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Hi. Hello. Thank you for joining me! I'm Z! I'm an original fiction writer and enjoyer of Alan Wake 1&2, The Bear, NBA, and good cinema. I also do a bunch of other things I don't feature on this blog: knitting, crocheting, dyeing yarn, painting, drawing, sewing, embroidery, any other craft that looks remotely interesting for 5 minutes. I write a lot and tag everything as well as I can.
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Black Box Warning (Vampire!Jalen Brunson) Ch 2: Pressure is on AO3
Black Box Warning (4448 words) by Midnight_Fables
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: Men's Basketball RPF
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Jalen Brunson/Original Female Character
Characters: Jalen Brunson, Original Female Character(s), Josh Hart
Additional Tags: Vampire AU, Vampires, Vampire Bites, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, POV First Person, Brunson is accidentally my most fascinating vampire, I have no idea where this is going, please enjoy the ride or forgive the author
Series: Part 8 of NBA Vampire AU
Summary:
Black Box Warning (n.)--The most stringent safety warning the FDA can require from a drug manufacturer, noting there is significant risk of serious or life-threatening side-effects of taking the drug.
Jalen's apparently one of the sweetest dudes in the world. Got word from a homegirl that the West Coordinator calls Brunson the “Jamal Murray of the East.” Every vampire manager’s fuckin’ wet dream of a vamp who is even-keeled, level-headed, doesn’t rage, doesn’t fight, doesn’t bite, is perfectly happy with minimal blood packs, has a diet already dialed in, listens, learns, will pay out-of-pocket for your accommodations so you’re not getting wrung out into a sleep-deprived raisin throughout the season.
But the fact that he even needed a new vampire manager should’ve been some kind of a warning sign.
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I’m in Poland, got unlucky with the heatwave though. Warsaw is beautiful, Chopin is a favorite of mine so it’s wonderful to see his homeland. Any ways, how do the national teams deal with Luka and Nikola?
I don’t remember if you’ve said if they are at least internally out about their vampness to the national teams or not, but I think it would be nice is they had some sort of brotherhood there. I also wonder if they feed into Nikola’s Jokicness, him being a by all accounts bad vampire, does the national teams create hunting parties for the vamps while their on the team? Or do they take over the brother’s duty, trying to at least rein him in a little. Though of course Nikola’s brothers are just as bad as him. Maybe a little smarter, sure, but still with the same corrupted moral compass.
- crow
BIRD!! :D :D
Ugh, sorry about the heatwave (to you and for all the people currently experiencing it). The environmental justice part of the environmental scientist in me has been screaming seeing the reports of the heat. If anyone reading this is in a heat advisory area, Europe or not, PLEASE remember to check on elderly and vulnerable neighbors if you’re able to (single parents, families with small kids, disabled people, especially people with lower income).
Onto the questions!
Are Luka and Jokić Out as Vamps to the International Teams?
Hmmm. I want to say that Jok is, but Luka isn’t.
On Jokić:
Jok is out to the national team, and for the most part, they probably don’t need to rein him in that much. They probably willingly allow Jok to be possessive and protective of him (for the uninitiated: possessive means that Jok wants exclusivity from a blood donor, and protective means that Jok doesn’t want people he cares about—whether they’re blood donors or not—to be around unfamiliar vampires) because he doesn’t actually mean any harm and it doesn’t hurt him at all if he’s known as a vampire. He’s just wired to be super possessive and protective. And trying to fight that instinct means he’s expending more energy in trying to “behave” than he is trying to play ball or enjoy being alive.
I think Nikola’s problem behaviors mostly manifest in the U.S. There’s a cultural disconnect where his possessiveness and protectiveness are seen as faults in the U.S. (vs in Serbia, where they’re just considered morally neutral as long as both parties are consenting to it), and also a cultural disconnect where Jok has to hide his status as a vampire to safely play in the NBA (and also escape the civil rights ramifications). I imagine the bros form a kind of insulated barrier around Nikola in the U.S. to keep him from acting out of sorts—and that probably accidentally contributes to Nikola feeling like a trapped animal and needing to act out. It’s why he needs to be possessive and protective of Luka, Jamal, AG, his family, why he “acted out” and went after CB. That instinctive wiring won’t suddenly stop working because he’s across an ocean, but at the same time, he does need to respect the culture he’s in or deal with the consequences of disrespecting it (hence why the Jok Bros form a cushion around him).
Jok isn’t necessarily a bad vampire. He’s morally more ambiguous than a U.S. American vampire, and that’s cultural more than anything else. His main problem is that he’s spoiled. He gets what he wants, and what he wants is to bite people (because, and this is important: Jok only bites people because he wantsto. He could easily survive off blood packs). The Jok Bros aren’t spoiled; they know the social rules and they follow them for the benefit of themselves and their families. This AU doesn’t operate on the Just-World Hypothesis (where it is believed that good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people)—Jok, ambiguous moral compass and all, just happens to be spoiled and get away with it. It’s infuriating. I’m sure everyone knows someone like this. Exploring this kind of character is the point XD.
On Luka:
Luka’s status as a vampire is very quiet, partially because he went vampire while already in the NBA (more on this in the second chapter of the Brunson fic, currently titled “Black Box Warning”), and partially because he’s a Vampire Moth and Flame (super rare), which, paired with his generally permissive personality, makes him really vulnerable to more imposing vampires. It’s a safety thing. He’s also cushioned by the Jok Bros, who have extended their umbrella of protection to include Luka (partially because Jok is so attached to him, and partially because Luka’s part-Serb; they will just protect their own).
He has informed team management that he’s a vampire, but team management generally keeps it quiet from players and even training staff, more to protect Luka than anything else. He’s free to tell them if he wishes (he doesn’t).
They already have a lot of experience managing Luka being a Moth and a Flame—he didn’t suddenly become one upon going vampire. He’s always been drawn to vamps and he’s always drawn in vamps (in “Like Any Other Disease,” Jok is clearly enthralled by him and has been for years). Real Madrid also knew this, and the team and team management had a huge hand in protecting him from unscrupulous vampires.
Luka also doesn’t need to bite people, so the team doesn’t feed him, nor do they arrange for him to be fed. He has pretty good impulse control—so long as his possessiveness is not being challenged (which is what’s happening in “Well-Behaved”), so he’s fine with blood packs and a tuned diet.
On Both of Them Being in the NBA:
Because both of them are in the NBA and any evidence of them being vampires would be detrimental to their careers, they (along with all other NBA vampire players of international origin) have to be quiet about their vampire status. There are probably a lot of international basketball players on the national teams who are publicly out as vampires—they have guaranteed they’ll never be NBA players. It’s the decision they’ve made. It’s a shitty decision to have to make, sure, and the world would be easier if vamps were just allowed to exist in whatever capacity they wanted to (within reason) in the NBA.
Thank you for the questions, this was fun to think about. Enjoy Poland on my behalf (since I can’t fly due to health)!
I am in Europe currently and that has made me think, how has Nikola and Luka’s Balkanness affected them being vamps in the NBA? Do they get off easier, the stereotypical American ideals of Vamps just don’t fit them or on the other hand is it harder for them. They’re outsiders already, it would be easy to throw a vampire accusation at them.
- bird
BIRDDDDD!!!
Ooooh, where in Europe?? How is it? Hopefully it’s been fun!
As always, you ask EXCELLENT questions.
Because neither Luka nor Jok have been outed as vamps, for the most part, they just get the usual American xenophobia against European players (yuck). They’re probably getting more vampire accusations just because there’s some terrible stereotype that “most vampires are Europeans” or some nonsense like that. It probably is coming from some truth—the Balkans and the Mediterranean region might have a slightly higher proportion of vampires, or maybe the numbers are better estimated because being a vampire isn’t a huge social hindrance so more vamps are more likely to just admit they’re vamps—but it’s still probably being bent outta shape by American dramaticism and social media. Despite more frequently being accused of being vampires, the accusations are probably taken with the same level of seriousness as any other accusation (which is to say: not very), if it’s coming from fans. If another player accused them of being vampires without any substantial proof, then their status as megastars probably does way more to protect them than anything else. If someone were to bring actual evidence and, say, level a formal accusation or file a whistleblower complaint… rubs chin thoughtfully.
The players who DO know them as vamps (and front offices and manager organizations who are keeping track of them/helping manage them) DO treat them a bit differently.
How Well Are Balkan Vampires Known in the League?
I think Balkan vamps are not very well-known. There aren’t a lot of Balkan players, even fewer Balkan vamps—not very well-known. So front offices and management orgs are kind of messes when dealing with them. In AU canon, Luka was traded by the Mavs because they couldn’t handle his vampire-ness (somehow. I haven’t worked out the details of exactly how they couldn’t deal with him). The Jok Bros and Jamal Murray are pretty key in helping manage Jok (have y’all noticed that Jok doesn’t have a vampire manager at all??).
Front offices are wary of them. Any team playing against the Nuggets or the Lakers (formerly the Mavs) had internal mechanisms in place in case Jok or Luka lost their shit. Coaches had to walk a thin line of telling their team to take it to ‘em while also making sure they didn’t take it to ‘em hard enough to, say, start a fight (because—and I can’t remember if I stated this clearly anywhere else before—ANY vampire getting outed in the league would be CATASTROPHIC for the ENTIRE LEAGUE).
Vampire management orgs have shortlists of possible managers at all times in case something goes sideways. They also have lists for other players—notably really hot-blooded American bloodlines—but they’re expecting something to go tits up with the Balkans before the Americans, just because there’s this constant sense of dread about them, since Balkan vamps are less understood than American vamps.
What Sets Balkan Vampires Apart from American Vampires? Y’know, for us readers.
Some biology, some psychology, and a lot of culture. We turn, again, to a table. Note: these are generalizations and don’t account for individual variations. For example: Jokić is an extremely possessive vampire.
* Tempering Ability—The ability to train the body to produce less venom and therefore require less frequent biting of people or oranges.
** Possessiveness—How much a vampire wants exclusivity from a bite partner. A very possessive vampire refuses to let anyone else bite the person(s) they’re biting. A less possessive vampire will allow other vampires to bite the same person(s) they do.
** Protectiveness—How much a vampire wants to protect the person(s) they associate with their in-group, usually from exposure to unfamiliar vampires. Also sometimes referred to as how territorial a vampire is.
*** Susceptibility to Flames—How well a Flame will draw in any vampire (not just a Moth vampire).
Cultural Differences
Possessiveness is considered dangerous behavior in need of correcting in America; Balkan culture doesn’t see it as taboo.
American vampire culture encourages social events where vampires openly look for meals (called Hunting Parties); Balkan culture would NEVER do such a thing because it’s considered vulgar and profane.
Openly talking about biting and drinking blood is absolutely unacceptable in America; it’s acceptable in Balkan culture, except for in polite company.
Openly asking if someone is a vampire is a social faux pas in America; asking if someone is a vampire in Balkan states is about as normal as talking about the weather.
Thanks again for the excellent questions, Bird! This was a fun one to think about!
Black Box Warning (Vampire!Jalen Brunson) Ch 1: Simple is Usually Safe
AO3 link!
NBA Vampire AU Worldbuilding Masterlist!
Jalen Brunson needs a new vampire manager and decides to conduct an in-person interview for the position. (3101 words)
Vampire!Jalen Brunson, fem!Reader, vampire AU, referenced/implied self-harm, POV first person, Brunson is accidentally the most interesting vampire I've written so far.
Writing time: 20 hours, 39 minutes
MANAGER'S PERSPECTIVE
When I got to the Knicks, I was told to be careful of Brunson.
No, seriously. That’s exactly what my boss told me. Be careful of Brunson. No reason given (not that I asked him right then; I assumed it was because he picked up the worst parts of American bloodline chicanery or he was a spoiled, rich little fucking brat), no explanation offered. Didn’t even give me a spotter during the first meeting. I was just at a coffee shop by my absolute lonesome meeting up with a vampire who necessitated an entire-ass Black Box Warning preceding the flight to New York—and that was without any accurate information on what exactly made him so dangerous. And I asked! I asked a lot! Does he have bad venom? Does he have one of those razor mouths that are lined with sharp teeth? Does he have a high body count already? Is he overly possessive? Does he have the maddest berserker rage this side of the Atlantic? Is this fuck somehow worse than Jokić? Was anyone gonna tell me anything?
And I tried looking into shit myself. I asked around my regional org, friends, friends-of-friends in the business. No horror stories. Nothing. The opposite, in fact. Jalen’s apparently one of the sweetest dudes in the world. Got word from a homegirl that the West Coordinator calls Brunson the “Jamal Murray of the East.” Every vampire manager’s fuckin’ wet dream of a vamp who is even-keeled, level-headed, doesn’t rage, doesn’t fight, doesn’t bite, is perfectly happy with minimal blood packs, has a diet already dialed in, listens, learns, will pay out-of-pocket for your accommodations so you’re not getting wrung out into a sleep-deprived raisin throughout the season.
But the fact that he even needed a new vampire manager should’ve been some kind of a warning sign.
Usually, an NBA player needing a new vampire manager partway through their career only happens when something catastrophic occurs. From what I gathered, his previous guide just moved back to her home country because of family circumstances. Must’ve been hellacious because being a manager for Jalen Brunson must’ve paid a fuckton. Whatever. He’s gone through vampirism, he’s supposed to be in a stable state, he technically shouldn’t need a full-time manager anymore. Maybe a part-time one who could be on away games to advocate for him and hover around him during the offseason to make sure he’s not going to decline or spiral. Not that he seems prone to either.
But, here I was, tucked into a booth in a hideaway corner at a tiny-ass boutique coffee shop in Manhattan just before the start of the 2025-2026 season for a first-meeting with my potential client. For a full-time position. I wasn’t even in the top 20 possible best fits for his manager—I’m a newbie, okay? I just got here. I belong with some innocuous little rookie who will burn bright for a couple years and then peter out, and then I would do that for like 10 years, and then I might get to be on the list of people fighting to get at like a Cooper Flagg or a Dylan Harper. I don’t even like the city. I’m from Bumfuck Nowhere. I have a tiny-ass apartment in some pathetic-ass speck of civilization spawned into existence next to corn fields, I don’t have connections anywhere, I don’t come from money, I don’t know money, I didn’t even care about basketball until Luka Dončić was traded and my classmates wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. I was aiming for some random assignment in some D1 college! For football. And the New York Knicks requested me? For Brunson?
If it wasn’t for the astronomical pay package they proposed and my sheer curiosity at how the universe was going to fuck me over this time, I probably wouldn’t’ve even replied to the email.
Because, seriously.
What in the actual hell?
A low, raspy voice mumbled my name.
I find it funny that people talk about Brunson like he’s some pint-sized creature you could carry around on your shoulder like some skinny little purse dog—you know the type; scruffy, can’t quite figure out if it’s endearing or insulting to call it ugly—when he is, in fact, 6-foot-2 and no string bean. He showed up to the meeting in a black tracksuit, dark gray t-shirt, and a black NY ballcap keeping his braids out of the way and shielding his eyes from overhead lights. He’s bigger than broadcast makes him look, and the camera’s supposed to add 10 pounds, right? No, this dude’s sneakily kinda huge. Looks normal. Dresses average. That tracksuit’s probably worth more than a whole paycheck for me, but he dresses like he’s a normal pedestrian, and it’s not just because we’re meeting in a coffee shop at fuck-you-o-clock. I can appreciate that.
“You don’t seriously expect me to call you that, do you?” he grumbled.
“What? My name?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He stuck a hand out. “Jalen.”
I shook it. “I know.” For some reason, I expected him to crush my hand, but he didn’t.
“It’s not Mr. Brunson. Ever.”
I nodded. Got it.
He glanced around the shop, seemed pleased enough with the lay of the land—as he probably should’ve been, since he picked the place—and slid into the booth opposite of me. “Don’t y’all usually go for, like, codenames or some shit for anonymity or… whatever?”
Oh. Right. “Yeah. It’s for your guys’ safety more than anything. People can and will find out anything they can about anyone they can nowadays.”
“I’ll take the extra safety.” He flipped a menu over to me. Yeah, this is one of those little coffee places that has menus at the tables, apparently. “What’chu want? And what am I callin’ you?”
He dragged the fabric of my skirt against my shin as he stretched his legs out under my seat. Should’ve gone for the table in the other corner. More legroom. For a not tiny dude.
“Uh,” I glanced over the menu. Too many words in too many funky fonts. “Probably just a standard Americano, one sugar.”
His eyes stayed fixed on a server by the counter, but the corner of his mouth turned up. “Safe.”
“Simple.”
“Simple can be safe.”
“Simple is usually safe,” I said.
“You gonna give me a name or am I gonna have to pick one for you?”
He still didn’t make eye-contact. Was more focused on being comfortable, apparently, because he turned and scooted so that he was sitting across the entire booth seat with his legs draped across it and his back to the brick wall. He’s supposed to be a sweetheart, right? Why is he giving me dumbass-frat-boy-who-thinks-the-rules-should-bend-to-him vibes, then?
A server came over, and he spoke before I could.
“Regular Americano, one sugar, and a regular iced almond latte, please.”
Admittedly, it took me a second to register what he said. Guy’s got a hell of a case of the mumbles. The server nodded and took off. Jalen tilted his head. One time, righted it immediately after, eyes still locked somewhere in the distance. I didn’t think to get a look at his pupils before he turned in his seat, so I couldn’t tell if it was a reflexive hunger tic or if he just tends to do that anyway.
I guess that’s also something weird about him: I don’t have much. Like, he went vampire sometime in 2021, and his previous handler was from a sister org out in the Western Conference. Even if Dallas wanted to be assholes (or uber self-protective) and hold his medical record hostage, once he made landfall in New York in 2022, our current org would’ve been responsible for his handler and case transfer, so I should have a binder of information on him. Any complications through transition, bite preferences, diet, teeth arrangement, all the blood tests, venom tests, behavioral profile, any hazard warnings, past incidents, daily logs from his previous handler—I should’ve had too much to sort through in a year, let alone a month.
Instead, I had a thin dossier with basic information that anyone would have, a cursory nod towards a medical history, a typed memo summarizing his transition in Dallas as fraught and turbulent, another memo noting he was not a bite risk, and an initial venom load test that was exactly in line with a mixed-American bloodline vampire—which is to say moderate production, weak, almost innocuous, responded well to tempering. I got through it in 20 minutes. Then spent two weeks sending out unanswered emails and leaving unreturned voicemails. I even called some of his old teammates in Dallas and got bupkis. It’s like everything and everyone in the universe was conspiring against me, dangling a carrot on a stick in front of me.
Because who in the fuck is Jalen Brunson and why can’t I figure out anything about him?
“So, why this place, Jalen?”
“As public a place as I can be in; figured you’d feel safer.” He answered like he was expecting the question.
Huh? “Not, like, the office or the training facility?”
He was shaking his head halfway through my question. “Everyone in the office don’t know I’m meetin’ you.”
My stomach flipped over.
Excuse me? “I-I got an email from team management—”
“Yeah, my say, it’s a closed group.”
My face got warm. “Closed? Group?”
He put a finger to his lips. “Just tryin’ to keep shit quiet. It’s New York. Everything here is a need-to-know, and some people don’t need to know what’s goin’ on right now.”
It ought to have raised my suspicions more, how easily he said all of that. He might as well have been reading off the menu of his go-to bodega. Need-to-know is one thing—I get it, you want to keep vampire business quiet because you can’t know who’s going to do a drunk Instagram Live or get hacked on a random godforsaken Tuesday (it’s always Tuesdays. Fuck Tuesdays.), and once news gets out, it doesn’t matter what manner of legal ramification you get. You could win a court settlement of a billion dollars and the firstborn of the next six generations of the offender’s family, but it wouldn’t do anything to fix the damage of potentially being the first publicly-outed vampire in the NBA. Reputation? Fucked. Legacy? Fucked. Can any of your previous games even count? Not to mention the absolute Armageddon that’d bring on the rest of the league.
If we go by averages, there are at least a dozen vampires in the league. If we go by the biases that international leagues have proposed, we’re looking at closer to double that. So, ending your own career by being careless about who you share what with is the smallest problem to worry about.
“So, what is going on,” I asked.
He shrugged. “Need a manager?”
“Full-time?”
“I do better with consistency.” The server returned with our beverages, and Jalen handed him a bundle of cash. Muttered, “Thanks.”
It was a pathetic size cup for an Americano. What is this thing, 10 ounces? It was presented in a mug that either was handmade or was manufactured to look handmade (impossible to tell sometimes); tapered profile, perfectly imperfect handle, matte black with bubbly streams of blues, greens, pinks, oranges, and purples falling from the rim like molten paint. Or maybe multicolored lava. He had a tall, frosted glass tumbler brimming with ice, which formed cavities of dark through streaks and clouds of almond milk. And a metal straw. Because of course this would be the kind of place that had metal straws.
It occurred to me just then that he hadn’t specified that he wanted a decaf latte.
Option 1: He’s well-known here, so he doesn’t need to specify.
Option 2: He’s an idiot and drinks caffeinated coffee while being from an American bloodline.
Option 3: He doesn’t know any better and drinks caffeinated coffee. It’s just some miracle that he hasn’t suffered cardiac arrest yet.
Option 4: My information—all of which was assembled helter-skelter at midnight thirty or beyond while pinching my cheeks to keep myself awake and drowning my eyes in Visine so I could blink without agony—was incorrect, and he wasn’t an American bloodline at all.
Weren’t we here for something? “Uh, what do you need managed, Jalen? Because I have very limited inform—”
“That’s a conversation for later.”
Okay? The fuck is the point of this then?
He took a sip of his latte. “How long have you been working?”
“I graduated in May.”
It was August. I was late to find a client. That also influenced the decision to take this… does this count as an interview? Or is this a pre-interview?
The corner of his mouth turned up. “So, you’re a baby.”
Fuck you. “I’m fresh eyes. With the latest education.”
“I ain’t in the business of underestimating someone,” he said, darting his eyes around the establishment again.
“Was I a team selection or a personal one?”
“You curious or suspicious?”
Is he going to be one of those bastards who answers every question with another question? “Let’s try both.”
He took another sip of his coffee, turned to me, flashed a smile. It was tired. All of him was tired. I suppose I wasn’t studying his face before—or maybe I didn’t catch it in profile, who knows—but he was exhausted. He was the kind of exhausted that I’d expect more from a baby vamp than a stable one all the way through transition already. And especially still in the offseason, before the games started adding miles to the body and strained the balance of nutrients, time, activity, and rest to a hair away from breaking.
“That doesn’t help,” I muttered.
“Wasn’t meant to.”
Excellent. Wonderful. He is one of those shitheads.
I rubbed my temple. “What kind of headache am I in for, then?”
He didn’t seem to mind the sarcasm I threw at him. Just shrugged, took another sip of his coffee. Rested his head against the wall. “Hope you like long hours.”
I don’t.
“I don’t take off days, and I will work until my arms or legs fall off, or my wife gives me a disappointed look.”
“Lovely.”
“Eh. Got me to where I am.” He nodded at my cup. “It’s not poisoned.”
My cheeks went warm. I honestly forgot I had it. I took a sip—and then had to use every available brain cell to avoid making a face. It was so bitter. Way stronger than it had any right to be, and they either forgot to add the sugar, or the strength of the espresso vaporized whatever sweetness was supposed to be present.
“Also not sweet enough.” I should’ve left it at that, but then I added, “That’s like medicine.”
Jalen flicked a sugar packet at me.
Y’know, for being a supposed sweetheart, he sure doesn’t act like one.
He glanced around again. I was about to ask him if he was paranoid much, try to turn the tables, catch him off-guard for once, see how he does with uneven footing, but then he muttered, “Brave or neglected?”
I froze midway through dumping the packet into my mug. Excuse me?
He turned back around in his seat, stretched his legs out under mine again. Fished around the little tableside caddy for a plastic spoon, dug an ice cube out of his glass. “Ain’t nobody keepin’ an eye on you.” He threw the ice cube into his mouth.
My stomach flipped over and my face went cold.
Okay, I take it back.
“Uh, I guess you can’t really be a chicken in this line of work,” I offered.
He’s sharp.
He peered at me over his glass as he crunched the ice cube. His face was unreadable—partially because half of it was obscured behind said cup and his hands, partially because his eyes were devoid of all emotion. Full of thoughts, though. Endless thoughts. An impossibly deep well of contemplation, gears upon gears turning.
“No,” he mumbled. His voice broke because he said it so softly, the air getting caught in his throat before it could produce noise. “I guess you can’t be. All the same; why’re you alone, Sugar?”
I guess that’s what he decided to call me. That, or he was trying to get under my skin. Hard to tell with him.
I took another sip of coffee. It still tasted horribly bitter. I reached for another sugar packet. “Public setting. You’re a public figure. Don’t expect anything weird.”
“I don’t make excuses for fuck-ups.” He said it too fast. Is it the first bit of actual emotion out of him? Irritation? Irritation… at me? At the fact that I’m alone? Hard to tell. Hard to tell anything about him, really.
It’s annoying that it compelled me. Maybe that was the point. Maybe he’s smart enough and self-aware enough to know how to bait someone in. But if he was, why wouldn’t he just bait in Alyssa or Grant or Mahmoud? Or anyone from the Deep Northeast Division? Y’know, the vampire managers who actually make sense following Jalen fucking Brunson around. Why wouldn’t his team strong-arm one of them to be here? Why me?
“Dissertation,” he said, answering my unasked questions.
I blinked.
He took another gulp of his iced coffee. Hunted for another ice cube to chew. “I read your dissertation. Psychology before this, right?”
That’s when I figured out why Angie told me to be careful of him.
His eyes drifted back to the windows. “Interesting that you chose this line of work after all that, Sugar.”
Because my dissertation was on the underdiagnosis and undertreatment of PTSD and Complex PTSD in vampires. Particularly in how lack of treatment led to self-destructive outcomes. Psychosis, in extreme cases.
It was like a cruel magic trick, how the marks materialized. They were all over his wrist, disappeared under his sleeve. Bloomed spots of skin just barely darker than they ought to be, a half-moon shape made of segments, there’s a particularly nasty one on the side of his thumb that’s left an indent in the muscle after it healed. A lot of them are on the anatomical lateral surface, the easiest place for him to reach. Also the easiest place to cover up with the shooting sleeve. If I hadn’t done my master’s in psychology, I wouldn’t even have thought to look. He just seems so normal, even among NBA players.
But he’s been biting himself for years, hasn’t he?
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Black Box Warning (Vampire!Jalen Brunson) Ch 1: Simple is Usually Safe is on AO3
Black Box Warning (3101 words) by Midnight_Fables
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Men's Basketball RPF
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Jalen Brunson/Original Female Character
Characters: Jalen Brunson, Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Vampire AU, Vampires, Vampire Bites, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, POV First Person, Brunson is accidentally my most fascinating vampire, I have no idea where this is going, please enjoy the ride or forgive the author
Summary:
Black Box Warning (n.)--The most stringent safety warning the FDA can require from a drug manufacturer, noting there is significant risk of serious or life-threatening side-effects of taking the drug.
Jalen's apparently one of the sweetest dudes in the world. Got word from a homegirl that the West Coordinator calls Brunson the “Jamal Murray of the East.” Every vampire manager’s fuckin’ wet dream of a vamp who is even-keeled, level-headed, doesn’t rage, doesn’t fight, doesn’t bite, is perfectly happy with minimal blood packs, has a diet already dialed in, listens, learns, will pay out-of-pocket for your accommodations so you’re not getting wrung out into a sleep-deprived raisin throughout the season.
But the fact that he even needed a new vampire manager should’ve been some kind of a warning sign.
More of "Like Any Other Disease," specifically? Like with innocent, pre-vampire Luka and Vampire!Jokic? Or more vampire Donkic in general? Because I have more vampire Donkic, comma, general in the works, and I have brain bees about them.
In POSTING order from most recent to least (NOT canon order--there's a series on AO3 to keep stuff in canon order):
AO3 Profile link
Black Box Warning (Jalen Brunson, Vampire AU)--Jalen needs a new vampire manager, which is already weird enough, but despite having a history as a vampire, very little is known about him. Incomplete.
Play Fetch (Jok/Mal, Vampire AU)--Jok convinces Mal to go on a hunting trip with him. Has more in the tank, but is marked complete.
L.A. Bite Night (Jok/Mal, Vampire AU)--Jok's hungry, Mal's tired, they should kiss. Complete.
Fever Dreams (Cooper Flagg/Reader, Vampire AU)--Coop's going vamp, and he's having a Bad Time. Incomplete.
Care Lost in Transit (Luka Doncic/Reader)--Post-hamstring Luka feels bad about himself. His gf is determined to not let him sulk. Has a lot more in the tank, but is marked complete.
Well-Behaved (Luka Doncic/Reader, AR/Reader, Vampire AU (unsure if in-canon, though))--Luka and AR are fighting over the single vampire manager the Lakers have. Incomplete.
A Nose for Sweet Things (Will Get You into Trouble) (Jokic/Reader, Vampire AU)--Reader accidentally wears a fragrance that reminds Nikola of home, and he is chompy because of it. Complete.
Like Any Other Disease (Donkic, Vampire AU)--Nikola bites Luka. This is the one that started this all. Complete.
Under Storm Clouds (Jok/CB, Vampire AU)--Nikola explodes after the Lu Dort tripping incident, CB is terrified, Mal is pissed. Complete.
No One Needs to Know (Donkic)--Nikola is conflicted and experiencing religious guilt about being attracted to another married man. Complete.
My Couch, My Rules (Luka/AR)--Luka's depressed after the trade and AR lets him into his house to talk. More in the tank for this one, marked complete.
I'm Your Favorite (Donkic)--Sexting and phone sex before the EuroBasket Friendlies in 2025. More in the tank, marked complete.
Like Some God or Devil (Lukai)--Luka struggles on the Mavs, he can only find comfort in Kyrie. This one was cut off when I got overwhelmed with life and now I can't find the voice to finish it. Marked complete.
A Slovenian Habit (Donkic)--Luka and Nikola have a really complicated situation going on. This also got cut off when life happened. Marked complete.
Are You Fixing Me? (Luka/AR)--Luka's a husk of a person after the trade to L.A. AR had a terrible playoff game. Dark mode dom Luka, I guess? Complete.
Burn All the Blue (Luka)--Journal entry from Luka where he spirals after the trade and suddenly hates the color blue. Complete
Requests and ideas pending:
Thunderstorm fic, Luka
Hunting party fic, Luka + Co. (Vampire AU)--In progress
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
