#Jeon Jungkook centric

[magini0]

Kimset (IV)

Pairing: ot6 x Jungkook | Jungkook x Everyone

Genre: Witch AU, Soulmate AU, Ex's to Lovers, Angst With a Happy Ending

Summary: Jungkook has until the next Witching Moon to develop a cure for his chronic illness. With his race against time, he really doesn’t have the nerve to be constantly pestered by his old coven mates—whom he had left behind after a mission gone wrong. Back as a famous healer and sponsored by a renowned magical society, Jungkook is ready to do what it takes to survive. Now, if only his former coven would back off and stop being so damn persistent in making up for their old mistakes…

Word Count: 13k

Also accessible on ao3 => Here Previous Chapter => Here Next Chapter => Coming Soon

There was a strange, nauseating race to Taehyung's heartbeat as he walked down the hall. His feet cascaded down the tiled floor; his loud footsteps echoed tauntingly throughout the empty corridor illuminated by the afternoon sun. The shadows cast the window's silhouettes against the floor. His palms were strangely sweaty, restless as he switched through a cycle of clenching and unclenching his hands before he'd fiddle with his clothes for the umpteenth time, trying to catch a glimpse of himself in the window's reflective surface as he walked, combing through his hair. 

He followed the numbers on each door, trying to find the one that belonged to Jungkook. B013, right? He was nervous because, of course, he was. Their last conversation—if you could even call it that—had hardly even grazed the top of the iceberg that was their relationship. To be entirely fair, Taehyung strongly doubted that this conversation would go any differently. But unlike his hyungs, he just couldn't bring himself to give Jungkook space. He just couldn't. 

Not when it's been literal years since he's spent more than a fleeting moment with Jungkook, not when he had yet to fully take him in. His hair had grown out, Taehyung recalled. The still black, natural hair was cut into a styled fringe. Hair a little longer, bangs stopping a little over his cheeks with a slight curl to the end swaying from the face. The sides of his hair were still styled, covering the tips of his ears. A row of piercings lined one of his ears, along with his brow and bottom lip. His chest puffed with a momentary sense of pride as he had noticed them during their last encounter, and reluctantly wandered back to a place where he watched Jungkook marvel through a jewelry shop's showcase window—lamenting the fact that his parents would never let him tarnish his image through body modifications. 

Taehyung scoffed at the momentary reminder of Jungkook's atrocious set of parents. But there Jungkook had stood— his little bunny, sprouting piercing like it was no one's business. Because it wasn't, and Taehyung couldn't help but feel an assortment of pride and happiness that Jungkook had found that independence for himself. 

Having Jungkook before him terminated any and all of his thoughts, rendering him to nothing but a blubbering stupored twat—while simultaneously promoting such a heaviness to take hold of him. The kind of short, fleeting questions one could sense in the pit of their stomachs—sinking. What had Jungkook been like during his first piercing? 

Taehyung recalled in that vague moment by the jewelry shop window how he had promised Jungkook that when the witch turned eighteen, he'd sneak him out to get his ears pierced. A fleeting smile twitched across his face as he walked, his hand lifting to subconsciously brush against his earlobe. About a month after making that promise, Teahyung had snuck out of the academy and purchased a set of earrings, small silver stars hanging from a delicate chain, and a little clear glass diamond in the star's centers. It hadn't been much, and usually Taehyung wasn't such a fan of something so delicate. But his bun was discovering stargazing with Yoongi at the time—something that had totally not made him jealous—and seemed to be enjoying it. Taehyung had blown most, if not all, of his summer wages on that set. 

Because Jungkook getting his ears pierced had been so much more than just getting to buy some new jewelry. It was more than just an act of spontaneous defiance. It was a call for independence, a step towards individuality that Jungkook's parents refused to permit otherwise. Taehyung had understood that—he still does. 

Taehyung glanced outside, but his gaze was unfocused—did Jungkook need to hold someone's hand? Did his face scrunch up the way it always does, eyes squeezed shut, and nose crunched in that adorable way? Taehyung had missed it. That moment he had reserved for them—he had missed it all. The sense of loss that realization accompanied was unbearable. 

He couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook ever got those tattoos he had wanted, too. Of course, he wouldn't go on and ask something so personal. His bun might literally shank him for it. 

But he still felt unsettled and frustrated by their last meeting. He had wanted to say more, but just being able to see Jungkook again—before him, living, breathing, alive; vaporized any and every thought of his because Jungkook was finally there—he was okay.  

Jungkook had been angry— rightly fucking so, he might add. Emotional, frustrated, hurt. It killed him. Their eyes had locked, and suddenly he was speechless. There stood his baby, his stupid, naive bunny—crying, and he wasn't able to do anything about it. 

Ultimately, he was one of the six reasons those eyes were shedding tears in the first place. In that moment, it didn't matter how long Taehyung had prowled the streets of Korea looking for those same pair of eyes, how he scanned over the crowds to try and recognize that familiar head of tussled, unkempt hair, because Jungkook was there, crying because of him. 

Walking further down the hall, Taehyung didn't expect this conversation to go any better. Realistically, he was just psyching himself up to be yelled at, berated, and metaphorically thrown around as Jungkook vented six years of hate onto him. But Taehyung didn't mind because it was Jungkook's voice doing it. He didn't mind those heated, fiery gazes because it was Jungkook's chocolate eyes pointing them.  

Because even for a moment—he got to exist in the same space as Jungkook. 

And maybe, just maybe, after Jungkook got to say everything he needed or wanted to, Taehyung would be able to say he was sorry. He was really starting to hate that word—sorry. as if the depths of his remorse, the sheer level of guilt, regret, and sorrow could ever be narrowed down to five abysmal letters. 

Because he was so much more than just sorry. He cursed every day that had passed for the last six years—2,190 damned days, give or take a few. He hexed every watery blink, the haunting quiver of his sweet voice, the balling of his fist and shaking of his hand. For every minute, Jungkook was out there, thinking for even a second he hadn't been out there looking for him. 

Gaze following the labels against each the door, he felt the numbers nearing Jungkooks. The door was slightly ajar, and through it, Taehyung could hear the familiar voice of his soulmate. 

"But we fell in love." 

"Despite all odds—fuck, we grew to love each other above all else." 

"So—" 

"So when three of our parents demanded a trial." 

"We agreed." 

"Because—" 

"Because we thought we'd be proving them wrong." 

"We lost everything." 

"Or, at least—I had lost everything." 

Taehyung wasn't much of a crier—that was Jimin's job, and by the Gods, he hated those tears, too. So why—Why were his eyes suddenly so watery? The hair around him felt heavy, cold, and stale. 

He had half a mind to burst into the laboratory, stand before Jungkook, and proclaim that he was still here. That Jungkook still had him and that he was so, so fucking sorry. That there wouldn't be a day that would pass now where he wouldn't be there to hold his hand. Because Taehyung loved him. 

He hasn't stopped. The abrasive, explosive anger within a single night could never diminish even an ounce of the care he held for Jungkook. Because when they had first met, before it was him and Jimin, or Hoseok or Yoongi or Jin and Namjoon— it had been Jungkook. Despite having cared for all of them, Taehyung loved him first. 

He still does. 

But what should he say—now? When your soulmate stands before you, tone filled with such grief and desolation at the sheer recollection of you, of what you had and what you were. 

Taehyung didn't consider himself a coward—no, he was a true hothead who felt first and thought second. So he had practiced his confessions with Jimin, over and over, deep into the starry nights and bear ceilings. But his tongue felt heavy, and suddenly, all the words he had prepped felt inadequate. 

Taehyung had never been good with words. He couldn't string together poetic confessions like Namjoon or Jimin, lay out his soul like Hoseok, or make himself as clear and vulnerable as Jin and Yoongi. He was just well—unsure. He chose to act; when someone bothered Jungkook, he'd bash the perpetrator's head against a locker. If the headmaster went off again, he'd put a hex on the seams of his clothes. 

Jungkook deserved more than that. Not someone who immediately set out on a tyrannical war path, promising vengeance for every tear spilled because his baby bunny was upset and someone was paying for it. He deserved someone who didn't become completely overwhelmed with fury the moment he shed a tear, someone who would do more than just stand still with his head bowed low while being scolded. No, it had been six cursed years. Taehyung was going to show that he had changed, that he could—and would find the right words for him. He might not be as flowery or delicate—but they'd be his. 

"How'd it go?"

Jimin hurriedly asked before Taehyung even managed to close the front door. Taehyung, still feeling like a brooding cloud had formed over him, didn't utter a word as he meticulously took off his coat. He dusted it off despite only having walked to and from the science building before hanging it up. He stepped out of his shoes and put them neatly on the shoe rack, sliding into his slippers shortly after—to put it concisely, he was stalling.

Jimin frowned. It didn't take a genius to decipher the pensive mood looming through Taehyung's aura. Jimin would've gone with Taehyung to hopefully talk with Jungkook, but not only did the witch ignore his little note on the breakfast tray from earlier this week, but it also would have overwhelmed Jungkook. Neither of them wanted that—they just wanted to talk, to see him. 

Taehyung had finally looked up, eyes locking briefly with his own. His own breath caught briefly stuck in his throat at the pitiful sight. Taehyung's hair was disheveled, no doubt from his fidgety hands constantly combing through it. The rim of his eyes were a bit bloodshot, and trailing down his gaze to Taehyung's cheeks they appeared just a bit too red. Jimin bit the inside of his cheek, a poor attempt to keep his scolding at bay. He knew Taehyung handled his emotions differently and that whenever the witch was ever brought to tears, he'd wipe them away with such incredulous vigor till his cheeks turned raw. 

The sight was strikingly familiar. It barely felt like any time at all since Taehyung appeared like that in front of his door. Gods—it had been so late into the night that it became early. But Taehyung hadn't stopped; hadn't slept either— none of them had. The witch's cheeks had been sunken in ever so slightly, and the darkness underneath his eyes had completely altered Taehyung's otherwise healthy complexion. Taehyung had been out looking for Jungkook again. 

Jimin might never forget that night when he opened his door for Taehyung. How, during that night since Jungkook's disappearance, Taehyung had cried. Cried—a loose term for what had happened. Sobbed seemed more appropriate, the type that made one's legs feel weak, made it hard to breathe, and left you with a sore throat. It was the sound of someone losing hope. 

Taehyung never stopped looking—none of them had. But after the first few months, Taehyung's near-daily outings turned more sporadic. But they still visited Hangawoondae annually, still holding onto the fickle hope of spotting their bunny window shopping again. 

"Let's go talk in my room, hm?" Jimin suggested, carefully reaching out and taking a hold of Taehyung's cold hand. Walking past the living room still felt surreal to him, seeing Hoseok lounging while switching through the channels playing across the TV, elbow resting on the armrest and cheek squished against the palm of his propped-up hand. Jin was moving about in the kitchen, preparing a honey pastry with a ruminating look. The sweet dessert had been Jungkook's favorite, a fact that had gone unnoticed by no one. 

Nothing had been the same since Jungkook left. Being able to see some of his old hyungs and share a communal space with them again felt strange. He had missed it.  

Walking past the open space and down the hall, he ignored the twisting pang of emotion he felt by passing Jungkook's closed door. Whether Jungkook was there or not, that pale white door remained closed. He couldn't really blame him, especially after their last confrontation—Jimin understood.  

Gently nudging Taehyung into his (their) room, he gently closed the door. 

The enchantment wasn't necessarily very noticeable, the spells back boning loosely marked onto the inside of the doorframe. But walking through the door, a lingering sense of magic brushed against one's skin for a moment—not by much, but enough for anyone to be aware that the room they were entering was very much manipulated by an outside force.  

Gone was the dreary interior of a basic apartment bedroom, replaced by something more to Jimin's tastes, to his needs. The space was larger, with a wide circular window casting nearly the entirety of the room in natural light. Creams and soft colors scattered about, from blankets to pillows, frames, and wardrobes. A queen-sized bed covered in far too many throws and pillows. There wasn't a color out of place; everything followed a similar pallet. It would've looked stale if it weren't for Jimin's artistic eye, dotting little spots of complementary colors here and there, the occasional green plant from Namjoon giving the space a little liveliness. 

A picture frame of him and Taehyung rested on his bedside table, and a group photo of everyone during their third Solar dance in the academy hung against the wall. 

Jimin was aware of his contribution to their split. He had been so scared, hurt, frightened, and angry at the time. He had his reasons during that night; the time he spent in the Deep with the others was too long. The mission had been immoral from the start—who would do that to a bunch of teenagers? 

But still, he had never managed to actually get rid of any of their shared photos. He still had their old photo albums hiding underneath his bed; the one hanging against the wall was simply his favorite. Glancing at it now, their naive and smiling faces. His eyes lingered against Jungkook's young form; they had been holding hands. Jimin— Jimin couldn't bear to look at it. 

Yeontan was snoozing in his little dog bed, the hyper dog oblivious to the occurring drama. Hana, Jimin's white snake familiar, remained sunbathing by the window sill. Her sharp, snake-like eyes opened as the two witches entered the room. She remained silent, but she didn't need to say much to show her disapproval. 

Taehyung plopped himself down at the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his thighs while he dropped his head in his hands. Seeing Taehyung so depleted unsettled Jimin to the core, his pace slightly hurried as he sat down beside him.

"It didn't go well, huh?" Jimin hummed, beginning to rub gently at Taehyungs hunched over back. There was a silence that followed, a pause as Taehyung breathed, focusing solely on the rhythmic pattern of Jimin's soothing hand. 

"It didn't go at all," Taehyung muttered, voice hoarse. 

Ah. 

Ah.  

Jimin sighed, shoulders dropping as the little flicker of hope he had built dimmed. Taehyung had cried, when exactly he wasn't sure, most likely on the way back to the apartments. 

"Hyung…" Taehyung strained, the small plea halting Jimin's actions and line of thought at the sheer—grief? That Taehyung's tone carried. It broke his heart more than it already was. 

"Oh, oh honey, come here." He ushered, pulling Taehyung into his arms. A tight hold, reassuring in the sense of telling Taehyung that he was there, that I'd be okay, and that he's got him. So Taehyung fell. Small sounds, muffled by the wool of his sweater, soon became louder. More unkempt, earnest. 

"Hyung—hyung… he, he sounded—" Taehyung choked and sniffled as he tried pulling himself together. "He sounded so sad." 

Jimin shut his eyes, inhaling sharply. None of them had been spared from Jungkook's distraught gaze, from the disappointment and anguish encapsulated within those familiar eyes. They had deserved it. That much was clear, but still. Seeing it, hearing it, Jimin had wanted to drop to his knees. Bind his soul—more than it was already bound—to Jungkook and his own lifelong pursuit towards redemption. 

"Like—like the thought of us was something to grieve over." Taehyung's wavering voice cracked, prompting Jimin's own eyes to begin watering. 

Because that was his bunny, they were talking about. His companion from day one was that sweet, shy, silly mess he had bumped into in elementary school. The boy with the kindest eyes and most amazing abilities, his little prince, "Eomma says I can't be friends with nulls, Minie." How Jungkook never became like his parents was a true wonder, but he didn't. Not when they snuck off campus during recess or when they took turns pushing each other on the swings. Jungkook had always had a heart of gold, even when he was scared and riddled with insecurities; "Jungkookie, see this red string here? It means we'll be friends forever, forever and ever! Nothin' will change that, my eomma says we're lucky. So let's be lucky, k'ay? It's our lucky ribbon." 

Glancing down at his pinky, Jimin lingers on the five vibrant, red knots around his finger. The sixth, pale and washed out, only remained visible for a few inches before fading out into the air. But Jimin knows it’s still there—now more than ever. 

"We—we have to fix this hyung." 

Jimin nodded, gaze fixed and determined as he cupped Taehyung's cheeks. Using his thumbs to gently swipe away the offending tears, he looked into the scared eyes of his lover. The past week had been an utter cluster-fuck of emotions, a cruel combination of pure elation, utter grief, and guilt, and now fear. Because what if Jungkook never forgave them? It was possible. Despite how the singular thought tore at his heart, it was reasonable, too. 

They could lose him again. 

No.

No, Jimin wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't. Jungkook might never love them again, might never trust nor care for them. But he'd be there. In Jimin's life, in Taehyungs. 

"We will." 

Taehyung looked into his eyes, all too vulnerable and teary. Looking towards him for guidance, and Jimin felt all too misplaced. This was Namjoon's job, or Jin's, maybe even Hoseok's, when the situation called for it. They were all too adept at taking control, leading. But for tonight, he'd take Taehyung's hand and hopefully lead him towards a brighter future. 

"We found each other again. That's all we need." He mused, voice hushed and soft as he leaned down and pressed a kiss against Taehyung's furrowed brow. 

"We'll have forever to get it right."

Jungkook tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked, the warm coat doing little to keep the chill away. Mornings were always chilly around this time of year, just as autumn began to creep around. Jungkook couldn't really tell when his body was being affected by the outside temperatures anymore, considering how his limbs were gradually growing colder each week; breezes like these didn't really bother him anymore. A loud, exaggerated yawn pulled him from his thoughts. Glancing to his side, he smiled at Yugyeom's bundled-up form. A thick, knitted scarf hung around his neck, chin nestled securely in the warm material. The witch had never been much of a morning person—neither was he honestly, but nowadays he couldn't get more than five hours of consecutive sleep. 

Originally, Jungkook intended to stop by for only a day, fix his Halmoni up, and hop onto the next available train. But having Yugyeom here somewhat derailed his original, concise plan. With Yugyeom by his side, he couldn't help but want to show his friend everything he'd been up to and what he'd built for himself since leaving. Perhaps he was a little biased towards Jung-so, considering how the little witch had somehow nestled itself into his heart during their sessions. 

Iseul had stopped by the bookstore this morning, only there to briefly return a book she had borrowed. They didn't usually rent out books, but Chae-won had as much of a bleeding heart as he did, trying to support Iseul and Jung-so as much as she could. Which is how Jungkook ended up offering another tutoring session. Considering that it was a weekend and wouldn't conflict with the kids' schedule, Iseul readily agreed. 

"Since when do you like tutoring so much?"

Yugyeom's voice had cut through the comfortable silence, tone a little fussy from being wrangled out of bed before ten. 

Shrugging, Jungkook tried recounting exactly when he had grown to like teaching so much. He had grown up with all kinds of tutors; attending a school was mainly used by his parents as a form of socialization, a little something required by law, a hassle. If the teachings could be affordable by mainstream magicals, then they simply weren't good enough for his parents. Resulting in his rigorous schedule of six hours of public schooling only to come back home to be tutored privately; he only ever saw his parents for mealtimes. 

A blessing, really. 

Jungkooks upbringing was rigorous, strict, disciplined, and—well, lonely. 

Amongst missed birthdays and solitary dinners, Jungkook could account for two people who made his otherwise desolate childhood bearable. Jimin, a bundle of confident sunshine he met in elementary school, and Soo Choi. A middle-aged witch who began tutoring Jungkook long before he presented, before he could even materialize his mana enough to actually do something. But where his parents lacked, shrouded in the depths of their prejudice, there was the kindness of Soo Choi. A person Jungkook deems responsible for preventing him from becoming a replica of his parents, teaching him about magicals with an openness he hadn't found or seen before. 

Jungkook found himself wanting to be, in the presence of Jung-so and other uneducated children, someone that Soo Choi had been to him. A place of education, unbiasedness, and kindness. A person who taught magic, who could make all things mana, spells, and changes less scary, more natural. 

Letting out a small hum, he glanced at Yugyeom. "Probably because of Mrs. Choi."

Nodding, Yugyeom smiled. It was a fond smile, followed by a warm gaze Jungkook couldn't stand to look at for longer than needed. Yugyeom chuckled, cheeky bastard, clearly amused with Jungkook's flusteredness.

"What?" Jungkook muttered, not enjoying the giggling at his expense. 

"Oh nothin.'" Yugyeom snickered, the witch still clearly amused. "Although I'd love to see you teach, I don't really get why I'm here. You know how I did back in school." 

Jungkook nodded. Yugyeom had never been someone who let others or work stress him out. Jungkook still couldn't get over how Yugyeom had actually managed to pass their history class; considering how often he slept during those times, must've been witchcraft—considering it now, it probably was. 

"Remember Jung-so, the kid I told you about?" Yugyeom nodded, recalling one of their first catch-up sessions in the lab during inquiry day. 

"Well, he's the kid I'm tutoring now. He just recently presented as a witch, and his mom Isuel isn't a magical. The Dads out of the picture, and you know I can't perform magic. I was hoping you could show off a little, being able to see someone manifest some mana, meet someone who was a gifted witch too, might help ease Jung-so into things a little better." Jungkook explained, looking ahead as he watched the little cafe come into view. Cars passed them on the street, the clouded sky making the surroundings appear dull. 

Jungkook might not be able to relate personally to the struggles of gifted witches, but he was aware that they existed. Young children overwhelmed with their new abilities, uncertain how to proceed and finding the concept of magic unnerving. Jung-so was like that, a gifted witch originating from a mundane household. Unsure what being a witch meant, what that made him. 

Jimin had been like Jung-so.  

And he had helped him back then, too. 

"God, you're such a softy." Yugyeom huffed, smile fond as he playfully nudged Jungkook's arm as they walked. 

The cafe carried its usual warmth, a welcomed contrast to the otherwise freshness of the morning. Jungkook had only been away for about two weeks now, but seeing the familiar, cream-toned walls made him feel a little nostalgic. Jungkook could never recall a single day when the cafe wasn't filled, couples laughing, the occasional office worker chatting on the phone, the consistent calling of names. Despite the sheer number of customers, the place never felt rushed or hectic, something Jungkook ought to give the staff the most credit for. 

"Jungkook! I was beginning to think you switched cafes on us!" Han chuckled, making him flush a little. He hadn't come here that often, only every other day—and for tutoring, of course. Yugyeom, as if sensing his embarrassment, elbows him in the arm with a chuckle. 

"Hi Han, I actually left for my seventh trial, I'm only here to visit my Halmoni." Jungkook explained, receiving a simple nod from the barista. "I could've sworn I saw little Jung-so in the back; two hot chocolates then?" Han mused, but before Jungkook could agree, Yugyeom budged in. 

"And a coffee, please!" 

Han wrote down the order while he paid, Yugyeom waiting by the counter as Jungkook went to greet Jung-so. The thought of the little kid being on his own for too long unnerved him, even though he trusted the cafe—and Han, who always kept a watchful eye over the kid—he didn't exactly trust others.

Jung-so was sitting in one of the corner booths, slightly hunched over a book as he waited. Legs kicking out idly underneath him, he was the restless sort. But he wasn't crying this time, so Jungkook considered that a win. 

"Hey, kiddo, miss me?" He mused, prompting Jung-so to look up. The kid smiled, all crescent-eyed and flashing dimples, completely unaware of how it tugged on his heartstrings. Jungkook didn't expect it, nor did he expect the boy to hurriedly hop out of the booth and crush him in a hug, small arms wrapped around his waist and head nuzzled into his lower stomach. 

Chuckling, Jungkook crouched down and pulled the boy into his arms before picking him up and spinning them in a short circle. It strained his already sore arms, but Jung-so was laughing, and that's all he needed. Lowering him back down, he couldn't really suppress his own smile. "You make it seem like I was gone for forever," he teased before ruffling Jung-so's already messy hair. 

"You were." Jung-so huffed, sliding back into the booth. Jungkook followed, sliding in beside the boy. It was their usual spot, formed in a little semi-circle against one of the cafe's corners. 

"God, you two even look alike. Jungkook-ah, you sure your dad isn't keeping a secret from you?" Yugyeom chimed in, holding three drinks in a little carrier carton as he walked over and set it down. Glancing at the labels, he distributed the drinks accordingly. Jung-so shied away a little, glancing at Jungkook apprehensively. 

Jungkook laughed at the joke, rolling his eyes at the thought. He wouldn't mind it, having a brother and all. But Jung-so and he had already formed that kind of bond; they didn't need to be blood-related. “Jung-so, this is Yugyeom. He's a good friend of mine!" 

Yugyeom bent down so he was at eye level with the kid, holding out his hand and shaking it eagerly when Jung-so held out for a hand-shake. "Good to finally meet you, little man! I'm Jungkook's friend—well, more like his bestie. Now, someone's told me you presented as a witch. How exciting!" 

Jung-so nodded, a little more shyly but less reserved than before. Jungkook smiled, ushering them back to sit at the booth. He nudged the hot chocolate towards the kid, smiling at the polite thank you he got in return. 

"Jung-so, I brought Yugyeom here because he's a witch too." Jungkook explained, watching the kid's face light up. That was good, really good, actually. It was important for him to help Jung-so develop a good relationship with all things pertaining to magic and witches; it's a community that he could fall back on in the future. 

"Mhm, I sure am!" Yugyeom mused, smiling gently. 

One of the things Jungkook always admired about Yugyeom was how quickly the witch adapted to different people. This wasn't necessarily surprising, considering that Yugyeom was an empath. 

"I’m also a gifted witch!" 

Jung-so nodded, staring at Yugyeom for a second, then two, then three before turning to Jungkook:

"Whats a gifted witch?" He asked. 

Jungkook chuckled, watching Yugyeom blink a little as he recovered. 

"Well, magicals are categorized into two parties. For witches, it's between gifted and born witches. So, if both your parents are witches and you exhibit magical traits you're a born witch." He explained, before pointing to himself. "Take me as an example, I'm a born witch. I come from a long line of powerful witches." 

He paused, waiting for Jung-so to nod before continuing. "Gifted witches—" he continued, pointing at Yugyeom. "Like Yugyeom over here, are like you. Who don't necessarily have witching parents or grandparents. Sometimes, your great-great-great grandma was a witch and was able to harvest mana. Just enough to collect traces but not enough to use it. If she had mana, then her kid would likely inherit some too but remain dormant." Jungkook explained, grabbing a pen and paper and jotting down a simple family tree while he talked. 

"If there isn't enough mana in the body, it'll remain dormant. So it can easily pass through generations unnoticed, but it'll eventually accumulate and present itself through another generation." 

"Like me?" Jung-so mumbled. 

Jungkook nodded, "Mhm, like you and Yugyeom. Somewhere down the line, which can span across centuries. One of your ancestors began accumulating mana." 

"I know it can be a little startling, suddenly finding out you're a witch and all. Trust me, kiddo, I've been there." Yugyeom reassured, smiling kindly. Jung-so nodded, although it was obvious he still felt unsure. 

"Wanna see a magic trick?" Yugyeom piped up, no doubt sensing the slight dread through Jung-so's aura. He grabbed his cup of coffee, peeling back the lid and watching the steam rise through the air. Yugyeom kept focus, beginning to slightly twirl his index finger. Suddenly, through the cloud of steam, two silhouettes emerged. Dancing a small waltz around the cup, going higher and further into the air. 

Jungkook watched, smile crooked and unrefined as Jung-so's eyes widened with a natural curiosity. 

"What's important," he began, sipping at his own drink. Is that you remember that magic is only scary if you don't understand it—I know it's hard too. I mean, we witches carry extraordinary talents. To the untrained eye, that can be frightening." 

Slowly, as the steam began fading into the air, the two dancing silhouettes followed. It was a pretty trick; Jungkook had to give Yugyeom that. Although it looked fairly simple, it wasn't necessarily easy. They had both learned how to manipulate matter during their third year. Solids were much easier to mold than gas, especially when it came to such refined forms as a couple dancing, a realistic waltz at that. 

"But gifted witches are called gifted because—well, that's just it. Magic is a gift, something special." Jungkook smiled, gently patting Jung-so on the head. He wondered vaguely what kind of witch he was himself. Without magic, it was hard to carry the title without carrying what made him that. For the first time since cutting off his own mana, for sacrificing his own gift in exchange for a little more time. Did he feel like he had actually lost something. 

It was all just survival back then. He was competent enough not to need magic on a day-to-day basis. But seeing Yugyeom, the flying books within Veil's library, the familiars, the conscious shears and watering cans in the gardens, the constellations he'd cast onto his ceilings—it was all gone. Jungkook had given it all up. All for the sake of a few more days, months; he wasn't really sure. 

Seeing Jung-so discover the wonders of magic and how pretty it could really be, he wanted the kid to love it, to adore the craft as much as he did. He hoped that if all else failed and he truly did pass away, he'd be remembered for everything he loved because there was so much he cherished about this world. 

But he still had time. Eleven more months, that's all he needed. 

"Hyung, I thought witches weren't allowed to perform in public?"

Yugyeom began cackling, slapping his knee as Jungkook glared at him. "Oh hun, trust me. That's technically true, but you won't find a single person actually adhering to that rule!" This time, Jungkook reached over and nudged Yugyeom's arm.

"Yah! You're giving the kid bad ideas—Jung-so, don't listen to Yugs here. Follow the rules please." 

"Easy for you to say! Hmm, shall we talk about what you were like growing up, Kookie?" 

Jungkook narrowed his eyes, daring Yugyeom to continue. Which he did: "So, our Jungkookie here was actually quite the delinquent—"

"Lies and slander! Jung-so, avoid eye contact and cover your ears!" 

Jung-so laughed, "I already know! Hyungs Halmoni told me about it. Said you were a little riff-raff back in the days!" 

Jungkook gaped. Covering his heart as if he'd been shot, mouth open and eyes wide. "My Halmoni? My sweet—" Yugyeom's laughter interrupted his little spiel. 

"Aish, I grow to love that woman more by the day." Yugyeom heaved, wiping away his tears. It took them a few more minutes to calm down before Jung-so went on with his endless supply of questions. 

What was allowed, what wasn't. Chatting about their own experiences with presenting, cracking jokes here and there. Jungkook looked on as Yugyeom pulled Jung-so further out of his shell, the sight warming his heart. 

"Hyung, why does Yugyeom have more strings on his fingers than I do?" 

Jungkook paused, his eyes pulling together as he lowered his now empty cup. He glanced up, briefly meeting Yugyeom's surprised expression. "You—" he cleared his throat before sitting up. "You can see Yugyeoms soul strings?" 

Now it was Jung-so's turn to look confused, tilting his head. "Of course, most people have them. But Yugyeom has six, and I only have four." 

Jungkook nodded, it wasn't necessarily unheard of for people to be able to see soul strings. It was just a level of insight that most people did not share, it was rare of sorts. 

"Ah, Jung-so, being able to see soul strings isn't common." He avoided the word normal, the last thing he wanted to do here is make Jung-so feel like he was unusual. Too many neglected witches went through that feeling, and he couldn't help but want to shield the boy from it. 

"It isn't?" Jung-so mumbled hesitantly. 

"It's not bad!" Yugyeom hurriedly chimed in, unable to bear the sight of Jung-so deflating. It would've made him feel smug at how quickly he got wrapped around the kid's finger, but he wasn't any better off. 

"Witches can have affinities. Things they're really good at naturally, like unlocking special abilities that others can't. For example, I'm a green witch. It's an encompassing term for someone who has affinities towards nature—all things living. Some people have water affinities or light affinities." He went on, gesturing with his hand before pointing at Yugyeom. 

"Affinities don't have to be elemental or physical; for instance, Yugyeom over here has empath affinities. He can decipher auras and emotions far better than the regular witch." Yugyeom smiled, making a little heart with his pointed and thumb.

"So what does that make me?" Jung-so asked, still sounding tentative. 

The two older witches shared a brief glance, "Being able to see soul strings is most common amongst seers, hun." Yugyeom explained gently. 

"What's a seer?" 

"Someone who can glance into the future, who can look into people more than the average person." Jungkook tended to stay away from seers, mostly from his own eerie encounters. There's something about getting a hollow look from a stranger that just feels unsettling; he just didn't like it. 

"So, I'll be able to tell the future?" Jung-so went on, sounding more excited. 

Sighing, Jungkook hated having to burst the kids idyllic bubble. "Not exactly, Seers can't really control their affinities. Glancing into the future comes in short visions that you can't control—" Rising his hand, he hushed Jung-so before continuing.

"I know that sounds a little scary, but that's why magicals like you go to a special school. You'll find out what affinities you carry there, and the system will cater to your needs." Jung-so nodded, mulling over the new information. 

"So no one else can glance into the future?" 

Yugyeom sighed, a fond kind of sigh. It didn't surprise Jungkook, the kid never ran out of questions. Of course he wouldn't, this was all new and scary for him. Right now, he was just focusing on laying down the fundamentals for Jung-so so that when he finally transferred to a proper school or academy, he wouldn't feel too far out in the deep end. It felt like his responsibility. 

"Well, yes and no." Yugyeom chimed in. 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, continuing to elaborate. "Most magic can be learned. It's just different when you have an affinity for a certain subject. For example, some people can learn the art of future telling with tools like tarot cards and other mediums. But it will never compare to what seers are able to do. Someone with a water affinity cannot be compared to someone who focuses on spells manipulating liquids. You can study spell mastery all your life and still be different from a grimoire witch." Jungkook wished he'd have some glasses; he could push them up right now and look all proper. If his past self could see him now—he'd probably be stunned. After all, how could he have gone from a spray-painting delinquent to an eloquently educated tutor? 

It would've satisfied his parents; somehow, that thought made him sick. 

"Yeah! It's kinda like comparing a fish with a swimmer! You can learn how to swim, but you ain't nothin' like a fish." Sighing, Jungkook couldn't help but laugh. 

"Eloquently put, Yugs." 

"I'm a natural." 

Walking from the cafe, Jung-so held Jungkook's sleeve as they walked. Jungkook walked closest to the road, the kid in the middle and Yugyeom to the left. It was cute how the kid felt too "grown" to hold his hand and instead opted for his sleeve. 

They had spent another half an hour chatting, going over what they had already talked about and wrapping up any lingering questions. 

"Hyung?" 

"Hm?" 

"What can't I see your soul strings?" 

Pausing, Jungkook looked down at his pinky. The six red knots rested heavily against the skin, and yet, somehow, they remained as feathery as always. 

"Do you not have soulmates?" Jung-so sounded sad; why was he sad? 

A small chuckle pushed past his lips, mostly to usher away the grave expression taking hold on Jung-sos otherwise soft features. "I have soulmates; six actually. You're so young; don't expect your affinity to show up clearly all the time. It's unreliable so early on, you won't be able to see everyone's soul strings." 

Jung-so pouted, nodding his head as they walked. It was still afternoon, and although Jungkook wouldn't have minded spending the entirety of his free day teaching Jung-so, the kid needed a break, and so did Yugyeom, who had been rather eager this morning to walk around Busan for a bit. 

"Hyung?" 

"Hmm?" 

"How come we even have soulmates?" 

Yugyeom smiled. It was such an innocent question. It was clear why Jungkook had taken to such a kid, and although Yugyeom didn't know what Jungkook was like throughout his childhood himself, he could see some similarities. 

"It's a long story. It dates so far back that it's more myth than fact, really." Jungkook hummed. It didn't feel right to explain the gushy tale about soulmates. Even if he tried remaining natural, a quick glance between him and Yugyeom made his discomfort clear. 

"Have you ever heard of The Three Fates?" Yugyeom asked, taking the lead here. 

"No, were they the first soulmates?" 

Yugyeom shook his head, glancing down at his own tied-up pinky. "No, they weren't. The Three Fates were Goddesses in Greek mythology; together, they controlled the destiny of both gods and humans. One Goddess works as the spinner, determining a person's birth. The second was the allotter: she measured the length of a person's life. The third was the unturnable: she was responsible for cutting one's string with her shears." Yugyeom explained dutifully, not short on the theatrics as he acted out, spinning some thread before stretching it out and finally snipping it. 

"Okay, but what does that have to do with soulmates?" Jung-so asked, lowering his hand to hold onto Jungkooks hand properly. 

"Well, back then, everyone only had one string, their own. The strings connecting us to our soulmates now are still the same as back then, an extension of our own souls—the same ones The Three Fates would've woven and cut for us," Jungkook explained. It felt easier when he was just stating supposed facts. 

"Exactly! So, one day, Atropos The Unturnable ventured to earth. They say she met a kind stranger on her path, one who was hospitable and genuine, who offered her water and bread from their bag and shelter for the night." They crossed the street, nearing the convenience store.

"To reward their kindness, Atropos bestowed upon the traveler a favor should the time come." Yugyeom finished, ignoring the teasing look he got from Jungkook. 

"All it took was some water and bread?" Jung-so exaggerated, making them laugh. "Hospitality was very important back then," Jungkook reminded. 

"Anyways, the traveler disappeared. Years later, he came back to Atropos ready to exchange their favor." It was a well-known myth, considering that soulmates were the topic and all. 

"What was it? Did they ask for a soulmate?" 

If Jungkook had a penny for every question Jung-so asked—he wouldn't be rich, but he'd have quite a few pennies at this point. 

"No, the traveler had a lover. Sickened and weak, the traveler sought out Atropos. Realizing that their lover's string would soon be cut, they begged the Goddess to pardon their dying mate." 

Jungkook could relate to that desperation. Although he was assured of his capabilities, that finding a cure couldn't be impossible, that nagging urgency and despair with each passing month; Jungkook knew he wasn't above begging. Hells, he'd probably kneel in front of a goddess too if it meant he could stick around for a bit longer. 

"Atropos could not simply grant someone pardon however; and instead offered the traveler a compromise. She'd cut both their strings and tie them together, binding their souls and saving their beloved." Jungkook felt like Yugyeom was a natural storyteller. He had heard the same tale several times before while growing up. Still, Yugyeom treated it like a performance, capturing both his and Jung-so's attention while he talked. 

"But Gods aren't exactly well…the fairest. By binding the two mortal souls together, they were bound. If one perished, the other would as well." Jungkook knew gods still existed to this day, but they were rare. Demigods were really the only ones still spotted every once and again, from what he understood was that they preferred to lay low. Blend in. But boredom breeds a need for entertainment, no matter the costs.  

"Which is why it's called soulmates!" Yugyeom finished, clapping his hands together. "Soul because the souls are tied together, and mate, referring to one's beloved!" Jung-so smiled, walking through the convenience store's doors.

"So if one of my soulmates dies, I die?" 

Jungkook chuckled, letting go of the kid's hands before ruffling his hair. Grinning at the cute huff and pouty expression he got in return. "No kiddo, it's just an old myth. You'll be fine." 

"Hyung, how come I've never met your soulmates before?" Jung-so pouted, jutting out his tongue. Just as dramatic as Yugyeom, he remarked silently. 

"Well, they don't live here." He hummed, keeping his tone soft and leveled. He didn't want to think about it, about them. All these stories of love, sacrifices, loss, and happy endings were tying his stomach into a knot. 

Jungkook had loved. 

He had sacrificed. 

And he had lost. 

So, where was his happy ending? 

"Jung-so, listen to me for a moment." He breathed, kneeling down as he grabbed both of the kid's hands. "Soulmates can be wonderful. But they are just people, too. What matters most is how they treat you. Your happy ending does not lie in the hands of another, do you hear me? You deserve to be treated with kindness, respect, and love." He smiled, giving Jung-so’s hands a small squeeze before letting go. He tapped his nose, smiling gently. "Don't ever let someone tell you otherwise, got it?" 

Jung-so nodded, but his lips tugged downwards for a moment before he pushed to hug Jungkooks waist. 

"Hyung, you'll come and visit me often, right?" 

Jungkook wasn't too sure. He'd be busy, more than he already was with his inquiry. Time was ticking, and he still hadn't found a solid lead yet. He needed to work more, research more, study more, the list went on. He didn't have time to visit as often as he was, even if he wanted to. He couldn't promise Jung-so those frequent lessons anymore. 

"Hey, don't sound so sad. I'll come whenever I can, okay? If you ever need me, your eomma has my number. You can talk to me whenever you want and whenever you need something." Jung-so nodded, but he looked more upset than before. Jungkook knew that Jung-so could read between the lines, that this would be a longer goodbye than before. 

"Promise?" 

"Promise." 

Leaving the convenience store after dropping Jung-so off felt disheartening. It was always rough leaving the kid, especially when there was still so much to cover. Would Jung-so be okay? 

"I think the biggest lie you ever tried selling was the concept of you being an asshole." Yugyeom suddenly chimed in, breaking the silence. "You're a real sweetheart, Jungkook. You might not realize it yourself, but you always go the extra mile for people. Teach the lessons no one had taught you; that's admirable, Kookie." 

Awe. 

Jungkook flushed, he wasn't really used to such praises. It meant so much more coming from Yugyeom; it felt genuine. What should he say to that? 

"A twat maybe, but definitely not an asshole." Yugyeom remarked cheerily, clearly teasing as he grinned mischievously at Jungkook. 

"Yugyeom!" 

Laughter filled the air, the sun beginning to peek through the parting clouds. "Come on now Kooks, let's go shopping now!" 

Turns out that going shopping with Yugyeom was hard. 

The day had stretched on seamlessly as the two had stopped to eat lunch in a nook-in-the-wall restaurant, the type that was clearly run by an elderly married couple. The woman taking the orders before shouting them towards the back, a man skillfully preparing all forty-two dishes himself. At this point Jungkook had already taken Yugyeom to a few malls, splurging a little on his friends wardrobe, not without a little struggle of course and much to his own chagrin had been forced to try on countless items as well. 

Jungkook should have called it quits after eating; he had already felt a little rusty this morning. Joints hurting just a little more than usual, his head feeling just a little more foggy and tighter. He could tell from experience that today should have been a resting, lay-low kind of day. It was a kind of foresight one only really got through overestimating oneself, but Yugyeom hadn't been in Busan before. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted to show his friend his little part of the world. 

The pretty side. Away from all the melancholy shrouding him. 

Which is why Jungkook couldn't help but add another stop to their sight-seeing trip. "One of the best places to go for magicals in cities like Busan are markets like the Laminel Market." He explained, pushing past a metal gate. A little flash of heat prickled against his skin, a tell-tale sight of passing through a magical barrier. 

"Yeah, I haven't seen as many magicals in the city as I do in the suburbs." Yugyeom said, closing his eyes briefly as he walked past the barrier. 

"I mean, it's a lot harder to navigate a city with large wings or horns," Jungkook added, which got a shrug from Yugyeom before the witch paused and took in the sights of the market. 

Laminel was bustling with an array of magicals twisting and wandering around the lined stalls. Stalls and tents, crafted from materials ranging from spider silk to moonbeams, lined the meandering cobblestone paths. A symphony of otherworldly languages made the market hectic, but compared to other markets, that was rather normal. The air was filled with enticing aromas, whether from a wild assortment of herbs, teas, or other mystical treats from food vendors. 

Markets like these were the place to go if one needed any and all things magical; vendors, who themselves could be vampires, shifters, faeries, or witches, sell everything from cursed artifacts and ancient tomes to rare ingredients and flunky talismans. 

“Wow,” Yugyeom stammered. Eyes flicking over the surroundings as he walked through the market with Jungkook. The overarching sky was cast in a perpetual starry sky, a neat trick to make the bazaar more accessible to the nocturnally inclined. A pair of witches question and ogle a selection of simmering potions. Across the market, a dragon in human form haggles over a piece of meteorite. 

Further down, a group of mischievous pixies flit around selling maps to "hidden realms" to non-magicals. To the side, a faerie musician plays a peppy melody on a lute, captivating a crowd of diverse magicals. 

It was busy. It was hectic and so so magical.

Strings of fairy-lights hang from stall to stall, people conversing happily as they walked by. It was natural, a safe space for everyone who entered. Although humans were the most likely to get scammed in a place like this, they weren't necessarily unwelcomed as long as they behaved. 

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Jungkook teased, smiling at Yugyeom's slightly awestruck expression. The sheer auras must be a little overwhelming for the empath, but there was always a level of comfort when being surrounded by one's own kind like this. Being in a city like Busan left little room to properly indulge in all things magical; bazaars like this always seemed to refill that depleting battery. 

"It's so lively. I heard about the city markets, but I didn't think they'd be like this." Yugyeom vaguely gestured to all around him, eyes lingering on the jewelry stalls. 

"I get Halmonis tea from here, and I'm friends with the vendor." 

"Let me guess, the vendor's an oldie?" 

Jungkook passed, tilting his head as he glanced at Yugyeom. "How'd you know?" 

Yugyeom laughed, shaking his head incredulously at Jungkook's obliviousness. "Seriously! You're found fodder for them! A well mannered, polite little witchy boy who needs some affection." 

Jungkook paused, huffing as he looked away. They walked for a moment longer, his arms crossed over his chest as he pouted. "I'm not little…" 

Walking through the market was hectic, especially since Yugyeom felt the need to stop at every second stall they passed. But there was a sweetness to watching his friend converse so freely with others, laughing with vendors, trying a multitude of rings and necklaces. The occasional hat, shall, or other nicknack wasn't spared either. It felt strangely normal to be here with Yugyeom, and it still gave Jungkook a bit of whiplash to think they had only just reunited two weeks ago. It felt like they had never parted. A part of him understood why leaving Yugyeom had been a necessity and why he did it. But he also wished he never had; Yugyeom ushered away loneliness within him he hadn't even been aware he had. 

A sudden sharp throb against his forehead made him hesitate, his smile turning into a poorly concealed grimace as he let this new onslaught pierce against his skull. Jungkook knew he'd get a headache today, and most of his symptoms were accompanied by headaches. Like a headband far too tight, the pressure increasing throughout the day. 

His heart squeezed painfully like a small dull contraction, leaving his chest sore. He lifted his hand, gently rubbing small circles into his chest. His little episodes were bearable, but with each passing week, they were bordering on downright painful. But Jungkook managed; he was used to this, and he had been warned about this. He knew that if he were to glance at his wrist now, those hauntingly familiar black veins would mar his skin again like an unwanted tattoo. Instinctively, he pulled the sleeves of his black puffer jacket down further. 

"Jungkook—"

The earlier comfort in the market was gone, an unpleasant shiver running down his spine like the shadowy ghost of a hand. It was too loud, too busy, too hectic—

"Jungkook?"

His gaze snapped back to Yugyeom, blinking once, twice—again until he could focus back on who was in front of him.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Yugyeom asked, skeptical gaze wandering across his tense frame. 

No. 

No, he felt awful. 

"Yeah, I'm good. Got a little lost in thought there, I'm still trying to find proper source material for my research y'know?" Word vomiting wasn't exactly a fair way to avoid confrontation, but Jungkook didn't have it in him to properly lie and make an excuse for himself. 

"Thornvine is good and all, but its potency decreases after introducing it to air." Jungkook paused, ignoring the confused expression from Yugyeom. "Of course, we could put it into an airtight container but the nitrogen, oxygen, and argon would still find a way to interact with the medicinal herb whenever used." 

"Jungkook—"

"Thornvine is a purifier, but it detoxifies the entire body. Considering that the mana is what is actually corrupted, would the thornvine root potentially strain the remaining body?" 

"Jungkook!!" 

Jungkook paused, mouth shutting with a small snap as Yugyeom moved in front of him. "Breath, okay?" Stable, unwavering eyes met his, and Jungkook found himself unable to do anything but breathe. Yugyeom had a very stern voice if he needed it. 

"We were talking about rings, when did you get to thornvine roots again? Jungkook-ah, I find your work ethic admirable and I understand— the pressure you're under. But balance is important, yeah?" Yugyeom explained, clear and direct. Jungkook nodded, exhaling slowly as he calmed down. He'd rather get scolded than have his friend worried, Yugyeom was enjoying the market after all. He didn't want to be the one to cut that time short. 

"Okay, sorry." He breathed, sporting a weak smile. 

Yugyeom stared at him a little longer, clearly still skeptical about something, before letting it go with a sigh. Jungkook grabbed his hand, giving it a small apologetic squeeze. "Let's go to that tea stall now, okay? They give out free samples." 

Nodding, Yugyeom let him lead them through the crowds. Jia ran the stall with her sister, the two elderly fairies had a larger space compared to the others; small foldable chairs and desks littering the front for anybody wanting a cup of tea in person. 

"Ah! Jungkookies back! Bora look—look !" Jia rushed, Bora—her sister—grabbed the dangling pair of glasses around her neck and quickly put them on. Clapping her hands together in joy, "and finally with some company too! Whose this, your boyfriend?" 

Jungkook laughed, shaking his head as Yugyeom snickered. “No no, this is Yugyeom. An old friend of mine." 

"Oh, how lovely. Sit sit! I'll make some tea." Jia ushered, waving them over to sit down. Jia was a very peppy woman, always adorned in far too many layers and patterns. A smaller but larger framed woman whose writs were always covered in large chunky jewelry. Bora was the opposite, a very tall and lean woman who wore monotone colors. Behind each of their backs were small fairy wings. Although Bora was more direct and brutally honest than Jia, both of them were sweethearts. 

They both sat down after some thorough questioning, each being given a steaming cup of tea to enjoy as they talked. Jia and Bora both busy with other customers. 

"Alright," Yugyeom announced as he set his cup down once he noticed Jungkook's thoughts straying again. 

"Thornvine root loses its potency after exposing it to the air, right?" Jungkook was a little surprised by the change of topic, feeling a little bashful at his poor concealment. His head still ached, and his inflamed ribcage was begging for a warm heating pad at the moment. 

"Yeah, it's complicated to prepare but durable. I can't use it if it loses its effectiveness during consumption either." He explained, thornvine root was the best herb he had found for his condition. "My theory is simple so far, thornvine is a strong antioxidant. It has long-lasting purifying qualities." He waited for Yugyeom's nod before continuing. 

"If my mana is the subject of corruption, introducing a purifying agent could control or reduce the levels of toxicity." Jungkook wanted a cure—something to rid himself of this disease. But he was running out of time, and being able to develop a cure that would reduce his condition from fatal to chronic, then he considered that a momentary win. 

"We could put a spell on it? A type of concealment spell to keep the air away." Yugyeom suggested, glancing at his teacup absentmindedly. 

Jungkook shook his head, sighing sadly. "In theory, but no. If you put a spell on a consumable item, you'll also be consuming a small amount of mana. That could potentially develop into a catalyst for the condition." 

Yugyeom nodded, frown deepening. Jungkook had gone through all of this before, developing a theory only to be proven wrong. The defeat grew worse the further on he went when hope was snatched out of his fingertips yet again. It breeds a hopelessness he'd like to spare Yugyeom from. 

"Oh honey, you need to find yourself an azurelbloom!" Jia suddenly popped up beside Yugyeom, making the witch jump a little as he hurriedly grabbed his nearly spilt teacup. 

Jungkooks brows furrowed, trying to recall the herb Jia was describing. "I've never heard of an azurelbloom before." 

Jia hummed, gently tapping Yugeums head in a silent apology for spooking the boy. "The azurelbloom is very old, one of the few truly sentient flowers left on the planet. It was said—" Jia began, lowering her voice into a whisper to make the story sound more interesting. She pulled out a chair, inviting herself to sit down at the table with them. 

"The flower was said to be used by the Gods." 

Gods? 

"Aish, don't believe any of that nonsense Jungkook." Bora muttered, dismissing the idea with her hand as he sat down at the last remaining chair, spooking Yugyeom once more. It made Jungkook stifle a snicker, the two sisters could be quite—sporadic. 

"What?! The azurelbloom existed!” Jia argued, crossing her arms. 

"Perhaps 500 years ago. You're feeding the kid a legend Jia, what Jungkook really needs to do is go find the Nereids." Bora objected, pushing up her narrow glasses. 

"Nereids, as in, the water nymphs?" Yugyeom asked, still recovering from getting jumpscared—twice. 

Bora nodded, waving around the closed fan she always carried with her. "Nereids pulled all kinds of things into the water with them if they were fond enough. They are masters at preservation; if they desired a daisy one day, they'd preserve it to never touch the depths of their springs. If they're able to keep air in, it's only fair to assume they'd be able to keep air out, too." 

Jungkook nodded, finding a way to preserve the thornvine roots was his biggest obstacle at the moment. Perhaps if the Nereids showed him how, he'd be able to finally begin creating proper prototypes. 

"That all said and good, but don't nymphs have an aversion to men?" Jia asked, frowning at the thought. "You're sending the boy out into danger!" 

Bora scoffed at the accusation, "as if setting him out to hunt down an ancient, cognizant flower is any better." 

"Well, it's better then—" 

Jungkooks head pulsed, his fingers trembling underneath the table. He had a lot to think about, and yet, there was so little time. But he had a new lead, and that's all he needed. 

Now, how the hell was he going to find a Nereid? 

Come on… 

A little more… 

So close—

Jungkook gasped as the library's ladder began to slide to the left. He was leaning off towards the side, trying to reach a book on Ancient Greek folklore, or more specifically, nymphs. Unlike most magicals, who could simply summon the book down from the shelves where the library's encyclopedia stood on the podium, Jungkook—for several reasons—could not. 

Perhaps he should have just climbed back down and shifted the ladder a little to the right, but it had been a long day, and he was still partially recovering from his trip to his Halmoni. So, he had been lazy and was now going to suffer the consequences of tasting the old carpeted flooring as the ladder continued to slide. 

Closing his eyes, Jungkook briefly expected the impact to come as he inevitably lost his footing on the ladder as it stretched his form out. Gasping quietly—this was still a library, after all—Jungkook braced himself only to feel tingly? 

Eyes snapping open, Jungkook shuddered as he shortly levitated in the air before being carefully lowered down. His feet touched the floor slowly, but the adrenaline still made him stumble. His savior's magic linger against his skin, like a subtle warm or fading caress. 

But Jungkook could recognize that magic from anywhere, and he didn't even need to wonder who had saved him before turning around greeting Namjoon's worried expression. 

"Did you hurt yourself, Jungkook-ah?" 

Perhaps Jungkook would never get used to the sight of his old soulmates again. The library was a loose term for what Veils had to offer; it was more like a grand and ancient archive. Long, stretching bookshelves required sliding landers just to be able to access the top sections of the bookshelves. The middle of the library had long, heavy mahogany desks available for the students. However, small, shorter desks were also littered around along with comfortable seating for anyone simply trying to read. 

Natural light seemed to flood the library, too. Windows lined the walls, filling the otherwise academic architecture with warmth. Namjoon stood before one of these windows, the light peeking around his silhouette and embracing his form. Jungkook hadn't taken the time to properly look over Namjoon, he had briefly glanced over him when moving in and during their last argument, but now Namjoon was before him and—and he looked beautiful. 

Yeah, Jungkook would surely never get used to the sight. 

There was a new sense of maturity in Namjoon's appearance, from the way his posture was straight yet still carried a certain mellowness. His face and features are now sharper and more defined. Six years had been a long time; somewhere along the way, all of them had gone from boys to adults. Of course, things would have changed. Jungkook just hadn't noticed it before, the intensity in Namjoons changed gaze. 

His style alone had changed too; back in the academy, Namjoon had never strayed from the required uniform, but on holidays, the mandatory dress code wasn't enforced; Namjoon had still chosen to dress in rather formal, business-casual attire at most. Jungkook recalled, rather fondly, how Seokjin and Jimin had dedicated nearly an entire day to pepping up Namjoons wardrobe. They had hunkered down in Jimins and Taehyung's shared room, clothes spewn half-hazardously across the floor, across chairs and their beds, Namjoon forced to parade in front of the full-length mirror like a personal manikin as they tried discovering Namjoons preferences together. Hopefully to stray from his interrogation-like style and more of a casual academic style. Their day hadn't been the most productive, but they did discover that Namjoon enjoyed certain styles over others. Jungkook had enjoyed that day, simply goofing off with his Hyungs and forcing his usually put-together Hyung in various styles and outfits. Having watched Namjoon be out of his element for once had quite the bonding factor for him, especially since Namjoon had struggled so immensely with showing his vulnerabilities. Vaguely, Jungkook couldn't help but wonder how much that has changed. 

Even now, Namjoon wore a soft set of grayish-brown suit pants—some habits never die, it seems—tied at the waist with a black leather belt that matched the black turtleneck that hugged his body. A loose, large-sleeved gray cardigan ties the outfit neatly together. Namjoon appeared soft but still put together enough that Jungkook assumed would make Namjoon feel comfortable. 

How could Namjoon simply look so effortless? It irritated him, mostly because he got caught staring. Who could blame him? He hadn't seen Namjoon in nearly six years; somehow, his eyes were still trying to catch up with the fact that Namjoon was real , that he was in front of him. Besides that, what frustrated him more was that within the past week, he had been asked the same question twice already by both Hoseok, Yoongi and now Namjoon as well. 

Jungkook had hoped silently that they could all just go their separate ways after their argument. At least they could all just pretend to hate each other, right? Hating them was easy. Even if Jungkook's feelings stretched far beyond just hate, what was going on was far more complex than just simply being sad or angry. Hating them was the only way it didn't hurt. 

Finally snapping out of his embarrassing stupor, Jungkook nodded. "Yep, just fine. Thanks." He murmured, looking around him to spot the book he had nearly taken the fall for lying on the floor. Bending down, he picked it up quickly. He wanted to leave. Lest he take a look into Namjoons all too familiar eyes. It was like taking a look at one's past while simultaneously glancing at one's own unachievable, daunting future. A world consisting entirely of what-ifs and had-beens. 

It scared Jungkook how much he was still able to hurt for these people. For him. 

"Well, anyways, I'll be going—"

Namjoon quickly stepped in front of him, stopping Jungkook from escaping the situation. Brows now furrowed in irritation, Jungkook took a step back. The string connecting them tugged lightly, almost unwilling to let him escape their unwelcome proximity.

"Namjoon, move." 

"No, please—" Namjoon exhaled, brushing his hair back with his hand nervously. He glanced around before finally locking eyes with Jungkook. It nearly took the sickly witches breath away, they hadn't been that close before, Jungkook hadn't seen those sincere eyes since— since then. 

It hurt.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.” Namjoon began, frowning deeply. "For everything. Gods have mercy; there aren't enough ways for me to apologize to you for all that's happened. But also for our last argument, emotions were strung high and I—" Namjoon inhaled sharply, his exhale a little shaky. "You had every right to react the way you did, telling you to calm down was inappropriate of me. I spoke out of turn, and I'm sorry for that." 

Ever the diplomat, Kim Namjoon. Jungkook thought bitterly. However, an apology was better than none, Namjoon's reaction had been out of turn, no matter how diplomatically refined his apology came across. Jungkook stood silently between the narrow aisle of bookshelves, staring at the man he had loved endlessly six years ago as he let his apology dangle heavily in the air. But Namjoon was right, there weren't enough apologies in the world for his anguish to subside. 

Namjoons apology came too late. 

The silence between them made Namjoon nearly sink in on himself, the older witches hand hesitated as it briefly lifted to reach out for Jungkook, halting mid air before dropping limply to his side. Eventually, it balled up. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Jungkook." Namjoons usually relaxed voice sounded wobbly, unsteady as the pleading witch swallowed. 

And just like a dormant dragon, Jungkooks anger sprung back to life. Mostly because the sheer vulnerability within Namjoon's tone unsettled him, and another because the string connecting both him and Namjoon tugged weakly on his finger. He still wasn't used to that feeling; no, their bonds had remained devoid of any and all motion during the past years; feeling it move rattled him. There was something about seeing a shine to Namjoons's eyes that also irritated him. Why was Namjoon close to crying?—he had no right. 

Jungkook had been the one hurt here. 

The silence hanging between them was uncomfortable, nearly sparking from its intensity. None of them spoke, and with a resounding sigh, Jungkook's shoulders sank. 

"I'm not sure what you want me to say, Namjoon-sii." Perhaps that was the most level-headed Jungkook could be at this moment, but there was a certain defeat in his tone. 

"I can't say that everythings fine, that you are forgiven, that I don't hate you. None of that's true—" Namjoons remorseful gaze never left his, when had been the last time they had looked into each other's eyes? "—and you know that."

Again, the library's silence grew louder in its stillness. Namjoon seemed to be mulling over his own words, before he nodded. “I know that, Jungkook-ah. I'm not asking for your forgiveness," there was a pause, and Namjoon seemed to understand that asking for Jungkook's forgiveness was beyond him. That— that was something he wasn't allowed or able to request. 

"All I'm asking for is a chance—" 

"No." Jungkook cut him off, he wanted none of it. 

"Please, just to talk." Namjoon continued, a level of desperation as he pleaded. "Jungkook, I haven't seen you in six years. Please, I know I'm in no place to make requests from you—"

"So don't." 

Namjoon heaved a sigh, combing his hair back. "I've missed you."

Gods, what would Jungkook give to never hear Namjoon say that again. Such simple words, wrapping around his throat like a noose. 

But Namjoon continued, his own draconic eyes mirroring the desolation and fear that this could be their last time talking. "Please, Jungkook. Let's talk—we need to—to talk." 

Jungkook closed his eyes, inhaled sharply, and counted to ten until he opened them again. Keeping the wateriness at bay was futile, and he watched as Namjoon's hands itched to wipe his tears away. The elder stayed still, good. 

With a deep breath, tone cold and filled with a pained contempt, he spoke, perhaps a final time with Namjoon:

"You didn't just walk out of a room that day, Kim Namjoon." 

"You walked out on me."

There was a finality to Jungkooks tone, a bit unrecognizable to his own ears. But it needed to be said, Namjoon needed to hear it as much as he needed to say it. 

"The moment you walked out that fucking door. You relinquished everything you had on me. You have no rights to my life anymore. So don't—" Jungkooks voice quivered, forcing the sickly witch to swallow down his rising emotions. "—don't ask me to talk with you, especially when we have nothing to say to each other." 

Jungkook's hand tightened around the spine of the borrowed book, taking a few steps back. 

"Not anymore," he murmured, giving a slight bow with a politeness associated with strangers. "Goodbye, Namjoon-sii." He whispered, holding onto a faulty sense of closure as he walked away.

The sharp sound of a book slamming shut, followed closely by an elongated sigh, broke the silence surrounding the laboratory. Glancing out the window, the sun had set hours ago; leaving the sky generously decorated by the stars. Yugyeom had left the lab hours ago, not without the firm prompting of the Im coven threatening to send over some of its members to collect Yugyeom personally (which they had); it had been cute. It comforted Jungkook how well-matched Yugyeom and the Im coven were. He glanced briefly at the empty food container on his desk, a gift from Jaebeom since Jungkook had made a habit of getting take-out since he didn't want to spend any more time in his shared apartment than necessary. 

Originally, he had only accepted the meal under the guise that the coven had simply made too much for dinner last night, but this being the fifth day in a row, he was beginning to have some doubts. 

It had been—what? Six days since Yugyeom and he had returned from Busan? It took nearly the entire train ride back to persuade him to tone down his fussing, and even now, Yugyeom focused more on his meals than ever. Apparently, he hadn't been all that subtle at the market. 

Nearly every morning, Yugyeom would come in with a hot drink in his hand, usually a type of tea and a little snack. The teas, always kept warm by simple magic, contained some type of health benefit. Youngjae began joining them during the mornings, explaining a little more about each current selection. Jungkook later found out that Youngjae was the one actually making and brewing the tea specifically for Jungkook's health, each day selecting something different. One day, it had been a brew specific for his metabolism, another for his muscles or heart, and something generic and basic. Occasionally—and thanks to much discussion—the Ims would only bring him food for lunch every once in a while. Now that he was receiving food nearly every night for dinner, also accepting a clearly homemade meal for lunch just felt like too much. Too leeching.

So on the rare occasion where Jungkook allowed himself to be manhandled off towards lunch, he'd eat with Yugyeom and usually some of his other coven members. Depending on who had time at the moment, Yugyeom rarely ate alone. Jaebeom was the head of the coven, prompting him to be significantly more busy than the younger members. But Jungkook managed to spend nearly most of his week with the Ims, and it was—it was nice. Mark and Jackson made him laugh more times than he could count; Youngjae was easy to fall into conversations with, especially regarding his growing herb garden. Jinyoung had traveled a lot before finding his soulmates, and Jungkook loved hearing about the man's adventures. Jaebeom gave off a sense of authority that Jungkook generally avoided, but as the days flew by, Jaebeom grew softer and more doting. BamBam, as it turns out, is as much of a brat as Yugyeom, roping Jungkook into whatever they had planned for the day. 

Glancing at the fresh bouquet of flowers in the corner by the windowsill, he couldn't help but wonder which of the Ims was responsible for replacing and filling the empty vase every two to three days. At first, Jungkook found the gesture cute for Yugyeom, if only the flowers hadn't been on his side of the lab each time.  

The flowers didn't come from Youngjae's garden, so he could only assume it was another form of encouragement from the coven.

Spending time with the Ims felt natural and easy. Despite all their poorly concealed fussing, no one looked at him with those solemn expressions he absolutely loathed. Besides the teas, the inconspicuous push of vegetables, broths, and not-so-subtle additions of meats to his plate, he was treated like a person—not a tragedy but a friend. 

It meant a lot to him. 

A soft, subtle knocking disrupted his poor attempts at getting anything done. Glancing away from the flowers, he knew he'd have to revisit the topic of nymphs and nereids at a later date, most likely tomorrow. 

The lab door opened before Jungkook could get up, glancing around to see if Yugyeom had forgotten his coat or phone again. 

"What did you forget this time, Yugs?" Jungkook hummed sarcastically, turning to look at the door before halting. His amused smile slipped, taking in the sight of Jimin holding a large bouquet of flowers. A delicate assortment of purple hyacinths, tulips, sunflowers, and white lilies separated by the occasional green leaf or branch. 

The bouquet was beautiful, as were the last few he'd received. They would've been even more beautiful if he hadn't just realized they had been coming from Jimin. 

Jimin looked shocked, as if he wasn't expecting Jungkook to still be in the lab. Which was wild, considering that it was his laboratory. His eyes were wide, staring back at Jungkook in a slight stupor. He wore a white puffer jacket that was zipped up all the way, a gray scarf tucked snuggly around his neck. His cheeks and nose were dusted a light pink from the cold, the hand holding the bouquet a cold pinkish as well. 

Jungkook seemed to snap out of his surprise first, clearing his throat as he mimicked his nonchalance. "What are you doing here?" 

He sounded calm and insouciant. Jimins' presence bothered him, and so did the newfound knowledge that the bouquet of flowers he always spent time admiring each morning was from him. But it was well past midnight, and Jungkook had woken up early that morning to head to the library—his interaction with Namjoon still heavy on his shoulders. Working just helped in that regard, with each word he read and every page he studied. Devoting himself to what truly mattered helped sway the focus back to where it should be; his cure. 

As if snapping out of a trance, Jimin perked up before tumbling over his words. "What?—OH, yes—yeah, I just umm… came here to replace the—uh, flowers." Jimin looked sheepish, which was rare considering that hardly anything made Jimin flush back in the day. At least, they hadn't been able to. Jimin had been open to, well— most things. Besides little embarrassing hiccups around strangers, hardly anything could deter Jimin's unwavering confidence back in the day. 

Did—

Did Jimin consider him a stranger? 

Somehow, between all the bitterness and sorrow he felt when looking at Jimin, the thought of being reduced to a simple stranger bothered him. Not when they had known each other for longer than they hadn't. Not when Jimin had meant everything to him. 

"Ah," for a moment Jungkook wished he could string together an actual intellectual sentence. But it was hard to think around any of his old coven members, there was something about their mere presence that overwhelmed him with emotions. Clearing his throat, he glanced away bashfully as Jimin's gaze softened on him—fondly? 

"I wasn't aware you were the one leaving those." Jimins lip quirked upwards at his words, the witch rolling on his feet before Jungkook let him in with a stunted nod. He walked over to the vase, carefully taking out the resting flowers. Besides a few petals here and there, the bouquet never managed to look withered before Jimin supposedly replaced it. He tended to them with a level of care that borderlined on affection, and Jungkook couldn't handle the thought of any of them, including Jimin, being affectionate with him. 

"Yeah, I had wanted to talk to you after you got settled in. But when I got to your lab, you weren't there." Jimin explained, his voice composed and warm. He took the new bundle of flowers, removing its rapping carefully before summoning a quick set of pruning scissors and beginning to prep the ends. Jungkook sat still, unable to process the normality of Jimin's behavior. 

Maybe Jungkook was just really tired. He still hadn't fully recovered from his episode in the market, or maybe he just hadn't slept enough. But having Jimin in his laboratory felt strange, and so did his warm, gentle tone. It was just so Jimin. 

It had been years. Nothing about the man before him should still feel familiar. 

"I just noticed how dull everything looked, y'know?" Jimin went on, skillfully beginning to arrange the set of flowers he bought into the vase. 

"This is a laboratory, not a gallery, Jimin-ah." Jungkook retorted, crossing his arms. 

Jimin laughed, lightheartedly and airily. Like the gentle music Jimin's laughter had always been, even with how soft and quiet it was now, it eased Jungkook's tense shoulders. After all these years, Jungkook still found himself so weak for Jimin. 

A weakness he couldn't—shouldn't allow. This was about himself, his protection, his self-preservation, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to usher Jimin out of his sanctuary. He only lowered his head, picking at the soft fabric of his sweater.  

"I just—" Jimin paused, hand trailing over the stem of a white Lilie. "Remembered how you used to like picking flowers every spring; the seasons are changing and all, but I thought you'd like a little color in here regardless." Sighing quietly, Jimin stepped back to admire his work. The flowers were arranged beautifully, even if Jungkook didn't want to admit it. 

A silence stretched between them, lingering lonesomely. "This room gets a lot of light. So I thought sunflowers would look quite good in here." Jimin mused, glancing around Jungkook's filled work desk curiously. 

He should've asked Jimin to leave the moment he entered. But Jungkook was at a wits end for tonight, between too much work and little sleep, spending the better part of a day trying to figure out a way to get occasionally man-eating goddesses to help him out. 

It can't be that hard, right? 

Jungkook kept his gaze on the flower arrangement, there was something ironic about the sight of sunflowers without any sun to bask in. Jimin had a light affinity, a literal, breathing, sun. 

"You shouldn't be here this late, Jungkook-ah, it's not healthy—" 

"You were like the sun." Jungkook croaked, projecting a silence against the room. Faintly, one could hear the soft calling of crickets outside despite the laboratory being on the upper floors. 

His eyes lingered on a sunflower protruding from the arrangement, a strange sense of melancholy erupting within him. Jungkook was exhausted, there just wasn't any room for anger tonight. Looking at Jimin, all Jungkook felt was a bittersweetness that edged more on sorrow than anger.  

"You were my sun." Had his voice always sounded so fragile? There was a lump in his throat forcing him to swallow.

"And—" 

"—and when you left ." 

Jungkook looked up, his absent gaze finding Jimin's rueful ones. His old soulmate's waterline glistened, a wetness threatening to spill over if Jungkook went on.  

"You took the sunlight with you." 

Just because a witch had an affinity didn't mean they had to share a personality with their abilities. Necromancers didn't have to be edgy and downright creepy, nor did seers have to be reserved and wise, but Jimin— Jimin was like a ray of sunshine. 

When they had met Hoseok for the first time, it had been like two stars colliding. Erupting to create a light so warm, so gentle that they had all been drawn to it. 

"I—I spent years in that darkness, not able to see where I'm going, where I'm heading, it was all just empty." How many times, prompted by the jinge of the bookstores bells, had Jungkook wished he'd see Jimin's familiar face? 

"So when I finally—Finally managed to light a candle, you show up." He didn't mean to sound so grim, but their reality was; in fact, far from perfect. It had always been the two of them, like Bonnie and Clyde or Robin Hood and Marian. Until it suddenly wasn't. 

"And I don't care, I don't care that your presence promises me sunlight." 

"Jungkook-ah—" Jimins voice quivered, sounding watery. "Can I just please—"

"Because when you took it the first time, you also took my sense of security within you."

Had he been too dependent on Jimin? Of course not; they had been soulmates, after all.  

"When you left, you made it look easy —" 

Jimin had always shone so beautifully; if he had been the sun, then Yoongi would've been the moon. Only now did Jungkook realize that in all his life he had never been anything more than a mere sunflower.

"—like, like it was easy to leave me." 

Autumn was approaching; Jungkook hadn't noticed it before, the subtle chill joining the breeze brushing past him. The leaves were beginning to change colours, greens migrating into different shades of yellows and oranges. The park's gravelly path wasn't littered with foliage yet, but occasionally, a leaf would separate from its twig and dance through the air before landing on damp grass. 

It was early. Early enough in the morning, that the park was still a tranquil haven, cloaked in the soft hues of dawn. The trees stretch out the shadows of the rising sun, its golden hue forcing the dewdrop-covered leaves to practically sparkle as the warming light peaked through branches. The air still had a certain bite to it, a crisp that usually faded throughout the later mornings, currently carrying the sweet fragrance of dew-kissed grass and blossoming flowers. 

Jungkook wasn't usually an early bird; he was late to rise and even later to rest. But it had been Yugyeom's suggestion for Jungkook to indulge in other things outside the laboratory, which is why he was here now. Caring a small bag Yugyeom had gifted him consisted of nothing besides a small sketchbook and pencil. It was an old hobby of his—to draw. Quite frankly, he had ceased all of his hobbies after his diagnosis. It felt bittersweet; Jungkook hadn't really realized just how much he had given up that day. 

Jungkook consistently trod the delicate line between elation and guilt. Throughout his years of study, he carefully avoided any and all thoughts of his inevitable death. He could—He couldn't accept it. Every action he took, every chapter, every essay, every paper he read was done with an innate sense of dedication—of urgency. 

He wasn't going to die. 

The grass, still dappled with the glistening remnants of the night's dew, crunched underneath Jungkook's boots as he wandered off the path and towards an empty bench looking out onto the lake. A sense of renewal pervades the air, and the stillness carries a promise of unknown possibilities. Mallards still stayed floating on the water's rippling surface, heads tucked on their backs and against their wings. The birds nesting amongst the surrounding trees had gradually begun to sing, soft chirps and boisterous calls echoing through the rustling leaves. It was almost as if the park itself was awakening with the day, ready to unfold its wonders for those fortunate enough to witness its early morning beauty.

Jungkook almost found it amusing how Yugyeom's exuberance rekindled his own. How, in his steel-fortified focus, he hadn't recognized the depths of his own isolation. Along the way, toeing between different kinds of grief and sorrow, he had somehow convinced himself that companionship was unnecessary. Now, he had someone holding his hand again. Looking out onto the lake, Jungkook watched as the first ducks began awakening, beginning to prune their feathers before he glanced at the small beige tote bag Yugyeom had handed to him. 

It felt surreal—how things were beginning to change. Jungkooks own echelon was beginning to form, and watching the ducks cluster together as they awoke made Jungkook oddly happy. He had his Halmoni, now Yugyeom and Balam, and he was even becoming evermore familiar with the Im coven from their frequent visits to his shared laboratory. 

With every passing day, Jungkook felt his head slowly emerge from the water he felt himself sinking into. He had always boasted about his ability to move forward after his verdict, but comparing his current now and his previous then.

Had he ever really moved forward? 

His eyes caught onto the still resting form of a swan, the bird's long neck laid across its back and eyes closed as it drifted across the lake. He couldn't help but wonder lazily, what was the saying—Swans mate for a lifetime? Moving to grab the tote bag, Jungkook grabbed the small sketchbook and pencil, perching the notebook on his lap before beginning to sketch the idyllic swan. He was rusty, no doubt from his six-year gap, but he quickly familiarized himself with the nostalgic peace sketching gave him. 

But the reposed silence didn't last long, the sound of someone sitting down beside him had Jungkook tensing. The slight edges of annoyance filling his aura, as a quick glance around gave way to several empty benches. Glancing to his side, Jungkooks breath caught in his throat as he looked at Taehyung. 

The witch wore a long, gray-textured wool coat that reached a little past his knee. A large, red and dark gray chequered scarf draped over the back of his neck, leaving his neck exposed. Jungkook wanted to scoff, partially because wearing the scarf was pointless like that, and to resist the urge to wrap it around Taehyung's neck properly himself. The hell was up with him?

The witch also wore a pair of auburn brown pants that matched well with his white sweatshirt. Taehyung's entire outfit gave off a clean but simple look, matching well with the growing autumn colours. Taehyung had yet to look at Jungkook, eyes instead gazing forward and observing the same picturesque scenery Jungkook had been soaking up all morning. Most specifically, Taehyung seemed to be watching the rising swan. 

Jungkook hated it. He found it abhorrent how his hands itched to fix the witch's scarf, how he couldn't keep his eyes from marveling at the stark change between his Taehyung and this Taehyung. However, he figured the worst part of all—was how beautiful Taehyung still was. 

Jungkook was no longer looking at a rough-looking delinquent with smokey eyeliner and overly moussed hair, and neither was he breathing in the smell of old leather or subtle spray paint. No, the Taehyung beside him was entirely different. He smelt of subtle cologne and wore no make-up at all, adorning a well-picked-out outfit for autumn that complemented his stature entirely too much. Taehyung, when did you change? 

"The others told me not to talk to you." Taehyung began, and somehow Jungkook couldn't help but connect the opposing witches' aura to their surroundings; somehow Taehyung carried the same nippy frost the freshening air did. 

"But I don't care," Taehyung added, and despite the clear disregard towards his own wishes—he found Taehyung's disobedience comical, familiar. "Jimin told me about what you said to him." 

Ah, Jungkook had almost forgotten just how close they all were with one another. Jungkook had accepted the fact that his path would never align with his soulmates again—he came to terms with that. But that night, all of them had split up. Jungkook had remained unaware that while he trotted around the world like a pariah, they had been wandering together. 

Jungkook inhaled, his shaky breath coming out quivery as it clouded against the fresh morning air. There was no way that that realization would ever not hurt him. 

"He looked for you." 

Taehyung hadn't looked at him as he spoke, but it carried a curtness he was familiar with. There was a subtle, pensive sweetness to the familiarity; that despite the physical changes, Taehyung would always remain Taehyung. It took Jungkook a moment to catch onto exactly what he had said, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion before realization dawned on him. 

Briefly, the scene of Taehyung entering the auditorium and jogging towards Jimin's brooding figure during Yugyeom's presentation flashed through him. The sight of Jimin's turbulent thoughts vanishing, practically melting under Taehyung's doting affections. They were so close to one another. Bonded. 

"What?" Jungkook piped, looking out at the grooming swan. It was ironic to be surrounded by so much ataraxia and yet remain utterly troubled. 

Jungkook watched as Taehyung's blank expression cracked, the facade quivering as he whispered, "We—well, we looked for you." 

This time, it was Jungkook's turn to avoid eye contact because—what was he supposed to do with that information? Give Taehyung a participation sticker? A part of him wanted the other witch to stop this conversation entirely because, despite his efforts, his unbridled hate and contempt for everything regarding soulmates—Jungkook still bled for them. With every word, with every encounter, his heart would begin to weep all over again. Taehyung's words hurt, an ache entirely different from anything that could've been caused by insulting him. It was a deep, visceral kind of throbbing.  

"We searched for years," Taehyung whispered, and perhaps if the park wasn't nearly as serene and empty as it was, Jungkook would've lost the softness of them to the wind. 

A moment passed, Taehyungs gaze lowering to the ground as his expression contorted into one of mild frustration. Jungkook vaguely remembers a similar reaction to a conversation they had long ago, where Taehyung confided in him and complained about his inability to properly express himself. Jungkook couldn't help but wonder if those words still applied today. 

"There wasn't—" Taehyung paused, inhaling as his tongue flicked to wet his lips. "There wasn't a pebble we left unturned Jungkook." Please, Jungkook thought pleadingly, please don't say my name like that. 

As if the world depended on Jungkook believing him. 

"Jimin hyung," Taehyung began again, "Jimin even went to your parents." The witch let out a dry, bitter-sounding chuckle that was more spiteful than anything else. Jungkook instantly understood, his own surprise at the information wearing off. His parents were huge, bigoted classists who were pretty prejudiced against gifted witches—those who weren't born into a witching bloodline—opposed to their superiorly born witches. 

Jimin was a gifted witch, as in he hadn't actually developed his abilities until the MCA classified him as a magical. There wasn't necessarily any difference between the abilities of a born witch and gifted witch, but prejudices still existed nonetheless. Jungkook never cared for any of that bullshit. But to imagine Jimin, a man who has always been viewed as inferior by his parents, knocking on their door and asking about his whereabouts stirred his mixed emotions even more. 

"You could imagine how well that went." Taehyung cursed, hands scrunching up. "The old hag tore him apart—rightfully so, but Jimin only ever repeated his question." 

A small flock of ducks flew down towards the lake, circling it once before slowly lowering into the waving water with energetic wingstrokes. They squeaked and squawked, playfully circling each other as they occasionally ducked for food. Gradually, people began entering the park too. The lonesome jogger or dog walker following the path outlining the body of water. 

"So I went to find Jimin, and together we began combing through Hangawoondae together." Taehyungs expression never truly changed as he recounted what occurred after Jungkook left. His fists were hidden in his coat pockets, but Jungkook could tell that he was cycling through a restrained pattern of clenching and unclenching his fists. 

"But together, we couldn't find you either." Somehow, Taehyung still managed to tone his words with a level of despair that made Jungkook wonder if he was still missing. "So we went to find Namjoon and Jin." 

Jungkook knew he shouldn't be indulging Taehyung like this—he should've left. But another part of him wanted to know , he wanted to know what they did when he left. The first weeks on his own were gruesome, a collaboration between being cold, hungry, and lonely. When all Jungkook had was an empty park bench to lay on for the night, his gaze cast up into the desolate starry sky. Wondering vacantly where they were, whether or not anyone was out there looking for him.   

Jungkook knew that despite all the supposed hate and disassociation he had prided himself on, he never lost a certain hope throughout the beginning. With every jingle of the front entrance bells at his Halmoni's store, Jungkook had hoped to see a familiar face. But that day never came, and those hopes died after the third year had passed. 

So Jungkook remained seated, his pale hands resting on his knees, fingertips dusted a light pink from the cold. Though the temperature hardly bothered him, his body didn't really heat up anymore. His mana too preoccupied at keeping himself stable to waste energy on heat.

"Namjoon and Jin went and found your Grandparents—fuck, we even tracked down your Uncle," Taehyung muttered. Jungkook frowned; he had cut all ties with his family when he left. There wasn't one member worse than the other, and they were all just dreadful. But to hear they had managed to track down his salacious, estranged Uncle? That must've come from Namjoon's connections. 

"Hoseok and Yoongi had apparently already searched for you on their own," Taehyung said that strangely—spitefully? And here Jungkook thought they were all lovey-dovey with one another. He had to stifle a snarky remark, but despite all that could've changed with Taehyung, they were still so much alike. And Jungkook knew that if he interjected now, Taehyung might close up and leave. 

"Not even Yugyeom knew where you were." Taehyung pushed through, and unlike the seething stare Jimin had centered around his best friend only a week ago, Taehyung had managed a look of anguish instead. 

Jungkook didn't know where to place that information, the thought of them looking for him. But then why hadn't they just cast a spell? A tracer. Hells, they could've just followed the red soul string connecting them if they had wanted to. It wasn't and never had been impossible to find him. 

Taehyung twisted to face him, steely, determined eyes nearly taking his breath away. "I'm not saying this to guilt you, Jungkook. I just—I want you to know. Know that there wasn't a day you were out there where I wasn't looking for you." There was an unyielding tone to Taehyung's words as if daring Jungkook to disagree. 

"Years we searched the media for any sign of your apprenticeship. But nothing, you were just—gone." Taehyung went on, an almost reminiscing look casting over his gaze. 

Distantly, birds sang, chatting and flitting through the air. Taehyung sighed, scrunching up his face before meeting Jungkooks. "We fucked up!—more than just that—we royally screwed up everything good in our lives." 

Jungkook felt a bubble of protest stuck in his throat because that couldn't be true. It just couldn't. They fucked up, yes. But Jungkook hadn't been that quintessential to their coven; they had moved on without him. How far would they have gone still if he hadn't shown up on orientation day?

As if sensing his straying thoughts, Taehyung reached over and grabbed one of his icy hands. Weakly, Jungkook could still make out the now unfamiliar tingles the touch of a soulmate provided. "Jungkook-ah," Taehyung called out softly. 

"Jungkook, you don't have to forgive us." When had Taehyung garnered the ability to look so vulnerable? Where had the turbulent man of his youth gone? It nearly pained him to look up at Taehyung to meet his soft, pleading features for longer than he already had. 

"Losing you," he began again, looking out onto the lake briefly as the swan swam closer to them before subsequently passing them by. "Was the greatest mistake I ever made." 

The handing holding his squeezed, and Jungkook wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to pull away or not. "I'll be the first to admit it. One year is what I get with you," and for a second Jungkook's heart sank before he realized that the Veils program only lasted so long.  

Suddenly, Taehyung's warm eyes were back on him. "But don't think that I—we won't spend every minute of it trying to make up for those mistakes." 

A silence stretched between them as Jungkook searched Taehyungs face for any integrity, or perhaps anything to promote the opposite. Softly, Taehyung began to chuckle. Letting go of Jungkook's warmed hand to comb his hair back, breathing deeply to relieve the phantom pressure that had settled over the older witch. "Big words, huh?" He mused, trying to lighten the mood. 

"I'll prove it to you, I—"

"Why didn't you just follow our bond?" Jungkook interrupted stubbornly as he looked up at Taehyung. But the pure confusion that met him somewhat derailed him. Taehyung's eyebrows had pulled together as the other now searched his face for signs. 

"What?" The unease settling in his gut made him feel antsy; why did Taehyung look so confused? 

"Jungkook," Taehyung's voice cut through the tension between them. 

"Your soul-string faded away after you left." 

[btschooseafic]

AO3 Recs

Joining of the Last Phoenix by Kirba [completed]

Ot7, ot6 x jungkook, morally gray characters, sugar daddy-esque, royalty, soulmates, soulmate marks, hurt/comfort 

Jungkook finds out he’s soulmates with the six cruel kings.

[nomimits7]

~Happy~

In a world where Auras can be seen, Yoongi lives a peaceful life as a broke, young adult. He attends Uni just so he can get into an internship to escape his current life. What he doesn't know is that six others are looking for him. They want him. They need him and they will have him. Forming a rainbow would give them all the power they could dream of.

Coming soon ~

[the-sixth-planet-from-the-sun]

Whisper of the Heart

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at https://archiveofourown.org/works/60331588

Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS

Relationship:

Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin

Characters:

Jeon Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook's Parents, Jeon Jungkook's Family, Park Jimin (BTS), Park Jimin's Parents (BTS), Park Jimin's Family (BTS), Kim Namjoon | RM, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Min Yoongi | Suga, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Kim Taehyung | V

Additional Tags:

Studio Ghibli, Studio Ghibli References, Drama, Drama & Romance, Family Drama, Friendship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Personal Growth, Slice of Life, Family, Young Love, young adult, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Teen Angst, Romance, Eventual Romance, Lemon, Culture, Mystery, High School, Life Lessons, Mental Health Issues, Dramedy, Adventure & Romance, Happy Ending, Bottom Jeon Jungkook, Top Park Jimin (BTS), Jeon Jungkook-centric, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Fluffy Ending, Soft Jeon Jungkook

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2024-11-05

Completed: 2024-11-14

Chapters: 13/13

SUMMARY

Jeongguk, a bookish teenager with dreams of becoming a writer, decides to read twenty books over the spring in an effort to broaden his horizons and find inspiration. However, something curious begins to happen: every book he checks out from the library has already been read by someone named Park Jimin. Intrigued by the annotations and marks left in the margins, Jeongguk finds himself wondering who this person is — the one who chooses exactly the same books he does. As his readings progress, he realizes that Jimin’s words are more than simple observations; they are reflections that seem to echo his own thoughts. Determined to uncover Park Jimin’s identity, Jeongguk embarks on an unexpected journey filled with mystery and introspection, one that leads him to question what it truly means to connect with another person through words. Will he find Park Jimin? And what will this search reveal about him?

This material may be copyrighted.

[airblushbts]

The coolest insta id will forever be remembered 🫶✌️

[bumblebwii]

BTS X THE WALKING DEAD C3

Jungkook centric! Please read the previous two parts before this one aha :)

6K word count

Summary:

He was left alone for a while, he fell asleep quickly, discarded bits of twine close by to kill off any threats. His dreams were plagued by his parents, by Jimin, by all of those awful kids at school and Jungkook felt weak in his dreams for a while, cowering away from their attacks in the corner, until his tears solidified into a weapon and his sadness solidified into anger and he used it to fuel his thirst for blood, picking them off one by one in a little game of hide and seek. Jungkook won.

CONTENT WARNINGS

depictions of murder, cannibalism, blood, gore, bad people, bad parents and trauma.

Jungkook let out a gentle breath, a long exhale that barely made a noise as he used it to carry away the day’s intensity. Corrupt bosses meant that the company was beginning to crumble and sink, they didn’t care for the little people and that was the first fault in the company’s structure. The company was on its knees and going under; it would take Jungkook down with it if he didn’t get out soon. He was turning twenty two, his birthday was sneaking up on him like a horror movie plot line and he could not help but feel overwhelmed by it. 

The first year of university had been just as bad as his high school friends had prophesied it would be, as bad as Jimin had warned him about, but it had been fun, and had brought him to an oasis in a desert that was shaped like a twenty-three year old Min Yoongi. The boy who had pulled Jungkook out of the lifeless cycle he was sticking himself in. The door of the small house jammed as Jungkook tried to push it open, like it usually did, and Jungkook groaned as he barged it with his shoulder to get it open. His house was a little house share situation, there were six of them in the three bedroom house, two in each room; it was how he and Yoongi got together, they shared the same room and grew inseparable. Their other flatmates were like ghosts and they barely saw each other; it was ideal for the young couple. 

Yoongi was standing at the stove, cooking something that smelled divine and Jungkook could not hold back the smile that spread over his face. “Hi.” Yoongi smiled, stirring something happily, “dinner’s nearly done I’ve just-,” Jungkook shuffled over and wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s waist and let his head rest against Yoongi’s shoulders, it was a back hug sent from heaven after the day from hell that Jungkook had gone through. Yoongi patted Jungkook’s hands lovingly, letting the younger boy simply rest there for a second, “I’ve missed you too. Now, go wash up and get comfy then I’ll bring dinner up to our room, okay?” Jungkook nodded, detaching himself from Yoongi before dragging his body up for a shower. Getting into his pyjamas had always been Jungkook’s favourite part of the day. 

Yoongi came in with their food just as Jungkook was changing and whistled playfully over Jungkook’s half naked, damp appearance and Jungkook stuck his tongue out, “please, I look like a zombie. Work was dreadful and I’m either gonna quit tomorrow or just hold off until I get another job.”

“If this is what zombies are gonna look like then I can’t wait for the apocalypse. If you need to quit then quit, we’ll be alright. I’m working and I can always take on a few more shifts until you can find another job. My parents are happy to help us with shopping money too.” Yoongi reassured him, setting out the food along the floor, they could not afford a little table, then again, the house was too small to fit one, even if they could afford one. “You’re too young to worry about stuff like this, honey. You’ll be grey by twenty seven.”

“I think I’d look sexy with grey hair. At least I’d not have to worry about buying bleach if I wanted to go pink again.”

Yoongi chucked to himself and took a bite of food, watching as Jungkook shimmied on a pair of pyjama bottoms. Life was stressful but it was dinners spent with the love of his life after an awful day that made Jungkook’s heart feel fully content. Jungkook wanted to spend the rest of his life doing this, eating and laughing with Yoongi, watching some sci-fi comedy on their shared laptop, or scrolling through social media and laughing at the memes that shaped the pair’s humour. 

Yoongi was a great cook, although that was to be expected of a culinary student who dreamed of opening his own restaurant. Jungkook supported him all the way, Yoongi’s restaurant would be out of this world. Yoongi was teaching Jungkook to cook, ever patient and caring. He was like that only for Jungkook though, because from talking with Yoongi’s peers, the older boy gives Gordon Ramsey a run for his money. Darling-boy Yoongi with his soft smile and benevolent habits was a terrifying man in the kitchen, he ran a tight ship and had a commanding aura. One that he threw in the bin when it came to Jungkook and he helped Jungkook with anything; piano, cooking, building, budgeting, all of it rolled with gentle chuckles and careful, wonderful hands.

Their food had long been finished, crusted onto the plates before Jungkook huffed out a little squeeze of air and took them into the kitchen to be washed. It was no surprise when Yoongi trailed after Jungkook with a small blurt of information about the show and actors they were watching. It was a little habit of Yoongi’s to know the who, what, where and when’s of films and series and Jungkook could listen to the man talk for hours, which Yoongi often did, little tangents here and there about whatever thoughts Yoongi had cropped up mid sentence. Yoongi could be a whirlwind when he felt comfortable enough with you; a little goofball and Jungkook’s beaming ray of sunshine.

Love felt good to Jungkook, like sitting on the world’s comfiest settee after being on your feet for hours, like submerging yourself in a pool of perfectly cold water on those humid summer days. Yoongi had quickly become an important cog in Jungkook’s life, he had crept in and captured Jungkook’s innocent heart in a short span of half a year and Yoongi had pulled Jungkook up into feeling like a functional member of society after a lifetime of feeling like an outcast in his own home.

“Jimin-ah called me earlier, Jungkook.” Yoongi said softly, a wary tone sewing itself into Yoongi’s voice. Jungkook and Jimin had a weird relationship to say the least. Jungkook both loved and hated his older brother for being the only person before Yoongi to actually give half a shit about Jungkook, but Jungkook also hated Jimin for being the poster child for everything in their parent’s eyes and unintentionally being the reason for all of Jungkook’s anguish. Jimin was the sweetest person alive, so full of love and grace and all things lovely, always had been, he had been graced with perfect features, perfect nature, perfect everything. That’s something their parent’s would rub in like some lemon and salt concoction onto a gaping wound as they pointed out all of the features Jungkook still needed to grow into or change; the nature he needed to alter. It drove Jungkook crazy.

Jungkook nodded gently and smiled tightly, “oh.” He took a sip of his drink and Yoongi let out a slow sigh. 

“He was asking all about you.” Yoongi and Jimin were close friends, quickly forming a bond that Jungkook was both endeared and apprehensive about. They would talk often, much more often than Jungkook and Jimin would. “He misses you, Jk. He wants you to call at some point so that you can decide when to have that coffee with him like you promised.”

“Ugh, he never forgets anything. That was an empty promise. I don’t even like coffee.” Jungkook huffed into his glass like he did not want Yoongi to hear and scold him.

“He loves you. You forget that.” Yoongi said lightly with a disapproving shake of his head, “so call him and go buy a smoothie instead. Anyway, he called to tell you that your parents are coming tomorrow at noon and they’re taking us to lunch.”

Jungkook chugged the rest of his drink and groaned loudly. There was no escaping his parents grilling him half to death tomorrow at lunch. Jimin most definitely will be there too, gleaming and innocently stomping Jungkook into the asphalt. “I honestly think that being shot in the leg would be far less painful than sitting around a dinner table with my family.”

—

When Jungkook awoke, it was to the feeling of cold metal against his chest and a dead feeling in his limbs, “fuck.” He mumbled, voice clogged with sleep.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would have said that was attractive.” Taehyung sighed, pinching Jungkook’s face in between his fingers and thumb, moving Jungkook’s face side to side and checking Jungkook’s pupil reaction. “I remember you that day. You saved me. Us. Thank you.” Taehyung said, “it’s a shame you turned out like this. We could’ve been great friends, your brother is the greatest.”

It was a knee-jerk reaction to let out an annoyed snarl of a sound, old cauterised wounds reopening at the remark about the two brothers, a constant thorn in Jungkook’s childhood of everyone preferring Jimin to him, of their parents asking Jungkook why he could not be more like their oldest son. 

“Hit a nerve, did we?” Taehyung laughed softly, “Yoongi’s told me all about your little childhood trauma and as someone who took a great liking to neurology, I can’t help but see why you’re the way that you are.” Taehyung had a sweetness about him, but it was boxed away and hidden away beneath a mound of post-apocalyptic ice-heartedness. “Jimin wants to see you.” Taehyung said and cut some of the twine to free Jungkook up a little bit, pulling him into a wheelchair. “You can try to run, but I’ll put a bullet in your other leg and leave it there.” He offered as he pushed Jungkook out of the cell and into another one, They were on a top floor, the stairs not too far away, Jungkook’s leg was in agony, he chose to hold off on the running, it was in his best interest to stay in the wheelchair for now. He’ll run when he’s more healed and better equipped. 

Jimin’s cell was glowing with the light of a yellow-bulb lamp and Jungkook scoffed quietly, typical, it was alive with gentle murmurs and his older brother’s light laughter. “Googie!” Jimin smiled, leaning out of his bed to hug Jungkook, swatting away Namjoon’s worrying hands before engulfing Jungkook in a tight hug. “You’re okay!” There were tears in his voice and Jungkook tried not to shove the other brother away, he tried to collect the good memories together just so he didn’t cause more harm than good; Jungkook took a deep breath. 

“Jimin.” Jungkook patted his back. When Jimin pulled away from the hug, he held Jungkook’s face in his hands and inspected him closely. Jungkook found it infuriating how light and baby-faced Jimin still looked. The apocalypse had taken no physical toll on his older brother, he was still as gorgeous and perfect as ever and their parents would be proud, boastful. The apocalypse had not been so kind to Jungkook, who developed scars and sharper, uninviting features; his skin wrinkled in certain places and in the quick reflections he caught of himself, Jungkook looked old, older than he truly was. Thankfully though, no grey hair.  

“Thirty four looks good on you little bro!” Jimin smiled, it was odd, as if they weren’t surviving an apocalypse, as if Jungkook had immigrated somewhere far for a few years. As if Jungkook had not nearly killed Jimin and felt no remorse in doing so.

“Does it?” Jungkook asked, eyebrow raised, “I would say thirty eight looks good on you, but I’d be a liar. You look half dead. Or maybe a quarter dead would be more fitting considering our current society.” Jungkook shrugged, half a dead laugh edging at his lips.

“Oh, come on, he looks fine, even you can see that!” Taehyung huffed, pushing all of Jungkook’s buttons, “couldn’t even tell you almost died, Jimin.” Taehyung lightly hit Jungkook’s shoulder and Jungkook glared up at him. “You should compliment your brother, it's the least you could do. He looks far better than you do and we only took the bullet from your leg.”

Jimin mumbled something that Jungkook did not bother to listen to and he pushed himself up off the wheelchair, he was much taller than Taehyung, who honestly was so beautiful Jungkook felt bad for cursing him mentally. Taehyung looked tired and prematurely aged by his profession, but he managed to pull it off and look like he had never faced a day of trauma in his life. Jungkook hated it, hated him. Everyone in the cell rose to alert at Jungkook standing, ready to shoot to kill, but Jungkook rolled his eyes and limped away, ignoring whatever they were saying to him and he shut the door to his cell and laid on the top bunk.

He was left alone for a while, he fell asleep quickly, discarded bits of twine close by to kill off any threats. His dreams were plagued by his parents, by Jimin, by all of those awful kids at school and Jungkook felt weak in his dreams for a while, cowering away from their attacks in the corner, until his tears solidified into a weapon and his sadness solidified into anger and he used it to fuel his thirst for blood, picking them off one by one in a little game of hide and seek. Jungkook won.

Jungkook awoke naturally to an unnatural atmosphere. It was silent, deadly so. He got down from the top bunk clumsily on the count of his damaged thigh and observed the open cell door and wondered if this was a test where he would be shot the moment he dared darken the threshold with his feet. He stared at it for a while until the sound of quiet cries stole his attention, Jimin was in floods of tears, tied to the bed much like Jungkook had been and the older one of the pair looked at Jungkook with wide, pleading eyes.

“You’re awake! Untie me.” Jungkook stayed unmoving and he continued to watch his brother. He could kill him. “Please, Jungkook. This is important! They went to go and talk with these people who we’ve been having trouble with and it’s gone quiet. I need to go.” Jungkook nodded once and walked towards his older brother, who watched him with a hopeful gleam, puppy-dog eyes that lured most people in and tricked them into giving Jimin all that he demanded. Not Jungkook. 

He leaned in closer to Jimin and placed one final kiss to the forehead. It was a venture that soothed the inner part of himself that rejoiced in his brother’s survival, it entertained the scattered part of himself that he was tricking his brother and kissing him goodbye to either let him starve or become some other fucked up person’s toy for a while, it lessened his sane-self’s unwillingness to procrastinate death and made him want to live more alongside his only living friend and brother.

“Fuck it.” Jungkook huffed and ran over the threshold. Still not dead. Jimin was smarter than to make a ruckus, there were outsiders here and shouting would only lead them to where he is incapacitated. Jungkook took a little stroll through the block, taking his weapons back. Guns. Knife. Bat. Crossbow. The crossbow had been a little treat for himself from one of the rooms and it hung over his shoulders and across his chest like it was some festival bag. 

Walking up to what used to be some sort of communal room, Jungkook did not anticipate hearing familiar voices, assuming everyone would be dead. He approached silently and waited in the dark doorway, unseen, unheard, armed. It was a circular room with two floors, donut-shaped top floor that allowed a circle of dim light in the centre bottom floor and almost pitch shadows, perfect shadows for hiding, around the edge beneath the flooring of the top floor. He watched on as Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi tried to bargain the survival of Seokjin and Taehyung, who had been grabbed by two ugly, beer-bellied men looking to get their dicks sucked and blood thirst quenched. Jungkook ate these kinds of people; did not even bother in hearing them out. What surprised Jungkook, however, were the two girls and a nimble looking boy sneaking around the shadows, knives ready to attack the three in the middle, unseen, unheard. Fun. A level playing field.

This little band of six were his to kill and his only. Jungkook was a possessive man. Sue him.

Jungkook took a calculated step into the shadows, the smallest girl, early twenties, was closest and henceforth, Jungkook’s first victim. He had perfected silent killings, the apocalypse called for silence and Jungkook steeled himself to be at her almighty, beaconing call. He grabbed her quickly and pushed the knife into the base of her jaw below the ear and pulled quickly across before jabbing it into the base of her skull so that she did not turn, then he lowered her to the floor with ease, despite the hot blood that cascaded over his hands. Jungkook missed that feeling, someone else’s blood coating his hand, another last breath stolen by his god-awful presence. 

The boy was next, running right into Jungkook’s little trap and finding himself slaughtered like the first girl, bleeding and dead on the floor, Jungkook loved the sight of blood, loved the feeling of stepping in the viscous, sticky liquid, but right now, Jungkook had to avoid it because sticky boots were noisy and Jungkook needed to stay unheard. The third girl was unaware of the fate of her companions, so did not bat an eyelid when someone stood behind her as she readied herself to attack, motioning something that must have meant something to the dead ones. Her attack would never happen though as Jungkook beat her to it, acting quickly and uncaring, he cut her throat and her brain stem and dropped her to the floor. 

Whoever these men were, they were foolish. It was three of them, slow and fat and they stunk of rancid body odour. Jungkook hated body odour. He hated people like this, who did things without poise and common sense. What Jungkook hated the most, however, was the bargaining, the talking, dragging this whole thing out by its old, wrinkly balls; these were the creeps that had been causing their little group of six problems? Pathetic. Kill first, think later. Realistically, Jungkook knew there could possibly be more than the sorry saps that just so happened to be present and dying today and that their deaths could cause some reality tv drama Jungkook was too disconnected to truly care about, but if Jungkook was going to exploit and farm these people for his own greedy benefit, then he wanted them to at least go down with a little bit of a fight and preparation. Jungkook wanted it to be fun; so he’d guide them, teach them how to have apocalyptic brains, rather than diplomatic brains, herd them right into their own pens and then the moment it all clicks together for them, it’s too late. Just the thought of it makes Jungkook’s fucked little mind feel some kind of satisfaction.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, we can work together. There’s safety in numbers.” Namjoon spoke loudly and Jungkook held everything he possibly could in just to keep himself from gagging. Idiot. There was so much potential for serious danger in bigger numbers. Plus, it was such a cliche move, the peaceful, rough around the edges leader just trying to restart the world one little piece at a time. 

Jungkook raised his crossbow, new and shiny; something he could experiment with quietly and took aim at the man standing with Seokjin in his arms, the tall surgeon had been forced awkwardly to his knees and held by the head against the man’s protruding stomach, his filthy, stained hand against Seokjin’s mouth and Jungkook dreaded knowing what it smelled like. Shit, probably. 

The release of the crossbow whistled with a satisfying speed and lodged itself into the inner corner of the man’s right eye and through the back of his nose’s bridge and out the other side of his temple. “Nice.” Jungkook smiled to himself before turning the crossbow to the other man holding a very alarmed Taehyung and released the arrow, this one jammed into the hinge of the man’s jaw and disappeared into his head somewhere. The two surgeons let out screams of horror and Jungkook rolled his eyes. You’re welcome. 

Namjoon and Hoseok jumped forward and grabbed for them to return to safety, looking around for whoever had killed the two oafs. Jungkook slung the crossbow back over his shoulder with a huff and watched for a moment as the final remaining pig of a man - an insult to pigs, Jungkook thought - looked around for the attacker and called for the three, very dead, hidden ones to come out. It was pathetic really, sad and pathetic to watch him grasp at nothing. They were standing right by the northern end of the light area

“Show yourself! Who are you?” Namjoon spat and Jungkook turned his glare to the leader. Idiot.

“All this diplomatic talking shit is gonna get you killed, dickhead.” Jungkook said harshly. “Whilst you were trading peace talks, this fucker had three toddlers getting ready to rock your shit and that’s only fun when I’m the one doing the rocking. Trust me.” Jungkook walked silently so that he was in the shadows right behind the guy. “What happened to the guy who shot me before actually checking for bites?” Jungkook laughed, cocking his gun, “what, my brother let you get your dick wet and you change your morals for killing his little brother?” Jungkook almost laughed at the feeling of the gun almost against the guy’s head. He was slipping, quickly.

“Jk-ah that’s-,” Yoongi started but was cut off by the oaf grabbing his hair and holding Yoongi right beside his head. There was something inside of Jungkook’s head that appeared like the conscience did in cartoons, screaming and begging for Jungkook to save the only man that had always made sure to keep Jungkook safe and loved, that part made Jungkook angry and defensive over Yoongi and someone grabbing at his first and only love. There was another angry voice in Jungkook’s head that reminded him that this was the end of the world, their old lives no longer mattered, Yoongi no longer mattered; Jungkook wanted to kill him anyway, get revenge for being abandoned in that alleyway after risking his life to save them.

Jungkook watched in annoyance as the man stumbled and fumbled for safety with a feisty Yoongi fighting to get out of his arms.

“I got your brother. Kill me and I’ll kill him. I just want the pretty doctors. They’re useful in more than one way.” He was waving a knife around, threatening the wrong side of the shadows. 

“That’s not my brother, that’s my husband. Grabbing him is worse than my brother. I need the doctors. You can’t have them.” Jungkook took silent steps toward the man, gun in hand and murder on his mind, and he pulled the trigger without a second thought. The man’s head threw itself in the direction of the bullet and his brain matter painted Yoongi and his body slumped like a sack of potatoes. The gunshot made Jungkook’s ears ring as the sound of it bounced around the room in awful echos and Yoongi catapulted himself out of the dead-man’s grip and towards Hoseok, who pulled Yoongi in with a worried kiss to the top of his head; something about it did not sit right in Jungkook’s stomach, but the adrenaline of the killing was still pumping through him and he could not concentrate on it for too long. Too many voices ringing in his head.

Jungkook’s tongue poked the sides of his cheek and he grabbed at the ankles of the dead man in front of him, pulling him along the floor so that Jungkook could begin to prepare their meat to use. He needed food and lots of it after the ordeal of the past few days. There was a big pool of blood spilling out from the men with arrows in their head and Jungkook only smiled to himself as he pulled the arrows free and watched as the blood splashed at his feet. He stomped his foot lightly in the puddle like a child and then purposefully stomped it on a dry patch, leaning down to messily write ‘Jeon Jungkook. Still not dead.’ Beside his boot print in the semi-warm liquid with his finger. He grabbed at another one of the men and began pulling them toward the open space, a chopping line, with shallow huffs.

“What’re you doing? We put the dead bodies outside.” Seokjin said quietly, shaken up by what had happened and probably half deafened by the gunshot.

“You shouldn’t have killed them. I had it handled.” Namjoon spat, turning to glare at Jungkook, who dropped the body to laugh heartily at Namjoon.

“Handled. Sure. Not how I would have put it, but if that’s what helps you sleep at night.” Jungkook moved onto the next one, huffing, “I just saved your behinds.” Once he had successfully moved all six bodies into the open space and stripped them of their clothes, he took the large axe that one of the dead had dropped and Jungkook twirled it in his hands; he took a moment to admire the blade.

“They were kids!” Namjoon yelled at Jungkook, “how do you have no remorse - no, how the fuck do you kill with no question, it’s-, what are you doing?!” The leader startled as Jungkook brought the axe into position and brought it down onto a shoulder joint with a thunk; someone to the left gagged at the pop of the joint as Jungkook grabbed the limp hand and twisted it with a ruthless pull and it jaggedly came away at the opening.

“Dismembering a body, what does it look like I’m doing?” Jungkook scoffed, bringing the axe down again on the other shoulder joint before he picked the large arm up, the tendons and strings of muscle and veins reached out in a ghostly attempt to pull the limb back together. “Oh, gross.” Jungkook laughed boyishly and it was accompanied by someone retching loudly and vomit splashing onto the floor. “As for those ‘kids’ you speak of, Namjoon-ssi, they were gonna get you before you could talk your way out of it and you would have had no idea about it. We’re at the end of the world, wake up. Kill or be killed; there’s nothing to think about.”

Blood kissed at Jungkook’s cheeks and the surrounding area as he started hacking at more limbs. They shot at him first, how could they be high and mighty about compassion and letting people live. Jeongguk scoffed to himself, pulling more and more limbs into a little pile. He was willing to share, there was a lot of meat here; a lot of organs to burn and bones to whittle at. 

Yoongi straightened himself out from his vomiting, each of them somewhat transfixed in horror and unable to look away. “Jungkook-ah, why are you- why, just why?”

It was a loaded question and Jungkook thought for a moment, he was a ticking time bomb and deadly, but he refused to be stupid or walked over. “Gotta survive somehow. I told you all, I’ve had to figure out the best uses for bodies.” Jungkook said slowly, bringing the axe down onto a blood stained neck “It was sunshine and rainbows for you lot, being in a group from the beginning, you’re all in it for each other. Outsiders, as you can see, have ulterior motives. Dangerous.” Everyone listened closely, silently horrified and getting semi-answers they’ve all wanted to ask, “You have to go insane to stay sane, but when someone’s ‘sane’ is a superiority complex, the normal people have to get the upper hand if you want to survive, which naturally - Taehyung will vouch for this with his brain stuff - humans have survival instincts that go haywire in dire situations.” 

Jungkook leaned down to pick up the head of the person, looking at it for a moment in it’s greying, ugly glory, half open eyes and blueish lips, hollow cheeks from lack of food and deep, deep bags.

“Survival instincts of other people, animals, viruses and plants will be the reason you die in an apocalypse. That and lack of resources. People are deadly.”

“Are you deadly?” Hoseok dared ask. “You must be to make it this far alone.”

“Yah, Jung Hoseok, are you missing the part where he just silently assassinated six people and is now dismembering their corpses?!” Seokjin snapped, glaring up at Hoseok from where he was sprawled on the floor, “obviously he’s deadly.”

“Are you a threat?” Namjoon challenged, arms crossed and eyes flickering over the dead bodies, to Yoongi, then back to Jungkook. Yoongi looked several ways devastated, a little green in colour and he was doing all he could to not look at Jungkook.

“Push my buttons like you did last night with that bullet wound and I might be.” Jungkook shrugged, the head still in his hand, blood dripping from the slice quickly into a large puddle at Jungkook’s feet, “so much blood in such a tiny person.” He marvelled softly, before throwing the head toward Taehyung who squealed in surprise, “a brain for you to look at and poke.” Jungkook laughed heartily, the sound only growing when Taehyung picked the head up and kicked it away from himself like a football.

“So you-,”

“Do you know how hard it is to survive alone?” Jungkook asked, mood switching quickly and the others seemed to notice the darkness in his voice because even Seokjin sat up to look at him. “Forget the walkers and the adults being dangers to your very existence, but to be that hungry, that alone, to see literal children die or fight or beg for food you could never give them?” Jungkook glared at Namjoon, the direct cause of his anguish, “do you know how soul destroying it is to put a six year old out of their misery? Or to ignore their cries to help them because you can barely keep yourself alive, adding another the mix is asking for something bad to happen.” 

Jungkook looked over at Yoongi, who had begun crying, mumbling that he couldn’t stomach listening to more. He needed to hear more.

“You said to me, Yoongi, I’d understand if I’d been through what you guys had, so you’re gonna understand what I’ve had to go through and then I can hear what you’ve had to fucking go through.” Jungkook hissed, “because I am not going to be this nasty little villain for surviving; I will not let any of you sit there and pity me or look down on me just because I’ve had to change because all six of you left me for dead.”

“I went back!” Yoongi hollered, crying and shaking, “I went back! It took all five of them to pull me away from you. You were so fucking still and covered in blood and we thought you were bitten and-,”

“I already told you, I don’t want to fucking hear it! Too little too late.” Jungkook shouted back, axe pointed toward Yoongi, “not a force on earth would have pulled me away from you! I certainly wouldn’t have just left you to fucking turn!”

“And you think I was in any fit state to put a knife in your head or let one of them do it?! I loved you more than life itself, you were the only thing that ever pulled me through life, especially after my parents died!” Yoongi slammed his hand on the table in frustration, “you still had a pulse and I had plans to come and rescue you but you had gone when I got there!”

Jungkook turned away from Yoongi, “whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore, the damage has already been done.”

Jungkook heard the clunk of Yoongi’s boots along the floor, away from him, “stop blaming me for leaving when you left first. Playing the hero when you were nothing but an idiot who had no idea what the new world was. Seriously, what did you expect Namjoon to do after you ran head first into a hoard of zombies, Jungkook?!”

Jungkook brought the axe down hard onto the hip joint, slicing it clean off with a shout of fury. “You’re supposed to check! You were supposed to see if I was okay before shooting me! You were supposed to pull me out of the fucking rubble and wait to see if I was coming to! I saved your lives and you tried to kill me.” Jungkook swung the axe down again, “there were two fucking doctors present!” Jungkook shouted, throwing the axe down to use his bat to smash the skulls of the dead, watching them cave in like rotten pumpkins, taking in deep lungfuls of the stench their blood and brains gave off. He took one last swing before he steeled his emotions and threw his bat down and stretched. “Hoseok-ssi.” Jungkook said quietly, “take these and put them wherever you store your food, I’ll finish sorting the rest out.” He pointed at the limbs to his left.

“F-food?” Hoseok asked, leaning down to grab the limbs.

“Yes, food. Gotta eat something.” Jungkook frowned, “Seokjin-ssi. Go and get a bucket or something to put the organs in. Taehyung. Do what you want with the heads, look at the brain and try to find a cure, throw them away, use them for football, I don’t really give a shit.” Jungkook puffed out a little bit of air. “Namjoon-ssi, Yoongi-ssi, take their bags and clothes and sort through them into what’s needed and what can be burned or thrown.”

Nobody really gave any objections, but everyone moved with slow and confused movements, unsure if Jungkook was serious or not. “Food.” Hoseok said disgruntled and visibly disgusted. “They’re humans.” He was talking to himself, subtly addressing Jungkook but attempting to avoid confrontation. 

“Like I said, flying solo is hard. Gotta eat whatever you can get your hands on.” Jungkook shrugged, examining what he had cut off. “I’d much rather eat cake or a salad but it’s tough shit. There’s a lot of you, surely food is hard to share sufficiently?” Jungkook turned to a pale looking Namjoon. 

“We adapt.”

“That’s…” Jungkook scratched his stomach, his shirt coming up over his hand. “So you’re all used to eating like... snakes?”

“That’s not what I said. We adapt. Took the ‘sane’ route and went hunting animals, not people. That’s twisted.”

“Oh so you’re used to eating snakes, not like them.” Jungkook laughed to himself and lugged up a torso, “more for me I guess. Where do I store this? Show me.”

Hoseok nodded and scurried out in front. Jungkook thought fleetingly that he should probably mention that Jimin was freaking out and probably tearing his stitching but he chose not to say anything. They’d find him eventually. 

Hoseok was talking about something rather animatedly; Jungkook had never paid attention to what he was saying, he did not care enough but he thought that had their paths crossed in their lives before, the pair would have been inseparable. Hoseok gave off that sort of energy. Jungkook hated it. Nobody should be like that through the end of the world. 

Jungkook stopped walking as he stood beside a door that read ‘infirmary’ on a faded sign and then underneath, in some kind of paint, read ‘dead inside’ and he huffed out an eye roll and turned to Hoseok, who was still blabbering on. “Aye, has anyone looked behind the relatable door?”

“Oh, uh, no. We looked through the windows on the outside and it’s like sardines in there. Seems like everyone went to the doctor with the flu.” Hoseok motioned horizontally across his neck with a flattened hand and a grimace, “Seokjin hyung said that any medical stuff in there will be redundant because it’s all infected with blood and gunk and stuff, so we all voted to save our resources and leave it.” 

“How stupid.” Jungkook scoffed. Medical supplies were vital, even if it was just one small thing, it was needed.

“Come off your high horse. We’ve raided about fourteen different pharmacies and everyone’s medicine cabinet. Your brother remembers his way around.” Jungkook side eyed Hoseok, who was readjusting the limbs in his arms. There was a switch in his demeanour, like the atmosphere around him had fallen from soft shades of purple to the separated elements of pink, red and blue. “There’s also more than one infirmary in places like this, we’re not completely hopeless. You forget that we’ve also had to do shit to survive. It’s not been some kind of peaceful journey, don’t forget that. We know danger when we see it and we are not afraid to do what it takes to stay safe.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Guess we shall have to wait and see.” Hoseok huffed and came to a stop in front of an old freezer. He heaved it open and stood proudly before the open space and that switch had been tampered with again, “jajang!” He cheered sweetly, “a solar powered freezer, courtesy of Namjoon’s sexy brain. Wanna know how he did it?” The man looked as hopeful and excited as Jungkook get about shutting him down and the fact made Jungkook mentally laugh; he remained stoic and silent as he regarded Hoseok. 

“No. I’d rather stick my own fingers in my bullet wound again.” Jungkook neatly placed his meat pieces in there and then turned away so that he could fetch the remaining pieces. 

He entered the canteen area again, Hoseok stropily following behind. “What the fuck are you all on?! My Jungkookie wouldn’t do that!” Jimin’s frustrated voice echoed through the room and Namjoon’s deeper, calmer yet stressed voice followed.

“Hey, calm down, you’re gonna pull your stitches. He can explain.” Namjoon pointed to Jungkook, who looked between them both and shrugged. 

“Probably could but I don’t want to so I won’t.” Jungkook shrugged and heaved up some more body pieces, there was a twinge of pain in his leg but he did his best to not address it. No weaknesses. “Did you get me a bucket, Seokjin? They burn better when they’re fresh.”

“Told you, Minnie. Your little bro is a few tools short of a whole toolbox.” Taehyung muttered to Jimin and Jungkook halted in his movements, dropping the body parts like they were hot and he turned to Taehyung with a nasty glare.

“You’re really getting on my last fucking nerve.” Taehyung looked unphased, entertained if anything, he was doing this on purpose; Taehyung would be the crack in the floor of Jungkook’s plans. Taehyung was a neurologist, he knew all the ways he could manipulate someone’s brain. Jungkook would have to take their trust in him first. “I’m trying to help you, I just saved you, I’m not trying to make enemies with any of you.” Jungkook lied, pointing an accusing finger at Taehyung, “but you’re really testing my patience, Taehyung. Stop running to my brother like some child trying to ‘tell on me’ it’s pathetic.”

“Koo, lets just ca-,”

Jungkook turned his glare to Jimin and his brother went quiet. “Tell me to calm down Jimin, I dare you.”

“Hey, one of those kids had an Iphone in their bag! It works and everything! Oh, JK, they even have your favourite song!” Yoongi cheered, walking into the tense atmosphere obliviously, the beginning trill of a song Jungkook had only dreamed of hearing again and he soothed instantly. Yoongi was semi-cleaner, no more smatterings of brain.

Hoseok burst into small twinklings of laughter, “you listened to Mang?”

“Seokie, he had the biggest crush on this guy and he had never even seen whoever it is-, was-, whatever.” Yoongi chuckled and cuddled up to Hoseok, showing him the phone. There was that twist in Jungkook’s heart again at seeing Yoongi so close, so soft with someone else, but he ignored it and huffed his way over to the body parts and lugged them back up and limped away.

“Go back to bed, Jimin. Stop following me.”

“Jeon Jungkook.” Jimin was firm and tearful. It was just them in the hallway. “You’re different. Where’s my Jungkook? There’s no spark in your eyes anymore.”

Jungkook huffed and stopped for a minute, “I’m sorry that not everyone can be as untouchable as you. Get over it. People change, life goes on.”

“But this is a scary change. You’re the thing they fear. Tread carefully because they shoot to kill and I can’t lose you twice.”

[pinkifytheworld]

Jungkook Centric Fics for the soul. :D

Jungkook is always moving, always changing, always doing something different. He’s going through the motions of life, one journey playing in his memory box at a time.

STATUS:Completed

Jungkook was alive only to feed the nightwalkers. That was all he was born to be and he had long accepted that.

The new coven he is assigned to feed makes him wonder if he could possibly be more than just a meal.

STATUS:on going

Heart for more.

[hisunshiine]

hisunshiine masterlist (new and improved)

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2019-2024. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

↣ last updated:  11/16/2024 @ 3:00 PM EST

     ↳ 2024 story updates:

❀ —eternal reign | knj (m) posted 10.30.2024

vampire king!namjoon x concubine!reader — vampire au, s2l

❀ —immortal lust | myg (m) posted 6.3.2024

vampire!yoongi x vampire hunter!reader — vampire au, e2l

❀ —revelations under the moon | knj (m) posted 2.15.2024

alpha!namjoon x omega!reader — ABO au, fated mates au

↳ All of my fics written in 2023 can be found HERE

↳ All of my fics written in 2022 can be found HERE

   ↳ All of my fics written in 2021 (i think) can be found HERE

↣ author’s note: 11.16.24

↳ it is almost thanksgiving break, and I will have a glorious week to spend working on my own fics! and then soon after winter break! I cannot wait. I had to pause a bit because of course, i am taking my last class for this certification and working in a school in my capacity is ever so draining, but i need writing to survive it all and it's what i look forward to so i can get through the work day. i appreciate all of you who have stuck by me, and as always thank you all for reading!   bts members newest stories may not be under their name, but will be listed above! i typically try and update the members lists (below) when I can, but usually aim for the end of each year!  

Below are member masterlists. I am working on updating them when I can, and some have desktop versions but all have mobile versions. Desktop version is the "Pretty" version (just means I wanted to try a cool theme) and is best viewed on desktop!

BTS — series that include every member; most are 7-shot and each member has their own storyline in the same AU and all members are seen in an intertwining plot. Some are 1 member centric but all members are vital to the plot of the story, just might not have the MC love interest.

Kim Namjoon *pretty ver.

Kim Namjoon *mobile ver.

Kim Seokjin * pretty ver.

Kim Seokjin * easy ver.

Min Yoongi * pretty ver.

Min Yoongi * easy ver.

Jung Hoseok 

Park Jimin 

Kim Taehyung 

Jeon Jungkook  

old masterlist link

[bangtanwritershq]

BangtanWritersHQ Presents: “Golden Works of Art" Masterlist

For November 2023, we assembled a masterlist collection of fics to showcase the number 7 for Bangtan and Jeon Jungkook, and the release of Golden, Jungkook’s first album! There are many different AUs, genres, and pairings featured! So, if you're in the mood for all things SEVEN & GOLDEN, this masterlist is for you! Note: All fics are OVER 7k in length, and many feature Jungkook as their focal point but are not limited to being Jungkook-centric

Browse at your leisure and ENJOY!

KEY:

🔞 - nsfw (mature themes) ✅ - sfw (no warnings) 💖 - smut ⚠️ - other warnings

SET UP - emojis: Title (if link is to another platform) | Author [parts] pairings, genre/aus, rating, word count

🔞💖⚠️ Promises, Promises (Ao3) | @downbad4yoongi [1/1] Pairing: Jimin x Jeongguk AU Type: Mail Order Husband, S2L | fluff, angst, mild smut Rating: MA WC: 11,280

🔞💖⚠️ Make You Mine | @colormepurplex2 [2/2] Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader AU Type: A/B/O, E2L | angst, smut Rating: MA WC: 11,231

🔞💖⚠️ Lights, Camera, Action | @colormepurplex2 [3/3] Pairing: Actor!Jungkook x Artist!Reader (ft. Director!Namjoon x Artist!Reader) AU Type: Poly/3way Relationship, Coworkers/Strangers to Lovers | smut, fluff Rating: MA WC: 22,484

🔞💖⚠️ Slow and Steady | @yoonia [1/1] Pairing: Jungkook x female reader/Jungkook x female OC AU Type: Art | smut, angst Rating: MA WC: 7,137

🔞💖⚠️ Mirrors: What Becomes of Us | @yoonia [1/1] Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader AU Type: Friends w/Benefits to Lovers | smut, angst Rating: MA WC: 8,454

🔞💖⚠️ In Motion | @yoonia [14/14] Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader AU Type: Sex Club | smut Rating: MA WC: 175,587

🔞💖⚠️ Song of You | @bethschamberoftales [1/1] Pairing: Jungkook x Reader AU Type: 1930-40s Romance | smut, angst, fluff Rating: MA WC: 8k

🔞💖⚠️ Let Me Heal You | @bethschamberoftales [1/1] Pairing: ex!bf Jungkook x reader x lawyer! Taehyung AU Type: Coming of Age, Infidelity, Crime, Thriller | angst, smut, fluff Rating: MA WC: 26k

🔞💖⚠️ I Put A Spell On You | @colormepurplex2 [2/2] Pairing: Demon!Jimin x Witch!f.Reader x Vampire!Jungkook AU Type: Demon/Witch/Vampire Halloween | angst, smut Rating: MA WC: 9,257

🔞💖⚠️ Chasing Shadows | @colormepurplex2 [4/4] Pairing: Sherlock!Jungkook x Journalist!f.Reader AU Type: Modern Day Sherlock Holmes | angst, smut, fluff Rating: MA WC: 21,511

🔞💖⚠️ Flowers of Fate | @colormepurplex2 [4/4] Pairing: UnseeliePrince!Yoongi x Human!f.Reader (ft. x UnseelieGuard!Jungkook x SeeliePrince!Jimin x WoodNymph!Namjoon) AU Type: Strangers to Bonded Mates | angst, smut, fluff Rating: MA WC: 56,072

🔞💖⚠️ On Wings of Mist & Memories | @colormepurplex2 [3/3] Pairing: DragonRider!Jungkook x FieldScribe!f.Reader AU Type: Enemies to Lovers, Exiled Royalty, Fantasy | angst, smut, fluff Rating: MA WC: 39,753

🔞💖⚠️ Seeds | @downbad4yoongi [1/1] Pairing: Persephone!Yoongi x Hades!Hoseok AU Type: Modern Greek Mythology, Strangers to Lovers, Mafia | angst, smut Rating: MA WC: 7,902

🔞💖⚠️ Lifeline | @downbad4yoongi [1/1] Pairing: Namjoon x Reader AU Type: First Responder | smut, light fluff Rating: MA WC: 7,157

🔞💖⚠️ The Agile Fox | @yoonia [1/1] Pairing: Jungkook x OC (named female character) x Yoongi AU Type: Shifters, Werewolf | fluff, angst, smut Rating: MA WC: 51,966

🔞💖⚠️ Bad For You | @yoonia [1/1] Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader AU Type: Stripper | smut, angst Rating: MA WC: 11,340

🔞💖⚠️ To All The Men I’ve Fucked Before | @hisunshiine [1/1] Pairing: Jungkook x Reader AU Type: tatbilb!au fake dating!au | angst, smut, fluff Rating: MA WC: 30,586

🔞💖 Laundry Love | @hisunshiine [1/1] Pairing: Jungkook x Reader AU Type: s2l, non-idol au | smut, fluff Rating: MA WC: 9,983

🔞💖⚠️ Bangtan Scouts | @hisunshiine [20/20] Pairing: Jungkook x Reader AU Type: sailor moon au | angst, smut, fluff Rating: MA WC: 48,937

🔞💖⚠️ College Nights, Diner Fights | @hisunshiine [1/1] Pairing: Jungkook x Reader AU Type: e2l, diner au, college au | angst, smut, fluff Rating: MA WC: 9,841

🔞💖⚠️ Seven Days | @hisunshiine [7/7] Pairing: Jungkook x Reader AU Type: f2l au, fwb au | angst, smut, fluff Rating: MA WC: 34,607

All stories copywritten of the specified author. The authors provided consent for their stories to the network to be shared by submitting their stories. Stories posted in the order of submission to the event.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Semantic Error | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter 3

Based off of Semantic Error (bl) by J Soori Summary: y/n meets Jimin and makes Jungkook jealous Pairing: Techie inexperienced fem!reader x Artist fuck boy Jungkook Word count: 2.7k~ Warnings: Explicit language, Idk that's pretty much it for this chapter. A/N: This is heavily based off of the original bl (boy love) Semantic Error and it covers chapters (episodes) 4,5 and 29. I've switched around the timeline quite a bit and got rid of some scenes here and there to make the story progress a bit faster so they're not exactly alike but I would like to stick close to the original story so let me know what you think! P.s. If you don't mind spoilers I would highly suggest reading the original story. I read it on the app Manta with the english adaptation being done by Angy and you can also find the Kdrama on Viki :) Read from the beginning

The next day as I'm walking to the cafeteria I see a guy fall dropping some books and papers all over the floor. I decide to walk past because honestly it's not my problem but unfortunately once I'm in his line of sight he decides to call out to me. "Hey sorry do you think you could help me pick this stuff up? I shouldn't have tried to balance all of it on top of each other" he says clearly regretting his actions. I start picking things up quietly, not making an effort to make conversation and once we're finished I decide to turn and go. 

"Wait! What's your name?" he asks preventing me from leaving. "y/n" I state and wait for him to continue on with whatever he had planned to say. "Well y/n would you mind helping me carry this stuff over to the music building? I'm just worried I might drop it all again" he says taking all of the heavy books and hoping that I'll pick up the folders full of sheet music. I stand there for a second trying to calculate the time it would take me to help him out and if I can fit it into my schedule. 

"If you help me, I'll buy you lunch" he says with a bright almost perfect smile aside from his cooked front tooth. Thinking about it now with that incentive clearly tips the scale, providing him with a favorable result. I wordlessly pick up the things he couldn't manage to carry and wait for him to lead the way. "You don't talk much do you?" he chuckles giving me a sideways glance. "Not unless it's necessary" I say and continue to follow hoping I'll get this over with so I can get back on schedule.

"So...what's your major?" he says obviously trying to maintain a conversation with me. "Computer Engineering" I answer giving his as short of answers as possible. I'm not one for casual conversation, let alone conversation at all. Like I said, only when necessary. "I'm Jimin by the way, and if you couldn't guess already my major is music. Well, music and dance but my course load this semester is very music centric" I nod my head and he decides to keep rambling which seems to be something he's used to doing.

From the casual glances we're getting it seems like he's pretty well known in this department. "Hey Jimin you down to go grab some lunch in a sec?" a guy in a big group of people yells out. "Nah that's okay, I promised to buy y/n lunch for helping me out" he says motioning to me as best as he can with his hands full. "Oh...okay well have fun" the guy says and goes back to one of the many conversations going on over there. 

I turn my head and look back up at Jimin confused, "You could've just given me enough for the cafeteria and have gone with them" I say hoping to brush him off and go back to my solitude. "I'm not gonna buy you food from the cafeteria silly, let's go somewhere! There's a cool pizza place right outside of campus that I've been wanting to check out. You wanna go?" he asks asks and nods towards the classroom that we're meant to leave these things at. "I guess" I shrug not really caring at this point. Since my class doesn't start for another two hours I guess I could afford to go off campus to eat for a change, especially since it's free. 

As we make our way into the pizza place (creatively named Pizza Planet) we're greeted by a pretty big crowd but luckily we're able to find a table near the entrance right away. "Welcome in" someone yells letting us know they saw us come in and they'll be with us in a moment. "This place is pretty cool huh? He says referring to the theme that seems to be trendy these days. "Spaceships, nice" I say barely looking up while scanning the QR code to get the menu.

"Have you never watched the movie Toy Story?" he says, surprised that I don't have a better reaction to it. "No I'm not big on American movies or whatever. My family really only showed us media that was Korean or Japanese" I say hoping to show that I'm not interested on elaborating on the topic any further and luckily before he can say anything again our server comes to our table. 

"Welcome to Pizza Planet guys, what can I get you?" he says with a bright smile until his glance falls on me. For some reason his expression changes to that of annoyance and I'm slightly confused but not enough to comment on it. "Do you know what you want y/n?" Jimin asks me and I take a quick glance over the menu and settle on the most expensive item. It's a free meal so might as well milk it for all it's worth.

Jimin places his order and the server looks back down at me and asks if we wanted anything else to which Jimin denies. "You guys do student discounts though right?" he asks holding out his card and the server takes his eyes off of me to inspect his student ID and confirms his suspicions. 

Once he hands him back his student ID the server's gaze for some reason falls back on me. "Do you need to see my ID too?" I question suddenly weirded out by his glaring. "No" he says full of spite, pushing up the bridge of his glasses. "Okay well then you can go now, don't you have other people to serve?" I say shooing him off, to which he looks down at me with utter confusion and opts to just turn away to go put in our order instead of making an further discussion. 

"Are you okay?" Jimin asks, clearly aware of the weird tension between the server and I. "Yeah I'm fine, he was just acting really weird" I say and shake it off for the time being. "Do you know him?" he asks tilting his head at me. "Why would I know a random guy in a pizza place?" I say confused as to how this all connects in his head. "Well because he goes to school with us, I believe his name is Jungkook, I had a class with him last semester and he seemed like a cool guy or so I thought. Are you guys okay?" he asks clearly concerned, seeing my face contort into an uncomfortable realization when I finally put the pieces together. 

I guess I didn't recognize him because he was dressed so differently while sporting a hat and glasses. Looks like he clearly recognized me though, and he definitely wasn't happy to see me. I watch as Jungkook makes his way out of the shop as another server comes to relieve him. "Would you mind it if I went outside to go talk to him for a second?" I ask already standing up not really caring to wait for his permission. "Oh um yeah okay, I guess I'll just stay here" he says awkwardly while watching me walk out before I'm finally out of his view. 

Looking around I notice that there's a small alleyway between this pizza place and the next building over and I can see a puff of smoke coming out of it as well as hear someone's voice sounding like some sort of argument. I walk over and thankfully it's the exact person I've been looking for. "Hey can you get off the phone?" I say and he looks up glaring at me and he stops leaves a pause in the conversation happening before he tells the person on the phone that he has to go. "What do you want?" he says before taking a drag off of his cigarette. 

"We need to talk" I say seeing if he's open to it. "So talk" he says and purposefully blows smoke in my direction which leaves me having to wave away the smoke and clear my throat before I'm able to start. "I owe you an apology" I start off, "No shit you do" he mumbles under his breath. "Are you gonna let me talk or should I just go back inside?" I say getting short with him. "Yeah go back to your boyfriend, see if I care" he spits out and throws his cigarette on the floor to stomp it out before pushing himself up off the wall and making moves to walk off.

"He's not my boyfriend, in fact not that it's any of your business but we just met today and the only reason I'm here is because he offered me a free meal for helping him carry some stuff across campus" I say in one breath and open my mouth to continue "That doesn't sound like you" he interrupts laughing bitterly at my story. "Well it's the truth and you can ask him yourself if you really don't believe me" I say crossing my arm, becoming aware that this has now become my defensive stance of choice against him.

"No that's fine I believe you, I just find it adorable that you could be so food motivated. Helping out a perfectly good stranger and then making a trip with him off campus. That wasn't very smart of you y/n" he says taunting me. "Just because you're older than me doesn't mean that you get to talk down to me" I say getting even more irritated at this situation. "That's funny that you say that" he says getting closer until he's sure to tower over me, "because it looks like I have to love" he says trying to get some sort of reaction out of me. 

I'm not sure exactly what it could be I decide to take a step back but as I do I find myself slipping on something and I mentally brace for impact but it never comes, now seeming to notice a firm grasp on my waist instead of my back on the cold hard street. "Be careful there y/n, we wouldn't want to have an accident on our hands" he says amused at our forced proximity and my facial expressions because of it. I get back up on my feet and push him away after I've sure I regained my balance. "I apologized okay? Now stop being so hostile, it's annoying" I say while straightening out my clothes. "But I like seeing the faces you make when I'm annoying you" he says with a smirk. 

"What faces? I don't make any faces" I deny. "Why don't you go look in the mirror pretty, I'm sure you'll see why I like it so much" he says before walking past me. "Hey where are you going? Aren't you going to apologize too?" I call after him before he gets too far. "Sorry love, I've gotta go back to work, why don't we pick this up later?" he says sending me a wink before opening the door and walking inside. "But I don't want there to be a later" I say under my breath kicking the rocks that I had no doubt slipped on just moments ago. I shake myself out of whatever headspace he had me in and take a deep breath trying to calm myself down. 

I've never had a rush of so many emotions running through me before, and the only other times it has gotten close to this it seems like Jungkook has been the one to triggered them. I groan and make my way back inside as well and I sit back down at the table not making an effort to say a word to Jimin. "So how did it go? It seemed like he was pretty happy when he walked in" he says intrigued by our polar opposite returns with me being the one who looks upset now. "He's happy because he was able to irritate me and get a reaction out of me. Ugh I should've never went out there" I groan and take a drink of my water.

"Why did you end up going out there?" he questions, clearly interested in the story behind our weird behaviors. "I said some things that were probably interpreted as being mean, I'm not the kind of person who cares much about others but I'm adult enough to admit that what I said was out of line" I say rolling my eye irritated that I let him get the best of me time and time again, but for some reason I end up being the bad guy.

"I swear this man is going to put me in an early grave" I say and then speak of the devil Jungkook shows up with our order. "That's not very nice, are you already trying to be mean to me again" he pouts jokingly. "No but you are being rather rude listening in on people's conversations" I roll my eyes and go back to taking a drink of water. "It's not my fault that you're talking about me right in front of me. Anyways is there anything else I can get you guys?" he asks looking between the two of us.

"No I think we're all set" Jimin responds sending me a smile which I return with a nod. "What about you pretty? Do you need anything else from me?" Jungkook says leaning towards me and tucking my hair behind my ear to see my face better. To which I respond to by choking on my water while also spilling some on the table. "Shit y/n are you okay?" Jimin asks clearly concerned for my welfare. I cough a few times and send him a thumbs up trying to calm my coughs down. "I'll go get you guys some napkins" Jungkook chuckles walking off. 

"Man I swear guys like him think they can get away with anything just because they're more attractive than the average male" he says rolling his eyes at him and handing his napkins over to me. "Thanks" I say and clean up as best as I could while we wait for the rest of the napkins. "It's fine I'm over it" I say clearing my throat hopefully for the last time right as Jungkook returns with more napkins.

"Sorry guys I was just teasing, your meal's on me this time okay?" he says giving us both a charming smile. "You sure?" Jimin asks looking surprised as ever. "Yeah it's the least I could do for interrupting you guys and making y/n upset" he says but I can tell he's still teasing me even though he's behaving in front of Jimin. 

"Thank you so much" Jimin says giving him a thankful shallow bow. "It's fine don't mention it, also you can call me Hyung if you want to, I don't mind" Jungkook offers, clearly trying to get on Jimin's good side. This whole act he's putting on is ridiculous, I haven't known him for long but I can sure as hell tell when people are lying. "Okay, thank you Jungkook hyung" he says and smiles back at me. "You can call me Oppa if you want to y/n" he says offering it to me as well, waiting for me to take the bait. 

"Jungkook is just fine for me, I'll call you JK if you want me to, but that's it" I say not bothering to show any sort of respect and grace to the person who just bought my meal which is probably cold by now. "Aw come on just once?" he says mercilessly taunting me still. "Don't you ever get tired of being a pain in the ass?" I say finally fed up with all of his antics "Nope" he says popping the P at the end before leaning down to whisper in my ear "You look cute when you're feisty" he says making sure to blow on my neck again making me shiver slightly. 

I stand up abruptly and he straightens his posture and takes a step back giving me the tiniest bit of room to pass by. "Jimin I'm leaving if you want I'll wait for you outside so we can take the food back to campus" I say and make moves to leave as quickly as I can, not missing the way Jungkook chuckles at me on the way out. "Um yeah I'll be out in a second. Hyung do you think you could box this up for us?" he asks using the new term he had been encouraged to use. "Sure, see you around y/n" he says making sure I hear it before the door closes behind me.  

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[akookminsupporter]

Jungkook being the ultimate Park Jimin fan for the 1827377382928750997th time:

https://twitter.com/selena7JM/status/1756303150099644531?s=19

Imagine going on multiple lives and mentioning Jimin that when someone compiled it, Jungkook mentioned Jimin's name (and other variations of his name) 100+ times 🫠

*whispers to self* is that why the subgroup refused to watch JK's lives, hmm? Can't handle JK rubbing it on all your faces with his Jimin-centric live? 🤭

I still can't believe we never got that Jikook wlive even after all that begging from Jeon Jungkook himself.

They refused to watch his Wlives? 😭😭😭😭

[magini0]

Kimset - (II)

Pairing: ot6 x Jungkook | Jungkook x Everyone

Genre: Witch AU, Soulmate AU, Ex's to Lovers, Angst With a Happy Ending

Summary: Jungkook has until the next Witching Moon to develop a cure for his chronic illness. With his race against time, he really doesn’t have the nerve to be constantly pestered by his old coven mates—whom he had left behind after a mission gone wrong. Back as a famous healer and sponsored by a renowned magical society, Jungkook is ready to do what it takes to survive. Now, if only his former coven would back off and stop being so damn persistent in making up for their old mistakes…

Word Count: 16k

Also accessible on ao3 => Here Previous Chapter => Here Next Chapter => Here

The sound of clapping filled the room like an encouraging symphony, the student at the podium trying—yet failing—to hide their smile at the favorable response to their inquiry. Kim Yugyeom, a face Jungkook hadn't intended to see again in his life. Yet again, he hadn't intended to see any familiar faces when attending this university. A thought he didn't want to dwell on; he had barely managed to push the subject away this morning. He had gotten dressed and rushed off to present his inquiry to his fellow students and the MCA association currently present. 

After all, your inquiry had to be approved before you could actually start. The university's board of education and the MCA would then score your presentation; the higher the score, the larger your funding pool would be. How exactly the scores were determined was yet to be defined; publicly, it was described as a completely unbiased procedure and criteria; however, it was clear that even in the magical world, influences could come from anywhere. 

Corruption was truly the only one unbiased. It affects everyone.  

The sound of heavy auditorium doors opening shifted his attention from Yugyeom's presentation. The aspiring witch's inquiry consisted of finding a caladrius and further studying the bird's supposed healing properties. Jungkook barely knew anything about mythical beasts; he had never been very good with animals nor very interested. But he did know that caladrius were rare and practically extinct. That was why the university board was so approving of the inquiry, considering that if Yugyeom's mission was successful, it would benefit the university itself. 

But all that seemed to simmer into a lingering thought when his eyes locked onto the sight of a sitting, silently brooding Jimin, arms folded over his chest as he observed Yugyeom's presentation. Even to the untrained eye, the blonde witch appeared tense. Shoulders pull back slightly more than what was considered casual, mouth etched into a slight frown. Jungkook hadn't meant to stare; he wasn't a part of Jimin's life anymore. The thought was supposed to console him, but in reality, it only fueled the sinister ache inside his chest. 

Jungkook hadn't actually gotten a look at any of his old hyungs this morning, having gotten dressed and heading for a quick escape out the front door. He didn't want to face them. Perhaps it was the naive hope he clung to that he could simply avoid them for the remainder of the year. 

But even at the sight of Jimin simply sitting in the auditorium, Jungkook realized that his ambitions were rather hopeless. Like a moth to a flame, he couldn't keep his gaze focused. How could he? Look away from something— someone he had hoped to see for the past six years. 

"Jimin!" Taehyung's hushed voice called out, light and happy. 

The brunette sneaks up behind Jimin's brooding form, snaking his arms around his neck and pressing a few gentle kisses against the other's cheek. Jungkook watched, with an untold heaviness, as Taehyung trailed around Jimin's seat—the witch was sitting at the end of an aisle—before plopping himself in the still vacant seat beside the blonde. And Jungkook's gaze lingered with an untold masochism as Jimin's unhappiness melted away. The earlier locked jaw pushed out an exhale, the previous frown turned into a smile, and those chilling eyes took on an expression entirely too fond. 

Jimin leaned forward, cupping Taehyung's cheek and pressing their lips together. It wasn't an all-too-sensual kiss, considering that neither of the two witches could push down their smiles long enough to kiss properly. But it hurt.  

It hurt so much.  

But the worst part was that it still hurt to be hurting. 

As Jungkook sat down aisles ahead of them, partially to remove the temptation to further damage himself by glancing back, the world around him grew distant. The loud, projecting voice of Yugyeom drowned out the applause that would follow a particularly enthused statement. It was all gone, distant. Although present, Jungkook wasn't really there. 

He was somewhere else entirely, a place with rhythmic ballads, self-playing violins and cellos as witches danced tangos and waltzes. He recalled the night vividly, their first festival at the academy, celebrating the Veilweaver's Moon in all its glory. But Jungkook didn't remember the night over some planet in the sky—no, he had gotten something most precious that night. That night, he had his first kiss.    

He had felt so jealous.

Jealousy.

An adjective with different meanings, but in this case, it could be defined as feeling fiercely protective or vigilant of one's rights or possessions. Only Jungkook didn't have a right over what he was jealous of; after all, he didn't own Jimin. 

The witch was his own person, and Jimin had always been like a bird prancing in the wind. Free. It hadn't bothered him before, quite the opposite; in all of Jungkook's coolly constructed and scheduled childhood, Jimins adventurous nature was like a breath of fresh air. He had adored it. But watching as Jimin, his sweet Park Jimin, dance with another oddly stung. The rational part inside Jungkook pleaded for an audience inside himself, trying to explain that Hoseok was Jimin's soulmate. They all were soulmates; it was unreasonable to feel how he felt. 

But that didn't change the fact that he felt it. He felt greatly, wave upon wave crashing against each other like tsunamis pushing against his heart—his soul. Seeing Jimin laughing, eyes creasing, and teeth on display. Nose occasionally scrunching up, his own giggles distracting him enough to misplace a step or two within the dance. Jimin looked so gosh damn happy. 

Those smiles used to belong to him. 

The sight was too much; it fueled the insecurities inside himself like gasoline thrown into a bonfire. It provided a speaker to that voice inside his head that insisted he wasn't enough. Jimin was like the sun, warm and giving. And Jungkook felt himself become inadequate to be basking in its soft glow. 

It was why he had left the event in the first place; the academy's ballroom had seemed so endless when everyone had come together to decorate it. Marble tiles stretched out, meter-long windows reached for the curved ceiling, and a chandelier reflected light off of its glass embellishments and jewelry. It had been beautiful. It still was. 

Only now, the room felt suffocating. His own jealousy wrapped around his throat, body, and soul before it squeezed. Everything felt inconsequential; the classical music sounded distant, washed out as if underwater. The chatter surrounding him drowned alongside the music, nearly mimicking a language he chose not to understand. All he could focus on was them. Hoseok and Jimin. 

They looked perfect together. Hoseok was similar to Jimin in ways Jungkook could never be. A realization that made the phantom noose around his throat tighter, unyielding in its pursuit to torture him further. Although Jungkook barely bothered with any of his other soulmates, from the little interactions he had shared with Hoseok, the older male carried a similar chipperness to Jimins. Once, during breakfast, Hoseok had reduced Jimin to a pile of wheezing laughter, the kind that hardly made any noise at all. 

Jungkook was rarely ever that funny. 

But it wasn't until the halls began whispering about how Jimin and Hoseok were the perfect couple, how the soulmates were so clearly made for each other, that birthed the intensity of his envy. At first, he made nothing of those words; they were idle chit-chat students murmured to pass their time with senseless gossip. No one knew Jimin the way he did.

But seeing them dance, Hoseok's hand tauntingly resting against Jimin's waist. Laughing so beautifully, a thought—realization—skipped across his mind. 

Those students had been right.

"Kookie?" 

Jungkook sniffled, shoulders hitching up as the voice seemed to protrude his little moment of solace. He had left the party nearly twenty minutes ago; instead, he sought asylum in the academy's library. Aisles were replaced by extended bookshelves, reaching so high up to the ceiling a sliding ladder was against each shelf. They weren't used often, mainly by first years who hadn't learned the proper spell yet to simply pull the needed book towards oneself. There was a second floor that took the shape of an O, leaving a gap in the middle to peer down at the stretching wooden desks available to students. Narrow but long windows decorated the west side of the room, and small cushioned ledges made the window sills most desirable. 

The sun rose in the east and set in the west, casting the library in an orange hue that made everything look golden. Jungkook sat against the windowsill, legs pulled against his chest and back leaning against the wall that separated this window from the next. He had watched the sun die against the horizon, replacing the warm sky with something cold and encompassing.  

 A small thread of irritation lit inside him; the night had gone horrible; no, the week had been an accumulation of utterly shitty events. So why? Why couldn't he at least be left to sulk in peace? 

The entire week, Jimin had been distracted with the others, helping Namjoon with his cultivation, Jin with cooking duty—It wasn't even Jimin's scheduled date to help—and herding the griffin babies together with Hoseok. For an entire week, Jimin had spent time with the others instead of him. Even Taehyung, their rudest covenmate, was teaching Jimin how to spray paint. Or Yoongi, who had offered to tutor Jimin in herbology. Jimin hated herbology, but all of a sudden, he was its biggest fan. 

It's only been a month since the two of them came to the academy, thirty days since the six red strings knotted to his finger found their destinations. He hated it. 

Hated that he hadn't been bunked with Jimin and instead got Taehyung, a rude riff-raff wannabe who had cussed him out for placing his suitcase on 'his side of the room' only thirty minutes into their introduction. To put it simply, he vehemently disliked the edgy artist. He was irascible and unpredictable, a potential danger to Jimin, if not only a bad influence. His other soulmates were more bearable, but he wasn't really interested. He had Jimin; the two were a team. Not a group or a party—it was them against the world. No one else. 

But Jimin was so eager in his utterly loving nature. It wasn't even surprising to Jungkook how quickly the rest of them fell for the bundled-up sunlight that was his hyung. Who wouldn't fall in love with Jimin? 

He knew he did. He had loved him instantly. 

A bundle of nerves had taken place inside his chest like all the strings inside his soul became knocked. A painful tug erupted within him whenever he saw Jimin smile for one of them—the same way he used to smile for Jungkook 

"You should be at the party, hyung." He murmured, voice hoarse in a way that made him cringe. He didn't need prying eyes against his crying figure. His own gaze was still cast out the window, taking in the colors of the sky as if he'd never see the sunset again. Perhaps not meeting Jimin's gaze right now was his own weak attempt at preserving his already bruised pride. 

"I would," Jimins voice trailed off as his footsteps approached the window. Slowly, Jimin's figure sat down beside him. Immaturely, Jungkook refused to look at him. Sniffles still occasionally betrayed him, prompting him to wipe at his wet cheeks rather irritably with his pulled-up sleeve. "But my soulmate isn't there." Jimin finished. 

"One." Jungkook muttered bitterly.

"What?" 

"One of your soulmates wasn't there." He clarified, his own jealous bitterness sinking into his tone. Tainting it with his anger. "You seemed to be having fun; who knows—maybe Namjoon stopped dancing with Seokjin? Or maybe Taehyung's free. You seemed to be all for bad boys lately." 

Jungkook felt guilt spread through him at the sound of Jimin's sharp intake of air, the silence between them adding invisible weight to his chest and shoulders. He felt foolish and immature for his feelings. It wasn't Jimin's fault for wanting to spend time with his very own soulmates; it was normal. Good even. Jimin shouldn't fall victim to his envy. 

If only he could tell his feelings that. 

"Oh Kookie…" A hand rested on his arm, thumb rubbing softly against his uniform. Still unable to meet Jimin's gaze, the irrational fear of finding a look akin to pity kept his gaze outside. Where the night choked out the colors in the sky, stars began to peek through, and the moon began to show. 

It wasn't until he was pulled into a hug, arms wrapped around him in familiarity, that forced his defenses to lower. Because this was his Jimin, his sweet little sunlight. And unlike the sky, Jungkook would keep its light blazing within the sky for an eternity. 

That night, Jungkook's lips had pressed against Jimins for the first time. He had savored the taste and feeling of those lips against his in an empty, closed-off library. It was simple, sweet, and innocent. A type of kiss that, with Jungkook's inexperienced eagerness, left their teeth hitting against each other's, resulting in some breathless giggles. Jimin's hands had cupped his cheeks, pacing Jungkook gently as the two soulmates grew closer. This was simply one of the many firsts Jungkook would give to Jimin. 

Watching the sunset filled Jungkook with an irrational sensation, a collaboration between fear and dread. Jimin was like the sun, but what if he, too, would set in Jungkook's world? What if one day, his world would become just as dark and obsolete as the night sky. 

The sound of clapping bid Kim Yugyeom goodbye, the witch-polished smile somehow seeming unfamiliar to Jungkook; he had always known Yugyeom as a completely genuine person, seeing him plaster on something so fake threatened his nose to scrunch up in distaste. Jungkook didn't know Yugyeom anymore. 

With a quick glance around, anybody could practically sense the anxieties and tensions in the air. The constant rustling of clothes being tugged and rearranged, legs bouncing up and down rhythmically, the sheer restlessness nearly seeping into the other magicals auras. Everyone was nervous, well, almost everyone. 

Walking up to the podium himself was, admittedly, a little nerve-wracking. Jungkook wasn't shy; the thought of strangers silently evaluating him didn't really bother him. What irked him was the knowledge that they would be watching too. An observant gaze lingering against his skin, something that would've left a trail of goosebumps across his skin in a welcomed way, now became all too unwelcomed . 

A strange sense of urgency lingered inside him, bubbling like an overflowing cauldron as he walked up the small steps. He wasn't sure if it was his pride or hurt ego at their presence, but Jungkook wanted to show off. He was feeling petty. A part of him so desperately wanted to shove it into their faces that he was doing good without them. That he had and was successful after their separation. However, a nagging little voice inside his head wasn't necessarily certain which party he was trying to convince. Them or himself? 

Clearing his throat, he finally stepped up to the podium. Head held high, something Balam drilled into him before reaching the auditorium, posture straight and confident. A polite, practiced smile tugged at his lips. Jungkook knew that the university sought him out specifically due to his achievements during his apprenticeship; if successful, Jungkook could bring the establishment glory. 

“Hello, I am Jeon Jungkook.” He introduced himself politely, with a small bow to his introduction. This was standard procedure; not many witches actually strived to complete the seventh level; it was an extracurricular in the magical world—one with benefits he was more than eager to reap. Glancing around the room, the smell of wood and carpet filled his senses. The auditorium was clearly as old as the university itself, large and glorious as it took on a circular shape. Instead of a flat ceiling, a large dome covered the structure. Before the stage, three rows of seats stretched to the back of the room, only separated by two narrow aisles lined with an extravagant red carpet. Its high, vaulted ceilings are adorned with intricate frescoes, and towering columns line the periphery between the windows, further creating a sense of grandeur. Rich, polished dark wood paneling and plush velvet drapes added warmth to the sophisticated space. Again, the fact that this university reminded Jungkook more of a castle was a theory evermore confirmed the longer he observed. 

Candles floated above their heads, no doubt there to provide everlasting light. Something entirely unnecessary at the moment due to the walls of the auditorium bearing long, narrow windows that kissed the edges of the dome ceiling. Natural morning light flooded the space. It felt oddly bright, silently waking even the still drowsy students. The sky was a clear, untainted blue. Making the small glimpses outside even more captivating, the nature surrounding the university was just as mesmerizing as its interior. 

"Throughout my apprenticeship, I studied Astrobiomedicine under the guidance of Kwang-sun with the pseudonym JJK." He paused, swallowing down the temptation of his lips to turn crooked—a smirk begging to contort his practiced feature and reveal how much he reveled in the small gasps and murmurs within the room. Ah, he had nearly forgotten how famous JJK had gotten. 

"Throughout that time, I have managed to leave a more positive footprint on our community. With supported inquiries, guidance, and dedication, I was able to develop aid and cures in the Astrobiomedicine field." A smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes as the small dopamine of praise washed out. A strange—no, familiar feeling began blooming inside his gut. As if Balam could feel it herself, she nudged her head against his leg. In her cold stare, she encouraged him to go on. 

"One of my first achievements under Kwang-suns guidance was by making witching flu medicine more available for everyone; this was done by replacing newt syrup—we all know how arduous it is to get a hold of that—" A light-hearted joke escaped him, a desperate attempt to have the audiences own amused chuckles lift his own spirits. Save him from his own gnawing thoughts. It didn't work. "With the widely available thistle." He concluded, smiling politely at the clapping that interrupted his presentation. 

A traitorous thought escaped him. Were they impressed? 

"Throughout my second year under Kwang-sun, I modified the pre-existing medicine for Draemori Flux with a specifically cultivated flower found on the peaks of Mount Chelopee, previously endangered and now being reintroduced into our ecosystems. Successfully extending the life expectancy of those diagnosed for approximately twenty years." Another wave of clapping finished his sentence for him, the strange feeling inside his gut and chest growing nauseating. 

"During my last year, I worked with Kwang-sun and my team to develop a cure for Faerune Fever, a disease we are most aware of that is fast, rapid, and deadly." A small whooping noise followed by, again, intruding applause made Jungkook pause. The voice of the praising noise sounded familiar, but Jungkook suddenly didn't want to boast anymore. He felt uncomfortable, and the smile he should be wearing felt like the hardest thing to maintain at the moment. 

"Throughout my apprenticeship, I wanted to remain as true to myself as I could be. One of my goals has been, and always will be, to give back to my community." The sinking feeling inside his gut grew claws, howling and hissing inside himself as it clung to his heart painfully. "Therefore, as my inquiry for my seventh level, I have taken it upon myself to develop a cure for Nexus Entropy." 

Encouraging clapping fills the room as Jungkook ends his presentation, bowing politely as he exits off the podium. The eager looks, the chattering about selflessness, and the fond look surrounding him make Jungkook sick. Without a word, Jungkook leaves the suddenly suffocating atmosphere the acceptance of his inquiry brought him. Breathing unevenly as he wanders outside, seeking asylum on a nearby bench. 

Closing his eyes and gulping down his growing emotions, Jungkook focused on leveling the overwhelming amounts of emotions he felt. They weren't strange; he had grown used to them, but perhaps he was surprised by their frequency since arriving at the university. 

The sight of the school board and MCA holding up a small paddle with the heavy, glowing numbers of a bold ten burned themselves into his mind. A ten. The highest score one could get. He had gotten full funding. And yet, Jungkook sat on a wonky park bench, trying to even his breathing. Slowly, the monster inside his gut reveals itself. 

Guilt. 

It swallowed him whole because he was the only one who knew. Jungkook had never been selfless. He had never done anything purely from the goodness of his heart. 

Jungkook was doing this for himself.

"Do you know who I'll be sharing the laboratory with?" Judging by the sun and the lack of students roaming the halls, it must've been around lunchtime. The sun was high in the sky, merciless as always, forcing the lounging students in the courtyard to seek shelter underneath the inviting shade of the trees planted around the grounds. It looked peaceful, nothing but idle chatter and a still-warm breeze delicately shifting strands of hair. Perhaps if Jungkook wasn't feeling so cowardly, he would've gone and searched for Yugyeom, taken that time to catch up with his old friend—a strict understatement considering how inseparable they were during their academy years— yeah, Yugyeom had been his best friend. 

But after they returned from the Deep before graduation and split up, Jungkook had sought refuge in Yugyeom's arms. A few days had passed, and Jungkook had made up his mind to leave everything behind. Although Yugyeom knew the most, Jungkook left him behind, too. With a hug and a vague, I'll be alright , was all Yugyeom had for the past six years. As if the earlier guilt didn't gnaw holes into his constitution already, the endless uncertainty regarding his relationship with his old friend tormented him regardless. Yugyeom would have moved on, too. 

Before attending the university, Jungkook was aware of how much had changed. None of them were kids anymore; he wasn't an innocent, naive first-year who read about happy endings anymore or, the sixteen-year-old with immense temperament issues, or even the seventeen-year-old who felt nothing but love and devotion regarding his coven. Glancing around himself, now more than ever, Jungkook could see the past six years, from immature teenagers to the adults that now sauntered the halls looking to fulfill a great witches purpose. 

"Why do I even waste my breath talking when you aren't even listening? Honestly, it's like talking to a wall sometimes." The sharp tone of Balam's chiding tugged Jungkook back into the present, the sound of his footsteps echoing lonesomely amongst the halls. Balam, as elegant as always, didn't even make a peep. 

“What?—Ah, sorry Balam.” Pulling his gaze from the windows, he glanced at the disapproving look from Balam before shifting entirely against the opposing wall. Closed, wooden doors, each labeled with a letter and number indicating which laboratory one would find behind it. 

"Tsk, if you're going to ask someone something, at least have the common courtesy to listen for their answer." Balam paused; she had a small habit of doing that between scoldings, perhaps to give whoever was on the receiving end to actually absorb the lecture. "Like I was saying, I don't know who you're going to be sharing the space with." 

"But why do we even need to share a laboratory with someone? It could invite all kinds of trouble, like accidental contamination—or they could just be distracting and—" 

"Will you stop? You'll drive yourself crazy in the first week alone at this rate. Every laboratory is shared between two people, partly because of convenience but mostly for socialization." Balam finished, a tone filled with finalization that didn't leave Jungkook any room to argue. It's not like he had any. 

"Ah, here we are. Room B013 that'll be your laboratory." Balam stated, tail swaying casually as she watched Jungkook nod before opening the door. The sight was pause-worthy, at least for the young witch who stood stunned by the doorframe. Balam walked idly between his legs, a smugness to her gaze as he sauntered inside and hopped onto one of the black marble counters. Beginning to groom herself dutifully. 

The laboratory was a large space, a silent worry of Jungkooks deminishing as the space could easily fit two magicals. The walls were a creamy white, contrasting with the deep mahogany of the windowsill and framing. Two large, ceiling-reaching windows gave the space a good amount of natural light. For the actual workspace, there were long rectangular islands made out of a marbled black stone. Material like that could withstand certain chemicals; no doubt why the university chose such a heavy surface in the first place. 

To each side of the room, hugging some free space against the walls, was a display case. Walking over and opening the case, Jungkook marveled at the sheer amount of vials, cylinders, and other equipment waiting to be used. Looking around, he didn't mind the slight unevenness of the floorboards. The university was old, and although he was sure certain spells kept it maintained, age was something irreversible. 

The space was open, not as homely as other aspects of the castle, but this was a laboratory. It wasn't supposed to be overly decorated or warm, places like these never were. But Jungkook found himself comfortable, which was rather important considering how many hours he'd be spending within this room. He should get to work.

Setting his bag down on an empty chair, Jungkook began familiarizing himself. Grabbing an empty notebook and taking inventory of what was available already, having found a section of dried-out herbs on a shelf on the south side of the room. It was important to note what he already had and what he needed to order, although there were rare oddities he would need to cultivate himself. He had sent Balam off a few minutes ago to check the greenhouses for thornvine—a plant that would only grow in October—making it important for him to know in case he needed to cultivate some of his own. 

"I should've known you'd be in here."

Spinning around on his heels, Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his old friend, Kim Yugyeom. Now that he wasn't mentally preparing himself to present in front of an audience, Jungkook silently looked over the way Yugyeom, after all this time, hadn't really changed appearance-wise. Still, the same straight black hair parted to the side and loose, comfortable clothing. The only noticeable difference was that Yugyeom wore light, natural-looking makeup. Small dabbles of highlighter and eyeshadow extenuating his already soft features. 

What do you say to someone you left behind?

Although the sight of Yugyeom warmed his heart, feeding it with a bittersweet nostalgia that threatened to tug a crooked smile across his lips. Sweet because he and Yugyeom were like two peas in a pod, they understood each other. Unlike Seokjin or Namjoon, Yugyeom never tried fixing Jungkook. Not because he wasn't worried or approved of Jungkook's delinquent tendencies but because Yugyeom had faith in Jungkook. Because, unlike anyone, Yugyeom understood where the aggressive behavior came from. Yugyeom knew that one day, Jungkook would move on. So on days when Jungkook would hide out from his Hyungs after having gotten into another lone fight, lord knows how fussy they all could get, lip busted and bruises forming above his cheekbone, Yugyeom would let him in and simply listen. He wouldn't touch or coddle, ask a hundred-and-one questions, scold or reprimand him—no, Yugyeom would continue playing on his computer, waiting for Jungkook to talk if he wanted to. 

Jungkook hadn't wanted to for a while. 

He would sit by the window, beanbag, or bed, and simply exist for some time. Waiting for Yugyeom's accepting personna to break, for the other to finally realize he wasn't going to get some juicy gossip from Jungkook and move on. Only Yugyeom never did. Not when Hoseok came knocking on his dorm door, asking about him, and Yugyeom convincingly lying about his whereabouts. Covering for him over and over again. So one day, sitting on Yugyeom's bed, back leaning against the white wall the bed frame was pushed against, knees to his chest, and fingers idly picking at some of the scabs covering his knuckles. Jungkook talked, and Yugyeom had listened. 

So, how do you talk to someone you left behind six years ago? Fully expecting and accepting, never to see them again? 

"What, not gonna say 'Hi' or anything?" Yugyeom's mused lips curved upwards in a kind smile. A smile so strikingly familiar, that Jungkook felt practically unworthy to be basking in its warmth. Just moments ago, Jungkook was reminiscing about how everything in his life had changed without him, and there stood Yugyeom, again , standing utterly unchanged before him. Still, the same buoy that kept Jungkook afloat all those years ago. 

The prompt got Jungkook out of his momentary stupor, hurriedly fumbling over his words as he tried narrowing them down to just one sentence. Thousands of questions plagued him all at once, wanting to know so much while simultaneously apologizing for even more. Fortunately, Yugyeom seemed to have mercy on him once more, filling the room with a genuine laugh at Jungkook's fumbling. 

"What? You can't be surprised to see me; you presented your inquiry right after mine, after all." Again, Yugyeom carried a smile that reminded Jungkook of the Cheshire cats, only less mischievous and more amused. And Yugyeom's question wasn't wrong; he wasn't surprised by his presence but by the fact that Yugyeom was actually talking to him. Yugyeom should be mad at him; he'd have every right to , he thought deprecatingly. 

"Well, I just didn't think you'd, well," Jungkook paused, gesturing with his hand, "come find me." He concluded, sigh heavy on his tongue. 

Yugyeom's smile dwindled at his words, the sight reminding him of nyctinasty, a rhythm that allowed plants to open and close depending on the time of day. Although his words were unorganized, watching them have such a horrid effect on Yugyeom made them feel terrible. Without much hesitation, Yugyeom walked over slowly, methodical in his steps before pulling Jungkook's still-tense body into a hug. They stood like that for a moment, Yugyeom's arms wrapped around Jungkook, a type of hug that felt just so encompassing, warm, and protective. Yugyeom was hugging him like he used to. Jungkook's arms worked on their own, wrapping tightly around his old pillar in life, hand carefully clutching the knitted material of Yugyeom's warm, marbled-looking sweater. His head disappeared into the crook of his neck, mostly to keep Yugyeom from seeing the watery shine to his eyes, inhaling the subtle scent of citrus still clinging to his friend. A perfume oil Jungkook had gifted Yugyeom for his seventeenth birthday. 

A comfortable, emotional silence spread throughout the room. Distantly, one could hear a bird chirping, singing softly to itself as it landed in its nest, tucked against the outside windowsill along the left window. Sunlight shone through the windows, its light subtly spreading heat wherever it touched Jungkook's body. The two simply held each other, wordlessly making up for lost time. 

"It's really good to see you again, Jungkook," Yugyeom murmured into his shoulder, and even without seeing the other's face, Jungkook knew he wasn't the only one choking on his feelings. 

Jungkook wasn't exactly sure how long they stood like that, either party unwilling to release the other. Perhaps, in a silent fear of losing the other for another six years— or maybe even forever. They didn't say anything; however, the room never ceased to actually quiet, whether that was for the birds singing or occasional students passing down the hall or the pure liveliness of the castle itself that kept the room from ever really feeling silent.  

It nearly forced an ironic chuckle to escape Jungkook as he recalled one of the first things that had pulled him towards Yugyeom in the first place. No matter what, the quiet had never felt uncomfortable. Maybe that's Yugyeom's true specialty. Jungkook mused to himself, hands subconsciously tightening their ghostly hold on his friend. 

But just like any moment, this one had to leave them too. Jungkook struggled between saying too much and simultaneously not enough, apologies prancing at the tip of his tongue. But he also wasn't sorry. For leaving them, for distancing himself after they left him. However, in his pursuit to feel nothing, Jungkook accidentally lost what he still had. 

"I'm sorry." A croaked, emotional voice broke the silence. 

Yugyeom chuckled, but Jungkook could hear the heart behind it. Somehow, Yugyeom had grown emotional too. But it wasn't anger like Jungkook had expected, nor resentment or aloofness. Perhaps it was because Jungkook found none of that—that Yugyeom still looked and embraced him with all of his flaws, that really broke the nonchalant facade Jungkook tried so desperately to maintain. 

"I don't know for what in the world you could be sorry for, Jungkook." Yugyeom mused, a delicate sing-song voice that made his words just sound so easy. So simple. 

Maybe Jungkook simply was just a masochist, someone in strict denial that his actions would go unpunished. Because in an instant, Jungkook didn't hesitate to remind him. "For leaving you, for not contacting you, for disappearing for the past six fucking years—"  

The discouraging tutting noise from Yugyeom quickly shushed Jungkook's feeble attempts at self-sabotage. The older male pulled away from their hug, instead cupping both of Jungkook's cheeks and forcing the spiraling witch to gaze back at him. “Jungkook, I understand . You needed to get out, to leave and collect yourself. At your own pace, in a place of your choosing." Yugyeom reminded, as if the barebone intentions had escaped Jungkook in the midst of all this chaos. 

"I knew that one day we'd see each other again. And when that day happened, I told myself that I'd greet you like the friend you always were." Yugyeom's voice shifted from serious to one lighter in tone, filled with fondness. "And here we are, nothing but old friends getting to spend time together once more. I'm really happy to see you again, Jungkook; you've been up to quite a lot, haven't you?" Yugyeom teased, letting his words wash over Jungkook as if his unconditional affection was only a mist against Jungkook's skin and not a complete and all-consuming wave crashing against his fridged heart. 

Jungkook hadn't even realized it himself, when exactly his heart had grown so brisk and glacial . Uncaring and detached from his past. But being with Yugyeom again, in an occasional silence that never once felt overbearing, melting at the sheer love that still endlessly poured from the other. Jungkook felt himself slowly thawing, begrudgingly accepting that Yugyeom was something of his past he didn't want to let go. 

"I know I let you pace our conversations yourself, but I am dying to know what you've been up to. Besides being a famous physician and all—which I'll get to later, don't think I'll let that one go." Yugyeom began, pulling away from Jungkook and instead hopping onto one of the working surfaces in the laboratory. Dangling his feet carelessly. 

Jungkook smiled at the shift in tone and Yugyeom's tendency towards the dramatics. Jungkook found himself sitting beside his best friend, talking about the past six years. About how he had met his Halmoni, about the rather—abrupt adoption into Chae-wons family. Helping out in the bookstore, dealing with angry customers and dodging flying books, even tutoring. A fond tone edged his words as he described Jung-so and how Jungkook looked forward to seeing the little witch grow. 

Along those lines, Jungkook skipped his diagnosis. Not necessarily intentionally, but mostly due to the fact that he couldn't bring himself to ruin the fond smile that had etched itself onto Yugyeom's lips. 

"What I don't understand is why you went with medicine, like—you hated herbology, biology, any of that stuff. You hated it because your parents forced you into it; the Jungkook I knew cared more about which colored paints to pair with which because apparently there's this entire color theory thing—" Jungkook couldn't help but laugh at Yugyeom sidetracked rambling. The chuckles got him a huff from the other and a playful nudge against his shoulder. "Anyways, what I'm saying is, why Astrobiomedicine?" 

Ah. 

Jungkook hummed, acknowledging the question as he tried to formulate his words. Eyes suddenly glued to the floor, legs swaying before stopping altogether. The truth was unwelcoming, cold, and bitter; the reality sunk into one's skin like poison. If Jungkook could, he would spare Yugyeom of it. The inevitable truth is that Jungkook would die sooner rather than later. 

"A year after I left, after we graduated and went our separate ways." He began, "I started feeling ill. My magic, well, it grew weak. I couldn't feel it like I used to, had to focus more when I needed to pull on it, and eventually it began hurting when I did." Jungkook vaguely recalled the nights spent trying not to hyperventilate when his undiagnosed symptoms would appear. How he would gently palm and rub on his chest to try and soothe the ache away, trying to convince himself it was lingering soreness from an earlier activity. But it wasn't until the shadows appeared that Jungkook sought help. 

A pregnant pause, a shaky breath, and Jungkook continued. Eyes clouded as he talked, body present but mind far away, recalling in vivid, gruesome detail what he had gone through. "The pain—the pain, it got so bad eventually, like someone was sucking the mana out of me like I could feel my magic die inside of me. Felt my body go absolutely haywire, trying to mend itself. Using what little mana I had available to subconsciously attempt to restore myself. But using magic made it worse, and the pain intensified. It wasn't—it wasn't until I started coughing blood that I went to see a healer." 

Jungkook hadn't realized how weak his voice had gotten or how Yugyeom had pulled him close and into his side. Rubbing small circles into his back like little incantations meant to soothe him. Jungkook hesitated because he didn't want to say it. Saying it made it feel so real . It invited the fear he tried so hard to suppress to consume him, body and soul. 

"I was diagnosed with Nexus Entropy." 

Yugyeom didn't have to say anything. That quiet, quivering breath spoke volumes. 

"How—" Yugyeom visibly struggled to ask; the sight plunged Jungkook's heart from its roots. He didn't want to make Yugyeom say it; to ask him that question, everyone eventually narrowed his condition down to. 

"How much longer do you have?" 

"By the end of the year—" Jungkook couldn't meet Yugyeom's gaze but reluctantly looked into his best friend's eyes. He could see the teary reflectiveness threatening Yugyeom, and all it needed was the catalyst Jungkook was about to provide. 

"By the end of the year, I'll be dead." 

Jungkook had until the next Witching Moon to figure out a cure, or else JJK would have been a prodigy.

The sound of the front door unlocking and Jungkooks shuffling inside filled the space, a long, exhausted sigh escaping him as he removed his jacket and hung it onto the nearly filled coat rack. Sliding off his shoes and slipping into a comfortable set of slippers, glancing at the remaining ones. It was always easy to tell who was and wasn't currently home simply based on the amount of house-slippers left. Two pairs were still there, which unfortunately meant for Jungkook—one-third of the coven was present. With everything that had happened today, presenting his inquiry, reconnecting with Yugyeom, talking about his diagnosis, Jungkook felt drained. Emotionally and physically, he had nothing left to give. It was worse enough that his supposed safe space wasn't a place he could recharge in either, quite the opposite actually; Jungkook had rarely ever felt such dread . 

He was good at distracting himself, diverting all his attention and energies to certain subjects or jobs to the point that nothing else was able to occupy him. Somehow, Jungkook had even managed to push the topic of his exes away, too. Beside his feet, Balam yawned and stretched out her front paws, arching her back in a dramatic gesture. The sight made Jungkook slightly guilty; unlike all the other familiars who had been allowed to rest alongside their witches throughout the day, she had opted to stick by his side. Today was supposed to be easy. 

"Balam, why don't you head to my room already? I'll just go and eat some dinner first." He suggested, glancing at the Siamese cat spirit beside him. She looked skeptical, and he wasn't exactly sure what persuaded her: the thought of sleep, Jungkook entering his dormitory space instead of hiding, or perhaps Balam was able to decipher the fact that Jungkook wanted some space. Either way, Balam nodded and sauntered her way down the hall and into his room. 

Jungkook walked alongside her until they reached the living room, momentarily getting paused by a small pomeranian with mixed-colored fur circling his legs excitedly. Jungkook had been a little surprised to see the dog until he quickly recalled that this must be one of the other familiars. In Jungkook's rush during the previous night to escape the others' prodding stares or simple presence, he had failed to notice the company of any other familiar besides Balam. A part of himself wanted to be a bit immature; the need to nudge the dog away with his foot and move on nearly made his leg tingle. But the other familiars weren't responsible for their witches' actions; it wasn't fair to let his frustrations out on the spirits. 

With a tired smile, he kneeled down before the hyper dog. It's tail wagging wildly, sniffling at Jungkook's outstretched hand. “Hello, I’m Jungkook.” He introduced, amusement twisting his drained expression into a more genuine one. Talking to the familiar was apparently like opening Pandora's box. 

"Hello Jungkook, I'm Yeontan! But I go by all kinds of names, like Tannie, or if you wanna be really formal with me, you could call me Kim Yeontan. But I don't really like it when people call me that—So Yeontan, or maybe Tannie? No, I'll go with Yeontan. Call me Yeontan!" The pomeranian spirit babbled, his tiny tongue slightly hanging from his mouth. A small, quiet panting accompanied Yeontan's excitement. 

But before Jungkook could even utter a word in response, the admittedly cute pomeranian shot back instantly. "I've heard a lot about you; I mean—he won't shut up about you. I wasn't listening very much, but soulmates! Isn't that romantic? It's very romantic, oh gosh, it's kinda like candy. We should go get some candy—"

"Yeontan!" The sharp, scolding voice from Seokjin contained the chipper dog; the other witch must've come from the kitchen if the amusing, pink with white polka-dotted apron didn't speak for itself. Yeontan listened, pausing his train of thought and remaining seated in his spot—well, trying to felt more accurate. The little dog shifted on its feet, swaying between the left and right front paws, tail swishing hazardously against the floorboards. The thought that this might be Seokjin's familiar flashed through Jungkook, but it was rather odd, considering how different the two were based on his outdated knowledge. Soekjin was an earth witch, different from a green witch like Jungkook—who dealt more with energy—earth witches could literally manipulate the ground around them. Although it was stereotypical to assume all earth witches were low maintenance, Seokjin did carry himself with a very grounded nature. At least, that's what Jungkook remembered. 

"Why don't you tell the others that dinner is going to be ready soon?" Seokjin suggested in a soft tone, but a quick glance at his expression gave the hyper pomeranian the idea that his suggestion wasn't debatable at all. But the dog didn't seem deterred by the command, excitedly nodding its head and trotting down the hall. The soft patter of the familiars paws and nails tapping against the floor gradually disappeared into another room. 

But with the sudden absence of the overzealous spirit, Jungkook so desperately wanted him to return. He didn't want to be alone with Seokjin, not with any of them, actually. The pause between them stretched, and unlike his earlier interactions with Yugyeom, the quiet between them was heavy against his shoulders. 

"Uh, is Yeontan your—"

"What? Oh, no." Seokjin chuckled; the sound was happy, even if he looked a little relieved. "No, that familiar belongs to Taehyung." 

Taehyung?

The thought of the old academy Taehyung, more delinquent than student. The witch who would bite and bark at the slightest hint of coddling, who complained about anything slightly outside of his apparent agenda. Who was too cool for bright colors and cutesy stuff, being paired up with a small, hyperactive, easily enthused fluff ball? Unwillingly, the thought made Jungkook's lip curve upwards. 

However, it did remind Jungkook about the sheer amount of time he had missed. Recalling the soft colors Taehyung was dressed in last night, the way his style had changed from rough-and-rugged to a well-put-together, although easy-going, student. Exactly how much had Jungkook missed from Taehyung's growth? The small, vague smile that had crossed his expression disappeared. A cruel, intimate feeling of being robbed slowly took shape inside himself. Growing vicious, more dominating the longer he thought about it—

"Come, I made Bibimbap." Seokjin successfully interrupted Jungkook's spiraling, even if it was just for a moment. The older witch spun on his heels, walking back into the open kitchen. The space overall was very open, besides the two corridors that led off to the bedrooms and bathrooms. The kitchen was off to the far left, raised a step from the rest on a wooden platform that expanded to the dinner table. The only thing that mildly mimicked a wall between the kitchen and dining room was a long marble island. Then, the floor lowered a step or two and made room for the living room. Two couches rested on the now carpeted floor in an L formation around a coffee table. The space was wide and open, with potted plants and large windows, making the space oddly homey but exclusive. Again, another reminder of how loaded the university was. 

The seducing scent of Bibimap wafted through the space; glancing at the counter, he noted the already prepared namul and signature gochujang paste being set off to the side on the counter; the meat still seemed to be sizzling inside the pan. Which is what Seokjin had hurriedly returned to, back now turned to Jungkook as the elder stirred the cooking meat. Bowls of white rice, another with eggs and other dishes to serve as toppings filled the space. It kept Seokjin distracted, allowing Jungkook to lean against the island counter. Arms crossed over his chest, gaze painfully observing the sight of Seokjin cooking. 

Jungkook distantly recalled how when he released the glimmerkins in beastology—the study of magical beasts—he had gotten detention and a date with the Headmaster, where he was promptly trialed without having gotten to eat dinner. Originally, Jungkook did it purely to prank the new first years, glimmerkins were ghastly little beasts who caused chaos wherever they went. What hadn't been part of the plan was for the glimmerkins to team up on one first year in particular and hang them from the ceilings chandelier. Or splash an entire group with blue eldertwine ink, an ink that was derived from a wilted twine root and was completely waterproof—subsequently staining both faces and uniforms. Or for the glimmerkins getting into the bestiary pens and releasing the Nixalopes and Gryphalos.  

Yeah, Jungkook truly learned the extent of how mischievous glimmerkins were that day. But despite the scolding he had gotten from both the dean and Headmaster, along with his hyungs, Seokjin still loathed the idea of Jungkook going to bed hungry. Which is what had led them to sneak into the kitchens after curfew; Seokjin easily navigated the space, considering how often he volunteered to work cooking duty and made Jungkook a serving of bibimbap.  

Returning to the present, Jungkook fought the bitter feeling of wonder as he watched Seokjin cook. The taunting, daunting curiosity of what if. What if Seokjin was making bibimbap because it had been Jungkook's favourite? 

Jungkook had to stifle both a scoff and grimace. Since he had reunited with the others, he was uncertain which emotion he felt more. Blinding, engulfing anger, or all-consuming sorrow. As if Seokjin could feel Jungkook's burning gaze against his back, the elder attempting to fill the silence with idle chatter. 

"Yeontan and Taehyung seemed to be really close already; I wouldn't be surprised if the two actually formed a proper spirit bond. Though, my familiar is a real cutie too; they're—"

"Is this what we're doing now?" Jungkook interrupted with a badly hidden snarl, distaste and frustration evident in his tone. "Pretend like nothing happened?" anger . The pendulum dancing between hurt and anger stilled for a moment, and like those cheap magnetic knock-offs human kids would get to try and predict the feature; Jungkook's internal pendulum stopped spinning over his anger. The kindling had been lit earlier, and now Jungkook had a fire inside himself itching to burn. 

"Bunny—"

"Oh please, spare me the informality, Seokjin-sii." He watched as Seokjin inhaled at the formal address, and a sadistic satisfaction watched over himself at the twisted expression it earned him when the elder turned off the stove and turned to him. Untying the apron, folding it before setting it onto an empty space along the counter. Seokjin, like always, seemed to be taking his time formulating a response. 

"What was the plan here, huh? Act like nothing happened? Like I just went on a dainty little vacation, and now we can all go back to playing family again?" Distantly, Jungkook could hear chatter down the corridor halt. The others, although he was uncertain on who , had become aware of the confrontation currently occurring. Of course, in an open space like this, there wasn't much room for privacy besides in their own separate rooms and the two bathrooms. Good, let them hear. Jungkook thought bitterly. 

"Although, it seems you guys already did that. How long did it take for you all to get back together? A week ? A month ?" Jungkook's voice was mocking, and although he knew he'd feel remorseful for letting his own anger singe other people, a part of him wanted them to hurt, even if their pain was insignificantly narrowed compared to his. 

"We're not together." Namjoon's voice injected, walking up to Seokjin and standing only a meter or two away. Body leaned against the sink, arms crossed, as he calmly looked at Jungkook. It was those signature, composed expressions that really irritated Jungkook. Because he was feeling it all at the moment, and before him, one of the six causes to all this turmoil and mess, was a man who had the gall to look so unphased?

"Namjoons right, we aren't all together like we used to be," Jimin added, standing by the dining room table with Taehyung. Although, Jimin's expression contorted into one of—remorse? Sadness? Jungkook didn't linger on it. 

"I don't give a flying fuck who you've all decided to fuck or not; my point is that you don't get to address me so casually anymore. We aren't friends; I'm not your bunny ," A sharp glance towards Seokjin, "Or your Kookie , I'm your roommate. Don't call me out for dinner, or lunch, or any other domestic little spiel." Venom laced Jungkook's tone, and he could feel his own magic simmer and boil underneath his skin. He could feel it pulse, submerging some parts into his aura, subconsciously signifying how absolutely volatile Jungkook felt at the moment. He could see the witches in the room react, inhaling sharply or quiveringly. What infuriated him more was that Seokjin or Jimin didn't even have the nerve to meet his gaze. 

After all, Jungkook's anger and pain were the product of their betrayal. 

A sudden but hesitant tug on his finger pulled Jungkook's fury away from Namjoon and Seokjin. One of the red strings tied to his pinky tugged once again until he met Jimin's remorseful gaze. The blonde's eyes were teary, lip seemingly bitten raw, and hands a little restless with nerves. It was clear, but Jimin had a contorted expression that the witch was holding back tears. 

"Jungkook, please , I–" Jimin's quivering, raw voice was cut off by Taehyhung. 

"We're sorry. I’m sorry, Jungkook.” 

It wasn't enough; two words would never make up for how Jungkook was hurting. How he had been left behind , how the unwanted jealousy coursed through him in dangerous, turbulent waves. Threatening to take what little restraint, what morality, he had left under with it. It wasn't fair ; it wasn't fair that even if they didn't have all of each other, they still had some parts of each other. 

Had they honestly expected him to stay and keep contact after everything that had happened? The mere thought made a cold, bitter scoff escape him. Expression twisted into a small sneer, Jimin lowered his gaze at Jungkook's response, suddenly seeming all too interested in the shiny, laminated floorboards. Taehyung, always the prideful one, did not divert his gaze. But the brunette's expression was filled with remorse, a glassiness to his eyes that threatened to make Jungkook feel guilty. 

But the longer the silence filled the room, the less wind there was to fan Jungkook's flames. Slowly, he loosened his hands. Not having noticed exactly when he had balled them into fists. His nails have dug into his skin, leaving red, slightly irritated crescents indented into his palm. The pain, although as cynical as it was, grounded him. Inhaling, the sound of sucking breath into his lungs, only to eventually let out a vulnerable breath filled the otherwise barren room. 

Jungkook's eyes flickered over to Namjoon; the older witch had his arms crossed over his chest. But unlike Seokjin, who also had his arms crossed, Namjoon looked like he was shielding himself while Seokjin was practically hugging himself. It was the sight of Seokjin's glistening cheeks, reddened eyes as the oldest cried unabashedly, that somehow derailed Jungkook from his tyrannical warpath. Because why was Seokjin crying? After all, it was them who hurt him . The only person currently allowed to cry was Jungkook. 

“Jungkook, Bun, Kookie—”

"Jungkook." Jungkook's tone was sharp in its reprimand, but the sound of his old nicknames from any of their lips felt like salt in the wounds he already carried. He hated it, hated how vulnerable Seokjin sounded, how much sorrow and sheer regret was tainting his aura. 

The sound of Seokjin sucking in his breath, gulping audibly as the elder clearly tried to swallow the choked sound of a sob down. Grimacing and contorting his face to control the wobble of his lips, the sight was enough to make Jimin's muffled sniffling more auditable, too. The sight and sounds somehow managed to irritate Jungkook further, the threads tied around his pinky tugging uselessly. The souls inside themselves weakly calling out for reconciliation. 

But Jungkook wasn't going to reconcile. 

Eventually, in the suffocating atmosphere of the room, Seokjin found his words, perhaps with the gentle help of Namjoon, who had started rubbing circles onto the weeping witches' backs. 

"Kook—" Seokjin inhaled, hurriedly trying to amend his mistake at Jungkook's sharp glare. “Jungkook, I’m sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. I've hurt you and—"

"Why?" Jungkook prompted, turning his full attention to Seokjin. Back now turned towards Jimin, the witch's downcast gaze desperately trying to avoid contact with the world. Ah, when had Jungkook's world turned so melancholic?

He had never wanted this. He had never wanted to be so sad. He never intended to spread that sorrow either. 

"Why? Why are you sorry, Seokjin? Was it because you left me?" A choked-down, heartbreaking sound escaped Seokjin's lips. The elder hurriedly cupped his palm over it, hiding his fully trembling lip and runny nose. Eyes squinted with tears, yet the witch refused to look away. Jungkook wasn't sure what motivated him to go on, maybe, in the most twisted parts of himself; did it feel good to see one of the people who hurt him feel even the slightest amount of what he's been carrying for the past six years. Or, perhaps it was also a combination of adrenalin from actually having this confrontation that didn't let Jungkook relent in his sadistic pursuit to shed tears. 

"Why?" He prodded further, voice whispery yet mocking.

"Jungkook, that's enough—" Namjoon tried cutting in, realizing how this conflict was escalating. The sight made Jungkook snicker because where was that motivation when everything was on the line?

"Was it because you didn't even look back? Or, maybe how you didn't even fight it?" He prompted, taking a step closer. 

"Jungkook, stop. Let's calm down—" 

"Hmm? Come on, Seokjin, tell me what you're sorry for. Was it because you knew how much our coven meant to me? Or, was it because you knew how much I lov—"

"Because I failed you!" Seokjin finally cut Jungkook off, voice loud and booming, but it cracked at the end. Raw with emotion, with pure, unfiltered desolation . 

And the gusto inside Jungkook dwindled, and for the first time since, he had been reintroduced to his past. Felt the mockingly familiar pull on the red strings uniting them; the bulwark that had been protecting what little face he had left relented. Hot tears threatened his waterline before falling down his cheeks and kissing at the bottom of his chin. No one dared utter a word; the only sound was the sniffles, hiccups, and weak attempts to downplay the depths of their shared agony. 

It took a moment for Jungkook to find his own voice, shoulders trembling as his gaze turned downcast, too. Gulping down a sob, he nodded.

"Yeah, you did." 

"All of you did." 

Before his knees could collapse under his weight, the heart in his chest suddenly felt miles heavier than it ever had. He turned around, desperate to preserve what little dignity he had left, and retreated to his room. He swayed, tears making his vision blurry as he swung open his door and nudged it shut behind him, the bang unintentional and imposing. In some ways, the bang signified, or rather— felt , like the means to an end. An odd, somewhat relieving feeling spread through him as he dived face-first into his mattress. Arms swinging around his pillow, face pressed into the downy as he finally let sobs wrack through his body. 

Because finally. Finally , he was able to tell them. He was able to say it to them. 

His coven hadn't just left him. They hadn't just misused his trust, hadn't just broken his heart—They had failed him. In every sense of the word, they had let him down to shatter amongst the floor. But Jungkook had time—six years, to be specific—and within that time, had pieced himself back together. 

He'd be damned if he ever let them break him again. 

“Mr. Jeon?” 

Perking up from his spot in the waiting room, Jungkook glanced at the nurse standing by the hallway closest to the front desk. Raising his hand, the woman spotted him quickly, a friendly but stale smile plastered onto her lips as she tucked a brown clipboard against her chest. 

“The doctor will see you shortly; follow me, please.” Her voice was honeyed, but it was something Jungkook was used to by now. Nearly every nurse he’s met was sweet, voice usually soft, not always in tone—but in nature. 

Sitting up from the uncomfortable waiting room chair, he always tried to avoid touching the small cushions patched on the base and back of the seats. They were always in different colors depending on what hospital you went to; in this case, they were a faded pink. But it wasn’t the color that made Jungkook cringe slightly; it was that fake, leathery texture. Of course, he understood why it was that specific texture. They couldn’t go for actual fabric since it couldn’t be cleaned easily; authentic leather was expensive and shouldn’t be cleaned with harsh chemicals, either. Therefore, fake leather was the best option. But that didn’t change the fact that Jungkook disliked it, the texture, and the hackneyed appearance. Maybe it was so because the only time he’d ever had to sit in one was when he was in the hospital.

At this point, Jungkook was no stranger to any hospital. No matter the location, they all worked on the same principles. The only thing that was ever different or mildly difficult was finding the damn floor you were supposed to be on. 

But Jungkook had managed; he always did. Standing up, smiling a timid but kind smile to return the nurse's politeness before promptly following her. 

Hospital hallways were always eerie; he wasn’t exactly sure what contributed the most to its unsettling atmosphere. It could be the pure whiteness of practically everything: the stale gray vinyl flooring, the off-white, sometimes cream-colored walls, the haunting pattern of your footsteps. The sound was hard to explain in hospitals; it was usually quiet, unsettling as one dangled from their own anxieties, but when there was noise, it was loud. 

Whether that noise came from an incessant EKG monitor or the vital sign monitors that practically start screaming when a value is off, to the minute details, such as grabbing a set of gloves from the glove compartments hung against the walls, unwrapping medical supplies, moving machinery around on unoiled wheels, and the constant pacing footsteps of nurses flying around like busy bees. 

But Jungkook preferred that, preferred the noise over the silence any day. Which is why he hated his sessions so much; the kind nurse guided him down the hall before entering a room. She let him enter first before plugging a set of gloves from its respective box before checking his vitals, jotting them down, before giving Jungkook a moment to settle. 

Jungkook sat at the edge of the hospital bed, not yet wanting to lay down on the thin mattress. There was a process to this he had grown accustomed to; first, the nurse would check his vitals, then he’d wait— that following silence taunted him with gruesome ambition. Then, the doctor would arrive, observing the progression of Jungkook's health and determining the speed at which he was actively deteriorating. Then the doctor would leave, and silence followed before a nurse pushing a heavy, modified centrifuge entered. Lastly, Jungkook would dance with unconsciousness for approximately four hours until the Satan spawn was removed from his arteries. 

The entire process had made Jungkook so incredibly anxious the first time he had done it, but his Halmoni had been there with him. Holding his hand, fussing over him, and eventually taking him down to the bakery across the street when he was done, those moments filled him with a gentle warmth because he hadn’t ever asked Halmoni for any of it. They weren’t even related, but the old witch saw something within him that Jungkook might not ever see. But she loved him, and in all her disorganized glory, Jungkook loved her, too. 

It was that very love that prompted him to grow more silent over his festering condition. Why he had eventually asked her not to accompany him anymore because seeing the sheer amount of sorrow in her old gaze whenever the doctor confirmed his worsening symptoms and not the desperate hopes she clung to about his improvement made Jungkook take care of his diagnoses independently. 

He couldn’t stand the sight of her spirit and hope dying alongside him. 

Jungkook hadn’t changed doctors before, but he couldn’t exactly make the ten-hour trip back to Busan for every appointment or check-up; that would be an absolute hassle; besides, he had an illness to cure. He couldn’t necessarily afford many distractions, and he needed to consume what little energy he had left for his research. He couldn’t take time off once every two weeks just to get an apologetic look and poorly hidden pity from a doctor or nurse three towns over. So, Jungkook allowed his primary provider to share his medical history and current treatment plans with this new doctor. 

A knock on the door, followed by a gruff sounding “Mr. Jeon?” Was the only warning Jungkook got before the doctor entered. The woman seemed to be approximately in her late thirties, visible tiredness hanging from the slight discolouration underneath her eyes. Hair tied into a bun, with curtain-like bangs poking out and framing her face. Sharp, pointed ears sported elegant but subtle jewelry, making a bold guess Jungkook might assume the doctor was a fairy. Based on the pointy ears, the natural grace with which she sat down, and the purely calming—settling aura she gave off. 

It was a stereotype Jungkook wouldn’t admit to socially. Still, it was relatively common that fae, witches, fairies, and elves focused their attention on healing and the general health of the magical society. But Jungkook couldn’t necessarily refute that stereotype, considering that he’s a part of it. 

“I’m Sook Geumseong, and I’ll be your doctor for the foreseeable future. I have taken a look inside your medical history and treatment plans sent to me by your previous doctor, Mr. Jee.” Jungkook nodded absentmindedly, trying to snap out of the taciturn mindset he always entered when in a hospital. It wasn’t his fault ; he didn’t want to be here, after all. It was simply easier to nod and drift off than currently be present. 

Geumseong nodded, making a slight hum as she spun in those small half-stools with wheels at the bottom. She typed a few curt sentences into her computer, the soft clicking of the keyboard doing little to put him at ease. 

“Any new symptoms that have occurred within the last two weeks?” She asked, gaze now locked onto his. Suddenly, Jungkook got the impression that Geumseong was a very efficient person.

He nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat as he pulled up his sleeve. There, against his pale skin—an unfortunate side effect from his illness—stood imposing black veins along his left wrist. That morning, when Jungkook had been woken by his alarm and Balam. He had nearly refused to leave his bed; the temptation to hide and sulk within the comforts of his downy fortress was impossible, especially with Balam swiping at his face. 

The freshness of his confrontation with Seokjin, Namjoon, Jimin, and Taehyung stuck fresh in his mind and body. Brain-wracking senselessly over everything he had said, over everything he hadn’t said, or everything he could’ve said. Body, an accumulation of relief, heaviness, and bitterness, and an odd sense of guilt . Because throughout the jumbled mess, he could still hear Seokjin choke on his sob. Blinking, Jungkook could see Jimin's reddened cheeks and raw-bitten lips. And although it had somehow fulfilled him during that moment, Jungkook hadn’t felt satisfied. 

Seeing Jungkook's hyungs, his old lovers , in pain didn’t relieve his own. It didn’t mend the six years spent sulking and healing, bandaging wounds that had just started scabbing over. Seeing his hyungs again, they’ve all been reopened. But yelling and spreading more grief didn’t help him in finding more bandaids or bandages, and it didn't provide him with a sling or crutch. It just left everyone aching, and Jungkook felt so tired of hurting. 

It was the sound of a knock, knuckles hitting against the wooden door, that prompted him to sit up. For a moment, tense and nervous that one of them would enter. Jungkook couldn’t afford to lose the little safe space he had left. But that didn’t happen; the sound of someone clearing their throat was slightly muffled against the wall between him and whoever was outside. 

“I—I’ll leave your breakfast outside. I know you said not to call you for breakfast or anything, but—well, you didn’t eat dinner, so—” Jimins voice mumbled, rambling on as Jungkook could practically picture the blonde wringing out the end of his shirt nervously as he talked. 

It was the short, hiss-like voice of Yoongi that he could distantly make out. “Jimin, let him be now!” 

Balam had perched herself back on his desk, tail swaying as she glanced at the door before back at him. It amused Jungkook because if she could, she’d probably be scowling with a raised brow at their behavior. It also reminded Jungkook that their late-night fiasco must’ve been passed on to the two absent witches. 

It was good to know Yoongi still understood and respected personal space as much as he had done back then, too. 

But Jungkook hadn’t heard the sound of footsteps padding away, only the silence as he anxiously waited for any sound to indicate Jimin's departure. 

“There’s so much I want to say, Jungkook I—”

“Jimin!” 

A pause, the sound of a sharp inhale, and ruffling outside the door followed. 

“Have a good day, Jungkook. Drink lots of water and stay hydrated, yeah?” Jimin finished, the subtle sound of defeat infiltrating his tone before the sound of footsteps told Jungkook of Jimin's departure. 

Once Jungkook was sure Jimin and no one else was in the hall or nearby, he opened the door. Gawking at the tray that stood before him, a small bowl with what he assumed to be miso soup, steaming gently beside another small bowl of rice and a side of banchan. He picked it up, kicking the door closed gently behind him with the heel of his foot. Walking over to his table, he sat the tray down. An uneasy feeling settled inside his stomach, making him subconsciously gnaw on his lip piercing. Along the tray was a folded piece of paper, folded in half, the cardstock material stood up. It was noticeable and a part of him dreaded the message that could be written on the note. 

“Breakfast in your room?” Balam questioned, but that tone of her voice gave hint to her subtle disapproval. It was clear that although she encouraged Jungkook to take his time with handling his situation, she didn’t necessarily approve of his hiding habits. 

Nodding numbly, Jungkook felt conflicted. Somehow, it felt as if accepting the meal would also be him accepting the small gesture of apology. But Jungkook didn’t accept their apology, no matter how exactly their remorse was shown. 

Letting the food sit on his desk, he eventually grabbed the note meant for him. Sitting on the edge of his bed, stomach tied in knots, Jungkook was about to fold the paper open properly when a spine-curdling sight crossed him. There, where his hoodie hiked up at his movements, showed his wrist, but unlike the usual assortment of small blue, green, or maybe purple veins, now stood in terrifying vividness—thick, black veins. The dark lines faded into his palm, most prominent around his wrist and a little down his forearm before fading. They were spreading. 

Jungkook knew what this meant, but it was such a rapid change from two weeks ago. Why hadn’t he noticed earlier? Grabbing the end of his now rolled-up sleeve, Jungkook roughly pulled the fabric back up. Covering the sight, he leveled his breathing. Perhaps it was his own fault to be so caught off guard. He had noticed the gradual change in his skin; once tanned and healthy-looking, it had now grown pallid and dry. That happened weeks ago. The note, now long forgotten, fell beside him onto the mattress as he jumped to get ready. 

Which is how he had found himself here, sitting in front of his doctor, Geumseong, slowly rolling up his sleeve. He didn’t even notice the chill all hospitals came with like usual; no, his body was cold. A part of him wasn’t sure if that was a byproduct of his fear and anxieties or another symptom. Presenting the disturbing sight of black arteries replacing his blue ones. The doctor didn’t need to say much; the subtle, sharp intake of air was enough. 

This wasn’t a good sign. 

“Have these appeared anywhere else?” Her straightforward, authoritative voice questioned. 

Shaking his head, he watched as a small flicker of relief flashed within the doctor. But it was quickly replaced with what he assumed to be pity; they both knew what this meant. 

“We’ll have to double your treatment plan, replace it from every two weeks to one.” Nodding, Jungkook let out a long, tired sounding sigh. 

“You’re all set, Sir; take as much time as you need.” 

The dizziness eventually diminished, that signature odd tingling leaving from his fingertips and feet. The debilitating weakness that would usually follow faintness gradually said its goodbyes and the signature ding from his phone alerted Jungkook to a notification. 

Reaching out to his phone, he managed a weak smile at Yugyeom's text notification. Upon their last meeting, the two friends hurriedly exchanged numbers. Jungkook still felt in slight shock, or rather, disbelief, that Yugyeom held no resentment or reclusiveness towards him. No, it was like he and Jungkook had never parted. 

Yugyeom: 

“Has your appointment finished? I’ll pick you up! Mark suggested we go to Enchanted Brews. The café just opened up, and since you’re in town right now, I thought we could eat lunch?” 

Smiling slightly, the message reminded him of the café visits he’d indulge in with his Halmoni. Besides the old witch and Yugyeom, no one knew about his condition. In some ways, it was comforting to have his closest friend be there for him. It filled him with a fluttery, light warmth, similar to when one would get to bask in the warmth of golden hour. It felt good. 

Somewhere in this cold body of his. There was a subtle warmth. Similar to when the meadows get covered in a layer of thick, frosty ice. Making a once lush field plane, berron, and monotone in its white colors. But then, as the first primrose pokes its head out to greet the warming air. Jungkook, too, felt something bloom subtly within him. 

Jungkook: 

“Just finished; I'll be outside in a minute.” 

It was bizarre, the feeling of knowing someone was waiting outside the hospital for you. It made the lingering smell of rubbing alcohol and sterilizing cleaners escape his senses sooner. Slowly lifting his body in an upright position, he slung his legs over and off the hospital bed. Waiting a moment as if to challenge the dizziness to return before he slowly stood up. Patting down his pockets—these appointments always made him so forgetful—before heading out. Back down the hall, past closed-doored rooms. 

A lingering thought washed through him as he walked—as if the very words he formulated were written in sand. Will I die here—among these sad, dreary walls of white? Although most of his wardrobe consisted of black, Jungkook loved color. The vibrancy of life was stunning, a combination of pure, raw beauty that had no benefit to gain from its resplendent nature. What did the sky gain from painting the heavens? When a bunny hops between the blades of a thriving meadow, what does the grass gain from its rich shade of green? Or the poppies from their dying red? 

Color was a sign of life, and when Jungkook walked along these erie corridors, past the reception with faded pink chairs. A sense of urgency, a need tugged him forwards. 

He will not die here. 

Opening the front glass door of the hospital, a breeze of fresh air fanned his skin. Somehow, it felt welcoming. As if greeting him back to the world of the living, even in its freshness, threatening to tint the tip of his nose pink, he welcomed its presence with open arms. 

“Jungkook!” 

And just as those solemn words were carved into the sand, the sight of Yugyeom, smiling at him from across the street, was like a wave, crashing against the shore and washing them away. 

No, Jungkook would most certainly not die here. 

Yugyeom had crossed the street, a slight skip or pep to his step as he sauntered over. A smile, genuine and significant, was displayed across the witches' features. A contagious happiness that seemingly infected Jungkook within minutes, the usually brooding sickly witch breaking his misanthrope-like persona rather quickly. Yugyeom had hooked his arm against the crook of Jungkooks, leading him down the street and away from the hospital. 

The town adjacent to the university was quaint and consisted of considerably more foot traffic than vehicular. The streets beside the sidewalk are no longer a flat pavement but a combination of closely arranged cobblestone. 

“How’d your appointment go?” Yugyeom asked, breaking their streak of idle chit-chat. At least, Yugyeom considered the topic of his coven—one Jungkook knew nothing about— idle . He was reeling; the thought of having missed the moment of Yugyeom finding his own soulmates left a bitter taste on his tongue and a sinking feeling in his gut. He had missed it . He had missed hearing about their first meeting, had missed Yugyeom's first date, and had missed the day the witch completed the bonding ceremony with his soulmates. 

It made the words of abandonment echo inside his soul, his mind reeling on the fact that, effectively, he was a stranger. Yugyeom had been okay with him leaving, or rather, hadn’t stopped Jungkook from leaving. But the sickly witch felt uncertain how deep that okayness actually went. 

“—Jungkook? Hello, earth to Jungkook?” Yugyeom called out, drawing out the words theatrically as he stopped. Waving his other hand in front of Jungkook's face, successfully snapping the witch out of his guilty stupor. 

Yugyeom, unaware of the heavy turn Jungkook's feelings went, snickered, amusement clear in his expression. “Where’d you run off to this time?” 

“I’m sorry, Yugyeomm.” 

Just like with his first apology, Jungkook watched as Yugyeom's carefree smile turned crooked and forced before resigning to its fate entirely. 

“You already apologized, and I already told you that it’s fine—” The witch began, but a shake from Jungkook's head hauled him to a stop. Throughout their time, Yugyeom learned through the rare times Jungkook would talk to let him express what he needed to before jutting back in. 

“It’s not, though. I’m sorry, I really am Yugyeom. I missed so many special moments in your life; you were there for me. But I wasn’t there for you.” He began, for a moment, not meeting his friend's gaze, inhaling sharply as he collected his thoughts before returning to those clear, bordering eyes. “I can’t,” He began, his own face contorting into one filled with regret. “—can’t change that. But I can promise you now that I’ll be there.” Grabbing Yugyeom's hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze when he finished his sentence. A silent, physical reminder that he was actually there. That he meant it. 

“And I’ll be staying, Yugyeom. I’m done hiding; I’m done running. I want to be a part of your life again. If you still want me to be in it, of course—” 

Jungkook's words were cut off by the force of which Yugyeom hugged him, the witch's arms wrapped around his neck. Momentarily knocking the air and his words out of him. It took Jungkook a moment to process, his own arms hovering over Yugyeom's back. Before the sick witch fell into the embrace, hiding his face in his friend's shoulder—arms snaking tightly around Yugyeom, as if the witch would slowly evaporate within his hold. 

“Oh, Jungkook, I missed you,” Yugyeom admitted, the words making Jungkook's arms tighten as he exhaled shakily. Yugyeom's jacket muffled the sound. 

“Whatever the world holds for us now, let’s face it together again, yeah?” Yugyeom suggested, a hopeful tone dominating the otherwise emotional voice Yugyeom spoke with. 

Unwilling to shed tears in public, Jungkook nodded. Letting out a sad, wet chuckle. “Yeah, let’s face it together.” 

The rest of the walk was subtle and easy-going, the sight of what Jungkook assumed to be the cafe approaching. It had a similar style to his Halmonis bookstore in that the bottom floor was styled differently, the second floor remaining simple and most likely only serving as an apartment. The block the establishment was located in split the road, creating a Y formation where the streets parted ways. The store was, literally, a corner store. A set of two doors, blunket in color, provided entry to the cafe. Adjacent to the doors were carved, varnished wood beams with a deep but aged appearance with two large rectangular patterns carved into the panelling. The designs were growing much darker, nearly black in color from age. Nailed against the wooden beams was a black picture frame displaying the menu. The sides of the cafe, besides the large, open windows, had its wooden frame painted a matt black. Over the entrance doors was a neatly hidden wooden ledge, an extended assortment of vines growing down onto either side of the doors. The bougainvillea and purpleleaf grape vines mingling well with the otherwise green foliage, it almost gave off the appearance that the entry to the cafe was somewhat hidden. The plants were supposed to remain above striped, black, and white awnings; however, the vines had grown bulky and already begun to stretch over the protective fabric. 

The cafe was clearly busy, bustling with customers inside and out. Small, circular tables and woven chairs hugged closely to the outside of the store were already occupied. Entering the cafe, the overpowering aura of magic filled Jungkook's lungs with a quick glance around the otherwise lively space. He watched how brooms swept the floors by themselves, washcloths wiping over vacated desks, dirty dishes collecting themselves and floating into the kitchen. Once again, the sight of such mundane magic made Jungkook's heart swell. Although he can no longer indulge in magic himself, being able to observe it, practically living all around him, felt somewhat consoling. 

The cafe had its charm, mimicking the same aesthetic as its outside within the store. Matt blacks, rich varnished woods, and plants decorated their surroundings. A black, spiraling staircase stood beside the end of the counter. Leading to a second floor, which remained open and covered only one half of the remaining cafe. Delicately designed railings line the open wall. The occasional lamp, chandelier, or lined LED gave off a warm orange light. Mixed with the dominant scent of grounded coffee beans and vanilla, Jungkook knew he’d visit this place more often. Walking over to the counter, Jungkook couldn’t help but smile a little as the fae took their orders. The sight of two large, ivory wings resembling those of a bird. Pointed ears, adorned with hanging jewelry, and pale skin. Within the midst of Busan, Jungkook hardly ever saw a lot of magicals. Sure, the occasional creature here or there. But it was no secret to anyone that magicals preferred to stick together, making small towns like these heavily populated with all kinds of magical folk. It made Jungkook feel strangely at home. 

With their orders placed, Yugyeom and he sat down at an available table. They had chosen a table on the second floor, hugging the railing and giving them a good view of the interior design and general clientele of the cafe. 

“You know, you never did answer my question.” Yugyeom chimed in, having taken off his jacket and draping it over the back of his chair as he settled in. 

Perking up, Jungkook shook his head as he shrugged. “Which question would that be exactly?” He mused, tone playful and a little jokingly exasperated. 

“About how your appointment went,” Yugyeom reminded, and if he had seen Jungkook tense at the clarification, he hadn’t mentioned it. A long, calculated sigh escaped the sickly witch as he mulled over his thoughts and words. Having Yugyeom support him was a bittersweet but heartwarming feeling. But again, Jungkook found himself wanting to spare his friend from the gory details. There was a pause in conversation, Yugyeom clearly giving Jungkook the time he needed to formulate his response. 

“Well, the procedure itself went fine.” Jungkook began, debating silently whether or not to keep his answer at that. But a glance at Yugyeom and a resolved shake of his head, Jungkook confessed. 

“I’m, well—I’m getting worse.” He watched as Yugyeom inhaled sharply, his friend's chest filling with air and keeping it there for longer than necessary. A shaky, broken exhale followed soon after. But Jungkook was stuck trying to formulate his words in a way Yugyeom understood; unlike Jungkook, who had studied Astrobiomedicine for the past years and understood complex medical procedure terms and certain biological cell structures going on within him, Yugyeom didn’t. Jungkook knew from experience that adding large, imposing words to anxious confusion simply made things worse. 

“Jungkook, will..” Yugyeom drawled out his words, looking away at the patrons below them as he seemingly swallowed a lump within his throat. “Will you be okay?”

Before Jungkook could answer that question, he was unfortunately interrupted by two flying porcelain mugs and two plates carrying a slice of strawberry shortcake. Their earlier placed orders floated towards them before gently landing on the table before them; the subtle smell of vanilla and latte, along with the warm breath of steam lightly kissing his face, Jungkook found himself relaxing a little. 

“Yugyeom,” He began, his town a practiced level of clarity and stillness. “Nexus entropy develops in stages. But at its core, it develops when your magic grows unstable. The mana begins to attack itself, gradually becoming more corrosive as the disease develops.” Taking a sip from his latte, Jungkook let the bitter taste of espresso settle him. Glancing at Yugyeom to check if he was following, a curt nod from the witch was all he needed before continuing. 

“Of course, there are all kinds of side effects throughout this process.” A dry, humorless chuckle escaped him. Recalling the restless nights spent in bed, tossing and turning because his entire body ached. Or the times when he would lose nearly all of his energy, spending days absolutely bedridden and at the mercy of his Halmonis hellish soups and regenerative concoctions. The spouts of nausea, vertigo, heat and cold flashes, headaches, the list was excruciatingly endless. 

Sometimes, in his delusional state, he imagined Yoongi sitting by the end of his bed. Hand resting firmly on his ankle, a distant but reassuring touch, similar to how when he had gotten sick at the end of his first year. The stoic witch had feigned nonchalance at missing the ceremony—where the present witches graduated into a higher class—and remained by his side. Yoongi didn’t say much during those times, but Jungkook didn’t need him to. Whenever a cough would wrack through him, leaving him hunched over and wheezing slightly, that red string connecting their hearts would tug, needily, silently prompting Jungkook to lift his drooping head and look at Yoongi. To confirm to the older—secretly worried—witch that he, too, would be alright. 

Jungkook still recalled his sheer surprise as he was startled awake, not even having realized he was nodding off until the door was nearly slammed off its hinges. His soulmates had ushered in, all still wearing their traditional ceremonial robes; if Jungkook didn’t feel like he had just trudged through the moors by himself, he would have smiled at their urgency to return to him. Yoongi, unlike Jungkook, was very unamused by the intrusion. Berating the others for waking him after having just dozed off. Everyone was there, in their tight two-bed dorm room, even Taehyung. That night was spent by six powerful witches desperately fighting the little gremlin that was Jungkook's cold. Namjoon constantly realigning or replacing the cold towel over his forehead, Jin having gone off before retrieving a steaming bowl of soup, Hoseok nudging a pillow behind his back and helping him sit up before subsequently feeding the steaming bowl of soup to him. Jimin was gently massaging his sore muscles, chatting aimlessly since the witch knew how much Jungkook hated silence. Surprisingly, Taehyung had helped with the conversation, helping in his own, reserved way. Yoongi, throughout all of this, had not let go of his reassuring hold on his ankle. 

But opening his eyes, Jungkook would always be greeted by the sight of his white ceiling. The rhythmic patter of rain hitting his windows would never soothe him like Jimin's theatric gossiping, nor would soup ever cure what he has. 

Clearing his throat to get back on track, Jungkook leaned his elbows against the table. “Well, I’m sure you know how mana works. Although it's spread throughout your entire body, it is most dominant within the bloodstream. Hence, when powerful magicals get injured, their powers quickly diminish along with them.” He made a slight motion of his hand, gesturing to his body as he explained their basic biology. Not because Yugyeom was dense or misinformed but simply because Jungkook remembered Yugyeom nearly failing their biology class. 

“When mana becomes–” He paused, trying to find the right words for Yugyeom. “—Corrupted?” He settled on that, waiting to absentmindedly rub his cold thumb over his wrist. “It becomes visible; it turns black.” 

Watching Yugyeom's eyebrows furrow with untold questions, Jungkook rushed to explain. “It’s kinda like when we cast a detection charm, and the magic surrounding you gives off a colorful aura? Dark magic usually has a red or black atmosphere, not because it has gained sentience and wants to appear all brooding and edgy, but because it's dangerous. Spells with red auras are that way because the spell caster sacrificed something to conjure it. Black auras aren’t given something; they take something. Similarly to how the color black absorbs the wavelengths of light.” Jungkook prayed to the gods that his explanation made sense. He wasn’t used to explaining his diagnosis; his Halmoni knew because the doctor had explained it to her for him. No one else knew. Well, besides Yugyeom.

Taking a moment to pause, Jungkook let his friend process his abbreviated explanation. “My veins are turning black because the mana inside me is consuming itself.” Jungkook's magic, his essence, was killing itself. Subsequently, taking Jungkook with it. 

Yugyeom had stilled somewhat before beginning to pick at his slice of cake anxiously. No longer lifting pieces to his mouth but instead gently nudging a cut strawberry across the white porcelain. 

Guilt crept up on Jungkook like an old acquaintance, tapping his shoulder before becoming his companion once more. He had never been able to forget the glassy eyes of his Halmoni, her gray eyebrows contorted and expression low. Seeing Yugyeom like this reminded Jungkook of the sheer helplessness he felt in those moments. Because what should he say? He couldn’t promise a brighter future, especially since he wasn’t sure if he’d even have one. 

But the urge was there, persistent and relentless. Clearing his throat, he pulled the lost Yugyeom back towards him. Unable to bear the burden of those far-off gazes. “Do you know what a centrifuge is?” With a shake of Yugyeom's head, he continued, “Well, it's a machine that basically separates heterogeneous mixtures into their various components. Humans use a centrifuge to separate red blood cells, platelets, and plasma. The red cells are then transferred back to the human.” 

Jungkook shrugged off his jacket, folding down the soft woolen ring around his neck to reveal a skin-colored bandaid. “Something similar happens to me; they take my corrupted blood—” He then moved to scrunch up the left sleeve of his black turtleneck until he reached the juncture of his arm. A bright turquoise self-adhesive bandage, bulging slightly where the wool swab laid underneath, “and transferred the “clean” blood back into my body. Devoid of any mana.” Pulling his sleeve back down and correcting his turtleneck, Jungkook leaned back against his chair with a tired sigh. 

“The procedure takes about four hours.” He stated, watching Yugyeom's mouth gape. The witch had been awfully silent throughout his entire lecture, and Jungkook couldn’t really blame him. He wouldn’t be faring much better if he had just found out his best friend had a terminal illness and then gotten a crash course in said illness only a day later. 

He should be in the lab right now. Jungkook thought absentmindedly, although even his own thoughts were laced with a bit of bitterness.  Meeting with Yugyeom would never feel like a waste of his time, it just felt like something he didn’t have at the moment. He didn’t have any time left to spare. 

“I—” His words choked him, their heaviness preventing him from pushing them from his tongue. He wanted to gag. “In order to give myself time, the mana inside me needs to be removed.” He repeated, frowning deeply. “I don’t really have any magic anymore.” He whispered, blinking rapidly to prevent the wetness clouding his eyes from spilling over. Mana was a part of a witch's soul. They were made of it. To be without mana— without magic , was a witch's equivalent to being a wanderer without a soul. Incomplete. 

Before Yugyeom could shed a tear, something Jungkook now realized was a genuine threat. He reached out, plucking one of Yugyeom's hands and encasing it tightly within his own. He rubbed his thumb over the warm skin, a taunting contrast to his own, lifelessness. Lifting his head, Jungkook locked his gaze in with his friends—a steel-like, determined look and tone accompanying his promises. 

“But don’t worry, Yugyeom, I might not have magic now. But I don’t need it at the moment either. I have enough time till the end of the year, and by then—” An auspicious smile graces Jungkook's features, “I’ll have a cure.”  

A moment of silence, the nonsensical chatter, and gossip of other patrons felt distant, swallowed by a wave neither of them could see. The sound of silverware greeting porcelain, the coffee bean grinder below them, the opening and closing of the front doors. It all felt so distant as if Yugyeom and he were part of a much more melancholic reality. Before Jungkook's running nerves could force the silence away, Yugyeom spoke, “Promise?” 

Now, Jungkook wasn’t in the habit of making idle promises. To swear on something he wasn’t certain about. To lie for comfort was never his style. 

With a nod, Jungkook sighed. “I promise, Yugyeom.” 

Internally, Jungkook hoped this wouldn’t be the first time he’d break a promise.

Yugyeom seemed satisfied with that answer before covering his face in the palm of his hands and sighing dramatically. “I leave you alone once! Once Jungkook.” He joked, pulling his face out of his hands and collapsing against the back of his chair exasperatingly. 

And Just like magic, the tension between them faded into the air like steam. Finding himself relaxed, Jungkook lifted his now lukewarm latte to his lips, sipping on it with a new sense of appreciation. It finally gave him the right deck of cards to be the one asking the questions. With a mischievous smirk, he pointed towards Yugyeom vaguely. 

“So, is that coven of yours responsible for that purple hickey on your neck?” Jungkook asked, tone casual and nonchalant as he poorly hid his mischievous gaze. Yugyeom blinked, once, twice, before slapping his hand onto the crook of his neck harshly. The sound made a few customers glance their way briefly, all bearing different levels of intrigue or confusion. Jungkook's shoulders slightly shook with how desperately he was holding in his own laughter. The heated look of Yugyeom before the witch grabbed their bag, rummaging through it before grabbing a small compound mirror and checking the validity of Jungkook's teasing. 

Upon finding the dark, bruised love bite, the witch flushed. Grabbing some concealer and dotting it onto the spot, he tried to salvage a quick cover-up as he rubbed the pigment in. “And how long were you planning on sitting on that information?” Yugyeom asked a hiss to his tone. It was a fake kind of heat, even if Jungkook wasn’t familiar with it already; the slightly amused curling of Yugyeom's lips gave the flustered witch away. 

Shrugging, Jungkook chuckled. “We were having a moment.” 

“You brat.” 

Jungkook laughed, rolling his eyes as he finished his latte. Yugyeoms feathers successfully ruffled, he could relax again. Watching his friend settle back down, putting away the compact and concealer with a bemused expression. “But seriously, tell me more about your coven.” He nudged, desperately wanting to make up for lost time. 

Jungkook wasn’t exactly sure what caused his feelings of bittersweet nostalgia, the way Yugyeom lit up at the mention of his coven or the fact that the love-drunk witch couldn’t stop himself from gushing about them. Pushing those feelings aside, Jungkook felt himself feel happy for Yugyeom; his coven, a total of six members excluding the witch, sounded perfect for Yugyeom. 

They seemed to make him very happy. 

[btschooseafic]

AO3 Recs

Slow Rain by mangust_d [completed]

Ot7, ot6 x jungkook, jungkook centric, historical fiction, a/b/o dynamics, eventual smut

Jungkook’s parents arrange a marriage with Namjoon, a scholar. And then Jungkook meets Namjoon’s five other mates.

[nomimits7]

Living my Daydream | Hoseok x OT6

This is just a drabble! SO there is no tags to add.... YET

Enjoy <3 

Having a fairly regular day was not a common occurrence in Hoseok's life. Good days were exceptionally rare. If Hoseok really tried he could probably count all the good days of his entire life on one hand. Today, however, was not one of them. Today wasn’t even close to a regular day. It was supposedly the day that would change everyone's lives. Well, that’s what they said. Hoseok did not believe in those words. He never will believe in them as long as he was breathing, which wasn’t long if his calculations were correct.

How can anyone blame him for not believing in them when he was the one who was beaten until he was almost unconscious? How could he believe those words when his own parent stood to the side as their son was bound and dragged from their home? How could he possibly believe those words when he screamed and begged for mercy as he was thrown on the back of a horse and taken deep into the woods by the very people he grew up with? How could he when he was the one tied down on a rock in the middle of nowhere waiting for whoever to accept this so-called sacrifice? It was beyond insane.

Hoseok knew there would be no way that this could change the fate of the humans he once called friends and family. In fact, this would probably make it worse, but who was he to say such things? He was simply the town's crazy daydreamer. The one that could tell when a storm would hit. The one that somehow knew when the earth would rumble and try to crush everyone in its path with flood waters. Hoseok always knew. And that probably would cost him his life.

***

The day Hoseok was born was the happiest day of Na-heas life. Her husband's chest puffed out with pride as he looked at his baby boy. They have been trying for years to conceive and it was a happy accident that the little miracle turned out to be a boy. Both their families would finally get off their backs about having tiny copies of themselves around the house.

They didn’t come from the rich or the poor. They could live comfortably without having to worry about the next meal, but their families had this insane obsession with them having a baby, specifically a boy, that would make the daily proud and carry on the family name. The pressure was unusual, but they never lingered on the idea. Perhaps it was normal in this day and age for every species to procreate as much as possible to ensure their species has a fighting chance to survive in this unbalanced world.

Hoseok was a bright young boy. He grew to become quite a handsome and strong man. The only problem was that he was everything but normal. He developed what his parents called fits. His eyes would become as white as snow and he would not respond to anything or anyone calling his name. The fits never lasted long, but after they passed he would fall into a deep sleep for a few hours. He always made proclamations of either good fortune or pending disasters once he woke up. He once made one about a fire that would destroy the crops and of flood water that would destroy the streets. He was never far from wrong, but even then, the people of the town never believed him. Yet they always blamed him for the disasters.

He soon became the town outcast, even his own parents looked at him as if he wasn’t welcome in their lives anymore. Hoseok learned quite early on that humans aren’t always going to stay loyal like most normal animal species would. They most definitely will stab their own kind in the back for their own personal gain. Hoseok had little to no friends, but he never truly minded. He just kept to himself and tried to blend into the shadows, even if that was impossible.

Once Hoseok became of age, his entire appearance shifted overnight. His once-dark brown hair suddenly shifted to a stark white colour. His brown eyes got a gold flikker to them and his honey brown skin got a slight glowing appearance. He was even more handsome in his own eyes, but the sudden change (literally over night) did nothing to help him settle into the shadows and out of everyones way.

An even bigger change happened around the same time Hoseok had his first big fit and sudden glow-up. It seemed like Mother Nature decided that if the human race didn’t heed the warnings she gave them, which was plenty, she would have to change her method of teaching. The first thing that came was massive floods. They seemed to come out of nowhere. The rivers just started to swell up and the oceans just dashed inwards. Wiping everything clean as they went. Houses, farms, streets even trees did not stand a chance against the force the water brought. The damage was huge but the human population barely felt the loss or they just didn’t care. Next, was the fires. They managed to take out quite a number of humans and their crops, striking down from the heavens. They were just as unexpected as the flood waters, but still, the humans didn’t listen. They took it all in stride, saving just themselves and not even caring about their crops or animals. Leaving most of the defensless animals tied down to be eaten by the fire than just leaving them free of restrain to try and escape.

This made Mother Nature tremble with anger, literally. That’s when the earthquakes started. First, they were small warning rumbles that only slightly made the earth shake, but they soon grew into massive ripples of destruction. This seemed to get the attention of some humans but not all of them. To be honest, the attention was mostly due to the loss of a house or the collapse of a bridge than attention to what Mother nature wanted to say. Soon the winds started to play in circles through cities, dubbed tornadoes by humans, destroying anything in their way. The humans still refused to listen, and that’s when the droughts came. Millions of people were left starving and dying of heatstroke. It became unbearable, even the shade wasn’t a safe place to hide from the pounding heat. The final straw came months after when the humans kept on killing and poisoning their homes.

The sickness that came seemingly out of nowhere took many lives that weren’t strong enough to soldier through. The so-called smart humans struggled to find any form of a cure to try and save the lives of many, but that soon changed into just another way to make money or control certain majority groups. That’s when the sickness shifted. People started mutating and changing into non-human beings. The leaders first tried to tame the new groups by capturing them and keeping them locked away, but that too didn’t last long. These groups were just too strong.

Vampires, goblins, trolls, giants, and shifters were born out of the same race that tried to destroy their homes. This seemed to finally get the human's full attention. Finally, every new and old species realized that there was a sacristy that needed to be protected in order for their own kind to survive. The shifters were given the roles of main protectors due to their ability to become any animal form they so wished. Most of the new species moved out of the cities and into the wild where they thrived under the newfound freedom. They also managed to live with others in harmony, unlike what it used to be as humans.

Things were good. Everyone was happy and could live amongst each other in peace. That was until the remaining humans once again decided to take control back. Well, they tried to take it back. Their eyes were on the shifters, the protectors of every species' home. Including humans. Mass shifter murders took place over the course of a few weeks. None of the other species had any time to react to the mass murders and soon only six shifters remained. Hidden from everyone. Before the humans could complete their plans of total shifter extinction, Mother Nature stepped in. This time she was past the point of anger.

The immortalization of the last six shifters into Elemental shifters was met with praise from all the other species. The shifters have always been respected by all the other species. They were kind and just as they took their roles as protectors seriously. But what the humans did to them, changed the remaining six. They stayed fair to the other species but they were filled with the need to take revenge on the human species. Luck wasn’t on the humans’ side as none of the other species stood for them, instead, they all stood against the humans. This lead to the human population always receiving the short end of any and all deals and trades. They were reduced from renowned technologically advanced beings to almost cave dwellers. Almost like they had to restart from the very beginning.  

That brings everything back to this moment. In the middle of nowhere, tied to a rock in the boiling sun where the sacrifice the humans hoped would stop the misfortune the six Elemental shifters brought against them would end. The humans hoped that one significant, and perhaps unwilling, death would satisfy the revenge the immortals sought. Maybe, the humans could get rid of their black sheep and their misfortune in one go.

Hoseok wasn’t sure how long he has been tied down on the rock, but it must have been long enough for his blood to dry and his skin to redden from the unforgiving sun. His tears have also dried a while back and the reality of what had happened has finally begun to sink in. His own people would rather let him die than seek forgiveness for their wrongdoings. It's laughable really. He was beaten, bound, dragged out into the woods, whipped with what felt like a thousand thorns, and left to die one way or another after his own people danced and prayed around him. The elders even had a drawn-out speech for the Elementals about how his sacrifice was their way of seeking mercy. How Hoseok's suffering was their way of seeking some sort of mercy. Not repenting, no, they sought mercy.

Again, no sign of asking for any forgiveness or even acknowledging the wrongs they have done in the past. Only half-assed promises and lies. Hoseok even doubted that the Elementals had been present during the whole show. Gosh, they probably didn’t even care what the humans did to their own kind. To be honest, he doesn't even blame them for turning a blind eye. He would have done the exact same if he were in their shoes. Even if the thought of becoming as cruel as his people made him sick to the stomach.

It must have been a few more hours or more after Hoseok all but gave up when the sun was suddenly blocked out by heavy rain clouds. The wind, which has been a gentle breeze since the moment he was taken from his home, suddenly grew stronger and more purposeful. The earth gave a low grumble as the heat, that was blocked out from the sun, was replaced with another type of warmth. The kind you feel around a campfire in the dead of winter. Soothing, yet on the edge of becoming uncomfortable.

Hoseok could barely open his eyes, which he didn’t even realize was closed. He suspected the lack of cooperation from his body's side was due to the beating and blood loss he endured earlier in the day. It might also have to do with the sun and the position he was tied down in. He was lying on his back on a big rock, but the thing was, the rock had a slight slope to it. The townspeople really were out to make this the worst experience for Hoseok possible by binding his neck on the side that sloped down instead of the other side. It wasn’t a drastic decline, but enough for the blood to pool in his ears and turn his brain to mush.

Hoseok could only wish for the blissful feeling that unconsciousness would bring, but his body was strong and stubborn. A fresh feeling of hopelessness overcame him as his mind started getting hazy from exhaustion. Usually, Hoseok was a ball of sunshine and energy, despite what the townspeople said or did. And boy did they do a lot. Even if his body is stubborn and won’t allow him to slip into complete unconsciousness, he could feel his grip on reality fading fast. So fast that he nearly missed what sounded like a whisper close to his head. Said sound wasn’t enough to pull him from his hazed state and he finally all but blacked out completely at the touch of what felt like a hand.

***

“I felt the air move,” Jimin said as he twirled around the room with restless energy. He has been at it since earlier and it was starting to annoy the others.

“You always feel the air move Jimin. That is kind of your thing” Yoongi drawled as he sipped on a suspiciously dark drink.

“No, this one felt off. Almost like something is going to happen that’s not supposed to happen” Jimin frowned as he came to a sudden halt before the other.

“I got to go with Jimin on this one. The rumble I felt was unnatural somehow” Taehyung piped up as he took a seat next to Yoongi, inspecting his drink.

“Jin? Did you feel something?” Namjoon asked as he looked over at the elder who was busy watering some plants.

“Yeah, the water seemed restless, and it's increasing. Almost like it's in pain” Seokkjin said as he looked over to the rest. Pain. The one thing their gifts never felt.

Between the six of them, only three could feel when something was wrong. Jimin through the wind, Taehyung through the earth, and Seokjin through the water. Yoongi sometimes felt something, but that was just if any fire was involved. Namjoon and Jungkook couldn’t. Their gifts are two of the most destructive around. Other species usually tried to avoid them. Especially Namjoon’s gift.

“I’ll go see what’s going on” Jimin suddenly said as he all but disappeared into thin air. Literally.

“That kid is going to give me grey hair I swear,” Yoongi said as he watched the space left by Jimin, waiting for his spontaneous return.

“I hope it doesn’t have something to do with those humans. They have been quiet and I would like it if they kept it that way” Jungkook said as he went to the kitchen to find a snack of some sort.

Since the six of them became immortals they lost the ability to feel hungry and sleepy. They didn’t need to sleep or eat like they use to, but they found comfort in snacking from time to time. Especially Jungkook, he was a growing boy when the humans tried to kill them and they were forced to flee deep into the wilderness. They were so afraid of getting killed by the bloodthirsty humans that they refrained from eating too much. The poor boy wasn’t happy at all. They had to restrain him after they found their new place in the world.

All of a sudden, Taehuyng and Seokjin froze. They looked almost pale as the others watched them curiously. This wasn’t anything unusual for them. This often happened when something was wrong. But for both of them to freeze at the same time… that wasn’t good. Just then Jimin reappeared. He looked even worse than the others.

“Jimin…?” Namjoon began as he slowly approached the boy. Yoongi took Taehyung into his arms as Jungkook went to Jin.

“They- their… They were beating up a kid. He has white air and he was screaming so badly. His parents were just watching them take him. He looked so… and they tied him to a horse. It was horrible. Why- why would they do that?” Jimin said as he started crying. They have seen their fair share of cruelty amongst humans, but to hear how parents would just let something like that happen made them boil with anger.

“As much as I hate to interfere with the humans and their cruelty, something isn’t right. Let’s go” Yoongi said as he stood up and made his way over to the window. The rest followed silently. None of them knew what they would find, but they knew for a fact that if it was even a little of what they suspected, the human would surely be up to no good.

***

Off everything that they expected to find it was not this. Their abilities as Elementals granted them the anonymity to not be seen. They always loved that side of their immortality, but on days like today, they wish the humans could see the shock and anger on their faces.

There right before them, they saw how the humans were singing and dancing around a bound and bloodied boy. They were singing words like ‘sacrifice’ and ‘burden’ and none of them looked remorseful for the nearly unconscious boy. In fact, they looked relieved and dare they even say, glad that he was being treated worse than an animal. Just when things couldn’t get any worse, the so-called leader began to speak.

“We pray to any and all Elementals to accept this sacrifice in return for their mercy. Unhand us from this burden. Take it and make with it what you will. There is a so-called place in this world for any and all creatures, but there is no place for this thing we present to you. We humbly ask your mercy and seek your protection once again from every enemy of ours out there” The one leader said. He looked old and somewhat arrogant.

The words were one thing to hear but to see everyone agree with them was heartbreaking. Jimin suddenly gasped as he pointed to two people huddled together with blissful smiles on their faces.

“That’s- that’s his parents. They look… glad that their son is treated like- like that”

“Well then, we are the protectors of all. Would you all say we need to follow these fools back to their village and show them how much we ‘appreciate’ their offering?” Taehyung said with a deep scowl on his face.

“We could. Or we could just observe a bit. Humans love to discuss what everyone else is like. They will surely talk about this poor boy's life. Namjoon? Is he still alive? And if he is will he be fine for a bit while we trail the rest? I would love to take him away, but we might miss vital information.” Yoongi said with a slight hesitance.

Namjoon closed his eyes and focussed on the poor boy's heartbeat. He knew that the boy wasn’t okay, far from it, but he felt strong and stubborn. There was something that felt different, almost like he wasn’t fully human, but Namjoon would think about that later. He would be okay for a few more minutes. Namjoon nodded to the rest. They were going to find out the who, what, and why of this boy, and then they could make their move. Be it mercy in the form of a quick death or in the form of healing.

***

“I can’t believe they threw him out like that just because he was… different,” Seokjin said as he followed the rest back to the boy.

“Yeah, So what if his hair changed? He could predict disaster before they happened” Jimin said as he twirled through the trees.

“Gosh, if they weren’t such idiots. They have no idea how beneficial that could have been. How special he is” Yoongi said as he scowled at a leaf that fell on his head.

“I say we take him and heal him. Maybe he could mean something to us. I already feel the need to protect him from the world” Namjoon said.

They all silently agreed as they reached the boy again. He looked somewhat peaceful as he was lying in his own blood. His body was beaten and broken, yet his face was calm and looked angelic. His skin had a red glow to it as he got crisped by the sun. He was remarkably beautiful in his current state. Which should have been weird for them. They were Elementals, shifters by nature. They should not find any other species beautiful. Especially not humans.

Seokjin looked up at the sky as the rain clouds blocked out the heat from the sun. Jimin slowed down his twirling to a gentle breeze and Taehyung kept his rumble low and calm. Yoongi moved forward to hover his hands over the boy's face while Jungkook and Namjoon tried to asses his wounds without touching him.

“Oh, sweetheart. These people don’t deserve a treasure like you” Yoongi said. He was visibly upset with all the new information that they had learned in the last couple of minutes. They all were.

Obviously, the boy didn’t react at all. Yoongi doubted that the boy could even feel their touches as they freed his bound boy. It was weird to feel care and sadness for a human. The species was known to be violent and greedy. They have seen them kill their own kind with their own eyes. Yet, they never felt like this. This was something new.

“Do you think the humans were making all they said up?” Jungkook asked softly as he helped lift the boy off the rock.

“Humans will tell many lies to make their actions seem fair,” Namjoon said, cradling the boy to his chest.

“If they lied, they are even more messed up than we thought,” Jimin said.

“We always knew they were cruel. They could never prove us otherwise. They are cunning and even if there are some good ones, they will always try to advance themselves. No matter the consequences,” Seokjin said with a sad tone to his voice.

“I just hope this one isn’t any of that. I would hate to waste any of our abilities on something that could harm others,” Taehyung commented. They were all silent in agreement as they made their way to their home.

***

[eclipseaotters]

I really just can’t contain myself and I just have to let this out.

Don’t you think it’s amazing that the ONLY two K-soloists that have topped the Billboard Hot 100 are dating?

I really can’t contain my head around it. We’ve given them a lot of nicknames to celebrate how they’re a power couple—ace duo, Busan’s pride/princes/kings, main pop boy and it boy. Usually, it comes up when they, as a unit, are highlighted in front of everyone. For instance:

My absolute favorite: Black Swan Jikook

The Flying Yoga Run BTS episode

Topping Brand Reputation rankings as #1 and #2

Topping the charts as #1 and #2

I always feel a great amount of pride when stuff like this happens. It reinforces what an actual power couple they are. But god, this Billboard Hot 100 No. 1 achievement takes it to the next level.

I’ve seen dozens of posts and tweets today celebrating not just Jungkook, but Jimin too. And I know, I know, we’ve never really needed all that external validation, but it FEELS SO NICE, doesn’t it? To see non-Jikookers, non-fans, the media just keep repeating how Jimin and Jungkook are the only Korean soloists who’ve reached No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100.

Do you see how hot this is?

And—at least for us over here—they just happen to date each other? Do you see how fucking special that is? It’s one thing for Koreans to celebrate two Korean idols topping the Hot 100. It’s another thing for ARMYs to celebrate two idols belonging in BTS topping the Hot 100. It’s another thing for Busan residents to celebrate two idols from their city topping the Hot 100.

It’s another thing for Jikookers to celebrate that 2/2 of their ship are the only two K-soloists that have topped the Billboard Hot 100.

And as if that’s not enough, Jimin just had to post Jungkook’s achievement on his IG. And Jimin’s dad just had to hold a surprise event today.

Jimin posting isn’t unlike the other posts he’s made for the members. That’s not a Jikook-only event. It’s the fact that BB Hot 100 No. 1 Artist Park Jimin posted about BB Hot 100 No. 1 Artist Jungkook. Doesn’t that give you goosebumps? It’s worth reporting!

I know it looks like I’m inflating Billboard Hot 100 a little too much. But we know something like this means a lot to them. And I definitely think it means a lot more that both of them achieved it.

Imagine them just casually saying good night to each other last night, while cuddling.

“Good night, No. 1 Billboard Hot 100 artist.”

“Good night to you too, No. 1 Billboard Hot 100 artist.”

Because they are.

And all we can do is imagine, because obviously, that’s not the kind of thing they’d share with us. And that’s the best part, you know? They get to be in their bubble and celebrate by themselves, the way they were in their bubble in NYC/CT.

Except now they’re two No. 1 Billboard Hot 100 artists. And they’re probably just eating cake or boxing or doing something familiar—and normal—together right now. They’ll celebrate, and then they’ll just be.

We can all argue our asses off here. And they won’t care. And their akgaes and antis can keep blaming either half of Jikook for sabotage or favoritism, and Jikook won’t care.

[I do believe Jimin was wronged in the grand scheme of things, but Jeon “You know I’m-hyung’s fan” Jungkook is NOT to be blamed.]

Jikook will be in their protective bubble, doing their own thing the way they did in Tokyo, in NYC, in Connecticut, the way they always do in Korea. It’s a BTS thing and a Jikook thing.

They don’t owe us photo dumps, and GCFs, and lives, and Weverse posts, and confirmations of relationships.

It reminds me of AO3 writer unconscious’ description of Jikook in her canon compliant Taemin/Kai fic “this love isn’t crazy” (yeah, it’s not Jikook-centric, and I’m not even a Taekai shipper nor a stan of either, but the description stuck with me).

Here’s an excerpt, from Taemin’s POV:

“Bye, Yoongi,” Jeongguk says. He walks backward, tugging Jimin along, and offers Taemin a small smile over Jimin’s head. “Bye, Taemin-hyung.”

There’s an ease to the way they touch each other: familiarity and laughter as Jeongguk wrestles a bedroom door open with his back to it and falls inside with Jimin nearly on top of him.

Taemin’s not that much older than them, really, but watching them he suddenly he feels older. It’s a deep ache, affection and longing and something else—something in between nostalgia and envy. Was this something he could’ve had? (He said no.) It seems impossible. What Jeongguk and Jimin have is bottled lightning, like everything else Bangtan touches: impossibly lucky, impossibly successful. It depends on that strange insularity Bangtan survives in. They’re in their own world, most of the time, working endlessly but also detached from the larger industry; they have a defensive bubble around them, so their personal defenses aren’t so severe.

Not to discredit BTS or Jikook, but I do think there’s a level of luck that played into it all at the start. Or fate. Maybe they were all fated to meet, but they definitely worked hard to get results consistently.

But maybe, as in Serendipity, all this is no coincidence? I mean, this one gave me goosebumps.

As if it isn’t crazy enough that Hirai Saya looks so much like Jungkook, she just had to be born on the exact same day and year as Jimin? What?

I don’t know where I’m getting at. I just have so much love for Jikook and so much pride for what they’ve achieved on their own and together.

I cannot believe I just went from Billboard Hot 100 to Hirai Saya. Anyway, stream Seven and Like Crazy!

[airblushbts]

Absolutely love this pic!! 😍🥂🫶

New favourite pic unlocked 🖤