listen i might not be a quitter but I AM a complainer. i’m making namjoon proud by being locked in but i’m also making yoongi proud by crashing out the entire time
apparently youre supposed to perform. they love it when you perform. but it has to be authentic. they hate it when it's not authentic. but you have to perform.
being a kid and hearing adults say stuff like "woah 2011 was 4 years ago haha" didn't really convey the fucking horror of a youtube video crossing my recommended labelled "9 years ago" and it's from 2017. that's not true. 9 years ago is 2010 or something. don't lie.
A/N: It took quite a lot of effort to write this chapter properly, down to the smallest detail. I deleted it three times before rewriting it again. I hope it turned out well, because this is the version that finally feels right to me.
From here on, things will get a bit turbulent and eventful, so prepare yourselves.
Also, I want to mention something. English is not my first language, so I use translation tools when I feel unsure. If you ever notice a word from another language or a strange symbol somewhere in the text, please let me know so I can fix it. Sometimes I miss those things without realizing it.
Chapter 1 – Masterlist – Series Masterlist
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Chapter 2
While Jimin and Yuna remained silent, Taehyung couldn’t believe what he was seeing, repeatedly blinking as if the vision would disappear.
It didn’t.
Yuna slowly moved her hand, but the red thread of fate followed her. It stretched, yet it didn’t break. Pulling her gaze away from the thread, she focused on Jimin standing right in front of her, looking just as stunned.
"You see it too, don’t you?" Jimin asked quietly, still struggling to believe his own eyes.
"I noticed it after I finished playing the piano."
Trying to ease the strange tension hanging between them, Taehyung stepped in, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of them and the glowing thread. "Okay… I’m not hallucinating, right? Because if I am, this is the most dramatic thing I’ve ever imagined."
Before they could process what was happening, Yuna’s manager called out her name from the end of the corridor. She flinched instinctively.
"I- I have to go," she said, but her feet refused to move.
When her manager called again, she forced herself to obey, pushing her mind to command her body. She quickly stepped away. As she moved farther down the hallway, the red thread stopped revealing itself and faded, as if it had never existed.
Taehyung stepped closer to Jimin, who was still staring after her. "What was that just now?"
Realizing they were standing in the middle of the corridor, Jimin cleared his throat and turned to his friend. "I wish I knew too, Tae. Let’s go back before someone notices us."
"You’re right."
"For now, we act like nothing happened. We’ll tell the others when we get back to the dorm."
After Taehyung nodded in agreement, they returned to the main hall and sat back down with the other members.
"Where were you two?" Namjoon asked immediately.
"I’ll tell you later, hyung," Jimin replied.
But Taehyung, who was terrible at keeping secrets, blurted out, "So much happened, you’ll never believe it."
Jin immediately cut in. "If this is another story about getting lost backstage and walking into the wrong room, I don’t have the energy for it."
Jungkook leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "No, no, Jimin hyung’s face looks different. Something definitely happened."
"I’ll tell you when we get back to the dorm. Now’s not the time."
Knowing they wouldn’t get anything out of Jimin, the members turned to Taehyung instead, but he casually ignored them and started eating his dessert as if nothing had happened.
He took another spoonful, wearing an innocent expression.
Hoseok couldn’t hold back. "Tae, what’s with that look? You’re definitely hiding something big."
"Nothing," Taehyung said with his mouth full. "Just… fate."
Jimin lowered his head, trying to appear calm. But his heart was still beating unevenly. He couldn’t believe what was happening.
When the gala ended, Jimin scanned the crowd one last time, but he couldn’t find Yuna again. After leaving the venue with the members, they returned to the dorm.
Jimin tried to head straight to his room, but Jin quickly grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.
"No dropping a bomb and running away. Get inside, we’re talking."
Jimin puffed out his cheeks and followed his hyung. Once they were all seated on the couches, curious gazes immediately turned toward Jimin and Taehyung.
Jimin took a deep breath and said it in one go. "My red thread of fate appeared… and it connected to my soulmate."
"No way!" Jungkook, the youngest, reacted first, while the others struggled to believe what they had just heard.
"Start from the beginning," Namjoon said.
"I noticed it toward the end of the piano performance. After that, Tae and I went backstage to get some air, and I bumped into someone. Turns out… she’s my soulmate. The threads connected."
"Who is she?" Yoongi asked. "If she was at the gala, she must be from the industry."
Jimin stayed silent, so Taehyung answered.
"Lee Yuna."
An unfamiliar silence filled the room.
Hoseok raised an eyebrow. "The classical pianist Lee Yuna?"
"Yes," Taehyung added quickly. "She was on stage tonight. Solo performance."
Jungkook was still stunned. "Hyung… are you serious? Like, the actual red thread? The one that only appears once in someone’s life?"
Seokjin crossed his arms. "Are you sure you saw it? It wasn’t some lighting trick?"
Jimin lifted his gaze and looked at each of them. "I’m sure," he said calmly. "It wrapped around my finger. It connected to hers. It was glowing."
Namjoon leaned forward slightly. "And then?"
"Then it disappeared," Jimin continued. "For the moment. But we both saw it connect."
"And you felt something?" Namjoon pressed, as always looking beyond the surface.
Jimin hesitated, just briefly. "Yes."
That single word shifted the atmosphere.
Yoongi uncrossed his arms. "Define 'felt'."
"Not pain," Jimin said carefully. "Not electricity or anything dramatic. It was more like…" He searched for the right word. "…alignment."
Taehyung nodded immediately. "Exactly. Like something clicked into place."
Jungkook blinked. "That sounds dramatic."
"It wasn’t," Jimin replied quickly. "It was subtle. But clear."
Seokjin tilted his head slightly. "How did she react?"
"Confused," Jimin answered.
Taehyung added, "She didn’t really get to react properly. Her manager called her, so she had to leave before we could process it."
Jungkook looked between them. "So… what does this mean? Are you two just… destined now?"
Jimin leaned back against the couch, his gaze steady. "It means something activated. That’s all we know."
"You’re taking this very rationally," Seokjin observed.
"I have to," Jimin replied simply. "We don’t even know if it’ll appear again."
Namjoon’s expression turned thoughtful. "Historically, when the red thread manifests physically, it indicates a completed bond trigger."
Taehyung stared at him. "You make it sound like a scientific experiment."
"In a way, it is," Namjoon said calmly. "There are patterns. Records. Accounts of energy imbalances when the connection is ignored."
Yoongi looked at Jimin again, sharper this time. "You feel fine right now?"
Jimin nodded. "Yeah."
But even as he said it, there was a faint warmth around his ring finger. Not strong. Just present.
Jungkook leaned forward again. "Hyung… are you going to contact her?"
Jimin didn’t answer immediately.
Contact her.
The thought felt heavier than it should.
"She has her career," he said after a moment. "I have mine. We don’t even know what this requires."
Pairing: Idol!Jimin x Pianist!Original Fem Character
Genre: Soulmates AU, slow burn
Warnings: Near death experiences, starvation, psychical weakness, anxiety, forced decisions, saesang behavior, invasion of privacy.
Summary: Park Jimin lives in a world of performance. Lee Yuna lives in a world of precision. Their lives hum in different keys, yet an invisible red string has always bound them together.
During a recital, as Yuna plays with flawless control, Jimin notices it, a faint, glowing thread connecting them, impossible to ignore. In that moment, his carefully measured world is shaken, and Yuna’s monochrome reality, though she doesn’t see the string yet, hints at unexpected possibilities.
For a pragmatic man like Jimin, this thread is baffling, inexplicable. For a disciplined pianist like Yuna, any uncontrolled connection feels like a dangerous misstep. Bound by fate but separated by circumstance, they must navigate the quiet spaces between public eyes, composing a duet no one will ever hear, a fragile, beautiful symphony of secret melodies, dissonant fears, and the daring hope that the red string will guide them to harmony.
A/N: This is the Tumblr version of my fanfiction I'm currently writing it on AO3. You're also welcome to come read it there.
This story draws inspiration from the Chinese mythology of the Red String of Fate.
Masterlist – Series Masterlist
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The glass-fronted building on the banks of the Han River was no ordinary headquarters tonight.
At this event, attended by Seoul’s largest entertainment companies, security was at its highest level. The red carpet stretched from the steps into the building, and camera flashes turned night into day. Fans from all over the world shouted for their idols from behind barriers, while social media live streams received thousands of comments and likes every second.
This was the biggest music night of the year.
Inside, the air smelled of perfume and expensive fabrics. The dresses on the female idols had just arrived from fashion week runways. Male artists, in perfectly tailored bespoke tuxedos, struck flawless poses in front of the cameras. Producers whispered with global investors, while giant screens played promo videos of the artists’ upcoming world tours.
Here, success was not measured by applause. It was measured in numbers, in streaming counts, and in stock values.
"Jimin-ah!"
He turned to see his bandmates weaving through the crowd, their laughter and teasing voices cutting through the din of cameras and cheering fans.
"You’re late again," Taehyung called, a grin tugging at his lips. "Do you even know what time it is?"
Jimin smirked, adjusting the cuff of his tuxedo. "I know exactly what time it is. Fashionably late."
Jin shook his head, pretending exasperation. "Fashionably late? You mean late by twenty minutes. And don’t think Army's won’t notice."
They threaded through the sea of flashes and glittering gowns, joking and nudging each other. Jimin let himself relax slightly, this was a world he knew well, but even here, surrounded by his bandmates, the chaos felt manageable.
After a lot of bickering and teasing, the event finally began. The emcee stepped onto the stage, microphone in hand, and the crowd’s chatter softened into an expectant hush.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Seoul’s biggest night in music!" the emcee’s voice rang out, polished and confident. "Tonight, we celebrate talent, dedication, and the artists who move our hearts across the globe."
The maknaes leaned in close, whispering jokes under their breaths, trying to mask their nerves behind laughter. He let them chatter, his eyes scanning the glittering crowd, cameras, and stage setup, until the spotlight landed on the small piano stage.
The hall went silent. A single figure, perfectly composed, approached the piano. Lee Yuna.
As she sat and poised her fingers above the keys, Jimin felt a strange tingling shot through the ring finger of his left hand. He looked down, and froze.
A thin, glowing red string wrapped itself around his finger. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. But what truly sent his heart racing was the other end. It floated midair, going nowhere, unconnected, untethered, as if searching.
He nearly dropped his phone. "What…?" His mind refused to make sense of it. There was no one in sight; the gala was crowded, but no one near enough to explain this impossible phenomenon.
He remembered vague whispers about such things, soulmate bonds that sometimes triggered randomly, especially when the other half of the pair was not far away. And now his bond had triggered, completely unbidden. That could only mean one thing: she was near him. But then… where was she? Would he be able to find her before it was too late?
He pressed his palms against his face, trying to steady himself without letting it seen by others. Usually fearless, Jimin felt his heart pounding like a drum, heavy with dread. He had only just begun to feel a sense of calm in his life, to enjoy the rare moments of peace amidst the chaos of being an idol. Six years of relentless work, practice, tours, sleepless nights, and sacrifices, had finally started to pay off. And now… this.
His thoughts flickered to his bandmates, his brothers, his constant support. Endless hours of dancing, training, laughing, crying together… could all of it be threatened by this mysterious, unseen string?
Jimin sank into his seat, letting the red string shimmer faintly in the air beside him, and took several deep breaths to regain composure.
Taehyung, sitting beside him, frowned. "Jimin-ah? You okay? You’re pale," he said, nudging Jimin gently. "Did you just see a ghost or something?"
Jimin forced a laugh, though it came out strained. "No… I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all."
"Mmhm," Taehyung muttered, unconvinced, his eyes sharp. "You’re sweating, and you keep staring at that corner. What’s going on?"
Jimin’s mind raced. Could he tell Taehyung what he was seeing? That a glowing red string had wrapped around his finger, the other end floating in the air with no one to connect to? That the universe, or whatever inexplicable force governed this, was suddenly insisting he notice someone far away?
"No, really," Jimin said, keeping his voice calm. "Just thinking about the performance."
Taehyung narrowed his eyes, studying him carefully. "Hmm. You’re lying," he said with a teasing grin, but there was concern underneath. "Jimin-ah you know you can tell me anything, right?"
Jimin gave a small, tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Tae. I appreciate it." His gaze drifted back to the stage, where Yuna’s fingers were dancing over the piano keys, precise and controlled. The string pulsed faintly, as if reminding him that the connection was real, and urgent.
Taehyung elbowed him lightly. "You’re weird today, seriously. Don’t zone out too much or Jin hyung will come over and start lecturing."
Jimin let himself chuckle quietly, though his mind was elsewhere. He was aware of everyone else's presence, grounding him in the familiar chaos of the gala, but the strange, impossible thread on his finger refused to be ignored.
Every note Yuna played seemed to tug at the string, teasing him, calling to him, and Jimin knew, even if he didn’t yet understand why, that this was only the beginning.
The final note hung in the air, resonating through the hall, and the audience erupted in applause. Jimin remained seated a moment longer, letting the music, and the impossible thread on his finger, settle in his mind. He felt the pull stronger now, insistent, urgent, and it was almost unbearable.
"I need air," he muttered under his breath, rising from his seat.
Taehyung immediately flanked him. "Jimin-ah, wait. Are you serious? You’re not just-"
"I need to clear my head," Jimin interrupted, his voice tight but calm. He didn’t want to explain, not yet. Not while the string shimmered faintly, tugging at him in ways he didn’t fully understand.
They slipped through the glittering crowd, without getting seen by the other members, and headed backstage. The lights dimmed here, the air cooler, the chaos of the gala fading into a strange, quiet hum.
Jimin leaned against a wall for a moment, catching his breath. The tingling on his finger was stronger now, and the glowing thread had intensified, pulsing softly like a heartbeat. He swallowed, trying to steady himself.
Taehyung, ever perceptive, studied him with concern. "You’re really acting weird. If something’s wrong, tell me. Please."
"I don’t know how to explain it," Jimin admitted quietly. His eyes, however, were drawn toward a door leading to a narrower corridor. A faint sense of presence pulled at him, something familiar yet entirely unknown.
He took a step forward. Then another.
Before he could process it, he rounded the corner, and collided with someone.
"Oh! Sorry!" he exclaimed, catching himself, only to freeze.
Lee Yuna looked up, equally startled. Their eyes met, and in that instant, the impossible happened.
The glowing red string coiled around Jimin’s finger shot forward, almost as if it recognized its other half. At the same moment, a faint, matching thread appeared from Yuna’s ring finger, shimmering in perfect alignment. The two strings drew toward each other with a pull neither could resist, intertwining midair with a soft, radiant hum.
Jimin stumbled back, blinking in disbelief. "This… this is impossible," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Yuna’s eyes widened as she stared at the glowing threads. "What… what is this?" she asked, her voice trembling with awe and a hint of fear.
Neither moved. Time seemed to stretch, the backstage lights dimming around them as the threads pulsed and connected, sealing the bond that had been waiting for this exact moment.
Jimin didn’t answer. He only stared at Yuna, the world narrowing to the threads of fate now firmly binding them together. Everything else, the gala, the cameras, the applause, had ceased to exist.
For the first time, Jimin understood the meaning of the bond. And it terrified him.
btw it's so fucking stupid you can be anxious physically in your body even after you've decided mentally you don't care. I'm supposed to be in charge here
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