Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s dark.

It’s just… dark.

Taehyung has never seen this dark before. He’s not entirely sure he’s seeing it either. Is it real, or is it just the twists of his cruel mind, blunting his senses, blinding him?

But it’s dark.

Creeping into every essence of his soul, curling tight around his lungs. Suffocating. Thick tar dripping through his veins, pooling out around his crumpled body. He’s drowning. Drowning.

Taehyung can’t move. Can’t breathe. The shallow dip of his own chest as his last breath leaves him is a staggering reminder of his old reality, a memory so fleeting that it seems impossible.

Dark, dark, dark.

And he’s cold.

Taehyung closes his eyes.

It’s still dark. Not as inky as it once was, a gasp of light filling his lungs. Taehyung’s eyelids flutter, creaking open with heaviness. Like a machine, rusted and old, slowly forcing itself back into motion. His pupils dilate as he slowly drinks everything in. The coolness of air against his skin, the burn of the temperature, the sharp scuffle of something by his sides.

The ground is firm underneath him.

He opens his mouth, expecting a breath to rattle into his throat. Scorch at his lungs, filling his body with energy. And yet… there’s… nothing. No rattle, no hitch as his lungs inflate, it’s just… empty. Taehyung closes his mouth silently, his brain slowly ticking, stunned silence befalling over his body.

Is he… alive?

His fingers start to twitch - sluggish, that of his body slowly restarting its nerve connection, fumbling quickly to build himself back together - and they feel around him with tentativeness. Slow, curious. They hit a ridge, something rough in the ground, and further exploration has his fingerpads identifying what it is.

Is it… wood? Maybe that of a tree root, carving out of the ground.

His eyes flick to the right, staring intently above him, drinking in the sight when everything finally focuses. The darkness of bushes - spiky and fierce, cradling his body from nearly every side. Dirt underneath him, a heavy tree stretching upward nearby.

Taehyung’s confused. Overwhelmed, skin crawling with sensations he’s never felt before. Hunger rippling underneath his fingernails, dancing cruelly in his chest. An aching hollow, a cavern so large he isn’t sure it could ever be filled. Ever be sated.

His hand curls tightly into his top, ruined fabric scrunching under his grip, his chest rattling with unneeded breath as he tries to control the brimming panic. The confusion is so, so heavy, eyes flicking all around him, ghosting over the dark silhouettes of trees stretching around him.

Panic, panic, fear.

Where is he? How did he end up here? Clothes torn, neck burning with a rapid fever. Taehyung trembles, curling tightly in on himself as he gasps, shoulders hunched. There’s just… nothing. A gaping emptiness in his mind, a completely blank slate. And no matter how far he tries to reach, scratching at the sheets of white, there’s just nothing.

No flicker of memory, a recount of the events that led him here, nothing. He knows his name, thank god, but anything else? Just an emptiness, a desert without sand. It hurts trying to reach, spinning in circles as he searches for something, anything.

Taehyung doesn’t remember.

And that is making him panic even more.

He has no identity, no rooting thoughts, no origin. He’s just here, lying among twisted roots in a strange, foreign forest that he can’t fucking remember, his neck burning something terrible. He raises his hands up, shaking, eyes scanning over his flesh and-

Taehyung’s eyes brim with tears.

Amidst the dark, the confused glaze that lies over his vision, he can see. See the ruins that are his hands. Bloody, torn, fingernails ripped as if he’d been fighting. Struggling, nails scratching at something, someone as he’d screamed. Taehyung squeezes his eyes closed tightly, his bottom lip trembling as his entire body begins to ache. His knees - bruised and battered, long scratches down his lower arms, defensive wounds coating his legs.

Like he’d been fighting for his life, struggling with something vicious and he just-

He just…

Can’t remember.

He feels so… small. A baby bird abandoned, curled cold without the protection of a nest. He sinks a bit deeper into the bush he’s propped against, eyes wet. Eyelashes shimmering.

And then there’s the hunger.

Even if Taehyung could reach his memories, ones that he hopes are locked somewhere in the confines of his brain, he isn’t sure he would find anything to compare to this screaming pain. A stabbing sensation in his stomach, dehydration stinging in his throat. Like his mouth is being sandpapered, gums being pressed with a hot poker.

It fucking hurts.

Taehyung growls, a noise that tears at his already tender throat, vibrating in his chest. He threads his bloody fingers past his lips, pressing desperately at his gums, hoping, begging that it will help. Relieve the lava gushing over his tongue, the thirst so violent that he can feel bile stinging at his throat.

His fingers need something sharp, sharp enough to cut into his fingerpads, iron salty in his mouth as his fingers begin to bleed again. He whimpers, thrashing outward, crying loudly as his spine curls.

What’s- what’s happening?

It burns, and maybe this is why he can’t remember anything, because his mind is clouding again, bristling with light. Taehyung wants to scream, cry, peel his skin off, anything, anything to relieve the pain. The hunger, the ache of his wound, the way his neck is prickling with acid, everything is too much, too much and-

Light. And it’s not the bright light that is scolding him from the inside, no. This one is an orange glow, the gentleness of something like candlelight. A lantern, maybe? It doesn’t burn him, doesn’t hurt his eyes as he cracks them open, pupils dilating.

Taehyung whimpers, knees tightening to his chest as he stares out with fearful eyes. Pressed tightly in on himself, hoping, begging that this floating lantern - cracking through the towering bushes nearby - will allow him to remain unseen.

Lets him die alone in his darkness, drowning in the scent of his own hunger. His own thirst.

It grows closer and closer, his pupils dilating the more intense the light becomes, sharp teeth daring to poke out from his lips in preparation for a snarl. Preparing to be attacked, to have to once again fight for his life. Just like those memories, those moments that have left his body dysfunctional.

FUCK!

His hands tighten, shoulder moving slightly to obscure in front of his body, teeth gritted and-

It’s here.

The bushes in front of him part, and someone, no, multiple people step onto the twisting ground with lightness. So lightly in fact, that it’s rather shocking. As if these people are made of air, that, or they’re afraid of disturbing the slumber of the forest.

They’re shrouded in black, and no, not just that of the night, but in black cloaks. Warm, wrapped tightly around their shoulders. One of them is holding a lantern in one hand, one built of thick metal, and must be reasonably heavy, yet they’re carrying it with ease.

That warm glow lights up Taehyung’s little clearing and he’s whimpering, shrinking further back on himself in fear. A tiny hiss filters from in between his teeth, a lame attempt at making himself seem threatening.

It doesn’t work.

The figures have frozen, dark hooded heads staring in his direction. Quiet. He’s sure they’re blinking at him, and that makes him shudder. Taehyung’s too tired, and it hurts too much to even think about moving, and, and-

He whines lowly, baring his neck a little as it twinges painfully. It feels stiff, as though something has long crusted into his skin and-

Taehyung raises a hand to cover his face, peeking out from between his fingers, trembling as he expects these strangers to lunge at him. He’s not a fool - he can see the glint of steel hidden underneath one of their cloaks, reflecting in the light of the lantern.

Instead, the opposite happens.

“Fuck.” Someone mutters, and it’s a low, gravelly voice. With widened eyes, Taehyung watches as one of these strangers reaches up and pushes his hood back - revealing dark brown hair, and wide, shocked eyes.

“Hyung, that’s a-”

“I know. Fuck, how did he- he long has he been alone?”

Taehyung eyes flick between them, from the face bathed in light to the one still hidden by the thickness of his cloak. As he looks, frightened enough to push the starving hunger to the side for just a moment, the faced figure slowly crouches down.

He shudders, whimpering in confusion.

His eyes flick back to the hidden figure, how the hood has twitched to one side gently, and if they’re observing him, and it’s scary-

“Hi.” It’s said in a purr, a voice lullabied with calm, “Hi, little one.”

Taehyung’s eyes shoot back to the crouched man, a gentle smile now curving at his lips. He isn’t entirely sure what to feel. The need to flinch away, and protect himself is running violently through his body but.. his man smells… good?

Good, comforting, like a plush blanket on a cold night. He can already feel his eyelids growing heavier, his body inching forward as he whimpers.

The man smiles wider, shuffling closer with slow movements. Taehyung blinks at him slowly, his hand falling from his face.

“Are you tired, little one?” The man asks sympathetically, shuffling another step closer, “How did you get here?”

“I don’t-” Taehyung’s voice is hoarse, croaky, and grating. His eyes are growing damp again at the implications, at the emptiness in his head, “I don’t know.” His voice breaks.

“That’s okay,” The man smooths quickly, that same, calm smile on his face, “That’s okay. You’re okay now, baby. We’ve got you.”

Taehyung whines, a lone tear trickling down his cheek as he closes his eyes, braces as the man’s hand moves toward him slowly and-

A palm is cool against his cheek, cupping his face with tenderness. His eyes are peeling back open, stunned and dilated, the man’s smile widening as he cradles his face softly. He strokes Taehyung’s cheek as if he knows him, as if Taehyung is something precious, a treasure to be cradled. And then slowly, without releasing his cheek, the man moves to smoothly pull the cloak off of his shoulders.

He’s dressed in relaxed clothing underneath, silken in nature, as if he had been resting and the exposed skin of his wrists and ankles are extremely pale.

He moves to drag the cloak around Taehyung’s shoulders, tucking it tightly under his chin. Taehyung is stunned silently, chest and stomach settling. Although, now that the hunger has lessened, frailed away silently, it’s clear to him.

There’s something else in his chest. Not a pain, no, a kind of tugging. As if there’s a rope pulled taut inside him, restraining something. An emptiness, a cool place that is simply missing. As if his body is yearning for something his mind can’t remember, crying out for something long lost to the abyss of time.

Someone is missing.

Someone?

The stranger has shuffled closer now, arms gently looping around Taehyung’s back, moving him into his lap. Taehyung can’t find it in himself to struggle, to resist, pliantly going with it, head resting against the man’s chest dully.

The man has started stroking his hair, cooing to him in a soft tone, other hand trying to rub some warmth into the exposed, and not bloody skin of his legs.

“Jin-Hyung is coming,” The low voice says again, startling Taehyung. He’d honestly forgotten the other man, too entranced by the embrace of cooled hands.

“Trust this to happen on the one night he’s away,” the cradling man sighs, tipping Taehyung’s head back delicately. They lock eyes, the man smiling encouragingly at him.

“Do you know your name, sweet one?” He murmurs, and Taehyung tears up in relief. That’s the one thing he can remember, the only thing.

“Kim,” he sobs, “Kim Taehyung.”

Chapter Text

The forest is quickly growing distant, its fading darkness losing its cold grip on Taehyung’s chest with every step he’s carried. His eyes, lulled and heavy, stay trained on the treeline - how it howls against its border, craning after him with clawed hands. It can’t reach him here, wouldn’t dare to - not when he’s cradled in the arms of this kind stranger, pressed chest to chest with his chin resting on a cool shoulder. 

He’s tired. Safety, the feeling of it, the rush of all the panic, frightening horror leaving his body, is an utterly exhausting sensation. He’s safe now. He knows that much. They could have struck him down, sliced his throat the second they found him. And the fact that they didn’t, no, instead, one of them pulled him into their lap, soothed him with cool hands and a warm tone. So… he must mean something. 

The thought of death, that cold grip on his lungs, has disappeared now. 

Blind trust. 

Maybe it’s stupid, a final desperate attempt of his worn body, but it’s the only thing he has right now. The only thing to hang onto. 

And it’s…. Nice. 

For some reason, he’s settled easily. His entire body melting, his brain growing lax as all his joints had turned to jelly. As if his body had finally clicked home, a gear into a broken machine, a plug returning to a socket. 

But it’s there. 

In the center of his chest. Hollow, a dripping pit of searing tar, a spiraling whirlpool so deep that it feels as if his ribs are screaming. An emptiness. An endless pit, on that he hangs onto the edge of desperately, tears in his eyes as he clings on. 

He’s missing something. 

Someone. 

Like a part of him has been ripped away - bleeding and raw. A vulnerable part of him is gone, torn from his chest and it hurts. 

But Taehyung doesn't know what it is. 

Who it is. 

Even if it is a who. 

“-get inside.” The low voice interrupts Taehyung’s thoughts, the dissection of the pulsing flesh of pain in his chest. How long have they been talking, and he simply just hasn’t noticed? The man carrying him hums, adjusting his grip on Taehyung’s thighs lightly. He slips a little deeper into the realm of safety. 

“I guess we just have to hope that Hyung allows it. If not, we might have to set up something in the greenhouse… you know how the house gets.” 

A grunt, the click of the lantern as it swings. “Suppose we can’t exactly get upset at it though, can we?”

The man carrying him lets out a light laugh, airy and filled with squeaks. It’s strangely comforting, to be honest, and Taehyung finds it harder and harder to cling to consciousness the more they murmur. Their boots click in the grass as they continue to move uphill, Taehyung’s eyes beginning to lull closed again. He’s tired, so, so tired. His head hurts, his neck throbbing something bad. And it’s starting up again. A painful gripping in his stomach, his throat, like searing iron, a band tightening. He whimpers quietly, pressing a little closer to the stranger. 

A cool hand moves to stroke down his spine, hushing him gently. 

“We’re almost inside, little one. You’ll feel a lot better in there.” There’s something heavy, unspoken hanging in the air, but Taehyung is too tired to ask. No, he just presses his chin in a little more harshly as their boots hit wood, craning upwards as they move smoothly up a small set of stairs. 

His body feels heavy. 

“Thank you,” He hears the stranger say quietly, the lantern clicking again as his steps grow distant. They’re alone, standing quietly in the night wind, the stranger holding him humming quietly. Soothing him whilst they wait. But wait for what? Taehyung wonders sleepily, his mouth thick. He doesn’t have time to think about it though, because those footsteps reappear, slow and calculated, and then the voice rings out again. 

“Okay, Hobi-ah, you can try bringing him inside.”

“Here goes nothing!” The man says cheerily, stepping forward confidently. Taehyung doesn’t even have time to ask about the warning in their tones, the unspoken words in the air, because his eyes are drinking in the doorframe - specifically, stepping through it. It’s a lovely, dark wood, the door itself grooved with a beautiful, swirling design. 

Fresh air in his lungs, a warm blanket curling over his shoulders. If Taehyung felt calm before - curled in the arms of these men, this new feeling is a hundred times better. As if he’s being welcomed home, belonging. 

He barely notices the silence. 

“Well.” 

A heavy pause. 

“That’s surprising.” 

“I’m not going to argue with it,” The man says cheerfully, stroking down Taehyung’s back again, “Thank you!” 

It might be Taehyung’s imagination, but the house seems to groan around them, the walls rattling. From what he can see, eyes heavy and eyelids drooping, the house is beautiful. Even blurry. Darkened, glowing wood that stretches toward the ceiling, soft golden light that hangs from somewhere above him. There’s a coat rack by the door - hung from it multiple thick coats, a large collection of heavy-looking scarves surrendering to gravity. There’s a collection of shoes sitting neatly next to a doormat. 

Home. 

“-feed him first.”

Feed? 

Food?

His stomach churns at the thought. Everything is moving too fast. He was just outside a moment ago, had made his tomb between dirt and grass. And now he’s inside somewhere, somewhere unfamiliar yet scarily comforting, being carried down a long corridor that his eyes can’t absorb. 

Acid is a familiar friend at the back of his mouth.

He wants to go home. 

But where is it?

The armchair is soft against his skin and a fleeting thought, a fear of getting it muddy, the crusted blood on his skin crosses his mind. But Taehyung doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no, not when that familiar stranger is sliding onto the chair with him, collecting Taehyung tightly in his arms. It takes nothing to melt, tuck his head underneath this man’s chin and curl into him like a cat. 

Held. 

Home. 

Is it?

The chair is a deep red, warmth flickering over his skin from a previously-unseen, crackling fireplace just a few metres from him. Fingers are knitting into his hair, Taehyung’s eyes glazing as his mind collapses in on itself. It’s warm here and the hollowing in his chest hurts just a little less. He can ignore the whispering breeze, the space in between his ribs here. Just for a moment. 

“Baby, can you let him sit up? He has to drink this.” The stranger grumbles a little but gently helps Taehyung to sit up a little more - despite his complaints. He doesn’t want to. He just wants to go to sleep! Ignore the prickling acid in the back of his mouth, he’s just- tired, tired, tired-

Something warmed, hot against his fingers in being pressed into his palm. There’s a stranger in front of him, an actual stranger. A messy mop of blurry black hair, small cat-like eyes that stare at him plainly. 

“Can you drink for me?”

Oh.

Oh. 

It’s him. The one with the lantern. 

Taehyung’s eyes drop to the cup slowly, blinking carefully. The liquid is thick, a deep red colour like the armchair. He raises it to his lips thoughtlessly, tipping it back. It’s warm, thick over his lips as it spills into his mouth and-

Hunger. 

Hotter than the flames of the fireplace, a burning so intense in his throat that his skin might be melting. He’s swallowing hungrily, viciously, trying to quench the sudden thirst that has erupted over his skin. But it’s not enough. Not enough when the cup drains, when he licks at the cup with a strangled, upset growl, trying to find more, feed, feed as his mind draws blank and-

Fingers are tight on his chin, tipping his head up, urging his mouth away from the ceramics.

“You’ve had enough.” The voice comes - and it’s that familiar, kind tone, yet it’s firm. Telling, a commanding tone that has Taehyung’s skin rippling. His fingers are releasing the mug instantly, watching dully as it's carried away from him, the black-haired man disappearing with it down the glowing corridor. 

He wants it, he does, but…

Being told, told to stop, it’s as if a set of iron bars has slammed down over his mind. Firm, commanding. He’s had enough. 

Taehyung settles back into the welcoming arms, eyes lulling closed as those fingers resume their gentle petting of his hair. He feels warm enough, safe enough to sleep here. And the ache underneath his gums is gone, banished from his body and everything is settling-

A creak hits his ears and Taehyung shoots upright, spine tense and eyes searching. 

A door, tucked perfectly in the wall is now open inward, displaying the hidden corridor behind it. And, perched in the center of it, a large graphic t-shirt hanging off of a small frame stands a boy. 

Their eyes meet, curious and big. Taehyung blinks slowly, his body losing its tension as Hoseok grips at the nape of his neck firmly. Who.. who is this? This boy who is staring at him with such confusion, such curiosity, strays a few steps closer to them. 

Something, a siren call is buzzing in the tense air. 

Hoseok’s other hand moves to grab Taehyung’s wrist tightly. The wrist to a hand that was unconsciously moving. 

“Hyung,” The young one says slowly, big eyes staring at Taehyung with curiosity, “Who is…who is this?”

“Jungkook.” The man says warningly, hand tightening on Taehyung’s wrist as he flinches, lunging a little towards the new presence. This one calls to him. Like a beacon in the dark, an unexplainable urge to grasp, to take. 

“Jungkook.” The man repeats sternly as the boy, Jungkook steps forward a few steps, fingers floating hesitantly in the air, just a few centimeters away from Taehyung’s grasping hand. 

“ Jungkook.” 

Their fingers touch, sliding together in an awkward hold, and Taehyung gasps, eyes lighting up with tears as a shock jolts down his spine. 

Click, click, click. The sound of his mind collapsing in on itself as they tighten their grip on one another, eyes blown wide. Like molten lava is trickling between their fingers. A bond. A lightning rod between their fluttering chests, a warm sensation in their toes, and Taehyung can’t look away, he can’t, he can’t-

“Fucking hell-” 

“I think it’s time for bed,” That low voice cuts in, hand sliding down Jungkook’s arm to gently break their hands apart, intertwine the boy’s in his own, “Hoseok, if you could-” 

Taehyung is being bundled up, cradled in cool arms as the man, the stranger, Hoseok lifts him up smoothly, bringing a thick blanket with them. As they walk, carried out into a new, gorgeous corridor with a staircase disappearing upward, Taehyung can hear Jungkook whimper. Whining against the wood of the house. And, glancing back, desperate, calling, a chirp slipping from his throat, he can see Jungkook held tightly in the stranger’s grip, being soothed with whispered words and gentle gestures. 

Their eyes connect.

A static connection. 

He’s not allowed to dwell on it though, carried away in firm, long strides, up that hidden staircase and past portraits on the walls. His mind is blurring, everything melting around him. There’s no time to delight in the beauty of the house, drink in the jewels, no, no, because that boy, that boy was something, something to him, and they’ve taken them away from each other-

“I know, I know,” the words are murmured to him, a hand stroking through his hair as he’s pressed back onto something soft. A bed? How did he get here?

“It’s so confusing right now.”

Confusing? To say the least. The world seems to be dripping away from him, his mind choosing to blank certain moments out. His limbs have never moved and yet the rooms have changed. The whole world is flashing by in shades of distorted black and white and the hole in his chest is just getting deeper and deeper, an ever-present, devastating gnaw of loss. 

“Everything will be better when you wake up,” Hoseok tells him, tucking him in gently, looking at him with tender, concerned eyes. Taehyung blinks slowly.

His neck hurts, his gums ache.

Hot coals in his throat.

Emptiness in his chest. 

“Sleep well,” Hoseok whispers, smoothing his palm gently over Taehyung’s eyelids, closing them gently. 

Sleep overtakes in a mere moment, settling deep into his heavy bones. 

----

His nose…. Is… tingling. Growing more and more by the second, an insistent, warm tingle that zaps up his nose, his top lip curling up as his body tenses. 

Taehyung sneezes, sniffling a little as he groans groggily. 

His nose itches something terrible and… reality fades into his skin like an old, sun-drunken tattoo, slowly tracing itself back onto his skin. The woods, the dirt in his mouth, the darkness so suffocating that it stained the very pupils of his eyes. And then the cool hands, the warm, tinkling laughter, and Hoseok, the strangers, Yoongi, Jungkook-

His eyes open slowly, crooked and rusted, sight blurring into his sleepy mind. The room is fairly dark, the presence of golden light sheltered behind thick curtains. The bed sheets smooth on his skin, nose breathing in a soft, pleasant scent. 

His neck doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t itch, doesn’t seem to be crusted anymore. 

And there’s that hunger, that thirst under his gums, but it isn’t urgent. Isn’t gnawing. The everpresent tomb in his chest rattles quietly. 

He quickly locates the source of his awakening sneeze - the irritant to his nose, the hand to pull him out from his peaceful slumber. Fluffy black hair, slightly curling in an elegant, sleepy wave is rubbing gently against his chin. The more he sinks into his skin, Taehyung’s senses returning to him, the more he feels. The arms looped tightly around his body, the head nuzzled into his chest. His own arms curled tightly around someone’s body, pressing them flush together, his leg shoved in between a foreign pair. 

Taehyung should be panicking. 

But he isn’t.

Quite the opposite. His mind is empty, not swirling with thoughts, not fearful of his strange surroundings. Maybe a tumbleweed rolls past. Strangely quiet, a quiet he never would have suspected given his state yesterday. But even though Taehyung searches, probes deeper into his mind with furrowed eyebrows, he can’t even try to make himself panic. 

No, instead, Taehyung just finds his body settling, his eyelids growing heavy again. Unconsciously, he nuzzles back into the boy’s hair, relishing in the cool, rhythmic breaths of air being blown on his neck. He’s tired, so, so tired, and it just feels right to be here. Curled together, arms tight around waists as they sleep. 

The thought doesn't even cross Taehyung’s mind that he doesn’t even know the boy. Doesn’t know Jungkook.

It doesn’t matter. 

Not when the gaping hollow seems to tame a little in his presence. 

His eyelids grow heavier. 

Peaceful and-

Taehyung’s eyes shoot open as his heart jumps. Right into his throat, screaming in his ears. The room seems to fill with thick, oozing liquid, gushing into his ears, his mouth. A sudden weight on his shoulders, a fright so terrifying that his tongue swells in his mouth. 

Something is happening. The very house around him is whispering, distorting in its frames. 

“Come nightfall,” a new voice, one that cuts right to Taehyung’s bones, says, “He’s leaving. You can take him to one of the neighbouring covens.” He looks around wildly, gripping tightly at the bed sheets. Where- where are these people? 

“Hyung,” but the voice is weak as if this argument has been ongoing for a while. Hoseok. 

“We can’t , we found him, we can’t just abandon him like-”

“Kim Hoseok,” that booming voice comes, ringing out as if the walls of the house are its own, personal speaker. Like it wants Taehyung to hear this. 

“You brought a stranger into my home. Into my coven. Without me here. Do you understand what potential danger you could have put yourselves in?” 

“We know, but Namjoon was barely fifteen minutes away and we had it under control. We can’t just make him leave, not when Jungkook has seen him, bonded-” The voice cuts itself off quickly, but the damage seems to be done. 

The floorboards shake as Taehyung’s eyes bead with tears, throat swollen and closed. 

“You allowed,” and the whole house trembles, whimpers spilling from Taehyung’s throat as the nearby dresser’s drawers begin to move sporadically, the window panes creak, “ my nestling,” the voice snarls, angry and blood-curdling, “to bond with a random stranger?!” 

“Another nestling,” Yoongi’s voice rings back, similar in that it’s muffled, filtered out as if the house itself is speaking for this new stranger, “He bonded with another nestling, hyung, you can’t just-”

“He’s not staying.” The voice says and the very house quakes at his firm tone, the sound of shattering glass ringing out from somewhere deeper in the structure. Yoongi and Hoseok have fallen silent, tension thick in the air. With teary eyes and a trembling chest, Taehyung gnaws painfully at his nails, heart heavy. The walls are impossibly blank around him, staring at him.

He doesn’t- he doesn’t want to make any problems. He’ll leave, he will, he doesn’t- just please, please don’t hurt him-

“Hyung,” that other familiar voice comes, soft and coaxing, “You can’t just make him leave. Hoseok, Yoongi-hyung, Jungkookie, they’ve all-”

“ Namjoon.” 

The voice falls dead silent. 

Taehyung’s brain is blurring. 

“Where is he?”

The answer is nothing but static. But the ringing, slow footsteps of someone walking toward him, toward his room is like the roar of the ocean. Crashing, pulling him under. Drowning. 

Seconds later, his eyes are locking onto the doorknob as it twists. Trembling, fingers curling tightly into the nestling in his arms. Whatever that means. He doesn’t know, everything is just beyond him, he doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand anything! 

Taehyung wants to hide underneath the blanket. Wake the boy in his arms and beg for protection. But all he can do is swallow back his nausea as the door slowly swings open. 

Fluffy hair, glasses perched high on his nose. Dressed in a fine button shirt and relaxed slacks, the man’s hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment. 

A shaky exhale has Taehyung eyes shooting to the man’s face. To his glowing eyes. 

Their eyes lock. Taehyung’s breath catches in his throat, tears lulling for a moment, fingers curling tighter into the blanket. The stranger is frozen for a moment, mouth opening slowly, closing, to open again a moment later. 

“He’s staying, hyung.” 

“Namjoon,” that world-shaking voice sighs, tender and understanding, and Taehyung’s throat tightens painfully as he watches a hand gently curl around the man’s upper room, and a new figure is gliding into the doorframe. Towering, dark, the very shadows of the corridor seem to contort around this new figure. Taehyung’s nerves are in his throat, a whimper spilling from his lip as he clutches at Jungkook tighter, tighter, afraid, so, so afraid and-

Dark red glowing eyes boar into his own. 

Electricity crackles in the air. 

And all that tension, that fear, the trembling of the floorboards, and the violent, blazing tears in Taehyung’s eyes… it all drains away. His body slumps in a wash of relief, eyes lidden as his body unconsciously melts back into the bed. Jungkook snuffles, nosing deeper into his throat. 

“Yoongi,” The stranger says softly, not daring to break the eye contact held between them, “Could you find me some letter paper, please, darling? I shall have to delay my meeting with the council.” 

“ Hyung,” the other stranger, Namjoon, whispers, voice strangled and tight. 

“He’s staying,” The cloaked stranger says firmly, a gavel banging on a verdict, his eyes glowing a dark, dark red, “He’s mine.” 

Chapter Text

He’s comfortable. Though his head is empty, completely and thoroughly so, there’s a part of Taehyung that is convinced he has never been this comfortable in his life. As if every particle in his body has finally settled, his organs laying to rest. His body simply being without any of the burdens of being alive, without any of that intoxicating panic. 

It’s… peaceful. 

Taehyung blinks - slow and shallow - his hand slowly blurring into vision. His skin is pale, his hand almost feeling not his own as he slowly flexes it. Curls his fingers in, fingers out. Is this really his hand? Why is it so disjointed from his body? Why is he so disjointed from his body?

Piercing red eyes, ones that dig deep into his soul, slow his sluggish blood, pierce into his flesh and-

Jungkook. 

That same, disjointed hand is limply falling onto the bed beside him, fingers slowly wriggling around. The sheets are smooth, comfortable - but they’re cold, empty. The boy that was once in his bed, tucked up underneath his chin… is gone. Long gone. A whine rips from deep in Taehyung’s throat as he struggles to raise himself up onto his elbows, heavy eyes scanning over the empty bed to ensure that the boy is really, truly gone. 

He is. 

Taehyung is alone. 

Oh. 

He doesn’t like that. 

All that comfort, the serene feeling of simple emptiness is banished from his mind within a moment, leaving Taehyung thick with a wave of unease, of contempt and anxiety. The bed is much too empty, much too large, and without that stranger Jungkook in the bed… it’s as if part of Taehyung - one of the few parts of himself that are left, tied together with fraying ribbon - has been brutally ripped away. 

He almost slips as he tumbles from the bed, feet scraping against the hard wooden floor as he makes his way rather desperately toward the door. The fleeting thought of “it might be locked” crossed his mind for a split second, but it disintegrates the moment the door handle clicks in his grasp, and the door swings open. 

What is the world? What is he? It’s as if his body doesn’t fit him anymore as he stumbles down the corridor, gasping without air. Now that he’s up, conscious, it’s so, so painful. 

Everything burns. His gums, his mouth, his stomach, everything, and nothing is being torn apart and stitched back together with staples. His gums are aching as if someone has jammed a fork deep into his gums, his stomach is curling with awful waves of acidic nausea. He can’t- it all-

And above everything else, the curling pain, the searing burn, he’s empty. It aches right down in his gut, a bloody, raw hole where something is supposed to be. Ripped open and exposed to salt. 

It’s agonizing. 

His feet are numb, fumbling down the stairs like a newborn deer, fingernails digging deep into the banister as he manages to steady himself on the carpet below. Taehyung’s head turns sharply, following an unknown instinct, a tugging in his chest that leads him toward a door. His fingers are too big, swollen as he fiddles with the doorknob, a desperate noise spilling from his mouth. Taehyung manages to slam it open, almost stumbling head-first into the room, and when his eyes raise-

A sound rips from Jungkook’s throat - some sort of high-pitched trill as the man struggles from where he w as sitting, curled on one of the other men’s laps. It looked as though he was comfortable, eyes lulling slowly when Taehyung had burst through the door - but now he’s calling to him, communicating to each other in unintelligible sounds, moving toward each other-

Time slows for a moment as Jungkook crashes into him, hard. The world rocks as Taehyung caters backward, arms splintering tight around the man in his arms, his own ribs cracking under pressure as they fall backward. 

“Woah, babies, the floor can’t be that comfortable.” The voice is familiar, not one that Taehyung can place a name to instantly though. He’s lifted off of the ground as if he’s a feather, Jungkook awkwardly curled around him and carried over the room. The world sways a little as the man buries into his throat, trilling to him quietly. Who - Taehyung looks up, eyes widening a little as he sees a semi-familiar face. Fleeting in his doorway, stumbled words and his name is… Nam... Namjoon? 

He doesn’t get to dwell on it though, as they’re being placed down on the couch in a jumbled pile of limbs, Namjoon laughing at them as they squirm, try to right themselves into a comfortable cuddling position. Here, here, with his mouth just above Jungkook’s ear, arms tight around his back it’s… it’s better. That aching hollow is still there, not even slightly weakened, maybe a little numbed in this stranger's presence but… 

It’s all settling again. Fog over his mind, a soothing balm over his swollen gums. His eyes are lulling again as Jungkook sniffles quietly, moves a leg to curl around his waist awkwardly. 

“ Aren’t they cute?” Someone murmurs from somewhere, but Taehyung is too tired to identify who, just sinking deeper into the plush cushions. It’s all a bit too much right now, that stinging at the back of his mouth is still there, but it’s alright-

Something slams and Taehyung jumps, jolting the cuddling body on top of him so violently that Jungkook whimpers, claws at his shoulder. 

“Sorry!” Namjoon whispers as he stands awkwardly in the now-closed doorway, all eyes of the room glaring toward him. Taehyung tries to settle once the man has walked across the room, and tries to sink back into the calm embrace but… he’s awake now. His mind alert and jumpy. So he instead settles to look around the room quietly, swallowing back the acid that is burning at his tongue. 

That’s... That’s Hoseok, sitting in an armchair with a book, Namjoon is standing somewhere behind them, quiet and watching. Who… who’s missing? Yoongi and… Seok.. Jin? 

Seokjin was the super scary red-eyed peeling flesh-from-bones one, right?

He hums somewhere in his chest, settling back a little more onto the couch. Taehyung blinks slowly, frowning a little as his eyes don’t ache, but he doesn’t remember blinking since he woke up earlier and-

Taehyung shudders with a squeak, hitting Jungkook roughly in the back as he startles. Namjoon flinches back from where he was a body-less head over the couch, whispering out apologies. Hoseok is laughing somewhere as Taehyung shudders again, grips at Jungkook’s back. 

He’s.. he’s-

Hungry? 

“They need breakfast.” The voice comes out of nowhere making Taehyung jump again, looking around the room urgently as someone grumbles. 

Jungkook is slowly being peeled off of him, but it’s not without a fuss. The two of them whine, Jungkook arguing with Hoseok in a low, hostile tone. One that disappears after one slightly unimpressed look from the man. Namjoon is at Taehyung’s elbow, guiding him away through a different doorway. He barely has time to look back, and catch a glimpse of the three still remaining in the living space. 

Jungkook looks upset. 

The scraping of wood has his head returning to its forward gaze, eyes widening as Namjoon holds the back of a very grand, very intricate wooden chair. He gestures for Taehyung to sit with a smile, pushing him in after he has done so. Anxiety is rich behind his teeth, Taehyung’s knee jiggling underneath the table as he watches Namjoon glide away, leaving him alone. 

Taehyung isn't… isn't hungry though. There’s no grumbling of his stomach, no painful curl for nutrients. So why? Surely, if he’s not hungry, these strangers won’t make him eat? That would be unfair…

Something clicks against the floor and Taehyung’s head moves in that direction, heart tightening when he sees the man walking through the doorway. Tall, menacing, dress in relaxed light clothing. Awfully contrasting to his presence, the way the shadows in the room squeal and run for cover. 

Seokjin. 

The man walks toward him, seemingly not noticing his nervousness, the way he flinches back into the chair, draws himself into a tiny ball. No, he just smiles gently at Taehyung, tentatively, extending his hand. 

“Here.”

“What…what is it?” Taehyung asks slowly, taking the cup with tentative fingers. He can’t see into it, it’s completely sealed shut. The only option is to drink. But why should he? The last time he saw this man, he spoke of getting rid of Taehyung. So why should he-

“That doesn’t matter, sweetheart. You’ll feel better once you’ve tried some. Go on.”

He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but… there’s something in his chest. It isn’t painful, isn’t that burrowing yearning that sits deep in his gut. No, it’s something calming, a balm over his anxious mind. Somewhere deep inside him, among the center of his bones, he knows this man is telling the truth. He just knows it. In the man’s tone, his voice, the way he sits elegantly in one of the nearby chairs, watching him with observant eyes. 

Taehyung raises the cup. Takes the straw into his mouth slowly, tracing it with his tongue. 

Drinks. 

Bliss. 

It’s nothing and it’s everything. Painful explosions in his mouth yet it’s ice down his spine, soothing his tired mind. The only goal, the only thing Taehyung can think of is to drink. Drink, more, more, more, more. He suckles at the straw hungrily, desperately, swallowing it down so messily that it begins to drip over his lips, splashing onto the table. It’s everything, everything, delicious, delicious, he needs more, more-

The straw makes a hollow sucking sound and he freezes. Slowly draws it away from his mouth and stares at it, chest empty. It’s… there’s no… more? His desperate blackened eyes flick up to the man at the table, licking at his lips, an urgent whine bubbling in his throat. 

The man raises an eyebrow slowly. 

“P- please?” Taehyung asks. 

The man’s eyes widen and he’s rising, stepping toward him, another cup appearing in his hand. Taehyung takes it carefully, immediately sucking at it urgently, allowing his eyes to roll back. It’s so warm, so smooth in his mouth. Rolls over his tongue in such a comforting manner. More, more, more, he needs more, he’ll never have enough - he can never stop drinking, he needs more, more- 

“That’s enough, darling.” Someone is prying the cup from his hands as he growls, bares his teeth, “You’ve had enough. Be good.” 

The tone is so firm, so grounding that Taehyung freezes, can only tremble as someone wipes at his lips carefully. Seokjin folds the handkerchief and steps away, looking at him with curious eyes. Taehyung watches as the cup disappears behind his back, swallowing down the hot desire. He’s had enough. No more. 

That… that pain in his throat… is… gone?

His eyelids flutter, stunned as he swallows. No pain at all, no aching thirst. His gums still throb a little, but it’s nothing to what it was before. Why… how-?

“What- what is happening to me?” Taehyung croaks, his eyes burning with fresh tears. He can see how Seokjin looks at him sympathetically, putting that folded handkerchief into his pocket. 

“I’m sorry. This must be so scary for you, isn’t it, sweetheart? Don’t cry, you don’t have enough- enough energy for that. You’re alright. You’re safe here.”

His eyes drop to his lap. To his hand that is curled there. It’s so, so pale, almost white against the trousers he’s wearing. He doesn’t even remember getting dressed. Slowly, slowly, he raises his (is it his?) hand in front of his face. It’s almost translucent in the dulled light. The clinking of glassware from nearby startles him a little, his eyes moving to an empty doorway. Who-?

Wait. 

A stone drops deep into his stomach. 

Somewhere in the shadowy curls of his barren mind, he knows. 

“What… what am I?” Taehyung asks, his voice cracking into a splintering tone of devastation, pure loss. The clinking of glassware stops from the other room, leaving him shriveling deeper into his chair, fingers curling into his legs painfully. 

Seokjin’s eyes are red as he slowly stands, moving toward him in a calm fashion. 

“You’re mine, my dear.”

“Then.. then what are we?” 

Seokjin’s face twists - something of hesitation, caution, and he pats Taehyung’s hair softly, running a thumb over his cheek. Taehyung can’t help but lean into the touch, feel the burning churn of acid in his stomach as he impatiently waits for the man’s answers.

The air is heavy, suffocating. 

He already knows. 

“I think you already know,” Seokjin says gently, stroking his cheek, “We’re vampires, my darling.” 

The world ticks to a stop, the hand of a grandfather clock chiming in place. Taehyung can’t breathe. Of course, he knew that - but this man, no, this vampire confirming it is like a stake to the gut. Bile in his throat, burning tears in his eyes. 

No. N-no! 

This mind might be a wasteland, utterly dark and laced with barbed wire - but there are enough pieces there to remember the bare strands of society. The coexistant of creature and human, of monster and mammal. He’s never- seen them in flashes in the darkness of alleyways, hidden from the human eye, but he never thought he would- Taehyung has never gone near one of those dreadful places, has never put himself on the delicate line that runs between their species so why, why-! 

That cold yearning in his gut burrows deeper, agony down his calves. 

And Seokjin says it so simply, as if he will adapt, as if becoming such a vile creature, to be held in a house filled with them is a good thing-! 

Taehyung doesn’t realize he’s crying until Seokjin gently strokes his cheek with a finger, skin coming back bloody. 

“Oh, darling,” The vampire says softly, drawing out that handkerchief to dab at his cheeks as Taehyung howls, “I know. It’s quite frightening, isn’t it? But you’re here now, you’re mine. I’ll help you.” 

He’s more than frightened, he’s traumatized, he’s utterly empty, and doesn’t even know who the fuck he is! And yet Taehyung stretches out his arms, allowing this strange vampire to collect him easily into his arms and soothe him. He’s hushed as he’s rocked, the vampire stroking down his back. 

“You’re mine now, my dear. Don’t fret.” 

----

“Nothing? Nothing at all?” Jungkook squeaks, eyes as round as saucers as he stares up at Taehyung with big eyes. He’s sitting on the floor (well, on a cushion, as Hoseok had insisted) below, whilst Taehyung is snug on the couch. He’s wrapped in a thick layer of blankets, looking rather like an egg. It was… nice. Nice the way Seokjin had fussed over him, soothed him until his sniffles had ceased, and then had tucked him up warmly on the couch, murmuring at him to stay put. 

Namjoon is perched in Hoseok’s armchair now, watching them interacting quietly. 

“At all?!” 

Taehyung nods in slow confirmation, Jungkook’s phrasing of his lack of memory making it all the more daunting. “Nothing. Seokjin- ssi-?” He looks cautiously over at Namjoon, but Jungkook is already chirping up with - “Call him Hyung! He’d like that.” 

“Seokjin-Hyung , ” Taehyung murmurs shyly, “Already asked me about it. There’s nothing there. It’s like… I am aware of the structure of society and how to survive, but any actual memories … of people or places… they’re gone. Maybe they never existed.” He frowns a little as he remembers how Seokjin had also asked Taehyung if he was aware of his name, as if he was supposed to know who this vampire is. The smooth facial expression when he had stammered out that he didn’t, had only learned his name through the whispers of the walls. That was confusing. 

“Huh,” Jungkook breathes out, resting his chin on the edge of the couch, “That must be very… frightening. To not be able to know who you are..” 

“Hmm,” Taehyung hums but his eyes are wandering, fingers curling into the soft insides of his blanket. His heavy eyes lock onto something on the wall. A dark, glass panel that trails up to the roof. It looks as if it’s a display, but instead of an object inside, a thick river of red trails upward. Almost hypnotically, the river dances upward, smooth and fluid. Taehyung forces himself to blink, gums beginning to ache again. 

“What is that?” 

“Hm?” Jungkook follows his gaze. “Oh.” His face lights up even as Taehyung continues to stare silently at the wall, eyes wide. “That’s Jinnie-Hyung!” 

“Wait but-” his eyebrows knit together, “Seokjin-Hyung is-” 

Jungkook laughs, loud and joyous. “No, silly! That’s just Hyungie’s blood. The house is made from him, you see. Crafted with his blood, an extension of his body. That’s why the hyungs' were so surprised that it allowed you in - normally it hates, and I mean hates strangers.”

“Oh,” Taehyung gasps in disbelief, mouth falling open.

“Uh huh! Jin-Hyung built this house with his blood and his magic. Yoongi-Hyung helped stabilize it - he was hyung’s fledgling at that time. And now the house is super, super powerful! Isn’t he cool?!”

“Cool is an understatement,” Taehyung stammers, shuddering deeper into his blankets at the thought that the house around him is practically roaming with blood, “That’s.. Unbelievable.” 

“Wait-,” Taehyung starts again, his attention honing in on one sole word, eyebrows knitting together, “Jungkook, what does ‘fledgling’ mean?” 

“Hmm?” Jungkook looks up at him with confused eyes. “Well, it’s-” 

“A fledgling,” a lower voice chimes in, both sets of eyes shooting over to Namjoon perched comfortably in his chair. He’s holding a book, glasses perched on his nose. “A fledgling is a baby vampire. A nestling, if you will. A not yet matured vampire.” 

“Uhuh!” Jungkook says excitedly, hands diving into the blankets to grab Taehyung’s hands, “I’m the Hyung’s fledgling! Oh, and Taehyung, now you are too! Jin-Hyung claimed you!”

….

Wait.

….

What?!

Chapter Text

Taehyung can’t sleep. He’s tried, okay? There is tiredness hanging on his eyelids, weighing down on his muscles - it has been for the entire day. 

As Seokjin had explained to him today (sitting in the living room, Taehyung’s head in his lap and Jungkook snuggled on his chest) fledglings still needed to sleep. It was part of the transition into being a vampire and as he grew older, and matured, he would not have to sleep as much. But for now, it was required that he at least get eight hours a night (not an actual requirement, Hoseok had whispered to him later, you won’t burst into flames if you don’t. Jin Hyung is just strict about fledgling care.) 

A part of Taehyung wonders what his five sires do whilst the babies of the household are sleeping. He makes a mental note to ask one day. 

But, luckily for him, Taehyung had a nestmate - one a little older than him, yes, but needed about the same amount of sleep to function. In a way, it was easy for him to start to settle in. Jungkook is nice, sweet, understanding of his pain and the ache in his gums - after all, it’s not been two hundred years since he was turned, unlike some people in the coven. 

(Taehyung doesn’t know their actual ages, and isn’t sure he really wants to. Living for that long seems terrifying.) 

So he’s tired. 

He was bustled into a room with Jungkook what seemed like hours ago. Handed silken pyjamas and a new toothbrush, Namjoon leaned against the doorway to ensure that they brushed their teeth properly. Taehyung could see the little spikes of fangs poking through Jungkook’s gums, gaps ready for his new teeth to take place. It had made him touch his own teeth cautiously, eyes wide. Namjoon had had a soft smile on his face, laced with amusement. And then they’d been guided into bed - tucked in by Hoseok. Their hair was stroked by Seokjin as he’d murmured goodnight to them and turned off the already dulled light. 

The heavy curtains had been strictly closed, closed to prevent dawn from leaking through, the room dark and peaceful. Jungkook had dropped like a log. He’d been asleep within minutes, a leg thrown over Taehyung’s waist, mouth tight on his shoulder. He’d started to drool actually, as Taehyung had lain there, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

But he just couldn’t sleep. It wouldn’t come, no matter how many different positions he had twisted his body into, no matter how hard he had cuddled up to Jungkook, tried to squeeze his eyes close, and melt into the bed. Nope, it hadn’t worked. None of it. So, after what feels like hours, Taehyung had slid out of the bed. It had been difficult extracting himself from Jungkook’s octopus limbs, but he’d managed to do it, and without waking the other nestling (gold star). 

And now he’s here. 

The room seems to hold more secrets than Taehyung had imagined. 

He’d drawn the curtain back with a careful finger, squinting a little in the moonlight and there. A window seat. A slight curve outward, furnished by cushions. Comfortable. A little nook to sit in. He can’t imagine that anyone really uses it - Jungkook especially, considering the full exposure to the elements. But it’s nighttime and nothing can burn him. 

If vampires burn in sunlight. Taehyung hasn’t asked yet. 

He slips through the curtains quickly, shuddering as the velvet brushes over his skin. They’re heavy enough that they fall back into position behind him, enclosing him alone in the small space. Slowly, making sure his movements aren’t too loud, Taehyung slips onto the bench. It’s comfortable, very much so - the seating area is also reinforced with cushion, making it quite a lovely space to sit. He curls his knees to his chest and leans back against the wall. And, after a few moments of quiet, staring silently out the window, his head joins his back - leaning against the wall securely. 

It’s quiet here. Peaceful. Taehyung can think. 

He can’t think very far though. 

His mind it’s… it’s a block. Dark, murky water and he’s floating above the surface. He can’t swim more than two paces before the water suddenly drops, cuts off in a neat, floating cube, and plunges into the darkness below. There’s nothing there. Nothing but the loose memories of the past few days. Of waking up, of being found, of being claimed. But apart from that - nothing. A few rattling memories of the standards of society, the faint outline of how everything works, the vampire and human dynamic but it’s…. Nothing. 

Nothing but his name written in blank, dripping letters, smeared on a wall by his own fingers. As if some part of him didn’t want to forget - had sliced into his flesh, carved the name out of his own blood. Some part of him, somewhere remembered something. 

But it’s out of reach. 

Taehyung sighs deeply, closing his eyes. He tugs a cushion up, shoves it in between his knees and chest, and squeezes. The pressure is soothing. It’s a little less overwhelming here. 

He likes these... These strangers? These people? Vampires? Yes, but when he’s with them, it’s hard to be able to get into his own head. Think of his own feelings. The world is moving much too fast and it’s terrifying. 

Taehyung has no fucking clue about his sense of self. 

There’s part of him - something hiding and pitiful - that worries that he’ll change. Develop into something new, something different, and then the memories will come back. And he’ll be ashamed of who he has become. Like two different people mashed into the same head. He can’t get a grasp on the situation, can’t find his footing anywhere because… there’s nowhere to stand. He’s having to move on blind trust, take the coven’s hand because there’s nowhere else to turn to. 

But they’re nice to him. Kind. Thoughtful. They’ve done nothing but treat him tenderly. Careful of his empty head, sympathetic to his pains. They’ve soothed him with cool hands, fed him, given him a home. His heart might be a bit burdened, yes, but Taehyung is safe. He’s being taken care of. He was found. He’s not a prisoner here, and has no desire to run or flee. He doesn’t feel trapped. 

So why, why is it so heavy?

It’s fucking confusing. 

He’s damned lucky. He’s being taken care of, fed, given affection and attention. Not all fledglings have that opportunity, Taehyung knows that much. 

From the ill-concealed rage at his abandonment from Hoseok to the sad bleakness from Namjoon - whispered words when they thought he couldn’t hear - “We’re lucky he’s not dead.” “Normally, they wouldn’t let a fledgling live. It takes too much effort to abandon one.” “Anywhere else and he would have been tortured Namjoon-ah. You know covens don’t take in orphans easily. In some cases, they’re simply tools, fighting dogs to train up their own.” “Thank fuck we found him before it was too late.” 

So he’s here. Taehyung is here, he’s cared for, and he’s not dying in a forest somewhere or fighting to the death amongst other nestlings. And yet, and yet, it feels like his chest is tearing apart. Splitting right down the middle, all stemming into his gut where a large, hollow hole sits. Empty, devastatingly so. Splitting his ribs, forcing his bones apart. 

Yearning. 

It’s the only emotion, the only word that could even the slightest grasp the feeling. It makes him cold. Makes him feel ill, a constant headache lingering on his mind. Taehyung closes his eyes, and nuzzles a little into the cushion. It just doesn’t make sense. Sure, maybe his lost memories are something to grieve over but this, this can’t be normal- 

Something creaks. It isn't very loud, not at all, a slight sound that breaks through the air, but it has Taehyung straightening to attention, ears craning. For a moment, he's worried that he might have woken Jungkook - the fledgling stirring to his absence - but the sound passes, muffled by silence. 

Taehyung lets out a shaky breath and relaxes back into the wall. His fingers curl into the cushion, kneading gently as his gaze turns back to the window. The moonlight is pretty as it reflects off of the dampened grass of the lawn below. Maybe someday they’ll allow him to go outside, run through it with bare feet. 

The curtain moves. Taehyung jumps as if he's been shot, spine rigid and unable to muffle the surprised squeak that leaves his mouth. The thick fabric waves again, slowly parting and he can feel his heart pounding in his mouth. Boom, boom. A drop of sweat on his forehead as he watches the curtain part slightly and, and-

"I wondered where you had gotten to, little one," a tender voice says and the tension is draining from Taehyung’s shoulders, slouching back down in relief. 

Yoongi looks at him quietly, a small smile curving at the corners of his lips. They look at each other for a moment, silent and observing, and then the older vampire moves. Scoops up Taehyung's legs with a gentle hand and slides underneath them, cradling them in his lap. Taehyung makes an appreciative noise, watching quietly at the vampire settled opposite him. Squeezes his ankle gently once, twice. 

"Can't sleep?"

Taehyung shakes his head softly, his cheek hitting the window pane with a soft thunk.

"Can't."

"Uncomfy? Or?" Yoongi asks softly, long fingers massaging at the balls of his feet. It’s loving, sleepy.

"Busy," Taehyung says softly. Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow a little, and Taehyung raises his hand to gesture to his head. "Too busy up here."

Yoongi makes a small, recognizing sound, those cool fingers still kneading. 

"You've been through a lot, recently, have you, love? Do you want to talk to Hyung? Voice it out? It can't be nice having your mind so busy."

Taehyung's eyes blare with tears. It's stupid, and he tells himself so when he wipes at them with rough fingers. Yoongi makes a small noise, gripping his ankle comfortingly again. 

"Sorry, it's just I- I didn't expect anyone to care," Taehyung begins messily, trying to voice put his jumbled thoughts, "But now I'm here and you're all so nice and you care and ask me how I feel and feed me and I- I-"

"It's a pleasure to care for you," Yoongi soothes, "Any coven should be delighted to have a new nestling. And a sweet thing like you? We're so lucky."

Taehyung sniffles, lamely accepting the tissue that has appeared in Yoongi’s hand. 

"I know and I'm grateful, truly, it's just… overwhelming. Confusing."

"I remember waking up, turned," Yoongi sympathizes, "it's a bit fuzzy now but it was terrifying. I know."

Taehyung nods waterily. "But it's not just that. It's the- the emptiness. Hyung, I don't know who I am." The words make him sob a little, bury his nose into the tissue with a squeak. Yoongi remains silent, allowing him to speak, cry it out, and warmth blooms in Taehyung’s chest.

"It's just empty, there's nothing there and I don't know what to do. And that's a bit confusing, yeah, but my chest hurts." 

A questioning sound.

"It feels like I'm missing something , Hyung. There's something- I don't know how to explain it, something hollow in my gut. That hurts more than only knowing my name." 

Honestly, Taehyung doesn't expect to be taken seriously. It's probably just the twists of his confused mind, probably just confusion in his turning. So when he lifts his head, eyes hot and mouth tight, a sharp zip of surprise coils in his stomach at Yoongi’s face. The vampire's forehead is pinched, fingers brushing over his chin as he seems deep in thought. 

"Taehyung-ah, maybe-... never mind. Thank you for telling Hyung." He reaches out and caresses Taehyung’s cheek, the fledgling leaning into the touch with a whimper. 

"Hyung will figure it out, okay? Is there anything else worrying you? Tell me."

He gives a slow nod, fingers tightening into the pillow and he gnaws at his bottom lip. Taehyung is a little wary of this topic - honestly, he's scared of the outcome. With his little knowledge of vampires and their tendencies, he's worried he's going to get a sour answer. And heck, he's settled in here, he doesn’t want to-

"Hyung… someone else… turned me. Yeah?" Yoongi nods slowly. "What if.. what if that vampire comes back? Since they- they turned me.. aren't I technically their property?"

His eyes are burning again.

"Could they take me away? Would.. would you let them?"

Yoongi is shaking his head. It's soft, understanding, and he reaches out to cup Taehyung’s cheek again. He finds himself once again leaning into the touch with a low whine, eyes wide. 

"Things don't work like that," he's gently told, "abandoning a nestling is a taboo in itself. We wouldn't be able to let you go with a good conscious."

Taehyung wilts like a flower. Is that the only thing that would stop them? That they would feel bad? 

"And," Yoongi continues, tipping his chin up a little, forcing their eyes to connect, "you're ours now. The first vampire you see, you bond with, you form a sire bond. Just like a duckling. The person who turned you has no claim over you now. You've imprinted on our coven, little one. Taking you would only happen over our corpses."

His chest is a little less tight, his eyes burn a little less. They wouldn’t let him go. He’s found his place here. Not scolded for his fears, for opening up, for being comfortable - so he presses just a little more. 

“But in-” Taehyung flaps his hand waterily, throat tight, “In this whole world it’s… it’s brutal, isn’t it? Where’s the guarantee that you won’t disappear on me? Be taken?” 

“Oh, little one, we’re the top. Anyone to try would be foolish. You’re safe here. You’re safe with us.” 

And despite the promise of safety - Taehyung can’t help the cold, frightening chill that goes down his spine. Paralyzing terror, eyes wide as he stares at Yoongi. The shadows that curve across the vampire's face. 

The top. 

Just who are these vampires?

“Let’s try going back to bed, hmm? Hyung will stay.”

----

Taehyung doesn’t find the answer to his question at breakfast the next day. Nor the day after, when Hoseok hands him a warmed mug of blood, smiling kindly. Nor the day after that, or the next, or the next. 

In terms of rank, in terms of society - Taehyung doesn’t know where they stand, but to him, him - their soft hands, comforting voice, and patience, to him they’re simply his Hyungs. His sires. 

How could vampires like this be anything more than simply gentle and kind? 

They hadn’t scolded him when he had dropped a full blood bag on the floor, staining the carpet, nor when he and Jungkook had accidentally smashed a photo frame. And when he threw up on the bed, sick and shaking, they had simply soothed him - pulled into Namjoon’s lap and cuddled whilst Yoongi had scrubbed at the red sheets with his bare hands, Hoseok wiping off the mattress, Seokjin bundling in with a mug of something and fresh sheets. 

They’re his. He’s theirs. 

Who they are doesn’t matter anymore. 

Taehyung sighs happily, nuzzling a bit deeper into Jungkook’s throat. They’re napping on the couch, lazily intertwined around each other, Taehyung resting on his nestmate's chest. It’s them, the weight of their bodies curled together, the careful breeze that slips through the curtains as the afternoon sun must assault outside. 

Them, them, them. 

He feels a hand knit into his hair. Seokjin murmurs something above him, something to someone else - something about claiming, extending the idea of permanency. Forever. 

Taehyung closes his eyes. 

Happy. 

Please don’t forget about me. 

Chapter Text

“Kim Taehyung, if your hand is where I think it is, you’re going to be in so much trouble.” 

Taehyung startles, eyes wide and guilty as he hurriedly snaps his hand back from the hot chocolate pot, sliding the spoon behind his back. As if he wasn’t about to start spooning the powder into a cup, ready to drink another cup of the thick, rich, delicious substance. 

He turns, trying to blink innocently as his fingers tighten around his hidden spoon, looking toward the mouth of the kitchen. Seokjin is standing there, a corner of his lip twitching, but his eyebrows are spiked in disappointment, arms crossed. 

“Hi Hyung,” Taehyung chirps happily, blinking his eyes wildly, flurrying his eyelashes in a way that Jungkook has told him normally works as a deterrent. Looking cute, puppy-dog eyes, blinking even though they don’t technically have to - but it doesn’t seem to ease his sire one bit, Seokjin’s eyebrows rising higher. 

“Are you trying to tell me you weren’t in the blood chocolate pot?” 

Taehyung’s bottom lip juts out in a fat pout, fingers tightening around his concealed spoon. He wants to deny it, pretend that he wasn’t trying to drink his third cup of the day, but even just the thought of lying to his sire has his stomach flipping uncomfortably, a tight feeling curling around his throat. Instead, he dips his chin guilty, shuffling his feet together. 

He’s been caught. 

Seokjin sighs, and it’s not a pleasing sound - it makes Taehyung shiver in disappointment, almost quivering in his boots. It seems that the vampire senses it, because there’s a soft hand cupping underneath his chin, tipping his head up. 

“I’m not mad, sweetheart,” Seokjin coos, forcing their eyes to connect, “But I need you to stay out of that pot, okay? I know it’s delicious, but you’ve had enough for today. Okay?” 

Taehyung sighs, a little relieved, and nods. He tries to give Seokjin a small smile, almost purring as the vampire draws closer. There’s a hand gracing over his arm and Taehyung blinks sluggishly, mouth curving and-

The spoon is tugged from his hands. His lips turn downward in a pout as Seokjin confiscates his spoon, placing it into the sink. His sire laughs, light and understanding, fingers pinching at the fat underneath Taehyung’s chin. 

“Don't be like that, baby. It’s for your own good.” 

“Hmph.” 

It might be for his own good, but Taehyung doesn’t like it nonetheless. It’s the only treat he’s allowed at the moment, in between the dozens of bags of human blood and the occasional suckle from one of his hyungs. ‘It’s important to have a ratio,’ Namjoon had told him as he’d poured a blood bag into a cup, ‘Human and vampire, more human, I guess. A gradual shift the older you grow. When you’re old enough, you can survive purely on vampire blood, if you wish.’

Taehyung would be lying if he says he didn’t miss variety. A faint, fleeting thought, something sweet and tart, something remotely human lingering back there - maybe a memory, but it flutters just out of reach when he stretches for it. 

Oh well. 

He’s still pouting, but he taps his lips nonetheless, giving Seokjin his biggest puppy eyes. The older vampire doesn’t even complain, just draws a little closer to press a chaste kiss to his mouth. 

That, that has changed too. Not only Taehyung’s status within the coven, namely, his permanency, but the nature of their relationship has changed a little too. 

His neck aches tenderly as he whines softly, a hand coming up to grip Seokjin’s sleeve. His sire entertains him, pressing a slightly longer kiss to his mouth, nipping softly at his bottom lip. 

Taehyung has been claimed. 

He’s a permanent member of the Kim Coven, stepped in of his own volition. 

It had been Yoongi first, of all people. They had had to spread it out, allow Taehyung’s body time to recover - after all, if all five vampires had drunk from him within a short span, it would have exhausted him. To claim, a mutual bite, a mutual sweet sip if you would say - to drink from one another, to have a coven mates blood within your own veins…. A bond that Taehyung hadn’t known was possible, hadn’t known the extremity of it until it had happened. 

Yoongi had been first. 

Maybe it was fitting, seeing as Yoongi was one of the people to find him, him out there in that darkened forest. Taehyung had woken, woken from his sleep with Yoongi curled cool at his side, encasing him with his chest to Taehyung’s back. There had been a thirst, angry and insistent at Taehyung’s throat, and he’d shaken Yoongi awake, whimpering. Things had led, one to another, and it had finished with Taehyung begging to be claimed, to stay. 

Seokjin hadn’t been utterly thrilled at that, had scolded Yoongi until he was blue in the face. But seeing the nestling giggling, pressed to Yoongi’s side with fresh, slightly swollen fang marks on his neck…. He couldn’t be too mad. 

It had been Seokjin next, four days later. By that point, Taehyung had tried every way to make the older vampire bite him - but he’d stood firm, firm on his decision to not overwhelm the nestling’s body, to not put too many dangerous substances in at one time. 

“Your body needs to accept the blood, our bite, little one,” He had told him gently, “We don’t want to overwhelm you.”

But, four days after Yoongi, it had happened. Sweet, gentle, Taehyung clambered sleepily onto the vampire’s lap on the couch, pressing his nose to his throat. Seokjin had asked for permission, all soft and tender, had bitten him firmly, coaxed Taehyung to sink his teeth into his own throat. 

It was so much more overwhelming than just having one bite. When Yoongi had bitten him, Taehyung had found that the world shifted just a little. Like molten warmth running underneath his skin, the slight sense of almost being watched - but it was rather knowing where Yoongi was. And now, with Seokjin, it feels like his body is burning. Abruptly aware, nostrils flaring, senses tender. 

Hoseok had come next. It had taken a week, a week for Taehyung’s fever to break after Seokjin’s bite. Turns out, the coven leader's bite is the most potent, even Jungkook had sympathized with him, told him of his early days after being claimed. It happened though, happened when Taehyung had curled to Hoseok in the kitchen, pleading quietly for another mug of blood chocolate - and the vampire had scolded him playfully, and pressed him back into the counter in a teasing manner. Something in his brain clicked, an instinctual urge, and Taehyung had sunk his teeth into Hoseok’s neck without a second thought. His sire’s own bite had followed, a little stunned at the suddenness of it, but Hoseok hadn’t been mad (even though Taehyung had cried a bit afterward, apologized for not asking beforehand.)

Then, Namjoon. This one was sweeter, six days after Hoseok. They had been on the deck, standing outside at nighttime, watching as Jungkook kicked a ball to Yoongi through the damp grass. One of the first times Taehyung had been allowed outside. Namjoon had been behind him, arms curled tight around his waist, hugging him from behind - and it had been simple to tip his head, let his sire nose into his throat, fangs softly latching in. Easy to crumble in his arms with a hot whine, head spinning as another bond was formed. 

Finally, finally, it was Jungkook’s turn. Still a nestling himself, but from Taehyung’s perspective, an older nestling was just as much of a sire, a guardian as the others are. That one, that one was probably the fondest for Taehyung, the one cherry sweet of his memory. They had been cuddling together, three days after Namjoon’s bite, legs intertwined, sweet and pliant - and it had just… been. Noses brushed together and Taehyung had tipped his head up, Jungkook had whimpered into his throat, bit him with the softness of a nestmate. Jungkook’s blood had been sweet, so, so sweet, and his arms were even sweeter as he’d held Taehyung, held him as he trembled, the bond with the entirety of his coven still new and raw. 

It’s easier now. Easier now that it’s been six weeks since he’s been claimed, two weeks for the bond to settle. But sometimes, he still wants to crawl out of his skin, get away from all the heat, all the molten affection that he feels roaming through his mind every second of the day. He can feel it - the pure, raw adoration his nestmates feel for him. And it’s overwhelming. 

“Where’s Jungkook, anyway?” Seokjin asks him gently, tipping his chin a little to allow the fledgling to nuzzle into his chest, purr in the arms of his sire, “You two are normally partners in crime.” 

Taehyung scowls softly, almost feeling Jungkook’s giggles from upstairs. “He didn’t want to get caught. Thought I’d get away with it.” 

“Aish,” The glare Seokjin sends to the ceiling would be enough to make a grown vampire shudder and cry, but Taehyung can sense it’s actually playful, friendly. The floor ripples away, Seokjin’s magic causing the floors to distort, and Jungkook falls through the roof with a startled cry, Taehyung moving backward to allow his sire to catch his troubled partner. He almost laughs when he sees Jungkook’s guilty face, the way he chews at his bottom lip. 

“Being directly above us, above me,” Seokjin tells him, clearly amused, and presses a kiss to the nestling's forehead, “Is never a good idea, my dear. Seemingly, you’re forgetting the control I have over our home.” 

Jungkook pouts. 

Taehyung wants to kiss him. 

From simple coven mates, they had grown to something more. That had been easier than the bonding, if Taehyung is honest, falling into their arms with clear, loving intentions. Falling for them had been easy. So, so easy to push the boundary, and give new meaning to nestmates. I

That had happened a mere five days after he and Jungkook had claimed one another - and had come about in a pure accident. 

He had been wandering the halls, interest lost in the hours of painting that Hoseok had tempted him into - and he’d managed to sneak from the artist’s room without being noticed, no, Hoseok had been too busy scolding Yoongi, who, looking like a hurt kitten now, had accidentally knocked over a paint pot. 

Taehyung had followed his senses, searching for Jungkook, wondering if maybe they could do something together (Jungkook was the most fun to be around, the fledgling adored getting into trouble) but upon pressing open the door to a room, he had been blinded with a strange sight. 

Jungkook and Namjoon. 

Kissing. 

Kissing very passionately, the fledgling on his sire’s lap, clutching at him like the world was ending. They had all frozen, noticing each other’s presence immediately, Jungkook’s eyes widening, lips red. 

Taehyung couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help how his bottom lip had jutted out, upset, eyes instantly growing glossy. Namjoon had been stumbling over himself, trying to explain, because by lord they hadn’t gotten to explain that certain dynamic yet, and hadn’t wanted to pressure Taehyung into an actual relationship - he was free to be how he pleased. 

With a wet sniffle, Taehyung had whispered accusingly, “Why don’t I get kisses?” 

That, that had made Namjoon and Jungkook freeze again, all words dying, until the nestling had fallen out of Namjoon’s lap and crashed into him - kissing Taehyung so hard that he was sure he almost broke a few of his teeth. 

And from there it had been simple. Falling into it. Pressing kisses to each other's mouths, fluttering looks, and searching hands. They’re everything Taehyung needs. Everything he wants. A few discussions, and they were in the palm of his hand. Lovers, nestmates, together, together, together and Taehyung was overjoyed. 

He has everything he needs. Everything he wants. Kisses every day and cool bodies cuddling him to sleep every night. 

Together, together, together. It’s still a little new, they’re still working things out, learning about each other every day, but Taehyung adores them. (Maybe, maybe he already loves them.)

So why? 

Why? 

Why does Taehyung’s chest feel so tight sometimes? 

Even now, as he watches Seokjin spin Jungkook around, vampire strength making it easy to manhandle the fledgling, and Jungkook is laughing and he should just feel happy, just feel content and yet-

There’s just… something. 

Something empty in his chest. Unusually empty, like a random drawer left clean in a set of chest drawers, completely barren of socks when it should be filled. Even when he’s in bed at night, in their nest, curled with Jungkook and normally one of his Hyungs, there’s just… a hollowness. Something hollow there, right in the middle of his chest. Maybe, if he rapped his knuckles on it, it would ring out as such. Desolate and air-filled, a hollow sound would bounce back. 

He shouldn’t be feeling this way. Taehyung truly, truly shouldn’t. 

Not when his cheeks hurt from smiling and his ears are ringing with Jungkook’s giggles. 

There’s just… something missing. 

Taehyung sometimes feels like he’s a widower, a sad, lonely figure whose husband, a sailor, has passed at sea, washed away. Never to be seen again, lost, lost, lost. 

He’s yearning for someone. 

And he shouldn’t be. 

----

Taehyung wobbles his way down the staircase, the small stack of cups balanced between his two hands. Jungkook and he have a horrible habit of hoarding the things away in the bedroom, forgetting about their mugs on the floor - whether from a blood bag, or from a blood chocolate - until it reaches exploding level and Hoseok drags them by the ears (lovingly) to clean them up. 

He shouldn’t be carrying this many mugs by himself, but Jungkook just took down a stack of a similar size, and didn’t seem to fall onto his face, so Taehyung is sure he’ll be (relatively) fine. 

He’s reached the curve of the corridor, the one where he is in temporary view of the front door, the entryway to the outside clear and exposed. There’s the softness of voices in the air, but Seokjin’s tone has something unusual, authoritative to it. With a soft, curious hum, Taehyung pauses for a moment, peers toward the front door. 

It’s late evening, so he’s not worried about the sunlight. Regardless, the house is built to generally avoid the sun hitting any of the main points of the house, so even at noon, the sun wouldn’t make it through a fully open front door. 

In front of Seokjin, the door is open. Not very much, enough that his sire’s body is mostly blocking it, but when he shuffles forward another step - he can see that there’s a man standing on their porch. His eyes widen with curiosity, cups clinking loudly in his hands. 

The man's eyes meet his, sneaking past Seokjin’s broad frame.

Taehyung freezes. An odd chill runs down his spine - as if he shouldn’t be allowing someone else to see him, as if someone is going to be upset with him connecting, even remotely, to a stranger. 

“Wow,” The stranger breathes out, eyes not flickering from Taehyung’s face, “I didn’t know the Kim Coven had a new fledgling.” 

Seokjin’s head whips around like he’s been shot, eyes wide as he sees Taehyung standing there. Taehyung shivers, throat tight as he watches his sire’s face tighten. Has he done something wrong? Has he? He watches as Seokjin smoothly moves to block the entirety of the gap with his body, hiding Taehyung from view. 

“Who do you think you are, looking into my coven’s house? How disrespectful.” His sire snaps, and it’s in a tone Taehyung has never heard before. Scary. And although he can’t see the stranger anymore, it’s apparent that he feels the same - he’s spluttering frantically, apologizing every few moments. 

“Anyway, what do you want?” Authoritative, straight to the point. Seokjin is upset. 

“Oh, sir, I’ve been told to come to inform you that your blood bag shipment is… delayed.”

“Delayed?”

“Yes, it won’t be arriving until next week. I’m severely sorry, sir, the company is working to right this issue immediately-” The stranger trails off in a squeak, and even Taehyung flinches, biting into his bottom lip as he watches Seokjin draw up to his full height. That man is about to get his ass kicked, poor messenger. 

And Taehyung doesn’t want to hear it. 

So, he escapes down the corridor, bustling into the kitchen, cups swaying dangerously. 

Is he in trouble? 

Is Seokjin-Hyung going to be upset with him? What did he do? His hands are shaking as he places the mugs into the sink, shrinking in on himself. What did he do wrong, he-

“Baby?” 

A hand on his shoulder makes him jump, Taehyung squeaking as he whips around. There’s concern in Yoongi’s eyes, clear as day, his hand tightening a little on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?”

“I-” Taehyung feels useless, tongue swelling in his mouth, “Am I- Am I in trouble?”

“Trouble?” Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow. 

“I- there was someone at the door and they saw me and Seokjin-Hyung didn’t look pleased and-” 

“Ah,” Yoongi draws in closer, slowly looping his arms around Taehyung’s wait. The nestling is happy to burrow underneath his chin, desperate to hide from the world. 

“No, you’re not in trouble, sweet thing. We’re just quite a private coven, we don’t like things getting out before we’re ready for them too. People will be curious about you, darling, very much so, and that’s something we need to control. But you’re not in trouble, I promise.” 

Curious? About Taehyung? Why would they be?

“But Seokjin-Hyung is probably more upset about the man being inappropriate and disrespectful,” Yoongi says in a soft tone, carding his fingers through his hair, “You’re not in trouble at all, baby. You never would be, not for something you didn’t do.” 

Despite the words, and the convincing reasons, Taehyung just can't accept the thought. Even as he's ushered into the living room, Yoongi's hand warm on his lower back. Even when he's softly tugged by Hoseok, led directly into the vampire's lap, arms curling around him. Why would people be curious about him? A new nestling? He watches silently as Yoongi settles onto Namjoon's waiting lap, eyes heavy and sleepy as they normally are - whether it's an act or not on the older vampire's behalf, Taehyung wouldn't know, but-

The air shifts. 

"Late!" Seokjin’s voice rages as he bursts into the living room, hands wringing wildly, "fucking late!"

Namjoon has straightened instantly, jostling a sleepy Yoongi from his lap. The vampire grumbles, narrow-eyed and grumpy, swiveling to deposit his head into Jungkook’s waiting lap - despite Namjoon’s apologetic gestures. 

"What's wrong, Hyung?" Namjoon asks softly and Taehyung shifts in his position on Hoseok’s lap, his sire hooking an arm around his shoulder. Seokjin looks upset, Taehyun notes silently, and his mind, now processed the fact that he didn't do anything wrong, clicks back to the conversation. 

They're running out of blood bags?

"We're running out of blood bags!?" Jungkook explains, practically throwing Yoongi from his lap - and there's no apology as the vampire slinks toward Taehyung and Hoseok, curling into their armchair. It’s a squeeze, one that pinches at Taehyung’s chest, but he doesn't complain. 

"They won't last us, Hyung." Namjoon says, voice grave, "we're going to run out before this delayed shipment comes in." 

It hangs heavy, meaningful over the room.

If there's no human blood… the nestlings starve.

Taehyung shudders, sinks back into Hoseok’s grip as his mind ticks rapidly. How will he eat, feed? They need the human blood, need it for the transition and-

"We're going to have to source some from elsewhere," Hoseok realizes slowly, nose wrinkling, "we pay them a premium price for what, Hyung? We're going to have to go to one of those back dealers again." 

“Back dealers?” Taehyung asks quietly, eyebrows knitting together. Yoongi reaches over to grip his hand, drawing his attention away, but it’s not enough to distract him.

“Less. trustworthy traders, baby,” Hoseok moves to murmur to him, pressing his lips to Taehyung’s ear, “Normally, people who work in the dark, behind the scenes. Places like that… they’re normally attached to places like blood brothels. Hyung doesn’t like how they-”

“Hoseok.” Seokjin says firmly and the vampire falls silent in an instant, mouth moving away from its gentle place on Taehyung’s ear. His eyes turn to his sire, the vampire glowering in the center of the room. The very room itself seems to hold its breath, waiting for the verdict.

“We have no other choice,” Seokjin eventually grates out, jawline tight, “We’ll have to. The nestlings need to be fed.”

“I’ll come with you.” Yoongi is saying immediately, straightening from his previous sleepy position, eyes a little darker. The air feels… unsettled, thick with tension, and Taehyung squirms, fingers twisting.

There’s something, something right down in the depth of his stomach - like someone has twisted their fingers into his intestines, is tugging at his stomach violently. He needs to say something, there’s just.. something there, something important- 

“Can I come?” Taehyung asks quietly, chewing on his bottom lip as he looks for his sire’s reaction. Namjoon has frozen, eyes wide, and even Hoseok has stilled underneath him, grip tightening on Taehyung’s waist.

“No.” Seokjin is saying immediately, voice firm, “No, no nestlings leave this house.”

It sounds final, a decision made - but Taehyung can see that there’s a look trailing heavy between Namjoon and Yoongi. Something unspoken, something different because Namjoon is then speaking up in a soft tone. 

Taehyung is surprised that he dares to go up against the coven’s head. 

“Hyung,” All eyes are on him, “This could be good for him, though. Taehyungie doesn’t have much experience-”

“No.” 

“-in the vampire world, and he needs to know these things. He does. You can’t hide it from him forever, the darker bits of the world. Wouldn’t it be better for him to encounter such things with you?”

Seokjin’s eyebrows furrow.

“There won’t be any danger,” Namjoon soothes, “And I say that because both you and Yoongi-Hyung are going. But it means Taehyung isn’t clueless, isn’t naive in a potentially dangerous future - and that’s important, Hyung. What if somehow he finds himself stranded, runs into one of these blood brothels?”

“He won’t.” 

“But what if?” Namjoon presses gently, fingers pressing into the fat of Jungkook’s thigh, “We need to prepare him for every possible scenario, Hyung. A naive, sheltered vampling is never a safe one.” 

Then there’s silence. It’s almost suffocating, the tension in the room, and Hoseok shuffles uncomfortably underneath him. The silence stretches on, thick and intoxicating, something unspoken passing between Namjoon and Seokjin this time. 

“Fine.” This sire eventually says, crossing his arms, “We leave just after dusk. I’m not risking exposing Taehyung to even a slither of sunlight,” And then, with a heavy gaze, his eyes fall onto his nestling, “And you are not, are not, to leave my side, understood?”

Taehyung chews on his bottom lip but nods, eyes wide and curious. 

He’s going with them. 

Please! 

Chapter Text

Taehyung stays stock-still, almost stiff as Seokjin fusses around him, tugging the beanie a little lower over his eyes. Despite it barely being cold outside, the sun having sunk about thirty minutes ago, his sire has still bundled him up like a snowman, completely covered from head to toe. 

It’s a little too warm, his still disappearing human traits bleeding through just a little. 

Jeez. He doesn’t need this many layers. 

“Hyung….” He begins to say softly, but Seokjin only presses his hands to the fledgling's cheeks, clicking at the back of his throat as he inches down the beanie a little further. 

“Hyung, anymore, and you’re going to turn him into a marshmallow,” Hoseok’s voice says from somewhere in front of them, and it’s clearly laced with amusement - Taehyung can only wish he could see his sire’s face, but he can’t, his vision now skewed by the beanie which is still being inched down further. 

“ Sire,” He whines, fingers scrabbling at the wool, trying to tug it up, “Hyung, I can’t see!” 

“Good,” Seokjin grumbles, but he doesn’t tug down the beanie again, instead, turns around the quickly tug his own boots on. Yoongi is already there, standing a few feet away, one corner of his lip curving upward as his hands are tucked deep into his coat’s pocket. He looks nice, nice for someone who’s apparently going to a place so horrendous. 

Taehyung watches Seokjin pull on his own coat, thin and dark, blinking innocently. They’re all gathered here, gathered in the doorway, Jungkook tucked underneath Namjoon’s arm, chewing harshly at his bottom lip. There is an itch underneath Taehyung’s skin, a muted urge to stay, that any distance between Jungkook will be painful but… 

Something deeper, something stronger tells him that he needs to do this. 

“Got everything?” Seokjin asks Yoongi, and they share a moment of unfiltered eye contact before Yoongi bops his head. His jaw looks a little tight, but it swells away when he turns to Taehyung and reaches out to grab one of his hands with a soft smile. 

Somewhere behind them, as Taehyung is tugged out that big door, out of where home is, he can hear the mumbles of farewells behind them. His hand is gripped tight within Yoongi’s, firm and grounding, but he still glances back over his shoulder, emotion swelling in his throat. 

Jungkook looks so small. Tucked to Namjoon’s side, tiny and shaking, with wide eyes and paled hands as he watches Taehyung step further and further away. Something cold tugs in Taehyung’s belly, a grip so vicious that it makes him gag, but… but there’s something else. There’s something else that instead of running back, back into his nestmate's grasp, makes him dip his head and shoot a shaky smile in the nestling's direction. Jungkook returns it, watery and slim, but it’s there, lingering as Taehyung slowly turns to face the darkness again, stumbling along numbly. 

It’s… empty. Empty everywhere. 

“Come on, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi murmurs softly, something clicking into the dark night. Taehyung blinks, watching as the metal door is opened in front of him, Yoongi tugging him forward a little more. The smell of leather hit his nose, strong and potent as Taehyung clambers into the car, settling himself awkwardly onto the seat. He watches through wide eyes as his Hyungs clamber into the front, Seokjin driving, Yoongi fussing as he turns to remind Taehyung to fasten his seatbelt, to hit back. 

“We don’t drive very often,” Yoongi tells him softly, once ensuring that his seatbelt is on securely, “Don’t really need to leave the nest at that. But hell, today is a special day!” 

“Special,” Taehyung echoes loosely, letting the word roll off of his tongue. The car shudders underneath him, shuttering into life and Taehyung flinches back into the seat, curling his arms around his abdomen. 

The darkness bangs against the car’s windows, carving against the glass as they start to move, rolling forward. Taehyung swallows again, thick and cold, moving to press a palm against it. It’s cool against his touch, his cheek as he presses closer, eyes wide and glassy as he stares up the long lawn. 

The porch light is on - a beautiful, glowing gold, and he can see the outline of them in the doorway - of Jungkook, still tucked underneath Namjoon’s arm, Hoseok pressed to his side, seemingly comforting him. Taehyung swallows down the whine that bubbles in his throat, watching as the light slowly fades, the house eventually swallowed by the night. 

The car has turned, swept them from view and though two of his sires are in the car, presence close, Taehyung feels the loneliness settling deep inside his core. Like four, empty, gaping spots. 

When there should only be three. 

Regardless, he shakes his head, presses his palms to squeeze at his cheeks as he closes his eyes, counts softly. It’ll be fine. He’ll be back before he knows it, he’ll be back and everything will be right. 

Taehyung doesn’t need to worry. 

“It’ll take us about an hour to get there, baby,” Seokjin tells him softly, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, “Why don’t you try to take a nap?” 

Taehyung squeezes his eyes closed again, falls silent as he sinks back into the leather seats. There’s something… something twisting, like a serpent, hissing and violent, striking out against his ribs. 

Something is about to break. 

Something… something…. 

Taehyung curls a hand into a fist and allows sleep to wash over him. 

----

“ Taehyung.”

“Taehyung!”

“Taehyung.” 

Taehyung’s body jerks back into motion with a small gasp, spine ridged as he starts to rub wildly at his eyes, his chest heaving with untaken breath. There’s a hand, cool and soothing, running down his side as someone seems to hush him. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to startle you..” A hand, cupping at his face and Taehyung leans happily into the touch with a relieved purr, eyes fluttering, vision through lowered lashes revealing Seokjin crouched in front of him, the car door open. 

“We’re here.” 

Yoongi is a few paces behind him, hands deep in his pockets and an awful, amused smile on his face. Taehyung huffs, the lingering sleep slowly draining away as he straightens himself up, rubs at his swollen cheeks. Seokjin has that awful, sweet smile too, brushing his hair back with soft, loving fingers. 

“Come on, my love. Let’s get this over with.” 

The night air is cold as Taehyung stumbles from the car, shivering despite his layers. Yoongi is wrapping an arm around his waist, nuzzling close - the car door ringing out loudly behind them as Seokjin shuts it, locks it with a piercing click. 

It’s so… so dark, and Taehyung’s eyes are slowly drinking in the building in front of them. His brain almost can’t process it, staring upward with wide eyes, up to where the building blends into the starry sky. 

There are fingers wrapping around his own, Seokjin’s, he finds, when he looks down, tugging him forward tenderly. Yoongi is right by his side as well, seemingly herding him, combining him safely in between their bodies as the large doors are opened - opened by unseen hands - and Taehyung’s throat bops nervously as he presses a foot over the threshold of the building. 

It’s… crushing. Suffocating, almost, a weight over his head that has him shuddering into himself, wrapping one arm around his stomach protectively. It’s just big. Big and dark, but not dark in a night way, in a comforting way, no, it’s the kind of dark you see when death must greet you. The dark that signals the end. 

When he starts to feel Seokjin’s fingers slip from his own, gliding away, Taehyung tries to hold on. His eyes widen, fearful as Seokjin steps away, a few paces in front of him, and he’s hurrying forward - if not for Yoongi’s hand grabbing his own, hushing him in the softest tone he’s heard from his Hyung. 

“It’s okay,” Yoongi murmurs, forcing Taehyung to walk at his pace, “Let Hyung go first. Stay here with me, okay? Don’t wander.” And despite the building anxiety in his throat, Taehyung nods stiffly, finally allows his eyes to view past Seokjin’s broad frame. 

It’s easier to drink in the sight once they’ve stopped - his sire, three paces in front of them and the shadows beyond. 

There’s a desk. 

It’s big, rigid, and takes up the entire expanse of the corridor in old, worn wood. It looks a little messy too, a collection of papers spilling, a jar of ink dripping down onto the unseen floor. Taehyung shudders again, sliding himself a little behind Yoongi. His sire seems more than happy to hide him from view, arms crossing just as a sound rings out true through the air. 

And now, there’s someone behind the counter. It’s clear instantly that this stranger isn’t a vampire - the years have worn away at his face and he has the makings of a beer belly, bulging clumsily against his shirt. He’s looking at Seokjin with such a disgusting expression, one that has Taehyung’s upper lip curling back in a silent smile. 

It’s a lustful, greedy expression. One for money. This man clearly knows whatever status Kim Seokjin has and clearly intends to use it to the best of his abilities. 

“Kim Seokjin…” The man drawls, an eyebrow lifting, “I didn’t expect to see you here, again. What a welcomed surprise!” 

“It’s not like I wanted to be back,” Seokjin responds curtly, and though it may be rude, it has Taehyung rippling with pride, snarl turning to smirk in moments. Yoongi though, still feels tense in front of him. 

“Well, regardless,” The man is still playing the charming card, smile glued to his face, “What can I do for you, for the Kim coven, and oh- ” 

Taehyung shudders. Full-body and vile when he feels the man’s gaze on him, those lustful pupils expanding in curiosity, disgusting and unwelcomed. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t like how the gaze burns, sears through his soul. 

“The Kim coven has a new fledgling? I haven’t seen that one before. How… wonderful.” 

“We’re not here for pleasantries, neither did I give you permission to discuss my coven’s dynamics,” Seokjin says coldly and the man instantly falls silent, mouth tight. It takes him a moment to recover, for that mocking smile to return, but it does, as flattering and skin-prickling as it was before. 

“Well, since you’re hre, I presume you’re in need of… blood bags? Of course, I’m correct. You’ll have to give me a moment to fill out some paperwork, you haven’t been here for so long, good sir, and these government papers of course need to be filled and signed.” 

“Oh, you’re using legal routes now, hmm? Papers and everything… what a surprise.” 

“Always have, always will,” The man says eagerly, but it’s a lie, stinks of one from miles away, “Now, what can I get for such a prestigious client-” 

Taehyung attention shifts away - Yoongi has slid a bit more in front of him, releasing his hand. And now that he’s fully hidden from view, protected, Taehyung can peer around without feeling like his skin is peeling off. 

The corridor is well…. Just that, big and intimidating, but his eyes catch onto something - a set of doors, just as large as the entrance ones, and there’s light spilling from it. Dark, purple light, flashing like a pulse, spilling out through the small crack. Curiosity is licking at the base of his spine, something coiling in his stomach, and Taehyung takes a slow, silent step back, craning his neck so he can peer around the door. 

His eyes roam past the wood, through the open gap between the doors. 

It’s.. it’s horrific, burning at his pupils, making his face drop. Inside, through this hellish door, it’s a scene. Tables upon tables, flashing lights, a floor where people are standing. Something prickles at the back of his mind, faded memories of pounding music. It’s a club. It’s exactly like a club, with the dark booths, a stretching room. He can’t even see where it ends, can only see that it is filled with people, crowded and bustling. 

This… this must be the blood brothel. He didn’t expect this, didn’t expect it to be so… so public. To see the blood slaves seated on stranger’s laps, a little tense as they suckle hungrily at their throats. 

It’s horrific, bile-inducing and has Taehyung’s face screwing up. Everything is pulsing and- and there’s so many of them. Chains, silver and thick around their wrists, their upper arms, the blood slaves move lifelessly, human but barely there, milling between their vampire customers. 

Oh god. 

“Taehyung-ah.” 

Taehyung-ah! The voice is a whisper, like bells on the wind, light and filled with life, light. It’s almost like a laugh, joyous and airy, and something warm coils in Taehyung’s belly. 

“Taehyung.” Firm, scolding, it’s not that voice, but it’s Yoongi-hyungs' - the vampire gripping onto his wrist tightly. He looks a little upset and Taehyung blinks, confused. “I said not to wander.” His sire scolds, tugging Taehyung forward a little, to his side, “Not even a step. Please, baby, stay by me. It’s not going to be much longer, I promise.” 

Taehyung hums, and his sire seems to sense his discomfort, running a hand up and down his arm in a soothing motion. 

Everything feels a little shaky, a little uncertain, but Taehyung leans into the touch. Yoongi is trying to tug him forward, back closer to Seokjin, to safety, and Taehyung is gliding with him - but his gaze, one last time, slides between the doors, back into that horrible, horrible room and it’s almost hypnotic-

The world freezes. 

Everything does, really. And it doesn’t matter either, not the time ticking by, nor the furrowing of Taehyung’s brow as his eyes dilate. Right there. So close, shaded amidst the pulsing purple. An angel. An angel. he’s … there, soft and curved, and it’s just-

It’s you. 

There’s a bruise around one of his eyes, his neck pale and plastered with dark purple bruises, and the bags underneath his eyes must weigh on his back like an anchor. But it’s him, it’s him, Taehyung just knows, knows deep down in his gut as the world starts to shift. There, there, there. 

It’s you! 

The world suddenly clicks straight when their eyes meet. A simple connection, above the sea of lights, of blood, and it’s searing, right into Taehyung’s soul, bursting warm fireworks in his belly. His mouth is falling open, hollow and almost calling, something sharp tugging in his chest. This beautiful boy, this gorgeous man, his lips are moving, a silent word falling from his lips - but Taehyung can hear it, he can hear every single syllable, the slight breathless exhale as the boy’s eyes widen. 

Taehyung. 

The world is right, the world is right, he’s right there. 

It’s you.

“ Taehyung.”

“Taehyung!”

“Taehyung?”

“Tae hyung.”

“ Tae hyung.”

“TAEHYUNG!”

“Taehyung.”

“Taehyung.”

"Taehyu ng.”

“Tae- Taehyung!”

“ Taehyung!”

“Tae.Hyung.”

“Taehyung.”

“TAehYung-”

“Taehyung,”

“Taehyung,”

“Taehyung,”

"Taehyung,”

"TaehyungTaehyungTaehyung-”

“ TAEHYUNG!” 

Taehyung can hear it, burning into his head, forgotten but so, so vivid . The man’s voice, it’s crystal clear and even though he can’t hear, there’s no possible way - he can hear it in a thousand different ways, the laughter, the pain, the scolding. It’s so, so familiar, like a burning hug, so, so right. 

Mine. 

Mine. 

It’s you. 

The world is numb. It means nothing, nothing, not anymore, there’s nothing here worth hearing - Taehyung’s ears are buzzing, loud and insistent as his feet start forward. There’s something tight on his arm, a grip maybe, and maybe there’s a voice, someone trying to talk to him, but Taehyung can’t hear them. Can’t rip his eyes away as he slips violently from their grip, almost lunging through the open doorway. 

You. 

The floor, he’s crossing it, the tables flying by, and nothing matters, not anymore, not without this man in his arms, and they’re getting closer, closer, he can see the whites of the man’s eyes, the veins pulsing in the bruises on his throat, the wet, thick sheen of tears in his eyes-

You. 

Everything explodes. 

Maybe it’s just exploding inside of Taehyung, but he can’t really tell, it feels like the world isn’t there anymore. It doesn’t matter, not at all, not after his arms have twisted impossibly tight around his man, crushing them together. It’s them, them, them, he can feel a hand clawing at his back, the sharpness of metal cuffs as the man sobs, fingers twisting violently into his hair. 

It’s them, them, them. 

You. Me. Us. 

They’re not close enough. They’re not close enough as Taehyung claws at this man, tries to bring him even closer than physically possible. Something hot is burning at his mind, at his chest as he clutches at him. He can feel his nails drawing blood, the heavy gasps of the man’s chest, but it’s not in dismay, nor fear, no. His own blood is being drawn from the grip in his scalp, the hand that’s clawing at his back, the leg that has been thrown around his hip. He can feel it, the wet sobs into his throat as the man clings to him, chants his name like a prayer and oh, oh, his voice is beautiful. 

“ Taehyung!” 

Violently, almost frantically, with the screaming in his ears growing louder, Taehyung shoves his nose into the man’s throat, nuzzles at those bruises with a loud upset whine, trying to soothe him, heal him. There’s a commotion maybe, something around them, but there’s nothing else that matters. Nothing that matters as they twist together, as they fall heavily to the floor, the man clambering onto his lap, clutching at him urgently, still chanting his name as his pretty face curls into a sob. 

Taehyung doesn’t have to think. Not as he intertwines their fingers together, feels the man shove his face back into his throat, hugging close. 

This. 

Him. 

You. 

This, this is what his heart was yearning for all along. 

You’ve found me. 

Chapter Text

Taehyung 

Thump.

Thump.

Thump. 

It’s relaxing. Soothing his body, sitting calm in his bones. A soft lulling, a gentle swaying. 

The soft beat of a living pulse underneath his cheek, the soft lullaby of a human heart slowly beating against his own chest. And yet Taehyung doesn’t want to open his eyes. His body just simply doesn’t have the energy, his mind doesn’t have the will to move, not when there’s warmth beneath him, the shaky rise and fall of breathing. 

It’s so strangely foreign that it’s comforting. Taehyung has grown used to the coldness of vampire skin, the cooled fingers of his sire on his body, but this, this is good. Different, but good.

Somewhere, somewhere in his boggled, overwhelmed brain, he feels the familiar ting, the familiar warmth of one of his nestmates being nearby. Very nearby, in fact, he can almost feel the eyes burning into the back of his neck as someone stands in the open doorway, observing quietly. But Taehyung pushes that away, tries to ignore their presence, and instead, focuses on the warm skin encased underneath him. 

The man that is cuddled underneath the weight of his body, safe, protected, his, his, his. 

Taehyung doesn’t remember how they got out of that horrid place. It seems so distant now, disregarded in his mind. Why were they there in the first place? It doesn’t matter, not now. He found what his heart was yearning for, what his body was searching for - even if his mind didn’t remember. It had all just clicked in that one moment, every hollow part of his body surging with fullness, and it had felt right, right. The first thing that had felt right in a long, long time.

But they had somehow gotten home. They had gotten out of that place and Taehyung barely has a clue how. It’s all fuzzy, and hazed over, but it comes back in tiny little snippets. Someone tried to tug him away, tug him up, and he’d snarled, gripped on tighter. Eventually, he was lifted, but lifted with the man, mushed together like little pastry balls. The faint clanking of metal, of something falling away, onto the floor, and then the gentle thrum of the car’s engine underneath him. 

And the man’s pulse against his cheek, his mouth. Thump, thump, thump. A constant, keeping him grounded, letting him ignore the blistering pain from the scratches over his arms, the desperation that is sinking in his stomach. 

Home. 

Home and his brain is finally, finally quiet. So is his gut, his heart. It’s not hollow, not gaping, it.. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It doesn’t feel like Taehyung is slowly being tugged in a certain direction, and even if he feels a million miles away from his body, he knows that it starts, and it ends, with this man. 

You. 

“Taehyung-ah.”

Not you, not you, not you. 

There’s a snarl filling the room, something bordering on a human in anger, but also lying on a line of something inhuman, something horrifically vampire - a hiss through fanged teeth, a growl from a turned throat. And it’s then that Taehyung realises the sound is coming from him, and boy, it suddenly makes sense. 

Well, not really. He isn’t entirely sure why he’s growling, nor why his tiny fanged teeth are nipping harshly at the insides of his cheek, the jut of his lip, his limbs shifting uneasily. He wants to be here, wants, wants, wants, and the person moving closer to him might try to take him away and-

“ Taehyung-ah.” The tone has changed now - it’s something darker, something more demanding, and Taehyung stiffens. He doesn’t twitch, not even when he feels a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers pressing hard over the faded bite marks there. His link to his coven. 

Oh. 

Sire. 

“There you are.” 

Taehyung wants to argue that he has always been here, he hasn’t been anywhere else, but strangely, it feels like he’s leaking back into his own mind. His vision is a little bit clearer, his senses a little sharper, and he can actually feel. So maybe his Hyung wasn’t lying when he welcomed him back. Taehyung’s been… a little… lost. 

Maybe a little more than lost, considering that it’s only now that he realises just how heavily he’s pressed into the body below him. Smooshed together, tight enough that it’s uncomfortable. The breathing below him is tense, pressing up against his own chest tightly, shallow and stiff. 

His limbs ache. 

Hoseok’s fingers soothe at his throat, a hum falling from his sire’s mouth. They sit there for a moment, in silence, Taehyung’s eyes fluttering as he leans into his sire’s touch with a relieved sigh, relieved that his brain is slowly ticking back into something less….. Gone. 

“You need to feed, baby.” Hoseok murmurs eventually, pressing his finger pads into the scarred bites on his neck, “You need to get up.”

Taehyung can feel another snarl bubbling behind his teeth, one frothing against his will. Angry, protective. He doesn’t understand where it’s coming from, why - this is his sire, he’s safe here, they’re safe here, and yet his gut just won’t stop tugging, a rageful urge to protect, possess.

“Jungkookie hasn’t seen you for days,” Hoseok coaxes, “Your nestmate misses you. And- and he’s safe here, baby. He’s safe. No one is going to touch him in this house, in this coven, Taehyung-ah. I promise.” 

Taehyung shifts, gums aching. He knows that. This is nest, safe, safe, safe.

“Why don’t we get a little air, hmm? We’ll get you fed, and he can have a nice bath. Okay?” 

Taehyung doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to have to move, doesn’t want to have to leave, what if his heart starts to ache again, and, and-

“Taehyung,” Hoseok’s voice is gentle but firm, “We don’t want to have any accidents, baby. Can you get up, please? Or do I have to go get Hyung?” 

Accidents. 

There’s a burning in his throat, a thirst that is building just at the back of his tongue. Burning there, thirsting, thirsting, and there’s blood pulsing below him, Taehyung can feel it, he can smell it, and-

Pale. 

Bruises around his wrist. 

Scars over his throat. 

Metal over his wrists.

Tears in his eyes, and he’s pretty, pretty, but Taehyung doesn’t want to see him cry ever again, he doesn’t want to be he cause of him crying, he doesn't-

Taehyung pushes himself up roughly, practically throwing himself off the bed. He can feel his throat tightening, needing with thirst, and he grabs onto Hoseok’s hand tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. The sound of blood, warm and fresh, human, pulsing nearby, it’s almost- it’s almost too much but-

But the man on the bed is skinny, drained but familiar. Eyes squeezed closed, fluttering gently, chest rising and falling just a little shakily. Taehyung couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not when the man’s wrists are so small he can encase them in between his fingers, not when his face is so sunken and dark. 

“Come on,” Hoseok lullabies, helping him up with soft hands, “We’ve put some towels in the bathroom for him. If he wakes, he’ll be able to have a shower, or a bath, okay?” His sire says it a little loudly as if the man will be able to hear him, and it confuses Taehyung just a little. 

But he doesn’t dwell on it, leans into Hoseok’s soft hands as his sire guides him from the room, and carefully tugs him down a corridor. 

He’s hungry. 

It rumbles, rumbles. And the scent and feel of fresh human blood slowly fades, even if anxiety remains. 

Who are you? 

----

“Messy boy,” Namjoon scolds softly, but it’s fond as his sire slowly drags a thumb over the jut of his lip, carefully wiping the red away. Taehyung can’t help the way his mouth stretches in a large, cheshire smile, nipping carefully at Namjoon’s fingers with razor-sharp teeth. The vampire chuckles at his action, poking at his little fangs with a fond look on his face, his other arm tight around Taehyung’s waist. 

It’s almost, almost distracting. 

They can almost distract him with their sweet kisses, with Jungkook purring at his side, with Namjoon’s blood still warm on his tongue. 

Almost. 

But his eyes keep flickering toward the doorway, alert and paranoid. Watching for a shadow to maybe try to slip past, someone trying to escape, and Taehyung can’t let him, he can’t, they’re them, they’re here, they’re meant to be together, they have to, have to. 

(A part of him, maybe a little lingering of human, agrees that the man has right to want to escape. That Taehyung’s kind, what he is now, is responsible for the paleness of the man’s skin, the scars on his throat. But to run from Taehyung, to try and carve that hollowness back into his chest…. Taehyung won’t allow it.)

He feels Jungkook’s cold nose on his jawline, the nestling nuzzling at him softly, fangs softly grazing over his cheeks. Taehyung leans into the touch, a hand knitting into Jungkook’s sweater, and it’s so comforting, so nice, them, them, them. 

His coven mates are gathering in the living room. He can feel them behind him, warm little beacons in his mind, a settling presence over his heart. There’s intention, he can feel it flowing through the air thickly. 

There’s something to be said. 

Taehyung glances upward curiously, up at the curve of Namjoon’s jawline. He can see that his sire is looking over his shoulder, eyes darkening with something, and he suddenly looks a little stiff, a sudden nod ripping from his muscles. Taehyung slowly turns, looking over his shoulder, and smiles as he sees Yoongi sitting almost directly behind him on the nearby couch. Oh, and Jin is beside him, and Hoseok is pressed up underneath Jin’s arm, and oh, they’re almost all here. 

With a happy little sound, Taehyung wriggles his way around in Namjoon’s lap, beaming over at his sires with a sweet smile. He barely notices that Jungkook doesn't move, presses his face into Namjoon’s throat with a short squeak. 

Taehyung doesn’t notice. 

He swings his feet slowly, looking between them as silence fills the room. 

Is there…

His feet slowly stop swinging, his brow wrinkling. 

Is something… wrong? 

There’s something to be said, yes, he can feel it in his fingers, but is it… bad? 

Taehyung looks between them, bottom lip suddenly caught in between his teeth. What’s- why is there so much tension? It’s growing, and growing, and something worried curls. Why is- why is Hoseok clutching onto Jin-Hyung so? And why is Namjoon squeezing his shoulder and he’s getting worried now-

“We need to talk about… this.” Jin says slowly. He’s looking Taehyung directly in the eye, remaining in calm eye contact, but it doesn’t help the bubbling nerves. Taehyung swallows thickly, pupils trembling as he clutches for Jungkook’s hand. 

He doesn't find it. 

“This?” Taehyung says quietly, and he can’t hide the quiver in his voice, “Hyungie, who-” 

Jin’s gaze softens further and he leans forward a little, Hoseok clutching at his hand. 

“About Jimin, Taehyung-ah.” 

Jimin. 

Jimin. 

Jimin. 

“Taehyungie, can you get- - whilst you’re out? Yes, write it down, make sure you remember it!” 

A kiss to the corner of his mouth, his hands catching onto something warm, a ringing giggle. 

“I’ll see you in an hour, okay? I love you.” 

I love you too. 

“Taehyung? Baby?” 

Taehyung looks up into Jin’s eyes again, his bottom lip threatening to tremble. That man upstairs, he must be called Jimin. That’s why they’re saying that. But what about him? Well- well he’s human, obviously, but-

“.. Hyung?” 

“He-...” Jin pauses, and he seems to struggle for words a little, before starting again, “We don’t know where you know him from, do we? You can’t remember, and that’s okay, baby, but- but that information is probably going to be a bit… traumatising for him to hear.” 

Taehyung purses his lips. 

“He’s already realised… that you’ve changed,” Yoongi takes over, voice soft, “He realised that you’re not human anymore, Taehyung, and…” His face tightens, pained, “I think that really scared him.” 

“It… it did?” Taehyung asks tentatively, brow furrowing in worry. Somewhere, somewhere in the back of his head, he can hear screaming. Feel someone clawing at him, trying to get away, but he just grasped on tighter with a sob, trying to pull them to him, and their chest is rising and falling in panic and-

“He knows something more is different,” Yoongi continues, hands tightly knitted together in his lap, “I think Jimin can sense it. We’ll have to tell him, have to tell him that you’re suffering from memory loss, that…. That you recognize him, but you don’t know him.” 

Taehyung’s heart drops to his feet. They will have to, won’t they? They’ll have to tell Jimin that he doesn’t know him, that his body and heart seem to, but his stupid brain has blocked that part, much like the rest of his life, out. If seeing Taehyung in his new vampire state was scary for this human, who on earth is he going to take that Taehyung doesn’t actually remember him? 

They have to be important to one another. They have to be. Taehyung could hear it in his voice, hear it in his own, see it in Jimin’s face. Feel it as they’d gripped at one another, sobbing loudly. 

They’re something special, they are. 

“Taehyung-ah,” Jin says slowly, face tight, “When Jimin finds that out, when he realises that you don’t remember him… he-..” 

He trails off, mouth tight.

“He what?” Taehyung squeaks, voice shaking. There’s something sour stinging at the back of his throat, the lingering of his feed from Namjoon, and Taehyung suddenly wants to be sick. His back grows tense, stomach churning dangerously.

“He might want to leave.” Yoongi finishes, eyebrows drawn together. “We don’t have any problem with Jimin staying, Taehyung-ah. He might be human, but we can make things work. If he’s special to you, then he’s special to us. No harm will come to him whilst in this coven.” 

Leave, leave, leave, leave- 

“But considering what Jimin-ah has gone through…. Being around vampires is already triggering for him. And knowing that you, his special person, don’t know who he is… he might want to leave, baby. He might not want to be here anymore-”

“No!” Taehyung doesn’t even recognize his own voice, teary and cracking and it’s entirely broken, “No, Hyung- Hyung, he can’t, I- I need him-” 

Namjoon’s hand is tightening, sliding over his shoulder to slowly loop around his body, tug him back into his embrace. He’s shaking, he can feel it, his entire body vibrating with anxiety and he even thinks of Jimin leaving, and- and the desperation is so vivid on his tongue, sour and acidic, and the urge to vomit churns. 

“We can’t stop him if he wants to go, sweetheart,” Jin says quietly, eyes shimmering, “If he wants to leave, we can’t force him to stay. We won’t be like all those vampires he’s met before, Taehyung-ah, we won’t -” 

“If he leaves,” Taehyung finds himself saying, teeth drawing blood from his bottom lip, it’s a spur-of-the-moment decision, but one that his heart coos to him is right, right, “If he leaves, I’m going with him-” 

A growl fills the room. 

It’s so rich, so full, and sends Taehyung shuddering backwards with a soft whimper, eyes blown wide. Jungkook’s hands are suddenly grabbing at him tightly, the nestling almost flinging himself onto Taehyung’s lap, and Namjoon is clutching him so hard that it hurts and, and- and his Hyungs across from him, their eyes are blown open wide, jawlines tight, and Yoongi is growling, softer now though. 

“You can’t leave us, Taehyung-ah,” Jin almost snarls, eyes glowing, “You can’t. You’re mine, you’re ours. You belong here.” 

“But-” 

“We’ll work something out,” Hoseok chimes in quickly, a hand tight on Jin’s scruff, “Even if we have to build something on the edge of the property, we’ll work something out, okay? No one is leaving. No one is going to be upset. We’ll find a way to make this work.” 

Taehyung’s eyes fill with tears and his chest grows suddenly tight, and he clutches for Namjoon’s hand. 

“Oh-,” his voice breaks, the realisation of what he just uttered with ease catching up to him, flooding guilty in his throat, “Hyungs, Hyungs I don't want to go, please, Hyungs, I- I’m sorry, I don’t want to go, I don’t, I don’t-” 

“I know,” Yoongi whispers, and they’re all curling around him, soft and comforting, and he’s cocooned in their embrace, “We know, my love. You’re just a bit overwhelmed. It will all work out. Sire promises.” 

Taehyung…. Taehyung trusts them. 

But will Jimin? 

Chapter Text

Jimin

Jimin can’t breathe. He’s frozen, guttural breath trapped in his throat, and every swallow his poised body manages to take tastes bitter, like needles are sliding down into his chest. 

It’s pure fear. 

Jimin he- he doesn’t understand. It all hasn’t caught up to him, not yet - maybe he just doesn’t want to face reality, doesn’t want to understand. All he knows is that he found Taehyung again, he found him - but this Taehyung is cold, different. 

His Taehyung is……. He’s a fucking vampire. 

How did this happen? How did- how did they end up here? Why is Jimin squeezing his eyes closed tightly, trying his best to remain still, as a vampire, a shell of his former person, lies on top of him. Protective, heavy, cradling over him, his cheek pressed to Jimin’s throat. 

How did this happen? 

How- grief is heavy in Jimin’s stomach as he lies there, frozen, paralyzed. Every inch of his body wants to run, wants to flee - but he already tried earlier, and the sounds that Taehyung had let out. Desperation, heart-breaking, hands clawing at Jimin with wet eyes. So similar to his Taehyung of the past, to the one that holds Jimin’s heart. 

But he’s not. He’s not the same anymore. And Jimin’s mind doesn’t want to recognize that. Because Taehyung smells the same. That familiar, comforting scent that has curled around Jimin his entire life, slipped so tightly into his soul that it’s engraved in every inch of his memory. 

This is Taehyung. But it’s not. The air around him ripples differently, and he just feels… stiff. Unknown. Different. Jimin can’t see that familiar glint in his eyes, that nostalgic curl of his lips. 

What have they done to you? 

Taehyung doesn’t appear to be his anymore, and it breaks him. Grief, Jimin comes to realise, is what keeps him paralyzed to this bed, right where he was placed. Because if he moves, it becomes real. If he tries to interact with Taehyung, he’ll become a stranger, further and further away from Jimin. If he opens his eyes, he’ll see those sharp teeth that now crowd in his….. In his mouth. 

Vampire. 

The sound of his own heart pulses in his ears and Jimin can feel something breaking inside of him, slowly, slowly crumbling. 

“Taehyung-ah.”

Jimin stiffens like a wooden plank, eyelids fluttering a little as he draws in a sharp breath. It appears the voice startles Taehyung too - because the weight on top of him is shifting. And then, the most horrifying snarl fills the room. Something so foreign, something of a vampire, and Jimin can feel himself shuddering into the sheets. 

Taehyung is stiff too, frozen and cold, and he’s shifted just a little, a palm pressing to Jimin’s hip, and that snarl is still rippling through the air-

“ Taehyung-ah.” The tone has changed now. Sharper, strict, and it sends a cold zip down Jimin’s spine. He holds his breath for a moment, preparing for some sort of attack, a strike, something cruel as that is all he’s known - but instead, he feels Taehyung growing limp. 

Melting on top of him, the stiffness draining from him, and that strange voice is murmuring again - “There you are.” 

Jimin wishes he could see what is happening. Wishes he could see, just so he could watch how they interact - but Taehyung is peeling himself away, just a little. Pulling a little less flush from him, and Jimin’s chest can breathe a little more, stagger something in. 

“You need to feed, baby.” And Jimin’s breath catches in his throat, tight and horrified. He can hear the voice saying something else, but it’s all he can focus on - the muted sound of his own heart, the sluggish feel of his blood. No. Taehyung- Taehyung wouldn’t, would he? They wouldn’t- they wouldn’t force Jimin to- to- 

They wouldn't, right ? Please- Jimin can’t breathe. It’s like pounding on a brick wall, trying to claw his way out of water, but nothing is helping, it’s not, he’s going to be- 

“-He’s safe. No one is going to touch him in this house, in this coven, Taehyung-ah. I promise.” 

Jimin wants to scoff. He’ll never be safe, will never be with vampires near him. It’s only a limited amount of time before they fold, dive for his warmth, his blood. They always do. Bruising hands and sharp teeth, piercing into his skin, holding him down whilst he sobbed-

“Why don’t we get a little air, hmm? We’ll get you fed, and he can have a nice bath. Okay?” 

A… a bath? They’re.. Offering Jimin a… bath? 

“Taehyung,” The voice says firmly, “We don’t want to have any accidents, baby. Can you get up, please? Or do I have to go get Hyung?” 

They- they don’t… they don’t want… to- Jimin doesn’t get the time to unpack it though, because the body above him is suddenly roughly throwing itself away, thumping onto the floor heavily. Jimin flinches at the noise, shuddering deeper into his head, biting harshly down on the inside of his cheek. 

There’s a pulse of silence, just a moment, and then that voice lullabies through the air. 

““Come on, we’ve put some towels in the bathroom for him. If he wakes, he’ll be able to have a shower, or a bath, okay?”

He knows you’re awake. Jimin wants to sob at the thought, his body locking up, preparing for an accusation, rough hands dragging him up - but instead, all he hears is soft footsteps leaving the room, and the door clicking closed after him. 

They’ve… they’ve left him alone. They didn’t… they didn’t hurt him. 

Jimin draws in a shallow gasp and pushes himself up from the bed with his eyes blown open wide. Instantly, he’s scanning the room - searching for a hidden guardian, someone watching him, because they surely wouldn’t leave him alone. But there’s… there’s no one, nothing, and Jimin curls his pale, frail arms around his shaking legs and presses his forehead to his knees. 

He wants to cry, but he’s too numb, too cold to do so. His brain is a mess of string, red and black, knotted and tangled. He can’t…. Taehyung. 

He can’t see him like this. Jimin can’t, he can’t. He needs to- he needs to get out, he needs to leave… but being left alone, finally being able to breathe, Jimin becomes acutely aware of his own skin. Of how heavy it is, how grime and lingering blood clings to him, weighing him down, and it has him shuddering in disgust. 

Maybe he’ll.. Take them up on the bath offer. 

Maybe, just maybe. He presses himself up from the bed, rocking dangerously on his unstable legs, and Jimin keeps a firm eye on the closed door as he staggers over to what he supposes is the ensuite. It remains closed, much to his relief, and once inside the bathroom, Jimin closes the door silently and hurriedly locks it, backing away from it. 

He- a door won’t hold them, it won’t. But it’s a foolish impression of safety, something that seems to settle his shaking heart. 

Turning around, Jimin finds that they haven’t lied to him. There is a lovely bathtub, and a stack of white towels, soap, shampoo sitting on a small table next to it. It feels… feels wrong to use them, to use the products of these.. People, but Jimin doesn’t have a choice. Hopefully, they won’t try and manipulate him for it, tax him for his use of necessities. 

He bathes in cold water. Jimin can’t bring himself to use the hot water, not wanting to put himself in debt even more, so instead, he hurriedly sits in a few inches of freezing water and rubs soap over himself - cupping the water with his hands to allow it to wash the grime away. Washing his hair is rather awkward as well, having to tip his head down to reach the water, but it’s done quickly, efficiently, and Jimin is wrapping himself tightly in a plush, white towel, nervous eyes wiping around the bathroom. 

It remains empty. Silent. 

To Jimin’s surprise though, when he peeks back out into the still empty bedroom, is that there is a small stack of clothes on the bed. He approaches them as if approaching a snake, eyes narrowed, mind scattered, but… but they’re just normal clothes. Comfortable, soft sweats and a matching hoodie, and socks, and there is a pair of blue slippers placed on the floor. There’s no one hiding underneath the bed either, nor in the closet, and Jimin just slowly sits down in his new clothes, shivering as he curls himself into a ball. 

How is he supposed to leave? He can’t outrun a vampire, let alone a coven of them. And if he does try to run, will they punish him? Strike him, like they did back at that horrid place, clamp him with iron to restrict him, imprisoned? 

Is Jimin’s life forever going to be an empty, painful spiral? 

He spends the rest of the day quivering in the room. Time seems to tick by, slowly draining from the window, and all Jimin can do is wait. Is wait for that version of Taehyung to barge back in, demand him to submit or to hold out his wrist. And yet…. Yet no one does. It remains quiet, silent, calm, and slowly, slowly, over the hours, Jimin starts to settle. His fingers uncurl, his teeth stop chattering… 

Until he hears a noise outside of the room. It sends his eyes wide, fingernails digging into his palms, eyes locked onto the door. He waits, waits, shaking, anxious, but no one enters. No one enters even though there is shuffling outside, and instead, Jimin eventually hears soft, coaxing voices, and the shuffling moves away. 

Lead away, down the corridor, and Jimin is just… left alone. 

And it’s fucking confusing. 

Maybe they’re trying to lure Jimin into a false sense of security. Maybe they’re trying to urge him out of the room, trick him into a trap. But it won’t work, it won’t… that is until Jimin’s stomach starts to cramp from hunger. Tight and painful, and through his tears, Jimin tries to count the days since he’s eaten on his fingers. 

It’s too many to count. 

Even though they’re vampires, surely they… surely they have something edible. Something in the kitchen. And it’s dark out the window now, almost pitch black, and if Jimin is quiet enough, he can find food and the front door. 

It could all work in his favour. 

So even though he’s so anxious that bile is building in his throat, Jimin creeps toward the door of the bedroom. He opens it, slowly, flinching, bracing, but the dark hallway is… empty. Silent. So even as Jimin’s skin prickles awkwardly, almost searing him alive, he slowly, slowly takes a step out into the corridor. 

Then another. And another, and then he’s slowly inching down the staircase, eyes darting violently around the room. 

It remains silent, cold. Enough that Jimin manages to creep down another corridor, following his senses, his hands shaking, and it opens up into a dark, dark kitchen, moonlight slowly shimmering off of marble countertops. Jimin creeps forward another step and scans around again. It stays silent, stays empty, no one jumping out at him from the shadows. 

He’s made it this far. 

His shaking hands curl around the door to the refrigerator and he tugs it open, cringing as it makes a sound. He looks over his shoulder wildly, but… no one appears. No snarled teeth, no accusing tones. So slowly, Jimin sinks into a crouch, peering into the fridge with wide, frightened eyes. 

There are… blood bags, he flinches at the sight of them, but to his surprise, there are…. Abundances of human food as well, tucked onto their own shelves above the blood bags. Delicate trays of sliced meats, vegetables, what looks to be fresh noodles, and Jimin blinks, a little confused, because why would a coven of vampires have this much human food selection and-

Someone clears their throat softly from his right, and Jimin almost screams. 

He jumps almost a foot in the air, knees and elbows knocking into the floor as he scuttles backward, and Jimin’s back hits the kitchen cupboards roughly, sending a sharp shot of pain down his spine. His heart is pulsing in his throat, behind his eyes, and he can’t- he can’t-

The light of the kitchen clicks on and Jimin squints, gasping under his breath. 

There is a tall, shadowy figure standing in the kitchen doorway. 

Jimin is- he’s going to-

“I didn’t want to startle you,” The figure says suddenly, soft and gentle, “But I knew I would anyway. I’m sorry.” 

Jimin’s eyes start to water, fear curling in his throat and he can’t help but sob. 

“Please- please don't-” 

The stranger’s eyes soften, and they’re crouching down, and suddenly, they’re not so scary. Not so tall, small, Jimin’s size, stretching a hand out in a soft embrace. 

“Oh, sweet thing,” The vampire murmurs, eyes sad, “No one is going to harm you in this house. I know that’s hard to believe right now, but I swear to you - not a hand will be laid on you.” 

Jimin blinks, sniffling loudly. 

The stranger smiles at him, hiding fanged teeth behind his plush lips. 

“I’m Kim Seokjin, dear. I would have loved to have met under better circumstances, but it’s a relief that we found you, regardless.” 

Jimin stares. 

Kim Seokjin moves in slow, clear motions, sweeping a hand toward the fridge. 

“Would you like me to make you something? I can tell that you’re hungry.” 

And before Jimin can even think, can even filter his words, they’re tumbling from his mouth - “You can cook?” 

The vampire appears to be biting back a laugh, eyes swirling with mirth. “Yes, dear one, I can cook. Let me make you something to eat, please.” 

Jimin bites at his bottom lip, unsure and nervous. 

“Sit at the counter,” Seokjin says to him softly, “That means that there is a surface between us.”

Jimin stares. But slowly, slowly rises to his feet, staggering away from Seokjin. The man doesn’t move, doesn’t lunge toward him, just watches him quietly as Jimin limps around the kitchen island to the bar stools, nervously taking a seat. And it’s only once the human is still that the vampire moves. Moves in elegant, but clear movements, slowly moving around the kitchen. It’s clear that he’s holding back, being predictable to not startle Jimin and it’s just… odd. Jimin can only watch out of narrowed eyes, hugging himself tightly. 

To his own surprise, it’s Jimin that breaks the silence, watching Seokjin slowly place meat into a sizzling pan. 

“You said… you said you were glad to meet me. Why?” 

The vampire hums as he reaches for a bottle of sauce, meeting Jimin’s eyes over his shoulder. 

“You’re Taehyungs'.” 

The words make Jimin shiver, his eyebrows furrowing. “You… knew of me?”

“Not directly,” the vampire says calmly, searching through the fridge to emerge with a packet of noodles, “We weren’t sure of who you would be, but Taehyung was waiting for someone. Something was… missing.” 

“Missing.” Jimin whispers to himself, digging his fingertips into his ribcage. “Someone… someone?” 

Taehyung didn’t- he didn’t- 

Kim Seokjin sets a bowl of noodles in front of Jimin slowly, pushing a pair of chopsticks over the counter top. Jimin stares down into the broth with wide eyes, the steam stinging softly at his cheeks, his nose. 

“You should know.” The vampire says softly, and when Jimin looks at him, his eyes are soft, understanding. 

Nothing more has to be said. That difference that Jimin felt about Taehyung, the stiffness, the foreignness in his face, everything, everything, it comes together. Bold, real. 

“He doesn’t… he doesn’t remember me. Does he?” Jimin’s voice sounds defeated. Dull. And that cramping in his stomach is disappearing, replaced with something sorrowful. 

“No,” Seokjin whispers, “He doesn’t.” 

Jimin draws in a sharp, shallow breath, his eyes stinging. “What did you do to him?!” 

“Nothing,” Seokjin says, and he ignores Jimin’s scoff, “We found him in the forest.”

“In the…”

“He was abandoned. Whoever bit him left him to die.” 

To die. A tear rolls down Jimin’s cheek, hot and wet, and it slowly drips onto his thigh, soaking into the fabric. He knows enough about vampires, it’s been his world for so, so long, he knows, he knows, Seokjin doesn’t have to spell it out for him. It’s already written on Jimin’s tongue, clear as day. 

“You… you took him in?” 

“Yes.” 

“That’s…” Jimin’s voice breaks, “That’s almost unheard of.” 

“It is,” And Seokjin’s voice takes a fond lint, “But he bonded with Jungkook, our nestling. There wasn’t anything more we could do.”

He doesn’t remember you. He doesn’t- you’re nothing. He doesn’t- he doesn’t- 

“Nothing?” Jimin whispers, and he hates how small he sounds. 

“His memory from before he was turned is gone,” Seokjin tells him gently, “We’re trying our best to coax it back, to help him remember things but it’s… hard. He found you out of instincts, some form of familiarity. But he… he can’t directly recall you, Jimin. I’m sorry.” 

Another tear plops onto Jimin’s pants, and then another. Seokjin makes a soft noise and he pushes a box of tissues over the counter, but Jimin doesn’t move to take them. He just stares angrily down at his clothed thighs, his fingers curling so tightly into fists that they’re turning white, and it all just hurts. 

He’s nobody. 

“I’ll leave you alone to eat, to think things over.” The vampire tells him, sympathy clear in his voice, “If you have any questions, we can answer them in the morning. But no harm will come to you here, Jimin. I swear it.” 

Jimin just nods dully, eyes zoning into blurs as he hears Seokjin silently tread from the room, the kitchen light switching off, leaving only the dangling lightbulb over the kitchen island on, and it shines off of the broth like a small moon. 

There’s nothing… there’s nothing here for Jimin. Taehyung isn’t- he doesn’t remember him, nothing,nothing, and he’s made a new life, a coven, vampires, vampires, he doesn’t.. He doesn’t need Jimin anymore. 

Jimin he can’t- he can’t stay in this house any longer, he can’t- he can feel them around every corner, red eyes, watching him, waiting, waiting to trick him, and he- he can’t- 

It only takes moments to find the front door. It’s clear as day, moonlight shining through the windows, illuminating the door knob, and it doesn’t matter that Jimin doesn't have shoes on. He’ll, he’ll find a road, get a lift back into town, return to his small, rundown apartment and try to get his life back together, but he can’t- he can’t stay. 

The wet grass soaks into the ankles of Jimin’s sweats as he runs, panting into the night air, darkness clinging to him, and he can see his breath in the air, can feel goosebumps rippling down his neck. He is running, running, cold wind slipping underneath his hoodie, and it’s cold, cold, urgent, urgent. 

He can see the tall shadows of trees in front of him, welcoming him with shadowy arms, ready to embrace him. And he should be scared, he should be, but Jimin isn’t. The forest is better than… than someone who… who doesn’t- 

The forest is swallowing Jimin whole. 

Their branches are curling around his neck like a vice, and all Jimin can do is run, run, run. Dark, sharp objects whipping at his face, cold air filling his jaw, his nose, his feet stumbling, and it all hurts, it all does, but not as much as his heart does. He doesn’t know how long he’s been running for, sweat dripping down his back, a sob bubbling in his chest, everything shaking, shaking, shaking and it’s so dark. Dark enough that Jimin can’t see the root, can’t see when his foot gets stuck, twisting with a sharp, painful lurch, and he’s meeting the ground head first, dirt filling his mouth. 

And lying useless on the ground, ankle and heart throbbing, Jimin lets the tears fall. 

Loud, messy howls as he cries, curling up into a tight ball on the floor, trying his best to hold himself as pure grief coats his body from head to toe. What is he supposed to do now? He’s only stayed alive, only held on with the mere thought that Taehyung is out there, he’ll find him someday, he will, he will, and they’ll go back to how they’re supposed to be, they will. 

And now? Now? Now Jimin cries into the forest floor until his throat starts to hurt, until his chest wheezes from the force of his cries, the pain in his twisted ankle cementing into his bones. 

He doesn’t know how long he lies there. Coldness soaking into him as his heart shatters over the forest floor, his tears dulling into something quiet, little hitches of pain and sorrow. Jimin hopes that it all ends. That he’ll wake up, and everything will be as it should, that this horrible dream will be over. That he’ll be warm again. That it will all…. 

It hurts. It hurts so much it feels like his heart is being ripped out from his chest. A pain he’s never felt before, even in all his years at the blood brothel. All the pain, all the injuries, it’s nothing, nothing compared to this. 

To heartbreak. 

He’s so cold and tired when he sees the light. A warm glow of orange, slowly, slowly drawing closer and all Jimin can do is blink sluggishly. Watch as it draws closer, his numb ears slowly picking up the sounds of crunching footsteps and fuck, that actually is someone, not just an illusion or something mythical. 

Jimin pushes himself up, knees tucked to his chest, and stays deadly quiet, wiping at his cheeks with dirty palms. It doesn’t seem to matter though, because those soft footsteps draw closer, and suddenly, someone is stepping out from the bushes, a heavy-looking lantern swinging from one hand. 

It reflects in his eyes in such a gorgeous way. A moth to a flame. 

And Jimin stares at him silently. The vampire stares back. 

The wind whistles. 

“Are you okay?” The vampire’s voice is deep, soft. 

Jimin sniffles, wipes at his runny nose. “Who are you?”

The vampire sighs, lowering the lantern to the ground, crouching a few metres away from Jimin. 

“‘M Yoongi. One of Taehyung-ah's coven mates.” 

Jimin gives a little sob at the name and bites harshly at his bottom lip, fighting the urge to shuffle away. He’d never outrun a vampire, and wouldn't be able to escape. He can’t even run away properly, how pathetic. 

“It’s cold out here.” 

Jimin doesn’t answer, eyes trained on the dark forest floor, watching the lanterns flame flicker. 

“You don’t have to come back to the house,” Yoongi says, gentle and plain, “But at least let me drive you to a hotel.” 

“A.. a hotel?” 

“Yes,” the vampire breathes out, even though he clearly doesn’t have to, and the way the shadows lick up his face… he should be terrifying but he’s… soft. “We can get you a hotel for a couple of nights, get you somewhere warm, comfortable, away. It’s up to you.”

“Why?” Jimin’s voice cracks in the night air.

“Because you’re special to Taehyung-ah.” Yoongi says plainly, and Jimin laughs at his words, tears blooming in his eyes again. 

“He doesn’t even fucking remember me.” He snaps, a tear sliding down his cheek, “why would he, why would you care?”

“You’re precious to Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi says clearly, “And that means you’re precious to us.”

“But I’m a human-” 

“It doesn’t matter what you are, Jimin. You mean more than life itself to Taehyung, and in turn, it means you’re one of us. If you want to be, you’re just as much a part of this coven as any of us are, Jimin. That’s how precious you are to him. He needs you. And if he needs you, then so do we.”  

“But he doesn’t even… know me….” The words taste wet, salty on his lips. 

Yoongi sighs softly and shuffles a pace closer, and for some reason, Jimin can’t find it in himself to flinch backward. 

“I- fuck, we’re not… not the best at emotions,” The vampire says, the lantern flickering, “It’s harder when you’ve been a vampire for so long. To gauge human emotion. But… and fuck, this is going to sound cheesy but… but Taehyung’s brain might not know you, Jimin. But his heart does.” 

A tear rolls down Jimin’s cheek. 

“He… he knows who you are. How precious you are to him, he does. Even though his brain hasn’t caught onto it yet, the rest of him knows. What you have, Jimin, goes further, deeper than memories.”

Jimin sniffles, wet and weak. 

“He loves you. And he knows that. And if Taehyung loves you, then we will too. We’re family here, a coven. No one is going to harm you, Jimin. You’re far too precious to do so.” 

Another wet sniffle. 

“And I know it’s hard to trust,” Yoongi’s voice wavers just a little, “And you’ve been through so much. So much pain, so much trauma at the hands of vampires, and we want to show you we aren’t like them. We aren’t. You’re safe here. You’re safe here, I promise you. And Taehyung needs you. So if that means setting you up at a hotel for a while, or building a cottage at the edge of our property, we’ll do that.” 

The tears are rolling now and Yoongi smiles at him gently, flickering in the light. 

“You’re a part of our coven now, Jimin. You’re in charge here, it’s your decision. Everything, everything is by your word. You say stop, say no, everything stops. Everything. You don’t have to come back to the house, but let me drive you to a hotel. Okay?” 

Jimin rubs at his wet cheeks with a little gasp, sniffling. He.. he shouldn’t trust them. They’re vampires, and Jimin is afraid, he’s afraid. But… but… Taehyung… does he… does he really… know him? Is he safe? And there’s… there’s nothing else for Jimin out there, so if he does die, then he’ll die by Taehyung’s side and he won’t… be alone anymore. 

“I twisted my ankle.” He whispers shakily, shivering. 

“Okay.” Yoongi murmurs and he rises to his feet. “Do you want me to help you? I can carry you.” He stretches out his arms and Jimin wrinkles his nose. He doesn’t want to be so close to the vampire’s mouth, not on the front, and Yoongi seems to understand in a mere moment. 

“Here,” he says, crouching down, back to Jimin. Vulnerable. “Get on. I’ll carry you like this.” 

With a soft sob, Jimin crawls over the ground, slowly wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s throat. The vampire hooks his hands underneath Jimin’s thighs, hiking him up, the lantern dangling from loose fingers. The vampire he’s… cool. Comforting, in a strange way, and he makes no move to bite Jimin, not at all, instead, starts to carry him through the forest quietly. 

Jimin whimpers. 

“Do you want me to get the car?” Yoongi asks into the quiet night, the lantern sizzling. 

Jimin breathes out slowly and makes a decision. 

Chapter Text

Taehyung

Taehyung can't breathe. Hoseok and Namjoon have their arms twisted firmly around him, pinning him to the couch, and it’s necessary considering just how violently he's shaking - his legs vibrating, feet twitching to move, hands clenching into fists. It had been fine, Taehyung had gone down for a nap, belly full - and he'd awoken to hushed, urgent voices. 

Alarm bells instantly in head, body stiffening. 

Jimin was gone. 

His entire body had laser focused on that one sentence, falling from Hoseok’s mouth - that Jimin was gone, that he had left, and Taehyung’s entire world had shattered into wet shards of red. 

He doesn’t remember it, not entirely clearly, because there was a high pitch scream vibrating up from the base of his skull, and his limbs had felt so heavy that his bones had shuddered with it. But Taehyung had shot out of bed, out the door, toward the staircase with a noise of such devastation ripping from his mouth that it had warbled frantically in his throat. 

It’s not entirely clear who grabbed him, pinned him to the floor, but it had to have at least been two of his sires - running their hands over him, cooing to him - calming him enough that they could move him into the living room. 

And yet, despite it all - despite the ache in his heart, his mouth, the rippling fear of absolute loss - Taehyung notices another absence. Yoongi is gone, disappeared from the house in all entirety - his presence faint - and though no one else says anything (Seokjin is too busy pressing a cup of something warm into his hands, Jungkook is clutching at his knee caps like a vice), Taehyung thinks. 

It’s not exactly a clear thought, not comprehensive whatsoever, but Taehyung is sure that Yoongi has gone after Jimin. He has to have, right? They wouldn’t just leave him out there in the cold, wouldn’t just leave someone who they’ve claimed to have accepted into their coven, and if anyone can help, if anyone can talk something into the air, it’s going to be his Yoongi-Hyung-

The clock ticks somewhere and Taehyung whimpers again, his throat throbbing from the force of it. Namjoon is instantly cooing a soft noise, something to try and soothe him - but it does nothing. He can’t even feel their arms around him anymore, the fingers pressing into his chest and stomach to keep him in place, Jungkook’s cheek against his knee as the nestling croons sadly. 

Jimin is gone. 

He’s gone. 

His heart is gone, everything is gone, what’s the point without him, the emptiness is going to ooze back, Taehyung, he will-

The clock ticks again and Taehyung follows Seokjin’s movements with his entire head - the way his sire looks up at the clock quietly, his mouth pursing into something, his fingers tapping on the opposite arm. 

It can’t end like this. It can’t, it can’t, Taehyung doesn’t think he can handle it if it does so. It already feels like his chest is caving in, like his stomach is cracking down the middle, and there’s sour at the back of his throat, rolling, rolling- 

The front door. 

Taehyung can hear it, loud and clear - the gentle thud of it being pushed open, sweeping over the carpet. And instantly, a high-pitched noise is pulling from his mouth, and Taehyung is violently jerking forward - the arms holding him fumble, quickly reapplying their strength as they try to coax him down. 

But now, Taehyung is fighting against them, his body as stiff and alive as a taut wire. His shoulders are moving, sharp back and forth, trying to throw his sires off of him - and Hoseok grunts harshly - but they’ve got him, pressing him back into the couch with pressured sounds, Namjoon even throwing a leg over Taehyung’s lap to keep him down. 

“It’s okay,” they’re whispering to him, Seokjin’s eyes boarding into him, trying to hold comfort, “ you’re okay, little one, you’re okay, sire has you.” 

It doesn’t really help though. 

Taehyung can hear the drag of footsteps, and he can physically feel his ears sharpen - listening so intently to the sounds that it makes his head throb. And- and no- his mouth tightens as his nose screws up, cheeks retracting - he can only hear one set of footsteps. The shuffle of only one person, one, not two, and Taehyung- it feels like his brain is collapsing in on itself. 

He can’t even talk anymore, can’t even make sounds anymore - it feels like his mouth is swelling with cotton wool, vivid loss settling and curling around his ankles, up his calves. 

He’s lost everything. 

There’s no point in trying to struggle against Hoseok and Namjoon anymore, and he’s slumping back against the couch, his throat closing up. Faintly, he can feel Jungkook murmuring something against his knee, the nestling squeezing firmly at his thigh - but it feels like Taehyung’s world is crumbling around him. 

Right when everything had started to feel right, it’s been torn away from him. A reality where his chest holds a hole, where his heart beats undead, where his time is so slithered that is fades through his fingers like dust. 

Without Jimin, his brain feels too loud, too full. And yet gapingly empty, a dark abyss that consumes all. 

Taehyung’s teary eyes latch onto the entrance to the living room, his chin slowly sloping to rest on his own chest. He eyes it up with utter loathing, waiting for his Hyung to come into view - the one body, the only person. The pressure behind his eyes is building, building, about to explode - and he sees the sneak of colour, of texture, and Yoongi is shuffling through the doorframe. 

But there’s a pale arm sloped over his shoulder, protruding from behind him, and Taehyung can feel the way his pupils dilating, how energy surges back into his veins. He lunges forward with an urgent sound, and Namjoon curses aloud as his sires pounce on him, curling their arms around him with strength again. 

Because Jimin is there, resting on Yoongi’s back, feet tangling off of the ground. He looks pale, and there’s smudges of dirt on his hands and knees, but he’s here, he’s here even if his lips are tingling a little blue. 

Taehyung struggles unconsciously as he sears the image of Jimin into his memory, watches like a hawk as Yoongi gently crouches, angles himself backward just a little so Jimin can softly fall onto the couch. The human’s face scrunches just a little, contorting - and he’s adjusting one of his legs, holding his ankle tenderly. 

He’s hurt, he’s hurt, he’s- 

“You poor thing,” Seokjin murmurs, and Taehyung can feel his top lip peeling back defensively as he watches his Hyung wrap a blanket around Jimin’s shoulders. The human is stiff, but he murmurs words of gratitude nonetheless, flinching a little as Yoongi gently props his foot up onto a stool, a packet of ice pressed against his injury. 

There’s silence for a moment, the sound of Taehyung struggling against the arms that hold him - his urgent, jerky sounds - but Jimin isn’t even looking at him. The human is just staring at his own lap quietly, only turning his large eyes to look at Seokjin when the vampire slowly sits next to him, a hand outstretched. 

There’s a set of wipes in his hands, Taehyung realises hazily, and there’s a tense moment. One where Jimin’s face contorts, his nose scrunching, eyes narrowing - clearly an internal debate - but slowly, slowly, he’s placing his hand into Seokjin’s own. The vampire slowly start to wipe at the dirtied skin there with slow, long strokes, in a way so tender that it makes Taehyung’s heart clench. 

He needs to get closer though, he needs to- 

“Jimin…” Yoongi says slowly, and Taehyung’s eye whip to him, teeth biting sharply at the inside of his cheek, and his brain is too loud, too quiet at the same time, “-has something to say.” 

All eyes turn to the timid human curled on the couch. Jimin doesn’t speak for a moment, just passes his other hand for Seokjin to clean. Taehyung watches the way he swallows, the gentle curl of his nose as he sniffs, and then, then the human begins to talk quietly. 

“I’ve come to a decision,” He begins, voice shaking just a little, “Of what I want to do. Of where I want to stay.” 

Taehyung can’t stop the whine that rips from him, and Jimin’s eyes flicker to him, something swimming deep in his irises. Those eyes remain on him as Jimin speaks again, voice just a little stronger. 

“I will stay. Here. With you.” 

It feels as if someone has knocked the space out of Taehyung’s chest and he’s slumping backward, his eyelids closing. The arms against him are still tense, preparing for him to try again, but it feels like someone has tipped a cup of cool water over his head, settled something in his bones. 

“You have one chance.” Jimin says firmly, and there’s finality in his tone, “ one chance. If you scare me… if I become scared of you, if you do anything to make me fear you or be frightened… I’m gone. I will not remain on this property for a moment more, I swear. You will never see me again.” 

“That won’t happen.” Namjoon speaks, his voice low and firm, “Thank you for giving us this chance.” 

Taehyung’s eyes open again, sluggishly, his lips turning downward at the edges just a little. He stares at Jimin out of glazed eyes, his shoulders shaking just a little - and the human’s eyes lock with his own. Something changes, something spirals over Jimin’s face, almost a wistful expression - and slowly, slowly, he opens his arms, just a little. 

Taehyung is in his lap in a moment, movements messy and sluggish, and he presses his face into Jimin’s throat with a sob that wracks his entire body. 

“ I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” he’s babbling, over and over, but Jimin just gently runs a hand down his back, murmuring softly to him.  

“Stay.” Taehyung asks, fingers curling around Jimin’s wrist, “ stay.” 

The human only hums, but there’s hope in his eyes, and Taehyung latches onto that. 

He’ll stay. 

He’ll stay. 

---- 

Change doesn’t happen overnight. Jimin is given his own room, one that locks, and for quite a while, he just stays in there alone - door sealed, completely quiet. Taehyung will sit outside that door for hours, waiting patiently until he can see Jimin again, slowly fiddling with his fingers. 

He can feel the sympathy from his nestmates, can feel it in the gentle kisses they press to his lips whenever they see him seated outside of that door, in the way that Jungkook will sit with him for hours - holding hands and stealing kisses. 

But Taehyung will wait. He would wait till the end of the world to see Jimin’s smile again. 

It happens slowly, less movement than a snail could make - but Jimin starts to appear around the house, leaving the safe confines of his room. He’ll be in the kitchen, or he’ll watch them from the entrance to the dining room, and he’ll keep his distance - a good few feet in between them - but it’s more, and it makes Taehyung’s heart swell with joy. 

Time is just a concept, a silly thing when Jimin is near. There’s never fear in his eyes, but there is tentativeness - he’ll stay back, keep the vampires where he can see them. But his bruises start to heal, his scars start to fade over into pink, and Jimin will now brush his fingers up against Taehyung’s, will smile at him in a way that feels so familiar. 

It changes one day when Taehyung is feeding. He’s stuck on Namjoon’s throat, lips reddening, blood smeared just a little over his cheeks - and he hears the startled gasp behind him. He’s pulling back like a whip, eyes wide - and Jimin is standing there in the doorway, eyes blown wide. 

“Jimin-ah,” Namjoon says in greeting, but there’s a hint of worry to his voice. Jimin stares at Taehyung for a moment, and swallows. 

“I- sorry.” The human squeaks, “I know feeding is- is very private, I didn’t mean to-” 

“You’re coven,” Namjoon soothes instantly, his eyes warm, “If you’re comfortable with seeing it, then we are comfortable having you here. Don’t apologise.” 

Jimin swallows thickly again and nods. Taehyung meets his eyes one last time, and Jimin gives him a small smile - gesturing to the smudge of red over his cheeks. 

The human doesn’t retreat to his room though, does not flee - Taehyung finds that he only moves to another room, and he meets Taehyung’s eyes when he enters with a soft smile, eyes holding no malice. 

It’s slow, but it’s change, it’s Taehyung resting his head on Jimin’s shoulder one night, the human exhaling lightly before brushing their fingers together. 

It’s them. Together. 

Chapter Text

Together. 

Jimin cracks his eyes open, eyebrows furrowing a little as he stares through the glass. His cheek is rested against cool skin, fingers sloping through his hair, and it’s bliss. It’s bliss to be here, curled on top of Taehyung on the window seat, his cheek resting against his chest. 

They’re watching the moonlight, Taehyung’s head resting against the frame, dark eyes slowly flickering through the silver rays outside. It’s night, it’s peaceful, it’s quiet, it’s the sound of Jimin’s breathing as they curl together, feet brushing and legs touching. 

It’s them. 

The change hasn’t been easy. 

It’s been a long, tedious progress - and in more moments than one, Jimin has felt the start of that familiar curl of fear. And it’s not in response to anything, not really, maybe one of the vampires moved just a little too fast, and it makes his body utterly clench. His trauma, his triggers - the flashes of sharp teeth and bruising hands - paralyses Jimin sometimes, leaves him hiding behind locked doors. 

So it hasn’t been easy, and there has been more than one moment where Jimin has raised his voice, curled in on himself, ready to defend himself if necessary - but every single time the vampires retreat with ease, soothe him with gentle voices, never turning against him, never playing into the image of vampires that Jimin has known all this time. 

----

It had been a random Wednesday night. 

Jimin can barely breathe as he slowly pads down the staircase, ear craning for any movement. He.. he hasn’t dared leave his room in the daytime, not yet - no, for the longest time, he wouldn’t leave his room at all. Would stay curled in his bed, listening to Taehyung shuffle outside the door. 

It had been miserable, hearing him whine there softly, but Jimin he’d been.. So conflicted, his mind so heavy and he… he just need space. 

But now, now he’s started to sneak out. In the dead of night, softly sliding down to the kitchen to try and find something to eat. And the vampires they’ve been… welcoming. At least, with their actions - the human food filling the bottom of the fridge, the random packets of instant ramen. 

Jimin flinches harshly as the stairs creak again, and he wrinkles his nose, preparing for someone to awake. But the house remains quiet, dark. 

Breathing out a light sigh of relief, Jimin curls his way around the bannister end and tiptoes down the corridor. The kitchen light makes his eyes hurt, almost blinding him when he clicks it on - and he hisses to himself softly, shading his eyes.

The kitchen is quiet, and above everything else empty. 

So he gets to work. Quick, quiet - placing a knife on the kitchen side while he sets a pot to boil, gathering himself a packet of instant noodles. A small tub of mushrooms gets put onto the side - something that he’s tipping out onto a chopping board once he sets the noodles on to boil, constantly glancing behind himself. 

The kitchen remains silent, empty, and Jimin allows his eyes to move down to the knife in his hand. With careful strokes, he slices down each of the mushrooms, cutting them into slices, and he’ll retreat back into his room in a moment, and he’ll be safe, safe and-

Something out of the corner of his eye, just a flash, but it has Jimin’s instincts rearing up - and the gentle - “Uhm-” that breaks through the air sends every single hair on Jimin’s body standing right up. His chest tightens, his throat does too, and it’s like all air has been sucked from his body, his hands and shoulders tightening. 

He’s whipping around, hands held out in front of him - back knocking into the counter as he stumbles backward, shock racing through his veins. 

In the doorway, Namjoon slowly, slowly raises his hands up in a sign of surrender, taking a slow step away. 

Jimin’s chest is heaving. He’s breathing so hard that his vision is starting to spot black a little, and his hands are shaking so damned much - and Jimin’s spotted vision flicks down to his clenching fingers and he’s… he’s holding the knife tightly, stretched out in front of him in defence, ready to fight. 

His heart pounds, tongue dry. 

“Sorry.” Namjoon whispers, and his face has absolutely fallen, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you- I’m so sorry-” 

Jimin swallows thickly, and he can feel his heart pounding right underneath his ears- but the vampire still has his hands up in surrender, his mouth in a tight line. Jimin drops his eyes back down to the knife in his hand, and he swallows again. 

“You… you didn’t..” his voice is saying, shaking just a little, “You.. you just startled me.” 

He doesn’t really want to, and neither does his muscles - but Jimin forces his arms to lower, the knife dropping to be held in one hand by his side. Still, Namjoon’s lips are turned downward, but he’s slowly lowering his own hands. 

“Still,” The vampire murmurs, “I’m sorry. I should’ve given you more warning.” 

Jimin purses his lips together tightly and gives a short nod. He looks at the knife in his hand one final time and squeezes his eyes shut tightly. 

They’re.. They’re not them. They’re not. They’re not. He tries to think of something, anything else - and he sees that box smile, the glint of laughter, a warm hand in his own, the sleepiness of a nose pressing into his cheek… 

Jimin slowly places the knife onto the counter, curling his arms around his body. The kitchen is silent for a moment, time hanging, and when Namjoon speaks again, it’s awkward. 

“Can I.. help? Well, I can’t really cook so uh… but I can hold the strainer for you?” He looks hopeful, perked up just a little. 

Jimin pauses for a moment, his chest hammering. 

“Okay.” He whispers, and he moves to the side a little to allow Namjoon into the kitchen - the vampire moves slowly, keeps in his sight at all times. 

And if Jimin has the knife within range at all time… well, Namjoon knows, Jimin knows he knows - but he doesn’t say anything, just finds himself a nice deep bowl for his noodles and helps to strain them. 

Jimin listens to the vampire walk back upstairs rather noisily, and it’s only then that his heart begins to settle. 

Staring into steam, Jimin considers.

----

It’s been difficult for Taehyung too. That constant, lingering fear of loss makes him hang on a little too tight, leaves Jungkook and his vampire Hyungs having to ease him away from the human with cool hands, soft murmurs. It’s strange, really, because though Taehyung can feel the beat of Jimin’s heart, it’s so hard to read his face sometimes. 

Jimin will retreat back in on himself, small and vulnerable, and it makes every single hair on Taehyung’s body stand up. The instant urge to protect, to swaddle Jimin away from the entire world, even from his own coven. Finding some new image of normal in it all has been far from easy, and even now, Taehyung’s brain will yank him in strange directions, edge at his instincts in weird ways. 

But they’ve settled into something. Jimin can feel it, Taehyung can too, the coven can - these vampires dispute every single sight and claim Jimin has witnessed against vampires, their hands have never raised against them like previous have. 

They’re good people. Good vampires - and Jimin can clearly account to that now, can feel it in the slow, calmed beat of his own heart, can see it in the mild twinkle in the vampires’ eyes. They’ve calm, collected - Taehyung and Jungkook are a little too enthusiastic sometimes - but they’ve welcomed him with more than open arms, have easily incorporated him into their lives. 

----

Jimin learned to trust on a Friday afternoon. 

Jimin won’t deny that fear still sparks in his chest, even though he tries to label it as something else. But it’s slow - he’s been allowed his space, been allowed to breathe his way through his own panic attacks, and they’ve all been so gentle with him. Hoseok likes to pick him sweet little flowers, and Yoongi has learned how to make Jimin tea, but he’s still… he’s still cautious. Can feel his heart pound and bile rise in throat when they’re near. 

But he’ll breathe through it. 

He’s less quiet now, less secretive - and maybe that’s exactly why his foot snags in a piece of carpet on the staircase and Jimin falls with a loud yelp. He doesn’t even get a chance to curl in on himself - he’s smacking into the edge of the bannister with a thunk, spiralling down onto the floor and-

Ouch. 

He can’t help the gasp that draws from his mouth - and Jimin can feel his eyes growing way too hot as he curls in on himself. He’s… well, he’s made it to the floor at least, but his hands are curling over his leg now and- oh fuck. 

The tears start to swell out of his eyes, running down his cheeks fat and fast. He’s- fuck, he must have hit the edge really hard, because there’s a gash just underneat his knee cap, and there’s blood on his hands now too - it’s not horrific, but-

“Jimin Hyung?” 

Jimin’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. 

Oh- 

Oh no. 

His head whips up, a tear rolling down his cheek, and- and Jungkook is at the end of the corridor, starting forward with such concern.

“Are you okay-?” 

“Don’t!” Jimin shouts - and that’s probably the worst thing he can do, because Jungkook freezes - his pupils dilating as he smells the blood - but also because Taehyung comes barrelling around the corner at his cry, eyes blown wide. 

“Jimin-ah?” He calls worriedly, his pretty face creased, and he’s running down the corridor toward him. Jimin tries, he tries to plaster his hands over his wound, body shaking as he starts to sob because he knows what is going to happen, he-

“Don’t-” 

“Shhh, it’s okay, fuck, you’re hurt-” Taehyung is whispering, and he’s running a hand down Jimin’s arm soothingly, “It’s okay baby, it’s okay-” 

“You’re- bleeding.” Jungkook says faintly, and Jimin stares up at him out of red-rimmed eyes, shaking like a leaf as he prepares himself for Taehyung to snap, to pounce. 

“I- I can’t come any closer, I’ll- HYUNG!” Jungkook shouts, and he’s sprinting in the opposite direction, completely disappearing from sight. 

And now, now Jimin is alone. 

He squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that it hurts, and he prepares himself for the pain. For Taehyung to notice, to grab at his leg and bite down, the pain that will come with it - physically and in his heart, and he’s, he’s so-

“Does it hurt that bad?” Taehyung whimpers, and Jimin flinches as he feels the nestling press a hand tightly over his own, applying pressure, “Oh, Min-” 

“What happened?” 

Jimin blinks tearily as he sees the whirlwind that is Seokjin bustling down the corridor toward them. He tightens his jaw, prepares himself for the older vampire to dive too - this is how it goes, always, always, it’ll begin here - and Jungkook is lingering at the end of the corridor, his face… worried? 

“Oh, you poor thing,” Seokjin coos softly, and he’s kneeled by Jimin’s side, gently grabbing at his wrists, “Let me see-” 

“No!” Jimin sobs, and he presses his hands down harder, as if that’s going to keep the vampires off of him, “Please- please-” 

“Shhh,” Seokjin soothes as he slowly tugs Jimin’s wrists away, and the human utterly sobs. He grinds his teeth together, prepares for it, prepares for- 

There’s… there’s a handkerchief pressed to his cut. 

Jimin sniffles softly, tears clinging to his eyelashes, and Seokjin is talking to him soothingly as he slowly tugs a wipe from somewhere, gently cleans the cut. 

“There we go.” He whispers, sticking a plaster over it, “Did you trip? On the carpet? Which step, darling, I’ll get that fixed for you-” 

All Jimin can do is stare at him in shock, his heart hammering in his chest. He can’t even control it, the way the words start to spill from his mouth, hiccups drowning at his throat. 

“You… you didn’t…” 

Seokjin looks at him, brow furrowed a little in worry. 

“You didn’t… bite.” Jimin hiccups, and a fresh tear rolls down his cheek, “You- I was bleeding and you didn’t- you didn’t-” 

There’s understanding in Seokjin’s eyes now, vibrant and devastating. 

His hand slowly comes to rest on Jimin’s knee and the human sobs, his entire body curling with it. 

“Jimin-ah,” The vampire says softly, and his fingers are underneath Jimin’s chin, tipping his head up to make eye contact. 

“Your blood,” The vampire says slowly, eye contact for every single word. “Smells very nice. Very sexy, some damned good blood. But do you know what is even sexier, even better than blood?” 

Jimin hiccups. 

“ Consent.” Seokjin whispers with a soft smile, and the human bursts into tears again. He can feel Taehyung pressing tightly to his side, confused and unsure, and he’s gripping at Jimin’s shirt so tightly that it might rip, and oh, oh - Seokjin has curled an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a half hug. 

“Taehyung he.. He didn’t bite either.” Jimin hiccups eventually when they pull away. He looks at Taehyung with a knitted brow and the nestling stares back at him with big, curious eyes. 

“But he’s- he’s a nestling, so he should… right?” 

“Well, he definitely needs to wash his hands right this instant.” Seokjin says firmly, eyeing up Taehyung’s bloody hands, “Jungkookie kept his distance for a reason, it is harder for nestlings to have control but…” 

“The only thing I want with Jimin’s blood,” Taehyung says proudly, waving a red hand in the air, “Is for it to stay inside of him!” 

Jimin looks at him with huge, wonderful eyes as the nestling beams at him, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. 

He…. he…. Oh. 

Oh. 

----

They’ve settled into something now.

Maybe into something a little more. 

Taehyung can’t forget the moment he stepped into the kitchen, eyes bleary from his nap, hair sticking out in random directions - only the startle, eyes blowing wide. 

Yoongi is there, pulling back away from the counter abruptly, red sparking at the edges of his ears, and- and Jimin is leaned back against the counter, cheeks completely flushed and his hand over his mouth, and… and the realisation hits Taehyung hard. 

His lips split into a wide, beaming smile. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs, and Jimin buries his face into his hands with a squeak. Yoongi’s lips are pressed firmly together, his eyes averted, and they were- they were kissing. 

“Cute.” Taehyung murmurs, and he squeezes at Jimin’s hip as he passes by, his chest completely full. Seeing his coven twisting their hearts around Jimin is something so- so warm, watching as his own lovers slowly incorporate into something with all of them, little moments frozen in time. 

And Yoongi kisses nice, Jimin can definitely attest to that. He isn’t entirely sure how it happens, but it’s slow - from jumping and flinching away from them all - to finding himself pressed up against the kitchen counter, kissed slowly by one of them. 

He’s only kissed Yoongi though, it’s the only thing his heart will allow right now - he can’t even imagine kissing Taehyung yet, not without the nestling knowing what it means to him, to them. But Jungkook has kissed his cheek, and he’s allowed Seokjin to press kisses to his forehead consistently over the past week, and it’s… it makes his heart beat so damned fast that it makes him feel a little dizzy, really. 

They’re good. They’re people that Jimin are learning to love, learning to allow them to love him back - and there are still bumps here and there - but they’re settling into something liveable, something where warm kisses are pressed between them all, the slow intertwine of fingers. 

Taehyung shifts just a little, eyes darting to the human curled on his chest. Jimin doesn’t even flinch, just blinks sluggishly as he continues to stare out the window. Taehyung breathes out softly, and runs his fingers down the human’s spine - it’s fascinating, really, the warmth ripple of skin underneath his fingertips, and it’s such a blessing that Jimin allows him to do this now. To hold him, to cuddle him close, to reach for him without the human hesitating. 

Taehyung leans forward just a little to press his nose into Jimin’s hair, and he feels the human shiver just a little, letting out a content hum. He feels the cheek squished into his chest sink just a little more, Jimin’s fingers tightening at his clothing, and it’s. So…. peaceful. Lovely, calm. 

Hoseok is somewhere behind them - Taehyung has lost track of him, lullabied by the moonlight and Jimin’s warmth - but his sire is back there somewhere. Resting in one of the armchairs with a book, the soft rustle of pages casually rippling through their quiet moment. 

It’s them. It’s how it should be, and Taehyung breathes in slowly, allowing Jimin’s scent to coat his entire being. 

He smells… like passion fruit. It’s a body wash that Jungkook uses, something that Jimin now uses too, and it clings to him in such a nice way - sweet and tender. And of course, there’s that underlying human scent of warmth, of life. Taehyung breathes him in again, but his nose wrinkles just a little. 

He smells… wrong. Now don’t get Taehyung wrong, the way Jungkook smells is absolutely lovely - Taehyung has always adored his sweet smelling self, and the scent in itself isn’t bad, but it being on Jimin…. Is strange. Like something is nagging at the back of his mind, trying to tell him something. 

Taehyung sniffs at his hair again slowly, trying to form words in his mind - but they’re incomprehensible, unable to recognize. So, instead, he just opens his mouth and allows his words to drip. 

“You smell nice,” Taehyung begins, and Jimin hums at his words, a smile forming over his lips. It presses into the vampire’s chest, imprinting there, the nose nuzzling into his hair continuing as the vampire moves on. 

“Like Jungkookie. It smells good, sweet,”

That thought is back again, wriggling in the edges of his mind, and Taehyung tries to lean into it, his eyebrows creasing. The words flow automatically, rolling off of his tongue.

“- but it doesn’t smell like you. It’s a nice scent, but it’s not… it’s not how you should smell. We…” there’s that thought, pastel and calm, “You should smell like… like gingerbread. That warm, winter kind of smell. We need to get you that perfume again. I.. I don’t remember what it’s called but it’s in that pretty little yellow bottle, with that little glass statue on the lid… you should wear that again, that smells like Jimin.” 

Taehyung’s mind settles back into himself, but Jimin is suddenly moving - pushing himself up with a hand on Taehyung’s chest. The vampire blinks at him, a little shocked by the sudden movement and- and the human is staring at him with wide eyes, his mouth a little parted. 

“What?” Taehyung asks worriedly, “Did I.. did I say something wrong?” 

Hoseok shuts his book quietly, eyes on them. 

Jimin swallows thickly, and his mouth opens and closes a few times, no words forming. But then, a light sheen is slowly pasting over his eyes, and when his mouth opens - shaky words fall out into the air. 

“I… I never told you that.” 

“Huh?” 

“I never told you that.” Jimin whispers, his voice teary, “I- Since I’ve come back to you, I- I’ve never told you that. I- I haven’t used that perfume since you left, you can’t have smelt it on me, I don’t have it anymore so- but I- I’ve never told you that.” 

Taehyung’s brow furrows sharply and he bites at his bottom lip with a frown. 

“But… but that’s how you smell. That’s Jimin’s smell, you-” He can see it in his mind now, the little body sitting on their vanity, “That’s…” 

“I haven’t told you that, Taehyung-ah,” Jimin whispers, a tear rolling down his cheek, “Not since I… I lost you.” 

“But I.. I remember!” Taehyung stresses, and his mouth parts for another word when… when the previous word rolls over in his mind. Oh. oh. Taehyung freezes, his hands gripping sharply at Jimin’s hips, and he stares wordlessly into the human's eyes. 

Jimin is crying in earnest now, his entire body shaking, and he can hear Hoseok moving toward them, his sire cooing softly. 

“I… I remember.” Taehyung says uselessly, his face collapsing as his own eyes fill with tears, because the implications of it all, that little perfume bottle now seen in his memory, a scarlet rose amidst the darkness. 

Hoseok is there, hugging Jimin to his chest softly, reaching out to cup at Taehyung’s cheek - and the nestling sobs, clutching on his Hyung like a lifeline. 

“I remember.” He repeats over and over again, his entire body shaking, until Jimin throws himself into his arms, burying his face into his throat. “I remember!” 

That warm, wafting scent of gingerbread, Jimin bringing the bottle home for the first time and asking Taehyung to smell it, and then it clinging to his soft skin everyday since then, so warm, so Jimin. 

“I remember.” Taehyung sobs, and Jimin cries with him. 

----

Jimin’s laughter rings off of the walls like fairy lights, bouncing around to find rest in Taehyung’s heart. The nestling pauses in the corridor, closing his eyes to allow the sound to nestle right underneath his rib cage. Hearing Jimin’s laughter is a blessing that Taehyung will never take for granted, the way he interacts with their Hyungs and Jungkook with an absence of fear now. 

And the taste of his lips, a very recent development, but one that Taehyung will never take for granted. 

He moves into the doorway of the living room, his lips curving into a gentle smile as he sees Jimin there - wrapped in Namjoon’s arms, the human giggling as Jungkook tries to paint his toenails - tongue sticking out from between his rabbit teeth. 

Taehyung just can’t stop staring. The pop of Namjoon’s dimple, the laughter as Jungkook brushes his fingers over the underside of Jimin’s feet coyly - and the way the human squeals, trying to retract in on himself as his entire body shudders with giggles. 

It’s… it’s almost familiar as Taehyung leans against the doorframe, his head tipping a little to one side. 

It’s slow, gentle - the wash of it, so natural - but an image is slowly oozing into his mind, coating his memory. Jimin’s hair is lighter here, and there’s a tiny bow holding it back into a little ponytail - but he looks over his shoulder, mouth beaming into a smile, and he’s laughing at Taehyung, his warm hand reaching out to him. 

“ Jimin.” Taehyung calls, and there’s meaning behind the word now. Hazy memories being carefully concreted by new ones, a dynamic of love so soft and welcoming that Taehyung wants to remain here forever, forever, and he shall. 

Jimin looks up, his nose wrinkled, and he smiles at Taehyung so softly, so affectionately. 

“ Taehyung!” He giggles, and it feels an awful lot like coming home.