This team’s specialties are intel gathering and interroagtion. They’re also great at espionage.
Wraith: Eerie and distant.
Likes: Silence, cigarettes (they keep bad spirits away) and sleep.
Favorite Food/Drink: Cream of mushroom soup, pickles, vodka and grape juice.
Birthday: April 23
Preferred Drug: LSD
Weapon of Choice: Chains, Kusarigama, AR-15
Car: McLaren P1 (in ghost white)
Quotes: “They wanted me to haunt the living, and for that they killed me first.”
- Wraith’s mother tongue is English. He is also decently fluent in Esperanto and Latin and knows morse code.
- He is Pansexual.
- Due to the odd nature of his Quirk, he was misdiagnosed with several disorders and diseases as a child.
- The conditions in which he lost his virginity were quite…strange.
- Due to unpleasant experiences, he hates cutting his hai.
Nirvana: Sharp and analytic
Quirk: Change of Heart
Likes: Psychology books, dark humour and rock music
Favorite Food/Drink: Asado (al horno de barro), alfajores, mate and hesperidina.
Birthday: February 20
Preferred Drug: Molly
Weapon of Choice: Chakrams, wrist blades, shotgun (Remington semi-automatic)
Car: Jaguar XJ220 (in sky blue)
Quote: “There’s nothing I cannot make you feel.”
- Nirvana’s first language is Spanish, and she is fluent in English.
- She manifested her Quirk at age two.
- The name Nirvana previously belonged to someone else……
- She is bisexual.
- She takes medication (for reasons yet to be revealed).
Omen: Prophetic and haunted.
Likes: Drawing and stargazing
Favorite Food/Drink: Quzi, kanafeh, laban, arak
Birthday: June 8
Preferred Drug: DMT
Weapon of Choice: Glaive, Heckler & Koch P30L
Car: Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG GT (in gold)
Quote: “The only things I can see are the ones I’m not supposed to.”
- Omen’s mother tongues are Arabic and Greek, and she is fluent in English.
- Because of her Quirk, she has a hard time telling the past from the present and future, and often gets them mixed.
- She is heterosexual.
- Her family is very powerful (as in influential)…..
- Omen is muslim and wears a hijab. She describes herself as an “unorthodox muslim” for doing drugs, having sex and drinking alcohol, but a muslim nonetheless.
- Omen is one of the very few that hasn’t kill anyone (yet).
EMP: Trustworthy and brilliant.
Likes: Rube Goldberg machines and Rubik’s cubes
Favorite Food/Drink: Candies, chip butty and soda.
Birthday: December 2
Preferred Drug: Morphine
Weapon of Choice: Wire, computer, game controller, Para-Ordnace P14
Car: Driving gives him anxiety so he’ll just hitch a ride.
Quote: “Technology is not something you command, it’s something you need to understand.
- He has hacked into Scotland Yard and the FBI before the age of twelve. This was to put pedophiles and rapists into their systems and databases. Ha has also hacked into corporations to “borrow” money for charity.
- EMP’s first language is English, and he is fluent in Turkish and binary code.
- He is asexual.
- EMP has a hard time making eye contact and keeping interaction with the “organic” (humans).
- He has a connection with Cherry Bomb.
Anyways chapter three for OtM is up check it out if ya want
Soulmates have different superpowers. Bakugo and Deku work their way up the police ranks together, aiming for the top.
word count: 1.3k
Requested by: anon
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
He considered himself lucky, he did. He knew that being able to hide as well as he could was a blessing, refracting himself with the light, bending it away from himself, becoming as good as invisible. Even if he could hide himself away in the daylight, he was most at ease in the shadows, tucked away in the corners.
Except when Kaa-chan was there.
When he was there, skin glowing bright enough to make eyes squint, heatwaves rolling off him like a tsunami and suffocating Izuku back into existence.
The light from Bakugo was overwhelming and seemingly endless in abundance, never dulling, and Izuku never could get his quirk to work properly when Bakugo was there.
Ironic that the one who shone like the sun, the one person he couldn’t hide away from was the one person that couldn’t stand Izuku the most.
They met at the Police Academy entrance exam, both yearning to become the cities Chief of Police, and rearing to go.
Much to Izuku’s disappointment however, despite their similar dreams and drive, Bakugo was stubborn to the idea of friendship, turning his nose up at every chance he got.
“Hey, Kaa-Chan! Have you heard about the physical training exam? The course looks intense, I heard there was gonna be-“
“Shut up nerd, it doesn’t matter what you heard, I’ll come out on top anyway!”
Most conversations were the same, a repeat of Bakugo’s blunt responses cutting into Izuku’s airy conversations.
Despite that, they never strayed too far from one another.
They became a staple in one another’s routine. Izuku showing up to have lunch with Bakugo when they studied, Bakugo walking Izuku home by pure coincidence.
“Thanks for walking me home again Kaa-Chan!”
“I just live down the same road, don’t get so damn chummy!”
Even after they both passed the exams and became officers; they were with each other. Letting one scream about stupid kids not knowing what the red stop light meant.
“The hell do they think the mans red for?! He’s standing not walking, are they blind?! They’re not the same colour damn it!”
“Yea but there weren’t any cars Kaa-chan-“
“It doesn’t matter! Laws the laws!”
The other giving a silent ear about a shop robbery gone wrong.
“I just… wish I had been there sooner. It was only an old lady at the counter, she couldn’t do anything. I could, that’s my job. I could’ve…”
“Stop beating yourself up about it. You can’t always make it on time… that’s my job.”
“Ha… thanks, Kaa-chan.”
Despite seemingly like permanent fixtures in each other lives, there came a time where they drifted apart.
Izuku’s invisibility not working around Bakugo, and Bakugo’s heat and light increasing to the point of burning his uniform around Izuku was becoming a problem, and they were assigned new partners after nearly five years of sweating, working, breaking and gasping towards their goal together.
Izuku was partnered with a quiet and soft-spoken man named Todoroki, and they got on fine enough. They got the job done, Deku’s quirk stopped failing and from what he’d heard Bakugo’s quirk was working well enough with the outspoken red head he’d been paired up with.
Although neither would admit it, it was… dull. Life was dull.
Walking home alone, becoming transparent unconsciously, eating cold soup with no one to remind you to take the lunch break, the light around you dimming.
It was a silent, the emptiness, but always there, always bringing itself to attention.
Nearly three years later and Izuku was part of the investigative team. He should’ve been ecstatic, one step closer to the dream he’d yearned for since he could dream, it was within his grasp, it was nearly a reality.
So why did it feel incomplete?
As Izuku lay against his tired leather couch, a small glass of whiskey in hand as the only celebration he could muster, the real question forced a confrontation.
‘At what point did it become our dream?’
There was no denying it. The fact of the matter was, Izuku had long since considered it his lone dream. It had morphed into something more, and without Bakugo, the other half of the dream here to take the next step with it, it didn’t feel like the progress was real, like it mattered.
‘The other half…’
With that single thought Deku bolted up from his seat, mouth gaping and eyes glistening.
‘My other half.’
Soulmates weren’t something people talked about often, your grandmother would always scold you and tell you that the more you talked about them the less likely you were to meet them.
It was probably a coping mechanism, a reaction to the number of soul mates finding each other plummeting within the space of only 10 years. If you managed to meet your soul mate you were one of the lucky few, making up less than 10% of the population.
It was his mother who had first mentioned the topic to him, telling him about an aged tale about the Fire Prince and Water Princess before bedtime.
“But Momma, why are they so different?”
“No one knows baby, but everyone’s soulmate has a power opposite to their own, just like the prince and princess!” He couldn’t have been any older than 7, but his mother was a kind soul and tried her best to explain the complex topic of a single bond the universe manifested into destiny and wove into people’s souls.
“What power does my soulmate have? Maybe they… Oh! Maybe they’ll be like a lightbulb!”
She wasn’t mocking him when she broke out into fits of laughter, but there wasn’t anything else she could respond with.
“Oh, Izuku baby, who knows, maybe they will shine as bright as a light bulb and pull you out of those silly shadows. Just like the sun.” Stoking his excitement was a bad idea, parents generally tried to shy away from the topic, but how could she dampen the smile that radiated against any darkness?
“Bright, like the sun…”
He knew he was lucky to have a quirk that could force away the light, make it bounce off him and shy away. He was a shadow, an absence, preferring to tiptoe out of sight and out of mind.
Bakugo was never like that, Kaa-chan was the light, stealing it from the sun and filling the air around him with a fiercely gentle warmth that surrounded you, hugged against your body and beckoned you towards him.
Bakugo was his opposite.
The door behind him barely had time to slam shut as Izuku sprinted to the precinct. The night played to Bakugo’s strengths, his light forcing criminals and evil doers out of the shadows and into the lights of the police cars and the artificial twinkling stars of the city lights. There was no chance that Bakugo wasn’t going to be there when Deku charged into the blonde’s office.
The room boomed with blindingly light in response, Bakugo glimmering at the centre.
“Deku?! Get out of my damn office!”
“Ka… Kaa-chan…” The sprint had left him breathless, but his determination wouldn’t be shaken. Not in the face of the glow that always pulled him forward. “Kaa-Chan, what’s the opposite of absorbing and exuding light?”
“Th- Opposite of what?” His eyes sharpened; lips tightened as he caught on. “The hell are you going on about? Of course you’d want to go on about extinct soulmates.”
“Kaa-Chan just answer, please!”
Maybe it was the desperate tone, the eyebrows furrowed, the quirk of his lips and the slight shimmer as Izuku’s body fought transparency that prodded him to answer.
Bakugo exhaled with a purposefully audible sigh.
“Repelling or blocking it, obviously.”
It took him longer than he would like to admit, figuring out why Izuku held his gaze so intensely, why a lump was forming in his throat, why his uniform was starting to burn and singe.
Izuku could only nod, daring to smile as he stepped towards the beacon of light sitting across the desk, stepping out of the shadows and into the embrace of a human hearth.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Notes: I’m not a BakuDeku shipper so this was a bit of a struggle to write, the prompt was quite tough too but I hope you enjoy it!
character/pairing: Kirishima x Reader
Soulmates AU - Finding their name written on your body.
word count: 945
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It was the first word you uttered when you learnt to read, the first word you memorised, the first name you learnt by heart before your own.
The novelty of saying it never wore off on you, it was a mantra always on repeat, always on your lips ever since you’d found it scrawled across your left index finger.
Finding your soulmate was statistically almost impossible, with nearly 8 billion people on the planet and only a first name to go by. You had accepted that, like most other people, but that fact never stopped you being so fond of it. Stroking it with your thumb was becoming one of your biggest habits, especially on your daily commute to the city.
Your job at the food stand wasn’t exactly the most exciting or glamorous job, but it gave you some extra cash to get through high school with while you studied. Situated only 10 minutes from the Pro Hero Fatgum’s agency brought some liveliness to your shifts though, with the hero and his hooded sidekick popping in every now and again for some Takoyaki.
As you wrapped your apron around your waist and started your shift, you found today to be one of the livelier days as your local Pro Hero stepped up to your stand.
“Hey there kid! How ya doin’?” Fatgum boomed, friendly as ever but just as intimidating.
“Evening Fatgum! I’m good, are you after some more Takoyaki?”
“Actually,” the Pro Hero said with a grin, “Why don’t we let the new start pick, eh Red Riot?”
A young but muscular hero stepped out from behind Fatgum, decked out in red and black. You could almost recognise him, likely from the UA sports festival, and gave him a kind smile as you gestured foods on display.
“Thanks Fat! It all looks awesome, although we had a lot of Takoyaki back at the ag-“
The words cut off from the young heroes mouth suddenly, his stare transfixed ahead of him as you were handing him the menu, now awkwardly standing in front of him.
“Hey Riot, you ok?” The words from his mentor seemed to snap the red haired hero out of his trance, now sweating and glancing anywhere but you.
“I- uh, yea man! Yea, I’m good, just realised I’m not that hungry right now. Why don’t you order, Amaj- I mean Suneater?”
He scampered back behind Fatgum, fists clenched and ready to leave.
You were slightly self-conscious from his reaction; a hand unconsciously going to smooth your hair and adjusting your posture.
“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” You managed to croak, your throat choking you up slightly from nerves. Red Riot still wouldn’t look at you.
“Nah, he’s just getting uh… used to the new patrols. Go ahead and order Suneater!”
With that, you quickly gathered their order and waved them off, although you couldn’t help but feel the your night had been significantly damped by the confrontation with the new hero, replying the scenario over in your head and wondering where you went wrong.
After nearly two weeks you’d forgotten all about it, until Fatgum and the young hero came back to your stall once more for another large order to get their night started.
It was evident that Red Riot hadn’t forgotten about that night as well as you had, with Fatgum side eyeing him and not-so-lightly shoving him towards you at the counter with a sly thumbs up.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, straightened yourself up and once again offered the menu with as much courage as you could gather.
“Nice to see you both again! What can I get for you?”
He sheepishly smiled at you, slowly taking the menu with an awkward twist of his left hand.
‘Odd,’ you mused, ‘what’s his problem?’
As your thoughts ended and the menu had nearly slipped out your fingers, your griped turned vice like.
Your name was on his left index finger, scrawled with the same loops and lines as the one on your own. Your name was there.
From the strangled noise that came from the hero in front of you, it seemed as though you had both came to the same conclusion.
It was barely a whisper, but he heard it, his finger raising from its place on the menu to gently stroke the name on your finger with a shocking delicacy from someone as rugged.
It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Both of you having each other’s name on the exact same place? There couldn’t be a doubt- could there? Could he be your soulmate?
As he caressed the mark on your own hand, you couldn’t help as your focus shifted onto the warmth from his calloused fingertip, the tingle that spread from your hand, down to your elbow. With the thoughts in your head slowing, you felt grounded, yet as if you were floating at the exact time.
It was him. You had found your soulmate.
The pair of you were abruptly pulled from your shared moment as a pair of large arms swooped in and pulled you in, with you nearly falling flat over the counter.
“I can’t believe, little Riot found his soul mate! Welcome to the family little Lady!”
Fatgum was gushing, near crying, over the top of you both as he smothered you into his huge stomach.
You managed to pull your face out to gulp in some air, catching the stare of the young hero- your soulmate, and his bright red eyes.
“Well it’s uh… nice to meet you, soulmate.” He said another sheepish grin on his face.
“Nice to meet you too,” You giggled back, with your heart swelling, “Soulmate.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
perpetual [read on AO3]
Her breathing wasn’t right.
Every night Shouta stopped at Eri’s door and watched her sleep for a moment—it was less for her and more for his own selfish comfort. The constant hum in his chest settled a little when she was in his sight, safe.
Most days she breathed steadily, and Shouta closed his eyes and breathed with her.
It was different today. Unsteady and fast.
Shouta knocked against the open door to see if she would respond, pausing before striding across the threshold. He usually didn’t enter without her permission, but now he took three quick strides across the room to stand by her bed.
His voice was both too quiet and too loud at once. Eri twisted in her sheets, one hand clutching her blanket tightly. Her eyes were shut tightly. A nightmare. He’d have to be careful.
A part of him seemed to sigh. He always felt tired, and more tired.
She stirred, but didn’t wake. Careful, Shouta reached his hand and placed it gently where the blanket met her shoulder, and said her name again.
Her eyes shot open. He had little warning but activated Erasure on instinct, and Eri made a soft whimpering sound he never wanted to hear again. After a moment she turned, vision clearing, to look at him; Shouta let go.
“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I didn’t want to do that.”
She shook her head silently, then peered up at him. Shouta reached over and found the lamp on her bedside table, flipping it on and letting the warm light wash over the both of them.
Eri dropped her gaze. She was quiet, sometimes completely silent, but that was okay. Shouta was learning to read her well enough, and they were working on learning a few simple hand signs in case she didn’t want to speak.
“Yes,” Eri said finally, staring at her blanket. Relief poured through him.
When it looked like she wasn’t going to say more, Shouta slid his hand across the bed, uncurling his fingers loosely and leaving it as an invitation. She reached for him, hesitated, and then took it.
“You’re alright,” Shouta said. He’d said these words time and time again—to her, to Hizashi, to all of his kids, to himself. He squeezed her hand gently. “It’s alright, Eri.”
Then, just to be sure, he said, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I’ll listen if you’d like to.”
She shook her head. “…No.”
“That’s okay.” He paused, running through his tired thoughts, then asked, “Do you want me to stay?”
It was as simple as that. She’d asked him to stay, so he would.
After a few minutes Eri slipped across the bed, still clutching his hand, and then curled up into his side. Shouta lifted his arm obligingly and settled it across her shoulders while pressing down—the weight, he thought, was grounding, comforting.
“I… I dreamed you were gone,” Eri said.
He swallowed hard. Something in his chest twisted.
“I’m not,” Shouta tried, and her grip on his hand tightened. “I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to, kid.”
She was so small, tucked against him. A sliver of pale moonlight in the darkness. A shell half-buried in the sand, glimmering faintly.
But she didn’t continue.
“I get scared a lot,” he told her gently, then felt himself smile, “if you’d like to know a secret, Eri, I’m scared all the time.”
She drew in a breath; he felt it through the fabric of his shirt, their ribs pressed together. Shouta followed, taking a breath.
Shouta knew fear well—they were old friends, well-acquainted. Only one person knew him as well as fear knew him; the ugly parts, the nights where Shouta had to walk the length of the dorms and back on every floor, the empty, the aching, the lonely.
“What,” she said, and paused again, wondering if she was allowed to, “what are you scared of?”
“A lot of things,” Shouta said. “If I told you all of them we’d be here all night, and all morning, and all night and morning again.”
Her mouth curved upward slightly—just at the corners, but the hum in his chest settled further. She blinked up at him, waiting, and Shouta thought not to make her laugh but to share with her what it was like, for him.
Then he thought she must have already known. They were alike.
“I’m always waiting for something to happen,” he admitted, “for something to go wrong. Always preparing. But I’m scared I won’t be able to do anything, and I’m not always sure something will happen. I want to be needed. I don’t know what I’d do if I wasn’t—but I also don’t want to be needed, because that means someone is hurting that doesn’t have to.”
She thought about that for a moment.
“Do you have nightmares?”
Shouta was never one for lying, not even to kids. Kids, he’d always thought, were the ones who deserved the truth the most. The answer stayed bitter on his tongue for a moment.
Then he said, “Yes.”
“Oh,” Eri said quietly. She wrapped her free arm around herself.
“If it’s worth anything,” Shouta told her, “I really don’t want to lose you, either.”
“Oh,” Eri said again.
Like the thought hadn’t occurred to her.
He wanted to hold her so badly his ribs ached. He wanted to curve his body around hers, the way he was used to, until the only thing that existed was the little space between them and their quiet breathing. He wanted to break himself into pieces and offer each one up if it meant she’d never have a nightmare again. If it meant she would know how much she meant.
“I want to be here,” he said, “I want you to be here, with me, do you understand, Eri?”
Shouta didn’t know how else to say it. How much softer he could speak.
Eri’s mouth trembled. She pressed tighter against him, and then he lifted his other arm and she threw herself forward into them. She was so small in his arms, almost breakable.
He leaned down and pressed his cheek to her hair. Eri didn’t cry, but she took his shirt in her hands and held on tightly as he folded his arms around her small body. For a while they stayed there; every time Shouta thought to draw away he told himself, just a little longer, just a little longer.
“You can tell me to go if you need me to,” Shouta told her, and felt her hand flatten against his chest; lifted his head so they could look at each other as she felt his heartbeat under her fingers, steady and slow.
“I need you here,” she said, eyes clear; and Shouta thought he’d wanted to hear that, too. To want, to be wanted, to be needed.
“I think I can do that,” Shouta said.
- Todoroki + architecture
can’t see him as much of an artist, but considerin’ his ability to furnish/enhance a plain space makes it kinda apparent,,
- Aoyama + Culinary arts
i see him aspiring to be a pastry chef in specific.
- kyoka + music technology/audio production
self explanatory, ya.
- Ashido + mass communication
she can be an amazing interviewer and would be great on camera as well, you can’t convince me otherwise-
- denki + modern languages
considering his surprisingly large vocab, i as well see him as a pretty badass writer, heavy reader and someone who’s interested in languages
- Kirishima + physical education and Kinesiology
Denki Kaminari x Reader
AU’s: Soulmate tattoo au, college au
Warnings: Manipulation, loss of friendship, angst on Jirou’s part, fluff on your part :) i didn’t know which character to follow and keep switching lolol
Summary: You and Jirou are best friends, but everything changes when Jirou realizes you and her crush, Kaminari, share soulmate tattoos. She tries her best to keep you apart…
A/N: Literally I haven’t STOPPED thinking of this request since it came in however long ago. I sat down and wrote it and lowkey didn’t realize how long it got haha. Lol why all the hate on Jirou my dude? XD
You and Jirou have been best friends through thick and thin. From elementary school to U.A, you’ve been together to experience all of life’s biggest moments. You were there when Jirou nailed her first gig, you both took pictures together at all of your homecoming dances, and you’ve taken more road trips together than you’d care to count.
It was no surprise to either of your families when you decided to dorm together at the same university. Some friends find that when they become roommates that their living habits are incompatible; not you and Jirou. With everything you’ve been through together, you regarded her more of a sister than a friend.
Jirou trusted you with all of her insecurities, and you trusted her with all of your secret thoughts. You knew that soulmates existed, but never would you have thought you’d be lucky enough to organically find an additional best friend soulmate! You often joked with her about it: “What if we actually secretly have the same tattoo and we never knew?” You’d both laugh, knowing how ridiculous that would be.
Soulmate tattoos only develop after you’ve first interacted with your soulmate, and seeing as you and Jirou have known each other for most of your lives, you both knew that the joke held no weight. However, this did mean that the both of you had a very real chance of never meeting your soulmates or seeing your tattoos develop. It was a sad thought, but a reality that many people face. But you both were still young and in college, and you were hopeful that you had plenty of time.
Even if you did never find your one true soulmate, you knew you at least had a friend like Jirou who you could live your life with. There was no one else in the world you’d rather spend time with, and you knew if and when your actual soulmate came along that they’d have to learn to share.
Truthfully, you were more in love with the idea of soulmates than Jirou. Where you tended to hold what people would call ‘hopelessly romantic fantasies,’ Jirou considered herself a realist and didn’t mind the idea of finding love that wasn’t divinely ordained. It was a growing practice to date without tattoos, and over time the importance of them seemed to lose its touch. Still, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to give your prospective soulmate some time before you give up on it.
The universe, however, always was a lover of irony! Just your luck that Jirou was the one looking to date but you were always the one getting hit on. You knew it frustrated her, though she would never say. You knew, and while you did your best to hide it, you couldn’t help feeling excited each opportunity a tattoo might develop only to feel disappointed when it never showed. You were both luckless in love, but you were luckless together, and that made it a little better.
That was, until Jirou met some guy majoring in computer science named Denki Kaminari. You’ll never forget her face when she got home that night; she was all grins, and you couldn’t help but tease her about it. You were excited for her, you truly were! She had sat across from you on your bed while she told you all about how they had sat next to each other in a math class.
You watched her lips twitch up as she described how he cracked jokes at her throughout the class while she struggled to stifle laughs. Finally, she told you that they were going to hang out the following night, and you screamed while giggling as if you were little kids again.
You helped Jirou pick out the right outfit, sitting on your bed while she tried on clothes for you. You helped straighten her hair while she carefully drew on a thin line of eyeliner. And then, like a parent sending their daughter off, you waved her out the door in your sweatpants and slippers.
Eventually, one hang out turned into many, and Jirou confessed to you that they had become rather good friends. You remember feeling a little disappointed. “Only friends?” you had asked her while she nodded her head. But, she assured you that she was happy about just being friends with Kaminari. And with a warm smile, you believed her.
After a month, stories of the mysterious Denki Kaminari were no longer satisfying. “Jirou!” you practically pounced on her when she came home from her music theory class. “Take me to lunch with you! I wanna meet your friend!”
Jirou looked at you, and though her eyebrows furrowed slightly, she could find no excuse not to agree. Playing with her earlobe, she nodded her head. “Uh, sure! I’m leaving now, though, I just came to drop off my bag. Are you sure you’re ready?”
Hopping away from her, you scrambled to throw on your shoes and fix your hair. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready!” you reassured her, grabbing your keys and your phone. Looping your elbow around hers, you grinned. “I can’t wait to meet your friend! You talk about him so much.”
Jirou nodded, walking with you across campus to the cafeteria she agreed to meet him at. As you walked, you asked her how her class was; you let her speak even though you had no idea what sort of musical things she was talking about.
Finally reaching the cafeteria, you followed Jirou in and scanned the tables, trying to pick out Kaminari based on the description Jirou had rehearsed to you all those times. “There,” you heard Jirou say before she stepped past you. You followed her quickly, peeking around her back to finally see with your own eyes who this famous friend was.
Your eyes caught his hair first; it was a golden yellow, a bright color that fit the wide grin on his face. Reaching the table, you couldn’t help but inhale sharply. The boy was devilishly handsome, and Jirou’s words had not done him enough justice.
“Hey Jirou!” Kaminari drew out his greeting, standing up to give her a sideways hug. You couldn’t help but chuckle as she got embarrassed and shoved him off her. You could tell that in the time they’ve known each other that they’ve gotten close. “Who’s this?” Kaminari was the one to bring you up, and you gasped.
“Oh! Right, sorry,” you apologized, smiling. “I’m (Y/n), Jirou’s friend. Sorry for intruding on your lunch, I hope you don’t mind!” You stuck your hand out to shake his, and when your skin touched you swear the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.
He held your hand a little longer before letting it go, his smile meeting his eyes. “Not at all!” he said warmly. “Especially not someone as cute as you! Jirou, you should bring your friends along more often!” You laughed, a little bashful, before taking your seat. Jirou only rolled her eyes, choosing to sit across from you next to Kaminari.
“So you can hit on all of them? Yeah, gross, stay away,” Jirou spoke, causing both you and Kaminari to laugh.
“Ouch, didn’t know you were so protective of them,” Kaminari feigned hurt. “I’m not that bad, am I?” His eyes were teasing.
Jirou tched, smirking slightly. “Oh, you’re the worst.”
Before you could feel too awkward and left out, Kaminari turned back to you. “So (Y/n)! What’s your major?” You told him, and continued the conversation with a few questions of your own. You both got to know each other rather well, and after only a few minutes of talking you realized why Jirou liked hanging around with him so much.
You were talking so much that your throat was beginning to get dry. You didn’t notice how much time had gone by, talking with Kaminari was just so easy. Suddenly Jirou cut into the conversation. You had almost forgotten she was there. “(Y/n), don’t you have class starting soon?”
You blinked, and a quick glance at your phone had you scrambling to collect your things. “Crap, thanks Jirou!” you said, grabbing your bag from the floor. “Kaminari, it was lovely to meet you! We should all hang out again soon.”
Kaminari smiled, a look of amusement on his face as you quickly grabbed your keys and phone from the table. “Denki works fine. And totally! Before you go, take my number.” You exchanged contact information, too busy rushing to notice the look Jirou had on her face. Waving goodbye to both of them, you hurried to class.
Nothing could have prepared you for what happened the next day.
“JIROU!!!!” you screamed from the bathroom. Jirou practically fell out of her bed, reaching the bathroom just as you opened the door. Steam from your shower leaked out from the bathroom into your bedroom. You held a white towel around your body, your hair still coated in shampoo.
“What, what happened?!” Jirou asked, worried. You had a strange expression on your face, wide eyes and a slight flush to your cheeks. With a trembling hand, you lifted your arm to reveal a small design on your wrist. Jirou’s heart seemed to jolt violently as her eyes traced the tiny outline of a lightning bolt on your skin. “I-Is that…?” she couldn’t seem to finish the question.
“Yes!” you screamed again, laughing. Despite the wet towel covering your body, you gave Jirou a tight hug which she returned. Excitedly jumping together, you gushed for a few moments over the tattoo before Jirou forced you to finish your shower.
Once she heard the water go back on, Jirou let her face fall. It couldn’t be because you met Denki yesterday, was it? The universe would have to be cruel to pair you with the one person she’d managed to fall in love with. “No,” she reassured herself with a hushed voice. “(Y/n) had a class yesterday where they met tons of new people. With 50 people in there, it’s much more likely that they met their soulmate there.”
Jirou sat back down on her bed, reasoning with herself as she waited for you to finish showering. She rehearsed that same line over and over in her head so that she could tell you it when you got out again. You met them in your class. You met them in your class.
That night, Jirou was getting ready to leave. You watched as she threw on a hoodie and slid on the converse she had converted into slip ons. “Where are you off to?” you asked curiously. “Going to see Denki?” Jirou didn’t miss the way your voice raised with interest at his name.
With her back to you, you didn’t see the way she rolled her eyes. “No,” she said casually. “Just going to the music practice room again.” She peeked back to see you nod your head and reimmerse yourself into the Netflix show playing on your laptop. Releasing a small, relieved sigh, Jirou left before you could ask any more questions. It wasn’t that she liked lying to you, but she couldn’t help but feel irritated about how chummy you and Denki have gotten recently. The fact that you developed a soulmate tattoo didn’t help either. Besides, he had texted her specifically to come over, not you. She was excited for some alone time with him.
Walking down the familiar path to his dorm building, Jirou let the cool air calm her worries. Trying to reassure herself, she made her way up to Denki’s room and knocked on the door. She barely finished before the door swung open and he pulled her in. “Denki, what?!” Jirou cried, startled.
“Thank goodness you’re finally here, Jirou! You walk like a grandma!” Kaminari said jokingly as he closed the door.
Jirou snorted, her heart warming. Right now, it felt like it did before she introduced you to Denki. Just the two of them in his room, joking around. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” she said, taking a seat on the beanbag that she’s come to love. “So what’s with the urgent texting?” she prodded, a teasing smile forming on her face. “Forgot the notes in class again?”
Kaminari scoffed, crossing his arms with a smile. “No,” he said. “That was one time… okay maybe two. But, no, I texted you because of this!” Jirou felt her heart shatter before Denki even rolled up his sleeve all the way. No way. There was no way. But, the ink didn’t lie. There, on his wrist, was the same small lightning bolt that Jirou had seen that afternoon on your skin.
Jirou swallowed the heartbreak in her throat, keeping a calm face. “You got a soulmate tattoo?” she asked softly. Denki nodded his head enthusiastically.
“Can you believe it!? These are like… super rare now! I swear, I thought I was gonna go my whole life without ever meeting my soulmate. But look!” Jirou didn’t want to look. “That means they’re here on campus somewhere. I interacted with them! Can you believe it?”
Jirou could only manage to nod her head, but it seemed enough for Denki who was dominating the conversation.
“Jirou,” Denki said, his smile audible in his voice. “What do I do? I have no idea what to do!” Jirou’s heartbeat was pounding in her ears. She took a few seconds before she started to answer, willing the tears in her eyes to stay put.
“Well, Denki…” she started, and at the serious tone in her voice he quieted. “It’s not really popular anymore to have a soulmate.” The venom in her words was hidden perfectly, and he didn’t seem to pick up on it as he slowly spoke.
“What are you saying?” he asked, the excitement gradually dying in his voice.
Jirou couldn’t help the words coming from her mouth. “It’s out of fashion, Denki. People are going to think you’re shallow if you wave that around.” Seeing the pain spark in his eyes, Jirou swallowed. “Most people just ignore it and date whoever, you know?”
Denki was silent, tracing one finger over the mark on his wrist gently. “I mean,” Jirou continued, “you could keep it but… I really wouldn’t. Here, let me help you hide it.” Denki still didn’t say anything as Jirou began to dig the foundation out from her bag.
Bringing the chair closer to Denki’s, Jirou gingerly grabbed his hand and began to blot away the small tattoo. The concealer was slightly off color, but it was enough to do the trick. Satisfied with her work, she tried to calm the pounding of her heart. “S-See?” she spoke, breaking the silence. “Just like normal.”
“Yeah,” Denki mumbled finally. Jirou didn’t like seeing him this dejected, but she knew that it had to be done. She knew she could make him happy if he just… noticed her.
“I know what’ll cheer you up,” Jirou offered. Denki lifted his head slightly, eyes dull. “I’ll play a movie. You know… like old times!” Getting no yes or no from Denki, Jirou put a movie on while he sat on his couch. Turning off the lights, Jirou grabbed a blanket and plopped down next to him. As the movie played, she noticed how he kept glancing down at the covered tattoo on his wrist. With a dash of annoyance, Jirou curled up closer to him. He’ll forget about it, she knew. He’ll have her, and he’ll forget all about you before he ever got the chance to know you.
After that day, Jirou tried to keep you from Denki as best as she could. She was the only one who knew about both of your tattoos, so as long as neither of you found out, she should be able to get away with it. She’d ask you about different classmates to throw you off. “Did he have the mark?” “No…” “Maybe it was that other classmate then!” And for a while, this seemed to work… on the surface.
No doubt you were becoming exasperated about finding your soulmate. You retraced your steps many times, but still, you couldn’t find them! As for Denki, Jirou could tell that he was still thinking about his mark. He tried to be present whenever they hung out, but his mind always seemed to drift. The worst part was when you asked about one other. “When will I see Denki again?” “Is (Y/n) gonna be there?” Gosh, it was insufferable! You only met one time and it’s like you’re already in love!
Having enough of it, Jirou devised a plan. While you were out at class, she walked to your desk and borrowed one of your black sharpies. Carefully with the thin tip, Jirou traced out the delicate shape of a lightning bolt on her wrist. You flaunted it around enough where she had a pretty good mental image of it.
Satisfied with her work, Jirou capped the pen and rubbed at it to make sure it was set in place. Reaching for her phone, Jirou texted Denki. We need to talk. I’ll be over in 5 minutes. She was already halfway to his place when he finally replied with a simple ‘okay.’ Knocking on his door, Jirou invited herself in the instant it opened.
“Are you okay?” Denki asked, concerned. Jirou said nothing, only walking to the center of the room before turning to face him.
“Denki,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t reveal it sooner but… I was worried about ruining our friendship.” Silently, she raised her wrist to reveal the forged tattoo. Denki watched, eyes widening as they landed on the small lightning bolt.
He went to speak but Jirou quickly cut him off. “I know I told you to cover yours up but honestly… I was dumb. I was scared. But I’m not scared anymore and I’m ready to be with you. We’re soulmates, Denki…” Jirou smiled nervously. “We’re meant to be together!”
Denki was speechless, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ahh, wow, Jirou,” he said finally, an awkward chuckle falling from his lips. “I-I… I don’t know what to say.” Jirou felt her nerves wrack through her.
“You don’t have to say anything. We can just… continue like we were! We were practically dating anyways…” At this, Denki seemed to jump, startled. Jirou’s mouth went dry.
“W-Woah woah woah,” Denki defended himself quickly, waving his hands in front of him. “We weren’t dating before… b-besides, Jirou. I’m flattered, really but… I… I already have a date with (Y/n) in a bit.”
Jirou stopped breathing for a moment. “W-What?” Jirou had forgotten that you both exchanged numbers… did that mean you both had started to hang out without her? Wait… no. He didn’t know about your tattoo, there was no way. “Can’t you cancel? Denki, look at my wrist!”
Denki sighed, the nervous smile falling from his face. “Jirou, look. Weren’t you the one who said that soulmates didn’t mean anything anymore? Well… maybe you’re right. The truth is, you’re a good friend! But, soulmate or not, we just don’t… have chemistry like that. I’m sorry. Please don’t make this worse than it has to be.”
Jirou couldn’t move. Her brain seemed to stop firing completely at his words. After a moment of waiting for a response, Denki sighed. “I’m sorry. But, uh… I actually have to go meet (Y/n) so…” he checked his watch. “I don’t wanna rush you, so just lock the door before you leave? …text me later. We can talk more later if you need.”
And then, just like that, he was gone through the door. Jirou’s hands fell limp at her sides, staring where Denki once stood. She felt her knees buckle before she hit the ground, a silent sob rippling through her. Angrily, she scrubbed raw at her wrist, only barely smudging the ink. Her phone buzzed tauntingly, your name lighting up her screen like salt to the wound. Vision blurred with tears, she blocked your call.
“Aww man, Jirou!” you hissed under your breath at the sound of her voicemail, pulling the phone from your ear. With a sigh, you set the phone on your lap, your legs swinging gently off the bench. Right now, you could have used a word or two or encouragement from your friend.
Sure, you knew you hadn’t told her about the date yet, but were you really at fault? Jirou had grown oddly distant recently, and you barely had a chance to speak to her these days. She was always running off to the practice room, though you had a feeling she may have been lying a few times about it.
At first she’d been happy to help you find your soulmate, helping you pick out which guy to investigate. But once you ran out of classmates, she seemed to abandon the search all together! You could only think of one other person… the boy who you were currently waiting to meet on the campus bench.
You and Denki had been texting ever since you exchanged numbers, though this was going to be the first time you saw each other since your first meeting. It seemed rude to hang out together without Jirou, but by now your curiosity had overcome your sensitivity. All you had to do was look at his wrist. You just had to know…
“(Y/n)?” you heard a voice call your name, and you looked up to see none other than Denki Kaminari walking towards you. He seemed a little on edge, but one flash of your smile and he seemed to relax completely.
“Denki! Hey! Good to see you again,” you chirped, standing up to give him a hug. Though this was technically only your second meeting, you felt as though you practically knew him already from all of your late night conversations.
His arms hung around you for a little longer than an ordinary hug would have lasted, but you liked the way it felt nonetheless. Pulling away, your smile softens a bit. “So…” you start slowly, your voice adopting a tone of apology. “This may seem a little strange or old-fashioned…but I think it’s worth a shot.”
You watched Denki’s expression carefully, his eyes willing you to continue. You bashfully played with your thumbs. “Do you… do you think I could see your wrist?” You watched his eyes widen, and immediately fear you overstepped a boundary.
“A-Ah,” you stutter, quickly back-tracking. “I swear I’m not a weirdo, it’s just–!! Here, look.” Without a question, you push up your sleeve and offer your wrist to him, revealing the small thunderbolt tattoo.
Denki’s breath hitches, and you observe his reaction carefully. “No way,” he mutters breathily. “Thats–”
“A soulmate tattoo, I know,” you laughed softly, already beginning to drop your wrist. “They’re rare, but I got lucky! Well, not too lucky. I can’t find them anywhere! That’s why I, you know…” Denki didn’t move, and you were beginning to suspect he didn’t have what you were looking for.
“Sorry for making it weird. I didn’t mean to lead you on, it’s just that… I need to find them. I’m sorry, maybe I should–”
“No, wait!” Denki cut you off, catching your wrist as you turned to leave. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks as he turns your wrist over to stare at your mark again. After a moment, he wordlessly turns over his own wrist, and with a few hard scrubs… reveals his own hidden tattoo.
You feel a mix of emotion at the sight, gently taking his wrist in both of your trembling hands. “I-It is you…” you gasp. “But you covered it up.” Hearing your voice droop slightly, Denki takes your hands in his own.
“I didn’t want to,” Denki explained quickly. “I think we’ve both been misled.”
You paused a moment before realization dawned on you. “D-Do you mean that… that Jirou?” Denki nodded, taking you into another tight hug.
Face pressed into his chest, you allow yourself to be washed over by his warmth. He smelled like lemongrass and lavender, and the feeling of his lips pressing against your hair filled you with an indescribable tenderness.
“That doesn’t matter right now,” he said, a choked laugh sounding from his chest. “I found you, (Y/n). I found you.”