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So Rises the Moon

Read on Ao3 Here

Pairing: Jungkook/Everyone (OT7 - Poly)

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fantasy, Slooooooooooooooowburn ( I seriously mean slow)

Word Count: 28k

Chapters: 5/?

Warnings: Drug Addiction, Alcohol Dependence, Blood, Gore, Murder, Minor Character Death, Unhealthy Relationships (past), Suicidal Thoughts

Summary: Jeon Jungkook hadn't made a lot of good decisions in the past year or so. He would like to chalk this up to being in his early twenties - to dropping out of school and having a general string of bad luck.

But nothing had been quite as stupid as taking an early morning jog - still drunk - and ending up entwined with a world he would have much preferred to have never known about.

Or, Jungkook's life is a mess - getting turned into a vampire doesn't fix that. Featuring: a very powerful and very concerned Bangtan coven.

Note: I’m going to post chapter one to be accessible here, if you want me to post the rest here let me know ( the other four chapters are currently available on Ao3 at the link at the top of this post), and I'll make some separate posts in the usual fashion!

Jungkook felt horrible. He tried to lift his head off of the cold and slightly damp surface it was resting on but let it fall back once as the muscles in his neck strained.

What had he done last night? Where was he?

He didn’t want to open his eyes in fear of whatever migraine awaited him after going to Mingyu’s party. But he knew he would eventually have to. He took stock of the state of his body. He was sore. Exceptionally so. His shirt was wet and distantly, he could hear the sounds of… a forest? He mentally prepared himself for blinding pain and forced his eyes open. A very familiar sight greeted him.

He was laid out right along the running trail. Some of the tension in his shoulders eased. He had often found himself in this forest before the sun rose, running along the pre-marked out trail. It was one of his favorite places to run in Busan. But he hadn’t gone running in quite a while now. Hadn’t had any motivation to exercise much outside of the boxing gym in the past 8 months - and even the boxing gym had pushed him out eventually.

But that didn’t explain how he got here - or what he was doing sleeping by the trail. He ignored the burning sensation in his muscles and used one of the nearby trees to haul himself up and onto his own two feet. The last thing he could remember was leaving a party. He wasn’t even sure how he had gotten invited. He had promised someone that he wouldn’t drive his motorcycle drunk so he had - maybe foolishly - decided to walk home. He pinched his eyes shut, trying to remember if he had ever actually made it home. Vague echoes of dropping his phone in the shower sloshed around in his mind.

So he had made it home.

He looked down at his clothing only to find that he was no longer in the white button-down he had splashed with fake blood to make a budget-friendly vampire costume. The snap-on fangs were also notably missing from his mouth. Instead, he was dressed in his running clothes.

Had he woken up to go running? With a hangover? Why did his stomach hurt so badly?

The shaking of his hands wasn’t anything new - those tremors seemed to always come after a night of drinking now. But they morphed into full-body quivers too quickly. Maybe he was getting worse. Maybe he was being stupid.

But he could remember the walk home - could remember distinctly eyeing each pair of headlights that passed him. He had toyed with the idea of stepping in front of one for a moment or two.

But he hadn’t done it.

No, that would have been too brave for Jungkook. He was killing himself slowly instead. His old roommate had spat that line at him 3 months ago - Jungkook was beginning to agree with him.

He ran a hand down his face, shaking his head as he tried to clear away the strange brain fog attempting to overcome him. Alarm surged through him. Had he been mugged?

In a panic, he patted his pockets. He found his wallet still tucked into his running shorts - but couldn’t feel the familiar weight and bulk of his phone. He dropped back down to the forest floor and searched with his hands along the root-addled ground.

When his search came up empty he only let out a long groan. He really couldn’t afford a new phone. He had been working as many hours as he could have possibly picked up - but tourism season was over in Busan and the bar he worked at, Voltaire, only brought in so much income - certainly not enough to cover the amount he drank at work and the amount he would take home - and definitely not enough to cover his rent and tuition.

Clearly, he wasn’t doing well. The only explanation he could have for his current state of affairs was that he had drunk too much the night before, woke up in the morning for a run - likely still drunk - only to pass out in the forest. Now he was covered in what felt like some slimy and sickly variation of sweat and probably had his shift at the bar coming up. He couldn’t afford to miss this shift. It was Halloween by this point, and while the holiday fell on a Sunday this year, he was certain the bar would still be packed.

He would just have to show up to his shift without his phone and covered in sweat. He would try and wash up in the cramped bathroom beforehand of course - he had done it before. But realistically he might not have time. He looked up at the moon - summoning up some mostly forgotten knowledge about the moon’s placement in the sky relative to the time. It couldn’t be much past 7:00 pm. He still had two hours to get to work.

He started the slow trek back to the city, his eyes trained on his feet as he tried not to trip over anything in the dark. He was certain he was already covered in mud, he didn’t need to add insult to injury.

He was so hungry.

His stomach churned as he thought of grabbing ramyun from a convenience store before clocking in. He shrugged his shoulders and changed his course.

It didn’t take long for him to get there, and even less time for him to begin devouring the food. But somewhere along the way, the food began to taste rotten. He looked away from the noodles only to find someone sitting across the table from him and talking.

Had he been carrying on a conversation without noticing? Did he know this guy?

Jungkook would have remembered meeting him. His appearance was… striking. His silver hair alone stood out but his features seemed almost angelic if it weren’t for the slightly upturned lips and haughty look. The golden contacts were slightly off-putting but it was Halloween after all.

“Are you alright?” The man’s plump lips parted to speak and Jungkook found himself unable to meet his eyes, instead focusing on the bulging vein in the man’s neck. Man, he needed to get out more- this was getting ridiculous. Never before had he fantasized about a neck vein.

“What?”

The angelic man looked confused for a moment - seeming to fixate on Jungkook’s mouth for a moment too long.

“You seem confused - are you okay?”

“What are you dressed up as?” His words felt slurred coming out of his mouth. Jungkook tried to remember the man sitting down or even introducing himself but came up blank.

“You said you were really thirsty - I recommended a few places you could find what you were looking for.” The man’s eyes quickly flashed to the cashier and Jungkook’s confusion only grew.

He was really thirsty. The man mentioning it only made the sensation stronger. He pushed the ramyun away from him and walked outside - only registering the man’s alarm at being walked away from so suddenly after he had gotten back onto the street.

-

Something was off. Something was really wrong. How had he ended up outside of this club? When had it gotten so late? His face felt wet, he pulled the ends of his sleeves over his hands and wiped at his cheeks and chin. Why was he so sweaty? He looked down at his sleeves and only found the black fabric stained a touch darker.

Had he taken something at the party? That was all he could think of to explain his lapse in memory. Things weren’t making sense and he couldn’t get his brain to concentrate on anything but how thirsty he was. His stomach churned as the taste of the ramyun came creeping back up his throat. His hands met the wall of the building as he doubled over, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the street.

He knew he hadn’t bought the spicy red sauce ramyun - so why was his vomit so red? He looked away from it - fearing another wave of nausea as he held himself back upright. He must be sick. He must have taken something he shouldn’t have. His hands went to his pocket to google what he could have taken to feel this sick but - what was he looking for again?

There was the man he had been speaking to at the convenience store standing in front of the same club, talking idly to someone dressed up as a cowboy. The urge to go inside and away from the pair who turned their heads towards him before their eyes tugged at him.

He shook his head and felt his damp hair sticking to his forehead.

He was thirsty. He was cold.

He pushed into the club - making his way towards the bar. He just needed water. Everyone was having fun in their costumes - and he paid only some attention to the people he had to nudge past. A few people tried to pull him into dancing - someone else complimented his costume.

What costume? Sweaty jogger? He scoffed.

He made it to the bar and waved down the bartender. He might have normally felt guilty for the rude gesture but he was so thirsty.

“Water! Water please!” His voice cracked from disuse as he tried to yell over the music.

The bartender nodded and grabbed a glass from under the bar. She quickly filled it about three-fourths of the way with water before sliding the glass towards him and moving on to paying customers. Jungkook couldn’t blame her - he had likely done the same at some point. He grabbed the glass with both hands - not trusting himself with just one.

-

He was in the bathroom. He was rushing towards the toilet and throwing up the contents of his stomach. Why was it red? Why did that ring a bell in his mind?

He felt like he was moving through something thick like jello. He could hear the music in the club still but it seemed deafened somehow.

He was so thirsty.

He struggled to get back up onto two feet again, flushing the toilet as he moved into the bathroom. He pushed past the people standing in line for the toilet and wiped a hand across his mouth. He felt disgusting.

His eyes scanned the room. He found the direction of the bar and tried to orient himself. Everything felt like it was spinning. His eyes doubled back to meet a pair of yellow eyes. Why did those seem important?

He was so dizzy.

What time was it? He reached for his phone only to find it wasn’t in his pocket. When had he lost that?

He shook his head again. He knew he was forgetting something. Something important. He tucked a few stray hairs behind his ears and made his way back to the bar.

“Water please!”

“Look kid - it’s a busy night if you’re going to keep asking me for water just take the jug.” The bartender quickly shoved a pitcher of water at him and a glass.

Jungkook wondered why she was so angry. He had only asked for water.

Why was he so confused?

He took a deep breath and drank more water.

-

His tongue was in someone’s mouth. How much did he drink? Was he blacking out?

He didn’t stop his motions - worried about letting the other person know how drunk he was. He peeked one eye open - they were in a club, his back was against the wall as the man in front of him leaned his hips closer and closer to Jungkook’s.

His mouth felt so dry.

He resisted the urge to swallow and pushed his hips forward as the man’s hands began to ride up his shirt. He was handsome in a classic way, his hair pushed back and styled like a Hollywood movie icon. Jungkook couldn’t place who he might be dressed up as.

Dressed up as?

Oh, it was Halloween. He knew that. He had thought that before hadn’t he?

The man moved his lips towards his neck and Jungkook winced. He felt bruised. He took the momentary pause to switch their positions. He felt some clarity move through his mind, like a cool towel after a run.

He wanted this man. He really really wanted him.

His mouth found the man’s jaw and he kissed along it as he brought a hand towards his neck to hold him in place. He was squirming underneath Jungkook and he felt something deep within him fight the urge to hold him still - to ensure he stopped moving.

His teeth clattered against each other as something closer to adrenaline than withdrawal ran through him. He paid it no mind - moving to nose along the man’s hairline. His skin tasted sweet despite the salty sweat that ran down it. He smiled and felt as if something was bubbling up inside of him. Something hot and comforting.

He didn’t know when it had happened - but when he came to again, his teeth were sunk into the man’s neck. A sick and twisting euphoria ran through him as he pulled the man’s head back by his hair - taking in the sweet and thick blood mouthfuls at a time. It filled his mouth and eased the ache in his gums - the empty feeling in his stomach eased if only a little as the liquid began to dribble down his chin and onto his own chest.

The moment of reprieve from his pain only lasted a moment. He blinked and he was being dragged outside by his collar, his feet struggling to gain purchase as whatever had him by the scruff of his hair only continued forward. It had begun to rain.

His heels tried to dig in to stop the movement but they only slipped in the quickly forming mud. His movements felt weighed down by something heavy. He wanted to lie down - he wanted to stop moving. He felt sick.

He didn’t have time to stop the force dragging him before his head whipped to the side, vomit leaving his body with the burn of his stomach acid. It burned coming up his throat and it burned as some of it leaked out of his nose painfully. He moaned as he was promptly dropped onto the ground. He tried to get his limbs underneath him but only continued emptying the contents of his stomach.

A face swam into his vision - yellow eyes. He knew those eyes, didn’t he?

“What the fuck were you doing feeding on an unapproved human in Kim lands?”

Jungkook didn’t want to piece together why he couldn’t understand what the man was saying, only continued hanging his head low, waiting for the next contraction of his stomach to bring up whatever he had drunk to get so sick. When it didn’t come he tried to get to his feet - his hands and arms shaking in protest as he pushed himself up from the muddy floor.

He wanted to go back to this apartment. He wanted to go home. He looked up - trying to orient himself. He would just walk. He had to walk. He couldn’t afford a taxi.

“I asked you a question.”

His eyes moved back down to the golden-eyed man before him. He was shorter than he had seemed when Jungkook was looking at him from the floor. How had such a small man dragged him into the forest? But he looked angry at Jungkook. He couldn’t fathom why.

“What coven are you from?” He stepped closer to Jungkook, a surprisingly firm hand circling around his upper arm, keeping him rooted to the spot and pausing the swaying movement Jungkook hadn’t even noticed.

“Pardon?” He pulled away from the man - feeling the adrenaline heat up his limbs.

“I asked you what coven you’re from. Who in their right mind would allow a fledgling out on a night like this?” The angelic man’s features were contorted into something unreadable. Disgust maybe?

Jungkook thought he had no right to be angry. This man had put his hands on Jungkook - had manhandled him into leaving a club he didn’t necessarily want to leave and had dragged him back into the forest through the mud and away from the only thing - the only person he had wanted to sleep with in a few months.

His eyes looked frantically back towards the lights - some animalistic and unstoppable part of him trying to track down the man he had been so unceremoniously pulled off of.

The man in front of him grabbed his jaw, nearly snapping his neck with the force.

Something in his posture and gaze dampened the heat in his chest and the frantic pace of his breath.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.” The answer left his lips without him allowing it to. When was the confusion going to stop? Why was he even out again?

His eyes widened - his shift.

He pulled back from the man in front of him, eyes wide as he looked in the direction of the street - “My job - I’m going to miss my shift.”

The grip on his jaw only tightened as he was forced to meet the gaze of the silver-haired man before him. His contacts seemed to glow for a moment.

“Stop being coy - how old are you and what coven are you from?”

Jungkook blinked. The man in front of him was clearly on the verge of some mental break - or possibly way too into role-playing.

“Listen, I don’t have time for this - really I’m going to be late for m-” His eyes landed on that same thick vein pulsing on the man’s neck. He swallowed as heat bloomed in his stomach.

His mouth burned.

He opened his jaw to relieve some of the sensation.

Jungkook was on the forest floor again. He couldn’t really register why he was looking up at the bits of sky peeking at him from between the trees until a face hovered into his view - another man with gold contacts. The cowboy. He remembered the cowboy.

He also remembered to breathe. But his relief was short-lived - the cowboy’s knee was digging into his chest. He struggled against the weight - trying to gasp in air but the eyes just kept their watch on him. Distantly he could hear the angel man asking questions “Why is he doing that?” and “Is he sick?” were among the only ones that made their way into his oxygen-deprived brain.

“Why are you fighting me?” The cowboy finally spoke - his voice was surprisingly low and sounded like he wasn’t putting an ounce of physical effort into keeping Jungkook glued to the mud underneath him.

Jungkook would also like to know the answer to that question. Hadn’t he wished - even a little bit that a car would have hit him on his way home? Was this not an answer to his weak but disappointingly genuine prayer?

He stopped moving. If he was going to get murdered by weird theater kids in the forest he wasn’t going to spend his last moments straining against someone he realistically should have easily overpowered.

At the very least he would stop feeling so overwhelmingly needy. For something that he was now acknowledging wasn’t thirst. It felt more frantic - it felt like withdrawal. His gaze moved back to the unblinking stars above him. He had thought he was doing better. He thought he was easing off the drinking, the drugs, and the partying.

“What coven are you from?”

“Please let me die in peace.” It came out as a groan as he closed his eyes. The pressure on his chest and neck lifted - the additional pair of hands continued to hold down his arms but Jungkook allowed that.

“What?”

“You’re going to kill me right?”

“What? Kill you?” the cowboy’s face hovered over his own and Jungkook cursed the part of his brain that informed him how cute the man before him looked when he was confused. A small pout turned downwards. His eyes traveled down to his exposed neck.

“Yeah, you and your friend here. Dragging me into a forest? Attacking me?”

“You attacked him first.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened - another bar fight?

“Ah, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have been drinking so much.” An arm moved instinctually to grab a piece of hair behind his head but was held back by the pair of arms still holding him down.

He had said this sentence too many times in the last few months. He was really tired of fucking up.

He was probably going to lose his job on top of it all. He could imagine the look of annoyance on any of his coworker’s faces as they realized they were being called in to cover another one of his shifts. The owner could only vouch for him so many times - his sympathy for Jungkook had to meet a logical end.

The silver-haired man sighed, running a hand down his face as he moved to place his weight back onto his heels and off of Jungkook.

Something in Jungkook felt cold at the loss of pressure.

“What’s your name?” His voice softened a touch - as if speaking to a child.

“Jungkook.”

“Coven name?”

Jungkook resisted the urge to roll his eyes and found it somewhere in his brain fog to connect this to his last name.

“Jeon.”

The silver-haired man only stared through him as if trying to remember something. Jungkook looked over to the other man, the one with the brown puppy-like curls, and opened his mouth without thinking.

“What’s your name?”

The curly-haired man smirked and a small but realistic-looking fang peeked out from behind his lip. “Kim Taehyung.”

He looked like he was waiting for something.

Jungkook’s eyes widened as he moved to shake the man’s hand - the compulsory it’s nice to meet you dying on his tongue as he remembered where he was.

His hands were still pinned down by some potentially murderous theater kids in vampire costumes.

How did he get here again?

He closed his eyes - trying to remember, the thirst building up as his mind ran through question after question quicker than he could find the answers.

“I’m Jimin.” He opened his eyes again. the silver-haired vampire enthusiast looked down at him - continuing on and not waiting for a response like Taehyung had. “The issue isn’t you drinking - it’s how you went about it. I can’t believe you come from a coven who wouldn’t teach you this.” Disappointment screwed up the angelic face that Jungkook kept struggling to place. Why did he look familiar again?

“I’m sorry - have we met?”

The angel - Jimin only continued talking over him. Jungkook tried to grab the words but they kept slipping away from him. He was tired. He was so thirsty.

He felt distracted by every movement of Jimin’s neck - the muscles moving smoothly underneath the skin - the vein laid gently atop his jugular.

He shook his head.

Those weren’t normal thoughts. Those were drunk thoughts.

“You killed three people in public - unapproved people. I’ve spent the last three hours cleaning up a-”

His head cleared just enough to catch the sentence.

“I didn’t kill anyone. You must have me confused with someone else.” Jungkook wanted to kiss the ground underneath him. They didn’t want to kill him - they had him confused with a murderer.

“Yeah you definitely did - there’s probably still skin under your nails. Look at your shirt.”

He looked down - his arms suddenly free of the weight that had been holding them in place. There was something distinctly fleshy and red under his nails. The dampness on his shirt began to itch as if he had just begun to notice it - or it had just begun drying. The thick smell of iron ran through his nostrils and whatever had begun to calm inside of him reared its ugly head back.

Had he attacked someone?

Had he blacked out and honest to god attacked someone? Three someones? The adrenaline pumping through him didn’t seem to know where to go, only serving to make him shake harder than he already had been.

“Hey - hey look at me. How old are you?” Jimin grabbed his jaw, angling it towards him again.

Jungkook wanted to cry “I told him.” He angled his chin towards the silver-haired man sitting just to the right of him “I’m twenty-two.”

The two shared a look between themselves, communicating something that Jungkook didn’t put much effort into deciphering. A series of scenarios ran through his head. He would be arrested - he would be put in jail and they would tell his grandmother what he had done. He would run away - flee the country - wait he hadn’t renewed his passport. Plus, he definitely deserved to go to jail.

“Do you think you’re human?”

“Yes, fuck - please stop messing with me. Please stop messing with my head. Did I hurt someone?”

Jimin and Taehyung shared a look that Jungkook didn’t understand. They looked scared.

“Fuck.”