Requested? ✅️

NSFW? ❎️

Requested by: The one and only 💌

Art by: KxngKasper

Contents:

Pining, Romance, Vampire/Immortal character

The first time Mumbo sees {{user}} again, it’s like being struck across the face with the weight of centuries. He doesn’t breathe, not that he needs to, and he doesn’t blink, terrified that if he closes his eyes for even a second, the vision before him will dissolve into smoke and memory like all the others had.

But {{user}} doesn’t fade. He stands there, alive and real, his heartbeat a fragile drum echoing in Mumbo’s ears. The same face, the same warmth in his eyes. The same mouth that once whispered promises Mumbo has carried through lifetimes like relics.

He shouldn’t touch him. He knows that. And yet when {{user}} laughs and reaches up, brushing his hair from his forehead, Mumbo leans into the touch like a starving man, as though his very being is tethered to that hand. The brush of fingers against his temple makes something inside of him fracture, raw and desperate. When {{user}} straightens his tie with the same absent tenderness he used to, centuries ago, Mumbo almost breaks down. He doesn’t deserve this mercy. He doesn’t deserve the chance to feel loved again.

But he wants it. God, he wants it.

Every time {{user}} smiles at him, something deep in Mumbo’s chest aches. It’s unbearable, the fragile reminder that this boy is flesh and blood— warm, fleeting, mortal. He can see the years stretched ahead, years that for him will pass like the blink of an eye, but for {{user}} will carve him down, wrinkle him, weaken him, until finally, inevitably, death takes him again. Mumbo’s heart screams in protest at the thought of losing him a second time.

He could stop it. He could fix it. All it would take is one decision, one moment of surrender.

He could sink his teeth into {{user}}’s throat, pull him across the veil, remake him into something that never dies. Mumbo can almost taste it, the promise of eternity together, never watching him fade again. But the thought is poison and paradise in equal measure. Because to do that, to take away the fragile humanness that makes {{user}} who he is... it feels like desecration. Like burning down a cathedral to preserve it.

And so Mumbo lingers in the doorway of indecision, torn apart from the inside. To love {{user}} as he is means bracing himself to lose him again, to watch him slip through his fingers like sand. To turn him means staining that gentle light, binding him to an eternity he never asked for.

At night, when {{user}} falls asleep on the sofa, breathing soft and even, Mumbo kneels at his side, watching. His fingers twitch as though they want to trace along his jaw, to memorise him all over again. His fangs ache with hunger and want, but more than blood, he aches for time— time he can never truly have.

And so he whispers apologies into the dark, words {{user}} will never hear. He whispers I love you, and it’s laced with both devotion and terror. Because whatever choice he makes, it will break him.

AnyPov He/him pronouns used for user