Can I Request A Gn!reader Whos Been Trained To Be A Weapon Most Of Their Life So Theyre Not Really Good

Can i request a gn!reader who’s been trained to be a weapon most of their life so they’re not really good with feelings? They’ve been adopted by the batfamily and they get hurt on a mission, they hide and stuff but dick or Jason (maybe both?) finds out, and like kinda scold them for not saying anything and ask why they would keep this a secret. The reader replies something ‘I just didn’t think it was a big deal’ IT WAS A BIG DEAL. So it’s just fluff and angst😇. You can end it with them having a movie night after patching reader up to feel better? You can change somethings up if it crosses your boundaries! <3

Hurt

Warnings: mild mentions of violence and wounds, cussing, mentions of past trauma, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of an old abusive home, bad writing, animal abuse. Please let me know if I miss anything

A/n: Hello and tysm for requesting!! I just wanted to let you know that if you are in an abusive relationship or family, you are not alone. If you are sensitive to content like this, please leave (respectfully ofc)

Enjoy!!

You pressed yourself up against the rough alley wall, clutching your side in pure pain as tears threatened to fall down your face.

You squinted your eyes shut and gritted your teeth to hold back a grutal scream of pain and slid down the wall.

You were just out on patrol, as usual, when you heard various voices, laughter, and whines from the very same alley you layed in now; soaked in your own blood.

Without a second thought, you dove down into the alleyway. You immediately realized what was going on.

There were five men surrounding what seemed to be a puppy with various wounds.

You frowned. Damian would not have been happy if he saw this.

The men turned to look at you and you could tell some of them were panicked while the rest simply smirked and stared you down.

A large fight ensued between you and three of the men while the other two stood by and watched while also making sure the puppy wouldn't escape.

You took note of this and kicked down one of the men I the direction of the other two, causing him to stumble back, bringing the two with him.

The puppy escaped but you couldn't.

Soon they were all fighting you, and it was a bit too much for you to handle.

They kicked you over and over on your sides, punched you, spat at you, and even stabbed you.

You barely won the fight, and now you stared down at their bloody, unconscious bodies in pure hatred.

You couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed and upset with yourself.

Since the moment you were born, you were trained to be a weapon similar to Damian.

You absolutely hated it and you were more than happy when Bruce took you in, but you still felt ashamed any time you were beat in a fight.

You remember how your parents used to severely punish you any time you'd fail a mission or training.

They never held back when it came to your punishments. Even when you were a toddler.

They'd punch and kick you just like the men had and you fucking hated it.

You hated how it brought you back to those dark memories and you hated how it reminded you that you'd never fully recover from it.

Your new family always tried to convince you that'd things were different now; that you were safe.

You'd always try to believe them but there was always that lingering feeling that you were never good enough.

There was always a tiny little voice that screamed and yelled at you about how useless, weak, and annoying you were.

There was always that little voice that told you how much of a burden you were to your new and old family.

But that wasn't the problem right now.

The problem right now was how you'd get back to the batcave/manor without getting caught and interrogated by Bruce or any one of your other family members.

You scouted out for an idea in your head when you finally got one.

Damian, Bruce, and Tim were still out on patrol and Jason and Dick weren't even in the city.

So all you had to do was walk in through the front door with your spare key and pray that Alfred wasn't going to see you.

'Perfect ', you thought.

You searched for your keys in your pocket until you finally got them.

Bruce gave it to you the first time you arrived a couple months ago, claiming that it'd help keep you safe.

You never really understood what he meant but you didn't really mind.

You sloppily fit the key into the whole and twisted it until you heard the familiar click of the door unlocking.

You cracked the door open and peeked in to see if anybody was around, and thankfully, there wasn't.

You fully pushed the door in and stepped in.

Closing the door behind you, you propelled yourself towards the grand stairs.

You immediately froze in your tracks when you heard two muffled voices coming closer towards your direction.

Who could that be? Nobody except aflred was home and these were two voices.

'Was it an intruder? ' You thought and immediately got into your fighting stance, fists up, ready to fight.

The voices inched closer and closer when you realized they sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

You held your stance when the owners of the voice stepped into your field of vision.

'Fuck! ' You immediately began panicking when you realized who it was. Dick and Jason.

They were about to ask you a question when you beat them to it. "What the fuck are you doing here!?".

"We should be asking you that" Jason retorted and you rolled your eyes.

You went back to your normal stance, trying to ignore the painful sting in your feet and arms.

Dick ignored Jason and turned you, signaling you to answer first.

You sighed in annoyance and began explaining your lie you made up on the way here. "I forgot my batarangs and came back here to get them".

They both gummed and not-so-subtly glanced at one another, clearly looking through your plain lie.

"Your lying," Jason stated plainly, "Tell us the truth"

But you completely ignored and asked once again; "now what are you two doing here?".

They frowned.

"If we tell you, will you tell us the truth?" Dick asked and you thought for a second.

You were already in too deep— there was no coming back.

So, you reluctantly nodded your head in agreement.

"Bruce called us in for an emergency meeting." Jason said plainly. "There. Now tell us the truth".

You hung your head low and noticed how your hands seemed to have had a seizure from all the shaking it was doing.

You felt as if they'd yell and punish your if you told them the truth. You knew that wasn't the case; you knew they weren't like that, but you couldn't help it.

Tears threatened to come falling down when you thought of another lie. Hopefully theyd believe you this time.

"I felt a bit tired and decided to come back early." You said a bit too quickly. "Goodnight" you murmered before rushing up the stairs and to your room.

They called after you to come back but you only ignored them and sped up.

Excruciating pain shot through your body with every step you took, but you couldn't care less.

Your hand barely touched the door handle when another one put a hand over yours, stopping you from opening the door anymore.

You looked up and saw Jason, jaw clenched as he stared into your soul.

Feeling a small bit of pressure on your shoulder, you looked and saw yet another big, rough hand rested upon your shoulder. Dick.

You shrinked the longer they stared at you until one of them spoke.

"What happened" Jason asked once again, voice as cold as his stare. Actually, he wasn't even asking, he was demanding.

You gulped and your eyes darted around the room but was quickly interrupted by another deep voice.

"Answer the question" Dick said coldly and you knew that there was no going back now.

You let go of the handle with a shaky breath and turned to face the two of them. Their arms were crossed as they stared down at you and you swore you felt tiny little bugs crawling up and down your entire body.

"D-do you promise not to be mad?" You asked in a small, shaky voice.

They were a bit taken back for a second but quickly recovered; hoping you didn't see their faces.

"Of course not" Dick reassured.

You still felt a bit uneasy about telling them what actually happened but you knew they'd never actually judge you.

"I was attacked by 5 men during patrol. I was trying to fight them off but I wad too weak," tears were now falling out your eyes and down your face. "I'm sorry" your voice was small like a mouse at the end.

Their icey gazes immediately warmed up as they began trying to reassure you.

"It's okay, there's no need to apologize" dick said as he brought his hands up to wipe your tears away with the pads of his thumb.

He held your face between both his hands and you couldn't help but lean into the unfamiliar touch.

"Are you hurt?" Jason asked

"Yeah... just a bit".

"Why did you tell us?" Jason asked in what seemed to be a hurt voice.

"I didn't think it was a big deal" you admitted sheepishly and dug your face more into Dicks hands as if trying to hide from your emberasment.

The truth was the complete opposite.

You knew it was a big deal but you didn't want to bother or burden anybody— especially not your brothers— with your wounds.

It was fucking painful but you thought you could patch yourself up.

You didn't need any help, right?

Right.

They were completely and utterly shocked— what do you mean no big deal!? This was a huge deal to them.

"What do you mean 'no big deal'!?" Jason asked, almost mockingly.

Dick scowled and sent him a glare, signaling at him to shut up.

A huge wave of guilt washed over Jason, but he didn't show it. "Sorry" he mumbled sheepishly.

"C'mon, let's take you to the medical room" he whispered into your ear as he lead you down the stairs and towards the batcave.

They placed you onto the small bed and in the bright florescent light, they could tell your injuries were definitely more than a big deal.

Blood covered your mask and suit. They could tell your leg especially hurt considering most of the blood came from there and your abdomen.

They didn't even understand how you even managed to walk— let alone up the stairs.

"Get me the med-kit" Jason demanded, pointing at Dick then the nearby meditation.

He was back in a flash with the med-kit and set it down beside you.

Jason opened it immediately and pulled out all the materials he needed.

Jason was always better when it came to patching up wounds compared to Dick. It was mostly because Jason got more hurt than Dick did during patrol, even though he'd never admit it.

His hands were fast but gentle as he began patching you up.

You had a high pain tolerance, so it only stang when he pressed the alcohol against your wounds.

Once he was finally done, he put away all the materials and turned to face you along with Dick.

You had since stopped crying and began pushing yourself off of the bed, standing up to your full length.

"Thank you" you mumbled, barely loud enough for them to hear.

They nodded and you began making your way towards the door when the stopped you.

"Hey" Dick said and you turned to look at him. You signaled for him to continue and he did, "you're not alone. You can always reach out to me or anybody else for help, okay?"

You nodded your head in agreement and they both smiled.

"Good."

.

I'm not really happy with this one but oh well, I hope at least you enjoyed

-toes<3

Im just breaking my own heart by reading fanfics I know are discontinued

Incorrect quotes

Y/n: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait.

Nat: You and me!!!

Y/n, tearing up: Okay.

Me

My Fathers' Daughter pt 13

Hello everyone! Can I just say thank you to everyone for the love and support! Thank you everyone for sticking by me while I took a break. Thank you everyone for the kind messages and ideas. I'm the type of person that needs positive reassurance so really, it's you guys that are the reason I returned to writing.

For the first time in months you felt at peace.

Ironically, it was when you were shoved in a stinky backseat of a dirty taxi. But you were in a stinky taxi with people you truly love.

And Dopinder.

But even he's better than being in that house right now. Anything truly is.

"Hey" A soft voice breaks your thoughts, you turn from where you're looking out the window.

Peter was gazing at you with concern in his eyes. He had his own reservations about coming to get you, that's why Wade had decided to kidnap him. But seeing you, practically throw yourself into him and cry?! He didn't need any more convincing than that.

One thing Y/n Stark does not do is let people see her cry.

"Are you okay?" He asks, knowing that you're not but he knows that you won't tell him if he doesn't ask.

You take a look into his eyes, seeing concern. Then from the corner of your eye you see Wade turn his head an inch, trying to subtly listen in without giving away the fact that he cares about you.

"I'm.." You pause, feeling a knot in your throat, " I'm just really craving a burger."

"What the dick?!" Wade screams from the front, startling all of you in the car, and causing Dopinder to swerve, " We came here for emotional support goddamn it, let us support your emotions!!"

You chuckle at the outburst, mood momentarily lifting, " You can support me by getting me something to eat outside this taxi. It reeks back here...no offense Dopi"

"Non taken Ms. Stark, I am well aware of the unpleasant scents in the back."

Dopinder makes a stop at what looks like a local burger joint in the city , allowing you and Peter to take a breath of fresh air.

Or at least as fresh as Gotham city air could be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Manor, Christine and Bruce are having a long overdue conversation about you and her relationship.

" I just don't understand where everything went so wrong" Christine cried, face held in her hands," I just don't"

"Perhaps when you stopped visiting her when we adopted Dick" Bruce said in a semi sarcastic semi serious voice.

Christine shot a glare to her husband, " I'm glad you find the destruction of my relationship with my daughter funny Bruce, I really do."

Bruce sighs from where he's standing, " I don't find it amusing one bit, but Christine you have to admit this situation is your fault."

"I know it is! Believe me I know" Christine shouts, " These last few months, all I've been reminded is that it's my fault!"

"But where is your accountability?" Bruce asks, " I don't hold what you did against you because it's not my place. The kids don't because quite frankly, this hasn't affected them except for Cassie who thinks you're replacing her, and Damian, who sees you sad and believes Y/n is the sole cause of it."

Christine sighs, the few months you have been in the home, she has noticed Cassie's jealousy towards you and the resentment for the situation. She's done her best to reassure her that she has enough love for the two of you girls, but she still insisted on being as far away from you as possible. Damian...Damian is young and perceptive but difficult so she isn't so worried about him.

"If Y/n just spent time with them--"

"It isn't her responsibility to reassure your children that she isn't taking you away from them. Hell Christine, it isn't her responsibility to make anything easier for you." Bruce says impatiently, " I have been holding my tongue because you're my wife above anything and I am on your side. But being a husband and on your side means that I have a responsibility to tell you when you are wrong."

"Then tell me Bruce, tell me what I'm doing wrong. Please beacause every move I make, I just mess things up." Christine cries, genuienly asking for her husbands help

Bruce looks Christine in the eye, " Well first, you have to stop forcing your motherhood on that poor girl"

He holds a hand up before Christine can say anything, " I know that biologically you are her mother, but you know as well as I do that biological relation has no meaning."

Christine nods, allowing Bruce to continue

"The child you knew is not the young lady you want to get to know." Bruce says sternly, " She has life experiences that you were not a part of, and most of all she's not looking for a mother, Christine she has one. It's just not you."

Christine bursts into tears, the weight of that statement hitting her heart. Bruce gathers her in his arms.

"You need to get to know Y/n not as the child you left behind but as Y/n. That's what all of us need to do."

Christine weeps silently in her husbands chest, truly absorbing his words.

She knows he's right. He usually is.

But it hurts her. She truly has to acknowledge the one thing she has ever been ashamed about. The one thing that she has been repressing and repressing all these years.

That she abandoned you.

She abandoned you. She abandoned you when you were six and she didn't show up to the mothers day dance.

She abandoned you when you were eight and she promise dthat she would take you to get your ears pierced and she didn't show up because of a phone call.

And she abandoned you when you were nine, and she adopted Dick.

"What I don't think I understand is why?" Bruce asked quietly.

All these years, she said it was because she was needed more at the manor rather than in New York. But why did she really?

"Why?" Christine repeats quietly, " I..."

Why did she? What on earth possessed her to do the one thing she promised she'd never do the day you were born.

"I don't know." She says, " I.. spent years, hiding this huge secret from you. Years taking back and forth trips from here to New York, pretending she didn't exist or pretending like you didn't. I just..."

Bruce hums, urging her to continue

" And seeing the disappointment every time I left and didn't take her or disappointment from Tony that I didn't choose them. " She teared up, she hadn't even thought about the pain she put that man through, " Then it was the disappointment from Dick everytime I left. It got too.."

"Too hard." Bruce finished for Christine,

" Yeah," Christine sighed, " I just wanted to stop all the lying and the double lives, but by the time it became too much...it was too deep and I was scared I'd lose it all."

Bruce stayed quiet holding his wife, "I would've hoped that you had enough faith in me to tell me"

Christine scoffed, " Please, do you really believe that at that time you would've forgiven me? Before Damian?"

Bruce sighed, " I guess not."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the conversation between Bruce and Christine went on, the kids were having one of their own.

"I don't understand what's so good about her anyway" Cass mumbles, " All she's done since she's been here is cause trouble"

"Yeah like any of us made Ma's life easy since we got here?" Jason spits back defending you, " Dick you didn't even talk to Ma because of your fight with Bruce, I died, Tim didn't even consider her a mother for years, Damian..is damian and hated her for months, plus is a product of Bruce cheating, and you Cass, you almost killed her before you became family."

Everyone stayed silent as Jason basically read them to filth.

"Why?" Damian asks quietly, " Why does everyone like that girl so much?"

"She's just had a hard go of it Damian, just like all of us." Dick said softly, " Think about how you felt when your mother stopped coming around. When you came here and didn't know anyone."

Damian stayed quiet.

"I know you love Mom, I do too" Dick continued, " But the hostility towards Y/n has to end. From all of us."

They stood quiet, letting the words sink in.

"I have been quite pleasant towards her actually" Jason said smugly

"Yeah cause you think with your dick and not your brain" Tim said smartly, only to receive a slap on the back of his head.

"That's my sister you fucking idiot" Jason says angrily.

Dick smiled, glad that at least one person was truly and genuinely on your side in this house, even if it's not him.

" How about we take her out?" Dick says, " Both her and Mom need some space, there's no point in her staying in that room all day and night."

Jason nods," Yeah, that's actually a good idea."

The two oldest sons rise, about to head to you room when Damian speaks up

"You won't find her there."

The boys pause and look at him

"What did you do to her you demon?" Jason says suspiciously

Damian rolls his eyes, " I've done nothing of the sort, but I saw her sneak out and leave in a taxi with an Indian man, a man in a red suit and unfortunate looking face, and a teenager in hello kitty sleeping pants."

Silence.

"Okay, if you're having a stroke please let me know so I can take you to the hospital." Tim said looking concerned.

Damian rolled his eyes again, " She left."

Jason was already barging into your room not even bothering to knock, seeing your room empty and the window open.

"Fuck."

Dick raced in after him seeing the empty room

"Well fuck."

They look at eachother, wondering who was going to tell their mother that you were gone but it was actually Damian that suggested

"Perhaps we should go after her? Mother and Father seemed rather preoccupied at the moment."

Jason looked at Dick and said, " She couldn't have gotten too far."

"Well, it has been a couple hours since she left." Damian adds

"Hours?!" Dick shouts, " Damian why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't like her." Damian rolls his eyes.

"Where's Y/n?" a voice asks

All heads turned to the doorway, seeing their father standing there.

"Um... about that."

"Find her, and you all better hope she's okay."

Everyone scrambled, either to put their suits on or to just make it out of the house.

He said that with his Batman voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back with you and the red team, as Wade took to calling you all, you all were eating burgers in the parking lot of the now closed burger joint.

" So are you going to tell us what happend or what?" Wade ask with food falling from his stuffed mouth.

You and Peter look on with disgust.

"What?" Wade asks, " Go on and tell us about your mommy issues."

You roll your eyes and look away, missing the look Peter gives to Wade for being to crass.

You get lost in thought, the argument still fresh on your mind.

It made you so angry.

Why? Why did she hide those emails?

The one thing you wanted most in this whole situation was to go home. You missed your father, your mother, the team. Your family.

Instead, she made you believe that your father just forgot about you and your family didn't miss you.

While you knew logically that was impossible, you still stood up late at night because of the doubts creeping in. You cried, longing to hear your father croon rock music while he was tinkering with something, or the soft voice of your mother as she handled some business. You missed the smell of the training room and the sound of Steve teasing whoever he chose to tourture train that day. You missed FRIDAY. The tech. Your life.

"What happened in there" Peter asked softly.

You maintain eye contact with him for about a second before looking away, feeling ashamed with your emotional state.

"I couldn't take it anymore" You said softly, "These people...they weren't... they weren't mean to me or anything but I didn't belong there."

You take a pause then continue, " It's like... I had no purpose there. You know? At home, I help dad with whatever he needs, I helped mom with the business, hell I could just take a step outside. But here? I'm either in my room or being snuck out by Jason for a few hours. I can't go into a room without killing the happy family vibe they have going on. I'm just..."

You choke up, the knot in your throat growing, "I'm just a reminder of the past. Of the life she didn't want."

Peter's eyes soften even more, he reached out a comforting hand.

"I have to be there, while she and her family are happy then I walk in and it's like I'm either a ghost or a pest." You cry tears falling from your eye, " I feel so unwanted. I've never felt this way in my life."

"Didn't your mom abandon you?" Wade asks, getting an elbow to the side by Dopinder.

That comment causes you to cry more, but before Peter can make a move Wade actually pulls you in a hug.

"Alright Alright" Wade says, " Look kid, obviously you're happy there, so how about we go find those asshole that are looking for you and take them out ourselves?"

You sniff and look up at him, " What?"

"Yeah. That's the whole reason you're here. So lets kill those motherfucker and you can go home and forget this shit hole of a city. Seriously it's disgusting here."

You chuckle wetly, " It is gross here. I thought New york was bad"

The four of you laugh, the mood finally lifting.

But good moments never last forever.

Peter's head jerks up, face shifting from amusement to concern

"Guys there's something wro-" Peter gets cut off.

"How about we make it easier for you, now you don't have to look for us." A voice says, you aren't able to see it before you feel Wades body jerk and suddenly there's a pain in your arm.

You look down and see a dart, and you're barely able to make out the blue and red dots on the building across the street before darkness consumes you and you hit the ground.

sickly sweet

premise: becoming a monster was not how you saw your life going with the one you loved. but then eddie’s gone and you’re all alone. henry making sure to bring the both of you back together again.

pairing: vampire!eddie munson x (f)reader x vampire!henry creel

word count: 3k

warnings: eighteen+ content, blood and gore, dubcon (in the sense of reader not giving consent to be changed into a vampire), dark content-ish, endgame poly, mentions of eddie and henry hooking up, threesome illusions, choking, teasing, time skips, henry’s an ass.

etc: don’t ask me what this is but it just came to mind and was inspired by interview with a vampire a bit ok. eddie vamp edit credit goes to @cherubsfool.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

You’d like to say you remember how it happened but you don’t. You only remember waking to a scorching pain in the back of your throat and an insatiable thirst.

And then there was Eddie.

Eddie who you thought you had lost. Who you mourned. Still mourned for. Cried for. Called out for at night through sleepless tears.

Here he was alive and above you. A scowl of concern on his face.

“It’s going to be okay!”

When he touches your skin it burns. His touch is cold while your body feels like an inferno. Like molten lava is running through your veins burning down every nerve ending, blood cell, and organ in its way.

You know now that it was doing just that. Burning everything in its wake to rebuild you into something else. Something deadly and gruesome.

“I told you I didn’t want this!” Eddie’s voice is like hot led, it sears, makes your ears ring, sounds off. Too loud. Too angry to be his.

You’re too weak to turn your head. To watch his descent from beside you, a loud crash in the corner of the room, growls, angry words.

This is all wrong. Your Eddie is not an angry boy, he’s kind, has a good heart, soft, understanding.

Everything is wrong. The way you’re breathing. The weakness in your body. The burn, the sweat that’s pouring off of you as you twitch and ache. Your eyelids feel heavy, breath coming out in a hoarse brittleness that makes your chest shake; were you dying? Was this death? Is that why Eddie was here?

You try to open your mouth. To speak. To say Eddie’s name. To cry out. To do anything but you’re stationed in pain and soon all you see is black.

“I told you I didn’t want this!” The anger that’s flowing through his bloodless veins is enough to have him across the room in seconds, his hand around the blondes throat.

“Ooh,” Henry smirks, hands up in defense. Fangs still dripping your blood. The sight making Eddie’s nails dig into the skin of his neck. A gruff wince falling from the blondes lips. “If I knew this is all it would take to break you I would have done it ages ago.”

Henry’s laugh hit’s the spot where his heart used to be. A growl burning harshly in his throat.

Eddie never knew anger like this. Not before this. Before he became this thing—monster. But now all he felt is anger. Everyday. Anger and despair from the endless need, crimson, copper, ache.

And the desire to have you.

For you to be his again.

It was a dead end fantasy that only made the anger worse. Fed the despair as he fed off of others.

In a perfect world Eddie would present this new self to you and you’d love him despite it. You’d wrap your arms around him and welcome him into your warm embrace and he’d be able to breathe again. He’d feel whole. Found.

But then the wind would blow just right, your window left open late at night as you got ready for bed. His dark figure behind a tree as he watched you; the scent of you filling his lungs where air couldn’t. The scent of your blood…of other things he could smell more now that he was this.

And he’d be reminded why he couldn’t show himself. Why he couldn’t allow you to wrap your arms around him, embrace him, love him again because he’d hurt you.

Not intentionally. No never intentionally.

That monster inside of him that craved the copper drip from one’s flesh would have its teeth in your neck within seconds. He’d be draining you of your sweet blood, your delicious taste sedating him while your eyes grew more lifeless with each savory swallow.

He’d kill you.

You’d be dead like him, except there would be no coming back for you.

So he couldn’t get close. Ever.

He was dead to you and he had to stay that way. For your own good. Even if it made him want to wipe out an entire town with the anguish it caused. He would do anything to protect you, from himself, from others—from Henry.

But he failed.

The heavy smash of the blondes back against the wall has a man sized hole cracking into the drywall. The pictures on the wall shattering at their feet. A pretentious laugh slipping into the cracks of Eddie’s rage.

“Why?”

“I figured you were sick of watching her. It was getting a little…depressing.”

“I told you! I told you. Not her!”

“I know,” Henry makes a pitying face. Moves a strand of Eddie’s hair out of his line of sight, cold palm lingering at the apple of his cheek. “It broke my heart to watch how sad you were. We don’t sulk.”

“Bullshit.” It had been two years since Eddie was like this. Two years of living alongside Henry—the one who had changed him. Turned him into the same deadly beast that he was.

He had asked him once. While they sat in the obnoxious mansion Henry called home; they called home.

“Beauty shouldn’t be wasted on human life. Neither should the hatred I saw in your soul.” Henry had looped his finger around one of his curls, a look of amusement and fondness in his eyes. Eyes that Eddie remembers looking into as he pressed his wrist to his lips and told him to drink. Stealing away his life; a life that was nothing to write home about, but it had you in it.

And Henry took that away from him.

“You could always change her. If you miss her that badly.” Henry had told him one night after Eddie came home just before dawn. By now he knew where he was going every night. If he wasn’t walking the streets beside him hunting, he was watching you. “Might be nice to have another to play with.” The smirk that met Eddie’s scowl was sickening.

He didn’t trust Henry. Anyone who could kill so effortlessly and freely as he did, who could rip the throat of the lover in bed at the same time he gave them pleasure was not someone who deserved trust.

He should have known that this would happen. He should have left Henry’s side a long time ago. Freed himself of the torment, from the psychopath.

But maybe he had become a masochist. Maybe that’s what helped with his anger-filled-loneliness; Henry.

His cruel ways. His beautiful smile. His mouth. His tongue.

Eddie would be lying to himself if he said that the thought of turning you, having you by his side forever didn’t cross his mind. But your sweet smile, full of life and joy, the kindness that he remembers always being in your eyes, set him straight. Reminded him that you were not like him. Or Henry.

You were good and they were fucked.

Depraved beasts.

Bloodthirsty monsters.

You didn’t deserve a life like this.

He can hear how weak your lungs are. Can sense those last breaths hanging on, waiting to see if your organs are going to help, going to save you from eternal darkness.

“Times running out.” Henry reminds the obvious, his tone filled with that berating amusement Eddie wishes he wasn’t used to. He can smell the sweetness of your blood still lathered on his tongue as Henry leans closer to him, the fist around his neck doing little to deter him, to actually hurt him. His lips are inches from his, “don’t you want to taste her? Don’t you want to save her? She needs you Eddie.” The tips of his nails scrape against the side of his neck as Henry tries his best to be affectionate, to hit him where it counts—where he holds a sliver of that humanity still. That softness he never lost.

Henry knew how to use it against him in all the right, and wrong, ways.

“What’s done is done. Save her or let her die. Your choice, but we both know you needed me to do this.”

“No.” Eddie scowls at him, the urge to press his teeth into the blonde's neck and rip out a chunk making his fangs buzz.

“You’d never have the strength to do it yourself. To turn her the way you wanted. I can feel how badly you want it. Take it. Take her. Make her ours.” Henry smirks, “or should we drain her dry? Have you really grown so fond of me that you don’t need her anymore? I’m touched,” when he leans centimeters closer to press his lips to Eddie’s in a mocking kiss it has an animalistic noise coming from his throat as that boiling rage has him pushing Henry—enough to break the chest cavity of a human but only enough to have the blonde going the rest of the way through the wall, unharmed.

“Good boy.” Henry says happily through the rubble as Eddie disregards him completely, moving back to your side.

His freezing fingers run along your cheek, soak in the last bits of warmth that he can feel quickly slipping from your body. Your body that’s almost lifeless. That’s so very close to becoming unresponsive and gone forever. Floating on that plain of darkness that only exists after death. Alone. You’ll both be alone.

But, this way, you’ll finally be with him.

Fuck Henry.

But he can’t let you die. Not like this.

Even inches from death you look so pretty. Even as Eddie bites into his own wrist and holds it to your lips, letting his blood drip into your mouth; one drop, two, three, four, then your throat his moving. Swallowing him down. Taking the poison of a monster to save your own life.

“Good girl,” Eddie whispers. Hates that he smiles. Hates that he feels a fluttering of something he hasn’t in what feels like centuries when he see’s the blood taking. The poison mixing with the venom of Henry’s teeth and tongue—you’d be his again.

Finally.

That insatiable thirst you remember, the one that scorched the back of your throat had grown since that night; to something worse than hunger. Than desire.

It was a sickening need that would leave you doubling over, a growl of pain and demand for the bittersweetness of what used to flow through your veins. For what you now needed to drink to survive. To kill for to live.

You couldn’t say you were happy to have ended up like this. To have become something that people wrote about in books and teenage girls went gaga over—if only they knew how torturing-ly dark and immoral it was to be such a thing. To live a life of not being alive but not fully dead, somewhere in between forever.

Until you dried up from thirst or someone stuck a steak through your heart.

You weren’t ungrateful for Eddie’s choice. Could never hate him for it for doing what he had to do, for bringing the two of you back together.

At first you had been more than grateful. Had spent every waking moment in his arms, the idea of spending centuries at his side seemed like an easy trade off for breathing and a pumping heart.

But then the thirst came. The pain. The blood you had to spill to live out those centuries with Eddie.

The anger and distance followed.

The more you killed the less the idea of Eddie turning you into this became a saving grace—now seen to you as a curse he passed onto you.

Henry was at fault with all of this. He was the one who got the brunt of your anger.

Eddie acted with the humanity that was still in his dead heart.

Henry was acting on jealousy and pettiness.

Both had put you in a numbness rage that blossomed into something dark and gritty and terrifying in the eyes of your lover.

A year had gone by without you and Eddie so much as being close let alone occupying each other’s beds, arms, bodies.

He resented you for turning into the monster he created and you resented him for aiding your turn into that monster.

When Henry demanded the three of you sit and drink together, the expensive china he had swiped from a family of victims filled to the brim with blood drained from only the finest of veins, in each of your hands as you sat in silence—the record playing in the background the only noise in the room.

And where you could see it tearing Eddie up inside, could feel the pull, the push, the tug, in your unbeating heart to reach out for him, for him to do the same—you ignored it, but he let it solidify in stolen glances and silence that came from his parted lips each time he attempted to find the right words but came up short.

Henry was eating it up. Loving it. The tapping of his nail on the china as he smirked at the both of you, as he tried to get under your skin with jabs and teasing words; and tried to anger Eddie with picks and pokes about how gruesome your kills had been when you went out.

“She looks so good covered in blood.” His eyes giving your body a once over, “makes me wish I hit a vein when I sank my teeth in her. Cover her in her own sweetness and licked it up.”

And while you hated Henry, despised him, and the lack of heat in your body made it hard to warm at words or blush; it did not stop the burn that happened between your legs each time he gave you that look, or cornered you in the hall and let his teeth scrape against your neck until you pushed him away, or how each time he accompanied you on a kill and blood trickled down his chin you found yourself wanting to lean over and lick it off of him.

It was hard to tell if Henry wanted to fuck you to spite Eddie or because he actually wanted you.

Sadly both turned you on.

Eddie had been the only boy you had been with and even after your untimely death he was still the only one.

Nights when you laid in the bed you could never use for sleeping, you thought of him, of letting this bitterness and rage slip and crawl into his bed—to feel his lips once again on yours, his touch, his tongue between your thighs.

But then you’d remember the look he’d given you when you’d come home one night covered in blood, darkness in your eyes, hair and skin from your helpless victims still under your finger nails; the look that let you know he had regretted changing you, bringing you back together, the look you’d give to a monster.

“Don’t be so squeamish, Eddie.” Henry had said as he leaned against the banister smirking down at the two of you. Chuckling as Eddie retreated down the hall, a door slamming behind him.

That had been the figurative nail in the coffin that pushed that distance even further to the point of silent aching.

And no matter how much you ached and hurt, rage and all: Eddie still had your heart. You’d never wish to betray him.

No matter how enticing Henry made it.

Even with your back pressed against the dirty wallpaper right now, his hands on either side of your head, lips so so close to yours.

“I know you're lonely,” a pause, a smirk, “and wet. I can smell it.” His knee slots itself between your thighs, the fabric of his pants hitting your covered cunt as the top of his thigh pushes up the bottom of your dress, making you swallow down a pathetic noise.

“You’re sickening.” You sneer, giving him a scowl.

“Why do you care what he thinks? Has he told you that he used to be in my bed every night before you came along.”

His words are meant to sting and they do. They hit exactly where he had them aimed and it has that rage simmering in your decaying chest cavity.

“Fuck off, Henry!”

He chuckles, “there’s that rage.” His lips are inches from yours now, a hand sliding down the wall to press a thumb at the corner of your mouth. “Fuck, I love it. Eddie’s so disturbingly sweet, just as he tastes. But you,” his hand trails down your chin to the column of your neck, his fingers wrapping around it. “You’re just as fucked up as me.”

“No,” you shake your head. Feel the added pressure he puts on your throat. Try not to let it affect you, try to focus on the rage, on anything other than the throbbing that’s burning your cold flesh. “I’m nothing like you.”

You choke on air when his grip grows tight enough to have your fingers move to his hand and try to pry them off. “It’s not an insult, don’t be rude. I made you. I can end you.” His forehead is on yours, nose to nose, lips brushing yours as he speaks. Other hand falling between your legs to run his nails up your thigh, “but it’d be a waste when all three of us could be do something so much more fun.”

And when his lips press to yours, his grip on your neck loosening, your fist is balled to push him away, but then you’re doing the opposite; leaning into him, kissing him back. Feeling that rage morph into that same need you get when you’re hungry—the need for flesh, to sink your teeth into something, to feel something.

“Care to join us, Eddie?” He’s saying when he pulls away. That hunger in you makes something inside of you plummet when you look behind him and meet Eddie’s eyes.

You expect an excuse to come. For the forgiveness and begging to come but it doesn’t.

Maybe it’s from the lack of rage in Eddie’s eyes and the understanding and lust that fills them instead.

Maybe it’s how an entirely new hunger is building inside of you.

Whatever it is has you opening your mouth and saying, “please.”

Henry turning back to look at him, giving him the softest smile you think he could ever fake, as he says, “remind us what it’s like to be sweet.”