was out, which also meant Benny’s would be more than open for a booth in your corner. The corner where you and Eddie would talk for hours endlessly after smoking so much you were both too high to drive, but the munchies were too strong to deny. A strawberry milkshake and a double order of onion rings and fries would always do the trick.

You made your way into the diner and wrapped your arms around yourself. “Just one, please,” you mumbled.

The host sat you at your usual booth, the one shaped in a ‘c’ which was clearly meant for others to join you, but it was just you this time. A friendly waitress came up and took your order, luckily you had brought a book with you to pass the time. You pulled the old tattered version of It by Stephen King and buried your nose in it, pausing to take sips of your strawberry milkshake. You were so immersed into your book, you lost track of your food arriving and others entering the diner. You gently placed your bookmark into the last two pages you had read and took a bite of the onion ring. Man, you forgot how good these were. You savored the flavor of the crispy batter and washed it down with the water the waitress brought you at some point while you were reading. Your eyes closed and you slumped into your seat, popping another onion ring into your mouth. You perked your head up at the abrupt ring of the bell above the door, and it was as if the wind was knocked out of you.

There he was, standing at the entrance of the sacred place you shared so many memories at. His hair was plastered to his forehead and small rain droplets kissed his face, trailing down to gather at his defined chin. He looked worse for wear. His eyes said more than he’d ever need to. You were ogling at him, it had been the first time you had seen him since the beginning of this semester. He hadn’t seemed to notice you yet, thank god. You buried your head back into your book and slid even further down into the booth until you were barely noticeable. Thankfully the back of your head was all that would be visible to him, but it was enough for him to recognize you. He’d know that contour of someone’s body anywhere. It seemed as though he was going to keep his distance. You heard the distant patter of his squeaky Reeboks stopping at the rail of the diner to sit on one of the swivel chairs.

Your waitress came back over to ask how everything was and you just mumbled a soft ‘fine, thank you’ to her. You didn’t bother asking for a box for the leftovers, so you just left a wad of cash, hoping the remaining would make up for a good enough tip for her. You threw your book back into your bag, not bothering to grab the jacket you had bought and burst through the door of the diner.

Eddie turned his head around, catching the flash of you rushing by him. Your scent lingered behind you, clouding his thoughts instantaneously. His heart rate went rapid, bounding underneath his skin, and reaching all the way to his fingertips. His whole body shook, does he go after you?

Fuck it.

He whipped himself around on his chair and raced after you. The rain had picked up by now, obscuring the view of the parking lot. Small thunder was able to be heard in the distance and everything irradiated by the pink glow of the neon lights from the diner sign.

“Wait! Please!” He screamed out, his clothes soaked.

You picked up your pace, fumbling with the keys in your hands. Your soul left your body, and your being went cold. All color drained from your face and you grunted as you struggled to get the key into the slot. Eddie had finally caught up to you now, both of your body's shaking from the cold, breathing irregularly.

“Please‒,” he breathed out, putting a soft hand on your arm. “Just wait. I just want to talk to you.”

“Eddie, I can’t. I need to go, I have‒”

“No, you can talk to me. I’m so sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it, you have to know that. I know you, I know when you’re lying. J-just give me a second please, I’m begging you, Y/N.” His voice was trembling as he pleaded. He was rapidly blinking the raindrops out of his eyes while his grip tightened around your arm.

Your body was on fire where he was attached to you. It felt like eternities since you felt the sensation of his cold rings on your burning skin. Relentlessly, you stayed while every part of you was telling you to run. Run away, save him from the hurt he was going to endure all over again. The both of you stared at each other, concern and remorse consuming your gazes. The rain continued to fall and the thunder grew louder, the sky flashing white with the small lightning that cracked through the sky.

You stayed silent waiting for him to speak, but it seemed as if he was at a loss for words. He released you from his hold and inhaled deeply.

“Look‒, I-I’m just going to say it, okay? I’ve been fucking suffering these past few months, and I don’t know what I did, but I want to fix it? Please, please, let me fix it. Let me fix us. I can’t do this shit anymore, and I don’t know how long I can keep going like this,” he said in a hushed tone, his voice cracking slightly.

“Eddie‒”

“And before you say that bullshit of ‘it’s not you, it’s me’... I’m done accepting that. It’s not an excuse anymore and you can’t use it as one. I know this has a lot more to do than with you going through things,” he emphasized with air quotes. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s bullshit that you won’t tell me. I need you to tell me. So please, just fucking tell me. That’s all I ask.”

It was like he was practically on his knees, exposed, heart out on his sleeve. Your heart ached at the sight of him. To think you put him through this was destroying you. You were both completely disregarding the rain, so completely immersed into each other. Your clothes were caked to your bodies, your hair was flattened, and puddles formed around your feet.

“Okay, fine‒,” you took a deep breath in, preparing for the word vomit. “I love you, Eddie. I love you so fucking much it hurts. It hurts me, and it hurts knowing you don’t feel the same. That’s why I ended us, I couldn’t be around you without wanting you to be mine, but you never could be. That’s not us, it’s me. It was only ever me. It’ll always only be me.” You shut your eyes tightly and hugged yourself, leaning against the side of your car. The only reply being the rain tapping on your car.

He laughed, his face pulling up into a slight smirk. “Are you serious, dude?” He animated his words with his hands frantically. “Have you not caught on? I’ve been here this whole time absolutely longing for you. You’re all I ever think about, even now. You’re all I’ve yearned for these past years. I’ve always wanted you to be my damsel in distress. I wanted to protect you from all of the bad things in the world. All of my touches, me inviting you to all of my shows, including you in Hellfire Club… For fucks sake, your own customized shirt. Jesus christ, you’re so bl‒…”

He was cut off at the force of your lips meeting his, his hands instantly finding their place on your hips, squeezing ever so gently. He allowed himself to fully melt into you, your souls intertwining at that very moment in the parking lot of Benny’s. Was this happening? Was he dreaming?

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that from you. I had always thought since we were so, so different we would never work. It pained me so much to look at you and try to keep my hands to myself, to keep myself from giving you my all. I’m sorry for everything I put you through, if you don’t want to do this anymore, it’s okay. I understand. I understand if you hate me, you can yell at me, scream at me, I don’t care. I haven’t been doing good without you. I’ve been so lonely, the nightmares came back, it was like I was a shell of myself.”

You took a step back, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Your head fell into your hands with a slap, earning a small hit against your forehead.

“Hey, listen‒,” he held your hands between his large ones, giving them subtle squeezes as he continued. “ What you did wasn’t necessarily the most metal thing ever, but it’s okay. I’m here now. I’m right here in front of you, I’m on my knees begging for you to come back. I want to rekindle everything we left off with. All I want is you back, okay? We can be whatever you want to be, as long as we are back to where we were. No labels? That’s fine. Labels? Fine.”

Eddie trailed his hands up your arms, to your shoulders, and then rested them on both of your cheeks. He delicately swiped the pad of his thumb on your bottom lip with a content sigh. Your heart was swelling with admiration for Eddie. You looked up into his chestnut irises, eye flitting between the both of his, unable to focus on one. You took in his face and every small detail, gulping harshly while your hands wrapped around his lanky torso.

Your mouths met once more, a bit of eagerness behind each reaction from both parties. Your hands found the back of his neck, lightly tracing circles on the nape of it. Goosebumps arose on his skin, shivers being sent to his core. You tasted so sweet with the mix of the spring air, and raindrops that continued to pelt the tops of your heads. His own hands traveled and explored every curve of your frame. The kiss deepened after the two of you came back for air, diving back in within seconds. His tongue slid past your bottom lip which was now swollen from the mingle of your mouths. Pulling back from you with shallow breaths he quirked an eyebrow up and pulled you back into his embrace.

“Do you want to go get some onion rings? It’s on me.” He muttered into your head, placing small intricate kisses.

“Dry clothes first?”

"Sounds like a plan."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

this is my first ever one-shot and somehow still managed to be longer than the first part of my series i started. it was also only proofread by me so i apologize for any errors, i will be skimming through and fixing any as time goes on. i was going to try to write some smut, but then at that point it was going to be waaaaay too long for a one-shot and i still need energy left to begin part 2 of my series collateral damage. (i'm also too scared to bc i have never written any smut) let me know if you liked it! if you have any feedback or anything please tell me! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! -g <3

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animentality · 1 year

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Depression and ADHD took away my ability to enjoy novels a long time ago, when I was 18.

I used to be a big reader. Ever since I was a kid, I'd plow through hundreds of books a year, no joke, no hyperbole. I was raised by an older mom, who didn't let me watch TV or use the internet until I was about 12, so books were the thing I loved most, aside from games I could play on the Gameboy Advanced or the SP or the Nintendo DS.

But books I could read under the desk at school. Books I could smuggle more places. I always had a hyperactive imagination. It was like watching a movie or a tv show in my head. I was a child perpetually lost in day dreams and fantasies.

I could read anything at all. Romances, historical fiction, fantasy, science fiction, literary.

I snapped up just about any story I could get my hands on.

But then I became a teenager, and then I showed symptoms of depression.

And I still read books, but in lesser numbers.

I read less and less every year.

And then I went to college. And then things just got worse.

I stopped watching movies, which were something I used to adore. I couldn't, literally could not, watch TV shows. I couldn't muster enthusiasm for anything at all.

I played video games, but they didn't make me happy. They didn't stimulate my imagination or give me joy.

They were just something I could use to while away my time in between the agonizing bouts of loneliness and apathy.

If I didn't have them, I would just be lying in my bed, in the utter darkness, staring up at the ceiling, wishing there was something, anything at all, that I cared about.

So I got my BA and master's degree, and all the while, every day, I asked myself why I did anything at all. Why I was not happy.

Why I didn't care about anything.

Just about the only thing I cared about was the books I was writing, and even them, I felt this horrible notion that they were all I had, and yet, that was nothing. They were as empty as I was.

So anyway.

One day, I started researching bridges to throw myself off of.

And uh. Well. Not to go into any gory details, but there was one friend I had, a long distance internet friend, who got concerned and sent some of my more troubling messages to my mom.

Who then took me to a hospital. And anyway, that part actually isn't important. All that matters is that I got medicated.

And the world sort of turned itself over, and I could start over.

And then suddenly the world wasn't brighter, it wasn't happier, but I could feel things again.

I could have interests. I was interested in everything, the way I used to be.

And then I started to love movies again. and then I started to love TV shows again (Cocaine Bear and Severance come to mind first, not sure why, but that's irrelevant, I guess).

And finally, we come back...to novels.

So this year, I have been reading books. Great books. Some bad books.

And some wonderful.

And I just wanted...to talk about The Night Circus.

by Erin Morgenstern.

Because this book...was breathtakingly good. Like.

Like...I have been out of practice.

I have been reading some decent books. Books with great premises, but disappointing follow throw.

Some great books, but with predictable twists or rather tired prose. Books that I liked, but won't think about again.

And then I read Night Circus. And suddenly, I...I knew what it felt like. Again.

For the first time in maybe seven years, I suddenly remembered this feeling I used to have, as a child, hiding behind a bush during recess, and reading Redwall or Animorphs or Goosebumps.

I was almost giddy with the feeling, it was like stepping back in time.

Back to before I started hurting, and even before I started feeling nothing at all, and everything felt so bright. So filled with lively colors.

I was vibrating, I was so emotional, I was so invested.

I literally was about to go to bed at 2 am, a reasonable time, but the Night Circus picked up, and it was suddenly so imperative that I finish it right now. I could NOT tear myself away.

And I am close to tears.

Not just because the book was wonderful and sad.

Honestly, this is hilarious to me, but as much as I loved the book, I still found myself criticizing some of its makeup, specifically slow pacing and some of the meandering. There was also a somewhat anti climatic solution to a problem that I sort of wish had been explained sooner as a possibility.

But honestly, it doesn't matter at all! All that mattered was that it thrilled me! It fascinated me! It spoke to me directly and grabbed a hold of my heart.

It tore me away from what I was planning on doing and dragged me into its world, in its pages, and I was moved by the book!

It's so fucking hard to move me! Especially a novel.

Movies and TV shows can move me much easier, because there's something so very human about needing to see faces, hear voices, experience the raw emotions through a screen that captures it all.

But this novel....Night Circus...oh my god, I had not felt so powerfully fond of a story in a long time.

I finished it, and I thought, this was what it was like, being ten...and yet, at the same time, as familiar as it was, it was also something new.

This was rediscovering something beautiful and lovely and old and new. It was drudging up the past, while creating something worthwhile, in the present.

It was the good kind of hurt.

It'll stay with me forever.

I was so happy. I am so happy.

I never expected to love this book so much.

I honestly don't even care to call this a review. I almost don't even want to talk about the specifics of its plot or its world or anything.

I just wanted to talk about how wonderful it felt to be so immersed in anything again.

To fall into a book and never want to leave its pages, and to be jarred by reality, when you realize it's over.

I am so glad to be happy, after that long dull period where nothing mattered.

I am so happy to be here. I am so happy to be alive.

To watch a good movie, to see a good show, to write novels where good things happen, where love and despair and joy and misery all happen.

To read a spectacular book, late into the night.

If I die tomorrow, I will be most disappointed, but at least, I could experience the best things in life again.

At least, I remembered in the night before my passing, what it felt like to be inspired and shaken by the creation of another person, to be touched by art, that moves you and changes you irreversibly.

I want to read more.

I want to be alive for as long as I possibly can.

I want to see the world change and I want to live every day of my life and I want to watch every good movie and every good tv show, and I want to read hundreds of books again. I want to write thousands of books.

And I don't know how you, in particular, found me or this post, but I hope whoever you are, you're also doing things that you like.

I hope you find that story you need. or make the story you need.

I hope you remember this feeling, and experience this feeling for the first time.

Maybe Night Circus is your book, maybe it's not, but either way, I wish it upon all. Upon everyone.

Read, write, draw, watch, create.

Do it all, and then do none of it, and go the fuck to sleep.

#writing #writers on tumblr #the night circus #erin morgenstern #spilled ink #depression #adhd #reading #book recs #literature #aaghahaha #im gonna combust #i am drowning #good night all #this shall be buried in the dirt of 4 am

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girlscoutbrownies · 6 months

Text

Fandom: School Bus Graveyard

Word Count: 1241

Summary:

What do people say again? Time flies when you’re having fun? They’d be right, except he’s not really having fun right now.

He’s not really having much of anything. He’s just… there.

Additional Notes + Content Warnings: Descriptions of disassociation, mild forest horror. Aiden is very much an unreliable narrator here.

This is not posted on ao3.

—

Aiden Clark does this thing where time flies sometimes.

That’s not really the right word for it, though, because saying that time is flying implies that he knows that it’s moving. He really doesn’t.

He blinks and he’s lost hours. He loses time. Yes, yeah, yeah - losing time. That’s the term.

( Actually, he’s been told that it’s disassociation. He doesn’t really care for those big words, though. )

Something’s off, he thinks, the first time.

His room is dark. It’s always dark in his room. Very, very dark. Dark, so that he doesn’t have to see the empty cans on his table and the stacks of cup ramen.

It gives off, automatically, the sense of someone is sleeping here, but they’re not living.

And maybe that’s corny, but is he alive?

He doesn’t feel alive right now. Alive people feel the mattress under their feet and the blanket over their legs.

God, his inner monologue is always kind of depressing. Seasonal depression, maybe? It is winter.

It’s always winter, though.

Maybe the seasons are changing, and he doesn’t know, because the sky outside of his window is dreary and sad and depressing and he’s not quite sure when the cold stops and the warm begins, because he doesn’t know what warm is like.

The monitor is dark, too. He thinks that sometimes, all he does is watch himself lay in bed, from inside some inner world where nothing can hurt him, the childhood monsters-in-his-closet latching onto him like some fucked up koala. No, koalas aren’t the ones that latch. Those are sloths.

He’s alive, actually. That’s kind of sad. Wait, no, it’s not. No, no, no, Aiden. Being alive is good.

( Sometimes he wonders what it’s like to die. It’s not in a suicidal way, though. Not really. )

He wonders if dead people still need to eat and live and breathe and order things at restaurants, except he’s seen enough movies and read enough books to know that the only dead people that do that are the zombies.

He wonders if zombies have to make eye contact and ask for consent before they bite people. But only alive people do that, because alive people know what it’s like to feel bad. Corpses don’t make eye contact.

Corpses don’t feel anything at all.

( If he thinks ahead, outside of this memory, he wonders if all of his intentional eye contact is just a weird way of him scrounging up whatever sense of identity he has left, a way of saying I am here and alive and you will have to look at me, or if it’s just another byproduct of never interacting with other people his age, not until Ben. Maybe it’s both, actually. )

He is alive. He feels his heart beating sometimes, a steady familiar song that he knows the exact tune to. You’re not supposed to hear your heartbeat, though, are you? Not unless you’re in a hospital, strapped to wires and stripped to the bone like a weird fucking mannequin on display.

That’s funny.

Well, it’d be funny, except he’s not laughing. That’s typically the baseline for something considered humorous.

He’s not doing much of anything. Right, what was he doing again? The blanket. It’s there. He feels the blanket, bunching it up in his hands. It feels fake, but he knows it’s real. The world isn’t advanced enough for something like that, not yet at least. It feels like something sheared too quickly and never processed and rough and it’s a disgusting horrible shade of gray and—

Right, what was he doing again?

Five senses. He can feel his veins twisting underneath his skin and blood flowing in an unending path to his heart to keep him alive. That’s not quite how you phrase it, he thinks.

He turns his hand. It’s pale and the blue lines stand out prominently, not faintly like a normal person’s would be. They snake under his bones like vines in a forest, grabbing hold of his bones and muscle because he can’t have anything, he’s surrendered it to rot in this room and he’s suddenly sharply thrusted out of this shitty memory—

( He doesn’t really like the forest. Maybe he did, once before, but a long, long time ago, he’d been told that bad parents send their children to the woods to die and that really, he should be grateful he has a house and a place to stay in.

The forest swallows up everything. It’s a wonder humanity hasn’t burned it all to the ground, honestly. Setting ablaze to his nightmares, the ones he has when it’s getting particularly bad and he sits in a dark clearing and watches nature reclaim its score. This was never their place to live.

It gets worse after the phantom dimension. Pillars of rock soaring into the sky, something that shouldn’t be possible because of the “laws of nature,” but nature follows its own set of rules, doesn’t it? It doesn’t care about us. He’d envisioned, the night after, when he’d finally managed to drift off, the forest grabbing onto Tyler and never letting go. Sinking into mud and dirt and decaying to the bone.

He doesn’t really like the forest. )

Right, he was doing… something…

Oh, he’s in bed. He’s in bed and the shutters have been pulled wide open, bright sunlight filtering through the glass. Wasn’t it just dark out?

“Aiden?”

His eyes snap towards the voice blocking the doorway. No, that’s not right. The voice near the doorway. His therapist told him to stop treating everyone like video game obstacles. Oh, well. Who was she kidding? It’s not like he told her anything, anyways.

Ashlyn is standing there, looking worried enough that he almost feels warmed by the concern. Almost.

They make eye contact, too prolonged and too vivid. He thinks he’s making her uncomfortable. That’s a shame.

Five senses. He can’t feel the blanket. It’s soft, isn’t it? He combs through his memories, knowing what it’s supposed to feel like. It’s silk or something, or maybe it’s fleece. He doesn’t know which one this is; they’re all the same colour, and he can’t feel. The texture is wrong.

It doesn’t feel like anything. He’s supposed to feel things. That’s his whole—pardon his redundancy—but that’s his whole thing. He’s the bouncy one, up and alive and too many feelings, to compensate for when the others are down.

Off topic. He’s getting off topic again. This isn’t a lecture, though; he’s not following a lesson plan. He’s just here.

“Um… are you… okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says with little hesitation. He thinks to himself that he really doesn’t care for speaking right now, but the familiar words roll off his tongue like…

He’s not that great with analogies. Similes. Whatever.

“You’re still in bed. It’s nearly two in the afternoon.”

Is it? He hadn’t realized time passed so quickly. Or, flew. Disappeared.

“Ben said that you were probably sleeping in, but, well…” She looks over, rather confusedly, at his unmoving form. He’s been sitting here for a while, hasn’t he?

“I’m hungry,” Aiden announces, pushing himself off the mattress. He feels it under his hands, which is good. It’s not the same softness as it should be, but it’s still there. It’s there, and this is real. He’s real.

“Do we have anything to eat?” The wood paneling is hard and cold under his feet. He wishes he’d gotten carpet.

It’s still cold in here.

#sbg #aiden rambles #school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard (webtoon)#aiden clark #tw disassociation #my fics #my writing #not on ao3 #forest horror #ish

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thatonebirdwrites · 1 month

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ugh

I woke up crying and so damn depressed. And wondering why I write or draw or create anything. It's just one of those days. It doesn't help that my health is poor -- as in the pain and fatigue has been horrible, and even finishing a chapter to throw up on AO3 didn't net me a boost of serotonin like it usually does. Comments start to fade when a work gets a little too long I've been noticing. Didn't help that my dreams were filled with dying on a besieged space station that was slowly losing air. While the only person on the planet that cared struggled to convince superheroes to save me -- except they wouldn't because I had said 'depicting a genocide like it's an action movie just for the sake of showing it is fucked up.' Weird-ass dream. Though my opinion hasn't changed. Depicting a genocide like it's a fun action sequence where the showrunner is literally on record saying he always wanted to "see" the genocide in his favorite childhood show = fucked up. Oh, while I'm at it, the original showed the aftermath of genocide and how much it harms people for generations in a way that honors those who died, and doesn't turn it into action-porn. It discussed generational trauma and explored how we should never forget or let go of the past, but instead honor and remember it so that we fight to make sure it never happens again, so that the future we build is better and more equitable than before. The 'let's depict a genocide for funsies' showrunner took that nuanced message and threw it out the window; instead had one of the protagonists say: "Let the past go." Then had a whole plot arc about how the weak need to get stronger in order to fight oppression (also fucked up view). Anyway, in my dream, those opinions meant no superhero wanted to rescue me as I was dying on a besieged space station. Sounds about real I suppose. Bonus points if you know what shows I'm talking about. I don't dare tag it because I'd rather not get hate mail. I get enough of that for being disabled, trans, and a writer of wlw ships. But yes, today is my 'I'm pretty isolated and depressed' day. So I'm watching a Norwegian livestream of a train and crying into vegan ice cream.

#idk why i wrote this

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cerise-on-top · 5 months

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Lost Shelter

This is a bit longer than what I usually write when it comes to fics, but I think I didn't do too badly on it. This is just me coping this time, maybe someone else will enjoy it too. Reader is heavily depressed, but John tries to help them on an especially bad day. 3,5K words, roughly.

TW: mentions of potential self harm, mentions of suicidality

Your throat would make any desert in the world feel as though it was thriving within the gentle rains. No saliva, and yet, you tried to swallow something, anything, down, to no avail, the action only making you more aware of how parched you were, leaving your throat sore. Your head was pounding, your body screaming for anything to hydrate yourself with, but nothing would come, you knew as much. Wars, horrible in nature and impossible to prevent, were waged within this reality you had to call your own, a never ending conflict between the world and your mind. It was a losing battle, it always had been, with you simply stalling for time until you were finally ready to admit complete defeat. Lying in bed with your eyes closed, images of sad realities flooded your brain. Self-inflicted heartaches of people looking at you with the kindness you didn’t deserve, the sympathy you never earned, those better times that would never come. A sigh left your lips, another step closer to a complete loss.

For the first time in an unknown timespan you opened your eyes, squinting as you internally complained about how bright it was. The light was quite painful, not particularly making you feel welcome in this world you were barely even a part of anymore. The tiniest bit of curiosity prompted you to reach for your phone on the corner of your bed, hidden behind the pillow you called your only ally. Well, almost your only ally. Within quick succession, you tapped twice on the screen, making it light up to show the time. 15:56. Despite having been awake since 8am, you barely left the bed. For as tempting as sleep was, nothing you did prompted it to take you to faraway lands where naught but the simple meaningless things would take place. The screen darkened again and you put down your phone. You had to get up eventually or else you weren’t going to sleep tonight either.

Slowly, you sat up, limbs made of iron weights obstructing your every attempt at doing so. Finally, another fight barely won, you leaned over, putting your arms on your thighs. It was such a sweet serenade, so sickening, to not move, even then. Looking at your arms, they did not belong to you. You did not belong to yourself. You were watching a little movie where the credits seemed more enticing than what was actually happening. The pain felt almost real, the way the bed seemed to spin underneath you, the way your throat begged for any drink at all, the way your eyes were stabbed a billion times as they fought to do the one thing they were supposed to do. That hand moved closer to where you could see it, moving around, wiggling a bit at every angle. It was yours on a logical level, but that reality you couldn’t see anyway told you otherwise.

Finally awake, love?

A voice called out. It was there, you simply didn’t realize it as it had no weight, no sound, no one it belonged to. As though a small ghost crept up on you, whispering things in your ear. Ghosts weren’t real, they had no form, they had no existence. Just like you. You weren’t real. Your bed wasn’t real. The air around you wasn’t real. In fact, there was a chance you were going to choke, wasn’t there? This little canvas of a life you find yourself in couldn’t sustain you, it was going to kill you.

Here, have a glass of water, sweetheart.

The ghost crept up on you again, making sure you would remember its presence. Somehow, this time, it felt closer than before, almost reaching you.

Into view came a glass of water, a third hand appearing out of nowhere. Blinking away the tiny daggers nestling themselves so comfortably in your eyes, you followed the limb to find where it originated from. The flesh seemed to retract itself once you took the water from it, left to hang on someone’s side all on its own. You met the eyes of the being standing next to you, met with such gentleness, it could have wrapped a cloth around your heart to stop its bleeding. John?

You tried to call out to him, but only a pathetic cry left your throat. A coughing mess, tears in your eyes from how painful it all was. It hurt too much as you covered your mouth with your free arm. The water was quick to be downed. Somewhat cold, it made your throat bloom, fauna, flora and your voice finally to return once again. In a single go, the translucent gold was gone. “John?” You wiped your mouth as you looked at your partner. Those god damned eyes of his, so tender with concern as he sat down next to you.

“I’m here, don’t worry.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. The embrace a mother would give her child, filled with what was supposed to be unconditional love, would weep in jealousy with the warmth he made you feel. “Going through it today, hm?” His voice was low, almost raspy, and yet no silk in the world could ever compare to its sound. Even with the strong smell of his cigars lingering in the room, you let out a shaky breath as you relaxed into him.

The fog in your brain cleared for a moment as you gazed into his eyes. No matter how beautiful and kind they were, you were not worthy of being perceived by them and in your shame, you focused on the dark spot on the wooden floor before you. “I’m just having a day today, I think. Sorry.” Even within that spot, there seemed to be an area, lighter in color than the rest. How could you have not noticed that sooner?

John’s hand moved to your head, his head entangling itself into your hair as he pressed a kiss to the top of it. Quite long, just the tiniest bit of pressure applied. But soon enough, he let go of you, moving his hand back down to your shoulder. “Anything I can do to help? Do you need to get something off your chest or do you need me to leave you alone?”

You took another whiff of his scent. So long ago you loathed the smell of cigarettes and cigars, only to find that years later they were an indicator of home. Putting your hand over his chest, you immediately took in his warmth. Even on those days where resisting your demons seems hopeless and futile, on those days where the emptiness spreads beyond your own body it seemed, those days where you couldn’t believe you were real, you could rely on John. He was a soldier, a skilled one too, so he was likely a different man on the battlefield he would fight on. But in the here and now? His body was as warm as a heater, his soul would put the sunrays in spring to shame. “Can we just cuddle today? I can’t do anything today.”

The glass was really all there was to stop you from wrapping your arms around him immediately, sinking into him further and further until you would suffocate. Naturally, he’d pull you back out, breathing into you the gentle kiss of life until your soulless eyes would stare back into his, until there was even the empty husk of mirth within them. The shell may be empty, but it was proof enough that there was something that could be filled once again. One day, you were going to smile again without fearing the consequences of glee. That’s what he promised you, that’s what you clung onto when he wasn’t near.

With a light tug, he took the glass from you, putting it on the nightstand next to him. Some things had priority, he could wash it later too. His attention was all given to you, his body angled in a way where he was facing you and you alone. The cold snow dragging you into the familiar sadness melted a bit when he put his hand on your face, gently caressing it with his thumb. “I’m more than happy to do that, but only on the condition that you eat something first. You haven’t eaten since yesterday and I can’t allow that.”

There was a chance he could have been right, even if you wouldn’t be able to admit that to yourself. But he wouldn’t lie to you about something like that.

You leaned into his hand, putting your own on top of his to make sure it was here to stay. A ferocious, fearsome fighter, in his eyes the smallest glint of hope to get you to listen to him. It likely would make him happy if you ate something, anything at all. A piece of bread, an apple, maybe a chicken nugget or two, it was better than nothing.

“Please, love. I made you the cauliflower cream soup you always adored. Even made sure it has some extra chunks still.”

The offer was enticing. But was “offer” really the right word to describe such a thing? To offer something means to expect something in return. Then again, you supposed maybe it was an offer after all, you were expected to eat it.

Even in all its heaviness, dragging you back down into those abysmal sheets that won’t solve your problems, your mind was plagued by the soup. John wasn’t a bad cook either, his soups and stews were usually to kill for.

“I suppose I can agree to that. But… John?”

“Yes?”

There was some shame in admitting such a thing. By no means were you frail, if anything you had been hardened to some degree by some of your battles yourself. However, that did mean you were left weakened, gasping for air as your body grows cold, clad in armor adorned with blood. “Do you think you could maybe hold me? I still feel a bit dizzy.”

“Naturally.” In a gentlemanly manner, he got up and offered his hand to you. Taking it like you had countless times before, you were lifted up onto your feet with John quickly getting into position to make sure you wouldn’t topple over and get hurt even worse. One blow to your pride was one thing, another one could have even more consequences. His arm found its way around your shoulders again. It was fairly noticeable how you fought to stay upright, to not wobble too much.

Although short, the walk to the kitchen was a mission to not tumble over as your home spun in circles, black dots obscuring your vision. In the dark you would always find your way around, never running into the furniture you’d see every day either way, but even within the light a task that seemed so simple, something you wouldn’t even need to think about, was a herculean challenge. Finding yourself seated with some eagerness, you held your head in your hands, not giving the item placed in front of you much attention until some time had passed.

“Drink up, I’ll prepare some food in the meantime.”

The words didn’t go unnoticed, but they certainly meant little to you for the time being. It wasn’t until the bowl was placed in front of you that you could lift your head, even if such was possible merely due to the smell of cauliflower wafting through the air. Fairly large chunks stared back at you as John placed a spoon next to you. You were no stranger to the empty feeling in your stomach, but you did think it to be fitting. An empty body, an empty stomach, it was just fair. It was so easy, leaving yourself neglected, body begging for any sustenance at all, when such things weren’t presented to you this easily. Something within urged you to take the spoon, maybe even the bowl itself and drink up the entire thing. The cream soup was beckoning you closer in a way only a knife ever has.

“Bon appetit, love.” John was sitting opposite of you, his spoon already submerged in the food he prepared. There was a certain hesitance to him, he was waiting for you to grab your silverware, make the first move, show him that you kept your promises to others even when you can’t keep the ones you made with yourself.

“Bon appetit, John.”

His food was usually delectable and you were starved for anything, even something as small as cream soup. The shame burnt within you, wanting to down the entire thing in one go, filling the gaping emptiness with something, anything at all. Something warm? Even better. The composure it took to not guttle it all, opting for calmly taking the spoon instead. While he has seen you on your worst days, never judging you even once for inabilities that came and went, he didn’t need to see how desperate of a beast you were in that moment. Stirring the soup, so evil of an enemy, invading all your senses, you finally waited for long enough, taking the first spoonful.

There were many ways to describe John’s cooking, but if you had to use a single word, it would likely be home. Something home-made, making you feel at ease. It wasn’t laced with any poison to make you don’t leave, to make sure you were easily exploitable, it was seasoned with love and topped off with care, which resulted in one of the few reasons you had to stay. It wasn’t that hot anymore either, at the very least not searingly so, but warm enough to still thaw your cold body again. Your sense of pride was thrown out the window as you took spoon after spoon in your mouth in quick succession. You simply had to have more.

It almost escaped you, John’s chuckle as he watched you for a few seconds before leisurely eating himself. “Glad to see you still like it as much as you do.” If you had hurried just a bit more you would have missed his gentle gaze as he regarded you with adoration. While not being a hearty meal per se, it gave you enough strength to get up yourself, taking another three, four ladles of cream soup before sitting down again, resuming your previous activity. You would gladly endure this humiliation time and time again as long as it was meant for his eyes only. Yet, on your third serving, having slowed down with each spoonful, you grew content, leaving it at that and nothing more. Mind and matter were pleased for the first time in a while.

Soon enough your partner, too, had finished his two servings of soup, allowing him to take both of your bowls and put them in the sink to soak until later. Whatever responsibilities such may bring could wait until later on.

“John, that was absolutely amazing. Thank you, I really owe you one.”

You didn’t, you never did. The light returning to your eyes was worth more than the world’s gold reserves. You were just too precious to leave in misery’s hands like that.

“I’m just happy to hear you liked it.” A gentle pat to your shoulder, an understanding, but pleased, smile was all it took to make you forget life’s agonies for just a moment. And another would turn into two. “You wanna watch something together? You’ve always loved that one movie, haven’t you? Princess Mononoke?”

A small anecdote you maybe mentioned once or twice throughout your life, enough times for him to remember. His job was reliant on him remembering, no, noticing the tiniest details, but you were separate from such a thing. His head would get crowded with pointless information about you, misremembering important facts you couldn’t imagine if you tried. Stunned into silence, you scrambled for words to find, to express how you felt. Yes, please! I wanna watch a childhood movie!

“That would be nice, I suppose.” Your somber voice was quiet, but if one were to take it apart, dismantle it at its source, they would find themselves with a gentle, satisfied surprise. Taking the glass of water, you gulped it all down in one go this time too. Truly astounding how many small things a human body required to function perfectly fine.

Even now, John extended his hand, taking the glass from you and filling it back up once again. Your glass in one hand, the other found its way to your back, guiding you to the couch in the living room. Nothing had changed aside from a bunch of colorful catalogs adorning the table now. An opened letter laid next to them, the addressee hidden from your sight. It couldn’t have been for you, however, if it had already been opened. The glass was set down, tearing you from your thoughts as it was your turn to watch him as closely as a cluttered mind would allow. Swiftly, he lied down, losing no time in holding his arms out expectantly. Right, you asked him to come cuddle with you.

There was nothing lost but the time you could spend touching him, thus making you almost hurry to lie down on top of him, careful enough to not hurt him by accident. Like a flesh eating plant, his arms snapped close, trapping you within them. His warmth burnt your skin in the same way scorched soil would give way to new flora. You were thriving, getting closer to the end of a cave that seemed to have followed you for as long as you could remember. On its roof was an opening, letting in the rays of the sun, showing a beautiful blue sky, a heaven to show you what lies at the end of the darkness. It seemed less frightening in that moment, a companion leading you, showing you the way into a future you would want to be a part of.

The next few minutes were spent not watching a movie, not preparing to do so either, but simply with you in his arms. You were royalty and John showed his loyalty by kissing the crown on your head, sometimes even your temple. Whichever it was he could reach, he was certain to make sure it would feel his love. No words were exchanged in those minutes, the comfort leaving you to slowly space out once again. This time, the images you brain conjured weren’t of needless violence you could feel in your bones, every blow shattering your self further and further. What you imagined was more akin to sitting on a rock on a warm spring day. The foundation for flowers had been built, all that was left was to give them time to bloom into an unforgettable scenery. That sounded nice, actually. Maybe you and John should visit the tulip fields in the Netherlands sometime. The fields of lavender in France sounded rather enticing in their own way as well.

You closed your eyes, imagining the pink and purple fields, so vast that the only other colors in sight would be a blue sky and maybe John’s odd hat he would wear fairly often. The thought made you smile.

“What are you smiling about?” His fingertips started to gently trace your back. It almost tickled, actually.

“Our shared future that I want to see.”

The hands holding you captive relaxed, his voice giving way to the smile on his face. There was no need to see it, you knew making thoughts such as those known would always make your partner soft. Happy you’re still here, ecstatic to see the world with you. “Are we going somewhere?”

“I wanna go see flowers and meadows. Flowering meadows. Fields of green, red, pink and any other color there could be. I think I want to see life. I know I want to see it with you”

Another kiss to the crown of your head, lingering for a moment before John pulled away. “That can definitely be arranged. I’d be more than happy to see anything you want to see, as long as it’s with you.”

A day that felt as though it would be your last, it ended with the knowledge and belief that, even if just for a moment, everything was going to be alright. No matter how much despair seemed to rule over you, it was evident that, as long as you had the tiniest bit of hope, you were going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay. Not because it had to be, but because you weren’t alone. John was with you, making sure you would see the world and its beauty until you could see the most gorgeous things on the whole planet: yourself and your smile in the beautiful light of a late afternoon.

#cod #cod x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #john price

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karatekels · 5 months

Text

TIGmas Day #2 - Saturnalia

This fic is for @cortmac1989, who has asked for Valek romancing Reader at a Christmas masquerade! I’ve taken a bit of liberty with the request to stretch it out a bit longer – hope you don’t mind and that you all enjoy!

TW: Stalking; Voyeurism; Blood-drinking (due to vampirism); confession under duress (mesmerization); dark, rough sex; References to violence and murder; Gratuitously going against the lore (or lack thereof) of vampirism from the book/movie to fit my own agenda

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Saturnalia

---

Valek’s POV:

He takes care to press down with every step, ensuring that a footprint is left behind in the snow. It was important to never give the humans a reason to suspect he was anything more.

Jan Valek had always embraced the winter months; the loss of hours of sunlight giving him the opportunity to surround himself with people going about their lives as usual beneath the blanket of darkness. Christmas was quickly approaching, and Valek always found himself wistfully thinking back to his human life at this time of year. His family, their traditions, all long dead… watching people all around him, bright and alive and happily thinking of their loved ones could make him feel either moved or horribly depressed.

Tonight it has him feeling empty.

He makes to leave, to return home and to his lonely, meaningless existence, when something suddenly catches his attention: an intoxicating scent on the wind that washes away all traces of his melancholia.

Curious and almost unable to help himself, he tracks the scent. He knows that the aroma belongs to a human, but he can’t remember the last time he was so tempted by the bloodlust, feeling his canines start to lengthen and sharpen as his mouth waters. He pauses in his search of the source of the appealing scent, getting himself under control – he was able to relatively blend in with the humans when his vampiric instincts lay dormant, his features only revealing their true form when he was making use of his abilities to fight or feed. There would be time for that, once he had isolated the victim…

Nicking his tongue on a still-sharpened fang, he lets his own vampiric blood flow into his mouth, helping to distract him from the scent until he is able to continue his pursuit. Eventually, he comes across a small group of people bundled up for the weather and chatting amongst themselves. One woman, the source of his temptation, stands slightly apart from the crowd, watching the others talk with a slight smile rather than participating in the conversation.

“Everyone is coming on Friday night! No excuses!” one woman’s voice drowns out the others, resulting in a cacophony of whoops and groans from the others.

“Do we have to wear a mask?” someone complains, murmurs of agreement echoing him. “Halloween was months ago!”

“Yes!” the woman insists. “It’s going to be a fancy Winter Solstice masquerade, and you’re all cooperating. We haven’t all gotten together in years, and this will be fun!”

“Your version of ‘fun’ is very different from the rest of ours, Roberta,” another person chimes in, and the woman, Roberta apparently, scowls at the group.

“We will have my family’s manor to ourselves, with full access to their liquor cabinet. Am I really asking for so much here?”

A hush falls over the group for a brief moment.

“Masquerade ball it is!”

“Great idea, Roberta!”

“Can’t wait for Friday!”

Roberta smirks, pleased that the group has been won over, but Valek finds his gaze drawn to you, the wallflower, as you roll your eyes at your friends.

“Hey, how did you get Y/N to agree to come? There’s no way alcohol would be enough to win her over!” someone asks with a laugh, and you jump as you become the new topic of conversation. Roberta throws a friendly arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer.

“She’s staying with me while she’s here; she has to!” the woman announces smugly, and you give a bashful, reluctant smile.

“Plus, she described it to me like a Saturnalia celebration, so I’ll just hide in the corner and observe from a safe distance,” you add, your smile fading as no one recognizes the word or asks about it. Valek himself is surprised that you’ve mentioned the ancient Roman festival – it has no current cultural relevance that he’s aware of.

“Ugh! No nerd stuff, please!” someone chides you, and you scowl. “You’re supposed to be taking a break from all that, Y/N!”

“And you will not be hiding in a corner during my party!” Roberta insists. “Hopefully you and Michael will hit it off before then so that he can help you have some fun!” she winks roguishly at you, and Valek hears your heartbeat speed up as you blush.

“You’re going out with Michael?” someone asks excitedly, and the other women in the group burst into giggles.

“Roberta–” you hiss at her, yanking yourself out of her grip. “I’m not talking about this. I’ll see the rest of you on Friday!” you snarl, stomping off down the snow-covered street, clearly upset.

Valek ghosts after you, staying in the shadows. Perhaps the opportunity to feed will present itself to him – he wants to savour you, just the once, and if he wasn’t rushed at the thought of being discovered, there was less chance for an… accident.

“Y/N, wait up!” Roberta calls, jogging to catch up with you. You reluctantly stop to wait for her, tapping your foot impatiently. Valek takes the opportunity to move to the other side of the hedges that line the sidewalk you were on, allowing him to eavesdrop and watch you through the snow-covered pines without being spotted himself.

“I can’t believe you,” you grumble as she approaches, and from what he can see, the woman has the grace to look abashed.

“I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t thinking,” she says, and you two set off down the path together.

“Why are you insistent that I go out with him while I’m here?” you ask quietly after a minute or two of walking in silence, and your friend peeks over at you, concern in her eyes.

“I just… I worry that you’re alone, Y/N,” she admits. “Your parents have been gone for a few years now, you’re away from your hometown and busy with school, and I know you’re not the most social person… I just want you to be taken care of, hun.”

You let out a deep sigh, your breath coming out in a spiraling, misty cloud.

“I’m fine by myself, Bob,” you tell her, and both your mouths twist into a smile at what Valek presumes is a nickname. “I appreciate your concern, but trying to force the issue isn’t going to get me into a relationship that lasts. The right person will show up when it’s time; I don’t want to rush it.”

“I get it, I get it. I won’t do it again, I promise. Just please give Michael a chance? For me?” she asks you hopefully, and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you give in with a reluctant smile. “But just a quick cup of coffee – I don’t want to be stuck at a restaurant for hours if this goes south.”

Your friend nods, a wide smile on her face, and skips off ahead of you, whooping into the night.

So, he wasn’t the only one that felt alone during this time of year, Valek muses to himself as he follows the pair of you to the elegant manor house where you’ll be staying. It was unfortunate, but truly made you the ideal ‘victim,’ loathe as he was to use that word. But you had no family, you were here for a short period of time… it would be easy to make you disappear in the event that he got carried away.

He doesn’t think he will – sure, your blood was inviting, but he finds himself equally, if not more so, interested in your brain.

---

One Day Later…

Reader’s POV:

You force yourself out of Roberta’s home, bundled up against the cold. You really don’t want to go on this stupid date, but you had promised, and you didn’t want to be rude to Michael.

You stifle a yawn as you make your way to the coffee shop, grateful that you’d at least be able to wake yourself up a bit with a nice, hot beverage. You hadn’t slept well the night before, and as twilight turns to dusk the darkness isn’t helping with your fatigue. Still, it’s a beautiful, clear night, the snow still thick on the ground and the treetops, so you do your best to enjoy it. Perhaps Michael would be late, and you could take some time to yourself; your journal and a bag of poetry were in your bag.

Unfortunately, you see him waiting for you outside the coffee shop as you approach, and he gives you a beaming smile that you do your best to return. No time to enjoy the night on your own, then.

Michael wraps you up in a friendly hug as he greets you, the embrace lasting slightly longer than you are comfortable with. You two weren’t complete strangers; he’d been a year above you in high school and you had seen each other at the few social events you had attended with your friends in the years since.

Once you grab your drinks you decide to make your way to the nearby park, making small talk along the way. Michael is… fine. He’s friendly, not leering overtly as he checks you out (you’re grateful again for the cold weather and the layers of clothing it affords you), and he even offered to pay for your coffee, but there’s just… nothing between you. You feel no spark, no real interest towards him, and every attempt you’ve made to tell him about your hobbies and interests he couldn’t be bothered to indulge you, always steering the conversation back to himself.

You’re disappointed, but not surprised. Like you had said to Roberta yesterday, you aren’t going to hit it off with someone by being set up with someone else. You’re old-fashioned, romantic, reserved, with a bunch of interests that people rarely wanted to hear about. Finding someone that you would connect with would be like finding a needle in a haystack, especially in this tiny town.

You sigh internally, trying to turn your attention back to Michael instead of counting down the minutes until you can go home.

---

You manage to make it an hour and a half before you start laying it on thick with the exaggerated yawns, and Michael eventually takes the hint, walking you to the entrance of the park.

“I hope I’ll see you at Roberta’s party on Friday,” Michael asks with a boyish grin. “I’ll be the one in the mask!”

You let out a genuine laugh for the first time that evening. “Yes, I’ll be there – she’s insisted on it!” you reply wryly, avoiding the subject of seeing him there. You’re bad at rejecting people – you hate disappointing anyone, for any reason – and are hoping that you can just go your separate ways without having to formally announce it.

Fortunately, Michael just wishes you a good evening with another hug that you force yourself to return before he turns to head home. You frown at his back. It’s not like you need him to walk you home – or even want him to – but the gesture would have been appreciated. Letting out the sigh you’d been keeping inside all evening, you turn to head back home.

“Excuse me,” comes a smooth, deep voice behind you that makes you jump; you hadn’t heard anyone coming up behind you. Turning around, you’re taken aback by the massive man that stands just a few feet from you. He must be nearly six and a half feet tall, with long, pitch-black hair that flows to his shoulders, blending in with his dark clothing. In contrast, his skin is incredibly pale, and his eyes were a piercing blue-grey that you can’t look away from.

You take a reflexive step backwards and bite back a gasp, and the man tracks the gesture before taking a few steps back. You feel guilty immediately – he seems polite, and you hope your jumpiness didn’t offend him.

“I apologize; I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says gently. “I merely wanted to ask if this was yours.”

He holds up a book which you immediately recognize as your poetry collection; it must have fallen out of your bag somewhere.

“Oh, yes! Thank you so much!” you exclaim with a smile, accepting the book from his gloved hand and returning it to your bag. “How did you know it was mine?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Nobody else is here. Someone was just leaving as I arrived, but he did not seem like the type to read poetry.”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing – no, Michael was definitely not the literary type. This man, on the other hand…

“He’s not – not for my lack of trying, anyway,” you say with a wistful sigh. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you introduce yourself, extending a mittened hand to him.

“John,” he returns, taking your hand in his large one to shake it. Your skin never touches his, but you feel a thrill of electricity race from your palm up your arm, making you tingle.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you breathe, finding yourself reluctant to step back from his personal space.

“And you,” he replies, not taking his eyes off of yours as if considering something. Your heart is thumping like mad, and you’re glad there’s no way he can hear it.

“So, the not-poet is a friend of yours, then?” John asks with an amused smirk.

“Who?” you ask, momentarily confused. This man’s presence is very overwhelming, and you find it hard to focus on anything else. “Oh, him! No, not really,” you say, rushing to get the words out. “We haven’t seen each other in years and were just catching up.”

“That makes a bit more sense,” he replies, and you cock your head at him inquisitively. “Someone closer to you should have the decency to walk you home, especially so late at night.”

You feel yourself flush, and hope that he attributes it to the cold.

“I don’t mind,” you say shyly, unable to look him in the eye as you speak. “It’s let me talk to you.”

Braving a look up at his face, you see him smiling down at you, his blue eyes glittering like the snow under the lights that line the sidewalk.

“May I walk you home, then?” he asks quietly, seeming nervous himself. “Provided that I would not be imposing.”

“You’re not imposing!” you say quickly, hoping that you’re not coming across as too eager. John merely grins at you before asking you to lead the way.

You slowly make your way back to Roberta’s home, trying not to shuffle your feet, but you can’t help it – you don’t want this walk to end. You and John talk about literature the way that you haven’t been able to with anyone outside of a college lecture hall, and it feels wonderful. John is knowledgeable, opinionated and thoughtful, and you’re both firing off questions one after the other. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so comfortable with a stranger; he doesn’t even feel like a stranger!

All too soon, you make your way to the front gate to Roberta’s home, turning to John with a sigh.

“This is me,” you inform him reluctantly, trying not to let your disappointment show. “Thank you so much, for giving me my book, and walking me home.”

“It was my pleasure, Y/N,” he replies warmly, before giving you that look again that has you desperately wanting to know what he’s thinking. “Have a good evening.”

“You too, John,” you say, giving him a timid smile. “I’m really glad that I met you.”

You fight the urge to look over your shoulder to see if John is still there, forcing yourself to walk up the driveway and to the large, ornate front door. The moment you close the door behind you, you press your nose to the glass of the window to check, but you can’t see him standing there. Turning, you lean your back against the door with a sigh.

What an absolute dream…

An encounter with someone like that, even just a one-off as this was – and your heart twinges at the thought of not seeing him again – made you believe that your approach to romance was correct. Why settle for just anyone when you now had evidence that someone like that existed?

“You look like you had fun.”

You jump, a guilty smile spreading across your face as Roberta enters from another room with a smug expression.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie flatly, and the woman rolls her eyes.

“Oh please, you look positively smitten. I’ll admit, I didn’t think things would go quite this well when I set you two up!”

You open your mouth before snapping it shut again, weighing your options. Telling Roberta that your good mood was from spending time with anyone other than Michael would beget a hundred more questions that you didn’t want to answer. A large part of you wants to keep John a secret, keep tonight something that belongs only to the two of you.

You hide a smile behind a feigned yawn, moving towards the stairs and the privacy of the guest room you were staying in.

“I’m not talking about this right now. Goodnight, Bob.”

“Sweet dreams,” the woman replies, her tone thick with implications. “I plan to see this romance for myself on Friday night!”

---

Friday Evening…

Valek’s POV:

He feels he’s making a mistake, but he just can’t help himself.

Entering a venue amongst a large group of people, their inhibitions lowered as they celebrate, their collective blood pumping in their veins, and your mouth-watering scent among them… For all his centuries as a vampire, Valek finds himself doubting his self-control.

He’s been taking precautions, to be sure – feeding far more than usual in the days leading up to tonight, the Winter Solstice. Tempting as you are, he finds he no longer wants to feed on you – he doesn’t think of himself as worthy.

He remembers that quote about the flower by Osho – about not picking a flower that you love, as it then ceases to be – and finds it appropriate for you. As much as he wants to take you, consume you, that would deprive the world of the beauty and life that you bring into it, should he get carried away.

Despite that, he’s going to see you tonight; he can’t bring himself to stay away.

You’ve made him feel nearly alive again, ever since your meeting a few nights ago. He’s been plagued by desires; for your blood, yes, but also for more of your conversation, your smile, your essence…

He has been tempting fate these past few evenings, needing to be close to you and content to just watch from a distance as you appear at one of the manor’s windows or walk into town with your friend. He doesn’t let himself approach the home, not wanting to torment himself, even as you sleep. Instead, he has left deep red roses on the doorstep every night for you to find in the morning. Somehow, you rightly knew that they were intended for you.

He adjusts the cuffs of his blazer, still unaccustomed to this type of modern clothing. He’s chosen a black three-piece suit and tie, his shirt a deep blue that matches his mask, his hair down, and finds himself feeling only mildly foolish. Based on the conversations he’d overheard when he had first spotted you, he assumes that this is customary.

Valek is not sure what he wants from tonight beyond getting close to you – again, this all seems like a risky endeavour – but he hopes that one night will be enough to tide him over for eternity.

It would have to be.

He makes his way to the party, the path to the manor familiar to him by now, and joins the throng of people. It doesn’t take him long to find you by scent alone, avoiding attention and standing off to the side, his wallflower. You’re wearing a floor-length, strapless blue dress and a swirling mask of blue, white and gold, your hair in an elegant twist that emphasizes your graceful neck.

Tonight will be difficult.

---

Reader’s POV:

You watch the party from a respectable distance – it’s truly a sight to behold, but not really something you want to partake in yourself. You promised Roberta you would stay downstairs and in the ballroom until at least midnight, but you’re finding it difficult to keep that promise, and it’s only just past 10.

“I did not take you for someone that would attend this sort of bacchanalia, Y/N.”

The voice sends shivers down your spine, your memories and dreams over the past few days not doing it justice. Your heart immediately begins hammering away as you turn to face him, and he is utterly resplendent in blue and black – your costumes compliment each other.

“John!” you exclaim, trying to keep the overwhelming joy you’re feeling inside. “I was coerced into coming. What’s your excuse?” you ask, curious, and he smiles secretively as he holds out a glass of wine to you. He is wearing gloves, even indoors, but you don’t comment on it as you accept the beverage. Your mouth is suddenly very dry, and you take a healthy sip of the wine, feeling warm.

“I’m quite certain that the entire town was invited. I recognized the address as your own and found it difficult to believe that you would be hosting something like this; I should have known subterfuge would be involved.”

You giggle, the wine going right to your head. “This is my friend’s parents’ place; I’m staying with her while I’m in town. She demanded I stay down here until at least midnight as a lodging fee.”

“You’ll have to introduce me to her at some point tonight. I have to thank you for ensuring your attendance,” he teases in his deep, smooth voice that has your cheeks flaming beneath your mask. “You are dazzling.”

You try not to hyperventilate, pressing yourself against the wall for support.

“So do you!” you reply quickly, trying to recover. “You look…” Stunning? Gorgeous? Delicious? Like a dark prince straight from my indecent fantasies?

“…noble! Plus, we match!” you tack on hastily, trying to move right past your corniness.

John doesn’t seem to mind, giving you a dashing smile that has you nearly swooning. Instead, you quickly finish the rest of your wine, needing the courage to continue having a conversation with this unattainable entity. Your talk quickly returns to your passionate discussion of literature, and you find yourself relaxing in John’s presence, almost unaware of the party surrounding you.

Looking back up at John – you find your eyes need to take frequent breaks from gawking at him to allow you to maintain some degree of focus – you see that he is looking at you with an amused expression.

“What?”

“You’re practically dancing,” he comments, and for the first time you notice that you are indeed swaying to the music, an orchestral version of one of your favourite pop songs. “Would you like to?” he asks, and you immediately start to panic.

“No!” you cry out before it occurs to you how the rejection might be taken. “Not because you asked, I mean; I just can’t dance.”

“Nonsense,” he counters immediately, stepping closer to you and making you tilt your head nearly all the way back in order to keep looking up at his handsome face. “It’s all in the leading. May I?” he asks, extending a hand towards you. You bite your lip, setting your empty glass down on a nearby table before placing your hand into his much larger one, your fingertips tingly as they brush against the supple leather of his glove. That same feeling of electricity shoots up your arm and nearly has you letting out a moan; the alcohol clearly isn’t helping you keep your composure.

John leads you towards the edge of the dance floor, then turns and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer but not flush against him. He raises his other hand, still holding yours, then moves his gaze pointedly to your left shoulder, your arm still nervously pressed against your side. You slowly lift your hand up between your bodies, placing it on his broad shoulder, and he gives you a pleased smile. He guides you through the slow dance, his palm pressing yours in a way that somehow has you moving the right way.

“Wow, you were right!” you exclaim in surprise, hardly able to believe it. “It’s all in the leading.”

“You are also a very good partner,” John croons down at you, his eyes twinkling beneath his mask. “Very responsive…”

His words have you blushing and feeling nearly dizzy as you sway to the music under his guidance. You could happily get lost in this moment, in his blue, blue eyes forever…

But after a few songs, you’re feeling overwhelmed and need a break; it’s almost hard for you to breathe. Reluctantly, you remove your hand from his shoulder, and he respectfully releases you.

“I’m going to go get some water if I can, provided Roberta hasn’t replaced it all with vodka. Can I get you anything to drink?” you offer with a smile, wanting to do something, anything for him. John’s lips twitch in amusement, but he declines your offer, and you move through the crowd, trying not to stumble in your haste to get to the refreshment table and back to him as quickly as possible.

You gulp down the cool water greedily, still feeling so warm all over. You’re desperate to return to John – you feel a tangible ache at being apart from him, and while you’re not sure that it’s a good or healthy thing, it’s not something you’re willing to endure any longer than you have to.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Whirling around, you’re disappointed to see not John, but Michael, his black and gold costume a bit too ostentatious for your liking. But you suppose you’re being a bit unfair; there was nothing this man could do to hold a candle to John in your eyes.

“Good evening, Michael. Enjoying the party?” you ask politely, even as your eyes scan the ballroom for John – he’s not where you left him.

“I am now. Would you like to dance?”

You hesitate before giving your answer. You really don’t want to give Michael the time of day, but you’re not comfortable with rejecting him, especially surrounded by people you both knew. And even without alcohol, him possibly seeing you with John, or any other factors, men could be unpredictable when they were jealous or rejected. You look for John somewhat desperately one last time, hoping he’ll come save you, but he is nowhere to be found.

“Okay,” you agree noncommittally, unable to feign even a shred of enthusiasm. Unlike John, Michael pulls you tightly against him as he dances with you, his hips chasing yours in a way that makes you feel dirty and uncomfortable. You try to step away after the song ends, but he tightens his grip on you, giving you a pleading expression, and you resign yourself to another dance. He isn’t even bothering to try to speak with you, content to occupy your body rather than your mind, and you’re not upset about it as it allows you to keep your thoughts on John.

You manage to talk Michael out of asking for a third dance, but he doesn’t get the hint, attaching himself to your side as you move through the ballroom, still looking for John. He was so tall, so impressive, so utterly impossible to miss, that you’ve all but accepted that he’s left the party. You hope he hadn’t seen you dancing with Michael and gotten the wrong impression…

The large clock chimes twelve times, and you’ve never been more grateful for the sound. You’ve held up your end of the bargain to Roberta, and are now free to leave the party, and without John’s presence, there’s nothing to keep you here.

You fake a yawn, trying to look at Michael with an apologetic expression that you know rings hollow.

“Oh, I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. I’m exhausted,” you say. Michael looks pleased to hear this information, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end at his expression.

“Would you like me to walk you to your room?” he purrs, and you suppress a shudder, certain that he will misinterpret it.

“Oh, no thank you,” you say clearly. “It was wonderful to see you again, Michael. Have a good night.”

You move past him without another word, not wanting this conversation to go on any longer, and hurry to the staircase and your bedroom. You slip inside and immediately take your mask off, feeling dejected. John’s presence at the party had been such a wonderful surprise, but his disappearance has left you feeling hollow and surprisingly upset.

There’s a knock at the door and you reluctantly open it, expecting Roberta to be chastising you. Instead, John’s tall form looms in the doorway, his dark mask still concealing his face. You briefly stop breathing, your heart thudding against your ribs.

“John!” you cry, the joy evident in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you leave after speaking with that man from the park, and you looked upset. Are you alright?”

“I –” you start to say, but you pause, wanting to choose your words carefully. Were you alright? Probably not, considering you were head over heels for a mystery man you barely knew.

“I thought you had left, and I didn’t want Michael bothering me anymore,” you tell him instead, keeping things vague. “Where did you go? I was kind of hoping you would come rescue me.”

“Well, that wouldn’t have been proper.”

“Regardless, it would have been appreciated.”

John opens his mouth to continue your banter but freezes, his head turning to the stairs. After a moment, you hear the footsteps that had undoubtedly caught his attention; he must have excellent hearing. Feeling brazen, especially seeing as you don’t know if or when you would see him again, you take John’s hand and tug him inside, closing the door and turning out the light. You press your ear against the door, listening to the approaching footsteps. John watches you, an amused smirk on his face, and you glare at him in the silence. Eventually, the footsteps retreat, and after a moment or two of waiting, you conclude that Michael has gone, flicking the light back on with a sigh.

“You know, you could consider telling the man you are not interested,” John suggests with amusement. You growl at him.

“I shouldn’t have to outright reject him to keep him from trying to follow me to my bedroom,” you snarl, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Plus, men aren’t always the most accepting of a rejection.”

John is visibly upset by the implications of your words, and something about his slight shift in demeanour has you feeling wary.

“Are you suggesting that someone hurt you as a result of you rejecting them?” he hisses, the sound making you shudder.

“It was a long time ago, and it wasn’t that bad,” you reply quickly, wanting him to settle down. “Loads of my friends have experienced way worse! It’s fine, John, really,” you add, trying to reassure him. His jaw is still clenched, but he takes a deep breath, clearly trying to calm down.

“Why would anyone respond with such anger?” he asks, sounding appalled. Perhaps the culture where he was from was vastly different from America.

“Most people only want to hear what they want to hear,” you say with a shrug. “No one is interested in honesty. I mean, I think I prefer the truth, but even I lie to people if the need arises – I’ve accepted that it’s necessary.”

“Do you mean you would always prefer the truth?” he asks, his eyes locking with yours with a serious expression.

“Yes.”

“In every circumstance?” he presses, clearly fishing for something. It has you feeling nervous.

“Yes, I think so,” you breathe, your eyes at his back as he walks across the room to look out your window. After what feels like an eternity, he turns back to you.

“I have not been honest with you, Y/N,” he confesses, looking deeply into your eyes with a pained expression, and you immediately feel yourself choke up. Of course this wasn’t real; there’s no way that somebody like him could truly exist.

Best get the truth out of him now, then, so that you could move on. You can already feel tears pricking your eyes, so immediately affected by his deception.

“W-What do you mean, John?” you ask in a weak, timid voice, and he takes a deep breath before responding.

“My name is not John,” he begins, and you tense up, the blood in your veins turning to ice. “I am Jan Valek, the first and oldest vampire.”

Neither of you blink or say anything for a long moment, your eyes locked. Finally, you let out a breathless, slightly hysterical laugh, the alcohol burning away your nerves.

“T-That’s a good one!” you giggle, unable to contain yourself, and John surveys you with a mildly irritated expression.

“I could prove it to you, if you’d like,” he offers.

“Oh by all means, go ahead!” you agree, beginning to laugh harder.

In a movement far too quick for you to see, he closes the distance between you, taking you in his arms and lowering his head to the side of your neck for a long moment, inhaling deeply. Your laughter dies in your throat immediately. He releases you, taking a step back before reaching up to pull away his mask. Blue veins beneath his pale skin are now prominent around his eyes, and he opens his mouth, revealing a rapidly growing set of sharp fangs.

You scream, stumbling backwards, but then he is on you once more, covering your mouth and nose with a gloved hand and lowering you to the ground gently.

“Calm down, Y/N,” he commands you, a strange light shining in his eyes, and against all rational thought you feel your body start to relax, your heartbeat returning to normal.

“That’s good,” he murmurs approvingly. “Speak quietly,” he adds, his eyes doing the glowing thing again, and you feel the scream you had been building up fade away. He removes his hand from your face, and you wrench yourself out of his grip, scampering back and away from him.

“What…” you begin, clearing your throat as your voice comes out hoarse and soft. “What did you just do?” you demand, the alcohol helping you push past your fear into anger.

“Mesmerization – it’s a sort of hypnosis,” John – Valek, apparently – explains, his voice calm.

“You hypnotized me?!” you hiss, injecting as much venom into your voice as possible since you are unable to yell at him.

“I didn’t want you to draw anyone’s attention, Y/N, I apologize,” the vampire offers, somehow sounding both sincere and unrepentant.

“Why? Are you going to kill me?” you ask him, whimpering at the thought. Strangely, the thought doesn’t upset you as much as the fact that he has been lying to you.

“No.” His reply is forceful and immediate; he looks anguished at the mere suggestion.

“Then what do you want?!” you cry out as loudly as you can, tears streaking down your face. You’re very aware of how the cut of your dress and your updo leave your neck completely exposed, and you pull your hair out of its twist to fall past your shoulders, concealing you. You know that it’s a completely pointless gesture, but you can’t help yourself, the instinct to cover yourself overwhelming.

Valek watches you with a pained, sad expression.

“It is not your blood that I desire, but your heart,” he confesses, longing and desire filling his eyes. “When I first came upon you, I did want to feed on you. Your scent is… intoxicating,” he groans slightly, his eyes rolling back into his head. Goosebumps erupt over your body as pure, primal terror courses through you.

“But as I heard you speak, as I watched you, as I spoke to you myself, you captivated me,” he continues, as though he hadn’t just admitted to wanting to drink your blood. “I have never been drawn to another as I have been drawn to you, Y/N. I have lived over seven hundred years, and in you I find a kindred spirit for the first time; you make me feel alive in ways I long thought were impossible. I have never wanted another the way that I want you, and I know that I will never find another like you as long as I live. I would happily spend the remainder of my existence by your side, and you would be the only thing in this world that I would cherish.”

There is a prolonged silence between you as you struggle to think of something, anything to say in response. Eventually, you give up.

“What am I supposed to say to that?” you ask, your voice slightly hysterical. How could you believe any of this?

“Do you desire me in the same way? As a confidante, a partner, a lover?” he asks bluntly. “Please, beloved, tell the truth,” he adds, and you feel the mesmerization at work once more. You’re upset that he’s controlling you with his strange magical abilities, but the urge to answer builds within you, creating a pressure so great that you are quickly forced to respond.

“Yes,” you moan out the truth, the intense feeling immediately dissipating as the words leave your lips. “You have been everything I have waited for, everything that I hoped a soulmate could be.”

The look he gives you is that of a man seeing the sun for the first time, awe and euphoria practically pouring out of him.

“But this is too much!” you continue, brushing aside the guilt that makes your heart clench as you watch his own break at your words. “You wanted to hurt me, to kill me! You’re not even human! And you lied to me – how am I meant to trust anything you say, to trust you with my life, when I’m… I’m so scared of you right now!” you sob hysterically, wrapping your arms around your knees. “I don’t want to feel this way for you, I don’t want to love you!”

You force yourself to look back up at him, scared at what your rejection might cause him to do. He is frozen in his crouched position on the floor across from you, eerily still, an expression of pure agony on his face. His eyes flit to yours, and then he nods, standing up in a flash of movement that causes you to let out a strangled yelp. He lifts you to your feet before you can protest, his movements gentle and controlled, and you find yourself trembling in his grip.

“Sleep, beloved,” he murmurs, and your eyelids immediately feel heavy. He guides you to your bed, helping you onto it but making no move to join you. You know that you should feel upset, angry, terrified – who knew what the extent of his strangely hypnotic powers were? – but you find yourself trusting him against your better judgement. He covers you with the blanket, looming over you, and you close your eyes – it’s too difficult to look at him right now. Still, you feel a tear escape and trail down your cheek at the mess of emotions that would be overwhelming you right now if you weren’t so tired.

“Be at peace, my treasure,” he coos softly as you drift off. “I wish for nothing more than your happiness.”

---

The next few days are hard and lonely. You had steadfastly rejected Roberta’s invitation to spend Christmas and New Year’s Eve at a nearby ski lodge with your other friends, desperately needing to be alone. You’re grateful for the time to yourself – you know you wouldn’t be able to hide the turmoil of your emotions from anybody. You had initially wanted to get a flight back to school when you woke up the day after the party, wanting to be away from this place and anything that made you think of him, but a snowstorm had grounded all flights.

You’ve been too scared to leave the house, afraid of running into him despite knowing that he wouldn’t need to lie in wait for you in town if he wanted to see you. Regardless, you’re grateful for the fully stocked fridge and pantry – there was no reason you would have to leave the little bubble of safety you had encased yourself in.

You yawn once again despite it being the middle of the day, rubbing your eyes sleepily. The days since the masquerade have been devastating – you’ve floated around in a fog, confused and heartbroken and exhausted. You can’t get Valek out of your head; you dream of him, you think you see him in the shadowy corners of the manor… you recognize the symptoms of lovesickness and heartbreak from your favourite old romance novels, but you never expected that the pain could be quite so intense.

You’ve taken to jotting your thoughts and feelings down in your journal, just needing to get them out of your head – this isn’t exactly the sort of thing that you can talk to Roberta about. A shame, really; she’d been wanting for you to have a love life for years now, and now that you actually have a situation you can’t even come to her with it.

You wander around the manor, eventually ending up in the ballroom – you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to visit it since the night of the masquerade. You wrap your arms around your body comfortingly – the large, open space is incredibly drafty and cold when not filled with people. Your eyes instinctively move to the wall on the far side of the room where the two of you had stood, and you again feel overwhelmed by your emotions. You miss him terribly; not just his presence, but the way he made you feel worthwhile, hopeful for the first time in a long time.

But, as much as your heart aches with regret, you can’t stop the shiver of fear that runs through you at the thought. Valek was a vampire, immortal, lethal; he had wanted to kill you before you had even met!

You force yourself to head back to your room, the ballroom bringing up too much for you to handle just now. It’s dark again already, and you turn the bedroom light on as you enter. Your eyes flit to your journal, still laid open on your desk, bits and pieces of your handwriting jumping off the page at you.

… It isn’t only the feelings he sparks in me, but their depth; I never would have believed such intense emotion existed, let alone that it could be felt so much, and for so long…

… I haven’t had a restful sleep since that night, and it’s starting to affect even my waking life. I see him in every shadow, anticipate him around every corner; he has consumed me entirely, and I fear that it will go on forever…

You grimace down at your messy cursive, feeling pathetic. Who’s to say that he had even been genuine about his feelings for you in the first place? You could be mourning the loss of a relationship that he never even wanted.

You turn to sit on your bed, and as you do you notice that your book of poetry is open on your bedside table, a deep red rose placed along the spine as a bookmark. You freeze. You had buried that book in your luggage the morning after the party, and tossed the roses away immediately afterwards, not wanting to see anything to do with him, and you have been alone in the house for days now. Against your better judgement, you pick up the book, moving the rose to rest on the table and reading the poem on the open page.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

You find yourself tearing up as you read the poem with fresh eyes, Valek’s choice both beautiful and heart-wrenching. You’re still unsure if you can believe his feelings to be genuine, but if they are, you both share the same intense angst of an unrequited love. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself as you prepare to confront him.

“Valek?” you call out, your quiet voice still echoing through the silent old house. It was the first time you had said his real name; you haven’t allowed yourself to since learning it.

There’s a light breeze behind you and when you turn, Jan Valek is standing in the middle of your bedroom. Your heart races immediately, both in fear and longing, and you’re unable to tell whether you want to run into his arms or to run away. You survey each other in silence for a long moment, and then he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Don’t!” you growl out, your voice not betraying any of the nervousness and fear you’re currently feeling. His mouth snaps shut.

“Don’t even think about trying your mesmerizing hocus pocus on me, Jan Valek!” you snarl, and he presses his lips into a thin line; you think he may be trying to keep himself from laughing, which only fuels your anger.

“Who the hell do you think you are? You follow me around because you want to… kill me, or eat me, or whatever, you spy on me, you hyponotize me into confessing that I’m in love with you, you break in, you read my journal, you go through my things!” you pause mid-rant to catch your breath, angrily tossing the book of poetry at him, and he lets it smack him in the chest, remaining perfectly still. “How am I meant to feel about all of this, Valek?! I’m scared, I’m angry, I haven’t slept in days, I don’t even feel like a person anymore! You’ve ruined me!” you sob, unable to look him in the eye, instead staring at the ground in front of his feet.

“But I don’t need to tell you any of that; God knows you’ve been watching me suffer this whole time,” you whisper softly, your anger completely drained from you and replaced with a painful emptiness. You hear a sharp intake of breath that makes you look up at him through your tears; he looks completely devastated.

“So what do you want?” you ask, bracing yourself for the answer, be it in the form of words or his fangs piercing your flesh. “Why are you here?” you demand, crossing your arms in front of you.

“I could not bring myself to stay away,” he admits in a quiet, pained voice, looking at the ground just as you had during your own little speech. “At first I was merely being selfish, needing to see you again. Then, I saw you suffering as I have been, and I needed to know that you would pull out of it, that you would be alright. But it has been days, and you are in such pain… I do not know what I can do to make it stop, but I will do anything you ask; I cannot bear knowing of your heartache any longer.”

Your heartbreak takes on an entirely different level of hurt as you watch this giant, otherworldly man come undone at witnessing your suffering. So much of your soul longs for Valek, your love for him rivaling all other emotions, and you find yourself needing to ease his pain, so intertwined with your own. But how to do it?

“Give me a minute,” you tell him quietly when he looks like he’s becoming agitated with your lack of response, “I’m trying to think.” He nods, seeming relieved that you’re planning on answering him at all.

You force yourself to confront all of the negative feelings that this man – for he was still a man, at least in some regard – to try to figure out where they were coming from and how they could be rectified. There was just so much that was completely unknown to you: who he was, what he was, what he wanted with you… perhaps getting some answers would help clarify things for you.

“You forced me to tell you the truth,” you remind him bitterly, and his mouth twists into a grimace. He certainly seems to regret his actions. “Will you do the same for me? Answer my questions honestly, no matter what?”

He nods immediately, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. “I will never lie to you again, dear one. Ask me anything, and I will tell you true. And if at the end you wish to be rid of me, I will never bother you again.”

Your heart twinges painfully at the mere thought of never seeing him again, but you push your feelings down for the moment, giving him a nod.

“Sit first, please,” he implores you, gesturing to your bed. “You are exhausted, beloved.” You move back, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, not wanting to get too comfortable and fall asleep. Now that Valek is here, much of the pain you had been enduring had gone away, being replaced with overwhelming fatigue.

“What about you?” you ask, crossing your legs under yourself.

“I do not tire as you do; my kind has no need for sleep.”

“Well, sit for my sake then, if you would. Looking up at you will hurt my neck after awhile.”

Amused, he looks around the room at his various seating options, then neglects them all in favour of kneeling on the carpet before you, looking up at you with pure devotion.

“V-Valek,” you stammer, peering down at him. “I meant in a chair…”

“I am where I wish to be, Y/N. Now please, what answers are you wanting to hear?” he insists, gazing up at you expectantly.

You decide to start with some of the safer, less personal questions – namely, the ones about vampirism.

“So… you’re a vampire,” you begin hesitantly, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.

“I am,” he answers, smiling at you indulgently.

“Does that mean that you kill people regularly?” You hold your breath, bracing yourself for the answer.

“Not regularly,” he clarifies. “I have killed vampire Slayers who attempted to kill me and mine, mostly.”

“There are vampire slayers?” you interrupt him, incredulous.

“Yes, they are a part of the Catholic Church.”

You blink down at him, stunned as you process that piece of information. “That’s… er… alright.”

“I do not make a habit of killing humans, Y/N,” he continues, returning to your initial question. “I have, on occasion, gone too far while feeding, and lost myself to the moment, but not for many years. It is largely an issue of self-restraint, and I have had centuries to develop that.”

You mull this information over.

“So you don’t normally kill people to feed on them?”

“Rarely, and never intentionally.”

“And how often do you feed?”

“Every week or so.”

“And do your… victims know about it?”

Valek looks away from you with a contrite expression. You wait him out for a long moment, staring down at the top of his head, but he doesn’t respond.

“You promised,” you remind him, and he looks back at you, ashamed.

“They do not,” he admits, and you find yourself reflexively leaning away from him. His eyes track your movement with an unhappy expression. “Please, may I explain to you why?”

You nod; if he’s willing to give you the truth, the least you can do is listen to it.

“Once we have fed, it is common practice to coat the wound in our saliva. It seals the wound and expedites healing. By morning, they will have a faint bruise, and the area may feel tender for a day or two, but nothing more. I typically mesmerize the victim to sleep beforehand; they never realize anything has happened.”

“You mesmerized me to sleep,” you point out with a cold expression. “Did you feed on me?”

“No, beloved, I assure you. I knew from the first minutes of our conversation that I would never in good conscience feed on you,” he reveals, sincerity ringing in every word. “Without your permission, that is.”

“Why would someone give permission to be fed on?” you ask, confused. “What good does it do them?”

“Companionship between vampires and humans is not unheard of, romantic or otherwise, though I have no personal experience with that sort of thing,” Valek says, and your heart skips a beat. “Some humans offer themselves to be fed on in place of unwitting victims, believing it to be easier on their conscience for befriending one of my kind.”

He rests his head on your mattress next to your legs, looking up at you with a scorching gaze that has your knees going weak. “I have also been told that the sensation of being fed on is nothing short of ecstasy.”

Your mouth goes dry, and you busy yourself by adjusting your position – namely so that you can clench your legs together, darkly seductive images coming to mind. Perhaps Valek’s vampirism was yet another reason you had been drawn to him, your sexual fantasies far less innocent than your relative inexperience would suggest.

“Regardless,” you say, trying to get back on track – or at least away from the current topic. “Just because you heal someone up afterwards and they never know about it doesn’t justify feeding on them without their knowledge.”

“I agree with you; my reasons are entirely selfish,” Valek concedes, looking regretful once more. “But think of how you responded when I showed you what I am; how you are still afraid of me now.”

You swallow, thinking back to the primal fear that flowed through you as you had seen his true form for the first time.

“I do not enjoy being a monster, Y/N,” Valek admits, his voice filled with anguish. “I do not want to cause harm to humans, to see their fear and revulsion in their eyes. Not even if I can compel them to forget it by morning.”

You pity him, seeing the toll that the centuries of suffering he has endured has taken on him. It wasn’t his choice to be a vampire, you presume, and watching others be terrified of you for doing what was necessary to stay alive must be intolerable. Perhaps there is some logic to his approach…

You pester him with further questions, each of his answers only bringing up more questions. He tells you about his abilities – you grill him particularly aggressively about mesmerization – and how many of his kind there are, which prompts questions about how someone is Turned into a vampire. The interrogation goes on for ages, and you find yourself fighting your fatigue more and more as the night stretches on.

“You said that you were the first vampire the other day - How did you become a vampire if no one was around to bite you?” you ask, immediately feeling horribly guilty as the question has him nearly cringing. “I’m sorry! You don’t have to tell me.”

He looks back up at you appreciatively, slowly lifting a gloved hand to yours, stroking the back of your hand. You snatch up one of his fingers, giving it a squeeze with a shy smile, and his gaze softens at the gesture.

“I said that I would tell you the truth, my treasure, and I will. But thank you for your grace, Y/N,” Valek coos, and you feel yourself blush. He summarizes the brutal and unjust exorcism gone wrong, and you feel a vicious rage building within you that you haven’t experienced before.

“That’s horrific,” you hiss, nearly shaking in your anger. Valek reaches up without having to look, reclaiming your hand once more.

“Do not be angry, beloved – it was very long ago, and I have made peace with it.”

“How?!” you ask incredulously. “What could possibly help you get over something like that?”

“It enabled me to meet you.”

His tone is casual, as though it should be obvious that knowing you was worth torture and a warped, twisted life of immortality, though he can’t bring himself to look into your eyes. You’re sure he can hear the way your heart is hammering under your ribs.

“Valek… you can’t mean that.”

He smoothly gets to his feet, turning to look down at you with reverence. “I do mean it, little one,” he croons. “I may have accepted this existence centuries ago, but I have never been grateful for it until I met you. My heart no longer beats, but I feel as though it could for you, Y/N. I desire you in any and every capacity you would allow me to have you, my love."

The confession is everything you dreamed of hearing one day, and so much more.

“The other vampires that you mentioned before, the ones that were involved romantically with humans… how did those relationships end?” you ask hesitantly, and Valek’s eyes light up at the implication that you aren’t completely shutting down the idea of being with him.

“Some go their separate ways, some live out their partner’s mortal life with them, and others go on forever, the vampire Turning the human,” he explains, laying out your options. “I would never Turn you unless it was something that you wanted, Y/N,” he assures you. “I will be with you until your dying breath if you permit it, be that as a mortal or a vampire.”

You’re not sure when you moved off the bed, but you find yourself slowly closing the distance between you until you’re nearly in his arms.

“You are mesmerizing me, Jan Valek,” you accuse, looking up at him with unbridled longing. “You have to be. This can’t be real.”

“I assure you that you have the same hold on me, my treasure,” Valek purrs, his presence seeming to surround you, though he makes no move to touch you, as though worried the gesture might scare you away. “You have me completely at your mercy, Y/N. I will give you anything, you need only to ask.”

“I… I want everything that you are, Valek,” you confess, feeling as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders the moment you get the words out. “I love you; I need you.”

Valek slowly reaches for you, drawing you close to him with an arm around your waist, his other hand gently brushing a loose lock of hair behind your ear before cradling the side of your face.

“Kiss me,” you beg in a whisper, and he immediately obliges, bending to capture your lips with his own. The tingling sensation that had raced through you when your hand had touched his gloved one in the past pales in comparison to the sheer electricity that courses through you as your lips meet. Your desire fully overwhelms you as you throw yourself at him, leaping into his arms to twine your arms around his neck, your bodies flush with one another as you kiss him with everything you’ve got.

Valek seems briefly taken aback by your ferocity; it takes him a moment before he lifts you right off your feet, holding you against him with ease as you devour one another. His lips are surprisingly soft and warm, and incredibly inviting – you find yourself getting dizzy. Valek lowers you back to the ground, trying to break the kiss, but you cling to him; he ends up having to forcefully pull you off of him.

“You stopped breathing, beloved,” he explains with a chuckle when you pout at him, not even aware of your body frantically trying to catch its breath. You blush, horribly embarrassed, and he scoops you up, carrying you to the bed and sitting you down on it, moving to stand back from you, intent on waiting for you to calm down.

“That’s hardly my fault,” you say huffily, staring up at him with dark, hooded eyes, and he smirks down at you in a way that has your whole body trembling with need. “Please don’t stop!”

Valek has you on your back on the bed quicker than you can blink, looming over you with his larger form but pointedly not touching you. Impatiently, you reach up to pull him down but he thwarts your attempts, gathering your wrists and pinning them over your head gently with one hand. Such a little act of dominance has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, completely ready and willing to give yourself to him in any way he wants.

“Tell me what you need, my heart. I want to taste your desire in your words,” he purrs, lowering his body closer to yours but remaining just out of reach.

He makes you want to let go and lose control and just feel, and you tell him as much, shamelessly begging him to take you and do all the darkly romantic, sensual things you didn’t think you’d ever be able to bring yourself to ask for. The heated look he gives you assures you that he will give you them all and nearly has you delirious with lust.

He moves agonizingly slowly, his hands controlled and precise as he undresses you. Every inch of your flesh exposed to his gaze is looked upon with adoration and awe, and he doesn’t stop to give into his burning desire to touch you until he has fully divested you of your clothes, relying on every shred of patience he’s developed during the course of his existence. Having not had his centuries of experience, you eagerly try to push his heavy coat off his shoulders, your fingers moving to the buttons on his shirt as he chuckles and moves to help you take off his coat.

“Patience, my dear,” Valek croons, taking hold of your hands once more as you squirm underneath him, chilly and impatient and desperate for his touch. “I fully intend to savour every moment of this as I make you mine.”

“But I want to see you!” you whine, pouting up at him and batting your eyes. He looks down at your naked form, desperate with need for him, and the pale blue veins around his eyes start to appear as he gives into his carnal desires. He licks his lips, and you see his fangs sharpening in his mouth.

“Fuck,” you moan wantonly as his vampiric side comes out. Instead of the fear that you had felt the first time you had seen him in this form, now it only sends a thrill through you; somehow, you want him even more because of the danger he poses. Valek, however, misunderstands and immediately moves to soothe you.

“It is alright, Y/N, just the similarities between bloodlust and my lust for you that bring this side out of me. I can stop if you are frightened, but I assure you that I am still in control of myself.”

“I’m not!” you pant, unsuccessfully trying to squirm out of his grip and pounce on him. “Please, Valek, I’m not scared of you doing anything except stopping.”

He leans down to kiss you once again to silence your complaints, and you happily oblige him, letting him kiss you into submission, his dark hair falling around you like a curtain. Still with his lips on yours, Valek tears his gloves off to reveal his long, slender fingers and sharp nails, running them lightly up your sides and making you arch up off the bed with a wail, your cries swallowed by his mouth.

He releases your lips, allowing you to catch your breath while he lays kisses all over your face as though he wants to claim every inch of you. You hope he does; you’re already all his.

“Your skin tastes of sunshine,” he murmurs seductively, his lips moving lightly down your neck to one of your shoulders, then slowly making their way along your collarbone to the other. “I would bask in your warmth forever if you would let me, beloved.”

“I will, I do,” you moan, reaching between you to try to finish taking off his shirt. A loud, purring rumble emanates from within him as your fingers stroke his bare chest, giving you a fluttering sense of pride. Feeling more confident, you slide your hands up along his neck to hold his face, tilting it upwards so that his eyes meet yours. He cocks his head at you with an inquisitive expression.

“You know that I love your old-fashioned approach to romance, Valek,” you tell him seriously, “and we will have my entire lifetime – if not forever – to take things slow. But I need to be yours right now. And I don’t want you to be gentle; show me that you desire me the way I do you – don’t hold back.”

He gives you a nearly feral look, his hands curling into fists as he tries to control himself; somehow, you are able to sense the energy he’s fighting to keep inside of him instead of tearing into something.

“You wish for a taste of darkness, beloved?” he asks, pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the side. You gawk at his broad, pale chest, trying not to drool, and lick your lips. Valek hisses at the action, adjusting himself over his pants. You sit up, your hands moving to his belt; this time, he doesn’t stop you.

“I wish for a taste of you, Valek,” you tell him in a fierce whisper, looking up at him as you remove his belt and move to the button of his pants. “If being rough with me will make you feel half as good as I know it’ll make me feel, then yes, please. Claim me, my love. Make all of me yours.”

He pins you back against the sheets with a growl, his sharp nails drawing teasing patterns across your breasts, your nipples peaking as if to demand more of the rough treatment. You arch your back, thrusting your breasts into his hands with a needy cry. Valek is utterly merciless in his torment, bringing you to the threshold between pleasure and pain and keeping you there. You are practically vibrating with need as one of his hands trails down your torso to your thighs, parting them with ease. One long finger slips between your slick folds, grazing your clit, and you shriek, bucking your hips towards him. You hear him snicker softly against your chest, his lips and tongue continuing to tease your breasts as his hands move lower.

“You are otherworldly when you are giving into sin, Y/N,” he croons, his fingers insistent as they explore your entrance, slick with your arousal. You let out a whimper that he swallows into his mouth, his fingers working at your clit and not relenting until you’re on the precipice of orgasm before he backs off, only to repeat the action, edging you over and over until you’re nearly delirious. And still, all you want is more.

“Please!” you manage to beg him, your hands guiding his face to your neck, wordlessly trying to convey what you want. You’re losing all sense of lucidity, clinging desperately to your sanity as he brings you so close to the edge. Valek turns his head to the side, his tongue reaching out to lick the outer shell of your ear and making you shiver.

“Please what, my sweet? I want to hear you say it,” he whispers, and you can tell he is enjoying prolonging your torture.

“Bite me! Feed on me!” you demand shamelessly, your eyes shut tight as you try to focus on the feeling of his mouth on your skin, seeking any indication that he will give this to you. “Make me scream for you.”

You hear him inhale deeply, his nose lightly running up and down the side of your neck, and you turn your head to the side to give him better access. His fingers have stopped their endless teasing of your swollen clit, but you are still trembling in anticipation. You feel his tongue dart out and give your sensitive flesh a sinful lick, making you gasp for breath.

Finally, you feel him bite you, the only pain being a slight sting that only adds to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you. You’re not even sure that ecstasy was an accurate enough description for this feeling coursing through your veins – the pleasure is absolutely indescribable. Your eyes roll back in your head, the parts of your body not currently pinned in place by his body thrashing out of your control as you come violently. You hear yourself distantly shrieking in rapture, moaning and whimpering his name, babbling for more as he feeds on you, his fingers relentless at your clit and drawing out your climax – or maybe he was just making you orgasm again and again without interruption.

Eventually, he ends his torment, licking your wound to seal it before lifting his head from your neck, traces of blood on his lips. He stares down at you with a satiated expression, trying to remove his hand from between your clenched thighs, still spasming and out of your control. You’re sure that your inner thighs will be bruised from how you had squeezed them against his firm hand, and the idea only adds to your bliss. He leans down to kiss you but hesitates, unsure of your willingness to taste your own blood. You’re able to gather enough strength and lucidity to force yourself to sit up and kiss him, pulling him down to lay on top of you. There is a slight metallic taste to his lips, but it is largely overshadowed by the intoxicating taste of Valek, an indescribable flavour that you’re sure you’ll never get enough of.

“Finally satisfied, my little temptress?” Valek asks teasingly against your lips, your body completely relaxed beneath him.

“Nearly,” you hum through a yawn, blindly reaching to remove his pants once more. He groans, rolling over with you and cradling you on top of his chest.

“You are exhausted, beloved,” he points out, stroking your hair affectionately. “There will be time enough for that later.” Stubbornly, you ignore him, pushing yourself up onto your knees and tugging his pants down his legs, trying and failing to dodge his hands as they snatch up your wrists.

“Valek!” you whine, pouting down at him. His lips quirk into a smile at your persistence, and you narrow your eyes at him before throwing one leg over him and straddling his narrow waist, inches away from where you really want to be. Valek stills, transfixed, and you slowly bend down until your face is right above his, feeling decidedly naughty.

“I believe we agreed that you would be rough with me, my love,” you murmur, one hand drawing teasing patterns across his bare chest. “I hope you don’t think I’m so delicate that I’ve already had enough of you tonight. I need you to defile me, inside and out.” You grind yourself against his firm abdominal muscles, and he growls. You decide to try the innocent approach next to get him to give in.

“Please?” you ask, batting your eyelashes down at him with the most innocent expression you can muster, and he lets out a wild snarl, rolling you onto your back again and tearing off the rest of his clothes hastily before positioning himself between your legs. You can’t see his cock, pressed against him as you are, but you can certainly feel it, the silky hard length rubbing against your thighs enticingly. Eagerly, you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to line him up with your entrance by feel alone.

“You will be my undoing, my treasure,” he tells you, his blue eyes locked with yours, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you until your foreheads touch.

“And you will be my forever, Valek,” you reply, kissing him passionately. He thrusts into your wet heat in one fluid movement that has your toes curling and sets about claiming you yet again; you have only so much time before the sunrise.

---

[FYI: The poem Valek chose for her is “Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond” by E.E. Cummings]

Hope you all enjoyed! Day #3's fic is looking to be more depraved than this one, if all goes according to plan... 👁️👄👁️ (It's a carry-over from Dark Desires October I didn't get to; sue me!)

#Thomas Ian Griffith #Jan Valek #Jan Valek x Reader #Valek #Valek x Reader #TIGmas #12 Days of TIGmas #Smut #Romance #Christmas Fic #John Carpenter’s Vampires #Vampires

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moonshinemusings · 1 year

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This blog *-* Can I have a headcanon for Price ? The ones for Soap and Alejandro are ghgffhh <3

Hello there! I'm really glad you like my blog, thank you! Here are some headcanons about our favourite Captain :)

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General John Price headcanons (Pt.1)

Warnings: slight mentions of PTSD, depression (?), smoking, canon typical violence

A/N: This turns pretty grim by the end, but I hope you still like it!

• This man watches football whenever he can and he's been at matches quite a lot in his life. He took Gaz with him a few times, even Laswell once

• Sometimes he snores like a dad and Gaz needed several days to get used to the sound in order to sleep when they started working together

• Tells horrible dad jokes all the time and he knows most of the guys hate them, but won't stop

• Coughs like his lungs will collapse but somehow he's healthy

• His knee always crunches like it's about to break

• He's mostly unperturbed by all the carnage and violence by now, but he saw a baby being born once and almost fainted and threw up

• In full honesty he doesn't mind cheaper cigars, but he likes to fuck with everyone by acting like he hates them

• The smell of the smoke on his breath/clothes is really noteable but he doesn't care

• Has a high alcohol tolerance. The only way you will know if he's getting tipsy is by noticing the subtle change in his accent to deeper and more slurred words. If somehow he's really gone, then you will know by the little red tints on his cheeks (which are mostly hidden by his facial hair, but you can see it up close)

• Not an early bird. He tends to be grumpy in the mornings, but if you give him coffee it's gonna be fine

• Which reminds me: his preferred drink will always be a good whiskey, but he usually downs anything he has to (coffee, tea, those horrible protein shakes, vitamin mixes and so on)

• Occasionally reads, mostly classics or novels

• Prefers salty food over sweet

• The secret of the facial hair? Patience and genuine care about his appearance. He shaves for like an hour every time because he doesn't want to ruin his mustache/beard (Alex is the same damn way I swear)

• He likes jazz music and 80's rock. Sometimes he blasts those horrendous English raps too because he knows the others hate it (sorry if I insulted anyone lol)

• Thinks pineapple on pizza is hideous (Soap loves it lol)

• He's had so many broken bones in his life, he has no idea if there is any in his body that he didn't destroy at least once yet

• He doesn't really like action/military based movies because of the unnecessary violence in them. They remind him of things he doesn't want to remember too much. He'd rather watch shitty romantic movies or even comedies, but he won't be caught dead while laughing at them. He also tends to laugh while watching horror movies, but the heavy gore can remind him of bad memories

• He doesn't care about social media or any of that stuff really. Sometimes Gaz shows him stuff like cat videos because he loves them. Everything he knows he got it from Kyle tbh

• He has no fashion sense whatsoever. Outside of work he either looks like a dad on vacation, or still wears too much stuff similar to his gear that he seems to be going back to work in 10 minutes

• He likes fuzzy socks btw

• Adores big dogs, he can just wrestle with them and when they lay on him it makes him feel centered and comfortable thanks to their weight

• Unreasonably good at poker and he has the highest record with like 2 wins behind Laswell (who he just can't beat)

• He can handcraft a bunch of stuff if you give him a piece of wood and a knife. He made little figures for Gaz and the guy kept them as lucky charms over the years

• He doesn't fuss around too much about food and he's not picky. Whatever he gets, he gets, and that's fine by him (he used to live off worst stuff anyways). He loves meat though, a nice steak always puts him in a good mood. Also probably makes mean bbq

• Drinks beverages like orange juice or even milk straight out of the carton

• He's a man who always keeps his promises. Not one to lie or feed half truths, he always straight up says everything he has to

• Has a collection of weird/dumb looking beanies he has received over the years from his team

• He met Kate's wife once and she made him feel like family in the best way possible. He was glad his best friend had such a great person in their life that they could go home to

• Very protective of his men. He has lost too many friends and doesn't want to lose anyone else

• His biggest fear is ending up alone, watching everyone he loves die

• Every man he has lost weights heavy on his shoulders. He remembers their faces, but not all their names which makes him feel even more guilty

• Tends to bottle up his emotions and act like everything is fine. Sometimes he breaks down seemingly out of nowhere, but only when he's alone

• Kate is his closest friend and when it gets really bad, she's the one he seeks out

• He has occasional nightmares just like everyone else, but feels like he's dealing well with them (mostly he does)

• He has a watch he got from Soap as a birthday gift once. He only wears it outside of work because it's too important for him to get it damaged in any way

• He rarely has free time or time away from work, but he gets the most out of it. He has a few safe houses, but prefers to spend his time in one in particular because it has all his personal belongings he has left

• At first he thought the "you're everyone's father" was a joke, but then he realized how genuinely they meant that and he kind of broke down. He didn't think he deserved that amount of deep affection and what came with a title such as that, but it made him feel unexplainably happy at the same time

• He's not sure if he ever wants a family. He knows the military is his life and would never leave it behind, unless he has to retire because he can't keep up anymore (even then, only if they force him). The idea of having someone who loves him waiting at home brings warmth to his chest, but he's not sure if he deserves it. He doesn't want to taint anyone with his hands that hold so much blood on them

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #mw2 #modern warfare2 #john price #captain price #captain john price #price headcanons #headcanons

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studynxiety · 8 months

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06/09/2023

Lately, I have been tired. I am not sure if it's burnout, a random depressive episode or executive dysfunction. All I know is I haven't been really doing as much as I could be. I didn't want to admit it since I was still doing enough to get 80% on most tests and things could be worse.

Looking back, however, I haven't really done much that enjoy lately. I don't remember the last time I turned on some good music and wrote away, burning the midnight candle for something that made me alive. And there has been this constant knot of anxiety at the bottom of my stomach. So, things haven't been vibrant but things aren't exactly bad. It's like waking up on the wrong side of the bad; nothing's horrible but everything's off nonetheless.

All this is to say, I think I need to bounce back and I'm done being passive for this year. I've always been ambitious and I'm going to start pursuing things I want again. I woke up today feeling weirdly motivated so I've decided to start the 100 days of productivity challenge!

Things I hope to achieve from this challenge:

Become good enough in Physics that I can enjoy it again

Finish at least half of the CS50 course

Study for SATS

Make a complete compilation of which Unis to apply to

Finish at least two WIPs

Get better at French

Extra/Less-prioritized goals:

Get abs

learn to cook

Sketch/Draw more often

I think there will be two main obstacles in the way of me accomplishing these things. The first will be finding time. Most of the goals I've mentioned are things I have been putting off for more immediate concerns or just, generally, people needing me for things in the present that need to be dealt with but don't have much of an impact in the future.

The second problem is my undeniable internet addiction. Okay, I feel like internet addiction is too broad; my addiction to constantly consume some form of creative media, be it in the form of books, movies, TV shows, anime, cartoon, comics, or fanfiction. I really need to cut down on that. I think this will be the most difficult part. I'll try cutting out serialized content and instead explore more indie books and movies again. They're usually less addictive but fulfilling in the same.

As always, I'll be ending this post with some talk about the most recent shows that I have been enjoying, which is kind of ironic given the previous paragraph is me just complaining about my inability to stay away from them. Lately, I have been into the ongoing Kdrama "My Lovely Liar." I think the chemistry between the main characters is great and the mystery is alluring. An 8/10 in my books.

Other than that, I've been watching "The Boys." Currently, in season three. It's one heck of a show and it's just so believable and feels like a mirror to reality. The corporate greed of pharmaceutical firms, the corruption among the people who have sworn to protect us, and how hard the world works ... only to maintain the status quo. I think it's very interesting and directly draws parallels to the real world. It's definitely a 10/10 for me. The world building, characters, humour; everything hits just right.

That's all for today. I'll do some chemistry, look over the CS50 course and fill out some forms for some official stuff today and kickstart the productivity challenge tomorrow. I'll try to be more active on tumblr during the 100 days as I need something to keep me accountable. Here is to hoping for better me's and better days and better outcomes.

#studyblr #online diary #spilled thoughts #student life #studyspo #study blog #productivity #study motivation #a level 2023 #the boys #self improvement #internet addiction #100 days of productivity

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velvet-sugarcookie · 1 year

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Izuku X Non-Binary reader comfort

Trigger warnings: self harm, anxiety attacks.

Themes: comfort, angst, fluff, adult deku x adult reader, sfw

🌸

You always thought that by now, you’d be a lot better off, mentally. You always find yourself being able to put on a smiling, happy face for the public whenever you’re out doing hero work. But at the end of the day, when you return home, you find yourself feeling empty, alone, misunderstood. Everyone else around you knows you for your happy, bubbly personality, and how friendly you are. But that isn’t you, is it? You know it’s not. It’s a facade you present when you try to protect yourself from others knowing who you really are, how hurt you really are.

One day, it all came crashing down onto you, faster than you could realize. Before you knew it, you were sitting on your bed, hiding your face in your hands, shameful of what you had just done to your body. You promised izuku you wouldn’t do this again, but you failed. You can only imagine how mad he’ll be when he gets home from work…

After a few hours, you head a click, then a door opening. You attempt to hide your depressed mood, and the lines now covering your thighs, but your mind is racing, thinking of all the horrible things that could happen. Would he be mad at you? Would he desert you? Would he look at you in disgust?

You begin to hyperventilate, hearing footsteps travel back and forth, outside the bedroom.

Izuku: Y/N, I’m hoooome! Did you miss me, sweetheart?

He would chuckle lightly, putting away his things.

Izuku: you’ll never believe who I ran into today, it was Aizawa! Can you believe that? I haven’t seen him in years! Funny thing is, he’s older but he looks like he’s finally catching up on his sleep!

Your breath quickened, causing you to tremble now. You gripped your hair and pulled on it, making your pain worse. You whispered to yourself, begging to calm down before he laid his eyes on you.

Silence…

Izuku: Y/n…? Is that you…?

You couldn’t hide it now… he heard your cries.

Izuku would carefully walk into the bedroom door, his eyes immediately widening at you.

Izuku: Y/n… sweetheart, what happened…?

Izuku would gently walk over to you, kneeling in front of you and holding your hands, listening as you told him your worries and troubles. His gaze would soften into a warm smile, as his rough hands gently caressed your cheek.

Izuku: Darling… I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with all of this… I’m not mad at you, I never would be. I want to be here with, and for you, because I love you. We all struggle with different things, and regardless of how intense or severe yours are, I’m here for you, all the way. Even when I’m busy, out doing hero work, if you need something, please, tell me. You know that I’ll be there.

Izuku would smile, pausing to think for a moment. He would wipe your tears and kiss your cheek, walking out for just a moment, and coming back in with some first aid supplies. He would scroll through his phone, turning on a playlist that you and him made. It’s filled with soft, loving music. He would set his phone down on your nightstand, beginning to gently and gracefully clean your wounds. He hums quietly and deeply as he does so, making sure that you’re okay during the process.

After a few moments, he would finish wrapping your wounds up in some bandages.

Izuku: there, all better my love. Do you feel alright?

Izuku would look up at you, and you respond in a nod, followed by a smile. Izuku’s face lights up, as he joins you on the bed, holding the tv remote.

Izuku: I’m happy to hear that sweetheart! Here, how about we spend the rest of the night together and watch a movie? Just you and me. I can go get snacks and we can just relax together. How does that sound?

You nod your head eagerly in excitement. Izuku would chuckle and smile.

Izuku: alright, I’ll go get the snacks!

Izuku would get up, before briefly stopping at the door to look back at you.

Izuku: And, thank you for telling me how you feel sweetheart. I know it’s not an easy thing, and I know that some people like to suffer in silence, because it’s all they’ve ever known. But I want you to know that it doesn’t have to be that way. I’m here for you, and I plan to keep it that way. I’m so proud of you for being here and fighting through life. I’m here to support you, every step of the way. I love you.

#deku x y/n #izuku midoryia x you #mha #my hero academy fanfiction #fanfiction #angst fanfic #mha angst #mha comfort #deku angst

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anne-bsd-bibliophile · 7 months

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The Hunchback of Notre Dame has been one of my favorite movies since I was a child. I still have the Quasimodo doll I carried around everywhere with me. Even though it is one of the darkest Disney movies, I've always loved the music, the story, and of course the main character Quasimodo.

As an adult I have had the opportunity to watch the live stage production of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. When adapting the script for the stage the plot was change to be more like the original novel by Victor Hugo. The silly songs the gargoyle characters sang were taken out, Frollo was made into a much more complex and interesting villain, and the ending is not as idealistic. When leaving the theater I heard plenty of comments that the play version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame isn't anywhere near as child friendly as the animated movie is.

I realized while watching the play that this story is like bookends for the most traumatic years of my life. When I first watched the animated movie I had no idea that there would be so many parallels between my relationship with my own father and the relationship Quasimodo has with Frollo. When I watched the stage play as an adult it was after my lifelong battle against my father was over, because my father had recently passed away due to health issues, and the play put a lot of what I had been through into a new perspective for me. The Hunchback of Notre Dame has always been a story I related to and revisited frequently, but it wasn't until I watched the live musical that I understood for the first time how horrible growing up with a narcissistic father truly is. And it made sense why no one believes that I've lived through what I have.

I'm not sure if what I've written here will make sense to anyone who is unfamiliar with The Hunchback of Notre Dame. If you haven't watched the Disney movie, seen the musical version, or read Notre Dame de Paris by Victor Hugo, the novel the movie and play are based on, then I would recommend reading or watching any of them. I've done my best to put my experience into words honestly and clearly, so I hope that it will make sense even if you are unfamiliar with the story of The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

I hope that by explaining how I relate to specific lines and songs from The Hunchback of Notre Dame musical that I can more easily explain what I've lived through. It's difficult to put into words what having a narcissistic parent is like and the trauma I live with because of it. The few times I've tried to explain it the other person thought I was exaggerating or making it up. When I was in counseling my therapist didn't realize the situation was as bad as I said it was until we had a few sessions with my father in the room. After that I was diagnosed with PTSD, severe depression, and severe anxiety. And the fact that I'm autistic makes everything that much more difficult for me to deal with and process, and it also made my father treat me that much worse. I'm not exaggerating when I say that my father treated me in a way that is very similar to how Frollo treated Quasimodo. I hope that by comparing my life with the play The Hunchback of Notre Dame I will be able to convey what I want to in a way that is more understandable to people who haven't lived it. And I don't have anyone who would listen to me talk about this in my personal life, so I hope it is okay for me to write out my thoughts here.

I also want to preface this by saying that I do not in any way think individuals with narcissistic personality disorder are monsters. Everyone is capable of being cruel and we all make mistakes. But in my experience people use personality disorders as a way to excuse abusive behavior. Abuse is still abuse, no matter who does it. People in the past have liked to tell me that I am also responsible the poor relationship between me and my father, and many of my family and friends have accused me of causing it. It took me years to figure out that as a child I didn't do anything to cause my father to be emotionally abusive to me. Yes, I'm not perfect and I could have responded better in a lot of ways, but I was also a child figuring out how to protect myself and understand why my dad was treating me the way he did. As a teenager when I was fighting back and trying to distance myself from him I was told constantly that I had to "love him through it" as if it was my responsibility as the child to accept and love my father even though he was emotionally abusing me constantly. So while I'm not in any way saying that individuals with narcissistic personality disorder are terrible people, I also want to convey what I experienced as honestly as I can. I am only talking about my experience with my own father, nothing more.

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The Bells of Notre Dame (at 5:44)

Frollo: Oh Lord, you have sent me a test. This child is my cross to bear. ... See this loathsome creature from whom lesser men would flee, I will keep and care for him and teach him at my knee to think like me.

Sam Vaknin, a professor of psychology who has done a lot of work on narcissistic personality disorder, described narcissism as a religion in which the narcissistic individual is both the god and the sole worshiper. In my mom's words, my narcissistic father always had to be the smartest person in the room. He didn't think that anyone else was smart enough, talented enough, or good enough on their own and that everyone needed him to guide them down the right path. And because I grew up in a religious family that belonged to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints (or the LDS church), I was taught my entire life that my father is the patriarch of the family, that he received revelation from God for the good of the family, and that I needed to honor and obey my father because that's what God wanted me to do. In a literal sense, I grew up believing that if I disobeyed my father I was sinning and that idea was heavily reinforced at home and at church, where my father held a variety of leadership positions throughout his life.

Frollo's line, "See this loathsome creature from whom lesser men would flee, I will keep and care for him and teach him at my knee to think like me," gives me chills every time I hear it. This is exactly how my father thought of me. He told me constantly how weird I was and that I had to listen to and obey everything he said or else no one would love me. He viewed me being autistic as being a mentally deformed monster and it was his job as my father to fix me and make me normal. Normal meaning to think and act exactly how he wanted me to. And because my father thought of himself as being on the same level as God he also believed it was okay to punish me when I disobeyed.

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Out There (at 0:47)

Frollo: You are deformed and you are ugly. And these are crimes for which the world shows little pity. You do not comprehend. Out there they'll revile you as a monster. Out there they will hate and scorn and jeer. ... be faithful to me, grateful to me. Do as I say. Obey, and stay in here.

I've always been hyperaware of rules and I do everything I can to follow them. I was also aware from a young age that my father's love was conditional, so I tried desperately to do what he asked. What child doesn't want their father to love them? Of course I wanted to be a good daughter. Of course I thought my father loved me and wanted what was best for me. In that sense I was very much like Quasimodo. I didn't know any different so I wasn't aware that what my father asked me to do was very controlling and selfish on his part. I didn't know that he was essentially brainwashing me to think my father was on a pedestal while I was a monster who needed his guidance in order to find salvation. I was told constantly that if I talked about my interests I wouldn't have any friends, if I told my sisters to follow the rules that I was being tyrannical and mean, if I didn't have milk on my cereal then I wasn't normal and everyone would think I was weird, if I didn't do everything my father said then I was an ungrateful child.

Even though my father is dead, I still have his voice essentially programmed into my subconscious. He is still there telling me how unlovable I am, that I'm incapable of loving others, I'm selfish, ungrateful, annoying, weird, etc. My first instinct is to blame myself for anything that goes wrong because that's what my father would do. And he had convinced everyone in the family, at church, and in the community that I was all those things. He was a religious leader and he acted the part of the perfect father for everyone else. None of them knew how emotionally abusive he was at home. And if my sisters would agree with him then he would reward them generously, so they went along with everything he said. My sisters' friends all thought I was mentally unstable, angry, and hateful. But in reality the people who knew me but didn't know my father thought I was kind, intelligent, patient, loving, and that I was too hard on myself. My mom and counselors have reassured me that I'm the opposite of what my father said I was.

I didn't realize until I was an adult that the reason people viewed me as weird and selfish wasn't because of who I was or what I did, but because my father convinced everyone that was what I was. My father was the one who saw me as a monster. Just like how in The Hunchback of Notre Dame the character Frollo raises Quasimodo to believe that he is deformed, ugly, and that he needs Frollo to teach him and protect him. I believed for most of my life that my father was right, I was weird and unlovable, and that I had to be better in order to deserve love and kindness. The difference between my life and Quasimodo's is that my father didn't want to hide me away. My father wanted me to do and say things that made him look good. He wanted to be able to brag to others about all the good things I did in public while telling me I still wasn't doing good enough in private. I had to act the part of his perfect daughter everywhere I went. I wasn't allowed to be myself because I wasn't good enough in his eyes.

My relationship with my father changed drastically when we were in public. When other people could see us my father would compliment me, smile, joke, buy me things, brag about me, etc. But at home he wouldn't listen to a word I said, blamed me for everything, never said a kind word about me that wasn't a backhanded compliment, punished me severely for the most insignificant things, etc. Here are just a few examples:

I told my father the same thing about my day five times while he was "listening" to me and playing a video game at the same time but he didn't notice, which proved he wasn't listening at all.

My sister came home late from hanging out with her friends and my father got mad at me, saying that if I was a better older sister she wouldn't have rebelled and disobeyed him.

My sister and I got into a little fight over whose turn it was to do their hair in the bathroom we shared and my sister threw the blow-dryer at my head. I had to do my hair in my room from then on, and my father made me use my first paycheck from my first job to buy my sister a new blow-dryer, shampoo, conditioner, and anything else she said I had "ruined" by using (even though I had never used any of them).

I was banned from talking whenever my sisters were in the room. At family dinner I tried to ask my mom to pass something down the table to me and immediately my father and sisters got after me for talking. Later in counseling my father insisted he had to ban me from speaking because he had to "protect my sisters from being bored." Everything I had to say was viewed as boring and worthless, so he saw nothing wrong with silencing me completely.

When I got my drivers license it became my job to drive my sister to school. My sister was always late to everything, which made me late for class every day. I was an honors student, had a near perfect GPA, and I was proud of how well I did in school. But after my sister started making me late people thought I was slacking off and didn't view me the same way. When I threated to leave my sister if she wasn't ready on time one day my father yelled at me, told me I was a horrible example, accused me of being mentally unstable, and said he would take my keys away and make me ride the bus if I ever left without my sister. So until my sister was old enough to dive (two years later) I was late to school every day.

I hate drinking milk, and I didn't put milk on my cereal. My father thought that was unforgivable and forced me to sit at the table and eat a bowl of cereal with milk until every drop was gone because "it's not normal, and people would tease me" if I ate my cereal without milk. I have never eaten breakfast cereal again, and the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. I found out later that I'm lactose intolerant and that is why I didn't like milk.

I didn't make my father feel like I was grateful enough for him "allowing my mom to take me to lunch," so he threatened to never let me see my mom again. He admitted constantly that he was jealous that my mom and I were close and he did everything he could to keep my mom from spending time with me. He thought it was incredibly magnanimous of him to allow my mom to take me to lunch once a week. And when he would go on vacations with my mom, and they were on vacation roughly four months out of the year, he would be very angry when my mom and I would talk on the phone. My father thought my mom needed to pay attention to only him because they were married.

One year on my birthday, I went through a type of coming of age ceremony in the LDS church called an Endowment. It involves a lot of specific actions and procedures that you aren't allowed to talk about outside of an LDS temple, so everything was new to me. I get very nervous doing new things in front of people, one of my autistic traits, so I wanted to only have my mom with me when I did my Endowment. My bishop and therapist, who is also LDS, were very supportive. My father, however, was upset that I didn't want to have everyone in the family and people from church there. The week before my we had a counseling session with my therapist where he encouraged my father to be supportive and make the day what I wanted it to be since it was a big milestone in my life and it was my birthday. Instead, my father complained to the entire family that I was excluding him and told everyone how hurt he was by my selfishness. I have an hour long recording of one phone call where my father is berating my mother, saying that if she had forced me to do everything his way that the family wouldn't have been torn apart by me going through a religious ceremony. It has been five years since then and my extended family still has never talked to me since, not even at my father's funeral. This is also one of the big reasons why I am no longer a member of the LDS church.

Listing these things out makes me scared that people will think I'm too sensitive and that I'm overreacting. Nothing in this list seems bad enough on its own to cause the kind of trauma response I experience while thinking about them. But whenever I was with my father these kinds of things would happen constantly. The only break I got was when my father was out of the house. I had a wonderful childhood until I was about eight years old, and I wondered for years about what I did wrong to make my father treat me so much worse after that. But I realized that I didn't change, the situation did. When I was really little my father was so busy making a name for himself at work, at church, and in the community that he was rarely ever home. That is why there were no problems and I wasn't a "bad daughter" until I was eight and my father started to spend more time at home. From then on I lived with constant emotional abuse from my father, and that is why I have PTSD now.

When learning more about narcissistic abuse I came across a video by Sam Vaknin that where he explains: "The narcissist wants you dead. He wants you dead because he is already dead. ... The narcissist wants you to join him there, and to do that he needs to kill you. I'm sorry to break the news to you. He needs to break your spirit. He needs to destroy what some of you call the 'soul.'" What makes me who I am, or my 'true self' if you want to call it that, was something my father viewed to be wrong and threatening. Everything that made me who I am and not who my father thought I should be, and he wanted me to be another version of himself, my father did everything he could to destroy. That's why I have been diagnosed with PTSD; I spent most of my life fighting a war against my father and everyone he brought to his side. I was fighting to preserve myself. I was fighting to be an individual and to be recognized for who I really am and not all the lies my father spread about me. I grew up thinking that emotional abuse was normal. Emotional extortion and manipulation were constantly part of my life.

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Heaven's Light (at 0:43)

Quasimodo: I knew I'd never know that warm and loving glow, though I might wish with all my might. No face as hideous as my face was ever meant for heaven's light.

This song always makes me cry. I was envious of Quasimodo the first time I heard this song live. By the time I was an adult I didn't hope that anyone could love me anymore. I still feel like I'm too weird for anyone to love me. Who would want someone who is autistic, has PTSD, is depressed, and has severe social anxiety? If I wasn't the monster my father thought I was then he'd turned me into a different kind of monster. I wish I could be as hopeful as Quasimodo and be able to hope that someone I admired could love me back in some way. I remind myself all the time that I'm not really that hopeless, that there are a few people who care about me. But it takes a lot for me to believe that someone thinks I'm a good person or would want to listen to and spend time with me.

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Hellfire (0:50)

Frollo: Beata Maria, you know I am a righteous man. Of my virtue, I am justly proud ... Beata Maria, you know I'm so much purer than the common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd ...

Hellfire (2:00)

Frollo: It's not my fault. I'm not to blame. ... It's not my fault if in God's plan, he made the devil so much strong than the man. ... Now gypsy, it's your turn. Choose me or your pyre. Be mine or you will burn ...

Frollo makes it very clear that he thinks he is better than everyone else because of how righteous he is and his position as the Archdeacon. He considers his word to be the word of God, and if people do not listen to him then they are wicked and deserve to be punished. In Frollo's mind he can do nothing wrong, every action of his is justified, and because he thinks of himself as a spiritual giant if he can't resist temptation then that means no one can. This song is very dark, especially for a Disney movie or musical. If you didn't think Frollo was evil before you definitely would at this point in the story.

In the LDS church they teach that before we were born we lived in with God, and in God's plan he needed someone to be a savior to the world and atone for everyone's sins. Satan wanted to force everyone to do what is right so there would be no sin, but Jesus Christ volunteered to atone for everyone's sins so we could repent and be saved. Satan's plan would have taken away our agency to choose for ourselves and learn from our mistakes, which is seen as evil in the LDS church. Taking away someone's right to choose for themselves would be what the devils wants, not what God wants.

Now this is where it becomes obvious how hypocritical my father could be. He prided himself on his church callings, being a priesthood holder, and loving his religion. But at the same time he insisted that he, as the patriarch of the family, knew what was best and we all had to do everything he said and accept what he said without question. Essentially, he was so controlling he wanted to take away any choices we had to make, from major life decisions to something as simple as whether or not I wanted to have cereal with or without milk. When I told my mom that I thought my father's controlling tendencies were following Satan's plan she confided in me that she had thought the same thing for years, but she didn't want to say anything and make us children think poorly of our father.

My father would also never admit to being wrong. He could be caught red handed and still insist that he didn't do it. One of his favorite phrases was, "It wasn't my intention to do that." He thought that if he claimed to have good intentions that he wasn't responsible for the results if they were bad. Even when he did something as obviously abusive as banning me from talking, to his dying day he never once thought that was wrong. And in counseling when it was brought up that his actions had caused me to be scare to talk about myself and open up to other my father acted like it was better if I was scared to talk. If the result was what he wanted he saw nothing wrong with it, and if I went against him by talking about my interests with anyone then I deserved to be punished. And the punishments were always severe. Just for talking when my father thought I should have been silent he tried to take away my phone, my car, keep me from going to extra curricular activities, and when I was an adult and he couldn't hold those things over my head anymore he would threaten to never let me see my mom. Luckily my mom was better at establishing and enforcing healthy boundaries, because she stood up for me and wouldn't let my father keep her from doing what she needed to as my mother.

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Made of Stone (at 2:55)

Quasimodo: And now I'm on my own, never again to wonder what's 'out there.' Let me remain unknown and my one human eye will evermore be dry until the day I die, as if I were made of stone!

This song is a new addition to the musical, so people who are only familiar with the animated movie will not be familiar with it. If I had heard this song as a child I would have been too innocent and inexperienced to relate to Quasimodo. After being pushed so far and living through hell long enough you lose hope. Feelings and hopes don't serve any purpose anymore other than to remind you of what you cannot have. When you are in the depths of despair and there is nothing you can do to climb out of the emotional pit you find yourself in, what other options are there than to become numb and unresponsive as if you were made of stone? As an adult sitting in the theater listening to this song for the first time, I related so much to how Quasimodo feels that it took everything I had to keep from bursting into tears. When I got home I cried for hours because I finally realized that the character I've loved for as long as I can remember is more like me than I ever wanted to admit.

There is a method that victims of narcissistic abuse use to protect themselves called "the grey rock method." Essentially, if you don't react then the narcissist doesn't have anything to react to either. By showing no emotional, avoiding eye contact (which is natural for me because of my autism), and giving short answers or no answer at all you don't give the other person any fuel for their fire. It is like you are made of stone. And eventually, after grey rocking for long enough, you do stop to feel emotion in those situations. For about the last five years that my father was alive, I had gotten to the point where either I felt absolutely nothing at all when he was around and acted like a statue whenever he was in the room, or I would be so angry and emotionally volatile that I didn't even recognize myself. Most people who know me are shocked that I can even get angry, and when I do get a little mad my coworkers think it's a little comical because it is so unlike me. But the last argument I had with my father it got so heated that I started to literally look for a giant rock to bash his head in with. I scared myself so badly at that point that I turned off my emotions completely, walked away, and never spoke to my father again.

You can't change a narcissist. There is no cure for narcissistic personality disorder. And while I know that my father was sick and had no control over how his brain worked, similar to how I can't cure autism in myself, interacting with my father in a healthy was was too difficult for me to achieve. While in counseling, it became clear that my role as a child made it practically impossible for me to set healthy boundaries with my father. He never listened to me or considered anything that came from me to be valid or important. He blamed me for everything, no matter how little sense it made to do so. He wouldn't even pretend for the counselor anymore that he wanted what was best for me. I realized he didn't care about me the moment he insisted that banning me from speaking for years was the right thing to do because he felt he had to protect my sister from me saying something that might be boring to them.

In counseling I mourned the relationship I thought I had with my father. I realized he had never been capable of loving me from the beginning. The reason I have a hard time loving myself and knowing who I really am is because my father taught me that I was some kind of monster. So six months ago when my father died I didn't have anything left to mourn. When he died my biggest worry was that I would be too happy at his funeral. For me the lifelong war I had exhausted myself fighting was over. It was a war no one could win and everyone involved was a casualty of. All I could hope to achieve was to not let my father destroy who I am. I don't think I succeeded completely, but now that he is dead I have been able to start recovering from the abuse he put me and my family through. Life has been so much better without him.

Like I mentioned before, I still have my father's voice in my head telling me horrible things about myself over and over. Now that my father is gone there is no one here to tell me it is wrong for me to be myself, which is much more freeing than I anticipated it would be. I'm learning more about parenting my inner child. I'm studying Taoism and learning about how to live in a calmer way and how to discover and accept my true self. I'm no longer part of the religion I grew up in that I've realized encouraged the narcissistic abuse (I realize that wasn't the LDS Church's intention, but that doesn't change the fact that the religious culture gave my father justification for abusing his family).

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Finale (From 12:48-13:42)

But here is a riddle to guess if you can sing the bells of Notre Dame: What makes a monster and what makes a man?

This is a riddle I'm still trying to solve in my own life. By the end of the musical it should be obvious that the seemingly righteous Frollo was the true monster all along and that Quasimodo who looked deformed on the outside was far more compassionate and admirable than Frollo ever was. I wish my life was as easy to understand as that. But people are more complex than even stories and classic literature like Notre Dame de Paris by Victor Hugo makes them out to be. I can't simply classify my father as a villain and myself as the hero. I don't want to be stuck in a victim mentality anyway because it wouldn't help me.

Luckily for me, my story didn't end the way the musical version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame did. Instead of being killed like Frollo in the play, thrown by Quasimodo from the top of Notre Dame, my father died from health issues. In the play, Quasimodo watched Esmerelda die and hides with her body. Years later his skeleton is found embracing Esmeralda's skeleton. In my story me and my mom survived and we have the chance to start over and be who we want to be for the rest of our lives.

I would never say that my father was a complete monster, but he definitely felt like the villain in my life. Him suffering from Narcissistic Personality Disorder does not excuse him abusing others. Narcissism is difficult to understand. I spent most of my life wondering why my father thought the way he did and felt like he was doing everything right when what he was doing was abusive. The more I learned about narcissism the more I realized my mind won't be able to go to the same place my father's did. I will never truly understand him. But I need to understand enough that I can know what is and isn't my own fault. I have a playlist of videos on YouTube with experts on narcissism and narcissistic abuse explaining narcissism and what it is like for victims of narcissistic abuse. I put the playlist together because I don't think people will believe me when I tell them what I am dealing with and what I've lived through. I wanted to have sources from professionals and experts that are easy to understand and access. I wanted to share the link to the playlist in case it is interesting to anyone or if it can be helpful.

My mom made all the difference for my situation. Without her I would have lost myself from the start. She accepted me, my father, and my siblings for who we are and did her best to support and protect every member of the family. My mom is my best friend and the one person I know will always care and do what is best for me. And through the toughest years of my life I was fortunate enough to have a friend here on Tumblr who has helped me more than I can say. Then when my father was dying and I was dealing with emotions, supporting my mom as she was taking care of a dying husband, and coping with everything another online friend reached out and has been here to check on me and help me through it all. At various points in my life I have been able to find the support and kindness I needed to get through. I feel very lucky to have had those people in my life.

I have the rest of my life to figure out "what makes a monster and what makes a man?" The Hunchback of Notre Dame presented that riddle to me as a child in a movie theater and I was still trying to figure out the answers as an adult sitting in a theater watching the musical version of the movie I grew up with. Honestly, I don't think there is one perfect answer to "what makes a monster and what makes a man?" People are too complex for there to be a simple answer, and we are constantly changing. I'm sure I will constantly be learning and finding new perspectives throughout my life that will change what I think the riddle's answer is. I do know for sure that never want to make anyone go through what I experienced because of my father. I don't want to make anyone else feel that they are unloved, unwanted, and monstrous. What I want is to be aware of who I am as a person, how I influence the world around me, and be as compassionate, kind, understanding, and accepting as I can be.

#coping with narcissistic abuse #the hunchback of notre dame #Youtube

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evanpitars · 7 months

Note

Hi! Saw the ships post, decided I'd give it a go.

I am straight, but supporting and go by she/her, maybe she/they, 16 year old, junior and taking cosmetology college classes, female standing at 5'7 and I have hazel eyes, really extremely light freckles only on the bridge of my nose, full lips, and an diamond/oval shaped face. I have a resting depressed face, and to some people sometimes I give off a "bad attitude/attitude problem". Usually to guys (from what I have been told) I am cute, or some have said I'm hot. I had my ears pierced but the holes are closed up, so I wear clip on earrings. I have a somewhat hourglass, on the smaller side body, I have been told my wrists and ankles are very small, small boobs, smaller butt, and I'm toned and I have long legs and thighs on the thicker side. I'd say I'm around 130 lbs. I have dirty blonde thick hair that rests on my breasts (couldn't think of a less awkward but as detailed as possible description), I have long outgrown curtain bangs and outgrown layers. My style is unique; I love layering skirts and dresses and sweaters and I love beanies and hats, and I always like to wear my black converse with granny-patterned-type socks. And it tends to be darker colors of clothing that I like. I love necklaces, rings and bracelets. My perfume is Pink Cashmere. I am an Aries and into astrology and crystals and spirituality, the paranormal and Christianity. I also vape. I'm kind of a chill person, but I can be loud/expressive at times. People rub off on me easily, for example, I tend to say things I've heard other people say, if I'm around them enough, for example my classmate says "period slay" and I started to say it. I tend to be the big sister of the friend group and the friend that has everything and ready for any situation type friend. I also make suxcxdal jokes. I like to draw when I have the motivation to. I love music, like can't go a day without listening to it, and I usually go for a walk for about 30 mins a day listening to music and sometimes at college I walk around the campus with one earbud in if I don't have anyone to talk to. I can play a *little* piano, but all I can play is fucking Old Macdonald. My last resort on Netflix to watch is true crime docs, I did have a Jeffrey Dahmer phase, I was extremely interested in his case, I did find him a bit attractive too, but disclaimer, I am NOT glorifying/praising him. He's a horrible person that happens to be a bit attractive. I also am a horror movie fanatic, my favorites have to be the Conjuring movies and the Insidious movies. And, of course, I love AHS. I think I might have ADHD, I get told that sometimes. I do have anxiety as well. I am mentally slow sometimes, and I struggle with focusing at times. Oh also I am a psychic and I can see spirits. I am extremely clingy, and I have mommy and daddy issues. I am very, very, very hxrny, I hate to admit it, I always make dirty jokes if I'm comfortable with someone. I love my guys emo/grunge, doesn't give a shit type mentality, clingy, touchy, possessive, protective, knows his manners, tall, mentally unstable, scraggly looking, veiny hands, big hands, and, yes of course, hxrny.

That would be me:)

Also thank you if you read my literal book.

Hello my angel! How are you?

Thank you for sending! You are very beautiful and I find you a interesting person. If you want to chat, then lets go hahaha

So at first I thought about Jimmy Darling, because of your personality, but then, when you talked about what you want in a guy everything made sense .

YOUR LOVE STORY WOULD BE WITH.... ‼️

* drum sound * 🥁🥁🥁

KAI ANDERSON

There's no need to mention your physical appearance, because you're perfect and he would love you anyway. I feel like he would love your unique style and since he thinks he is God himself, he would easily become interested in spirituality. You would talk about the meaning of crystals and, although he was sometimes reluctant when it came to the subject, he would listen carefully and make observations. The only thing he would probably joke about was the signs hahaha. If you asked him to make an astral chart, he would laugh in your face, but in a funny way hahaha .

As you are horny, you like possessive, mentally unstable boys, Kai would be the perfect man for you. He wouldn't let anyone touch you without you giving permission. He would always be analyzing his surroundings and worried about you and your day, just to protect you. If you make jokes about suicide, that would be another reason to justify this choice. I see you both laughing about a serious topic, but for some reason you found it funny. Oh another thing, idk your sexual preferences, but good lord, that man would be horny 24/7 he makes very clear in the season Cult that he likes puśsÿ and with you wouldn't be an exception. His big and veiny would grab your wrist and he would tease you endlessly, until he drove you crazy. Hands on the waist, on the back of the head, on the thighs, on the groin, on the neck and in the hair. Also he would use your psychic habilities to his crimes and watch criminal doc with, just for fun or to improve his plans.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING MY LOVE ❤️

#ahs coven #ahs fandom #american horror story #kyle spencer #ahs cult #ahs hotel #ahs murder house #evan peters #kai anderson #james march #tate langdon #shipping #matchups #violet harmon

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eddievanhammettmunson · 2 years

Text

I Heard.

Vampire Eddie Munsonx Female reader

Authors note-Hiiiiii everyone welcome back. I’m here with a new fic. It is 18+ so minors DNI I will block ❤️. 16.3k words.

Warnings- 18+!!!!! Smut at the end ❤️, drug mention like once?, mention of blood and death, foul language, weapons, I’m pretty sure that’s it I think.

Summary- so I thought of the idea for this fic when I rewatched the season 2 finale and got to see the reunion between Eleven and Mike and I actually think their reunion is kinda cute so this is just me making a stranger things season 5 surrounding that plot but with the reader and Eddie.

“GOODNIGHT GUYS!!!! Thanks for the ride Steve!” Waving at the car as you watched Steve pull out of your driveway, off to take Dustin, Mike and Lucas home.

You walked inside and sat down on the side of your bed and sighed. It’d been almost a year since you guys lost Eddie in the upside down. But going home every night and knowing you won’t be able to see him when you wake up the next day still stings.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the depression easing its way in for the night you decide to put on some pajamas and eat some food. Getting comfy on your bed you decide to put on a movie and try to ease your troubles.

After finishing the first movie you decide to get a little high and put on Back to the Future. You’d meant to see it when it came out in theatres but you never found the time. And Robin was telling you the other day at family video that it’s a great movie to watch when you’re high.

No matter what you do though your mind falls back to Eddie and how much you miss him. You hadn’t been able to know him for long. Only joining his hellfire club the week all that horrible shit started. But during the time you did get to know him you guys formed a bond. At the time you didn’t call it love because you thought it would be crazy if you fell in love with a guy that quickly? Now you know what you felt was love. You only wish it didn’t take losing him to realize that.

You sigh and stop the movie. Flicking on your light you decide to step out for a moment so you don’t disturb your sister Max. Grabbing the walkie talkie from your night stand you quietly head out of the house and make it to the bench nearby.

Living in this trailer park after everything that happened was hard. Knowing Eddie used to live here and seeing his uncle Wayne all the time made it harder. Knowing that if he’d just climbed that damn rope with you and Dustin that he would have made it. Dustin always blamed himself for not being able to get Eddie’s body back through the gate at least. You also felt guilty about it. You had wanted to and you guys tried but with Max dying and being brought back to life you both had to rush back through the gate because everything started splitting open and you weren’t sure what to do.

When you made it back to the trailer and Eleven brought Max back all the gates closed and you guys weren’t able to reach Eddie’s body anymore. It devastated you two. Dustin had found some solace in being the new leader of the hellfire club and heeding Eddie’s words by watching the others.

You struggled more in terms of finding any solace. In Eddie’s final moments with you and Dustin, Eddie took the time to tell you he loved you and you were about to say it back but he was already gone. Dustin is the only one who knew how you and Eddie felt and Dustin was the only one who was with you as you sobbed Eddie’s name as you told him you loved him back knowing he couldn’t hear you.

Dustin may have been the only one to officially hear it and know it for sure. But the others could see it. And they could definitely see how much you were hurting everyday without him now. That’s why Mike gave you the idea to use the walkie talkie and let your feelings out. Mike had told you that at one point when he didn’t know eleven was alive, he would just go to an empty channel on the walkie talkie and talk to her. And sometimes it made him feel better.

So that’s what you started doing. Everyday since Mike told you that, you come outside at night, turn the walkie talkie onto the same blank channel and just talk.

“I almost didn’t do this tonight. Steve convinced me to come out with the kids at the park. It was nice. Max had fun spending time with Lucas. I’m glad Max is getting better. She can finally walk again, not very well but she’s getting there. And she’s especially getting good at using that cane to be aware of her surroundings. Lucas even started learning braille so he could coax her into learning braille. I think I’ll join him on that. Anyways as much fun as it was I still can’t help but feel sad everytime I come home. I miss you a lot. We all do. Dustin has this great campaign going right now and I can’t wait for the next session. But it’ll never be the same without you Ed’s”

You sit there for a minute listening to the crackle of the radio. You go to turn it off when the crackling gets louder and louder. You figure it must be bugging out or catching some interference and you’re just about to switch it off when all you hear in the faintest whisper is “y/n?”.

You stayed out there on that bench into the early hours of the morning with that radio on trying to hear the voice again. Trying to get any sort of response. You don’t.

You repeat that every night for days. Barely sleeping. Just every once in a while when you’re lucky you capture the faintest noises and words. It gets to the point where you know you can’t take this anymore. Either you’re going crazy or someone else is on the line.

Either way you have to know.

You step out of the car and make your way towards the cabin and knock on the door. You’re expecting Hopper or Joyce to answer the door. Just hoping it won’t be will or johnathan but of course it’s Will. Who thinks you’re there to see him.

“Sorry Will but I actually need to talk to Eleven. Is she here?”

“Oh. She’s in her room on the phone with Mike probably”

After you thank him and promise him you’ll hangout with him later you run to Eleven’s room and begin to bang on the door.

“SERIOUSLY WILL? YOU CAN TALK TO MIKE LATER”

“Eleven? It’s y/n”

The door swings open and eleven is sitting on her bed. Phone still in hand, clearly confused to see you at her bedroom door. You and eleven obviously knew each other but you hadn’t interacted the most so it’s not like you two hung out regularly without the group.

Seeing the concerned look on your face Eleven asks Mike if she can call him back later to which he agrees, saying he had to go meet Dustin anyways.

“Is something wrong?” Eleven asks as you to step into the room and shut and lock the door behind you.

“This is going to sound crazy but I need your help”

Eleven doesn’t say anything but looks at you with intrigue so you continue.

“Do you remember our friend we told you about? The one from last year who we lost in the upside down? Eddie?”

Eleven nods her head yes.

“Well…..I don’t think he’s entirely gone. I keep hearing him over the walkie talkie at night….I was wondering if you could help me. I don’t even know if it’s real or not. But I need to know”

You hold out your walkie talkie to eleven and she holds it in her hands. Taking the walkie from you entirely, Eleven stands and turns on the radio in her room to a blank channel and she wraps a scarf around her eyes as a blind fold.

“Be very quiet. I will let you know what I find”

You wait a while. Unsure of how long this stuff normally takes for her. You begin to grow worried when you hear her gasp and start crying. Suddenly Eleven is screaming. Is she in trouble? Should you wake her?

You get up and run to Eleven's door and open it and scream for help.

Will, being the only other person home runs into the room.

“Y/n? What happened? What were you guys even doing?”

“I asked Eleven to help me find Eddie and I don’t know what’s happening. How do we wake her Will?”

As you two try to find ways to snap El out of it, she comes out of it herself. Ripping off the blind fold and gasping for air. You and Will quickly pull yourselves around her in a hug.

When you pull back all Eleven says is

“We have a problem”

Eleven didn’t tell you or Will what had happened. All she told you was that you guys had to contact everyone immediately and gather them. So you did. Will called Hopper and Joyce and Johnathan and told them to meet at Mike's house for an emergency. You got on the walkie and made sure to tell Mike what had happened and let him know to get Nancy and everyone would meet at their house. You told Dustin to get Steve and Robin and you made sure to tell Steve to go pick up Max from the trailer. Finally you radio’d Lucas telling him to get Erica and head over to Mike’s.

Once everyone had gathered in the basement. You began to explain what happened. How you had been calling Eddie and asked Eleven to look for him. Once you finished telling your story you all began to listen to Eleven. Upon hearing her words you could barely function.

“I spoke with your friend. Eddie”

“EDDIES ALIVE?!” Dustin screamed at Eleven. Which obviously scared her by the way she jumped back. It was clear by Dustin’s tone he wasn’t angry and didn’t mean to scare her. But with what she just said. You felt like screaming yourself.

“Not exactly.”

“What does not exactly mean?” Lucas questioned, obviously confused. If eleven could talk to spirits that was definitely something Mike had forgotten to mention.

“I do not know. He did not tell me what had happened to him. But I could tell when I saw him. He isn’t entirely human anymore”

“Well what did he say?” Those were the only words you spoke and they were so quiet the group almost didn’t hear you.

“Eddie gave me a warning. He told me that Vecna is not dead and he is coming. Eddie also said that he does not have a choice but to fight with Vecna. He is under his control. A part of his army now”

Hearing this was devastating. Not only was Eddie still out there but he was in the upside down being controlled by Vecna. You can’t help but begin to beat yourself up for not getting his body out of there when you had the chance. He shouldn’t be going through this. Your thoughts are broken when you hear Dustin laugh and say

“THIS IS GREAT” the entire room falls silent upon hearing this and Max turns towards Dustin’s voice.

“Dustin, how is anything Eleven just said great?”

Dustin scoffs, looking around confused and dumbfounded.

“Oh come on? Really? You guys this is our chance! We can get Eddie back!”

You stand and look towards Dustin. Disheartened and devastated you begin to say through hurt words

“Dustin…. I want him back more than anything but look at us? Look at what happened last time? Hawkins nearly got blown off the map, Max died and is still recovering, we lost Eddie, and didn’t even defeat Vecna…I hate to say it Dustin but do we even stand a chance?”

Instead of Dustin answering like you can see he wants to. Suddenly Eleven is standing in front of the group and looking at you.

“I can do it this time. I won’t let him win. Not again. I promised your friend we would get him out and we will. I am promising this to you too”

Upon hearing this it makes you hopeful but you can’t help but join in with Hopper on his protest. As much as you want Eddie back you don’t want anybody to get hurt. But at the same time you know this may not be an option.

As you and hopper begin to protest, Eleven holds up her hand and begins to speak more

“It’s our only option. Eddie told me we only have days to prepare for what’s coming. He said he’s been trying to warn us for awhile now but he hadn’t been able to get anyone to hear him until y/n did. This is our only option”.

Everyone sits in the basement and tries to think of a plan for hours. But everything proves pointless when you all have no idea how to get to the upside down. All the gates are closed and Eleven would have to open a gate which would take a lot of power. A lot of power she needs to fight Vecna.

Towards the late hours of the night while everyone is still talking, you decide to grab your walkie talkie and slip outside. Now that you know Eddie actually heard you at least once you’re hoping he could hear you again.

“Hi Eddie…..I don’t actually know if you’re here or if you can hear me but we’re gonna try and get you….I hope you can hear me Eddie. We’re going to save you. I promise” you sit there for a while and then turn off the walkie. You decide to sit outside a little while longer. All this stress must have been giving you migraines lately, maybe it was the lack of sleep, cause your head was pounding again.

Finally the pain subsides and you begin to head inside. As you’re walking back towards the Wheeler’s basement you hear the chime of a clock. It’s loud and it’s coming from upstairs.

You follow the chime up the stairs and when you reach the second floor you’re no longer at the Wheeler’s. You’re in your childhood home in california.

“Y/N!!!!!!!”

“Dad?! What? What’s going on? What’s happening?”

You can hear your father beating on your bedroom door. Then his voice morphs into Billy’s.

“YOU LET ME DIE YOU BITCH! YOU HELD MAX BACK AND YOU BOTH LET ME DIE”

You knew what this was now. Max had told you every detail of what she went through. Vecna was in your head. He was trying to get you. You look around your childhood room and run towards your window and break it open climbing out and running. You hear the voice of Vecna

“You can’t run from me y/n Hargrove”

But you do run. You’re not sure where you’re running to. It’s been years since you’ve been to california and especially since you’d seen this house. But you remember a certain store. A store your mom took you to once. Before she left you and Billy. You run to the store as fast as you can. Upon reaching the door you open it, and run inside.

As your body is standing just outside the Wheeler’s front door surrounded by pretty much everyone. Nancy has her hands on your arms. She’d been shaking you for a moment, attempting to wake you, when you suddenly woke up gasping.

“Y/n? Are you okay? What happened?” Nancy is hugging you now.

With a shaky voice and tears you tell them it was Vecna. They take you back inside and they tell you that Max had asked Nancy to come look for you because she was worried that she hadn’t heard you in awhile and Nancy found you standing just outside the wheelers front door in some sort of trance. You told them what had happened.

Everyone in the room felt sorry for you and nobody quite knew what to say. They all wanted to ask the same question. But everyone was almost certain they didn’t want to know the answer. Are you under Vecna's curse? Is this Vecna's plan? To do the same thing he did last year and now you only have a day to live?

Mostly nobody wanted to address it not only for your sake, but for Max’s. After what she went through last year this is going to be hard on her. They can tell now that she’s trying so hard not to panic and Lucas is great at comforting her but you’re sisters. After losing Billy and your dad leaving you guys, moving to that trailer park, and now being blind and in recovery still. She can’t lose you too.

Like some twist of fate there’s a knock at the basement door and Robin comes running in.

“Guys you need to come upstairs to the tv right now”

“Robin seriously were kind of in the middle of something?” Steve asks, obviously confused and missing the panic in Robin's voice.

“Steve I’m serious the tv now everyone someone in the street and and the news reporters it’s bad you guys like really bad we need to” at this point everyone has cut Robin off and ran up to watch the new report.

“LOCAL TEEN FOUND DEAD IN LAUNDROMAT”

The details the reporter gave were eerily familiar. It’s not everyday someone is found without their eyes and every bone is broken. They had been found early in the day. You weren’t Vecna's first victim this time around. He already had 1 body. You guys are losing more time.

You knew you were losing time but you couldn’t think of anything. Everything that was happening you couldn’t process. Eddie was out there, Vecna was in your head, you may only have a day to live, Where do you even start? How can you even start? You’re feeling faint and you begin to lean against the wall. But the saving grace of the group chirps in.

“We need to get to that laundromat. Hopper, do you think there’s any way you could get us in there?” The best babysitter in the world asks as he stands in front of everyone hands on his hips ready to get out there.

Hopper had decided to retire once he came back to Hawkins since he wasn’t going to make Powell give up being chief. Now Hopper spent more time at home and doing security jobs but Hopper says he’ll get you guys in there. He does.

He takes Steve and they scope out the Laundry mat. They radio back to you guys from Hoppers truck. The minute Hopper and Harrington confirm there’s a gate in the laundry mat you guys begin to formulate a plan of attack.

Joyce and Hopper gathered their team of kids they would take and prepare with them to go get Vecna. Eleven, Joyce, Hopper, Jonathan, Will, Mike, and Nancy were going to split into 2 teams and go after Vecna's body and Vecna's mind. You, Steve, Robin,Dustin, Lucas, Max and Erica had a different mission. You were going to find Eddie. Eleven had told you that although Eddie is under Vecnas control, Eddie isn’t with Vecna but he’s off on his own preparing for the battle.

Nancy had mentioned to the group about going to the war zone again to prepare and everyone agreed. The first group packed into Hopper's truck and the second group crowded into Steve’s car and you all headed off towards the war zone.

A while into the drive Steve made Dustin radio to Hopper and tell them that you guys would meet them at the war zone because you guys needed to make a stop.

“We don’t have time for stops Steve? What are we doing here?”

You were very confused to see Steve pulling into a music store.

“We’re getting you and Max new walkmans and we’re buying you each a copy of your favorite songs and you two are going to wear those walkmans until the second all this crap is over”

Steve wasn’t asking you any of this. He was telling you this and he walked into the store already heading towards Kate Bush for Max.

You headed over to the rock and roll section. It took you a minute but luckily they had just the song you needed. At least you hoped it was the song you needed.

While sitting in the car heading towards the war zone you look over at Max who’s sitting next to you looking very nervous. You reach over and give her hand a tight squeeze. Trying to give her some sense of reassurance but you can tell by the shaky squeeze she returns, that it doesn’t work very well.

When you get to the war zone Lucas offers to stay in the car with Max so you can go in and help shop for supplies. You find yourself standing in front of a line of machetes just staring at them intensely for a moment before you feel a tap on your shoulder. You jump and turn around to find Dustin standing behind you. Taking off your headphones you decide to speak to him.

“Sorry Dustin, I was a bit lost in thought there”

“Yeah I could tell….how ya holdin up?”

You scoff and laugh a little bit.

“Honestly Henderson? I’ve had better days”

You turn back and grab a machete and throw it into the cart and slowly walk forward with Dustin to look at more weapons.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah Dustin?”

“Are you sure coming into the upside down with us is the best thing? I mean maybe you should stay back in the laundry mat with Lucas and Max? I’m just saying since he’s already in your head maybe being in the upside down will just make it easier for him.”

You sigh and stop. Leaning on the cart, putting your head in your hands. You’re frustrated. Dustin has a point. But you have to go. You have to go get Eddie, you have to get him out of there, you have to at least try and see him. Especially if it’s your last day on earth you need to at least try.

“Honestly Dustin? I’m not sure at all that it’s the best thing. In fact no matter what I do it feels like it could be a death sentence. But I need to do this Dustin. I’m doing this.”

You could tell what you said had disappointed him a bit. He knew no matter what he said that you probably wouldn’t back down. But a part of him just hoped that you would. He already had to watch Eddie die in his arms last year and even though he might get him back he doesn’t want to watch you die. He doesn’t want to have to come back and tell Max he lost you in the upside down.

“Y/n? Why aren’t you listening to your music? That thing could be trying to get into your head as we speak. What if he’s already in your head just lurking? I’m probably not making you feel any better. I'm sorry but really why aren’t you listening to your music” Robin said as she approached rapidly with a few boxes of bullets in her hands. Robin's rapid fire concerns managed to pull a slight smile onto your face. Before you had the chance to respond the headphones were already placed back onto your ears by a mysterious pair of hands that appeared from behind you. You turn around to see Steve nonchalantly pressing play on your Walkman forcing the music to flood back into your ears.

You guys all head from the war zone to Hoppers cabin and begin the preparations for battle. You’re dawning racks of bullets across your body and explosives. Almost everyone in the house has weapons. Nobody is going into the upside down unprepared. Not this time.

You walk out onto the porch for a moment just to get some air. Small cabin with a lot of people and a lot of weapons.

You take a moment to inhale deeply taking in the fresh cool air of the woods when a voice appears from behind you. “Y/n?” You turn your head around slightly to see Eleven standing there. She looks determined. Almost angry. But softened upon speaking to you.

“Y/n I promised your friend he would be free. I feel I shouldn’t make promises I can’t keep. So I will make you this promise. I will do everything I can to save you. Vecna will not win. Not this time”

You nod and give a slight smile. Unsure of what to say. You’d like to believe she’ll save you and you’ll come back but you can’t let yourself be hopeful. Not today. Eleven heads back inside and her presence next to you is replaced by Max.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course Max. What do you want to talk about?”

“I’m scared. I’m so scared Y/n. I’m scared he’s gonna get you. I can’t lose you too. Please promise me you’ll come back. Please”

Hearing Max actually say it made it all so real. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe. You didn’t want to leave Max and you didn’t want to go through this. You couldn’t promise her you would come back because you’re so scared that you won’t. But you need hope. And you know she needs the hope to.

You swallow thickly and through a shaky voice and tears you force the words out of your throat.

“I promise Max. I’ll come back. I promise. You’ve gotta make me a promise though, okay?”

“Whatever you want.”

“When I come back you’re gonna read that entire book Lucas got you okay? The version of The Talisman he got you in braille?”

Max held out her pinky to you and you wrapped your pinky around hers. Securing your pinky promise. You and Max went back inside to finish the preparations with the others.

You take a moment to sit on the couch as you fill up some canisters with gasoline. You feel the couch shift next to you and before you can even register it Steve and Dustin are already helping you with the canisters. You take the opportunity between the three of you and ask the boys for a favor.

“You guys… I need you to do something for me”

“I mean y/n we’re already helping with the gas canisters and we got our own lists to take care of” Steve said poking a bit of fun. Obviously missing the stern look on your face until he turns towards you.

“Steve, Dustin, I’m serious….I need you guys to do this for me….incase I don’t make it back”

Steve and Dustin are both sitting at full attention now. They’re both fighting the urge to tell you everything will work out. That everything will be fine. But after everything that’s happened they know that’s not what you need to hear.

You continue in a hushed tone making sure if anybody were to walk by that they wouldn’t hear you. “I need you guys to take care of Max. I don’t know what’s going to happen in there but I need you to promise me that no matter what you’ll watch Max. If I don’t make it back she’ll need you guys more than ever. And if things are going south don’t go out of your way to bring me back. Please. I don’t need any of you guys getting lost for me”

The two boys don’t say anything and Dustin looks close to tears. You grab one of each of their hands and squeeze tightly and you make eye contact with each of them.

“Promise. Me. Please” your tone is firm yet pleading.

Steve nods yes and runs his hands over his face and leaves his head in his hands. Dustin wipes a tear away and through quivering voices each boy swears to you.

Steve had to get up a moment later because Robin needed help loading a gun and when Steve even heard that Nancy had handed Robin a gun in the first place Steve was already off. You sat there with Dustin on the couch still holding his hand.

It killed you to ask him to make that promise but you had to. You knew after what you both went through with Eddie that you had to make Dustin promise to go and leave if it meant he lived. Because you knew if anything happened Dustin wouldn’t want to leave you there and not make the same mistake again but you can’t risk Dustin getting hurt.

“What are you going to say to him?”

Dustin’s words tore you out of your deep thought and you can’t help but be confused.

“What? Say to who?”

“To Eddie. What are you gonna say to him when we get him back”

Dustin forever the little optimist. You hadn’t thought about it really. I mean you never actually thought you’d be in this situation where you’d be able to see him again. What would you say?

“I don’t know actually….I haven’t let myself think about getting him back..it doesn’t feel real yet. What would you say?”

“I’m gonna tell him he’s not getting party leader back” you laugh at this and lean on Dustin for a moment. For that moment you let yourself be hopeful. You imagine what it would be like if you guys won the battle, if you got Eddie back, If you survived. And for the briefest moment you allow yourself to smile.

The group was pretty split when deciding if they should rest and try to save some energy before going to battle Vecna or just head out immediately and try to get it over with. You manage to convince the group that you’ll be okay and everyone can attempt to get some shut eye but you have a feeling they won’t.

However as you’re standing outside loading the last of the weapons into the back of Steve’s car before you head in for the night, you begin to feel a bit funny.

You turn towards Will who’s loading the last few weapons into Hopper's truck. Will can feel it too and he turns to look at you. Eyes wide Will begins to call for help and although you’re confused for a second as to why he’s calling for help, it doesn’t take long for you to feel the blood running down your face from your nose. A lot of it. You’re wearing your Walkman and listening to your music so he can’t get into your head right? Right?

You look up towards the cabin for a moment to see a crowd of people running towards you and that’s the last thing you see as your body heads towards the pavement.

Everything is quiet for a moment before you hear heavy breathing. Vecna's breathing. You can still hear the music blaring in your ears but then the flashing images start. There’s the cliff above Hawkins, images of a girl from your highschool, the flashing images of her bones breaking one by one. Suddenly the images change and there's a giant monster towering over Hawkins, you recognize it from Will's drawings, the images change again. This time a taunting laugh comes with them as the images change to Eddie dying in Dustin’s arms as you lean over him. The final image is of Eddie, but you’ve never seen Eddie like that. The images begin to repeat from the beginning and you begin to feel flashes of pain throughout your skull with every image.

Will could feel it before it happened. Not too long but enough to turn around and catch a glimpse of you before it went wrong. He saw the blood pouring from your nose and immediately called out for help.

Mike and Eleven were the first ones to reach you but the entire gang was out there seconds later.

“WHAT DO WE DO? WHAT DO WE DO? I THOUGHT THE MUSIC WAS SUPPOSED TO STOP THIS” Mike was obviously in full on panic as your body began to shake as he and eleven held you.

“It is! It is supposed to work, that's the only thing Viktor Creel told us was able to help him!” Nancy was crying. She had no idea what to do with you.

“Guys! GUYS!” Steve was standing at the head of the group taking charge once again. He was visibly panicked too but still taking charge.

“This is different. He’s never attacked like this”

Steve’s shaking his head. He’s onto something but he just doesn’t know what.

“She’s not in the same trance as everyone else. It’s not even the same as her first trance. The victims never faint or get a nosebleed as they get possessed. Something different is happening this time”

Carefully Steve and Hopper picked you up from Mike and Elevens arms and they carried you inside as best they could despite your shaking body.

“What’s happening to her” the voice that rang through the room left everyone quiet. They didn’t want to tell Max that Vecna was already trying to get you again. But they couldn’t keep it from her.

“Max….it’s Vecna…he’s trying to get y/n again but somethings off” Lucas had expected Max to panic upon him saying this but she didn’t. She inhaled a sharp breath and reached out her hand.

“Take me to her” Lucas looked around the room for any objections and turned and took Max’s hand. Leading her over to your body on the couch.

Max sat down beside you and took your hands in her own. As soon as she did you stopped shaking. Max trailed her hands up to your face and around to where the headphones were resting on your ears. Her hand trailed further and followed the cord all the way down to the Walkman. As she reached for it she felt Dustin’s hand on top of hers in an attempt to stop her from whatever she was going to do. She didn’t know who’s hand it was trying to stop her, but it didn’t matter.

“Trust me”

Is all she said as she gently lifted Dustin’s hand off of her own and pressed pause on the song. She put her hands back onto your face and cupped your face. She began to sing. Not your favorite song but her own. In a quiet voice Max began singing, running up that hill to you.

Slowly everyone else joined in. It wasn’t dramatic or happy in the slightest despite how many people were singing it together.

It was small, it was desperate, it was hopeful.

You could hear them all. You heard Max above all and you fought to open your eyes.

You ignored the pain in your mind and focused on the voices. The images flashing across your mind were beginning to fade. You forced yourself to replace the images flashing in your mind with happy ones. Your mind fishes with images of Max and the first time you guys went skateboarding together. The times you and Max snuck out through the window as your parents were fighting.

Opening your eyes with a flash and sitting up straight gasping for air. Tears flood your eyes as you hug the closest person to you. Which happened to be Max. The room is silent except for the sobs the two of you let out as you hold each other.

After a few minutes of crying you pull away from Max but make sure to keep your arms intertwined as you turn to the rest of the group.

“We’re running out of time. We need to go now”

“Woah woah woah kid slow down we can’t just pick up and go right now, you just almost died. Give it a minute” Hopper was kneeling in front of you and Max by the couch. You know he means well but you don’t have time.

You look up at him and look around the room at everyone. Making sure you speak loudly enough to ensure your voice is loud enough for everyone to hear your next words.

“I’m sorry but we need to go now. Vecna just claimed his second victim”

Everyone looked around the room in shock. You looked at Will.

“You felt it. Didn’t you? You know I’m right Will”

Everyone looked at Will and all he did was nod his head yes. Nancy was the first one to ask you.

“Y/n what happened to you?”

“I don’t really know. He didn’t have me like he did before. I could hear him though. He showed me things. I saw Bethany R up on the cliffs near the lake. Vecna got her and he showed it to me” you were crying as you said this. It dawned on you that Vecna may have forced you to watch his next victim because he couldn’t get to you with your headphones on.

“He showed me the mindflayer, it was towering over Hawkins….he showed me Eddie…I’ve never seen him look like that before…he just kept showing me all that over and over again. It hurt” by now Max was hugging you tightly.

Your eyes found Nancy’s again and you could tell that was hard for her to hear. You figure it must have brought back some memories of what Vecna made her see last year. You can’t help but wonder if he showed you any of the same things.

Eleven turns and whispers something to Hopper. Causing Hopper, Eleven, and Joyce to leave the room. When they come back Hopper announces a new plan leaving Mike and Will angry.

“No, absolutely not! No! I’m not leaving Eleven to fight this alone!”

“She won’t be alone Mike” Hopper said, trying to calm Mike down but to no avail.

“It doesn’t matter if she won’t be alone, Mike and I aren’t leaving her!” Will was standing now and he looked angry. You’d never seen Will this angry.

“It’s not up to you guys.” Eleven took Will and Mike by the hand.

“I’m doing this on my own. You two would not be able to assist me. Your party needs you”

Hopper and Steve swapped keys and You, Steve, Robin, Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas, Max, and Erica all piled into Hopper’s truck. You watched as Hopper, Joyce, Eleven, Nancy, and Jonathan piled into Steve’s car.

Once you got to the main road you watched as Hopper and them turned and drove toward the cliffs while you and the gang began to drive towards the laundry mat. It finally struck you just how real all of this was. That it was really happening and you were about to go into an interdimensional war yet again. This time however you swallow your fear, straighten your back and take a deep breath. You don’t know what’s coming but you know you won’t go down without a fight.

The car comes to a stop in front of the laundromat and you’re the first one out of the car making your way to the trunk. You start gathering weapons. You wrap some belts of bullets around your waist and you grab a utility belt full of knives and a machete. You watch as Steve grabs a flamethrower and some knives. Once you, Steve and Robin have grabbed a sufficient amount of weapons for yourselves you turn and look at each other and nod.

You turn around and look at the kids.

“Okay guys. Take your pick”

They all perk up at this.

“Wait really? We get to use the guns and shit”

You turn and look at Steve and Robin once again all in agreement. Normally you wouldn’t condone the kids having guns, grenades, and knives but nothing about this was normal. They need to be able to defend themselves.

You grab one gun in particular that you’d picked out at the war zone specifically for Lucas and you walk it over to him.

“I thought I was just keeping watch with Max and Erica?”

“We don’t know what’s going to happen in there Lucas and we also don’t know what’s going to be happening out here. Here, take it. I will say it’s got a stronger kick than the slingshot but I think you’ll like it”

Lucas takes it and studies it, the longer he looks at it you can tell he’s no longer studying it but just admiring it. You walked over towards Erica and you pulled a special knife out of your utility belt.

“Oh my god. Is this what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s a Kukri than you’re right”

Erica looked at you and gave you a pretty big smile despite the current circumstances and gave you a quick hug.

Lastly you walked over to Max and took her hands in yours.

“You’re not giving me a weapon are you?”

You laughed slightly and she did too.

“You’ve got two VERY competent people looking out for you. I wouldn’t worry too much”

You say and you make sure to make eye contact with Lucas ensuring that he hears you.

“You’re coming back Y/n Hargrove or I swear to god”

“I’m coming back Max. I’ll be back.”

You give her a tight hug and linger there for a moment before you pull away.

You turn and look at the gang and you all head towards the door of the laundromat.

As you walk through the door the laundry mat is quiet. So quiet it’s eerie and you can even hear a slight ringing in your ears. Steve takes the lead and walks by rows upon rows of washers and dryers until you reach the very back of the building. You turn and look at the wall and find broken in the wall between 4 sets of machines is a pulsating gate. It’s red glow emanating from the area.

You step forward and unsheathe your machete from your utility belt and slice at the pulsating sack that covers the gate. It takes a few whacks but you can finally see into the upside down. You hesitate upon seeing it. It’s now or never you think. So you step through.

One by one everyone begins to step through the gate. Steve turns to Lucas and pulls him aside a few steps and puts the car keys in Lucas’s hand.

“Listen Lucas….if things go south. You take Max and you take Erica and you drive as far away from here as possible. You got it Sinclair?”

Lucas turned and looked towards Max and Erica and then back to Steve.

“Copy that. Good luck Harrington”

Steve put a hand on Lucas’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze before he turned back towards the gate and walked through.

You’d forgotten how cold it was here. Not freezing and nothing you couldn’t handle. As you look around the upside down laundromat your anxiety begins to rise slowly. Being back in this place feels different now that Vecnas has been in your head. You wonder if this is how Will feels. Your question is answered when you and Will lock eyes and you both notice you have your hands on the back of your necks.

You both quickly break eye contact and continue to move forward.

“Okay well what now?” Mike said as he turned to Steve as he finished stepping through the gate.

Steve turned and looked at you and then he turned and looked at Dustin. You could see the pity in his eyes as he began to speak.

“Well now Wheeler. We find a way to get to the trailer park.”

“Wait what? Why are we heading to the trailer park?” You asked in a tone that was a bit snippier than you meant it to be. Hopper and Steve hadn’t filled you all in on the new plan and this surely wasn’t a part of the last one.

“What happened to us heading to the creel house and starting there?”

“Eleven said that Eddie isn’t with Vecna. He may be controlled and led by Vecna but he isn’t with him but she didn’t recognize where he was. Hopper suggested we start at the last place Eddie was when he died and start there”

Steve was already making his way outside the laundry mat.

Dustin looked at you and it was clear you shared the same emotions about heading back to that trailer park.

“I think y/n’s right even if Vecna isn’t with Eddie why would we start at the trailer park? It's been almost a year shouldn’t we start at the creel house and follow leads from there?”

As Dustin said it you realized you were both wrong and you sighed and leaned against the washing machine by the door.

“No Dustin. Steve’s right. If Eddie heard me on the walkie talkie that means he’s been at the trailer park recently. That’s usually where I would talk to him”

You covered your face with your hands briefly and sighed. It was hard enough going home to the trailer park everyday in your world but coming back here where everything happened? You hated the idea of it and you were getting a bad feeling. Should you even be here?

Inhaling sharply as you feel a slight touch to your shoulder and you look up at Robin whose face is painted with concern but also a look that lets you know you need to get going. You nod your head and stand up fully and head out the door.

The gang's first stop was to break into the Brickman's household. They had 8 kids and they all would ride around the neighborhood. So you broke into their house and stole their bikes first so you could get across town.

Even with the bikes it still feels like it takes an eternity. You can’t help but wonder how the other teams are doing and if they’re okay.

Coming to a screeching halt on your bikes, you turn and make eye contact with Will. Both clearly panicked as you two walked away from your bikes and started looking around.

“Will? Y/n? What’s going on? Guys what’s happening?” Mike was looking around frantically trying to figure out why you two were acting this way.

You spotted it. Up on a power line head low watching you intensely. It was one of those things. The things that killed Eddie. A demobat. You walked towards the power line holding eye contact with the bat. Why wasn’t it moving? Attacking? Where are the others? It climbs down the power line and down the pole and gets closer to you. You’re still standing a bit aways from the pole but it could definitely see you better this way.

All of a sudden it flies off and it happens so fast that you stumble back and trip and fall on your ass. What the hell was that? Why didn’t it attack you? Or screech to call the others? The feeling doesn’t leave though. You can feel something dangerous is near and it wasn’t the demobat. You look down from the power line into the Forest and you see a demodog.

It’s stalking you.

By now the others are all coming to try and help you off the ground but you hold up your hand signaling them to pause. You guide their gazes slowly with your hand. As soon as you get back on your feet it lunges and is running at you.

Mike and Robin are quick to the draw. Robin quickly begins shooting with the shotgun that Nancy had shown her. And Mike begins shooting at it with a revolver. Steve and Dustin take the final shot when Dustin uses a lighter and hairspray from one side with Steve and his flame thrower across from him.

The now on fire demodog turns and runs back injured into the forest.

Everyone takes a moment to stop and makes sure everyone is okay.

Getting back onto the bikes everyone seems to be peddling a little faster than before. Finally arriving at the trailer park everything is silent. Everyone takes a moment and just stands in front of the entrance to the trailer park sign. As if once you cross this threshold there is no return.

Dustin takes the first step. You watch as he begins to take more steps, each one adding confidence. But you seem to be frozen in place. Mike puts his hand on your shoulder and nods his head towards the trailer park. He gives you a slight smile. You have no reason to but you smile back and step with him into the park.

The very second your foot touches the dirt you know it was a mistake and that you shouldn’t have come here. Your nose begins to bleed and your skull feels like it’s going to split open when you hear Vecnas voice ring in your ears.

“I see you. I see ALL of you”

Grabbing your head and collapsing to your knees you look around to see Will doing the same. It stops rather quickly and that worries you more. He’d just confirmed to you that he knows exactly where you are and can get into your head in a snap and he didn’t. Why?

You and Will stand back up and say in sync “He knows we’re here. He knows where we are”

“Oh god what are we gonna do? Steve, what do we do? Where do we go? Can he get in all of our heads now? If he can, why hasn’t he? If he was in their heads why didn’t he do anything?”Robin was now shaking as she said this. Robin looked like she was losing it.

“This doesn’t change anything.” Everyone turned and looked at you like you were the one losing it now.

“This doesn’t change anything. The plan goes on just as we said. That’s all we can do now”

They knew you were right. You all had your missions and you’re sticking to yours. Wiping the blood off your face and standing back up straight you walk further into the park. Making your way to Eddie’s trailer you swing open the door and stride inside.

Once inside you come to an abrupt stop. There were demobats everywhere. Not everywhere you’re just panicking. But no matter how many are in here anything more than 0 is too many. They’re mostly on the walls. Not moving much or slightly crawling. But they’re all awake. And they all see you.

Dustin steps in behind you and you quickly turn around and shut and lock the door from the others.

“Dustin! shit! Get out!” You whisper yelled at him. He turned around and his eyes widened as he realized what you guys had walked into.

“Why aren’t they attacking us?”

“I have no idea. Why didn’t that 1 attack me earlier. What is Vecna up to? What game is he playing?”

You decide to do something stupid and walk right up to one of them. And get close enough to feel its breath on your face. It does nothing. You turn around to Dustin who looks dumbfounded at what you’d just done.

Turning away from Dustin you continue through the trailer. Most things in the upside down look unused and disgusting.

Eddie's trailer didn’t. It was still dark and well upside down but there were no vines in here. Sure there were bats but things were relatively livable? Once you got to Eddie’s room it confirmed it for you. He wasn’t in there but someone had been. And relatively recently. Judging by the fresh cigarette butts in the ashtray by his bed. There was a drink on the table as well. It was full of some liquid but it didn’t look like water and it’s so dark you can’t quite make out what it is.

“Dustin? What is this?” You hand him the cup to let him examine it. Dustin pours some into his hand and even sniffs it to investigate. You promise yourself if he goes to lick it that you’ll smack him. Thankfully he doesn’t but he turns to you with a concerned and confused look.

“Y/n. This is blood.”

A loud bang comes from the front of the trailer, forcing you and Dustin to break your conversation. As you and Dustin look down the hallways you see Steve angry faced making his way towards you with the others.

“What the hell was that you guys, you can’t just lock us out of the trailer and not respond Jesus Christ I thought you two could have been dead in here. Don’t you two ever do that again” Steve had his hands on his hips and he looked furious. You really did feel bad but once you two started investigating the trailer you guys kind of forgot they were out there.

Dustin told Steve what you two had discovered and as they stood there questioning why Eddie would have a cup of blood by his bed you made your way over to one of the bats on the wall. It blinked at you and made very wide eyes. You swallowed thickly and stepped forward. Reaching a shaky hand out you pet the demobat. It’s not a pleasant feeling and you never want to do it again.

It nods at you and crawls on the wall towards the trailer door.

“you guys?” Dustin and Steve are still enthralled in their blood conversation and haven’t noticed what’s happening.

“YOU GUYS!!!”

You, Robin, Will, and Mike all yell it in sync and the boys turn confused as the rest of you head towards the door. You open the door and the bat flies out and lands on a mailbox two trailers over. You run out to your bike and begin to get on it.

“Woah woah woah y/n where are you going?!”Steve hadn’t quite caught up but when you turned to look at the group it appeared he wasn’t the only one. Everyone looked at you like you were insane. You turned and looked at the bat and then back at the group.

“I think it wants us to follow it”

“Uh yeah exactly so why would you follow it?” Steve asked and you realized that’s why everyone thought you were crazy. Why were you following this bat?

“I have this feeling…I can’t explain it….But when I looked at it…I need to follow it. So either come with me or don’t but I’m following this bat.” You get on your bike and begin to ride. As you do the bat flies into the air. Not too fast but enough to where you can just barely keep up. You don’t need to turn around to know the rest of the gang had gotten on their bikes and were following along with you.

It finally dawned on you a few miles in. The demobat was taking you to the highschool. The closer you got to the highschool the faster you biked. Something in you told you that was where you needed to be.

Once you reach the parking lot you watch the demobat fly up onto the roof of the school and out of your view. As you bike around the school you realize it’s been boarded up pretty heavily and decorated? Eddie had to have been here. Who else would take the time to spray paint corroded coffin on the side of a highschool in the upside down. There was one door not as boarded up as the others so you made your way over to that door.

Steve made sure to take the lead of the group and stepped into the empty school hallway. Once he saw it was clear he waved the rest of you in and you began to walk through the school. The school was lined with demobats on the inside and they all seemed to originate from one room. You made your way to the theatre room door and put your hand on the handle. Opening it with a shaky hand.

You’re greeted with an odd sight. The room is set up for dungeons and dragons. At the end of the table is a new throne. A large one. Compared to the trailer this looked like where Eddie was actually living. His amps were set up and his guitar was hung above the throne. He had to be here. There was a cigarette burning in the ashtray and an open comic book on the table. But no sight of Eddie. You all continue investigating carefully, trying not to disturb the bats. Everything comes to a freeze when you hear footsteps on the roof. Turning around with wide eyes looking at the group, you run out of the room and make your way outside the building. Hopping on your bike you begin to ride around the school looking for a way to gain access to the roof.

On one side of the building there’s a dumpster pushed up next to a big shed connected to the main building. Coming to a stop and one by one getting off your bikes and heading towards the dumpster. You’re the first to climb up and go all the way onto the roof. You run into the center and begin to look around for the bat or any sign of Eddie.As the moment passes and you don’t see the bat you begin to wonder what's taking so long for your friends to join you on the roof. Running over to the edge of the building you feel your chest tighten.

Nobody was there. What you heard next made you want to vomit. The beginning of that goddamn chime ringing in your ears as you slowly turn around. You find yourself face to face with Billy.

“It’s time to join me y/n”

“no no no no” your shaking your head in a panic. You’d lead yourself into your own trap.

“You should have joined me that night. At the mall. I know you think about it all the time. How guilty you felt watching your own brother die. Or is it the guilt you felt about the relief? You wanted me to die. You let me die. So you are going. To. Join. Me.”

Will was the first one to make it to you on the roof. Calling for the others before he even reached you because he just knew. Steve was the first to discover you no longer had your Walkman assuming you must have dropped it when you fell on your ass earlier or somewhere along the bike rides. They were all screaming your name panicking.

“DUSTIN HENDERSON”

A loud voice boomed from the opposite side of the roof. The entire group freezes and spins around to see Eddie Munson. Standing tall in the midst of a large swarm of Demobats. Eddie was different. His eyes had a dark red glow to them. Black veins straining from his eyes down his face. He had large black wings outstretched on his back.

“E-E-Eddie? Is-is it really you?”

Eddie used large strides to walk across the roof. Out of instinct everyone moved to shield your body. They weren’t sure if you were safe around him.

The closer Eddie got the more Dustin could clearly see Eddie’s blood stained clothes. He could see faint scars of where the Demobats had bitten him. When Eddie was close enough Dustin could see his smile. And the blood dripping from it and his bloody fangs. “Oh god. Eddie what did he do to you man?”

Eddie looked at Dustin and dropped his forced smile and fought enough to give Dustin one warning.

“I’m sorry man” that’s all Dustin needed and it was enough to know. Eddie was in there but he wasn’t at the wheel right now. And that’s when the gang realized the bats had settled and were now surrounding the gang on the roof.

“E-Eddie please. I don’t know what you’re doing man but it’s me it’s it’s Dustin I know you’re in there please don’t do this”

All Eddie could do is cry as he was forced to sick his Demobats on his friends. He fought it as much as he could and held as many back as he could trying to at least give them a chance.

They all fought the bats stabbing them, beating them, burning them. But they just kept coming. And when things couldn’t get any worse, your feet begin to leave the ground.

As Billy continued to yell at you and stalk towards you the more you continued to back up. You hit the edge of the roof and fall but you don’t hit the ground. You keep falling until you land on your old living room floor. This is the first house you lived in when you got to Hawkins.

You hated this house. It always smelled like cigarettes and beer. Between Billy and your dad you couldn’t tell who was more responsible for it. That’s when you heard it. Your dad is beating on every door in the house.

“OPEN UP YOU LITTLE SHITS. HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES DID I TELL YOU TO HELP OUT YOUR FUCKING STEP MOTHER”

You had nowhere to run. He was at every door. You collapse onto the floor and curl your knees into your chest and cover your ears with your hands. Pleading for it to stop. Pleading for it all to go away. That’s when you feel a hand on your wrist.

Dustin walks through the swarm of Demobats. Pushing and cutting his way through until he gets to Eddie. They’re both crying.

“EDDIE!! PLEASE!! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! YOU NEED TO MAKE THIS STOP LOOK AT HER EDDIE SHES GONNA DIE. SHES GONNA DIE UNLESS WE HELP HER AND THE ONLY WAY TO HELP HER IS IF YOU MAKE THIS STOP!”

The tears streaming down Eddie’s face burned. He’d missed you so much over the past year. He desperately didn’t want you to be here in the first place. He’d tried to scream at you over the walkie every night to tell you not to come here. He wanted you to just leave him here. He didn’t want to watch you die. He couldn’t bear the thought of it. He hadn’t looked at you yet since being on the roof. He had to force himself to.

He began to fight against the force controlling him. With a shaky head he looked up and saw you floating. He got flashbacks to the night Chrissy died. He can’t watch that happen to you. He won’t watch that happen to you.

It’s like looking at you unlocked something. He found more strength to fight. Strength to stand and command the Demobats to stand down. They all dropped like flies hitting the roof and crawling away. Eddie looked pained. Drawing that much strength to fight against Vecna's control made him dizzy.

He dropped to his knees. And Dustin ran over to him. Dustin’s gaze scanned across Eddie for a moment and Eddie couldn’t help but fear what Dustin would say. Would he call him a monster? Would he be disgusted? Would he want to kill him? Upon feeling Dustin’s arms wrapping around him in an embrace Eddie calmed down for just a second. He let his wings fade away and his fangs retracted. His eyes returned to a familiar shade of brown. He looked almost normal?

The two boys began to cry.

“I missed you so much Eddie.”

“I missed you too man”

The two boys stood up and ran back over to the group who were screaming and crying under your levitating body.

“Dustin, Steve come with me into the school”

“What? Why? We can’t leave y/n she’s gonna die!” Steve was clearly very angry at even the suggestion.

“I’ve got an idea but I need your help. I know it’s a lot to ask but you gotta trust me here man”. Dustin follows Eddie through a hole in the roof and down into the school. Steve contemplates for a second and runs after them.

You begin to scream and cry and try to move away at the grasp of your wrist.

“Y/n! Y/n it’s me! It’s me!!” You open your eyes to see Max and Eleven.

“What? What are you guys doing here? How are you here? You’re not real are you?”

“Y/n I promise we’re real. We found 001 in the creel house and I was able to get into his mind and then jump from his mind to yours when he attacked you” Eleven was grasping your hand and kneeling on the floor.

“Max? How are you here? Can you…see me?”

“I was in the laundry mat with Lucas and Erica and I got this overwhelming feeling like something was wrong. I focused on the feeling and began to wander through my mind. In that black void that eleven told us about. And then I found you. I can see you in my mind” she leaned down and enveloped you in a hug.

“So you have like? Powers now or something?”

“Heh I guess so. We’re gonna protect you y/n don’t worry”

You stood up and stood together in a circle as you looked around at the vibrating doors that surrounded you. Wondering which one would be the one to burst open.

Silence. As the front door inches with a creak.

“Clever. Cleaver girls” the deep voice of Vecna booms through the house.

All he does is tilt his head up quickly and the three of you are thrown backwards across the house, hitting the back wall hard. He walks up to you and puts his hand up to your forehead. And your life begins to flash before your eyes.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU GUYS BEEN” Mike screams toward the hole in the roof when Eddie throws Dustin and Steve up onto the roof followed by amps and his guitar.

“SHUT IT WHEELER GET OVER HERE AND HELP US SET THIS SHIT UP” as soon as Eddie said it, Mike found himself falling back into old habits and following Eddie’s direct orders.

The amps and everything are all set up and Eddie looks toward the gang.

“Okay guys what’s Y/l/n’s song?”

The group looked around at one another hoping one of them held the answer. Nobody did. Steve stood with his hands on his hips

“Seriously we spend all day with her and not a single person bothers to ask what songs playing on her fucking Walkman?” Mike kicks a rock on the roof really hard and it goes flying.

As your life flashes before your eyes you feel weak. You’re scared you don’t wanna die. Not here, not like this. You promised Max you’d come back. You don’t want to leave her.

As everyone argues about what they think your favorite song could be, Eddie decides to take a chance. If he doesn’t try something you're as good as gone anyways.

He thought back to one of the first nights he really started to get to know you. When the gang split up you offered to stay with Eddie. Keep him company so he wouldn’t be so alone on the run. You’d spent the day playing stupid tossing games and talking about absolute nonsense to avoid the topic of him getting arrested for murder.

You’d gone home and came back with snacks, drinks, games, and your cassette player with some cassettes. Eddie chose to play AC/DC’s highway to hell album. He’ll never forget the way you got up and danced with him during Touch Too Much. You were so silly during it. He’d never seen you be that silly before and it made him laugh so hard.

He remembered that you knew every word to almost that whole album and you definitely knew every word to that song. He knew you at least liked it cause he listened to you hum it or sing it on your walkie talkie at least once a night for almost the past year. It was all he had to go on so, he started to play.

As images of your life continue to flash you begin to hear the sounds of a guitar in the distance. You recognize the tune. What is that? You get flashes in your mind of Eddie. That night when you were hiding out. But then more images begin to flash of the first time you played D&D with him. How funny he was and how much he made you smile.

You thought back to when you guys talked alone in the back of the Winnebago and he talked about how much he wanted you to be a part of his next campaign and how excited he was. But then how sincere he got when he said he was glad he met you and how thankful he was that you stuck by his side when he was literally wanted for murder.

You began to think of more happy memories not just with Eddie but with everyone. The times hanging out and getting high with Steve and Robin and the weird movies they’d make you watch from family video. The time spent arguing with the kids at the arcade because you loved being competitive with them.

BOOM! Vecna is shoved away from you and across the room as Eleven uses her powers to shove him into the wall.

Being free from his grasp you look around and you see a portal. Where the music is coming from. You can see Eddie playing the guitar and all your friends standing beneath your floating body.

You turn back towards Eleven who is now tearing into Vecna with all the strength she has. You run over to Max and grab her hand. You point toward debris of the house on the ground and you each grab some. You both take a side and start to lunge at Vecna, beating and stabbing Vecna with the pieces of the house.

You can see Vecna is almost dead and Eleven is on the verge of killing him when she turns to you.

“it’s time for you guys to go. I’ve got it from here. Run.”

You turn to Max and nod. Max leaves your mind and you begin to run toward the portal. Running as fast as your feet will carry you.

With a sharp inhale as your eyes finally roll back to the front of your skull you realize you’re falling. You’re actually falling this time, towards the roof. Luckily a handful of your friends are there to catch you. Robins hands grab onto your face to study you and make sure you’re really alive.

The second everyone realizes you’re okay and haven’t been Vecna’d they all tackle you in a hug. Thankful you’re still alive. As they all pull away you look around and lock eyes with Eddie. Immediately tears form in your eyes and you force yourself to stand and walk forward.

Eddie stills as he fears what you’ll do when you reach him. He flinches slightly as you cup his face in your hands.

“Eddie. Eddie it’s really you?”

“Yeah y/n yeah it’s me”

“I called you Eddie. I called you every night for a year”

He leans down and puts his forehead against yours. And whispers

“I heard”

You both smile and stand there like that for a moment. You can’t take it anymore and you jump up and give him a full hug.

The upside down begins to shake and Eddie holds you up to keep you from falling over from the quaking.

“WHAT NOW?!?” Dustin says clearly exasperated at the recent events.

“Uh yeah I think El might have just killed Vecna so we really need to go” the group turns to look at you and then everyone begins to run towards the edge of the building. You all run down to your bikes and Eddie goes into his other form revealing it to you for the first time.

As you go to get on your bike and he’s about to take off above you, you grab his hand and make sure to look him in the eyes

“Be careful Ed’s”

He smiles and squeezes your hand before taking off and flying above you. No matter what he’s become you need him to know that changes nothing about the way you feel about him.

Eddie follows as he watches you guys bike in the direction of the laundry mat in an attempt to make it back to the gate despite the quaking and cracking ground beneath your feet. Demodogs started chasing you guys but Eddie commanded as many bats as he could to attack and deter the demodogs and any that got too close he’d swoop down, snap their necks, drain them and drop them back on the ground.

Once you all witnessed him do this it confirmed all your suspicions as to what Eddie was now. You didn’t care at the moment. You didn’t have time to care. All that mattered was getting out of this place before it collapsed.

You made it to the laundromat and you all abandoned your bikes with ease as you made a b line for the gate.

As you all ran through the gate you grabbed hold of Max and Lucas and Erica and started running towards the Laundry Mat door.

As you all reach the fresh outside of the real Hawkins you all turn and watch as the Laundry Nat collapses and feel the ground shake beneath your feet. That’s when 3 demodogs come bursting through the rubble of the building. Lucas manages to blow the heads off of two of them right in front of you and Erica manages to stab one to death just before it reaches Max. Erica watches it as it dies a slow and painful death. You couldn’t be happier to see them at this moment.

Nothing earth splitting but the ground continues to go through another series of quakes beneath your feet. You knew the news would definitely be reporting some fallen trees tomorrow.

When the ground stops shaking you run over to the truck and throw open the door scrambling to grab the radio.

“HELLO??!? HELLO???!? DOES ANYBODY COPY?!?! IS ANYONE THERE?!???”

There’s silence. You’re just about to try again. Unwilling to give up. Unwilling to believe they didn’t make it out. When you hear the crackle of the radio and the relieved laughter of the chief on the other end.

“We’re here kid. We’re here!” You both begin joyous laughter across the radio. For the first time in days you felt relieved. There was no feeling creeping up your neck, no pounding in your skull. You felt at peace.

As you turn to face the group you all have these stupids grins on your faces. You were all alive and that thing was dead.

You all sit on the ground for a while just basking in the fact that you’re alive but you decide to leave incase cops or government show up. You all begin to pile back into the truck but Eddie doesn’t.

“Eddie? Come on.” You wave your hand flagging him over to the truck. But he doesn’t move. He just looks at you with big eyes. Walking over to him you put your hand on his arm.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?”

“I’m just not sure going to meet the chief of police is a great idea. Hell I’m not sure being back in Hawkins as what I am is a good idea y/n. I mean I never felt like I belonged here before but shit” his voice was shaky. You could feel how scared he was and you hugged him.

As you pull away you stay in his arms and make sure to stay close to him as you speak in a low voice.

“Eddie. We just got you back. No matter what you’ve become, we're not letting you go anywhere else. You can trust the chief I promise. He’s the one who cleared your name after Dustin and I begged him to last year”

“Oh yeah I remember you telling me about that. I remember you cried as you told me about the news story you saw on the news where they painted me as a hero”

Blood rushed to your cheeks as he detailed the story from his point of view. He really heard you all those days. You leaned in and hugged him again. Very tightly this time and he hugged tightly back. You almost couldn’t breathe. He hugged you so tightly but you didn’t care.

“I missed you Ed’s” you whispered in his ear and he told you he missed you too.

Arriving at the cabin you see the other team has beaten you there and they all stand up off the porch and run to hug you guys. When it gets to your turn to hug Eleven, you make sure to thank her for keeping her promises.

Eddie stands off to the side a bit awkwardly and you grab his hand and lead him over to Will.

“I don’t think you two have been properly introduced. Eddie, this is Will The Wise. Will this is Eddie The Banished. Eddie recognized the name. Mike and Dustin went on and on about this Will The Wise who would join the party someday. Eddie also recognized his face. He remembers reading about Zombie boy in the newspaper. Kid was a local freak. A town outcast like him.

Eddie reached out an eager hand and Will accepted it. You left them as they got to talking about D&D for a bit. And soon enough Eddie, Dustin, Will, Lucas, and Mike were all running around playing pretend like they hadn’t lost a single day together. Seeing Max leaned up against Steve’s car head tilted back towards the sky, you walk over and lean against the hood with her.

“So you read to start that book tomorrow”

Max lets out a heavy groan that makes you both laugh.

“Fine but only for you”. You two leaned against each other and listened to the sounds of happiness coming from those around you. All the people are just glad to be alive together. Eventually everyone got tired and decided it was time to head their separate ways. The Byers, Hopper, and Eleven went back inside the cabin. Johnathan drove Nancy, Mike, Dustin, and Robin home. Steve drove you, Eddie, Max, Lucas and Erica home.

Steve pulled into the trailer park first and you, Eddie, and Max exited the car. As you were walking towards the trailers you heard the car door open and Max came running up to you guys.

“Could I stay with Max tonight?” You looked shocked at what Lucas had asked you. But you thought on it for a second and agreed anyway. You knew how he felt about her and knew he didn’t want to be without her and for tonight you could allow that. You could allow that because there's no way in hell you’re letting Eddie out of your sight. Not tonight.

You watch as Lucas and Max walk into your trailer and close the door as you make your way to the bench over towards the front of the park and sit down next to Eddie.

“I guess this is kind of like our spot?”

He laughs as he says it. He seems nervous. Tense.

“Yeah I suppose it is Ed’s.”

He stares up at the sky and you can’t help but stare at him. He looks so beautiful in the moonlight. As his dirty long hair full of leaves and dirt fair frames his face. And the boy desperately needs a shower. He still manages to sit there and take your breath away.

“You know Ed’s. I’ve sat on this bench every night for the last year rambling on about pretty much every thought that went through my head. How about you give it a try. What’s going on in that Munson head of yours”

You had a feeling you knew what he was gonna say. Why he was sitting out on this bench instead of walking into that trailer. He’s scared to see his uncle. Scared to show him what he’s become.

You knew Wayne. You were his neighbor for Christ sake and especially after you lost Eddie you went out of your way to get to know the man. A stubborn, quiet but nice man. You knew he loved Eddie more than anything.

“Well y/n I’m scared as hell. What if I walk in that door and all he sees is some monster. What if he doesn’t want me? Or worse Y/n what if he tries to kill me”

Scooting closer to him, you take his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“Edward Munson. Your uncle is not going to leave you. Sure maybe he might have to adjust to the new you. But he will not leave you or throw you away. He loves you Eddie. He misses you Eddie.” Eddie swallows hard and takes a deep breath. Covering your hands on his face with his own hands he leans in and presses your foreheads together.

“Can we stay out here? Just for a little bit. I’m not ready yet”

“Of course Eddie”

You both lay back on the bench and sit in the quiet for a moment staring up at the stars. It took you a minute to realize you two were holding hands.

“Thank you Eddie.”

Turning his head to the side he looks over at you with a quizzical brow.

“For saving me Eddie. You saved my life back there”

“I mean it’s the least I could do after luring you into that trap”

“Hey, that wasn’t you. That was Vecna”

“He still used me to do it”

“Okay fine then I take it back I don’t thank you I’m not thankful at all” you say it through laughter obviously messing with him.

In return Eddie puts his hand up to his chest mimicking pain.

“Y/n you wound me. But hey seriously I’ll save you any time. And I should be the one thanking you. You didn’t give up on me you came looking for me and you guys got me out of there thank you”

You knew he was staring at you but you couldn’t look him in the eyes. After hearing how sincere he was when you thanked him your eyes threatened you with tears. You both lay on the bench for a few minutes until you hear Eddie take a deep breath and stand from the bench. Turning and taking your hands in his he forces you up from the bench and you begin walking towards the trailer.

He knocks. No answer. He knocks again a bit louder. No answer. He bangs on the door. There’s some angry grumbling from inside about having any idea what time it is and the door swings open.

Wayne Munson stops in his tracks. In his sights are his dead nephew and his neighbor looking disheveled, dirty, and exhausted. Wayne stumbles forward and grabs onto Eddie, eyes beginning to flood with tears.

“Eddie? Eddie my boy is it really you” Wayne managed to choke out the words and you can see Eddie beginning to tremble as he speaks back.

“Yeah Wayne it’s me it’s-it’s Eddie” Wayne grabs Eddie and pulls him into a tight hug that lasts a while as they cry into each other. Eventually they pull away and Wayne looks towards you. He reaches out and grabs your arm and pulls you in for a hug.

“Thank you. Thank you for bringing my Eddie back to me”

The three of you head inside the trailer and sit in the living room as you reveal the entire story to Wayne as he demanded to know. Eddie very reluctantly told Wayne that he’d become a vampire and all Wayne managed to say was

“Oh come on now you’re just gonna use that as another excuse to sleep all day” hearing him say this made Eddie laugh with relief as tears streamed down his face.

His uncle knew it wasn’t going to be easy and there would be a lot of adjustments but he didn’t care. He had Eddie back and that’s all that mattered.

Eventually sunrise came and Eddie decided he wanted to go shower and head off to bed and he offered to stay with him which you accepted. His uncle hadn’t had the heart to change Eddie’s room after Eddie died. He did clean it and organize it so it did take some time to find the clothes he wanted but eventually he found something and tossed you a shirt and some sweatpants.

You let him have the shower first because boy did he need it. He spent a good hour and a half in there and you bet it felt amazing. When he got out of the shower and it was your turn, you stepped in and let the water run over yourself for a while.

Running your hands over your hair you take a deep breath in and as you breathe out you just begin to sob horribly and you stand there hugging yourself until you calm down. Stepping out of the shower and drying off you’re thankful for the warmth that Eddie’s clothes bring.

Walking back into Eddie’s room you can feel his eyes on you. Watching your every move.

“You okay Y/n?”

“Mmhmm” is all you say and it definitely wasn’t enough to convince Eddie in the slightest.

“I don’t mean to pry but people who are okay don’t usually cry that hard”

You freeze upon hearing his words. Had you really been crying that loud? Turning to face him as he lays on his bed leaning against his wall, you walk over and sit next to him on the bed. Almost mimicking him you lean back against the wall in the same way he does. Turning to face him now much closer you begin to whisper.

“Just been stressed is all. Finally got to let it out” giving him a weak smile that he returns.

In the dim light of the room and seeing his faint smile painted across his face. The way his features look so soft when directed at you. The smell of the shampoo coming from his dark hair. You decided not to waste anymore time. You’d already lost him once.

“Ed’s?”

“Yeah Y/n?”

“I love you too by the way. I didn’t get to say it before”

The faint smile on Eddie’s face grows into a grin as he leans in incredibly close to your face. Your breath stills as you feel his lips brush against yours.

“I know. I know because I heard you say it to me every night for the past year”

He kisses you once deeply and slowly. You close your eyes and begin to kiss him back when he pulls away and continues speaking against your mouth

“I know because all I’ve thought about for the past year is getting back to you. Getting to see you. Getting to tell you how much I love you” he wraps one hand around your waist and the other hand moves to cup your face.

He must have brushed his teeth too. He tastes like mint and tobacco. You deepen the kiss even more, pushing your way into his mouth and leaning against him fully. His hand moves from your waist and curves up your back, pulling you into him.

He breaks the kiss and begins peppering kisses down your jaw and neck as you run your fingers through his hair. You can’t help but moan as he begins to suck on your neck in the area near your collarbone. As you moan Eddie pulls away for a second and takes your chin between his fingers to look at him.

“Baby you let me know if I’m taking it too far okay?” nodding your head up and down to signal yes.

“I need you to say it baby. Can you say it?”

“I’ll let you know Ed’s” you lean forward and capture his lips in a kiss. This time moving forward to straddle his hips. The kisses started out slow and deep but the more you kiss the more sloppy and feverish it becomes. It’s like you can’t even control it when you roll your rips up against Eddie’s for the first time. Sending a groan through Eddie as he feels you roll against his hard length and he feels himself get harder at the light moan you release upon feeling him too.

His hands roamed down to your hips and he grabbed at them as you continued to roll your hips against him. Every pretty sound you made, made him more desperate. He grabbed you harder and you knew you’d have bruises on your hips in the morning from his hands. You were so happy about it.

You begin to feel Eddie’s hand travel to the hem of your shirt and yank it a couple times and you get the hint. Breaking the kiss you lean back and strip the shirt from your body right in front of him. His hands are already on your breasts by the time you blink. He’s staring at them wide eyed like he just got a new toy on Christmas. You give a slight chuckle that turns into a moan as he begins to massage them in his hands. He bucks his hips up to yours causing you to whimper.

Your moans become erratic as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth and begins working his tongue around the area. You grind down hard against his dick and with a groan he releases your breast and flips you onto your back.

“S’this okay?”

“Yeah this is great actually” you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down on top of you and into another deep kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he grinds down onto you. You reach down and pull on Eddie’s shirt hoping he’ll get the hint. He leans back and throws off his shirt and looks back down at you.

He begins to trail his hands up and down your legs and finally stops at the waistband of your sweatpants. “May I?” He asks, waiting for your approval to remove them.

“Please” you say sounding more desperate than you meant to but right now you were a bit desperate.

He begins to slide the sweatpants down and he gives your thigh a little slap

“Lift your hips for me baby” you do as he says and lift your hips as he slides the sweatpants along with your underwear down your body with ease. Once they’re off he eases your hips back down with his hand. “Good girl” he says and your whole body shudders a bit and he takes notice with a smirk.

He takes a second to lean back and just bask in the sight of you. You’re the only girl he’d dreamt about for the last year and now he knew nothing in his imagination was as good as the real thing. Hovering over you he captured you in another kiss as his hands traveled around your body. One hand was working its way further down your stomach, then your waist, his hand moved all the way down to your thigh taking it in his hand and grabbing it hard before he moved his hand back up and gently placed his hand to your folds.

Just by running his fingers up and down he could feel how soaking wet you were. He’d been able to smell your arousal for a while now but now he could feel it and he felt like he was losing his mind. He pressed his fingers between your folds and he began to rub your clit slowly with his thumb. Testing the waters to gauge your reaction.

Upon hearing your shaky moans he began to go faster, circling gently but fast enough to drive you crazy. As his thumb continued on your clit he slipped the tip of his middle finger into your entrance and listened as he buried his face in the crook of your neck upon listening to your shaky whimpering moans. He slipped his middle finger the rest of the way and began moving his finger in and out until he felt comfortable enough to add his ring finger. The way you were screaming his name made him feel like a god.

He was drunk off of the feeling of being with you. Everything about you was consuming him. All he wanted to know right now is what you would sound like as you came around him. And he just knew he was going to find out. Moving his fingers deeper in you and moving harder against your clit he knew you were getting close.

It had never felt like this before with anyone. It had never felt this strong before. You could feel yourself getting close and you could hear yourself crying Eddie’s name as you clenched around his hand covering his fingers in your cum.

As he worked you through your high and you came down you opened your eyes barely to look at him. Swallowing thickly as you watched him bring his fingers up to his mouth and lick them clean. When he was done you pulled him into a deep kiss where you could taste yourself on his tongue. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss.

Eddie pulled away and stood to remove his sweatpants finally. Revealing the most painful erection he’s ever had in his life as you stare at his now naked form. You couldn’t help but admire every piece of him. Every scar, every tattoo. Eyes traveling lower however you began to admire his dick too. He was bigger than you’d imagined.

He moved back onto the bed and returned to his previous position above you and he nudged your legs open with his knee.

“Are you sure about this? If you need me to stop at any point you let me know okay?”

“I will Ed’s. Promise”

You feel his dick pressing up against you and you grab onto his arm and gasp slightly as he presses the head of his dick into you. He presses in a bit more and you throw your head back as you feel him stretching you out. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck as he makes the final push in and lets you adjust.

“Good girl. Such a good girl” he coos into your ear soothing you as you adjust to his size. Soon enough he finally moves and you both begin to moan at the sensation. You both try to hold back and take it slow but with each thrust and roll of your hips the more you begin to unravel. All the tension of the past year apart and the stress of the events from the past few days finally being released.

Both of you stop trying to go slow and the movements are now rough and sloppy.

One of Eddie’s hands moves down your leg and lifts your knee upwards. This allows Eddie to thrust into you at a new deeper angle.

You’re practically seeing stars and can’t put together anything other than his name or various curses.

Eddie’s head is buried in your neck as he moans and groans right into your ear the sounds just adding more and more to your pleasure. You know you’re close and you try to tell Eddie by babbling out a bunch of words.

He doesn’t need you to tell him cause he already knows you're close and he starts thrusting even faster and trying to make each thrust as deep as possible.

Your entire body shakes as your orgasm rocks you and can’t help but scream out Eddie’s name. It only takes a couple more thrusts for Eddie to come undone inside of you once he felt you fluttering and clenching around him he knew he was done.

You two stayed wrapped up in each other coming down from your highs for a few minutes until Eddie gently pulls out and rolls over on his back.

“Damnit now I’m gonna have to take another shower” Eddie says through breathless laughter.

“I think my shower will have to wait till tomorrow there’s no way I can stand up right now” you turn and look at him with a dopey smile and giggles. He leans over and gives you a tender kiss on the lips before he stands and walks out of the room. Returning a second later with a towel that he uses to clean the two of you up.

He crawls back into the bed beside you and wraps himself around you in a close hug as he covers you both with the blankets.

For the first time in over a year you both get a peaceful night's sleep with no pain, no nightmares, no flashbacks. And you fall asleep with a smile on your face knowing he heard you.

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