Chapter Text
Namjoon clears his throat. He’s feeling almost back to his normal self, but there’s a new shakiness he focuses on keeping out of his posture as he steps up to the podium.
Cameras flash as he adjusts the microphone. The crowd in front of him is hard to see with all the lights in his face. He straightens his tie and takes one last look at the speech written out in his hands.
And then, he starts speaking.
“These past few months, our city has been ravaged by a series of senseless attacks that led to the senseless deaths of hundreds of humans and increased violence between vampires and humans,” he starts, shakily, before clearing his throat and continuing. “For months, our hard won peace has been threatened by the malicious actions of a small faction of angry bigots. My heart goes out to all the families affected by this horrible struggle, and I can finally assure you all that the reign of terror has come to an end.”
More cameras flash and journalists that Namjoon can’t even see start yelling from behind the lights. Hoseok’s warm magic wraps around him and Namjoon lets himself peek to the side, just behind the curtain, where Hoseok stands in the shadow with a smile just for him. Namjoon takes a breath, falls back into the version of himself he’s most proud of.
“Last week, former council member Moon Jaesung was apprehended and killed on his property after he attempted to kill both myself and the youngest member of my coven. He represented a small group of born vampires whose views on human-vampire relationships could be best described as…”
Namjoon has practiced the speech a hundred times in front of the mirror, in front of his coven, confirmed every detail with Jungkook. He places the speech down on the podium and stops looking at it, starts making eye contact with every camera in the room. The leader in him takes over as he ensures the world that they can finally breathe safely again.
Hoseok never needs to worry about Namjoon, but he always does. His speech, of course, went off without a hitch. Watching Namjoon step back into his element felt like a miracle. In the week since the abduction and ensuing fight, Hoseok’s sire instincts had reared back up and he just couldn’t let Namjoon out of his sight.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Namjoon, bleeding on the gravel, his magic distant and weak.
And then, Namjoon got back to work, put pen to paper and got back on stage and Hoseok remembered just how strong his once-fledgling has become. His fledgling, his baby, the man that promised he could change the world if he just had enough time. Hoseok would give him all the time in the world, make sure that immortality really sticks.
So Hoseok sends him a pulse of love and reassurance before leaving him alone to handle whatever the reporters had to throw at him. Namjoon smiles, confident, and doesn’t even turn to Hoseok in the shadows before answering another question from the audience.
Hoseok walks towards the park on his own, hands in his pockets.
He catches her aura before he sees her, just a small woman sitting alone on a bench. If he didn’t know her, she might even seem non-threatening like this.
“Jayoung-noona,” he says as he rounds the silhouette on the bench.
“Hoseokie,” she says with a smile as he sits next to her with a sigh.
The river floats on in front of them, air still gray with the hints of winter, but it smells like life; like rain and the first plants of spring.
Jayoung isn’t done up in her normal get up; she’s not the queen of the night, with perfect curls and immaculate red lipstick and harsh eyes; this is Jayoung, his noona, who taught him how to sew a thousand years ago. Her hair falls straight, tangled here and there by the wind coming off the river. The sunstone around her neck catches the light as the sun briefly reaches down between the clouds.
She looks out at the river, and so does Hoseok.
She leans over and briefly bumps his shoulder with hers.
“I hear you got the asshole fucking with those babies.”
Hoseok nods. “Moon Chinhae was his father, actually.”
Jayoung bares her fangs, briefly, before getting herself back under control. “Fucking Jaesung. I should have thought of him before. He’s never been one of my customers, but I know of him. Some of my girls who have side gigs with some…less ethical blood rings have talked shit, I should have listened.”
Hoseok shrugs. “You couldn’t have know, but we got him eventually.”
“You killed him? Made sure he’s Ash?”
Hoseok smiles, and then tries to suppress it like a cool sibling. His mouth twitches. “Seokjin killed him, but I did get to duel the warlock who made the blade that killed Minji. I stole his magic flaming sword, it’s dope as hell.”
Jayoung chokes on a laugh. “Oh my god, flaming magical sword? ” And then, she erupts in laughter. Real laughter, the kind that sounds not-so-sexy and exactly like she did after pushing Hoseok in the river when they were kids.
Hoseok can’t help but join in. For the first time in decades, Hoseok gets to talk his sister like she’s his sister. He tells her, eventually, about Jungkook. She punches him in the shoulder for lying to her, but she gets it. She would do anything to protect her own too.
She tells him about her fledglings, the lives she helped them get away from, the world she’s trying to give to them.
Hoseok tells her about Jungkook, about the baby who fell into their lives with no idea who or what he was but with a fire inside of him, with so much love and life burning inside of him that they couldn’t help but fall in love, too.
She leans against his shoulder and sighs.
“I miss this, Hoseokie. I have family, but you’re—you’re family. I wish—“
“My coven doesn’t hate you, noona,” he reassures, “if you apologized to Seokjin—“
She squawks and sits up straight. “Me, apologize to him? I commissioned the dressmaker before he did, it’s not my fault we showed up wearing the same thing! In fact, I think he should apologize to me! Besides, it was four hundred years ago. I’m past it, he should be too.”
Hoseok laughs with her, and when he goes home it’s with promises to text and dinner plans in a few weeks. And if they also discussed taking down a rival (and much less ethical) blood ring, well, that’s for them to know and for absolutely no one else to find out.
Seokjin wrinkles his nose as the disgusting vampire with Seokjin’s claws in his chest turns to Ash. He had been one of the last remnants of Jaesung’s operations.
He turns his nails to himself and makes a displeased noise. He hates getting Ash under his fingernails, it takes forever to get them fully clean again. He’ll have to make an appointment with his manicurist, it’s been too long since he’d had his cuticles treated anyway. She knows him well enough to not make a big deal at the the vampire detritus under his fingernails.
“Do you need me to make a mani-pedi appointment for you too? I think I’m going to get one tomorrow.” Seokjin says, seemingly to no one.
Hoseok steps out of the shadows at the end of the alley, his aura suppressed but impossible to hide from Seokjin. “I’m okay,” he says, patting the scabbard on his back, “I’ve kept my hands clean. Honestly, I think we should bring swords back. I feel very cool, very badass.”
Seokjin snorts. “I heard this one tell one of his buddies about the avenging angel with the flaming sword who was coming after their souls, you’re getting legendary.”
Hoseok giggles. “That’s so fucking cool, hyung. I’m an avenging angel.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head. The other one said something about a shadow demon, and I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to me.”
Hoseok whistles and saunters up to Seokjin before wrapping his arms around Seokjin from the side and planting a loud kiss on the side of his neck. “Hyung, we’re so cool. An angel and a demon, that’s so sexy.”
Seokjin laughs and turns in his mate’s arms. “My jwe-hope, an angel from hell.” He kisses Hoseok’s nose. “My angel, so good at murder.”
Hoseok laughs and kisses his mate. They’ve been together for millennia, born in the same village, sold their souls together, shared a first kiss and every other first, then shared the second life too. Kissing is not that big of a deal for them. It just is.
They’re about to pull apart and go home when they hear a crash from the warehouse they just finished razing.
Seokjin rolls his eyes and lets his claws extend while Hoseok takes out his outrageous flaming sword. “Let’s get this over with, angel.”
Hoseok grins with that little feral edge Seokjin loves. “Come on, demon. Let’s become legends.”
Seokjin smiles. “I think we already are.”
Jungkook had been clingy when Jimin’s phone rang, all wrapped around his new sire. Jimin had to bring Yoongi in to give Jungkook someone else to hug while he slept so he could deal with whoever needed to speak to him.
He closes the door to the nest room behind him and makes his way out to the living room, where Taehyung has his laptop in front of him, dealing with employee schedules for his shop.
Jimin sits down next to him as he looks at his phone. His eyebrows furrow. “My principal called,” he says, and he hits redial.
She picks up on the first ring. “Oh, Jimin-ssi,” she says, “thank god. Are you doing alright?”
Jimin tilts his head. “Um, I’m okay. Did you need something?” he says, trying to keep the simmering anger out of his voice. He knows it’s not her fault, not really. He still hates sitting at home and knowing his students are missing him somewhere.
“I’ve been watching the news,” she says, “and it’s incredible what your coven mates did. I hope everyone is alright, I’m sure Kim Namjoon-ssi wasn’t giving all the details.”
Jimin’s face relaxes. “Ah, I’m glad he finally got a chance to share the story. It’s been a rough few weeks for my coven and I, thank you for asking. We’re getting through it.” Jimin swallows. “How are my—uh, how are the students doing?” he asks, trying his best to keep his voice casual.
“Jimin-ssi,” she says, “I told you about the complaints in the midst of all of the… attacks.”
Jimin makes an affirmative sound, not trusting himself to speak.
“If I told you that the complaints since you left have doubled, I would be underestimating.”
Jimin’s heart drops. “Ah. I understand,” he says, choked but trying to stay professional, “I would love a chance to—“
“You misunderstand,” she says, “your students are incredibly loyal to you, you know. Apparently half the class threw tantrums when they heard they’d have a sub for a few weeks.” Jimin makes a noise he’s ashamed of as he blinks away tears and covers his mouth. “It takes a lot to make that many five-year-olds lose it. Some of the original complainants wanted to send their apologies as well. And with the tensions falling and Namjoon-ssi’s announcement… well, I guess I’m asking how soon you can come back.”
Jimin does his best to keep his smile under control, keeps it under control so he can keep from squealing. He kicks Taehyung’s foot instead and shares a joyous look with him. Taehyung grins at him and shakes his fist in a silent celebration.
Jimin clears his throat. “I’m going to need a week or so, with, you know, everything my coven has been through in the last few weeks.” Jimin wants to be back tomorrow, but he has to keep some level of power in this. He’s not quite ready to forgive his principal for not backing him up in the first place.
“Of course, ” she says, “your students and I can’t wait to have you back. We miss you.”
Jimin spends a few more minutes ironing out logistics before hanging up.
He looks at Taehyung and finally lets himself smile, big and bright, before falling into Taehyung’s and kicking his feet.
Everything is falling into place, life back on its tracks, and Jimin giggles as he give Taehyung’s neck a playful bite. All is right in the world, or, will be soon.
Jeon Jungkook, 24 years old, born in Busan, stands in front of the house he grew up in.
Everything is different. Jungkook isn’t 24 years old anymore, not really. He’d turned 25 somewhere on the streets before Yoongi and Seokjin found him, he thinks. And the smell—salt and seaweed and gasoline and spicy food—comes to him through different senses. It’s the same smell, but different.
He’s not alone, either. Yoongi holds his hand as they watch the house wake.
Just like every morning, the lights in the kitchen turn on first as Eomma puts on a kettle. He catches her silhouette, cast against the same curtain that’s been across the window for Jungkook’s entire life.
The sun rises over the ocean and Yoongi squeezes Jungkook’s hand.
“Ready?” he asks, and Jungkook breathes in the salt and seaweed and smell of home.
He squeezes back.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” and he lets go of Yoongi’s hand, walks forward, and knocks on the door.