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#soulmate au
cosmoseli · 2 days ago
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Soulmate au with lookism, when you draw on your skin it appears on your soulmate’s skin and visa-versa. Danny scribbling the answers to an exam on his arm in time with his soulmate’s to help them with an exam. Reader writing cheat codes for games that Zack will be able to see, and in return he gives fighting tips. Gun’s tattoos appearing in his soulmate’s arms leaving them wondering about his story ♡
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daybreakx · 2 days ago
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↪︎ astro jinjin x neutral reader, soulmate au, fluff, angst.
↪︎ wc: 2.3k
↪︎ warnings: mentions of food and drinks, this is unedited so please excuse any mistakes.
↪︎ a/n: this is for my beloved @milkybonya​ whom I love very much and I hope enjoys this a lot!♡ feedback is encouraged and appreciated, please reblog if you like it!
▹ playlist: invisible string–taylor swift◦golden–harry styles◦’til i don’t–lany.
☞ membership holders: @kristyxoxo​ @clairdelunesstuff (couldn’t tag), @pinutbutterjelly​, @eunwoosimp​♡
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This whole soulmate thing was hell. That much you knew.
At first, you didn’t want to make everything about finding ‘your other half’, because you didn’t believe such thing. You weren’t incomplete. 
But after a few years, and a few painful break ups, you were starting to doubt it.  Maybe you were in fact missing something.
Three black lines adorned the inside of your wrist. The reminders of the the people who had failed at being your soulmate, and whom you’d failed as well. You could still see little red dots mixed with the black in the latest one, it wouldn’t be long until it was fully black. Completely dull against your skin. 
Soulmate lines started pink, when you first realized you had feelings for the other person, turning red when falling in love and it was reciprocated, only to end in these black marks when one person lost feelings, or simply it didn’t work out.
But there were the lucky people too, those who got the golden line. Those who had found their soulmate. You were jealous of them, especially the ones who’d gotten their golden line in their very first attempt at being in love. 
It all seemed so unfair, but there was nothing left to do about it.
“Stop looking at your marks,” Moon Bin gave you a soft smack on the wrist with the chewed tip of his pen. “It’ll be okay.”
It was easy for him to say so, he had no marks at all. Never been interested enough in getting in a relationship, Moon Bin didn’t have to struggle through the aftermath.
“I know,” you replied, unsure. Third time’s the charm could apply to many things, including finding one’s soulmate, which meant your chances were done. “I know.”
“Okay listen– why don’t you join the camping trip this weekend? The woods will help you clear your mind and you’ll have fun.”
“Eh… Your friends might not love the idea.” you shrugged. Moon Bin tried to include you in his plans with these other friends and although he said they didn’t mind, you never accepted. 
“They will,” Moon Bin assured, tapping you again with the pen and leaving a small circle of saliva glistening on your skin. “It will be so much fun!” he smiled.
It was the woods or mulling over the marks on your skin all alone in your room with ‘traitor’ playing in the background. 
“What should I pack?” you muttered, pulling your sweater down to the middle of your palm. 
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Moon Bin introduced you to three people:
Eunwoo, who had one mark in deep black, a pretty contrast against his skin although there was probably an ugly story behind it.
Minhyuk, who had one black mark and a recent pink one, that made you wince instead of feeling hopeful.
And Jinwoo, who had three black marks like yours. Another one of the doomed ones.
At least they all seemed happy to see you join and each gave you their version of what camping with them was like. There was one thing they all agreed on: Chaos. 
Eunwoo and Minhyuk ended up assembling everyone’s tents, since the other two guys and you only tangled yourselves around the ropes. So that left you, Jinwoo and Moon Bin to look for wood for the bonfire.
“Is this okay?” you held up a piece up to Jinwoo, who carried similar looking ones. You could’nt help but let your eyes wander to his wrist, the three black lines covered by the sleeve of his puffy jacket. 
“Yeah, that’ll work.” he nodded in response, a gentle smile appeared on his lips when he noticed what you were trying to look at. “You seem very interested in the marks,” he mused casually, walking in front of you again, in the direction of Bin.
“Not at all,” you bit back, regretting your tone almost immediately. “I really am not.”
Jinwoo shrugged, bending to pick up another piece of wood. “Sometimes you gotta take a risk, I guess. That’s why I have–”
‘Please don’t say so many, it’ll only make me feel worse’, you thought.
“We have enough!” Moon Bin called, “Let’s head back.”
“I have three, too.” You added before turning your back to Jinwoo, who was willing to let you lead the way back to the site. 
“Doesn’t it make you feel better?” he chuckled, “That we’re matching?”
You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. Maybe it did. 
But maybe the thing that actually made you feel much better was what the said that night, while everybody else was dozing off in front of the fire and you were fighting the urge to pick against the dying red dots on your wrist. As if that would kill the feelings that remained inside you.
“It never hurts to try again, you know?” Jinwoo whispered, passing you a stick with a roasted marshmallow to keep your hands busy. 
You gave him a weak smile, but his words were burnt in your mind. 
If he was willing to keep trying, why wouldn’t you be?
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Three months had gone by since the camping trip, and you were glad to find that Moon Bin’s friends liked you as much as Moon Bin did. You’d join them in other plans and get-togethers, each time more fun than the last one. But despite all of that, you were still shocked when Jinwoo asked you to do him a favor: Being his date for a wedding he was supposed to attend.
The thing you focused on the most was the identical golden lines the bride and the groom wore proudly on their wrists. 
“They got the black ones removed,” Jinwoo explained, not even bothering to follow your gaze to know exactly where you were looking.
“That’s nice,” you added, a little embarrassed that he knew so much about your ever-growing obsession with the soulmate thing. “I would do it too.”
“Really?” he turned his face to look at you this time, “Why?”
“Who wants a reminder of their failures?”
“I think it’s more of a reminder of how lucky you are to find your soulmate. After going through all that.” Jinwoo smiled softly and then shrugged.
You shrugged in return. “It’s all about perspective, I guess.”
Jinwoo had learned that the soulmate thing was a delicate subject with you, so instead of pushing the argument he certainly wouldn’t win, he offered his hand to you. A slow song was just starting, and the lights were dimming.
“Did you invite me because I’m the only one who can dance?” you joked, taking his hand and feeling thankful for the attempt at difusing the tension. 
“You’re also the best looking one.” Jinwoo added as you made your way towards the dance floor. 
“Thank you,” you laughed, yet your face burned at the compliment. 
“Also,” Jinwoo added as you swayed slowly around, “I was hoping this would lift your spirits. Their golden marks, I mean.”
Theirs and a bunch of other guests’ who displayed them proudly as they danced, and drank and chatted. 
“Thak you,” you repeated, tightening your grip around Jinwoo’s hand. “I appreciate it.”
The song ended and you excused yourself to the restroom, while Jinjin stayed behind, fixing his suit so the sleeve covered the prickling pink mark that was starting to show up.
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On a rainy Tuesday morning, you realized there was a pink mark on you. And you were terrified.
It hadn’t been long since you’d started your job as a barista in the new boba place in town, which meant it was busy a great part of the day and you had scarce moments to catch your breath, your fifteen minute break being one of them. 
“I was hoping we could eat these outside,” Jinwoo said, shaking droplets from his hair as he showed you a brown bag with grease stains on the side. “But it’s pouring.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d taken lunch to your workplace, but you weren’t expecting him that day with the wild weather. You laughed, telling him to take a seat while you prepared to hot milk teas to go with your lunch. 
You sat under the little roof by the back of the store. Drops soaking your shoes and the hem of your pants, but happily eating the sandwiches Jinjin had brought as he talked about his morning. 
“You need to go straight home, Jinwoo,” you laughed, taking a sip of your drink. “You’re going to get sick, and I’ll be the one to blame.”
“I’ll be fine,” he assured, shaking his damp hair again. “I really wanted to have lunch with you.”
“Me too,” you admitted lowly, before shoving the last piece of bread in your mouth. “It’s time I head back.”
“Go ahead, I’ll pick the trash up.” He smiled, watching you fix your jacket around your shoulders. He wished you wouldn’t have to take it off once you went inside, to show the uniform. The café wasn’t warm enough and your own hair was damp. 
You scratched your wrist absentmindedly. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow at Moon Bin’s, right?”
“I’ll be there.” 
You walked inside slowly, already hearing the mess that the store was.
“y/n!” one of your coworkers yelled as they looked over their shoulder to the staff door. “Please take over the till!”
“Coming!” you vociferated back, pulling on your sleeve to get rid of the jacket. The first thing you saw once your arm was free was the pink on your wrist. 
You were willing to try, but what made you so scared then?
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How on Earth were you supposed to cover up the now bright pink mark on your wrist?
More importantly, how were you supposed to keep your feelings for Jinwoo at bay? It had been a couple weeks since your mark had shown up, and you had done your best to conceal it. But this was impossible. You had tried with band-aids, bracelets and other sorts of accessories, but they looked awkward and ended up dragging more attention to the other marks than you were willing to bear. 
It was too hot for a jacket, or even a sweater. And it would only raise more suspicion.
But Jinwoo didn’t say anything as the both of you showed up wearing sweaters for your movie night. None of your friends had agreed to join you to go to the cinema, honestly, neither of you had asked, just assumed they’d said no and agreed to go on with the plan by yourselves. 
You had never felt more awkward around Jinjin. Being exaggeratingly careful about grabbing popcorn only once his hand was out of the box, leaning to the opposite side of the seat, and being a little too quiet on the walk back to your home.
You were blowing it up before even giving it a chance to be.
“I have something to tell you,” Jinwoo spoke, already fearing the look you’d give him once you realized he’d gotten a pink mark thanks to you. “But um, I want you to let me finish, please.”
You half shrugged, half nodded. Maybe he’d somehow realized you had the pink mark, and he was going to try and convince you that it wouldn’t be so bad that you added another black tattoo to your collection. 
Instead of speaking again, Jinwoo pulled his sleeve up, showing you the pink on his skin. “I like you, a lot. It’s been a while and uh…”
Breaking your promise about letting him finish, you displayed the patch of skin as well. You wanted to smother the hope that was bubbling on your chest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. “It’s frightening, but it never hurts to try?” you tried, your voice shaky.
“Do you want to try with me?” Jinjin smiled, offering his hand like the day you’d danced together. 
You nodded, taking his hand. Your twin tattoos turning red as your fingers intertwined.
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The sky was painted pink and orange, purple in some places too, as the sun went down on the beach. Jinwoo and you had left your friends behind a while ago as they picked up the mess they’d made after being all day in between the sand and the sea. 
“Let’s take a picture!” you cheered, getting your phone out of the back pocket of your shorts. “Golden hour is supposed to make us look really pretty.”
“You’re already the prettiest,” Jinwoo replied, pressing a noisy and slightly messy kiss to your cheek. “Here, let me take one of you alone first.”
“But I want one with you,” you pouted, wiggling the fingers he’d just let go to take the phone away from you. “Come on.”
“You first,” he insisted, already focusing the camera on you. You posed, lifting your arms to the sky, and then giving him a finger heart that made him chuckle. “See? You’re already the prettiest.”
“Hurry, the sun’s going to set!” you pulled him to your side, smiling up at the camera as your boyfriend looked for the right angle to leave shadows out of your faces. 
Jinwoo kissed you as the sun went down. The sky more orange than pink now and the golden hour long forgotten by both of you as your lips melted together, still tasting of sunscreen and sea salt. 
“I love you,” Jinjin whispered against your lips, his fingers holding the back of your head softly as he spoke. “I really, really love you, y/n.”
Your heart fluttered, and you smiled before pressing your mouths together again. It was the first time he told you so, and it couldn’t have been more perfect. 
“I love you, too.” you whispered back, bodies flushing together as you welcomed the night.
The only gold around you now were the twin tattoos on your wrists.
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NOTE: To all who have sent asks I have a few I'm working on but Tumblr has eaten about five already so if your ask hasn't been answered there's a possibility it disappeared and needs to be resubmitted!
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haiky-u-lously · 18 hours ago
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Day 6: Kenma Kozume
December Soulmate Prompt Calendar
“When you lose something it ends up in your soulmate’s possession”
Warning: HQ Adults, Kenma after vball, boss, employee, depressive state alluded to, OCD alluded to, not eating/falling asleep hungry, happy ending implied.
Author’s Note: Okay, failing now. Sorry y'all. Since I left the computer at work I didn't get to work on Day 7 or Day 8, so while I can post Day 6 today, everything will be pushed back a bit. Hopefully I can use Saturday to catch up and I only stay one day off. Anyway, its everyone's favorite least interested in volleyball setter, and my brother's personal best boi-love of his life if real...KENMA! A bit differently done.
Hope you enjoy!
You were always an organized person, at least when it came to most things. Notes and research, color coded and split by project. Cabinets and cupboards were sorted according to your taste. EVerything had a place and everything ended up in its place.
Most of the time.
Only, on days like today, when the stress from work was just a little too much, and you had not breaks to recenter yourself, and the additional stress of your family pressuring you to return home for the holidays...it was just enough to push you over the edge and your very organized life became a hot mess.
Walking into your apartment for the evening, three hours later than normal, you just dropped your bag in the entryway and kicked off your shoes. You flopped face down into the couch, sending some of the throw pillows up onto the arms rest, just enough to knock over a stack of papers all over the other side of the lounge furniture. Would anyone else have been in the enclosed space, they would have heard the moan of defeat leave your lips as you realized you needed to pick up all the white sheets taunting your form despite your face still being pushed into the cushion.
Too mentally exhausted to deal with the mess just then, you just piled the papers together out of the way and shoved the stack against the wall.
Deciding that was the universe’s way of telling you to get up and feed yourself you made your way to the kitchen. Once there you stared at your fridge, indecisive against the seemingly nothingness presented to your eyes.
Eventually you gave up, grabbed a gatorade and returned to the living room. It just wasn’t your day.
After finding a comfortable position, you turned on the tv, and started sipping your electrolytes.
You must have dozed off because the next thing you knew you were waking up to an explosion playing from the sound system. The channel it ended up on, showing a random action movie. You turned the tv off and looked at your phone for the time. 3am. Not an ideal time to wake up when your alarm is set to go off at 4:30 every morning.
With a groan you did not know your body was capable of making, you stood up, forced to balance as your head swirled around in circles.
“Damn, I need food.”
You once again made your way to your fridge, deciding to make yourself the eggs you caught in your peripheral last night. You woke up an hour and a half early, why not treat yourself to something better than a cereal bar of toast.
The morning seemed to fly by as you took your time getting ready. Soon enough it was five minutes before you were meant to be out the door and you remembered the paper fiasco from the night prior.
Sighing in near defeat you reached down and tried to organize the papers that were meant to be used for your presentation later in the day.
You quickly realized some pages were missing, not just out of order but just straight up missing. The worst part of that realization was that you hadn’t even met your soulmate yet, so the key parts of your presentation could be on the complete other side of the world from you.
Dejected, you grabbed what you had and made your way out. Trying to convince yourself you can still have a good pitch even without all your proper points and guides.
_________
Having rested as well as a CEO of a multi-billion dollar gaming company could, Kenma woke up at 2am, chugged a mug of straight black coffee, and sat in front of his screen ultra-beta-testing the games that would be presented in today’s pitch meeting.
He had twelve games to test if he wanted to keep his ideal of full understanding before going into one of these things. It was a tiring ordeal, but something he started after being blind sided by a pitch that was most likely the reason his company almost went bankrupt in its infancy. Or, at least that was what he’d convinced himself of.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the people under him, it was more that he felt they took their jobs as just a job and he took his as his life.
Around 7am he decided he’d had a good enough understanding of each of the dozen preliminary game versions. Moving to pack up his notes, he noticed some paper that was extremely different from his own sheets, the handwriting so far off from his it was momentarily illegible. After a moment he recognized it as something belonging to his soulmate.
They hardly ever lost anything, so it was always a wonder when something of theirs ended up with him. Kenma found it both interesting and irritating. He wanted to know more about them, but at the same time he welcomed not being buried under another’s junk.
It was 11 by the time he made it into the office, the shock from what he’d read being the main selling points he thought one of the game’s pitchers would use having made him lose his mind and distracted him from everything else.
However, he had figured out exactly who they were. The game that each of his department heads had pushed for, the one submitted by the talent he’d seen correcting others’ mistakes when reviewing them over and over and over again. Always willing to help, always doing so in the most proficient manner. Hardly ever making mistakes, and fixing them when they did.
And, Kenma couldn’t be more than excited to watch you present the best game preview he’d seen in many a pitch meeting.
‘Maybe,’ He thought, ‘I could say some of their bullet points before them to let them know back.’ He smiled at that, determined to follow through and have a one-on-one conversation with you before you left work for the day. ‘Whoever was (Y/N)’s hiring manager...I need to give them a bit extra on their holiday bonus…’
Day 1 |  Day 2  |  Day 3 |  Day 4  |  Day 5  |  Day 6 [X] |  Day 7  |
Day 8  |  Day 9  |  Day 10  |  Day 11  |  Day 12  |  Day 13  |  Day 14  |
Day 15  |  Day 16  |  Day 17  |  Day 18  |  Day 19  |  Day 20  |
Day 21  |  Day 22  |  Day 23  |  Day 24  |  Day 25  |  Day 26  |
Day 27 | Day 28 | Day 29 | Day 30  |  Day 31
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The Jungle Unknown Part Six
Pairing: Steve x Bucky x reader
Warnings: Violence, cursing, fluff, nudity
Summary of the series: You are a close scientist friend of Bruce’s so when the team needs help from someone with her expertise, they call in the best, you! But what happens when you find the 2 people you’ve been looking for your whole life?
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Previously:
That night you all cuddled together, nervous tension throughout the room, and tried to sleep, but it was few and far between. The next morning, you would all be working together and fighting for your lives…..
You woke up at your normal time, early for Bucky, who would have preferred to stay and cuddle but you all knew you couldn’t, you had a job to do. You grabbed your bags that were already packed and set them by the bedroom door. Then you all got dressed and headed out the room, bags in hand. You ate a filling breakfast, you would need the energy. The rest of the team had gotten up to say their goodbyes, most were half awake but still there none the less. Banner gave you a long hug, sadly knowing you might not make it back, you promised him you’d be safe. You all headed to the jet that would take you as close as you could get before you had to go on foot, with the time changes, you would get there just after sunrise, giving you the full day to hike.
The jet was on autopilot so you and the boys went through the plan one more time and just held each other. You all knew the danger this mission held, you wanted, needed, the touch of one another to help you calm, nerves were high but you all hoped for the best. You all got a few more hours of sleep in before you were notified you had arrived. The jet would be waiting there, hidden under an invisibility mode, waiting for you guys to get back. You all grabbed your bags and slung them onto your backs, then you guys headed into the jungle.
You guys spent the day hiking through the jungle, there were a few small road bumps, like the spider that jumped out and scared the shit out of Steve. Eventually it was time to set up camp for the night, you set up near a river so you could use it to clean off. You guys set up the tent, Bucky said he was going to find and get some firewood while Steve set up the rest of the camp, and you grabbed some water, and cleaned off in the river.
You were getting cleaned, and had your clothes off when you heard the super soldiers scream. You ran to them to see what was wrong, you ran so quickly you didn’t have time to grab or put on your clothes. There was a bear! You jumped into action. You grabbed a knife that you found and attacked the bear. After a few swings the bear ran off and your adrenaline calmed down enough to realize that your two soulmates were staring at you, mouths open. “Doll. That. Was,” Steve started, and Bucky finished, “so fuckin’ hot” you were now blushing like crazy and you made up an excuse and ran to grab your clothes. You came back with your clothes on, to the super soldiers’ dismay. You guys ate dinner and headed into the tent.
“God it’s cold.” Bucky complained, “didn’t you both get frozen for 70 some odd years?” You joked, and the guys just stuck their tongues out at your teasing. “I’m still cold,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve agreed that he felt the same. “Get in here then, I’ll help you ‘defrost’” you sighed and joked, opening up your sleeping bag, they wiggled in with you and you guys cuddled and kept warm.
The next morning went off without a hitch, but when you’d started hiking, it got tough. The weather was bad, and Mother Nature definitely wanted to kill you. Bucky almost got bit by a poisonous bug, but Steve saw it and killed it before it bit his soulmate. Steve proceeded to trip on a root an hour later and luckily you caught him before he landed face first into a spot of poison ivy.
Eventually you guys made it to the cave that held the rock with only a few scrapes and bruises. You made it there quicker than anticipated, I guess being with super soldiers, you have to stop less and it’s a smaller group, so you move quicker. Steve was about to take one step into the cave when you put your hand out across his chest to stop him, “wait, babe, I think there’s booby traps, I mean they wouldn’t just leave the stone unprotected or anything” Bucky was slightly confused by what you ment and wanted to clarify, “like in that movie you showed us, Indiana Jones, doll?” “Yeah like in that one, hold on,” you responded and took a nearby normal rock and threw it into the cave. It landed and a sharpened piece of wood, like a wooden spear, shot out and hit the wall, “yeah booby traps,” Steve scarily said. “Let’s try to not die!” “We won’t…..I think” you murmured the last part under your breath but then having their super hearing heard you. Bucky grasped your hand and gave it a squeeze. “We got this, I believe in you and I, Stevie, eh maybe” you three chuckle at Bucky trying to lighten the mood. You guys got this… yeah…… maybe….. not. Oh god, when you saw it, you knew you were doomed.
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anisaanisa · 6 hours ago
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Chapter 54: Unfortunate Summary: Sometimes, all it takes is one word. A love story told in 100-word drabbles. Rating: T (For Now) Tags: AU - Modern Setting, Romance, Fluff, Slice of Life, Meet Cute, They’re Both Idiots Your Honour
Unusual circumstances turned into a series of unfortunate events, and Kagome landed herself in the emergency room.
Elated that the Mystery Crosswalk Guy recognised her, that feeling quickly crashed and burned when his pointing reminded her of why she was there in the first place.
Embarrassed beyond belief, her face refused to cool when it became apparent that he would be her doctor.
Tall, attractive, and sporting a pair of dog ears she’d not yet had the pleasure of seeing thanks to his always present hood, Kagome silently thanked the rogue cyclist for finally getting the chance to meet him.
Read it on AO3 ▶
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they-have-my-heart · 2 days ago
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Sphinx?
Phinks x Reader - soulmate au
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: crack fic, cussing, breaking and entering
Author’s Note: this was written for @trassh-senpai for a secret santa gift! First time writing Phinks. It’s pretty cracky, possibly a little ooc for Phinks but 🤷 Let me know what you think! 
“Fucking Hell!”
Those words first appeared in a nice crimson color on the inner part of your bicep when you were eight years old. It was written in the worst chicken scratch you’d ever seen, but that didn’t stop you from sounding it out. 
“Ffff-uh-ck-ing….Huh-eh-ll. Fuck-ing Hell? Fucking Hell!” you shouted with delight once you finally figured out what it said. Your parents’ souls almost ascended right then and there. They scolded you and did their best to cover up the tattoo because “a child like you should not be associated with such foul language and obscenities”. There were also mummerings of “what kind of path is our child going down?” and “what have we done to deserve this?”. Your parents had always been a little over dramatic.
As you got older, you figured there was a funny story behind your soulmate’s first words to you. 
Most of your friends had, in your opinion, boring tattoos. “Oh, excuse me” , “Do you have a pencil I could borrow?”, “What’s the wifi password?”, “I like your hair”, and so on. All boring. All predictable. You were glad that yours was different and wasn’t so expected. It had the makings of a funny story that you would be glad to tell others once you had met your soulmate.
Today was not the day. The bakery you normally go to was out of your favorite sweet treats, the salon cancelled your hair appointment last minute, and you received an email from your professor saying that you needed to retake your midterm as something on his end had glitched and prevented him from seeing your answers. The one saving grace was that you were able to snag one of the last loaves of the good bread at the bakery. You were in a hurry to get home in order to put this awful day behind you, when a brute of a man slammed his shoulder into you. Normally, you would just ignore it and keep going. But not only did your shoulder ache, your loaf of bread had been crushed. That was the final straw.
“Hey, buddy! Why don’t you watch where you’re going? You rude ass Gucci wannabe,” you yelled at the back of the man who practically mowed you over.
He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at you. 
“Fucking Hell!’
Your bicep burned as the blond man scowled the phrase etched on your arm. You pulled your arm out of your sweater sleeve and pulled up your t-shirt sleeve to see that the tattoo had changed from crimson to black, as if it had been solidified. 
The man also pulled his arm out of his jacket sleeve and tattooed on his bicep in your handwriting was the angry phrase you had just uttered. 
“Wait. You? You’ve absolutely got to be kidding me!” you did not have time for this today. 
He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you to the opening of an alleyway. 
“Do you know how much shit I get for this tattoo every day?”
“Well, maybe if you weren’t so RUDE, you’d have a very different tattoo, yeah?” 
He rolled his eyes, the scowl remaining on his face. 
“If you’re not careful, your face will get stuck like that,” you tried to lighten the situation, but when his face stayed the exact same, you decided to just keep flaming the fire. “What’s your name, Gucci man?”
His face turned red. “Not fuckin’ Gucci man.”
“Ugh, fine. I’ll start. My name is ______. And your name is…,” you elongated the last word waiting for him to answer. 
“Phinks,” he said through gritted teeth.
“What was that? Pinks?”
“Phinks!” he said with a little more authority in his voice.
“Okay, well Sphinx, you owe me another loaf of bread. Let’s go,” you grabbed his wrist and began to drag him back to the bakery. You had expected he would put up a little more resistance, but he willingly let you drag him. 
Luckily, the bakery still had one loaf left and you were able to grab it. 
“Alright, you got your stupid bread. Let’s go,” he said as he began to walk out. 
“Hold on there, bud. You’re paying for this.”
“The hell I am, just walk out. I ain’t paying for your stupid bread,” he turned again, but you snatched his wrist.
“Phinks, don’t make a scene. Just pay the people. You DO have money, right?”
“What kinda stupid question...yeah, I got money-”
“Then get it out.”
“I ain’t-”
“Now.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes while pulling out a handful of bunched up bills and some random coins. He dropped it on the counter and walked out. 
“Hold on, sir. This is too much!” the assistant tried to stop him. 
“I’ll give it back to him, sorry about that,” you gave them a smile and ran after the grumpy man. 
“Dude, what’s your problem? Here’s your change,” you shoved the money into his hand. 
Phinks stood there for a few moments staring at the money you had just put back into his hand, a scowl plastered all over his face. 
“I’m sorry if I came off too strong in there. I have a tendency to say whatever’s on my mind and if I embarrassed you, then I’m sorry,” you tried your best to sound sincere. You were being sincere, but you also weren’t going to tolerate a grown man acting so childish. 
He opened his mouth, but before any words came out, a short man appeared out of nowhere. 
“Phinks, you’re late. We were supposed to meet at the old factory 20 minutes ago.”
“Yeah, sorry. I got...caught up with something. Give me 2 minutes.”
The short man nodded and disappeared into a nearby alley. 
“Look, I wasn’t expecting to meet my soulmate today. Wasn’t actually ever expecting to meet you ever. But here you are. And I would like to get to know ya. You seem...alright. Like you can hold your own,” his face was turning red as he was staring at the ground.
“Yeah, I think we got off on the wrong foot. We can exchange phone numbers or something.”
“Phinks!” the voice from the alley shouted. 
“I’ll see ya around, ______.”
You blinked and he was gone. It seemed that he was trying to let you down easy. You hugged your loaf of bread on the walk home, trying to make sense of your encounter. 
The sun was shining through your bedroom window and the smell of coffee filled your apartment. You didn’t remember setting the automatic timer for the coffee pot or even preparing it, but yesterday had been so bizarre that you figured you had forgotten about the coffee. Preparing for a lazy day ahead of you, you threw on your most comfortable sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. You headed toward the kitchen to pour yourself some coffee and start making some breakfast. In the middle of the counter were some droopy flowers and a partially smashed box of donuts. The blond haired man from yesterday walked into the kitchen just as you noticed his gifts. 
You spat out your coffee, “Fucking hell! Sphinx! What the fuck, dude? What the-how the hell did you get in here?” 
“Damn, calm down darlin’. I was just tryin’ to apologize,” he grabbed some paper towels and started cleaning up the mess you just made. 
“How did you find me?” you asked, still in disbelief that he was standing in your kitchen.
“You weren’t that hard to track down, babe. You, uh, left this behind yesterday,” he held up your driver’s license. 
How did that get left behind? You thought to yourself. 
“Anyway, I need you to come with me. My boss wants to meet you,” he mumbled as his cheeks began to turn pink. 
“Phinks, I don’t even know what you do. Why would your boss want to meet me?”
“Listen, ______. Here’s the thing. Either you come with me and we can be together like we’re supposed to or you’ll never see me again. There is no domestic lifestyle for me. And you can either accept that and leave this behind or you keep what you have going on, but leave me behind.”
This was all so sudden and you weren’t sure how you were supposed to react. Your soulmate, whom you had just met yesterday, was telling you that you had to leave everything you knew behind if you wanted to be with him. 
“There must be a reason why we’re soulmates. I’d like to think it’s because we’re able to really understand each other,” he grabbed your hands and held them in his. “I would never let anything bad happen to you. I know I’m a little rough around the edges, but I can make a good life for us. There are plenty of good things I’ve missed out on, but you are one thing I don’t want to have to miss out on.”
You stared at your hands and his hands intertwined. It felt right. It felt safe. 
“Please, ______,” his hands moved to cup your face. His eyes were intense and sincere. What did you have to lose taking a chance on him? You leaned up and as soon as your lips met, it felt as though sparks were flying around the two of you. 
“Let me go change and get some things packed up, Sphinx.”
“Oh, you don’t need any clothes. I got you a matching tracksuit.”
Your eyes widened in horror as you did NOT want to be seen in a tracksuit, let alone a MATCHING tracksuit.
“That’s only a joke, babe. Go grab some stuff. I’ll wait right here.” 
22 notes · View notes
mandu-17 · 2 days ago
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Strawberry and cream | Choi Tzuyu x reader
Requested by: anonymous
Request: Hello! I really love your blog! Can I request a soulmate AU( in which the kiss of a soul mate always has some flavor (strawberries, mint, etc.) while the kiss with another person remains a common kiss.) with Twice Tzuyu, wherein Tzuyu is school's a bad girl and the reader is a new transferred student
Warnings: maybe a curseword or two
Genre: Soulmate AU, fluff
Wordcount: ~ 1,624
A/N: thank you so much for kind words anon<3 this was such a cool request so for that also thank you! hopefully you'll like this:)
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Starting over was never easy and even though you've dealt with it many times before, it only seemed to be getting worse. Due to your parents work, your family often had to move all around the world. Some could say it was an awesome opportunity to visit many places and meet new people, but to you it was getting tiring. You had enough of packing and unpacking or making friendships, that lasted only a few months. It felt like there was no point in adapting anymore, since soon you’ll probably be on your way somewhere else. So this time, you decided to focus only on studying.
For most of your classes, it was pretty easy to do your best and listen to the teachers. Except for maths in which your bench mate is one and only Choi Tzuyu. Neither of you asked for it. It just so happened that her table was the only empty spot on your first day, meanwhile Tzuyu was late for class, as every other time.
You vividly remember everyone’s concerned stares on you, the second Tzuyu walked in. Honestly speaking, you kind of expected her to beat you up as well, judging by the stern look on her face. Instead she eyed you curiously and smirked to herself, before sitting down next you.
That day she didn’t speak a word, yet she had your whole attention. Maybe it was the way she was simply sitting so nonchalantly, not even pretending to listen to the teacher. Maybe it was the way her clothes hugged her body so well or maybe the way she kept stealing glances at you every few minutes.
Once the period was over, Tzuyu left in a speed of a lightning. Slowly gathering your things and planning on to heading to the cafeteria, you heard a voice from behind.
“You’re so lucky she didn’t kick you out of here. Tzuyu only lets her friends sit with her.”
Turning around, you were met with a black-haired girl, analyzing your face carefully, as if deep in thoughts.
“Well there was no other empty table, so both of us had no choice.” You responded bluntly, not really wanting to get more involved in that conversation.
“Right, you’re new here.” She chuckled, following you out of the classroom. “Choi Tzuyu doesn’t care about anything. There’s literally nothing she gives a fuck about. So her letting you sit by her table means something.”
And what’s so interesting about it, you thought with a frown.
“Look, just like you said, I’m new here and guess what, I don’t care about her or frankly speaking, anyone else here. So don't bother yourself, I'm good." You replied with attitude, before leaving.
Maybe you were a little too harsh, judging by the confused look on the girl's face, although that didn't matter to you. You only had one goal which definitely wasn't getting involved in any school drama.
Unfortunately, even your math teacher was against you. As soon as he announced that your next assignment is a project in pairs with your bench mate, you knew you were doomed. Considering how Tzuyu was never working in class, it was obvious that you were going to be the one doing all the work. Partly, it was a good solution, you didn't have to spend time with her, although her reaction was unexpected.
"You free this Friday?" She turned to you with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes." You looked at her unsure.
"I'll meet you at the cafe at 6. Sounds good, partner?" From the lazy smile tugging on her lips, you could already imagine all kinds of rumours spreading about the two of you later on.
Why on earth was it Tzuyu who was assigned to you.
Although, for some odd reason you didn't feel uncomfortable or scared to work with her. Through your time at school, you've learnt that Tzuyu was never really that vulgar or aggressive. Her looks were always enough to make the other person know how she felt about them. When it came to teachers, Tzuyu just knew the right people, who usually got her anything she wanted. Rarely had she to directly speak or argue, which gave her so much power in everybody's eyes. Once she did speak though, it was almost always to nearly destroy others.
Lots of mixed feelings and thoughts washed through you on your way to the cafe that day. You were very curious about how your evening with Tzuyu will go.
“Hey, partner.” She greeted you with a smug smile, while checking you out shamelessly.
In response, you rolled your eyes and huffed, after taking a sit across from her. You also found it kind of unexpected that she was the one already waiting for you.
“You know, I think the atmosphere here could be nicer if you actually did respond to me.” One of her long eyebrows raised slightly, as she kept toying with the straw of her drink.
“There’s absolutely no need for that. The only thing I want is to get this project done so I can go home.” You smiled sarcastically, while putting out books and notes.
“And what are you gonna do at home? Watch netflix on your own?” Tzuyu frowned and your eyes finally met.
She must have seen in your face that her comment wasn’t well received.
“What I mean is that I can clearly see how you don’t get involved with anyone at school. I thought about it a lot, but in the end I just don’t get it. Why are you so distant?”
That surprised you.
You’d never expect Choi Tzuyu to study you so deeply. All you really thought of her was that she was very hot, never hesitated to speak her mind and didn’t care about anything. Yet, here she was confronting you about such personal things.
“You wouldn’t understand anyways.” You mumbled, eyes looking down at a fidgeting pair of hands, which seconds later was joined by a warm, soft one.
“Maybe not, but I’m sure you’d feel better letting it out.” Tzuyu squeezed your hand.
Her dark eyes were filled with kindness, as they were set on you. All of the sudden, your throat felt dry. It was the first time you saw this side of Tzuyu and from what you assumed it wasn’t often that she was this nice to others. Somehow this thought managed to calm you down a little.
The whole time you were talking and explaining why you gave up on making friends and bonding with people, Tzuyu held and caressed your hand gently. It was such a surreal moment. To have your annoyingly attractive and rebellious bench mate listen to your concerns in a café.
When you finished, Tzuyu took some time to find the right words, before speaking again.
“It must be really hard to live like this. I’m sorry to hear that. Although if I were you, I wouldn’t push everyone away. Actually, I’d do the opposite and try to make as many good memories as possible. Loneliness sucks a lot, I’m sure you've noticed it as well.”
“It’s just I have no idea how long I’m even going to stay here.” You shook your head sadly.
The girl in front of you nodded in understanding. It looked like she did care.
“Thank you. For listening, I mean. As you said, it’s better to let it all out sometimes.” A small smile spread on her face at your words.
“I’m glad I could be any help.” Tzuyu said quietly, eyes looking away coyly.
At that sight, you just had to smile yourself. Never would you guess that school’s bad girl was going to suddenly act this shy.
“How about we finally focus on the project?” You offered, not wanting to fluster the girl anymore.
At her firm nod, both of you got consumed by assignments and calculations. Surprisingly, working with Tzuyu went very smoothly. She was way smarter than anyone gave her credit.
At some point, you began to wonder about what else she will surprise you with. And for that, you didn’t have to wait long, since the taller girl insisted on walking you home. On the way, the two of you kept chatting about school, your hobbies outside of it and everything else that came into your minds.
You felt confused, as to why talking to Tzuyu was so easy and comforting. You glanced at her to find the girl looking ahead and talking about traditional holidays in Taiwan.
“What?” She stopped mid-sentence and asked amused.
“I don’t know. I just can’t help, but feel good around you and I don’t know where it comes from.” You frowned, confused with your own actions.
Why were you even telling her that?
“Oh, Y/N. I think I know why, I just have to make sure.” Tzuyu smiled, as if she won a lottery, while cupping your face gently. “Will you let me?”
Your eyes widened at the proximity, when she leaned in. Her forehead resting against yours and you knew what she meant. Although you found it hard to believe.
Your nod was enough for her to close the distance and meet your lips in a soft kiss. She tasted like a sweet strawberry on a summer evening. And due to drinks both of you had earlier, the flavor of the kiss was even nicer.
"That's unbelievable." You pulled away breathless, in shock.
"Yeah, kinda surprising." Tzuyu smiled warmly at you and it felt like your heart stopped beating.
She really was beautiful. Even more up close.
"Do you like strawberries?" Tall girl asked teasingly.
"Never been a fan, but I guess I can get used to it."
Two can play this game, you thought with a grin.
31 notes · View notes
angelicyoongie · 24 days ago
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lovesick (I)
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— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 5.9k — warnings: yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, harrassment, mention of violence/bodily harm, 18+ — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late. — amazing cover by @leithold​!
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Next
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Your foot is throbbing – again.
You fall back into bed, lifting your leg up to rest it over your knee. You wince as you examine the damage, purple and yellow bruising covering your swollen ankle. Lightly pressing around the area, you're relieved to find that it only seems to be slightly sprained.
You glance over at your bedside table as your alarm goes off again, the framed picture next to your phone catching your attention as you silence the shrill sound. It’s a photo of you and Heejun, your next-door neighbour turned best friend. This particular one was taken on the night before he turned eighteen, your grinning faces showing off the pure excitement you both felt at the time.
Ever since you were little, even before you met Heejun, you’ve always dreamed about meeting your soulmate. You’ve lost count of the endless nights you stayed up imagining what kind of mark you would find once you woke up on your 18th birthday. Your favourite was always discovering a note written on your arm – the same as your parents. A close runner-up was the countdown mark Heejun had, you always made sure to check in with him every day to watch as the time suddenly decreased or increased. You’ll never forget the day he called you, voice choked up with tears and joy as he told you he had finally bumped into his soulmate.
With thousands of different variants of soulmarks and new ones being reported every day, you always thought you would end up with something sweet, something fitting to the fairy tale you always wanted. You certainly weren’t expecting to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of a dislocated shoulder and forearm fracture sticking with you for weeks afterwards.
It took some time to come to terms with the fact that your mark didn’t come with any way to contact your soulmate, and that their injuries would affect you and vice versa. Your first year was spent fretting over every paper cut and accidental stubbed toe, but that worry slowly dissipated as your soulmate kept leaving random bruises all over your body, new aches and pains showing up more often than you would like to admit.
Your theory that your soulmate was just very clumsy didn’t hold up for long, not when you suddenly felt the ghost of a blade slicing into your cheek, and another one being driven into your thigh while you were watching a movie. There’s no job out there that would warrant the amount of injuries you’ve experienced over the last five years, not when one of them were so bad you even had to postpone your college enrolment for a year. You suppose you’re lucky your mark has only left you with pain and bruises, and not a copy of the actual injuries. You don’t even want to imagine how living with that would be, especially when certain injuries have taken you months to recover from.
Truly, the only logical conclusion you could come up with was that your soulmate must be involved with something illegal; something bad enough that getting stabbed is just an occupational hazard. It’s only natural that your dream of meeting them has long since faded away. If anything, you hope you never do. At this rate you’re terrified your soulmate might manage to hurt themselves so bad that it’ll defy the rules of your mark, and you’ll be helpless to stop it.
You grit your teeth as you place both feet on the floor, pushing through the throbbing pain in your ankle as you hobble your way over to your closet. Seasoned hands find the nylon material easily – you don’t even have to look to locate the brace you’ve stashed at the top shelf. This isn’t the first time you’ve woken up to a sprained ankle, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. You learned years ago that days like these aren’t worth acknowledging, that the best thing to do is just to move forward and ignore the bitterness festering in your chest. Today is a bad day, so washing your face and brushing your hair is all the effort you’re willing to put into your appearance.
You dig through your drawers to find the fluffiest sweater you own, the soft fleece bringing you some comfort and looking fairly decent paired with loose pants that aren’t too painful to pull over your injured foot. You take a moment to brace yourself, inhaling a deep breath before you rest your hand against the wall, using it for support as you limp your way over to the front door. You spare a glance at the tiny kitchen nestled in the corner of your living room, your stomach rolling at the thought of eating anything. You’re meeting up with Heejun for an early lunch right after your classes end, so skipping out on breakfast isn’t too big of a deal. Pain has always made you nauseous, and combining that with a healthy dose of soulmate resentment doesn’t leave much room for hunger anyway.
Reaching your shoes, you sink down on the floor with a huff. You find the pair that’s a size too large, the extra room making it easier to get your braced foot in without moving it too much. You lace them up with gritted teeth, your ankle protesting the added pressure. You grab your bag from where you left it slumped against the door yesterday as you get back up on your feet, a flash of hot pink catching your eye as you lift it up.
You blink, your stomach plummeting to the floor as you stare at the brightly coloured paper. There, shoved halfway beneath your door, is another envelope. You lean down with effort, your fingers trembling as you snatch it up from the ground. Your breath sounds harsh, loud, in your quiet apartment as you tear the envelope open - the familiar crinkle of paper making your skin crawl. You unfold the letter slowly, choking back a gag as the sugary scent imbedded in it hits your nose. Your name is written neatly at the top, embellished with a flurry of drawn hearts around it. Your chest feels tight as you begin to read, disgust clawing it’s way up your throat as you skim over the words.
‘Baby, did you wear that black dress for me? You knew I would be watching, didn’t you? Thank you for giving me such a pretty show, you’re such a good girl. … those perfect curves just begging for me to touch them … I know you were aching for me to bend you over the bar, to show everyone that your sweet little pussy belongs to me–'
You hastily fold the letter shut, stuffing it back into the pink envelope. You stumble over to the small entry table near your shoes, zeroing in on the black box resting on top of it. The kaleidoscope of bright colours that tauntingly greets you as you open the lid only serves to make your heart pound faster, your hands shaking so hard you almost miss the box as you dump the letter in among the others.
You snap it shut, gulping down a deep breath of air as you step back. You hold it in until your lungs begin to burn, the growing pain forcing the panic to quiet down. You release it when you begin to feel faint, white spots dancing around your vision as you slowly breathe out.
A low buzz against your thigh snaps you out of your daze, your last alarm alerting you that you’re going to be late if you don’t leave right now. You grab your keys, hiking your bag up over your shoulder as you ignore the desperate voices in the back of your mind that tells you to stay home, to lock the doors and never leave. It’s fine, you tell yourself as you undo the three separate locks on your door, the metal chains rattling as they hit the wood.
You slowly open the door, making sure to peak both ways before you hurry out, keys quickly locking everything back into place. It’s fine, you echo as you hurry down the corridor, your knuckles white from gripping on to your bag too hard. This is just a normal day after all; it’s nothing you’re not already used to.
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“Y/n, over here!” The knots in your stomach slowly unravel as you look up to find Heejun waving at you, his freshly dyed red hair standing out like a sore thumb in the mellow café. The bright smile on his face gradually slips into a frown as he takes in the slight limp to your gait, your pace slower than usual as you make your way across the room.
“Again?” Heejun sighs, pulling out the chair next to him.
You slip into the seat with a shrug, a pinched smile on your face, ”What can I say? Maybe my soulmate has a pain kink.”
“Please don't remind me of that possibility ever again.”
You bring a hand up to stifle your snort as Heejun’s body shakes with an exaggerated shudder.
There’s something sad in his expression as he settles, his voice soft as he says, ”Even if that was the case, you know it doesn’t make it okay, right? Their body is not just their body anymore, and doing something knowing it’s unwillingly affecting their soulmate is shitty as fuck. I’m sure there has to be a rule or a law somewhere that states it’s illegal.”  
“I know,” You murmur, accepting the plate of food Heejun nudges in your direction. “But even if it is, there’s not much I can do about it when I don’t even know who they are.”  
Heejun winces as you stab into a piece of egg with a little more force than necessary, metal scraping against the porcelain plate. ”I’m sorry, Y/n. If I could trade places with you, I would’ve done so in a heartbeat.”
You hide your smile behind a slice of toast, your chest warming with the knowledge that even if everything else goes to shit, you’ll always have your best friend. If it’s one thing you’re sure off, it’s that no one – not even your soulmate – will ever be able to take up as much space in your heart as Heejun does.
“You would give up on Jaemin that easily? Damn, what a cold-hearted soulmate you are,” You sniff. ”I promise I’ll take really good care of him, you know he already loves me.”
You nearly choke on a piece of bread as an affronted Heejun shoves your shoulder, "I meant switch our marks, not our soulmates!”
“Sure,” You tease.
Shaking your head at the half-hearted glare you get in response, you let your eyes drift beyond Heejun. You can’t help the automatic need to scan your surroundings, to watch the people walking outside in hopes of catching something, anything, that might validate the uneasy feeling in your stomach. You truly have no idea who’s behind all the letters you’ve been receiving for the past year, and it terrifies you to no end that it can literally be anyone. Maybe it’s the man glancing inside the café as he walks past, maybe it’s the woman behind the counter, maybe it’s another student in your class, maybe maybe maybe –
You jerk back as Heejun snaps his fingers in front of your face. You can tell he already knows by the time your focus shifts back to him, his expression tight as he murmurs, ”There’s more, isn’t it?”
There’s a split second you consider denying it, just to spare him from worrying about you even more. There’s nothing you’d like to do more than just to pretend that everything is fine, that your biggest problem is your upcoming midterms and a soulmate that leaves you with bruises, but you can’t. You’re scared, and you can’t go through this alone. You can’t make yourself more vulnerable than you already are.
“I got another one,” You clench the fork tightly in your fist, feeling the metal dig into your palm. ”Pink.”
Heejun curses under his breath, voice muffled behind his hands as he rubs his face, ”What did it say? Did you bring it?”
“No–” You shake your head, feeling ill at the thought of carrying that sickly sweet smelling letter around with you, to have those words so close to you the entire day. ”It’s worse than normal, more desperate. He .. he saw us last weekend, at Blue Hour. He commented on the dress I was wearing, what I was doing – he described everything, every little detail. He was there.”  
You release a shaky breath, dropping in fork in favour of grabbing Heejun’s outstretched hand. The weight of his fingers curling around yours is grounding, enough for you to anchor yourself in reality and not the despair slowly filling up your lungs. Heejun looks pale, the red in his hair burning against his skin as he squeezes your hand.
“Y/n, you have to go to the police. Please.”
"You know what happened last time–”
Heejun cuts you off with a sharp shake of his head.
"If the letters are escalating then there’s no telling what’s he’s going to do next. He knows where you live, it’s not safe. I can’t force you to stay with Jaemin and me, but I can’t let you be a sitting duck for this psycho either. I know the police didn’t take you seriously last time, but you have more evidence now, more letters. You have to try; maybe you’ll get another officer that actually cares about the people they’re supposed to protect this time. I’ll go with you if you want, you don’t have to deal with this alone, Y/n.”
You know he’s right. Even if nothing came of it last time, even if the officer you spoke to back then had the nerve to suggest that maybe it was just an admirer that was a little shy, that you should be flattered – it’s truly the only option you have left besides uprooting your entire life and running away. And even then there’s no guarantee that he won’t follow you, that he won't find you again.  
“I’ll go,” You say, guilt curling around your heart as you see the way Heejun sags with relief.
“Thank you. We can go after my shift? Or I can call in sick and we can go right now?”
You give his hand a squeeze of your own before you untangle your fingers, mustering up a faint smile you don’t really believe yourself. “No, you should go to work. I think this is something I should do on my own.”
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You clear your throat, leaning heavily on your good leg as you wait in front of the welcome desk at the station. The officer behind the desk holds up a finger, eyes glued to the screen as he continues to tap away at the keyboard. You swallow thickly, gripping the strap of your bag tighter. The police station is oddly quiet. You were expecting more people and more noise, but all you can hear is soft voices behind closed doors, a fan whirring overhead despite the autumn chill already having set in. Your town isn’t the biggest, but it’s not like it’s small either. It’s definitely not sleepy enough for the police station to be so empty.  
You bite down on the inside of your lip, chewing absentmindedly as you look at the board taking up most of the wall behind the reception. It’s littered with safety posters and tips, a lost pet or two, and the faces of a few missing people you don’t recognize. Your mouth feels dry as you take in the candid smiles on their faces, the joy in their eyes. You doubt they had any idea they would eventually end up here, and you can’t help but feel like it’s just time that’s standing between the empty spot next to them, and a picture of your own face.
You force your eyes to move away, zeroing in on the newspaper clippings collected in one corner of the board. The smiling faces of different officers greet you as you look over the articles, but there’s one in particular that catches your eye. It’s a young man, probably around your age, grinning over a large bouquet of flowers. The force of his smile makes his eyes turn into crescent moons, his cheek puffing up adorably. The clipping seems to be dated a few years back, but you’re too far away to make out the text beyond the headline, something about him heroically saving a civilian off-duty.
“What can I help you with?” You startle as the officer finally acknowledges you. He doesn’t bother to hide his annoyance as you step closer to the counter, clearly irritated that you interrupted whatever he was working on.
“I need to speak with an officer. I’ve been receiving these letters– I, uhm, I think I’m being stalked.”
The passive expression on the man’s face is broken by a slight rise of his eyebrows, the faintest spark of interest in his eyes as he turns back to his computer. ”What’s your name?”
You quickly list off all the details he asks for, the room once again growing eerily silent as he looks through the database, pulling up different files. The muffled voices you heard earlier have grown quiet, and you can’t fight the dread that sets in as the officer spares you a quick glance before turning back to his screen, the corner of his lips tugged down into a frown. ”Ms Y/n, did you file a similar report last year?”
You swallow thickly. ”Yes.”
“It says here that your report was resolved and that no further investigation was needed.”
“What?” It was obvious as the letters continued that the police hadn’t done much to stop them, that the officer clearly believed that it was just some harmless admirer, but you had at least thought they had looked into it – that they had tried to figure out who it was. "No, it wasn’t–”
The officer cuts you off with a sigh as he pushes the intercom button on his desk, voice bored as he calls out for an available officer to assist you. ”Please wait here, someone will be with you to take your statement shortly.”
The easy dismissal stings. You step back, gaze flitting back to the entrance as you begin to wonder if maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should've taken Heejun up on his offer. But before you can make up your mind to leave, the officer that was called for walks through the door near the reception desk, his head buried in a case file as he steps up to the counter.
The man you talked to visibly brightens at his entrance.
”Officer Park! I didn’t know you were still in. Didn’t your shift end an hour ago?”
You watch officer Park’s back as he shakes his head, his blonde hair bouncing with the movement. “Ah, you know how it is. I have plans for the weekend so I’m trying to finish up what I can.”
“Hard working as ever I see,” The man laughs.
Officer Park places his file down on the counter with a shrug, his voice teasing as he says, ”I assume you didn’t just call for me because you missed my company?”
The officer you talked to seems to suddenly remember that you’re still there, his gaze moving back to you before he turns to his computer with a huff. ”Someone’s here a file a report, a–” The man squints at his screen, like he’s trying hard to decipher the name he heard just a few minutes ago, ”Ms. Y/n.”
Officer Park’s back straightens suddenly, and you can practically see how his muscles tense beneath his uniform. ”Thank you, officer Lee. Do you mind taking this down to evidence for me?”
The other man nearly jumps out of his seat in his eagerness to help, a proud smile on his face as he hurries out of the room, file pressed to his chest.
You suck in a surprised breath as officer Park slowly turns around, your stomach lurching as his eyes find yours. You almost don’t register the shock on his face before he schools it into something more neutral, a pleasant smile settling on his lips as he walks closer. He feels … familiar. It takes you a moment to place his face, but a quick glance over his shoulder confirms it easily. He’s the one who saved that civilian off duty – the hero. But even then, you have a feeling you know him from somewhere else – you just can’t quite place where.
“Y/n?” Goosebumps break out over your arms as he softly utters your name. You offer a weak nod in response, the odd reaction to his voice making your throat close up.
“Let's talk at my desk.”
Officer Park seems reluctant to look away as he leads you back through the door he came through, his gaze jumping back to you with every other step. You fully ignore the ache in your foot as you match his pace, a tiny voice in the back of your mind urging you to act normal. You can’t quite figure out why he looks so worried, like you’re going to run off the moment he takes his eyes off you, but you suppose it might just be protocol regardless of what the person is there to do. He's probably just cautious.
You let your gaze wander around the open room as you follow a step behind officer Park. The large office space feels as empty as the reception. You spot three officers in total, with two working away at their desks and another one slipping into what you assume to be a break room. If you include the two officers you’ve spoken with so far, it’s only five in total. For the whole station. Most of the desks around room are completely empty, not even a pen or paper in sight.
“We had a lot of cut-backs this year, the chief was forced to let a lot of us go.” Officer Park says, voice hushed as he leads you past another desk. Heat creeps up the back of your neck as you nod, embarrassed that the confusion must be so easy to read on your face. You didn’t even know that he police could cut-back on officers.
“Here, take a seat,” You breathe out a small sigh of relief as you reach his desk, quickly sitting down on the offered chair. You wince as you move your foot, accidentally banging your swollen ankle straight into the leg of the chair.
Officer Park pauses at the sound, his hands poised over the keyboard in front of his computer. Something flits across his expression as he glances down at your leg, but the emotion is gone before you have the chance to recognize it.
“So, Ms. Y/n, what can I help you with?” You shrink back in your seat as he turns to the screen, his face unreadable as he pulls up a new file. There’s a tension in his jaw that wasn’t there before, and even though you can’t figure out why – it feels like you just did something wrong.
You reach into your bag, grabbing a few of the pink envelopes you had shoved in there earlier. All of the letters are creepy and invasive in their own way, but the pink are by far the worst. It seems like the different colours correspond to whatever mood he’s in, and the hot fuchsia always means fervently graphic descriptions.  
You place them on officer Park’s desk, twisting your fingers nervously as you say, ”I– I think I’m being stalked. I’ve been receiving these letters for about a year now, and they’ve been getting progressively more intense and uhm, descriptive. I filed a report last year, but it seems like it wasn’t looked into.”
“I see.”
You watch as officer Park unfolds the most recent letter, his body half-turned in your direction as he looks it over. His face stays blank, but mortification runs hot through your body as his eyebrows suddenly jump at one of the more extreme parts, your hands growing clammy at the slow speed he works his way through the letter.
Officer Park cocks his head as he reaches the bottom, bringing the paper closer to his face. He breathes in the heavy scent, seemingly unaffected by the sickly sweetness of the perfume that normally makes you want to gag. He raises the letter up towards the overhead lighting, but the slight shake to his head tells you that there’s nothing there, no mark or clue you might have missed yourself.
“There’s more than just the letters,” You blurt, your toes curling in your shoes at the thought of having to bring it up. But you can tell officer Park doesn’t seem overly concerned, that he’ll probably just brush it off like the first one did, and you can’t have that. ”There has been gifts too.”
It must just be a trick of the light as he shifts around, but you swear you see his mouth twitch as he folds up the letter, a hint of a smile brushing over his lips before leans forward in his seat. ”Gifts? What kind?” Officer Park asks, the calm tone of his voice not quite matching up with the intrigued spark in his eyes.
You scratch your wrist, giving yourself another second to muster up the courage. You normally don’t have a problem taking about sex or intimate details, but this–
“The gifts don't come with every letter, but sometimes they’re left in front of my door. They’re usually … sex toys,” You trail off, voice growing weaker by the end as you force out the last two words. The gifts belonging to the pink envelopes are always sexual in nature, and you’ve lost count of how many toys you’ve stored away in a box under your bed. You would never use them and it feels disgusting to keep them, but on the odd chance that it might be used as evidence, you figured it would be a bad idea to throw them away.
Officer Park hums, his dark eyes holding yours for another second before he leans back in his seat, hands folded in his lap. ”Do you mind describing what kind of toys, Ms. Y/n?”
“I’m sorry?” You squeak.
“It’s for the report,” Officer Park adds, pointing to the file on his screen. It makes sense, of course it does, but god, you would rather have the ground swallow you whole than to list off everything that has showed up at your door. You take a deep breath, clutching on the faint sliver of hope that it’ll be worth it if he might find a lead somewhere.
Stuttering your way through all the items you can think off, you try your best not to squirm in your seat as Officer Park’s intense gaze never leaves your face. You can practically feel the path his eyes take as they trail down over your features, your skin burning from the undivided attention. The heated look in his gaze twists into something half amused as you mention some of the more creative toys – the corner of his lip quirking up into a faint smirk. The sight makes your stomach turn, not quite sure whether he actually finds it funny or he’s just trying to not look too uncomfortable.
It’s only as you describe the last gift you received that you realize that Officer Park hasn’t written anything down – the document still blank on the computer beside him.  
The eggs you had for lunch roll dangerously around in your stomach, the weird feeling you had since entering the station only intensifying the longer you stay. Why hasn’t he written anything down? Isn’t that basic protocol?
Officer Park’s voice startles you out of your thoughts before you can spiral further.  ”Well, Ms. Y/n, I believe you’re correct to think that there has been an escalation in both the content and frequency of the letters and gifts you’ve been receiving.”
You grip your bag tighter as you register his words, your heart skipping a beat with hopeful excitement. The confirmation makes you a little light-headed. Finally. Finally, there’s someone who actually believes you and is going to help.
But your relief is short lived, barely even having time to settle down before it’s torn away again. Officer Park rests his hand on his desk, fingertip grazing the edge of one of the letters as he lets out a small sigh. Words of gratitude die on the tip of your tongue as he continues, ”However, even though they are a bit forward, the person behind them doesn’t seem to have any ill intentions. There are no threats being made, and nothing to suggest that they want to hurt you – quite the opposite, really.”
You blink.
“What?”
“I understand that this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but there’s nothing in the letters or on the envelopes that could help us to track him down even if we wanted to. I can keep one of them and try to do a fingerprint analysis, but I doubt it’ll yield any results. The letters were likely dropped off in a post box, and I’m assuming all the packages you received were from different companies?”
You can only nod, disappointment burying itself deep into your bones as you slump down in your seat.
Officer Park’s face softens. ”It’s a classic tactic that makes it nearly impossible for us to track them down because it’s touched by so many different people. You really don’t have any inkling as to who might have sent you these?”
“No.” You bite down on the inside of your cheek, not enough to really hurt, but just enough to keep the moisture forming in your eyes at bay.
“I’m very sorry Ms. Y/n, but my hands are tied here, there’s nothing I can really investigate when your safety hasn’t been explicitly threatened.” Officer Park says, apologetic.
“I-I understand,” You mumble.
“Is there anything else you can think of that might help?”
“No, there’s nothing else ..” You pause, suddenly very aware of the weight in your lap. After all, you didn’t just bring the pink envelopes, you brought a few of each colour. Even if the letters don’t outright threaten you, maybe the rest of them could be enough to convince officer Park that the person behind them isn’t mentally stable? That he seems to have seven very different personalities, and that he needs help?
“Actually–”
“Park!” A booming voice calls out for Officer Park just as you reach into your bag to grab them, the echo bouncing around the half-empty floor.
“We have a suspected two-seventeen. Take Lee with you to investigate!”
“Yes, sir!” Officer Park yells back, hands already reaching for the badge and empty holster resting on this desk.
You hurriedly rise from your seat as he gets to his feet, forcing down a wince as you step back to give him more space, letters forgotten. Officer Park glances at you from the corner of his eye as he shrugs his jacket on, looking reluctant as he pats down his pockets to make sure he has everything.
“I’m very sorry to cut this short Ms. Y/n, but I have to go. I’ll make sure to file your report later and crosscheck it with the one you filed last year. I have a good memory for details, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Officer Park flashes you a quick smile, his eyes scrunching up prettily just as they did in the picture out front.
He grabs a small card from his desk; making sure to underline a number before he extends it in your direction. Puzzled, you reach out to take it, stifling a small gasp as his fingers wrap securely around yours, trapping your hand in his. The contact makes your skin crawl, the warmth of his touch making you even more uncomfortable than you were before. The feeling leaves you a little dumbfounded, because you can’t really understand why. Heejun has never made you feel this way when he touched you.
A faint whiff of something sweet hits your nose as he steps closer, Officer Park sounding urgent as he says, ”If you remember something later, or if anything, anything at all happens, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
You look down at the card in your hand, the name barely visible between your fingers. Officer Park Jimin.  
“Thank you, officer,” You plaster on a weak smile, tugging your hand away from Jimin’s grasp. The prickling in your neck immediately subsides as you take another step back, the distance calming your racing heart.
“Jimin,” Officer Park curls his outstretched hand into a loose fist as it drops back down by his side, ”Just Jimin is fine.”
Even though someone is urgently yelling for him to hurry up from a nearby hallway, Jimin’s gaze stays locked on to you, his body rooted in place. Waiting.
“Thank you, Jimin,” You repeat, your tongue heavy and uncooperative as it curls around his name.
A shiver seems to suddenly travel through his body despite the layers he’s wearing, something heated flashing in his eyes. He clears his throat, voice sounding a little strained as he says, ”Another officer will show you out. Remember to call if anything happens, Ms. Y/n.”
He spares you another hesitant gaze before he’s forced to run off, only slowing down enough to point another officer in your direction. You watch his back until he rounds the corner, some of the pressure in your chest lessening the moment he’s out of sight. You try to shake the weird feeling off, turning back to Jimin’s desk to pick up the letters he left there. Even though it makes your stomach curl to bring them back home, you would much rather do that and keep them as evidence in case something else happens, over the station just discarding them.
You get them securely back in your bag just as the officer Jimin talked to reaches you. You follow him silently back the way you came, allowing the resentment to grow for each step you get closer to the exit.
You release a shuddering breath the moment you step outside the station, letting the crisp autumn air fill your lungs as you inhale. A humourless snort slips past your lips as you begin to walk away. You’re honestly not even that surprised that nothing came of your visit, you’re just disappointed. Tired.
What good does it do for Jimin to file another report when he’s not going to follow up with it? When he couldn’t even spare you enough time to get all the evidence? It’s not like having his number is going to help you if he can’t investigate until after you get hurt.  
You hoist your bag higher on your shoulder, scowling at the biting wind that sweeps down the street. You’re sick of always looking over your shoulder and being harassed. You're not willing to just sit around in your apartment and wait for someone to come along and hurt you. If the police aren't going to help, then you’ll just have to solve this yourself.
It’s not like you have much left to lose.
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a/n: welcome to lovesick! this is the story that was born out of my 5k follower event, where you guys chose all the major details of the story! i’m thinking this might be a five parter, but we’ll see. the other boys will be introduced in the next chapters! 
ps. i’m not doing taglists anymore, sorry :(
please like/reblog/comment if you enjoyed, it helps me out a lot!
see you all soon, stay safe! <3 if you’d like to support me, you can buy me a ko-fi! 💖
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galahadwilder · a month ago
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ML Soulmate AU where Adrien realizes “everything you write on your body shows up on your soulmate’s” means that he can talk to them basically whenever so 11-year-old Marinette keeps getting woken up at 3 AM with her skin suddenly saying “What’s your favorite dinosaur” and she’s like “IT’S 3 AM I NEED TO SLEEP” and Adrien’s like “but what is it tho”
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meliapis · 18 days ago
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there are windows to the soul(mate)
summary: It's just another in and out job, but with hints of her soulmate being nearby, Jinx hopes there will be more to come from it.
trigger warnings: arcane episode 3 spoilers kinda, nightmares, illegal activity
Powder/Jinx x nb/gn!reader
lumen - the physical embodiment of your soulmate.
lumens take on the form of a small ball of light and vary in color from person to person. when you meet your soulmate your lumen will emit a bright light and upon brushing with your soulmate’s lumen they both will give off a flash of light.
She could smell the smoke again, reaching down into her throat to obstruct the airflow as she fought to speak. The tears were running down her cheeks, their warmth leaving behind ice cold trails as the night air blew over her.
“I was only trying to help. I was only trying to help. I was only trying to help—”
Stop it, she thinks, shaking her head somewhere else. She grabs at something, searching for anything else. I don’t want to see this anymore!
“I told you to stay away!”
Stop it—
“You’re a jinx, Powder. You’ll always be a jinx!”
“Don’t leave me! Come back! Vi, please! Violet! Don’t leave me!”
Stop it, stop it, sTOp IT!
Her body throws itself up into a sitting position, spine aching as she screams into her hands, shoulders digging into her neck as she curls inwards. She can feel herself collapsing again, the memories flashing by and the sting of a hand cracking across her face.
“I only wanted to help!” she screams, nails scratching across her cheeks as she clamps her hands down on her ears. The whispers are needling their way into her thoughts, blaming and blaming still. They laugh and mock her as she shakes her head sobbing into the darkness. “Make it stop. Be quiet, I can’t think! Leave me alone!”
Something brushes against the back of her neck and she goes flying, gun cocking as she swings around. She’s taking in large gulps of air when she spots the little light at the end of her barrel, suspended in the pitch black of her room. You give off a hazy gleam, the generally cool-toned white dimmer as you drift up over the metal nozzle, following up her long, lithe arm to brush against her face. Jinx only notices the tears, then, the moisture spreading with her lumen’s gentle prodding.
“I’m sorry,” she wheezes out, voice sharp as she takes in another ragged breath. “I’m sorry, I’d never hurt you—I’m sorry.”
She drops the gun on the mattress, issuing both hands to cup you and keep you close. She melts with your soft kisses and responds with one of her own.
“Don’t leave me,” she sobs, trembling as her head falls forwards between her arms. Her braids shift over her shoulders, weighing her down as she trembles. “I don’t want to be alone.”
You blink, almost demanding that she look up as she keeps you caged in her hands. When she releases you, you go right back to rolling over her face and she knows.
You will never leave her.
She’s up top to guard another shipment of shimmer, the same group of goons and thugs she has known since Silico took her in around her. They sneer with every glimpse of her, every reminder that she exists in the same space. They arrive at dusk and by the time everything is completed, night has fallen and they are retreating to the underground.
At the back of the group with her belt clinking with every step, tools and weapons left unutilized from a smooth trade, she stops short of the alleyway they take. No one notices, shoving each other around and grumbling a round of drinks is in order for a job well done.
Jinx blows a weak raspberry at the lot before her lumen floats into her periphery. She smiles at your quiet humming, reminiscent of a cat’s purr as your white light glows steadily.
“Am I crazy or do you get prettier every second?” she whispers, tapping her beloved with a chipped pink-polished nail. You wiggle at her touch, drifting back towards the street. Her round eyes go wider at the distance you make. “Come back here, where do you think you’re going?”
She giggles as she follows after you, hair whipping behind her as she gives chase. When she swipes for you, you dodge and it isn’t until she is almost a block down that she realizes your light is steadily getting brighter and brighter.
“You’re here,” she whispers, chest tight as she quickens her pace, darting across the street and pulling you into an alley when a pair of enforcers turn the corner. She hides you in her shirt for a moment or two, blocking your brilliance until the threat is gone. When she’s sure the two of you are safe, she releases you and follows closely.
“Where are you taking me?” she chirps, eyes roving over the darkened shop district as she ducks behind a brick wall. Her nose wrinkles at the smell of the dumpster behind her.
Out on the sidewalks, there are still some people milling about, but you have seemed to stop moving, your light almost painful to take in as you hover next to her temple.
Checking her surroundings, Jinx spots the shop she hides next to. A florist. The windows are dark, the sign hanging against the glass reading “CLOSED.”
Humming, Jinx grabs you and steps back, observing. She smirks when she spies a steel walkway above her.
Glancing at your bright form, she tucks you into her shirt again, right against her heart, and clambers atop a dumpster before jumping. Her hands hook over the railing, fingers curling tight as she pulls herself up onto the walkway with a grunt. The metal groans with every movement. She doesn’t waste any time, going straight for the first window in sight. She finds it unlocked much to her fortune.
The room she slinks into is as dark as the shop out front. With your light protruding through her shirt, she can tell it’s a bedroom. A twin is shoved into the left corner and bookshelves line the opposite wall. The smell of dirt and fresh plants is strong; she pinpoints a few succulents scattered about.
“Green thumb, huh?” she murmurs, taking a slow spin to soak everything in. Plants are hard to come by back home, flowers even more so.
Before she starts towards the open door, she pauses, hair sweeping past her ankles with the sway of her sudden stop. Everything hits at once, the situation she finds herself in.
“Is it breaking and entering if you’re finding your soulmate?” she asks, familiar whispers tickling her thoughts as she pulls you free of your fabric confinement. You take the lead, right back to where you left off. The intensity of your light answers her prior question as you float through the doorway:
Anything is worth doing if you’re the end goal.
Jinx peeks her head out, the small hall empty save for a few pictures hanging on the wall. It’s too dark to study the photos, faces all blurring into one dark mass. At left end of the corridor, the apartment is dark, at the other, a warm lamp reveals the corner of a cozy-looking den. A colorful rug stretches across the ground, trapped under a three-legged glass table. There are more pots and plants—flora and fauna stockpiled on shelves and hanging from the ceiling.
Jinx ducks back into the room, painfully aware as she glimpses two bare feet on the section of the couch she sees from her position. Glancing up, she gasps and steps out to make a grab for her lumen, but you are out of reach and hankering to drag her into the living room.
Biting her lip, she shimmies in place, calling after you quietly. Fear seizes her by the throat as you hesitate for a moment as if hearing her plea. Still, you pass the threshold and disappear around the corner
Jinx lays frozen, prepared to see those feet swing down off the couch and question why there is a rogue lumen wandering around their home. But there is nothing. No reaction once so ever.
Are they asleep? She keeps her footsteps light as she tiptoes down the hall, practically a second coat of paint on the wall as she slides. At the end, she takes a quick glance and finds the person on the couch is in some state of rest. They’re wearing headphones, soft music barely reaching her ears. She can’t make out their face—they’re turned away from her—but the way her lumen hovers in the air above next to another lumen that is the exact same shade as her hair, it's as plain as day who it is.
Taking a deep breath, she crosses her arms and steps into the den, her focus on the lumens as they dance around one another. Cocking her head to the side, she blows her hair out of her face and nods to the orbs as if it’ll give them the push they need. Somehow, it does.
She can feel the world fall away when they bump and an explosion goes off. They say it’s just a quick flash but she can see everything in it, feel everything in it. This is the day everything changes for the better. Or so they say.
On the couch, you jump as something lights up behind your closed eyelids and bolt upright. Your headphones go tumbling off your head and onto the floor, comfort music cutting into reality as you see a complete stranger standing mere feet from you. The way she’s dressed, you doubt she lives around her, and the fact she’s trespassed has warning bells going off in your head.
You and the girl meet eyes for a few seconds and she smiles, almost unsure before you stutter out, “A-are you robbing me?”
She balks at the question like it isn’t the first thing to ask when someone you don’t know (and didn’t let in) is standing in your apartment.
“What?” she trills, head tilting.
“Listen I don’t have much,” you start, beginning to shake as you catch sight of her belt. It’s heavy with all sorts of torture equipment—is that a grenade? Oh god, did someone send a mercenary after you from the undercity? When the hell did you become important enough to kill?
“No, wait, I’m not a robber!” She raises both hands and you flinch. The hurt expression that crosses her face nearly has you feeling guilty, but you are still scared shitless with the weapons on her person. “See, thing is my lumen lit up while I was walking by and, I just…”
She fumbles with her words, hands swishing through the air. You watch her ankle-length braids jump with her movements and find even in your state of terror that you appreciate her aesthetic and round eyes. She’s cute for a burglar.
Don’t swoon over the person who might kill you in three seconds!
“Wait,” you backtrack, zeroing in on her words, “your lumen lit up so you broke into my apartment?”
“Let me start over!” she cackles, grin too big as she shakes her head and lays a hand on her chest. “I’m your soulmate.”
You look up at the lumens, breath hitching when you recognize your little hydrangea is sticking close to a similar-sized, white light. In your dazed mental state—you hadn’t been napping per se, just mindlessly listening to some music—you had completely missed their miniature forms and the fact the girl’s hair color is a spitting image of your lumen.
“So you…broke in to find me?” you ask carefully, still finding the situation odd.
She giggles weakly, rubbing a hand up and down her arm as she sways back and forth. The way she hunches forward, you feel like she’s trying to hide from the world. “I’m sorry, it’s just…complicated?”
“Seems so,” you agree, reaching down to grab your headphones. Setting them on the table in front of you, you glance up and meet her gaze again, finding yourself nervous for a whole new reason as you run a hand over your hair. She has gorgeous eyes and the way they look at you, you suddenly feel important enough to kill. Thank the gods you’re just some florist with next to no friends.
You go about introducing yourself and that is all it takes to have her beaming with such vivid excitement. Intertwining her hands behind her back, she leans forward, her lithe shape showing off her balance as she bends in half. You get a good view of her tattoos, all blue just like her.
“I’m Pow—“ she stops herself, brow furrowing as the happiness drains from her smile, “well, I’m…”
You could see there was a real struggle going on in her head despite such a simple question. She raises a hand to her temple, muttering something under her breath as she straightens up and turns away.
“Not now,” she whispers.
“Are you okay?” you ask, standing. She nods furiously, whipping back towards you so fast her hair goes flying. You watch it trail around her frame, swirling in a perfect arc.
“Yeah, mm-hmm! Totally 100 percent,” she hurries out, extending a strained smile that makes the muscles in your face ache. “It’s, well—"
“Complicated?” you tease. The concern on her face softens when she catches you grinning, playful and gentle in your demeanor. “It’s okay. I know my apartment isn’t much, but it’s always a safe space. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” she says, voice tight, one of her pale hands kneading at the knuckles of the other, “there’s just so much. I don’t…” She looks away, eyes coasting over the floor as her shoulders drop along with her volume. “I don’t wanna jinx anything.”
Humming, you lift your hand to brush the back of it against your—now her—lumen. She is everything in person that you had seen in the years since this piece of her had come home to you. Your little hydrangea never stops or stills, she has to be everywhere at once until her energy is drained dry. She keeps you on your toes and with your rather relaxed environment, it comes off as refreshing. The days are always exciting with her by your side.
“I have a nickname for you, you know,” you say softly, grabbing her attention again as you cup your hand around her lumen and carry it close to your heart. Yours returns to her, rubbing under her jaw and pulling a small huff of laughter free.
“Really?” she asks, perking up with the new subject. “What?”
“You can probably tell I really like plants.” You motion around the room where green is always within eyesight. “I own the flower shop downstairs.”
“I figured.” She whirls around, arms dancing. “The air is insanely fresh in here!”
You laugh, enjoying how expressive she is with her body language. “I’m glad you like them.”
“Did you nickname me after a plant?”
“Right on the nose,” you praise, and she brandishes a toothy smile in response, all too happy to be correct. “I call you my hydrangea, sometimes, because you’re so blue.”
She grabs one of her braids, spinning it at her side as she smiles into her shoulder. “That’s nice. I’ve never seen hydrangeas before, I don’t think.”
“They’re very pretty and have a lot of symbolism,” you tell her as she hums, blinking at you.
“Like what?”
“Well, one of their meanings is good luck, you know? So I guess you could say,” you hold her lumen up higher in your palm as you smile, “you’re my little good luck charm.”
You aren’t able to tell if you said the right or wrong thing when her eyes well with tears. Her lips quiver as she glances around the room, arms wrapping around herself as she sniffs.
“I’m sorry, was that wrong of me to say?” you ask quickly. She’s quick to shake her head, dropping back one step as she takes a breath.
“No, no. That’s…” She sighs and shrugs, eyes rolling as they begin to flush red from irritation. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time,” she whispers, a few tears breaking free and rolling down her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“Would you like something to drink?” you ask. “I have water, tea, juice…”
She sniffs, wiping her eyes dry with her fingers. You notice how long her nails are with the movement, colored in blue and pink interchangeably.
“You got apple juice?” she asks carefully.
“I have a whole gallon.” Her face has you biting back a laugh. She stares at you like she just won something big. “C’mon, I’ll fix you as many glasses as you want.”
In the kitchen, she asks about the plants hanging by the window. You bask in her interest in your life hobby, telling every name of every one and even a few of the new flowers that will be coming to your shop in a week or so. She listens to you through it all, throwing in the type of commentary only she can give. It always leaves you smiling and the subjects go anywhere and everywhere.
“So did you pick my door lock or something to get in?”
“Oh, no! I came in through your bedroom window!”
“That was unlocked?!”
Hours go by before the two of you know it. The sun is soon to rise when you glance at the clock, much too comfortable on the couch with her to even think of going to bed or asking her to leave. Her presence fills a void that has been there for some time and with the way she’s warming up to you, you think she feels the same way.
“Do you want to stay?” you ask shyly. “I practically sleep on the couch every night; you’re more than welcome to my bed.”
She’s exuberant at your offer, eyes glinting and still so animated despite the lack of sleep as she leans closer on one arm. You prepared for her to accept, ready to grab her some spare clothes and plan a nice (late) breakfast. It’s your day off and you can spend all of it getting to know her better, finding out what she likes to eat, what her favorite flowers are. She has already mentioned she grew up in the underground and that plants and flowers like yours are few and far between. You’ll show her everything this side of the surface has to offer.
But then her smile falls and you know the answer before she gives it.
“I want to,” she says, regret clear on her face.
“It’s okay,” you promise, slowly reaching for the hand supporting her. When she doesn’t flinch or move away you let your palm settle over her cold knuckles. She turns her hand over so fast you barely have time to react before her fingers are weaving between yours. Her face is flushed when you look at her again, brow furrowed with sorrow. “We have all the time in the world to get to know each other. You can stay another night.”
She nods, the disappointment seeping into her body language as she sinks lower and lower into the couch. Her grip on your hand tightens, your warmth slowly seeping into her skin and chasing away the chill that clings to them.
“I have to get back,” she murmurs, but makes no move to leave, “they’re probably wondering where I am and the sun’ll be up soon, so…”
“I’ll be here,” you promise her, eyes widening as you turn away. “Wait, let me get something real quick before you leave!”
“O-okay!” she chirps, staying put. She pouts as your hand slips out of hers, continuing to reach after you for a few, lingering moments as you hurry into the kitchen. Her lumen trails after you, the sound of a door opening and closing echoing.
As she waits, your lumen trails back and forth over her shoulders, your softness easing the tension there as she exhales and reclines back into the couch. A minute ticks by when she discerns a notepad on the table. A smile blossoms on her lips.
As soon as you open your front door and shuffle through the kitchen, you spot your soulmate upright and beaming, hands clasping her knees as she watches you enter the room. Your gift rustles in your hands, newspapering crinkling. You chuckle when she tries to lift her chin higher to see over the wrapping.
“Here,” you offer it to her once you’re close enough to do so, “hydrangeas for my hydrangea.”
She gasps at the bouquet of bright petals, hands falling over her mouth.
“Oh, wow, they’re beautiful!” She laughs as she accepts them from you, taking a deep breath of their subtle sweetness before brushing the pads of her fingers over them. You wonder if you should mention that their smooth texture is so close to that of her lumen. “Are you sure I can have these?”
“Of course,” you assure her. “Just be sure to put them face down in some water overnight. They’ll last longer that way.”
“Thank you,” she mumbles behind the bouquet, hugging them close and her eyes glitter with immense awe. “I’ll come back soon, I promise!”
“I look forward to it.” You glance around for a moment, patting your hands over your thighs. “So, uh, do you want to take the front door this time or…?”
“Back through the window is probably the best.”
There is still so much you want to ask her, but you steel yourself and follow her down the hall to your dark room. You stand by the window with her as she places one leg over the ledge, shoulder leaning against the window as she holds her bouquet securely at her hip.
“Be safe down there, okay?” you say, hugging yourself as a cold draft sneaks in. “I don’t know much about the underground and I don’t want to assume anything, I just…”
Her hand lands just above your elbow as she leans the slightest bit closer.
“It’s okay. I’ll be careful.”
Taking a deep breath, you lift your hand and glide your knuckles over the side of her face. The yellow light of approaching dawn just barely creeps into your room, but the glow of your lumens circling you both make it to where you can see the little freckles peeking through the skin of her nose.
When you cup her face, she leans into it and it’s all you can do not to beg her to stay just a bit longer.
“I’m glad you broke in,” you whisper, nudging her forehead with your own. She giggles and nudges you back. “See you soon.”
Stepping back and separating from her, you watch her maneuver out onto the fire escape without any difficulty. Once she’s out, she places a hand on the window to curl upside down and peek back in.
“Make sure to lock this,” she says, clinking her nails against the glass with a wink.
You nod, speechless, and she pushes off the pane, blowing you a kiss as she leaps over the railing backward. You gasp and scamper out onto the escape, seeing her land with an agility that straight up astounds you. She waves up at you, keeping her bouquet close to her chest as she takes off down the alley, your lumen clinging to her shoulder. You watch her take a sharp left turn just as the sun rises, her braids whipping out of sight as rays of light reach up the main street to your left.
Sighing as your heart attack fades, you head back inside, shutting and locking your window and cradling her lumen against your neck. You return to your living room to turn off the lights when you spot your notepad on the table. Peeking out of it, a piece of paper lays folded with a heart drawn on it,
Excited, you pull it free and hurry to unfold it, reading over her eccentric handwriting as your heart beats a happy rhythm against your ribs.
I’ll be back soon, I promise.
And to FINALLY answer your question,
my name is Powder.
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buck-nialled · a year ago
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we’ve all heard of the NSFW alphabet, but what about a SOULMATE AU ALPHABET??
a...ging stops at 18 until you find your soulmate so the two of you can grow old together.
b...ody art (doodles that a person draws on themselves appear on their soulmate’s skin).
c...olors (aka the standard soulmate au where the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate and see colors).
d...amage done to a person also translates into their soulmate’s body (cuts, bruises and all).
e...sp (soulmates can sense one another’s presence and feel each other’s exact emotions even when miles away).
f...irst words/thoughts your soulmate says/thinks when seeing you are written on your skin.
g...uardian (it is said that the person who saves you from a near-death experience is your soulmate—drowning, car crash, etc.)
h...eartbeats (the soulmates share the same heartbeat—when one feels panicked, shocked, etc, the other can feel it too).
i...dentifier (a word or symbol which is imputed to your soulmate is somewhere on your body).
j...uxtaposition (your soulmate is the exact opposite of you, yet you find yourselves complementing one another).
k...eys and locks are randomly dispersed to soulmates on chains when they are born. when in proximity, the lock and key will act as magnets and bring the two soulmates closer together until the key is placed in the lock and a gratifying click is heard, unlocking the chain.
l...ast words your soulmate says are written on your skin, so you do not know it is them until they are gone.
m...arks or stains of the color black are somewhere on your body (palm of your hand, knuckles, knee) until you and your soulmate finally make physical contact. once the mark is touched, it fades to be consistent with the person’s skin color.
n...urse (the touch of a soulmate can heal you from affliction and vice versa).
o...pportune outfit (soulmates will eternally color coordinate, even if they have not met one another yet, and often times have similar patterns in their clothing).
p...assionflower (a type of flower soulmates have planted somewhere beneath their skin. Upon meeting their soulmate it will sprout through the skinand fully blossom as they reach the furthest point of their relationship. when a soulmate passes, the flower blooming from the other person does also).
q...uizzes revolving around one’s personal aspects, skills and ambitions are given to every person once they turn 18, and the results read who your soulmate is based off of your collective answers.
r...ed string bonds two soulmates together for a lifetime and all come in varying lengths—imagine the trouble of only being able to walk certain distances or having to sleep on the edge of your bed.
s...ongbird (any songs a person sings will get stuck in their soulmate’s head for the duration they decide to sing it).
t...imers are set on the wrist of every person once they are a certain age, slowly counting down until the day they meet their soulmate.
u...ndying (you and your soulmate must meet in order to end life—die—together. as long as you have not met them, you will continue aging yet remain immortal).
v...eiled (you and your soulmate must walk through life blind until running into one another by fate and finally gaining sight—those with no soulmate act as guides and help those in search of theirs).
w...riter’s choice (author can pick any au from the list to write).
x...FREE SPACE, the person who sent the prompt has the choice to make up an au or choose one from the list!
y...ellow fellow (colors of your vision changes depending on your soulmates mood. yellow is optimistic, green is envious, blue is upset, etc. and natural colors become present once the soulmates meet).
z...zz (in which soulmates first meet each other and share memories in their dreams before meeting each other in person—sometimes difficult to accomplish as dreams are hard to remember).
any writers on tumblr feel free to reblog so followers can send a certain letter to your inbox :) or just for ideas!
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Soulmate AUs
Imprint - the soulmate’s touch will leave an imprint on their skin, aka Destiel ‘gripped you tight’
Sense8 - being telepathically connected to your soulmate no matter where in the world they are (and speaking and understanding their language)
Markings - a soulmate mark that only the soulmates have in common
Platonic soulmates - there are different types of soulmates, some are romantic, some are platonic, some are familial (x)
Tattoo - when they reach a certain age, a tattoo shows up on their bodies that they have in common
Eye-colour - only being able to see everything in the colour of their soulmate’s eyes
Grey to multi-coloured - only being able to see grey until they meet their soulmate
Sharing injuries - receiving the same injuries (to a lesser extent) that their soulmate suffers from
Empathy - sharing the same emotions as their soulmate when they are close by
Names - their soulmate’s name is written on their body (maybe only initials)
First Word - the first word/sentence they hear their soulmate say is written on their body
Timer - everyone has a timer that’s counting down till they meet their soulmate
Dreamy - seeing their soulmate’s dreams or being able to communicate with them in their dreams
Biggest secret - everyone knows their soulmate’s biggest secret (even if it’s from the future)
No harm done - soulmates are not able to hurt each other physically
Sharing songs - being able to share songs with their soulmate in their heads
Clock - everyone has a clock that shows the time zone their soulmate is in
Taste - only being able to taste anything after meeting their soulmate
Smell - being able to smell what their soulmate is smelling
Danger alert - people can feel when their soulmate is in danger
Tell no lie - it’s impossible to lie to your soulmate
Voice in their head - the voice in their head is their soulmate’s voice
Sharing birthdays - soulmates are born on the same day, share the first breath with each other
Tugging - being able to feel a tug in the direction of your soulmate if they are feeling a strong emotion
Different soulmates - people are not necessarily their soulmate’s soulmate
Specific scenarios:
First Word = the sentence that they will hear their soulmate say, is a very common saying or a catchphrase from a TV show
Sharing injuries = people hurting themselves in unique ways to find their soulmate is getting out of hand
Soulmate Trip = people are going on trips as soon as they are 18 to find their soulmate
TV shows/social media = it’s pretty popular to watch how people try to find their soulmates
Tell no lie = the soulmates meet in a situation where it’s very important to lie to each other
Shamefulness = their soulmate bond is not being seen as appropriate, for whatever reason
Defiance = not wanting to let fate run their lives, some people actively try to avoid meeting their soulmates
Sharing songs = they keep hearing songs that they can’t find on the internet, finally realizing that they are their soulmate’s own, unpublished songs
Sharing songs = they keep hearing songs that only become famous months later, finally realizing that their soulmate is involved in producing those popular songs
Danger alert = their soulmate is constantly in danger and as soon as they meet, they will have a word with them for worrying them so much
I hope you all enjoy the AU ideas :)
If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee! 🥰
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fomalhaut89 · 10 months ago
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‘Step with me’.
Here’s my full piece for @destinedzine. I got a huge pleasure working with wonderful and crazy talented @wittyy-name and ohhh what a joy
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moonlightsolo · 14 days ago
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Hi so I'm hoping you get this request I'm obsessed with harry fanfics lately so I was wonder about a soulmate AU where u have the same tattoo mark as your soulmate and if u make eye contact with your soulmate it lights up and at a harry concert when you are dancing and he turns to you to make fun of you (in his way) it lights up that everyone can see in the stadium?
forever
wc: 5k
warnings: smooching, mild language, and it will pull at your heartstrings
pairing: harry styles x female reader
a/n: i took this idea and rode into the sunset. also when you see * play the song!!
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harry styles, also known as the man of your dreams.
if someone would ask you what your type is in men, you’ll just show a picture of him.
the british man lives in your head rent-free.
as long as you could remember, you’ve had a birthmark on the inside of your arm. once you’ve gotten old enough, your parents explained to you that your soulmate shares the same mark in the same place. you remember looking at your parents shared mark, longing for the same experience.
as you continuously stared at your skin over the years, the mark slowly formed into a skin colored shape that almost resembles a pumpkin.
every date you’ve been on slowly turned into a boring task of only showing it off. once you realized they didn’t match, you’d be on your way.
you’re convinced that you’ll never meet your soulmate, or maybe you just don’t have one.
but harry styles, he’s your rock. the one you turn to when you’re feeling hopeless. his music keeps you company as you swipe absentmindedly through tinder.
in all seriousness though, you’ve followed harry since his younger days. now that he is a successful solo artist it’s become a goal to attend one of his concerts.
so when his live on tour dates dropped, you jumped on it so quickly. unfortunately, you could only afford nosebleeds but it was so much fun to experience.
then his next album fine line came out in twenty-nineteen, and you just about died. it was amazing. the most ethereal and brilliant album. it’s heaven to your ears.
love on tour dates dropped next, and you thankfully signed up for pre-sale, and bought face value lane one pit tickets for you and your friend. you may or may have not screamed when the order was finalized.
sooner than later, the day has come. after being rescheduled for a year later because of covid, the concert date is finally here.
you and your friend wear coordinating outfits dedicated to songs on the album. you wore a black silk dress with red cherries printed on it, platform boots, a leather jacket, and numerous cherry accessories. your friend had on brighter pink outfit with a strawberry sweater vest and a pink leather skirt.
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the excitement bubbling through your body as you both get barricade makes you want to cry, but you couldn’t mess up your makeup.
“is this for real?” your friend asks with a shaky voice.
“he’s going to be so close to us.” you mumble in shock.
when jenny lewis performs you can’t help but scream as she comes to your side. she’s gorgeous and dressed in an amazing outfit. when she’s done, your nerves are buzzing and your mark is itching under your jacket.
you sip at your water here and there in attempt to calm your anxiety.
“oh my god my arm is so itchy.” you whine in annoyance as you reach under your jacket to scratch your mark.
“isn’t that where your mark is?” she whispers that specific word into your ear and raises her eyebrows provocatively.
you roll your eyes are her no so subtle hints, “no it’s just itchy. it’s always itchy.” you lie through your teeth as you drop your hand back down to your side.
“yeah… okay.” she giggles, obviously seeing right through you.
as the whole arena sings through the playlist playing on the loud speakers, the thought sits heavy in the back of your head. why is your mark itchy, almost burning?
your heart is beating faster than ever, maybe you’re having a heart attack?
you didn’t even realize the room has dimmed and the intro song has begun. you can feel your friends hand on your back, “y/n, are you okay?”
you nod to tell her yes as your eyes look up to watch the stage. the band is already on there. how did you miss this?
oh my god. harry styles. he’s rising out of the stage like a god.
“oh my god. look! it’s him! y/n! it’s him!” your friend is jumping and screaming as she pounds her hands on your arm.
suddenly, you feel like your breathing has returned to normal. as if an obstruction in your lungs has cleared.
it’s really him. harry fucking styles.
“golden, golden, golden as i open my eyes. hold it, focus, hoping- take my back to the light…”
his infamous smirk sends shivers down your spine. you can tell that performing makes him so ecstatic.
his fingers expertly move on the guitar as he sways to the loud music.
you can’t help but gawk at him in awe. looking over his exposed tattoos, his pink lips, the slight stubble on face. he looks so different than his previous tour. more mature, but still the harry you’ve known and grown up with. he’s singing the song so beautifully.
“i know that you’re scared because hearts get broken.”
you didn’t even realize he sang through the whole song already.
“hello everyone!” he yells into the mic, a giant smile on his face. he gives his thanks to everyone before starting carolina.
you watch as he dances and sings, but his eyebrows knit together almost in pain.
“she’s a good girl, oh such a good girl.”
“what was that about?” your friend says to you and you shrug, also confused.
“yeah, she’s a good girl. she’s feels so good.”
he drops his guitar for a second to itch the inside of his arm then picks up along with his band. all six of them are looking amongst themselves with confusion written on their faces.
some of the fans in the stadium are talking amongst themselves during the music and screaming.
you watch him closely throughout the song. he seems a little unfocused but other than that he’s fine.
he goes through adore you like a breeze.
he finishes the song with a smile and wave. he blows kisses to countless fans and reads a few signs.
he finally comes around to your side of the stage, you scream, wave and jump like a lunatic.
he runs across the edge of the stage hunched down to blow kisses repeatedly to everyone. he grabs his mic off the stand, pulling it along with him.
“let’s see…” he mumbles into the mic as his eyes rake the crowd. you scream and wave your hands to get his attention. he smiles in your direction, “you’re dressed as the saddest song on my album, you know that right?”
his green eyes finally land upon yours as he stops in front of you.
a searing pain burns into your arm, making you hiss and instinctively you open your jacket to look at your mark. a soft golden glow is emitting from your arm.
you quickly close your jacket over your body again to hide the light. your eyes widen as you look back up to harry who is staring at you with the same look in his eyes.
you squint to see a soft golden color also coming through the fabric of his thin shirt. the crowd begins to scream as they all start to notice.
it’s obviously much harder to hide in a stadium with cameras on him from every angle. his head repeatedly turns. he hooks the mic back up to the stand closest to him as his bandmates leave their instruments to walk up to him.
you can’t make out what he’s saying but he then he presses against his ear piece to hear something. his shoulders drop in defeat as he jogs up to his microphone again, “i’m so so sorry everyone, but i have to go. please keep an eye out for a rescheduled date. i love you all.” he presses a kiss to his fingertips and raises his hand in the air to wave. his eyes are glassy, he’s definitely emotional. he instantly begins to sprint across the stage and down the catwalk to his bodyguards.
the whole stadium screams in anguish, people are crying, some are cursing him out. the large screens hanging above you cut to black and the house lights turn back on.
the band seems so stressed as they put their instruments in place and begin to walk off the stage calmly. pauli picks up all the random items people are throwing onto the stage, his arms and body are covered in various things.
“y/n?! what are we going to do?” your friend screams at you, but you completely ignore her as you push your way through the crowd. “y/n! what are you doing? wait!!!”
your phone notifications continuously go off as your twitter app is blowing up with numerous tweets from other harries.
@harrysbestie768 OMFG DKXJFJDL HARRY JUST LEFT THE STAGE BECAUSE HIS SOULMATE MARK STARTED GLOWING!!!!!!???
@stylesiscool338 harry literally just stopped mid concert bc his soulmate mark started to glow. lmao wtf. i am so jealous.
@_harryswife no way harry’s SOULMATE MARK IS GLOWING AND ITS NOT BC OF ME!!!! crying rn. don’t text or call 😭😭😭😭😭
you lock your phone and put it on silent as you sprint to where the barricade stops closest to the backstage area. you force yourself through the growing crowd, not paying attention to the people cursing at you for pushing them. “i’m sorry.” you say with a strained voice.
your hand reaches the metal barrier, your eyes searching for the band. there’s so many people claiming that they’re his soulmate. “take me back! it was me! it was me!” a girl screams next to you, “no it was me!” someone screams from behind you.
pure terror runs through you as you rip your jacket off to throw it at them, but it lands on the concrete floor beside them as they walk by.
sarah looks over at who did that, and your arm extends to show the bright glow emitting from your arm. her eyes widen and she instantly gets mitch’s attention and stops him from walking.
your eyes silently plead them to believe you. your heart is pounding and as harry grows farther away from you it burns more and more.
mitch grabs one of the bodyguards and points at you. please, oh my god you’re going to get beat up if they don’t take you back with them.
the girl next to you gasps as they start walking up to the barricade. the bodyguard scoops up your jacket and motions for you to come here with his hand. relief washes over you, but is soon replaced with anxiety.
are you going to meet harry? are you going to meet the band? what's going to happen?
the girl next to you laughs, “finally. see? i told you! i’m his soulmate! i can show you my mark it’s just under my clothes!” then she realizes the guard is helping you climb over the barricade.
she watches how the man places your leather jacket on your shoulders to help cover the light coming from you. “oh my god it’s her!” people begin screaming so loudly that you can’t hear anything the guard is saying to you.
flashes of light startle you as people begin to take pictures. the band ushers you toward them, “come on.” sarah should as she pulls you in middle of the band in attempt to protect you from everyone around you.
“y/n!” your friend screams with confusion on her face then she notices the light coming from under the jacket. her face drops with sadness and almost betrayal.
soon the group is surrounded by bodyguards and you are forced to move quickly away from everyone. the screams become quieter as you move deeper backstage. tears start welling in your eyes and a lump grows in your throat.
you’re trying your hardest to stay calm but this is all so much at once. you haven’t even come to terms that harry is your soulmate.
the guards guide you all into a large break room filled with food and drinks. soon the band breaks away from around you.
pauli drops everything in his hands onto a table, niji following after him, while elin and ny-oh walk over to the water bottle stand to get a drink.
you’re left by yourself as mitch and sarah begin whispering amongst each other in the corner near the door with a phone in their hand.
you push your arms back into the sleeves of your jacket to cross them over your chest. you feel extremely vulnerable and guarded.
you shuffle over to an empty table, plopping into a seat. you take a deep breath and shove your face into your hands.
you feel someone’s presence and hear something scuff across the table as it’s pushed toward you. “here you go, love.”
you look up to see elin standing beside you and a water bottle in front of you, “do you mind if i sit?” you shake your head no as you reach for the water to unscrew it and sip at it.
“you must’ve be so overwhelmed right now.” she gives you a sad smile which you return.
you clear your throat before you dare to speak, “yeah, um, just a little bit.” you dryly chuckle at your own sarcasm.
“quite a turn of events, don’t you think?” pauli walks up to the table with a wide smile. “yeah, i know right?” niji comments.
you nod in agreement, unable to really talk without wanting to completely breakdown. you take a gulp of water to aid in your silence.
“i bet h will be happy to meet you.” ny-oh adds as she walks up behind elin.
the comment just makes your blood freeze, “you think?” you whisper softly, afraid your voice will crack and send you into a downward spiral.
“oh yeah. you should hear how much he complains about his dating life. he never really thought he’d have a soulmate. poor bloke was a bit helpless- honestly it's tragic.” ny-oh says with a laugh. the rest of the band around you barks out laughter at her comment. you couldn’t help but let yourself laugh too.
sarah and mitch are the last two to walk over, the parents, so to speak.
“so we talked to harry, he’s currently hiding in his dressing room as we speak. he’s waiting for things to cool down outside before he tries to go back to the hotel.” sarah explains. “there’s a bit of an uproar. some people don’t want to leave, some are completely losing their minds. it’s a bit of a mess actually.” mitch adds.
you nod slowly as everything sinks in. you caused this mess. you should’ve just stayed home. you wouldn’t be dealing with the burning sensation on your arm, and you could be warm in your bed.
“can i see him?” you blurt out. sarah looks at you with a small smile.
“yeah of course. um, you do have a bit of makeup under your eyes.” she whispers to you.
“oh no. is there a bathroom i can use?” you laugh as you stand up. sarah laughs with you and points to the other door in the room. you thank her and walk into the bathroom.
she was right. your mascara and eyeliner was bleeding under your eyes. you quickly grab some toilet paper and wipe underneath to clean yourself up. you grab some chapstick to put on your lips since they’re feeling a bit dry under your mask.
“okay… you’re going to be fine. you’re fine. it’ll be okay.” you finally check your phone again, seeing that you’ve been blown up with text messages and calls.
8 missed calls from my girly pop 💕✨
my girly pop 💕✨: are you serious right now?
my girly pop 💕✨: you’re not going to answer me?
my girly pop 💕✨: wow. i thought we were closer than this.
my girly pop 💕✨: fine. don’t answer me. i’m leaving now. have fun with harry.
you can’t lose your best friend over this.
you: i’m so so so sorry i haven’t answered you. this is so much for me to handle. please understand. i love you and i’ll see you back at our hotel okay?
you take a deep breath and walk back out into the room with everyone. their conversation cuts short as you awkwardly interrupt by grabbing your water bottle.
“ready?” sarah asks with a smile and you nod.
“ready as i’ll ever be.”
sarah guides you away from the group after you say bye’s and see you later’s. you’re welcomed by silence as you both walk down the hallway away from the rest of the band.
“it’ll be okay. i promise he’s incredibly nice and i bet he’s just as nervous as you.” sarah attempts to calm your nerves. there’s no way he is as nervous as you.
sarah stops at a door with a guard standing outside of it and then she knocks. the door swings open, revealing harry. his hair is damp and combed back, just one little piece hanging in front of his eyes. he’s wearing a black pleasing hoodie with some comfy shorts on and ankle socks with slippers covering his feet. “hi, come in. thanks sarah.” he smiles as she leaves you with him.
you take a step into the room that has a comforting aroma of someone who has just showered and cologne. he shuts the door behind you and clears his throat as he walks in front.
you can’t move, you’re completely frozen. he holds his hands behind his back as he taps his heel with the tip of his shoe. “um…” he gulps before speaking again, “thank you for coming. i’m glad the band could help you get back here.”
you also gulp down the lump in your throat, “you’re welcome.” you nod softly. his eyes look around the room and you decide to finally take in your surroundings.
there’s a black velour couch pressed against the heavily decorated wall. amongst the surface are multiple framed pictures of classic rock bands like the rolling stones, queen and the beatles. there’s also a mirror with lights adorning the frame and a vanity with various amount of products laid on the surface.
there’s an open door with the light on and steam is gently escaping from it. then you realize there’s a stand with a vinyl player sitting on top spinning a record. joni mitchell’s ‘blue’ album. the music almost calms you down.
“california?” you mumble. his head perks up, “what?” he asks as he looks directly at you, his gaze burns a hole right into your skin.
“the song.” you mumble, “do you mind?” you reach to take off the mask on your face and he shakes his head, “no, go ahead.”
you stuff the mask into your pocket and you give him a genuine closed-mouth smile, which he returns.
“you listen to joni mitchell?” he asks as he walks over to the record. “yeah, i’ve heard a few of her songs.” you follow him over, his height is a bit intimidating but you stand your ground.
“but i’d say your my favorite artist.” you let out a soft laugh. “why thank you. i appreciate it.” his smile beams which makes your heart flutter. it could light up a whole room.
you’re so close to him you can smell the remnants of soap and laundry detergent lingering on his clothes.
“i was really surprised when i saw you tonight.” he mumbled as he turns toward you, taking his attention off the spinning record. “you were?”
“yeah, i- just didn’t expect this to happen. i’ve never really thought i’d actually find the person who matches me… i guess.” he sheepishly looks down at his feet.
“i felt the same way before tonight. i thought i was meant to be single for the rest of my life.”
his green eyes peeked up at you through his lashes and he bit his lip nervously. oh wow, that shouldn’t have been that hot.
“wanna sit?” he gestures toward the couch and you nod. he lets you go first, so you plop down on the soft fabric and he sits next to you arms length apart.
“i guess i should ask what your name is?” he chuckles, his dimples showing perfectly.
“oh yeah, sorry… it’s y/n.” you tuck a stray hair behind your ear with a smile. “very pretty name.” he compliments, which makes your cheeks flush with heat. “thanks, harry.” you emphasized his name so he knew that you knew his.
so you two get to talking, and you talk and talk and talk and talk. you talk about your family, he talks about his. he talks about england and you talk about your hometown. sooner than later it’s almost midnight.
“do you mind if i see your mark?” you ask him hesitantly. “i’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” he jokes as he pulls his arm out of his sleeve, his comment makes you giggle. you catch a glimpse of his abdomen, and the large butterfly painting upon his muscles. the ferns just barely peeking over his waistband.
unwillingly, you tear your eyes away from the tattoos and pull your arm out of your jacket to compare yours to his which is practically covered with tattoos. they’re almost pulsating, the golden hue barely there. “wow, they’re almost not glowing anymore…” you say almost in shock.
“i guess our bodies know that we’ve finally met then, hm?”
“i guess so.” you reply breathlessly. when you look back up at him he has a soft smile on his face. “you’re very pretty, ya know?” his voice lowers deeply.
“oh stop.” you laugh and gently hit him on the arm. “ow, that hurt.” he plays around as he puts his arm back into his sleeve.
“i think this is a good time to exchange numbers don’t you think?” he pulls out his phone, and you take notice of the messages he ignored for you.
you pull your phone out as well to see some missed calls from your mom, and a missed call from your friend.
my girly pop 💕✨: please lmk you’re safe. i’m at the hotel and i can’t wait to hear about what’s going on!!
you send her a quick thumbs up and a heart before harry asks for your number. you tell him and he sends you a ‘Hi’ so you could save his number.
“do you have a ride back home?”
you shake your head no, “my friend left to go back to our hotel, so i’ll probably just uber back.” you laugh, but his eyebrows furrow with concern.
“i can take you? i’m going back to my hotel soon anyway.” your face must’ve completely dropped because he sits up and puts his hands on your knees in comfort, his face contorts with concern and embarrassment. “hey… if you don’t want me to it’s okay. i can get you a driver.”
you shake your head back and forth a few times silently, “no no. i want you to- you can- i mean- if you want to still- bring me back to my hotel?” you struggle to get the right words to come out.
his face lights up with happiness, “yes of course. i’d want you to get back safe.”
harry styles is driving you home. well, not really home but back to your hotel. he turns his hands over so his palms are facing up, urging you grab his hands.
you let your smaller hands slide into his as he helps you up from the couch. he drops one but keeps the other clasped within his other one, “let’s go.”
he guides you back out into the empty hallway with only some crew members walking around. the guard stationed outside of the door escorts you both into the garage area.
harry opens the passenger door to his car, letting you climb in before he shuts it behind you. what a gentleman.
his phone connects to the car so he could play some music. he hands over his phone, “you pick whatever you like.” he buckles himself in before backing out of the parking space and up the ramp. the night sky twinkles above you both as you scroll through his music.
you can still see some fans walking around with boas around their necks looking very sad.
“i feel terrible for cancelling the show in the middle of it. my manager was talking to me through my ear piece, he said it was the best thing to do at that moment. i was overwhelmed and i just feel so terrible doing that to my fans. i hope everybody forgives me…” you stare at him in awe, he really does care about his fans so much.
“what?” he chuckles as he glances at you instead of the road. “nothing, sorry.” you mumble as you continue scrolling. “i think everyone will understand.” you nod with a smile as you click on a song.
breathe (in the air) by pink floyd* (skip to 1:00)
“ah. very good choice.” he smirks as he drives with one hand on the wheel, the other one sits in his lap. he continues to drive for a minute before he pulls up to the front of your hotel, putting the car in park.
“well, this is you.” he turns his body toward you and you do the same to him. your heart feels like it’s in your throat and your whole body is tingling.
“make sure to text me, okay?” you smile at him and go to reach for the door handle. he unbuckles himself and leans across to grab your hand before the door could open. when you turn your head to face him, he’s so close. you can smell the mint toothpaste on his breath, “can i kiss you before you go?“ his voice is raspy and the question almost makes you whimper.
“please…” you breathe out, nodding your head as he leans in. fireworks ignite throughout your whole body, every touch makes you want to melt into a puddle. his hand cups your cheek gently, his thumb caressing your skin.
all the breath is snatched right from your lungs as you pour yourself into the kiss. his lips move expertly against yours, his stubble scratches you in the best way. your hands cup his jaw and neck, feeling how his muscles move under your fingers.
he slowly pulls back, his lips raw from kissing you. “that was…” he lets out a breathy chuckle, “bloody amazing.”
you nod in agreement, unable to contain the giant smile on your face. “we need to do that again sometime.” you say as you lean in for another kiss. you give him a soft peck, not ever wanting his lips to leave yours.
his grip tightens on you, his other hand disappear under your jacket to grip your side through the silk fabric of your dress. “god…” he moans into the kiss, “you’re so beautiful.”
the words make you head spin. the ringing of your phone makes you pull away slightly to grab it from your pocket. “shit, it’s my friend.” you laugh as you lean into his collarbone. his arms embrace you, “you can go. i promise this won’t be the last time you see me.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head for extra reassurance.
you lift your head up to peck his lips once more, “good. i’m glad.” you gently pull him into a hug, “thank you again, mr. styles.” you smirk at him before involuntarily pulling away.
“bye, y/n.” he mumbles as you hop out of his car, “text me when you’re back to your room safe.” he says before you close the door. you nod, “i will, you do too.” you say with a soft smile, and he nods with a thumbs up.
“bye.” you shut the door with a sigh and turn around to walk into the grand entrance of the hotel. you look back once more to see him staring at you with the cutest smile on his face.
you wiggle your fingers to wave bye one more time, he returns the wave then dramatically sighs with a shake of his head. he puts his car into drive and slowly pulls forward, then he waves one last time before sadly pulling away.
you take this opportunity to sprint down the foyer and to the elevator. the doors open after you click the up button, and then you click on your floor number.
“oh my god hurry up.” you impatiently rock back and forth on your heels.
once the doors open, you jump into the hallway and sprint down toward your room. you fumble for your hotel key, clicking it onto the pad and sliding into the room. you pull your phone out to send a quick text to harry before looking up.
your friend is sitting on the bed in her love on tour hoodie with a movie playing on the tv.
“oh my god. you’re back.” she sits straight up with wide eyes and pats the bed, “sit down and tell me everything. now.” so you do… you start from when you ditched her in the pit, and how the band protected you from the cameras. you described how harry smelt and felt like under your fingers. how he drove you and kissed you like no one has before.
“so… the whole soulmate thing? it’s true like with the fireworks and stuff?” she asks.
“it is. we have matching marks.” you say in disbelief, “but i really want to say sorry about ditching you and not explaining myself. i just had no time, but you should’ve been the one i told first.” you say with a sad smile. she returns the same look and leans forward to hug you, “it’s okay. you got to make out with harry styles. that’s all that counts right now.”
you laugh from her comment and hug her back. your phone dings from a text notification,
h: Thanks for letting me know. I got to my hotel safe too. Can’t wait to see you again.
you both let out a little squeal at the text before responding.
you: me too :) i’m looking forward to it. goodnight harry sleep tight <3
after you click send, you plop backward on the bed to stare at the ceiling. this morning, you would’ve never thought that you’d go to harry’s concert and become his soulmate. that he’d start as the one you'd never have and will now hopefully be yours for the rest of time.
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The Devil’s Eye
Geralt of Rivia x Reader
Soulmate AU
A/N: Here’s a soulmate AU that I felt really inspired for! I know it’s not an update on any of the series but I just really needed to write this while I had the creativity for it.
Also, I’m shocked that I haven’t seen this particular concept done for the Witcher before. Maybe someone else has done it and I just haven't been looking in the right places, but I really thought this would be a more popular trope in this fandom. Be sure to let me know what you think!
Warnings: Character Injury, Reader Injury
Masterlist
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        Cursed child, they called her. A monster’s mate.
        You’ve got the devil in your Eye, child, an old woman had warned her as a young girl.
        With a mother dead at birth and a father lost to a monster months later, she almost believed them when they told her she must be an ill omen, a harbinger of bad luck.
        (Y/N) wasn’t often allowed near a looking glass, but she had seen it a few times in the water down at the creek. The Eye that made everyone fear her.
        Everyone was born with one eye of normal color, and one Eye, the color of their soulmate’s eye. It was how those who were meant to be would find each other. At the first meeting of their gazes, the Eye would fade, leaving each soulmate with two eyes of their own same color.
        She was born with a Witcher’s Eye.
        Witchers are monsters, everyone would tell her. He’ll be more likely to kill you than love you.
        But there were others who pitied her, tried to reassure her, saying it must be some mistake, some accident of Fate, Destiny, or the universe.
        Everyone knows Witcher eyes only come in one color. They don’t have a special Eye. It got stripped away from them, along with their humanity.
        She didn’t know what to think about that.
        As an orphan that everyone believed was cursed, she could only work to earn her room and board, doing chores around the inn and tavern. It wasn’t until the age of fifteen that she met a Witcher for the first time. She had been brushing down a guest’s horse outside the inn when she saw him approaching. Her Eye really was a Witcher’s eye in every way; it had sharper vision than her other, and it did come in handy sometimes.
        He drew nearer, and she kept her head turned to the side so that he might not catch sight of her Eye just yet. She wanted to get a look at him first, and she easily got her chance to do so when he paused to read a notice tacked to the wall beside her.
        His hair was a deep brown color, and he had a broad jaw. His shocking yellow eyes were unmistakable of course, even from a side glance. Of course, Witchers didn’t really age, but he certainly looked a good deal older than her, and it did worry her a bit. She didn’t feel ready to meet her soulmate yet. But maybe it would be a bond of strong friendship, or a familial relationship? She had heard of that happening before, and it would make sense with what she knew of Witchers and the Law of Surprise.
        A medallion hung around his neck, with a wolf emblazoned on the crest. Two swords were strapped to his back, and she shivered at the thought of the monsters he must have felled.
        Then, she noticed the scars that marred half of his face, and she turned her face towards him to get a better look. If he was the one whose Eye she had, she resolved not to let herself be frightened of him. She didn’t believe the stories.
        He caught her staring, but when he looked at her fully, it was his turn to pause and gape. Their eyes met, but she didn’t feel that telltale warmth that everyone talked about. No, she figured her Eye remained the same.
        Eskel, as she learned his name to be, turned out just to be passing through, not fulfilling a contract. She had managed to find a quiet moment to sit with him, as he ate a meal. Her mind was full of questions, but she didn’t know if he would have the patience to answer.
        “Go on,” he said at last, through a mouthful of bread, “I can see you want to, so just ask.”
        “Do you know who it is?” she asked in one breath. “Who’s got my Eye, that is?”
        “No,” came the reply.
        “Oh,” she murmured, deflating slightly. Her eyes flicked around the room, and she knew that people were watching her, even though they turned their gazes just the second before she glanced at them.
        “Is it true that Witchers don’t have soulmates then? That my Eye is just a mistake?” she asked, more quietly.
        Eskel followed her gaze, glancing at the other occupants.
        “This isn’t the place to discuss things like that, kid.”
        It hadn’t been a no.
        “Please,” she said, “I can’t keep living not knowing…” She sat up a little straighter as a thought occurred. “Will you take me with you?”
        His brow furrowed and she rushed on before he could say no, as she feared he might.
        “I won’t be any trouble! I learn quickly, you can teach me what I need to know about traveling with a Witcher!”
        “You’re too young to take along on the Path,” he said firmly.
        “Please,” she begged again. “I don’t belong here. You’ve seen the way they look at me. Like I’m cursed. I have so many questions, and you can answer them, I know it.”
        After a long pause, Eskel slowly exhaled, almost in reluctant defeat.
        “Three years,” he said. “I’ll pass through here again in three years, and you can come with me then.”
        “One year,” she returned sharply.
        “Two,” said Eskel, a little more firmly, “And that is the final offer. I’m leaving this place at dawn.”
        She had sighed and agreed, though a little reluctantly, as he pressed a dagger into her hand under the table as a parting gift. And she had intended to honor that, really, she had. But no sooner had Eskel left the next morning, some of the townspeople who feared and hated her more than pitied her cornered her, accusing her of plotting with the Witcher, and she’d had to flee, with naught but the clothes on her back and the dagger Eskel had given to her.
        All that she could think to do was follow the road, and surely it must have been Fate tugging her along, for she soon came upon Eskel, who’d been forced to pause to care for his horse after it had stumbled. Initially he tried to send her back, thinking she had changed her mind and gone back on their agreement, but once she had explained to him, he resigned himself to taking her into his care a little earlier than planned.
        “I want to learn all that there is to know about Witchers,” she had told him. “If my soulmate is one, then when I’m old enough to meet him, I want to know how best to help him on the Path.”
        And that was the beginning of her travels with Eskel.
        She found that it was much easier to have him with her, despite the way that people tended to treat him. At least, people seemed not to care as much about her Eye. When she travelled with Eskel, they all seemed to assume that she was his daughter (nevermind that Witchers couldn’t father children), and that was the cause of her unnatural Eye.
        That night he’d told her all he knew of Witcher soulmates. Few Witchers had ever found theirs, but of those who did, they knew that a Witcher’s soulmate would have their mortal lifespan tied to the life of the Witcher. It came at a price, of course, in that killing the Witcher would kill the soulmate, though it didn’t work that way in reverse. Eskel also dispelled some of the rumors about Witchers for her.
        “Ordinary people don’t think we have soulmates because they see two yellow eyes,” he’d said. “But that was one thing they just never could figure out how to remove with the Trials. Our eyes change, yeah, but it’s just a glamour. If you look at us in a reflection, you’ll see the truth.”
        Surely enough, he had taken her to the river, and in the water, she could see that one eye was Witcher yellow, and his Eye was an earthy hazel color. She had asked if he thought he’d find his soulmate, but Eskel dismissed the question, and she didn’t press it further.
        The first two years they traveled together, he never let her come along when he actually faced the monsters. No, she was to focus on memorizing which Witcher potions did what, how to start a fire without magic, and other skills of basic survival. He purchased a steel sword for her, dull though it was, and began to train her in fighting forms.
        When she turned eighteen, he gave her a sword of silver and began to let her stay at his side through smaller, less dangerous contracts.
        In her fifth year of traveling with him, she saved his life, and she never let him forget it.
        “You’re bonded to a member of the Wolf school, I guarantee it,” he’d say every time she teasingly reminded him. “As insufferable as you are, you must be. If your soulmate isn’t a Wolf, I’ll eat my head.”
        After that, he had affectionately taken to calling her “Pup”. She pretended to hate it, but it made her feel like family.
        At the age of twenty two, she decided it was time for her to travel a bit on her own.
        “I’m just not ready to meet him yet, Eskel, and I have this feeling that if I stay with you, I’ll run into him sooner than I’m meant to. Especially if you’re right, and he is a Wolf. It’s time for me to go out on my own.”
        Her mentor had been saddened; she could see it in his eyes. But he had understood all the same.
        “You be careful out there, Pup,” he said, with a bittersweet smile, both proud and yet reluctant to say goodbye. “And just remember that the doors of Kaer Morhen are always open to you, if you need a place to stay for a winter.”
        She promised to keep his words in mind. He had hugged her, pressing a Wolf medallion into her hand, saying the spare would fare best in her care, and then they parted ways.
        Without the shield of Eskel’s presence to bear the brunt of people’s odd assumptions about her Eye, she invested in a large, dark hood to hide her face when she went into towns. Of course, she would remove this disguise when she was alone with none but the monsters about to witness her truth. Her Witcher’s Eye did give her an advantage, after all. Though Eskel always reminded her not to rely on it to save her, especially since it would vanish once she met her soulmate, taking any enhanced vision along with it.
        Every time Eskel’s words rang in her head, her heart panged with a longing to see her mentor again, and she heavily considered going to winter in Kaer Morhen as he had suggested, just to see him again. But each time, something deep within her said not to; she couldn’t go yet, for if she did, she might meet her soulmate, and it was not yet time for that. So she settled for hoping to see her mentor somewhere along her journeys.
        Though their paths did cross on occasion over the next five years, whereupon he would remind her of that offer, she didn’t take him up on it until the end of the fifth year, when she no longer felt that leaden resolve in her gut that had always told her it was not yet time to meet her soulmate.
        “Alright, I’ll meet you there this winter. But I’ve got one contract to take care of first, alright?”
        With a parting hug and a promise to be cautious, she followed the Path away.
        She was packing away her camp in the early morning when a man her age with mouse brown hair and two striking blue eyes burst into the clearing. Her hand went to her blade, until she saw the horse behind him, carrying a slumped figure on its back.
        The man, who she noticed carried a lute on his back, paused when he saw her.
        “Please, can you help me?” he asked. “My friend, he’s been badly hurt!”
        With his help, she pulled the other man down from the saddle. He had shock-white hair, and around his neck, she saw a medallion, same as the one hidden under the neckline of her bodice.
        “What was it he was fighting?” she demanded, looking at the man she presumed to be a bard.
        When he saw her eyes, he paused. Her hooded cloak was still on the bedroll.
        “Bard, what did this?”
        He had snapped back to attention, stammering just long enough to convey the information before slipping back into his awed state.
        She grabbed the white haired Witcher’s saddle bag and rifled through it, simultaneously sifting through her memories, trying to recall everything that Eskel had taught her about Witcher potions. At last, she found what she was looking for, and set about patching up the unconscious Witcher.
        “He’ll be fine now,” she told the bard. “I don’t know when he’ll wake, but he’s going to be just fine.”
        Then she stood, brushing the dirt from the knees of her trousers as she finished gathering her things.
        “You’re not staying?” asked the bard in disbelief. “But what if-” he glanced down at the white haired Witcher.
        She paused, following his gaze, tracing those bold features in her mind.
        “If it’s meant to be, we’ll see each other again. I would stay if I could, but I must go.”
        Her most recent contract had taken longer than she would have liked, and now if she didn’t move quickly, the pass to Kaer Morhen would close over with snow, and she had promised Eskel she would make it. Keeping her word to her mentor was more important than the off chance that this particular Witcher might be her soulmate.
        And so, with one last glance at the Witcher with white hair and closed eyes, she rode away.
---
        “Geralt,” came Jaskier’s voice. “Geralt.”
        “What?” he growled, wincing as the light hit his eyes.
        “There we are, thank goodness you’re awake at last.”
        Slowly, the Witcher sat up, looking around. They were in a clearing, and evidently it had been used as someone’s camp before they had arrived.
        “You’re lucky we ran into that woman, or you’d have been much worse off. She certainly knew what she was doing, I’ll give her that.”
        Geralt sat up slowly, testing his injured side.
        “Woman?” he asked.
        Jaskier turned fidgety at that, and merely nodded.
        “What color is your Eye, Geralt?”
        The question caught him off guard. When they had first met, the bard had been much curious regarding Witchers, and at one point had inquired about soulmates. Geralt had reluctantly told him the truth, once he trusted Jaskier more. But he didn’t know why it was being brought up now.
        A strange expression came over Jaskier’s face when Geralt told him the color, but before he could ask why he wanted to know, the bard spoke again.
        “Anyways… What are we to do now, then?”
        Geralt sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to winter in one of the towns, if any will have me.”
When Jaskier looked at him in askance, he sighed and continued, “I had planned to go to Kaer Morhen. But this injury will delay me.”
        Jaskier sat up a little straighter. “What if I go with you?”
        “What?” Geralt looked at him oddly.
        “What if I go with you?” Jaskier repeated. “I could help you along so that you don’t lose any time.”
        Though his first instinct was to dismiss the idea, Geralt paused to consider before he refused. It wouldn’t be the first time he spent a winter away from the keep. But this time… it felt important. Something inside of him said he needed to be there.
        So he agreed to the bard’s offer, and they left within the hour.
---
        Damn wyverns. One of them had ambushed her and got in a lucky strike. She’d managed to kill it, but probably injured herself further in doing so. A nearby cave served as a temporary shelter, and she cursed that wyvern all night long as she stitched herself up. She knew she needed outside help. This wasn’t a wound that could be cared for on her own. But the nearest town was too far to turn back. Though the road that lay ahead would be brutal, it was her only option.
        Again she cursed the wyvern when she was delayed the next day from debilitating pain. By the afternoon, she forced herself to move on, lest fever set in and prevent her from ever leaving the cave.
        She told herself that Eskel was waiting for her, he would be worried if she didn’t show. But would he come looking for her? Or would she be lost on the pass to Kaer Morhen?
---
        Geralt made steady time, with Jaskier along. He would never admit it, but he couldn’t have made it without the bard’s help. Vesemir was already there, along with Lambert and Eskel, who insisted on checking the wound, citing that if it had taken that long to heal, it must be serious.
        The other Witcher paused when he spotted the stitching in the wound, as if the pattern were familiar to him, his eyes flicking between the needlework and Geralt’s eyes.
        “Who fixed you up?” he asked awkwardly.
        Geralt regarded him with a curious expression. “I don’t know. I never saw her. Jaskier said she saved my life, but had to leave urgently.”
        A frown appeared on Eskel’s face.
        “What?”
        Eskel didn’t answer for a long time, deep in thought.
        “What color is your Eye?”
        First Jaskier asking him, now Eskel. Gritting his teeth, Geralt summoned his patience and told his brother.
        “Why do you ask?” he asked after a silence.
        Before Eskel could answer, a commotion came at the entrance, and he was on his feet in an instant. Geralt stood and followed, wondering why his brother was so alarmed.
        When he arrived, the sight of the doors flung open was not what surprised him, but rather the woman who stumbled into the keep, clutching her side. Her gaze was focused on Eskel, but he could see clearly that she had a yellow Witcher Eye. And her other eye… her other eye was--
        “I made it, didn’t I?” she said with a breathless laugh, and promptly collapsed into Eskel’s arms.
        Eskel picked her up, calling her name and cursing when she didn’t respond.
        “Come on, Geralt, she’s wounded.”
        Numbly, he followed, wondering what the hell just happened.
---
        Eskel told Geralt the story of how he had met her as they dressed the wound.
        He didn’t dare ask if she was his. He didn’t want to know. Not until he was certain she would survive.
        They did all that they could for her, until they could only wait to see if her condition would change.
        Geralt offered to sit at her side through the night, to keep an eye on her fever. He could see that Eskel was distressed, and insisted that he get some rest.
        Close to midnight, as the storm outside grew stronger, her eyes opened. She was still very obviously feverish, but she looked right at him.
        Their eyes met, and Geralt felt it.
        All Witchers were trained to overcome their one weak Eye, the one that didn’t belong to them. Now, he felt the change occur, and he had two Witcher eyes. He watched the yellow slip from her iris until her Eye matched the other. Then, her eyes fluttered closed once more, and she didn’t wake again until morning.
---
        When she woke, she knew something was different. She felt… imbalanced. It took her a moment to realize why. Her problem was the opposite, in fact. Her eyes were now the same. One was not stronger than the other, and a nervous warmth settled in her chest as she recalled a hazy, feverish memory, and realized why that must be.
        Glancing around the room, a man with shock-white hair stood at the window, facing away from her. She sat up, drawn to him, but was stopped by a pain in her abdomen.
        “Damn wyverns,” she hissed, drawing the Witcher’s attention.
        “You need to rest,” he said in a beautiful, deep voice, coming to sit at her side.
        Calming a bit to have him nearer, she relaxed back into the pillows.
        “I want my eye back, you bastard,” she said weakly.
        His gaze snapped to hers, and she wondered if he had misunderstood her humor.
        “Hm. Well. It was never really yours to begin with, now was it?”
        A pause.
        Then, she laughed so sharply, she felt the stitches in her wound pull painfully.
        “I do feel half blind without it,” she said a little more seriously. “But I suppose I should know your name.”
        “Geralt. Eskel told me yours.”
        She sighed. “I hope I didn’t worry him too much.”
        “He’ll be glad to know you’ve woken. I can get him, if you’d--”
        “Not yet,” she said, smiling. “I think I’d like to get to know my soulmate a little first.”
        He seemed hesitant, unsure of himself, but he nodded, the hint of a smile showing on his face.
        “Hm. Soulmate…” he murmured. “I like the sound of that.”
        She liked the sound of that too. And she knew that only fools believed that Witcher eyes only come in one color.
---
Everything Tags: @swanky-batman​ @captured-memory​ @jordan-ia​ @geeksareunique​ @shelbybyr​ @decaffeinated--fangirl​ @ayo-cowbelly​ @stilllivindue2spite​ @thatoneartgalsstuff​
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nicoleheichou · 5 months ago
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Now All I See Is Color (A Miya Atsumu x f.reader Soulmate AU)*
[Completed]
* i had planned for this to only be an Atsumu story, but i fell in love with Suna and didn't want to hurt him, but then y'all fell in love with both and didn't want me to hurt them, so basically, everyone gets their happy ending twice. 🤪
• timeskip!characters, slight manga spoilers, fluff, some angst, manipulation, cheating, suggestive themes (nothing crazy), alcohol, swearing, and I'll add more as we go
• post schedule: as of right now i might post daily around 6pm - 7pm MST, if not, i'll let everyone know in advance. 😌
• disclaimer: i don't own any of the characters unless stated otherwise, i don't own any of the photos, and remember the photos i post are for reference, they have nothing to do with how y/n looks. you get to decide how she looks.
In a world where soulmates exist, it's uncommon for most people to find theirs. A lot of them going their whole lives never experiencing the world in color because they've never met their soulmate. But that all changes for y/n when she becomes MSBY Jackals player, Miya Atsumu's assistant. They're about to experience the world in color together. But what does that mean for y/n when both her and Atsumu are in committed relationships?
Chapters:
• intros: y/n squad | atsumu squad
• chapter 1: a good idea for once
• chapter 2: isn't zero
• chapter 3: oh shit
• chapter 4: friends?
• chapter 5: BREAKING
• chapter 6: ya think i did good?
• chapter 7: on the house
• chapter 8: y'all mind if i scream?
• chapter 9: so good to me
• chapter 10: that's my girl
• chapter 11: oh ffs
• chapter 12: ya ain't a backstabber
• chapter 13: snake
• chapter 14: you dropped this queen 👑
• chapter 15: color me surprised
• chapter 16: nasty
• chapter 17: clout chaser
• chapter 18: rated e for everyone
• chapter 19: i wouldn't lie to ya
• chapter 20: on a break
• chapter 21: only for you pretty girl
• chapter 22: don't fall for it
• chapter 23: pretends to be shocked
• chapter 24: too much pressure
• chapter 25: figure it out together
• chapter 26: call it a hunch
• chapter 27: a little tipsy
• chapter 28: worthy of love
• chapter 29: are we okay?
• chapter 30: don't know what to do
• chapter 31: sleepover
• chapter 32: choose me
• chapter 33: so lucky
• chapter 34: i can explain
• chapter 35: my favorite view
• chapter 36: your what
• chapter 37: don't tease him
• chapter 38: doll told me
• chapter 39: lunch date - pt 1, pt 2
• chapter 40: how was lunch?
• chapter 41: knew this was a possibility
• chapter 42: 15% discount
• chapter 43: code red
• chapter 44: don't cry
• chapter 45: ily x 100
• chapter 46: let's hang out
• chapter 47: yn support group
• chapter 48: yn simp club
• chapter 49: [redacted]
• chapter 50: SMACK
• chapter 51: that was hot
• chapter 52: you want proof? - pt 1, pt 2
• chapter 53: isn't about me
• chapter 54: be your sugar baby too
• chapter 55: best boys
• chapter 56: real overwhelmed girl shit
• chapter 57: made my decision
Miya Atsumu Route:
• chapter 58: wasn't enough
• chapter 59: i choose you dummy
• chapter 60: kept you waiting
• chapter 61: make ya fall so in love
• chapter 62: epilogue
Suna Rintarō Route
• chapter 63: it's you
• chapter 64: in another life
• chapter 65: knew from the very first day
• chapter 66: it was always you
• chapter 67: epilogue
Poly Route
• chapter 68: a selfish request
• chapter 69: not fair
• chapter 70: the main character
• chapter 71: property of y/n
• chapter 72: epilogue
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demonsandmischief · 8 months ago
Text
Something Special
Marvel - Bucky Barnes Imagine
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader,
Soulmate AU
1.6k Words
Tumblr media
You can meet your soulmate in your dreams but you can't speak to them and you lose most memory when you wake up, but for some reason your soul mate has never met you there. You're certain they don't exist, until one day.
A/N: I imagine this taking place during TFATWS :).
----
"What do you mean you've never met your soulmate in your dreams?" Sam Wilson asked his friend Bucky.
"I have nightmares, Sam. That is no place for them to be," Buck argued, taking a rag to wipe the blood off of his vibranium arm.
"But they probably think you're dead."
"It's just better off that way," the stoic man finished, his steely eyes meeting Sam's.
"I don't think you're willing to admit that you are scared to try," Sam said, his voice dropping to a softer tone as he leaned forward.
Bucky sighed. "Of course I'm scared. I am not what anybody wants for a lifelong partner," he whispered, dragging his flesh hand down his face.
"Bucky, that's not your choice to make." He stood up, walking away to let him think it over.
Bucky had heard stories of how people meet their soulmate in dreamland. It was a common occurance, but when he had first tried during World War II, he never got a response. There was no way he could even have one now. He was 106 years old after all.
Yet, when he went to bed that night, he decided to push his thoughts aside and focus on calling for you.
You had been waiting for your soulmate to meet you, but it had been years and never once did you hear anything back. You just figured you didn't have one.
Until that night as you were drifting to sleep, it was like a tingling sensation that drew you in. Your eyes were closed, yet it was like following a rope deeper into the darkness of your head.
At the end, was a man. He was tall and stern, and even though you were dreaming, you could feel his presence.
His facial expression remained masked when he saw you, but even you could see his dark eyes widen slightly. You couldn't believe it, after all this time. You searched his body for any distinguishable features, but only found a blurring image. It was going too fast and you were already waking up.
Bucky couldn't believe he saw you on his first try. Plus, seeing you meant no nightmares. Instead, he had a new longing to look for you, and when he woke the following morning he scrambled to write something down before he lost it.
"Shit," he groaned miserably, only managing to write down brown eyes. Most of the population has brown eyes.
"Someone's in a mood," Sam grinned when he caught sight of Bucky's deep frown, deeper than usual that is. He took another bite of toast. "We've got to move on this next lead. Be ready in five."
"Seriously, what's up with you?" Sam asked genuinely when they both were on the plane ready for their next destination.
"I took your advice-"
"Wait, wait. You took my advice?" Sam smiled widely.
"Yeah I took your advice," Bucky said sharply. "And I saw my soulmate, but I can't remember anything about her."
"You know that's just part of the gimmick. You'll figure out a way, Buck," he said sincerely, standing up.
Bucky couldn't be sure. If he dragged this out for too long, there was a possibility that you would find out who he was and never want to meet him. He wouldn't blame you for that.
---
You felt like you were floating in clouds the whole day. For your entire life, you had seen people meet their person, and as you got older, you realized that the chances of you not having that were becoming greater than actually meeting them.
You didn't know what had changed, but you spent the entire day trying to come up with a plan to finally meet the handsome man you saw in your dreams.
You couldn't remember much. You tried to write or sketch him when you woke up, but all you got was blue eyes.
You wondered if you appeared to him in the same clothes you slept in, and if so, maybe you could fold a note in your pocket. You weren't sure you would even be able to remember it was there. Either way, it was worth a try.
The following night you were so excited you were certain you weren't going to be able to sleep, but you managed, and sure enough there was your broody man.
He gave a wave. His lips twitched up slightly, brightening all of his sharp features.
You reached into the pocket of your sweatshirt. You didn't know why, but you had the longing to do so, and you pulled out a small sheet of paper.
You stepped closer to the man, and placed the paper in his palm.
Y/N, Y/L/N, Your Address
Bucky didn't know how he managed to remember all of that once he woke up. He stared down at the scribbled piece of paper in wonder. Could it really be?
You were probably better off without him. He had not been a good man for most of his life, and you deserved more than him.
That's how Sam found him, sitting on the floor lost in thought, the paper scrunched in his fist.
Bucky relaxed his hand so his friend could see the writing. Sam blew out air, and sat down in front of him.
"What are you waiting for?" he asked as gently as possible.
"She deserves so much better than me."
"You can't decide that for her, Buck. You've kept her waiting long enough." Sam stood up, but spoke once more. "I'll get the plane ready if you change your mind. I think we both deserve a detour."
----
You were on pins and needles the whole day. You truly wondered if your man got the message or not. You could just vaguely remember holding his hand, which means you must have given the paper, but you couldn't be sure. You were just willing someone to knock on your door.
Yet, as the day passed you grew less and less confident. If he remembered the note, surely he would have tracked you down by now. Unless he didn't actually want to track you down. Your thoughts were a swirling mess.
You didn't have any dreams that night. You woke up in cold sweat, a sinking feeling forming in your stomach. You felt nauseous. Was it you who ruined everything? Maybe he knew who you were already and decided to pass.
You weren't sure you had the energy to get up and go to work, but you forced yourself to start moving. Your thoughts were only going to get worse.
----
The two men were quite far from the states and Bucky couldn't stop thinking as they made the long trek. For once, these thoughts were not dark flashbacks, they were a bit hopeful. What if she accepted him?
He felt bad that he couldn't sleep. He desperately wanted to see the girl of his dreams, but it just wasn't going to happen. Even Sam kept unusually quiet.
When they finally landed, it was evening, and the pair parted ways. Bucky would finish the journey alone and he was a nervous wreck, even though all of his emotions remained masked.
When he arrived at the address, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door... except there was no answer. He considered his options. He could have messed up the address, or maybe you gave him a fake one. What was he supposed to do now?
He was so lost in thought, he didn't even notice you pulling in.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as you saw the handsome man standing on your doorstep. All of the dreams you had forgotten came rushing forward.
"Hi," you greeted timidly. He was huge up close, definitely taller than you. He wore mostly black, leather gloves on his hands. His features were sharp and familiar from the dream.
He flashed a nervous smile that only lasted a second before his face went blank once more, "I was worried I had the wrong place."
"Yeah, sorry, I was at work," you said, shuffling a bit as the silence consumed you. You had dreamt of this moment, literally, yet you didn't know what to say.
"I'm Bucky," he said, his tone much softer as he looked at you, soaking you in.
"It's great to finally meet you. I'm Y/N, but you know that," you blushed. "Do you want to come in? I can make dinner or we can order something?"
"Okay," he nodded, following you inside. You realized he was very stern and very observant. Combined with your quiet and shy personality, you were quite a match.
"Do you want something to drink?" you asked from the kitchen, pulling ingredients to throw something together for you both to eat.
"No, but thanks." Bucky sat on the stool by the island unsure of what to say or do, but he enjoyed watching you. There was something very positive about you and your home. It felt good.
"Can I ask about the gloves?" you ask curiously, throwing some chicken in a hot pan.
It seemed like you didn't know who he was. He slowly pulled off his gloves, revealing his metal hand.
"Woah, cool," you said, moving closer. "Can I touch it?"
Bucky furrowed his brows, "I guess."
You couldn't help yourself. It was so smooth and shiny, and you giggled happily.
"I guess you can't feel it," you said, reaching for his flesh hand and tracing just like you were on the metal.
He couldn't have been happier to have the stupid arm at that moment. He loved hearing your laugh, and feeling your fingertips gave him goosebumps. His shadowed mind seemed almost calm in your presence, and he knew just from being around for a short time that you were going to be his addiction.
You dropped his hand, meeting his beautiful blue eyes. Your lips quirked automatically, and you were relieved to know the tension was finally broken.
----
A/N: aw yay I love this. Here's part 2 :))
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fangirlingpuggle · 5 months ago
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Very very tired but just Heisenwinters soulmate AU where when your soulmate is injured a mark/scar appears on your body.
There are barely any marks before the Baker house and then suddenly Heisenberg is getting so many so quickly and is just internally  screaming ‘WHAT THE FUCK?WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCK? HOW ARE THEY STILL ALIVE’ eventually he comes to the conclusion that  ‘...well either my soulmates the luckiest son of bitch on the planet to still be alive...or immortal’
Ethan escapes and Heisenberg sees the scar/mark on his own body that matches where he impaled him is like ‘...well...fuck’ 
When they run into each other again the first thing Heisenberg does is just yell either ‘HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?’ or ‘WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE HAND WINTERS? WHY THE HAND?’
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