#the Raven Queen isn't fond of undead yknow ;3

[blorbologist]

Suffer this mercy, forever

T / Sunken Tomb AU of an AU / 2.5k words / Canon character death, Vampire Stuff ;3

The Sunken Tomb is not kind to undead. Less so to those who consort with such beings. Set in @officialtrashbin's incredible The Suffering of Night vamp!Percy AU.

Day 4 of @percahliaweek: Shoot / Reborn

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Percy is - and Vax is in no way exaggerating - absolutely covered in blood.

To be a bit more fair to him, it’s not human blood. Palid ooze clinging like gauze, bits of fatty tissue hitting the ground with a wet slap as Percy swipes at his face with disdain. Oh - no, it’s not all human blood. His arm is mangled good, navy wool thick with red. On the next wipe Percy pauses to cough into his glove. He pauses, wincing, and the angle is just right for Vax to spy that his palm is smeared with blood.

(Not his blood, a voice that sounds like Syldor’s sneers. That’s Vex’s, on loan in his veins. And he wasted it. So much of his sister spilled on ancient stone because Percy can’t be careful.)

“Percival, darling?”

It’s like she read his mind. Vex is already looping over, skirting around the frogmen and beholder and gods know what else that chimes as bones. Percy tries to lean up and out of the way, mumbling something Vax can’t quite catch. 

Whatever it is, she grabs it - and his lapels - before he can escape, her eyes wide. “You’re not -? Oh, Percy. Come here.” 

She sits him down on the nearest sarcophagus, fussing so much Trinket lumbers over to nose at each in turn. Vex and Percy’s chatter is consumed by the dark, by the sighs of the rest of the party as they heal up. Vax recognizes the new-growth green of Cure Wounds, wrapping like young roots around Percy’s forearm - grasping at nothing and failing to catch.

“So you're watching them? Totally not creepy,” says Kashaw. He’s the last person Vax wants to talk to - so he doesn’t, and keeps keeping an eye on things. 

Vex’s brow is furrowed something deep, fingers curling back before she exchanges something short with Percival before starting to unlace her bracer, even as Percy gently shoves her hand away. 

This isn’t the first time. It won’t be the last. Vax can’t help but feel sick, so fucking sick, seeing Percy’s fangs glint in the limp light. Worse than the gore, and the bones, and the sickening pressure of a lake and death herself hanging over their heads.

Clearly Kash stuck around too, because he murmurs, more carefully, “I thought vampires healed on their own? Huh.”

So did I.

“Kima!” Grog bellows. “Okay down there?” And Vax takes that as his cue to slip away. 

[Keep reading on AO3!]