Chapter Text
It started as a strange curiosity.
A dumb, odd, unspeakable habit.
He knew he shouldn’t—but he did anyway. He just couldn’t help himself, but seriously, could anyone blame him?
Frank had been a vampire for a solid hundred years. Early on, he learned one lesson quickly and with no ambiguity: never get close to mortals for anything other than their blood.
Human connection was a risk. It was messy. It could get you killed. Worse, it could make you attached
So the night Frank found himself wandering the streets of Belleville, New Jersey, only to be completely captivated by a mysterious, handsome artist painting alone under the moonlight… he knew he’d screwed up.
He didn’t tell Ray—his fellow vampire who acted more like an overbearing mom than a best friend—because he already knew how that would go. Ray would lose his mind and try to convince him to flee the state.
Ray was smarter than Frank, in that regard. He knew how to keep things simple: mortals were meals, nothing more. Quick, inconvenient pit stops between the long stretches of immortal existence, the way it has always been, the way it should be.
But Frank? Frank hadn’t quite learned to see them that way. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the craving for something more than blood.
He wanted to know them…
He wanted to know him
He didn’t mean to stop that night. He’d been on his way to feed—something quick and unmemorable, anything would do, he wasn't too picky. But then he saw him.
The artist
Alone in a small studio off Bloomfield Avenue, surrounded by open paint tubes, blank canvases, and a half-eaten sandwich slowly drying in the summer air. He was painting like he’d forgotten the world existed. Like he was trying to trap the moonlight in color.
Frank stood there far too long…Long enough to care
Caring was a dangerous thing you see
The guy had this... presence. Not flashy. Not haunting. Just quietly magnetic, like gravity. Every so often, he'd step back, squint at the canvas, brush his curls out of his eyes, and mutter something under his breath — maybe to himself, maybe to the painting.
Frank didn’t catch the words. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.
Okay, maybe he was.
It wasn’t even about attraction, at first. It was curiosity. An artist working alone at 2 a.m.? In Belleville? With no exhaustion , no hesitation?
Insane. Or motivated. Or both.
And there was something else. Something Frank didn’t like to admit he recognized — a weight in the guy’s posture, the kind that didn’t come from pulling all-nighters or carrying around canvases. It was emotional. Familiar.
Loneliness.
The kind Frank knew intimately, how couldn’t he? He had lived through something similar himself
He should’ve walked away- but short story, he didn’t. He knew this was how things got complicated — he heard the horror stories about a million times from Ray, the way vampires could get attached to humans- it always started with observation, then a passing thought, then a “just one conversation.” And then suddenly you're helping a mortal move apartments and wondering if their laugh is as nice in daylight.
But what was the harm in a one time thing? It wasn’t like he was going to really get attached…
Frank never intended to go back the next night.
But he did.
And then the night after that.
And then again. And again. Until “just passing through” turned into lingering on the corner across from the small, second-floor studio apartment with the wide window and peeling blue shutters.
Okay, so maybe not a one time thing- but who could blame him really? He had a nice spot on a roof top with the perfect view into Gerard’s window. From there, he could see almost everything.
It wasn’t creepy…He wasn’t doing anything. He was just... watching. In the least threatening, most romantically tragic way possible, besides, it wasn’t like Gerard even knew he was there, all that mortal did was paint all night long like a tragically handsome maniac.
Yes—Gerard. That was the name.
Frank didn’t like many things. But he decided he liked that name, didn’t know why, maybe it was the way it felt like a speed bump on the tongue, or the way it managed to feel formal and well put together yet soft and kinda at the same time. It was the perfect name for a man with gorgeous hazel eyes, tragically pale skin, and silky black hair…
…I mean- it was an okay name, he supposed…
He caught it on the fourth night, when a friend stopped by and called up to the window. Frank wrote the name down in his phone. Just in case.
Over the following weeks, he learned more — not through spying, exactly, but through quiet observation. Frank had been around long enough to notice details most people missed. It was a vampire thing. Spend a century reading people before you bite them, and you get good at reading everything.
Gerard hated shoes. The moment he got inside, he’d fling them off with dramatic contempt and spend the evening barefoot.
He liked his coffee disgustingly sweet. Extra sugar. Condensed milk. Sometimes honey. Once — horrifyingly — maple syrup.
He talked to his paintings like they were old friends. Frank couldn’t always hear the words, but he saw the shape of them. Soft, rambling sentences. Apologies. Encouragements. Occasionally insults. One night, he threw a sock at a half-finished canvas and called it “a stubborn little bastard.”
He played music while he worked — vinyl records, mostly — and always sang along, badly but confidently. He had a habit of dancing a little when he thought no one was watching.
Frank knew the names of the neighbors. One of them was a silent pre-law student named Mikey, the other one an annoying burnout named Pete. The landlady was Mrs. Miller, she was okay he guessed. There was a cat that sometimes appeared on the fire escape, though Frank was pretty sure it didn’t belong to anyone. Gerard called it “Your Majesty” and let it in like it paid rent, always going out of his way to serve it freshly poured milk in a saucer.
Frank learned the rhythms of Gerard’s life, one quiet night at a time. Not because he meant to — but because Gerard made it impossible not to notice...Frank was convinced these were all very normal things to know, right? Neighbors, fellow strays, eating habits, personality traits….He just couldn’t help himself, Gerard just has this warmth to him
The kind that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t some cold thing cursed to orbit people forever without touching them.
Frank told himself it was harmless. Just observation. Just curiosity.
But the truth was:
He was getting attached, he should have known it was only a matter of time before Ray noticed, because of course he had, when their old Jersey mansion groaned around them like it was trying to warn them both on that fateful night.
Wind rattled the broken stained glass in the windows. Dust drifted in the cold air like the house was exhaling centuries of dead breath. The fireplace hadn’t been lit in decades, ivy growing through the cracks where heat used to live. And in the center of it all: Ray, pacing like a storm was building in his spine, and Frank, leaning against a broken archway like he had nowhere better to be.
He’d never forget that fight
“You saw him again,” Ray snapped, not bothering to pretend it was a question.
Frank didn’t respond. He just raised an eyebrow and picked at a chipped piece of paint on the wall. The silence was an answer enough.
Ray scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’ve been called worse,” Frank muttered.
Ray stopped pacing. He turned, eyes glowing faintly red in the low light. “Frank. You’re following a human. A human artist. Who paints haunted shit and lives like a ghost himself. You think this is a coincidence? You think this ends well for anyone?”
Frank finally looked at him. “He hasn’t seen me.”
“Yet,” Ray snapped. “You’ve been creeping on him like some romantic stalker vampire cliché and acting like it’s art. It's not. It's a compulsion. You’re slipping, Frank.”
Frank pushed off the archway, voice sharp, “He’s not just some guy, Ray. He sees things. In the city, in the dark. He draws things no human should be able to see. He’s... close to it. Like he’s touching the edge of something real, and he doesn’t even know it…he’s special! And really talented, is it so wrong of me to appreciate that!?”
Ray stared at him. “You're projecting. Again.”
“I’m observing.”
“You’re spiraling.”
Frank bit back the snarl threatening to rise. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced toward the cracked window. Outside, the woods blurred with fog. “You ever think maybe I’m allowed to feel something?”
Ray’s voice dropped, quieter, but somehow heavier. “Not if it gets you killed. Not if it exposes us. You want connection? Then talk to me talk to any other fucking vampire for gods sake- But don’t stalk some guy in a hoodie with a sketchbook who could ruin everything just by seeing too much.”
Frank turned around. “He already sees too much.”
“That’s the problem!” Ray threw his hands up. “He paints shadows with teeth and corners that bleed. He’s either cursed or half a seer or a lunatic with uncanny luck, and you’re hovering around him like a mosquito with a crush.”
Frank’s mouth twitched. “I’d say more of a bat, really.”
Ray did not laugh.
Frank sighed. “I’m not going to bite him. I’m not even going to talk to him. I just… I don’t know. I like watching him work.”
Ray’s voice softened, but it didn’t lose its edge. “You always say that. Until you don’t just watch.”
Frank looked away.
A long silence stretched between them, filled with old mistakes and unspoken memories. The kind only immortals had time to stack up.
Then Ray said, “I know you. Better than anyone. And I know what happens when you get curious.”
Frank clenched his jaw. “I’m not in danger.”
Ray stepped closer. “You are the danger. That’s what you forget, and you’ll land him in danger too, don’t you remember what happened last time, with her?.”
That landed hard.
Frank exhaled slowly, like it might make the truth easier to swallow. It didn’t.
He turned back toward the window. “That’s not fair…you know that’s not fair”
“No,” Ray said. “It’s not, but I’m sorry Frank, I’m not gonna sit here and sugar coat it while you’re hovering around him like some lovesick bat.”
Frank flinched at the word. He didn't know why. He hadn't even transformed lately. Not around Ray.
“I’ll stop,” Frank said finally.
Ray studied him, too sharp to believe it. “No, you won’t.”
Frank didn’t argue.
Ray shook his head, stepping back, already exhausted. “Just don’t let me be the one who has to clean up the mess.”
—————————————————
So turns out, Ray had been right- despite how satisfying Frank thought it would be to prove him wrong. But just a week later, Frank found himself watching from the rooftop across the alley, like he always did, hoping to catch a glimpse of the captivating human that seemed to tug at his frozen heart.
The studio window glowed in the dark like a lantern, warm and golden. Inside, Gerard moved with slow, distracted rhythm — brush in hand, paint-streaked shirt clinging to his arms, one headphone dangling from his collar. He didn’t dance tonight, or sing. He just painted in silence, frowning at the canvas like it had insulted him personally.
Frank didn’t know what Gerard was working on. He never got close enough to see the details.
He preferred the distance
It was safer that way, and Frank thought that maybe
But then Gerard turned.
Right toward him.
It was quick — a pause in the brushstroke, a glance up — but their eyes met. Across the space, across the glass, across that fragile line Frank had drawn for himself
Fuck
For half a second, Frank thought maybe Gerard couldn’t see him. Maybe the shadows held.
But Gerard’s brow furrowed. His hand hovered midair. He leaned slightly toward the window.
Frank’s pulse jumped. Shit
Without thinking, without planning, Frank transformed
He felt his bones compress, his chest collapse inward, wings spread in a flutter of instinct. He dropped into bat form and shot left — but not far enough, not fast enough — and slammed into the edge of the window frame with a dull, wet thump.
Pain lit through his side. His wing buckled. The world spun as he slammed onto Gerard’s window sill
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me
It was the worst possible outcome, he tried to move his body upwards, but one of his wings refused to cooperate. Dammit! He should have just listened to Ray, he should have just kept his distance, this was all going to end horribly.
Frank, now a dazed little bat with one crumpled wing, lay on the windowsill gasping in tiny squeaks, mortified beyond all reason.
Inside, Gerard had flinched at the impact — but now he stepped forward slowly, cautiously, setting the paintbrush down and unlatching the window
The air shifted. Cool night wind drifted in.
And Frank, very still, very humiliated, looked up just in time to see Gerard’s face come into view, soft with concern- if it wasn’t for his situation, he would have found it to be a gorgeous sight
“...Oh,” Gerard whispered in a hush voice as he gazed upon the frazzled bat,His eyes were wide in concern,“You poor thing,”
Frank didn’t move. Partly because his wing hurt, and partly because he wasn’t sure he could move without dying of embarrassment on the spot.
Gerard leaned out a little further, arms braced on the frame. “What were you doing up here, huh?” he murmured. “You hit that glass so hard. You okay?”
I rammed into a glass window pane 7 times the size of my body, almost shattered it, and may or may not have broken my wing, do I LOOK okay!?
Frank let out a high pitched noise of annoyance
“Oh my god,” Gerard cooed, softer now. “You’re tiny.”
Then, without another word, he reached out carefully and cupped his hands around Frank’s small, aching form.
Frank wanted to bolt. He wanted to vanish, turn into mist, teleport into the sea.
But Gerard’s hands were warm. And gentle. And stupidly kind.
And maybe—just maybe—Frank let himself go still.
Gerard brought him inside with that same hush, setting him down gently on a folded towel on the desk.
“No blood,” he said aloud, mostly to himself. “Wing’s bent though. Probably bruised.”
Frank squeaked weakly in protest. Or maybe in an apology as he nuzzled against Gerard’s palm.
“Don’t worry,” Gerard said, smiling faintly as he pulled out a little ceramic ramekin and filled it with water. “I’m not calling a rescue. You’re not going anywhere.”
He paused, giving Frank an almost conspiratorial look
“You’re mine for now.”
‘ mine for now’ !? This handsome bitch just fucking kidnapped him!
Frank didn’t know how it had come to this.
One minute, he was a dignified creature of the night. The next, he was being carefully lifted off a desk towel and lowered into—of all things—a birdcage
A fucking birdcage
This had to be the most mortifying moment of his entire life
“I know, I know,” Gerard murmured as he slowly latched the tiny wire door shut. “It’s not ideal. I wasn’t expecting to bring home a bat tonight.”
Frank let out a sharp, indignant squeak, flapping his good wing once in protest, there was no way this human was gonna keep him in this cell, no matter how stupidly handsome he was
Gerard stepped back, hands raised as he let out a soft and amused laugh, “Hey, relax. It’s temporary. You’re hurt. You can’t just roam around in here — you’ll get stuck behind the fridge or fall into a can of acrylic or something of the sorts.”
Frank climbed halfway up the side of the cage and glared through the bars, his little face scrunched in furry, if there was one thing he hated about his bat form, it was his size and the fact that he couldn’t give this captivating imbecile a piece of his god damn mind.
“I see you, buddy,” Gerard said with a small laugh, stroking Frank slightly through the bars before retracting his firm fingers,“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who flew into my window.”
Yeah, don’t remind me
Frank squeaked louder this time. He tried to make it sound intimidating. It absolutely did not.
Despite his many protests, the odd human, Gerard, disappeared into the kitchen, humming softly, and returned a moment later with a small dish of water and a cut-up strawberry. He opened the cage just enough to slide the plate in, then shut it again with a click
“I googled what bats eat,” he said, like this was a completely normal sentence to say to a bat in a birdcage in a one-bedroom studio, “Apparently you guys are into fruit. So. Enjoy.”
What a fucking idiot
Frank shuffled sulkily to the corner, away from the food, it’s not like he could eat it. He wasn’t an actual fucking bat- he needed blood. Sure, he had a bit to drink earlier in the night, but he wasn’t sure how long it would be before he got hungry again. Maybe when the gorgeous artist wasn’t paying attention, he could bite one of his fingers and suck it that way.
Gerard sat back down at the desk, grabbing a fresh brush and glancing toward the cage. “You need a name,” he said. “Unless you already have one.”
Oh HELL no
“You feel like a…” Gerard narrowed his eyes. “Winston? Ehh Too formal, John? Nah, too basic….”
Frank made a pointed hffft noise and flopped dramatically onto his side, those names were horrible.
Gerard paused, then smirked. “I’ve got it”
Oh, please no
“Woobles”
Woobles…?
WOOBLES!?
Frank jolted it up and shrieked in defiance, that was the most wretched, god awful name he had ever heard- Woobles? Woobles? That sounded like the name for a pet- even then, he wouldn’t wish such a horrid name upon any pet, no matter how rabid they seemed.
Apparently, Gerard seemed to take Franks reaction the wrong way, and simply smiled and clasped his hands together, “Ah! That’s perfect! I’ll name you Woobles! You seem to like the name, eh?”
Frank snarled
“Awww you’re so cute, don’t worry Woobles. I’m going to be right here, okay? I’m going to be painting”
Fuck this
Gerard’s studio was cluttered, chaotic, and soaked in the smell of paint, old coffee, and something deeply human that made Frank's instincts gnash their teeth. Canvases leaned against the walls, half-finished portraits with haunted eyes. The floor was littered with crumpled paper, charcoal smudges, open sketchbooks. Sunlight slanted through wide warehouse windows, filtered through stained glass and dusty curtains, casting fractured colors over the room like a cathedral made by a madman.
He had known Gerard was a very talented artist, but seeing his masterpieces up close was a whole other experience. It was like he was living in every century he had ever experienced in the form of paint and ink- and as much as Frank hated to admit it…maybe he could get used to this
After what he could only guess had been an hour of watching Gerard slap paint on his canvas, the human finally turned around to greet him,“You okay in there, little guy?” he asked softly, leaning closer. “You’ve been real quiet.”
Frank blinked at him. Slowly. Dramatically. He hoped it conveyed contempt.
“I dunno what kind of bat you are,” Gerard continued, clearly unaware he was having a one-sided conversation with a centuries-old vampire currently trying to melt through the bars with sheer embarrassment, “but you’re definitely not local. You’ve got these little ears and… your eyes are freaky. But kinda beautiful.”
Frank hissed
He’d been burned, buried, hunted. But this—being called beautiful while trapped in a decorative birdcage by the human he’d been secretly stalking for weeks—was a brand-new kind of torture.
“I’m gonna take care of you,” Gerard said, smiling sweetly, as he reached for a fresh pencil. “Just until you can fly again. Then you’re free, little bat dude. Promise.”
Frank stared at him, watching the way his hair curled around his ears, the faint smudge of graphite on his cheekbone, the gentle curve of his hands. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not like this…vulnerable, small, seen.
But part of him—deep, buried, the part that kept him watching from rooftops and alleyways—felt something uncomfortably close to warmth.
Gerard went back to sketching, tongue poking out in concentration. Frank shifted on the perch, his wing twinging. He had to get out of here soon. Before Gerard got too curious. Before Frank healed and couldn’t keep pretending to be harmless. Before this—whatever this was—got worse.
Because if Gerard looked at him like that when he thought he was just a bat, Frank didn’t want to imagine what would happen if he saw the monster in the cage…
Gerard sat cross-legged on the floor in a sea of art supplies, one foot tapping to some obscure post-punk song playing softly from a battered speaker. His glasses were fogged from leaning too close to the page, charcoal smudged across his cheek. Every few minutes, he looked up at the cage with this maddening little smile—like Frank was some kind of adorable rodent and not, in fact, a brooding immortal with a body count and excellent taste in music.
“You have such an expressive face,” Gerard murmured, shading the fur between Frank’s ears. “I swear, it’s like you understand me. You’re totally listening, aren’t you, Woobles?”
Frank resisted the urge to throw himself against the bars. Mostly because his wing still twitched when he moved. And maybe, just maybe, because a part of him—some tiny, masochistic scrap of ego—liked being drawn. Liked being seen.
He hadn’t been a muse in decades.
Still. Woobles?
Gerard turned the sketchbook so Frank could see. “Look, I even got the pout right.”
I will burn your apartment down the second I have hands again
Gerard just grinned. “You’re such a little diva.”
Frank sighed through his tiny bat nose, wings sagging slightly in defeat.
Ray is never going to let me live this down
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed! Not sure how long I want this fic to be, but I guess we’ll find out! Kinda wrote this as a random late night thing, so if the grammar sucks I apologize, I promise it’ll get better! 🫶 as always, feel free to leave comments and suggestions down bellow! 🖤
Chapter 2: The Shadows of Her in His Heart
Summary:
Gerard is very sweet and wants to spoil and comfort Frank…which makes him think of the last time a mortal had ever treated him that way
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Frank had known humiliation in his long, undead life. He had once barley survived an exorcising attempt by a six-year-old with a spray bottle of holy water in 1978, He had, during his early years in 1734, try to feast on blood off of a vampire who he had mistaken to be a human, He had, once, mistakenly tried to seduce his own reflection in a mirror in 1862
But this?
This was the worst
The sweater was red
A soft, hand-knitted, blood-colored abomination , dotted with tiny black snowflakes and what might have been acorns. Or bats. Or potatoes. Frank didn’t know. He didn’t care. He was too busy flapping furiously in a damn birdcage that clinked and shivered every time he threw himself at its sides, which was more often than not
“Easy, little guy! Jeez,” Gerard said from the table, needle still threaded, fingers paint-stained and too gentle for the doom they wielded,”You’re gonna hurt your wing again.”
Wing. Singular. Because one of them was still busted as fuck, and probably would have been in a lot worse shape if it wasn’t for that beautiful, oblivious, mortal artist who had found him curled against his windowsill a few nights ago, bloodied and practically concussed after an unfortunate run-in with his not so lovely window.
Frank had stalked him for months . He had watched him very damn night from his window and tried to peer into his little artist world through late night spur of the moment paintings
—and now he was in a cage
Wearing a sweater
“Don’t look at me like that,” Gerard said, his voice warm and annoyingly fond as he approached the cage. “It’s gonna get chilly tonight, and you’re still healing. Look, I even left holes for your wings!”
Frank shrieked in fury. Or tried to. It came out more like a squeaky “REEE!” than the soul-curdling screech of ancient bloodlust he intended. His beady bat eyes glared
Gerard beamed. “That’s the spirit.”
The cage door opened with a click. Frank froze. He could bite him. He should bite him. A nice little nip on the finger, and Gerard would drop him, scream, run for the garlic—except Gerard didn’t smell like fear. He smelled like oil paint and cloves and ginger soap, and when he reached into the cage, he was smiling like someone reaching for a friend
Frank puffed up. Refused to move
“C’mon, just slip your little feet in—yeah, like that. I got your measurements right and everything. Took me three tries to figure out bat arms. Or wings? Are they both? You know what, never mind, you don’t care.”
He did not. He did not care. And yet…
The sweater was… warm
Infuriatingly warm. Soft, too. Not scratchy like he expected. It hugged his little bat body in a way that made his muscles stop clenching for the first time in two nights. He hated it. He wanted to burn it. He wanted twelve more
“There. Look at you!” Gerard held up a mirror fragment from the table and aimed it toward the cage. Frank reflexively flinched—only to see nothing
Right. No reflection. Vampire. Still. Even like this .
But Gerard just chuckled. “Huh. Weird angle, I guess. Anyway, you look adorable.”
Adorable
Frank pressed himself dramatically against the cage bars, looking like he might simply perish from despair. He flopped onto his side. The sweater had pom-poms . There were pom-poms on his back. He was going to die again.
Gerard leaned close, resting his chin on folded arms, watching him with that same maddening softness. “You’re a weird little thing, you know that?”
Frank stared. Wiggled one wing-hole just to spite him
Gerard merely offered Frank a soft smile and a roll of his eyes before getting back to work on another of his grandiose paintings
The little studio was lit only by the amber glow of a desk lamp and the dying orange flicker of candlelight. Gerard had fallen asleep on the couch again, curled awkwardly around a sketchpad, his fingers still smudged with charcoal. There was a piece of toast on the floor. The room smelled faintly of cloves and old coffee and something… soft. Wool, maybe. Or pine
Frank sat motionless on his perch
The sweater itched
Not physically—Gerard had taken care with the yarn, had even lined it with something smooth and non-abrasive for his “poor little wings.” No. It itched in the way memories did, the way ghosts did, in the moments between midnight and morning when the world went quiet enough to let in thoughts better left forgotten.
He had known this before
The softness. The kindness. The domesticity of it
A candle. A cup. A human with warm hands and too much light in their eyes
Frank flexed one tiny wing claw. The sweater squeaked faintly as he moved. The pom-poms on the back swayed like they were mocking him.
She had knitted, too
He didn’t let himself think of her often—what good would it do? The past was a ruined cathedral in his mind, scorched walls and collapsed rafters, and every time he dared walk its halls, the fire came back. Always the fire. The night her laughter disappeared. The screaming.
Not hers
His
Frank’s ears twitched. Somewhere outside, a car passed by on the wet street. The world moved on
He used to believe he was above it. Time. Grief. That was the lie immortality sold you. That you could outlive pain. That the centuries would sand it smooth
But it didn’t. It just buried it deeper
And now here he was. In a birdcage. Wrapped in a blood red sweater with hand-stitched black (acorns?) and His name— his name! —was Woobles
And the worst part?
The absolute, damning part?
He had started waiting for Gerard to come home
Not because he wanted to bite him (though, yes, he still did), not because it would be efficient or satisfying to vanish in a mist and slip away through the vents—but because some stupid, half-starved corner of himself liked the sound of the door opening. Liked the little hum Gerard made when he watered the plants. Liked the way he talked to Frank as if he were just a bat. Not a threat. Not a predator. Not a monster .
Just… a creature. In need of care
Frank curled his feet beneath him and shut his eyes. The sweater was heavy on his shoulders, but it held a kind of weight he remembered. A lap in front of a fire. The touch of hands that didn’t fear him
He wondered, sometimes, if Gerard knew. Not what he was—no, the fool hadn’t a clue—but that he was something . That behind the beady little bat eyes, something ancient watched back.
Gerard didn’t flinch
He just… smiled
Frank hated that
He wasn’t sure around what time he feel asleep, but when he awoke it was to the sound of a soft click of his cage’s latch, he could hear the soft dripping of rain and the low hum of cars in the distance. It was very dark, save for the moon and the city lights that poured faintly into the studio.
Frank’s eyes fluttered open, pupils shrinking to slits in the dim, warm light. His tiny claw twitched instinctively toward defense—then paused, registering the familiar scent of paint-stained hands and chamomile soap
“Hey, Wobbles,” Gerard murmured, barely more than breath, his voice soft enough not to startle. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
Frank blinked, groggy and defensive, still curled in the ridiculous little sweater. He didn’t move. He didn’t trust it. Gentle didn’t mean safe. He’d learned that… .long, long ago….
When he close his eyes, he could still see her. He could still feel the fire…and those finals words….
“Frankie!!! Help me!!!”
He flung his eyes open again, he had to stop thinking back to that night…he needed to stop thinking of her. She was gone now, and there was nothing he could do about it…
Somewhere, deep down, Frank worried that Gerard would notice that something was off…
But Gerard just smiled that slow, careful way of his—the kind meant for frightened animals and old, tired things. He reached into the cage with a very plush blanket, without much protest, he scooped Frank up, and cradled his small body against him.
“I figured you might want to come out tonight,” he said. “Movie time. Rainy night, cozy vibes. All that.”
Frank didn’t move
Gerard hesitated, then lowered his voice even more. “You can go back in the cage if you hate it. Promise.”
There was no fear in him. No edge. Just the open-hearted, frustrating warmth that made Frank want to bite him and curl up beside him at the same time. He huffed through his nose—a sound halfway between resignation and disgust-as he allowed Gerard to swaddle him in the damn blanket
Gerard beamed. “I knew you were secretly a cuddler.”
Frank chittered darkly. Cuddler was a war crime of a word
Frank was NOT a cuddler…
When Gerard had walked him over to the makeshift movie he made in the studio, Frank took notice of the different arrangement.The big table had been cleared, pens capped, canvases covered. The floor was scattered with cushions and an old mattress pad rolled into a kind of nest. Blankets were layered haphazardly, some clean, some clearly borrowed from the back of the couch. A little projector glowed faintly in the corner, humming to life as it cast dim white light on the far wall. Rain tapped softly against the windows
Gerard settled into the pile of cushions with practiced laziness and laid Frank’s blanket gently in his lap
“I couldn’t decide between old horror and weird indie stuff,” he said, reaching for the remote. “Figured I’d let you judge me silently no matter what I picked.”
Frank sat motionless in his plush cocoon, and did not deny this accusation
The projector flickered. A grainy black-and-white screen appeared. Gerard had picked something old—thankfully not some ass flick like Dracula, such a poor portrayal (okay, so what if he was a tough critic? The only true vampire that seemed to like that crap was Ray, but then again- Ray liked everything )
As the opening credits rolled, Frank let his body relax, just slightly. Not because it was nice. Not because Gerard had made a blanket nest. Not because the heat from the artist’s body seeped through the layers, warming his chilled bones in a way that had nothing to do with blood.
It was just… quieter here
Quieter than it had been in years
The movie flickered on the wall, shadows dancing like ghosts. Gerard reached absently down and adjusted the blanket, tucking it closer around Frank without looking, like he’d done it a hundred times before. Like it meant nothing.
Frank hadn’t been touched like that in centuries.
She had touched him like that
Once. Before the fire. Before the night everything collapsed. He remembered her fingers in his hair, brushing ashes from his coat. He remembered the smell of her skin as the room filled with smoke. He remembered running , the sound of splintering beams and—
He turned his face into the blanket, away from the screen, away from the memories. The fabric was warm. It smelled like Gerard. He hated that he noticed.
On the screen, someone screamed
Gerard chuckled. “That’s such bad Foley work. Did you hear that? It was like a goose trying to yodel.”
Frank made no sound. But his ears twitched. Just slightly
They sat like that for a long time. One man and one ancient, sweatered bat in the flickering blue of old film and rainlight. Frank didn’t sleep. But he let his eyes drift closed. Just for a while. Just long enough to forget the cage
Notes:
Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed, comments or feedback always appreciated 💕
Chapter 3: Vampires May Hurt You
Summary:
Yeah, okay….Frank may have fucked up
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Frank was having the worst week of his undead life
He’d survived not one, not two, but eleven sketching attempts made by Gerard, that stupidly handsome mortal artist who kept trying to capture his likeness. He had been forced on numerous occasions to wear that hideously gorgeous red sweater with those useless Pom poms. Every night, he had to sit in a damn birdcage and listen to Gerard’s captivating rants about…whatever intelligent idiotic thing he had to say.
And now, he heard more voices
Great
Frank's ears twitched under the blanket. He knew that first voice—Gerard’s—warm, drowsy, vaguely artistic. It had taken weeks of silent, graceful stalking to learn its patterns. Frank had memorized the rise and fall of that voice like a lullaby. He hadn’t planned to get attached.
He definitely hadn’t planned on getting injured , let alone rescued , let alone named Woobles .
But it got worse
A new voice entered. Sharp. Irritatingly confident. A lawyer? No— pre -law. Ugh. Frank could smell the ambition. He crept one eye open and peeked from beneath the blanket
Then the realization hit him like holy water to the face
It was Mikey- Gerard’s neighbor….wait a minute- that didn’t make sense, Gerard had mentioned his younger brother was coming over today….
Oh my god, those two were actually related!?
Frank had seen Mikey once, a few weeks ago leaving his apartment with plans to spend his day in a lecture hall, clutching a thick constitutional law book like it owed him money. Frank hadn’t connected the dots. He didn't think Gerard and Mikey were close . They didn’t seem like the kind of siblings who’d voluntarily hang out.
And then came the kicker: Pete
Frank blinked
Pete was here
As in Pete-the-dazed-burnout, Pete-the-menace-to-sobriety, Pete-who-smells-like-energy-drinks-and-bad-decisions. That Pete. Frank had seen Pete once as well a few weeks ago when he was making a drunken call to some friend about planning to hit up some campus parties that weekend, sometimes he’d stumble back to his apartment heavily drunk, mostly hovering near kegs and philosophizing about nothing. He hadn’t known Pete was dating Mikey the Machine
What the fuck was this dynamic?
“Hey little guy,” Pete slurred, leaning close to the cage. He tapped the bars, and Frank had to resist the ancient, unholy urge to bite his finger off. “You want some tequila?”
Frank’s eyes flashed red before he could stop it.
Idiot. Idiot! He shut them again quickly. Maybe they hadn’t noticed—
“I saw that,” Mikey said sharply. “His eyes just glowed. Tell me I didn’t just see that.”
“Lamp glare,” Gerard replied, completely unfazed
Frank wanted to scream
I’m a dignified predator of the night! Not your emotionally unstable Etsy bat!
Gerard, sweet, clueless Gerard, approached the cage and gently stroked ‘Woobles’ again“You’re scaring him. He’s sensitive.”
I’m literally 417 years old
Nuzzled into his blanket and fake concern, Frank tried to collect himself. He was supposed to be studying Gerard. Not becoming his... housepet. Oh god- Gerard probably thought as Frank as a pet….Frank’s tiny bat heart fluttered in panic.
Meanwhile, Mikey wandered toward the painting easel. “Is this him?”
Gerard didn’t even look up. “Yeah. I call it ‘Sanctuary’s Lost Bat’”
Pete leaned in, squinting. “Dude... he looks evil.”
Frank smirked internally. Thank you.
“It’s just a bat,” Gerard said softly. “A weird, little, broken bat.”
You’re not wrong
As the brothers argued about animal rehab laws and Pete sank deeper into the couch like a slug dissolving in sunlight, Frank lay completely still in his birdcage- yes- his birdcage-
his tiny claws clutching the soft blanket like a security net as he listened to the Way brothers argue about useless mortal laws
“You do realize this is wildlife possession , right?” Mikey said, folding his arms in that stiff, judgey way that meant he’d just entered Closing Arguments mode. “Like. Actually illegal. You can't just scoop up a random animal and turn your apartment into a bat rehab center.”
Gerard didn't look up from his half-finished sketch, charcoal smeared across one cheek. “He’s not a ‘random animal.’ He’s Woobles. ”
Frank, clutching his blanket, grimaced in silence.
He is not ‘Woobles’ He is Frank Iero- one of the oldest and honorable vampires in New Jersey.
“He’s a bat , Gerard,” Mikey pressed, gesturing toward the cage like it was a crime scene. “A potentially diseased, definitely wild, definitely not-certified-for-domestic-care bat. You don’t have a permit. You don’t have training. You don’t even have gloves.”
“I have instincts,” Gerard said proudly, and Pete snorted from the couch
“Instincts don’t hold up in court,” Mikey snapped
Frank would’ve rolled his eyes if his tiny bat body had the muscle control. Instead, he nestled deeper into the blanket, trying not to panic. He was healing—but not healed. If Mikey took this seriously enough to call animal control, or worse, some kind of wildlife authority , Frank was done for, it they’d probably try to put him down and realize he just simply couldn’t die.
They’d find out everything
“Okay,” Gerard said slowly, raising his hands. “First of all, I’m not exploiting him. I’m feeding him, I’m giving him space. Second, he flew into my studio window bleeding. What was I supposed to do—toss him back outside?”
“Call a licensed rehab center. Like a normal person.”
“And risk him being put down?”
Pete perked up from the couch. “I mean, he’s kind of cute. For a tiny gremlin.”
Frank snarled internally
Mikey paced now, hands slicing the air as he built his case. “You don’t even know if he’s a native species! He could be invasive. He could be dangerous. What if he bites someone?”
Gerard leaned against the wall, expression unreadable. “He’s not gonna bite anyone. He barely moves.”
Pete wobbled toward the cage again and squinted at Frank. “He does kinda look like he’s judging us, though.”
Correct
Frank blinked slowly, fixing Pete with the most passive-aggressive glare his little face could muster
“He should be judging you,” Mikey muttered, “You’ve got him living in a damn birdcage surrounded by easels and paint.”
“It’s aesthetic, ” Gerard replied, completely straight-faced
Pete, now walked up beside the suspended cage, grinned. “You think he gets art? Like, do bats see in color?”
Frank considered screeching. Not even a vampire screech. Just a normal bat screech. Just to watch Pete fall backward into a pile of canvases and maybe knock over Mikey’s entire moral framework
But he resisted
Just barely
Mikey rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Look, I know you think this is some emotional support bat situation, or whatever—”
“I never said that.”
“—but you’re not equipped for this. What if it’s sick? What if it dies , Gerard?”
Gerard paused. For just a moment, the defensiveness cracked, and something soft shimmered behind his eyes
“Then at least he wouldn’t have died alone.”
Frank froze
Something twisted inside his tiny chest something old and shriveled and inconveniently human….that was a very sweet statement coming from Gerard….he didn’t like noticing sweet stament, vampires didn’t need to notice sweet statements….
What an idiot
Mikey stared at him for a moment, then sighed,“You’re such a bleeding heart. You know that?”
Gerard offered a tired smile. “Comes with being the weird older brother.”
Pete raised his flask in mock salute. “To weird older brothers... and their bat roommates.”
Frank considered biting him after all. Just a tiny bite. Just enough to scare him sober.
But as the conversation moved on—Mikey continuing to threaten vague legal action, Gerard arguing back with moral poetry, and Pete now lying half-asleep on the floor—Frank settled again under his blanket
Things were spiraling faster than he liked
He’d need to leave soon
But not before he figured out what that strange feeling in his chest meant. Not hunger. Not fear
Something more real than that
Something worse
“Hey, Mikey,” he said, wiping charcoal off his hands, “can I show you something real quick? In the office?”
“The office?” Mikey frowned. “You mean that closet with your tax documents and broken scanner?”
“Yes, that office.” Gerard was already walking toward the hallway. “It’s about Mom and Dad’s estate stuff. They sent that weird letter and the bank documents. I haven’t opened it. It’s too... form-y.”
Mikey, predictably responsible and slightly annoyed, followed. “Of course you didn’t open it. Why would you? It's only legally important.”
“Exactly,” Gerard called back. “And terrifying.”
As they disappeared into the office room down the hall, Pete flopped back onto the couch with all the grace of a falling mannequin. The studio was silent, save for the distant creak of floorboards and the low hum of an ancient space heater
And Frank
Still in the birdcage
Suspended near the window, cloaked in half-shadow and full loathing
Pete turned his attention to him, eyes bloodshot, breath reeking of cheap whiskey and stubborn curiosity, “Y'know,” Pete slurred, pointing at Frank, “you’re really smug for a rodent with wings.”
Frank didn’t move
Didn’t blink
Didn’t even breathe
Pete grinned, clearly taking that as encouragement. “Gerard’s obsessed with you. It’s kinda cute, but also, like, weirdly codependent . I mean—he named you Woobles , bro.”
Frank twitched
“Woobles,” Pete repeated, letting the word roll around his mouth like it was a joke he didn’t quite get, “Like... What even is that? Is that supposed to be affectionate or just pathetic?”
Frank’s claws gripped the perch a little tighter. He could feel his pulse quickening, fangs pressing just beneath his gums. His injuries were healing fast now—faster than he expected. Faster than was normal. Rage had a way of speeding things up.
Pete stood, wobbling, and stumbled toward the hanging cage. “You know what’s funny? I bet you’re not even hurt anymore. You’re just faking so Gerard keeps feeding you grapes and telling you you’re special.”
Frank shifted slightly. Eyes narrow. No more playing dead
Pete reached a finger between the cage bars.
“Boop.”
That was it
Frank launched from the perch like a shadow on fire
A blur of leathery wings and hissing fury shot forward and sank his fangs into Pete’s hand , right at the wrist, through skin and artery and bone like silk
Pete screamed
Frank tried to stop. Tried. It was meant to be a warning. A scare. A scrape.
But instinct had taken over, and with instinct came venom —not the kind that killed.
The kind that changed .
A hot pulse of ancient vampire blood surged into Pete’s veins. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t even conscious. It was reflex , the kind no self-respecting elder vampire should’ve let slip.
Pete staggered back, grabbing his wrist. “OH FUCK!!!!”
He collapsed hard onto the floor, limbs jerking, eyes wide, face pale as chalk.
Frank flapped frantically back into the cage, clumsily catching the perch with one claw. He was panting, wings half-open, horrified.
Idiot.
Idiot, idiot, IDIOT.
He’d just turned Gerard’s brother’s boyfriend into a fucking vampire
Gerard, the sweet, soft artist who whispered to him at night.
Gerard, who thought he was just a hurt little bat named Woobles .
Frank stared down at Pete’s twitching body. The venom was already working. His heartbeat had slowed. Eyes rolling back. Muscles spasming as the infection rewrote his blood, his cells, his entire being.Frank hissed softly to himself.
He couldn’t undo it
He couldn’t take it back
And Gerard—Gerard was going to come out of that office in approximately thirty seconds with a folder full of estate documents and find his brother’s boyfriend unconscious on the hardwood floor with vampire spit in his bloodstream
Frank closed his eyes
This was going to be a problem
He didn’t mean to kill him
He really didn’t
But now that the deed had been done, Frank could not move. Couldn’t even hide. He was in a literal birdcage , hanging from the ceiling like some gothic air freshener
But not long after the drunk burnout had screamed and collided with the floor, a very panicked pre-law student and his artist brother came running into the studio, Mikey’s eyes wide in horror
“PETE?! PETE ARE YOU OKAY!?”
Gerard was right behind him. “What—what the hell?!”
They rushed forward. Mikey dropped to his knees so fast his phone flew from his pocket and clattered across the floor. He grabbed Pete’s face with shaking hands, slapping lightly at his cheek, then harder
“Pete—PETE—babe—wake up—come on—no no no no no—”
Frank clung to the cage bars, heart racing so fast it hurt.Gerard was staring, wide-eyed, at Pete’s unmoving chest
“Is he... oh my God.”
Mikey pressed two fingers to Pete’s neck, trying to find a pulse
Nothing
“No... no no no no—” Mikey’s voice broke. “He’s not breathing. Gerard, he’s not—he’s not breathing! Fuck, fuck, fuck…!” The younger Way brother let out a chocked sob, as he shook his boyfriend’s shoulders desperately.
Gerard held his breath, his eyes wide in terror for his little brother. He watched the scene with a worried expression, when he finally let his eyes drift back up to who may be the culprit…
At the cage
At Woobles
Frank tried his best to look... innocent? Concerned? Not supernaturally responsible for the lifeless body on the floor?
Mikey seemed to catch on to Gerard’s thought process, when he clenched his teeth and seethed, “Did... did he do this?”
Gerard stuttered, meeting Mikey’s furious gaze in panic, “W-What!? No…! There’s no way Mikey, he’s just a little bat-“
Mikey’s hands were cupping Pete’s cold pale face, and he was shaking so hard he couldn’t finish dialing 911 on his phone
“He’s dead, Gerard. He’s— he’s dead and your STUPID FUCKING PET KILLED HIM—”
“I didn’t—he’s never—he’s just—”
Mikey stood up, eyes blazing, completely unraveling. “YOUR STUPID FUCKING BAT IS GOING TO PRISON. FOR MANSLAUGHTER . I SWEAR TO GOD, I’LL DRAG THAT RODENT THERE MYSELF—”
And right in the middle of the shouting—
Pete moved
Just a twitch at first
Then a sudden, sharp inhale—like someone drowning at the surface of a dream
Mikey froze, a single tear running down his face as he adjusted his fogged up glasses, “B-Babe…?”
Pete’s eyes snapped open, and he gasped so hard it sounded like his lungs were rebooting
Mikey jumped back with a strangled cry, nearly slipping on the hardwood. Gerard staggered a few steps, grabbing the edge of a paint table for balance
Pete blinked slowly, face pale, eyes glassy.
“...What the fuck just happened?” he muttered, rubbing his temples like someone waking from a nap they didn’t remember taking
Frank, in his cage, didn’t breathe
Red
He saw it instantly
Pete’s eyes were red
Not bloodshot. Not hungover-red. But glowing faintly—unnaturally—like embers that hadn’t finished burning out
But Mikey, still on an adrenaline high and probably in shock, didn’t notice
He dropped to his knees again and threw his arms around Pete , practically knocking him over
“Oh my god,” Mikey whispered, breath hitching. “Oh my god, I thought you were—I thought—Jesus, Pete, you weren’t breathing—”
Pete blinked. “I... I what?”
“You were dead…”, Mikey sobbed, his voice trembling. It was a sad sight to see, the pre-law student’s strong voice being striped away from him merely due to the almost-death of a burnout- Frank thought it was pathetic.
“I don’t... remember that part,” Pete mumbled into Mikey’s hoodie. “I remember... feeling weird. Like I passed out. Was there tequila in your hand sanitizer again?”
Gerard crept closer, cautiously crouching beside them
“Pete,” he said slowly, “do you feel... okay?”
Pete looked up at him
Red eyes
Frank let out a sound—half-squeak, half-guttural curse. Neither of them noticed
“Yeah,” Pete said, blinking fast. “My head kinda hurts, and I feel like I could eat a truck, but... yeah. Just woozy.”
Mikey cupped his cheeks, relief pouring out of him. “I thought I lost you. I thought that bat —”
Frank flinched
“—bit you and gave you bat rabies or something and I was going to have to sue my brother and also maybe bury you.”
Pete blinked again, dazed. “You were gonna sue Gerard?”
“Yes.”
“Hot.”
Gerard cleared his throat. “Um. Pete? Your... your eyes. They’re...”
“Red?” Pete wiped at them with his sleeve. “I know, I know, Mikey tells mw that a million fucking times dude. I took a couple swigs earlier from that whiskey bottle Mikey thinks I don’t know he hides in the laundry basket.”
“I do not —”
“Babe. You literally labeled it ‘Socks 2.’”
Mikey let out a watery laugh, still clinging to Pete like he might slip away again. “I don’t care. I don’t even care. You’re alive. I can’t believe you’re alive.”
Gerard didn’t say anything
Because Pete’s skin looked... different
Too pale. Like there wasn’t enough blood circulating anymore
Frank was frozen in the cage, gripping the bars like they were the only thing keeping him from jumping out and shaking someone by the shoulders
He’s turned. He’s not human anymore. He doesn’t know it. They don’t know it
And the worst part?
Frank knew the signs. Pete had maybe a few hours before the real changes started. The hunger. The strength. The daylight problem.
And if no one figured it out in time...
There might not be a next time Pete comes back from the floor
————————————————————————
The apartment was quiet again
Mikey had left with Pete, one arm wrapped tightly around him, muttering something about going straight to urgent care and then suing Gerard into oblivion
Pete had still looked pale. Still slightly dazed. Still red-eyed
Now Frank sat alone
The cage swayed slightly, caught in the updraft from the space heater. The shadows of its bars painted warped lines across the wall, across the floor, across Frank’s wings, he stared out at the room t he coffee mug still sitting on the table. The open sketchbook. The half-squeezed paint tubes and the half-finished portrait of him —painted as a bat, not a man.
When he was first captured, Frank through that maybe, it wouldn’t be an issue. Stay small. Stay harmless. Watch from the shadows
But now...
Now he had killed a man
Okay—not technically . Pete was a vampire- so maybe undead was a better term. But he wouldn’t be the same for long, the human in him would die.
Frank knew how it went. The denial. The confusion. The hunger
And if Pete hurt Mikey—or anyone—it would be Frank’s fault
The responsible thing was to come clean. Tell Gerard everything. Tell him what he was. What Pete had become
But the thought made something twist in his gut.
Because telling Gerard meant ending this
No more Woobles
No more warm hands gently placing grapes in the food dish that Frank couldn’t eat.No more whispered stories. No more long, quiet nights curled on fleece in the only room that had ever felt like sanctuary.
No more pretending he was something harmless.
Frank’s claws tightened around the perch
He could leave
He could wait until Gerard fell asleep, slip from the cage, shift, and vanish into the night. Leave a note. Disappear like a dream. Let the mess follow behind him
Or...
He could stay
Shift right here. Now. Walk into the middle of Gerard’s world with bare feet and blood on his hands and say: “I’m not who you think I am. I never was. But I’m the only one who knows what’s coming.”
Frank’s wings trembled
He could still hear Gerard’s voice from earlier, raw with guilt: “He’s just a bat. He’s not dangerous.”
What an idiot, he was just like she was…
Frank closed his eyes
He stayed in the cage
But he didn’t sleep
And when dawn began creeping through the studio window, pale and gold and soft as breath, he still hadn’t made up his mind
Notes:
Hope you guys enjoyed that chapter! As always comments and feedback always appreciated 🖤(Pete is so cooked)
Chapter 4: No More 'Woobles'
Summary:
Frank knows he fucked up, and that he's gotta face Gerard sooner or later...Pete's screwed, but they may be in a more dangerous situation than any of them had ever bargained for...
time to rip off the band-aid, no more Woobles
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The city murmured outside—soft traffic sounds, distant voices, the occasional clatter of something falling in an alleyway. But inside Gerard’s apartment, all was still
The studio was dark, except for the flickering glow of a candle on the nightstand beside his bed. The rest of the room melted into shadows, warm and quiet, wrapped in the scent of wax, old books, and linseed oil
Gerard lay in bed on his side, knees tucked up, a dog-eared paperback held in one hand. It was some old horror novel he’d read twice before—Victorian, romantic, full of creeping fog and tragic monsters. The kind of thing he liked when the city felt too bright and real
He turned a page lazily, eyes tired, the warm hush of night making everything feel slower…softer, and then-
A sound
Not loud
Just the faintest shift of weight across the old floorboards
Gerard looked up
At first, he thought it was a trick of the candlelight. A shadow, maybe. A silhouette caught in the corner of his vision.
But then the figure stepped forward.
And Gerard sat up, heart thudding once.
Someone broke into his home
There was a man standing in his doorway.
Tall. Pale. Dressed in black. His hair was dark, tousled like he'd flown through wind, his eyes a deep, endless kind of brown that flickered red for half a second in the candlelight.
He wasn’t familiar
And yet... something about him was, like a memory you weren’t sure you made up, despite the intriguing sight, Gerard’s throat was dry with fear,“Wh—who are you?”
The man didn’t answer right away
He stepped into the room slowly, carefully, the shadows peeling off him like a second skin. His face was striking—handsome in that strange, sharp way that didn't feel quite modern. All high cheekbones and a mouth too cruel to be soft, too soft to be cruel
But his eyes—
There was something ancient behind them.
And something.. . embarrassed?
Gerard grabbed the edge of his comforter, half-sitting up, adrenaline kicking in way too slowly.
“Are you—are you a friend of Mikey’s or something? Because he knows he can’t send people here this late, I’m not—”
“I’m not a friend of Mikey’s,” the man said quietly. His voice was low and guttural, Gerard’s heart began to pound, it felt like ice had just been washed down his veins.
He stared at the intimidating man with wide eyes, unsure of what to do. How the hell did this man even get in his apartment? He was certain he locked the door…He really hoped he wasn’t gonna die tonight.
“I—I think you’ve got the wrong apartment.”
“I don’t,” the man said
And then he stepped fully into the candlelight.
And Gerard saw the tiniest scar above his right eyebrow. A little cut….an oddly specific, all too familiar cut….
Exactly like the one the bat had
And that’s when it hit him
Gerard froze. “...Woobles?”
The man flinched, his gaze flickering to the side momentarily
“I hate that name.”
Gerard’s jaw dropped, he shook his head in disbelief, “Holy shit….”
“Yeah,” Frank said with a wince, running a hand through his hair. “This is kind of a weird moment for both of us.”
“You’re—you’re—you’re the bat?!”
“I’m not a bat, Gerard,” Frank said tiredly. “I’m a vampire. I just… spend time as a bat…Also, my name’s Frank by the way, not fucking ‘Woobles’”
“Wh—you—” Gerard blinked rapidly. “You were in my cage. You wore my sweater!”
“A very hideous and degrading sweater might I add.” Frank snapped
Gerard opened his mouth as if to protest, but instead his voice dropped to a whisper, “I sketched you.”
“I know,” Frank muttered, cheeks going a little pink. “You’re... very good.”
The candlelight flickered between them, long shadows dancing across the bed, across the walls, across Frank’s face
Gerard stared. “Why are you telling me this now?”
Frank’s eyes widened slightly as if he began to remember why he had been here in the first place, a look of immense guilt flashed across his eyes, “Because I hurt someone you care about.”
Gerard’s stomach turned, he knew exactly who he was talking about,”Pete.” He breathed
Frank nodded once, and then hastily yet hesitantly tried to assure Gerard, “He’s not dead- not really- but he’s... different now and…” Frank sucked in a deep breath, “…and it’s my fault.”
Gerard pressed a hand to his forehead. “This is insane. This is—this is absolutely insane”
“I know.”
“You almost killed my little brother’s freaking boyfriend- And hell, I thought you were, like, a freaking rescue bat.”
“I kind of was,” Frank said. “Emotionally.”
Gerard laughed—too loud and a little panicked.
Frank didn’t move
“I just... I needed you to know,” he said softly. “Because what’s coming next? It’s not going to be simple. And I think I owe you honesty. At the very least.”
Gerard stared at him, raising an eyebrow. Then he shook his head and began to study Frank with that ‘artist glare’ , the look Gerard gave something when he was trying to direct the beauty in every little thing around him. Then, slowly, he set his book down, looking at Frank with a blank stare and a low whisper, “You’re really hot for a bat” it was more of a matter of a fact statement than a compliment, but none the less Frank blushes at his words
The vampire blinked, running an unsure hand through his hair with a sigh, “That’s... not where I thought this conversation would go…”
Gerard looked him up and down, dazed. “Do you own, like... a shirt?”
Frank glanced down at his stolen hoodie—Gerard’s hoodie, actually—and pulled it tighter around him
“I’m working on it.”
Gerard rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh as he tried to process the situation,“You were in my house for weeks,” Gerard said slowly, voice rising with each word. “You were just... hanging out. In my studio. As a bat.”
Frank shifted awkwardly, hands deep in the sleeves of the hoodie—Gerard’s hoodie, the sleeves still stained with charcoal smudges. “I wasn’t just hanging out. I was healing. It’s not exactly a spa day being a broken-winged vampire.”
“You were relaxing! On my pillow! You stole wore my hand knitted sweater! You watched me paint like some creepy little flying goblin!”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “Okay, now you’re just being rude to bats.”
Gerard threw up his hands. “You are a bat!”
“I’m a vampire ,” Frank corrected. “I just use the bat thing. For stealth.”
Gerard blinked, then squinted. “You never ate the fruit.”
“ What ?”
“You never ate the fruit I left out! I thought you were a picky little freak, but it’s because you can’t eat anything but blood!”
Frank winced. “Yeah, that was awkward. I didn’t want to be rude.”
So you just lied ?”
“How is that lying!?” Frank snapped
Gerard stared at him, eyes wild. “You are the worst rescue bat in history .”
“I was never a rescue bat.”
“You were in a cage , Frank.”
“ You put me in a cage!”
“Because you were small and adorable and I thought you needed help!”
“First off- I’m not small OR adorable, second off- yes- I needed help, okay? My wing was busted and…and..what I’m trying to say is..” Frank sighed heavily, “Thank you”
Gerard shook his head, muttering a half-assed ‘you’re welcome’ with flushed cheeks before he made an inhuman noise and flopped backward onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling like it personally offended him.
Frank hovered awkwardly in the middle of the room.
A long silence passed
“You bit Pete”
“That wasn’t on purpose!”
Gerard gaped at him. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you just accidentally sink your fangs into my brother’s boyfriend?! Did you trip and fall mouth-first into his fucking hand?”
“Oh, for fucks sake-“ Frank grounded at the mention of that annoying drunkard.
"You bit Pete! My little brother’s boyfriend!"
"It wasn’t, like, a planned thing," Frank said quickly. "He was drunk. He kept messing with the cage. Poking at me. Calling me a 'cute little goblin.'"
Gerard face palmed, “Oh my God.”
“I warned him!” Frank added, holding up his hands. “I screeched. Multiple times might I add- And he just kept laughing and trying to boop my nose!!”
"You bit him because he tried to boop your nose !?"
“I bit him because he stuck his fingers in the cage and kept wiggling them like I was some kind of wind-up toy! It was a reflex !”
Gerard looked like he was buffering. “You turned him into a vampire because he was drunk and annoying?”
Frank flinched. “I didn’t mean to turn him. It’s not like I gave him a pamphlet and an application. It just... happened.”
Gerard clutched his forehead. “Pete is a vampire .”
Frank held up one finger. “Half-vampire. ”
“Pete.” Gerard said again, staring at the ceiling like he was praying for divine intervention. “Pete Wentz is half a vampire because he tried to pet you while drunk”
“Yeah”
“And he doesn’t know?”
Frank paused
Gerard's voice dropped into an octave that could curdle milk. “ Frank… .”
Frank winced. “I thought he’d notice…?”
“You thought he’d notice !?”
“I mean—there are signs…! Like um…”Frank trailed off, “Alright, I know. Okay? I know. I messed up.”
“You think?”
Frank started pacing. “Look, I didn’t want this to happen. I was planning to leave before anything got worse. Before you noticed. Before Pete noticed. Before Mikey—”
Gerard rounded on him. “Oh hell no. You don’t get to just drop this and vanish. My brother’s boyfriend is going full-blown Twilight and you’re telling me you were just gonna ghost us like a bad Tinder date?”
“I panicked!”
“I named you Woobles !”
“Yeah and for the record- I hated that, by the way!”
“I gave you fruit! You never even ate the fruit!”
Frank looked genuinely offended. “We already went over this crap! I can’t digest fruit, Gerard. I’m undead.”
“YOU COULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING!”
Frank threw his hands up. “How? In tiny bat charades?!”
Gerard made a choked noise and sank onto the edge of the bed, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I can’t believe this. I let a blood-sucking cryptid live in my house. I let you wear my handmade sweater. You watched me sleep.”
“Okay, first of all, rude. And second, I didn’t watch you sleep. I just... existed near you... during the night... while you were sleeping.”
Gerard groaned.
Frank hesitated. “I’m sorry.”
The apology hung in the air like a storm cloud.
After a long moment, Gerard lowered his hands and stared at him. “You have to fix this.”
“I’m trying .”
“You have to tell him.”
“I will. Just... not yet.”
“You bit someone, Frank! You changed someone! And you didn't even tell them! That’s not just ‘oops, sorry,’ that's a felony in, like, fifteen vampire novels!”
Frank slumped into the old armchair by the window. “I know. But what am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Pete, you know that weird flu you’ve had? That’s vampirism. Congrats! Hope you weren’t into sunlight or garlic bread.’”
Gerard gave him a flat look. “You’re unbelievable .”
Frank didn’t respond. He just looked tired. Haunted. Guilty in a way that made Gerard’s anger dim for half a second
And that made it worse
Because if Frank wasn’t some soulless monster—if he was just a screwed-up person who’d messed up monumentally—then what the hell were they supposed to do now?
Gerard folded his arms, voice lower now. “You tell him. Soon . And if you don’t? I will.”
Frank looked up at him, that ancient sadness flickering in his eyes again
“Okay,” he said softly. “Fair.”
Gerard stared at him for a moment, then added:
“And then you’re buying me a new fruit bowl. For emotional damages.”
Frank blinked. “Seriously?”
“It was artisanal.”
Frank rolled his eyes and sat in the armchair, elbows on his knees, staring into the candlelight like it might offer an escape. Gerard didn’t speak. Not for a while. He just paced in slow, tight circles across the floor, muttering under his breath.
Finally, Gerard stopped
“So what now? You just... what? Hang out here and wait for Pete to start biting people? Hope he doesn’t notice he’s suddenly nocturnal and allergic to church bells?”
Frank didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly, he sucked in a breath, “It’s not just about Pete anymore.”
Gerard froze
“What does that mean?”
Frank looked up. “There’s a ripple when someone’s turned. Even halfway. It leaves a mark. And the Council ... they notice things like that.”
Gerard’s heart dropped into his stomach,“ Council ? Who the actual fuck are the council!?”
“The vampire Council,” Frank said grimly. “They enforce the rules. Keep humans in the dark. Keep accidents contained.”
“Are you seriously telling me there’s a secret vampire government ?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve pissed them off?”
Frank looked to the side and let out a nervous laugh as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “Eh… Extensively ….on erm, numerous occasions might I add”
Gerard threw his hands up. “ Great! Cool! Fantastic! Not only is Pete turning into an unlicensed Dracula, but now there’s vampire Men in Black after us?!”
“Uhhh something like that, yeah,” Frank muttered
Gerard just glared at him, “What do they do when they find people like Pete?”
Frank didn’t answer
“ Frank .”
“They clean it up.”
“What does that mean?”
Frank looked him dead in the eye. “It means they make the problem disappear.”
The room went dead silent
Gerard felt like the air had been knocked out of him.
“They’ll kill him,” he whispered, “…Or turn him fully,” Frank continued with an exhausted sigh, “Which could kill him anyway.”
Gerard turned away, hands trembling. “You should’ve told us days ago.”
“I didn’t think they’d find him this fast. But something’s changed….but I got a signal tonight. From one of their scouts.”
Gerard’s head whipped around. “What kind of signal?”
Frank reached into the inside of his hoodie pocket and pulled something out
It was a coin. Blackened silver. Etched with a symbol Gerard didn’t recognize—some gothic crest with teeth and a crown.
“They sent me this,” Frank said. “Means they’re close. Means they already know someone’s been turned in this area, they send out these coins to vampires they believe could be culprits, and if I don’t report... they’ll come looking.”
Gerard stared at the coin.
“That was in my apartment?” he hissed
Frank just looked tired. “Yeah.”
“Okay, this is so far beyond me,” Gerard said, backing toward the door. “You mean to tell me you’re on a government vampire watchlist!? And now they’re after my brother’s boyfriend because you bit him!?”
“I didn’t mean to!”
“Well maybe don’t bite people next time!”
“I was a bat!” Frank snapped. “I was injured! And Pete was—”
Frank was mid-rant when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He flinched, and Frank froze in place. They both stared at the screen.
Mikey
Gerard hissed through his teeth. “Oh God, it’s Mikey.”
Frank’s eyes widened. “Don’t answer it.”
“I have to answer it. If I don’t, he’ll show up here with a spreadsheet and a subpoena.”
“Lie,” Frank said. “Just—stall him.”
“Do I look like I can lie to a future lawyer? He cross-examined me in middle school about stealing his eyeliner. I cracked in under thirty seconds.”
The phone buzzed again
Gerard groaned and answered, trying to keep his voice neutral. “Hey, Mikes. Everything okay?”
“Gerard.” Mikey’s voice was clipped. Professional. He already sounded like he was building a case file in his head. “I need to talk to you about Pete.”
Frank mouthed ‘oh fuck’ behind him
Gerard cleared his throat, turning toward the wall. “Yeah? What about him?”
“He’s acting weird.”
Gerard swallowed. “Erm…define ‘weird’”
“I mean—he’s always weird. But this is different. He hasn’t eaten anything in two days except for, like, frozen blueberries and beef jerky. He says real food tastes ‘flat.’ He’s been staying up all night reading gothic novels. And today he said the word ‘moonlight’ like it was a love interest.”
Gerard winced. “...Mood?”
“Also,” Mikey went on, unamused, “He said my neck smelled nice. Not in a flirty way. In a ‘hunger’ way.”
Gerard slapped a hand over his mouth.
Frank watched him with a look that said: Don’t you dare
Mikey continued, his voice low and monotone,“And when I asked him what was up, he said, and I quote, ‘Nothing, babe, I feel like a sexy Dracula.’”
Gerard let out a choked wheeze
Mikey sighed. “Do you think the bat bite had something to do with this? He got weird after that. Like, the next day. Is that a thing? Zoonotic bat-diseases or something? Vampirism isn't, like, real, right?”
Gerard turned slowly to look at Frank, who was now fully hiding behind the armchair, holding the cracked vampire coin like it was going to explode
Gerard’s mouth moved soundlessly for a second, and then he let out a forced painful and dismissive laugh, “haha…! So….uh….so funny Mikey! Of course vampirism’s not real. That’s... no. That’s fiction. You’ve been watching too much—uh—what’s that show with the hot nun and the werewolf dentist?”
“Blood Chapel,” Mikey said flatly
“Yeah, that one. It's melting your brain.”
“I’m being serious,” Mikey said. “He’s not sleeping. His heartbeat’s slower. He stared at a pigeon for twenty straight minutes earlier. Unblinking.”
Gerard forced a laugh. “He’s just... being dramatic….or drunk-You know Pete.”
“He asked if I had any enemies I wanted ‘taken care of.’ And then kissed my hand Gerard”
“Romantic?”
“Threatening”
Frank peeked over the chair and mimed wrap it up
Gerard rubbed his face. “Look, maybe it’s a delayed reaction to the bite. Or, like, anemia. Or low blood sugar? Can we circle back on this tomorrow? I have a... a lot going on right now.”
“Like what?”
Gerard panicked. “A canvas emergency.”
Mikey was silent for a beat, letting out an annoyed sighed, “A what ?”
Frank snorted quietly
“Look,” Gerard rushed on, “just keep an eye on Pete. Make sure he doesn’t... start levitating or whatever. I’ll check in tomorrow. Okay?”
Mikey sighed. “Fine. But if he bites me, I’m suing both of you”
“Goodnight, Mikey”
He hung up before Mikey could say more.
The room was quiet again
Frank stood slowly
“That went well,” he offered
Gerard turned and threw a pillow at him, “you better get this whole situation fucking figured out”
Frank turned the coin in this hand…a painful memory of her floating through his brain…a screeching reminder of that the beginning of the end had looked like…he looked back up at Gerard to meet his eyes, and in it- just for a second- he saw hers …he wouldn’t let the same thing happen again, he would protect Gerard with all of his might.
He’d do it
For Jamia
Notes:
I hope you guys liked the chapter! May the Gerard and Frank romance now officially commence ;) Also, for everyone who's gonna miss Frank as Woobles the bat, don't worry, I still plan to add some Frank bat moments here and there throughout the story 🖤
Chapter 5: Standing Trial For His Sins
Summary:
Mikey has a mock trial at University today, and invites Gerard and Frank to come along...
The only issue?
Pete
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Gerard was halfway through his first cup of coffee when his phone buzzed across the table with all the enthusiasm of a warning siren.
He squinted at the screen, still groggy.
Mikey.
Gerard winced. Nothing good ever started with a Mikey call before 10 AM.
He picked up anyway, voice scratchy. “What? Did Pete bite a pigeon or something?”
“No,” Mikey said, flatly. “Good morning to you, too.”
Gerard yawned into the speaker. “Mornin’. What’s the crisis? Pete start levitating yet?”
There was a pause on the other end, and then Mikey said, “No, and stop acting like he’s a cryptid. He’s just been asking strange questions, that’s all. He pestered the barista this morning for her blood type?"
Gerard choked on his drink. “WHAT?”
“Nothing that concerns me,” Mikey said, unbothered. “Anyway. I’m calling because I have a mock trial today. It’s part of my courtroom procedures class. Two o’clock today. You should come.”
Gerard blinked. “...What?”
“I’m playing lead counsel. Defense side. Real judge. Real opposing team. Fake murder. Classic drama.”
“Okay, but why would I go to that?” Gerard asked, pouring more coffee. “I’m not even awake right now. And you know how I feel about—like— law energy. ”
“Law energy?” Mikey repeated, deadpan.
“You know. Suits. Yelling. Rules. Terrible lighting. The words objection sustained. That vibe.”
Mikey sighed. “It’s important to me.”
“Right, but see, so is not developing hives from being in a courtroom again—”
“Pete’s coming.”
Gerard froze mid-sip.
The mug clinked softly on the counter.
“…Pete?”
“Yes.”
“As in: your boyfriend Pete?”
“I only have one.” Mikey deadpanned.
“I’ll be there,” he said instantly.
Mikey paused, his typical monotone courtroom voice faltering, “Wait, really?”
“Absolutely. Can’t wait.”
“Huh. I thought you hated this stuff.”
“I do. But I love... you”
Mikey made a suspicious noise. “You sound like you’re lying.”
“I’m just proud of you, lil bro,” Gerard said, smiling way too hard. “Two o’clock, right?”
“...Right.”
“Cool. Can’t wait to see your little... law game.”
“It’s not a—”
Gerard hung up.
The line went dead.
Gerard slowly lowered the phone.
Frank groaned from the couch. “Did I just hear that correctly, or am I hallucinating caffeine again?”
Gerard flopped down onto the edge of the couch. “Mikey’s doing some kind of mock trial for school today.”
Frank’s eyes cracked open, bloodshot and wary. “And we’re going?”
“Yep.”
Frank stared. “Why?”
“Because Pete’s going.”
Frank sat bolt upright like someone had dropped a holy water ice cube down his back. “What!? He’s going to a public event ?”
“A courtroom,” Gerard confirmed. “Which, I assume, has at least thirty vulnerable necks in it.”
“Oh great. ” Frank groaned. “You think he knows he’s half-vampire yet?”
“I think he almost drank a barista this morning.”
Frank flopped backwards. “Okay. Okay. Fine. Fine. We go. We supervise. We blend in. No one gets bitten.”
Gerard eyed him. “You’re wearing my hoodie again.”
“Hmph, unlike you mortals, I don’t have much to wear- I apologize that this was the first thing I found in your lousy apartment last night”
“Try a blazer,” Gerard sighed, reaching into his closet to grab a pair.
Frank groaned into the cushion. “You’re asking me to go to a legal event. Do you want me to explode? ”
“You’re already dead.”
“Which makes it worse!”
Gerard got up and started digging through his closet for something that looked court-appropriate and not like he’d just rolled out of a haunted painting. “You better behave in there.”
“ Me ?”, Frank scoffed, “ What about Pete ? He’s the one with blood cravings and poor impulse control.”
Gerard paused. “You’re describing both of you.”
Frank rolled his eyes. “ Fine . I’ll be normal.”
“You don’t even know what that means.”
“I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Frank sat up fully now, rubbing his face and muttering. “Courtroom. Vampires. College kids. Sounds like hell.”
“Yeah,” Gerard muttered. “And we're in the front row.”
____________________________________________________
The college courthouse was exactly as Gerard expected: beige, echoey, and aggressively carpeted in a shade that could only be described as "Depressed Oatmeal."
Frank tugged at the collar of his—Gerard's—button-up, muttering like he was being waterboarded by cotton.
“I feel like I’m about to be cross-examined by someone’s Nana.”
“You said you could blend in,” Gerard whispered, glancing around.
“I didn’t say I’d thrive in daylight.”
“You’re undead, not allergic to academia.”
“Same thing.”
They slipped into the back row of the small courtroom—just a couple rows of stadium-style benches facing a mock judge’s bench, with two long tables set up for prosecution and defense. Half the audience looked like pre-law majors. The other half were texting under the guise of "taking notes."
And then there was Pete .
Pete turned as they sat down beside him and grinned, fangs just barely not showing.
“Yo!” he whispered. “Didn’t think you guys were coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Gerard said, sitting beside him like someone approaching a wild animal with a leash made of spaghetti. “Supportive older brother duties.”
Frank slid in on Pete’s other side, stiff as a corpse in a tuxedo. “Heyyyy, buddy. How you feelin’?”
Pete blinked at him. “Kinda twitchy. But like, in a cool, powerful way?”
Frank’s jaw tightened.
Pete went on, undeterred. “Also, I can hear everything . Like, everything Bro! It’s so rad- Like that girl over there just yapped about committing tax fraud. And someone three rows back has a hamster named Pesto.”
Gerard gave Frank a look that screamed: He’s gonna eat a freshman.
Frank returned one that said: Not if I eat him first.
The courtroom murmuring quieted as the professor walked in—an older man with zero patience and a tie that had definitely been through a divorce.
“All rise,” he said, and everyone stood as the “judge” entered—a student in a rented robe and the facial expression of someone who thought they were already nominated for a real federal position.
Pete leaned toward Gerard and whispered, “I think I could take him.”
“ Please don’t. ”
“Just saying. If it came down to it.”
“Why would it come down to it!? ”
“Quiet in the gallery,” the professor barked.
Frank smacked Pete’s knee under the bench.
Pete recoiled. “Ow!”
Frank glared. “You still feel pain. That’s good.”
Pete looked confused. “What?”
“Nothing…”
Meanwhile, Mikey stepped up to the defense table with his team, looking criminally sharp in a black blazer and a no-nonsense expression that could cut glass.
He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and said with full confidence:
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my client may have been holding a knife, but that does not make him guilty of murder in the first degree. To convict him of such a heinous crime for merely holding a mundane item, is extremely insatiable in the face of this conviction.”
Gerard’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god, he’s terrifying.”
Frank stared. “He’s like if your sarcasm went to Harvard.”
Pete beamed. “Isn’t he amazing?”
“Yes,” Frank muttered. “Very competent. Very...biteable.”
Gerard shot Frank a warning glance and raised and eyebrow
“ Supportive . I said supportive.”
Gerard leaned forward, whispering frantically. “Okay, listen, this is the plan. We stay here. We watch Pete. If he starts to hiss, levitate, or lunge for a throat, we tackle him. Quietly. Respectfully. Like courtroom ninjas.”
Frank blinked. “That’s your plan?”
“Unless you have silver handcuffs and a tranquilizer dart, yes. ”
“Do those even work on half-vamps?”
“I don’t know, Frank! You’re the expert!”
Pete was now softly humming Bela Lugosi’s Dead under his breath.
Frank pressed his face into his hands. “We’re so screwed.”
From the front of the room, Mikey took his place at the defense table. He looked terrifying in a fitted blazer, glasses glinting in the overhead lights, a folder of color-coded tabs at his elbow.
He nodded once, stood, and launched into his opening statement like a shark in a suit.
“Your Honor, members of the jury,” Mikey began, “today the prosecution will attempt to paint my client as a violent criminal. They’ll use weak evidence, subjective fear, and dramatic assumptions. But the truth is—”
Pete leaned toward Gerard. “He’s so hot when he does lawyer stuff.”
“Shhh!”
“Like, hot hot. Like, ‘step on me in court’ hot.”
Gerard hissed, “Do you want him to lose this case?!”
Pete waved him off. “Chill. Mikey looks fire right now. Like, honestly, who knew prelaw could be so sexy? Like- If Mikes was naked right now, this would probably make like a fire porno- I’d fuck him on the stand bro”
Gerard groaned in annoyance, face palming, as Frank glared at him, “Dude- can you not?”
Pete merely laughed before he suddenly leaned toward the person sitting next to him, an unsuspecting classmate of Mikey’s. She looked like the dictionary definition for ‘paint drying on the wall’.She gazed at Pete with a side glare, then focused back onto the trial without care, however Pete was determined.
“Yo, you ever think about how biting someone’s neck would be wild ?” Pete whispered loudly, eyes glinting weirdly. Then, in a sudden, awkward lean, Pete lunged toward the kid’s neck like he was going in for a bite.
The girl jumped back with a yelp, smacking Pete with her purse, “PERVERT!”
Gerard hissed, “Pete! What the hell?!”
Pete shrugged, grinning like it was all a joke. “Dude, I was just testing it. You know, for science.”
Mikey’s voice faltered mid-sentence.
“…and it is clear that the defendant…”
He glanced toward Pete, whose eyes were practically bugging out of his head
Pete grinned again and called out loud enough for a few to hear, “Mikey, you should stop and take a break sometime. Stress doesn’t suit you. You look way hotter when you smile pretty boy~!”
Gerard groaned, “Pete…shut the hell up…”
Frank muttered, “Oh, we’re fucked Gerard, he’s hella drunk”
Oblivious to Pete’s behavior, Mikey’s voice rang out confidently, steady and polished as he presented his case. “The evidence in this case is irrefutable. The defendant’s actions were reckless, negligent, and—”
But the courtroom’s usual quiet hum was shattered by a sudden, sharp movement a few rows back. Pete, slouched and clearly bored, suddenly sat straighter, his eyes flickering with a strange, wild energy. Without warning, a sharp crack filled the air, and in the blink of an eye, Pete’s lanky form convulsed.
Gerard’s heart jumped into his throat. Frank’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Before anyone could notice, Pete’s body shimmered, his arms and legs contorting unnaturally. In a flash, feathers burst from his skin, his fingers fused and stretched into leathery wings. His face elongated into a sharp, tiny snout. In less than a second, the frat boy everyone thought was just stoned and bored had transformed into a bat —a real, flapping bat.
Then he let out a large shriek
And that’s when everyone noticed
The courtroom fell into an unspoken, tense silence. Pre-law students sat frozen mid-note, eyes locked on the sudden chaos, but none dared utter a word. The solemn decorum of the court held their tongues, though every pair of eyes screamed questions.
Pete-bat swooped forward, wings flapping wildly, and latched onto the neck of the unsuspecting woman next to him—the one meticulously taking notes, now frozen in shock. Her sharp intake of breath was the only sound as Pete’s tiny fangs sank into her neck.
Gerard practically leapt from his seat, and Frank scrambled after him. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—” Gerard hissed, lunging toward the woman, trying to pull the bat off her.
Frank dove after him, fingers scrabbling at the flapping creature desperately clinging to the poor woman’s neck. The bat Pete squeaked in protest and dug in harder.
The woman gasped loudly, struggling to pry Pete off, her glasses askew, eyes wide with terror. The courtroom remained utterly still, watching with shock but not a single sound breaking the tension—pre-law students don’t scream; they study moments like this.
Gerard’s face was pale, panic etched deep. “Frank, help! Get him off her! This is insane!”
Frank snarled, gripping Pete’s tiny wings, “I’ve got him—stay still!! Stay the hell still you damn bat!”
They wrestled with the bat, wings flapping, tiny claws scratching, while the woman struggled, a mix of terror and confusion on her face.
The mock judge suddenly slammed his gavel down with authority, his face a mixture of frustration and disbelief. “This session is adjourned immediately . Security, clear the room, and someone call for medical assistance!”
The courtroom erupted into a flurry of whispers, the atmosphere thick with confusion and shock. Pre-law students began hastily gathering their things, murmuring theories and half-formed questions. In the background, paramedics rushed in to assist the woman who had been attacked, wheeling her out on a stretcher, her neck visibly bandaged.
Mikey was the first to storm over to Gerard, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment, pure anger…and heartbreak, “ Seriously , Gerard?! You brought that bat— Woobles —to my mock trial?!” Mikey’s voice was practically vibrating with disbelief and stinging with hurt, “Are you trying to sabotage me?”
Gerard and Frank quickly exchanged glances
Holy hell- Mikey thought that Bat-Pete was freaking ‘Woobles’…
Gerard blinked rapidly, looking at Mikey with wide eyes. His heart pounded as he frantically tried to play it off. “Uh… yeah , so… W-Woobles got a little… uh…out of hand.” He scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “He’s, uh, harmless. You know how bats are, right? Totally unpredictable little guys.”
Mikey shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Unpredictable is an understatement , Gerard. He nearly caused a disaster . Did you see the look on that lady’s face? What the hell were you thinking bringing a wild bat to court? Do you forget what he did to my boyfrined!? What if he bit someone!”
Frank flinched
Gerard was quick to smile, trying to act casual. “Oh, Mikey, come on. You’re overreacting. It’s just a bat. He’s, uh, not even real trouble, right?”
Mikey didn’t seem convinced. “Yeah? Then why the hell did I just watch him try to go full Dracula in the middle of a trial? You think that’s just normal bat behavior?” His eyes were wide with frustration, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed. He couldn’t believe he was dealing with this mess in front of all these people….and for the first time since Mikey was 12- the poor kid looked like he might cry.
Gerard rubbed his face, desperate to change the subject before Mikey started pressing too hard. “Listen, Mikey, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of erm.. Woobles . Just… don’t stress, alright? It’s fine. Nothing happened.”
Mikey let out a groan, but before he could say anything else, a sudden flutter of wings interrupted them.
Pete, still in bat form, zipped toward Mikey and landed on his shoulder with a soft, confused chirp. Mikey flinched, staring at the bat now nestled against him like it was trying to cuddle.
Mikey swatted at it. “Woobles, stop it!” He waved his hand in front of his face, clearly annoyed, but trying to keep his composure in front of his classmates. “This is not the time for your weird bat affection, alright?”
Gerard was panicking now. He gave Mikey an exasperated look, trying to shove the bat away before things got even weirder. “Mikey, it’s… It’s just a bat! He’s, uh, probably just a little shaken up from the whole, uh, courtroom chaos. You know how bats are— super sensitive.”
Mikey, rubbing his temples, sighed loudly. “I don’t know what kind of weird, bat-therapy sessions you’ve been running, Gerard, but I’m done with this. You better figure out your pet situation, ‘cause I am so not explaining this to anyone.”
Before Gerard could respond, Bat-Pete flapped over to Mikey’s hair and tried to nuzzle in again, his little bat face pressing affectionately into Mikey’s neck.
Mikey swatted him away again, frustrated. “Cut it out you rodent! I swear to God, I’m going to lose my mind.”
Gerard’s heart dropped into his stomach. Mikey was getting close to the truth, and Gerard knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to explain everything. “Okay, Mikey. I get it. I’ll keep him out of your hair for the rest of the day. Sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”
Mikey, still clearly overwhelmed, just groaned and turned to leave, muttering under his breath. “Just… just keep your pet bat the hell away from me, alright?”
Gerard stood there, frozen for a moment, the weight of the situation sinking in. He couldn’t tell Mikey the truth—not yet. But the clock was ticking, and soon, there wouldn’t be a way to avoid the truth, Mikey stormed out, textbooks in hand, unknowingly walking away from his poor little vampire boyfriend.
Pete let out a small, almost mournful squeak, then flapped his wings dramatically, trying to follow Mikey once more. This time, he landed on the floor, making a soft plop sound that echoed through the hallway. He looked up at Mikey with what could only be described as a mixture of yearning and defeat.
___________________________________________________________________
The hallway of the courthouse was oddly quiet, save for the soft sound of Pete’s wings flapping half-heartedly as Gerard and Frank maneuvered him awkwardly down the steps. They had to be careful. Pete— the bat —wasn’t exactly in a good state. He was whimpering, whining, and the way his little bat eyes looked up at Gerard and Frank, well, it wasn’t a good sign.
"Okay, I swear, if you try to bite anyone else..." Gerard muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the little bat clutched carefully in his hand.
Pete made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whiny toddler, his wings twitching in a way that suggested he was about to throw a tantrum.
“Look, you’re fine. You just... you gotta calm down , alright?" Gerard said, voice soothing but strained. He could feel the tiny, trembling body in his palm, the poor thing clearly confused, maybe even a little scared.
Frank was walking a few paces behind them, his hand running through his hair. “I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe Pete is a fucking bat now.”
“Yeah,” Gerard huffed. “But right now, I’m more concerned about getting him back to the apartment without Mikey noticing that I’ve smuggled ‘Woobles” back in here."
Frank smirked, “Horrible name, might I add. So glad you don’t have to call me that anymore”
Gerard sighed, “Oh come on, I thought it was cute”
Frank just laughed
The air around them felt thick with awkward tension as Gerard shifted the bat in his hand, trying to comfort Pete. His tiny form was practically vibrating with a combination of agitation and confusion. Every few seconds, Pete would let out a soft, drawn-out “whiiiine” that made it sound like he was really trying to say something, but couldn’t.
Gerard’s studio apartment was a chaotic mess of canvases, old coffee mugs, tangled fairy lights, and shelves stacked with half-finished projects and questionable taxidermy. The walls were covered in art—some finished, some smeared and angry—and the air smelled faintly of paint thinner and cinnamon incense.
Frank shut the door behind them with a soft click, and the room fell into an uneasy silence. Outside, the city was humming, but in here, it felt like time had slowed down.
Gerard stood in the center of the room, holding the small, trembling bat in both hands like he was carrying a holy relic. Pete gave a pitiful squeak, then fluttered suddenly from Gerard’s palms and zipped clumsily through the air.
“Pete—! Dude, come on, you’re not stable yet!” Frank said, flinching as the bat dive-bombed past a hanging fern and narrowly avoided a precarious stack of paintbrush jars.
But Pete didn’t care.
He flew directly toward Gerard’s crowded desk, perched right above the cracked windowsill. A dozen photos were tacked haphazardly to the corkboard above it — old Polaroids, paint-stained sketches, clippings from horror zines — but Pete zeroed in on one specific picture.
A photo of Mikey.
It was from a few months ago. Mikey was standing outside a late-night diner, scowling at the camera, holding a milkshake in one hand and flipping Gerard off with the other. His hoodie was too big. His glasses were crooked. He looked like a pissed-off cryptid in the middle of a caffeine crash.
Pete the bat landed gently on the frame’s edge and just... stared at it.
Then, slowly, heartbreakingly, he let out the saddest, most melodramatic little bat whine either of them had ever heard.
“Eeeeeeeehhhh…”
Gerard winced. “Oh God.”
Pete leaned closer to the photo, his little bat face nuzzling the glass like a tragic Victorian widow. His ears drooped, his wings sagged, and he let out another long, soft squeak of despair.
“Eeeeeeeehhhhhhh…”
“Oh no,” Frank said, slowly sitting down on the arm of Gerard’s paint-splattered couch. “He’s lovesick.”
“He’s Mikey -sick,” Gerard muttered, rubbing a hand down his face, “Oh, this is gonna be hell ”
Pete started pacing along the picture frame like a mourning widow at a cemetery wall. Every few steps, he paused to stare at Mikey’s face again, letting out an increasingly dramatic series of whines that sounded like the musical number of a very sad bat opera.
“EeeeehhhhhHHHHhhhHh…”
Pete flopped dramatically onto his side on the shelf, wings spread like he was fainting at the sight of his beloved. He looked utterly inconsolable. His tiny chest rose and fell with exasperated sighs that, somehow, sounded like “babe…” if you squinted.
Gerard walked over and gently tried to scoop him back up. “Alright, Shakespeare. Time to stop sulking”
But Pete rolled to the other side and gave a tiny hiss —not scary, more like a squeaky door hinge. He wanted to stay right there, next to Mikey’s stupid, pixelated milkshake face.
“I’m going to lose my mind,” Gerard muttered. “How are we supposed to deal with this? He's a bat. A vampire. A vampire bat. Who’s emotionally spiraling over a photo of my brother .”
Frank leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You know, if I had a nickel for every time I’ve had to keep a supernatural secret from a Way brother, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice.”
Gerard shot him a look.
Pete whined louder.
“Okay, we need a plan,” Gerard said. “Because he’s clearly unstable. He’s heartbroken. He’s hungry. And also? He might explode into bat goo if we don’t figure out what the hell is going on with his transformation.”
Pete gave a tiny hiccup of a sob-squeak and flopped facedown against the photo frame, like he was trying to become one with it.
Frank stood and walked over. “Should we, like, cover it up? Get him away from the Mikey shrine?”
Gerard hesitated. “I mean… we could. Or we let him pine until he passes out from dramatic exhaustion.”
Pete gave another sigh.
“Okay, yep. That’s what we’re doing,” Gerard said, turning toward the kitchenette. “I’m making tea. Maybe bourbon. You figure out what we feed a sad, semi-feral bat boyfriend.”
Frank rolled his eyes, “Incase you forgot, the only thing we can eat is blood”
“ Awesome ,” Gerard called over his shoulder. “If you’re such an old ancient vampire, then go fetch some and feed him”
Behind them, Pete gave one final, dramatic whine at the picture and curled up next to it—tiny wings wrapped around himself like a blanket, his little nose pressed to Mikey’s face.
He missed his boyfriend.
And he had no idea he’d just tried to eat someone in front of thirty pre-law students.
Notes:
I had a lot of time to write today, so I've gifted y'all two chapters today 🖤 Hope you enjoyed!
((for everyone who's waiting for some good old Frerard romance...dw, I have something that's on it's way ;) ))
Chapter 6: We Fuck At Dusk and Fly At Dawn
Summary:
A horny vampire, and a curious artist, what’s the worse that could happen?
A lot apparently
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The studio held its breath.
Moonlight stretched across the paint-stained floors, casting long, dreamy shadows over yarn baskets and unfinished sketches. The place smelled like Gerard—coffee, linseed oil, old paper, and sleep. It made Frank’s chest feel tight in a way he didn’t have language for.
He wasn’t snooping.
Okay, maybe he was snooping a little.
But only because things had been different since he revealed himself to Gerard. He thought it would be a moment to cherish, not having to be reduced to the size of a pathetic bat . No more sweaters. No more casual “C’mere, Woobles” while Gerard doodled his silhouette on the couch. He never wanted to go through that humiliating experience again….
He swore he didn’t care
Until now.
He spotted it in the basket—barely visible under a tangle of deep blue yarn. A small, handmade collar. Soft black leather. Crafted carefully by a loving artist hand. The silver tag caught the moon light as he reached for it, a single named etched on it’s front-
‘Woobles’
His throat tightened as he sucked in a deep breath. He had never seen it before, had no idea that Gerard had been crafting such a high quality gift for him. Back when he was a bat- he recalled Gerard saying he’d only keep Frank around until he healed…but seeing this collar? That meant something- that’s a universal sign of ownership.
He picked it up. It was so small. Not insulting-small, not condescending. Just right. For him. For the creature Gerard thought he was. He remembered that mortal artist taking his measurements numerous times over the past few weeks, but he had chalked it down to useless sweaters and passion projects.
Not this
And for a moment, Frank just… stood there. In the dark of the studio apartment, staring at the collar that lie dormant in his hands. He couldn’t explain it- didn’t understand it when he suddenly felt a deep surge of guilt enter his veins. This mortal man had cared for him, and all he did in return was mock him, screw up his relationship with his brother, and turned Pete into a half-vampire. Yet despite all of it- Gerard had made this, for him , for Woobles …
He sucked in a deep breath, until finally he shifted
In a blur of movement and mist, his body condensed, folded inward, became small again. Wings replaced arms. Tiny ears flicked forward. And just like that, he was back in the form Gerard had first loved—small, sharp, dark-eyed. A bat again.
He gripped the collar gently between his sharp teeth, the silver clicking against his pearly whites as he took flight.
The apartment was deathly quiet, only the hum of the fridge and the distant rumble of a passing bus below. Frank flew low, weaving through doorways until he reached Gerard’s bedroom.
The artist lay tangled in his blankets, breathing softly. One hand hung off the bed. The other curled under his cheek. His dark curls were a soft mess against the silk pillow.
Frank landed with the faintest tap on the nightstand, dropping the leather collar onto the hardwood with a soft clink . He then waddled—across the nightstand and nudged Gerard’s hand with his head.
Gerard stirred, eyes fluttering open in a dazed confusion, he let out a tired moan
His gaze fell to the collar. Then the bat. Then the collar again.
Frank flapped his wings once. Then turned in a neat little circle. And sat.
Gerard blinked. “…You brought it to me?”
Frank stared at him. Then, slowly, with extreme bat-dignity, he nudged the collar toward Gerard again.
And then he did something deeply humiliating: he squeaked. A soft, clear little note.
Not Look at this.
Not Remember this.
But Put it on me.
Gerard blinked at him, wide-eyed, sitting up slowly. “You want to wear it?”
Frank turned his face away, as if pretending not to hear—but his ears twitched. He gave the collar another nudge.
Gerard picked it up like it was made of glass. “Frank…”
Frank crawled forward and stood still.
Completely still.
Gerard’s fingers were slow and careful. He gently slipped the collar around the bat’s neck, fastening it with a practiced motion. It sat snugly, comfortably—just under the fur, the silver tag resting over Frank’s chest.
Frank squeaked once. Low. Almost embarrassed.
“You’re ridiculous,” Gerard whispered, smiling at the small and sweet bat he had learned to care for with all of his heart.
Frank nuzzled into the edge of Gerard’s palm for exactly one second, then flopped sideways onto the pillow like it hadn’t meant anything at all.
But Gerard saw the way he tucked his head in. The way his wings folded, neat and small. The way his chest rose and fell like he’d finally stopped holding something in.
Gerard laid back down beside him, his heart fluttering as he softly drifted to sleep
Frank woke up hours later on the bed, with moonlight knifing through the edges of the blackout curtains and a distinctly foreign sensation around his neck.
What was that?
He groaned, stretching a bit as his hand went instinctively to the source—something soft, snug, unfamiliar .
His fingers brushed leather.
Oh fuck
The collar.
He sat bolt upright.
And to his utter humiliation, the silver tag clinked softly as he moved. He couldn’t believe it- he had actually let- no begged that mortal artist to put a pet collar on him. What the hell was he thinking? How utterly disgraceful and humiliating…
“Oh, you idiot, ” he hissed to himself.
He was in his full vampire form again—human-shaped, pale, despite the fact that he was nude, he looked exactly the way he was the night prior save for one very specific, very humiliating difference: a tiny, handmade leather collar around his neck.
Tag facing forward.
“Woobles.”
He dropped his face into both hands.
He remembered everything : the bat form, flying with the collar, nudging Gerard awake, asking—no, pleading —with his eyes to be collared like some lost pet. And Gerard, sleepy and soft-eyed, had just done it. No teasing. No laughter. Just warmth.
The worst part? Frank hadn’t wanted to take it off. Even now, our of his bat form, his fingers hovered around the buckle… but didn’t undo it.
Beside him, Gerard yawned at the commotion Still in pajama pants and a paint-stained hoodie, Hair an absolute crime as moonlight spilled upon his soft features, but he froze when he saw Frank.
The painfully handsome vampire looked up, collar gleaming in the light.
They stared at each other.
Gerard blinked. “...You kept it on.”
Frank diverted his eyes, trying to deflect the painfully accurate accusation, “I was…sleep-flying.”
Gerard raised an eyebrow, “mhm, and I’m sure you were ‘sleep begging’ tonight as well?”
Frank stood up abruptly. “I am not discussing my sleep habits with someone who wears socks with flamingos on them.”
“You’re deflecting,” Gerard said, crossing the room and plopping down in the armchair. He was grinning now.
Frank scowled and folded his arms across his chest. “It would’ve been rude to take it off. It was a gift. Of… emotional significance.”
“So you like it,” Gerard said, a little too softly.
Frank didn’t answer.
Instead, he turned his head slightly, exposing the collar—just enough.
Gerard blinked.
Frank cleared his throat. “I didn’t think you still… saw me that way.”
“What way?”
Frank gestured vaguely. “The—sweater way. The bat-in-a-teacup way. The Woobles way.”
Gerard leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You think because you’re not what I expected, that I don’t still care?”
Frank hesitated.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m not a good… thing. To keep.”
Gerard’s expression softened. “ Frank .”
“I’m centuries old,” Frank said, pacing now. “I drink blood. I can turn into mist. I’ve been banned from multiple museums for hissing at security guards. You—” He pointed at Gerard. “—make art out of nothing. You drink oat milk. You once kissed a pigeon on the head and called it ‘buddy.’ We’re— different .”
Gerard sighed, crossing the room with elegance towards the ancient vampire,and very gently reached out to touch the tag on Frank’s collar.
“Maybe,” he said quietly, “I like different.”
Frank’s face flushed, and his hands began to feel jittery- what the hell was this feeling? And why the hell did he like it!?
His voice came out barely above a shaky whisper. “You’re making it very difficult to keep pretending I don’t like you.”
Gerard’s smile tilted. “ Good .”
Frank scoffed, and directed his eyes towards a different direction. His arms folded and his eyes narrowed. But he didn’t take the collar off.
And Gerard didn’t ask him to.
Frank's fingers traced the smooth leather of the collar, the sensation both foreign and intensely arousing. He could feel the weight of Gerard's gaze on him, hungry and unyielding. The room seemed to hold its breath, charged with anticipation.
Gerard moved closer, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "You know, I've always thought there was something irresistibly alluring about you, Frank. The way you move, the way you look at the world—it's like you're seeing something no one else can."
Frank's eyes flickered to Gerard's, a mix of vulnerability and defiance. "You make it sound like I'm some kind of display in an art show."
Gerard chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down Frank's spine. "Ah, but art is in everything, no? That’s the beauty of life”
Frank stood, the collar glinting in the soft morning light. He stepped closer to Gerard, his voice barely a whisper. "Ha…’beauty of life’ I’m a 417 undead vampire Gerard, not one of your masterpieces”
Gerard's eyes never left Frank's, his expression open and inviting. "Hmm~ but I see you as the pinnacle of beauty nonetheless, there’s so much to explore when it comes to you, so many things I want to understand, so many things I want to do…”
Frank's heart raced as he reached out, his fingers brushing against Gerard's cheek. The touch was electric, a spark that ignited something primal within him. "You might regret that, you know. I'm not exactly... gentle."
Gerard leaned into the touch, his eyes never leaving Frank's. "I've never been one for gentle, Frank. And neither are you."
Frank's breath hitched as Gerard's hand found his, fingers intertwining in a gesture that felt both intimate and dominant. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of shared desire.
"Maybe," Frank whispered, his voice thick with need, "maybe we can figure this out together. The bat, the vampire, the man—all of it."
Gerard smiled, a slow, predatory curve of his lips. "I think so too."
In that moment, with the collar around his neck and Gerard's hand in his, Frank felt a sense of belonging he had never known before. The world outside could wait; for now, there was only this, only them. And it was enough. More than enough.
Gerard's fingers traced the edge of the collar, sending shivers down Frank's spine. "You look so good wearing this, Frankie. Like you were made for it."
Frank's eyes fluttered closed at the use of the nickname, Gerard's touch became more insistent, more possessive. "Fuck…you mortals and your strange ways- what are you doing to me?"
Gerard's voice was a low growl in his ear. "I'm claiming you, Frank. Every part of you. The bat, the vampire, the man. You're mine ."
Frank's body responded to the dominance in Gerard's voice, a shiver of anticipation running through him. "Y-Yes," he breathed. "I'm yours."
Gerard's hands roamed over Frank's body, exploring every curve and plane. The collar felt like a brand, a mark of ownership that Frank wore with pride. He arched into Gerard's touch, a soft moan escaping his lips.
"Tell me what you want, Frank~," Gerard murmured, his breath hot against Frank's neck. "Tell me how you want me to claim you."
Frank's eyes met Gerard's, dark with desire, but cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He was Frank Iero- The Frank Iero, Jersey’s oldest, and most feared vampire, and here he was- emotional mush melted at the firm and gentle touch of a mortal, “I-I…I want you to….to…”
Gerard's eyes flashed with hunger, and he pressed Frank back against the wall, his body hard and demanding. "Mmmm~ want me to what baby? Use your words”
Words? HA! Fuck that
Frank's hands fisted in Gerard's hair, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss. The collar dug into his skin, a constant reminder of his submission, his desire. He moaned into Gerard's mouth, his body aching with need.
Gerard's hands roamed lower, unbuttoning Frank's pants, his touch confident and sure. "I'm going to make you feel so good , Frank. I'm going to make you mine in every way possible."
Frank's head fell back against the wall, his eyes closed in ecstasy as Gerard's fingers found him, teasing and stroking. "Y-Yes, Gerard… Please , oh fuck I need you~"
Gerard's eyes darkened with lust, and he spun Frank around, pressing him face-first against the wall. His hands roamed over Frank's back, tracing the lines of his muscles before gripping his hips tightly. "Is this what you want, Frank? To be taken like this?" He swatted his ass playfully, causing Frank to let out a startled yelp
Frank's breath hitched as he felt Gerard's hardness press against him. "Y-Yes~ fuck ~ yes. I want you to use me, to claim me."
Gerard's teeth grazed Frank's neck, sending shivers down his spine. "You're so beautiful like this, Frank. So perfect. My perfect pet."
Frank moaned, pushing back against Gerard, begging for more. " Please , Gerard. I need you inside me."
Gerard's hands trembled slightly as he undid his own pants, his voice a low growl. "You're mine, Frank. Every part of you. And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."
With a swift, sure movement, Gerard entered him, filling him completely. Frank cried out, a mix of pleasure and pain, his body stretching to accommodate Gerard's size. " Gerard ... oh God , Gerard..."
Gerard began to move, his hips thrusting against Frank's, the collar clinking softly with each motion. " Fuck~ you feel so good , Frank…so tight, so fucking perfect~."
Frank's hands fisted against the wall, his body meeting Gerard's thrusts with equal fervor. The collar felt like a brand, a mark of ownership that he wore with pride. "Harder,~ Gerard…p-please, fuck- I need it harder."
Gerard's fingers traced the edge of the collar, sending shivers down Frank's spine. "You look so good wearing this, Frank. Like you were made for it."
Frank's body trembled with lust for the strange mortal, his asshole burning from being forced to stretch in holy ways. He turned to face Gerard, his fingers tracing the collar around his neck, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "You know, Gerard, I think I want to explore this a bit further."
Gerard's eyebrows raised, a mixture of surprise and intrigue. "Oh, really? And what exactly did you have in mind, my little bat?"
Frank's smile turned predatory. "I-I want you to take control, Gerard” Frank moaned bashfully, “Completely…. fuck - I just want to be your pet, your fucking slutty little plaything. I want you to use me, to tease me, to push me to my fucking immortal limits~”
Gerard's eyes darkened with lust, his voice a low growl. "You want to play, Frankie? You want to see how far I can push you?"
Frank nodded, his breath already coming faster. "Y-Yes. Please~ fuck Gerard. I need it. I need you ."
Gerard's hands gripped Frank's hips, pulling him close. "Then you'll address me as 'Master' from now on. Understood pup?"
Frank's eyes fluttered closed, a shiver of anticipation running through him. "Yes, Master."
Gerard pulled out of Frank, his little whine of protest cut short as the mortal’s lips captured Frank's in a deep, demanding kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of Frank's mouth. When he pulled away, his eyes were gleaming with dominance. "Mmm~ Good boy Frankie~ Now, get on your knees."
Frank obeyed without hesitation, dropping to his knees in front of Gerard. He looked up at him, his eyes filled with desire and submission. "Like this, Master?"
Gerard's hand cupped Frank's cheek, his thumb brushing over Frank's lips. "Perfect. Now, why don’t you be a good little vampire and show me how much you want this- Show me how much you want me ."
Frank's lips parted, his tongue darting out to lick Gerard's tip. He took it into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around it, swiping up drops of precum that funnels into his desperate mouth. his eyes never leaving the wonder of a man that was Gerard. The mortal’s breath hitched, his grip on Frank's face tightening.
" F-Fuck ~ Frank," Gerard growled. "You're so good at this. So perfect."
Frank pulled back, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I aim to please, Master. Always."
Gerard's other hand fisted in Frank's hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat. "You do, don't you? You like being a good boy for your Master~?”
Frank's body arched into the touch, a soft moan escaping his lips. "Y-Yes…fuck~ Please, Master. I need more. I need you to use me."
Gerard's free hand roamed over Frank's body, teasing and torturing him with light touches and firm grips. "You want me to use you, Frank? You want me to make you beg? You want me to fuck your dirty little mouth?”
Frank nodded, his body trembling with need, his face flushed as he nodded and let out a pathetic little squeak in obedience.
Gerard's smile was slow and predatory. "Then beg , Frank. Beg for me to use you. Beg for me to claim you."
Frank's voice was a desperate plea, his body aching with desire. "P-Please, Master. Use me. Claim me. Make me yours in every way possible J-Just use me fuck -“
Gerard's eyes flashed with hunger, and he pulled Frank to his feet, spinning him around and pressing him face-first against the wall. His hands roamed over Frank's body, exploring every curve and plane, teasing and torturing him with light touches and firm grips.
"You're so beautiful like this, Frank," Gerard murmured, his breath hot against Frank's neck. "So perfect . My perfect pet."
Frank's eyes widened in shock at the sudden change in position, either this man couldn’t make up his mind, or he couldn’t get enough of teasing Frank- or perhaps, it was like what Gerard had said- he really was trying to get to know every part of Frank.
Gerard purred in Franks ear, nibbling on it, “mmm~ I think I prefer you like this Frankie~ I can feel how much you yearn for me”
Frank let out a soft groan at the contact, shuddering in pleasure as Gerard finally realigned himself and entered Frank again, the whole length of his girthy cock slowly thrusting into Franks’s tight little fuckable submissive asshole.
To Frank’s surprise and lustful enjoyment, Gerard yanked his collar, the little silver tag jingling and grazing Frank’s neck for every heated thrust Gerard made, Frank moaned his name again and again like a prayer
He had never thought he’d be in this position- he was Frank Iero after all- the Frank Iero- New Jersey’s most dangerous vampire, and here he was- allowing himself to be fucked like a horny bat against the wall of some freelance artist. Being collared- begging for it, all of it….
And when Gerard started jerking Frank off as well? He couldn’t take the pleasure anymore- he couldn’t help it, all of his nerves ignited into a type of uncontrolled passion Frank had never experienced before- his eyes shot red, and before he knew it, before he could even help himself, he suddenly snapped, his fangs lunching towards Gerard’s shoulders in an attempt to sink his teeth in, causing the startled mortal to pull away from the lustful vamp entirely.
Fuck
Frank stood there, the height of his excitement suddenly wearing off as he began to realize what he had almost done….Gerard stared at Frank, his eyes boring into his soul, and in the first time since Frank met him- the artist seemed to be…
Afraid
Frank could feel the awkwardness creep into his skin, suddenly, he felt extremely vulnerable being so bare, his erection slowly and painfully softening as Gerard continued to not say a word
What the hell was he even doing? He should have never done this- he should have never been here in the first place. He had turned Pete into a vampire, he had second handily ruined Mikey’s mock court trial, and now what? He was fucking with a human and had almost bit him? He was getting out of hand- Mikey was right, Ray was right, everybody was right- he couldn’t control himself.
He was a danger to human society
Shame clawed up Frank’s throat, bitter and choking, hotter than any thirst he’d ever known. His hands trembled as he wiped at his mouth, even though there was no blood—just the ghost of what almost was. God , he hated himself. Hated how close he’d come, how easy it had been to forget who he was the second Gerard let his guard down. The air felt too thick, too bright, and he couldn’t stand to be seen like this—full vamp-, half-lust, all wrong….
“I’m sorry” he choked, biting back tears as he made up his mind- he wasn’t going to stay here any longer. With the collar still painfully snug around him, his bones cracked as the change overtook him, wings unfurling where arms had been, his body shrinking, warping, escaping. A shiver of black feathers in the moonlight, and then he was gone, a silent shadow flung into the sky, desperate to outrun what he’d nearly done.
And as the night swallowed him whole, only one truth echoed louder than the wind in his wings, the one thing he should have learned from losing Jamia long ago-
Monsters don’t get to fall in love.
Notes:
Finally updated!! Hope you guys enjoyed!! 🖤 (sorry for ruining their perfect moment 💔)
Chapter 7: Where Do I Belong
Summary:
Frank flies frantically back to his mansion with Ray, but the elder vampire doesn't seem to be to amused with the mess Frank has created, and now, he must face the consequences.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Frank groaned on his flight back to the mansion, his wings flapping anxiously, loaded with shame and guilt as he could see the first signs of dawn descend apon the Jersey manor, the low light slightly stinging his immortal skin.
Last night has been a mistake
A god awful, gut wrenching mistake.
It wasn’t that Frank didn’t have romantic intentions with Gerard- he had been knowingly stalking the mortal artist for quite some time, but he hadn’t expected their encounter to be so…rushed, so sexual…
He should have put a stop to it the moment Gerard began to get… “ kinky” as humans put it- or maybe, he should have brought the show to a halt the moment Gerard had kissed him senseless, or perhaps , he should have shut it down the moment Gerard agreed to put that stupidly thoughtful leather collar on him.
Regardless of when it should have stopped- it should have never happened in the first place. Frank knew better, in all his 417 years and endless scolding at the hands of Ray, he should have known not to medal with romance and mortals.
But he just couldn’t help himself.
And because he couldn’t help himself, now Pete was a half vampire, the vampire government was after all of them, and he had just sexually confused a freelance artist
Yeah, great going Frank
The vampire sulked as he flew into an open medieval window. Shifting back into his human form and snagging his beloved outfit that consisted of a wait coat and cape. He hadn’t been dressed in typical vampire attire in practically a month, so he felt rather put together when he was finally dressed in his formal wear
Frank sighed, tugging at the collar at his neck. Stupid, stupid stupid - the whole thing was so fucking stupid, he aggressively tossed the collar towards the door way, he should have never got injured in that on that damn window sill, he should have never met Gerard, he should have never -
“Frank…what’s this?”
Fuck
And there he was, Ray, standing in the doorway with the “Woobles collar” clutched in his hands, the elder vampire examining it like a mad scientist.
“Ray I….”
“Frank what the HELL is this…!?”
“It’s just…It’s nothing” Frank choked out in embarrassment, he had just ran away from Gerard, the last thing he needed was a fight with Ray
“So you go missing for practically a month ” Ray scowled, pacing the room,”and you tell me this pet collar you yanked off yourself means nothing !?”
“Ray I just….it’s not my fault I-“
“Who was it Frank? Was it that mortal artist? What was his name, Gerald ?”
“Gerard…! It’s Gerard ! And yes …it was him…” Frank groaned in embarrassment, hiding his flushed face in his palms
“Are you fucking kidding me Frank” Ray sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head in severe disappointment. You know what I told you about humans, about the danger- I thought you had learned your lesson- did Jamia’s death mean nothing to you!?
Jamia….
Fuck- that one cut deep
“S-Shut up!” Frank seethed through tears, “don’t talk about her like that…! You know I never wanted her to fucking die Ray!!!”
Ray regretted his words the moment he said them, staring at Frank with a look of sorrow and pity, he crossed the room and put a hand on his best friends shoulders, “I…I know Frank, I know…I’m sorry”
Frank just cried- he ugly cried, and he hated that he was crying. He didn’t like crying- crying was for the weak, crying was for mortals, but today? He was sobbing less like a vampire and more like a banshee
“It’s stupid? Alright!? It’s fucking stupid- I should have never fell for that damn mortal- and guess what, I did Ray. I fucking did. You want me to tell you what happened?”, Frank laughed bitterly, snatching the collar out of Ray’s hand, “you want me to tell you what this is? Then fine- I’ll tell you”
“Frank-“
“I was stalking that damn artist,I transformed into a bat, got injured on his window pane and he took me in for a bit, sweet and all, yeah yeah- he named me ‘Woobles’ or whatever the fuck- and took care of me. Anyways, his fucking younger brother who’s a strict ass lawyer has a burnout of a boyfriend and I…I….” Frank trailed off, suddenly losing his spark as he realized the direction he was about to steer their entire conversation…..
“‘You’ what Frank?” Ray raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“I…I accidentally turned that burnout into a half vampire- and his boyfriend doesn’t know and…fuck- Gerard found out I was a vampire and we had sex-“
Ray’s eyes widened and his mouth practically dropped to the floor, “WOAH- WOAH - hold on- hold the fuck up, what the HELL do you mean you turned a human into a vampire !? And you had fucking sex with one too?! What the hell is wrong with you Frank Iero!?” Ray snapped, scolding Frank like an annoyed mother
“I didn’t…I wasn’t….thinking straight I….” Frank sighed in defeat, he really had no excuse. He had done what he had done, and there was no turning back now.
“The vampire government already has you on a fucking watch list after the shit that went down last time, and you’re telling me you screwed up not one, but two humans?”
“Well uh, technically I was the one getting screwed by a human-“ Frank half smirked at his terrible joke, “and uh…I just bit the other one”
“This isn’t fucking funny Frank”
“I know”
…
They stood there in awkward silence as Ray paced the room, taking in a deep breath, “have they….have they been informed about this?”
Frank shifted his gaze, “…I got one of the coins from their little spies- so it’s safe to assume the government knows”
Without another word, Ray flung open their old mansion cabinet, the delicate wood nearly flying off its hinges as Ray dragged out a suitcase and began filling it with the few items they owned, in the rush, he threw Frank a black sweatshirt and some jeans
“Woah, woah- Ray calm down- what the hell are you doing?” Frank asked in a bit of panic, he had never seen Ray act like this before
“I don’t want you to blame this on me. This was your own damn fault, you’re older, you know better than that”
“Answer my question Ray, dammit!”
“We’re leaving Frank!” Ray blurted out exasperated, “we’re leaving Jersey, because now that the government is on to us, we’re fucked over! We’ll fly out to California tomorrow”
Frank panicked, rushing over to Ray and pulling things out of their suitcase, “what!? Fuck no. We’re not leaving Ray”
“We are leaving”
“We’re not !!! We can’t!! I love it in Jersey! I’ve been here half of my life!!!”
“245 years isn’t a lot Frank, you’ll be fine, didn’t you live in England for another 200?”
“Does it matter!?” Frank whined, “this is my life now- I live here ”
“Well not anymore because you fucked it up” Ray jammed a finger into Frank’s chest, “which sucks, because I actually liked this place for once”
“We can’t just leave Ray..! Fuck- I know I fucked up alright? But I can’t just leave Gerard because-“
“Because you love him?” Ray deadpanned
“ No fuckass! Because I left him there with Pete, who, mind you, is in the middle of transforming into a fucking vampire and could bite Gerard at any given moment! Plus- Mikey doesn’t even know, and the vampire government they-“
“Again, it’s too late now Frank. It’s not our problem, you did that to them, you made those choices, now you have to live with it”
“Live with it…? Live with it!? Ray! I have to fucking solve it! I made those problems, and I’m the only one who can fix it!” Frank barked, taking a step closer with a wild and determined look in his eyes. He wasn’t baking down, not from Ray, not yet.
“Well here’s a fucking newsflash Frank! You can’t fix it! Pete’s going to turn into a vampire, and because of what you did, Gerard is probably going to fucking die, just like Jamia did. He’s going to die and there’s nothing you can do about it. I told you to lay low, I told you not to piss off the vampire government but you didn’t listen, did you? You just had to get involved in mortal’s lives again, when will you fucking learn Frank? When will enough be enough ?”
Frank stood their shaking, he could feel his body, not his bones, not his ice cold heart, nothing…everythiing just felt numb and void, his body gone unsupported by its own being, as his vision began to blur violently with tears, he couldn’t find the words to respond to Ray, get he could still hear her shouting in the distance….could still see the fire deeply engraved into his mind, the same fire that ate away her flesh in front of his very eyes…
Frank….help me!
Frank please…! D-Don’t leave me here….! You can’t….!
Frank…!
FRANK…!
FRANK!!!!
“Frank!” Ray shook his shoulders desperately, looking into the empty and traumatized eyes of his best friend slowly coming back into focus, “Frank…! Frank! Can you hear me?”
“Y-Yeah…I can…I”, he coughed, shaking his head, “I’m sorry I…fuck…Ray- I don’t feel so well”
Ray frowned, pulling Frank into a hug, “I’m sorry Frank…I didn’t mean to yell at you I’m just…I’m just anxious, that’s all- I don’t want the same thing to happen again that happened last time, I don’t want them to find you”
“They won’t….they won’t find me Ray, I promise….” Frank nodded as his resolve hardened. He was going to leave this place….but not in the fashion Ray expected him too.
“Are you ready to get going?” Ray smiled bittersweetly
“I am….” he took a few steps back, putting the wobbles collar around his neck and clicking it into place, the once derogatory collar now feeling extremely empowering to his resolve
“I know where I need to go now, I’m sorry Ray”
And then, he took flight.
Notes:
So Sorry that it took so long to update! I've been really busy as of late! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Sorry if it's a bit short, but it's an important set up for what's to come! As always, comments are appricated🖤🦇
(Also, please let me know if you'd like me to feature more Frerard moments, or more Petekey moments as the plot thickens! I'd love to tailor the story to feature the moments you guys like the most 🖤)
Chapter 8: Ashes and Embers
Summary:
Gerard tries to inform Mikey on the truth about Pete, but things slowly escalate out of hand...
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The apartment smelled like paint thinner, cheap coffee, and anxiety. Gerard was pacing in the living room in his paint-splattered jeans and worn hoodie, hair tied back in a messy bun that suggested he hadn’t slept in at least two days.
Perched upside down from the curtain rod was a small black bat, its beady eyes following Gerard's every move. Occasionally, it made a pitiful squeaking sound that vaguely resembled the word "Miiikeyyyy..." in pitiful bat “eeehhhh”’s dealing with human Pete? A nightmare. Dealing with bat Pete without Frank to help guide him through it? Hell
Across from him, Mikey stood at the counter, his first period law book stacked neatly on top of one another as he stared down his brother sharply in his debate-team blazer despite being home from class with his arms crossed and jaw clenched.
“This is insane,” Mikey said flatly. “You are insane.”
Gerard stopped mid-step, turned, and gestured at the creature, Mikey, I’m telling you—that’s Pete.”
“That’s a bat.”
“It’s Pete in bat form,” Gerard said, exasperated. “Look, that bat I had? ‘Woobles’? It was a vampire named Frank, and he bit your boyfriend and turned him into some sort of half vampire hybrid-“
“You have no physical evidence to support your faulty case,” Mikey snapped. “You are trying to tell me a wild bat you brought into your apartment bit Pete and turned him into a vampire.”
“A half vampire!” Gerard corrected, raising a finger at his know-it-all younger brother, “and you know, for maybe once in your life it would do you good to stop acting like some sort of certified stuck up lawyer, and actually listen to what I have to say!”
Mikey gritted his teeth, his brows furrowing, “how the hell am I ever supposed to listen to what you have to say when all you come up with is nonsense Gerard! You’re cooped up in this dingy art studio like a lunatic- you’re older than me and you fail to even keep a real and stable job. And here you are, trying to sell me stories that my missing boyfriend is a vampire!? It’s not fucking funny Gerard. When I came to you, it was to ask for help because my partner is missing and could be in danger, do you not understand that!? Do you think this is a good time to joke around!?”
Gerard’s eyes widened in shock as he took a step back, soaking in the jabbing words of his brother, sure- Mikey could be…stern, but he had never treated him like some sort of vermin, “Is that really what you think of me Micheal? Some leech of a freelance artist who can’t support themself? Is that what you really think of me, huh!?”
Mikey stormed right up to his face, and in one breathless and stern whisper, he uttered it, “Yes”
That’s it
Gerard fisted the front of Mikey’s shirt and lifted him into the air, shoving his younger brother against the wall, “Are you fucking kidding me!?”
“You’ve gone mad Gerard!!”, Mikey chocked out, prying himself out of his elder brother's grip, “you keep talking about fantastical creatures that don’t exist, and painting all night long without a wink of sleep! And now you’re convinced my missing boyfriend is your pet bat!?”
Gerard groaned in exasperation, “For the last time Mikey!!! That isn’t ‘Woobles’ over there, that’s Pete!”
“It’s the same fucking bat, Gerard”
“No it’s not!!”
“Vampires don’t exist, Gerard!” Mikey shouted, finally snapping. “You’re a grown man who thinks Dracula is just a misunderstood icon, and now you’re dragging my boyfriend’s disappearance into your delusions!”
A small, pained squeak came from above, as Pete gazed at his boyfriend longing, but the Pre-Law student was still oblivious to it all, “Shut up!” Mikey barked, pointing a trembling finger at the bat. “You’re a nuisance!”The bat fell silent, wrapping its wings around itself in a dramatic little sulk.
Gerard softened slightly. “Look, I know it sounds crazy. Believe me, I think it’s crazy. But Pete is literally hanging on my curtains, Mikey. He’s moody, thirsty, and won’t stop whining over your photos- that’s Pete”
Mikey stared at the bat for a long, long moment.
Then he sighed
“Oh my God,” he muttered. “This is gonna wreck my LSAT prep.”
The bat squealed with joy and dropped from the curtain rod, fluttering awkwardly toward Mikey, who yelped and ducked
“Boundaries, Pete!” Gerard yelled. “You’re still a bat, man!”
“I hate this family,” Mikey muttered as he grabbed a hoodie to use as a bat-shield
“Then stop dating cryptids!” Gerard called after him
“You made him a cryptid! God- I can’t believe I’m believing you on this….this better not be a prank Gerard”
The bat squeaked again, nuzzling up against Mikey, and Gerard rolled his eyes. “I promise you Mikey, nobody will be pranking you anytime soon”
Mikey held the hoodie out like a barrier, staring down at the tiny creature fluttering toward him with too-human desperation in its beady eyes
“Gerard,” he said, voice low, “if this is some unhinged art-performance bullshit you’ve cooked up to avoid reality, I swear to God—”
“It’s not,” Gerard said sharply. “I wish it was.”
The bat hit Mikey’s chest and clung there weakly, its small claws sinking into the fabric. It made another noise—smaller, warbled, full of longing. Mikey’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t swat it away this time. Instead, his arms hovered, uncertain, around the thing on his chest
“What happened to him?” he asked after a long silence, voice almost hoarse
Gerard turned away, running both hands through his hair, his breath shaking. “Frank… or ‘Woobles’ as you may know him, disappeared last night, only a few days after he accidentally bit Pete”
Mikey’s heart kicked against his ribs. “So he bit Pete. You let that happen?”
“I didn’t let anything happen!” Gerard snapped, spinning back to face him. “I didn’t know what Frank really was until it was too late. Apparently he bit Pete that day we were going through mom and dad’s things in my office, the day he fell on the living room floor, remember?”
Remember? How could he forget? The image was still fresh in Mikey’s mind, burned into the corners of his eye sockets, the whole scenario playing over and over again in his head like a bad memory on loop. The way his boyfriend had been out cold on the ground, and seemed so fragile and pale….and maybe even dead, perhaps- Gerard really was right…
He started pacing again, more erratic now, like the movement kept his mind from tearing itself apart- Pete couldn’t really be a vampire- could he?
“That day of your mock trial…”, Gerard went on, eyes flicking toward the bat. “It wasn’t Woobles that attacked that innocent woman- it was Pete”
Mikey’s stomach twisted
“That was Pete..?”, the younger Way whispered in disbelief
Mikey lowered his gaze, finally letting himself look- really look- at the whiny bat that flung desperately to his blazer
And despite everything—despite his training, his logic, his need for the world to make sense—he felt something deep in his chest lurch, crack open, and undeniable pull towards the peculiar winged creature that just seemed to familiar to him to be unknown to his heart.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked quietly.
“Because I knew you’d look at me like you are right now,” Gerard said. “Like I’m a monster.”
“You’re not the one who bit him,” Mikey muttered. “But you are the one who hid this from me.”
“I knew you wouldn’t listen to me Mikey! I know you wouldn’t believe me, I was trying to find a way to fix it on my own, I was trying to protect you-“
“You were trying to protect yourself.”
The bat shivered against him, and Mikey’s arms moved without thinking. He pulled Pete tighter against his chest. The creature made a small, almost grateful sound, and it broke something in Mikey he didn’t realize he was holding together- he had his boyfriend back, but at what cost?
“So what now?” he asked, voice rough. “We just… wait? Keep him like this?”
“I don’t know,” Gerard said, and it was the first time he’d sounded truly afraid. “Frank didn’t leave anything behind. No instructions. No cure. Just vanished.”
Mikey stepped forward, his expression blank, exhausted
“Then we find him,” he said. “We find Frank. We make him fix this.”
Gerard blinked. “You believe me now?”
“I don’t often believe in anything you say Gerard. But if that thing is Pete. And if you’re right about that, then I don’t care what it takes.”
His eyes flicked toward the creaked open studio window, where the outside world bled into shadows.
“If there are monsters out there, then we find them.”
The wind rattled the glass. Somewhere inside the shadows of the apartment, something unseen shifted.
Gerard swallowed. “Alright. Then we start tonight.”
Mikey nodded, staring Gerard down once more, “good…well, now that we’re on the same page, let’s start with the facts-“
Gerard groaned, “Ugh, please Mikey- don’t make this into one of your legal investigations-“
Mikey smirked, fixing the glasses that rested diligently on the tip of his nose, “On the night of Frank’s disappearance, what exactly caused him to flee the scene? Assuming he was still with you at the time of his vanishing?”
Fuck
Gerard’s face turned 50 shades of red as he stared at his younger brother- what was he supposed to say!? ‘Oh yeah, I had kinky sex with a vampire and he almost bit me and then took off in shame without telling me where the hell he was going’!?
“That’s…that’s not important” Gerard choked out, turning his head shamefully to the side for a moment as he relieved that painfully heated moment in his head- it would have been the perfect night if Frank hadn’t run off like that….
“Don’t be ridiculous Gerard- every detail of a case is important” Mikey stated, stroking the Pete-bat gently across his head, “Frank seemed so keen on staying with you when he was a bat- so what caused him to flee? There must have been a reason. Did you two fight?”
Gerard scratched the back of his head nervously, “Well…not exactly? No…we didn’t- it was unimportant-“
“I’m sure it was important enough for him to physically remove himself from the room”, Mikey pressed on
“It wasn’t-“
“Gerard”
“Fine! Fine..! Look we…we were doing things….” Gerard offered awkwardly as he waved his flustered hands, “catch my drift…? And then he…almost bit me- I was taken aback for a moment, then and he panicked and flew off….”
“You have to be fucking kidding me” Mikey scowled, clutching Pete a little to forcefully now, “you mean to tell me you had fucking sex with the man who’s responsible for morphing my beloved boyfriend into a fucking bat!?” He seethed, taking a heated step in the direction of his guilty elder brother
“look- Mikey, I don’t know- it was an accident- all of it, he never meant to turn Pete into a half vampire, and we didn’t really mean to have sex, I don’t know how that even started, and he never meant to piss off the vampire government-“
Mikey’s eyes widened and his face paled, “the who…?”
Fuck
“The um…the vampire government”, Gerard repeated, cursing under his breath at the slip up, he was going to tell Mikey eventually, but he hadn’t planned to overload him with all the information tonight…..
“Oh for Pete’s sake!!!” Mikey barked, followed by a series of violent swears
“No pun intended…?” Gerard offered with an awkward and unsure smile
“It’s not fucking funny Gerard”
“I know”
…
“I thought it was hilarious”
Both of the Way brothers took a step back in shock as then snapped their heads toward the window where the unfamiliar voice had come from, only to see a vampire standing ominously in Gerard’s moonlight studio…and it wasn’t Frank.
“Who the hell….” Gerard mumbled under his breath, taking a step back to look at the figure who had suddenly occupied the room, his hair was as dark as the night, midlength and ratted- stubble decorated all around his rough chin- looked like he slept in days, though Gerard wasn’t even sure that Vampires could even sleep…
The vampire smirked, taking a threatening step closer to the Way brothers, yet keeping a sharp and keen eye on the bat Mikey held suffocating close to his chest, “I expected to find that little bat, Frank, lurking around these confidends…what a surprise to see it’s just another case of humans dwindling amongst his ranks”
Another case…?
“Who are you, and what do you want” Gerard snapped, moving to stand protectively in front of his little brother
“It’s quite simple actually, I’m Minister Bert, head of the vampire government, I regulate all…irregular affairs to put it simply and deal with them accordingly…”, He took yet another sinister step closer in Gerard’s direction, “We try to keep humans, such as yourself, ignorant to the existence of our kind…however, certain rapid individuals, such as that pesky vampire you met earlier- seem to disregard our rules and blur the lines between mortals and immortals regardless…”
Mikey glared Bert’s way, trying to keep Pete out of his sight, “Sure, but what does any of that have to do with us? Frank is gone now, we don’t know where it is. And if you really want to keep vampires out of the company of humans, then why don’t you follow your own shtick and leave us the hell alone”
In the speed of light, Bert zipped up close to Mikey’s face, the supernatural speed causing the younger Way brother to widen his eyes in a mix of amazement and terror as Bert spat at him meaningly, “Quick to judge, aren’t we little pre-law student? Thought I would play nice with little weak and helpless mortals such as yourself, but you can’t seem to help yourself, can you? I’ll tell you what. You know what I really want? That sorry excuse for a bat in your hands, and I’m going to rip it too shreds”
Pete shriked in horror, as Mikey ran to Gerard’s side, staying behind his elder brother’s back, and Gerard snapped, “That isn’t a fucking bat, that’s my brother’s boyfrined, and you’re going to stay the hell away from him!”
Bert let out a hollow laugh, “Stay away from him? Leave you alone? Please, he’s a half vampire, he isn’t even fully transformed yet- do you know how dangerous that is for society? Someone must put him out of his misery before he harms others, don’t you think?”
“He hasn’t harmed a soul!” Mikey barked, holding his boyfriend close to him
Bert shook his head disapprovingly, “But he has, hasn’t he? What about that innocent young woman he tried to devour alive at your mock trial? Don’t be mistaken Micheal, that could have been you back there…”
He gasped, “But how..? How do you know-”
“Your name? The mock trial? The incident? I know a lot more than you think Micheal, and a lot more than you're willing to find out…I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you one last chance to surrender the bat peacefully over to me, if you do, I’ll leave you and your brother alone, and if not? I’ll kill everybody in this room in cold blood in a matter of seconds”
A chill ran down Gerard’s spine as he dared to shoot a nervous glance over at his brother. He wasn’t an idiot- he knew this Bert guy meant serious buisness…If Mikey chose to save Gerard and himself? Pete would be dead, if he chose to save Pete? Everybody in the room would be dead…
Gerard had never seen his brother in such a predicament before, he always seemed to know what to say, and how to say it to win. Every mock trial, every court case, every class lesson and long study sessions into the dark of night prepared him to look at every possible outcome, and still find a way to win- yet in this case, the odds were stacked against him, and the outcome seemed hopeless. He had two choices, two choices that both resulted in death, yet the amount of deaths and whom it would occur to was still up for debate…
It didn’t help that Pete stared at Mikey longingly from his chest, his little bat eyes beaded with slight tears, as he tried to process the solidified fact that no matter what his lover said, he was going to die
“Please…don’t hurt them…” Mikey croaked, he rarely begged, in fact he never did, but seeing as he had been given this impossible decision to make? He had no other choice.
Bert tilted his head slowly, his dark eyes glowing faintly like the embers of a long-dead fire. There was something ancient about the way he looked at them—like he’d watched empires fall, and expected the same of humans who dared to love the wrong thing.
“Don’t hurt them?” Bert repeated, almost sweetly. “Oh, Mikey… you poor thing. You still think begging works.”
Mikey’s grip on Pete tightened protectively, and the tiny bat whimpered—his wings twitching weakly, like he was trying to shift or speak, but just didn’t have the energy. His form trembled in Mikey’s hands, a little ball of fangs, fur, and exhaustion—half-transformed, half-failed.
Gerard stepped forward, his fists clenched. “So that’s it? You just show up, threaten to kill everyone, and expect us to hand him over like some chew toy? You're not a minister. You’re just a monster with a government badge.”
Bert grinned with all his teeth.
“Oh, I’ve been called worse.”
He stepped forward, gaze locked on Pete.
“And let’s not pretend you don’t know why I’m here. That thing in your hands isn’t supposed to exist.”
Mikey glared. “He’s not a thing. He’s my boyfriend.”
“He’s a mistake,” Bert snapped, the smile dropping. “A contamination. An accidental turning. Do you have any idea how unstable that makes him? Frank Iero wasn’t authorized to sire. He didn’t even have control over his own thirst. And now, because of a slip-up—we have a half-turned, feral, non-consenting hybrid running loose in an unsealed district.”
Gerard’s voice cracked. “He didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“No, I’m sure he didn’t,” Bert said. “And yet here we are. A vampire bit a human without sanction, turned him without ritual, and left him in a state of constant flux. He's not undead. He's not alive. He’s—wrong.”
Pete made a squeaky, pathetic sound. Mikey instinctively shielded him.
“He’s just Pete,” Mikey said, voice shaking now. “He’s an idiot. He wears socks with flip flops. He thinks raccoons are secretly psychic. He mixes vodka with cough syrup because he thinks it ‘unlocks his thoughts.’ He’s not a monster—he’s barely functional as a person!”
Gerard murmured, “He really is,” under his breath.
“I’m not here to debate his personality,” Bert said coolly. “I’m here because this—” he pointed at Pete, “—is an unauthorized transformation. The Council doesn’t allow that. Every unsanctioned turning gets dealt with the same way.”
Mikey swallowed hard. “You kill them.”
“Clean. Quiet. Minimal exposure.”
“No,” Mikey said. “Absolutely not. He didn’t ask for this.”
“And that’s exactly why he’s dangerous,” Bert said. “Do you know what happens to a person when they’re turned by accident? When no one teaches them how to feed, how to shift, how to stop themselves from attacking? They start glitching. Losing time. Losing control.”
Gerard looked at Mikey, quietly. “The incident at the trial…”
Mikey winced.
“Yeah,” Bert said. “You thought he lost control because of stress? No. That was the hunger bleeding through. It always finds a crack.”
Pete twitched again—his body glowing faintly under the skin, veins lighting up like embers for half a second before fading.
“I’m giving you one chance,” Bert said. “Turn him over. We’ll handle it painlessly. And you two can go back to your mortal lives, your pre-law studies, your dumb little paintings, whatever it is you humans do when you're not meddling in things you don’t understand.”
Mikey looked down at Pete, who looked back up at him with wide, uncertain eyes.
He didn’t say anything—couldn’t say anything—not like this. Just a tiny, twitching bat, trembling in Mikey’s hands, his little chest rising too fast. His wings curled in tight, like he was trying to disappear. There was a soft, pitiful squeak that sounded almost like “I’m sorry,” but it wasn’t words. It never was.
Mikey’s grip tightened.
“No,” he said softly.
Bert tilted his head. “No?”
“No,” Mikey repeated, louder now. “You don’t get to act like this was his fault. He didn’t ask to be bitten. He didn’t ask to be turned. He didn’t ask for any of this. Frank messed up, you messed up, and now you want to clean it up by killing my boyfriend? Absolutely not.”
“Mikey—” Gerard started cautiously, voice low.
“I’m serious,” Mikey snapped. “You think he’s dangerous? Fine. Teach him. Help him. Don’t just erase him because he’s inconvenient.”
Bert stared at him, the ancient glow in his eyes burning low and cold.
“I’ve seen a thousand boys just like you,” he said. “Heart full of rebellion. Arms full of monsters. You think love is enough to override nature.”
“It is,” Mikey said, shaking now. “Or at least it’s worth trying.”
There was silence.
Then Bert raised his hand.
The room shifted.
Every shadow in Gerard’s studio pulled toward Bert’s figure like gravity itself was answering to him. The windows cracked. The smell of smoke slithered in from nowhere.
“You’ve made your choice,” he said. “So have I.”
Mikey instinctively shielded Pete, ducking low, but before Bert could strike—
The air cracked.
A violent red blur flashed across the room—
—and something slammed into Bert’s chest, sending him crashing backwards into a wall of half-finished canvases.
Gerard flinched. Mikey blinked. Pete’s wings flailed violently in his arms.
And there, standing where Bert had been—
Was Frank.
Frank Iero, standing in front of the Way brothers protectively in his full vampire glory, leather jacket torn graciously with his sharp fangs bared and his eyes glowing like fresh blood.
“Step away from the bat,” he growled, locking his gaze challengingly upon Bert as if he was itching with a score to settle.
“...Frank?” Gerard gasped breathlessly- he couldn’t believe his eyes, the other night, he thought he would never see the beloved vampire again ... .and now here he was, in front of them, potentially saving their very lives.
Pete squeaked, his entire body twitching, little bat feet kicking in frantic surprise, and Mikey dropped his jaw in astonishment, but Frank didn’t take his eyes off Bert.
“Sorry I’m late. Vampire politics are a nightmare.”
Bert stood slowly, brushing shattered wood off his suit. “You. This is your mess.”
“I know,” Frank said. “That’s why I’m here to fix it.”
“You bit him,” Bert growled. “Illegally. You turned a human without sanction. You know what that means.”
“I also didn’t drain him, didn’t finish the turn,” Frank snapped. “He’s in flux, yeah. But that means he’s not dead. Not until you make him that way.”
Bert’s smirk twisted into something darker. “You think that excuses you?”
Frank’s eyes stayed locked on him. “I think it buys me enough time to get them the hell out of here.”
“You may have gotten away last time Iero, but not tonight,” Bert said—and vanished rapidly, suddenly, the room crackled with purple steaks of lighting as he reappeared behind Mikey in a snap of displaced air, claws already reaching.
But Frank was faster.
With a growl, he tackled Bert mid-lunge, slamming him into a rack of hanging canvas. The wall exploded in splinters and pigmented dust. The fruits of Gerard’s creative labor spilling out onto the floor like victims in a murder scene, but the older Way brother was unbothered by the perishing of his craftsmanship, he had more dire situations to worry about now.
Gerard grabbed Mikey’s arm, pulling him back just as a shard of wood zipped past where his throat had been a moment earlier.
Frank and Bert crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs, fangs, and fury, paint cans clanking to the ground and spilling out onto the wood like piles of colorful spilt guts and blood.
“YOU DON'T TOUCH THEM!” Frank roared, slamming his elbow into Bert’s jaw. He rolled, knees pinning the older vampire down, and went for a stake at his belt.
Bert hissed—a horrible, inhuman sound—and threw Frank off with an unnatural burst of strength.
Frank smashed into one of Gerard’s bookshelves, collapsing it with a shuddering boom. His body twitched, as old texts littered the ground and contacted harshly with his head but he was up in a blink—blood dripping from his mouth, fury in his eyes as pages of fantasy novels fluttered violently throughout the air.
Mikey crouched low behind a tipped-over table, shielding Pete, who trembled violently in his hoodie—his little bat wings flailing like he could feel every shift of power in the room, highly sensitive to the combat that was rapidly escalating out of hand.
“Gerard,” Mikey hissed, “we need to get out. He’s not gonna win this alone.”
Gerard’s eyes darted to the back entrance in desperation, “There’s the fire stairs—if we can get to them—”
“MOVE!” Frank shouted.
A table went flying as Bert hurled it across the room with supernatural strength, smashing into a wall inches from Gerard.
Frank dashed back in, slamming into Bert again, driving a knee into his ribs, a punch into his throat.
Gerard didn’t hesitate. Grabbing Mikey’s hand, he dragged him toward the fire escape. Mikey clutched Pete tighter, the little bat’s wings fluttering weakly against his chest, trembling as if he could sense the violence closing in.
Behind them, Frank and Bert crashed through the studio like a storm unleashed. Frank’s fists moved in savage rhythm, fists and feet flying as Bert countered with brutal precision and unnatural strength. The two vampires were locked in a deadly dance—one fueled by desperation, the other by rigid authority.
Gerard yanked open the fire escape door and they spilled out into the cool night air, rain slicking the metal stairs. Thunder rumbled overhead, as if the heavens themselves echoed the chaos inside the building.
“Keep moving!” Gerard urged, hauling them down the stairs two at a time. Pete whimpered quietly, his bat eyes darting anxiously from shadow to shadow.
Mikey glanced back toward the studio’s glowing windows. A jagged crack of lightning revealed Frank pinned against the wall, Bert’s claws digging into his shoulder.
“Frank—” Mikey gasped, and Gerard had to force himself not to look in fear that his heart would shatter from the very sight
Frank’s bloodied face twisted into a grimace, then he pushed back with a surge of power, hurling Bert off him like a ragdoll.
“I’m coming…!,” Frank growled under his breath, “Go Gerard, Go..!”
Gerard reached the bottom of the stairs and burst into the alley, rain pounding against their skin. The street was dark and empty except for their ragged breaths and the distant wail of sirens.
“We can’t just run,” Gerard said urgently, looking around for an escape route, but was met only by the uncertainty of the darkness that enveloped them.
Mikey nodded, voice tight with fear. “We..we need the car Gee…the damn car, where is it..?”
Alley lights flickered themselves to death as Gerard shuddered, “The car…It’s, It’s parked around the corner…lets go.”
Pete whimpered again, his tiny bat claws digging into Mikey’s hoodie as if grounding himself to the only solid thing left.
Suddenly, the alley behind them erupted with a shadowy ripple, a black fog rising up from the ground and swirling around the brothers like a menacing troop of bad omen and ashes, Bert’s voice echoed coldly from the darkness. “You’re not escaping this time Iero”
Frank stepped out from the shadows, bleeding but unbroken, eyes blazing. “Watch me.”
With a roar, Frank charged, covering the distance in a blur. The rain turned to steam as his furious charge clashed with Bert’s dark magic, the alley lighting up with bursts of crackling energy, and then….
Fire
It was as if time had stopped, with Frank saw that first flicker of splintering hot light, the way the flames consumed the ground that trembled beneath them, taking flight to the wood of the walls and all that stood in its path…he froze as the supernatural fire began to spread, the rain failing to put out it’s rage and embers….and there, burnt into the corner of his mind, he saw her all over again, dying, bleeding out on the pavement, screaming his name as death sunk its cruel and icy claws into her soul, flames clamming her flesh and melting her bones…her piercing scream haunting his being for the rest of eternity
Jamia
Frank…!
Frank, help me please…!
FRANKIE..!
FRANKIE!!!!
“FRANK…!” Gerard yelled, snapping the vampire back into reality….that’s right, she was gone now, she was gone, and he could never do anything to get her back, would never be able to hear her joyfully laugh again, never get to see her sweet smile, never get to hold her hand, and spend the night peacefully by her side, but he still had a chance to make this right, a chance to start over again- he had one thing left, he had him, and he’d be damned if he let Bert take another person away from him again
Frank seized the moment, charging into the flames, clutching a silver stake that was positioned on his belt, “Go Gerard! Take your brother and Pete and get the hell out of here! I’ll cover you!”
Gerard nodded frantically, whispering a ‘thank you’ underneath his breath as he led the way, Mikey gripped Pete tighter, and they sprinted toward the corner just as Frank and Bert collided in a shattering explosion of power.
They reached the car—a battered old sedan with the keys hanging from the ignition.
Gerard yanked the door open and threw himself inside. Mikey slid into the back seat, cradling Pete protectively.
The cold of the night still resided within the old car, and bit Gerard’s trembling skin furiously as he struggled to start the engine, “come on…come on, work damn it..!”
Mikey turned frantically to his side, peering out the window, Bert wasn’t far away, and it wasn’t long before the heartless vampire would gain on them, “Come on Gerard, faster, hurry up- he’s coming!”
“FUCK!” Gerard hissed, as the car spat out puffs of engine smoke, and shuddered in short bursts of power, doing anything but start
In a fraction of a second Frank appeared beside the car, battered but fierce, He half climbed in the passenger seat, wiping blood from his lip, passing Gerard a tattered map, a silver stake, a vile of blood, and a letter of instructions, “Here, take this and go Gerard…you need to leave now, you don’t have much time before he gains on you…thank you for everything and I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry Gerard…and…I love you” He chocked, tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he began to climb out of the car, but Gerard shot a frantic hand in his direction, gripping his wrist in desperation
“What..? No- Frank you can’t leave” Gerard let out a sob and a piercing panicked whine, “please don’t-”
And before Gerard could even finish his plea,Frank leaned in—his breath trembling, heart pounding—and without a second’s hesitation, he cupped Gerard’s cheek with a hand both steady and trembling, firm yet impossibly gentle. Then, as if pulled by a force greater than either of them could resist, he kissed him. He kissed him deeply with all the love and all the passion his undead soul could muster, kissed him with all of the emotions he knew he would feel in longing from this moment onwards as he met his fate apart from Gerard’s side…In that single, electrifying moment, the chaos of the world fell away and time stilled. The cold, bitter night that had clung to their skin like frost was banished by the sudden, searing warmth that surged between them. Gerard kissed him back with equal fire, their passion crashing together like waves in a storm—raw, consuming, undeniable, and when they had finally finished, Frank pulled away from the gorgeous man in front of them, the artist’s face painted in a harsh moonlight, with a single soul shattering tear running down his mortal face, and onto his soft pink lips Frank knew he would miss so much, and with that, he resigned to his fate
“Drive,” Frank rasped,”If not for me, do it for your brother”, he pleaded for the last time, standing up to shut the door with a finality he struggled to find within himself
With a cry, Gerard slammed the engine to life, tires screaming on wet asphalt as they sped into the night.
Behind them, the alley shimmered—Bert’s dark figure could be seen in the car’s review mirror, looming dangerously behind Frank like a scenery painting in an abundance of furious flames and relentless rain. And for the first time in his entire artistic life, Gerard found something about life that wasn’t so beautiful anymore.
Notes:
Wow, so heavy chapter, sorry guys for the drama and the trauma 💔 Feel free to comment or rant down below 🖤 Till next time 🦇
ilikethesun on Chapter 1 Fri 08 Aug 2025 06:17AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 1 Fri 08 Aug 2025 10:16AM UTC
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Beetlebreath on Chapter 1 Fri 08 Aug 2025 09:58PM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 1 Sat 09 Aug 2025 01:21AM UTC
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Beetlebreath on Chapter 2 Sat 09 Aug 2025 01:28AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 2 Sat 09 Aug 2025 02:08AM UTC
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Rizetuu on Chapter 2 Sat 09 Aug 2025 05:44AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 2 Sat 09 Aug 2025 11:07AM UTC
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Frnkfan (Guest) on Chapter 2 Sat 09 Aug 2025 03:47PM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 2 Sat 09 Aug 2025 06:22PM UTC
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ilikethesun on Chapter 3 Sun 10 Aug 2025 07:02AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 3 Sun 10 Aug 2025 12:09PM UTC
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Rizetuu on Chapter 3 Sun 10 Aug 2025 08:00AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 3 Sun 10 Aug 2025 12:10PM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 3 Sun 10 Aug 2025 04:33PM UTC
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memories_far_away on Chapter 3 Thu 14 Aug 2025 07:25PM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 3 Fri 15 Aug 2025 01:50AM UTC
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funkypasta32 on Chapter 4 Sun 10 Aug 2025 06:05PM UTC
Last Edited Sun 10 Aug 2025 06:05PM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 4 Sun 10 Aug 2025 06:56PM UTC
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ilikethesun on Chapter 5 Mon 11 Aug 2025 05:03AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 5 Mon 11 Aug 2025 01:16PM UTC
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bandomsbiggestbitch on Chapter 5 Tue 12 Aug 2025 12:05PM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 5 Tue 12 Aug 2025 01:06PM UTC
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bandomsbiggestbitch on Chapter 6 Sun 17 Aug 2025 01:49AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 6 Mon 18 Aug 2025 01:52AM UTC
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ash_must_d1e on Chapter 6 Sun 17 Aug 2025 06:20AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 6 Mon 18 Aug 2025 01:51AM UTC
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aah()pickles (Guest) on Chapter 6 Tue 26 Aug 2025 05:00AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 6 Sun 31 Aug 2025 02:43PM UTC
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bandomsbiggestbitch on Chapter 7 Sun 31 Aug 2025 03:52PM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 7 Mon 01 Sep 2025 10:50AM UTC
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Frnkfan (Guest) on Chapter 7 Mon 01 Sep 2025 04:26AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 7 Mon 01 Sep 2025 10:50AM UTC
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bandomsbiggestbitch on Chapter 8 Sat 06 Sep 2025 02:57PM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 8 Sat 06 Sep 2025 06:39PM UTC
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Ech0ing_Ecstacy on Chapter 8 Mon 08 Sep 2025 09:59PM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 8 Tue 09 Sep 2025 10:35PM UTC
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kaheihyudu on Chapter 8 Tue 09 Sep 2025 12:52AM UTC
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Lunar_Radio on Chapter 8 Tue 09 Sep 2025 10:34PM UTC
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