The Trustfrated Sickies

Synopsis: The youngest in the pack, Jungkook, still has a lot to learn. And that includes the difference between safe, and not so safe blood.

TW: Graphic description of illness, pain, vomit and blood.

Vampire AU

A/N: hallo my loves, I'm aware I haven't posted in nearly over a year or more... So I thought this would make up for it. Word count possibly over 5k? Lol. Please excuse any mistakes I'm still recovering from what feels like a decade worth of writers block. Anyways! Let me know what you guys think! I hope it doesn't disappoint and that I am able to write more soon. Love you all muah <33

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“P-Poisoned?” Jungkook’s eyes crack open slightly, his ears perking up at the sound of Namjoon’s voice. He could hear a couple panicked gasps behind him and a chorus of disagreement, in a desperate attempt to soothe the younger. Jungkook keeps whimpering- enough of a reason to understand the commotion. The youngest of the pack was the strongest, the most vigilant and daring. He’d stick his hand in a blazing fire to give himself a human touch if he wants, but he doesn’t cry.

Yet, clear droplets were sprinkling off his lashes, His jewel-like eyes reflecting its aura underneath the layer of tear in his eyes, or the anxiety that blankets over his chest and holds him tight in a bitter embrace. After chundering his organs that always mimic his attributes, of being barely alive, that is. Perhaps that is the reason why he’s a weak leaf within the arms of his brother.

“No, No.” Jin is quick to snub Jungkook’s worries, his voice a notch deeper by the final syllable whilst he shoots a stern look at the boys. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems, Kook. Now now” He soothes, his arm around Jungkook’s firm shoulders and petting his silk hair. Namjoon leans over, gingerly swiping the tear that is about to burst out of the eye with his thumb.

“Hoseok, could you bring me my books? I could do some research on this, I think we need to figure out what type of poisoning this may be-”

“You mean the p-word” Hoseok interjects, meeting with the leader’s scrunched brows before his eyes dive towards the youngest and the aged vampire. An invisible shiver runs down his back, if stern looks could kill them, earlier; all of them would be meat on a skewer to be served to Jin next time.

“The what?” Namjoon can’t help but question, making a mental note to study the man’s sunshine brain next. Looks like it’s needed, he thinks. Jimin clicks his tongue, gives a sassy eyeroll before nodding in agreement: ‘we’re not supposed to say the word poi-’ there’s a pause, his pretty lips pucker in continuance ‘poisoned’ Jimin mouths and hopes that’s enough of an explanation.

Namjoon nods, putting two and two together. “Right. The p-word” He purses his lips, “As I was saying, may I have my books so I can see what type of ‘p-word’ this is” He says, the men talking like they were in an upscale secret mission. Except it was a mission to nurse vampire Jungkook, their baby (as humans call it) back to good health.

Yoongi merely snorts. “I live with clowns from the afterlife” He shakes his head and from the corner of his eye, he can see Jungkook’s head burrowing into Jin’s shoulder and his eyelids drooping. He zooms over, placing his hand on the back of his head to support the tired boy.

He was sleepy. Vampires don’t sleep.

“Why the afterlife?” Taehyung scrunches his nose, sliding backwards as he notices Jin pull away from the sick boy. “Tae, we’re not exactly alive are we?” He raises a brow, “I wouldn’t consider over 100 years of age as living anyway” He lifts Jungkook carefully, scooping him upwards and laying his head somberly onto the pillow.

“Someone clear out the bucket, keep him away from the puke”

The brunette shrugs, grabbing the bucket. “That’s a shame. I’ve always wanted to say that I’m glad I've lived to see this day” Taehyung sighs, peeking into the plastic and grimacing before holding it under his armpit and leaving with it. His timing for jokes has always been awful, but it earns a chuckle from everyone. They all had rainclouds swarming above their heads, especially after the incident of Jungkook vomiting.

“He’s pretty warm” Yoongi mutters, his fingers gliding across his forehead and tucking his fringe aside. The atmosphere is tense and content, the only contentment was stemming from the sweet image of Jungkook sleeping, so far his chest was rising and sinking with ease.

Like a playstage Hoseok is next to scurry back in, no one misses the sound of his gag and a very grossed out ‘ew’ from him at the bucket. Jin looks over at him to find it’s a false alarm and he’s handing Namjoon a book whilst putting the rest of the pile down with Jimin’s help. He looks at Jungkook again and hums. “I know, it’s everything we vampires don’t do. Can’t say it isn’t worrying me to say the least”

Jimin climbs onto the bed, at the far top of the mattress he allows himself to sit there so he can look at Jungkook. “He’ll be okay right?” His voice is quiet, focused on the Maknae before he bends over and gives him a soft kiss on his temple.

"Once we get to the bottom of this, he should be fine," Namjoon replies, giving him a sympathetic smile as he sits back in the rocking chair and opens the book to read from. Yoongi hums in acknowledgement, he repositions himself to look at all the members.

With his chest upright, a serious stance. He starts dishing out orders. "Namjoon's right. Okay. I'll take Hobi and Tae, back to the market to dig up who'd do something so fucking heinous" He ignores Jin's remark about his language pretty swiftly. "Namjoon can carry on looking for a cure. Try to get your hands on a healer too."

"Don't forget to keep an eye on Kook, I mean- I better belong here than in the kitchen right?" With his thick glasses he adds, followed by a sheepish look. Jin's eyes widen, like saucers bulging out of his head. "Yeah no, not my kitchen Joon. Keep your impending doom trail to yourself. I'll be in there fetching him some blood and cleaning it out, I could boil it in a cauldron to make sure it's safe before consuming."

"I'll clean up then, in case any of you haven't realised this room looks like a crime scene. We've been walking around in upchucked blood for the past hour" Jimin's eyes don't leave Jungkook's, he cards his fingers through the boy's hair and presses another kiss to his head when the boy's get busy.

Yoongi, Taehyung and Hoseok had already left, Jin was steaming up the kitchen, Namjoon was flipping through pages and pages, getting antsier by the minute and Jimin had just finished wiping down the floors and cleaning up when Jungkook begins to stir.

His eyelids are heavy, he can't seem to open them and his limbs follow suit. Like a brick weighing on his body. There was heat rushing through his veins, cracking his skin into more shiny sweat around the green palette of his body. His brain is foggy, it felt like his head was being bludgeoned by an axe as it throbbed and pounded painfully. He whimpers again.

Jimin pauses, his still heart begins to shrivell. “Kook? Are you awake?” He drops the washcloth and watches Namjoon also lean past his book to check. The black haired climbs onto the edge of the bed again, he can see Jungkook’s eyeballs dancing underneath his eyelids as he struggles to wake up. His face is stiff, frustrated, chest lifting and Jimin has to fret. “Hey, easy. No rush here. Take your time” He coos, the younger easing under the scratches to the crown of his head.

The pale vampire groans, his middle clenches with a painful and burning sensation. With his ancient like bones that shake as he tries to bring his hand over, he slides it onto his middle and presses as firmly as he can despite how frail he’s feeling. Namjoon is closing his book, joining the two on the other side of the bed; he’s there to hold the youngest and his shoulders when he begins to roll over. “I think it’s his stomach again– It looks like it’s hurting” He looks at Jimin with a frown, his fingers rubbing against the broad shoulder bones.

“Oh.” Jimin replies, his plump lips part slightly as he strokes Jungkook’s hair aside and away from his nape. He hovers over his body, instinctively patting his back lightly when the boy moans beside him. “Aigoo” He expresses, a bit startled and biting his lips. Jungkook curls in further, his knees just below his abdomen in a loose foetal position. His eyes peel open slightly, through tears he can make out that Namjoon’s lips are moving. “C'mon kid, talk to us. Tell us what you’re feeling, okay?”

“B-Burn…ever-” it's the sort of pain that twists and tugs against the stomach lining like a rabid dog, feeling his insides bubble as his innermost muscles contract painfully. There's a certain softness to his skin—to the way his fangs jut out from his mouth as a gasp hisses out of him when he's seized with sudden, tortuous agony.

In his eyes, there's an unquenchable hunger... but not quite for blood. The thought makes them widen with a certain lust. His pupils, like pits of shadow at the end of a dark tunnel. His stomach is a mass of churning, twisting flesh—a writhing thing of terrible need. It is the most honest pain he has ever felt: the sort which burns and gnashes, making one wish for a quick death. Sharp as a knife, a piercing pain cuts through the front of his abdomen. This is a stabbing ache right below his chest. He grimaces and as the pain subsides, with a shaky exhale he begins to quietly weep.

"No no, just tell me what is it? What do you think is the matter, hm?" Namjoon demands, his voice filled with tension and frustration, the furrows of his brow drawn even tighter as if a thought has occurred to him, and he needs Jungkook to validate the hypothesis that he's constructed in his head. But what he doesn't realise is that all that Jungkook's mind is preoccupied with is the horrible burning sensation that's working its way through his insides.

Jimin looks on at Jungkook, his heart shattering at the sight of the young man who’s clearly in pain. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on himself, but he can see how upset Jungkook is. The worry and empathy only grows for the clustered vampire as he sits there, unable to do anything.

Then to Namjoon, hoping to find some kind of guidance or instruction on what he ought to do, he sees Namjoon staring at him expectantly, his features set into an expression of frustration, almost as if he's about to snap.

"Please, Kookie, we need to know how to help you," he pleads softly, sharing the deep bond they had forged over centuries of existence. Jungkook tries to speak, to communicate his distress, but every time he opens his mouth, a wave of nausea washes over him, making it impossible to articulate the pain he was experiencing. He clutches his stomach tighter in return whilst trying to suppress the urge to retch, his body was struggling to fight the potent poison coursing through his immortal veins.

In the meantime; Jin, coven’s skilled herbalist is up and ready. He swiftly moves to the mansion's well-equipped kitchen, where he prepares a soothing herbal soup known for its calming effects on the vampire stomach. Lavender, chamomile, and peppermint, all carefully measured and mixed in a delicate ceramic bowl. The fragrance of these herbs combined is both comforting and refreshing, a balm for the senses. He retrieves a pot made of cast iron, ideal for preserving the herbal essence and providing gentle heat. As Jin places the pot on the stove, he adds a small amount of pure water.

Jin pours the herb mixture into the pot, turning his attention to other ingredients. He grabs a small vial of honey made from flowers specially cultivated to enchant and invigorate vampires. With great care, he drizzles the honey into the pot, sweetening the brew just enough to make it palatable for Jungkook's sensitive vampire taste buds. Finally, Jin adds a touch of powdered moonstone, a rare and powerful mineral known for its ability to strengthen a vampire's natural resilience. The moonstone dissolved into the soup, shimmering like stardust and infusing the brew with its mystical properties.

With the bowl of herbal soup cradled gently in his hands, Jin makes his way to Jungkook's room, the soft flickering light of the candles illuminating his path. Upon entering the room, he finds Namjoon and Jimin hovering worriedly over the youngest, who still appeared quite pale and stricken with sickling ailment. His chest rose slightly, sucking in a quick breath. "What's going on?" Jin asks, concern lacing his voice as he hands the soup to Jimin. He moves to sit on the edge of Jungkook's bed, his eyes never leaving the youngest's face.

Jimin takes the bowl with a grateful nod, his fingers trembling slightly. "He's been in so much pain, Jin. He keeps saying everything is burning, like he's on fire from the inside. We've tried to get him to tell us more, but he just can't seem to form the words." Jimin's voice cracks, his worry palpable as he glances back at Jungkook, whose face is contorted in agony.

Jungkook lets out a weak, pained moan, his eyes fluttering open briefly before squeezing shut again. Jin's heart aches at the sight of his youngest brother in such a state. He gently brushes a damp strand of hair away from Jungkook's forehead, whispering soothing words, though he knows they might not reach through the haze of pain.

"Jungkook, we're here," Jin says softly, trying to keep his voice steady. "We're going to figure this out. Just hang in there, okay?"

Jimin sets the bowl of soup on the bedside table and gently takes Jungkook's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "We won't leave you, Jungkook. We promise."

The room falls into a heavy silence, the worry gnawing at them as the three deeply reflect on what has transpired and how helpless they feel. Namjoon’s gaze is fixed on the floor, his mind racing through possible solutions, while Jimin's eyes remain on Jungkook, silently willing him to recover. Jin sits quietly, the gravity of the situation settling over him like a dark cloud. Minutes tick by, each one weighed down by their collective anxiety. Jin's mind churns, replaying the events that led to this moment, the image of Jungkook’s pained expression etched into his thoughts.

Finally, Jin breaks the silence. "Jungkook," he murmurs, leaning closer, "I'm going to rub your belly, okay? Maybe it will help a little." Jungkook's response is a faint nod, barely perceptible. Jin gently lifts Jungkook's shirt, exposing his stomach. As he places his hand on Jungkook’s abdomen, he feels the warmth radiating from his skin, the surface taut and unyielding. Jin begins to rub in slow, soothing circles, his touch gentle but firm.

The first thing Jin notices is how hard Jungkook's stomach feels, the muscles beneath the skin clenched in a relentless spasm. It’s as if his entire abdomen is locked in a battle against itself, every inch of it painfully tense. Jin can feel the subtle rise and fall of Jungkook's belly, each breath a struggle. As Jin's hand moves, he encounters patches of skin that are particularly tender to the touch, eliciting small, involuntary flinches from Jungkook. The tautness of his belly is interspersed with areas of uncomfortable bloating, the skin stretched and swollen. The sensation of the cramps is almost palpable through the tender skin, a series of sharp, knotted contractions that ripple under Jin's fingertips.

Jimin’s heart aches with each flinch, each sign of discomfort. He continues to watch the gentle ministrations that the eldest is doing, hoping to provide even a modicum of relief. "You're doing great, Jungkook," Jimin whispers, his voice soothing. "Just breathe, okay? We're here with you."

The room remains quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic sound of Jin’s hand moving over Jungkook's stomach and the occasional, muted whimper of pain from the youngest. The silence is filled with a growing tension, a palpable sense of dread as Jungkook's condition continues to worsen.

Jungkook's nausea is like a storm brewing in his stomach, a relentless wave that rises and falls with increasing intensity. Each motion of Jin's hand, while intended to soothe, only serves to agitate the turmoil within. His belly churns violently, the queasiness intensifying until it feels like a heavy, rolling sea inside him. The sour taste of bile lingers at the back of his throat, a bitter reminder of the impending onslaught.

The nausea escalates from a persistent discomfort to a full-blown assault on his senses. The room seems to spin around him, and his stomach lurches with a force that leaves him gasping. His skin grows clammy, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead and upper lip. He can feel the contents of his stomach rising, an unstoppable force pushing upward, and his mouth starts to fill with saliva in preparation."I...I think I'm going to vomit," Jungkook croaks through his chattering fangs, his voice trembling as he shudders.

Jin responds with a calm nod "It's okay," he assures him. "I've got you baby." He helps him sit up, supporting him with gentle hands and the help of Namjoon, even as he feels a rush of urgency surge through him. "Jimin, grab something." Jin instructs, his tone calm but with an edge of urgency he tries to conceal. Jimin nods quickly and hurries to find a suitable vessel, coiling at the thought of having to clean blood or whatever bodily entities there will be again.

In the meantime Jin takes a napkin and holds it under Jungkook's mouth, catching the drool that begins to spill from his lax jaw. Jungkook's body trembles, his muscles tense as he fights the inevitable. His breath comes in shallow, rapid gasps, and his eyes squeeze shut as another wave of nausea crashes over him.

The words of comfort begin to drown out of his ears slowly. Namjoon watches as Jimin and Jin do their best to comfort Jungkook as he jolts with a harsh gag, “Mmbhh!—” the youngest's pain and sickness weighing heavily on all of them. Realising that they need to expedite their efforts, he decides to check on the progress of the others.

"I'll go see where the boys are," Namjoon says, his voice resolute. With a swift, deliberate movement, he teleports, vanishing from the room in an instant.

In a small, secluded clearing in the woods Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok stand in front of a tiny, hutted house. The structure is old and weathered, with vines creeping up its walls and a faint, mystical glow emanating from its windows. Just as they are discussing their next steps, Namjoon materialises beside them. "How are things going?" Namjoon asks, his voice filled with urgency. "Hyung. What's taking so long?"

Yoongi turns to face Namjoon, his expression serious but tinged with hope. "We've found this place," he begins, gesturing to the hutted house. "The lady inside supposedly has an antidote for the poison. She's a well-known healer for our kind." Taehyung nods in agreement, his eyes reflecting the same urgency. "We were just about to go in and speak with her. We didn't want to waste any time, but we also didn't want to rush in unprepared." Namjoon nods in understanding.

Hoseok turns to Namjoon, his eyes filled with concern. "Namjoon, how is Jungkook doing? How is our little one?" Taehyung and Yoongi also turn to Namjoon, their expressions expectant, hoping to hear some positive news. Namjoon takes a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly under the burden of bad news. "He's not doing much better," he admits, his voice heavy with worry. "I left just as Jungkook was about to go for round two. Jin hyung and Jimin are with him, trying to comfort him, but the nausea and pain are getting worse."

Hoseok's face falls, and Taehyung's eyes reflect a deepening worry. Yoongi clenches his jaw, frustration and helplessness etched into his features. "The poor kid," He murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "He doesn't deserve this."

The four vampires move towards the door, their steps deliberate but swift. Namjoon knocks, and a moment later, the door creaks open to reveal an elderly woman with kind eyes and an air of ancient wisdom. "Come in," she says softly, stepping aside to let them enter. "I doubt you four are wandering around tonight for no good reason."

The inside of the hut is dimly lit, filled with the scent of herbs and the crackling warmth of a small fire. Shelves lined with jars and vials filled with mysterious substances cover the walls, and the atmosphere hums with an almost tangible magic. Yoongi steps forward, desperation clear in his voice. "We were told you might have anantidote for a poison that’s affecting our brother. He's in terrible pain, and we don't know how much longer he can hold on."

The healer nods, her expression thoughtful. "I may have what you need. Describe the symptoms to me, and I will see what I can do." Namjoon quickly details Jungkook's condition—the burning pain, the nausea, the debilitating cramps; the regurgitating of his blood. The healer listens intently, her eyes never leaving his face. When he finishes, she nods once more. "I believe I know the poison you speak of," she says, moving to a shelf and selecting several jars. "There is an antidote, but it must be administered carefully. I will prepare it for you."

Her fingers move with a steady grace as she reaches for a black-stained mortar and pestle on the worn wooden counter. Her hut smelled of dried herbs, bitter roots, and something old—something metallic, like rusted chains left in the rain. The air thickened with anticipation as four heads watched, silent but tense.

She plucks the first jar from the shelf. Inside were brittle, pale green leaves, a serpent's kiss; Namjoon recognised. Toxic to humans, cleansing to a vampire’s corrupted bloodstream. “This will draw the poison from his marrow,” she murmurs, crumbling the leaves between her fingers and letting them fall like flakes of ash into the bowl.

Next came a tiny vial of shimmering silver liquid, pulled from a hidden drawer below the counter. “Moonroot sap,” she explains. “Harvested under a lunar eclipse. It binds the antidote to the vampire’s blood, fusing it with the body’s natural regenerative rhythm.” She adds three precise drops. Each one hisses upon contact with the dried leaves, releasing a faint vapor that smelled of ice and ozone.

Hoseok and Taehyung lean forward slightly, careful not to interrupt. Well, attempted. Out of the pair, Taehyung’s hand haphazardly knocks into an idle jar which he catches in time, the two looking each other with their faces drawn in mimed screams.

Then, she lifts a small pouch, unties the string, and taps out what looked like powdered bone. “Phoenix ash. A purifier. Dangerous if mishandled.” It's handled like a priest offering incense—reverent and restrained. When the powder touches the mixture, the contents spark, glowing briefly with a dull crimson pulse before fading.

Finally, she opens the last jar, this one is made of obsidian glass and sealed with wax. As she prys it open, a pungent and earthy aroma spills out. The substance inside is thick and black, almost like tar and has everyone's nose wrinkling in disgust. “This is the heart of it,” She says softly.

“Corvus ichor. Blood drawn from a raven corrupted by shadow. It seeks out dark enchantments, binds them, and unravels their hold.” Yoongi stiffens. “That’s nearly impossible to find.”

“I don’t find it,” she says, her eyes gleaming faintly. “It finds me.” She dips a twisted silver spoon into the ichor and swirled it into the bowl. The mixture hisses again—this time more violently, the contents turning from green to red to an inky violet-black as she grinds everything together with the pestle.

The glow beneath her skin brightens. Old, quiet magic radiates from her bones. “The antidote must be ingested,” she warns. “But only after the sun has fully set. If he takes it too early, the poison will rebel; and it could kill him.” Namjoon exchanges a quick look with Yoongi. The sun was barely an hour from vanishing behind the horizon.

Yoongi takes the vial from the healer’s hand, fingers trembling slightly despite himself. “And if it works?” he asks.

The healer nods, sealing the empty jars with practiced movements.“He survives. The poison will be purged, but it will leave him weakened. He’ll need two full days to recover before his strength returns. Keep him warm. Keep him still. And don’t let him feed until the antidote has run its course.”

Namjoon bows his head, his voice tight. “Thank you.”

No more words are needed. The four vampires vanish into the twilight, their cloaks snapping behind them like wings of night.

Back at the safe house, the atmosphere is stifling. The fireplace crackles feebly in the corner, but the warmth does nothing to soothe the chill sinking into everyone’s bones. Rain lashes at the windows, wind howling like a warning through the cracks.

Jungkook is sprawled on the makeshift bed, pale as bone, a sheen of sweat glistening across his skin like morning dew on gravestones. His body convulses without warning with an ugly, wrenching heave that rips through his frame. Jin barely manages to tip his head to the side before the boy is retching again, a thick, dark spill that reeks of bile and blood staining the basin Jimin frantically holds beneath him.

His lips are cracked, flecked with old blood. Drool hangs in strings from the corner of his mouth, trembles with each breath. His chest rises and falls in sharp, shallow bursts, as though breathing has become a punishment. Each gasp sounds like it's being dragged through shards of glass.

He’s getting worse,” Jin says, voice hoarse, one hand still braced firmly on Jungkook’s sweat-slick forehead to stop him nose-diving into the basin again. His other hand trembles where it supports the back of Jungkook’s neck, trying to keep him upright between waves of sickness.

“It’s like his body’s rejecting everything,” Jimin whispers, crouched close with his fingers white-knuckled around the bowl. “Even his own blood.”

Jungkook groans—barely a sound, more like a whimper dragged up from some abyssal place. His limbs twitch intermittently, his stomach visibly knotting under the strain. It’s not just sickness. It’s war. His body is turning against itself, a chemical battle tearing through every vein. "You're okay love, you're absolutely fine" he's hushed.

Jin sits at the edge of the bed, jaw clenched as he presses a cool, soaked cloth to Jungkook’s burning forehead. The youngest vampire trembles beneath the tousled layers of blankets, his once-pristine black hair now damp and sticking to his skin in limp, sweat-drenched strands. Jin continues to whisper comfort with a kiss to his head.

It then lolls forward suddenly, but Jin is quicker—his hand shoots up, steadying him with a firm grip on his forehead again before he can slump face-first into the ceramic bowl once more.

“Easy,” Jin mutters, voice low but stern. “Don’t move. Just breathe.”

Jungkook however, can’t. His throat contracts with another violent retch, though there’s nothing left in his stomach. He’s already vomited more blood than any of them care to think about, but his body refuses to stop and keeps twisting in on itself with the force of dry, painful heaving. “Hhh…hhuuhh…” His breath crackles through each pant.

His fangs have elongated, not in hunger, but in sheer agony. They're grinding together as he clenches his jaw through each bout of nausea. The veins along his neck and arms are prominent now, dark and angry, almost bruised in appearance.

Jimin’s eyes glisten as he wipes at Jungkook’s chin with trembling fingers. “He’s already thrown up everything. His stomach won’t stop fighting.” The oldest purses his lips, “Oh dear devil wings” He sighs heavily, chewing at his lips to keep his anxiety at bay.

Jungkook sags forward again, mouth parted, a line of drool spilling from his lips as another choked gag wracks his body. Jin’s palm stays firm, keeping him upright, the other hand dabbing the cloth gently along Jungkook’s temple. “He’s not lucid,” Jimin whispers. “I don’t even think he knows we’re here.”

The door crashes open, and the scent of wet earth and adrenaline fills the room as Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Taehyung rush inside. Rain streaks their cloaks, their boots leaving damp imprints on the wooden floor as they converge on the bed like a dark tide of urgency.

Jungkook’s body seizes violently in Jin’s arms, and the sound he lets out is no longer human. It’s a raw, agonized choke that cuts straight through everyone in the room. It prompts Jin to rub his back harder.

“We have it,” Yoongi breathes, lifting the small glass vial. The liquid inside swirls a soft purple-green, pulsing faintly under the lamplight like it’s alive. Jin doesn’t look up. His entire focus is on the boy in his arms, the youngest vampire trembling like a wire pulled too tight. “Oh good, good. Hurry up, give it to our boy” He mumbles, stringing Jungkook into another chest hug.

Jimin looks up, frantic. “He’s burning, even though he’s freezing. His body’s confused—he’s trying to reject everything. Even us.” Taehyung crosses the room in two strides, his jaw set, eyes wide with panic, he's trying desperately to cage. He kneels on the opposite side of the bed and gently brushes Jungkook’s soaked bangs from his face. “Kook… you hear us?”

Makne lets out a low whimper, barely audible. His lips are cracked, stained red-black. His eyes flutter open for a brief, fevered second; glassy and unfocused.

Just wanna say that I'm alive! I miss everyone very much.

Had no idea when my life started to get so demanding— full time job in the legal industry and juggling study on weekends. Total brain fry.

Not gonna act like I haven't been thinking of courtroom sagas and the boys vomiting in black suits and tuxes everyday (especially hyung line) cause ABSOLUTELY have.

Gosh so much I wanna say but can't think, I will be dropping content very soon with zero confidence in my writing skills but LMAOO. See you soon lovelies lysm

I think my writing has improved? Please let me know if it has/hasn’t! 

Tw: slightly graphic depiction of vomit, male pregnancy 

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Yoongi hums to himself, absentmindedly as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. His fingers wring around Hoseok’s, giving them a generous squeeze while he’s at it and bringing it up to his pouty, pink lips. He purses them, a bit retaliated as it colides with the medicinal tape wrapped over the top of his hand. “My poor baby..” He coos and yawns again. 

It isn’t his fault that they’re camped out in the dim, plain and bleak hospital room and Yoongi had no right to complain. In fact, they were there for good reasons. Hoseok was finally in labor, the two just hours away from greeting their miracle baby that the two desperately hoped and prayed for.  The man shook off the slumber that’s threatening to overtake him, replacing it with some comforting and doting actions instead. Yoongi leans down, his lips pressing into the baby bump whilst his hand cups under it. “So proud of you.” He whispers, feeling it tense and contract from under the hospital gown. 

It makes Hoseok stir, a small groan escaping from his lips as his eyes begin to flicker open. His head is fogged, he can’t register anything but a familiar pain that gradually intensifies. Instantly, his eyes dart for Yoongi and squint in a helpless, sad manner. Yoongi is quick to console. “Hey, hey bug, it’s okay” His voice is calm, smooth and velvety while Hoseok reaches for him.  Arms are strung around shoulders, Hoseok pressing his cheek firmly into Yoongi’s bicep as he squeezes him with a whimper. “I-It’s happening again..”  Yoongi lifts his head, whilst propping his chin against the younger’s matted hair his eyes steer over to the machine a couple inches away from the hospital bed. Gridded paper is scratching out in steady beats, stiff peaks forming along the chart and measuring the contraction from the belt strapped to Hoseok’s engorged belly. “I know, I see it” He assures his boyfriend, pulling him closer and rubbing gently along his spine. “You’re okay, deep breaths, Count to 10 with me” 

“1..owww!” Hoseok cries, his stomach seizing more. He pants, heavy and laboured against Yoongi’s support. “Agh fuck, fuck!” He hides his face into his boyfriend’s chest, muffling the pained profanities as the fiery sensation soars across his stomach and makes it spasm. His belly grumbles lowly, breaking into a thin layer of sweat as he feels nausea coil around his insides because of all the discomfort.  “I’ve got you, jeez Hobi, I thought it couldn’t get any worse than the last one you had.” Yoongi spurts aimlessly, holding his lover in his arms and cringing at the sounds his laboring boyfriend was projecting. He cares less about dignity, pulling apart the curtains of behind his gown and begins to rub circles into Hoseok’s bare back going as low as where his rear begins. “There’s still ice, do you want any ice, love?” He offers. 

Ice does seem like it would sooth Hoseok’s stomach, if he wasn’t met with a splurge of acid when he burps silently. The nausea hits him like a thunderclap, drool threatening to spill out of his mouth. He shakes his head. “I’m gonna vomit.” He responds thickly.  Yoongi frowns, pulling away from Hoseok as he stays upright and stiff. He reaches for the bowl on the nightstand next to his stool, tucking it under his chin. “Here, get it all in this Hobi.” His fingers splay around the side and bend under the bowl, holding it close for him and sweeping any hair back. 

I know it's been a very long time since I actually posted but I promise you don't have to wait much longer. I'm still in the community!

Even more good news— I finish my degree soon! Just have a few exams left.

I have finished the baby fangs series and have two years worth of fics/shorts/drabbles set to be released after May 5th!!!

Miss interacting so much