His initial reaction to the sigh, the clear annoyance, the way he could sense the other didn’t want to help, was to snap. To waltz right out. To forget about it. He didn’t though. For one of the few times he ever would, Dae bit his tongue, and slid his little ass right back onto the table for the other. Part of him even felt bad for asking. “Yeah.”
Dae was silent for a few moments, watching the other down the shimmering, light blue tonic. He scrunched up his nose– it didn’t look too appetizing. Then, he relaxed his facial expression, more into a frown. “Look, I’m sorry,” he finally murmured, as sincere as he could be.
Vic was all too used to downing the tonics that aided him in his energy regeneration, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was akin to downing cough medicine, but at least twenty-seven times worse because it was magic. He’d tried diluting it with flavoring to make it a bit more palatable in the past, but it’d simply reduced the potency, which defeated the purpose of the tonic. So Victor would continue to drink the harsh, bitter tonic, and he would continue to scrunch his nose and reel at the aftertaste, just a bit.
He capped the vial and set it down to the side, making a mental note to clean it out later. “You should be,” his words held no malice, no cutting edge. It was simply a statement. He should be sorry. Plain and simple. Victor wasn’t going to sugar coat it, wasn’t going to tell him not to worry about it, because fact of the matter is Dae should be sorry. He turned and made his way back to the examination table, “Lay down? It’ll be easier if your torso is as even as possible.”
“I appreciate the apology,” he started, preemptively gathering his magic, waiting patiently for Dae to lay down. “I do beg your pardon though, for having to say that it really doesn’t mean shit to me if you’re going to go right back to ignoring everything I say.” again, his words were spoken with no harshness, no sharpness. He wasn’t here to belittle or berate Dae for his choices and actions, not unless Dae were to fight him on it, “I trust that you mean what you say, and that you believe you’re being truthful, but be honest with me. Are you actually going to listen to me when I say you need to get checked out?”
He sighed at the prospect of having to shift his body around to actually allow Vic to see the wound, though he was already shifting forward, pulling himself out of the comfortable little dip in the couch that he’d settled into. “Less likely to scar sounds ideal.” Tugging the hem of his shirt up, he winced at the sight of the wound once again. Truthfully, it looked so much better after the blood had been rinsed down the shower drain, but the little bit of mangled flesh where the bullet had grazed his skin was something that he never once thought he’d have to see on himself. “Oh god, doc, tell me I’m not gonna die,” he joked, overdramatic as always as he made a show of averting his eyes from the wound.
In truth, the doctor wasn’t sure if he was feeling alright by any definition of the word. He still felt in a daze, as though his body was somehow running on adrenaline that has long since left his system. He knew it to be the effects of the potions mixed in to his soaps, but it didn’t change the fact that what he was feeling at the moment wasn’t truly him. Like when you don’t sleep for three days and you’re running on nothing but iced coffee, cheeseburgers, and the occasional bubble tea. College was not the best time of Vic’s life.
But the smile that bloomed on the doctor’s face, the small embers of heat that settled in his cheeks, the sheer relief and joy he got from seeing Sungmin joke around despite getting shot just a few hours earlier- that was all him. There was no potion he could create that could replicate this feeling right here. He laughed and shook his head, raising his eyebrows with an amused grin, “Y’know, I think you just might be able to pull through,” he tapped into the source of his power and gently called upon it, as though he were rousing a sleeping child from their nap, to see how much he had left inside of him without running himself to the brink.
He had more than enough, he decided. Of course, there are a few select people in this world Vic would make that call for even if it meant draining himself to the bone, and Sungmin was one of them. This wasn’t a case like that, however. He might burn himself out just a tad, but it would be nothing in comparison to what he’d done earlier in the day.
“Since I’m not really stitching you up this time it should be a lot less painful. Might tickle a bit, but hopefully no pain. If you do feel any, let me know immediately, ok? I don’t want to hurt you.” he said earnestly. He had a serious look on his face, but it wasn’t stern by any means. It was soft. Genuine. Not quite worried, but it was evident that he was serious about taking the best care of the man before him as he possibly could. He brought his healing aura to his hands and ghosted them over the flawed skin on an otherwise flawless canvas, sending delicate little pulses of his magic into the skinwalker’s system to test the waters.
“You will have to do without pocket handkerchiefs, and a great many other things, before we reach our journey’s end, Bilbo Baggins. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you. The world is ahead.”
Never thought I’d dig this old thing up again, but here we are! Vic’s home hasn’t much changed. It’s still very cozy, earth, and homely. There are still far too many plants, but would it truly be home to the strongest healing mage this side of he Atlantic if it didn’t?
Vic owns a single-family detached home in the expensive side of neutral territory. Descended from royalty, he’s got plenty of money to ensure his home is as safe as can possibly be. Despite having so much money, Victor does not spend it on making his home luxurious, but rather spends it on the simple comforts that makes a house a home. Warm, fuzzy blankets, extra soft pillows, and a couch you could sink into and take one of the best naps on.
The Rhee’s home is one that stimulates the senses. When you first step in, your eyes are immediately greeted by lush greenery contrasting against the neutral, earthy, or grey tones. Take a deep breath and perhaps you’ll catch the fresh fragrance of flowers and fresh soil, or if you’re really lucky, the aroma of a delicious, sweet treat cooling on the kitchen counter. The joyus laugh of a precious little girl rings through the air as her little feet pitter-pat on the hardwood floors to greet you. There’s always room at the dinner table to sit down and taste the rich, savory flavors of a classic American-style dinner. In this home, you feel nothing but warmth, love, and comorts.
Vic’s home is a known neutral territory to both members of the Howler’s, and the Ivory Lotus’. Members of both gangs are welcome in his home, and this is known to both sides. He and Yeona have family in both factions, and they simply couldn’t be without them. He has a guest bedroom set up with fresh linens at all times, just in case anyone decided to pop over for a prolonged visit.
Vic’s sense of style has changed ever so slightly during his year in The Howler’s. As a Lotus, his style was very loose, baggy, and plain, as he much prefered being comfortable over being fashionable. While he still wears (and practically lives by) his signature plain white shirts and dark jeans, he’s started to branch out.
And, of course, he’s started wearing leather jackets.
He pairs his white shirts with suit jackets and blazers now, and sometime’s he’ll trade out his plain white t-shirt for a white button up. On occasion, he’ll switch things up and wear black on black on black, and those times were often reserved for days he wanted to look nice.
His hair is still quite long, and still in his signature curly flop. Between getting Yeona ready for school, and preparing for his day at the clinic, he often just doesn’t have time to style his naturally curly/wavy hair. Sometimes he does, though, and he’s grown rather fond of slicking it back, especially when opting for a more dressed up look.
His tattoos are often covered, his wolf being between his shoulder blades and his lotus over his heart. He’s entertained the idea of removing or covering his lotus, but he could never bring himself to do it unless he was forced. The only tattoo he has exposed at all times is the his father and daughter celtic knot.
It’s not typical for Vic to ever feel as though he doesn’t want to get out of bed. He never feels the weight of the world tethering him to his bed in the morning. This morning, despite the long day he knows he has ahead of him, even despite the rain, is no different. In fact, he rises bright-eyed with bedhead, more than ready to tackle the day.
After all, it is Yeona’s birthday.
He goes through the morning rituals he’s put in place to keep him sane. He starts off with a shower, moves on to his skincare routine, gets dressed for the day, and then heads out to the kitchen to make breakfast for when Yeona wakes up. He chuckles, smiling to himself as he cracks some eggs to make Yeona’s favorite muffins, “Jinhee-yah, our girl is growing so fast. She’s got the appetite to match, too,” he speaks softly to the still air of the home, “I still can’t believe it’s been six years...”
“Daddy! Appa!” he hears his favorite little voice call from upstairs, and soon enough little feet pitter pat their way down the stairs. Vic was already ready for her, and he leaned down to scoop the little one into his arms. “Daddy! It’s my birthday!” Vic felt his heart swell with so much love and adoration for his little flower child. He could feel tears sting the back of his eyes and he gave Yeona a bright gummy smile.
“I know, baby, I know! It’s so exciting!” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her squishy cheek, “And how old are you today? I forgot.” he feigned confusion and it took everything in him not to laugh at the face Yeona made in return.
“Appa! You forgot? No way! I’m six years old!”
“Wah... six? No way!” he spoke with a shocked expression, “I thought you were seventy-two!”
Yeona laughed and laughed, the bright, bubbly sound being music to Victor’s ears. “Daddy, you’re not even sevtenty-two!” the little one gave a knowing smile, and Vic knew the jig was up. She had caught on to his little charade. “If I were that old I’d be a princess by now! With a big big castle! Just like King Taejo.” she spoke with a definite nod. Vic could only find amusement in that.
“Yeo, goober,” he set her down on top of the kitchen counter and went to the fridge to grab her a juice box, “a princess and a king are super different. It takes a lot to rule a country, y’know. A princess doesn’t need to do that. Besides,” he booped her nose as he handed her the juice, “If Korea still had a king, you’d already be a princess, remember?” he went back to filling muffin liners with the sweet batter of raspberry muffins.
She nodded with the straw between her little lips, “I know. Grandpa would be King!” she beamed at the thought of having a King for a grandpa. That would be the coolest thing ever, she thought. “I think I would want to be King too when I’m big. Then I could take care of everyone like Uncle Sungmin and Uncle Sam! And make Korea a nice place to live for everyone!” Vic didn’t mention that, if Korea still had a King, she would be in line for the throne. After all, John didn’t have any kids, so she’d be the next heir. Like hell Vic would want to run a fucking country.
“I think you’d make a great King, kiddo.”
They spent the day eating, baking, playing games, eating more, opening present, practicing magic, eating cake, and loving each other. Nothing filled the Rhee’s household besides delicious aromas, bright smiles, and joyous laughter. Yeona’s birthday was always a day reserved just for them. After all, it would be rather awkward to explain in the middle of a birthday party why you need to leave to go pay respects to the birthday girl’s dead mother. It was their annual tradition, though, and they wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Yeona would speak to her mother’s urn at the columbarium, telling her all about how much fun she and appa had today, and about everything that had happen in the last year. About how Aunty Yunhee passed away too and how she hoped that she was seeing her sister in Heaven. About how daddy didn’t talk to the aunties as much anymore, but spent a lot of time with his other friends. About how he smiled more now, how he seemed happier now. She asked if she would be mad that dad was happy even though she was gone. If she was looking down at them and saw how happy his friends made him, especially Uncle Sungmin.
Vic felt his tears rolling silently down his cheeks- how could his little one be so... perceptive. Even Victor hadn’t realized the change in himself until Yunhee had pointed it out the last time he’d seen her, slightly before her death. He knew that her mother’s death wasn’t as emotional for her as it was for him- she never knew Jinhee. She never knew the kind, sweet woman her mother was. She’d grown up without her, and you can’t truly miss that which you’ve never had.
The rain finally finally breaks. For the first time all day, the seemingly never ending rain had stopped. Through the glass ceiling the duo saw the clouds part, the setting sun finally able to peek through the clouds. The golden rays shone down, illuminating the two, and a gentle breeze brought the muffled sound of delicate windchimes through the door.
Victor wiped his tears and smiled.
“No, Yeona. I don’t think she’s mad about it at all. I think she’s happy for us.”
“I… actually did have a question,” Dae managed out, taking the little jar of salve from beside him. Despite the fact Dae hated the doctor, check-ups, and anything even remotely related– anything to help the pain, Dae would take. “I– the scarring. I know you noticed it. Is there… anyway, I can like, get rid of it?” he asked softly, feeling a bit like a kid. Why in the hell was it such a shy thing for Dae? Maybe because the scars reminded him of the two traumatic events. Because despite it, they were both traumatic. The hand in his stomach being a bit less, but nevertheless, painful, traumatic, events. “It’s ugly,” he added, a bit dumbly.
As much as the mixed-blood got on his nerves when it came to his health, Vic did enjoy the man as a person. When he said he had a question, Vic turned in his chair, letting it swivel with the twist of his torso. He raised an eyebrow, signaling for the man to continue, and continued to reply to the main through nods and raising his brows. Of course he noticed the scars that marred the flesh of the other man. He’d have to be fucking blind not to see them.
And Dae wanted to get rid of them.
Of course he did. Victor had told him- had warned him after his first encounter with the Night Blood’s leader that his wounds needed extensive care. That it would scar terribly, and that he could help, and Dae made the conscious decision not to take his offer; he turned to his boyfriend instead. Then he got shot, and he only accepted as much healing as was necessary to keep him alive until he could get to his boyfriend. He ignored Vic’s requests to come in to check up on the wound, saying Seokju was taking good care of him. Vic knew that the other doctor was in fact doing so, but that didn’t change the fact that it was his fucking job to make sure every single member of the Howler’s was in optimal condition. Especially the assassins.
And now here he was.
Asking for the scars to be gone.
Because they’re ugly.
Perhaps Dae caught him on a bad day. A day where Victor had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, hadn’t had his morning coffee, had stepped on his daughter’s legos- maybe he was just in a bad mood. Maybe Victor was tired. Tired of being taken for granted by the rest of the gang. Tired of only being called upon when someone was dying. Tired of wasting his years and years in med school on this. Victor didn’t want to help him.
He turned back in his chair for a moment and glanced down at the photo of his wife he kept on his desk. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in and sighed before turning back around to face Dae. “Yeah, I can get rid of them. You got an extra twenty minutes to spare?” he opened the bottom left drawer at his desk and the contents jingled as he did so, small glass bottles gently knocking against each other. He pulled out a small vial of a shimmering, light blue tonic, uncapped it, and knocked it back in one go.
He couldn’t even tell how long it had been when he finally stepped out, carefully patting himself dry with the fluffy towel hanging outside of the guest shower. So entranced by the peaceful atmosphere that time hadn’t even existed for him. Vic was right, the pajamas he’d left him with hung slightly off of his form, the older man’s height apparent in the length of the garments. Carefully, as to not irritate his side, he bent down to cuff the ends of the pants around his ankles, if only so that he wouldn’t trip on the stairs, and then left the room, heading back toward the Rhee’s living space. The sound of the shower running was still ever present when he passed by Victor’s room, and Sungmin found himself happy that the medic was giving himself a long enough time to relax. Making his way down the stairs, he simply opted to lower himself back onto the couch he’d been lying on earlier in the night, waiting patiently for the witch’s return.
Vic truly felt more invigorated after his shower. The special soaps of his creation played a major part of it, but just having the ability to decompress to himself was doing him wonders. He didn’t feel rejuvenated by any means, it would take far more than some water pressure and fancy soaps for that after the day he had, but he felt good. He felt better. He felt like he could face the world with a smile on his face. He could at the very least face Sungmin with a smile, which was good enough for now.
Once he’d wrapped up his shower, he didn’t dwell too long on the mundane bits that came after. He dried himself off, slipped on some grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, and toweled his hair off halfheartedly, not particularly wanting to deal with it. He’d much rather curl up on the couch with a nice warm drink and some good company.
So he did.
He pattered out of his room and down the stairs, taking care not to step near the floorboards he knew wee prone to creaking. He hit the landing and looked to the right, and Vic couldn’t help the gummy smile that spread across his lips upon seeing the bookkeeper. He walked over and rather unceremoniously plopped down on the couch beside Sungmin, letting out a relived sigh as he did so.
“Ah,” he started as he plopped, bringing his hands down to his knees, “What a fuckin’ day. You holdin’ up alright?” he asked, both a question to his mental and emotional wellbeing as well as the his physical wellbeing considering he’d been shot earlier. “I can do some more work on it, y’know. The quicker it gets worked on, the less likely it is to leave a scar.”
Dae went quiet, finally, as he saw the luminous green healing aura surrounding Vic’s palms. He did as he was told, having nothing left to say, and lifted up his shirt to reveal the nasty looking healing process of his stomach. It wasn’t infected, from what Dae could tell. He had it being handled carefully, as the man who he lived with never allowed it to ever get infected, but the scarring that was beginning to come into play, Dae hated it.
And Dae hated the fact that Vic was most likely going to mention something about the scarring. This was a medical checkup, so of course, he was going to hear all about it. He stayed quiet, letting the other do his job for once.
Victor made quick work of scanning the area, knowing that he wouldn’t find infections. If the man lived with a physician that couldn’t even take care of something like that, Vic would have been incredibly concerned. He was lucky to have a man like Seoju around, considering his aversion to anything in the medbay. His hand hovered above the scarred flesh, small, warm pulses of gentle energy scanned beneath the skin’s surface for damage. Aside from just a little bit of wear and tear from not taking a break like he was told (which was entirely expected, to be honest, and Vic had factored that into his estimated recovery time), he was fine.
“You’re probably a little sore, but everything looks fine.” he stated, giving one last once over deeper in the tissue and muscle and found, again, that with a little more rest he’d be right as rain. Vic nodded, a small sound of affirmation rumbled in his throat. He removed his hand, dissipating his aura. “You’re good.” he turned away from the man and opened a draw from the work station he’d been working at earlier. “You can use this to help with soreness and pain if you don’t want to use medication,” he set the little jar of salve on the bench next to the assassin, “Thanks, have a good one.” he turned away to plop himself right back into the chair he’d occupied when the assassin had first entered.
“Get it over with. Look at the wound, it better be just a quick once over, it’s not infected and shit. It’s fine,” Dae muttered, resting his hands on his thighs. He felt like a kid, the way his legs hung off the exam table.
Vic fought the urge to roll his eyes at the mixed-blood. He liked Dae well enough, but for the love of everything good in this world, he was, to date, the worst fucking patient he’d ever had as a gang medic. Howler’s and Ivory Lotus combined. He was just as eager to get Dae out of his office if only so that he could get the whiny man away from him and back into the group chat where he could enjoy the man’s personality at a distance. It always took everything in his power not to snap some respect into the merdemon.
“Yea, yea,” he muttered, waving his hand dismissively. Victor had the patience of a saint, and somehow, someway, Dae had managed to run it dry. He didn’t hate the man by any means, but he simply never saw him outside of healing, and the few times he has seen him for healing he’ been the single most insufferable patient he’s ever had. He was tempted to tell him to fuck off, get out, and deal with the repercussions himself, but Vic was a doctor. Not just a medic. He had a duty to see his patients recovery process through to the end.
He brought his magic to his hands with no thought at all, the luminous green healing aura surrounding his palms, and gestured to Dae’s shirt, “Lift it, please.” the sooner we get this over with, the better.
“What, hot body doesn’t qualify as a name nowadays?” He asked sarcastically before shaking his head. He didn’t need to know her name, knowing a name would make it too personal, it would insinuated that he cared. Minho huffed and propped his uninjured leg up onto where he was sat, opening his legs even further to make for a very… interesting sight. Shame was certainly not something the Old Dog experienced. “Anyway, stop subtlely berating my lifestyle and love choices. You find a girl worthy of me and I’ll stop coming here for STI check ups. Change of conversation.” He hummed, thinking for a moment. “What about your home life? It’s been a while since I’ve seen your little one, how’s she finding being surrounded by dogs instead of harpies?”
Vic couldn’t help the amused smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips, “Tch,” he snorted, “If I wanted to poison you I would have done it ages ago, hyung. My apologies, next time I slow the bleeding, I’ll make it a cocktail,”
Victor knew wholeheartedly how the tech felt about the ‘c’ word. Not everyone was like him, after all. Vic had met his wife when he was fairly young, they married young, they’d had the most darling beautiful girl in the world young. Had his wife not passed all those years ago, he had no doubt in his mind he’d be happily married with one or two more tykes running around. Not everyone was like him, though. Not everyone wanted that. Sometimes Victor wishes he could live his life that way too, but he always, always regrets those thoughts as soon as he thinks them. After all, then he’d never have Yeona. Not everyone wants a Yeona, though.
When Minho first started joking around like that during the healing process, it had always freaked Victor out. Even now, it still caught him off guard- but at this point he could roll his eyes and tell the older to shove off. He could, but he won’t. Instead he’d much rather just continue his work, stitching the wound closed.
He wasn’t surprised when the conversation got redirected at him, somehow it always did. He grinned just thinking about his little one, “Yeo’s doing good. She loves her new school, she loves the Howler’s... she misses some of the old members, but most of the people she misses are dead now,” he sighed, sending another pulse of pain numbing energy through the wound, “I can’t think of many five-year-olds who’ve lost so many loved ones so quickly. But she’s taking it... well. Alarmingly so... I fear she may just become a Howler one day.” he chuckles, but there no humor in his voice.
Yeona had lost her mother before she even knew what a mother was. She’d been raise by Victor, his older brother, Sam, and the ladies of The Ivory Lotus. Eventually, he’d met another Howler... he’d come to love and cherish that boy as a son, and Yeona loved him too... and then last year happened. The fire of La Fortuna, the hit on The Underground... Yeona had lost so many beloved aunts and her new big brother all in one night. Then Yunhee, the closest person to a mother Yeona had ever had, was murdered. Then the bomb happened, then Sungmin got shot before her very eyes...
His little lotus flower had been through so much pain and suffering, and there was nothing Vic could have done to stop any of it.
The wolf’s underclothes seemed depressingly normal for him. That was until he turned to hobble towards the nearest seat and the words ‘BITE ME’ emblazoned in red were displayed fo Vic to see.
“Tell me Doc… am I gonna make it.” Minho asked in a truly melodramatic fashion, before adding; “To my date tonight? Seriously this one might be a keeper if she’s everything she seems to be. Dull as dishwater but god… her body.”
Vic had found the tonic and had the great fortune of turning around with just enough time to catch BITE ME plastered right there for the world to see. “Jesus fuckin’-” Vic muttered under his breath in surprise, doing his absolute best to stifle the laugh that threatened to erupt from his chest. Now was not the fucking time to be laughing, he had a life to save. He uncapped the bottle of the tonic and passed it to the man, “Drink up, buddy.”
Victor knelt down in front of where Minho was seated, and while he had no idea how the weapon tech had managed to fuck up his leg that badly, he knew with confidence he’d have it healed in no time. “A keeper, huh? You mean keep her around for a few weeks,” he chuckled, summoning the gentle green aura of his healing magic, “Alright, hyung, you know the drill. Let me know if its too much.”
He placed his hands just above the wound, sending little pulses of his magic into the system of the werewolf to both inspect the damage sustained and to dull the pain. Muscle damage, missed the bone, didn’t hit anything major- oh yeah, Minho would be fine in no time. The bullet was nowhere to be seen within the leg, which was going to save the man a world of pain, and explained why he’d lost so much blood on the way in. Vic made quick work of numbing the area, stopping the bleeding, and stitching the wound with his magic. It was the quickest, most sterile way to get it done, after all.
“This girl gonna have an actual name in your phone?” he opted to make small talk while he worked. Unlike the weapon’s tech, the medic hated to work in silence. Mostly just a side effect from the job, all too accustomed to being desperate to keep a patient conscious and talking. That, and to distract from the fact that his friend wasn’t wearing any pants and he was very much eye level with uh... the goods, so to speak. Minho never struck him as the type to partake in fashion choices like these, but Vic had learned long ago to just not expect anything ‘typical’ from the older man. He lived his life in a vicarious way, and Vic was just going to support his life choices.
Minho didn’t wait for an invitation to enter, he didn’t care at this point. He could open the door and be face to face with the… non-face-to-face end of a prostate exam and he wouldn’t mind, nor would he even notice truth be told. The blood loss was starting to make him dizzy and disorientated, he knew he would need to sit soon or risk passing out and falling flat on his face.
“Hey, Doc, could you take a look at me leg, I think I’ve been bit by a flea or something…”
Vic considered himself a lucky man. He had his fair share of loss, like anyone else, but everything in his life always lead him to something to gain. Going to university had led him to Sam, who would become a brother to him. His grandmother passing had lead him to Agdeog, which had lead him to his wife. His wife had blessed him with the happiest five years of his life, and ultimately had given him the blessing of his little Yeona. His wife had also, unknowingly, lead him to his fate of being tied to this city... this gang life forever. Being in the Ivory Lotus hadn’t been the best time of his life, but he would never regret his service to his girls, for being an Ivory Lotus had ultimately lead him to being a Howler.
His family. His home. He knew he would never turn back from this life, he didn’t want to. His family, his friends- everyone was right here. He had Sam, he had Sungmin, Hisoka, Minh-
Speak of the fuckin’ devil, eh?
Vic loved Minho. He really did. The guy had become one of his closest friends since joining The Howler’s. He’d even go as far to say that Minho was one of his best friends, in general. The medic truly had a soft spot for the older man, even though he could be a bit careless at times. Vic sighed, standing up from his seat at his desk and motioned him towards a chair.
“Fuckin’ hell, hyung. That flea really got ya, huh? Take your pick,” he gestured to the blood soaked stain on the leg of the werewolf’s pants, “take ‘em off or I’m cutting a hole where I need to work,” while he let Minho decide what degree of undress he wanted to partake in today, the witch dug through his cabinets to find a tonic to help with the dizziness and bloodloss.
And just as he expected, he noted the man, making some sort of concoction. He raised an eyebrow slightly before shaking his head. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic, and I kind of didn’t really want to come. I’m healing fine and shit, no infection! So, obviously, I’m fine, I don’t think you really need to check,” he smiled, half-heartedly trying to get out of having Victor take care of him. He hated being taken care of. He could care for himself.
He wasn’t at all surprised at the fact that the mixed blood was late, nor was he surprised by the excuse the man gave him. He knew Dae had this aversion to medical attention, for some odd reason, and he tried to respect that where he could. As lead medic, however, it was his duty to make sure all the members were in good health. As a friend, he needed to know that he was doing everything in his power to make sure his friends were in the best health condition they could possibly be in.
“I know, Dae. I just want to do a quick check up. You’ve had a hole in your gut twice in less than six months, which isn’t healthy, as you could imagine,” he nodded and motioned to the examination table, “just a quick once over to make sure everything is healing properly and that there’s no lasting trauma to the area, I promise.”
He knew that non-humans, in general, typically healed faster than humans did. Even so, every species was different, had different requirements for doing so. An incubus healed off of the energy the gained from sex, vampires, to his understanding, healed off of the blood they feed from- but he wasn’t too familiar with mermaid physiology, or demon physiology for that matter. This was as much of a learning experience for him as it was a check up for Dae.
picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor // @vcsstorm
Victor might be a foolish man for trusting Storm, but that didn’t change the fact that he very much did. In the eyes of many, he was a traitor, after all. He’d left the Ivory Lotus over a year ago and he’d never once looked back. He wore his wolf with pride, and he was happier than he’d ever been since losing his wife six years ago. Regardless of what those who didn’t favor Vic’s decision said, he wasn’t a traitor. He never once spoke against the Ivory Lotus. Never once gave the Howler’s intel against them. He would never betray his girls like that.
Even so, he didn’t make a habit of hanging out with his former colleagues. When Storm had called him and asked to meet up, he’d been nervous, but he agreed without hesitation. Storm was a woman who struck fear in his heart. He knew what she was capable of, after all. You’d have to be dumb and blind to not fear her. He held the utmost respect for her, though. He hadn’t spent five years in the gang to cower in fear of the women of the Ivory Lotus, after all. The fear kept him on his toes, for sure, but his love and respect for her is what kept him here, waiting outside of a train station in the neutral zone.
They had agreed to meet near Victor’s home in the neutral zone, simply for the sake of not crossing enemy lines. Storm has messaged him not 20 minutes earlier saying that her train had been running late, but Victor didn’t mind in the slightest. The weather was lovely, after all, and it gave him a moment to sit on a bench and read a bit more of his book on the physiology of mixed blooded species. She’d get here whenever she got here, and Vic didn’t mind the wait.
Sungmin stepped into the guest room behind Vic, hugging the stack of pajamas he’d been handed close to his chest. It wasn’t as lived in as the witch’s own room, obviously, but it still held the same homey vibe as the rest of the house. “Yeah, absolutely, thanks again,” he was probably throwing around that word much too often at this point, but really he couldn’t help but let his gratitude slip into every ounce of his speech. “I’ll meet you back in the living room afterwards? Unless you’re planning on going straight to sleep. In which case, you definitely deserve it and I wish you a good night.”
The witch shook his head, “No, I don’t think I’ll be heading to sleep quite yet. I’ll meet you in the living room,” punctuated with a nod and made to leave before pausing, “and of course, if you finish before me feel free to help yourself to anything. You know, mi casa es su casa and all that jazz.” it didn’t even occur to him, for even a moment, that his rudimentary high school Spanish would probably be lost on the bookkeeper- he was simply that exhausted. He desperately needed a shower with some essential oils to help calm and invigorate him. Vic finally turned to leave, making his way back down the hall he’d come from.
The familiars rose at the sound of Vic returning to the room, but Vic shook his head, placing a finger to his lips. The pair slunk back down into their little balls of fluff, and Vic head into the bathroom. He turned the water in his shower fairly hot and pulled out everything he’d need to make this shower as restorative as it could be. His oils, a homemade shower fizzy, and special body washes he’d infused with potions were pulled out of a cabinet beneath his sink. Anything that had restorative properties and didn’t clash with something else was placed into the shower, and soon enough the steam was filled with the delicious scent of citrus, mint, and a hint of lavender.
Victor was used to scrubbing dried blood off his hands. He was a medic, after all. He was a surgeon, and while surgeons wear gloves, he still had blood to wash his hands of metaphorically at the end of the night. It didn’t phase him to watch the dirt-tinted crimson wash down his drain. He did make a mental note to wash it down with bleach tomorrow, but for now, all he cared about was getting as much out of his shower as possible. Sungmin still needed to be looked after. Had the bookkeeper not have been around, he probably would have taken a normal shower and just tried to go to bed, but he was here. Sungmin was a calming presence that Victor kind of needed right now, admittedly, and he wasn’t about to just call it a night. He was, however, going to take his sweet time in this fucking shower, being a good host be damned for a moment. He was sure Sungmin would understand.
Only once Vic’s attention was pulled in a different direction did he venture further into the room, extra careful to keep his footsteps light, as if one misstep would wake the poor sleeping figure on the bed. Sungmin mindlessly held his arms outward, allowing the other to hold items up to him to test. “Yeah, that’ll be fine,” he agreed, voice hushed as he looked over the set that the medic had chosen. Vaguely, he noted that he’d heard the words printed on the shirt before, thrown into simple conversations with Vic about their college days. Both items in the set would probably be slightly large on him, if only for the height that the other man had on him, but truthfully he didn’t mind at all. He always did find oversized clothing to be comforting in stressful situations, like a blanket. Hence why he always wore baggy sweatpants and oversized sweaters around his own home.
He gave a little nod, satisfied that the clothes would fit, “Then c’mon, let’s get you situated. The guest quarters are free for you to use.” because truthfully, after today, both men were in need of a shower. Even if for nothing more than to soothe the nerves. A nice shower, perhaps a meal or a drink, and eventual rest. If he were being completely honest with himself, Victor didn’t think he’d be able to sleep at all tonight.
He lead them out of his room and took a turn to the left, leading down a hallway. Vic’s house wasn’t incredibly large or luxurious, but it was spacious enough to comfortably house guests. The guest bedroom was just down the hall from Vic’s own, and had its own little ensuite that was wonderful for privacy. Vic spent his money on comforting aspects in a home, not the luxurious ones. Everything in his house, aside from Yeona’s room, was decorated in muted earthy tones surrounded by plants, with accents of silver and emerald green that tied in with his family’s crest displayed in the living room.
He opened the door to the guest room, revealing a very similarly decorated room to the rest of the house, but with a lack of blooming plants. Just a few leafy friends here and there. “The linens are fresh. Feel free to shower or have a bath if you’d like. I’m actually going to wash up too, I feel pretty disgusting now that I’ve had the chance to think about it.”
when will @vc-aegir learn to keep his guts where they belong
Victor’s med bay office was not a lavish one. It didn’t have all the bells and whistles his office had when he’d been with the Ivory Lotus’, but it did have everything that mattered. It had a table for him to work on his patients, it had counter space and storage for him to keep supplies in, and it had a place for his medical tools. It was a little bare bones, for now, but it got the job done. Victor kept his office immaculate, everything was pristine, steril, and in it’s rightful place.
Everything but his patient, that is.
He knew Dae didn’t love the idea of being treated by the medic when his boyfriend was a... doctor, of sorts. Even so, he was a Howler, and Victor was the Howler’s medic, meaning that if Victor said I need to see you in my office to check up on the hole in your stomach i patched up on the fly it means I need to see you in my office to check up on the hole in your stomach that i patched up on the fly.
Victor didn’t want to seem impatient, so as much as he wanted to, he didn’t reach for his phone to send a text. Instead, he sat at his desk, patiently whisking up salves in bulk to save for later. His salves were a hot commodity in the Underground, and they were ones he gave for free. He had a salve for practically everything, muscle and joint pain, stuffy nose, headache, itchiness, dryness- Vic practically ran an etsy shop from his office... except it was free, so it was nothing like an etsy shop.
