#smart e bike

[anthonylewis2290]

Exploring the Exciting World of DYU Foldable E-Bikes!

The e-bike industry is booming, and one brand that's truly standing out is DYU! Known for their innovative designs and exceptional quality, DYU foldable e-bikes are perfect for urban commuting and leisure rides. These stylish and compact e-bikes are designed to make your life easier and more enjoyable.

With the ability to fold up, DYU e-bikes provide incredible convenience for those who want to save space or take their bike on public transportation. The lightweight structure makes it easy to carry and store, while the powerful battery ensures you can travel long distances effortlessly.

Not only do DYU foldable e-bikes offer practicality, but they also come with a range of features that enhance your riding experience, including adjustable seats, smart displays, and various speed settings. Whether you're navigating through city streets or enjoying a leisurely ride in the park, DYU has the perfect e-bike for you.

Join the e-bike revolution and discover the joy of riding with DYU! Embrace a greener lifestyle and enjoy the freedom that comes with owning a foldable e-bike. Happy riding!

[kendraross2679]

Exploring the Thriving E-Bike Industry with DYU

The e-bike industry is experiencing a remarkable surge, and one brand that stands out is DYU. As cities continue to evolve, the demand for sustainable and efficient transportation solutions has never been greater. Electric city bikes are becoming a popular choice for commuters looking to navigate urban landscapes with ease and style.

DYU is at the forefront of this movement, offering a range of electric city bikes that combine innovative technology with sleek design. Their models are not only eco-friendly but also provide a fun and enjoyable riding experience. With features like lightweight frames, powerful motors, and long-lasting batteries, DYU bikes are perfect for both short trips and longer adventures around the city.

Riding an electric city bike from DYU allows individuals to explore their surroundings while reducing their carbon footprint. These bikes are equipped with comfortable seating and smart technology, making them ideal for riders of all ages. Whether you're commuting to work, running errands, or simply enjoying a leisurely ride, DYU's electric city bikes provide a fantastic way to embrace the outdoors.

Moreover, the affordability and accessibility of DYU bikes make them a great choice for anyone looking to transition to a more sustainable mode of transport. As more people recognize the benefits of electric city bikes, the future looks bright for the e-bike industry and brands like DYU that are leading the charge. Join the revolution and experience the joy of riding an electric city bike today!

[irene-hanscom]

Exciting Innovations in the 20 Inch E-Bike Industry: Spotlight on DYU!

The e-bike industry is rapidly evolving, and one of the standout brands making waves is DYU. Known for their commitment to quality and innovation, DYU offers an impressive range of 20 inch e-bikes that cater to both casual riders and commuting enthusiasts.

What sets DYU apart is their focus on user-friendly designs and advanced technology. Their 20 inch e-bikes are lightweight, easy to maneuver, and perfect for urban environments. With features like powerful motors, long-lasting batteries, and smart connectivity, DYU ensures that every ride is enjoyable and efficient.

Moreover, the compact size of the 20 inch e-bikes makes them ideal for navigating through crowded streets and parking in tight spaces. Whether you're commuting to work, running errands, or just enjoying a leisurely ride, DYU's e-bikes are designed to enhance your experience.

Join the growing community of DYU e-bike enthusiasts and discover the joy of riding a 20 inch e-bike. Embrace the future of transportation with DYU, where innovation meets convenience!

Sent from my iPhone using DYU Forum

[raeeindustriesus]

Revolutionizing Urban Mobility: The Rise of Smart Bikes and E-Scooters

In the ever-evolving landscape of urban transportation, smart bikes and e-scooters have emerged as game-changers, offering convenient, eco-friendly alternatives to traditional modes of commuting. As cities grow more congested and the need for sustainable transportation solutions becomes increasingly urgent, these innovative vehicles are gaining popularity at a remarkable pace. Let's delve into the world of smart bikes, folding electric scooters, and the accessories that are transforming the way we navigate our urban environments.

Smart Bikes: Redefining Commuting Experience

Smart bikes represent a fusion of cutting-edge technology and practical design, making them a compelling choice for urban commuters. These bikes are equipped with a range of features such as GPS navigation, integrated locks, and smartphone connectivity, allowing riders to plan routes, track their rides, and even locate nearby docking stations with ease. With the rise of bike-sharing programs in cities worldwide, smart bikes offer a convenient and sustainable transportation solution for short-distance travel.

One of the key advantages of smart bikes is their versatility. Whether you're commuting to work, running errands, or simply exploring the city, these bikes provide a flexible and efficient means of transportation. Additionally, with the growing emphasis on health and wellness, many riders appreciate the opportunity to incorporate physical activity into their daily routines by opting for pedal-assist or electric smart bikes.

E-Scooters: Navigating Urban Landscapes with Ease

In recent years, e-scooters have taken urban mobility by storm, offering a fun and convenient way to navigate city streets. With their compact size and agile handling, e-scooters are ideal for short-distance trips, providing an efficient alternative to walking or driving. Powered by electric motors, these scooters offer a smooth and silent ride, making them particularly well-suited for urban environments where noise and pollution are concerns.

One of the defining features of e-scooters is their accessibility. With the rise of scooter-sharing services, riders can easily locate and unlock scooters using smartphone apps, allowing for seamless and on-demand transportation. Whether you're commuting to work, meeting friends for dinner, or exploring a new neighborhood, e-scooters offer a convenient and eco-friendly way to get around.

Smart Bike Accessories: Enhancing Convenience and Safety

To complement the experience of Smart Bike Wheels Accessories is available to enhance convenience, safety, and functionality. From smartphone mounts and USB chargers to integrated lights and helmets, these accessories are designed to optimize the riding experience and ensure rider safety.

GPS bike trackers are particularly valuable for smart bike users, providing peace of mind by allowing riders to locate their bikes in real-time in the event of theft or loss. Similarly, accessories such as reflective gear and helmet-mounted lights enhance visibility, making nighttime riding safer and more secure.

Adult Scooters: Embracing Sustainable Mobility

While e-scooters are often associated with short-distance travel and urban commuting, adult scooters offer a versatile and eco-friendly mode of transportation for riders of all ages. With their lightweight design and foldable frames, Adult Electric Mobility scooters are easy to carry and store, making them an excellent choice for urban dwellers with limited space.

Whether you're navigating crowded city streets or cruising along scenic bike paths, adult scooters offer a fun and efficient way to get from point A to point B. With the option to choose between manual scooters or electric models, riders can tailor their experience to suit their preferences and needs. In conclusion: Smart bikes, e-scooters, and adult scooters are revolutionizing urban mobility, offering convenient, eco-friendly alternatives to traditional modes of transportation. With their advanced features, accessibility, and versatility, these vehicles are reshaping the way we navigate our cities, paving the way for a more sustainable and connected future.

[greentechspot]

Bike Lanes and Beyond: Innovations Shaping the Future of Cycling in Urban Landscapes

In the ever-evolving landscape of urban design and transportation, the resurgence of cycling has captured the imagination of city planners, environmentalists, and health-conscious citizens alike. As urban areas grapple with congestion, pollution, and the imperative to create more sustainable modes of transportation, the humble bicycle has risen to the forefront of discussions. However, it’s not…

[wizardsreviews]

The Benefits of Owning an E-Bike: Why You Should Buy One Today

The Benefits of Owning an E-Bike: Why You Should Buy One TodayElectric bikes, or e-bikes, have ended up being more popular than ever before. They are the best mix of conventional biking and modern-day innovation, making them the best choice for anyone searching for an effective, environmentally friendly way to get around town. If you’re on the fence about purchasing an e-bike, here are some…

[bsmartelectric]

What Are The Facts About E-Bike And Scooters?

Have you ever gotten annoyed by the sound of bikes? You want to save your fuel expenses and are concerned about the environment. Therefore, e-bikes and scooters are the best things for you. It is not a thing to remember that you have to take care of your environment. Electric bikes are the next thing that has the potential to decrease air pollution. Nowadays, it is super easy to notice electric scooters on the road, and it's the future of the coming generations. The blog will tell you the facts about electric bikes.

Top 3 Interesting Features About E Bike And Scooter

As you know, smart e-bikes work on stored electricity and do not need to combust engines to run. So they are free from noise while riding. Here are the points which will elaborate on the features of electric bikes.

1. The Hassle-Free Operation

E bike and scooter are free from the tension of refueling and frequent visits to gas stations. Additionally, you are saved from changing gears in traffic. It is designed so that you can ease it out from traffic with style. Also, it is lightweight.

2. Extremely Easy For Maintenance

Thereis no rocket science behind giving proper attention to e bike and scooter. Apart from saving your time, it saves money on fuel consumption as well as on its maintenance. There won’t be any bike problems which you can face. It is a known fact that electric bikes have gained popularity in recent years.

3. Features Not Less Than Fuel Bike

You can’t say that there is any slight or major difference in the features of electric bikes or fuel bikes to fulfill your expectations. The new generation bikes can also race like fuel bikes. Additionally, it has batteries that can be charged overnight to provide full-day services.

Buy Your E-Bike And Scooter Now!

Electric scooters can be seen everywhere and have become a common name in everyone's mouth. Moreover, electric bikes come with excellent dashboard features and futuristic features. It has GPS which can locate your bike with your smartphone. If you are searching for an e-bike top, contact B Smart Electric. They perform hassle-free delivery of your preferred electric motorcycle. Feel free to contact them and know about their services.

[ellemaru]

"I Like Your Bike"

Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: On your way back to the hotel with friends, a shiny black motorcycle that belongs to a mysterious serviceman catches your attention.

Word Count: 1,289 Cw | Mentions of alcohol and intoxication

A/N: The character is implied to be black, but you can imagine them however you like !

Drunken laughter mingled with the sounds of other chatter on the bustling street as you walked with your 2 girlfriends and talked with each other, recapping your first day in Manchester, England, and the first out of many stops on the two-month-long trip in Europe. Your heels had become uncomfortable long ago, making you ever so grateful that you had been smart enough to think to bring a pair of flats along as you indulged in Manchester’s nightlife. The group had barhopped and chatted with strangers all night, getting the full Manchester experience as everyone explored the city and took in the views.

As the group neared their hotel, something shiny appeared in the corner of your eye, causing you to slow down your walking speed, the swinging heels in your hand slowing down as your strides did. Your brown eyes narrowed slightly as you tried to make out what the thing was, struggling due to the fact that it was night and you were nearsighted. As you tapped your friend’s shoulder and began to walk toward the unknown object, your eyes adjusted slightly, realizing it was a motorcycle, one of the nice, slick, black ones.

You mindlessly began to run your hand along the smooth and shiny exterior of the motorcycle until a voice popped you out of the trance.

“Mate, you can’t just touch random people's bikes,” 

When you looked up, you were met with a brick wall in the form of a man. He stood around 6’3 and was obviously jacked based on the way his compression shirt hugged his pectoral muscles and biceps. His bright hazel eyes practically had you hooked already, was it the alcohol, or were they that pretty? No one knows, but you did know that this guy was HOT.

“Uhhh, I um,” you giggled and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before remembering that 

You are NOT Debby Ryan and you are NOT on Radio Rebel

You forgot to lay the lace down again by your ear when you installed your wig earlier

The man cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at you, the action slightly concealed by the black balaclava he wore that had a skull print on it, an interesting choice considering the heat.

“Are you not hot in that mask?”

“Did you not notice your friends aren’t here anymore?” he replied with a teasing tone. 

When you turn around, you see that your friends have indeed left you with the mysterious man and continued on to their hotel.

“Lass, I think you need some better friends,” he let out a quick chuckle, like…the personification of haha.

“Your laugh is funny,” you giggle as you lean in closer to him, looking at the metal tags that hang around his neck. 

“Simon Riley,” you read his name slowly as you looked up, tilting your head to the side slightly, wondering if it was actually his name or if he was wearing a deceased relative's dog tags. He nodded as he looked back down at the smaller woman. They sat in silence for several awkward moments before you decided to break the silence.

“I like your bike,”

“Thanks,” annnnd it was back to silence again

“You don’t talk much,”

“Not much to talk about with a random drunk lass I’ve met,”

“Fair point…What kind of bike is that?” that question was all you needed to get Simon’s attention.

That one question led to a whole conversation as he explained the ins and outs of his bike which was apparently a Yamaha R1 but other than that, he was fluent in yapping. The only thing you were focused on was his deep voice, thick British accent, and the way his compression shirt hugged all the right places on his torso. It seemed he didn’t even notice that you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes, mainly due to the fact that you had drunk way too much earlier. 

“Wanna go for a ride?” he asked you as he leaned against his bike.

The first thing that ran through your mind was “What kind of ride”.

“Huh?”

“I asked do you want to ride my motorcycle with me, like, do you want to be my backpack?” he asked again, giving his signature, stereotypical haha laugh.

“Oh uhh sure! I mean um that sounds like fun or whatever,” when you caught yourself seeming too eager, you changed up the way you phrased your sentence quickly.

When he turned around to give you a jacket and a helmet, he patted his pockets like he always does when he’s missing something before groaning from annoyance and pinching the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand.

“Well, I unfortunately don’t have an extra jacket or helmet on me right now so it seems we won’t be doing any riding today, but we could always do it another time I guess, dunno,” he mumbled the last part, “How long will you be here in Manchester?” he inquired, wondering how much time he would have before you would leave the city and the country

“I think we’re going to be here for at least another week,” you shrug as you see him frantically pull out his phone, almost dropping it once before he hands it to you, the contact screen open. Once you two exchange numbers, silence falls upon the two of you again.

“I could walk you back to your hotel if you would like, I don’t like the idea of you walking alone at night, especially as a tourist. Plus my mom would kill me if she found out I didn’t offer,” he laughs as he holds out his arm towards you.

“That would be nice,” you smile as you hook your arm in his, your brown skin contrasting with his pale one. He quickly unhooks his arm to place his leather jacket over your shoulders before linking arms again and heading on your way to the hotel. During the walk back, the two of you got to know each other, learning about interests and current status in life along with cracking jokes and just breaking the ice. It was about a 15-minute walk back to the hotel and once the two of you got back, you sighed, a little sad that your time together was already over for the day.

“We’re here. Thank you for walking me back to my hotel again, it was really sweet of you to do this because you really didn’t have to,”

“Of course, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t offer?” he snapped a flower from a nearby plant and handed it to you, “a pretty flower for the pretty lass,” he winked as you took it.

“Ugh, you Brits are such charmers, I’m quite sad to say that it worked too,” you both laughed for a few moments as he unlinked your arms.

“You free tomorrow at 19:00?”

“I’m so glad I understand military time, and yes I am,”

“Alright lass, I’ll be here in the lobby then, make sure you’re on time,” he gently takes your hand in his gloved one and kisses it through his balaclava. He gives one more wink before he turns on the heels of his combat boots and strides confidently out of the hotel. You stood there, absolutely shocked at what occurred before you realized you still had on his leather jacket. You ran outside to find him and tell him he had forgotten his jacket, but by that time, he had already disappeared into the cool Summer night. At least that meant you were guaranteed to see him tomorrow because there was no way he would just forget the nice leather jacket.

[fryingpan1234567]

DC high school au… mayhaps…..

I’m not sure if anyone’s done this before

But I’m doing it now

So the JL, right. These are famous alumni who made school history and now obvi they’re billionaires and reporters and museum owners but they’re not superheroes— just regular people

Liiike Clark Kent was the best quarterback the school has ever seen

Oliver Queen essentially revolutionized the archery team

Diana Prince convinced the school to start a fencing league

Barry Allen slayed both track and any and all chemistry competitions thrown his way

Arthur Curry… I shouldn’t have to say anything about his swim team career. That’s where he met his wife

Bruce Wayne was one of the smartest people probably ever, especially to grace that building

And so on and so forth

Anyways so these people are famous, and they’re up on the walls and display cases and shit

The staff!! Was so thrilled!! To be getting their children!!!!

(The principal counted down the days on his calendar after the news hit that Brucie adopted his first kid)

So.

Dick and Barbara are seniors. Dick is the cheer captain and Babs WAS on the team until a fun little accident that has her wheelchair-bound. (It’s fine, she discovered she actually likes computers better. She’d hacked the entire security system one day at lunch because she got bored)

Dick is kind of the queen bee of the school, which is hilarious, because he KNOWS but refuses to let it get to his head. This man will start water gun fights in the hallways for fun

Jason and Cass are juniors

Jason is one of the drama club’s absolute best (singing and acting). He played Billy Flynn in Chicago, Prince Charming in Cinderella, Aladdin in… yeah. He slays pretty hard

Cass is on the dance team and regularly misses class for some competition or another. Sometimes, when cheerleaders and the dance team collab on stuff (like assemblies), she actually likes the pompoms. She does not like the skirts.

Tim, Steph, and Duke are sophomores— people are s c a r e d of these three

Tim is known for constantly having a stockpile of energy drinks in his locker; sometimes a few of his friends get access to it. He’s also terrifyingly smart. And he’s got a bike. SOPHOMORE YEAR. TIM WHAT

Steph’s whole entire TikTok presence is lifting/ workout challenges against any poor scrub who tries to go up against her. She can lift the same amount as Jason Todd. That gives her a very confident “don’t fuck with me aura” around school, which is good, because she’s got zero interest in any guy there anyways (bi f pref queen)

And Duke… Duke is the golden boy, so the first time you see him in a sparring match with any of his siblings (they do that for fun at lunch), you’re very shocked to see him holding his own against Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown. He also slays

Damian is the only freshman in his family. Jason and Tim make fun of him endlessly

It is pretty impressive that a freshie organized the biggest fundraiser the school has ever seen— and it was for local animal shelters. Nobody knows how he did it. Probably intimidation. You never know with that kid

Now the superfam. Ohoho, yes, these legends go to that school too

Kara is a junior, Kon is a sophomore, Jon is a freshman. They’re all on the football team (their dad comes to every game🥰)

Did anybody expect a woman or freshman to land on the varsity team the first year either of them tried out? No. But they made it anyways. Good for them

And football is just so different from their day-to-day personalities, sometimes it gives people whiplash

Kara pretty much runs the broadcast and yearbook teams, and she does it along with dominating the football field and gym

Conner looks like he’d deck you for looking at him wrong (I mean he might but like he won’t… probably), and he’s like. He makes good fashion choices. He’s the Bad Boy, which is funny considering his nerdy bf is the one with the motorcycle

Jon is fluffy?? So nice?? Sir who let an actual decent person on the varsity football team?? When someone spots Dami wearing his letterman at some point, they become the most popular couple at school. As freshmen. Slay for them tbh

Donna Troy is a senior. Fencing and beauty pageants is a weird combination. But she knows she’s pretty and she’s gonna make damn sure everybody else knows too

Cassie is a freshie, but she’s already on the fencing team as well and several people have seen her sparring with Damian (wHERE did he get KATANAS), and it looks like a couple of war gods who happen to be fifteen are fighting to the death for a few yards of shitty grass behind the school

Conner Hawke, Artemis Crock, Emiko Queen, Roy Harper, and Mia Dearden are the archery team captains. Yeah, there’s five of them, yeah, the coaches couldn’t pick because the kIDS ARE BETTER THAN THEM

(Ollie laughed so hard he fell out of his chair when they came home and told him that)

Roy is a junior and definitely brings his bow everywhere he shouldn’t. He also “accidentally” shot Jason once. Whenever someone asks about their meetcute they just laugh until the person gets scared and runs away

Conner is a sophomore but a bitter old man in his soul. What a king

Artemis is also a sophomore and everyone thinks she’s Ollie’s favorite because she’s like a mini-him, but Ollie doesn’t actually HAVE a favorite and she finds this claim hilarious

Mia, third sophomore, has a very strange attraction to the color yellow. She LOVES it. And she actually pulls it off, how awesome is she

Emi is a freshman but gets along with Dami pretty well, which isn’t surprising considering their matching deadpan humor and lowkey murderous rage constantly

Jackson Hyde broke Arthur’s record for fastest lap on his fourth try. He spends more time at the ocean than literally anywhere else

Wally West and Bart Allen are technically not related?? They’re like. Cousins. But Barry ended up officially adopting Wally (long story)

Anyways they’re actually cousins with Jesse Quick

The three of them DOMINATE track and field/ cross country/ physics club (yeah you read that last one right don’t even with me)

Wally is a senior and working towards becoming a forensic scientist for the cops. When someone asks why the fuck he wanted to do that to himself, he always jokes, “I’m not fast enough to be a serial killer so I guess I’ll help catch ‘em” and everyone is scared

Bart is a sophomore but should be a freshie, because he’s almost a full year younger, except that he skipped fifth grade and went straight to sixth. Tim and Kon pretend to be his adoptive parents and it’s like a soap opera watching these three act out a dramatic divorce arc

Jesse is a junior (alliteration go brr) but a younger one (summer birthday WOO) she definitely takes after Barry, especially in speed

SO people call their friend groups chaotic. What are you gonna do, go up and fuck with any of them? Bad idea

For fun, these assholes run a fight club after school with betting and rosters and everything, with anyone who signs up. FOR FUN. Once the batkids learned their dad has a black belt in like six different martial arts, it was all over

They say it’s a good workout

They’re probably not wrong, but still

Who the fuck wakes up and chooses violence on all their friends and family all in good fun to make MONEY OFF OF BEATING THEM UP

The most viral videos taken from their school is a push-up contest with all eight batkids, seven competing, Babs filming

Cass won.

LET me know if you want more for this. Because I’m gonna write more. But if you had specific suggestions or characters or scenarios or questions, I would love to write them

Good morning/ night/ 4am!! (PS BACK TO SCHOOL WOO)

[renren-006]

How do you feel about nsfw? If you don’t mind it would you write nsfw headcanons/abcs for Daryl Dixon? If you don’t like nsfw (which is completely fine and understandable) maybe just headcanons of Daryl pining after naive reader? No pressure and please don’t overwork yourself. Remember that you always come first and that if you don’t feel like writing or creating something it’s completely ok. Thanks in advance! 💜💜💜

ABC| NSFW Daryl x reader

happy October everyone! a/n: i prob will write your other idea too, i loved both of them way too much!! You are so sweet thank you for your kind words omg!!! i love getting sweet messages from you guys! thank you for your support and for your request!! I know its taken me a bit to do school has been absolutely crazy busy! hope you enjoy!

HEY! THIS IS A BIT SMUTTY SO PLEASE READ WITH YOUR OWN REGARD AND IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 MAYBE DO NOT READ IT

A (Aftercare): Daryl is definitely the type to clean you up first and then put you in some comfy pjs before he even thinks about himself. I have a feeling this man would run down to get you water, naked, the moment you asked. 

B (Body part): Thighs, ass, boobs. I dont think this man would pick a favorite but if he did it would be those. He loves to worship all of you and make you feel like your a goddess in the body you inhabit. 

C (Cum): Like I said hes good a cleaning up wich probably means he likes to make messes aka making you a mess. 

D (Dirty Secret): Why do i feel like he definitely has a fantasy of him fucking you on his bike. I mean the man goes everywhere on his damn bike, why would he not want to please you on his favorite thing. (Hes thought about doing it on runs before and just pulling into the woods to do so) E (Experienced): He may know what to do but I think both of you found your way with sex together. While we all fawn over Daryl hes definitely the type thats not well experienced with girls but damn does he get good with you. F (Fav Position): i think given everything missionary is the way to go for both of you. Plus Daryl the type to only let a few in emotionally and then let you in, he definitely wants to see you when you two have sex. Hes not the degrading type. 

G (Goofy) : Daryl is serious in the moment, maybe a few giggles from you but hes all about pleasing you and making sure you feel good. Plus darly is really bad at telling jokes when he's not meaning too so, best to keep things professional

H (Hair): While his head hair is messy and long, Darly is good about keeping things neat, especially since he started this serious side of your relationship. He doesn't care at all how you look but he wants to make sure hes looking good for you, he likes to please. 

I (Intimacy): romantically Daryl is a pleaser. He wants to make sure everything he does pleasures you and makes you feel good. Course he doesn't mind at all when you do the same for him but most of the time he focuses on you. J (masturbation): Daryl doesn't have that much time to do things by himself with the way the community always needs help, or someone's lurking around that shouldn't. Plus when he does have time he puts that toward you.  K (kink): He's probably into bondage, choking, and whatever you are into. L (location): Darly likes doing it in your bed but he obviously also doesn't mind pulling over with his motorcycle or car and fucking you senseless in the woods. 

M (motivation): Seeing you fresh out or in the shower definitely turns him on. I think (he wont admit it) but whenever your out and you have to take on walkers, seeing you just fight you way through them definitely does something to this man. You protecting yourself and showing off how smart and strong you are is 100% a turn-on for this man. Oh and whenever you take charge in the bedroom would get him going for sure. 

N (no, hard limits): Anything that could hurt either of you, weapons being involved is a no-go. For Daryl thats strictly apocalypse work things and he wants to keep the bedroom free of weapons (even if you fighting to turn him on, doesn't mean he wants it involved). He wants the space between the two of you to be sensual and sexual not dangerous. being degrading is the only hard limit for either of you, daryl is not the type to do that because of how he was raised and who he is. 

O (oral): he 100% loved giving, anything to please his woman. He wont fight you if you want to help him but he much prefers doing you. 

P (pace): Depends on what the two of you are doing, but darly likes going hard and slow for you so you feel everything and feel your best. If he's in a horny mood and he wants you fast and to get you to come as much as possible he'll go faster and harder. 

Q (quickies): Days when the two of you are so busy or on the road are perfect for you two, even if you love the longer sensual times with each other. Neither of you hates them but spending longer amounts of alone time together is preferred. There have been times you were almost caught on runs doing it in the back seat of the car because you had been out for days. Those were not fun times almost being caught. 

R (risk): The only risk you two are taking is on runs getting frisky in the backseat after days and days on the road. Even before when the two of you would run off into the woods together because neither of you could take it any longer you always ran the risk of others seeing, hearing or finding you. No one ever does but there have been times its almost happened. S (stamina): Daryls got a lot of stamina, i mean he could go for a long time or even do you a few hours later and still not tire. I think you might be the only one keeping Daryl from fucking you all hours of the night. 

T (toys) : Usually no because well it is the apocalypse and no electronic toys work others have been sitting in shops getting dirty for years that the two of you make up, and honestly prefer it just being your bodies working. The only “toy” is probably the use of handcuffs, which Darly stole an extra pair from Rick once or twice for the night. He acts like he doesn't know but Ricks is fully aware. 

U (unfair, teasing) : Daryl loves teasing you on runs, in public or even when he really shouldn't. Most of the time you wait till you get home to make him fuck you all night but there are times you just can't handle it and make him find a spot to put the teasing to real life. 

V (volume): When you're alone in your house in Alexandria you typically don't have to contain your volume but the two of you have become so used to being quiet that normally your voices don't rise very loud. In any circumstance the two of you had on the road made it so you learned how to be shit up by Daryl. W (wild card):  I think Daryl has fucked you on his bike before! That's the wild card!

X (x-ray): if you really want to know, Daryls a good size like 6 inches probably and god if your obsessed with his arms, hes toned everywhere! Y (yearning): I think Daryl has a high sex drive around you and always teases you and wants you but has to contain himself. Before he met you he didn't but now that hes emotionally and romantically involved he definitely wants to be with you a lot. Zzz (sleep): I think both of you fall asleep pretty quickly afterward if it's a long night of being together but for quickies, no you don't fall asleep.

[jasonsknight3]

Welp, it’s time, the new story has officially begun. This story takes place in Arkham knight. The Halloween that ruined so many lives and brought o the worst of the worst. However, what part do you play in it? How do you fit into the story? Well, fear not because I have to e answer.

Side note: this story is planed to literally take place during the time of the Arkham game and comic book. I will keep it as accurate as possible however, I will be taking and changing some things because I’m adding you in it. It will largely stay the same though. Enjoy!

The longest night

Chapter one

“Memory lane”

Jason. The closest thing to love you felt. Being with him felt good. Even though you were only 15, you felt that you could marry the guy. A match made in heaven. He was your voice when you couldn’t speak up, you were his reason when he had none. The emotional connection between you two was undeniable. Jason was also Robin, a hero, a boy with a heart of gold. Maybe that’s why you felt for him. Despite his rough upbringing and living on his own from 13-15 with his troubles his heart had golden roots.

Shrugging on your jacket, you left your apartment to buy a week's worth of groceries like you usually do every Monday. The fall air was a little nippy but not too bad. The only downside was there wasn’t much foliage in gothams cores so, no colorful leaves to be found unless you went outside the city. The walk to the store is a good fifteen minute walk, your family only had one car to share between the parents and you hadn’t paid your monthly bus pass card yet so, that’s not an option either. However, a nice long walk was just the medicine to clear the chaos at home from your mind. Your family wasn’t bad, not at all. You loved your mom and dad and they you. It’s just that money is extremely tight. Sometimes parents argue. Say things. That’s just how it is.

Whistling a tune the sound of an engine slowing down a little too close for comfort made you pause and turn your eyes to whoever was deciding to cause trouble. All of the unsure feeling melted away the moment you laid eyes on a familiar face. “Well if it isn’t trouble chaser Todd.” You comment with a wide grin. “You flatter me, such high praise (y/n)” he replied, sliding off his bike helmet and setting it down to rest between his legs on his bike with a lopsided grin. “So, where’s a girl like you heading on this…fine evening?” He asked, mimicking a British accent. “I happen to be going to the market on this chilled eve.” You respond in the same manner. “Would thou like an escort fair maiden?” Laughing, you drop the accent. “This fair maiden would love a ride.” Jason held out the biker helmet to you “your chariot awaits.” The helmet was a little big but still would do its job. Jason was special, Everyone would know that if they just took a closer look. He was smart, loved literature, funny, and kind. The ride was nice, clinging to Jason, your head resting against his back as the wind blew your jacket behind you. Since Jason showed up tonight, everything felt like a moment to remember, a moment to think about when you felt low. A core memory. Pulling into the parking lot, he shut off the engine and kicked the motorcycle's kick stand before helping you dismantle the bike.

Walking inside “Got the list?” Jason asked, pulling his hand out of his pocket to take it. “Yea, I got it.” Handing him the list his eyes read over the scratchy writing. “This is the same list from last Monday.” Jason stated his eye locking with yours. “Well, it's cheap and still keeps us fed. Besides, even with all three of us working, my mom, dad and I make only enough to get by.” Looking over the list again he smiled. “I think I can spice up your food selection a little.” You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to the punch. “And before you say “oh you don’t have to do that” I know. I can and want to.” The smile and warmth you felt in your heart was involuntary. Throwing an arm around your shoulder he said “Come on, let’s go get some good stuff.”

As you went through the isles you guys talked about your week so far. His was the usual excitement, fighting crime, school, all the things. Yours was the same as usual as well, school, work, a few screaming fights between the parents about money. Jason enjoyed giving you small gifts and little things here and there for you. Jason selected some produce, fruits, healthy and unhealthy foods. After checking out a d bagging the items it was time for the awkward ride home. It was a small struggle, you held on to a few plastic bags, some evenly divided on the handle of the bike. You had to stop only once to pick up the bags you dropped. Honestly, you were impressed with how well you both did hanging on after the one incident. When you guys got to your home, Jason helped you and your mom unpack the groceries and put them away. Your mom liked Jason but your dad was a little skeptical, as expected. Jason’s kindness earned a homemade dinner and a movie with you, your mother, and himself.

A fond day to cling to now

The sounds of laughter and cocky attitudes echoed in the batcave. “Remember (y/n) keep your hands up to protect your face and or swing, elbows low and in to protect damage to your ribs. Keep light on your feet so you can move quickly. Also-“ cutting him off you lunge at him tackling him to the mat on the floor. Jason cried out in surprise. “Oh shi-“ Alfred cut him off “language Master Todd.” Jason looked up at Alfred. “Sorry Alfred.” Alfred nodded and turned his attention back to nightwing and tending to his physical ailments from the night’s festivities. Jason turned back to you. “Now that wasn’t very fair of you.” Giving a triumphant smile you retort “Aren’t you supposed to be ready for anything?” Pursing his lips he thought about it. “Yea, I guess you're right.” In one swift moment he flipped you on your stomach having you I. A choke hold. No to together though, his legs wrapped around yours locking them I. Place. Your hands automatically shoot up to try and pry his hold off. Jason's breath tickled his ear “admit I’m the best.”

You: “you stink.”

Jason: “say I’m the coolest guy you know.”

You: “You're the weirdest guy I’ve ever met.”

Jason: “Admit I’m smart.”

You: “You have the brain of a toddler.”

Jason: “Say you think I'm sexy.”

You: “Look like a wet dog.” You snicker enjoying the banter. “Ugh, if I wanted to watch teenagers get it on I would rather watch a trashy romance movie. You guys are ridiculous.” Dick commenter to which Jason snapped back. “You’re just jealous I’m able to maintain a relationship.” The expression on Dicks face spoke volumes. Jason definitely hit a nerve. “Oh yea?” He inquired. “Yeah.” Jason nodded. Dick got off the seat. “Get up Todd.” Jason let go and whispered in your ear. “Watch this.”

Getting up you decided to stand next to Alfred who protested against dick fighting falling on deaf ears. Alfred realizing that this was happening whether he wanted it to or not he sighed. “I don’t know what to do with those boys.” Sitting back the duel began. Jason was bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Come on chickenwing! Bawk! Bawk!” Jason taunted with a wicked grin. “It’s Nightwing.”Dick corrected seething. The battle of honor began. Jason swung first, his fist connecting with Dicks lower run cage which seemed to just make Dick angrier. Dick swept Jason’s leg knocking him to the floor before pinning him and having Jason in a tight choke hold. “It's not so fun when it's not your girlfriend is it!” Dick said with a smug look. “Screw you!” Jason yelled anger very apparent in his voice as he jabbed his elbow into Dick’s rib again making him let go. With the new found freedom, Jason straddles him and starts pounding on him, punching him where he could. It was honestly a little scary watching from the outside. “Master Todd! Master Grayson! Enough of this childish behavior!” Jason stopped looking up at Alfred with a guilty expression before a fist connected to his chin knocking him off of Dick. Alfred and you intervene, you take Jason while Alfred takes hold of Grayson. “You mother-“ Dick cut Jason off “I will always do better than you, be better than you.” He said venom in his words. “At least I don't dress like I’m going to a fuckimg disco party to fight crime and look like a little bitch.” Jason yelled at him, that caught you so off guard. You had to fight to stifle the laugh. “I designed the suit myself you ass!” Dick retorted. “Yea, I can tell, Dick.” “Boys, enough for the last time! Separate or so, help me I will tell Bruce to keep you both off missions for a Week!” Alfred is clearly fed up.

Both boys went to their rooms to calm down. “You really did a low blow going after the wardrobe.” You started breaking the silence as the both of you sat on the bed. “He’s an ass.” Jason was still very clearly in a mood. You take his hand, “I dot. Have siblings, but I do have a family. Family can be your worst enemy and your best friend. The rough patch will pass.

It’s a terrible thing, just as they were starting to work things out. He was gone.

Harsh words sounded through the off white walls of the apartment. Same old thing, money this, money that, we have to this, we have to that. After a day of work and school, arguing was the absolute last thing you wanted to hear. What better place to go to escape the noise than the fire escape.

There you were, eyes closed, the breeze gently cooling your skin. A wonderful feeling. That’s when another sensation touched your cheek, a warmth, something soft. Opening one eye you see what you knew was there. Jason’s lips left your cheek. “Hey.” He smiled. You wave your hand in front of your face trying to wave away the smell. “Geez you smell, and you're sweaty, wanna shower?” You offer jokingly but with kindness. “That would be amazing. Thanks.” He commented. “Oh, uh don’t be alarmed by the way. They are just arguing. That’s all.” Jason nodded knowingly, “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” Following him inside he tossed his duffle bag to the ground and pulled out some clean clothes and stuffed his sweaty red shirt in the duffles bag before disappearing to the bathroom and turning on the shower.

A few minutes later you found yourself reading a magazine. Something about Bruce Wayne and another charity he supported. Seems like a nice guy. Shortly after you thought maybe you’d be nice and wash his clothes. You needed to do your own laundry anyway. It was starting to pile up. Reaching into the back you pull out the shirt with just your pointer finger and thumb and the shorts. That’s when something caught your eye, something bright yellow. Touching the fabric it felt soft. Pulling it out more revealed the rest of the suit, the yellow turned out to be a cape with black on the other side. Under the cape however…was a suit. Not just any red and green suit, the Robin suit. Your mouth practically dropped to the floor. Is Jason Robin? Is this fake? No it could be, the suit is too well made to be a costume. Wait, if Jason is Robin does that mean Bruce knows? Wait…is Bruce Batman? No that can’t be right could it? The sound of the bathroom door opening snagged your attention. There stood Jason with worry in his expression. “YOU’RE ROB-“ Jason tackled you to the bed, his hand cupping your mouth, his face panicking. “Shhhhh, please, just be calm. Relax. I’ll explain everything.” He took a moment to look at you and recompose himself. “If I let you go, will you be quiet?” After you nodded in agreement he let go and got off of you help g you sit up. “Okay, um, I am Robin. I’ve been Robin for a while now. You know, fighting crime and helping Batman.” You listened as he spilled everything. Putting his trust in you. “I need you to keep this to yourself, okay?” Nodding you agree. “I promise.your secret is safe with me. On a lighter note-“ you smile feeling excited “you being Robin explains so much. Would you be willing to…can you put on the suit and show me. I wanna see it up close!” Jason laughed and agreed,

Sometimes you wonder if you didn’t know if Jason suddenly disappearing and never being able to come back would have made it easier.

[lexithwrites]

Pls prongsfoot.

I am on my knees. Begging.

Pls!!

im just gonna write basic prongsfoot and not sugar daddy au prongsfoot incase this isnt about that,,,,enjoy!

i love the idea of sirius and james growing up together, like they went to the same preschool and begged their parents to hang out every day and they both cry when they have to go home

they also go to the same primary school and BEG to go to the same secondary school and of course they got their way, their parents weren't about to deal with the fallout of separating them

their school life is similar to hogwarts, they meet remus and peter and they're THE group, like they're nerds and play DND but also play football and are great with the teachers and their grades are good too and they're always up to some shit

but james and sirius have always been a little closer, not to the point of jealousy in the group but just,,,its different

james isn't super sure of his sexuality in secondary school but sirius is like,,handsome and pretty somehow? he likes girls, lily evans is still the hottest girl in school and his first crush, but sirius is,,,there's something about him

sirius knew he was bi since forever lmao he's dated guys and girls but nothing has ever really been 'love' for him, at least not yet

he loves james though, obviously, he's always loved james how could he not? he's handsome and funny and smart and charming and tall and—

they're each others first kiss at a house party in year 10, its awkward and they're drunk and outside in the garden trying cigarettes for the first time and its,,,nice?

james finally dates lily in sixth form and they're the school's it couple for months, they are really cute together and they're affectionate and they're both top of their classes, lily is the school's netball team captain and james is the football captain, its great

and then lily breaks down in their last year crying because she thinks she might be gay and she's been so scared to tell james and hurt him but he's the most supportive guy about it

he cries with her because he feels awful for making her feel bad about it

of course he's upset, he really loved lily and always will, but if it isnt meant to be, it isnt meant to be (he cries to monty and effie for a few weeks before finally coming out of hiding and he and lily stay close, james even helps set her up with girls when she's too nervous)

when sirius finds out he basically runs to james' house, he's so worried about his best friend and his heart is hammering in his chest and when he gets there they talk about everything and james cries a little, lily was his first crush, first love, first girlfriend, he lost his virginity to her, she's a huge part of his life and his story

and sirius feels awful because he's happy james is single...because maybe he has a chance?

sirius kisses him and its bad,,,james reels. back, he's so confused and upset and so is sirius and sirius goes home and they dont talk for like two weeks, its awful

peter and remus are awkwardly talking as the other two are silent until peter breaks and begs them to just stop the petty arguing and talk because they're best friends and this is weird, remus quietly agrees and tells them to grow some balls and talk about their feelings like men

sirius apologises for kissing him, smoking a cigarette outside the bike sheds as james kicks stones around and its awkward for sure but they make up

and james is slowly back to his old self after the break up, he and lily hang out and everything is okay, but sirius is,,,james feels different about him

he's more handsome than ever, more charismatic, he was always like this??

and james realises he fancies him and he whines to remus about it and remus, the very gay man that he is, just tells james to tell him

silly remus

james instead just tries to hang out with sirius like its normal, even after they finish sixth form and look for uni's to apply too together james is looking at sirius' lips, his fingers, his hair, his ass, his chest, everything

he's just,,,,gorgeous

and then their first week of uni happens, freshers is underway and remus is down from edinburgh and peter is back from holiday and they all go out drinking with their new flatmates and classmates and its great,,,then james sees sirius chatting a girl up and his heart breaks

james tries to drink it away but that wont work so he just huffs at sirius and drags him to the toilets to yell at him for flirting with someone and sirius is SO confused because why does james care then it slowly sinks in and as james is yelling and nearly crying, admitting that he wants sirius to flirt with HIM and ONLY him, sirius just grabs him and kisses him, dragging him into a stall and locking it

its so heavy and hot and passionate and everything they wanted and needed and maybe they jerk each other off in the bathroom, whose to say? but they come out red faced and with messy clothes and they're both grinning because god theyre idiots but they're each others idiots

[bizaar]

Cruel Summer - Part 16

First - Previous - Next

pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: After breaking up, you and Eddie do your best to soldier on with your lives, but you slowly begin to discover that there is a stronger line of connection keeping you together than just history…

word count: 9.5k

warnings: angst, swearing, horror descriptors, TW: violence/blood, major character death (f o r g i v e m e)

A.N.: here we go kids...

Eddie lies to himself that he knows what he’s doing, that this is all still part of the plan, and that things are not as well and truly fucked as they actually are. 

A bigger part of him than he is willing to acknowledge is screaming at him to turn back, to do the smart thing for once, and save his miserable hide, but there is only one clear path for him, as suicidal as it may be. 

You’d told him this wasn’t the type of thing he was going to be able to save you from if things took a turn for the worse, and part of him agreed with you – that’s the part of him that he’s imagining is ringing the alarm bells right now, but self-preservation be damned, he’s never been the kind of person to make “smart choices” and he’s not about to start now. 

He’s going to get you out of here and back through to the other side, even if it kills him.

The bats are stuck to the outside of the trailer like so many screeching winged barnacles when Eddie bursts through the door, flying down the steps and across the lawn toward where the Wheeler’s bikes are still laying in a jumble on the front lawn. 

It’s something that on the other side of the world would be so banal – the indication of a gathering of friends, everyone piled into someone’s living room to play Atari or watch tv, the tell-tale sign of a camaraderie that Eddie has been denied his whole life. 

Here and now, it’s just a means to an end. When he gets the bike, he’ll whip out to the highway where the van is parked on the shoulder, where you’ll be tucked safely away, waiting for him, despite how the horrendous cacophony they’d sat listening to tells him otherwise.

He tells himself you’re going to be there because you have to be. You’ll be there and you’ll be okay, you’re going to make it through this no matter what.

No matter what.    

He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do once he finds you, but that’s not important right now. Right now, he’s just got to get to the bikes in one piece.  

Eddie was never really the kind of kid who rode bikes. 

He was the kid who sat in his room all summer, teaching himself to play guitar, teaching himself to draw, trying to mold himself into the type of person he thought the kids on his block would want to be friends with, not the shape of the social pariah they were steadily forcing him into.

Eddie wasn’t the kind of kid who rode bikes growing up because, beyond the fact that all the other kids in his neighborhood went around treating him like he was diseased, he didn’t learn how to ride one until he was ten years old, which had been a starkly humiliating experience he doesn’t relish in reliving. 

The wheels feel shaky and untrustworthy as Eddie pulls the bike up and swings his leg over, but sticky pedals and screeching gears are nothing compared to the cloud of teeth whirling overhead in a morbid murmuration. 

He tries not to think about that or scraped knees and elbows as he wipes at the blood still oozing from the gash in his forehead – it stings unpleasantly as the motion pulls at the torn flesh there. 

Eddie didn’t feel the bat’s teeth when they pierced his flesh, but he sure as hell felt them scrape along the ridge of his skull – worse than that, he heard it. He knows he’s going to need stitches, that it’s gonna leave a scar and he’s gonna have to grow his hair longer to cover it up – he doesn’t have time to be worried about that, because the bats were always going to get through into the trailer. 

The same old fatalist part of himself he’s never been able to tune out always knew that the same way it always knew you were going to end up in the van – always expect the worst to happen and you’ll never be disappointed when it does.

Still, he’s bleeding a lot, and he knows he should probably be concerned about that, but if there’s one useless thing Eddie learned in the brief time Al Munson spent single parenting him – and most everything he ever learned from that man has been more or less useless – it’s that “head wounds bleed,”. He’d told him as much in a rare moment of fatherly clarity while tending to his cuts and bruises after breaking up a fight between Eddie and another boy.

It made him angry at the time, mostly because there was never a time in those handful of years when he wasn’t violently angry at his father, and any advice he was sure to give him was tantamount to bullshit, but here and now that almost seems like wisdom.

Maybe it’s because he’s scared shitless and ever so slightly concussed, but Eddie repeats the words like a mantra as he drops down over a curb and pedals like a shaky, uncoordinated madman. 

He pedals and tries not to become overwhelmed with the sudden memory of flowery training wheels and iridescent tassels and the monstrously pink bicycle his mother had borrowed from their six-year-old neighbor in an effort to teach him to ride that Saturday afternoon in the spring of ‘76, when his reputation went it’s grave. 

Word travels fast in Hawkins, and by 2 pm that day, all the neighborhood boys had turned out to watch Eddie Munson attempt to ride a little girl’s bike with his mother tailing after him, fruitlessly shouting instructions on how not to crash.

Easier said than done — that endeavor cost him two teeth and what meager savings they had in dentist’s bills. 

Two years later, she was dead, and those same shitty boys took advantage of the open wound of Eddie’s grief, luring him out of the house with the promise of the summertime camaraderie he so desired.

Naturally, it was nothing but a great big joke to them, and it ended spectacularly with the lot of them riding out to the plant to throw things into the industrial crusher – rocks, cans, a basketball one of them had managed to balance on their handlebars the whole way, and Eddie’s bike – the one he’d received for his birthday only a few months earlier. 

It was a rusty old Schwinn that Wayne had paid twenty bucks for at a garage sale in Bloomington, and decidedly uncool compared to the tricked-out BMX bikes all the other boys rode, but that didn’t make it hurt any less to lose it. 

Eddie vividly remembers the sickening sensation that settled over him as he stood there, helplessly watching the angry metal teeth crunch the last of its spokes into oblivion – his prized possession, gone in one instant of shocking violence.

Of course, looking back now, it’s painfully obvious that this was those boys’ intention all along, to take something precious from him, scare him, and force him further from their ranks into the fringes where he exists now. 

Eddie doesn’t last long on the bike before one of the bats kamikazes itself in the spokes, sending him flipping headfirst over the handlebars. He lands hard on his shoulder and feels something pop – that’s never a good sign – but he doesn’t stay down, because he’s got seconds before the bats descend, and he’s not sure you have even that much time. 

Eddie runs the rest of the way, quickly shucking off his spear and shield because it’s hard enough to run in combat boots when you haven’t been chain-smoking since you were fourteen, and they’re only slowing him down. 

He’ll worry about protecting himself later, right now he needs all the help and speed he can get. 

That night, after losing his bike to the crusher, Eddie lay in bed crying an endless tide of silent tears over it. Little pearls of young desperation streaked down into his ears as he did his best to stifle his sniffles – not because of the loss of the bike or the hell he caught over it when he ended up having to call his father to come and pick him up, or even because he had been stupid enough to think those boys really wanted to be friends with him. 

It was because he had nothing, and somehow, they still managed to take something from him. 

Eddie’s never had a lot of things that are expressly his, and what he does have he’s had to work for. A helluva lot of blood sweat and tears earned him the van, his guitar, and you – the van is gone, Sweetheart too for all he knows, but you…? 

He’s not going to let this place take you from him, not while he’s still standing. 

Eddie crashes through the trees and into the underbrush, not giving a damn where he sets his feet down or whether Vecna knows he’s there — because if the Dark Lord Fucker isn’t wise to something funky going on in his domain by now, then they’ve got bigger problems than the bats or the hivemind. 

These woods feel different, darker, denser — dangerous. It’s not the same as they were when he was walking along, having his silly little heart-to-heart with Steve.

Maybe it’s because this is a different patch of woodland, or maybe just because the urgency to get through them is through the roof, but it leaves him feeling like he’s running in place, treading water, that the road is getting further away with every step he takes and he’s never going to make it to you.

Eddie’s always been decent with direction – living your whole life in the same town comes with the benefit of basically always knowing where you are but crashing through the woods like this, he’s operating on dead reckoning. He’s running on a hope and prayer, which is a dangerous game considering that God’s never liked him much. 

He runs until he begins to feel a deep and existential paranoia that he’s gone too far, or worse, that he’s headed in the wrong direction. It causes his inner compass to spin erratically with woeful doubt, and just as he starts to ask himself whether he ought to double back, the trees break, and there stands that same lonely stretch of road, sky wheeling overhead. 

Everything is more or less exactly as it had been back on the other side, including the stark absence of the van. 

Eddie’s heart drops into his ass as he comes to a skidding halt on the cracked and ruined asphalt. 

He spins in wild desperate circles looking for any sign of what happened here, where you could have possibly gone, because it’s not that the van is missing altogether — there is in fact a great deal of evidence scattered across the road to suggest that, up until very recently, it was exactly where he’d left it in November of 1983 when time came to a screeching halt. 

That evidence comes in the form of broken glass, smashed vines and debris, bits of twitching little bodies, since crushed and torn asunder beneath the mass of something roughly the size of an eight-thousand-pound Chevrolet Beauville Sportvan. 

Somehow, that is worse than if it had never been here in the first place, because of what it suggests: that you ran for safety only to find yourself headed straight for a metal death trap. 

It makes his blood run cold. 

The debris trails heavily across the road, easily followed from one side to the other, over the asphalt, through the trees, and down a steep embankment.

There at the bottom lies the van, crushed and misshapen on its side, spattered in the results of its quick and violent departure from the road.  

Eddie feels his legs go wobbly and his guts seize as a cold sweat breaks out across his brow. Suddenly he’s torn between hoping with every fiber of his being that you aren’t inside and praying irrationally to any deity who might be listening that you’re down there.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do if you’re not — he can’t imagine trailing back to the gate empty-handed. 

If you’re not down there, he’s not leaving this place until he finds you, that’s for damn sure. 

Slowly, a sound reaches him and Eddie realizes with a start that he can hear something coming from the van – the faint and broken tinge of a voice, someone calling out. 

He slips and stumbles in the underbrush as he goes down the embankment at a pace, following the path the van carved into the earth when it evidently rolled. 

The windows are all blown out, and in their absence, the voice continues to eke out into the still, heady air, growing louder as Eddie gets closer.

It’s something out of a recurring nightmare he thinks he’s had, some variation of you being thrust into a terrible danger he’s powerless to save you from — it feels like losing you at a party in a sea of people who have nothing but the worst intentions for him — for you.

Eddie shouts your name on instinct, cringing at the sound of his own desperate voice bouncing back at him – and then, terrifyingly, something mimics him, and shouts your name right back, crunchy and chewed up through static, like a voice being fed through a paper shredder. 

It doesn’t take him long to recognize it.

It’s Dustin, calling you over the walkie-talkie, desperately crying your name and trying to get you to answer him. 

“—Eddie didn’t follow me through the gate!” He wails, speaking so quickly and frantically Eddie can barely understand him, “H-he cut the rope – I don’t know where he’s going! Oh, God, oh, Jesus! – If you’re there, pick up! Please–” 

Little fucking narc. Eddie thinks, gritting his teeth against the twinge of annoyance that blooms in him over being told on. 

He swallows the feeling in favor of shouting your name again, long and loud, stretching it almost past the point of recognition. 

This time, you answer. 

“...I’m here…” You call weakly from somewhere behind him – inside the van, Eddie realizes with a start.

He can’t decide if he’s relieved, considering how weak the sound is. 

He’s at the back doors before you finish speaking, and his heart jumps up into his throat when no amount of tugging garners any sort of movement, smashed and bent out of shape as the doors are.   

Even pulling as hard as he can, Eddie can’t get them to budge.

It takes him far too long to remember that the doors at the back are not the only point of entry to the vehicle, and when he does, he scrambles around to the side, heart spasming erratically against his ribs as you call out to him again.

Your voice is tiny and fragile, and suddenly you sound like you’re about to break into a hundred tiny pieces. 

“Eddie…?”

“I’m coming!” He chokes, bracing himself on his hands to hoist up onto the side of the van tilted up to the sky.

He tries to think light thoughts as he sits on his toes, perched on the runner and fumbling with the handle of the side panel door.

“I’m coming, Baby, just – just gimme a second to get this door–” 

He tugs on it with the same force he’d exerted to no use at the back and cuts himself off with a startled yelp as it slides open with no resistance. Eddie very nearly topples over backward into the dirt, narrowly avoiding the door as it snaps off its hinges and whips past him, crashing down into the underbrush with a thunderous cacophony. 

He grits his teeth against the sound and watches as it bounces and rolls off to disappear into the brush with a heavy thud. 

Something is bound to have heard that, and if he wasn’t on a ticking clock before, he certainly is now. He’s got to get you and get out of here, figure out what his next move is before anything can come circling back around to finish the job.

When Eddie turns his attention back to the belly of the van, there you are, pushing up from where you lay on your side in a bed of broken glass and twisted metal – he’s never been happier to see you, considering the circumstances. 

He drops down into the carcass of the van and lands beside you as softly as he can manage in steel-toed combat boots. 

“Hey–” Eddie says, resting a tentative hand on your hip as you push up from the crumpled heap you’re lying in. “Baby... Sweetheart, are you okay? Come on, talk to me.” 

You shake your head like you’re trying to clear a fog that has descended over your senses and press the heel of your palm against your forehead, making a pitiful sound as you do.

“Okay – I changed my mind,” You groan. “I don’t wanna be bait anymore.” 

His hands migrate up to brace against your arms, trying in vain to steady you as you rock back into a seated position. You suck in a sharp breath and hold it, eyes screwed shut as you work through something – pain? Confusion? He can’t tell, and he can’t express how much that scares him.

“So, I guess this is the part where you tell me you told me so,” 

Eddie surprises himself by laughing – a short wet bark that is just a little too loud in this enclosed space.

“You bet your ass I did.” He says, trying his best to sound easy, like maybe if he can laugh about this it won’t seem so bad.

It’s your turn to laugh then, a shaky exhale through the nose tinged ever so slightly with your typical mirth. And then you just sit there for a long moment, breathing in, breathing out, like you’re trying to center yourself or come back to yourself, or something, before you finally heave a sigh. 

It takes you a moment longer to open your eyes, and when you do, your gaze flits up to meet his.

Your eyes immediately go wide, and it’s only then that Eddie remembers he doesn’t look so hot himself. 

“Eddie – Oh, my God!” You gasp, reaching up to push his bandana back. “What happened?”

The material shifts with a gritty drag that sends a shiver of discomfort rocking through Eddie’s body. 

“Nah, I’m okay.” Eddie says quickly, catching your hand and squeezing your fingers in a way he hopes is reassuring, “You oughta see the other guy.”

Then, just to show you it’s okay, he wipes the back of his hand across the cut on his forehead, growing sticky as the blood finally begins to coagulate. Eddie’s not willing to admit that he’s relieved about that, or that he’d seriously started to worry that these bats have some kind of anticoagulant in their saliva, like normal vampire bats only turned up to eleven.

How stupid would it have been to bleed out before he could even get you out of here?  

You eye him warily, seemingly unsatisfied with the display, but unwilling to argue. 

“Come on, we gotta get out of here – can you stand, Sweetheart?”

“I think so…” You say, bracing yourself against the way Eddie snakes his hands under your arms and gently eases you up onto your feet. “Ah– shit!” 

You flinch and tense under his touch, causing Eddie’s insides to tighten with the fear of hurting you. He has to remind himself not to immediately release you, lest he drop you back among the broken glass and debris. 

“Sorry!” Eddie says immediately, but you’re already shaking your head, refusing any sort of apology he might offer.

He knows he ought to be treating you with kid gloves especially if you were in this thing when it crashed and rolled like he highly suspects you were. He doesn’t know what's wrong with you, where you’re hurt, and he doesn't want to do something to inadvertently make a bad situation worse.

“What hurts, Babes? Your arm? Your ribs…?”

“My leg.”  You hiss, craning your neck to look down at the thing – Eddie follows your gaze and notices the blood too late.

Big thick rivulets of it, streaking down to slick the inside of your thighs a bright and sticky crimson. It’s a lot of blood – too much blood, he might say if he was allowing himself to think about that, which he isn’t. Still, it takes him a panicky moment to find the source of the bleeding, and when he does his breath catches in his throat. 

There, tied off around your upper thigh, is what he can only imagine is a piece of your shirt, torn off and fashioned into a tourniquet. The flesh below it is split into a long, jagged slice, lazily oozing over the expanse of your exposed skin. Eddie feels his stomach heave as he realizes he can see the faintest hint of muscle and sinew there.

He can’t get the words out to properly ask you what happened, but he sees the source of the wound before he has the time to really get worried about that. A thick, jagged piece of glass sits at your feet, at least four inches in length, and two of those inches are coated in a slick layer of blood – your blood. 

Oh… shit.  

He swallows hard in a lame attempt at regaining a bit of composure. 

“What – uh – what do you need me to do here?” Eddie asks uselessly, feeling his mouth go dry.

The long and short of it? You need his belt to tie a better tourniquet, and while Eddie has never thought twice about unbuckling his belt for you, his fingers are trembling so badly as he fumbles with getting it unnotched and pulling it from his jeans that he nearly drops it twice before he gets it free. 

He hates himself for the way you hiss out in pain when he slips the belt up over your thigh and pulls it tight – tighter even when you tell him to. 

Eddie does as he’s told, despite his reluctance to hurt you, because you clearly know better than he does.

“How’s that–how’s it feel?” He asks once the belt is notched and looped, tight enough to cause your skin to discolor in places.  

He’s on his knees in front of you now, eyes flitting back and forth between his work and your face, hands hovering aimlessly over the spot like he half expects it to spring a leak like some kind of rusty pipe.

“Tight.” You say through gritted teeth, and when Eddie feels his brows come together in concern, you shake your head and assure him that “Tight is good.” 

After that, working together you manage to coax the back doors to fall open with a thunderous crash that has Eddie sucking in a tense breath. Your ticking clock is steadily running out, and he’s only thankful that you can more or less stand on your own two feet and walk yourself out of there. 

Still, he has to carry you up the embankment, bridal style with your legs tucked over his arm – he’s hyper-aware of every one of his movements as he goes, suddenly so paranoid that any wrong step is going to tear something and set you to bleeding again.  

Over the black river of pavement and through the woods, back toward home, you go – slowly, step after agonizing step you lean heavily on Eddie and hobble to safety. One foot in front of the other, baby steps one might even say – it’s agonizingly slow going, but it’s distance all the same. 

The further you go, the more Eddie can’t help but start to fool himself that things are going to be okay – you’re going to make it.   

He should know better than to hope for something like that. 

Eddie doesn’t notice the bats at first, he’s too busy watching you for any sign of distress, and as a result, he only realizes something is wrong when he sees you stop short and recoil. Your eyes widen in fear and you gasp through your teeth, then he follows your gaze and sees them. 

Like they knew he was going to eventually have to come back this way, like they’d just been waiting for him, there they are. Hundreds of bats, maybe even thousands, swirling and ducking and diving, a cloud of teeth and claws and winged screeching death swirling overhead. 

“Eddie–” You gasp, fisting your hands in the side of his vest and trying your damnedest to tuck yourself in behind him. 

“It’s okay – it’s gonna be okay.” He says, doing his best to swallow his own fear because how can that be expressly true when you can’t run? 

How are you supposed to make it out of this one? The sobering truth settles in the pit of his stomach, cold and heavy like a rock, threatening to pull him down into the depths of sickening realization: you’re not. 

Holy, shit. He can’t help but think. We’re going to die down here. 

Strangely, Eddie can’t stop thinking about that moment back in the boat house with danger bearing down on the pair of you – he’d stressed that you had to get the fuck out of there, right now, and you’d more or less agreed … only, not the both of you.

There will be no more running for Eddie the Banished… 

If he can buy you some time, find a way to lure the bats away from you, maybe you can make it back to the gate – but there lies the problem with your being unable to walk without his support. It’s a terrible conundrum, how to give his life to save yours when you need to use him as a crutch? He’ll burn that bridge when he comes to it.

“What are we gonna do … Eddie?” 

 Eddie twists to face you then, taking your face in both hands. 

“Hey, look at me – we’re gonna be fine, we're gonna walk—”

“We’re not gonna make it!” you say in a clipped, panicked tone, eyes wide and reeling in their sockets as he holds you firmly to the spot and forces you to look at him. 

“Doesn’t matter.” He says immediately, shaking his head, “We gotta try. So, we’re just gonna walk, okay? One foot in front of the other.”

You shake your head. 

“They’re gonna see us.”

Eddie nods slowly.

“Yeah— yeah, they’re gonna see us, but it’s gonna be okay. Listen to me. Whatever happens, it’ll be okay ... you trust me right?"

"I trust you." You say slowly.

He rolls his shoulders in a shrug he hopes is half as calm and casual as it feels.

"So let's just walk, see what happens."

“...Okay.” 

If he thought your pace before was slow, this is like trudging through wet cement. One foot after the other, just like he said, you make your way out into the open.

Eddie does his best not to breathe and he squeezes you tight against him, doing his best to sync your steps and hold as much of your weight as he can take without outright carrying you. 

You get barely half a minute of peace out in the open before razor-sharp claws come flying down to rake the side of your face and send you staggering with a strangled scream.

Eddie manages to keep you upright, but only just, and he barely has time to decide where to go let alone process what the hell just happened before you’re hit again, this time from the right.

It’s actually astounding the way he’s already doing such a bad job at this – he came out here to protect you, didn’t he? Save you? 

Maddeningly, no amount of thrashing or shouting seems to draw the bats' attention to him, like he’s not even there. He tries to put himself in front of you to act as some sort of a buffer against the attack as they swarm, but the bats just keep coming, and in the end, all he can do is pull you along at a staggering pace to try and keep the bats off of you.

In the distance, Eddie suddenly spies the discarded spear and shield lying in a heap and he feels the tips of his fingers sting with adrenaline. Suddenly, there’s a chance.  

Forget the gate, if he can just get you to that shield, maybe he can protect you.

He turns to tell you the new plan just in time to see you enveloped in a pair of wings, and in a moment, your fingers slip from his.

“Shit– no–!”

“Eddie!” 

Before he can grab you, something grips Eddie’s ankle and wrenches him off of his feet. He hits the ground and scrambles to try and find purchase on the pavement, blunt fingernails splintering in the earth as he’s dragged backward, away from you. 

You’re wide-eyed, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as you reach for him – fingers just miss each other, and then you’re gone as Eddie is wrenched away and you disappear into a cloud of flapping wings.

Oh, my God — Jesus fucking Christ, this can’t be happening, he thinks watching the frantic thrashing heap where you had been only a moment before.

That’s supposed to be him getting swarmed, not you…  you’re supposed to make it… he’s supposed to save you — he’s got to save you.

Eddie kicks out and thrashes until his boots come away and he is free of whatever it is that has a hold of him. He scrambles to get his socked feet underneath him, but before he can straighten up he is hit again, hard enough in the back to send him sprawling forward. 

His chin strikes the pavement, and stars burst across his vision. Eddie tastes copper as his mouth begins to fill with blood, but all of that is immediately secondary to the way his lungs have flattened in his chest and no amount of effort will inflate them again – he can’t breathe. 

He can count the number of fights he’s been in on one hand, and most of those ended with him on the ground getting kicked in the ribs— this feels a lot like that. 

In a slow, jerky motion, Eddie tries to curl in on himself, to protect the softer, more fragile parts of his body from any sort of real damage.

He’s too stunned from having the wind knocked out of him, and before he can tuck in and bring his knees up to his chest, he’s wrenched over onto his back by that same violent force that pulls him off his feet moments before.

In an instant, he’s spread taught like a pinned moth, arms and legs pulled nearly to the point of hyperextension, facing the sky as the bats lay him out.

There’s nothing he can do, no amount of kicking and thrashing to try and free himself this time. He’d barely held his own against one of these monstrous little fuckers back in the hall outside of his bedroom, there is nothing Eddie can do when half a dozen descends.

His mind begins spinning in desperately frantic circles, trying to work its way out of this – somebody’s coming to his rescue, right? Any second Steve or somebody much braver than him is going to come riding in to save his ass and pull him out of the fire. Somebody is coming – he’s not going to die like this, he’s not going to be eaten…

It takes them a moment to get through the padding of the army-grade vest, long enough that Eddie’s lungs finally inflate again, and gasping in a greedy intake of air, he manages to get one arm free enough to wrench his elbow down toward his midsection. The motion dislodges the bat tearing at him, preventing it from getting at his insides, but it leaves his throat exposed in the process.

The bats take no time to jump at the opportunity he has opened for them. 

Time slows to a screeching halt, and this time Eddie feels the teeth breaking his skin. Every little puncture sinking deep into the tendons of his neck and pulling pieces of him away is amplified and, for half a second all he feels is a sting, then a series of pops and snaps before the warm wet gush of something flooding up into his hair and down over the expanse of his chest – blood, he realizes, his blood. 

What had you called them? Giant vampire bats?

Paralyzed by the shock of having a literal bite taken out of his neck, Eddie’s body goes momentarily slack, and then he begins to feel the other points of pain as the bats make it through his armor and begin to tear into him.

Christ, they’re gonna eat him alive, and nobody is coming to save him. 

The horror of such a statement is too much, it cracks Eddie’s brain open and he feels a part of himself slip away. He doesn’t shut down like he always imagined must happen to people in moments of great mortal peril, however, he stays tragically conscious, he stays lucid, and the bats keep eating at him. 

Eddie shuts his eyes against it and fails to suppress a scream, as much as in pain as terror.

This can’t be the end, can it? Is this really how he’s going to die? Held down and eaten alive like some kind of Promethean cautionary tale – like something out of one of his campaigns?  

What a stupid fucking way to die. 

Then, inexplicably, just as it becomes too much to bear, it ends with a tremor. Small at first, enough to startle the bats away from their meal. Little faces slick with bright red blood pop up to look around, chitter curiously at each other, and then the world begins to shake, rattling Eddie’s bones as the earth quakes beneath him with a strange and deafening roar. 

There is the rush of something being swung over him, a desperate shout and the bats screech and lift off like they mean to escape it – whatever it is – leaving Eddie lying where they left him. He watches them wink off into the dark with hazy eyes as the world endeavors to come to an end. 

Things go dark then, and Eddie wonders with a stark burst of potent fear if this is the end and if he’s finally begun to die, but he’s still far too painfully aware of everything – of the rumbling, the fleeing bats, the burning and stinging and bleeding across the expanse of his body. Of the other body pressed against him, curling tight over him to try and shield him from whatever is happening, screaming in competition with the sound as it amplifies to a deafening roar. 

And then it’s over, as quickly as it started, with a whimper rather than a fiery bang.

The rumbling silence that follows is punctuated by the sudden wet smacking of the stone-dead weight of a hundred bats dropping out of the air, like terrible, heavy rain. They hit the space above Eddie with heavy metallic thumps and he wonders briefly why he doesn’t feel their impact as they fall – he doesn’t really care; everything hurts too much.

Despite everything he’s still here… at least for now. 

Even when the world grows still, he doesn’t move. He can’t. His body still screams in the absence of the assault where he feels every abrasion, even tear in his flesh, every bruised bone in his body all crying out at once. 

It occurs to Eddie that he’ll die if he doesn’t get up, but that thought is lost under the pain, the way he can feel his life leaking out of him from several key points in his body with every panicked thump of his erratic heart. He knows he’s got to stop himself bleeding, but his limbs are heavy and sluggish — he can’t move – it hurts too bad to move.

Then stop moving, Stupid. Just lay there and die like you’re supposed to. 

Something shifts above him, and the darkness is suddenly gone. He can see the sky as he begins to die, that terrible crimson flashing of lightning, and nothing else.

Eddie’s life doesn’t flash before his eyes – he isn't imbued with sepia-toned home movies of his first steps, scraped knees, and birthday parties. 

When Eddie dies, all he thinks about is you. 

You— crouched in the student parking lot in the first moment he ever really noticed you, gathering the contents of your spilled backpack, cracking a self-deprecating joke, and apologizing for bumping into him - treating him with the most basic human kindness where no one else ever extended the courtesy.

You — sitting on his bed with your knees pulled up, pouring over some homework assignment that isn’t due for at least another week, and ignoring the nonsense song he’s making up on the spot to try and distract you.

You— belly laughing at a joke that isn’t funny with your eyes squeezed shut and your nose wrinkled in the way that made him fall in love with you – You, blasting Duran Duran and jumping on your bed trying in vain to get him to dance with you – You, illuminated by some terrible slasher and shoveling tense fistfuls of popcorn into your mouth while you sit waiting for the impending jump-scare.

You – kneeling over him in this terrible place, battered and bruised, looking like the prettiest goddamn thing he’s ever seen – an honest to Goddamn angel – still clutching the slapdash spear and shield you’d used to save him.

Wasn’t that supposed to be the other way around?

You cast the trashcan lid away from where you’d held it propped above the both of you with a grunt, gasping out the effort and flinching against the harsh sound it makes when it strikes the pavement.

You’re hurt, more than you already were – blood is flecked across your face and oozing from various cuts, blossoming across the heathered grey of your shirt where it isn’t already drying black from before. It’s on your hands, leaving cold smears across Eddie’s skin as you frame his face, forcing him to look at you the same as he had done before.

“Eddie? Eddie.” You say, frantically looking him over, “Look at me – hey, you’re okay –”

Your voice is strange and lilting as you tell him again and again that he’s okay, but your face betrays any affected facade of calm you may have been trying to hold. 

You’ve never been a good liar, especially when you’re scared. Not that Eddie needs to take a cue from you – he already knows he’s fucked.

It’s one of those existential feelings that settles in his bones, something he doesn’t need to be told to know, like when he knew he wasn’t going to graduate his first senior year, only worse.  

“Bad, huh?” He grinds out, eyes rolling in his sockets as he tries to keep himself focused on you. 

He can feel himself slipping and it’s terrifying. He searches you face, focusing on your features and trying to commit them to memory like maybe if he can just keep his eyes on you, he’ll be okay. 

Maybe he’ll still make it.

You give a quick shake of your head that feels decidedly more ominous than it should.

“No – no, you’re okay,” You say again, “Can you-can you sit up? Try and sit up for me, Eds.” 

He can’t imagine how he’s meant to do that, considering as far as Eddie can tell the bats have stripped him clean and he doesn’t have anything left between his ribs and his hips but empty spine.

Then again, you seem optimistic, and he can feel a sharp stab of pain in his belly when your hand comes down to rest over it, so he’s willing to try… or at least he’s willing to let you try.  

“Let’s sit up, okay?” You say again, gently trying to guide him into a sitting position. “We’re gonna sit up and catch our breath, and then we’ll get out of here, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie mumbles.

Slowly, he lets you coax him up, but then his waist begins to bend and Eddie’s body lights up in a hundred different points of agony. 

Suddenly he’s on fire. 

He screams out the agony, startling you with the sound, and you release him immediately, hands jerking back as fast as if the touch of his body had burned you. 

He hears you swear hearshly from somewhere to his left — he can’t see where you’ve gone, he’s too busy laying there, trying to make himself breathe and waiting for the pain to pass. 

It doesn’t – all he feels is the white-hot burning of half a dozen points where he’s busy bleeding his life away.

“Shit –” You say with a trembling voice, reappearing at his side, “Okay, on second thought, don’t try to move.”

He wasn’t planning on it. 

Eddie’s only vaguely aware of you moving, putting that first aide certificate you’d once proudly shown off to good use. You gently try to coax him to lift his head, and he complies, whimpering and choking as it puts pressure on the wound in his neck – yeah, that’s the bad one — that’s the one that kills him. 

“I know, I know it hurts —I’m sorry—”, you’re babbling as you press something to his throat and do your best to navigate the problem of applying enough pressure to stop the bleeding without choking him out. 

Slowly, Eddie becomes aware of the way his hand has come up, trembling violently as he stares back at his fingers and tries to make his eyes focus on them. If he can just stay conscious, he’ll be fine. In the intermittent flashes of light, he sees the slick wetness of the blood coating his digits, rolling down his wrist into his sleeve in thick rivulets. He realizes with a start that one of those little fuckers took a bite out of his hand. 

“Oh, shit…” he huffs, “…S-Sweetheart…?” 

“You’re okay.” You say again, reaching out quickly to curl his hand in on itself and bring it back down to rest over his heart. 

You keep saying that, but Eddie knows better. It’s too much blood — he’s only got so much of that stuff, and he’s fairly certain he’s lying in a good deal of it, pooling beneath him.

Still, it doesn’t seem to deter you as you maneuver him so that you’ve got your hands hooked under his arms. 

“Listen to me, Eds,” you start, sounding winded as you speak, “We gotta get you to a hospital, so you gotta get up.”

“You said don’t move.” He whimpers, gritting his teeth and bracing himself for more pain. 

You ignore his whining.

“I’m gonna count to three and you’re gonna stand up, okay? I’m gonna help you.”

“Okay,” he says weakly, wincing when you shift beneath him, one leg tucked under yourself, the other bent, ready to push up. 

The subtle movement alone is enough to send a sharp and lancing pain screaming through his body, and Eddie imagines for a moment that even if his wounds don’t kill him, your attempts at trying to save his life will. 

There’s no good choice here. Everything hurts, and it’s not going to stop hurting, no matter what he does. not if he gets up, and not if he just lays there until he dies. 

“Ready?”

“No.” Eddie pants.

Your fingers tighten against him and Eddie braces himself for what’s about to happen. He’s not sure how you expect to do this, but the only certainty here is that if he doesn’t get up, he’s going to die, and more than anything, Eddie doesn’t want to die, not down here in the dark. 

“You start,”

He takes a series of quick breaths, one right after the other, then holds it — this is really gonna hurt. 

“—One.” 

You don’t wait for the rest of the count, and Eddie doesn’t know why he’s so surprised about that when he’s the one who taught you that kind of behavior. 

You push up and pull with all your limited strength to try and move him with you. Pull him up onto his feet, and Eddie feels like you may as well have dropped him into a vat of acid, it’s the worst pain he’s ever experienced, and he’s fully convinced that he’s breaking into dozen of little pieces as you drag him up — there’s nothing he can do to stifle the screams that wrench themselves out of him as you go. 

His voice is a strange, hollow sound against the flat air, and you almost instantly collapse under the combination of his dead weight and your own weakened state. 

Eddie gasps out in relief when you fall backward, having done little more than wrenched him up into your lap. He lays back against your chest with his head resting on your collarbone and waits for the pain to pass… and waits… and waits… it’s not going to stop hurting, he’s going to die before it stops. 

He can feel your heart hammering against your ribs like a subtle tapping at the back of his neck. You’re both gasping for air, gritting your teeth against your own individual pain, and speaking at the same time. 

“Oh, God— oh Christ, don't-don’t do that again,” Eddie pleads, “Please don’t—” 

“Sorry – I’m sorry – that wasn’t nice,” You say, “Give me a second and we’ll try again, okay?”

He shakes his head. 

“No,”

“Eddie, I can’t do anything for you down here.” you stress, “We have to get you to the hospital right now. Come on, let’s try again.” 

“I’m not—” he starts weakly, gritting his teeth and swallowing hard before forcing out a breathless chuckle, “I’m not gonna make it, Sweetheart.” 

He hates to say it, but it’s nothing if not entirely on brand — he is, after all, the pessimist between the two of you. It doesn’t make the statement any less startling, like the clanging of a bell that rings out in the hollow silence that blooms between you. 

“No,” you say with a potent tinge of panic, “No, don’t—don’t be silly, of course you are. You’re gonna be okay, you just have to—” your voice breaks as a sob forces itself up into your throat. “—Y-you just have to get up. Please get up…” 

It breaks his heart to do it, but there’s no sense in pretending like you both don’t know he’s a goner.  Eddie slowly shakes his head and watches your features crumple. 

“Not this time.” he croaks, only just managing to get the sound out through the lump in his throat.  

Your face contorts into a twisted mask of grief and you heave out a strangled breath, slumping forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck. For a moment, it’s all you can do but heave under the duress of trying not to cry.

It doesn’t work.

After a moment of silence, you push up again, sniffling and wiping in vain at the tears that refuse to stop falling from your lashes.

Eddie forces himself to look at you and face the finality of this moment. He watches the big fat tears defy all your attempts to stifle them, dripping down to collect at the point of your chin.

He hates himself for making you cry like that, but there’s nothing he can do — it’s just another one of those inevitabilities that some fatalist part of him always knew: the bats were always going to get through, you were always going to end up in the van, and he was never going to leave this place. 

Eddie reaches up to brush the tears away, smearing blood across your face as he does. He would feel bad about that if he could make himself, but a strange calm has washed over him, and suddenly everything doesn’t hurt as badly as it did a second ago. 

In the back of his rational mind, he knows that’s a bad sign, that it’s the beginning of the end, but he doesn’t care about that — all he cares about is you. 

“It’s okay,” he hums, “Baby— it’s okay … but you gotta— you gotta go now, go to the gate – Dustin’s waiting–”

“No, not without you.” You sniffle, violently shaking your head, “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Eddie’s heart leaps in panic as his vision wells up and goes blurry as tears begin to collect at the corners of his lashes. You can’t stay down here, but he knows there’s nothing he can do or say to make you go – nothing he’s willing to say, at least.

Suddenly, Eddie is struck with the thought that these are the last minutes of his life, there are no do-overs after this, no second chances. When he closes his eyes, he’s going to die, and this is the last time he’s ever going to see you — what a terrible thing that is. 

You’re gonna go on, keep on living your life, hit all those milestones you’d planned together, and he’s gonna be so sorry to miss it. How terrible a thing it is that you could love something death can touch – he would tell himself that he’s happy to die so that you can live, but somehow he can’t muster the feeling. 

“At least I didn’t run away this time, huh?” 

Eddie tries to smile like he’s laughing at himself for being so stupid, but all he manages is a pained grimace, a horizontal stretch pulling his lips into a tight line — his mouth is full of blood. 

You smile, a weak and wilting mirror image of the look he’s sure he just gave you, and you shake your head.

“No,” you sniffle, brushing back his hair in a helpless attempt at soothing him, “You ran toward the danger, like a big dumb brave idiot… you saved me.”  

Eddie heaves out a stuttering sigh, a desperately melancholy thing, and shuts his eyes tight against the feeling welling up inside of him.

Grief? That’s for certain, because you’re both going to die down here if you stay, but he can’t bear the thought of being parted from you, not here when he needs you most.

Suddenly, he’s that eleven-year-old boy standing on his uncle’s front steps, only this time he’s begging himself not to go. 

“Stay with me, Eds…” You tell him.

“F-fuck,” he stutters, “I’m so— God, I’m sorry. I really tried this time, Sweetheart… I tried to stay, but I–” He breathes out harshly because he'd rather waste a breath than time choking on the sob welling in his throat, “–I don’t – I don’t want to go… I don’t wanna go.” 

You shake your head and shush him, gently caressing the apple of his cheek with your knuckles. 

“...I know, Baby.” you murmur, “Look at me … I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

The words strike him one after the other, harsh and potent stabs of fear pincushioning him and holding him there where he lays in your arms.

You have to go, he wants to tell you, if you stay you’ll die. But he can’t get the words out fast enough. His speech is sluggish and slurred, clumsy on his tongue. 

“You can’t—” 

You don’t let him finish. 

“I made a promise, Eddie.” You press, “I said I wouldn’t leave you. So, if you’re staying, I’m staying.” And then you bring his hand up to draw a shaky x over the left side of your chest, “Cross my heart.” 

It’s simultaneously the worst and best thing he’s ever heard. Maybe there is something poetic about it, spending eternity down here together, your bodies decaying and intertwining, falling together until you’re nothing but a jumbled heap of bones, yours indiscernible for his — together is better. 

People are eventually going to forget about him … but you? No one will know what happened to you, not your friends, your parents, not Wayne – oh, fuck … Wayne. 

Eddie’s heart thumps a slow and heavy rhythm in his chest as images of his uncle’s face swim before his eyes. 

It’ll be hardest for Wayne, the not knowing. 

He’s going to spend the rest of his life searching, wondering what happened to him, waiting for a sign that he’s okay, that he made it – or some sign that he didn’t – and it’s never going to come.

He’s going to die not knowing what happened, and somehow that’s the worst part of all of this. 

Suddenly, Eddie can’t stop thinking of all the people he’ll never see again, everyone he’s letting down, dying like this. Gareth and the band, everyone in Hellfire —Dustin, God, Dustin’s gonna be crushed. 

He feels his face contort into a mask of terrible sadness before he draws in a sharp, pained breath and holds it. Hot tears well up and spill out from his lashes, streaking down over the side of his face to collect in the shell of his ear.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I’m here…” You say gently, “I’m right here.”

“I love you,” He says shakily, desperately.

You nod.

“I know, Honey – I love you too… so much.” 

You continue stroking the side of his face as he feels himself begin to fade, his limbs growing slack, his aches and pains easing away. 

Finally, it’s like he can breathe again, and the air is cool and sweet. If he really wanted to, Eddie thinks he could delude himself into imagining that you’re lying out in a field somewhere, hundreds of miles from Hawkins and the Upsidedown and everything that means him harm, that means you harm.

It’s just the two of you, in this peaceful place, the grass is soft, the birds are chirping — he’s back home in the Shire, Mordor long removed from the horizon. 

It’s hard to force the words out through the way his teeth are chattering – he’s suddenly so goddamn cold, he’s surprised he can’t see his breath clouding in front of his face – but he tries. 

God, does he try. 

“For the quest is achieved–” Eddie stutters, “And now all is over,” He opens his eyes, and the illusion is gone as the crushing darkness of this place comes rushing back in.

He’s so cold, he can barely feel your hands anymore and he has to look to make sure you’re still there, smiling sweetly, tears cutting thick rivulets through the dirt and grime caking face.

Eddie heaves out a sigh as he finishes the quote.

“I’m glad you’re here with me –“ He tells you, “Here, at the end of all things.” 

Everything is muffled now. Eddie doesn’t hear the voice calling his name in the distance, calling yours – he watches your head snap to attention, watches the expression on your face change, and then change again.

Shadows are creeping in on the edges of his vision when you look back down at him, your features are growing fuzzy, but he can see your brows suddenly pinched tightly over your eyes as a newfound urgency etches itself across your face – God, he’s so damn lucky he gets to see your face one last time.

He tries to commit you to memory, but suddenly you’re nothing more than a blown-out silhouette of yourself, working your mouth, curling your fingers in tighter around him.

You’re saying something, but Eddie can’t understand you, the words are garbled, like being spoken underwater. 

He would be sad about that if he were able. 

He wants to tell you he loves you again, one last time before he goes, make sure you know for certain before it’s too late, but he’s already slipped beneath the surface by the time the thought crosses his mind. 

Somewhere, he thinks he can hear you talking to him, still stroking his face in that lovely way you always do. He imagines you asking him to stay stay stay… he would if he could.

[breaniebree]

Still not sure when it will be posted but hopefully by the end of March!

Here's a sneak peek to show you what I have planned...

Chapter One of Third Time's the Charm

The One With A Second Chance

Queen blared from the speakers as Sirius hummed along with the beat of Radio Gaga.  He smiled as James began to hum under his breath next to him, shaking his hips to the beat.  When he started to move his head and fist pump the air as he quite frankly, jammed out, Sirius stifled a laugh.  When he began to sing along, Sirius couldn’t help but smile at his friend.  He wiggled his own hips along, knocking them against James’ as they grinned widely at each other.  

By the time the second verse started, James was singing loudly and powerfully, his smooth voice echoing in the workshop around them.

“Let’s hope you never leave, old friend.  Like all good things, on you we depend.  So stick around, ‘cause we might miss you, when we grow tired, of all this visual.  You had your time, you had the power!  You’ve yet to have your finest hour, radio!  Radio!”  James sang.  

When he caught Sirius’ eye, he grabbed the wrench like a microphone and began to really sing as he clapped his hands together.  

“All we hear is radio ga ga!  Radio goo goo!  Radio ga ga!  Sing it, mate!  All we hear is radio ga ga!  Radio goo goo!  Radio ga ga!  All we hear is radio ga ga!  Radio blah blah!  Radio, what’s new?  Some-one still loves you!”  

Sirius snorted.  “Do they now?”

James shrugged.  “Well, I mean, there has to be at least one person who loves you, Padfoot.  No one I know, obviously…”

“Piss off,” Sirius said, biting back a laugh.

James reached a hand up to scratch his cheek and spread engine grease all over his face.  

Sirius shook his head.  “You’re hopeless, Prongs.”

James attempted to wipe it off, but instead only smeared it even worse.  “I don’t even understand how this shit gets everywhere!”  When he only succeeded in blackening himself more, he pouted.  “Help me!”  he whined.

Sirius chuckled and reached for a cloth, moving to stand in front of his best mate and brother to scrub his face clean.  “There.  Hopeless.”

“I’m not hopeless, I’m just not good with the whole machine thing.  That’s a wheel, right?”

“Smart arse,” Sirius said, throwing the towel at him.  “If you can’t honour the bike, get out of the workshop.”

James chuckled.  “That’s the moto-so-che bonneville harley, right?”

“I hate you.”

James grinned and passed his friend the wrench.  “Love you, too, brother.”

Marauder barked and ran in a circle around James as Lady Godiva merely lifted her head to watch the dog, looking very unimpressed with Marauder’s antics. 

They both looked up when someone came to the door and Fleamont stood there, a smile on his face.  

“Boys, getting up to trouble out here?”

“Never, Dad,” James said.

He chuckled.  “That’s what I thought.  Why don’t you come inside?  Fee and Lily have prepared a picnic for lunch.  Misha is joining us.”

“I hope Fee and the house elves made it,” Sirius said.  “If it was Evans, I might not want to risk it.”

“I heard that Sirius Black!”  Lily exclaimed, coming up behind Fleamont.  “That was one time and I was pregnant with your godson!”

“So you say,” he teased.  “I just remember you trying to poison me and Prongs forcing Moony and I to eat it.”

Lily shook her head in amusement before she moved towards Sirius to kiss his cheek.  She took James’ hand in hers.  “Well, come risk it if you dare.  Misha wants to talk to you anyway.”

James tugged on her hand to pull her up against him so that he could kiss his wife deeply.  “I love you, Lily.”

“I love you, too,” she said, grinning up at him with her heart in her eyes.

They kissed again and Sirius turned back towards his motorbike to give his friends a moment of privacy.

“I’ll meet you out there in a minute.  I just want to finish something first and you two can get the snogging out of your system in the meantime.”

“Never!”  James scoffed.  “Have you seen these lips?  They are the most perfect lips ever made!”

Lily squeezed her husband’s hand.  “The sad part is that he’s talking about his own lips.  Don’t be too long, Padfoot.”

James squeezed Sirius’ shoulder before wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist and leading her away from the bike.  Fleamont put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Don’t be too long, son.  You know Fee will want to feed you.”

Sirius nodded.  “I won’t, Monty.  Save me some of that treacle tart before Jamie eats it all.”

Fleamont chuckled.  “No promises.” 

Sirius grinned as he turned back to the bike.  He picked up the wrench, humming along to “Radio Gaga” as the music seemed to grow louder, rumbling in in his ears like the wireless was moving closer and closer to him.  Then, something flashed at his right.  He turned, his eyebrow furrowed in confusion as music blared in his ears.  He smelt her soap before he saw her and when she flashed again, covered in blood, his eyes widened.

“Zee!  What…?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice echoing as the music stopped around him.  “I tried to stop them.”

Sirius reached for her, but just as he touched her, his hand passed right through her.  Before he could contemplate the vision before him, something punched him right in the chest.  It hit him so hard that all of the breath was knocked out of him.  He felt like his chest was caved in and that every rib was broken and stabbing him somewhere different.  He gasped for breath, his eyes on Zee flashing in and out before him.

“Zee?  Zee, where are you?”  he demanded, but she flashed again and vanished before his eyes.

“Sirius?”  Euphemia asked from the doorway.  “Are you coming?”

“Fee…”  he whispered, blood bubbling at his mouth.

“Sirius?”  she called out, seeming to stare right through him.  “Darling, are you in here?”

Euphemia stepped right past him as if she couldn’t see him.  Sirius started to speak, unsuccessfully attempting to reach for her when suddenly, hands sprung out from the ground and tightly gripped him by his ankles.  He tried to shake them off, ventured to jump away, but the grip was too strong.  He reached for Euphemia again, his eyes wide before the hands around his ankles yanked.  His boots sank into the ground like quicksand and he was abruptly pulled into the earth.  The scream tore through him so loudly that it scorched his throat and Zee’s terrified face flashed before him.

“Zahira!” he cried out.  “Zahira!”

He was dragged through the mud; falling and rising like he was clawing his way to the surface, but the surface of what he didn’t know.  He swallowed the earth; dirt in his eyes, in his nose, in his mouth.  He could hear voices calling him and then there was nothing but the earth and the pain in his chest.

Pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before.  

Sharp, searing pain that made him taste his own blood.  

Pain like something was being ripped apart inside of him, something that he tried desperately to hold onto to, but no matter how hard he fought, the more it ripped and tore free.

And then there was only blackness.

~ TTTC ~

[wylanlupin]

Wolfstar Kinktober 2024 - Day 12: Riding

Sirius bought himself new biking clothes and shows them off to his boyfriend. And they decide to have a little ride through the night.

or: Sirius rides Remus on his motorcycle.

rating: e

category: other

pairing: Wolfstar (Remus/Sirius)

words: 1,4k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59687542

I wanted to write this for forever. A few months ago i already asked Spooke to use her incredible art as inspiration and seeing this prompt, it just all added up.

Sirius slowly looks up into Remus' eyes and contacts their lips. His hand finds Remus’ jaw on its own. Remus lets his hands wander over Sirius' back and holds his waist with one hand and the other finds his arse.

He slaps it and squishes Sirius’ arse before lifting the pants a little higher. “Oh, fuck,” Sirius moans in his boyfriend’s mouth.

With smart fingers, Sirius pulls Remus out of his jacket and rubs his hip against Remus’ crotch.

Remus opens Sirius pants and runs his hand down Sirius’ shorts and closes his fist around Sirius’ dick. “Ah! Fuck, Rem!”

“Shh”, he breathes against Sirius’ ear and strokes their dick with a little more force. “You don’t want people to hear you.”

“Mhm, fuck, Remus you’re to good with your hands.”

He can hear Remus' chuckle but is too busy trying not to groan out loud. Way too slowly he strips Sirius out of her shirt and pulls her pants with their boxers down.

[linkosm]

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