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#I am thinking about dying and ending it on a daily basis but everytime someone ask ill say im okay because in that moment they are there
mhilkshake · 4 years
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— han jisung x reader
— popular kid! jisung x wallflower! reader.
warning(s): mentions of illnesses, death scene ahead.
you were the silent type.
preferring silence over noise, liking how you work alone rather than be in a group who let you do all the work, and how your illness prevented you from meeting new people every passing day.
of course you thought of having friends a couple of times already, but you didn't exactly want to do it. we're talking about an illness right here. no, you didn't have cancer, you had tuberculosis. prior to your arrival at yellow wood academy located st the countryside, you were a city girl. everyday, you inhaled smoke within seoul and your uncle's smoking didn't help either. along with that, you had panic-attacks whenever you stood in places which were packed with people.
hence, why you didn't make friends. you know the feeling of losing a friend, and you don't want your friends, even if you did have some, to fret over you and be forgotten that easily. it causes pain in both parties. you always sat there at your lunch table, gazing at other kids laughing and smiling with their friends longingly, knowing that you won't need them because your time on earth was already calculated, but there was no specific time to be set, so you may die at an unexpected time.
frankly, you started taking medicine at a later time. you never even realized you had tubercolosis until you coughed up blood.
there was no guaranteeing your life anymore, and you were always ready to go, because what reason was there for you to stay?
oh, right. there was han jisung.
so this one cute guy named han jisung, he was always on your mind. you didn't really talk to him or interacted with him in some other way than that one time you bumped with his shoulder on the corridors causing your books to fall out. you immmediately crouched down to take your books after apologizing without looking at your poor victim, but you realized it was THE han jisung who picked up your book for you and smiled at you brightly while replying an 'it's okay'.
that was the only time you interacted.
your lunch table was next to jisung and his friends' table which made you glance at them from time to time to stare at jisung. creepy, but that was the only way for your heart to stop telling you that you should not talk to him, no matter how cute he may be, or how his smile affects your daily live or how his singing soothes your ears. yeah, whipped.
so you just stared at the boy, ignoring the whispers of your heart which ached. one time, when you were eating by yourself just as usual, jisung noticed you were alone yet again as he always did.
truthfully, jisung did find you cute.
when you scrunched your nose whenever you read a word you didn't understand from the textbook you were reading, or when you fall asleep on your table without putting your head down on your arms. he also noticed the stares you throw at him and he couldn't say it wasn't sparking up his interest on you.
so, he sat in front of you while you were reading a book and you couldm't believe your eyes. like, the han jisung, the 3racha producer of your school, the ace of basketball team, the brightest ray of sunshine was sitting in front of you and trying to initiate a conversation with you.
rather than feeling butterflies, you were nervous.
"hi, y/n!"
this time, your eyes bulged. he knew your name? like? what?
you thought you looked like a dork, a spoon on your mouth as you kept it there from the frozen yoghurt you scooped up and your eyes wide open staring out at jisung but to him, you just looked so cute.
he swore he could just squish you right then and there.
weeks had went by and everytime you were with jisung, you always forget everything. even your health condition. the more you hung out, the more you forgot about taking your medicine on a daily basis. you know you said that you hated friendships because you'll be the one to break it off anyway, but here you are, falling for someone who you can't even offer him the reassurance of putting your whole life with him.
and what else was worse? he didn't know about your illness.
you didn't want to tell him. it was a stupid reason, that you didn't want him to think that he had a friend on the verge of dying at any time of the year. you didn't want jisung to worry over you constantly. it was stupid, you could tell.
on chemistry, you two were partners. you, being a smart student and jisung basically being a fearless bean, everything went smoothly. when the teacher wasn't around and left a task, the pair of you finished earlier and you had to catch up on your sleep. you've been coughing up blood for days and your parents were worried, so you leaned on your arms and faced jisung, who was talking to another classmate situated next to your guys' desk.
jisung was about to tell you a funny story of him and minho, a fellow friend of his, when he found you sleeping soundly beside him. he forgot about his surroundings and smiled fondly at you, leaning his head to his arms as he faced you with a huge smile plastered on his face.
when a stray hair fell off from your head to your face, he easily tucked it back behind your ear without having to wake you up. he could only imagine what his life would be if you were his girlfriend. you were so understanding, and blunt at the same time. he found you hilarious and cute. and whenever he was down, you were always there for him with a box of his favorite cheesecake.
he wanted to tell you his feelings. he wanted to confess to you. but he was scared. that he might get rejected or that he was going too fast.
but the next day, which was a saturday, he had gathered up all of his courage to confess to you and planned everything out. you on the other side, with 2 weeks of not taking medicine, you were bound to be crossed on the list of the grim reaper.
you stayed in bed, your hand held by your mother and your dad was pacing around. both were in tears.
you just remembered the letter you had wrote for jisung.
"mom," your mom immediately looked up as soon as she heard your voice, "if a boy comes, please give him that letter." you pointed to your desk which had jisung's letter on it.
"y-yes honey, don't worry, i'll take care of it for you."
jisung knocked to your door, looking confident as ever but inside he was so nervous as he held the flowers he got you.
it took time for your mother to open the door, but when she did, jisung was confused and worried to see her tear-stained face. "is y/n in?"
your mom slightly flinched at the mention of your name, she held out her hand and gave jisung a letter, "y/n told me to give you this."
jisung looked at the letter, confusion still written on his face but before he could ask what the hell was going on, your mother spoke, "y/n passed away."
he was at a loss for words.
then it hit him hard. the feelings of sadness, anger, and shock coursed through him as he tried to hold back his tears despite the many things he was currently feeling. the door was opened for him to enter, "do you want to see her one last time?"
without any other thoughts, jisung walked inside and your mother guided him to your room, where you laid in your bed, lifeless and cold.
when jisung entered, the tears couldn't stop. your mother closed the door, giving jisung time to take in everything.
almost stumbling to his feet despite walking slowly, he was trembling so bad as he sat by your side, holding your cold hand in his warm one, "y-y/n, please t-tell me that this i-is a joke.. you can't be..no."
he was sobbing so hard that his head hurt as he maintained his grip on your hand. "y-y/n.. please wake up.. y-you shouldn't d-die on m-me, please,"
he continued, "w-who's gonna feed me c-cheesecake when you're gone? h-how could you not t-tell me?"
then he remembered the letter you wrote. he rummaged through his pocket and pulled it out, opening it to see the content.
hi jisung !
by now, i should be u know,,, like laying on my bed lifeless,, and i should start this letter off by apologizing. i'm sorry that i didn't tell you about my health condition. i know i should have told you but.. i was scared. i didn't want to face it, i didn't want to know that i've done something i shouldn't have because in the end, it will always be my fault. i like you, jisung. i like you so goddamn much, but i was a coward to tell you this. i didn't want you to be constantly worried over me because it will burden you more. but do you want to know something? it might sound cringy but every time i was with you, every moment shined. i forgot everything i was always worried about before i met you, including my medication. i love you, jisung, but you don't deserve someone as sickly as me. someone as cowardly as i am. you deserve more than that and i'm more than sorry towards you. i'm so sorry that you had to meet me. sungie, please don't blame yourself after reading this, it hurts me so much to know you're in pain but i'm a goner if i caused you such pain. i'm sorry. don't ever blame yourself okay? because alk you've done was put my bland life into a coloring book amd colored it with so many colors which is equivalent to happiness. i'm so thankful that i got to meet you, that i got to like you. i don't regret everything that happened between us, i love you jisung. so so much. i'll never forget you.
your friend,
l/n y/n
jisung clutched the letter to his chest as he continued on sobbing. he then leaned over to your frame and pecked your forehead and stayed there, his tears falling to your cheeks,
"i love you too, y/n."
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The Darkling’s Soldier #2
I will probably won't update for a few days after this chapter... I just had some free time today and figured why not?
The next few weeks passed in a serious haze. Feydor was, in fact, correct about my selection- and I ended sleeping in a room of snoring men. But something didn't make sense. Why would a woman sleep in the same quarters as men, I just felt entirely vulnerable... but Feydor said I was the first female on the Darkling's guard and so additional quarters had never been made. I didn't necessarily like the position it put me in- but I didn't have the nerve to ask the soverenyi about it either.
If I thought combat training was difficult in the First Army, well then the ordeals we were put through on a daily basis made it look like a paper cut. Intense laps around the palace ground, and sparring matches that I just barely made it out of without being too terribly bruised and beaten. Even the Darkling trained in hand to hand combat, often against Ivan- and in those moments I actually felt some pity for the soverenyi's second in command.
I was permitted to carry a rifle in the first army, but never a pistol even remotely close to the caliber of the one Eyrk gave me. It turns out I wasn't the only non-Grisha in the Darkling's guard. Which honestly struck me as odd. Everyone always thought that the oprichniki was a series of lethal heartrenders, but I guess everyone makes false assumptions. It took a while to get used to the weight of the sleek pistol on my side, but what made matters worse was the fact that I constantly felt like a lost duckling every time we moved locations around the palace. I knew I was doing exactly what Artur (another oprichnik) taught me about walking in formation, but it didn't make me feel any less stupid.
The most uncomfortable part of it all, however, was staying stoic during meetings with the King. The King would stare at me while the Darkling and he conversed about saint's knows what- I wasn't paying attention half of the time; because I was far too focused on not cringing at the Ravkan monarch as he sipped on his tea.
Then there was the apparat. He. Was. So. Gross. I felt like I had bugs crawling under my uniform everytime he was present, and the intensity of his stare didn't make things much easier. The least of my concerns was the soverenyi himself. He hardly paid me any mind, and sometimes I wondered if he even remembered that he'd recruited me. Interaction with grisha was rare, considering that we orpichniki followed a 'brotherly'- I should say 'sibling' like code. We stick with each other no matter what and there was no higher priority than the soverenyi's safety. Including our own. I felt a shudder run down my back at thought of death by one of the many enemies the Darkling, constantly faces.
There's the Shu- who would more than likely cut us apart as a form of torture for getting us to spill information concerning the Ravkan embassy. Then there's Fjerda, they would definitely stick us on the pyre just for even being associated with grisha and doing what they'd call "wasting" our lives protecting one. Then the Kerch- who would probably just sell us for a pretty penny to the other two for information- because let's face it if one of us were ever kidnapped, the Darkling would probably just cut his losses and consider us dead. There's plenty of us in the world... but only one of him.
"You okay kid? You look like you've just eaten rotten herring." Ivan's voice knocked me out of whatever trance I'd put myself in. Surprisingly enough the heartrender had begun to be somewhat kind to me in these recent weeks.
"First of all, this is the face I make any time I eat herring, saints that stuff is gross. And secondly, I'm fine... just thinking about my inevitable death that's all." I replied lightheartedly.
Ivan actually let out a snort. "Don't let the Darkling hear you're open disdain for herring, he may get offended. Also, don't think about dying, you'll be fine. You were picked for a reason after all. Even if I don't necessarily agree with it."
"Was that your attempt of being comforting, because if so... remind me to never vent to you again. Saints." I grumbled. I only received a grunt in response.
We were currently stationed in front of the war room where the Darkling was talking over some sort of plans with the captain of the king's guard. Or that's what I thought until I heard a woman's voice. She didn't sound very nice either.
"Am I supposed to just sit here and do nothing? I was led to believe I would be part of your guard but that little rat outside took my place instead." she hissed, ravkan accent thickly dripping through every word.
My posture ebbed for a moment shoulders sagging slightly. 'Rat?' my mind hissed at me. I grimaced openly and Ivan frowned glancing at the door behind us.
"Don't pay her any mind, that's how Zoya is towards everyone. And it's exactly why she isn't part of this regiment." I just nodded straightening my back and forcing my face to return to its neutral state.
I heard the harsh and cold tone of the soverenyi's voice and knew he was clearly pissed about something. A few moments later the girl was escorted out of the war room. I caught a glimpse of shiny black hair, blue eyes and pale skin as she sashayed out of the room. I didn't dare breath as she slowed her pace near me, and my eyes remained locked on the wall in front of me until she was a safe distance away.
"Shift change," Derik said suddenly next to me. I jumped and gave him a rather pointed look.
"Is it your goal to scare the living daylights out of me, or just how you happened to be as a whole because it isn't very funny." I snapped. His eyes widened and he mockingly put his hands up in surrender. I sighed moving to let him take post outside the war room and began to make my way back to our quarters to change and maybe head to the banya. That is until I was stopped by Ivan.
"The soverenyi has requested to speak with you." I gaped at him for a moment.
"When did you even leave? I was right here the whole time! I swear all of you were spies before this. Tiptoeing around for saints knows what." I grumbled.
"Just go, you won't want to keep him waiting- he's already had his nerves tested by Zoya."
I weaved around into Ivan and quietly knocked on the door to the war room. My hand's had suddenly gotten clammy and my throat felt like it'd decided to close itself.
"Come in." was the response I heard through the door. My heart had sped up to beating about a mile a minute now as I peeked my head in and then forced the rest of my body to move.
'Why am I so nervous right now? I'm literally next to him all day... not next to him- but in his general vicinity.' I scolded myself angrily. The Darkling was sitting at the end of the table looking over a series of documents and maps. He glanced up at me, apparently reading my hesitance with ease.
"You may close the door and have a seat. You aren't being reprimanded for anything," he said, somewhat amused. I followed his orders and quickly shut the door and sat on the left side of the table. Not to close to him, but not too far away either, I didn't want him to think I was afraid of him. Honestly, I wasn't- what I was afraid of was making my self look like an ass in front of him.
"What did you wish to speak to me about?" I asked once I was settled, as I desperately tried to not let my voice waver. He raised a brow, lips tipping up in a half smile. I felt myself shift in my seat uncomfortably and my brows knit together. 'What could possibly be so funny.'
"Are you happy here (Y/n)?" he asked entirely catching me off guard. My eyes shot up to look at him and I opened my mouth to say something before shutting it again.
"Umm, yes? I suppose I'm happy here. Or at least I thought I was until someone call me a rat." I said quickly and clamped my hand over my mouth after the last statement had left my mouth. "I apologize moi soverenyi I meant no disrespect I-" the words died on my tongue as the Darkling held up his hand to silence me.
"I asked a question and you answered honestly," he said simply. "I apologize for the fact that you heard Miss Nazyalensky call you a rat."
I looked at the table and then my hands. "It's nothing that I already haven't heard before. I took what she wanted... she has a right to be upset." I shrugged. He seemed surprised by my lack of feeling towards the matter. "Not that I'm okay with what she said, I just mean that I don't really care- that's all. "
He seemed in to be in thought before he abruptly said- "Would you like to accompany me to the banya?"
I felt my face heat slightly and simply nodded my head, all too certain of the fact that if I open my mouth right now- I will say something incredibly stupid. We moved to exit the war room, and for some reason when I emerged everyone seemed for colder than usual, especially considering the fact that I was one of them. Eyrk wordlessly appeared next to me and whispered-
"Don't fall under his spell, he'll use you then dispose of you. Just like Zoya."
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bangtanata-blog · 6 years
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EXEC_VIENA/. (Jikook soulmate AU) ch.01
- also available on AO3 (listen to EXEC_VIENA/. here)
Summary: When someone turns 21, they will be able to see the red string of fate that ties them to their soulmate. Jungkook has been waiting and dreading for the time to come, only to find out that his soulmate is in fact, his ex, the one whose existence Jungkook has tried hard to ignore for years after their breakup.
In a world filled with soulmates, he wonders, sometimes, if he’ll end up as a Blank, as someone whose soulmate hasn’t been born yet, or who is unlucky enough to have a dead soulmate.
In a world filled with soulmates, he wonders, sometimes, if it’ll be easier to know who he’s bound to be with for life since the very beginning of his life span, instead of spending his first twenty-first years to wander and wonder, searching and guessing on who can possibly be his Only One.
In a world filled with soulmates, it scares Jungkook sometimes: the thought of seeing someone and immediately falling in love with them, to be enamored and willing to do anything to please them, because they’re supposed to be lovers, because they’re supposed to love each other.
(Shouldn’t they work out for it? His heart says, shouldn’t they know each other first, before they decide that it’s true love?)
But in a world filled with soulmates, it also fills him with hope, sometimes; to know that there’s someone out there, for him, someone who can complement him just like he’ll complement them, someone who’ll be and try to be with him even with his faults, and he will do his best to do the same. All because they’re meant to be. All because they’re basically meant for each other.
The thought that someone can love him unconditionally makes his heart beat faster in his chest sometimes, and whenever anyone tries to tease him on how he’s such a hopeless romantic, well, he inwardly agrees.
(The thought of being loved and loving unconditionally—it scares him as much as it makes him incredibly happy).
(He wants to be happy).
However, if people think that simply because everyone are meant to figure out who their soulmates are by the time they turn 21 they will keep themselves single, then they can’t be even more wrong. Especially with the younger generation such as Jungkook, who tries and tries to find and guess someone who could be The One, no matter if it’s just random guesses or mere flings.
‘It’s practice’, the teenagers would say, whenever anyone complains about teens dating other people and having flings before meeting their soulmates. It’s practice before the real thing, they’ll say, because it’s better to know what to do in a relationship before you go throw yourself into the long term one.
That, and it’s probably their libido talking.
It’s a valid reasoning, some would argue; because not everyone immediately meets their soulmates after they turn 21, some has to wait for years, some ends up having their strings suddenly severed, having their soulmates dying before they even get the chance to meet.
And also, just because you’re soulmates and meant to be, doesn’t mean your relationship will be smooth sailing everytime.
There are articles of it, ones that sometimes Jungkook would pour his attention to, a relationship where soulmates’ bond are strained despite their red strings being tied together perfectly, where their relationship is failing, where they’re unhappy, but cannot really leave each other or get into a relationship with another people, because they’re meant to be together.
Having a soulmate is scary, he thinks.
But sometimes, when he sees Namjoon, a hyung he admires, with Seokjin, his soulmate, being happy together and basically being such saps that Jungkook could’ve thrown up in front of them and the atmosphere would’ve stayed sweet—
He thinks he wants that.
He wants that kind of relationship.
.
.
Once upon a time, Jungkook had had a relationship similar to one which he would’ve wanted his relationship with his future soulmate to be like.
It wasn’t his first lover, no, but it could’ve been his best one yet.
Park Jimin was a great boyfriend. He was cheeky, sometimes bordering on incredibly petty, with short bursts of emotions and irritation from someone so small when he was teased, yet still very, very sweet and caring and attentive and just great. They had an interesting dynamic, Namjoon would say, mainly because both of them acted like total brats to each other on a daily basis in between of any other couple-y things, but they worked anyway. They worked, and Jungkook had to catch himself from hoping that they could’ve been soulmates numerous times back then. Because Jimin was a wonderful boyfriend; and he had been happy, and he hoped that Jimin was happy, too.
He couldn’t hope, though, he mustn’t. It would be unfair to each of their soulmates, to hope that their lovers before the strings could be seen by their eyes as their ‘soulmates’. Back then, he didn’t want to feel disappointed when, in a possible future, he found out that Jimin was not his soulmate. He was pretty sure Jimin had the same thought; they had an agreement of sorts, anyway, that if by the time one of them were to turn 21, they would break up, and proceed to look for their respective soulmates.
(He found himself hoping for it anyway).
(He had hoped, foolishly, that maybe, maybe, Jimin could’ve been the one).
(Simply because they worked well together, simply because they were happy).
It was all for naught though, all those thoughts of a ‘future’ where they were still together until Jimin turned 21, because by the time Jimin was 17 and Jungkook 15, the older one went to Seoul to follow his dreams.
Jungkook had been supportive of it, because it was Jimin’s dream, and if it was Jimin’s, Jungkook was pretty willing to say that it was his, too. They were that kind of couple, and Jungkook had to wonder if he was a foolish romantic, to be that invested in someone when he hadn’t known if Jimin was truly his soulmate or not just yet.
It didn’t matter anyway, because Jimin moving to Seoul was the start of the end of their relationship.
(…It wasn’t meant to last anyway).
(They were supposed to break it off when Jimin turned 21, anyway. An early break didn’t mean anything. It didn’t).
The end of their relationship was caused by the typical problem in any long distance relationship: the lack of communication. And the Jungkook of the present thinks, begrudgingly, also the lack of effort and commitment on both sides to keep the relationship going.
Jungkook was a teenager. Impatient, rather impulsive, and perhaps, with Jimin who was slowly reaching his dream and slowly, slowly getting father and farther away from him, he had begun to feel insecure.
It ended a few months after Jimin’s debut, when Jimin was 18 and Jungkook 16.
The chats, phone calls and video calls had reduced significantly, especially so when the older boy was busy with work, and Jungkook tried to understand, really, because this was Jimin’s dream, he was working, and Jungkook wanted to support him.
But sometimes, it got tiring when his messages weren’t replied to until a day later, or when they were only left on read, then replied hours later when the topic didn’t matter for young Jungkook anymore. It got irritating when promises of call schedules had to be moved and moved and moved and moved because Jimin didn’t have time anymore, because he didn’t have time for Jungkook anymore.
That was fine.
It wasn’t like he was Jungkook’s soulmate anyways.
They were just trying out relationship with someone who could be their soulmates.
It was fine.
It was fine, he thought, when he had to be the one who ended it, who requested for its end, because Jimin was too busy to consider ending it, too busy to even talk to him.
(And if his fingers were trembling, if he had been crying when he built the courage to type the words out, well).
(It didn’t really matter).
(It was his fault for hoping, anyway).
(And if he was even slightly bitter that Jimin only messaged him a lot after he asked for the break up, he would never admit it to anybody, not even Jimin).
.
.
[chat log]
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.
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Seagull (9:37 pm): Jimin hyung
Seagull (9:37 pm): hyung
Seagull (9:37 pm): let’s end this
Seagull (9:38 pm): im tired.
Seagull (9:38 pm): i don’t think you really want to continue this anymore too anyway
Seagull (9:39 pm): I don’t think I can do this anymore. Im sorry
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Seagull (10:44 pm): …………
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Seagull (10:49 pm): goodluck on your career
Seagull (10:52 pm): goodbye
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Jiminie (12:12 am): what (read)
Jiminie (12:13 am): jungkook (read)
Jiminie (12:13 am): jungkook what? (read)
Jiminie (12:14 am): jungkook please (read)
Jiminie (12:14 am): please im sorry (read)
Jiminie (12:14 am): lets think about it some more (read)
Jiminie (12:14 am): jungkookie? (read)
.
.
Jiminie (8:21 am): jungkook? (read)
Jiminie (8:21 am): jungkook (read)
Jiminie (8:22 am): jeon jungkook I know you’re reading this (read)
Jiminie (8:22 am): jungkook!!! (read)
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One (1) missed call from Jiminie
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Four (4) missed call from Jiminie
Jiminie (1:34 pm): jungkook please (read)
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Seagull (2:12 pm): it’s just not working out, hyung, not anymore
Seagull (2:13 pm): besides, you’re going to be 21 soon
Seagull (2:13 pm): let’s just end this, yeah?
 .
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Jiminie (3:42 pm): no please (read)
Jiminie (3:42 pm): I love you (read)
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Seagull (3:47 pm): no (read)
Seagull (3:48 pm): no you don’t, hyung (read)
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One (1) missed call from Jiminie
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Seagull’s number has been deactivated.
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.
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Delete [Jiminie] from your contact list?
>> Yes <<
No
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.
And that was that.
Perhaps it had been overkill to both delete his contact and change his number, but it was logical for him, at the time, who was hurting and just wanted to escape it all. And coupled with the amount of messages and missed calls Jimin had left him after their… breakup, Jungkook was afraid that he would’ve accepted his apology and continued being his boyfriend, because if there was anyone he was utterly weak for, it would be Jimin.
He couldn’t possibly handle reconciling and bearing it until Jimin got old enough to see the string and dump him for the older one’s soulmate, whoever that may be.
And so, it ended.
.
.
That was the past.
Right now though, Jungkook is already a college student, ironically living in Seoul since he followed Namjoon—whom he respects greatly—the very moment he finished high school. He may or may not have bounced through some more boyfriends and girlfriends—in which he will always try to treat them right, ‘flings’ or not, because that’s just what Jungkook is apparently; a hopeless romantic—after he broke it off with Jimin.
He’s nearly 21, though, and here he is, with his current boyfriend Yugyeom, leaning on each other’s shoulders as they gaze at Jungkook’s laptop, the device playing an episode of Haikyuu, more specifically the match between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa. He’s excused himself from the apartment he shares with Namjoon and Seokjin, and Yugyeom’s roommate has kindly let himself out of the apartment to give both Jungkook and Yugyeom some privacy.
It’s nearly midnight, and by the time the clock ticks past 12, Jungkook will be able to see the string tied to his pinky.
That is mostly why Yugyeom is here, to be quite honest. If, by the time Jungkook sees the string, and it’s not tied to Yugyeom, whose birthday is in November instead of Jungkook’s September, they will officially break it off, and Jungkook will start his slow search of his soulmate.
(“Man, I hope I’m not your soulmate, though,” Yugyeom says, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows as he leans back to the couch. “Surely the world coulda given me a sexier person to be my soulmate.”
“I’m still your boyfriend, here,” Jungkook says, his voice purposely flat, though he’s grinning too. “Don’t make me kick you out, babe.”
“You would never,” Yugyeom gasps, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’m your boyfriend! For the next 3 hours anyway.”
“Exactly,” he nods sagely, cackling when his last boyfriend before Revelation Day smacks his shoulder.
It’s nice to know someone is taking this eventual promised breakup as easy as Jungkook, really.
He hates painful breakups, after all).
.
.
This is a promise: by the time Jungkook is capable of seeing the string and still having the string tied to his finger (what if the string stops existing, which means his soulmate is dead? What if— …He stops the scary thought before he brings himself an early heart attack), he will not date any random person ever again.
Honestly, he’s seen firsthand on how messy it could’ve been to date someone even after you’ve managed to see the red string tied to your finger. Case in point: Namjoon and Seokjin’s rocky start.
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.
.
Namjoon and Seokjin’s initial first meeting story is not something they’ll gladly flaunt to everybody like most soulmates would’ve loved to do. Why, you ask? Well.
.
.
Namjoon, while having this goofy habit to stare at his string right with a smile after he woke up, hadn’t been the type of person to feel jittery and impatient over meeting his soulmate.
If they are supposed to meet, then they will, that was basically what Namjoon believed in, and thus he lived his life as normal and rather happily, waiting leisurely for the day for when he would’ve met his soulmate.
Which was why when he saw Seokjin, he hadn’t been expecting it.
He was walking down the street, a paper cup of coffee in his right hand as he bypassed a kissing couple in front of a rather fancy café. He would’ve ignored it and walked away, if not for the fact that his string had shortened itself to accommodate with the current distance he had with his soulmate… who was kissing another male.
That was his first meeting with Seokjin, a man who, against all odds and norms, was another of those people who continued to date even when they knew their lovers weren’t their soulmates.
Seokjin and Namjoon had stared at each other awkwardly, the string connecting the both of them hanging mockingly between their fingers.
In a rush of unpleasant emotions running through his veins, Namjoon flinched away from Seokjin’s startled glance, and while he could’ve stomped his way to Seokjin’s way, demanding answers, or he could’ve punched Seokjin, or his boyfriend, or both—
The young underground rapper had debated between fight or flight, and upon seeing Seokjin’s shocked and immensely awkward and guilty eyes—
He chose to run back home, curl up on the couch beside Jungkook, and cry to his shoulder, mumbling and blubbering about his meeting with his soulmate to the concerned dongsaeng.
It took the two of them some awkward meetings—the first three times being chaperoned by a pissed off Jungkook, who during the meet ups spent his time glancing at Seokjin with a scary glint in his eyes, basically daring the older man to fuck this up so he could get a reason to kick ass—before they slowly turned into the saps they are in the present.
(Seokjin teases him, sometimes, over how protective Jungkook was (is) to Namjoon, laughing when the youngest splutters and tries to deny that he’s not overprotective, thank you very much!)
(Truth be told, Jungkook would’ve punched Seokjin if the older man hadn’t tried to search for Namjoon—rather frantically at that—and settle things properly with him).
(He won’t tell Seokjin that, though, not when the problem has been solved).
(…Now, he would’ve liked it better if they stop acting like old married couple whenever Jungkook is nearby. He knows they’re all roommates now, but still, there are things Jungkook wishes he can forget ever hearing or seeing, good God).
(He plans to be as gross with his soulmate when he meets them, because sometimes he’s that petty, really).
(That, and it doesn’t sound bad to be like that with his soulmate, when he’s established enough connection with them, whoever they are).
.
.
.
Thing is, Jungkook is ready. Or, well, as ready as he will ever be, anyway. He knows he won’t immediately meet his soulmate—unless his soulmate is Yugyeom, in which if it is, he won’t be complaining, really. Yugyeom is nice, and he’s his best friend first before anything, so he knows that the other won’t be disappointed no matter the outcome—and that he won’t be actively searching for them either. Perhaps Namjoon has influenced him in that matter, but truly, he thinks, that if they’re really bound to meet, then they will.
(If not—
If his soulmate dies before him—
…Well.
He’ll deal with it later if it ever becomes like that
God, he hopes not, though).
.
.
The match between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa has ended beautifully, and both Jungkook and Yugyeom may have screamed a bit too loud sometimes whenever something amazing happened on screen.
“3 more minutes,” Yugyeom tells him, body snug beside him as they both lean back on the couch, now without anything left to watch. Now, all they can do is to wait for the Revelation Day, or so Yugyeom has dramatically named it with a grin on his face.
“How are you feeling, Jungkook?”
“Nervous,” he admits, licking his lips. Sometimes, he figures that throwing out a joke, however lame, is a nice way for him to loosen himself up (Seokjin may have influenced him on that one. He’s glad he hasn’t thrown any puns or dad jokes yet, though). And so, nonchalantly, he shrugs his shoulders as he says, “I think I’ll throw myself out the window if it turns out my soulmate is you, though.” He gets a smack on his shoulder for that, the both of them sniggering right away afterwards.
“You’re an ass,” his boyfriend whispers dramatically.
“You like me,” the older one says haughtily, his grin still in place.
“Your ass, maybe.”
“Gross.”
They share a laugh one more time, their noses brushing against each other.
“One more minute, Guk,” Yugyeom reaches out to hold Jungkook’s hand in his, his grip comforting, grounding. Gosh, but Jungkook is feeling a bit emotional, though. Because Yugyeom really is a wonderful person. A wonderful best friend, even more so; their relationship only starting after a rather bad breakup on Yugyeom’s part (god, but Jungkook really hates bad breakups, though) and Jungkook’s attempt to cheer his best friend up. Their relationship is casual, easy and sweet. He’s so, so good, that Jungkook dares to think that he may have liked Yugyeom more than his other previous lovers.
(Jungkook may have liked Jimin more than Yugyeom, though).
(Jungkook may have liked Jimin more than anyone).
(He stops that thought before it dampens his mood).
(It doesn’t matter anymore, after all).
“Any last words?” The other’s words are registered in Jungkook’s brain and the black haired man hums.
He hesitates, just a bit. “…Thank you,” his boyfriend snaps his eyes toward him, startled at his words. Jungkook’s eyes are on him, his gaze soft and he dares to think that he could’ve been talking with his eyes alone and Yugyeom would still understand him anyway.
“You were a great boyfriend,” he says, utterly honest.
Yugyeom’s eyes are suspiciously glassy. “Don’t make me cry, you ass.”
“You like this ass,” is his automatic response, which successfully makes the other laugh.
“Maybe,” Yugyeom lets out, rubbing off the moisture in his eyes. He pouts, “You make me get dust in my eyes.”
He scoffs, though not unkind. “Sure.”
He looks at the time then, licking his lips nervously. It can start any second now: he will be able to see a string tied to his finger, linked directly to his soulmate, wherever they are.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he closes his eyes, letting Yugyeom’s close proximity and his thumb rubbing against Jungkook’s knuckles to calm him down. Anytime now, when he opens his eyes, he’ll see the string on his finger. Anytime, now.
“Ready, Guk?”
Yeah.
“Yeah,” he breathes out.
He’s ready.
.
.
Jeon Jungkook opens his eyes, and sees.
.
.
The night ends with one last peck between lover-now-turned-back-to-best-friends, the two of them retreating to Yugyeom’s bed for some cuddles and a good night rest.
He wakes up to be greeted by Yugyeom’s morning breath, and after delivering a playful smack on the other’s cheek, he sits up to stare at the red string tied to his left hand’s pinky, visible only to Jungkook and his soulmate, whoever they are, wherever they are. And thus it is with a light heart and a spring in his steps, his day starts.
His life goes on.
.
.
It takes Yugyeom approximately 3 months after his birthday to find his soulmate, a cheerful guy who prefers to be called as Bambam. He’s from Thailand, apparently, and Jungkook thinks Yugyeom is lucky as fuck to have his soulmate going to university in Korea than in Thailand. God knows how long it’ll take for them to meet if Bambam never goes to Korea.
The both of them get along like a house on fire, and Jungkook is rather exasperated that he’s placed as another third wheel and subsequently gets to watch soulmate PDA, as if living with Namjoon and Seokjin is not enough. He doesn’t really mind though, even if he complains a lot about it. Bambam seems pretty chill despite knowing Jungkook is Yugyeom’s ex-boyfriend, though it’s mostlikely because the both of them made sure to explain the extent of their relationship to the pink haired guy.
It’s a bit weird that Yugyeom wants him to chaperone the both of them sometimes, and Jungkook has an inkling that the pair asks him that because they want to tease him over his third wheeling. He knows he shouldn’t have complained to them about it, but he figures he doesn’t mind it much. It’s fun to hang out with them, and it’s amusing to play the exasperated third wheel friend part sometimes, especially when he gets to do dramatic eye rolls and amuse other people watching “the couple + their friend” spectacle.
.
.
The line has to be drawn when they invite him to a particular concert, though.
“No,” he says, gritting his teeth. He stares at the ticket in his hold, looking as if the piece of paper would combust if he stares at it hard and long enough. In front of him, Yugyeom pouts, but Jungkook is determined not to let it sway him, this time.
“But Jungkook, I already got three tickets!”
“Why did you even get three?” He grounds out, trying to shove the ticket back to his pouting best friend, flashes of old memories already surfacing from the back of his mind. No, no, no, he’s done a pretty good job avoiding this ever since he arrived at Seoul. He’s not about to falter now, he won’t.
He’s spent years trying to forget about the person he probably, mostlikely, most definitely liked more than he should’ve, he’s not going to falter and fall back down the fiery pit once more. He won’t.
“I got them from my friend, remember? She can’t go, so I bought them, and it was basically a buy all three or get none kind of scenario!”
Jungkook grunts, pressing the ticket to Yugyeom’s chest. The other still hasn’t taken back the ticket from Jungkook’s hand, and it starts to piss Jungkook off a little bit. He’s staring at him, no doubt taking in his clenched jaw, his wavering eyes, since Yugyeom’s gaze softens just a bit, and Jungkook hates it a little.
It doesn’t seem like Yugyeom is willing to back down though.
“C’mon, Guk, just this once, please?”
“No.”
“Park Jimin won’t even see you among the crowd, you know.” If that’s his attempt to ease Jungkook, then it’s doing the absolute opposite.
He doesn’t know which one pains him more: the hurt he’ll inevitably feel for being unrecognized among the huge crowd in Jimin’s concert, or the fear that he’ll be seen and recognized, and the things that will follow.
“You can ask for someone else to come.”
“But we both want you to come,” Jungkook curses his weakness for his best friend and everything that makes him soft for Yugyeom, because the other man is pouting at him, purposely making his lips tremble and his eyes bigger than usual. “Please, Gukkie?”
“Ugh,” is all that Jungkook can say. Yugyeom happily takes that as an answer.
“Nothing will happen, I promise,” he reaches out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair, the motion comforting. “Besides, I know you like his songs, and you can see the string now, so it’ll be fine, okay?”
He sighs, looking down at his finger and tugs at his string for comfort, gently, knowing that his soulmate can feel it. He’s developed a habit to play with his string sometimes, twirling it between his fingers and tugging it. Sometimes, his soulmate tugs back. It’s a comfort of a sort, a greeting perhaps, or a reassurance, that they know he exists, simultaneously acknowledging the string of fate connecting them together.
Faintly, he feels his soulmate tugging the string back in reply, and he lets himself relax.
He’s okay. It’ll be okay. He has a soulmate, he can see the string now, and he can look for his soulmate and forget about his ex completely. He can move on from Park Jimin now, it’s fine.
It’s fine.
“Okay.”
.
.
The concert hall is huge.
He’s never actually been to a concert before, finding it more important to use up money for food, basic necessities and his art supplies than something such as concert. He’s spent his money on some other things too, and he may have bought Jimin’s albums before, because he actually does like the elder’s music, go figure.
Thing is, he’s never been to a concert before, and the amount of people being near him is a bit uncomfortable. His introvert soul is already dying a little bit inside, though he figures when he gets into the concert enough, he’ll end up forgetting about the crowd and enjoy the concert altogether.
The three of them aren’t exactly near the stage nor are they too far: it’s close enough to see Jimin and the other stars up close if they ever decide to venture to the left side of the stage, and Jungkook’s heart hammers a little bit faster at the thought.
He doesn’t know if he’s ready for it, if it ever comes down to that.
Fiddling with his string a bit more, he feels steady tugs coming from his soulmate, the action both comforting and grounding him. He feels excitement thrumming in his body, alongside with his nerves over whatever associated with Park Jimin, and he waits. He’s standing beside his friends, shuffling his feet nervously as he listens to their bickering over which pairing is the softest, VHope or YoonSeok? Which is stupid, because Jungkook is pretty sure TaeGi is the softest duo here, really.
Though he won’t know, what with fanservice and all, it’s pretty hard to discern which one is fan service and true PDA when it comes to idols’ relationships, especially with Kim Taehyung, the fan service extraordinarie. And he doesn’t really want to insist which is which, considering how it must be pretty shitty, to have your fans dictate what kind of romantic relationship you’re allowed to have. So he has his favorite pair, sure, okay, he’s not about to force it down someone else’s throat about how it’s far superior and “canon”, no matter if the idols themselves never actually confirm it themselves. There’s something called discerning between reality and fantasy, anyway, and Jungkook’s pretty certain he’s got a real good grip on that one. He can fantasize about his favorite pair all he wants, he just has to make sure he doesn’t overstep whatever boundaries there are when it comes to liking a pair.
(Though if it ends up revealed that apparently none of the three are together, or maybe Kim Taehyung is actually in a relationship with Park Bogum, another idol who keeps their soulmate status a secret, Jungkook is going to laugh, mostly at how disappointed some fans are going to be).
(There’s also rumor about how Jimin and Kim Taehyung are soulmates, and, well).
(Jungkook doesn’t really want to dwell on that thought).
The lights dim, then, cutting off the couple’s bickering, which has somehow shifted to the topic of best ice cream flavor (Bambam is insisting on lemon flavor, and Yugyeom looks so hilariously offended that Jungkook snorts).
“Ooh, it’s starting?”
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s an electricity failure,” Jungkook drawls out in complete deadpan, earning himself smacks on his shoulders from the other two. “Ow!”
“Shh, it’s starting,” Bambam hushes him, ignoring Jungkook’s mutter of ‘obviously’, eyes focused on the stage. The crowd is nearly crazy right now, many of them screaming so loud that Jungkook has to adjust his hearing for a little bit because wow, he knows the people performing today are famous, but wow, his poor eardrums.
The intro music starts out, then, and the crowd’s cheers get even louder than before. Jungkook has to admit he’s actually excited, and the crowd’s enthusiasm has managed to influence him a bit. It’ll be fine, he thinks, he can have fun today. He can just enjoy the songs, the show, and he’ll go home satisfied and he will finally be able to properly let Jimin go.
He’ll be fine.
The artists step on the stage, and he sees Jimin, standing right beside Taehyung looking absolutely breathtaking, with his silk white sleeved long shirt and black pants that’s too tight to be legal, and—
And Jungkook sees a red string.
.
.
.
.
He thinks he might have stopped breathing for a short while.
It’s… a red string.
He forces his gaze away from the red string tied to Jimin, frantically trying to look if the other idols are wearing a red string as well, because well, it can possibly be a performance concept, right? It’s not the first time this kind of concept is used, after all.
But he sees no red strings on any of them. Every single one of them doesn’t have any red strings, other than Jimin, who hasn’t noticed Jungkook yet (thank the Gods), and he’s seeing a red string, connected to Jimin, he’s seeing a—
Jimin lifts his left hand, which is holding the mic, near his mouth, and Jungkook very nearly faints right there.
Tied to his pinky, is a red string.
Staggering back a little bit, the college student has to hold on Yugyeom for support, in which the latter is quick to steady him, brows furrowing in worry over Jungkook’s suddenly pale face.
“Woah, Gukkie. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Bile rises from his throat, the young man barely managing from stopping himself from barfing all over the place. “I think I’m going to puke,” he says, feeling more sick than anything. Because Jimin is there, Jimin, his ex boyfriend who went off to follow his dream and who forgot about Jungkook in the process, the person whose warmth he’s always wanted to forget for years, the person whose red string is visible and most certainly linked to Jungkook’s own.
“I really, really think I’m going to puke.”
The idols are talking now, probably greeting the fans, but Jungkook can’t really hear anything past his own heart beating and his harsh, quick breathing. He’s overwhelmed, he’s scared and afraid and he shouldn’t have agreed to come to the concert, he shouldn’t have—
Jimin turns to face the left side of the stage, and Jungkook sees the moment Jimin catches his eyes, for his eyes—now blue thanks to eye contacts—widen in shock, the idol’s speech faltering for a brief moment as he takes in Jungkook’s appearance: his face as white as sheet, eyes widened from shock and panic and actual fear, slightly messy hair… He’s pretty certain he looks as unattractive as he can be, at the moment.
He’s also pretty sure he’ll be even more unattractive if he does end up puking right about now.
He lifts his hand to cover his face hastily, in a feeble attempt to cover himself up from Jimin’s view. It registers to him a moment later that he’s using his left hand to do so, because his right hand is still gripping on Yugyeom’s jacket for comfort, and Jungkook jerks the left hand away as if it burns, eyes snapping back up to Jimin and hoping, hoping that Jimin hasn’t seen it, hasn’t seen the string.
It seems to be all for naught, because even Jimin himself looks pale, now.
Jungkook feels really, really sick right about now.
And so he does what he can do best in this situation.
He lets the stress overwhelm him, his breathing getting more and more short and frantic by the seconds—
And promptly passes out.
.
.
Jungkook wakes up on his bed, to the feeling of Seokjin’s hand carding through his hair. The older man is peering down at him with a soft smile, booping Jungkook’s nose with his crooked finger when Jungkook’s eyes have focused enough to register Seokjin’s presence.
“Hey, brat,” he greets, the nickname somehow sounds endearing when Seokjin does it. “How are you feeling, hm?”
“Bad,” is all he can say. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth, and Jungkook doesn’t like it.
Seokjin hums in acknowledgement at Jungkook’s short answer, not judging and not ceasing his movements, fingers steadily going through his hair, the motion comforting.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Seokjin offers, his voice soft.
Jungkook’s breathing catches a little, his mind remembering the events in the concert hall; the string, the pale face of Jimin, shaken and in shock and probably horrified over finding out that Jungkook, the unpopular, totally-not-an-idol, ex-boyfriend Jungkook, is in fact his soulmate.
A sob punches its way out of Jungkook’s mouth, and he grips on Seokjin’s soft pink sweater, the older male easily and quickly settling himself beside the younger to properly hold him, caressing his cheek in a gentle manner, one that very easily dissolves Jungkook into a crying mess.
“I—I—I don’t—I—“
Seokjin hushes him, his thumb wiping away Jungkook’s tears. “It’s okay, Jungkook-ah,” he assures the boy, even though he must not know what the problem is, even though Jungkook hasn’t told him, that Jungkook’s ex boyfriend is his soulmate, that Jungkook is so overwhelmed he just wants the bed to swallow him whole, that he’s so so regretting everything happening in his life and that he wants to forget, wants to forget and move on and live without the knowledge on who his soulmate really is.
Because now that he knows, he’s sure it’s never going to work out.
(They don’t work out once; what can possibly make him think it’s going to work out this time around?)
It’s never going to work out.
“It’s okay, Kookah,” Seokjin’s soft voice reaches his ears, the older man caressing his cheek as he sobs and heaves to Seokjin’s sweater. Vaguely, he registers the sound of footsteps, knowing full well that it must’ve been Namjoon entering his room, undoubtedly seeing Jungkook spilling tears on his boyfriend.
“It’s okay,” Seokjin says, “it’s going to be okay, Jungkook-ah.”
Jungkook cries.
.
.
To be continued.
.
.
Things not said explicitly in the story but are important anyways:
+ It’s possible for soulmates to be completely platonic; it’s just pretty rare, considering how people prefer to marry their soulmates.
+ Jungkook’s—and basically many other people in this particular universe—string of lovers are simply the result of his attempts to ease his loneliness and need of a partner; while some people can wait until they find their soulmate—like Namjoon—some other just wants to have experience before anything. While Jungkook’s relationships before he turned 21 were mostly “casual”, they still involved a commitment (however short-term it would be) and actual fondness in Jungkook’s part. He never dated anyone he didn’t genuinely like/was interested in. He just knew that if they were not his soulmate, he would break it off no matter how fond of them he might have been. This affects his casual and nonchalant attitude toward breakups sometimes. (He still hates painful breakups though). It may be a strange thing, but this is a normal mentality in that universe. If you’re confused, you can ask me for more explanation about his train of thoughts!! Since his feelings and thoughts are actually pretty deep in regards to this whole soulmate thing, that I find it a bit difficult to properly explain and describe it into words.
+ Jungkook’s hatred for painful breakups is mostly caused by his messy breakup with Jimin.
+ Jimin AND Jungkook were BOTH at fault during their first breakup. Jungkook basically acknowledged this in the narrative, too. Commitment and actual effort in communication are needed in a relationship, guys, not just passion and intimacy (of course, they’re important too!). And no, you don’t have to chat everyday every hour every minute for a relationship to work. You can chat once a week and a relationship will still work as long as both party put in actual effort for it to work (it can be hard though. It depends on your relationship’s dynamics). Jikook didn’t, and so it failed.
+++ Please don’t try out Jungkook’s way of breaking up with Jimin. Don’t do it folks. If you want to breakup, do it properly, okay? Speak to each other face to face, if you can.
+ Jungkook’s breakup with Jimin fucked him up a little bit in that he’s become a bit impassive about both dating and having a soulmate; while the concept excites him and makes him happy, the knowledge that 1) he will have to eventually breakup with his lover when he finds out they’re not his soulmate anyway 2) they don’t really care because they’re not soulmates (this hurts him, sometimes, that people just don’t really care much about their current lovers as much as they would’ve if they date their soulmates) 3) relationships between soulmates don’t always work as well as fairytales like to call them; soulmates can fuck up each other as much as they can make each other happy and whole, and Jungkook has been preparing himself for this kind of scenario. He didn’t expect to get slapped in the face by the simple fact that his ex is his soulmate, though.
+++ Sometimes this does happen especially to people who date a lot before they turn 21, and it’s immensely awkward to get back together with an ex simply because they’re soulmates. Some pairs end up agreeing to be totally platonic, some others swear off ever meeting each other, and some try to make it work.
+ Jungkook never really gets over Jimin, and vice versa. Perhaps, during their time together, somewhere inside they’ve known that they’re soulmates—the only difference is that they couldn’t see the string before—and thus their separation hurt them more than other breakups between non-soulmates.
+ Out of all ex-lovers Jungkook has, other than Jimin, he’s softest with Yugyeom. Yugyeom, during their time together, just knew how to turn Jungkook into a puddle of goo, how to make him melt and make him so, so soft you’d wonder where the muscle pig went off to. (Yugyeom used this knowledge to persuade Jungkook into going to the concert).
+ Yugyeom ends up learning how to do the same thing to Bambam too. But it’s mostly Bambam making Yugyeom soft, really.
+ Yugyeom may or may not is a bit crazy about Bambam’s pink hair. He just thinks it’s cute.
+ Namjin and Jungkook live together in one rather large apartment; this exposes Jungkook to soulmate PDA and all the up and downs that come within Namjin’s relationship. He knows a lot about a relatively healthy soulmate bond thanks to Namjin.
+ Namjin does coddle Jungkook a lot, go figure. They’re never afraid to sit Jungkook down for a proper scolding whenever it’s necessary, though. (Jungkook wonders since when he gets a new set of guardians other than his parents, but he never really minds it).
+ Jungkook goes to Seokjin a lot for comfort, and Seokjin is pretty good at handling an emotional Jungkook. It’s probably Seokjin’s experience in studying psychology helping him out, Jungkook doesn’t know. Meanwhile, he’ll go to Namjoon for sound advice. He sometimes go to both of them for any kind of scenarios though, because Seokjin may provide him another perspective on things that Namjoon may not be able to offer, and Namjoon is pretty good at comforting people too (who do you think comforted him when he broke things up with Jimin? It’s Namjoon).
+ Jungkook is the first one to know whenever Namjin has an argument. Which is actually quite a lot. It dissolves pretty quickly too, though; Namjin is pretty good in maintaining positive communication and healthy relationship, another good thing Jungkook actually learns over the years.
+ Jungkook may or may not end up as YugBam’s love councilor whenever they have a big and/or petty argument. He’s sometimes tired and so exasperated at the amount of creativity the two can put into an argument out of all things.
+ Jungkook regrets ever telling YugBam to put that creativity they have in their arguments into bed. No, Yugyeom, Jungkook does not need details on what you’re doing with your boyfriend, oh my god.
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loki-of-war · 6 years
Text
On the future of TWD
(EDIT: Reposting due to a formatting error)
So I’ve seen a lot of people commenting and sharing their opinions lately on how Chandler’s departure will affect the show, if it will survive this hit or not, for how many seasons more will TWD run, etc, etc. And I decided, now that I’m thinking more rationally (I hope) and I’m able to form understandable sentences, to share my honest thoughts with you lovely people on this entire mess.
Which is as follows: I give the show a minimum lifespan of ten seasons (meaning, the show will end in two more seasons) and a maximum of twelve seasons in total. This is my verdict, feel free to disagree with me.
Now onto explaining why I think this is so:
I can sort of see why old fans who left and people who have never liked Carl or feel lukewarm about him are happy this death is going to happen. But on the other side I'm thinking this kind of mentality is the reason why the show gets away with terrible decisions and why they keep making them over and over, declining in quality. I don't think it's right to condone mediocrity; this is from someone like me who has stayed on the TWD's side so far hoping they'd find the right footing at some point this season  (then, obviously, because why wouldn’t they, my patience and tolerance was rewarded with this haha). And as I mentioned in a previous comment I made on YT, no matter what the public's feelings for Carl are, they won't change the importance of his role in the plot and his fundamental connection to Rick (this latter element has an effect on the whole cast, for better or for worse).
But anyway, Carl's death is going to change the entire mood of the series from now on so it definitely will never be as it once was and I think because of that the story will slowly bleed out. I mean, Carl has been the greatest determinator for every single one of Rick's decisions the entire show, and not only that but what he symbolised as a character, the hope for a better future, is gone now. What do children, sons, daughters, symbolise in every universal story? The next generation, what comes after, that not everything is going to be screwed up forever; especially after seeing how unmerciful TWD's world has proven to be for children and having Carl be the only exception to this 'kids cannot survive this world' rule has sort of become a moot point thanks to the...current circumstances.
Rick's and Lori's speeches to Carl in seasons 2 and 3 respectively justify this way of thinking: that after everyone from their generation (the adults) dies, Carl will have to take the reins and move on. I refuse to believe any writer with common sense would write such important pieces of dialogue just because they felt like it, just because they're emotional words without any other kind of meaning behind them. That is just lazy and awful writing in my opinion. Why write these poignant moments only to have the kid killed long before the end of the series? Why write/do anything if those things are going to be ignored later down the line, nevermind that every piece in a story must connect with the others? Why bother teaching him this morality lessons if they're all going to go to waste anyway; if he will never have a character arc/storyline that is plot relevant where his morals are challenged? (Good on you, whoever made the call, for missing out on possible great storylines for Carl that would have improved viewing and the quality of the show). That doesn't make a bit of sense, unless that what they were looking for was to give the events leading up to his sudden death some twist of irony, and that'd be perfect and all, except that Carl dying was so not part of the plan (the improvisation is so obvious it hurts me in the balls I don't have) and even the way his death was set up was graceless-the bite- and not something one would expect from the same people who made/directed/wrote/produced Season 4. In other words, killing him was basically flipping off the idea of a future in the face, whether they meant to do that or not, and this is bound to turn the overall mood the series to a much grim and darker tone to an already heavy themed and toned series. Many people won't find themselves too content with that heavier tonal change, I think, if the ratings for season 7 are to be trusted.
Ignoring that the conclusion to this was having him die though,  I do have to say the actual set up in the mid season finale itself was beautiful and emotional (Chandler's acting was on point, he was the star of this episode), but the chain of actions leading up to it was lackluster. With lackluster I mean that he is a very important character that has literally been wasted for far too long; if you look at his progression throughout the seasons you'll realize he has not done much from a plot perspective despite being a main character. Therefore, his death feels unsatisfactory and empty because one can't help but feel that he hasn't nearly done as much as he should have. What he did to save his people in the mid season finale was amazing but it wasn't enough to make up for a notorious lack of screen time over full eight seasons, moreover if the motivations that drove him to that point, to that mentality, to that philosophy, don't make sense because his personality has made a one eighty from how he was the previous season with no type of prior explanation as to why that happened.
It may not seem like it but I'm actually a huge fan of angst and favorite-character-slaughter. I love when books, music, movies, videogames, series make me suffer (great examples of this are my undying love for Hannibal the tv show and that my favorite videogames are the ones directed by this one man, life destroyer actually, called Yoko Taro). Perhaps that is another reason why I'm being so critical with the choice to kill Carl (asides from the horrible decision-making and poor writing), because I love being hit in the feels in the best way possible, without holding back any punches, just go straight for the kill and make me cry like a newborn. However, I don't like tragedy when it's done for shock value, or when it's done simple-mindedly. If a favorite character of mine is going down, it has to make sense and they must have had filled out their purpose in the story, reached a state of character development we're all satisfied with so that when they die one can accept it and be happy despite the possible trauma that could ensue after (well, one can't exactly pin point when that happens, when enough is enough, but to have had the character embark on a lot of adventures even without them accomplishing their purpose, is enough to embrace their death). I guess what I'm trying to say with all this is that, while on one hand I would have preferred him outliving everybody else, if they were still so adamant on having him die at some point of the story (as if killing Carl had actually been part of a long term plan and not some last minute decision) they should have developed him first and foremost, and then assign him a proper death in later seasons, most preferably before the last season ends given that him dying before Rick is several different levels of wrong; if he wasn't such a huge part of Rick's character then fine, do it, but putting and end to him is equal to neutralizing Rick for literally years, which is time that both a comic and a tv show cannot afford, so to do it near the end of everything would be a better fit.
And, I don't know, even having Judith fill the void won't be of much help either, because we haven’t and we won't see her grow the same way we did Carl, her relationship with Rick will be vastly different, and so on. Probably this is just me but I'm not really attached to her; Judith so far is to me only a concept and not actually a person (yet). The fact that they keep changing the little baby girls who portray her doesn't really help, that gets me out of the story everytime. She just can't replace Carl, she might take his future storylines but it won't be the same. Besides, by the time she grows up, she’ll already be deep into this world, this is her normal life and probably by that time things will have changed.
So basically, not only in killing Carl they destroyed the image of a future, they have killed a foundational part of the essence that made The Walking Dead be The Walking Dead we all knew and loved, and that will never return. Also, allow me to point out that for those who think that The Walking Dead is about people dying whenever and wherever, and the cruel injustice that is life, I am not going to say that your interpretation is wrong but it is an incomplete one. The audience doesn’t watch TWD only to see tons of MC’s get murdered on a daily basis. Otherwise, why bother with investing time on a plot and just have them all killed at once. The soul of TWD is not about senseless killing and murder and tragedy and sadness. Simplifying it all to ‘this show is about the possibility of anybody dying/gore/zombies/etc’ is a great disservice to the show and the fans. Obviously, I am not neither the writer of the show or Robert Kirkman to claim to know to a T what the central theme of The Walking Dead is, and for full disclosure I have not read the comics. Nonetheless, basing my personal opinion on the tv show alone, I would like to think one of the core themes the show has explored and returns to time and time again is the topic in regards to the essence of human nature, and how in spite of apparent doom and the horrible circumstances we are forced to face, humans will always find the way to move forwards and stay strong, ergo, the message is a positive one, not a negative one, depressing, nihilistic one. And what better character to portray this versatility of human nature, this capacity for change, other than Carl Grimes, a child of transition, a child who was pulled out of his normal childhood and thrown right into the chaos of the apocalypse? A boy who has witnessed inhumane things, horrible things, has killed his mother, his second father figure, has done awful things himself, has always been toeing the line between right and wrong, cruel and kind, because of all the experiences he has had to process in a very short period of time? He was obligated to grow in a decaying world, watching his father and the ones surroundind him make mistakes, learning from them, evolving, seeing close ones die, starving, surviving insane experiences... If someone like that manages to grow in such a hostile environment and still remains true to himself and still has not lost faith in the world and humanity, and keeps close all the meaningful, important things his family and friends told him in the course of his entire life and not only that, but also applies them... What does that mean for you, to you? What does it mean for us? What does it say about human nature that hasn’t been told before or not quite in this manner?
Well, that is the point. I guess we will never get to find out in the Tv Show the answer to those questions. Regrettably.
If, and just if, the show manages to recover from this point onwards, I still have no idea how I'd feel about having the show thrive on the tails of throwing under the bus such a key character with no legitimate reasons behind the choice (don't even get me started on what they've done to poor Chandler). I'll still watch the show but I would be incredibly uncomfortable if that is how it turns out to be.
Finally, I apologize for any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing you may find, it’s way too late to be doing such a long post and English is not my main language. Please don’t be afraid or feel awkward about replying to this post, even if it’s to hate on it. I really don’t mind having a long conversation about this topic with you all since I’ve literally been dying since Sunday night to discuss it.
Thank you so much for reading!
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me0wkatsjot · 7 years
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I am so angry. I am so angry that it hurts to think about it. I am so angry that being angry feels so heavy on my shoulders and it makes me want to die. I am so angry that at the age of almost 21, I still feel anger over things that happened to me when I was 4. How do I get over this anger? Because obviously hating the world that I'm in and everything in it isn't helping me anymore. Hating myself has started to become boring because it's no longer something I do when I'm sad or mad, its something I do on a daily basis. It's a part of my lifestyle. Hating myself has just become my thing because no matter what I'm just always sad or mad. I can sit here listing things I supposably like about myself but the final thought will still be "yeah but I mean... I still feel like dying".. I miss enjoying the feeling of being alive because now I constantly dread it and I simply just want to die. I want to roll into my bed and lay here until I feel my last breath because no matter how much work I put into my life I still don't feel fulfilled. When will I be Okay? I got a pretty rad child, a decent fucking job, I got the man of my childhood dreams, and a pretty good best friend. I'm taking my meds and working on myself but Jesus Christ, I feel like all the work I put in is such a waste of FUCKING TIME. Time is something that confuses me because i want to end my life but I hate wasting my time. I like to plan everything out. No I'm not a spontaneous person. I like knowing when and how things happen in my days but it fucking sucks when i make plans and they just start to go their own way instead of mine because holy shit, do I just want to throw a clock at a wall everytime i make plans and they fall through and I'm just like cthat's an hour of my life I'm never getting back". I like stability but that's something that never lasts. I am ranting on and on about I dont even know what now, all i know is I'm hurt as fuck and feeling like hell wishing someone would fall from the sky or something and just tell me to fucking chill... I am so angry that on a day that I did so well at keeping myself positive, something so pathetic came and just stopped it..
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