#and your immediate next soulmate upon meeting the bully is just like. sure we can share her! im fine with that

[weebsinstash]

I managed to actually find another werewolf audiobook that is so terrible I actually skipped to one of the very last chapters to see if they were being for real with this bullshit, immediately dropped it, and am now going back and re-listening to what I had just so I can accurately recount how atrociously toxic this is

[vanilladyfics]

Yakitori Time

Ship: Denki Kaminari x Assumed Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, First Words Soulmate AU

Warnings: Slight sexuality, Mineta mention

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary:  Denki Kaminari, like most people, was born with the first words his soulmate will say to him written on his chest.  The words tell him where he’ll meet his soulmate, just not when.  Denki is not a patient man.

Do not repost.

----

“Welcome to Yakitori Time!”

Denki Kaminari had seen the words in the mirror so many times, he could write them backwards.  Ever since quirks first started appearing, more and more people were born with words tattooed across their heart, supposedly guiding people to their soulmates.  Most of his friends had simple, generic greetings.  Every day platitudes that could, and have, mislead people to believing any given stranger could be their destined mate.  Sure, he got teased for it back in middle school, but at least his was unique.  Millions of people were walking around with “Hi” or “Nice to meet you” across their chest with no clue where their soulmate might be, but he had a solid lead.  No doubt those old locker room bullies were just envious he knew where to look, even if it was a grilled chicken place that, last he checked, didn't exist.

Denki turned his phone back on after another grueling library study session with Bakugo.  He had five missed messages, all from Mineta.

What's the name of that chicken place again?

The next message was a selfie of Mineta and half of the shot was taken up by a woman's butt in leggings.  Nice.  He almost missed the sign Mineta was pointing to in the background:  Yakitori Time.  Another shot of just the top of Mineta's head and the sign again, this time with the grand opening banner above.

They'll kick me out if I don't keep eating.  Bring money.  Plz.

“Oi!  What's with the face?”

Denki showed his friend the second picture.  “It's from Mineta.  He found it. Yakitori Time.”  He cradled the phone in his hands, feeling something between awe and disbelief.  No one he knew met their soulmate this young.  He liked girls, he really liked girls, but didn't know what he'd actually do if he had one.

“And you're just standing here?  Didn't take you for a coward.”

The last message was just the address.  He knew the street.  He could be there in ten minutes if he ran.  He ran.

Denki knew the place immediately from the large Grand Opening banner and chicken mascot outside.  He could see just how crowded it was through the glass windows.  Any one of those people could be his destined mate. Denki's mouth felt dry.  He was already sweaty from his sprint from UA and regretted not changing out of his uniform.  He could meet his future wife today with his hair standing on end and his shirt wet with pit stains.  He could still go change.  Come back fresh tomorrow.

Mineta made eye contact through the glass, waving frantically.

Nope.  It was today.

He'd do it fast, like ripping off a bandage.  Denki pushed the double doors open with both hands, the air conditioning blasting cool air on his hot face.

The entire staff greeted him as one, “Welcome to Yakitori Time!”

This was going to be a lot harder than he initially thought.

---

Years passed, and everyone at Yakitori Time knew about Chargebolt, the Stun Gun Hero. He stopped by a couple times a week, and the corner table was unofficially dubbed “Denki's table” with autographed pictures of him posing with staff hanging above it.  Some the veteran staff still called him by his first name, and the owner loved the free advertising that came with having his restaurant's name emblazoned across the chest of one of Japan's up-and-coming heartthrob heroes.

Denki was greeted with the familiar chorus of “Welcome to Yakitori Time!” when dropped in after his Saturday patrol, followed by some of the older waitstaff calling out to him by name.  It was nice, having been informally adopted into a found family by so many people.  None of them were the person he'd been hoping to find when he first came by, but he thought, maybe, they were who he needed.

The owner came out and hugged Denki when he approached the front desk.  “How have you been?  We've been getting lonely without you.”

Denki laughed.  The place was so busy he doubted he'd been missed.  “Good, good. Great, actually.  Any newbies for me?”

Since seeing Denki's soulmate tattoo, the owner, Mr. Please-Call-Me-Dad, had taken it upon himself to assign all the new hires to work Denki's table. At first it was exciting, and then mortifying, but now it was... nice, knowing he had someone in his corner, even if it was embarrassing to have all the new employees paraded around him like livestock.  It was probably worse for them.

“Just one.  A real cutie.  Your usual table is taken, but I can put you by the window.”

“Anywhere's fine, Dad.”

Denki took his seat, ignoring the gawkers outside by pretending to read the menu. Only the pictures had changed since the grand opening, and he knew them all by heart.

Denki felt you before he saw you.

“Welcome to Yakitori Time!”

He heard the phrase hundreds of times before, but this time was different.  His quirk discharged slightly, sending electric currents buzzing through his veins and making the hairs on his arms stand on end.  His mouth suddenly felt dry and he was immediately reminded of the nervous, sweaty teenager he was when he first stepped into Yakitori Time.

“--My name's [Y/N] and I'll be your server today.  Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“It's you, isn't it?”

You continued on autopilot, “We have Pepsi products, fresh-brewed iced tea, and our drink specials for today are peach sake and our house white wine.”

“It's you,” Denki smiled, “[Y/N].”

You blinked, truly seeing him for the first time-- his wide, full mouth; his thick, dark lashes; the way his Adam's apple caught on his choker when he spoke. Your heart was running away with you and your brain was struggling to keep up.  “I'm... not on the menu.”

Denki flushed, “No-- I mean, yes!  I mean... the words... on your chest... what do they say?”

“I...”  You placed a hand over your heart, as if to hide the words under your polo.  You could feel your heartbeat thundering.  You knew what they said, but what did he say?  You cursed yourself for not paying more attention.  The man in front of you could have just said the words you waited your whole life to hear and you just missed it? “It's... 'It's you, isn't it.'”  Your eyes stung with tears.  You sniffed, your nose suddenly runny.

You snorted.

He laughed.

Oh God, you just met your soulmate and now you had a giant snot bubble coming out of your nose.

Denki stood, “Can I hug you?”

“I'm snotty.”

“I don't care.” Denki pulled you in as your hands slipped under his hero jacket and up his back.  He hummed contentedly into your hair, “I'd order you, you know.  If you were on the menu.”

You laughed into his chest, “You're a total dork.  I bet you have hundreds of those lines.”

“Millions.  All for you.”  Cameras flashed.  He'd pose for another photo for the wall and sign autographs later.  This moment was yours.

[goodlucktai]

put your empty hands in mine

chapter five: something unbelievable 

natsume yuujinchou pairing: kitanishinatsu word count: 1961 summary: Kitamoto and Nishimura are soulmates, to absolutely no one’s surprise. But they’re also soulmates with a very shy boy who lives somewhere far away, who writes to them in tiny, careful letters right before bed, who apologizes when the mimicry of bruises pop up on their arms and backs because of him. And that’s a surprise to a lot of people. read on ao3

x

Leaving him is hard, hard, hard. It feels like Satoru’s trying to leave behind one of his lungs, or half of his heart.

They hug one last time at the station, and Takashi’s fingers dig into the back of Satoru’s shirt-- he’s too shy to make demands, but that desperate grip is enough of one, and Satoru wishes for the one millionth time that they could just take Takashi with them. He thinks Takashi wishes it, too.

“It’s time to go, boys,” auntie says in a gentle voice. But she has a hug ready for Takashi despite herself, squeezing him tight and close with a hand against his hair. “It was wonderful to meet you, Takashi. We’ll see you again soon. Do you still have the present I gave you?”

He nods without pulling away, face buried in her stomach.

“I told your guardians that it’s yours, to keep with you all the time,” she says. “I told them I would be calling to check on you every week. I want you to keep it with you even at school, and make sure you keep the battery charged. You can send as many emails and make as many calls as you’d like, but keep it charged. Can you do all that for me, sweetheart?”

At first Satoru was a little jealous that auntie bought Takashi one of those cool prepaid flip phones when Atsushi’s been asking for one for ages, but he thinks he gets it now. It’s another way she’s taking care of them.

Takashi looks up at her like he’s never seen anyone like her before, which is just more proof. He always looks like that when someone does something nice for him.

Satoru and Atsushi steal another hug, because the risk of missing their train is more than worth it, then auntie ushers them both on board. The doors hiss closed and Satoru wastes no time in clambering onto his seat and plastering himself to the window.

Takashi stands there looking small and unhappy, almost swallowed up by the bustling crowd, hands clutched in the front of his own shirt like he’s afraid his heart might jump out to follow his soulmates home.

But he smiles when he sees Satoru looking. He lifts a hand as the train starts to move, and Satoru loses sight of him almost immediately.

Not everyone loves their other halves. Sometimes they don’t even seem to get along. Tsuji and his soulmate bicker every single day of their lives, like it’s a competition to see who can get the most hits in, but--

Tsuji gets upset when one of his classmates calls the other boy mean. “He’s not,” Tsuji will say, frustrated and a little bit hurt by their complete misunderstanding. “He’s my best friend. I’m going to marry him forever when we get older and argue with him about everything. ”

Satoru’s only eight, and he’s never once thought about getting married, but he’s familiar with love. He loves his brother, and his auntie, and his two best friends, so much it sometimes feels like a balloon inflating in his chest to the point of pain. He loves mom most of the time, and uncle Hakaru and little baby Mana, and Tsuji and Taki and Sasada. He’s never been without love, not really. Neither has Atsushi.

Takashi has.

Takashi doesn’t have parents or a house or even a bedroom that’s his. He moves around a lot, and lives with people that don’t seem to want him, and it takes an effort to get him talking, as though he’s used to being hushed or ignored. He wanted Satoru and Atsushi to stay and had no idea how to ask.

Satoru’s second soulmate is like a ghost with good intentions. One that wants to stick around but knows better than to break the rules. One that watches them leave like he’s used to watching people leave.

It’s hard. It hurts. It feels like they’re not supposed to be so far apart. But it’s not goodbye, Satoru reminds himself, repeating in his head what auntie had reminded them over and over. It’s never ever going to be goodbye.

And now he has a phone of his very own! And he promised to call when they got home tonight!

Atsushi already has his felt-tip pen out, writing onto the back of his hand, Miss you already.

Satoru grabs for it when he’s done and scrawls his own, much messier, Talk to you soon!

The phone comes more in handy than Satoru ever thought it would.

Auntie is strict about calling, never missing a single agreed-upon check-in, and that’s on top of all the countless hours Atsushi and Satoru spend talking to him after school and on lazy Sunday afternoons. Kiyoshi checks his arms and his back for new bruises during baths and looks relieved when there’s nothing but the fading yellows and greens of old ones.

Sometimes Atsushi gives the phone to baby Mana and lets her babble solemnly into the receiver. Sometimes they put it on speaker and pour over homework together and try to lure Tsuji or Sasada over to correct their bumbling attempts at English.

Slowly, during all those endless days, Takashi’s voice gets brighter and louder. He picks up on the first or second ring with a happy, “Hi!” that makes Satoru want to roll around and smile at everything.

And then one day, a stranger answers the phone.

“So you do exist!” an unfamiliar voice says by way of greeting.

“Who’s this?” Atsushi asks, confused. After nearly a year, no one’s ever answered Takashi’s phone for him before. Satoru crawls closer and presses his ear to the phone, too, in time to hear a group of kids share a laugh in the background.

“My name’s Shibata. Natsume’s in my class,” the boy with Takashi’s phone says. “Me and my friends wanted to know what kind of person his soulmate was, that’s all.”

“Stop it!” Takashi’s voice comes from somewhere behind him. The distress in his voice makes Satoru’s hands bunch into fists all on their own. “Give it back!”

“What’s your problem?” Satoru snaps. “Give his phone back or you’ll be sorry!”

“Hey, I’m not hurting anything,” Shibata says. Now he sounds a little surprised, like he wasn’t expecting their anger. “I’ll give it back. We just wanted proof he wasn’t lying about you like he lies about everything else.”

“He doesn’t have to prove anything to you.” Atsushi’s never glared like this before at anybody, and Satoru wishes these bullies could see it. “You just told me your name like an idiot, and my mom will call the school and get you in trouble if you mess with him anymore. Give him back the phone and go away.”

There’s a brief pause, and then a quiet shuffle, and then Shibata’s voice in the distance leading his stupid pack of friends away. There’s soft, shuddering breaths on the line next, and Satoru says, “It’s okay, pumpkin. Let’s go someplace you like to be, okay? Is there anyplace like that around?”

“There’s a-- an abandoned shrine,” Takashi whispers, and he’s crying, and Satoru feels his eyes burn with sympathetic tears almost immediately. “That I like to go to sometimes. I’ll go there.”

As he walks, they keep him company. They talk about stuff that doesn’t really matter, just to fill up the silence. Atsushi taps his fingers on his knee to count Takashi’s breaths until they start to slow down.

Then they hear a low creak of wood, and the distinct groan of an old door easing open on tired hinges, and Takashi murmurs, “I’m here.”

“Are you okay?” Satoru presses. “Do those guys bother you a lot?”

“Not really. They just say stuff. This is the first time they took my bag.”

Atsushi’s still got that scary look on his face. Satoru half wants to take a picture because no one will ever believe him that his Acchan could look like that. He definitely gets it from auntie, Uncle Hakaru is too nice. Hopefully Mana takes after her dad.

“I should still tell mom. She’ll come all the way to your school if your guardian won’t.”

“And we could come with her and visit!” Satoru adds brightly, always an opportunist.

It works in earning them a little laugh. “I probably won’t live here for very much longer. I don’t want to start any trouble.”

Satoru pouts, but Atsushi’s tapping his fingers again. He looks troubled by something.

“Takashi, what did he mean?” he asks carefully. “When he said you lied?”

"I can't tell you," comes the quiet reply, hurt and heartfelt. "You won't believe me either."

"Nope, we definitely would," Satoru says right away. "If anybody'd believe you, it'd be me and Acchan. Right, Acchan?"

"Right. We know you're not a liar, but it's just like I told that guy, Shibata. You don't have to prove anything, okay? You can keep all the secrets you want, and we'll help you keep them."

"And when we come visit, I'm gonna beat up Shibata!" Satoru adds. He waves a fist for emphasis. "Teach him to mess with my Takashi."

"Our Takashi," Atsushi corrects, giving him a not very gentle push.

"You'd believe me no matter what?" Takashi asks cautiously. There's hope in his voice, this tentative burdened hope. They've never given him any reason to doubt them, but it's still so hard. "Even if it was something unbelievable?"

"Takashi, you're-- a part of us. We love you. We're not gonna stop coming to visit or writing notes to you during class or calling you all the time, no matter what you tell us."

"Even if," he whispers, shaky, "even if I told you I could see ghosts?"

Which-- huh.

That doesn't sound as crazy as Satoru was bracing himself for. Maybe things are different in the city, but everyone in Satoru's quiet country hometown is pretty superstitious. Even mom won't hang out any laundry to dry at night, and the only time Tsuji was ever late to class was when his shoelace broke on his way out the door and his mother made him change it.

And maybe there's a right way to respond to this big secret of Takashi's that he's revealed-- a better, more mature, thoughtful way than Satoru jumping up and down and smacking Atsushi on the arm, forgetting himself in his sudden excitement.

"Hey, so can Yula! Remember?"

Atsushi still looks a little thrown, but he nods along. "Your brother’s soulmate? Oh-- oh yeah!"

"Her last apartment was super haunted," Satoru says into the phone, bringing Takashi back up to speed. "Apparently there are lots of ghosts in St. Petersburg. She and her moms moved to a new apartment, though, and she hasn't seen anything creepy in ages."

"Isn't there a priest here in town who does cleansings? Over at Yatsuhara Temple?" Atsushi asks, more to himself than Satoru, who they both know has no clue what priests are here in town. "I'm pretty sure one of our neighbors called him in to place ofuda in the house because her grandma kept getting sick. They must've thought it was a spirit."

"If Takashi sees them all the time, it must be scary. You should get an omamori to carry with you, just in case," Satoru insists, leaning in to monopolize the phone again. "Next time you visit, we'll go to Yatsuhara and get you a good one, okay? Promise."

It sounds like Takashi is crying again, muffled like he took the phone away and buried his face in his hands. It takes forever to coax him back out, and Satoru is worried they said something wrong until he realizes the tears are mixed with laughter, and it's not an unhappy sound at all.

"Okay, Satchan," Takashi says, each word shaped like a smile. "It's a promise."

[huangels]

lunch tray girl and cast boy - jeno (part 1)

request: oof honey, i'm in need of some jeno angst with a fluffy ending, like i know i don't have an actual plot but just, angst! and fluff! i shall repay you with my life. (i love your writing btw just wanted you to know)

a/n: ok lowkey highkey suck at writing angst so i tried :), there will be a pt 2!!

summary: In a world where the name of your soulmate is imprinted on your right wrist and the name of your enemy is imprinted on your left, you run into trouble as the same name appears on both arms, Lee Jeno. 

genre: soulmate!au, fluff, angst

warnings: slight bullying? idk

word count: 3k

(part 2)

Time flows like dried cement. You check the clock attached to the front wall of the classroom for the time. A minute has passed since you've last checked for what seems like an hour ago. Sitting there with nothing to stare at but a projection screen of a boring history topic and a monotone teacher babbling on about some war is excruciatingly boring.

You begin to drift into a daydream, your eyes roaming towards your right hand that loosely held your ballpoint pen. You turn your arm slightly to get a glimpse of your right wrist, hoping that what's previously there has disappeared or changed. Yet, to no such avail. The name "Lee Jeno" is still imprinted there, ever since birth. Supposedly, the name of one's soulmate appears on his or her right wrist. And on the left, the name of one's enemy.

Your eyes drag over to your left wrist, reading the printed name.

"Lee Jeno," you whisper quietly to yourself, your breath fanning over your left wrist, causing goose bumps to form.

For 17 years, you have always been confused and thought there's something wrong with you. The same name appears on both of your wrists, making your soulmate but also your enemy the same person. You have never met a Jeno before, and you're not even sure if he lives in the same country since his name sounds foreign.

The sound of the bell rings, waking you up from your thoughts.

"Great, I guess I'm not meeting him anytime soon..." you think to yourself as you pack up your textbook and notes, "but is that a good or bad thing?"

Swinging your bag over your shoulder, you pull down the sleeves to your blazer and exit the classroom. Outside, your best friend and her boyfriend stand, waiting for you. Both of their right arms have each other's name, and they are very lucky to find each other this quick in their lives. Your parents met when they just graduated graduate school at age 23 and didn't date until they were 24 and then married when they were 27.

You're scared to meet your soulmate enemy but you also don't want to wait that long. It's very conflicting.

"Hey, what took you so long," your best friend says as the three of you walk to the exit of the school.

"I'm one-half sloth, I thought you knew that," you respond with a grin, shaking off the previous thoughts of Jeno. Your joke earns you an arm slap from your best friend.

"Hey control your girlfriend, she's being abusive!" you say to her boyfriend, who is also a very close friend of yours. He throws his hands up in defeat as your best friend sends him a threatening glare.

"She's the boss, I can't do anything about it, sorry Y/N."

You guys all laugh it off, making our way towards the train station. Your train always comes 15 minutes late so you find a picnic table near the rails, not wanting to miss the train roll by. Your friends and you chatter on about any topic that comes to mind until the blare of the train beckons its arrival. The three of you get up and make your way to one of the opening doors, standing behind the bright yellow line. More people gather around as well, waiting to enter. It soon becomes crowded around the yellow tape, as everyone waits for the train to fully stop.

The door slides open with a ding and the familiar mechanical voice of the instructions lady booms through the train. You're about to take a step into the train until you're roughly pushed over by some guy, your foot almost falling into the crack from the ground to the train. However, you're quick enough to react and pull it up before any damage can be done.

You look up to see who it is but only getting a glance at the backside of the culprit, as he quickly made his way to the back where it seems like his friends are sitting and horsing around. The guy has shaggy blonde hair and wore the same school uniform as you.

Your eyebrows scrunch as you brush it off, not wanting to cause a scene on the busy train. He goes to the same school so if you ever see him in the halls, you will give him a piece of yourself.

Your friend and her boyfriend ask if you're hurt but you huff them away while standing near the side. Because of the incident, you don't have anywhere to sit as everyone piled into the train within seconds, taking all of the available seats.

"What an ass...I feel bad for his soulmate," you say to yourself, arms crossed over your chest. The guy sits improperly on the backrest of the seat, with his feet situated on the cushion of the actual seat, leaning on his knees with his elbows. One of his arms has a wrist cast on it, completely white and blank. You take further notes on his appearance: chiseled jaw, large nose, broad shoulders, long legs.

Your best friend calls you, channeling you back to them with a hum. The rest of the train ride you try not to focus on the rude boy. Until the train stops at the station before your's, and the guy jumps off, waving bye to his friends. You're slightly annoyed that he didn't even acknowledge you or apologize for almost breaking your ankle. But, once you see him in school tomorrow, you'll teach him a lesson.

A week has passed, yet you did not get to find the boy with the white cast who shoved you on the train. Your school isn't a big school, with only about 150 students in every grade. So you thought that you'd actually run into him at least once in the hallways. But, luckily for him, the boy is nowhere in site.

You contemplate whether if he actually does attend your school or not. Yet, he does wear the same uniform. Maybe, he's in a different grade? Or just in different classes that are not near yours?

The school bell rings for lunch as students pile out of classrooms and slowly towards the cafeteria. You consider on just forgetting about the whole thing. However, you feel obliged to find out who the boy is.

As you stand in the line of the food court, you scan around the courtroom trying to spot a tall guy with platinum blonde hair and a white cast. The line moves up and you follow, still looking for the culprit. You don't notice that the line has stopped moving until you walk right into the back of the person in front of you. Your metal tray falls to the ground as you stumble back.

The person turns around at the clang of the metal against the tile floor, his eyes wide and confused.

"Are you okay?" he asks, bending down to pick up your empty tray. The boy extends a casted arm towards your way, the tray in his hand. Your eyes shoot open as the cast comes into view, then whips up at the boy. Upon seeing his face, you know it can't be the rude boy from the train. The student in front of you seems too nice, as he smiles, crescents forming at his eyes and the ends of his lips tilting upwards. The ends of his soft light hair sway delicately over his forehead. Besides, his cast isn't white but full of signatures and little doodles of cats. It must be another guy.

You take the tray with a small thank you and the boy turns back around.

"Miss. Y/L/N!" someone calls as you walk down the hallway of your school, heading towards the exit to go home. You turn towards the noise. Your maths teacher Mrs. J, waves her hand from the doorway of her classroom, requesting for you to come. You comply and enter her classroom.

"Good afternoon," you greet her.

"Y/N, we have a new student in your grade that needs to catch up on work in his classes. The class president is busy with other school related things and you are one of the top 5% in this school. Will you be able to tutor the student until he is all caught up with the rest of the class?"

"Of course, Ms. J!" you assure her, with a nod.

"Wonderful! I knew I could count on you!" your teacher claps her hands together excitedly. "I told him to meet you at the library after school. I had to drop off some papers at the front desk so another student guided him there. He already has his textbooks and workbooks with him. Now go along, I have many errands to run. Goodbye and thank you again!"

After Ms. J walks out of the room, you make your way to the school's library, which isn't that far. You push open the glass doors as you enter the building. There are already students gathered in different groups, studying and doing homework. You pick up your foot but immediately put it down as you have no clue where the student is, who the student is or what the student looks like. The library is as vast as the whole campus of your school. You have no idea how you're supposed to find the student.

You recall Ms. J mentioning the student is a ‘he’ a couple of times, so you scan the first floor for a boy who is alone.

"Why am I searching for so many guys lately?" you ask yourself mentally. No one around seems to be waiting for someone as everyone looks busy with work.

"Excuse me," someone behind you says. You then realize that you've been standing in front of the door for all this time.

"Oh sorry," you apologize, stepping away from the entrance, still trying to look for the student.

"Hey it's the lunch tray girl," the person says, which causes you to turn towards the speaker. Standing next to you is the tall blonde haired boy from lunch, the same colorful cast on his arm.

"Haha funny...," you say, teasingly rolling your eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I have to meet with my new tutor to work on stuff," the boy responds and holds up a stack of books held in his left hand.

"Ahh, I see cast boy. Well have fun studying," you respond with a quick chuckle. The boy leaves with a slight nod. His arms sway as he walks away, a math textbook peaking out.

Suddenly, your brain finally reacts and your eyes widen.

"Hey wait!" you call, running towards the boy. He stops in his tracks, looking back with his signature crescent moon smile.

"What's up?"

"I think I'm actually your tutor," you say through light pants.

"Oh! So you're the Y/N Ms. J told me about. You're late lunch tray girl. I was waiting by the door for 10 minutes and no one showed up so I went to Ms. Jung's classroom but she wasn't there as well. I was just about to leave but I thought to check the library again," the boy tells you. A hand flies to the back of your neck. You apologize before leading the both of you to an empty table in the back of the library and begin working.

A couple months have passed since the first time you've met with the cast boy for tutoring and with every meeting, you become closer to the other. The both of you have shared a lot about each other but didn’t quite exchange names. The boy knows of your name from Ms. J. However, you have never asked for his  name for some reason. Of course, that doesn’t stop you two from being good friends, as the boy calls you lunch tray girl while you call him cast boy in return. 

The two of you are situated at the same table in the libvrary, working quietly on the math assignment. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you scribble the answer to a question, bored out of your mind. Your eyes start to wander around the room and lands on the colorful cast.

"What happened to your arm?" you ask, breaking the silence. The boy looks up from his workbook, barely filled up indicating that he is also bored and not paying much attention.

"Ah, I tripped and landed on it during dance practice a few months ago," he explains, glancing at his right arm. You nod and stare at the cast. Dancing seems fun but it's also serious business as it seems. A silence falls between you both. Turning back to your workbook, you pick up your pencil to start working again. The other doesn't break eye contact with his cast. A couple minutes pass by before the boy speaks up.

"Who's your soulmate, Y/N?" he questions, now staring up at you. A cough erupts from your throat. You put down your pencil to look up at the boy.

"And why would I tell you?" you say, crossing your arms and eyeing the other.

"Why not?" he counterattacks.

"Then tell me your soulmate first."

"I wish I could."

You tilt your head to the side with a confused expression.

"Nevermind," the boy waves it off. He faces his workbook, eyes glazing over the words but not picking up information.

"No, explain!" you say, curious. You prop your chin on top of your hand, giving the cast boy your full attention.

"Well..."

You lean in as his voice becomes quieter.

"I kinda forgot what name is written on my wrist," he mumbles and looks towards the ground.

You lean back into your chair with a hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh in the quiet library. The apples of his cheeks turn to a deep shade of pink.

"How-," you say a bit too loud, earning stares from other students. You lower your voice, "How did you forget your soulmate's name?"

"Shut up! My cast has covered it up for a while and I've never met a person with that name, it kinda sounds foreign, so I didn't think about it much."

A giggle threatens to escape as you bite down on your tongue. The boy looks up with scrunched eyebrows.

"Okay, I told you as much as I could. Now tell me your soulmate!"

You shake your head from side to side, eye closed.

"You didn't actually tell me a name so I won't tell you a name. But I will tell you this," you lean in even closer until you're right by his face, "The name on my right wrist is the same as the one of my left."

It takes a while before the boy's eyes grow wide.

"Wait! Does this mean that they're the same person?"

You send a quick wink before returning to your work.

It's been a few weeks after winter break. You no longer have to tutor the cast boy as he is all caught up with his work and is on the same path with everyone else. This means that you haven't seen him in a while, or talked to him. You didn't even get to ask him for his name. A part of you wanted to continue to be his friend but he slowly slipped away. You don't know why it makes you a bit sad but you carry on with life anyway.

"So the main character didn't even know his real loved one. He was fooled, blinded, deceived by the evil bitc- Hey are you even listening to me?" your best friend waves a hand in front of your face. You blink back into reality as you turn your head from your locker to the girl next to you.

"Yeah yeah, his loved one is evil," you respond half-heartedly, grabbing your necessary books for the next class.

"No, you egg! Well I mean his girlfriend his evil but that's not his true love- ugh nevermind. You clearly don't care about this kdrama."

"I'll watch it once I have time."

"You always have time, you just don't want to watch it."

You sigh and face your best friend once again, opening your mouth to respond but is interrupted by squealing down the hall.

Both you and your best friend turn towards the commotion. Everyone makes way for two people, stepping to the side. The two people, a boy and a girl, walk down the hallway, locking arms. The boy's uniform is untucked on one side while the other is tucked into his pants. His hair is gelled back slickly, with a stray piece of hair dangling over his forehead. He holds onto his school blazer over his shoulder with the unoccupied hand. The girl, blond and thin, wears her uniform incorrectly as well, with her skirt pulled too high and the button up tied below her chest. The girl you are far too familiar with, she has tormented you ever since grade school, for a reason you do not know. Though, people have told you that your name is imprinted on her left wrist.

"Who's that?" your friend’s boyfriend asks.

"The Devil Eunhan and her boyfriend, Jeno."

You drop the textbook in your hands, causing your best friend to whip her head towards you. Your complexion turns white as a ghost, eyes and mouth are frozen wide open in an expression of stunned shock. Something in your stomach churns and your lungs seem to not be working correctly anymore.

"D-did you say J-Jeno?" you begin weakly. "As in...Le-Lee Jeno?"

"Yeah, you know him?" your best friend asks. Upon seeing your state of appearance, she rests a hand on your shoulder, "Hey you okay?"

As the couple walks closer you get a clearer view of his face. The only thing you see before everything turns black is the face of cast boy, holding onto the hands of Eunha.

「 to be continued... 」

[shuaffeine-rkive]

in dreams | 01

∘ description: and only in dreams, will we be able to meet once again. ∘ pairing: taehyung x reader ∘ genre: soulmate!au, angst with a small chance of fluff ∘ word count: 4008 words ∘ warning: verbal bullying, self-doubt, character death

my first attempt and jump onto the soulmate au bandwagon, but I’ve seen this coming for a while now. thanks to my boo @vanillattae for reading this first (and helping me pick out the main character)!

part 02 (final) is up here! masterlist

There was a time when you didn’t want to sleep.

You remembered your 7-year-old self, a bundle of energy that couldn’t keep still no matter where you were. You longed to run across the fields behind your humble home in the countryside, enjoying the fresh air to your heart’s content without caring for what little responsibilities awaited you at home. You remembered pouting every time your mother called you back in as the sun began to set, constantly whining that you still wanted to play outside. The young you didn’t see the point of sleeping and resting, since all you saw was a wide expanse of white, blinding walls surrounding you from every direction and nothing to keep you company for the hours you spent sleeping. 

You had heard stories from your friends who had met their soulmates in their dreams. It was a blessing, adults had claimed, to be able to stay connected with their significant other in such an intimate way from the young age of seven. The pair of you could even go on a daily adventure throughout the night as the white boxes melted into whatever landscape you heart wishes to see, and what’s best is that you had your other half with you during that moment. The catch is, however, that you and your soulmate had to be present in the dream to be able to melt the white interior away. One of your friends, for example, was unfortunate to have a soulmate living across the globe in a completely different timezone, and would often have to wait hours on end until his partner tucks themselves into dreamland before finally having company. Alas, he still had the chance to meet his soulmate regardless of the short duration, whilst you had never once saw who you were meant to be with.

At first, you had cried when you realised that you were the only one who couldn’t meet their soulmate in their dreams, your young mind assuming that you were a glitch in the system. You had spent countless mornings waking up to tears, your parents concern growing with each passing day, yet even they could not tell what was wrong with you. Soon, you accepted the fact that maybe you were an error in the system, that you were never meant to fit into the paradigm. With acceptance comes a change in attitude, and it wasn’t to anyone’s surprise that you found comfort in the reality around you, resulting in a child who explored the world around her with more passion than any other.

On the other hand, there were times where you found comfort in the empty space as well. As you grew up, you were met with the various kinds of challenges every teenager would face, but you found it hard to find someone to confide in. Sure, you had your friends, but none of them had been very open to sharing their personal struggles with one another as they preferred to retreat into their dreams and confide in the one person they knew would understand, leaving you with no one you could trust to that extent. When life felt too heavy on your shoulders, you could find yourself in the vast white emptiness – pouring out your feelings and screaming until your throat felt raw – and you found comfort in the fact that no one was there – that no one could judge you for anything you said or agonised over.

Initially, your parents were surprised that you had spent so much time in a place your younger self had cursed and hated so much, and thought that you had finally met your other half. You remembered the way their eyes shone with so much hope, so much relief that their child could finally meet her soulmate, and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them the truth. Instead, you had plastered on a fake smile, feigning shyness as you refused to tell them about your imaginary soulmate. Soon, retreating to your own solitary world became a habit, and you found yourself curled up into a ball of mixed emotions more often than you would think proper, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to break that habit. After all, that was the only time you could unleash the whirlpool of emotions within you without fear of judgment, and without fear of being labelled as week.

What you didn’t expect, was that the day would come when you finally had company.

You were a few months over sixteen, nursing a broken heart that came from your own stupid naivety. How easily had you fallen into the devilish trap of a senior, how easily had you been swept off your feet by his sweet words promising forever, that he too was an error in the system like you were. You had naively believed in those lies of his, and even when he had ruthlessly revealed his true intentions, you were still in denial, clinging onto whatever reality you had wanted to craft with him helplessly, before he had finally landed the last blow that shattered you.

“Get it in your head that you’re a glitch. You were never meant to be born in the system and you won’t ever find someone perfect for you because there is none.”

His words had hit you hard, and it took all your willpower to save your last remaining pride by not breaking down then and there. You could barely recall arriving home, ignoring your parent’s calls and heading straight to your room, locking yourself in and breaking down completely. You could faintly hear your parents’ worried knocks at your door, trying to get you to tell them what was wrong, but then you thought, what would they know? What would they know about the pain of being a sole error in the system that brought you to life, that brought everyone but you happiness?

Tears were still running down your cheeks when exhaustion finally overcame your senses, taking you to the familiar white emptiness you had grown accustomed to. You had curled into a ball, silently wishing – praying – that the universe could give you a second chance, that they would reconsider your fate and finally give you the one person you had so desperately wished to meet.

Perhaps it was fate who finally decided to have mercy on you, because soon you felt arms going around you, pulling you into a warm embrace that left you rigid in shock.

Your first instincts were to pull away, scramble as far back as possible to move away from the sudden intruder. You gaped in shock as your eyes fell upon a young man, probably no older than you were, with light brown hair and warm brown eyes. Your eyes scanned over his features, mentally noting how perfectly crafted his visuals were, and your heart skipped a beat when your eyes found his again, an odd feeling stirring inside as you stared back at him.

“Sorry if I scared you,” his voice was a deep, velvety baritone that sounded like honey in your ears, snapping you back to reality. “Are you alright?”

It took a few moments for you to realise that this unknown boy had shown up in what you knew to be a private place to yourself, raising your guard immediately. “Who are you? How did you get into this space?”

“I’m Kim Taehyung,” he replied, a soft smile playing on his lips, “and as for how I got here, it was a struggle but I had finally made it.”

“But that’s not possible,” you argued, eyes still trained on the male in suspicion. “Only soulmates can meet each other in their dreams, and I’m a glitch with no –”

It dawned on you that the universe had finally granted you your lifelong wish for a companion. You felt a rush of emotions wash over you, threatening to drown you as a fresh batch of tears glazed your eyes over. You felt a few drops of tears trickle down the side of your face as you whispered, “You’re my soulmate.”

Taehyung smiled a bittersweet smile as he walked over to where you sat in disbelief, pulling you into a strong embrace that you now returned. You buried your face in his chest, your senses going crazy at the earthy smell of him, not paying heed to the fact that your tears had already started wetting his shirt.

“I’m so, so sorry that it took us this long to meet,” he whispered in your ear, his voice cracking towards the end. “I’m sorry you had to wait such long years to see me.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered back, pulling away to look at him in the eyes, a hand reaching up to cup the side of his face. “We couldn’t do anything about it, the universe must have gotten things mixed up the past decade or so. At the very least, we have each other now. It must be hard for you to live like a glitch, wasn’t it?”

A flash of pain went past his eyes, and he placed his hand over yours on his side, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can only imagine how hard it was for you, seeing as you were in so much pain just moments earlier.”

You shook your head, a smile breaking out on your face as you interlocked your fingers together, “I’m okay now. As long as you’re here, I’m okay.”

As you pulled him into another hug, you never noticed the look of pain crossing his face at your words.

You woke up the next morning with a wide smile on your face, a warm feeling rushing over you as you recalled Taehyung. After the little introduction, the two of you had decided to relocate to the top of a mountain Taehyung had claimed was in Daegu. There, under the stars that shined particularly brightly that moment, the two of you had engaged in a light conversation, getting to know each other to catch up on a decade of things you could have shared with each other.

You learned that Taehyung was an only child, born and raised in Daegu, and that he loved the natural world around him. You learned that he had never travelled to Busan before and was extremely curious of how your life there was. You had spent what felt like hours talking to him perched on the higher ground, as if you two were best friends who had not met for more than a decade and were more than willing to share all about that. You found yourself growing fond of the male almost immediately – probably because he was so friendly, listening politely when you shared about your life whilst giving the most animated reactions ever, and shared about himself with equal enthusiasm. You were rather upset when you found yourself rapidly getting drowsier, signalling that you were waking up in the real world. Taehyung could only laugh as he ruffled your hair, calling you silly for not wanting to leave.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow night, won’t I?” Taehyung grinned, “We can talk again every night from here on out.”

A part of you were scared that this would be your only time you could meet Taehyung, that fate was only generous for one time. But as you got ready for another day at school, all you could think about was Taehyung – his smile, his voice, the way he laughs so openly at certain things you said. You finally understood what people had meant when they said that they were drunk on the mere existence of their soulmate, that their other half was the only thing they could think of sometimes, and that brought you joy like none before. Your happiness must have shown in your behaviour, because your mother had called you out on the light skip in your step the moment you stepped into the kitchen.

“You were so upset yesterday you didn’t even come down for dinner, honey,” your mother said, eyebrows furrowing in concern, although you could see faint traces of relief in her eyes that you had visibly cheered up, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m very sure, mom,” you smiled widely at her, and for the first time in a long time, it was a genuine smile. “Taehyung cheered me up plenty last night.”

There was a beat of silence before you realised that you had accidentally slipped your soulmate’s name, face flushing tomato red as your mother smiled knowingly. Your father, who had been casually sipping on his morning coffee, put his newspaper down and grinned at you teasingly, “I assume you’re finally going to tell us about your soulmate? Tell me, who is this Taehyung boy you’re talking about?”

You quickly shoved a toast into your mouth, eyes avoiding contact with them as you felt your cheeks grow warmer with each passing second. Your eyes fell upon the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, widening as you realised you only had five minutes before you were going to be late. You finished the rest of your breakfast at record speed, hastily pulling on your shoes as you shouted a quick goodbye at your parents. You ran the whole way to school, sighing in relief when you made it on time as the first warning bell rang. You walked towards your classroom, making it a point to take a quick detour to avoid the class of a particular senior who were the source of your sadness the day before, and plopped down onto your usual seat by the window.

“Morning Jimin,” you greeted your friend as he slid onto the seat behind you, and he raised an eyebrow at your overly cheerful tone. You and Jimin had been friends for years, since he was the only one willing to get close to you whilst the rest of your classmates wanted nothing to do with a glitch. He had walked into the class half-expecting to find you moping, and was prepared to ask if you wanted him to teach that senior a lesson. However, when he found you glowing and smiling happily, he was rather confused, and was quick to voice his question.

“I finally met him, Jimin,” you smiled widely, eyes twinkling in happiness. “I finally met my soulmate!”

It took a few moments for Jimin to process your words, and when he did, he could not contain the shout of joy coming from his mouth, jumping up to pull you into a quick hug. His action drew a few stares from your fellow classmates, and you tried to calm him down whilst he shot questions at you rapidly.

“What’s his name? Where is he from? Is he our age? Is he seven years old, that’s why you’re only seeing him now? Oh my God, are you destined to be a paedophile?”

“Park Jimin, sit down and let me talk!” You shoved him back into his seat, and he opened his mouth to ask you another question before you raised a hand to tell him to quiet down. “His name is Kim Taehyung, he lives in Daegu, and no, I am not a paedophile.

“He’s our age,” you whispered softly, a smile playing on your lips. “He’s been living thinking he was a glitch the past decade, he’s been living like me. He exists – my soulmate actually exists.”

Jimin could only smile softly, patting your head in affection as he, too, was happy that you had finally met your other half, “I’m really happy for you, y/n. I really am.”

Two years had passed since your first encounter with Taehyung. The pair of you had grown closer than ever, spending most of your nights exploring a new landscape or simply settling down to talk. It was as if you two had known each other for longer, as he knew you like the back of his hand and vice versa. He could easily pick up on the changes in your mood, whether it be stress because of an upcoming test or simply mini frustrations directed towards your school life. You knew that he was rather concerned that he would soon need to leave his hometown to move on with his life, and that he was saddened by the thought of leaving his parents for an extended period of time. He knew your worries, and you knew his – you were each other’s counsellors, boards to bounce your random ideas off of and you cherished his presence. His presence had you looking forward to the night, brought a smile to your lips when certain things in school reminded you of him. You longed to be able to meet him in person, and since Christmas was coming up, you thought it would be the perfect time to make a trip to meet him.

“Tae, what do you think about me visiting you for Christmas?” you asked him one night, eyes twinkling with delight as you imagined meeting him in real life. “I’m sure my parents would be okay with me making the trip, and I would love to meet you and your family as well!”

Taehyung immediately froze, his eyes clouding over with an emotion you can’t decipher, and you felt the arm around your waist stiffen at your words. He bit his lip in what you thought to be panic, and you took it as a sign that he was against the idea.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” you strained to place a smile on your face, watching the way he looked at you with guilt in his eyes. “There’s always next time, yeah?”

Taehyung bit harder into his bottom lip, trying to explain his action, “I’m really sorry butterfly, we’re not going to be in Daegu during that time. I, too, know that my parents would love to meet you too, and you have no idea how much I want to see you in real life. Just – maybe not this time?”

You nodded in understanding, knowing that it couldn’t be helped if circumstances made it so that you couldn’t make it. Alas, a part of you wondered if he was only making an excuse as to not see you, but you shrugged that thought off. This is Kim Taehyung, your soulmate. Why would he not want to see you if he was able to?

Thus, you spent most of your winter break helping out your parents at work, occasionally going out with a couple friends to the beach. You still went on late-night adventures with Taehyung in your dreams, but you couldn’t help but notice the slight tension in the air after your previous mention of seeing him in reality. You two tiptoed around the topic of real life, and more often than not, you found that Taehyung was distracted when talking about his own life. You realised that when he had replicated what he shared about his day for two days in a row, and when you had called him out on that, you could see the guard in his eyes, your gut feeling telling you that he was lying straight to your face. You wanted to respect his privacy, but a part of you were just curious as to why he would suddenly retreat like that. The past couple years had been great, you two were open to sharing down to the tiny details of your life, so what had changed now?

Days passed as your suspicion continued to grow, and one day, you couldn’t help your curiosity any longer. A day before his birthday, you decided to risk it all and travel to his hometown, armed with only snippets of landscape where he had showed you around his neighbourhood to locate his home. The whole trip there, you were so nervous you thought your heart couldn’t beat any faster without rupturing. You were scared that Taehyung would strongly reject you, scared that this would leave a permanent rift in your relationship. Alas, you still found yourself in front of the doorstep of his supposed house, feeling a sense of déjà vu as you recalled visiting this place once in your dreams. Your rung their doorbell and waited in anxious silence, fiddling with your fingers as you waited for someone to open the door.

Soon, the door swung open and you find yourself staring into a pair of eyes you had grown to know so well. The woman who answered the door had the exact same eyes as Taehyung did, and you assumed that she was his mother. You could see the faintest resemblance between the boy you met every night in your sleep and the old woman before you, her beauty shining despite the lines of old age engraved to her face.

“Excuse me, is this the Kim’s residence?” your voice came out surprisingly stable, as you tried to calm your heart down.

“Yes, yes it is,” she replied, her eyes eyeing you with curiosity. “Can I help you?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my name is y/f/n,” you bowed respectfully at her, before standing back up to meet her gaze again. “This might be a shock, but I’m Taehyung’s soulmate. Is he home?”

The woman could only stare at you in shock, her mouth hanging open as she raised a shaking hand to your shoulder. Tears started to collect on the side of her eyes, leaving you bewildered at the sudden turn of events. The elder woman pulled you into a hug, one that reminded you so much of Taehyung, and continually whispered apologies in your ear, yet you didn’t understand what she was apologising for. As she pulled away, she welcomed you into their home, and began telling you a long tale of the past.

You soon found yourself on a train back to Busan, mind numb from the things Taehyung’s mother had revealed to you. Although it was mid-winter and freezing outside, you felt that the coldness inside you was more overwhelming than that on the outside. It was as if you were running on autopilot, brushing off your parents’ questions as you stepped into your own home, claiming that you were tired from the trip and would like to head straight to bed. But as you lay in your bed, your mind was racing as for the first time in a long time, you were scared to fall asleep. How were you to confront Taehyung about the knowledge you now possess? 

You barely had time to process it before sleep had consumed you again, and you found yourself in the familiar white expanse. Taehyung was already there, waiting for you, and it occurred to you suddenly – why hadn’t you realised that Taehyung was always there when you fell asleep?  Why had you not realised that it didn’t matter how early or how late you had tucked yourself into dreamland, he would always be there waiting for you regardless?

Taehyung’s smile dropped the moment he saw your perplexed expression, a frown immediately on his face as he strode forward to hold your arm gently. “Butterfly, what’s wrong?”

You looked up to gaze into his eyes, his warm orbs reflecting so much concern for your wellbeing. You saw so much worry in them, you could even see his mind racing to find reasons why you could have been so drained. Tears welled up in your eyes as you cupped the side of his face, feeling his warm skin beneath your palm as you asked yourself, is this even real? Taehyung grew more anxious as seconds ticked by, internally panicking as you started crying but not knowing what it was that caused you to be upset. He tried hushing you, whispering sweet words that you could tell him anything, that he was there to help you no matter what. However, the moment you answered him, his breath hitched, his eyes widening at the question you asked as a response.

“Taehyung, when were you going to tell me that you're dead?”

part 02 (final) here!