Chapter Text
Kim Seokjin was a confident person. He was also wrong quite a lot, but he stuck closely to the idea that “confident and wrong” was a better way to live than “timid and right.”
For example, he had confidently turned down several modeling contracts in his late teens and early twenties, sure of more fulfilling career opportunities to come. Now, he was approaching 30, and although he had a decent-size social media following for his mukbangs and gaming streams and a desk job at RBW Entertainment, it wasn’t exactly as glamorous or fulfilling a life as he had dreamed. Especially when his childhood best friend Sandeul was a successful idol on the label, and once upon a time had begged Jin to audition too. Jin had confidently — and wrongly — assumed neither he nor his friend would ever stand a chance at passing an idol audition, let alone do well enough to debut.
He was very proud of Sandeul and his idol group, B1A4. Jin always cheered them on from the sidelines as they won awards and performed on music shows and toured first Korea, then Asia, and then the world. In this particular instance, Jin had been happy to be proven wrong. But he did still think about what ifs, sometimes. Jin’s job in RBW’s sales department was engineered by Sandeul, as Jin had no experience in the industry.
What he did have was plenty of charisma. Jin’s colleagues often marvelled at his looks, suggesting he should be in front of the camera himself, but Jin wasn’t delusional enough to believe that was possible. He was too old now, for one. He had absolutely no skill for dancing, either. Perhaps in another life he could have learned, but not now. Not at 29, with knees that ached when he walked home in the rain and no natural sense of rhythm. Not to mention he had bills to pay if he wanted to keep his small apartment in Seoul, and that meant he had to work full-time. There just wasn’t time left in his day to put in the hours required of a trainee, and he certainly wasn’t willing to play hyung to a bunch of tiny teenagers away from home for the first time.
So he was satisfied with his life, or so he confidently told himself whenever Sandeul couldn’t hang out because he was on tour, or when his manager dropped another impossibly large stack of sales reports on his desk, or when he went home to an empty apartment, night after night.
It was fine. He had made his choices in life and he was fine with them. He was kind of lonely, kind of sad, kind of bored, but mostly he was fine.
Sandeul often told Jin that he shouldn’t settle for “fine”, but Sandeul was off living the idol dream. He didn’t understand the quiet pocket of existence Jin had carved out for himself. It consisted mostly of his apartment, his computer, and the Internet, but it wasn’t a bad life. His job wasn’t too difficult, so he usually managed to succeed without overworking himself. His coworkers were friendly, his apartment was in a decent part of town, and he called his grandparents every Thursday after work.
His parents were another story, but that was a box he would rather leave shut.
Still, Jin’s thoughts often wandered. Like this evening, as he walked to the subway after yet another long shift, he felt himself drifting down the path of “what-ifs”. What if he had auditioned and debuted, like Sandeul? What if he had gone into modeling, or even better, acting? What if he had pursued an arts degree instead of a business one? What if he hadn’t come to Seoul at all, and instead moved abroad, or traveled the world with nothing but a dream? What if he wanted more than fine?
As Jin stepped off the subway and ambled down the path towards his apartment, he took a few extra moments to breathe in the warm late-summer air. Autumn was somewhere on the horizon, but August was dragging on and on. With each passing day, it felt like the world around him was frozen in stasis, only coming to life as he interacted with it. The only way he could truly describe it was like he hit a dead-end. He just kept repeating the same steps, day in and day out, but there was no life there, no passion, nothing truly worth living for.
He just…existed, and tried to remember that his existence wasn’t a bad one. So many others had it much, much worse. He had nothing to complain about, and it would be ungrateful of him to even think such thoughts.
Shaking himself out of the melancholy line of thought, he tried to focus on the video he planned to film later that night for his Youtube channel. Lately he had been getting a lot of traction out of critiquing cooking videos, his wit and humor propelling his views into the hundreds of thousands. It wasn’t consistent enough to be considered a viral channel, and he definitely wasn’t making any money off it, but he enjoyed the attention nevertheless. Besides, it was something to do to fill up the empty evenings alone in his apartment.
He shoved down the feelings threatening to creep up his throat and spill out onto the pavement. He was fine. There was nothing wrong. He just had to put one foot in front of the other, and learn to live with this dead-end life.
It could be much worse, he told himself as he reached the cool air of his apartment complex. At least he was confident that he knew himself. He was past the point of youthful surprises. And about that, he was confident he was right.
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Jungkook loved his hyungs, but sometimes they were incredibly dense.
Take Namjoon-hyung, for example. The man was irrefutably a genius, and probably the best elemental witch ever born, but he had no talent for modern technology. Which was almost as annoying as his Tae-hyung, an exemplary crystal witch who could find or make just about any stone or crystal in existence, but hated all of Jungkook’s “gadgets”, as he called them. Jungkook counted himself lucky that he was able to convince all his hyungs to carry smartphones, for safety if nothing else.
As an eclectic witch, Jungkook loved technology, both old and new. He also loved traditional methods of magic and witchery, and often found himself helping his hyungs with their potion-making or quietly sharing their space during meditation. But he couldn’t help that he found everything interesting.
Including YouTube.
No one else seemed very impressed by it, but Jungkook knew that several of his hyungs secretly watched videos anyway (Hobi-hyung was totally into ASMR and some day, Jungkook would prove it). Only one hyung, however, openly agreed that modern technology was super useful.
“Yoongi-hyung! Come here!” Jungkook shouted at the top of his lungs from the highest bedroom in their sprawling farmhouse. It was furthest away from his hyungs’ bedrooms, but it had the best Wifi signal, so Jungkook claimed it the second they had moved in several years ago.
There was no response to his shouts, which wasn’t surprising, but Jungkook knew they could all hear him if he was loud enough. He had made them all test it and everyone said they could hear him all the way down in the living room, 3 floors down. So there was no way Yoongi couldn’t hear him, unless he was sleeping or had his noise-canceling headphones on.
“Yoongi!” Jungkook called again, foregoing honorifics in the hope of annoying his hyung into responding. When there was still no response, he sighed, picked up his laptop, and bounded down the curved stairs to the floor below.
Yoongi was, predictably, lying in his bed, the most common place to find the dream witch, even during these late afternoon hours. He wasn’t sleeping though, just watching something on his phone while buried half under the covers.
“Hyunggg, I know you could hear me,” whined Jungkook as he jumped onto Yoongi’s bed, causing it to bounce. Yoongi shot him a glare, but it was devoid of any heat. Yoongi never could scold his favorite dongsaeng, a fact that Jungkook took advantage of whenever possible.
“Why should I when I know you’ll just come in here anyway?” Yoongi griped even as he turned over to give Jungkook his attention.
Jungkook rolled his eyes. “You’re so annoying, hyung. You have to see this video!”
“Fine, let me see,” said Yoongi, making no attempt to sit up. Jungkook scrambled over him to sit between Yoongi and the wall, propping his laptop on his knees and angling it for Yoongi to see.
On the screen was a YouTube video, paused on the face of one of the most gorgeous men Yoongi had ever seen. The man looked effortlessly handsome, and the intriguing spark in his eyes matched the mischievous smile on his face. Yoongi shook his head minutely and read the title, realizing it was a new mukbang, recently posted just the night before.
“He’s making your favorite!” Jungkook grinned. “And he’s such a good cook, and he’s funny, watch -”
Jungkook finally hit play. Yoongi winced as the sound abruptly kicked in, but then the handsome man spoke.
Yoongi’s eyes went wide as he stared, transfixed, as this man (Jin, Yoongi presumed, glancing at the username EatJin) made a stupid dad joke and winked at the camera before panning down to look at the ingredients laid out on his kitchen table.
“Kook-ah, call an emergency coven meeting.”
“What? Why?”
“Now, Jungkook.”
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Jin checked the stats on his latest video one last time before leaving work. The mukbang he had uploaded the night before was doing pretty well, all things considered. It currently had about 200,000 views, which was far from his highest view count, but really good for the first 24 hours. Plus, so far all the comments had been polite and complimentary, which for the Internet was always a huge win.
He smiled to himself and shut down his computer and began packing up his things when he noticed two of his coworkers heading straight for his cubicle. Eunji and Yejoon were both younger than him (only by a few years, but it still made him feel old) and constantly tried to get him to socialize outside of work hours.
Jin could admit they were fun to spend time with, but as the years passed he became increasingly less interested in doing anything involving strangers. These days it seemed like he was always tired, and going out and getting drunk had just about the same appeal as going to the dentist, or writing a particularly tedious sales report.
He hadn’t always been like this. In fact, he and Sandeul had thrown some truly epic parties back in their early 20s (one particular Christmas party was still considered legendary, the stories growing wilder and grander with each new wave of RBW trainees. Jin was careful to never confirm nor deny anything). But throwing a party now would just be so much effort, it wasn’t worth it.
He steeled himself and faced his young coworkers with a smile. Predictably, Eunji immediately began complimenting his latest video, and Yejoon chatted quickly about a new ramen place he wanted to try and wouldn’t Jin love to go with them, please hyung?
Before he knew it, Jin was following them out of the office, pretending it was totally his own idea to go with them. The restaurant wasn’t terribly far, and it’s not like he was going to do anything at home anyway. He could afford to loosen up a bit, anyway. One bottle of soju wasn’t going to kill him.
They quickly ordered the specials, and Jin waited with eager anticipation for the ramen that was supposedly the best in the city. Obviously his own cooking would be better, but sometimes restaurant chefs surprised him.
“Ooh, look at that!” Eunji gasped as their orders were delivered to the table.
A giant porcelain bowl was placed in front of each of them, filled to the brim with gorgeously arranged ingredients on a delicious-smelling bed of ramen noodles and broth. Jin was tentatively impressed, but the true test was the taste.
“Is it good?” asked Yejoon, as Eunji immediately dove in. She hummed happily, mouth full, and Yejoon laughed and followed suit.
Jin picked up his own chopsticks and gathered up several ingredients. He bit into it and chewed slowly, taking a moment to truly savor each taste.
It was…okay. By all rights he should have loved it, it was the exact temperature he preferred with all his favorite additions, but something about it was off. He frowned and gathered another bite, and then another, but the off feeling lingered.
His two coworkers didn’t seem to notice. Yejoon practically inhaled the bowl, while Eunji supplemented each bite with a healthy swig of soju. Jin poked at his own bowl, contemplating what it was missing, but coming up empty-handed.
They continued their meals in companionable silence until all three had emptied their bowls. It wasn’t Jin’s favorite ramen ever, but it was passable. He focused back on their conversation, nodding and smiling in the right places and only allowing himself to check his watch every five or so minutes. He was ready to go home and space out in his own bed.
Just as he was about to make his excuses and call it a night, he heard loud voices from the back of the restaurant. He turned in time to see a waiter storm out of the back, quickly followed by a red-faced chef.
The entire room grew quiet as the two argued in full view of the customers. Yejoon hurriedly paid the bill and suggested they leave, and Jin followed slowly, lingering just long enough to catch the words being exchanged between the two staff. It seemed the waiter was frustrated that the chef wasn’t listening to the orders and instead making what he wanted to see, and the waiter was enduring the ire of the customers in return.
Jin could feel the discontent radiating off the pair, and in a way he couldn’t really describe, it felt the same way his ramen had tasted. The same sense of offness that tainted his taste buds was again pervading his senses. It was really, really odd.
“Jin-oppa! Are you coming?”
Abruptly, Jin pulled himself out of his head and turned back to face the younger two. He grinned and said something in the affirmative, but in the back of his mind he kept puzzling over the strange experience.
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Jungkook managed to gather the entire coven in their mismatched living room about an hour after Yoongi called for an emergency meeting. They lived together just outside the city limits of Seoul, close enough for some of them to commute in when they needed to, but far enough for the others to indulge their more naturally-inclined magic. Yoongi was just grateful everyone was actually home for once.
Well, mostly. They had to wait a bit for Namjoon, who had wandered far out into the forest surrounding their property and gotten lost on the way back, although he wouldn’t admit it.
“At least you took your phone this time, did you remember to check the maps app like I showed you?” asked Yoongi, his worry poorly hidden under his annoyed tone.
“I was not lost!” Namjoon insisted as he scrubbed the dirt out from under his nails. It was quite typical of the elemental witch to spend his days out in the wild nature of their huge property. His inclination towards earth magic was part of the reason they settled out here in the first place, along with Jimin’s general distaste for city living.
Jimin always said he needed a good view of the sky both day and night to really attune to his cosmic magic, and the others were more than happy to oblige. They had a nice little Kia for Hoseok to drive to his dance classes in the city, and he would often drop off Jungkook and Yoongi at Yoongi’s recording studio when they wanted to lay down tracks. It was Yoongi’s prolific recording career that supported most of the coven. His tracks were popular, but he hadn’t really taken off until Jungkook started singing for him. Jungkook had a natural talent for it, and as soon as he realized it he worked incredibly hard to master the ability. The result was that his efforts combined with his innate magic created a sort of siren-like quality to his singing. It simply captivated everyone who listened, and Yoongi’s keen business mind leveraged their raw talents into several very lucrative recording contracts.
Thanks to their hard work and the classes Hoseok taught on the side, the coven did reasonably well for themselves. It allowed for Taehyung and Jimin to stay home as much as they needed, and gave Namjoon the freedom to pursue his interests both magical and mundane. Jungkook loved his hyungs fiercely and he knew they loved him back, and he was so happy to be able to take care of them in this way. They had taken care of him ever since he was a teenager, and he relished being able to provide for them in return.
That said, he still thought his hyungs were rather dense.
Jungkook rolled his eyes behind Namjoon’s back as he kept picking at the dirt under his nails. Namjoon was something of a germaphobe, which didn’t quite match his affinity for nature, but the rest of the coven just let it slide as one of the man’s many quirks. Finally Namjoon flicked his fingers out once, twice, three times, and small sparks of reddish-orange light flashed for the briefest of moments. He observed his now-spotless nails with satisfaction before finally turning his attention to Yoongi.
Yoongi was sitting on the big, cozy armchair near their brick fireplace. It was everyone’s favorite seat, but as Yoongi had called the meeting, he sat upon it imperiously as though demanding anyone try to deny him the right. For once, perhaps sensing the gravity of the situation, the rest of the coven simply squished together on the long L-shaped couch, although Jungkook plopped down on the massive bean bag right in the middle of the cushy, carpeted floor.
“So what’s this about, hyung?” asked Hoseok.
Yoongi took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I think we found our seventh.”
“What?!” Jimin exclaimed, sitting up straight. “Our seventh? How? Where? When?”
“Are you sure?” asked Taehyung, eyes shining brightly.
“I’m as sure as I can be,” Yoongi said. “I’ve been dreaming of him, but I didn’t remember until I saw him.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. “It’s Jin? From the mukbang?”
Yoongi nodded. “As soon as you showed me the video, I knew.”
Leaping to his feet, Jungkook let out a triumphant shout. “I found him! I found him! Did you hear that? I found our seventh and he’s super hot!”
Stunned silence followed for a few long moments, until Taehyung laughed.
“Damn right he’s hot, he’s ours.”