#not soulmates and cut from the same stone and made for each other ??????

[saetoru]

me vs the overwhelming urge to turn this geto x reader fic into a satosugu x reader fic instead

[infizero-draws]

oh hey, id love to here your labduo hcs

YAYYYY ok. i'll start off with the demon soulmate ones (not specific to them) since someone else asked to hear about that as well. this is very long sorry

SO. all demons are born with a special kind of semi-immortality (able to be killed but unable die from age) where their lives are connected to a mortal soulmate(s). soulmate in this context has no inherent romantic or sexual connotations; soulmates can be strictly platonic, romantic, sexual, or anything in between. they dont even necessarily have to spend their lives with each other, it's purely the bond and the connections between their lives.

soulmate bonds exist from the moment all parties are alive, but the demon doesn't get the instinct to seek them out until the age of 18. the demon will follow this instinct and once they meet their soulmate(s), their lives will be connected from there on.

if the demon decides not to seek them out for whatever reason, they'll still naturally be drawn to them. however, if by bad luck or purposeful avoidance they dont meet their soulmate(s) by age 50, then they'll just Die. for this reason most dont avoid their soulmates but there are some who choose this lonesome dangerous lifestyle; choosing a set-in-stone 50 year lifespan over one tied to a mortal's lifespan, which could end up being cut short.

if the demon has already met their soulmate(s) before the age of 18, then nothing really changes. they still don't KNOW they're soulmates until they turn 18, and then once they do the connected lives come into effect.

these mortal soulmates have historically been humans, which is what led to the horned human variant coming into existence a long LONGGG time ago. these are different from demon-human hybrids, as over the years they've become their own subspecies. the horned human variant is still considered fully human, just with horns and a tail. this is what c!tommy is, while c!eryn is an actual demon-human hybrid. here's this old chart i made to illustrate the differences:

demon-human hybrids don't have quite as good of a sense for locating their soulmate(s) as full demons; they'll still naturally be drawn to them but won't really be aware of it until the bond has been forged, unlike a full demon.

^ this is all obviously expanded upon from bad and skeppy's canonical soulmate bond btw.

ANYWAYS so that brings us to labduo. (i forgot they were called that btw. awesome) basically they're soulmates, but as per the way this all works, eryn doesnt realize this until they turn 18. and that's when he's like ummmm tommy. i think we're soulmates lol. and tommy is like wot. rlly? ok. and that basically is it LOL. tommy lives with tubbo and ranboo in the future to me, i dont think eryn and tommy would be attached at the hip soulmates. eryn would probably go off on his own adventures and come back every so often to catch up, rest at the benchtrio house, etc. rolewise they're like the distant uncle who randomly shows up from time to time LOL.

when it comes to other hcs for them ummm i dont actually have a lot. i think they figured out they were trans around the same time, like pre-puberty, and that was something that rlly brought them together. eryn tried to cut tommy's hair and it was a disaster. for anything more read this comic i made a while back

for me tommy was just this scrappy kid who showed up at the village stealing bread and shit, until he befriended eryn and was taken in by eryn's mom. ive never given tommy's actual origins much thought, as i dont think it rlly matters to me. the thing thats important is that he was an orphan from a young age. as much as i think the lab stuff can be cool i think i do just imagine him to have had normal parents and. Something happened where he did not have them anymore. young enough where he didnt have memories of them or anything. idk

OH and rq to explain this doodle in the context of all this. its basically just eryn saying that it's a good thing all of tommy's trauma and deaths happened BEFORE their soulmate bond existed or else it would've happened to eryn too lol

thats kind of it...... thank you for your interest...

[fictionkinfessions]

i’m a linktype of a character who isn’t neccesarily a villain, but is often portrayed that way, because my abusive partner is a more popular fan-favourite. and, yes, she was abusive, too. they paint me as the only one who did anything wrong in the relationship when, really, the toxicity was mutual and reciprocated. i understand and agree with the fact i hurt her - i made some bad decisions. but she hurt me, too, and nobody seems to acknowledge that in favour of viewing her as their woeful innocent blorbo whom i unfairly wronged. sometimes in toxic relationships, there isn’t just the ‘victim’ and the ‘abuser’ - sometimes both parties are victims and abusers in their own right. it isn’t black and white.

for context: i was forced into a death game orchestrated by people who want to see people suffer for their own perverse entertainment. in this death game everyone was pre-assigned a ‘soulmate’ to pair with, somebody who shared injury and death, a two birds with one stone mechanic. i went around looking for my soulmate the entire session, i asked everyone i met if they were the ones, but i couldn’t find my soulbound. eventually i learned the reason i couldn’t find her was because she was in our world’s equivalent of hell risking our shared life by needlessly putting herself in danger - emphasis on needlessly because there was literally no reason to go galavanting through the most perilous places she could find on the first day other then thrill. especially without considering it wasn’t just her life she was putting in danger. do you know how terrifying it is? to feel immense pain ripple through your body without warning at any moment but there’s nothing you can do about it because it’s not technically yours (yet it hurts you anyway?) it hurt it hurt so bad and it hurt worse because i’d been being so careful for her - i hadn’t even been risking getting a splinter because i hadn’t wanted to hurt her and she did not seem to share that sentiment. she didn’t care her self-destructive recklessness was hurting me too.

i decided, you know what? screw fate. i want to be able to forge my own destiny - i want to be able to choose who i think is right for me and chose who i want to be with for myself. i want to have the freedom to make my own choice regarding who i want to spend the rest of my life with instead of having it arranged for me by ‘fate’; aka the people who put me in a death game and defintely don’t have my best interests in mind. so i did. i met somebody and i love them a lot! /p. we weren’t ‘soulmates’ - but does it really matter? we love and care for each other, we’d die and kill for each other, i don’t care if they aren’t ‘who the universe had in mind’. they’re mine and i’m theirs. besides, my ‘soulmate’ had already done the same thing and had teamed with someone else, so it’s not like i was ‘cheating’ when a) if i was, they’d cheated first and b) we hadn’t even met i’d hardly consider us to be in a relationship. i made this very clear when i cut her off.

she ended up going insane from the loneliness. she blamed me because i’d ‘abandoned’ her and ‘made her’ that way. had i though? i didn’t make her kill all those people - i didn’t make her do anything. she’s responsible for her own actions. all i did was decide what i’d wanted for myself and that i didn’t feel comfortable in a relationship with her. she hadn’t respected any of the boundaries I’d put in place and ended up harassing me and my partner. from there, things escalated - we both started hurting ourselves to hurt the other (though by far, she was worse with it). we both did a lot of shitty things to each other. and i acknowledge that i did a lot of shit things and hurt her! i acknowledge she’s not an evil person, just a hurt person who lashed out because of it. but so am i. she hurt me, too, but she never acknowledged it or took responsibility - she never apologized. i’m not an evil person, either, i’m somebody who was also traumatized and because of it made bad choices that hurt others, just like her, and yet i don’t recieve the “ooooh poor baby it wasn’t their fault they were just scared and scarred!” treatment she does, because she’s a fan favourite, so the fandom blorboifies her. it just makes me so frustrated to see source me portrayed as toxic and abusive and the villain when it was so much more complicated then that. she was just as toxic and abusive to me as i was to her. people just choose to ignore that fact to make her look better. yes, she was abused. but she was also an abuser. she abused me as much as i abused her.

if any pearls see this i just want you to know. i am sorry. i am sorry i hurt you - i am sorry things didn’t work out between us. i’m sorry for what we become. but i hope you’re sorry, too, i hope you can acknowledge that we were both in the wrong. i hope you regret what you put me through - that you understand that you hurt me too. that i’m still recovering from what you put me through.

but i hope that this gives you closure. i hope you get better. i hope you heal.

- ✨scott smajor, source: double life smp

x

[lonestardust]

The Firehouse AU spoilers // aka me breaking down over chapter 11

screaming crying and throwing up over :

“I wanted to save people. I never.. forgave myself. For not being able to save you."

.

"TK looks over at him with so much pain in his eyes. “So if you were gonna end up going to jail anyway, why the fuck did I have to be alone for 14 years!?"

.

"He walks over, stepping in front of TK and lowering himself down to his knees on the hardwood. TK sniffs and won’t look at him. Carlos slides his hands down TK’s forearms, tugging his hands out from where they’re trapped so he can hold them. He brings them to his mouth to kiss TK’s knuckles one by one. On his left hand, Carlos places a kiss directly to the tattoo on his fourth finger. “You didn’t ruin me,” Carlos murmurs. “Losing you ruined me. I loved you so much I spent every day for a year trying to get back to you. I didn’t end up here because you fucked me up. I ended up here because for 14 years, I was alone too.”

.

“I met my soulmate when I was eight years old and then I had to live half my life without him. That’s what fucked me up. I had to leave, and my heart was still stuck up on that fire escape on West 77th Street and I didn’t know how to keep being me without it. Without you.”

"but the evidence remains next to Carlos’s hip in a blue felt box that he’d never really carried on without him as much as he’d wished he could. Carlos knows so intimately what that’s like. All these years, TK’s felt like a ghost. Like Carlos was being followed around by the shadow of him, like he’d colored every place Carlos visited and decision he made and chance he didn’t take."

.

"The spark of risk dances on his skin. It’s a part of himself that he’s been missing for so long Carlos isn’t sure he was even aware it was gone..... He didn’t take risks after he lost TK. He didn’t enjoy keeping a secret, he didn’t push back, he lived quietly within the boundaries set for him by other people and never quite noticed what a muted existence it was"

.

“I should’ve done this the very first time with you,” Carlos says. “In your bedroom while your mom was at work. Figuring it out together, holding you if you were nervous. We should’ve been each other’s first everything."

.

"They were made for each other, he thinks. Crafted from the same stone, broken apart when they should always have been one. Everything went up in smoke and nothing happened the way it should have, but right now TK is in his arms. Kissing him, trusting him, asking for Carlos to connect them again."

them being flirty and playful. the stolen kisses behind closed doors, the winks and giggles and butterflies in stomach and smiles and memories and dozing off on the couch. them getting to have those private moments of sheer love amidst the heavy pain of the lost time and the impending doom of what's eventually coming. the contrast between tk wearing grey and yellow. carlos not trying to get info out of tk on his whereabouts and "instead, he kisses TK harder and drags him toward the bedroom" BECAUSE REUNITING WITH HIS FIRST AND THE ONLY LOVE OF HIS LIFE IS THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS. the achingly tender body worship. tk trying to cut down smoking, bc of carlos — because he now has something that makes him care. THEM ON THE FIRE ESCAPE and tk taking carlos' hands into his when he was silent for a minute to comfort him through getting vulnerable and carlos looking at their hands and thinking that they belong and complete each other. Carlos telling him how ruined and broken he was too all along. tk spiraling and breaking down and carlos kissing his knuckles and correcting him and comforting him with the truth. THEM AT TK'S PLACE. Carlos realising that tk's house is not a home because the reason that makes it so has been absent from tk's life when back then he used to have all of his favourite things all over the place. the BLUE MEMORY BOX and carlos seeing gwyn's face and how he once reassured his heartsick teenage heart that there was at least a gwyn back in new york loving her son fiercely when he can't do it himself anymore. and the only other memories in the box being JUST CARLOS and them sitting around reminders from their precious bitter-sweet history and carlos holding tk in his lap and carlos clasping his chain around tk's neck and wanting to tell him that he can keep all of him but he can't make a breakable promise. THE ARISTOCRATS and them talking about their first times and how it was all marked by each other’s absence. just like everything else......... I AM not FINE. i'm ruined!!!! beyond repair!!!! so so RUINED I'll never recover from this EVER

CAN THEY EVADE THE POLICE??!! RUN AWAY from the feds and from austin and EVERYTHING escape ALL THE MESS and go to paris... start what they should have had long long time ago. CAN CARLOS "SOMEDAY" PROMISE COME TRUE

I need to go lie down for 10 business days sob and wail into the void uncontrollably

@paperstorm HOW ARE YOU SO TALENTED HOW COULD YOU howwwww is this soooooo heartrendingly beautiful and complex and so smartly crafted and built and narrated!!!!!!!! to be able to create such a full-fledged extremely sensitive and complex human world with unforgettable excellent characterization is just so.. it's a godlike work!!! i'm really truly too spellbound to speak. thank you. thank you. thank you, Andie xx

[valoisfulcanellideux]

Addressing the accusations of shipping in 'These Stones Remember'

Just a clarification regarding what 'shipping' actually means within fandom:

Read that again: ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship.

I've been made aware of complaints that there is 'shipping' in These Stones Remember because of the relationship between Paix and Mhenheli, despite the fic being tagged as 'No Romantic Relationships' from the very start.

I want to reiterate: theirs is NOT a romantic relationship. It is a loving but PLATONIC relationship. I have mentioned the word 'platonic' within the fic itself, and I've hinted strongly at platonic love in multiple chapters; sometimes to where I'm almost belabouring the point and the mention of it actually pulls me out of the story (which means it probably does the same to the reader). That is how sensitive I am toward making sure I'm as clear as possible.

Example 1:

Pix wanted to weep, wanted to scream. It was so fucking unfair. In those dark eyes, he saw a heart lifted up to him, offered for him to take. The beautiful, uncomplicated simplicity of deep platonic love that he had always craved was kneeling right there at his feet, waiting for him to accept it. And he did not dare touch it.

Example 2:

The copper crown will never be worn again, for I left no bloodline and it will tolerate no other bearer, but I pray you keep it safe. His whole life, he, too, had only ever wished for love and nothing more. For hands to hold, lips to cherish, the warmth of another beside him at night, a heart to cradle in his hands like a candle flame. That, and nothing more. That would have been his all.

This got very long, so the rest of it goes behind a cut.

People, I have been writing within fandom for longer than some of you have even been alive. I know what shipping is and has always been. You do not get to redefine the term and then make authors feel guilty because you've changed that definition to validate your own feelings about it.

People in a loving platonic relationship can kiss, they can sleep and cuddle in the same bed, they can show intimate affection by means of hugs and touches.

If you honestly think that the relationship I've been writing between Paix and Mhenheli is a romantic one, then I urge you to read this article: Platonic Love: How it Differs from Romantic Love and Friendship.

Some excerpts from the article are below:

This is exactly what the relationship between Paix and Mhenheli is, and it's how I've written it the way that I have. In the worldbuilding for the story, I even have the concept of two people being 'stars-bound' - which is the equivalent to our notion of 'soulmates'. That is, people who will always find each other, and who will become close to each other in any way, be that romantic or close friends.

The sort of shit that I've seen - both direct and indirect, in posts and tags and the like - honestly makes me never want to tag anything as NRR again, and instead to write "THERE'S RAMPANT FUCKING THROUGHOUT THIS FIC" even if it's the most innocent Gen fic out there, just to ensure that these people who have me walking on eggshells and disclaimering everything everywhere won't touch it with the proverbial 10 foot bargepole (even if that meant I'd then be dealing with complaints from people who expected that rampant fucking and only got a Gen fic instead).

It upsets me beyond belief that I've had to deal with this several times through the lifetime of this story, but I'm absolutely sick of feeling like shit when I find someone's been complaining about the 150,000+ word fic that I've been pouring my heart and soul into for almost nine months.

If you're repulsed by notions of intimacy and love - even nonsexual - then just… please don't read any of my stories. Because I simply cannot write anodyne, unfeeling fiction where there is no tenderness, no love, and no intimacy of some kind. The occasional one-shot might come out where that doesn't feature, but the vast majority of my writing does contain it.

The themes for These Stones Remember are: home, belonging, guilt, friendship, affection, forgiveness, gratitude, and love. And they've been that way from the very start.

Follow your heart, for the Vigil is Love and the heart is where it rests most comfortably.

[tootiredforaname]

had thoughts about soulmate aus as dystopias, merged that with the boys hyperfixation, here we are

(Butcher is at odds with the nature of soulmates.)

Mum used to tell the story of how she met dad. Coming into the graduation party soaked from the rain. Her friends daring her to ask the boy across the way for a dance, and the way his hair shone in the dim lights as she staggered over. How she stuttered out the question as her heart beat through her ribcage. The sparking moment he took her hand, and everything around them froze in place to let her hear his slurred laugh. Like angels singing. The story always ended with them dancing into the morning, never letting each other go. Then a kiss on Billy's cheek as she told him to have sweet dreams.

Smashed china, beer bottles carpeting the floor, blank staring at the wall waiting for him to stumble back from the pub, she never mentioned them. The stories were meant to send Billy to sleep, but he was always up past midnight, trying to stitch together the shiny man in mum's head with whoever slept next to her now.

"You take care of your soulmate," she said once, while Billy dropped dad's empties into the bottle back behind Tesco's. She would do it herself, but her hands were so blistering red from bleaching the smell out of the kitchen tiles that she couldn't stand getting dripped on. She kept asking for that fancy hand cream off the telly, but there was always something more important to buy. "You take care of them."

(Maybe it was a joke.)

Lennie never met his soulmate. Hardly anyone that young does. The priest made sure everyone knew they weren't only mourning Lennie, but the future that could have been. "Perhaps, if they had been part of the lucky few who met early, we would not be here today."

"It's tragic, how someone can be so selfish," one of the Irish cousins said. "His soulmate's all alone in the world now."

(Billy always knew how to fight. Here's where he learned to enjoy it.)

Butcher let his visa run out in the States. Mainly because the yanks had better drugs, maybe because most soulmates are the same nationality. Leave all that back across the pond, drown the rest in gin and fentanyl.

Of course, then Becca came along, and oh.

Becca, Becca, Becca.

The chainsmoker who took a lend of his lighter and never gave it back. With crows feet from smiling so hard so long, and a singing voice too reedy to make up for her shit music taste. Who hadn't met her soulmate at twenty-five and wasn't much bothered by it. Who dip-dyed her hair so she could cut the purple ends off to visit grandma. Who didn't give a rat's arse about what was written in the stars.

(If the universe had any sense, it would have set her up with some nice millionaire instead of convincing her the best she could do was Butcher.)

Billy let his guard down. Stopped planning for an empty bed or a note left in the night. He could wake up wrapped in Becca's arms without that sick stab of relief. On the best mornings, when the sun lit Becca up gold and neither of them had to go anywhere, he could curl up against her and fall right back asleep. He trusted her when she said they were building something together.

(The universe either has the same sense of humour as mum, or it fucking hates him.)

(Back to the gin and fentanyl.)

It's not about Homelander. Butcher knows that, in the darkest part of him. If life's as set in stone as people like to think, then Homelander isn't the thing at fault.

So when a gangly twink asks if he's interested in nanny cams, and the air around them shudders like angels sighing with relief, and the kid's eyes go wide as the moon, and the darkest part of Butcher's heart flutters its wings-

(Well. There's plenty of grieving widows in this city.)

[dreamrecorder]

The words we keep

Soulmate au - first words tattoed on the wrist

Includes: Venti | Diluc | Kaeya | Albedo | Zhongli | Xiao | Childe

Mentions of suicide in Zhongli; angst and brief violence for Childe

Oh you're here- I mean! I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your spot!

The bard had guessed that he'd meet his soulmate either in Angel's Share, in Windrise, or at the hands of his statue in Mondstadt. But the latter two were more unlikely. But he doesn't mind sharing his space with you really. In fact, Venti would be more than willing to let you in his space. But lo and behold! He didn't think he'd meet you at the hands of his statue!

Nights prior, you always heard a voice singing songs of various emotions. The voice eventually led you to Barbatos's statue. When you looked up, you saw the bard in green. His voice was very calming and pleasant to hear, so you always visited the statue at night. Until recently, your curiosity grew. Why does the bard always stay there at night?

Seeing your relaxed form on his statue, hair swaying in the wind. Venti just went soft. "Quite the lovely view isn't it?" 

He didn't mean to surprise but you still did become surprised. He found it endearing. "Oh you're here- I mean! I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your spot!"

Ah- you scared them. Please don't do that.

Now who did he scare and what did he do to warrant his soulmate's first words to him? Diluc has always been aware that he can be intimidating and usually he doesn't mind that. But for you- he does give half a mind.

There was a new winemaker that Connor had hired and Diluc has yet to meet them. Connor had even commented that their methods were a bit unusual. But if it's enough to get the former's approval, then Diluc will see to this newcomer.

Diluc met you during the night, just at the edges of the Stone Gate that signifies the border between Mondtsadt and Liyue. The man was simply patrolling around the area for any hidden dangers. That's when he saw you, kneeling on the ground with a group of slimes surrounding you. Seeing your plight, Diliuc quickly ran and summoned his greatsword. With a few swipes imbued with pyro, the slimes hastily retreated. He was about to chase them off, but he was more concerned of your safety.

Diluc was about to speak when you cut him off as you stood up, dusting your clothes. "Ah- you scared them. Please don't do that."

Diluc was dumbstruck for a second. He did not expect to meet his soulmate right here right now. Seeing his stupefied look, you raised a brow. "Are… you alright, Sir Diluc?"

"Those slimes were about to attack you." Diluc pointed out. His reply made you chuckle a bit and shake your head to the sides. Did he say anything funny?

"No they were not. I was trying to befriend them so that I could use their slime concentrations for the winery."

Now Diluc was even more confused. Slime? For tbe winery? "Wait- you're the new-"

"Winemaker. And your soulmate if you're not yet aware. Come on, let's go look for those slimes! We can talk on the way about our… professional and not-so professional side of our relationship." And with that, you trailed to the path of the slimes with a smile on your face. As for the wine tycoon, he was still confused- like a lost puppy, but there was this gentle smile that landed on his lips as he followed you.

Yes, I am suffering and in need of a Pyro Vision. Soulmate or not, if you don't have a Pyro Vision- shoo.

The text tattooed on Kaeya's wrist always left him laughing. He just knows, that this was meant to be a comical moment. He can even imagine the moment he meets his soulmate just from these words alone. But of course, he does worry about your well-being. Kaeya had his guesses. Maybe he would meet you in Dragonspine or maybe- you were an unprepared tourist enduring the permafrost of Snezhnaya and he'd meet you there. Well- in the end, he's still amused at your winterish pain.

Sure enough, Kaeya was tasked to scout Dragonspine for any Fatui activity. He could feel it under his skin that he'll meet you any second now. As he traversed through the mountain path, he noticed a group of warming seelies hovering over… someone? And that someone is shivering immensely. The captain grinned.

You heard footsteps approaching but you stayed in your crouched position, determined to preserve your body temperature. The seelies were helping, sure, but they were not enough to counter the coldness your Cryo Vision emanates. Damn it. Just because you're a cryo user doesn't mean you're immune to sheer cold.

The footsteps stopped and you snorted at the words the stranger spoke, "Could this possibly be my soulmate suffering in the cold and in need of a Pyro Vision?"

You huffed, you didn't want to meet your soulmate in this kind of situation. But it happened anyway, much to your dismay. Still crouched, you managed to turn to face the man as seelies continued hovering around.

"Yes, I am suffering and in need of a Pyro Vision. Soulmate or not, if you don't have a Pyro Vision- shoo."

Now actually hearing it from you made Kaeya laugh hard. If he was already amused just from the ink on his wrist before, Kaeya's now even more so deeply amused. You muttered sadist on his way. Deciding he's had enough a good laugh for today, the captain gave you his fur coat and a warming bottle. "Come on, let's get you some place warm, yes?"

You're not the only one! I actually did one for you, too!

When his mind is not occupied by hus studies, it would often drift ink embedded on his wrist. Everytime Albedo does so, he would often wonder what did the two of make for each other that would lead to you eventual meeting.

The Windblume Festival arrived, and of course, so will tourists from other lands. Usually, Albedo would simply pay no heed to the ongoing festivities and their participants. But this time- things were different. You unknowingly caught the alchemist's eye. There was this sudden itch in his hands- and Albedo knew he had to sketch you form. However, before he could even approach you- you left to another direction.

He caught sight of you again the next day. You were reading a book on a bench, with the plaza fountain giving you a beautiful background for Albedo. Discreetly, the alchemist sat on a bench front of yours and began sketching. Unbeknownst by him, you were also entranced by his form and you, too, began sketching.

Albedo was first to finish- and like usual, he would give the sketch to the person he drew of even if they were strangers. As he walked, there was this certain nervousness that found way in his stomach. This never happened before. Why was he nervous?

Once close enough, Albedo cleared his throat and handed you his sketch, "I know this seems suspicious, but I want you to have this. You have a wonderful form."

You'd be lying if you said your heart did not stop a beat at his words. When you saw the paper he was offering you, you gasped at how he caught every detail of you. Bashful, you tore the page you were drawing on from sketchbook and gave it to him.

"You're not the only one! I actually did one for you, too!"

When your words reached his ears, Archons bless you as he gave you a genuine and joyful smile.

Please... don't touch my heart that wants to disappear.

When Zhongli fully embraced his mortal form, he didn't expect the universe to gift him a soulmate. Like a snake, ink slithered into words that gave his heart a certain sadness. Zhongli knew, you were suffering somewhere... Out there...

He saw you first at the highest peak of Guyun Stone Forest. Everything happened so quickly. One second he was watching your distant form from the beaches below then the next he knew- his heart dropped, the same way you willingly fell to the hands of death that waited in the sea. The archon did what he knew is right- and that is saving you.

To Zhongli, immoratlity can both be a blessing and a curse. When your skins touched, he knew you were of immortality. He could sense it. And he could also sense the tiredness that nest in your soul from the burden of immortality.

Once Zhongli landed on safe ground, that's when he spoke. "I won't ask why, however is this truly what you want?"

The way his words reflected the ink written on your wrist made you open your eyes wide. When the realization sank in- that this man is your soulmate, you began crying. You were tired of life- but this man- this man is now your lock away from your want for death. If you stayed with him- another cycle of seeing the people you love come and go.

"Please..." you begged, "don't touch my heart that wants to disappear..."

Your voice was sad and pleading- but Zhongli was a stubborn man, just like his element. He wanted to help you but not by giving your death. He wanted you to see life in a new light, hopefully with him by your side.

Excuse me... Here- for you. Qingxin.

Xiao was always resolute in his resolve that he has no need of a soulmate deemed by the universe. However, there are times that he would let his mind flutter around the concept. Specifically, around the words elegantly written on his wrist and his soulmate. Xiao would question why would you give him qingxin flowers in the first place. Other than that, there was also this underlying worry in his thoughts about you and the qingxin flowers. These flowers... they can only be gathered on high stone peaks. What if you slipped and fall?

This leads Xiao to have days where he just spends his time at the peaks of Jueyun Karst, looking out for any foolish person scale mountains just for qingxin. It's not because he's worried about you no- Xiao just doesn't want anyone die under his protection over Liyue. There has already been too much deat-

"Excuse me..."

At the voice, Xiao's head whipped to your direction with eyes wide in surprise.

"Here- for you. Qingxin."

There was this bored look in your face, but Xiao could see the worry in your eyes. Worry? Were you worried about him? Xiao frowned at the thought but still took the flowers from your outstretched hand.

"Foolish mortal... you could have gotten yourself hurt. Climbing peaks just for qingxin..."

... But still a small smile graced his lips and your heart melted.

"Thank you."

You're the only person I recognize whose eyes resemble the deep blue ocean.

The words tattooed on his wrist always left Childe questioning about his soulmate and what led them saying these words. Somehow- imagining the possible scenarios always makes him melt. This string of words- it never fails him to bring a sense of comfort in his heart. Childe learns of yoir existance during a mission.

The mission was to assasinate a captain of the Knights- you. He observed you for days and took note how you're silent and alone for the most part but kind to the people who approach you- he almost feels bad for having to kill you. The day came when he had to kill you. It was supposed to be a quick kill- but he should know better. You were a captain for a reason, so you fought back. However, in the end, Childe was stronger as he wrap his hands around your fragile neck. Another second, he'd have you dead- until a child's voice cut through- your little brother. The way your eyes watered up at the sight of your only family. Seeing the hurt in your eyes, Childe's thoughts went overdrive- No- nonononono way I'm killing in front of a kid- He simply can't- he was reminded of his little brother, too. With a wavering will to disobey orders, Childe let you go and retreated to the night,

"Don't think this is the last time you'll see me."

Like a shattering glass- the words he uttered made your heart shatter like glass...

Childe saw you again, this time in Liyue. When your gazes meet- there was a shock that passed through with tension suddenly gripping your necks. Childe swore he hid much of his identity physically that night- but he knew you recognized him. He managed to corner you in Yuehai Pavillion by swooping into an empty seat right in front of you. There was a tense moment and an oppresive air. He noticed how your hands were ready to grab your weapon. "How did you recognize me?"

You carefully thought of your words. And when you did reply, Childe have never felt so much despair until today. "You're the only person I recognize whose eyes resemble the deep blue ocean."

Back before he knew you- these words always comforted Childe- but now? Childe felt chills in his spine as despair clouded his mind. Why would the universe decide to have person he was supposed to kill his soulmate.

Similarly, his heart also shattered.

A/N: Look!!! I got meself some banners ksks---- this is all Childe's fault rawr

[nsheetee]

109 Steps To You

this is a part of the “almost” collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​

Pairing: Haechan x Reader Genre: romance, fluff, angst, mature content, soulmate!AU, college!AU Length: 19k Summary: Everyone is born with two marks on their body: one that is identical to your soulmate’s, and one that is identical to the person who will cause you immense pain. No one knows which mark means what until they live out their life and meet the people destined to bring them love and hurt. However, you were only born with one mark. Out of all the places you thought you would meet the person with the mark identical to yours, you never thought it would be on your first day of college. Warnings/Details: female reader, mentions of other nct members (and yuqi from g-idle), explicit sex (unprotected + the consequences that come with it), mentions of a dysfunctional family, swearing

— read epilogue here

a/n: if you’re a minor: beware! there is explicit and mature content in this fic.

“I want to thank you guys, again, for helping me out today.” You shyly announce to the table, swirling your spoon through your froyo and glancing back and forth between the other people sitting before you.

“Oh, it’s no problem, we weren’t doing anything today anyway.” Xiaojun softly knocks his elbow into yours, sending a reassuring smile your way. If it wasn’t for Xiaojun, an old childhood friend, you weren’t sure how moving into your dorm room and getting settled into campus would’ve gone; you would probably still be a mess right now.

“He’s right. Plus, I really wanted to meet the girl Jun kept raving about, he wouldn’t stop talking about how much we would like you-” Mark’s comment is quickly cut off, a thud under the table and a pained look on Mark’s face giving away that Xiaojun just kicked him.

“I just hope I lived up to the hype.” You laugh at their antics.

“Oh, definitely,” Yuqi quickly buts in before Mark can retaliate back at Xiaojun, “And I live a few floors below you, so just let me know if you need anything at all.” She adds on, her warm deposition and all around friendliness from today making you let out a small sigh of relief, some stress falling off your shoulders when you realize just how many people around you are here to help you out.

“I appreciate it so much, really.” You lean away from Xiaojun and Mark, closer to Yuqi and Lucas who are sitting on the other side of the table, “By the way, I love your guys’ marks. They look so good on both of you.”

At your comment, Lucas puts down his phone and gently grabs Yuqi’s hand, their matching chamomile flower marks touching as their fingers intertwine. You almost didn’t notice their matching marks earlier today when they were helping you set up your dorm room, but when you did, you couldn’t help but stop what you were doing and stare at their hands. Such a simple mark has never looked so pretty to you, maybe it’s because Lucas and Yuqi made such a good pair that their fated marks looked so right for them.

“I still wish I got a cool dragon mark down my back, but I’ll let Jun be the one to deal with that in this life.” Lucas smirks at Xiaojun, who just rolls his eyes at Lucas’ fake jealousy. “Yours looks good, too.” He finishes and glances down at your left hand. There, a dragonfly mark stains your skin, the long tail trailing over your thumb and the wings spreading out over the back of your hand and your wrist.

“Thank you.” Your reply is genuine, however you can’t help but remember the solemn fact that surrounds your mark, your voice inadvertently dipping down as your eyes trace over the wings of your dragonfly.

“So, what kind of classes are you taking this semester?” Xiaojun changes the subject, no doubt hearing the lament in your voice.

“Oh, just some required classes. Nothing for my major, really, except Intro to Ethics for my humanities credit.” You reply as casually as you can to bring the mood at the table back up, but your comment makes Yuqi gasp and all four pairs of eyes at the table turn to you. You slouch in your seat at their sudden attention on you.

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Do you know your advisor's email? Let’s send them a message right now to get you out-”

“Stop.” You shake your head, laughing a bit at the overreaction from your new friends, “What’s wrong with Ethics?”

“It’s in the Hauss building.” Xiaojun says as if you should already know what that means. You roll your lips in and shake your head; you do not know what that means at all.

“It’s the building all the way on top of the big hill on the west side of campus, by the auditorium.” Xiaojun explains more.

“They only teach three classes over there: Ethics and Music Theory 3 and 4.” Mark sets down his melted froyo, not realizing he has some sticking to his upper lip.

“I’m failing to see what’s so horrible about that?”

“When Xiaojun says it’s a big hill, he means it’s a really big hill-”

“Didn’t someone count the steps once and it came out to be, like, close to 100?” Lucas asks, one hand still tangled with Yuqi’s and the other now rapidly slurping his triple chocolate froyo.

“That was me, and it’s 109 steps.” Mark shutters, “I took Music Theory 3 last year and I ended up skipping half of the time because I couldn’t find the energy to climb up and down those steps three times a week.”

“Why 109? Aren’t groups of steps usually in even numbers? That’s not very architecturally smart.” Yuqi purses her lips and her eyebrows screw together.

“Screw architecture. Are you telling me I’ll have to climb up and down 109 stairs three times a week just to go to Ethics?” You can already feel a headache growing at the back of your head when you think about the complications of dealing with this big staircase. You needed that class for your major, and you thought it was going to be a class that you could pass with flying colors, but it seems like it might just be a nuisance to you more than an easy A.

“Talk to your advisor. Try to drop out and take a different class. Trust me, 109 steps don’t seem like much until you actually have to climb them.” Mark gives you his piece of advice, sticking his spoon filled with froyo into his mouth and then immediately scrunching his eyes and mumbling about brain freeze.

You’ll have to send an e-mail to your advisor real quick, but for your first day of classes tomorrow, you’ll just have to deal with those 109 steps.

The walk to your ethics class the next morning is very calming, the university’s nice landscaping and the warm weather calming your nerves down for your first day of classes. When you round the corner of the stonewall you had been following, you’re met with the infamous set of steps.

You have to crane your neck to look up at the top of the staircase, your jaw slightly dropping at how steep of a hill the stairs were built on. There are other students around you walking up and down the staircase, their headphones shoved in their ears and their heads down as they make the climb to and from class.

The stonewall you had been following all the way here continues up the staircase on your right and on the left is a thick wall of trees, their branches hanging over the stairs and giving protection from the sunlight to the students below. You begin to count every step on your way up; four regular steps, the fifth one a bit longer than the rest, and then repeat. It’s not that you don’t trust Mark’s words when he said there’s 109 steps, you just want to count for yourself.

You hear some rowdy boys coming down the stairs, but the noise is not enough to pull your head up from the ground or to stop you from counting, until you’re forcefully pushed into the stone wall on your right. Breathing in through your teeth sharply, your left hand clutches your collarbones where the pain is the worst.

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.” The guy laughs through his words, a high-pitched and almost squeaky laugh, making him sound not as sincere as he probably meant to be. When you turn to face him, the first thing you notice are his eyes. Chocolate colored and almond shaped, some laugh lines showing from the remnants of his shenanigans with his friends.

Looking back, you realize you fell in love with his eyes first. How they don’t hold back from showing any emotion, and the mischievousness they hold no matter what.

Even when his smile falls, his face looks pretty; long hair hanging down over his forehead and ears, and plump lips spreading into an ‘o’ shape as he looks at your dragonfly. Every line and detail is just the same as his own, as if fate spent a little more time with you two to make sure you know you’re each other’s soulmate the moment you meet.

“Your mark…” The man points at your hand, and that’s when you realize who you’ve just met. His brilliant eyes fill with excitement and he starts to breath harder, taking a step back from sheer surprise that you’re here. His soulmate. His one and only for the rest of this life.

However it all fades away the moment you drop your hand from your collarbones, stepping past him to continue up the staircase.

“Next time, watch where you’re going.” The first words you ever say to him are filled with so much indifference that Haechan can only follow your back with his eyes, his jaw slack and his hand still reaching out for you.

“Hey, wait-” Haechan is about to run after you, but he’s held back by Renjun, his best friend and the one who pushed Haechan into you in the first place.

“Was that-” Renjun begins, holding onto his friend’s elbow as he also watches you walk up the rest of the 109 steps.

“Yeah… Why did she ignore me like that? She saw that I have the same mark. We’re soulmates!” Haechan almost cries out in confusion, his heart and mind in a mess. Can you blame him? He’s been waiting to meet his soulmate since he knew what the dragonfly on his hand meant. Haechan has never been a patient person, and even waiting several years for you to come to him was testing him. Now that you’re here, he isn’t going to let you go easily.

As Haechan begins to walk back up the staircase to follow you, not caring about his Literature class in 15 minutes, Renjun’s grip on him tightens and pulls him back.

“You can’t just go harass her about this.”

“I’m not going to harass her. I just want to talk.” Haechan tries to pull out of Renjun’s grip again, but the little man has the sturdiness of a boulder and pulls his friend back.

“Maybe she doesn’t want a soulmate?” Renjun and Haechan stop their tug of war at Jaemin’s words. He had been leaning against the handrail by the trees the whole time while watching the scene unfold in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest and his baseball cap covering his eyes. “It’s not that uncommon these days.”

Haechan and Renjun let go of each other at their friend’s words. Jaemin sends them a bitter smile and all three of them recall the incident that happened last year when Jaemin met his own soulmate:

A rejection.

Jaemin took it hard; if it hadn’t been for his best friends, he doesn’t know where he would be in life right now. Jaemin can’t help but let the memories surface as he continues to walk down the stairs, slower than before, his head bowed and his hands shoved into his pant pockets. Renjun sends Haechan a look that tells him to not push the situation further, following Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan sends your retreating figure one last look, watching you reach the top of the staircase and walk into the Hauss building. He retreats and follows his friends dejectedly, the promise of you showing up on this staircase at the same time on Wednesday being the only thing that lets his legs follow his friends down the stairs.

“Hey, ___, come in.” Mark smiles brightly when he recognizes you at the door, stepping aside to let you into the dorm room. “Xiaojun is in the shower still… Will you be okay by yourself if I leave?” He looks unsure as you set your backpack down on Xiaojun’s desk chair.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. You do whatever you need to.” You state and then plop down onto your friend’s bed. You hear Mark laugh and say something about how all the first years look tired at the end of their first day and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. You lay sprawled out on the bed, the only sounds surrounding you is the water from the shower and the ticking of the analog clock on the wall.

Even though the whole ordeal happened several hours ago, you haven’t been able to get the moment you met your soulmate out of your mind. It was almost impossible for you to turn around and walk away. Even now, your feet still itch to go back to that staircase and find the sweet looking guy who you no doubt left confused.

However, you can’t do that— you won’t let yourself do that. And that’s partially why you’re in Xiaojun’s dorm room after your last class today: so that he can knock some sense into you.

The shower turns off and a few moments later, the bathroom door opens and Xiaojun steps out. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders to catch the droplets from his hair; when he sees you laying on his bed, he jumps in fright.

“Good, God,” He sighs and clutches his bare chest with one hand, the other protectively going to the towel around his waist. “Can you say something the next time you come over? I almost had a heart attack because of you.” He walks over to his closet on the other side of the room, rummaging through some clothes as you sit up.

“Sorry, I thought you heard the door open…” You trail off, getting distracted by Xiaojun’s mark. The dragon on his back is huge, taking up most of the area and spreading to his shoulders and upper arms, too. However, that’s not the mark that caught your attention. Right on his ankle sits a three-leaf clover, so small and such a stark difference from the monster drawn on his back.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when Xiaojun turns around and walks back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open, “So, how was your first day?”

“Oh, well, it was okay…” You trail off, speaking a bit louder so that he could hear you from the other room. You stand up and start pacing in the space between Mark’s and Xiaojun’s beds, a nervous habit of yours.

“But? I know there’s a ‘but’ somewhere.” Xiaojun replies.

“Well, something happened…” You trail off, not sure how to make the words leave your mouth yet.

“What is it?” You swallow at the question, your throat dry and hands clammy. You must’ve been taking a long time to answer because Xiaojun walks out of the bathroom, now fully clothed, and stares at your pacing form. “What’s wrong, ___.”

“I met him.” You say simply, hoping Xiaojun gets what you mean, but he doesn’t. You sigh and sink down to the floor slowly, catching yourself on Xiaojun’s bed. The action makes his eyes widen in fear and he crosses the room in a few short strides, kneeling down next to you and searching your eyes for the answer.

“What? What is it?”

“The person with the same mark as me. I met him.”

“... Oh.”

Xiaojun slowly slides down onto his butt in front of you, folding his legs. He’s not sure what to say, or how to comfort you in anyway. He didn’t expect to be the only person around that you trust when something like this happens. He sees the lost look in your eyes and slides towards you to pull you into a hug.

Unlike Xiaojun, and most people in the world, you do not have two marks.

Xiaojun’s dragon and clover match with two different people in this world; one who will be his soulmate and the other who will bring him immense pain. Everyone has two marks— except you; it even states it on your birth certificate, your parents can testify that they’ve never seen a second mark on you, just the lonely dragonfly that spreads its wings over your left hand.

When you were younger, you were curious about what it meant to only have one mark. The people around you always had two marks, the people on the TV shows you liked to watch always had two marks, even anatomy books have depictions of humans with two marks. Why were you different? What did it mean?

After gathering up the guts to type the question into the Google search engine, you found your answers, and it changed your thoughts on your one and only mark forever. The people in the world who only had one mark testified to the same story online: the person who’s mark matched theirs were both their soulmate and the person who hurt them the most.

After learning about that, you promised yourself that if you ever met the person with the same mark as you, you would not meddle with them in any way if they were only destined to bring you pain in the end.

If you knew jumping off a bridge would definitely kill you, you wouldn’t jump, right?

Xiaojun is the only person, other than your parents, who knows about the situation. Which is why when he hugs you, you lean into him and accept his comfort.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about. You must have so many questions.” He mumbles into your hair.

“Not questions. I’m just curious about what I am to him.” You reply, whispering into Xiaojun’s shoulder.

“About what you are to him?”

“I know he’ll be the person I’m meant to love the most, and also the person who will hurt me the most. But am I the one that’s supposed to love him or the one that’s supposed to hurt him?”

“Lots of people say that they can feel it when they meet. Like Lucas, he said he instantly knew Yuqi was supposed to be his soulmate.” Xiaojun thinks back to all the people who have told him the exact same thing, even his parents.

“The guy… he kept calling me his soulmate. He sounded so sure about it, too.” You lean away from Xiaojun to look into his big and curious eyes.

“What about you? What did you feel?” He asks.

“It felt… like I left a part of myself with him.” Xiaojun’s eyes widened at that, “Is that crazy? I was only around him for a minute, maybe less, and I can’t stop thinking about how I never wanted to leave. It was so hard to walk away from him..” You trail off, feeling tears suddenly gather at the edges of your eyes.

“Xiaojun…” The edge in your voice makes him grab a hold on your hands, “I don’t want him to hurt me. I’m not ready for it.”

“Hey, hey…” Xiaojun squeezes your hands before gently guiding your face to his, meeting his eyes with your own, “He’ll hurt you eventually, yeah, but he’ll also be the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally. The person who is going to know you so well, better than yourself. Maybe you should see where he takes you in life? Destiny still wanted you to meet each other no matter what the end game is going to be… Are you really going to tell fate to fuck off?”

“Can’t I?” Your response makes Xiaojun laugh, which he apologises for laughing in a serious situation right after, but the mood is already broken and you laugh at yourself a bit as well.

“C’mon, let’s order something to eat and get your mind off of this, even if it’s just for a few hours.” Xiaojun pulls you off of the floor and reaches for his phone, trying to find the phone number to his favorite delivery place.

You sit on his bed once again, your hands limp in your lap and so much appreciation for Xiaojun in your chest. You probably would’ve gone insane if he wasn’t here for you. His suggestion on giving the guy you met today a chance plays like a record in your head, but the record scratches when you remember the promise you made to yourself a long time ago.

Don’t mess with him. He will only bring you pain in the end.

On Wednesday, Haechan is the first one out of his seat in his Music Theory 3 class, not even waiting for the slow Renjun and even slower Jaemin before sprinting out of the classroom and outside, waiting at the top of the staircase for your figure to appear at the bottom.

Students float up and down the stairs, but he doesn’t see you anywhere amongst them. Eventually, Renjun and Jaemin catch up to him, standing behind him and also staring down the long staircase.

“C’mon, Haechan, we need to go to our next class.” Renjun is the first one to step down, followed by Jaemin. Haechan takes a good look at everyone’s faces on his way down, getting some weird looks sent his way for staring, but he doesn’t care.

“Haechan.” Jaemin suddenly calls out, making his friend turn suddenly to look at him. Jaemin only nods his head to the bottom of the stairs where you just turned the corner. Despite his hurry from before, Haechan stops at the sight of you. His usual confidence is lost when he sees you climb the stairs. Now, he’s not sure if he should approach you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Renjun nudges Haechan, but the younger only turns around to look at his friend.

“I don’t know what to say to her. What do I say to make her see I’m her soulmate?” Haechan asks, helplessness seeping into his words.

Renjun rolls his eyes; whenever his best friend needs to be the usual confident man he is, that’s when the confidence is most likely to drain out of him. Renjun shakes Haechan’s shoulders with a tight grip on his jacket, making some more people send the two of them some weird looks.

“She’s your soulmate, right? Fate already gave you everything you need to know about how to talk to her.” Renjun then pushes his friend towards your direction, “But for the love of god, don’t harass her.” Renjun ends with a pointed look and continues walking with Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan slowly makes his way to you, crossing over to the middle of the staircase and stopping you in your tracks. You look up to inspect who it is that just stopped in front of you, and your surprise fades when you realize it’s the same guy from Monday.

“Hi.” He says simply. You only nod your head, lips pursed, and then move around him to continue walking to class.

“Wait…” Haechan calls after you, but you don’t stop this time. So Haechan keeps walking after you, only one step behind, “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’re my soulmate. I’ve been waiting for you for so long—” You sharply turn to face him, making Haechan cut off and tilt his head up to look at you.

“How do you know I’m your soulmate? What if I’m not?” You ask. Haechan shakes his head softly at that, his golden hair moving over his sun-kissed skin as he does.

“That’s not possible.”

“How do you know?” You ask. Haechan loves how curiosity burns in your eyes. He takes longer than normal to speak only so that he can look over your features and memorize them to the best of his ability. Last night, he tried to recall your face but the image came out so blurry since he only saw you for a moment on Monday. He wants to clearly remember what you look like.

“How about I take you somewhere, and then I’ll tell you?” The proposition stuns you, and your burning curiosity makes you want to say yes. However, going anywhere with him would be breaking your promise to yourself, so you decide to forget it.

“Nevermind…” You mumble, turning around to walk up the stairs again.

“You seem like you really want to know how I’m sure we’re soulmates… Aren’t you curious?” Haechan asks, making you stop in your tracks again. This man has only known you for a day, only talked to you for a few moments, yet he already knows how to get you to do something. “I promise I won’t hurt you, and I’m not lying either.”

You take a moment to think about the proposition. You’re really curious about how he’s so sure that you’re soulmates. Sure, you know you’re soulmates, but why is he so sure you aren’t the person who’s supposed to hurt him? You consider taking up the offer, but can you stay strong to your own promise while being close to him?

Curiosity wins, and you turn back around to face him, nodding and making him smile widely. There’s that crinkle in his eyes again, that sparkle against the sun that makes saying yes to him so much more worth it.

“My friends call me Haechan, but you can call me Donghyuck. That’s my real name.” He sticks out his hand for you to shake. You once heard that physical touch brings soulmates together quicker; you’re not sure if that’s true, but you don’t want to test it.

“I’m ___.” You nod at him and grip onto your backpack straps instead of accepting his handshake.

“Haechan, hurry up or we’ll be late!” You both hear Renjun shout out from the bottom of the stairs, “And on our second day, too.” You hear him groan.

“Okay, ___, I’ll see you here at 7pm tomorrow night.” Haechan turns around to run back to his friends, sending you one last wave goodbye and almost tripping down the stairs as he does.

You take a deep breath and turn around to walk up the rest of the steps. You’re unsure if you did the right thing by agreeing to see him tomorrow night, but the deed is now done, and you can only wait for Donghyuck to quench your curiosity.

As promised, you meet Donghyuck at 7 o’clock sharp the next day. He’s already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs.

“So, where are you taking me?” You ask after saying your hello’s.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles and nods his head to make you follow him. He leads you through parts of campus you haven’t seen yet, the buildings looking older and older the further down the path you walk. Soon, Donghyuck takes a sharp turn into what looks like the middle of the forest but is really just a small, hidden extension of the trail.

Under a canopy of tall trees that wave with the wind to you and Donghyuck, there is a skinny trail that leads to glimmering water. It draws you in, your curiosity struck and your feet now moving on their own accord. Bushes tickle your ankles and the smell of some sort of flower you cannot identify floods your senses, but you can only keep walking towards the sparkling water.

The scene in front of you takes your breath away, a crisp gasp that you have no control over leaves your lips. The pond before you is big, stretching further than what you can see. The water is blue and the setting sun’s light reflects off of it to create rippling sparkles. There are some lily pads floating around, their flowers gone due to the temperature dropping recently.

You didn’t even notice that you stopped walking, your eyes wide as you take in the scenery before you. You almost forget who you’re with and why you came, but Donghyuck doesn’t let that happen. You snap out of it when he continues to walk along the trail that leads around the pond. You walk alongside Donghyuck, a few feet away with your hands awkwardly tucked into your pockets.

“C’mon, let’s sit.” He motions to a weeping willow tree. It’s tall and the branches sway pleasantly in the wind, completely unaware and indifferent to the years of history in the area. Underneath the tree is a sturdy bench, you sit on the left side while Donghyuck sits on the right side. Then, you both take a few moments to stare at the mesmerizing water that led you all the way to this seemingly magical place.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask after a bit.

“Do you not like it?” Donghyuck asks back.

“No.” You quickly reply, looking over his side profile before turning back to the water, “I’m just curious.”

“Something in me knew you would like this place, that’s all.” Donghyuck replies while trying to hide his proud smile, looking down at the grass. “You’re curious about a lot of things, huh?”

“Yeah, I can’t help it. There’s just so much I want to know.” It’s easy to talk to him, a bit too easy. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re supposed to have your guard up in front of him, but it’s proving harder than you thought it would be.

“Like how I’m sure that you’re my soulmate and not the person who is supposed to hurt me?” Donghyuck leans his weight away from you, his eyebrow cocked in a question. You nod your head lightly, playing with your hands on your lap.

“It’s because I’ve already met the person who’s supposed to bring me pain. I’ve already been hurt.” At his words, surprise fills you up and you turn your head to look him straight in the eye.

For some reason, you always thought that when people meet the person who brings them the largest amount of pain to their life, they couldn’t be the same ever again. How does one get hurt so badly, and still live on?

There are so many ways to hurt someone. Some people become bankrupt, some people lose all of their belongings, some people are even physically hurt by the person who has the same mark as them. How does a person go through any of that and still be themselves afterwards? More importantly, how did Donghyuck go through immense pain and still be able to smile at you like he is right here, right now?

“Here.” He begins to explain, pushing his pants around until you can see his second mark through one of the holes in his jeans, a sunflower on his knee, “My dad had the same mark as me.”

“Your…. Dad?” You ask, still confused.

“Mhmm,” He nods, now tracing the petals of the sunflower mark absentmindedly, “My parents immediately knew something was wrong when I was born. Why would a son and dad have the same mark? When I was growing up, he worked a lot, so I spent lots of time with my mom and grew closer to her. I don’t remember much from that time, but I do remember we were happy. We didn’t have a lot, but we had each other; that kind of feeling.” He looks over at you to see if you’re keeping up with the story. To Donghyuck’s surprise, you already have tears lining your eyes.

“Then one day, Dad comes home and tells us he lost his job. I remember my parents fought a lot the few weeks after that happened, mostly about how to raise me if they had no income. Dad would go out and look for work, but always came back with no luck. So eventually, my mom started working. For a while, the reason we could keep living was because of her.” Donghyuck swallows and pauses for a moment before continuing.

“And then one night, dad came home and told us he gambled. Everything, he gambled everything away. Even the little that we had, it wasn’t ours anymore. That night, my dad told me I was a mistake. My parents never meant to have me, and he said…” Donghyuck purses his lips for a moment. It had been a while since he thought about this. The scar on his heart still hurts when he picks at it. “... He said that he wished I had never been born. Then, we wouldn’t have been in that mess.”

“How old were you?” You speak up after a moment.

“Seven? Or eight.” He nods and sniffs his nose, looking down at his knee. The whole day, Donghyuck was preparing himself to tell you this story. He felt that the only way to get close to you was to open up like this first, to show you that he isn’t someone scary or bad. To Donghyuck’s surprise, telling this story hurts less now than it did earlier in this life. Maybe that means time is working, and his heart is being mended bit by bit.

Donghyuck leans his elbows against his knees, looking at the water once again while waiting for you to say anything. Are you still curious? What do you think of him now?

He was in no way prepared to feel your arms wrap around his waist in a hug, your head resting against his shoulder and your chest pressed against his side. He freezes for a moment, and then melts into your embrace completely. He’s overcome with lovesick softness for you, lightly griping the part of your arm that’s across his chest as his head turns to the side to press a kiss to the top of your head. It’s so quick that you don’t even have time to move away or to react. You just let it happen, as it’s supposed to be.

“You said that something in you knew I would like this place,” You mumble against him. He hears your voice straining with emotion, “Well, something in me knows that you need this right now.”

You and Donghyuck sit there until the sparkling water is no longer fueled by the sun’s light, but by the moon’s. It seems as though now you’ve touched Donghyuck, you never wanted to stop. You’re almost one hundred percent sure that it’s because of the soulmate bond, and a part of you nags at yourself for already chipping away at the promise you made to yourself when you were younger.

However, younger you never knew what it would be like to have a person sit in front of you and share a part of his past with you in an act of confidence and security. Your younger self never knew what it would be like to feel the same pain as someone else, and the pull you felt to touch him after sensing that physical affection would help ease that pain away.

Your younger self had no idea it was this easy to fall into a person, especially when you know they’ll catch you.

“God, I’m so sick and tired of Accounting. ___, I’m quitting school.” Xiaojun gravely tells you, his eyes not wavering from his computer screen.

“Shut up and do your homework, Jun.” You mumble, your eyes not leaving your own computer screen as you type up your Ethics essay. Three weeks into school and you’re already fully emerged in your classes. The newness of college has faded and now it’s time to start the next four years of studying endlessly for the future.

“Are you guys… okay? You haven’t moved over there in a few hours.” Mark asks from the other side of the room where he’s doing his own homework. He eyes you and your best friend from where you’re sitting on his bed, “Are you even comfortable?”

You and Xiaojun are sharing a blanket, he’s leaning against his headboard and you’re leaning against the wall. Your legs are thrown over his and several textbooks are scattered over the blanket. You’re not even sure which of these books are yours or his, or which papers laying in messy stacks belong to who.

“Yeah, I think we’re okay. We’ve been studying like this since high school.” Xiaojun answers, his fingers moving along his keyboard at the same time. You nod at Mark and he shakes his head, not understanding you two but accepting the answer.

You’re over at the guys’ dorm room enough that Mark is not surprised to see you here anymore, hanging out with Xiaojun or waiting for him to come back from class. It’s not that you don’t like your own dorm room, but it’s always so quiet in there since your roommate always studies at the library. You only hear her come into the room late at night when you’re on the verge of sleep, and when she leaves early in the morning before your alarm rings. Weekends are the same. You don’t really care, but you’ve started to hate the quiet, so you’re glad that Mark and Xiaojun don’t mind you chilling here.

“Argh,” Mark yawns and stretches after a few minutes, throwing his computer to the side and standing up, “I’m getting some snacks from the vending machine. You guys want anything?”

After you and Xiaojun answer with simultaneous shakes of your heads, which creeps Mark out, he leaves the room to get food. The room is silent for a few more moments until Xiaojun angles the lid of his laptop down to look at you.

“So… How’s the guy?”

“What guy?” You ask, still preoccupied with your essay.

“Your soulmate, ___, what other guy is there?” Xiaojun answers exasperatedly, “You never told me his name, so I don’t know what to call him. Actually, I haven’t heard you talk about him since the first day of classes. I was hoping you’d tell me what happened with him, but I guess I have to go digging up your dirt myself.” He rolls his eyes.

“His name is Haechan.” You answer, moving your computer to the side, “And I haven’t said anything to you about him because… I haven’t seen him in weeks.” You admit quietly.

“Huh? Didn’t you say you were meeting up so he could tell you why he’s sure you’re his soulmate?” You nod your head at the question, “So, what happened after that?”

“Well… I kinda, maybe, sort of…. have been avoiding him.” You answer quietly, stealing a glance at your best friend to see him staring at you blankly. When he sighs and reaches for his pillow, your eyes widen and you hold up your hands in front of you, spewing pleas and ‘wait’s. Xiaojun doesn’t care, though, flinging his pillow from behind him and into your face.

“Ow?” You whine after the pillow makes contact with your head and forces you to turn to face the other way, “Was that necessary?” You rub your nose, the part of your face that hurts worse from his attack. You’re used to Xiaojun doing this to you whenever you did something that both of you know you shouldn’t have so that you can “get some sense knocked into you, hopefully.”

“You’re so dumb. So, so dumb. Why would you avoid him.” It’s not a question, more of a confused statement to the general air. “You realize people would kill to meet their soulmate, right? People would do anything to be in your position, but you just hide away?”

“People would do anything to meet their soulmate, but people would also do anything to stay away from the person who shares their other mark.” You retaliate, “You don’t understand. To me, Haechan is both of those people.”

“There you go again, worrying about the future when you’re not even sure about what is going to happen. When will you stop worrying about something you can’t control and start thinking about today?” Xiaojun sounds so tired talking about this topic, a conversation you’ve had many times in your friendship. You wonder if he’s so tired of it, why he keeps bringing it up himself.

Before you can answer, the door to the room opens and Mark walks in, several snacks in his arms, “Hey, everyone, I hope it’s okay I brought a friend. He’s in the same major as me, just a year younger—”

“___?” Mark stops talking when his friend speaks, surprised that he already knows one of the people in the room. Your eyes widen, jaw slackening as you’re unable to even let out a peep from your mouth.

“You know each other?” Mark asks, looking between his two friends.

“Yeah, you could say I know my soulmate.” Donghyuck replies, making both Xiaojun and Mark’s eyes widen. You suddenly realize the situation you’re in: under a blanket with Xiaojun, your pajamas on, and your soulmate in front of you after you ghosted him for weeks. For the first time in a while, your eyes meet.

Donghyuck is mad. You can tell by how his fists are clenched and his jaw is tightened. Slowly getting out of the bed, you try to form some words, but Donghyuck snaps and walks over to you quickly. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you out of the room and down the hallway until you get to the lounge area. When you reach the empty room, that’s when you come to your senses.

“Donghyuck,” You pull your arm out of his, making him turn to face you, “I’m not even wearing shoes.” You hiss, pointing down to your feet as if to prove some point.

“What was all that?” He disregards your comment and hisses back at you, stepping closer so that you’re barely a few inches apart. “You were under a blanket. With some guy. Don’t you feel wrong doing that?” He asks, his hands now on his hips. You feel slightly like you’re being lectured to.

“That guy is my best friend.” You spit out.

“So, do you go around and do that to all of your guy friends?” Donghyuck chuckles vehemently, you can tell he’s angry and jealous, and that those emotions are clouding his brain at the moment. That doesn’t mean his words don’t hurt, though.

“Xiaojun and I have been best friends since we were in diapers. I’ve known you for three weeks, barely. I’m more comfortable around him than I am with you. You think just because I’m your soulmate, I’ll automatically trust you and we’ll all of a sudden be a happy couple? It doesn’t work like that, Donghyuck. I don’t even know you.” You can tell you hurt him by your last words because he turns silent, his shoulders slouching and his anger subsiding.

You can tell you hurt him, hard, because you feel the hurt, too.

It makes you realize how scary the bond between soulmates is. Even though you and Donghyuck haven’t spent that much time together to strengthen your bond, it’s still strong enough to allow you to feel his emotions. It makes you wonder if Donghyuck will be able to feel your pain in the future when he hurts you, like he’s destined to.

“Have you even tried to get to know me? You’ve been avoiding me ever since I took you to the pond.” At his comment, you fold your arms over your chest and look away, not ready to answer that question.

“I’m… just scared, is all.” You manage to reply. Although not the complete truth, it’s not a total lie. Donghyuck completely softens at your words, his close proximity to you feels less threatening and turns into something more gentle. His hand softly slips into yours, but this time with a lighter touch than before.

“You don’t have to be scared, not around me. I’m new to this too, so I don’t know how it all works yet, but this is something we can figure out together. That’s what we were fated to do.” Donghyuck can feel his words pulling you closer to him, he can feel you on the edge and he’s ready to catch you with his arms wide open.

But in the last second, you take a step back and slip your hand out of his, making his drop limply to his sides. You send him a look, something he can’t read, and then turn around and walk back to the dorm he pulled you out of.

He almost had you, almost.

When midterms come around, you use your upcoming tests and projects as a way to dive deep into your work so that you don’t have to think about Donghyuck. It’s a good plan overall, however your friends quickly start worrying for you and your health. Staying up late several nights in a row and not even being able to remember when the last time you ate is where Xiaojun pulled the plug on your bad studying habits. He confiscated your backpack and dropped you off in front of your dorm building with the promise that you’ll have all of your things back tomorrow morning only if you rest for tonight.

On your way to the elevator, you run into Yuqi, both of your facial expressions brightening when you recognize each other.

“Oh, ___, Hi!” You stop in the middle of the hallway to greet her, a smile pulling at your lips due to her bright hello. “How are you?”

“Midterms are kicking my ass, but other than that I’m fine.” She laughs at your answer, throwing her head back and letting her new short hair ruffle her shoulders.

“I wish I could tell you it gets better, but that would be a lie.” You nod your head in solemn understanding, “Listen, I can’t talk for long since I have a night class, but promise to text me when things slow down, yeah?”

“Of course, I promise.” You nod, just the thought of spending some time with a good friend already pushes away your stress. You wave bye to Yuqi as she begins to turn around but after a loud “oh!” leaves her lips, she turns back to face you.

“Your roommate, her name is Mya, right?” At her random question, you tilt your head in confusion, “She has really long, black hair and big glasses, right? I think I saw her when I was helping you move in?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” You nod, “Why?”

“She found her soulmate today.” You would’ve been more interested in the news if you knew Mya beyond when she goes to class and when she gets back to the dorm, but you feign surprise and nod your head absentmindedly.

“Lucas managed to get a video. It was a whole performance in the quad today, you’d think someone was getting married. I’ll send it to you later.” And with that, she says her last goodbye and runs off. You slowly turn and continue walking in a slow pace up to your dorm room, taking the stairs just so you can have some time to think and be away from people you could potentially run into if you use the elevator.

You’re genuinely happy for Mya, even if you barely know a single thing about her. However, something about a person close to you finding their soulmate makes you sad, considering the situation with your own soulmate. You can’t help but feel a little jealous that there are people who can meet their soulmate and fall into each other’s lives easily.

In times like these, you crave for Donghyuck.

You crave his touch and his words, you crave that comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere you get when he’s around. It’s insane that you haven’t spent much time together, yet you can yearn for someone to the extent that it hurts. It’s been like this ever since Donghyuck pulled you out of Xiaojun’s dorm and you rejected him.

Turning away from him all those weeks ago still haunts you. When you’re struggling to fall asleep, your mind goes to that night. When you let your mind wander, it wanders to that night. You constantly think about stepping away from him, but you’re not sure if you keep remembering the moment out of guilt or shame. One of the questions you keep asking yourself is if you did the right thing. You still do not have an answer.

When you walk into your dorm room, you kick off your shoes and turn on your bedside lamp, falling onto your bed with a deep sigh. You close your eyes for a second, but the peace and quiet of your room is ruined when your phone dings with a notification.

Yuqi’s message pops up, and when you swipe your phone open you can see she sent a video. You click on it and turn the volume up. This was no doubt taken earlier today in the quad, the sun shining and lots of professors and students walking in the background. Under the huge clock tower stand two people, one of them holding a large bouquet of roses. When the clock strikes noon, the bells on top of the tower begin to ring a familiar melody that can be heard all over your big campus. You see the exchange of the bouquet and the two people hug, and then applause rises from the people walking by. You smile when you hear Lucas’ whooping and hollering from behind the phone.

You’ve heard about the tradition of soulmates meeting under the clock tower at your university. Yuqi told you about it when she was giving you a tour around campus at the beginning of the semester. You remember her telling you that it’s really romantic, probably due to the history of so many people getting together in the exact same spot.

Although the idea is rather plain, you do feel your heart strings tug at the beautiful display, glad you could see something like this through a video. Then, as the camera gets closer to the couple, your smile fades and you pause the video, zooming in to get a better view. Mya is no doubt the one who received the flowers, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows as you recognize her soulmate.

It’s one of Donghyuck’s friends.

Not the quiet one with black hair that hangs around on the outside of their group, but the shorter one who seemed to simultaneously love and hate Donghyuck, or at least that’s what you gathered from seeing him a few times.

After the realization, you drop your phone to the side and stare up at your ceiling in defeat. Is this fate? If you didn’t meet Donghyuck on those steps two months ago, would you eventually meet him through your roommate and her soulmate? Or is this all just one big coincidence?

In this world, coincidences are harder to find than the work of fate.

Your train of thought is quickly cut off by the opening on the door, you quickly sit up to watch a huge red bouquet of flowers enter the room, followed by your roommate. You’ve only seen her face a few times this semester, but never have her features looked so bright and happy. She also looks startled when she notices you’re in the room, but her happiness doesn’t fade.

“Oh? You’re here?” She asks.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You both chuckle awkwardly, “Congrats, by the way. For finding your soulmate.” You motion to the flowers in her hand.

“Thank you! To be honest, Renjun wasn’t at all what I expected in a soulmate, but I think I love him already.” The sweetness drips from her eyes and words, and you nod and smile, remembering that Donghyuck’s friend’s name is Renjun. Her phone begins to ring and she shuffles the flowers in her hand to look at the screen, “Oh, it’s him.”

She answers the call, speaking quietly as she walks over to her side of the room. You weigh out the options of sneaking out of your dorm and finding a place to chill until your roommate falls asleep. You're not sure if you can talk to her about soulmate stuff and keep up this happy look on your face.

However, all thoughts of those plans leave your mind when Mya turns to you and holds out the phone, “It’s for you?” She says it more like a question, but you’re sure you’re the one who’s more confused.

“Hello?” You ask into the phone, awkwardly looking around the room.

“___? Oh, thank god. It’s Renjun, Haechan’s friend. I need your help.” He talks quickly and shallowly, like he’s out of breath and currently moving somewhere.

“How did you know I’m Mya’s roommate?” You ask, disregarding his cry for help.

“It’s a long story, I promise I’ll explain later, but can you please come to the auditorium? The back entrance.” You hear more voices in the background of the call, but you can’t make out what they're saying. One of them is definitely Donghyuck.

“What’s going on?” At the sound of your soulmate’s unique tenor, you suddenly become more aware of what might be happening. Is Donghyuck safe? Did he get in trouble?

“Donghyuck drank too much and he won’t go home, he keeps asking for you.” At that, you hand the phone back to Mya, who takes it from you with an unsure look. By the time Mya says her worried goodbyes and hangs up, she turns back to an empty dorm room, your phone snatched from your bed and your scattered shoes gone.

You must’ve made it to the auditorium in record time, not even the climb up the 109 steps could slow you down. When you reach the auditorium, you can hear Donghyuck and his friends conversing loudly and you follow their voices, which eventually leads you to the dingy backside of the auditorium. Donghyuck is sitting on the ground with the hood of his coat pulled up and covering his eye sight, arms crossed over his chest and his lips in a pout. His two friends, Renjun and the black-haired kid, stand above him. The quiet one is shivering in his spot while Renjun practically yells at Donghyuck on the ground, who doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon.

“Hi, ___.” The quiet one notices you first and then all three guys turn to look at you.

“___…” Donghyuck whines out your name and tries to stand up but Renjun gently pushes him back down.

“What happened?” You ask, sniffing your nose when the harsh, cold air nips at it.

“He said he wanted to unwind before his midterms tomorrow but then he went out and had some drinks, a few too many as you can see.” Renjun explains, “We followed him here, he said he won’t go anywhere unless it’s with you.”

“It’s strange. Haechan is a good drinker, I didn’t think he would get drunk so quickly… Oh, I’m Jaemin, by the way.” He introduces himself with a bright smile, as if you weren’t just discussing the drunken state of his friend.

“I’m Renjun, I called you earlier. I promise I have a good explanation for how I know you’re Mya’s roommate, I just don’t think right now is the best time to talk about it.” Renjun explains, his hands pointing towards Donghyuck.

“Right, about him… I think you guys should leave.” Both sober men widen their eyes, looking at each other and then back at you.

“Are you sure you want to handle this yourself? He looks small, but Haechan is kind of heavy.” Jaemin warns.

“Hey!” Donghyuck speaks up, but even his verbalization sounds slurred. When he points an accusing finger at Jaemin, he sways and misses Jaemin’s figure by a whole foot, “Don’t say that kind of stuff to my girlfriend.”

At his use of the word, Jaemin and Renjun stand straight with awkwardness and you sigh, white puffs of air leaving your mouth, “Yeah, you guys should go.”

Renjun and Jaemin give you an unsure look, but turn around and leave the area anyway. Renjun sends one last look over his shoulder with a wave of his hand. You look at Donghyuck after they turn the corner, kicking his shoe gently.

“Hey, get up. How much did you drink?” You’re not actually curious about how much alcohol he consumed, you just want to know if he can even respond to simple questions.

“Babe!” He exclaims when he looks up, “Oh, not much. I could go for another round right now, actually.” His words slur together and he sways in his sitting position against the brick wall of the auditorium.

“You’re not going for another round, you’re going home. C’mon.” You grab onto the sleeve of his puffer jacket, pulling him up so that he’s standing. He immediately falls onto you, his arms around your waist and his legs spread wide so that his head is hidden in your neck.

“Hyuck, you have to walk. Get up.” You pull him up once again, putting one of his arms around your shoulders and giving him more support around his waist. Slowly, you begin to walk away from the auditorium with Donghyuck’s drunk mumbling filling the cool air. His legs barely work underneath him, and he turns his head and leans into your ear every once in a while to sing some random lyric that pops into his mind at that second, like a small concert that he allows only you to hear.

Once you reach the top of the staircase, you stop and take a long look down to the bottom, “Why did you have to come all the way up here? How are we getting down the stairs?” If you start to climb down, Donghyuck could fall and hurt himself. You’re not that strong to begin with and your shoulders are already feeling sore from carrying most of Donghyuck’s weight.

“We can ride this.” He giggles and breaks away from you, one of his legs swinging over the handrail so that he’s straddling it.

“No, no, no.” You pull him off, but his shoe gets caught against the rail and he comes falling down onto you, both of you landing on the top step of the staircase. You wince in pain at how your back hits the concrete, but you don’t think about it much as you push Donghyuck off of you and into the space next to you on the top stair.

“Oh, no. Are we stuck up here?” He asks as you brush your hands together to get rid of the little pieces of concrete in your skin.

“Yes, and it’s all your fault. What are you gonna do about it?” You reply, so sarcastically that even Donghyuck’s drunk brain registers the joke. Your heart almost leaps out of your throat when he grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him, gently picking out each little ball of cement in your palms.

“I’m sorry I keep hurting you.” He apologizes. This close, you can smell the alcohol in his breath, mixed with his shampoo and cologne. He smells warm in this cold weather, and you feel like falling into him and drinking up his scent, not even minding the alcohol stench.

“Keep hurting me?” You ask.

“Yeah, that must be why you don’t want to be with me. I have to be doing something wrong for you to hate me.” He sighs, sniffling and enclosing your hands in his, his glassy eyes looking up at you and his long hair hangs down over his forehead and tickles his eyelashes. “I’m a bad soulmate.”

The way he says it makes your heart break. It makes you feel regret 1000 times worse than what you’ve been feeling these past few weeks; as if all of the worry and sadness hit you all at once, you feel like crying.

Isn’t he supposed to be the one who hurts you? Why does it feel like you’re the only one doing the hurting?

“You’re not a bad soulmate,” It’s not Donghyuck’s fault that he got stuck with you, or that things will turn out the way that they’re destined to, “And I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” He looks up into the night sky and sways a bit as he thinks, “Then why won’t you be with me? Hm?” He tilts his head, his lips pouting as he thinks. You desperately want to find an answer that’ll soothe him, but nothing you can come up with will give you that result, the truth included.

“It’s complicated…” You trail off, and your answer makes Donghyuck snort.

“How? I’m your soulmate, you’re mine. What else matters?” He laughs incredulously.

“What if you’re not just my soulmate?” You ask him, surprising yourself with how easily you can ask the question, probably because the influence of alcohol over him has you more at ease, “What if something happens in the future? I’m just… looking out for me, and for you.” You explain, trying to sound as vague as possible.

When you glance at Donghyuck, he looks dead serious. You think that maybe he has suddenly sobered up with how deep and calculating his eyes look. One of his hands tighten around yours while the other slowly raises to your hair, pacing himself along the way, and pausing before he touches you. When you don’t stop him, he gently caresses your hair and moves it away from your face, his nimble fingers sliding to your jaw. He moves your face so that your eyes meet his.

“I know I’m drunk, but I can make this promise again when I’m sober. I’ll make this promise every single day for the rest of my life, only if it means you can be there with me to fulfill it.” The severeness in his tone is like a wake up call about how serious this is for him.

“What promise?” You whisper back.

“It’s not just a ‘you’ or just a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ And I will do everything I can to not hurt us.”

He says it with so much conviction that you somehow believe him. You finally fall into him and rest your tired head on his shoulder as he welcomes you into his warm arms. Maybe it’s foolish of you to think you two can go against fate’s words, but with him by your side, you feel like you can conquer the whole universe.

“Stop smiling like that, you’re making it very obvious that you got laid for the first time.” Donghyuck peers over his laptop screen to Renjun, where he has had a permanent smile on his face ever since he, Donghyuck, and Jaemin met up today to study in the lounge center of their dorm building.

“You know, Haechan, I’m not even mad at that. It’s more than what I can say to you.” Renjun tries to hide his widening smile while looking down at his own laptop, but that paired with Jaemin’s quiet laughter leaves Donghyuck bitter. “Didn’t you and ___ make up?” Renjun asks.

“They were fighting? I thought they just weren’t talking to each other?” Jaemin asks.

“Isn’t that fighting?”

“Kids.” Haechan cuts them off, “Not that it’s any of your business, but we were not fighting and we did make up.”

“That makes no sense.” Jaemin mutters and squints his eyes at Donghyuck.

“I’m older than you.” Renjun retaliates, but Donghyuck pretends like he doesn’t hear.

“We’re just… taking it slow.” Donghyuck ends his explanation with a firm nod of his head, and Renjun shuts his laptop and turns to his friend.

“Can you take it slow during the Fair this weekend? I’m planning to go with Mya and accidentally bought two pairs of tickets. I’ll give you the other pair.” Renjun leans into his friend’s side and wiggles his eyebrows.

“At what cost?” Haechan leans in as well and raises an eyebrow.

“Help me with my English project.”

“No way,” Haechan leans back and focuses on his own laptop screen again, “I haven’t even started mine, I don’t have time to help you with yours.”

“Please,” Renjun draws out the word, grabbing Donghyuck’s sleeve and tugging at it so hard that he can’t properly type, “I suck at English, and unfortunately it’s the only thing that you’re better at than me.”

“The only thing?” Donghyuck glares at Renjun. “Now I’m definitely not helping you.” When Renjun whines at that Donghyuck gets a devilish idea, and it shows by the smirk on his face, “... Unless, you’d like to show us how you really need help.”

At Donghyuck’s proposition, he leans back in his chair with his arms folded across his  chest while Jaemin mirrors his actions, his own goofy smile on his face as he waits for Renjun to either accept or deny the proposition, but he hopes he’ll accept it.

Renjun looks between his two friends and sighs, dropping his head down as he mentally prepares himself. When he lifts his head, he looks at Donghyuck with his lips pursed, his pointer finger over them and makes a “kyu” sound that is way higher than his original speaking voice. Jaemin and Haechan immediately burst into as quiet of laughter as they can, Jaemin reaching over the table to poke Renjun’s cheek at his cuteness.

“I never said to act cute, I just wanted you to say please again.” Donghyuck jokes through his snickering, and Renjun immediately stands up from his chair to take a fistful of Haechan’s jacket and pull back his other fist, all cuteness gone from his facial features in a split second.

“Okay, okay, sorry, sorry.” Haechan tries to pull away, his voice rising as Renjun holds onto his jacket tighter and threateningly leans in.

“Hey, quiet down.” Someone whisper-shouts from a few tables away, and it makes Renjun let go of Donghyuck and slowly sit back down. “This isn’t even a library, why are they shushing me.” He grumbles.

“You guys have fun on your date,” Jaemin sighs as he begins to put away his things, satisfied with the study session and with his friends' mischief, “I would go too, but I don’t feel like being a fifth wheel.”

Once your classes end on the day of the Fair, you and your roommate meet up with Donghyuck and Renjun outside of the Fair grounds. You and Donghyuck walk side by side, a bit behind the other couple as they lead the way, practically in their own little bubble. Your hands are shoved in your pockets to keep them from turning numb from the cold and you try to shove your head as far into your jacket as you can to keep your face and neck protected from the wind. Other than the chilly weather, it’s a perfect day for a Fair.

You don’t seem to notice Donghyuck’s predicament right beside you; he’s trying to find a way to hold your hand, but you don’t move them out of your pockets. Actually, Donghyuck is sure you’re doing this on purpose, since he has been trying to touch you the moment you met up with him tonight.

“So, what do you wanna ride first?” He asks you. After looking around the area, your eyes land on a tea cup ride, where the large cups move in circles and also spin in their spots.

“That.” You point to it. Before you can move, Donghyuck latches into your hand that was pointing into the air and pulls you to the ride, a smug smile on his face at how he succeeded in finally sharing some skin to skin contact.

The ride was, to say the least, nauseating. Not that it was disgusting, but Donghyuck wouldn’t stop spinning your individual cup around in fast circles, and you were so sure that you would fling off any second due to the strong velocity those tiny cups have when they go at full speed. However, walking off of the ride with wobbly legs and not being able to see straight was funnier than you thought it would be.

Donghyuck was actually still pretty dizzy when he tried to win a stuffed octopus for you with a dart game. However, he ended up losing $15 while trying to win the game, and you’re sure he would’ve spent more if you didn’t pull him away. After eating some good food and refilling your energy, the sun begins to set on the horizon in a colorful display of red, orange and pink, and people start to make their way to the ferris wheel.

“C’mon,” You hear Mya say from behind you, “We need to get in line first or else we’ll be waiting for half of the night.” She pulls Renjun by his sleeve and passes you and Donghyuck, practically running to the end of the growing line for the Ferris Wheel. When you see where she’s running to, you stop in your tracks which in turn makes Donghyuck stop. Your intertwined fingers pull you back to each other as he looks at you with a puzzled look.

“I’m… not good with heights.” You confess and look towards the top of the ferris wheel, shivering just at the thought of going that far up into the sky in a metal contraption, “Or small spaces…” You add on.

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck gently reassures, smiling lightly at your sudden timidness about your fears. Honestly, he’s just happy you now trust him a bit more to even tell him what you’re afraid of. “We don’t have to go. We can do something else.”

“Like what?” You ask. Donghyuck purses his lips and looks around, until a set of stairs on the edge of the fairgrounds catches his eye.

“I know a place where we can still get a good view of the sunset without going too far up.” He replies and tugs you along with him towards the set of stairs. They lead down to the park that’s nestled in the middle of your University, which eventually leads to a pedestrian bridge that crosses over a river that runs through your town.

The river isn’t that big, nor is the bridge, but it’s big enough to have your head tilting up in wonder as you gaze at the lights adorning the sides of it, lighting up not only the bridge itself by the sky as well. You’ve seen this bridge from your dorm room, but you’ve never once stood on it, and it looks remarkable from this close up.

Donghyuck continues to lead you over the pedestrian bridge onto the other side, where an outdoor museum that was constructed by art students a few years ago holds several different abstract paintings. His hand in yours, which has been it’s resting place all night, keeps yours warm. You try not to think about how your hands fit into each other like the gears of a hand-crafted watch. The lines on your palms connect with the lines on his; it’s painfully obvious he was made for you and you were made for him.

When you reach the end of the outdoor museum, you turn west and face the sunset just as it’s setting over the skyline. Even though some tall buildings obstruct the view, the colors of the sky stretch overhead and make both you and Donghyuck stand still and appreciate the artwork in the sky.

“You like these kinds of things, huh? Sunsets, and ponds, and that kind of stuff?” He suddenly asks, not talking his eyes off of the sky. You, however, turn to look at him. He has his eyes screwed as he tries to look at the sunset, obviously not liking the bright sunlight.

“You don’t?” You ask back.

“I think... there are more enjoyable things.” Donghyuck takes a while to make up his mind about what he wants, obviously trying not to make the things you enjoy sound bad to him.

“Then we should go.” You turn around, but he pulls you back to your original spot.

“We walked all this way, we’re watching this sunset even if my feet freeze to the ground.” He tightens his grip on your hand and speaks through his teeth, making you sputter out a laugh and hit his shoulder with your own lightly.

“Sometimes, I wonder why fate put us together.” You ask, watching as the sun moves bit by bit, leaving behind trails of light and the beginnings of stars and the vast universe on the other side of the sky. “We’re different. I don’t know about you, but you are not who I imagined my soulmate would be.” You speak truthfully.

Even though there are some strings attached to Donghyuck’s relationship with you, it didn’t stop you from thinking about what kind of person he’d be— what kind of person fate would pick to be your perfect fit. Maybe they would have some sort of major flaw, like an anger problem or a lack of common sense. Maybe they would be an alcoholic or someone who commits crimes.

When it came to your soulmate, you always thought of something bad considering that they were also going to hurt you in some way. You never thought that your soulmate would be someone as unique and fun as Donghyuck. Fate made it way too easy to be with him, and you’re not sure whether to feel bitter or thankful.

“Well,” He blows some air through his nose, “You’re exactly what I thought my soulmate would be like” Your heart jumps into your throat and beats irregularly when Donghyuck says that, struck with the feeling of surprise once again.

“Mark tells me you’re smart and get good grades, and I know it was you who ordered that soup for me the morning after you took me home when I got drunk. Not to mention, you went out when it was dark to take me home in the first place.” Donghyuck explains, his hand that’s still interlocked with yours waving around as he does so, “You’re willing to help others, you have a good head on your shoulders, and not to mention you guard your heart to the very end.”

“Guarding my heart… That’s an admirable quality? If I remember correctly, it caused you some pain in the past few months.” By now, the last rays of the sun are disappearing over the horizon and night begins to blanket the sky. You turn to your soulmate when he takes more than a moment to answer, watching the way his face reacts to the thoughts turning in his head.

“Yeah, it is a great quality. I think if you completely trusted me the moment you saw me on those stairs, we wouldn’t end up here now. You wouldn’t be the perfect fit for me if you loved me so easily.” He turns to you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Your interlocked fingers are basically frozen together at this point and maybe your feet really have stuck to the ground, but his words warm you up from the inside out.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Somehow, he manages to remind you of one very important fact that you’ve set aside since the moment you met him. You’ve always put the fact that he’s supposed to hurt you first, and the fact that he’s your soulmate second. However, he is a human and so are you, and you’re both given the opportunity to love one another wholly and truly. People die to have this type of moment. People live their whole lives without experiencing this type of emotion.

It’s time to remember that Donghyuck is your soulmate, first and foremost. He is deserving of love, and you’re now willing to give it to him.

When you pull Donghyuck into you, he feels like it may be a hallucination. Surely your lips can’t be that close to his own. But when he smells the cinnamon on your lips from that churro you had and your fingers sliding up his arm to grip his jacket, he becomes scared that this might actually be a hallucination.

You slowly lean in, almost painfully slow, but Donghyuck doesn’t dare rush you. When your lips do meet, both of you feel complete. The feeling of finishing a lifetime’s worth of work with one gentle kiss is the most delicious feeling ever, different from anything that either of you have ever experienced.

It’s slow and careful, but passionate and full of true love. No matter what happens in the future, it will always be your memory to savor and remember for the rest of your lives.

“___!” You hear Mark’s voice from your right, turning your head quickly to see him stick his hand up in the air and begin to make his way through the throngs of people between you two. You move towards him, attempting to meet in the middle, but somehow he ends up behind you, and you laugh as you attempt to meet again.

“Hey, Mark,” You look over him, noting how well he manages to pull off the choir robe that everyone else seems to look like a sack of potatoes in, “I didn’t know your concerts could get this packed. You guys could start your own group and make it big.” You look around while adjusting the flowers in your hand so they don’t get squished against your chest.

“Nah, it’s mostly just families that come to these concerts. Since there are a lot of vocal majors, there are a lot of families that show up.” He explains.

“So, what does that make me?” You joke, but Mark doesn’t seem to get it and tilts his head to the side.

“You’re Donghyuck’s girlfriend. That makes you family, right?” At the mention of your relationship, you glance down at the flowers in your hand, the flowers that are meant for the aforementioned boy. You nod, mumbling something like a ‘I guess’ before Mark looks down at his watch and sucks a breath through his teeth.

“Okay, I have to go warm up. Make sure you get a seat in the middle, that’s where it sounds best.” He gives you a quick wave as he walks away, and you manage to send one back. Before you know it, the doors to the auditorium open and people flood in to grab the best seat they can.

You barely manage to snag a seat in the middle, an older lady to your right and a grandpa to your left who seem to be unrelated and didn’t mind you sitting between them. You shrug off your coat as you look around, feeling anxiety build up in your chest. You know you don’t have anything to be anxious for, so you deduct that it’s probably Donghyuck.

He invited you to the concert today. For him, it’s part of his final grade for his vocal class and for you, it’s a chance to see him sing on stage. Strangely, he has talked about how much he loves to perform but never wants to sing in front of you. When he told you he auditioned for a solo in one of the songs, and ended up getting the part, you knew you absolutely had to come today.

Pulling out your phone, you send Donghyuck a text saying that you’re seated and that you wish him to break a leg. You see the read receipt pop up next to your text, and although he doesn’t text anything back, the anxious feeling in your chest subsides and you smile to yourself.

“Those are pretty flowers.” Turning your head to the lady on your right, you glance down at the bouquet of black-eyed susans on your lap.

“Oh, thank you.” You put your phone on silent and slip it into your pocket.

“They’re my mom’s favorite.” Your attention turns to a kid who sits on the other side of the woman. He can’t be any older than ten, and his feet don’t touch the ground as he swings them back and forth and looks up at his mother.

“Oh?” You ask, turning back to the older woman, “Would you like some?”

The woman seems to be stunned by your question, obviously not expecting you to hand over flowers at such a comment from her son. She looks almost flustered as she shakes her head at you.

“No, it’s okay. I bet those are for someone special?” She asks while nodding towards the stage.

“They’re for my… boyfriend.” You mumble, still not used to the words leaving your tongue, even though it has been more than a few weeks now.

“Then you should save them for him.” She nods and you smile back.

“But I want one.” The woman’s son pouts, and the mother nudges her foot against his leg. You laugh a bit, using your right hand to hold down the bouquet and your left to pull out a flower. Carefully, you hand it over to the little boy and he grasps it, his pout turning into a smile while he sings a ‘thank you’ and counts the petals on the flower.

The woman gives you a nod, and you all turn to face forward where the students are beginning to walk onto the stage.

The concert went well; you weren’t familiar with any of the pieces of music the choir performed, and many of them were in different languages, but you still enjoyed the performance by the many music students from your university. You managed to catch sight of Donghyuck fairly quickly, and Mark was just a few rows behind him.

Donghyuck’s solo fit his voice perfectly. Maybe you’re biased, but you think no one would be able to match his tone and technique to fit the song as perfectly as he did. Since it was the first time you heard him sing, you were a bit taken back by how amazing his voice sounds and how much control he has of it. It didn’t look like he struggled to hit the notes, and he looked like he was in his element on stage.

After the concert, you wait on the staircase outside of the auditorium building where you agreed to meet up with Donghyuck. You roll on your feet, jumping up and down slightly to keep warm. You clutch the flowers to you, scared that the cold weather might cause them to bend and begin to wilt quicker.

“Oh, it’s the flower lady!” You hear a familiar voice call out, and you turn your head to see the little boy and his mom from earlier… walking with Donghyuck? He has his choir robe hanging from one arm and his other hand intertwined with the little kid.

“Do you guys know each other?” Donghyuck asks, looking between the three of you with confusion.

“We happened to sit next to each other during the concert.” The woman explains, a grin growing on her face as she looks between you two. “This is your soulmate.” She doesn’t say it like a question, she says it plainly and nods her head in content.

“I’m sorry, did you already know who I was when we met?” You ask her.

“No, until I saw the mark on your left hand. I would recognize my own son’s mark anywhere.” Son? This is Donghyuck’s mother?! Your eyebrows must be up to your hairline and you think your mouth might be open, but you can only focus on remembering every little thing you said to her before the concert started to recall if you said anything dumb.

“Let me introduce you properly. This is ___, my soulmate and my girlfriend. ___, this is my mom, Sara, and my half-brother, Hyunjin.” Donghyuck gently takes your elbow and pulls you closer to him.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet them as if it’s the first time ever.

“Well, I like her. She gave me a flower.” Hyunjin exclaims.

“Back off, she’s mine.” Donghyuck jokes with the kid. “Thank you guys for coming today, by the way.” He continues, “I appreciate my favorite people being here for my first college performance.”

Donghyuck goes to hug his mom as she sets a kiss to his cheek that makes him cringe away slightly. However, you’re still struck to your spot from being included into Donghyuck’s group of favorite people. There’s a warm feeling in your chest at being included into something so special so early on in your relationship. There’s also some anxiety that comes with it, since promises that are made too early hurt the most, but you push the feeling away and soak in Donghyuck’s unconditional love.

After you all bid farewell to each other, and Sara and Hyunjin leave, you turn to Donghyuck with a deadpan expression, “You didn’t tell me I’d be meeting your family today.”

“Would you believe me when I say that I forgot they were coming?” He asks and you roll your eyes, not believing his words at all.

“These are for you.” You push the flowers into his chest and dig your hands into your pockets so that they can finally get warm, “Your solo was… interesting to listen to.” You say with annoyance dripping from every word.

“Thank you,” He replies cutely, not affected by your irritation. You roll your eyes again, but a smile tugs at your lips as well. “What kind of flowers are these? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them?” He asks while digging his nose into the bouquet.

“Black-eyed susans.” You reply, and Donghyuck gives you a weird look.

“That’s such a random flower.”

“They attract dragonflies.” You explain, nudging his side with your elbow. When you glance over to him, he has a smile playing on his lips.

“Should I be giving these to you, then?” He hands them over, but you push them back at him.

“No way. I’m already attracted to you.” You state, turning around to walk back down the staircase. When you don’t hear any footsteps following you, you turn around to find Donghyuck kneeling over with the flowers clutched close to him.

“Are you okay?” Alarm rises in your chest, especially when he shakes his head at your question.

“No, you just made my heart beat really fast and I’m afraid I’m gonna have a heart attack.” You would roll your eyes again, but you’re afraid they might roll out of your head at this point. You climb back up the stairs and yank on his sleeve jacket to make him walk alongside you.

“___, feel my heart. I swear it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“No, seriously, I think we should go to the hospital.”

“Shut up.”

In the morning, Donghyuck loves to wake up next to you. He has always been a spread-out type of sleeper; arms to the side, legs open, laying diagonally across the bed. Once you two moved out of your dorms and moved into an apartment together during your second year of college, Donghyuck’s way of sleeping changed dramatically.

Now, he can’t help but snuggle in, wrap his arms around you, tangle his legs in with yours, and do everything he can to sleep as close as he can to you. Maybe that’s why he suddenly woke up. The absence of you next to him made him shuffle awake, missing the frame of your body next to his like how it usually fits.

He groggily opens his eyes and immediately shivers, catching the open windows in the bedroom letting in fresh, cool, morning air. Donghyuck shivers once again, blindly reaching for the blanket and wrapping it around his head and shoulders, then making his way out of the bedroom in search of you.

He checks the kitchen, but you’re not there. Then he goes to the living room, and he sees your figure outside on the balcony, the curtains that are supposed to be hanging up in your bedroom moving with the wind as they hang next to you. He tightens the blanket around him and opens the glass door. Even though you definitely heard him come outside, you don’t turn around. You have a cup of something warm next to you and you’re leaning against the balcony while staring out into the city skyline, watching the sun rise into the sky to welcome the new day.

“Good morning.” Donghyuck mumbles as softly as he can. When you mumble back a reply, he opens the front of the blanket so he can swallow you into his embrace. His chin rests on your shoulder and tries to guess exactly what you’re looking at, but when he lifts his head to look at your face, your eyes are closed.

“So, do you want to tell me why our curtains are out here and not on our windows like they should be?” He rests his head against yours, also closing his eyes.

“I woke up and suddenly felt the urge to clean them, I don’t know.” You laugh a bit, making both of you move with the movement of your chest. Donghyuck smiles at your reason; one of the things he learned about you when you moved in together is that your work ethic comes in random bursts of energy, rather than carefully planned out schedules to follow. You always have a small goal for every day, and sometimes you don’t even know what it is until it randomly pops into your head. Although he doesn’t really understand how you’re able to work like that, he loves this little quirk anyway.

“Did I wake you up?” You whisper and nudge your head into Donghyuck’s, nuzzling back into him when a particularly strong gust of wind blows over the balcony.

“Not technically, no. You not being next to me woke me up.” He replies.

“Well, I’m here now. How about we sleep some more?” You ask, leaning back against him and looking at his face.

“Best thing I’ve heard today.” He sighs. Without letting you out of his blanket trap, he walks you both back into the apartment and into your bedroom, both of you beginning to giggle at one point when you almost trip over the blanket and crash into the ground.

Thankfully, you both made it back safely to the bed, falling into the soft mattress. Immediately, Donghyuck gathers you in his arms and cuddles you to him, almost like he’s latching onto you. You wrap your arms around him slowly and lean into his shoulder, placing a kiss against his collarbone. You were going to stop there, but when he lets out a whimper at the small press of your lips to his skin, you continue moving up his neck.

When you reach the space underneath his ear, he twitches at how you suck on the sensitive skin, not expecting you to pay closer attention there. His hand slides over your back, between your shoulder blades, and back down, pressing you to him as he caresses you and silently hopes you don’t stop what you’ve started.

You don’t seem to have any intention to do that when you lean back, looking up at Donghyuck’s big, round eyes as they stare down hazily at you and quickly connecting your lips. He kisses back slowly, as if taking his sweet, sweet time in loving you.

“I thought we were supposed to sleep?” You ask between kisses.

“We can sleep later…” He trails off, grabbing your hand and pulling you on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips. “... If you’re really tired we don’t have to.” He suddenly pulls away, his hand comfortably resting over your waist.

“No way. It’s too late for that.” You answer, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the other side of the bed. A chill runs through you at the cold temperature in the room, goosebumps forming over your arms and your nipples hardening. Donghyuck wraps his arms around your middle and presses a kiss in the valley of your chest, moving over until he reaches your left nipple and taking it into his mouth.

Biting your lip, your hands find his hair and tug on the long strands. Donghyuck’s hands squeeze your sides and his fingers draw random, little lines over your bare skin as he sucks and plays with your nipples, switching between each one.

“Hyuck…” You whine, giving a particularly sharp tug to his hair when he bites down onto your right nipple. “Please…” You trail off.

“Hmm? Please what? What do you want.” He leans back and looks up at you. You comb your fingers through his hair, pushing it back away from his face and behind his ears. His eyes are clouded and hooded over by the thoughts of you that are speeding through his mind.

“Please, make love to me.” You say it shyly, your eyes looking over his face but not meeting his own. He can’t help but smile at your timidness. You act like it’s the first time those words came out of your mouth. He can’t help but find it endearing how you ask him to make love to you every single time you find yourselves in this position.

“Of course, anything for you.” He connects your lips again, keeping the slow and steady pace from before. He shifts around as he moves his boxers away. Breaking the kiss, you move his hands away and pump his shaft, glancing up at him as he leans back with his weight on his hands and his head leaning back.

He lets out whines every time you twist your wrist, and you almost want to take a moment and stay this way, loving the sounds coming from Donghyuck’s mouth and how he looks as he pants beneath you. However, the tension growing between your legs makes you stop and sit up, pulling off your own pajama bottoms and underwear, throwing them somewhere along with your shirt.

Donghyuck grips your hips with one hand, the other pressing his middle finger to your slick folds, watching you squirm from above as he slides his finger through slowly.

“Just— Can you just do something already?” You almost whine out, grabbing onto his arm hard enough that you leave crescent moons in his skin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure.” With your permission, Donghyuck positions himself at your entrance and slowly brings your hips down, watching your reaction throughout it all. The way your jaw slacks and drops open to the way you swallow when your hips meet with his, closing your eyes in pleasure at how he manages to fit inside you so perfectly. When everyone says your soulmate is made specifically for you, they really do mean in every way possible.

You sit like that for a moment, before opening your eyes and looking at your lover. He helps you move your hips up and back down, you let out a gsap at the sparks that fly up your spine. Your hips start to move in unison, yours grinding down and his moving up to meet yours in a steady rhythm, like a dance to music only you two can hear.

Your nails hurt when they move over his shoulders and chest, leaving temporary marks, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind. Actually, he loves it when you tug on his hair and scratch up his back, his whines turning into full out groans when you lean in and attach your lips to the side of his neck, pressing hot kisses down to his collarbone and biting down gently in the same place this whole situation started.

“H-Hyuck, I—” Before you know it, you’re so close to your orgasm, it’s basically right in front of you to reach out and accept.

“I know, baby, I know. You can come, I got you.” He answers back messily, using the last of his energy to keep your hips in place and drive himself into you. You let out a shriek at the sudden pleasure, only a few more deep thrusts into your hole and you’re falling over him as your orgasm spreads to every crevice of your body.

Donghyuck loves the way your muscles seize and flutter around him, making him pant and his thrusts become sloppy as he comes as well, his warm seed filling you up as he rides through his high. You both fall into the mattress below, you on top of Donghyuck, too tired to roll over and opting to just rest on his sweaty chest.

“I think that was way better than sleeping.” He says, his chest rumbling underneath you as he speaks.

“What a good way to tire ourselves out.” You yawn.

In the last few moments before your tired bodies fall asleep, you find Donghyuck’s hand and intertwine your fingers together, happily and contently falling asleep with the fresh air coming through the window and the sunlight now fully streaming into the room.

In the late summer before your and Donghyuck’s last year of university, you attend a wedding. Not just any wedding: Yuqi and Lucas’ wedding.

Although the ceremony is held outside, there’s a nice breeze that keeps the guests from getting too hot and sweaty in the summer sun. The whole wedding is held in a botanical garden and the place is decorated in white and purple, lilacs and daisies filling vases everywhere you go and freshening the air with their scent.

You and Donghyuck walk into the room inside the administrative building that’s designated for the bride. Yuqi is there, her face shining brightly with happiness and a glow that can’t be stolen from her today.

When you walk in, you let out a sound of delight at how pretty your college friend looks in her wedding dress, taking note of the chamomile flowers that adorn her hairpiece.

“Ah, I can’t believe you’re here.” She all but shrieks, embracing you tightly with her small bouquet still in her hands. After she gives Donghyuck a small, welcoming hug, she backs away to look at both of you.

“You look amazing today, I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. Congratulations.” You say sincerely.

“I can’t believe it either, actually. I feel like we’ve been planning this for forever, and now the day is finally here.” She recalls, a blissful look in her eyes even though you’re aware of how much stress she has had during the past few months over this one day.

“Are you nervous?” Donghyuck asks and you nudge his side and send him a look for asking a question like that.

“No, I’m not,” Yuqi laughs, “I feel one hundred percent happy. Like I’m starting the next part of my life with the one I love.”

“I’m glad you can spend the rest of your life with your soulmate, you’re definitely luckier than most.” You muse, and she suddenly softens her expression and takes your hand in hers, gently holding onto you.

“I’m not marrying my soulmate. I’m marrying the one I love. It just happens to be the same person.”

After bidding your farewells and good lucks, you and Donghyuck walk out of the room and head to where the ceremony will be held. He pulls out of sunglasses, propping them on the edge of his nose, and then grabbing your hand and strolling through the exhibits on the way to the ceremony grounds.

Yuqi’s words ring in your head throughout the peaceful walk, specifically how happy she looked to be marrying the one she loves. Somehow, you never thought about separating soulmate from lover; those two people have always been one in your head. You always thought that there can’t be a soulmate without a lover, and there can’t be a lover without a soulmate.

But the moment with Yuqi reminded you of the first time Donghyuck properly confessed to you, the words you can still hear floating through your head whenever your mind wanders off and thinks about him.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Maybe Donghyuck has been wiser than you this whole time. Not that you’d ever admit that to his face, unless you’d like to hear about it at least three times a week for the rest of your life.

Every memory— every year that has passed by with Donghyuck has only grown the idea of soulmate and lover further apart in your mind, and it took the matrimony of your close friends to realize it. You don’t think it’s a bad thing; in fact, you’re lucky that you can call your lover and your soulmate the same person.

You feel something tugging at your hand, and when you look over at your lover, he looks at you expectedly.

“Huh?” You say, dumbfounded since you’ve been in your own little world for who knows how long. Donghyuck laughs, bending over a bit at the funny, bewildered look on your face before straightening up and looking over to you again.

“I said, what colors should we do for our wedding? I personally think I look good in red, but I’m sure we can figure out something less contrasting.” He explains nonchalantly, you realize he’s kicking a random pebble around as you walk. Looking around, confused out of your mind, you turn back to him.

“Are we getting married?”

“Well, yeah,” He does something between a laugh and a scoff before leaning next to you, a serious look that permeates through the shade of his sunglasses, “You do want to marry me, right?”

Your brain is in a complete fritz. If you had a whole day to think about this you could maybe make up a sentence that resembles a sophisticated answer, but you can only shrug.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” Donghyuck stops walking, “I just asked you if you want to get married, and you reply with ‘uh, yeah, I guess.’” He mocks your tone and it makes you roll your eyes at him.

“This is the first time we’ve ever talked about this and I got nervous.” You explain, making him relax and stand in front of you with his hands leisurely resting in his pockets. “Of course, someday I would like to marry you. I guess you’re… tolerable.” Donghyuck pushes you away from him and quickly walks down the path, twice as fast as he was walking before. You laugh and follow him, running slightly to catch up.

“Excuse me, Miss, would you like to leave a wish for the happy couple?” A sudden voice stops you, making you turn back around. A man stands with a camera, looking at you expectedly.

“Uh, how?” You look from the camera and back up to him.

“I’ll take your picture. You can write a wish on it and hang it up over there.” He points to the dozens of polaroids already hung up a few feet away, random people posing in the photographs with different color writing on every picture.

“Let’s do it.” Donghyuck comes up behind you, no doubt catching the last part of what the photographer said and pushing you lightly over to where there’s better lighting while taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt. The photographer asks you to pose, and you and Donghyuck smile for the camera, your eyes slightly shut due to the sun beating down on top of you.

“Great, how about one more for yourselves?” The photographer asks as he waits for the photograph to develop and you agree. This time, Donghyuck wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer so that your back is against his chest. You feel him rest his cheek on your head and drape his other arm around your front. You grab onto his forearm, not knowing what to do with your hands, and then suddenly the picture is taken and the photographer hands over both of the developed photos.

You take the second picture out of Donghyuck’s hands, not being able to look away. The sun seems to hit both of you just right, and the slight candidness of the photo adds another layer of reality to the picture. Donghyuck has a small smile while his cheek is slightly squished against your head, but he still looks as handsome as ever.

“What wish should we leave them?” He asks, picking up a golden sharpie from the table nearby, somehow already having his sunglasses back on.

“Maybe just… Congratulations on getting married?” You suggest.

“And a million other people will have the same thing. We need to be memorable.” He stresses and taps the end of the sharpie against his head. “What do you wish for Lucas and Yuqi?”

“I wish…” You think about it for a moment, “For them to have a lifetime of memories that they can share until the very end.” You nod.

“Oh?” Donghyuck looks at you, “When did you become a poet?” He asks as he writes that down at the bottom of the first picture.

“I’ve always been like this. I’m glad you just now figured it out.” You reply sarcastically, to which Donghyuck replies back with his own sarcastic laugh. He hangs up your picture close to where Mark and Xiaojun hung up their’s, and then turns back around.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” He pushes up his sunglasses with his ring finger and thumb, walking with swagger towards the ceremony and grabbing your hand while he’s passing by.

“If you’re going to be like this at our wedding, maybe I’ll have to change my mind…”

For one today being one of the most awaited days of your life, it started out pretty regularly.

You wake up from the ringing of your alarm, get ready, and go to your classes for the day. You had breakfast before you left, and lunch right before your last class of the day. Even work was boring as usual, but nothing beat going to the store afterwards.

When you got to the aisle filled with shoes, you were first puzzled by how many options there are. So many colors and styles, you didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed and accidentally spent almost an hour just looking at every individual pair. This had to be perfect. This was going to be a memory that you thought about for the rest of your life.

You call Donghyuck when you approach your front door, he answers almost immediately.

“Hey, love, what’s up?” He yawns through the words, and you can’t help but smile as you look down at the bag in your hands.

“Oh, I was just wondering when you’ll be home.” You open the front door and shut it behind you, taking off your shoes.

“I’m right outside of our building. Did you just get home?” He asks, no doubt hearing the front door from your side of the line.

“I’ll talk to you when you get up here then, see you.” You send a kiss through the phone and abruptly end the call. If Donghyuck is right outside of the building he’ll be up to your apartment in just a few minutes.

You drop the rest of your things down at the front door and hurry into the kitchen, setting down the small white bag with a lace bow on top in the middle of the kitchen table, clearing the table of anything else. You slide into a seat at the table, fixing your clothes nervously as you hear the front door open. Not even a few seconds later, Donghyuck walks into the kitchen, his eyes moving from you to the white bag and back to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, dead serious. Your nerves and anxiety, and maybe even some fear, must be strong enough for him to feel. You shake your head and pat the chair next to you. Donghyuck takes a seat, he came through the door so quickly that he didn’t even take his shoes or his jacket off yet.

“Open the bag.” You can’t help the excited smile and small clap of your hands as he reaches out and holds the bag. He gives you a quizzical look, but you only nod to encourage him.

Donghyuck unties the lace ribbon, looking down into the bag for a few moments. You can’t read his face and you can’t feel any emotions from him, and your anxiety grows tenfold. He reaches in and pulls out the little shoes, a light blue color with white stitching. They’re so small, they can sit in Donghuck’s hand perfectly.

“What are these?” He asks, still looking at the shoes in his hand.

“Well, they’re shoes… For babies. For our baby.”

At your reply, he does nothing. He doesn’t react at all, which only worsens your nerves and makes your leg twitch up and down as you wait for him to say something. He swallows and sets the shoes on the table, still looking at then with a blank expression.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah…” You reply, reaching out to put a hand over Donghyuck’s, “Say something.”

“I’m not sure what to say, this is very… sudden.” He tilts his head. Your stomach drops at the lack of emotion in his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not this stoic expression in his face. Whatever traces of a smile that you had on your lips vanishes and you grip his hand tighter.

“I know this is not what we had planned. I know this is kind of… not good timing, since we’re still in school and not married, yet. But this is what fate had planned for us, I guess?” You’re not sure if you’re trying to console him or convince him, but the icky feeling in your stomach tells you Donghyuck’s reaction to the situation is not good.

“Yeah, fate did us real good.” Donghyuck replies sarcastically and you drop your hands from his, resting them in your lap. You can see the tears forming in his eyes even when he tries to look away from you, and you can feel the fear that’s boiling and overflowing inside him.

“I know you’re scared, I’m scared too. But we can get through this to—” You’re suddenly cut off by Donghyuck standing up abruptly.

“I’m not scared. I’m worried.” He rubs his face with his hands. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to support this kid. I’m worried I won’t be able to be here for you through it all. I’m so worried I’m going to end up like my father that I feel like it’s going to eat me alive.” He runs his hands through his hair, pulling his head back as he looks at the ceiling and paces around the kitchen.

“I never knew your father, but from what you told me, you’re nothing like him.” You stand up too, your legs feeling like jello.

“No, you don’t understand. What if I say something wrong and ruin this kid’s life like my father did to me? What if I can’t find a job after we graduate? Are you going to support all three of us? I can’t let you live like my mom did, it was too hard to watch back then and it’ll be even harder to watch now.” He suddenly stops, not giving you a chance to speak as he looks from you, to the little shoes, and back to you. “I can’t.”

“You… can’t what?” There’s panic rising in your voice as he shakes his head and backs away.

“I can’t be here, not around you or this baby. I won’t be a good father.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving you standing dumbfounded with tears brimming in your eyes. You move to the front door, watching at Donghyuck’s shaking hands pick up his keys and wallet.

“Are you leaving me? Right now?” He doesn’t look at you and he doesn’t answer, opening the door, “Wait!” You cry out. He stops, his shoulders tense and his hand clenching the doorknob.

“What about that promise you made me? Huh? You said that it’s not just a ‘you’ or a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ You said you’ll do everything you can to not hurt us.” You ask, recalling the promise Donghyuck made back when you two were young college students, and a promise he has repeated and vowed to you over and over again every time your relationship got into a rough patch.

“I think… that what I’m doing is what’s best for us. It’ll be better if I wasn’t here. ___...” He looks back at your teary eyed figure with one last look of regret, “I love you. I’m so sorry.” And with that, he closes the door, leaving you all alone in your cold and dark apartment.

You jumped off of the bridge. You jumped off a while ago, actually, but the fall took longer than you expected. You thought Donghyuck would be there to catch you at the bottom, but he’s nowhere to be seen now. The fall was peaceful and enjoyable, a soft limbo between making the hardest decision in your life and the ultimate consequence of that decision. The fall was long and made you feel faux comfort, so when you reached the very end, it ended up hurting a lot worse. You knew jumping off of a bridge would kill you, so why did you jump?

You’re not sure how long you stand by the front door, but it’s long enough that the sun sets outside and the room turns dark. You stare at the door, waiting for Donghyuck to come back. You wait for the door to open and for him to run through, hugging you and whispering that he’ll be here for you. You can only walk up to the door and slide down onto your knees, your forehead pressed against the cool wood as you wait.

Tears run down your cheeks silently, your eyes red and your head hurts. You keep your forehead pressed against the door for the whole night, waiting for him to come back. You wait, and wait, and wait. Donghyuck never comes back.

Your heart rips open from pain, it feels like it’s bleeding onto the floor in front of you. Your mind is numb from any other emotion, your body is cold from sitting on the floor, but you can’t get yourself to stand up. That’s when you realize, this is it. This is how Donghyuck hurts you.

What a sick and twisted way for fate to finally serve up her plan. You almost forgot who Donghyuck is supposed to be; the one who loves you, and the one who hurts you the most.

— read epilogue here

[mythoughtsxxblog]

I just finished Dawson's Creek again and....

I'm still feeling the same way about the ending that I did the first time I watched it. I didn't like it and honestly it should've ended with episode 22. Bare with me, this is a long one....

I already made a post addressing my feelings towards the Pacey and Joey relationship from season 4 (on reddit) and I'm sorry but I still can't get behind them being endgame. I will admit, I found them more appealing this time around than I did the previous times I watched the show (season 3 was perfect and I'll admit the Castaways episode was very endearing), but I still for the life of me don't understand the logic behind them being endgame other that it being fan service.

It felt rushed and as though the ending wasn't meant to be this way but the writers threw it together last minute and called it a day. Does this mean I want her with Dawson? Hell no. I liked them as close friends, nothing more especially after the constant back and forth fighting throughout the series. I also noticed a few things while watching, Joey is quite possibly my least favorite character by the end of the series. I didn't feel this way during my previous watches. This time around, I found her quite unbearable by the last 2 seasons and felt as though she should've ended up single at the end or at least with Eddie. Her and Eddie seemed a lot more compatible. And my annoyance with her character made me feel as though Pacey deserved better than Joey. Pacey wasn't flawless, but I just feel like he deserved better than a reignited relationship he had in high school. It also always felt like he loved Joey more than she loved him.

That leads me to this....I've said this before, and I'll say it again, Pacey's best relationship was with Andie. I'm biased and still believe they should've been together by the end but the writers thought it'd be best to destroy her character and practically laugh in Meredith Monroe's face (cutting her amazing scenes in the last episode?! Why????). Andie went to Harvard. Which is in Boston, aka where the other characters were. There was so much more potential with the character, and its quite sad they got rid of her so soon and only used her as a stepping stone for a love triangle. Her and Pacey, in my eyes, were a well-balanced and beautiful relationship. They both knew what they wanted and never gave up on one another. They helped each other in ways others couldn't.

Somebody made a great point in another post and said Pacey and Joey only ever worked out when they were isolated from everyone else (the summer boat trip, moving to NY). And it's true. Around the others it never worked and maybe it's because they weren't meant to be. I know people will disagree with me, but it's just how I feel after watching it again.

Also I'm still so damn angry about Jen. Killing off her character for the pure shock factor will forever be the biggest mistake. I don't see why else they decided to kill her off other than to shock an audience and boost ratings (was that even accomplished?). I'm so happy Michelle Williams still had the best career going forward despite suffering awful writing for 3 seasons of this show. Also Jen and Jack were soulmates and watching their beautiful friendship will forever be my favorite part of this show.

All in all, there's so much I do love about this show. It gave us two of the best fictional TV show characters in Pacey Witter and Jen Lindley. There's also so much wrong with this show, but I won't continue harping on that. I will say, I can see myself rewatching this show again in the future.

[siriusmydeer]

ooo okay so a James Potter x reader soulmate au where they feel each others pain, and she has a suspicion he's her soulmate but it's confirmed when he falls off his broom, and she hates him being her soulmate because he's in love with lily, but he says that lily doesn't matter anymore blah blah, and she says she first thought it was him when he fell of a bench in the great hall or something after confessing his love for lily in front of the entire school (1)

‘all along that they were soulmates but she tells him its really inconsiderate for being so obvious about his love for lily when he knew he had a soulmate and he feels really guilty and tries to make it up for her and yeah fluff ending please :)’

the painful soulmate

james potter x fem!reader

summary: in a world where you can feel your soulmates pain; your soulmate happens to think someone else is his soulmate

word count: 2.2k

warning: swearing, mentions of verbally abusing someone, mentions of beating people up, injuries; falling in the air, cracked ribs, tripping, face planting. joking name calling, kissing, angst, soulmate au, insinuation of unrequited love, fluff ending

by the age of 16 you and every other witch along with wizard were given a particular... gift. you wouldn’t consider it a gift, more like your worse fucking nightmare but you could squeal and pretend to be all dainty and excited about meeting your soulmate.

i mean why not give someone a choice on who they wanted to love? this wasn’t a game of spin the bottle this was forever.

being the only female in your friend group, made all the boys amongst you ridiculously pry into your privacy. wanting to know who they had to verbally torture considering they would scoop up the ‘precious little baby-girl’ of the group.

coming directly from the drama queen himself; sirius black. it’s not like they could beat up your partner because you would be able to feel his or her pain as-well.

you were sat in the marauders dorm absently playing with your fingers while looking at each of your mates, sirius and remus attempted to finish their plans on a new prank for the newest defence against the dark arts teacher, james sat at his desk table writing up ways to ask lily more dramatically than the last and peter had been figuring out his transfiguration homework from a few days prior.

“prongs, if you know she’s gonna say no, then why ask?” remus questioned not even looked at the sapphire-eyed boy. his only logic being, ‘well ill turn her no into a yes.’ as if coercion was the way to go.

the brunette sat at the table swiftly turning his head in the lyncanthropes direction, his spectacles almost falling down his nose from the quick snap of his head. “well, lily-pad has always said, ‘not in a million years!’ but that means after a million years she’d go out with me.” finishing his speech with a small grin.

the rest of the group on the other hand looked at him dumbfounded. eyebrows either scrunched or furrowed, “james m’afraid that’s not how it works.” you spoke, trying to ease his feelings as if your words could stop his incessant pining.

“well, i’ll just make it work!” turning around and continuing his list, speaking as if he was godric gryffindor coming up with the best idea of the century. “ten galleons she says no again.” sirius quickly whispers in peters direction, the dirty blonde haired boy doing a quick nod then looking back at his parchment.

“i heard that!”

the next time there was a ramble of soulmate talk, which by the way you were getting exhausted from. why did everyone have to have a soulmate? why couldn’t you pick from your own free will? it’s not even like you could have a bloody crush because there was already someone supposedly out there for you!

one free period, ONE! and it’s spent over peter narrowing down his options on all the gryffindor girls he might be paired with. “it’s definitely not marls, peter.” sirius’ pearl irises glanced at peter than over to remus who was trying to teach you how to play wizards chess.

“moony, not to be offensive, but this game sucks arse.” you shrugged, glaring at your queen piece that looked like it wanted to yell at you. as you were twisting around the wood of your pieces, james got up from the bench catching a glimpse of red among the ravenclaw students. instead tripping on the stone of the bench and face planting into the freshly cut grass.

you felt a soreness at the fronts of your calves and an immense discomfort on your face. you grimaced while rubbing your knees trying to soothe the random shoot of exertion through your veins to the point where you almost had the urge to groan.

james quickly scrambled to his feet trying to brush out his hair that had sprinkles of green all over the front, you completely ignored the fact that james’ fall broken by the stone of the bench had caused you to have a twinge of pain into your system.

“none of you saw that.” he panted with slight embarrassment, directing his message to sirius who had his hand clenched into a fist over his lips attempting to cover up the small chortles that were threatening to escape his lips.

“don’t worry, we saw nothing.” you confirmed with an amused grin, putting your two fingers over your lips like a seal.

he grinned back at you twice as hard, your heart starting more of an upbeat frequency that you started to notice as he sat beside you moving a piece that could ruin remus’ chance at winning.

“you slimy git! you’re helping her cheat, you little slag!” remus whined, trying to analyze the board again.

after your recovery, from absolutely nothing. you were sprawled on the scarlet-couch waiting for the rest of your friends to come back from detention. you dazed into a book remus had recently given to you, an icepack laying on your foot as you were almost hypnotized by the pride and prejudice book in your hands.

“oi, m’lady!” sirius abruptly shouted while returning to his common room. you jumped from the stentorian voice, that sunk into the now not-solemn and peaceful common room.

you turned your head seeing the bespectacled boy limp onto the other vermillion couch and rest his leg onto the plush of the pillow, meanwhile, the fawn and dirty blonde haired boys sat in the gryffindor-red love seats tired from their detention.

“what’s wrong with him?” you asked, referring to james’ leg that was propped under the pillow.

“we don’t know, we were walking and he just picked up his foot in agony. who knows maybe lily stubbed her toe.” sirius amused to the rest of the group. but your eyes widened in concern, but you had— there’s absolutely and completely no way. more than one person can stub their toe in one day, not just— just one person.

almost like you were in a daze or hypnotized, as stealth as possible you grabbed the maroon coloured blanket that was rested on the arm rest of the couch you spread it over your legs covering the foot; that you had injured previously that day.

what the fuck. no seriously, what the fuck. there wasn’t— there couldn’t even be— that wouldn’t work. it’s not possible. the butterflies, the flushed face, the nervous ticks— fuck.

over the course of the next few days, you were very careful. you could’ve been mary friggin’ poppins i mean you didn’t want him to get suspicious if you were both injured at the same time. you also did not want to know if he— the boy pining over lily fucking evans since first year was possibly— no there’s no way.

the following week there was a slytherin and gryffindor quidditch game. which also happened to be incredibly nerve wracking not only for you but between both houses, as much as slytherin wanted to seem nonchalant there act was simply not going to work. this determined who would be playing in the quidditch house cup, slytherins also happened to not play the fairest in quidditch so extra gryffindor training was keen.

well now that following week, was today. the game was fine, great even. gryffindor was in the lead and james was about to score a quaffle in the hoop, that was until slytherin beater decided to bat a bludger right into james torso causing him to collapse off his broom twenty five feet into the air with nothing to break his fall. at the reflect of the bludger on james ribs you already groaned hunched over into your seat catches the attention of both peter and sirius.

dumbledore did all the spells he could in such a swiftly manner before james skidded on the muddy grass of the pitch. by then you couldn’t even hold in the moans and groans from his affliction with the hard iron bludger and the fall from the air.

both peter and sirius’ eyes widened and shared a look before taking concern to your arching figure. “m’god i didn’t think it hurt that bad!” you groaned into your hands that could almost be seen as trembling from the agony that you were in as james’ team mates brought him down to the infirmary to check for injuries which he did in-fact have.

after sirius had brought you to your dorm, attempting to do a spell to rid you of most-but not all of your pain he raced to healers wing, seeing james on the verge of unconsciousness as madam pomfrey tried to whip up a potion in a fast manner to heal the boy.

i guess it was true— james was your soulmate. your soulmate in love with another woman that is.

a few hours later james was ordered to stay the night for observation, while both sirius and peter decided to catch up remus along with james up on the other ‘things’ more, or less, that occurred during the quidditch match.

him, and lily.... weren’t soulmates? he thought maybe one day they would’ve ended up together, at some point. not his very best friend being the one he’s ‘destined’ with. but he was desperate to speak with you, how did you know? did you even know? how bad did it hurt? he had so many questions scattered around his brain, until he saw your face that was close to a grimace from pain.

“hi.” you whispered, catching his attention.

“hey.” he whispered back hoarsely, gulping at the sudden tension in the room.

“so we’re—“ “you’re my—“ you both spoke at the same time, following an humourless more-so nervous chuckle, from the both of you.

“how long— did you even know?” james started, looking at your figure as if you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

you sat down nervously, cracking your knuckles as you were unsure where to start. “i thought— i started wondering, that day me and rem were playing chess and you fell.” you cleared your throat while speaking, avoiding eye contact entirely. “my knees started to hurt, but i didn’t even notice it. the day that you came into the common room limping, was when i suspected it.” you wrung your fingers together nervously, then looking into his irises.

“you knew? why didn’t you—“ his anger already starting to get the best of him, you knew that you were his soulmate. you were right in-front of him, but you never told him; he almost felt betrayed.

“i didn’t know! only suspected. but you have to understand, james. you were incessantly pinning after lily, you claimed you were ‘in love with her’. you’re making it seem like it was gonna be so easy for me to tell you that ‘guess what, james! the girl you love actually isn’t your soulmate and it’s your best friend you have no interest in!’ prongs, m’fraud s’not that easy.” you mocked, proving your correct argument to him based on his actions.

he took a shaky breath, analyzing basically his whole life in-front of him. even though he might’ve ‘loved’ lily, you were still more important to him. soulmate or not, he would always go to you first. he could barely stand to fight with you, he couldn’t loose you over some silly crush that he had.

“it doesn’t matter— lily— she doesn’t matter. y/n it’s you, soulmate, not soulmate, who cares! lily or not lily, you’ve always been my go-to, my number one, i mean you’ve always been the most important!” he said drastically while punctuating his words, and flailing his arms in the air to prove his point to you.

you sighed looking at him, almost unsure of his words. he looked at you expectantly before speaking again, “i’ll get on my knees right now and beg to you. with broken— well now bruised but priory broken ribs. not to mention my stubbed toe.” he chuckled at last second trying to humour you.

“oh my g— get up!” you snickered at him, james potter was on his knees fighting all the pride in his system right in-front of you where you were sat. his hands grasped both sides of your thighs trying to soothe you into you forgiving him.

at the sight of him right infront of you, with the best sirius black puppy dog eyes he could muster with a pouted lip you immediately gave in. “fine.” you sighed, “fine, fine, fine.” you giggled.

both of his hands encasing your cheeks, a small pout on your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his elbows resting on your thighs. you looked at him pretending to ponder off in thought; shrugging while you spoke, “hmmm, maybe. i gues—“ he quickly cut you off, kissing your pouted lips in the middle of a sentence.

you kissed back, holding his face between your agile fingers. your right hand resting on his squared jaw and the other in his fluffy and borderline-sweaty hair. your lips slotting together, he could feel the mint taste from the gum you have chewed earlier bleed onto his tastebuds; you on the other hand, not such a memorable taste.

you quickly pulled away, a dramatic whine escaping from his throat. “you remember when you face planted into the dirt earlier?” you giggled while asking him. he looked at you confused; why would... you... be asking if he remembered himself falling?

“erm, yeah i can recall.”

“yeah your mouth tastes like dirt.”

taglist: @fathermarty @kittykylax @ronweasleyluvr @aspiringsloth20 @dear-luna @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

if your username is crossed out that means you gave me the wrong username or your settings for public display tags are off!

[eremiie]

broken promises

❥ angst | 3.9k words | eren x armin

❥ content: none. just pure heart break.

❥ the moment you’re born your soulmates words are etched into your skin, and the moment you meet them they disappear just as fast. so when eren meets armin why don’t his words go? and why does armin have to carry the weight of a wretched life on his shoulders? surely his fate is his fault.

this fic is a rendition of chapter 139! read at your own risk

this fic is for @mikaberries 4k collab event! my word was ‘broken promises’ and my ship was eremin! enjoy<3

ty to @arlerted for beta reading this fic!

"hey, why don't you put up a fight?"

those were the first words muttered to him.

"you're wrong! i'm not losing because i don't run."

those were the first words that made the black mark sprawled on eren's wrist begin to fade away, seeping from the tan skin and sprawling like dust onto the concrete he stood on.

the first words that made the blue of armin's eyes dazzle with interest, peering over his shoulder almost tumbling over to get a fresh look at what was holding eren's interest so well.

he knew what was holding eren's interest, he's seen it before with so many people close to him, he's heard stories from his grandparents. it couldn't be happening to him though? happening so soon? i mean he was just a kid, he—

"you're my soulmate..."

so if eren was his soulmate, why didn't the words disappear?

so if eren was his soulmate, why didn't the words disappear?

so if eren was his soulmate, why didn't the words disappear?

why were his first words to him not the ones scribbled on his skin?

nevertheless, armin wanted to grasp any hope presented to him. if eren was his soulmate he'd try his best to believe him. surely it was just a glitch in the system, maybe a phenomenon never discovered. but even then it didn't matter, because how eren's eyes gleamed at his bare wrist, eyes flicking from armin to his arm, to armin, it was all the confirmation armin needed.

still, on sleepless nights, when only the moonlight would beam through the window of the barracks leaving enough light for armin to peer down at the bare skin of eren's wrist and the words i promise on his own, he couldn't help but wonder if eren was really his.

his pale hand engulfs with eren's as eren drapes his arm over armin's waist. it was so welcoming. that same hand wraps him in blankets, it cups the soft skin of armin's cheek, it adjusts armin's ODM gear, it was the hand that armin, just by the way it moves so lovingly, would've suspected belongs to his soulmate.

it couldn't have been a mistake, mistakes with things like this just didn’t happen.

"i'm yours." eren's voice would grumble against the nape of armin's neck, breath fanning over the new goosebumps formed, and hand squeezing armin's a little tighter.

armin's breath hitches, swallowing his spit before adjusting himself until he was facing eren.

his eyes were so beautiful in the dim light. armin could admire every speck of blue that would dance across the green canvas, every slight glimmer of gold that reminds armin of eren's mother. it reminds him of the same glimmer that dropped onto the cold concrete when eren was deemed his.

eren blinks, once or twice, armin can't remember because his mind drifts farther than he wants, and untangles their hands, bringing one up to armin's cheek.

it's wet, a fresh tear falling from the corner of armin's eye that eren brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

when armin leans back to give eren a one over, he doesn't remember when eren’s hair got longer, when his eyes became so dull, or when his smile became a permanent pout.

his soulmate isn't supposed to be his and he lets the thought pull him away from reality more often than not. no matter how many times eren could repeat how they were meant to be it would never feel right.

there was a barrier in between them that kept armin farther away from eren than he wanted to be. a barrier that armin pounded against, aching to break and release him from the solemn thoughts that clouded his brain.

when eren wipes another tear that shines against armin's cheek, he pushes forward on the bed, pressing his forehead against armin's and closing his eyes so armin can't see them anymore.

the simple touch, the simple gesture brings armin back to reality and he can feel that familiar longing in the pit of his stomach, the furrow in eren's brow, and the newfound wetness of his cheek.

he doesn't mean to press his forehead so hard against eren's, but the closer he is to him, the more he can feel the warmth of eren's skin. he can silence the storm inside of him. maybe if he tries hard enough and sticks close to eren that barrier would break, at least crack.

eren's palm brings armin as close as possible by the back of his head until he can feel armin breathing on his chin. armin could tell eren that he wasn't meant for him over and over again, but there was no mark on his wrist anymore, no sign that screamed armin wasn't his in his eyes. as long as his skin was a clean slate, as long as he could spend restless nights with his lover, days laying in each other's arm's under the tree as they stared at the wall longing for freedom, armin belonged to him.

"will you still be mine when you leave for marley?" he cuddles closer to eren, hands sat against his lover’s chest as he takes pleasure in his presence.

eren reluctantly nods his head and presses armin closer, a soft press of his lips to armin's nose.

"i'll still be yours."

"and you'll—"

"i'll still be yours. until we see the rest of the world together; the flaming water, frozen plains, and snowfields of sand."

armin stifles noise and sinks down from where he was against eren’s forehead until his head is in the fabric of eren's shirt, hands grabbing at the cotton so tight that eren's afraid he might tear it.

eren's shirt is getting wet but he doesn't mind. he wants to cry too.

instead, he lets his thumb smooth over the same strands of blonde hair he plaits while sitting in a field of campanulas, and lets his hand lightly ruffle the tresses he watches armin toy with, contemplating if he should cut them or not.

the next time he sees armin they're cut.

the next time armin sees eren, his eyes are duller than that night they were tangled in each other's arms.

armin barely says a word to eren on the airship, there was nothing to be said. nothing to be said when sasha died, her blood staining the wood of the ship. nothing to be said after the conversation at the table, armin's blood being wiped away by the damp cloth in mikasa's hand.

he never had a voice like eren, but when he screams at him on the floor where he sits around shards of broken glass and spilled wine as mikasa tries to get him to stand, he uses eren's own voice against him— words so passionate and spat like venom at eren that he has no choice but to turn around for a mere second.

someone who could kill so plainly and drag his loved ones along, not shedding a single tear as he goes, didn't seem like the soulmate set for armin.

but the way eren turns around, a snarl on his face that juxtaposes the gloss of a limpid tear in his eye— for a second, just for a second armin thinks otherwise.

and when he looks down at his wrist, "i promise." still haunting him, he wishes the world was kind.

ᝰ

armin slams the door behind himself, leaving mikasa alone in the gloomy storage room.

it was his fault a darkened cloud was hanging over the room, his outburst at mikasa wasn't her fault— but how could she even think about eren with all the peril happening?

his breathing is heavy and the sounds of titans are right next to his ears, pounding and stomping their way across the ocean, across the world. it was so noisy, the screams outside, people running from falling debris. he wishes the noise would cease for only a moment so he could gather his thoughts.

armin wipes at his eyes in hopes that it would stop the way his vision begins to blur. he stumbles backward using his free hand to steady himself once he hits the brick wall behind him.

truth being, no matter how little the thought was he was thinking about eren too.

he pulls at his sleeve to further hide his wrist, teeth-gritting as he fails to hold back tears that slip from his eyes and onto the floor he stood on. they decorate the stone floors in lovely splotches, darkening the grey and creating spots that'd disappear with time. but, as long as armin kept crying the least likely the evidence would simply "disappear".

"i'm tired." his voice cracks and like a broken dam tears begin to flow free, sliding down his cheeks as his skin begins to flush. he knows he can't stop them now. he can't stop the thoughts in his head or the tears staining his cheeks. he wishes to relax and be at the ocean again, staring across the waves where he finally got a taste of what freedom was before it was snatched away again. "i hate this."

no matter how hard he wipes at them, they're never-ending. why does he have to be the boy whocries? who can't defend himself, the boy with the burden placed on him, the boy with no soulmate. "i hate this, i hate this."

his knees buckle and he allows himself to slide down the wall, ODM gear clinking as it hits the floor, the wall rough as it scrapes against the material of his shirt. it's easier to block out the cries of terror outside and instead bury himself in his hands to cry for someone to release him from this stress.

he's tired of the wrenching in his heart, thoughts being solely on the one he thought was destined for him. no matter how hard he tries to think of what was most important his mind can't help but wander back to calm nights with eren. what could've been and what he wished became.

how did he fall in love with someone so wretched? and how did they make him so wretched?

his sniffles are the only thing he can hear and his tears decorate the sleeves of his shirt— just like he decorated eren's the last night his arms cradled him close.

"i hate you. i hate that we have to kill you— you're," a sob breaks his sentence, but he's thankful for it because he didn't want to finish it anyway. the next words to come out wouldn't have been true. they would've just been a fit of anger and sadness that clawed at his heart, twisting it between its grasp and trying its best to break the little hope armin had left.

"we have to kill you." is what he says instead.

what was he doing? there was no time to sob, no time to cry over someone like eren. he would heed the words he told mikasa— there was no time to think about eren, he was a lost cause.

armin unsteadily picks himself off the ground, adjusting the gear around his waist and using the back of his hand to wipe stray tears. he's lucky no one came through or went out the doors— it would've just been another open performance of his weakness and it'd be proof that erwin was the one who should've been chosen that day.

he would let eren go and he would do what he had to do to save the people around him, it was the least he could do after erwin's death.

ᝰ

when his titan is standing in front of eren's colossal titan those words mean nothing.

it's the adrenaline that tames the pull on his heart. he's so close yet so far— his soulmate, no eren, is right there but here he was doing all he could to stop him.

there's no time to relish in the past, although it flashes in the back of his head. loose memories of what eren was and the monster he’s become.

he wants to remember eren's rough palms against his cheeks again, his natural warmth he radiates while he pulls armin close as possible. but he pushes the memories to the back of his head— they were nothing but an echo now.

he has to give it his all because he's sure eren isn't thinking the same way as him.

the mosaic of him holds pieces of eren in it and it was evident by the flicker of eren's passion in his eyes when he stares him down, fists raised and only a murmur of "why did it turn out this way?" leaving trembling lips.

when he throws a heavy arm at eren it's like it all happens in slow motion; first, a pounding in his skull, causing him to close his eyes at the twinge, then a burst of light flashing over his eyes, and albeit how they stayed close a blanket of white drops over his vision.

he loses his balance and wonders if eren has knocked him out yet, until he lands on a hard surface. the pale sand is grainy under his hands and for some reason, his mind is blank. the soft whirring of what sounded like wind whips past his ears. he's calm.

armin flutters doe eyes open, adjusting to the brightness of the light in front of him. it was oddly familiar. purples, blues, and greens surrounded the striking light— and the longer he stares forth, the more it reminds armin of a tree whose branches reach for the sky. he's mesmerized. this must be what space is— stars adorning the black mural, as rays of colorful light burst over the top of armin like pops of fire being sent into the sky.

it's beautiful, and armin's reminded of earth, of the comfort of life— even in the walls. maybe this was what he believed was on the other side of the walls when he was younger, and if he sat in front of his younger self and explained the sight in front of him, telling him this is what was out there, he was sure he would've believed it.

"armin."

the blonde whips his head around, meeting a face his memories know so well.

eren's skin is illuminated by the light of paths, a gleam in such familiar green eyes that he only ever thought he'd see in his dreams. his hands are pocketed and his hair is free, laying gently against the side of his face. bags pull at the skin below his eyes and a tired smile graces his face as he puts a hand out for armin to grab.

armin wants to grab it but he recoils, scrambling to stand up on his own and dusting the sand from his hands. his eyebrows are furrowed and he's scowling at eren as he crosses his arms.

he doesn't know what to say— he doesn't know where he is. he's still mad at eren, he can't just take him to a dream-like place and think everything is okay. he's killed so many people, he's dragged his friends into what could only be described as hell, and eren didn't know the toll he put on armin's life. he couldn't just waltz into it, destroy everything, and expect armin to just talk to him again.

armin seems to always be too caught up in his thoughts because when eren's palm– that's still as warm as he remembers– presses him to eren's chest it takes him a moment too long to realize. the ends of eren's hair that graze armin's nose is something he'd never thought he'd feel again.

eren shouldn't be hugging him, but he can't push him off— it hurts.

it hurts when eren's stray tears hit the top of his head and it hurts when eren clings to armin like he'll disappear if he lets go. the cries of "i'm sorry," are all armin can hear as eren sinks to the floor in front of him, weeping tears of agony and years of pain that he was never able to share.

eren knows he caused everyone pain, and he knows what he's done is unforgivable, and although he's caused everyone so many tears, eren needs to be the boy who cries this time.

armin shudders, impending sobs trying to wrack his body. his hand cups his mouth as he drops to his feet as well. when eren glances up at him with woeful eyes, he can paint a picture with those blue flecks and glimmers of gold that he finally gets to see again. he sighs shakily and turns his head away from eren in fear of the tears he was trying to blink back from falling.

armin lets eren explain himself.

he lets eren reduce him to a complete sobbing mess. all these months of asking himself why was all summed up to him, the only question being left unanswered being why he still had words slapped across his wrist. he doesn't dare to ask about it— he's sure he already knows the answer.

"so... you're going to die?" armin asks hesitantly, scrunching particles of sand in between his hands.

"i have to. i have to atone somehow."

it's the words armin knows would slip from eren's mouth but not the words armin wants to hear. leaning forward he places his hands on eren's shoulders, a pleading look across the ocean that was his eyes. at least that's how eren would describe it.

"but maybe there's a way we can fix this!"

eren gives armin a small smile, placing his hands over armin's so gently. "armin... you think i'll be free like you once all this is over?"

armin's pleading expression fades and is replaced by a dejected one, his lips falling and his eyebrows turning upwards. "eren..."

eren pulls armin close to him, hand in his hair once more, tangling through the blonde strands and burying his nose into them. they smell just how he remembered, even with how short his hair was now— like fresh linen and the smell of the ocean that lingers even after only one visit.

"eren," his eyes screw as he bawls into eren's shoulder while wrapping his arms around him. "but you promised."

armin pulls away just as fast when the thought hits him. he grabs eren's wrist and pulls it from his hair. "you promised! you said we'd see the flaming water... the... the frozen plains and the snowfields of sand! you promised!"

eren shakes his head profusely, more tears being shed as his hands come up to cup armin's own wet face.

armin's vision is obscured by his own tears and he rests his head in the palm of eren's head, indulging in the feeling because he won't get to feel it again.

he'll remember the intimacy he shared with eren from hearing his heartbeat in his ears as he laid against his chest to tracing the skin of eren's arm to lull himself to sleep. it wasn't fair that it had to be like this. that it had to be a mere reflection of what was, but it was his fault for being so gullible.

from the day he was still left with such a taunting mark he should've known that if his mark was still etched on his wrist, eren being his soulmate wasn't tangible. he should've left well enough alone and accepted his fate, met his soulmate years from that day and lived the life he was meant to live.

maybe then he wouldn't be stuck in what was a cruel form of torture, a life that lead to show him his karma of being so greedy— of trying to hold onto whatever was sent his way. he wasn't even supposed to be here right now.

yet, here he was, eren pressing his lips to armin's forehead, both of his cheeks, his nose and then a last tender one to his lips. although armin struggles to reciprocate them, eren can understand that they were received.

"you go, and you see all of those things without me because even when i'm not here the freedom you're granted is proof of me."

shaky hands reach to place themselves over eren's. "you promised."

"i'm sorry."

"eren, you—"

"i'm sorry."

to armin, it was confirmation that him and eren weren't meant to be. soulmates just weren't like this. he wouldn't have his mark, there wouldn't be so much hurt, and the promise eren shared with him would've been fulfilled.

armin refused to believe that his soulmate is eren.

he couldn't wonder who would come after eren when someone like eren existed. he couldn't fathom who else would put their life on the line like eren did not only for him but for everyone around him. who else would fight like eren did, all for selfless reasons.

whoever was eren’s true soulmate has to be the saddest yet happiest person on earth, to have a destined one like eren yet never be able to acknowledge him.

he'd come to terms with eren's fate, and he'd move on— after all what he thought was his fate was never meant to be.

eren pulls armin to a standing position and using the sleeve of his coat he wipes both him and armin's faces.

"i love you."

armin takes in eren's features, noting them down so he'd be able to remember them forever— even after he's gone.

"i love you too."

stepping forward, eren takes armin's hand in his own. "i'll be with you every step you take away from those walls and i'll be with you everywhere you visit."

it's hard to hear, but armin still manages to nod his head.

"i promise."

eren and everything around him begins to fade. he's trying to piece him together in his mind— create a solid memory to cherish forever.

the world around him fades and he's back on a sad dirt ground, palms stabling him as he begins to get up, mikasa walking towards him with the remnants of eren in her hands.

when he reaches for eren's head, it's only then he notices the words that his eyes used to linger back to every few hours are gone.

armin didn't realize when the words on his arm began to faintly glow and bleed because at the same time he was picking pieces of eren up and placing them together to create a firm picture that he wouldn't forget.

pale skin was the only thing left in its path— and when his eyes flit back to eren he sees his soulmate. for the first time he's sure of it.

“paths...” armin mutters to himself as his hand smooths over the cooling skin of eren’s face.

this eren existed in paths where time is nonlinear— speaking armin words for what could have been the first as long as he continued to reside in them. “he said it in paths…” he says shakily, and he winces at his own voice.

time wasn’t linear in such a void, and eren had spoken the short sentence on his wrist into existence long before armin knew.

eren was his soulmate.

his soulmate who he was supposed to see the world with; flaming water, frozen plains, and snowfields of sand.

his soulmate who set him free yet he'd rather be chained to for the rest of his life if it meant he could wake up with him everyday.

his soulmate who he doubted so heavily, transfixed on two words that plagued his whole being.

his soulmate who didn't even know broke his heart, broke their promise.

"you promised."

[gojo-x-reader]

Not So Special Now

Relationship(s): F!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Warnings: canon-typical violence

Tags: fluff (at the end), reader-focused

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~4k

Request: “hello there, i love ur soulmate and marriage life hc 🥺 can you make scenario/hc/drabble whatever u prefer where his fem/gn so is also a sorcerer and gets hurt/injured on a mission? thank you!”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Your boyfriend, Satoru, asked you. His hands were on your biceps, giving it a worried, yet comforting squeeze.

“Yes, Satoru,” you answered, a little annoyed at how he was treating you. It’s been several years since either of you were in high school; this wasn’t your first mission.

“I can’t help but worry, you know. It’s your first ever special grade assignment.”

“Just because I’m not the same rank as you, Mr. Special Grade, doesn’t mean I’m weak. Besides, there are two others going so I’m not doing this alone.”

“I know, I know.” Satoru pressed his lips gently onto your forehead, then gazed into your eyes lovingly. In a rare instance while on the job, his blindfold was replaced with dark sunglasses. You reached up to shift them down, allowing you to gaze into his bright blue eyes. They were breathtaking no matter how many times you saw them. You moved your hands from his glasses to his shoulders, forcing him down so you could reach up to leave a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you promised.

The two of you embraced one more time before you joined your other group members for the mission. You turned back and waved at him as the three of you entered the car to be driven to the location for your mission.

“Sure wish Gojo-san was coming with us,” one of them mused. “He could handle this mission single-handedly and we could just stay home.” He sighed deeply, then put in headphones and stared out the window.

“Why isn’t he taking this mission?” your other group member asked. She stared at you, eager to know.

You had just met these two today (not even knowing their names, except that they were both Grade 1 sorcerers like you) and you weren’t sure how well this mission would go. “Well,” you began, “for one, he works best alone. Second, Satoru fights best when he’s away from civilians.” 

The girl hummed, then crossed her arms in thought. The three of you awkwardly rode in silence for about five minutes, before the girl grabbed your arm suddenly. “Soooo, how long have you been dating Gojo Satoru?” She asked eagerly. There was something about her that seemed familiar, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

You weren’t sure why this was any business of someone you just met, but you decided to indulge her to hopefully make this awkward car ride, well, less awkward.

“Two years, almost three,” you answered. The two of you had known each other since high school, but it wasn’t until almost four years ago that you had reconnected after you moved back to Tokyo, and almost three years ago when you started dating. To this day you still had no clue why he would get a crush on you over all people. There were much prettier girls he had spent more time with, why you?

“Annnnd? A ring soon?” She gushed, gripping your arm harder.

You shrugged. Satoru and you had discussed marriage at some point, but both of you were busy at the moment, especially with Ryomen Sukuna being somewhat revived into the world. While Yuuji was still technically “dead” to others, Satoru had trusted you enough to tell you about how his student had pretty much been revived from the dead. On your days off, you often visited your boyfriend and helped out with Yuuji’s training regime. He was a nice kid, despite his circumstances and being thrown into the jujutsu world suddenly.

The girl let go of your arm and got out her phone, furiously typing to someone. “Oh, my little sister won’t be happy to hear about this.”

“Little sister?”

“Yeah, my sister Momo goes to Kyoto. She’s pretty close with another girl, Kasumi, who I consider almost like another younger sister. She was super excited to meet Gojo-san a week ago. She’s like a superfan of him or something. I like to indulge her sometimes. I think she even made a fan club for Gojo-san or something. Anyways, Momo, even though she’s friends with Kasumi, she often gets annoyed with her talk about Gojo-san.”

You vaguely remember Satoru mentioning a girl from Kyoto that asked him for a picture. It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for your boyfriend to be asked to take pictures with, from the jujutsu world or from civilians; he had devastatingly good looks, so you couldn’t blame any of the people who asked for pictures. Besides, you knew his heart belonged to you and you only, so you were fine with others recognizing his allure.

“Oh, Kasumi’s calling me,” the girl said. She answered her phone, only for a younger voice to scream over the speaker. It was loud enough that you could hear it. Your teammate held her phone away from her ear.

“What do you mean he has a girlfriend?”

“Oh, come on Kasumi. You know how handsome he is. Besides, he’s like, what, twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine in December,” you confirmed.

“Way too old for you, ma’am,” the girl relayed to Kasumi.

“I don’t like him like that , Sumi-san! I j-just really admire him, okay! W-Who wouldn’t? World’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer in all.”

“Mhm. Anyway, I’ve got a mission today with the said girlfriend of Gojo Satoru. Want me to get you an autograph?” Sumi joked.

“...Could you?”

You let out a tiny laugh. This girl was funny, so you decided to humor her and leaned toward the phone. “One autograph for Kasumi?”

“M-Miwa Kasumi!” the voice on the phone squeaked out. She told you what kanji made up her name as you rummaged for a scrap piece of paper and pen from your bag. You made out the autograph, laughing a bit as you handed it to Sumi.

After you told her you signed an autograph for her, Kasumi said goodbye, hanging up the phone before Sumi could reply goodbye back. She seemed embarrassed about the ordeal.

“You were right, she seems like a good kid.”

“Kasumi is nice. She really balances out how serious my little sister Momo is,” Sumi responded.

For the rest of the car ride, you and Sumi chatted. Apparently, this was also her first Special Grade mission, as well as her first mission after graduating from Kyoto. Their other group member was also from Kyoto; he was two years Sumi’s senior. His name was Takahashi Daisuke. She didn’t know much about him since he tended to keep to himself. But she did know this wasn’t his first Special Grade mission. That relieved you substantially since you were nervous about this mission (as much as you didn’t want to admit to Satoru).

Eventually, the roads transformed from paved to just dirt. The driver turned onto a road on a hill, then began briefing the three of you on your mission. This was a Special Grade, suspected to be awakened by a Sukuna finger. This was just based on speculation, since the last Special Grade to pop up was from a Sukuna finger as well. The Special Grade had taken over an abandoned shrine, supposedly terrorizing the local village just down the hill (which had been evacuated just hours before). As the driver parked the car, the three of you exited the car. The air was crisp, with a distinct chill in the air. You could sense a particularly strong cursed energy in the premises, on par with Satoru’s cursed energy. You shuddered; this was not going to be an easy task.

The driver placed a curtain around the area, the sky darkening. It only made the situation seem even more grave. There was something in your gut telling you to run, not from being scared of the Special Grade, but because something bad was going to happen.

Sumi grabbed a wand from her belt. Her family was a pretty small sorcerer family on her mother’s side, as she had told you in the car. She and her sister have cursed techniques similar to “witches”; hers involved spells while her sister’s involved levitating a broom, among other objects.

Your cursed techniques, however, involved nature. There was a reason why you were selected specifically for this mission; the shrine was in the middle of the forest, the perfect place for you to go wild. Cities like Tokyo were incredibly constraining for you to use your cursed techniques, so you almost exclusively were assigned missions out in the country where nature was plentiful.

Neither you nor Sumi knew what Daisuke’s cursed technique was, but you assumed it was pretty strong considering he had been on missions with Special Grades before.

The mission started off fine. The three of you approached the shrine. It wasn’t particularly impressive, nothing that you would expect to house a Special Grade curse. The stone torii at the entrance was standing tall, unbothered by neither age nor the moss and vines growing on it. The shrine itself, however, was crumbling. One of the pillars holding up the roof was destroyed, so the roof was lopsided. The shimenawa knots were cut in half, the ends completely frayed. Definitely not a good sign.

After crossing the torii , you felt the Special Grade’s presence. It was overwhelming, unlike anything else you had experienced before. It possessed near-equal amounts of cursed energy as Satoru, but unlike your boyfriend, it held malicious intent within its cursed energy. To your left, Sumi was shaking. You held out a shaky hand onto her shoulder and squeezed. While you yourself didn’t feel confident about this mission now, you had a duty as the oldest member of the group here to be strong, for their sake.

The shrine began to shake, then the roof was suddenly blown off. You used your cursed technique to form a barrier of tree roots that erupted from the ground. Slabs of wood hit the roots, then bounced off. After the rain of wood subsided, you controlled the roots back into the ground in their original position.

You finally got a good look at the Special Grade curse. It was humanoid, but only in form. Its flesh was midnight blue, with eyes covering every centimeter of its body. Great, it had no blind spots. The curse had no apparent mouth, yet you were able to hear it let out an intimidating roar.

Daisuke made the first strike. He quickly pointed a handgun at the Special Grade and pulled the trigger. Out came a burst of his own cursed energy instead of a bullet. The blow just grazed the Special Grade enough for it to let out a screech of pain. Interesting, so this was his cursed energy. You wondered if it was limited to guns, or if he could apply it to a bow as well and use his cursed energy for arrows. You’d have to ask him later after this mission was completed.

It was apparent after Daisuke revealed his cursed technique that all of you were primarily distance fighters. There wasn’t much Sumi could do if her cursed technique focused on spells through her wand apparatus and Daisuke seemed to only have a gun on him. So, that meant you had to switch to a melee approach.

You weren’t the biggest fan of hand to hand combat. You weren’t very strong, preferring to assist from a distance. Recently, Satoru has been helping you learn new ways of fighting in close quarters. You decided to take the risk and make an attempt at using this still relatively new technique. You reached out your hands, summoning leaves from the trees. They surrounded your fists like boxing gloves, your cursed energy reinforcing the leaves to be almost as hard as the bark from the trees they came from.

You sprinted toward the Special Grade, preparing to land a blow. As you reared back for a punch, the Special Grade disappeared from in front of you. Then you felt a blow land on your back and you were sent through the forest until a particularly thick tree stopped your projectile body. Luckily, you reacted quickly enough to reinforce your front with cursed energy. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, you probably would’ve been knocked out immediately.

You picked yourself up from the ground, but the world was spinning. You leaned against a tree to collect your thoughts and rest a bit. The Special Grade was insanely fast and had no blind spots. You were panicking; this was well out of your skillset. Perhaps Daisuke was right; Satoru should’ve joined in on this mission. But you knew that wasn’t possible, as he also had his own Special Grade mission to handle today.

You brought a hand up to your face and gave yourself a hard smack. This was no time to doubt yourself or panic. You had two comrades out there fighting a Special Grade curse alone. There was no doubt that the Special Grade would notice you if you tried to rejoin the fight, at least on the ground. Your best bet would be to get the high ground; there would be fewer eyes on the top half, so the chances of you being noticed would be less than if you arrived by foot.

Okay, you had an idea. Now, to get an idea of how the fight was going. You kneeled down to the ground and placed your hand onto the ground, closing your eyes. You sent a minimal, hardly detectable pulse of cursed energy toward the fight through the ground. From what nature informed you, the fight was mostly one-sided in favor of the Special Grade. Daisuke was pretty beat up, and Sumi wasn’t in good shape either.

You got up then hurriedly began climbing the nearest tree. As you climbed up, you manipulated the bark to form grooves for you to place your hands and feet on. As you reached a decent height, you created a bridge with the overlapping tree branches sturdy enough for your weight. You sprinted across the bridge, ignoring your double vision. You definitely had a concussion, but now was not the time for you to worry about that. You didn’t wanna lose your comrades on this mission. Not again.

You wiped the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. In your final year of Tokyo High, your two classmates were killed right before your eyes on a mission. You escaped out of pure luck, but was determined to get stronger to avenge their deaths. If you let those two die… well, then, that meant you hadn’t gotten strong enough to protect anyone else.

Once you were just out of sight range of the cursed spirit, you closed your eyes to sense the battle again. Sumi was sitting on the ground, back to a tree as she watched the fight between Daisuke and the Special Grade. She was barely conscious, and it seemed like she had lost a lot of blood. You had an idea, but in order for it to work, you needed her help.

Using thin vines, you sent a message within her sight: I am still alive. I’m going to trap the Special Grade curse with branches. Use a fire spell on it when it’s bound.

All you could hope was that she was able to read the message and had enough cursed energy to cast the spell. You began moving branches from distant trees close to the Special Grade, as fast as possible without your cursed energy being detected. Once they were close enough, you waited for the right moment.

As Daisuke finally landed a hit with his cursed energy, moving the curse to the center of the shrine remnants, you launched your attack. The branches extended as fast as you could make them move. The hit Daisuke landed had temporarily slowed the Special Grade, enough for your branches to immobilize it. As the branches gripped the curse, Sumi sent a fire spell toward it, just as planned.

The branches (and the cursed spirit) caught on fire. But something was wrong; normally, you could extract cursed energy from a curse with your cursed technique to exorcise, but that wasn’t happening. Was it resisting? You felt a tug on the branches.

Without thinking, you acted on your own. You re-equipped the leaves cursed technique, as you jumped from the trees above. As gravity brought you closer to the Special Grade, you reared back to prepare the punch you had wanted to introduce it to earlier. As your fist landed on the curse, you allowed the leaves to leave your fist, sending it into the curse’s body. The leaves caught on fire before they entered the curse, imploding it.

So, you managed to exorcise the Special grade. But, doing so took all of your cursed energy and you had no more left to cushion your fall. Luckily, you managed to adjust your fall so that you slid on your stomach parallel to the ground instead of falling headfirst. It still hurt, and you definitely broke a few ribs doing that.

You somehow had enough energy to turn yourself onto your back, looking up at the starry night sky as the curtain was released. Your first Special Grade mission. Everyone lived and you exorcised it without Satoru’s help. Ha. He would be so proud of you.

You began to fall into unconsciousness right as you felt familiar arms lift you up.

When you woke up, you were in Shoko’s infirmary. There was a thin blanket covering your bottom half. Suddenly the events came back to you.

You sat up, gasping for air. Where were Sumi and Daisuke?

“You might want to lay back down,” a familiar voice told you. “Shoko healed you, but the pain might still be there.”

You did as the voice said, laying back at the elevated position you woke up in. You look over and blinked a few times, seeing your boyfriend sitting in a chair next to your bed. He was in his work uniform, including his blindfold. You winced as you felt a pain in your chest; Satoru was right, there still was residual pain.

“I exorcised a Special Grade,” you croaked.

“I know. I’m proud of you.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, giving you a soft smile, showing off his tiny dimples. His smile quickly turned to a frown as he lectured, “However, what you did was risky and crazy.”

“Aren’t you the one who says that jujutsu sorcerers have to be crazy to survive?” you argued.

“Yes, but there’s a difference between crazy and throwing your life away.”

“You saw that?” you asked, much more awake than you were a few seconds ago.

“I hurried as fast as I could with my own mission to come assist you if you needed. I got there right as you pulled that stunt of yours.”

You pulled your hand from his and placed your face in both of your hands, embarrassed that he saw you launch yourself from several meters high, use up all of your cursed energy, then make a hard landing onto the ground.

“How’s the other two?” you asked, refusing to move your face from your hands.

“Alive and doing well. You’re the most beat-up out of everyone.”

You removed your hands, clasping them together in your lap. “Thank goodness…”

“There wasn’t a Sukuna finger either,” Satoru reported to you. “The villagers’ fear of the shrine must have caused it to grow to a Special Grade. Now, come on. Shoko said you could come home once you woke up.” Satoru stood up, then scooped you up from the bed. You screamed in protest, now wide awake.

“Wha--Put me down!”

“No can do, honey. Doctor’s orders. Nothing strenuous for the next week.”

“Satoru, I don’t think walking counts as strenuous!”

He smiled his signature shit-eating grin, then gave you a kiss on your forehead. No fair, he knew forehead kisses were your weakness. You melted into his arms at how tender his kiss was, now docile and less likely to argue with him.

In a flash, he teleported the two of you to his apartment, setting you on the bed in front of him. After placing you on the bed, he yanked off his blindfold and began rummaging through his dresser, looking for a set of his clothes for you to wear. He tossed the shirt and pants toward you, not even bothering to turn around while you changed. You’d been together for so long (or at least, it felt like a long time) that there wasn’t anything particularly embarrassing about changing in front of each other.

You winced while lifting your hands up to take off your shirt, so Satoru was by your side in an instant, helping you take off your shift without much pain. He even helped you out of your bra and put on his shirt.

“You don’t need me to help you with the pants, do you?” he teased.

“I think I can handle it on my own,” you replied, standing up and shuffling out of your pants. Satoru’s pants were much too long for you, so you had to roll not only the waistband but also the cuffs so that they didn’t constantly drag on the ground. Not like you minded doing that; there was just something about his clothes that was infinitely more comforting than your own, and he knew that more than anyone else.

As you adjusted the pants, Satoru left the bedroom to head toward the kitchen, no doubt to start cooking some of your favorite foods. You laid down on your shared bed, happy to be home. It was a long day (Days? How long were you even unconscious?) and you were glad to have such a caring boyfriend, even if he was being a little annoying about this.

About an hour later, Satoru came into the bedroom with a tray of food. He wouldn’t let you even touch the chopsticks, insisting on feeding you food because he didn’t want you to “strain yourself.” You thought he was just being a little too overprotective, but you allowed him to feed you anyway. The look of satisfaction on his face was just too cute for you to deny him this tiny pleasure.

After dinner, you immediately wanted to go to bed. Satoru quickly ate his portion of dinner then changed out of his work clothes into something much more comfortable to sleep in. He joined you under the covers, using his cursed energy to turn off the lights. You felt his arms gently snake their way around your waist, pressing you into his front. You sighed in contentment; he was warm, but not too warm.

After a few seconds of silence, you piped up, “Satoru?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking care of me. I love you.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your neck, just behind your ear. “Anything for you, my love,” he breathed onto your neck. You could feel him smiling gently. “Maybe we should just get married.”

You grumbled something, not even quite sure what you said or even what he said completely. Before sleep overtook you, you mumbled out one last final “I love you,” incredibly happy to be in your boyfriend’s arms at the moment.

[ahtsumu]

the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. ��On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!” 

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.” 

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.) 

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

[squishneedsahero]

Shattered

Broken Things to Mend

Part 1 of 1

Word Count: 5998

A soulmate au where you have the first sentence your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body in their handwriting.

TW: Abuse, neglect and starvation mentions (I’m sure theres more pls let me know if I need to add anything)

You were roughly thrown into a cell and the door shut behind you with a snap, exhausted you fall to your knees and stay on the floor rather than trying to fight your way back out. You were tired, so, so tired. Your body ached, cuts and bruises littered every inch of your skin, mere hours ago you had felt invincible but now you were nothing but broken. You collapsed to your knees and cried on the floor wondering how you had fallen so far.

Here you were locked in a cell on Asgard, and here was where you were going to stay until the humans had something properly set up to contain you. Why you had tried to take over that planet you weren't quite sure, tired of feeling weak had lead you down a dark path. A path from which you couldn't return, and had been regretting as you walked down it. But you couldn't stop yourself and now it was too late.

Broken was the only way to describe yourself, you had been broken for millennia and had finally thought you could piece yourself back together when you'd found the infinity stone. The power stone. You'd thought yourself strong enough to use its power, to stop those who had hurt you and others who wanted to hurt innocents in their paths. You had soon found you weren't strong enough, you were alone and it had corrupted your mind, having no one to anchor you to reality. That's when he had shown up. The purple Titan set on reforming the universe, making it a better place, and in your broken state of mind his plan had made sense, you had agreed to help him, to take out the biggest threat in his way.

You had failed, you had lost to that group called the Avengers and soon enough Thanos would be coming after you himself to remove any loose ends. You weren't the first he had sent but you were most likely the last he'd send on their own without him to lead them directly. He'd only kept you because you were able to hold the power stone in your hands and not be destroyed, someone broken who he could control who could keep the stone safe until he was able to wield it himself.

As soon as he'd seen you failing to take earth he had taken the stone from you and left you for dead. Once you were no longer in possession of the gem you had come back to your senses, seen all the havoc you'd wreaked upon that innocent planet. But it was too late, you were already the enemy and they'd never understand if you tried to explain. So you had fought, continuing to try and protect yourself and your life until they had finally overcome you.

Now you were sitting in a cell, back to yourself but now shattered rather than having just a few chips on your broken soul. You'd ben controlled and manipulated your entire life, by those who claimed to be your friends and family, but it was only ever for the power which you had. Seemingly the last of your species, dark and wraith-like nothing more than a wisp of what you could be and easy to control. A child who could wield the power of the infinity stones, any powerful person would want you in their control.

All of that manipulation had left you more than a little broken, to the point that as soon as you had actually been able to get your hands on that gem you'd instantly turned on them. Then you'd gone after all the others who had manipulated you and dictated your life. You'd been passed from hand to hand as a slave would be, malnourished to keep a leash on you. Sometimes you were sold, other times traded, but mostly those who had been holding you were attacked and killed so that somebody new could control you.

Despite having wielded the infinity stone less than a day before you were back to that state you had been in. The stone had been the only thing sustaining your life and making you seem to be anything more than someone who'd been a broken child and was now a broken adult. You fall asleep on your place on the floor in that cell on Asgard, you were powerless to do anything and you knew it, sleeping was the only way you'd be able to ignore the crushing guilt you felt for all you had done.

All too soon you're woken up, the drapes over the glass door of your cell being opened wide and exposing you to the glaring lights. You preferred the dark as any wraith would, it was your natural state to be in the dark, so natural that the light almost hurt. Once you're awake you look over your thin arms and legs, the bruises and cuts from the fight before all healed, thats why they'd opened the drapes, you'd had enough time to heal in the dark but they didn't want to leave you in the dark. The darkness brought you power, not as much power as that gem had, and not as Much as any sort of nutrients would but it had allowed you to heal.

After your eyes finish lingering on the elegant script on your forearm you pull your sleeve to cover it and look up. Across the hallway was another cell, this one containing a raven haired man, his gaze fixed on you and not breaking even when you meet his stare with your own. He looks to be in good shape and everyone else there would think so as well, but you were able to see the haze of magic over his room. You couldn't see through it, you didn't know what he was hiding but there was something he was keeping from prying eyes and you could only applaud him for being able to protect himself in such a way.

~~~~~

Loki had looked up from his book when the drapes across the prison hall were drawn away from the cell they'd been covering from his view. Inside was a person most unusual, a wisp of a being, with grayish skin and sunken eyes which had seen so many things. What were they? He asked himself, intrigued as he'd never seen anything like them before. He's surprised when they meet his eyes and don't look away immediately as anyone else would. The few moments of eye contact are brief as the figure gets up off the floor and seemingly drifts over to their cot.

Peculiar, a long dark robe covered their grayish form, ending a foot or so from the ground revealing no legs or feet touching the floor. There was a faint cloud of dark mist that seemed to surround them, which pooled around where their feet should have been. This was their natural form, no magic concealed who they were as he did with himself. He watches as they take a seat on their cot, the mist around them gathers and forms some spindly legs. Intriguing, now that he had seen that he couldn't unsee it, their entire form seemed to be made of mist, there but not really there, but by the way they sat thy definitely has a solid form in there somewhere.

~~~~~

You'd moved to your cot, hoping that movement would break the stranger's eye contact but when you sat and turned around his gaze was still fixed on you. You hated being perceived, anytime someone looked at you there was a thirst to their gaze, a desire as they wanted to own you. His gaze was different though, more curious than wanting to control you. It eased you ever so slightly, but you still hated it, so you stared back.

Most wouldn't hold your gaze for long before breaking it, they found you horrible to look at with your grey skin and sunken eyes. You weren't always like that though, when you'd had the power stone you had found your true form, what you'd look like if you had been properly taken care of and healthy. Even then, in your true form, people wouldn't hold your gaze, you were no longer the disgusting monster you were currently but they could see the inside. Your grace and power which flowed off of you in that form intimidated them and they'd look away, but this man didn't.

You stare back at him, allowing yourself to break eye contact knowing intimidation and fear would get him to stop, so let him look at the monster you were. You were the most horrible creature someone could set eyes on in their lifetime, if he wanted the sight of you burned into his retina who were you to stop him? So instead you take your own turn to observe him, taking in his features, taking time to notice more than just the raven hair that flowed to his shoulders. His emerald eyes were the first thing which you noticed besides the hair, but it wasn't so much the color that intrigued you it was the pain and loathing you could sense behind them. He did well to hide it but not from you, you had seen that look in your own eyes too many times to not recognize it.

Who knows how long the two of you spend staring at each other across that hallway, but you both allow it to go on. Him, intrigued by never having seen anything like you before and you staring as the face before you feels familiar. You hadn't spent much time around other beings, recognizing faces was not your strong suit but picking a voice out of a crowd was easy. Finally you place it, you place him. A face you'd seen many times in your nightmares. He was the one Thanos called Laufeyson, the one who had gone before you to earth to try and take over. The other one who had failed. The other one Thanos would come after in his rage. The other loose end was sitting there across the hallway from you.

For some reason the fact that he was also here brought you peace, it brought you hope. Maybe, just maybe he had also been controlled. Maybe he would back you up and make an attempt of explaining who Thanos was and what his plans were worth it. But you could be wrong. He could have done nearly the same thing you did but all of his own accord. He could've enjoyed hurting those people.

It was that thought that prevented you from trying to talk to him through the glass. You keep quiet except for when you're being questioned, then you give nothing but honest answers and they aren't believed so you're questioned again and again, tortured and punished for what they take to be lies. At least they allow you to sit in the dark after you're through with the torture, only long enough to heal, but it's long enough to bring you some solace and block the prying eyes.

The constant pain wasn't anything new to you, everyone who had kept you before this had done the same thing if only for different reasons. They had been scared of you, wanted to hurt you to keep you weak, the Asgardians though, were not scared of you. They wanted information and not to keep you on death's door, so their torture was nothing to you.

It becomes routine for you, one day of torture, one day of darkness and one day of nothing before the cycle begins again. One day you find yourself waiting for the guards to come get you, able to guess nearly down to the minute they would arrive each time, but today they don't come. Why they don't come you haven't a clue, until an hour later when a soldier comes storming down the stairs and the man across the hall gives him directions to somewhere.

Then after more hours pass then another guard, this one a guard of Asgard comes down the staircase and talks to the man across the hall. You watch as the magic haze over his room flickers before steadying out once more, whatever he had just been told upset him, and you could only hope it wasn't Thanos coming for the two of you.

The next morning you gain somewhat of an answer, the broad shouldered blond comes down and speaks to the raven haired man, Thor you believed his name was. He was one of the heroes who had protected earth from you. You're surprised when Loki's illusion is lifted from his cell, revealing the state he is in along with all of the broken furniture that had seemed pristine moments earlier. Then even more surprisingly Thor opens up the cell to release him before turning to face you and making your glass cell wall melt away as well.

"You are a wraith, yes?" he ask and you merely nod.

"A wraith you say?" Loki asks, his curiosity piqued once again by you.

"Brother, I need your help to watch her, she tried to take over Midgard as well, but we need her help," then Thor shoots you a look, questioning silently if you'd help.

You couldn't help but wonder how stupid he was as you nod, signaling you would help. He didn't know you, you were nothing but a monster so how could he so willingly trust you? His hand resting on your shoulder startles you, "very well, Wraith, I can see there is good in you-"

"Even with all those people I killed?" You ask, breaking your silence.

"Yes, I have heard the reports from the guards. You've remained steady in your story that you were manipulated into doing all of that and at this time we need all the help we can get and I'm willing to take the chance," he responds confidently.

You nod, once again, thoroughly confused but willing to follow him and his brother through the halls of the palace until you meet with a woman. "Loki, Wraith, this is Jane Foster- the dark elves are here because of her, the aether as fused with her body and they are trying to take her and destroy the nine realms."

"Are you serious Thor? You think that we stand a chance against the might of the dark elves?" Loki asks, irridiculously with a glance in your direction.

"We do, we have you brother and Jane is stronger than she seems," he tries to rest a hand on Loki's shoulder but the other man dodges the hand.

"What does the Wraith have to do with it?"

"When she tried taking over Midgard she carried the power stone in her hands and did not crumble to dust. The aether is much like the power stone and she should be able to protect it from the elves-"

"And you're just going to trust the fate of the nine realms to two criminals?" Loki asks, sounding like he just wants to argue.

"Yes. We must be getting out of here though," Thor says once again with that same confidence.

He leads the group of the four of you through the halls of the palace, taking some sudden turns and winding your way about until you come to an odd looking ship which he has all of you get in before he starts it up and begins flying all of you out of Asgard to who knows where. Once in the ship Loki turns his attention to you for the millionth time and you, as always, maintain eye contact. For some reason Loki's frustrations seem focused on you as he turns once more to Thor, "you've heard tales of the Wraiths and their power how can you trust this one so easily?!" he sounds outraged.

You turn away from him and take a deep breath, despite not having a reaction to all of the torture the sound of him yelling terrified you more than anything. So many times you'd been shouted at then beaten, scolded then thrown in a room lit so brightly it burned your skin. You needed to focus, try and figure out if Thor was being truthful in his trust of you, or if he was trying a different tactic of manipulating you. All you knew he was telling the truth about was that the woman, Jane, has an infinity stone bonded to her and it is slowly killing her.

You don't even realize that she has taken a seat next to you where you have your head in your hands and tried offering words of comfort. You shake your head, "no, Loki is right, it is foolish of Thor to trust me. I'm a monster who has never left anything but pain and destruction in my path. It may not have been my choice to attack earth but I was so filled with pain that I allowed it to happen and even if I can contain the power of the Aether I do not know how it will effect my mind."

"Useless," Loki spits at you.

Then you stand up, feeling anger as you face him, "I know who you are Loki. Thanos is coming for you just like he is coming for me because we failed to take down his enemies, do not act as though you are better than me, the power stone corrupted my mind because I am weak but I was never given a chance until now to do good and I am taking it even if you doubt me. I've learned the hard way I don't need other's approval."

You were going to continue but it is at this point you realize Loki's expression has changed from one of nearly disgust to shock. His masks had fallen down as he stares at you and you glance at Thor who is also looking at you in shock and by the time you're back to Loki his expression is stone cold once more. "What did you say?" he asks in a low tone.

You'd thought his shout had been bad but this terrified you so much more, he was far too calm. You take a shaky breath and say, more gently this time, "Thanos sent me when you failed. I was easy to manipulate because the power stone took ahold of my mind and he used that, I wouldn't doubt if he did the exact same thing to you-"

"Not that-" he says, that angered tone returning as he snatches your right wrist and lifts your sleeve to reveal your soul mark on your forearm. There, shining gold and beautiful against your grey skin was one word, "Useless."

~~~~~

A much as he hated to admit it the Wraith intrigued him, but the part that hurt, the part that made him feel angered towards them was that Thor had so easily trusted them, a complete stranger. Loki and Thor had been brothers, and sure Thor was an idiot for trusting Loki to help with this situation but him showing trust to a total stranger in the same minute he'd offered a second chance to Loki stung.

This is why he questions Thor, why he snaps at you, it's all a test to see if you truly could be trusted. You much like he had had tried to take over Midgard, you could be a good ally but with the situation at hand how could he know he could trust you. So he pushed, working quickly to find what things set you off, what things got you to break the state of silence you were always in.

He had found it, the one thing that made you angered enough to lash out was him spitting that single word at you. Your reaction had surprised him, how quickly you'd been on your feet and in his face. How your entire countenance shown with a deeply hidden power that it seemed even you were unaware of. But the part that surprised him the most were the words that left your lips as you faced him.

"I know you Loki." You hadn't said it with malice, but as a fact, now you knew him he hadn't a clue. He's in too much shock to hear the next words you say, stating how you won't be useless any longer.

He quickly masks his face once again when he realizes you had stopped speaking. He can't stop the hint of anger that crept into his tone. He was far from angry now, but anger was the only thing that kept anyone from getting close enough to him to see through his walls, "what did you say?" he asks in a low voice.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes as you go to respond, "Thanos sent me when you failed. I was easy to manipulate because the power stone took ahold of my mind and he used that, I wouldn't doubt if he did the exact same thing to you-"

"Not that-" he says but doesn't have the patience to explain. He catches your right wrist in his hand and lifts your sleeve to reveal your soul mark. He doesn't realize that his masks once again drop before you as he stares at the elegant script that covered your forearm. His cold finger runs gently over the word written on your soul, "useless," the first word he had uttered to the one who was his soulmate.

~~~~~

It's as his index finger runs over the mark on your arm that you realize what he has said. The first word he had spoken directly to you, the one that had brought you hope in some of your darkest moments, the one that had also broken you completely, even your soulmate thought you were useless. You can't help it as you snatch your arm away from him, how dare he- How dare he call you useless then stare at your soul mark- Even if he was your soulmate.

You're surprised when he actually lets you walk away to the other end of the ship without stopping you. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you stare at those beautiful yet painful letters on your arm, somewhere in the back of your mind you register Thor and Jane having a whispered conversation. Without turning around you know that Loki hadn't moved from his place and was still staring at your back, damn him why did he have to be like this.

You had only shared looks across that hallway for months, you'd never done anything to warrant him being rude to you in this way and now, knowing as well as he did that your souls were linked hurt. If you weren't already so broken you're sure it would have broken you more, would have been the final straw to tear you apart... There isn't time for you to dwell on that as the ship rocks back and forth, coming into contact with the turbulence of an atmosphere, you were landing and it was time for you to take your chance to do something good with your life. With that thought in your mind you pull your sleeve down to cover your arm again and turn to stride past Loki to the front of the ship.

~~~~~

Loki could only gaze after you when you walked away, he recognized a broken soul when he saw one, it was what he saw in the mirror everyday. He had seen the disdain and hurt in your eyes as you ripped your arm away from his grasp, and knowing you were the one he was meant to spend his life with, the one most likely to love him back and he had already hurt you. The feeling was so much worse than any torture that Thanos could think to inflict upon him.

When they were going in for a landing and you strode past him without a glance it was like a punch in the gut. He had ruined any chance he had of gaining you favor in less than and hour, just because he had to play stupid, stupid, mind games. He just had to try and push your buttons and test you as he always did with anyone he saw a possibility of being useful.

~~~~~

You look at Jane for a moment before gently resting your hand on her shoulder, "I'm going to try and take the aether from you..." you glance at Thor, "if I loose control I want you to do whatever it takes to keep me from hurting more people even if it means killing me." You make eye contact with him for a few moments before asking, "can you please promise me this?" You ask in barely more than a whisper, letting your shields down for once as you ask, you don't care you just don't want anyone to use you anymore.

"I will promise you Wraith, I will not let you bring harm to anyone else," Thor says confidently, though you do notice his glance at Loki.

That allows you to relax, you take your time as you come to a landing on the red desert planet below you to focus your attention on taking the Aether out of the human. By the time you all land you've been able to take it from her it's power flowing through you. This stone is much more subtle than the power stone, you're able to keep control of your own mind when the reality stone latches itself to you.

~~~~~

Loki can only watch as you take the Aether from Jane, hearing you didn't care how Thor stopped you only confirmed his fear he had scared you off with his childish games. Nevertheless as he watches he's amazed with the transformation your body goes through as you harness the power of the infinity stone.

Your grayish skin changes to a more human color, your body fills out, your wispy figure disappearing. The years of abuse disappearing from your form, revealing your true beauty and the confidence someone with your abilities should. He can only stand in awe of you and your appearance as you turn to then step off the ship onto the desert planet.

When he hesitates to follow Thor walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, "brother, it is not too late. You can see through lies, you would know if all that the Wraith has said is true or not. They are clearly as broken as you are, Brother, but they are willing to change. I'm sure that if you do, they also hold forgiveness in their heart." Thor gives him a firm pat on the shoulder as he turns to also leave the ship, "now let us go, and defeat the dark elves before they can take the Aether."

~~~~~

You stand and can see the ship of the Dark Elves' in the distance. If this was your end then so be it, you could finally rest with peace knowing you had aided Thor as some level of recompense for the damage you had caused. Jane comes to stand next to you, breathing deeply as she gently says, "thank you."

"I'm just glad that I am able to help the universe in some way," you respond, your eyes can't help but linger for a moment on her soul mark, on her right forearm where everyone's was. Part of you hoped that Loki wasn't your soulmate, it was only one word and not specific enough to guarantee anything, but you knew that wasn't the case, with the way he had reacted you knew the words on his arm were the first that left your lips when speaking to him.

"I know that you will," Jane says, removing you from your thoughts.

Thats when Thor makes his way down to the two of you, "Jane, you stay here but not on the ship, it is where you will be safest."

"Thor I am not going to just sit back and watch all of this happen, I might not be as powerful as the rest of you but I will be doing my part."

Thor can only nod, and you can see the fond smile he has on his face as he looks at her, "very well, but as soon as the convergence begins I will be placing you back on earth to do your part there." With that he leads the way towards the other ship, not waiting to see if his brother would be joining them. It would be very helpful to have the trickster at their side during this but after the words which had been spoken it made sense that Loki would need a moment.

As you walk Thor asks you if you know what you are capable of. "No, I don't I have been told of the things I can do as a Wraith but I have been kept subdued my entire existence so I haven't learned anything more that what you saw on earth... But I do have control of my own mind at this time," you add trying to make sure he wouldn't misunderstand you.

"It will be enough," he says and once again places a hand on your shoulder, but quickly removes it when you flinch. The group of twenty or so Dark Elves stand a few hundred feet in front of you when Thor speaks again, raising his voice to shout, "Malekith! Today is the day you meet your end, I will not allow you to destroy the nine realms."

"Thor," Malekith responds with a eerie smile on his face, "I thank you for delivering the Aether to me, unfortunately you won't be around to see the realms brought to perfection." It's with that that he points a finger towards your group, signaling for his followers to attack you.

Everything happening flies past, much like it had on earth, you fight alongside Thor using the power of the Aether to aid you, but then you come face to face with Malekith. The Elf has some sort of hold over the Aether and by extension you, he lifts you into the air and begins to take the Aether from you. No matter how you struggle you can feel not just the Aether but also your life slipping away from you, he wasn't taking just the infinity stone but all the power your weak body held. You try and fight, and try to hold on but before it your vision goes black.

You didn't expect too but you're able to open your eyes again hours later, the Aether has left you so you are back to your grey wispy form but your body doesn't ache as badly as you had expected. This planet was dark so it made sense, you'd been able to heal yourself in the shadows. You sit up, your eyes already adjusted to the dark, but just now noticing that there was nothing on the planet around you. There was some rubble of the ship nearby but besides that nothing, no Dark Elves, no Thor, no Jane. You were alone and how exactly you felt about that you weren't sure, you'd never been left so completely alone before.

Your reaction comes slowly, you can only assume that since you are alive you had done your part but it doesn't stop you from crying as suddenly everything sets in. You'd been able to do something good with your life, finally, but as you always had you'd left a trail of loss and destruction behind you. Sure, it was fine the Elves were gone but Thor and Jane had abandoned you here, on purpose or not was unclear. Though, the thing that hurt the most was that you had met your soulmate and you had instantly pushed him away, just for him to do the same. Sure, he had hurt you but you turning your back so quickly once you realized had to have hurt him as well and now you were on this barren planet where you'd eventually die of starvation.

You sit up as you let the tears roll down your cheeks, your hand naturally grasping at the floor for any sort of stability. You're shocked when you don't find that though, you lift your hand to your tear filled eyes and look at the dirt filling your palm. You were outside for one of the few times in your life and something about that calmed your tears, they were still present but weren't flowing as freely. You continued to let the feeling of dirt running through your fingers to ground you, you were finally free even if- no don't think about the long slow death awaiting you here just enjoy the fact that you are free that you could stand up right now and take off running without  anyone hunting you down. Thats it- thats what you'll do, you'll run for the first time in centuries and just let the wind blow around you. You stand up, wiping the tears from your cheeks as you take a shaky breath, let out an excited laugh and look ahead of you.

Standing in front of you is him, Loki. You hadn't noticed he was there, how much he had seen of you crying on the ground you had no idea but the fact that he was there created a strange sensation in your chest. "I- Loki I didn't-"

Once again he cuts you off but this time it's much gentler, "no, I need to apologize. I've been captivated by you since the moment I first laid eyes on you then when we were finally able to speak I lashed out with childish games, Wraith-"

It's your turn to cut him off, "my name isn't actually Wraith, it's y/n," you pause and decide to extend an olive branch of your own, "you can just call me y/n."

"Y/n," he says thoughtfully, letting the name flow off of his silver tongue, and once again that strange tightening sensation strikes your chest. "That is a lovely name, y/n," he concludes.

You bite on the tip of your tongue as you look at him for a moment, "I need to apologize as well. I walked away from you without giving you a chance to explain yourself. I know we are little more than strangers and you calling my trustworthiness into question is only logical."

He seems a bit taken aback by your honesty but he smoothly take your hand in his, lifting your sleeve once more to look at your soul mark. "Would you be willing to give me a second chance to make up for my mistake? I have a feeling we are both broken and bruised, similar yet different with much to learn."

You cant stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. You take your hand back from his and take ahold of his right arm, taking your turn to lift his armored sleeve and view the words written there in gold, "I know you Loki," you read them out loud then meet his eyes once more, "I'd be happy to give you a second chance as you call it, as long as you are willing to give me one as well."

The relief behind his eyes is clear to you, but what isn't clear is why he cups your cheeks in his hands. He gently wipes away any remaining tears on your face, "of course I will give you a second chance," he states it gently, but firmly and once again your chest tightens. It was then that he made his intentions with his hands on your cheeks clear, as he used them to pull you into a cautious kiss, that becomes more sure when you return it.  

[mimento-more]

Bucky Barnes x Reader – The day that I ruined your life.

(sorry for any mistake, english is not my first language. Gif not mine)

TRIGGERS: mentions of blood, character death, violance. 

TYPE: angst.

_____________________________________________________________

“So James tell me, have you had any nightmares recently?” the therapist asked him like every week.

Of course he had nightmares, he killed so many people when he was the Winter Soldier, the feeling of guilt never left him. But recently he had been feeling worst than any other week. Three days from that day will be the anniversary of the death of his soulmate, his beloved, his best friend and unfortunately, his victim too.

_____________________________________________________________

Five years ago…

“Come ‘on Bucky don’t be an asshole, give me that back.” said the girl to the ex sergeant.

“Take it yourself. Oh wait… you seem a little too short to grab it.” Bucky said laughing hard. He and y/n would always do things like that, they annoyed each other so much that the Avengers almost hated them both.

“James Barnes if you don’t give me back my phone I swear-“ she was cut off by Jarvis.

“Agent Barnes, Agent l/n, you have an incoming call from Nick Fury.”

“Agent Barnes, Agent l/n, I need your help, since the Avengers are away. We have found a secret H.Y.D.R.A. base and it seems that they are trying to create a new Winter Soldier. This base is situated in Siberia. I’m sending you an Alicaner to get you there. Don’t fuck it up, we can’t afford to let them finish their project.”

y/n gave a look at Bucky. She knew this would be hard for him even after all the therapy with the Avengers and their newfound friendship. That place would be for sure the base that created the first and only Winter Soldier, a twisted version of Bucky that he hated and hoped to bury deep down in him even though sometimes it tried to show up and kill everyone in the room.  

The girl took Bucky’s hand and tried to reassure him that the mission will go well and that she will protect him from that evil monster that was H.Y.D.RA.

Bucky knew very well that when y/n said those kinds of words she will keep them but he was really scared to turn back to the old himself, after all those 3 damned words kinda worked on him even now. He tried not to think about it and simply hugged the h/c woman. He hugged her so hard that she was out of breath shortly and had to say his name to stop him. They laughed one last time before heading to the plane. 

After a a few hours they were in the freezing cold Siberia and the only thing left was to head to the not-so-secret-anymore base. Bucky and y/n had to come up with a plan quick if they didn’t want to be caught; after a while they decided to sneak in and to separate to look for information’s on the new type of super soldier and try to destroy them.

y/n was pretty athletic so she sneaked in easily but for Bucky it was a bit more difficult. The only thing he could do was to surrend himself and hope they would take him back.

y/n found a room that was dark and the only light source was very poor which turned in her favour so she could stay hidden in the shadows and source up things. When almost all hope were lost she found a fil folder that contained a bounce of paper sheets. She read them and what she found was terrifying to her…

Bucky’s acting was never the best but fortunately the secret society believed him or so he thought.

The moment they took him into a room he saw a face he wished to never see again, Zemo was there standing with the Winter Soldier book in his hands.

Bucky was right about fearing the worst when him and y/n were called on this mission.

“it’s nice to meet you again, old friend.” Zemo greeted him with a sly smile.

“I’m not your friend, Zemo.” Said Bucky with stone cold voice.

“we know why you’re here, oh wait let me correct myself, why you and that girl are here” said the man. Bucky felt a shiver down his spine. They knew everything from the start: the base, Fury this time didn’t think ahead, he and y/n have fallen into a trap.

“well now that you’re here why don’t we catch on the old times? I remember you screaming so loud that it was like music to my ears. Boys take him here.” He ordered the two guys that were behind Bucky. The ex sergeant fought them but he felt a sting in his right arm, one of the soldier injected him with something that made his vison go black.

y/n watched those files again and again but she still couldn’t believe that was nothing in them; Bucky and her have fallen into a trap. How could have she even thought that this mission would be that simple? She felt stupid, she was naïve but a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent couldn’t afford to be naïve or they would die.

While she was scolding herself, she didn’t capture the sound of someone walking in but when she felt someone grabbing her she was quick to neutralizing them. The woman run away from that room but going back to the main corridor would have mean a certain death. She quickly scanned the alleyway and saw a small door. “it’s the only way out of here, come ‘on y/n you can do it.” She reassured herself even though she was claustrophobic.

Crawling her way out she then arrived at the entrance and surprisingly enough Bucky was there.

“Buc we have to go, it’s a trap” she told him but as soon as she finished to talk a hand grabbed her buy the neck and smashed her to the nearest wall. The air was leaving her lungs quickly as she tried to grab Bucky’s metal arm to stop that torture but his grip was too strong and she almost blanked out. Then her throat was released but a punch hit her stomach hard then in the face multiple times, now she was a bloody mess.

The Winter Soldier was back.

Bucky was following the orders, killing the spy. He was back to his evil origins but he couldn’t fight against an order not when Zemo said those russian words that made him swap back. He liked that feeling: the power, the violence but at the same time the good side of him knew this was bad. All he could ear was his punches hitting skin and felt blood on his armored arm but then he heard a mumble.

“Please stop.” That voice was familiar but he couldn’t grab on it. He continued punching the spy until there was silence. The small whimpers stopped and that could mean only one thing: the spy was dead and his mission was accomplished.

“B-b-buc, I love you.” She said with her last breath.

That 4 words snapped the Winter Soldier out of that foggy mess that was his head and let return Bucky Barnes at the reality. What he saw was horrifying: blood everywhere, blood on his hands and then he looked at what once was his best friend now laying in a pool of blood with eyes shut open and cold as ice. Bucky kneeled down to grab her lifeless body and hugged it one last time. Tears were falling down his face without him even realizing. The pain, the grief, the guilt, he felt everything.

_____________________________________________________________

Today…

“James, can you answer my question?” the therapist asked once again.

“No, no I don’t.” he answered with a small forced smile.

He remembers that day as the day that he ruined her life.

if anyone is interested I can create a tag list. Write me if you want to be in there. Thanks for reading ✨

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 13

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: Ahsoka takes Din on a journey through the past.

“You should know though, you might not like what you see.”

Din shakes his head, dismissing the warning. “What’s one more nightmare?”

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,958

Warnings: angst, swearing, character death (canonical, but with my own twist), made up planet name that is ridiculous, dialogue heavy, plot plot plot, backstory

Author Note: Good lord this is soooo late coming out. To anyone who sent me an encouraging message I am beyond grateful because I really needed the encouragement to finish this segment. I hope more than anything this segment gives more answers than it raises questions (although reading your theories is both awesome and entertaining so keep them coming too!)

Links to Part 1 and Part 12 and Part 14

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

“Who the fuck is Moff Gideon?”

Ahsoka looks at Din, her brow furrowed deeply. He’s seen the expression on her face enough times to recognize its meaning: this is the face she makes when she is about to reveal a message directly from the universe itself. As an Oracle, she is the only immortal who can glimpse details of the past, present, and future. She has a soft spot for mortals, sharing the few precious snippets the universe allows her to with them in the forms of riddles and vague prophecies that never fail to give Din a migraine with their crypticness when he hears them.

“Moff Gideon is a Seraph who grew discontent with his position amongst immortals,” she says at last.

“Is he the one responsible for keeping my soulmate from me?” he asks, voice as harsh and unforgiving as the environment surrounding them.

“He is responsible for many sins.”

“I don’t have time for your vague answers,” he growls, hands twisting into fists. “You tell me not to kill this Seraph, then in the next breath claim he’s a threat. I am not a mortal who will be entertained by riddles, Ahsoka. You summoned me here to talk, so start talking. Tell me what you know.”

The Oracle’s mouth purses into a thin line. Nearly a full minute passes before she speaks again. When she does, the calmness is no longer natural, but forced. “Telling you what I know would be impossible.”

“Ahsoka—”

“But,” she pitches her voice higher than his protest while narrowing her eyes disapprovingly, “I am capable of showing you. You should know though, you might not like what you see.”

Din shakes his head, dismissing the warning. “What’s one more nightmare?”

She reaches forward, pressing her index and middle fingers to the center of his visor. If not for his helmet, she’d be touching the space directly between his eyes and instinct tells him the positioning isn’t random.

“We’ll start at the beginning,” she says, but her voice has changed from its usual cadence. It is ancient and youthful, a harsh scream and a hushed whisper all at once.

Din has only the slightest of seconds to process this in addition to the way her facial markings start to glow and her eyes flash white before he finds himself standing in the midst of a crisis.

There is mass hysteria every direction he turns. People screaming in terror, pushing each other and tripping over those who have fallen in their haste to flee an unseen threat; whole buildings are crumbling, sending flaming debris and shards of glass raining down upon the streets as smoke billows into the sky. The edges of his field of view are blurred, like he’s looking at everything through someone’s glasses, and it creates an ache behind his eyeballs. Fuck, is this what it’s like for Ahsoka when she experiences visions?

‘You remember the Fall of Mandalore, don’t you, Death?’ Ahsoka’s voice resonates from deep inside his brain, as if she’s fused her consciousness with his.

His jaw tightens when he says, “Of course.”

‘Oh, look. There you are.’

Sure enough, when Din looks forward he sees himself moving swiftly through the crowd, unaffected by the chaos as he stoops to reap the soul of a woman who’s had her skull caved in by the stampede of frantic civilians. He wonders how many others can say they’ve had an out-of-body-experience such as what he’s dealing with right now: reliving a traumatic event all over again while observing himself the same way a stranger would from a distance.

“Why are you showing me this?”

‘Because it’s important,’ Ahsoka answers, and the image of her frowning face enters his mind unbiddenly. ‘The universe has a plethora of endings imagined for every civilization, but it is the individual choices of the community that act as stepping stones bringing them closer to a specific fate.’

“Mandalore was always meant to fall apart. It was just a matter of how, not when,” he surmises, voice devoid of emotion. His words are punctuated by another fiery blast from a nearby complex, followed by an ear-piercing wall of a terrified child.

‘Precisely. But the same cannot be said for an individual’s lifespan. There are consequences if someone perishes before their time has come. You should know that better than anyone.’ There is a hint of accusation thinly veiled in her tone that has his body tensing reflexively.

His location shifts, shapes and colors mixing together without warning before another scene gradually comes into focus. It’s a large chamber with sparse furnishings, but its beauty is tarnished by the copious amounts of glass littering the room as every single one of the ornately designed windows have been shattered from the force of the explosions outside. Din knows before he even lays eyes on the throne he’s inside the royal palace because he first sees the familiar face of his most trusted reaper standing next to a blond-haired woman. Both women have such strikingly similar facial features nobody who sees them side by side can have any doubt they are related.

Whereas Bo-Katan dons gray-and-blue armor with a jetpack strapped to her back and two blaster pistols holstered at her sides, her sister, Satine, wears a garnet colored dress with a gold belt wrapped around her slender waist. In this moment, the sisters differ from each other as much as night and day; one a military leader, the other a pacifistic duchess.

“You need someone here to protect you. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with and it isn’t safe for you to be alone,” Bo-Katan argues, crossing her arms over her chest as if to intimidate her sister into submitting.

“Our people are scared and defenseless, Bo. They need your protection during this crisis more than I currently do,” Satine says, voice soft but firm in a way only those deeply involved in politics can master.

Bo-Katan glances out the broken windows at the burning city, stubborn loyalty to protect her sister warring with her duty to protect her people. “Then at least send a message to Obi-Wan to come here.”

Satine shakes her head. “Bo—”

“I know things are strained between you two right now—”

“That’s a glaring understatement.”

“—but he’s one of our best and most loyal guards. He’s proven more than a dozen times he’ll fight anyone who’s a threat to you.”

“I don’t need the reminder of what he’s done for me.”

Bo-Katan places a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and squeezes it when she says, “He’s the only one other than myself I trust to protect you if you were to encounter danger.”

“Just because I’m committed to peace does not mean I am incapable of looking after myself.” Satine reaches behind herself to detach a weapon that had been clipped to the back of her belt. She clicks a button on its hilt, emitting a white blade shining brightly like a beacon amongst the dark clouds of smoke tainting the air.

Din’s breath catches in his throat. “Is that…?”

‘The Lightsaber of Mandalore,’ Ahsoka confirms. ‘Made by the Armorer herself.’

The Armorer is deeply respected by both mortals and immortals alike. As the goddess of metalworking and blacksmiths, there is nothing she cannot forge and infuse with grand powers. However, she is exceedingly cautious about choosing who is a recipient of her creations.

Din is one such recipient, having been given his armor of pure beskar when the Armorer realized how dangerous his touch was to mortals. He remains eternally grateful for the gift not only because it prohibits unwanted physical contact, but also because it is invulnerable to damage or rust like other types of armor. Ahsoka’s dual sabers were also made in the Armorer’s forge, specifically designed for the Oracle’s grip alone and meant to protect her during her journeys throughout the galaxy, but in contrast to the white blade of the Lightsaber, the blades of Ahsoka’s weapons matched the same blue coloring as the stripes on her lekku and montrals.

According to the legends Din’s heard, the Armorer created the Lightsaber for the first ruler of Mandalore because she was impressed with their culture and strong military, and it was passed on to each new heir to the throne over the centuries. When wielded in battle, the Lightsaber made the user invincible against enemy attacks as it siphoned off energy from the souls of those it sliced through.

Throughout the long history of Mandalore, Satine was distinguished as the only ruler to avoid warfare as she sincerely believed negotiations and treaties could solve any problem quicker than bloodshed.

As such, Din isn’t surprised when Bo-Katan raises a judgmental eyebrow. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? I know you wouldn’t use the Lightsaber even to cut a piece of fruit.”

Satine sighs through her nose, sheathing the weapon once more. “Fine. I’ll contact Obi the second you’re gone.”

“You better.” Bo-Katan leans forward, pressing her forehead against her sister’s. A gesture of affection within their culture. “I’ll see you soon.”

And then she’s gone, flying out the nearby window and diving straight into the fray. As a mortal and as a reaper, the redhead is fearless in the face of danger. Some might consider the behavior reckless, but Din’s always been impressed by her dogged tenacity to achieve victory no matter the difficulty of her mission.

Din looks back at Satine. Now that she is alone in the room, she is able to freely express her distress at the unfolding situation, looking as if she’s aged ten years within the blink of an eye. She fiddles with the comlink around her wrist, seeming hesitant to call this Obi-Wan fellow like she agreed to.

‘They haven’t realized it, but they’re soulmates, ’ Ahsoka murmurs, low and melancholic. Hearing it makes Din’s chest constrict with unease. ‘They fought recently and parted ways upset with each other. Unfortunately, she dies before they can resolve their miscommunication.’

The next sequence of events play out startlingly quick, as if Ahsoka has chosen to suddenly jump forward in time. His eyes struggle to absorb the fleeting details—the doors to the throne room being blown open; a Seraph in black armor emerging from the smoke; his voice is unique, velvety and thorny at the same time, as he addresses the duchess by her full name Satine Kryze; Satine attempting to stall as she subtly taps at her comlink, only for the tactic to fail as the foe teleports closer, eliminating the space between them.

“You have something I want,” he tells her, seizing hold of her throat. “You may think you have some idea of what you have in your possession, but you do not.”

One of Satine’s hands claws at his face, attempting to gouge out his eyeballs with her nails, while the other reaches for the Lightsaber. Her fingertips brush against its metal hilt just as he throws her to the floor. The impact knocks the breath out of her lungs, eliciting a strangled gasp, and shards of glass dig into her exposed skin, dotting the pale flesh with beads of blood.

Gideon—Din doesn’t need Ahsoka’s input to know this, for who else could the Seraph be but him?—places the heel of his boot over Satine’s neck. He doesn’t apply pressure yet, but the action in itself has the duchess squirming with panic, hitting at his leg futilely. There is a red light on the comlink flashing insistently, indicating someone on the other end is speaking but they’ve been muted.

“Give me the asset I seek.”

Through clenched teeth, Satine wheezes, “It belongs to Mandalore.”

“I thought you might say that,” Gideon replies, feigning disappointment. “However, in case you haven’t noticed Duchess,” he gestures towards the windows, “Mandalore is dead. My accomplices have made sure of that.”

“You’re a coward for hiding behind others. You don’t deserve the Lightsaber.”

There is a sudden change in the atmosphere, air turning impossibly frigid and crisp.

“I deserve it more than anyone,” Gideon says, angry enough he is trembling. The Seraph’s stance shifts, and although Din has witnessed every type of brutal death imaginable, he flinches at the sound of Satine’s neck snapping beneath his heel.

Gideon rolls her lifeless body over and rips the Lightsaber off her belt, a satisfied smirk on his face. He disappears as quickly as he arrived, reward in hand, and an eerie silence envelops the room. It’s almost as if the palace itself is stunned by the loss of its ruler, struggling to make sense of the merciless act of violence.

Time skips forward again, showing a young bearded-man dressed in military armor clutching at Satine’s body, pressing his forehead against hers as he weeps. Over and over he keeps murmuring apologies for not being quicker, for failing to be there when she needed him, for never saying he loved her.

“How do you know Satine and Obi-Wan are soulmates if they never matched?” Din asks, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment despite not actually being there.

He thinks of a similarly phrased question he’d asked his angel on their way to Sorgan what feels like entire lifetimes ago: how will I know it’s my soulmate? Her eloquent response remains embedded deep in his memory, safely stored away along with every other moment they’ve spent together. Longing twists like a knife in his side as he allows himself a second of weakness to look at the soulmate marking on his palm.

‘I saw the life they were going to share,’ Ahsoka tells him. ‘Satine Kryze was not meant to die here. She and Obi-Wan should have both survived the Fall of Mandalore, settling down happily with each other elsewhere in the galaxy. Gideon’s greed altered their destinies.’

The palace fades away to reveal a much older Obi-Wan, gray-haired and wrinkled. He’s in Mos Eisley; Din recognizes the crowded spaceport instantly having taken his ship there for repairs numerous times over the years.

‘The universe puts a lot of effort into making sure soulmates match with each other at a very precise moment. Even if the match is rejected, the individuals still had an important impact on each other’s lives. Timing is the most important factor for a soulmate pairing, and if it’s off then the universe will attempt to fix it.’

Obi-Wan stops to help a woman who’s accidentally dropped her shopping bag, contents spilling out onto the sandy ground. She thanks him as he offers her a polite smile, both of their attentions on each other’s faces and not their hands. More specifically: their marked hands. There is the barest brush of their fingertips as they reach for the same item before an invisible blast of energy erupts from their touch, splitting them apart and sending every person and thing surrounding them flying in all directions.

The shock on Obi-Wan’s face matches Din’s own beneath his helmet. He remembers his angel telling him after the failed match with Omera what happened on Sorgan wasn’t the first time an event like that occurred, but she hadn’t been privy to the details. Her superior had told her she wasn’t high enough ranking which Din had thought sounded like a load of bantha shit at the time.

“Ahsoka, what is the meaning of this?” Din asks the questions quietly, but there’s an audible coating of frustration that he knows she won’t miss. “Satine’s dead.”

‘You didn’t reap her soul,’ Ahsoka says. It’s said as a gentle reminder, but it nevertheless has Din feeling like the ground has disappeared beneath his feet as realization dawns.

“I...didn’t.”

A quiet sigh echoes through his head. ‘I forgot how ignorant you can be. You can’t reap a mortal soul that transforms into a new entity.’

“She’s a Cupid,” Din murmurs. Either that or a reaper, but he knows each of his reapers like the back of his hand and Satine isn’t nor has she ever been one. He shakes his head, thinking of Obi-Wan finding Satine’s body in the throne room. “That doesn’t make any sense. Obi-Wan clearly loved her.”

‘Rejection can sometimes stem from a misunderstanding. Satine’s last living encounter with Obi-Wan was him saying so long as he was part of the royal guard they had no future together. She perceived this as him denying he cared about her, not knowing he had made plans to retire in order to ask for her hand.’

In front of Din, Obi-Wan rubs at his soulmate marking while staring at the mess around him, lines of unease and confusion creasing his forehead.

‘You asked, what is the meaning of this moment?’ Ahsoka continues. ‘It’s one of the universe’s attempts to reconnect Obi-Wan and Satine so they experience their matching as they were intended to.’

“But they’re of different statuses,” he points out needlessly. “She’ll outlive him.”

‘Yes, but the matching of soulmates not only influences the lives of the pair, but the lives of other people as well in ways both obvious and invisible. Think of it as a ripple effect.’

“Did the universe’s attempt work?” Din wonders. “Were they ever reunited?”

‘When Satine awoke as a Cupid, it was a surprise to both her and Gideon. Rather than kill her a second time, the Seraph chose to inflict a worse fate. She became the first of her kind to have her memories erased. However, he’d never previously used his ability on another immortal before, resulting in him nearly wiping her entire mind clean. The universe is capable of many miracles, big and small, but every attempt of reuniting the pair failed. It remains the universe’s most profound regret which is ultimately the reason why the universe brought you to Trinomliaxeros without your armor so that history wouldn’t repeat itself.’

There is a strange, heavy feeling that suddenly inflates within the confines of Din’s chest like a balloon. It’s different from the rampant anger he can still detect simmering beneath the skin of his human façade. He tries to shake it off, focusing on his breathing and the desert heat emanating from the twin suns overhead, only to slowly realize that what he’s feeling is fear.

Within his memory he can recall just one other distinct moment in his existence where he felt this spine-chilling emotion, and that moment was experienced on Trinomliaxeros.

“What did you just say?” His voice sounds shaky even to his own ears, but he can’t find any energy within himself to care.

A long stretch of silence fills his head; it’s the fragile kind, too, preventing him from snapping at Ahsoka to answer lest she become angry at him and yank him out the vision entirely.

‘Twice the timing of a soulmate match has been disturbed. The first pair affected was Obi-Wan and Satine. And the second pair was...’

“Ahsoka,” he says when she hesitates to continue, but any additional words he can think of saying catch in the back of his throat.

‘The second pair was you and your angel.’ Another pause of silence, shorter but no less meaningful. ‘Only fifty years ago, she wasn’t an angel.’

This is what Din remembers from Trinomliaxeros: feeling a pull so forceful, impatient and unanticipated it drags him across the galaxy in his civilian clothes, arriving to find the planet engulfed in smoke, unable to see his hand in front of his face, even without his gloves on. Finding skeletal remains burnt to blackened crisps with the souls inside shaking and traumatized, practically leaping into his outstretched hand, knowing either the afterlife or damnation would be better destinations than lingering there even a second longer. Explosions in the distance, bursts of flames as intense and hot as the sun, greedily consuming everything in their radius.

Out of the smoke and darkness, a survivor. A girl, covered in soot and sweat, colliding with his chest. The dead are calling out to him, pleading for him to reap them, to save them. Their voices swirl around his head, clawing at his brain and pounding against his skull. Shoving the girl aside, one foot in front of the other, letting his powers guide him to the next soul. Her voice cuts across the distance, a plasma bolt striking him in the back. We’re soulmates, she says.

His breath stills in his lungs. Fear spreads like a virus through his bloodstream, slipping beneath his defenses, turning him into a stranger within his own body. The declaration is a lie, an impossibility, a delusion. He has no match, hands unmarked, flesh poisonous and lethal. His words, too, are weapons themselves. Sharp, ruthless, desiring to wound her as she’s wounded him. You could never be my soulmate.

And then he’d left her.

This is what Din remembers. But, he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly it hurts, I’ve remembered everything all wrong.

Phantom hands gently press against the sides of his helmet, offering comfort without caring about the dried blood. He keeps his eyes shut, knowing it’s just a manifestation crafted by Ahsoka in his head. ‘Don’t blame yourself. This was the only viable outcome the universe could produce to ensure the bad timing would be remedied in the future,’ she says, but it does little to lessen the weight on his chest. ‘Your rejection saved her life. It granted you both a second chance of a first meeting.’

“How did—” Din struggles to string words together, to fucking breathe. “She—She knew. What we were. How…?”

The Oracle puts him out of his misery. ‘She found out the way all soulmates do: through touch.’

Din’s eyes fly open at that, and he has to blink a few times to bring everything into focus because there’s him and his angel right in front of him, frozen mid-collision. She’s grasping the sleeves of his coat to keep her balance, the palm of her marked hand touching his wrist. He stares at the point of contact for a moment, then barks out a laugh, hysterical and strangled sounding.

“That’s not possible.”

‘Soulmates can’t kill each other. She’s always been meant to withstand your touch.’

Din swallows thickly, staring at his angel’s face. He hates the question forming on his tongue, but it will haunt him the rest of his life if he doesn’t ask it. “In your visions, when I meet her at the right time, what happens?”

'You’re different by then, less broody and more accepting of the notion you could be loved. You have a soulmate marking,’ Ahsoka tells him. ‘You fall for her hard, even before your hands brush. You love her throughout the entirety of her lifetime.’

“And...when she dies?” The words taste like blood in his mouth.

‘Don’t torture yourself, Death. That timeline doesn’t exist anymore.’

For one brief, fleeting second Din is actually grateful Gideon altered their destinies. However, in the next, he’s trying not to let the fear gnawing at the back of his mind increase as it belatedly occurs to him that the universe is not as infallible as he’s always believed it was.

He wishes he could see Ahsoka, if only so he could glare at her directly. “Everything you’ve shown me has only further convinced me Gideon deserves death. Why have you asked me to promise not to kill him?”

'Do you remember what happens after this moment on Trinomliaxeros?’

Din frowns at the change of subject. “I continued to reap souls.”

'Yes. And then?’

He huffs a frustrated breath through his nose. This is Ahsoka, he thinks, at her most annoying. But, as much he loathes admitting it, this is also the most helpfully transparent she’s ever been. Today may be the only time she trusts him enough to share her visions. He owes it to her to be as open as she’s being with him.

That being said, he’s still wary of the memories he’s kept in the distant, shadowy corners of his mind being pulled into the spotlight. “Tell me we’re not gonna talk about the kid.”

‘We talked about the universe’s biggest regret. It’s only fair we talk about yours too.’ Ahsoka has found the crack in his armor he’s tried so long to conceal, peeling it open without remorse.

She doesn’t spare him time to argue. All he does is blink and he’s looking at his past self locked in a staring contest with a little green-skinned child who is propped up inside a floating, orb-shaped pram.

Of all the buildings and homes on the planet, only its temple had remained untouched by the destruction. Din didn’t know if it had been the structure’s own holy foundation keeping it standing or if it was the personal choice of the mastermind behind the attack, but he’d been drawn to it regardless, finding souls there to reap whose hosts had differed from other victims in that their throats had been slit. The walls of the temple were adorned with intricate murals depicting immortal figures and religious events of ancient history, but before he could observe the artwork closer, a quiet coo had stopped him in his tracks.

When he opened the pram, he hadn’t anticipated finding a baby of all creatures. When their eyes connected, every background noise abruptly ceased. Even the voices of the dead fell silent. Rather than rouse his suspicions, Din had felt only a sense of peace he usually only experienced in the midst of hyperspace travel where the stars were his voiceless companions.

An unspoken conversation transpired between the two of them, one Din still can’t translate into words all these years later, but it concluded with him knowing he would take the child with him.

Din had reached for him unthinkingly, the child lifting his arms up in eagerness to be held, but self-awareness kicked in right before contact and Din retracted his hands away so fast it startled the child into crying, brown eyes filling with tears. Panicked, he surveyed the room, looking for something to put an end to the wailing, before looking down at his own coat, experiencing a lightbulb moment.

“Alright, kid, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Watching his past self shrug off the coat, Din remembers it had been his favorite of his civilian clothes, well worth the cost for its soft fabric and length. He managed to successfully swaddle the child, ensuring his arms were safely tucked away to prevent him endangering his life, and Din exhaled a quiet breath of relief when the tears dried up almost immediately.

However, the ensuing silence wasn’t as peaceful as the previous one. Both past and present Din turn at the sound of distant shuffling echoing off the temple walls from another room.

“Ignore it,” Din tells his past self. “Just take the kid and leave.”

But his plea goes unheard and the past remains unchanged. Ahsoka is silent inside his head, either because she knows he won’t accept any more comforting words or because she thinks he’s undeserving of them for choosing to leave the child behind in his pram, closing it when he starts to whine again, so Din can go investigate the noise.

Din exhales a quiet breath, fingers twitching restlessly at his sides as he watches himself stalk through the temple halls, checking each room he comes across. It’s strange, seeing himself from this perspective. The distanced viewpoint allows Din to glimpse new details he hadn’t been capable of noticing back then.

Such as the reappearance of a familiar Seraph emerging from the shadows to stab him in the back.

Here’s one of the perks about being Death: he can’t be killed. That fact doesn’t mean there haven’t been attempts though. As Death, people sometimes look at his armor as a challenge. Like if they can fire a shot or throw a knife at just the right angle, it’ll wound him and allow them to live longer. Simply put, all those people are idiots.

When he looks like a regular, unintimidating civilian, he’s also been involved in violent predicaments where someone’s attempted to mug him or where he’s tried to save someone else from a similarly sticky situation.

Armor or no armor though, he’s always walked away from these encounters completely unscathed.

Well. With the sole exception of Trinomliaxeros where he was mostly unscathed.

It wasn’t the first time Din had been stabbed before. Usually knife wounds felt like a mild pinch. More irritating than painful, similar to a splinter stuck in one’s thumb. Once the weapon was removed, the damage healed within seconds, leaving behind no scar or proof he was ever attacked.

Usually, is the keyword to note here.

Ahsoka freezes time right when the blade of the Lightsaber is driven straight through the center of Din’s body, bone and flesh as easy to slice through as melted butter. His agonized expression—eyes screwed shut and lips open in a silent scream—would be comical if Din didn’t remember the exact emotions he was feeling in that moment.

Instead of a pinch, it’d felt as if thousands of invisible hands were pulling and scratching at him, attempting to strip apart his human exterior layer by layer—peeling off skin, scraping away muscle and bone marrow, seeking to reach the core of himself where his powers resided.

‘Looks like it hurts,’ Ahsoka says. The return of her naturally calm and neutral tone of voice seems almost cruel given the frozen, graphic display.

Din again wishes he could glare at her. “Is this funny to you?”

‘The transformation of the Lightsaber into the Darksaber is anything but funny.’

Lost in recollection, he failed to notice until now how the blade of the Lightsaber has changed in color from white to black. It’s the same inky hue that absorbs the brown in his eyes, that had dyed his veins during the execution of Hess.

‘The Armorer specifically instructed the Lightsaber only be used against enemies. As a neutral entity, you are, by definition, no one’s ally or adversary. By stabbing you, the saber became corrupted. It is a consequence Gideon still has yet to fully realize the monumental repercussions of.’

Time resumes, Din’s past self collapsing onto the floor, pressing a hand to the throbbing hole in his chest, attention too consumed by the franticness of his powers struggling to repair the trauma to notice Gideon lingering behind him. The Seraph’s stunned look of shock lasts barely ten seconds, morphing into one of deep contemplation as his gaze flicked between the weapon and Din, before he vanished.

When Din recovered enough to stand, he teleported back to the child’s location at once. He needs to get the little guy as far away from here as possible, somewhere peaceful and safe. His planning came to an abrupt halt upon finding the pram open and empty, his coat shredded and scattered about the floor in pieces.

“Gideon took him.” It isn’t a question.

‘Yes,’ she confirms. ‘The child was the intended target of this siege.’

“Why?”

‘He’s...very special.’ There is something about how her voice hitches when she says ‘special’ that has Din’s instincts prickling with alertness, but he holds his tongue. ‘Gideon considers him a tool he can take advantage of.’

The ugly, tight mass of anger swells inside of him and presses against his lungs, resulting in a low growl slipping out of his mouth. He curses his own ineptitude. If he’d paid more attention, hadn’t allowed himself to be wounded, he could have subdued Gideon and spared both his angel and the child from being captured.

“I warned you once upon a time, there would be consequences if you released your darkness,” Ahsoka says, her voice no longer emitting from inside his head. The vision fades back into reality the same sudden, jarring way one wakes up from dreaming. It takes all of Din’s self-restraint not to perform a full-body shake. “Your control is slipping as your rage increases. It’s making you not think clearly which is exactly what Gideon wants. That is the reason I am asking you to promise you will not kill him.”

Put like that, Din no longer thinks her request sounds quite so outlandish, even though he does still remain in the dark as to what consequences exactly will unfold. Ahsoka has remained stubbornly tight-lipped about the topic from their very first encounter, claiming the universe is adamant she can only share the details with one other person and it isn’t him.

“He deserves to die for all he’s done,” Din says quietly, but he’s self-aware to know his resistance is beginning to crumble.

“Between you and me, I think so, too,” she admits in the same low tone. Her ocean eyes are dark and stormy, reflecting her internal turmoil. “But rules are made for a reason and we would be fools to carelessly overlook the consequences of breaking them.”

The accusatory note from earlier has returned with a vengeance. He’s not surprised—of course the universe would utilize the Oracle to express its disapproval—but aggravation still thrums through his veins.

“Hess played a hand in my soulmate’s fate. He called her a whore.” Din’s upper lip twitches with the urge to snarl. “I don’t regret what I did to him.”

Ahsoka sighs. “I was afraid you’d say that. When you swore your creed, you promised the universe you’d only reap a soul when their host’s time has reached its destined end. By killing Hess, you not only broke a sacred rule, you also broke your creed.”

Din recoils, feeling like he’s been stabbed with the Lightsaber all over again.

“...What?” The anger is gone, extinguished by the weight of the revelation. Confusion and wariness are quick to fill the void. “What does that mean?”

She looks away then, but not quick enough to hide her troubled expression. “I...don’t know.”

He blinks, mind scrambling to understand the implications. “Isn’t that your purpose? To know everything?”

“For the very first time, the future’s unclear to me,” she murmurs, eyes briefly turning cloudy as if she’s trying to take a peek at the potential timelines right then and there. She shakes her head a beat later, frowning. “There are many choices left to be made, each one capable of influencing the fate of the galaxy. It is not possible at this time for me to predict our upcoming reality, let alone your consequences. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Din says, because it’s the truth and he doesn’t like seeing her crestfallen expression. Fuck, he might actually consider her a friend after all.

Whatever happens, he thinks to himself, it can’t be any worse to deal with than being separated from his soulmate. If he can survive this, he can survive anything.

“The last promise I made was broken.” He bites back a wince at the memory of his angel’s pinky promise. “But if making another one is the only way you’ll take me to my soulmate, then you have my word. I won’t kill him.”

A ghost of a smile pulls at her lips before she grabs hold of one of his vambraces. “Take me to your ship. I will guide you to her location.”

“You don’t trust me to go alone?” he asks, unsure whether to be amused or indignant.

“No,” Ahsoka replies bluntly.

Din huffs. “Fine.”

“I may not be able to see much at the moment, but I know it’s never wise to turn down support. You’re going to need us.”

“Us?”

“It’s Bo-Katan’s choice to make, but you and I both know she’s never been one to back down from a fight. Especially once she learns Gideon is her sister’s murderer.”

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