Bleeding Out
Title: Bleeding Out
Rating: R
Length: 2583
Warnings: vampires
Summary: Yixing meets his love incarnate-who is a vampire hunter. Yixing just happens to be a vampire.
Notes: bad summary but basically xing’s like hey. im sad and old and u look like my long lost love so let me tell u my life story. L, thanks for believing in me <3
He had stayed with him. Even when everything had changed, he had stayed. And every single day, Yixing regrets not doing the same. They had done everything together, until the coughs had begun to wrack his fragile body. He had gone through the painfully slow process of death alone, and Yixing had merely watched, offered useless words, and held his hand ever so carefully. And when he had died, he did that alone too. Because he had made Yixing promise not to follow.
Yixing had never broken any of their promises, but he had wanted so badly to break that one.
Because it’s hard. It’s hard to go on alone without someone to hold his hand, keep him warm at night, tell him that it’s fine; everything's fine. It had never been fine, but Yixing had appreciated the little lies. And now they’re gone and Yixing is alone. But somehow he manages. If only to keep his promise. Even in death, Yixing will not disappoint him.
☾
“Yixing!”
He cracks open an eye, staring up at the startled face hovering above him. He realizes that he has no idea what time it is the same moment he becomes aware of the yelling in the distance. Carefully, he heaves himself out of the cushions and stands beside the smaller creature, eyeing the trembling body. He doesn’t remembering the name of this one, but knows that he is human. “What is going on?”
“It’s hunters, they’re-they’ve taken the great hall and all the rooms on the first floor,” he lets out a stuttering breath, “I have to wake the others. Tell them to hide. They’re coming-”
Yixing lays a hand on the human and he stills. “Go hide,” he commands, watching with a careful eye as the trembling ceases and the creature nods slightly, heading for Yixing’s mess of blankets and pillows. Good. There shouldn’t be any unnecessary bloodshed.
He marches into the hallway, robes billowing behind him and door slamming shut. He’s been staying with this particular coven for a little over three centuries; they don’t ask questions and they leave him be, which is all that he could want. He doesn’t approve of their feeding habits, or the way they steal people from nearby villages when in need of fledglings, but had thought the cathedral they had claimed was buried far enough into the mountains to prevent any repercussions. Apparently he was wrong.
Yixing plans his exit. He’ll have to get to the dungeons, hide in the caverns beneath the building until the light has left the sky. He’ll have to fight his way through the first floor to get there, but that’s fine. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement by the staircase. A second later, he’s holding the hunter by his neck and crushes it in his hand just as quick. He throws the lifeless body aside and grimaces.
The main floor is a mess. The fledglings are trying to fight of course, because they do not know any better, but they are slow and do not yet know the extent of their abilities. The elders have likely fled already, or are still asleep. Yixing supposes that it’s a little bit of both as he sidesteps a hunter and fledgling locked in combat and ducks beneath a flying piece of wood. He supposes it’s meant to be a stake.
He almost wishes it had struck him.
The stairs leading to the dungeons are hidden beneath one of the tables in the feeding room, and Yixing makes his way there swiftly, with only minimal trouble. He knocks aside the table and kneels, pushing the rug aside to reveal the rectangular door. He’s got a hand on the handle of the entrance when a thick boot prevents him from yanking the door open. Yixing could pull it open anyway, rip the door and foot from the floor, but for some reason he looks up.
And he stares.
Yixing’s good at keeping track of time. What with all the spare time he’s had, he is acutely aware of every single second, minute, hour, day that passes. But in that moment where he and the hunter lock eyes, he honestly cannot tell how much time passes.
Because it is him.
He is standing there, the figure of righteous fury, and he’s holding a gun, the barrel of which is pointing right at Yixing. And this is it, this is what he’s waited for. He’s come to take him, and all this waiting has been worth it because now they can finally do this together. Yixing hears the sound of the gun being cocked and he drops the handle of the door. Here it is.
And then he’s gone. Yixing’s on his feet as soon as he registers the sudden appearance of the fledgling and sees him on the ground, apparently knocked unconscious. And no, no, no, this is not how it’s supposed to go. The fledgling lowers his head, teeth dropping and Yixing’s on him in a second, throwing him off the still body. He spares the fledgling a look, meeting his expression of confusion with one of unparalleled fury before gathering the prone body in his arms and heading for the dungeon.
He locks the latch behind him, bending the metal to make it impossible for any other hunters to follow, and then he and the man in his arms are swallowed by the shadows.
☾
It takes hours for him to wake up again, long after the sun has fallen beneath the horizon. Yixing could flee, but he stays, eyes glued to the body on the other side of the cavern, propped up against the rock wall. Yixing is curled up across from him, chin propped on his knees. It’s only when the man begins to stir that he relaxes.
The hunter opens his eyes and Yixing’s chest grows tight. His mouth is working before he can think. “Yifan.”
The hunter’s eyes lock onto him, even in the darkness of the cave. His hand immediately goes to his waist, and then to his chest. He stands, teeth gritted and hands curled into fists at his sides. “Where is my gun, you monster?”
Yixing recoils, and then he realizes. This isn’t his Yifan. This is merely some human that looks similar to his love from forever ago-or perhaps not-it’s been hundreds of years. He may look nothing like Yifan and Yixing’s just going insane. But then the hunter stalks forward, fixing him with a murderous glare and no, this human looks exactly like his Yifan. Perhaps all is not lost. “I suppose it was knocked aside earlier. But I thought you’d have more.” The hunter doesn’t move. “No?” And then he laughs because what an utterly Yifan thing to do. His love had always rushed into things without thinking first. He stops his abrupt laughter when the hunter wraps his fingers around his neck.
“It’s no matter,” he says, the low timber of his voice reverberating in the empty caverns, “they said they would be checking all exits, so they should find us soon.” His eyes returned to meet Yixing’s. “You called me something before. What was it?”
Yixing didn’t bother clawing at the hand that held his neck in a vice grip. He could speak around it anyway. “Yifan.”
The hunter sneers. “Who is that?”
“A man,” Yixing whispers, “you remind me of him.”
“Some bloodbank no doubt,” the hunter grits out. “Well, we have time to pass and I have no means with which to kill you.”
Yixing tilts his head, loosening the hunter’s grip. “You wish me to tell you about him?”
“Best to keep you talking. And more reasons to kill you. It’ll make it easier once the others come. And,” he looks away, jaw working, “I am easily bored.”
Yixing fights a smile. This may not be the same man, but the resemblance is impeccable. He has never before believed in a higher power, not since his Yifan was taken from him, but he thanks it now for granting him a killer that wears his lover’s skin and personality. “Very well, I shall tell you about my human lover.”
The hand on his throat noticeably loosens but doesn’t disappear. The hunter looks away. “Fine.”
Yixing grins.
☾
Yixing wasn’t a creature of the night when he met Yifan. They were both very much mortal, and Yixing was a farmer, Yifan a merchant who often passed his land, offered him the best deals he’d ever had. And when Yixing was in rough spots he would accept payment in the form of produce, canned fruit, and in the worst of times, kisses. He took to staying with Yixing on his longer trips, sharing the bedroll that barely had enough space for Yixing, but they made it work.
After a year of trade of goods (and banter, lodging and a few more unsavory things) Yifan asked for Yixing’s hand to hold for eternity. They were too poor for a ceremony, but Yixing accepted gladly, and they became lovers. They still shared the single bedroll, and Yifan still spent most of his time travelling, but they spent more time together than ever before.
So it made it all the worse when an unexpected visitor dropped by when Yifan was gone, laid ruin to Yixing’s land, and left him changed forever.
When Yifan returned, he found Yixing in the basement, curled in on himself and screaming for Yifan to leave. Instead, his lover took one look at the pallid skin, red eyes, elongated teeth and pulled Yixing to him, rocking him through bloody sobs and stilling when Yixing buried his teeth in his neck. They slept in the basement that night.
And life went on. They replanted the crops together, at night, and Yifan took the produce with him to sell and switched to sleeping days when he was home. When the famine swept through the land, they survived thanks to the fact that only Yifan needed food (Yixing offered to turn him, though he didn’t know how, but Yifan refused, kissing away his weak arguments). And they thought they could go on like that, but it wasn’t meant to be.
There was a plague.
It started in the east, and Yifan was in the cities for trade when it hit. By the time he made it home, the disease was full-fledged. He couldn’t keep food down and on a particularly bad night Yixing tried to turn him with disastrous consequences-he barely stopped his love from bleeding to death. After that, Yifan didn’t leave the bedroll and Yixing didn’t leave his side.
Yifan left him in the middle of the night on a particularly cold day, shivering beneath the multitude of covers and hand cradled between both of Yixing’s.
Yixing buried him soon after with a kiss on his forehead, in the field they had spent so much time on together. Then he left for the cities that had caused such pain to his lover, his very heart and soul, and released pain on them tenfold.
☾
“You look confused.”
“You could have sucked him dry days earlier. Ended the pain.” The hunter says from beside him. He had let go ages ago, moved back to sit against the wall. “Why didn’t you?”
“I am weak,” Yixing admits. “I couldn’t cause him pain. I thought about it, but he never asked. I suppose he wanted to last as long as he could, he tried to seem strong. The fool.” He looked up to see the hunter’s face pinched in a frown and laughed. “Can you not believe a monster of the night would spare a snack?”
“I still can’t believe he didn’t kill you when you’d turned.” He watches as Yixing shrugs. “Or that you’ve stayed alive this long just because of a promise.”
“I am weak,” Yixing repeats. “I was-am worried that he’ll be angry at me if I ended my life.”
The hunter’s face screws up but he doesn’t speak. Instead, the sound of boots on the cavern floor make themselves known. Yixing watches as four hunters enter his line of sight and he breathes a sigh of relief. Soon. Soon it will end.
He closes his eyes when he sees that they have noticed him and waits sound of a bullet and the moment of pain. The sound comes soon, but the pain is suspiciously absent. A collective gasp is heard instead.
Yixing opens his eyes and sees the hunter standing before him, hand pressed to his chest. The pungent smell of blood fills the air and Yixing is on his feet, rage filling him and red clouding his vision as he takes down the four hunters and goes to the fool hunter, lying on the cavern floor and breathing hard as his life flows from him.
“Why did you do that?” Yixing snaps. His chance, snatched from him by this man. “You are a very stupid hunter.”
“I am,” the man admits, coughing. “Did you know my parents were killed by a plague that swept through our town? They told me to keep on living, too. And I thought the best way to do that was by killing death itself. I think-” He chokes suddenly and Yixing finds himself on his knees at this man’s side, propping his head as he coughs up blood. “I think Yifan would be angry.”
Yixing snarls despite himself.
“I do. If you waited this long, there must be a reason.” He laughs. “Sorry. It’s just-I’m dying, and a monster is going to be the last one I talk to-this is a joke.”
Yixing stays silent.
“You sounded like you really loved him,” Yifan whispers, “I didn’t want that to go to waste. Love is… rare.” His eyes fall shut.
Yixing becomes suddenly aware that the red haze in his vision is blood. He’s crying blood for the second time in his life, the same body in his arms. The same heartbeat fading in his ears. And he’s suddenly angry-so angry that this is happening again, that he’s forced to go through with this again.
That’s the only reason he tries it.
He bites deep into his not-lovers neck, missing the artery he’d ripped into all those years ago, and he drinks deep. He follows the steps he’s seen the others do almost daily for a hundred years, bites into his wrist and hold it over the hunter’s open mouth. If he’s forced to live in this unending hell, this man can join him. That’s what he deserves, for taking away his only escape.
But as time passes, his anger ebbs.
The man lies still, heartbeat barely more than a murmur. When the sun sets once more, Yixing’s eyes have run dry. He’s curled in on himself when the soft heartbeat ends, and he sobs silently into his legs, allowing himself to be weak just this once.
And then a groan echoes through the cavern.
Yixing’s head snaps up, watching as the hunter pushes himself before, and promptly looks to the four fallen bodies with a kind of surprised fear. But the hunter had known…
Yixing’s never dared to hope. But he does it now.
“Yifan.”
The hunter turns to him, pallid face lighting up with a spectacular smile, eyes filling with bloody tears. He gives a surprised laugh and this is him.
“Yixing,” he says, voice soft, “you kept your promise.”
Rating: R
Length: 2583
Warnings: vampires
Summary: Yixing meets his love incarnate-who is a vampire hunter. Yixing just happens to be a vampire.
Notes: bad summary but basically xing’s like hey. im sad and old and u look like my long lost love so let me tell u my life story. L, thanks for believing in me <3
He had stayed with him. Even when everything had changed, he had stayed. And every single day, Yixing regrets not doing the same. They had done everything together, until the coughs had begun to wrack his fragile body. He had gone through the painfully slow process of death alone, and Yixing had merely watched, offered useless words, and held his hand ever so carefully. And when he had died, he did that alone too. Because he had made Yixing promise not to follow.
Yixing had never broken any of their promises, but he had wanted so badly to break that one.
Because it’s hard. It’s hard to go on alone without someone to hold his hand, keep him warm at night, tell him that it’s fine; everything's fine. It had never been fine, but Yixing had appreciated the little lies. And now they’re gone and Yixing is alone. But somehow he manages. If only to keep his promise. Even in death, Yixing will not disappoint him.
☾
“Yixing!”
He cracks open an eye, staring up at the startled face hovering above him. He realizes that he has no idea what time it is the same moment he becomes aware of the yelling in the distance. Carefully, he heaves himself out of the cushions and stands beside the smaller creature, eyeing the trembling body. He doesn’t remembering the name of this one, but knows that he is human. “What is going on?”
“It’s hunters, they’re-they’ve taken the great hall and all the rooms on the first floor,” he lets out a stuttering breath, “I have to wake the others. Tell them to hide. They’re coming-”
Yixing lays a hand on the human and he stills. “Go hide,” he commands, watching with a careful eye as the trembling ceases and the creature nods slightly, heading for Yixing’s mess of blankets and pillows. Good. There shouldn’t be any unnecessary bloodshed.
He marches into the hallway, robes billowing behind him and door slamming shut. He’s been staying with this particular coven for a little over three centuries; they don’t ask questions and they leave him be, which is all that he could want. He doesn’t approve of their feeding habits, or the way they steal people from nearby villages when in need of fledglings, but had thought the cathedral they had claimed was buried far enough into the mountains to prevent any repercussions. Apparently he was wrong.
Yixing plans his exit. He’ll have to get to the dungeons, hide in the caverns beneath the building until the light has left the sky. He’ll have to fight his way through the first floor to get there, but that’s fine. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement by the staircase. A second later, he’s holding the hunter by his neck and crushes it in his hand just as quick. He throws the lifeless body aside and grimaces.
The main floor is a mess. The fledglings are trying to fight of course, because they do not know any better, but they are slow and do not yet know the extent of their abilities. The elders have likely fled already, or are still asleep. Yixing supposes that it’s a little bit of both as he sidesteps a hunter and fledgling locked in combat and ducks beneath a flying piece of wood. He supposes it’s meant to be a stake.
He almost wishes it had struck him.
The stairs leading to the dungeons are hidden beneath one of the tables in the feeding room, and Yixing makes his way there swiftly, with only minimal trouble. He knocks aside the table and kneels, pushing the rug aside to reveal the rectangular door. He’s got a hand on the handle of the entrance when a thick boot prevents him from yanking the door open. Yixing could pull it open anyway, rip the door and foot from the floor, but for some reason he looks up.
And he stares.
Yixing’s good at keeping track of time. What with all the spare time he’s had, he is acutely aware of every single second, minute, hour, day that passes. But in that moment where he and the hunter lock eyes, he honestly cannot tell how much time passes.
Because it is him.
He is standing there, the figure of righteous fury, and he’s holding a gun, the barrel of which is pointing right at Yixing. And this is it, this is what he’s waited for. He’s come to take him, and all this waiting has been worth it because now they can finally do this together. Yixing hears the sound of the gun being cocked and he drops the handle of the door. Here it is.
And then he’s gone. Yixing’s on his feet as soon as he registers the sudden appearance of the fledgling and sees him on the ground, apparently knocked unconscious. And no, no, no, this is not how it’s supposed to go. The fledgling lowers his head, teeth dropping and Yixing’s on him in a second, throwing him off the still body. He spares the fledgling a look, meeting his expression of confusion with one of unparalleled fury before gathering the prone body in his arms and heading for the dungeon.
He locks the latch behind him, bending the metal to make it impossible for any other hunters to follow, and then he and the man in his arms are swallowed by the shadows.
☾
It takes hours for him to wake up again, long after the sun has fallen beneath the horizon. Yixing could flee, but he stays, eyes glued to the body on the other side of the cavern, propped up against the rock wall. Yixing is curled up across from him, chin propped on his knees. It’s only when the man begins to stir that he relaxes.
The hunter opens his eyes and Yixing’s chest grows tight. His mouth is working before he can think. “Yifan.”
The hunter’s eyes lock onto him, even in the darkness of the cave. His hand immediately goes to his waist, and then to his chest. He stands, teeth gritted and hands curled into fists at his sides. “Where is my gun, you monster?”
Yixing recoils, and then he realizes. This isn’t his Yifan. This is merely some human that looks similar to his love from forever ago-or perhaps not-it’s been hundreds of years. He may look nothing like Yifan and Yixing’s just going insane. But then the hunter stalks forward, fixing him with a murderous glare and no, this human looks exactly like his Yifan. Perhaps all is not lost. “I suppose it was knocked aside earlier. But I thought you’d have more.” The hunter doesn’t move. “No?” And then he laughs because what an utterly Yifan thing to do. His love had always rushed into things without thinking first. He stops his abrupt laughter when the hunter wraps his fingers around his neck.
“It’s no matter,” he says, the low timber of his voice reverberating in the empty caverns, “they said they would be checking all exits, so they should find us soon.” His eyes returned to meet Yixing’s. “You called me something before. What was it?”
Yixing didn’t bother clawing at the hand that held his neck in a vice grip. He could speak around it anyway. “Yifan.”
The hunter sneers. “Who is that?”
“A man,” Yixing whispers, “you remind me of him.”
“Some bloodbank no doubt,” the hunter grits out. “Well, we have time to pass and I have no means with which to kill you.”
Yixing tilts his head, loosening the hunter’s grip. “You wish me to tell you about him?”
“Best to keep you talking. And more reasons to kill you. It’ll make it easier once the others come. And,” he looks away, jaw working, “I am easily bored.”
Yixing fights a smile. This may not be the same man, but the resemblance is impeccable. He has never before believed in a higher power, not since his Yifan was taken from him, but he thanks it now for granting him a killer that wears his lover’s skin and personality. “Very well, I shall tell you about my human lover.”
The hand on his throat noticeably loosens but doesn’t disappear. The hunter looks away. “Fine.”
Yixing grins.
☾
Yixing wasn’t a creature of the night when he met Yifan. They were both very much mortal, and Yixing was a farmer, Yifan a merchant who often passed his land, offered him the best deals he’d ever had. And when Yixing was in rough spots he would accept payment in the form of produce, canned fruit, and in the worst of times, kisses. He took to staying with Yixing on his longer trips, sharing the bedroll that barely had enough space for Yixing, but they made it work.
After a year of trade of goods (and banter, lodging and a few more unsavory things) Yifan asked for Yixing’s hand to hold for eternity. They were too poor for a ceremony, but Yixing accepted gladly, and they became lovers. They still shared the single bedroll, and Yifan still spent most of his time travelling, but they spent more time together than ever before.
So it made it all the worse when an unexpected visitor dropped by when Yifan was gone, laid ruin to Yixing’s land, and left him changed forever.
When Yifan returned, he found Yixing in the basement, curled in on himself and screaming for Yifan to leave. Instead, his lover took one look at the pallid skin, red eyes, elongated teeth and pulled Yixing to him, rocking him through bloody sobs and stilling when Yixing buried his teeth in his neck. They slept in the basement that night.
And life went on. They replanted the crops together, at night, and Yifan took the produce with him to sell and switched to sleeping days when he was home. When the famine swept through the land, they survived thanks to the fact that only Yifan needed food (Yixing offered to turn him, though he didn’t know how, but Yifan refused, kissing away his weak arguments). And they thought they could go on like that, but it wasn’t meant to be.
There was a plague.
It started in the east, and Yifan was in the cities for trade when it hit. By the time he made it home, the disease was full-fledged. He couldn’t keep food down and on a particularly bad night Yixing tried to turn him with disastrous consequences-he barely stopped his love from bleeding to death. After that, Yifan didn’t leave the bedroll and Yixing didn’t leave his side.
Yifan left him in the middle of the night on a particularly cold day, shivering beneath the multitude of covers and hand cradled between both of Yixing’s.
Yixing buried him soon after with a kiss on his forehead, in the field they had spent so much time on together. Then he left for the cities that had caused such pain to his lover, his very heart and soul, and released pain on them tenfold.
☾
“You look confused.”
“You could have sucked him dry days earlier. Ended the pain.” The hunter says from beside him. He had let go ages ago, moved back to sit against the wall. “Why didn’t you?”
“I am weak,” Yixing admits. “I couldn’t cause him pain. I thought about it, but he never asked. I suppose he wanted to last as long as he could, he tried to seem strong. The fool.” He looked up to see the hunter’s face pinched in a frown and laughed. “Can you not believe a monster of the night would spare a snack?”
“I still can’t believe he didn’t kill you when you’d turned.” He watches as Yixing shrugs. “Or that you’ve stayed alive this long just because of a promise.”
“I am weak,” Yixing repeats. “I was-am worried that he’ll be angry at me if I ended my life.”
The hunter’s face screws up but he doesn’t speak. Instead, the sound of boots on the cavern floor make themselves known. Yixing watches as four hunters enter his line of sight and he breathes a sigh of relief. Soon. Soon it will end.
He closes his eyes when he sees that they have noticed him and waits sound of a bullet and the moment of pain. The sound comes soon, but the pain is suspiciously absent. A collective gasp is heard instead.
Yixing opens his eyes and sees the hunter standing before him, hand pressed to his chest. The pungent smell of blood fills the air and Yixing is on his feet, rage filling him and red clouding his vision as he takes down the four hunters and goes to the fool hunter, lying on the cavern floor and breathing hard as his life flows from him.
“Why did you do that?” Yixing snaps. His chance, snatched from him by this man. “You are a very stupid hunter.”
“I am,” the man admits, coughing. “Did you know my parents were killed by a plague that swept through our town? They told me to keep on living, too. And I thought the best way to do that was by killing death itself. I think-” He chokes suddenly and Yixing finds himself on his knees at this man’s side, propping his head as he coughs up blood. “I think Yifan would be angry.”
Yixing snarls despite himself.
“I do. If you waited this long, there must be a reason.” He laughs. “Sorry. It’s just-I’m dying, and a monster is going to be the last one I talk to-this is a joke.”
Yixing stays silent.
“You sounded like you really loved him,” Yifan whispers, “I didn’t want that to go to waste. Love is… rare.” His eyes fall shut.
Yixing becomes suddenly aware that the red haze in his vision is blood. He’s crying blood for the second time in his life, the same body in his arms. The same heartbeat fading in his ears. And he’s suddenly angry-so angry that this is happening again, that he’s forced to go through with this again.
That’s the only reason he tries it.
He bites deep into his not-lovers neck, missing the artery he’d ripped into all those years ago, and he drinks deep. He follows the steps he’s seen the others do almost daily for a hundred years, bites into his wrist and hold it over the hunter’s open mouth. If he’s forced to live in this unending hell, this man can join him. That’s what he deserves, for taking away his only escape.
But as time passes, his anger ebbs.
The man lies still, heartbeat barely more than a murmur. When the sun sets once more, Yixing’s eyes have run dry. He’s curled in on himself when the soft heartbeat ends, and he sobs silently into his legs, allowing himself to be weak just this once.
And then a groan echoes through the cavern.
Yixing’s head snaps up, watching as the hunter pushes himself before, and promptly looks to the four fallen bodies with a kind of surprised fear. But the hunter had known…
Yixing’s never dared to hope. But he does it now.
“Yifan.”
The hunter turns to him, pallid face lighting up with a spectacular smile, eyes filling with bloody tears. He gives a surprised laugh and this is him.
“Yixing,” he says, voice soft, “you kept your promise.”